#there was only one choice that would actually set him free and he took it

[willestears]

This might be the most beautiful parallel in young royals.

[moon7jay]

Carnal (p.sh)

Warnings : stepcest, dubcon, sunghoon is a pervert, sex tape, cum eating, just filth tbh, porn without plot

a/n: Im functioning on 2 hours of sleep so it's not proofread,there might be some errors,pls ignore them. reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated ♡

"fuck, just like that " sunghoon groaned, squeezing himself from above his boxers, his red rimmed eyes tethered to the passionate sex scene playing on his laptop screen.

His breathing was heavy, pupils dilated as he watched the man's dick assault the bounded woman's pussy, coming out covered in white cum juices. She was trying to get away from him, but the restraints were not letting her. She had no choice but to take it.

Fuck. He needed sex.

As Sunghoon rubbed his clothed dick, sighing at the delicious friction, his mind drifted off to you.

Pink.

He swallowed the spit gathering in his mouth and reached across the table to open his hidden drawer. Rummaging impatiently with one hand while his other was busy touching himself, sunghoon groaned when he found the one thing that he was looking for. The pink lace underwear in his hand was old and dirty with cum stains. Sunghoon knew that he was responsible for its sorry state. That's what he gets for jerking off in it like an animal anytime you so much as smiled at him.

But he wasn't the only one to blame. You were equally responsible for fueling his perverted tendencies. Prancing around the house in your short little pink skirts. Sunghoon was never the one to go for hyperfeminine women but turns out you were an exception. With your pink bows and pink gloss and pink skirts and pink tops, you were like the sweetest candy that was waiting to be bitten into and tasted. sunghoon craved you with every fibre of his being.

The fact that you were forbidden only increased his desire tenfold. You were his step sister for fuck's sake but his dick throbbed at the mere sight of you. Blasphemous. But who cared? Not HIM.

Sunghoon buried his nose in your panties in hopes of inhaling your addicting scent but groaned in frustration instead. It no longer smelled like you. Fucking hell.

He was drunk and horny and you were the only thing running laps across his mind. He wanted to bury himself into your tight little body. Now.

Sunghoon briefly paused his ministrations and listened for the football match still playing in the living room across the hallway. the volume was loud enough that his parents would not be able to hear the nasty sounds of fucking from your room. He quickly shut down his laptop and tredged his way to your room right across from his own. His dick hung long and heavy in between in legs, straining painfully against his boxer briefs.

Your door was ajar, like always, a careless habit of yours that had given sunghoon countless opportunities to sneak inside and act out his perverse desires.

But he'd never gone this far. Never gone as far as to actually touch you. As he watched your scantily covered body resting so sinfully against the pink sheets, an inexplicable heat spread throughout his limbs. His body worked faster than his brain and he reached inside his back pocket to take out the handcuffs he'd picked up from his room. quickly setting up his phone right across from your bed , sunghoon hastily took off his boxers, ready to ravage you the entire night.

You stirred up when you felt a heavy weight settle onto your body, you tried moving your hands, mumbling and squirming in your sleep but your hands refused to move. Something was holding them down. A sharp pain in between your legs punched a gasp out of your chest, your eyes flying open at the sudden intrusion into your body, your mouth opening in a silent scream. Your bleary eyes met sunghoon's who was breathing uncharacteristically heavy on top of you. Tears gathered at your waterline, the sting in your lower region spreading throughout your pelvis. your core was throbbing from his cock tearing through your hymen so mercilessly. you tried to free your bound hands, but to no avail.

"Wh-what are you doing" you asked with wobbly lips but sunghoon's eyes were dark and unseeing as he stared into yours. You had never seen him like this before. "Gonna use you to satisfy my dick" he whispered and started pistoning his dick in and out of you. A pained moan left your lips as his thick dick dragged against your dry gummy walls. You could have screamed and begged him to stop, but you'd be lying if you said that you'd didn't dream of this every single night. Your step brother was hot and he made you hot. Your mother had kept you away from boys your entire life, so you had never given much thought to your sexual desires, never indulging in pleasures of the flesh. But all of that changed when sunghoon came into the picture.

He grabbed your wet cheeks and stuck his tongue inside your mouth forcefully, tasting your hot mouth with a fervent passion. You moaned and arched into his touch as he began pounding into you. His lips were harsh on your pillowy ones, his tongue moving languidly inside your warm cavity. The pain mixed with pleasure made you sob, your fingers curling around the handcuffs around your wrists.

"God , always wanted to fuck your virgin little pussy, waited for so fucking long" he moaned into your mouth. You pushed your chest up against him as he rotated his hips in a circular motion, grinding into your cervix, his cockhead rubbing and poking your g spot in a delicious rut. "h-hurts" you cried, your pussy struggling to fit him inside, the stretch was too painful.

"Mhmm bet it does baby" he panted on your face and reached down to rub against your clit to make your pussy wetter. the stimulation against your sensitive bud made you squeal and thrash under him. You sobbed as the pain started turning into sweet pleasure, your pussy began to drool, wet sounds coming from the continuous collision of his pelvis with yours. His teeth dug into your lower plump lip with an intention to hurt, your red swollen mouth was too tempting for sunghoon to resist.

"You feel so much better than my hand baby, fuck, so hot and tight" His fingers dug into your soft waist, bruising the flesh with his harsh grip while his thrusts became faster, the headboard now slamming against the wall. A fleeting thought of your parents came into your mind but you weren't able to dwell on it for long, the heat spreading inside your pussy overshadowing every other thought. His hand left your clit and he folded your body into half. He cursed upon seeing your fucked out face, your tongue hanging out while drool escaped your mouth. Fuck. Sunghoon's palms moved up to grope your chest, pinching and twisting your pert nipples painfully from above your flimsy nighty, a whine leaving your lips at his actions.

"we could do this all day baby, you just have to keep quiet and we could-mhmm god-fuck all day" His hands slid down to press upon your abdomen, eyes rolling back upon tracing his own cock through the bulge in your tummy.

"B-but it's wrong" You mewled, your toes curling when he applied more pressure on your lower stomach. He bent down to nibble on your earlobe, his thick dick reaching deeper in this new angle. "Yeah, it's so fucking wrong baby, you shouldn't be drooling around your step brother's dick like a slut" He grunted into your ear and grinded his groin against yours. The Squelching sounds resonating in the room were disgusting but so, so hot, your sweaty bodies rutting against each other to reach carnal pleasure.

Sunghoon pulled all the way out and thrusted inside, snapping his hips into your cunt again and again. Your silky walls wrapped around him so snugly, his breath coming out in harsh pants. "Nasty little girl, what will your mom think if she found you bouncing on my dick like this?" His dirty words made you cry out in disgust mixed with arousal. He swore under his breath upon feeling you clench on his dick. You felt So wet and So fucking tight, he swore he could taste heaven at the top of his tongue. he watched your legs flailing around while he forced himself into your tight hole repeatedly, without mercy, the sight so erotic that he could feel his orgasm approaching. He was pounding you into the sheets furiously, all the pent up sexual tension causing havoc on your cervix. You tried to stifle your moans but he was too big and too rough for your tiny, inexperienced body. The pace of his hips became faster and harsher, his grunts and groans reaching a fever pitch, the pressure in his balls ready to burst.

"Take my dick baby, take it like a fucking whore" he punched out with a few more thrusts, his hips stuttering and then stilling inside of you all at once, filling you full of his hot cum. "Ah fuckk fuck" He moaned through his orgasm, he was cumming so much, his hips still moving back and forth. Before you knew it, he began thrusting into you again, your cries of pleasure turning him into an insatiable beast.

"cant stop fucking this cunt" He groaned and started edging you, angling his hips in such a way that it felt good but not enough to make you cum. Your eyes were blurry and you started sobbing in frustration, moving your hips up to grind against his dick. His calloused palms held your waist and helped you move your hips on him, stilling his movements while he watched you fuck yourself dumb on his cock. Your eyes were dizzy with pleasure, small whimpers falling from your swollen lips, but you couldn't stop rotating your hips, thrusting upwards to make his dick reach your delicious spots. Sunghoon clenched his jaw at the sight of his cum leaking out of your hungry hole while he was still buried inside you. the way your arms struggled against the handcuffs above your head while your hips chased his hard cock was driving him crazy in lust. You looked like his fucking wet dream.

"Yeah, keep fucking it baby, fuck it like it's yours" He grunted, moving your body back and forth on his dick like a fleshlight. It felt too good, his dick throbbing inside your warm pussy. He wanted to start fucking you again but his pervert instincts took over instead. You whined in disappointment as he pulled out of your needy whole, your pussy trying to suck him back in. You watched in confusion while sunghoon came back to the bed with his phone, he turned on your tv which was set up right across your bed and connected his device to it. reaching above you to free your hands, he threw the handcuffs to the side.

You hissed and rubbed against the red marks on your wrists, freezing mid movement when you heard moans coming from your tv screen. Your moans, specifically. Your wide eyes turned towards the tv and you saw yourself. Saw your own body tied up to the bed as sunghoon pushed himself inside of you, rutting against you while you cried. In disbelief, you looked over to sunghoon and gulped at the scene in front of you. His hand was wrapped around his thick dick, jerking off to the footage of you two having sex. Hot arousal rushed through your lower body and your hand moved down to apply pressure to your throbbing clit. You should have been angry at the fact that you had been recorded without your consent, but you didn't think sunghoon cared much about consent and its synonyms.

"Fuck yeah" sunghoon groaned, this was hotter than any porn he had ever wanked off to. The way your tiny body struggled underneath his big one on the screen, his dick moving in and out of you without mercy, your eyes rolling to the back of your head while his hips clenched as he fucked into you passionately. All of it was too much. He could see you rubbing your clit, getting off to the obscene sounds on your tv. He squeezed his tip and cursed "fuck baby make yourself cum, it's so fucking hot isn't it?"

You nodded and whined, your moans overlapping with the moans coming from the speaker. Too good, it felt too good. You rubbed your clit faster, looking to the side to watch sunghoon jerk off furiously. His palm moved up and down, playing with his own balls, his entire chest covered in a sheen of sweat. "Im-im so close" you whined and he groaned, watching you gather his cum out of your abused hole with your free hand and suck onto your fingers, basically slurping on his cum. "Oh my fucking god " He sighed, his own eyes closing shut at the pleasure.

The Squelching sounds on the screen mixed with the filthy sounds of you both masturbating like perverts pushed you over the edge. The orgasm hit you like a damn train, your back arched off the bed while you kept rubbing yourself to ride your high. The filthy taste of sunghoon's cum on your tongue was too good. Sunghoon came just moments later, eyes fixated on your swollen pussy, spilling all over his palms and thighs "oh yeah, shit shit shit" he hissed while he rubbed himself raw.

Small sighs of pleasure and satisfaction filled the space between your heated bodies. As you both came down from your mind blowing orgasms, the bodies continued rutting against each other on the screen. It was starting to get hot again. The passion permeating your senses. You squirmed and met sunghoon's eyes which were already set on you. They were dark and blown in lust. Before you could say anything, he was hovering over your spent body again, rubbing his cockhead against your swollen clit, making you whimper in overstimulation.

"let's fuck while we watch us fuck"

[yandere-sins]

Angel Shot

This was just a quick warm up before breakfast after I doomscrolled social media :) If you don't know what an "Angel Shot" is, feel free to google it, it's actually a very nice concept.

Warning: Yandere, Fem!Reader, Non-Con Touches, Alcohol, Force Feeding Drinking, Refusal of assistance to a person in need, Humiliation

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

"An 'Angel Shot', please."

The languid polishing of the beer glass came to a slow halt as the bartender processed your order. Your heart was beating so hard that your chest began to hurt from the pressure. The older gentleman looked up, staring straight into your soul with eyes that had lost all their sparkle and all the usual energy one possessed. Those were the eyes of someone who had seen too much in his life and fought too hard to survive.

He reminded you of the self you'd be in the future.

Curling your sweaty palms into fists on top of the counter, you opened your mouth again, repeating, "Angel Shot." Although it was much quieter this time, barely audible over the loud live music and talking patrons in the bar, you knew he heard you.

This was your only chance. You didn't care why that criminal took you to his favorite bar instead of letting you go. Didn't know why he'd care about going out to drink and socialize after you cried out all your anger. He'd just been sitting on the couch without so much of a reaction while you screamed and raged, pleaded, and sobbed, only to get up and announce you were going out, grabbing you by the arm and dragging you with him.

The bartender finally set down the glass, pulling the toothpick from between his lips before facing you, recognizing your presence with his attention. "No such thing here, Sweety."

You watched as his gaze fell over your shoulder, and he gave a short nod to someone behind you. Even though you didn't need to turn around to know it was that psycho who had forced you into his car and made you share his bed ever since, you still glanced back, catching his eyes on you, gaze never wavering. Even as he pushed a hand of party mix into his mouth, he kept staring, a knowing grin spreading as he wiped the crumbs from his lips.

"Nothing personal, Love," the bartender drew your attention back to him. The sound of glasses being set in front of you—a large one obviously filled with beer and a small shot glass with transparent fluids swiveling inside—was what made you focus on him again. Toothpick back in his mouth, the bartender held out a piece of paper towards you, nudging it for you to grab.

"Can't make the boss angry."

And with that, he left to tend to other people along the bar. Tears threatened to well up again in your eyes as you stared at the paper, folding it open to reveal a rankly written 'Angel Shot' on it. You stuffed it between your skin and waistband, not wanting the "boss" to know what it said.

Grabbing the two drinks, you had no choice but to bring them over to the table, his smirk widening at the sight of you serving him. You thought about dumping it all over his head, or at least his crotch, so it would look like he pissed himself and stir up a commotion. But if even the bartender, a savior of lost souls, refused to help you because he was too afraid of your captor, then you doubted anyone here would be on your side.

Setting down the drinks next to the criminal, you banged your hips into the table as his hand fell to the back of your thigh, not expecting the sudden touch. It roused some heads, but once they glanced in your direction and then at him, they all lowered again.

"Thanks for the drinks, Babe," he chuckled, hand driving ever higher on your leg, his pointer stretching away from the others to dig into your supple ass cheek before he ultimately grabbed it with his whole hand.

You swatted at his hand, pushing it down. Shame betraying your expression, you whipped around, ready to complain that you were in public, when this fiend hooked a finger under your waistband and pulled you roughly forward. Your feet threatened to stumble over themselves if not for another arm snaking around your midriff, catching you mid-air, and pulling you onto his lap.

But to your horror, the second you regained control of your body, you felt his finger curl beneath your waistband, the scrapping of paper against your skin unmistakably.

"No, wait!" you gasped, trying to push the note down and pull his hand out of your clothes, but he was quicker. Curling his pointer around the paper, he tugged it out and leaned back in the chair, causing you to go after him to retrieve the message by climbing entirely on top of him. Too late did you realize your mistake, his free arm tightening around your back and pressing you down with force so you couldn't escape, couldn't bring any distance between your bodies, rendering you caught.

"What do we have here?" he teased, and for some reason, you thought he already knew. With only one hand, your captor managed to unfold the piece of paper, leaning his head back to read it. "Ah~" he hummed, sounding almost satisfied. "Clever girl."

With that, he simply let go of the paper, allowing it to flutter to the ground without a care. You watched it sink, your feelings betraying you by shooting helpless tears into your eyes as you felt all your effort being in vain. The paper may have drifted down gently, but it was as if a ton of weight was crushed down on you simultaneously.

"Now, now. You're supposed to have fun. Drink, dance, enjoy some time away from home."

"How could I—"

"Ah, ah, no talking back. Have a drink and be merry."

Swatting his hand against your rear, you jolted, fingers curling into his shoulders where you had found hold. This situation was so infuriating, the way you could do nothing against that bastard. You watched him briefly turn away from you to grab one of the glasses, the cocky, self-assured smile never wavering while you felt your own face go through the first four stages of grief.

He held up the shot glass in front of you, the undefined liquid gently swaying inside, but you tightened your lips, refusing to take what he was giving you. "Angel Shot for you. That's what you wanted, right?"

The mockery wasn't lost on you, and it must have shown as the criminal's grin widened. Then, suddenly, he sighed, shaking his head. His next words were quieter, but the impact was tremendous. He'd not let you argue this.

"Don't be a party pooper," he mumbled. "Everyone's watching, enjoying the show. Let them welcome you to the gang in their own way."

Still, you refused. He held it up for a few more seconds before sighing again. Things happened quickly as he loosened his arm around your waist, only for his hand to shoot up to your head, fingers burying into your hair. With a swift chug, he poured the liquor into his mouth before crashing it against yours. There was no doubt what he wanted to do, the fluids burning against your lips as you tried hard to keep it outside.

But the next thing you knew was your nose being pinched, a gasp escaping you as the burning sensation spread all over your mouth. It hurt all the way down your throat, bitterly and angrily, as the alcohol raked against the sensitive skin of your mouth. You'd never tasted anything so foul, disgust twisting your gut.

It was only made worse by the probing tongue licking up the remnants of the alcohol, perhaps spreading it further. Your head was wrangled by the grip on your hair until your body was bent and bowed in a way that allowed your captor to thoroughly abuse the position you were in, never breaking the toxic kiss as long as he wanted. Breathing was hard; everything hurt. Tears streamed down your temples and forehead, following the gravity while your head was strung upside down.

You didn't enjoy a second of it while your captor only groped you harder with his free hand, letting a low groan rumble from his to your chest. You wished you could have thrown up in his mouth, but it was simply impossible to do anything. When he finally released you, with only one arm around you and gripping your ass to steady your body, you coughed and gagged while he peacefully sat back, picked up the beer, and took a few sips.

Stupidly, you didn't think twice when you were offered a random glass from somewhere, your mouth and nose burning with the aftermath of that shot. If there was no chance of immediately evacuating someone who asked for an Angel Shot, shouldn't the shot not at least have been water to not enhance the predicament of the poor person suffering from it? You didn't even know what it was that had assaulted you so, but it did seem to have amused the crowd, their cheering and applause finally catching your ears.

Eager to stop the pain, you took a swig of the drink that had been handed to you, the disgusting, volatile taste of beer spreading over your tongue. This time, you could stop and spit, not enough to throw up, but at least enough to cause some laughs and "Ew!"s to erupt from the bar patrons.

You pushed the glass back into your captor's hand, not caring if the fluids swapped onto his clothes or anything, as you pushed yourself away. From your excursion to the bar, you knew where the bathroom was, but all you heard were the whistles of the people around you and the laughter of your captor as you stormed off with more tears sullying your face.

This was only the beginning of the torture, you assumed. The lack of knowledge of why it was you that he kidnapped and why he was treating you so cruelly was slowly tearing apart your mental stability, but at least in the bathroom, you'd be able to cry in peace and regain some composure. And most importantly: wash out your mouth from the filth they served at this rundown bar.

"Don't take too long," you heard your captor shout after you, and you shot a glare back over your shoulder as you reached the bathroom door. He was grinning, watching you as he sipped his beer. There was a stain on his clothes, and although small, that victory soothed some of the fury you felt. But his eyes were burning embers. There was a fire in his gaze as he fixated on you, never looking away, barely blinking. You didn't understand how he could feel this passionate while being in a place so void of excitement, but it gave you goosebumps.

You said nothing as you slipped through the gap in the door, but the last thing you heard was, "Bartender! One round of "Angel Shots" for the bar!"

Followed by the roaring and cheers of the crowd, letting you know that no one here was on your side.

[alsofoundinpeas]

I Don't Need To Know

Summary: Spencer Reid has no choice but to watch the love of his life fall in love with another man. 

CONTENT WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI!! This fic is intended for adult audiences. Major character death. HEAVY angst. Bittersweet ending? Graphic depictions of violence (for maybe two lines). Fingering (f receiving). P in v sex/unprotected sex (in terms of a condom, birth control is mentioned). Loss of virginity (both m and f). Creampie (god I hate that word ugh!!). Slight age gap (roughly five years). Argument scene that may be triggering for readers that have experienced SA or manipulation from a partner (nothing of that nature actually happens, but just in case).

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

A/N: This is inspired by Will He by Joji, so I highly recommend listening to it while reading. I cried several times while writing this, but I felt it needed to be done so here it is. :’) Please tell me what you think! If you enjoy it, please like, reblog, and share it with your friends! <3 Thank you and I love you all :)

I got knots all up in my chest… Just know, I’m trying my best…

Spencer had always found the saying “If you love something, set it free. If it comes back, it’s yours. If not, it was never meant to be” absurd. He couldn’t fathom willingly letting go of something he loved on the off chance that it would come back to him. Not after having everything he’d ever loved ripped from his clutches throughout his lifetime. To him, love wasn’t about releasing someone to see if they’d return. It was about holding on as though his very survival depended on it—like a feral cat finally finding food after days of hunger, sinking its teeth in and never letting go, no matter the cost. 

It wasn’t until today that Spencer finally understood the meaning of that stupid phrase. And he wished with every intricate thread of his being that he didn’t. 

Five years. Five long, agonizing years had passed. So why was he here now? Why, after what felt like an eternity of pleading for just one more moment with her, did the universe decide now was the time to give him what he wanted? 

Ironically, the timing only drove home another phrase he’d always hated: “Be careful what you wish for.” 

There she was, as beautiful as the day he’d met her, sitting in the corner of what had once been their favorite café. The sunlight streaming through the windows catches on her ring, the enticing glinting of the jewelry drawing his eyes away from her face momentarily. His heart is in his throat. She’s still wearing the wedding ring he’d given her, twisting it in the same nervous fashion she always used to. 

And there across from her is a man that isn’t him making her smile. 

‘Cause when you look… When you laugh… When you smile… I’ll bring you back…

Spencer Reid had never been a particularly angry man. He had his moments—who didn’t?—but he usually considered himself level-headed, patient. But now, watching Y/N hide a bashful smile behind the rim of her mug as she gazed at the man across from her, all Spencer could feel was rage. Raw, unbridled rage. It flared up inside him as her head tipped back, the sound of her laughter crashing over him like a tidal wave, stirring his veins with a violent rush. The same sound he’d yearned to hear again for five fucking years. And it was all because of him—Ben. 

That was his girl. His perfect, beautiful girl. The love of his life. His angel. 

All Spencer could do was stand there, feeling every broken shard of his non-existent heart pierce his chest. 

And now I’m sad… And I’m a mess… And now we high… That’s why I left… That’s why I left…

It wasn’t meant to be like this. Spencer had never wanted to leave her. But that choice wasn’t his to make. 

That cold, cruel September night six years ago had robbed Spencer of his very existence. 

Everything that could have gone wrong during that case did. The bullet wasn’t meant for him, but he took it anyway. He had traded his life in exchange for JJ’s. It wasn’t even meant to be heroic. It wasn’t done out of love. It was just instinct. It’s who he was as a person. 

Was. 

The word leaves a bitter taste in the back of his throat. Because that’s his reality now. He was a person; an agent, a professor, a son, a husband…

Now he’s… well, that he didn’t quite understand. As a man of science, Spencer was stumped by what he could even call his existence now. Calling himself a ghost felt silly—he felt as alive as the day he’d died. And yet, that was essentially what he was. A whisper of the person he’d once been. A soul caught between worlds. 

Spencer could still feel the exact moment his soul wrenched free from its physical tether to the world. Even recalling it sent a shiver down his spine. It hadn’t been peaceful, as so many people claimed in interviews. No… it had been agony in its purest form; white hot and searing as his very essence clawed its way out from his ribs. There was no light waiting for him to step into it and find peace.

Instead, he had watched helplessly as the team he called his family swarmed his dead body, uselessly screaming for a medic as the crimson puddle underneath him grew and smeared beneath their hands as they knelt beside him. He had watched Y/N swing open their door that fateful night, the excited grin on her face vanishing as she came face to face with a tearful Emily instead of the husband she’d been eagerly waiting for. And he had watched the guilt eat away at JJ as their eyes met at his funeral, the hatred on Y/N’s face so raw it made Spencer’s own stomach twist. 

Despite the Bureau's insistence, she took charge of every detail—planning his funeral in a way that honored everything Spencer would have wanted. Y/N held Diana as she wept over her baby boy's body. She delivered a eulogy that left even Spencer in shambles. She was the first person to arrive and the last to leave, waiting until everyone had left to sink to her knees beside his casket and howl her grievances. 

For that first year, Y/N was as strong as she could be during the day. She handled everything that needed to be done, as long as the sun was still up. But when night fell, and the suffocating silence of their empty home settled in… that’s when she’d finally let herself break. 

Spencer had never been a religious man, but the year after his death felt like an endless descent into his own personal hell. He would never escape the sound of those gut-wrenching screams. He cursed whatever force had condemned him to an eternity where he could do nothing but watch, powerless as Y/N crumpled to the floor night after night, her wails so desperate it seemed as though she thought breaking the sound barrier might somehow bring him back to life. 

All he could do was stay beside her, silently pleading for his touch to somehow reach her, his hands brushing over her again and again, unnoticed and unfelt. 

Time was no longer a concept to Spencer. 

The limits of his existence perplexed him. He couldn’t roam freely, couldn’t go where he pleased—he could only follow where Y/N went. It was as if his very soul was bound to hers, linked by some invisible string that kept him tied to her even in death. It brought him both joy and sorrow: joy in the fact that he could still watch her, still admire the way she carried on, and sorrow because she would never know he was there, silently urging her forward, so incredibly proud of her strength. 

The longer he lingered, the more control he gained over his abilities. It started with the smallest things—a strand of hair lifting with the brush of his fingers, a faint chill against her skin as he cradled her face while she slept. But soon, it became more. Doors creaked open as he stepped into rooms behind her, and objects shifted ever so slightly from their places when he pushed with just enough force. 

There were times when she seemed to sense him—moments Spencer cherished more than anything. In those fleeting instances, it felt as though she could see him, even though he knew she couldn’t. Every day, rain or shine, she visited his grave, and when she spoke to him, her gaze would drift forward, as if she were looking into the honey-colored eyes she once loved. Her hands would rest open in her lap, as though she knew he was holding them. When she was home, she’d speak aloud every thought that came to mind, as though she knew he could hear every word that fell from her perfect lips. And he always responded as if she could hear him in return. That was their new life for the first year after his death. 

After a year and one day, he was gone. 

That’s where his understanding of the phrase “If you love something, set it free. If it comes back, it’s yours. If not, it was never meant to be” came from. It was because she had set him free. 

One whole year had passed. The hardest year of Y/N’s life. She had knelt by his grave, laying fresh flowers with trembling hands, her tears falling freely for hours. When she finally stood to leave, her legs unsteady beneath her, she pressed a soft kiss to his headstone. Through her tears, she whispered how much she missed him, how he never left her thoughts, and how she’d never stop loving him—but above all, she wished he could be at peace. And on the night following the anniversary of his passing, her wish was granted. He had faded into nothingness, existing only in her dreams and memories for five long years. 

But now, he was back. Because he had always been hers. 

Will your tongue still remember the taste of my lips? Will your shadow remember the swing of my hips? 

Spencer remembered their first time like it was yesterday, though he wasn’t sure if he could thank his eidetic memory or the fact that it was because of how remarkable it had been for the memory lingering so vividly...

“You’re lying! You’ve really never had sex before?” 

Y/N squawked the words incredulously as she sat atop Spencer’s lap, grinning down at the stammering mess of a man beneath her. Spencer’s hands flexed against her hips, unintentionally squeezing as he took a deep breath to calm himself. 

They were inside Spencer’s apartment, having enjoyed the museum and dinner but still craving each other’s company too badly to end the night there. What started as sweet, innocent pecks pressed up against the kitchen counter had quickly devolved into ravenous, passionate kisses that had them stumbling towards the couch. It was going so well… until Spencer panicked after Y/N had whispered into his ear asking how far he wanted things to go. 

That resulted in him spewing out the fact that he, at twenty-six years old, was a virgin.

“No, I haven’t! Why is that so hard to believe?” Spencer huffs, his small smile belying his annoyed tone. 

It was their sixth date total in a span of four months, but it was their first date as an actual couple. Spencer had reluctantly agreed to let Penelope set him up on a blind date after his failed attempt at taking JJ out had shattered any of the confidence he’d built up, leaving the man petrified of taking his chances romantically again. He suspected Penelope’s pity for him was why she was setting up said date to begin with, but he quickly found himself grateful that he went. 

Y/N had been friends with Penelope for years, having bonded online over some indie punk rock band that was no longer around and developing a close friendship from there despite their age difference. When Penelope found out Y/N had moved to Virginia and was single, she couldn’t resist setting the two up. 

It’s Y/N’s turn to stammer as she quickly thinks of a response. “I, uh… you’re just so handsome that I naturally assumed you’d had sex before.” 

Spencer blinks up at her skeptically, trying to detect even the faintest clue that the otherworldly woman in his lap was lying to him. All he found was nervous adoration as she stared back down at him, her cheeks flushed a beautiful shade of pink. It suited her. He wanted to cause it more often. 

“I had, um… I graduated super early from both high school and college, so I didn’t do much dating.” 

Instead of the judgment Spencer expected to see spread across her face, Y/N simply just hummed in understanding, her eyes curious as they watched him. He’d elaborate more on his unfortunate (for lack of a better term) adolescence later. For now, he just wanted to keep from scaring the poor girl off of his lap so he could taste her sweet chapstick again. 

“I see…” Y/N murmurs before continuing, shifting forward slightly with a smirk. “I’ll let you in on a little secret. I’m also a virgin.” 

Spencer’s eyes widened almost comically as he gawked up at her. His heart stutters in his chest, his mouth going dry. His tongue pokes out in a meek attempt at wetting his lips, his voice cracking as he responds. 

“Et tu, Y/N?” 

Oh fuck. Spencer hadn’t meant to let the lame reference slip from his mouth. She just made him so nervous that he couldn’t think straight, and Rome had been heavily on his mind since she had perched herself in his lap. Specifically Roman goddesses, because she looked like she should be amongst them on their thrones. Surely she was going to leave now—-

Loud, genuine laughter bubbles from Y/N’s lips, the noise startling Spencer as she tips her head back and her hands grip his shoulders to stabilize herself. She thought it was funny. She thought he was funny. 

“That’s, like, the last thing I expected you to say,” Y/N managed once her laughter had simmered down into giggles. “But, to answer your question… I too have really never had sex before.” 

Spencer knew that it wasn’t due to a lack of suitors. The woman was sex personified; the archetype of beauty and seduction wrapped into one perfect being. The twitching in his pants brought his attention back to the situation at hand. He could ask her later why that was. For now, he brought his focus back to her. 

In an uncharacteristically bold move, Spencer tilted his head up to brush their noses together. “Would you… would you want to?” 

It didn’t take a profiler to notice the hitch in her breath or the almost imperceptible squeezing of her thighs around his hips. Her pupils were already blown, her lower lip trembling from what Spencer prayed was anticipation and not regret as his question settled over her. The silence stretched between them, the seconds feeling like hours in Spencer’s overly anxious mind. 

He’d done it now. He’d gone off and opened his stupid mouth and frightened the one woman he could actually see himself having a future with because the head straining against his zipper overruled the head housing his supposed genius level IQ. The apologies were already forming in the back of his throat, but they weren’t needed because she— she was kissing him? 

“God, yes. Please,” Y/N murmured eagerly against his lips, effectively clearing every cohesive thought from his brain. 

If Spencer thought her words were enough to bring upon his undoing, he was sorely mistaken. The grinding of her hips against his erection ignited something inside of him that he had no idea existed. It was feral, drowning out all of his other emotions and replacing them with one thing: primal, unfiltered desire. 

Spencer understood now why men used to start wars over women. 

With each gasp that fell upon his ears, Spencer pledged his allegiance to her. Every stuttered moan that came into existence from his hips rutting up into her clothed core fueled his devotion to her. It was animalistic, the way his hands gripped her ass and pulled her tighter against his body as his mouth devoured her now, every cell swimming through his veins screaming for more. More of her touch, more of her taste, more of her sounds... God, those heavenly sounds that had Spencer finally believing in salvation, if only in the form of her skin against his.  

Tongues danced together as layers were hastily stripped away. Layers of insecurity. Layers of self-doubt. Layers of uncertainty. Their clothes fell to the ground as though the fabric burned them, clumsy hands fidgeting with buttons and tugging at zippers with a vendetta. 

Those layers that had crumbled so easily were replaced instead with the firm knowledge that this was exactly where they were meant to be: in each other’s arms, trembling and panting as their world’s trajectory tilted so violently it uprooted them from their upright position, knocking them down against the leather cushions as their bodies attempted to mend their separated souls back into one. 

Spencer choked on the words he wanted to worship her with, so instead he used the most primitive sense he could to get his message across: touch. His lips sucked purpling reminders into the crook of her neck of what they both knew to be true now: He is hers just as much as she is his. Lithe fingers tugged the soaked fabric of her lace panties down until they landed in a heap with their other clothes. Those same fingers pause at the crest of her most intimate spot, his eyes meeting hers with a silent plea. 

Y/N found herself in the same position, her words failing her as they were strangled in her throat by the overwhelming adoration she felt for the man hovering above her. Instead of chanting her desire for Spencer to please touch her, she canted her hips up in approval. 

Her moans were swallowed by swollen lips that claimed the sound straight from her body as nimble fingers dug themselves into the deepest parts of her. Their rhythm was clumsy but steadfast, her hips bucking against his hand in jerky movements as the palm of his hand pressed against her clit. Spencer’s own hips ground against the bare skin of her thigh, shielded only by the immature fabric of his equation-covered boxers. 

Spencer hadn’t for a second thought the night was going to go like this. If he had known he’d have the definition of art itself clawing at his shoulders and panting into his mouth while he made her legs tremble beneath him, he wouldn’t have worn what he deemed his lucky boxers. At least they had done their job, he supposed. 

Their lips separated completely as a guttural moan wrenched its way from Y/N’s throat, her body beginning to thrash wildly underneath him as the tension in her lower belly coiled tighter. Spencer wouldn’t allow her first time to happen on his couch. She was much too precious for that. But he’d already made the decision to unravel her at least once while they were there, to bring her over the edge before taking her into his bedroom so that he could experience the glorious sight of her falling apart more than once tonight. 

Spencer was a virgin, not a prude. He’d seen porn before. He’d read erotic novels. Anything he could use to try to prepare himself for the real experience, he did. But nothing could have prepared him for the downright visceral reaction Y/N had as his fingers curled and brushed against the rough patch of skin inside of her that caused the tension building in her body to snap. Her cries of pleasure tore through him as her pussy clenched around his fingers, his free hand leaving its place beside her head to keep her thighs pried open. He quickly shifted up onto his knees to watch her taking his fingers as she came, taking the pleasure he inflicted upon her. 

He sang her praises while slowing his pace, cooing softly at her as he stroked her hair and worked her through the aftershocks of her orgasm. Only when she was squirming and whining beneath him did he finally remove his fingers, sucking them into his mouth greedily. Y/N’s mouth gaped open as her chest heaved, her eyes locked on Spencer as his tongue lapped over his fingers, enjoying her essence with a groan. Her body sagged into the couch, a delighted laugh spilling from her exhausted frame as she smiled up at him, her eyes twinkling in the dim light of his living room. 

“Do you still want to keep going?” Spencer breathed as he gazed down at her, his cheeks flushed and eyes full of something that made Y/N's heart flutter. “B-because we can stop there if you want. I just… I want to do what makes you happy.” 

Above her was the man she’d recognized, soft and timid, but now with a newfound air of confidence in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. Above her was the man that she wanted more than anything. Above her was the man that she knew, without a shadow of doubt, would be her husband. 

“Spencer… if you don’t fuck me right now, then I’ll die a virgin, right here on your couch... and it will be all your fault.” 

Spencer’s hearty chuckles filled the room, his nose twitching as he grinned down at the dramatic woman. He simply couldn’t let that be her fate, could he? 

Shaking his head, he stooped down to press a gentle kiss to her nose before standing from the couch, offering her his (clean) hand. Y/N’s face twisted in confusion as she stared up at him, still reeling from the earth-shattering orgasm surprisingly given to her by the same man who’d eagerly rambled about the lore behind Doctor Who on their first date when she’d mentioned she hadn’t seen it. 

“Not here, silly girl. The bedroom,” He whispered. 

He guided her down the dark hallway as though he were escorting the most priceless treasure known to man to his bed, and in his eyes, he was. His hand stayed steady on her hip as she swayed lightly, her body pressed into his side as he opened the door with shaky hands. Any confidence Spencer had managed to muster throughout the night vanished as they crossed the threshold into his bedroom, his teeth gnawing at his lower lip gently as his courage began to crack. 

In an almost startling display of being seen, something Spencer had never experienced before, Y/N looped her arms around his neck and tugged him into a kiss that simultaneously stole the breath from his lungs and filled him with the air he needed to breathe again, effectively calming his nerves.

“It’s okay,” She reassured him against his lips. “It’s just me.” 

She walked them backward until the backs of her knees pressed into his cool comforter, taking over where Spencer so willingly handed her the reigns while he regained his momentum. She sat on the edge of his bed, her hands pressed into his hips to keep him from following after her. Her eyes met his, the moonlight streaming through his bedroom window illuminating her as though she were a vision, a figment of his imagination that he’d conjured up in the dead of night, ready to haunt his every waking moment once he inevitably woke up to an empty bed. She was too good to be true. 

Spencer’s hands fell to rest on her shoulders, just to give himself proof that Y/N was real and that he hadn’t dreamed her up or somehow followed in his mother’s footsteps and succumbed to early onset schizophrenia. 

She was real and she was here, eye level with the tent in his boxers and naked as the day she was born, her warm breath fanning across the smattering of hair trailing down from his belly button to below his underwear. His muscles tensed and twitched as she smirked up at him, pressing a tender kiss to the head of his cock through the thin fabric. His entire body flinched from that one touch, his brows furrowing together as he hissed quietly. 

“N-not that I wouldn’t love to feel your mouth on me—“ Spencer’s pitch raised as her hands found the elastic of his waistband, pulling his boxers down his legs. “But I… I won’t last if you do.” 

The fondness in her eyes quelled any humiliation he felt from having uttered those words. 

Placing a kiss to his hip, she nodded in understanding before shuffling backwards to lay in the middle of his bed, with him kneeling onto the mattress after her. The sight of her— stretched out and languid and looking at him as if she wanted to ravage him— had him sending up a silent ‘thank you’ to whatever in the universe had deemed him worthy enough of having this divine of a woman in his life. 

As Spencer reaches for his nightstand to grab a condom, Y/N stammers, grabbing his attention. He watches for a moment as she flounders over her words, his brow furrowing in concern at her sudden diffidence. 

“Are you sure you still want to do this?”

“I’m on birth control if you want to skip the condom!” 

Spencer inhales sharply at the same time she smiles sheepishly up at him, her blurted words almost making him finish before they’d even started. He holds her gaze, tracing her irises for any hint of hesitancy. When he finds none, he nods once, swallowing hard. 

“I— uh. Um...” 

It was rare that Spencer Reid was rendered speechless, but Y/N had managed to do it with just eleven words. He clears his throat, trying again. 

“Yes. Yes, I would like to skip the condom. Only if you’re absolutely sure that’s what you want.” 

“Yes. It is. I pinky promise.” 

Y/N holds up her pinky for him, the sight so endearing he can practically feel his heart melt away, dripping in a sticky mess inside him. He just grins, linking his pinky with hers before he moves to settle over her once more. 

Her fingers tangle themselves in his hair as his elbows dig into the mattress beside her ribs. The flushed head of his cock bumps against her clit as he reaches down to line himself up at her entrance, a small whine leaving her lips at the sensation. He repeats the action, dizzy from the sound of her soft noises. She was still soaked from their time on the couch, a small feeling of pride welling in Spencer’s chest at the knowledge that not only did he make her cum, but he’d kept her wet while they made it here. 

His lips meet hers in a searing kiss, the both of them quivering with anticipation at giving themselves so intimately to someone for the first time. He was happy it was her. And she was happy it was him. 

Spencer couldn’t remember a time where his mind had ever been quiet. All he knew was incessant thoughts and worries, unable to put a halt to the chaos jumbling around his brain. But as he pressed forward and sunk into Y/N for the first time, his entire mind went blank. White static crowded the spaces where various facts and tidbits of information had been stored, the only thing he was able to focus on now being the sheer ecstasy coursing through his body from being inside of her. 

His mouth hung open as his eyes rolled back into his head, his hips stilling as they pressed flush against hers. She mirrored his response, squeaking out an “oh!” as her walls fluttered around the intrusion instinctively. He throbbed in response, his head dropping to rest in the crook of her neck, unable to stop the pitiful whimper that escaped from behind clenched teeth. 

She was so tight. So wet. So warm. 

Sparks of pleasure zinged up and down his spine as he remained still, waiting patiently for Y/N to adjust to both his size and to the feeling of being filled for the first time in general. He’d wait as long as she needed him to. All he wanted was for her to feel good. To enjoy this as much as he was. 

He was a humble man, truly. But even he wasn’t too shy to admit he’d been gifted with a size that was bigger than average. Not necessarily just in length, falling just shy of seven inches, but in girth as well.  

Spencer peppered soft kisses up and down her flushed skin, feeling her rapid pulse beneath his lips. He was sure she could feel his own heartbeat pounding against his ribs from where their bare chests were pressed together. Her nipples were taut, pressing into his skin enticingly. He wanted to touch them. Taste them. But he’d wait until she was ready. He didn’t want to overwhelm her. 

At her gentle nod, Spencer lifted his head to press his forehead against hers, their lips brushing together as he pulls his hips back. The sensation of her grip tightening in his hair as he pushed forward does more to him than he’d care to admit, but he still lets her hear just how affected he is by her. With a shaky moan, Spencer repeats the motion, easing out of her before gently rocking back into her. He keeps this up for a few minutes, her sharp breaths dissolving into muted moans of her own. 

“You can— you can move faster if y-you want.” 

Spencer’s eyes flutter shut at her words, and he’s pressing a fervent kiss to her lips before he begins to really move. The sound of skin smacking together begins to fill the air as he ruts his hips into hers, his walls bearing witness to every pleasured noise that spills between them. His pace is frenzied, his rhythm stuttered, but it feels so good that neither of them really care. 

Y/N’s nails roamed his body now, alternating between dragging harsh lines into the planes of his back and burying into his shoulders to leave little tender half moons in their wake. Spencer yearned to pull every single noise that he could from her throat, planting his hands beside her head and hefting himself up for better leverage before his lips wrapped around her right nipple. He sucks harshly at the pert bud, reveling in the desperate whimper it causes. 

Spencer grunts when she clenches around him, letting his mouth glide over to her neglected breast, his hips hammering into hers now as she cries out his name over and over. He was close… so, so close. But he needed to make her cum one more time before he’d allow himself to. He needed to know what it felt like for her to fall apart around his cock. With every ounce of willpower he had, Spencer slows his hips to a stop inside of her. 

Y/N whined her discontent at his sudden pause, her eyes opening to blink hazily up at him. “Why’d you… why’d you stop?” She panted, her fingers finding and twisting her own nipples as if she couldn’t help but to touch herself. 

Spencer muffled a curse at the sight, sitting back on his haunches as he stared down at the woman beneath him with reverence. 

“Flip onto your stomach for me, angel.”

She does as instructed, wiggling her hips coyly as Spencer grabs a pillow from the head of the bed and stuffs it underneath her hips to prop her up better, ensuring she’d be comfortable. Once she’s settled on her front, Spencer wasted no time in pressing himself back into her, both of them releasing a moan so loud he’s surprised the walls don’t shake. Thank God he didn’t have neighbors right now. 

He eased himself down so his chest is pressed to her back, lavishing her neck and shoulder in open mouthed kisses while his hips drilled into her. This angle was deeper, allowing him to plow directly into her g-spot as she writhed and begged incoherently beneath him. He laced his left hand with hers, shoving them into his mattress. His other hand stuffed itself between the pillow and her wriggling body until the pads of his fingers found her clit, his breath coming out in sharp pants into her ear. 

Y/N felt delirious with pleasure, bucking her hips back in a feeble attempt to meet his. He began whispering into her ear about how good she felt around him, thanking her for allowing him to fuck her, praising her for taking him so well… 

His words paired with his fingers circling her clit have her second orgasm ripping through her body with so much ferocity that tears begin to fall down her cheeks, her eyes squeezing shut and her hand clutching his so tightly her knuckles whitened as she wailed into a pillow, gushing around him. 

Spencer let out his own guttural moan at the feeling, spilling into her with a shout as he planted his head between her shoulder blades, his hips weakly thrusting into her as they rode out their climaxes. 

He held her until her tremors stopped. He kissed her forehead before he darted off to the bathroom to get a warm rag to clean her with. He thanked her in soft whispers as her eyes began to drift shut before he’d even finished cleaning his mess between her thighs. 

And he knew, watching the gorgeous woman before him sleep so soundly in his bed after they’d just defiled each other’s innocence, that he was looking at his future wife. 

Will your lover caress you the way that I did? Will you notice my charm if he slips up one bit? 

The air was thick with tension as Y/N stared at Ben, her chest heaving and eyes watering at the hurt look on his face. Spencer watched from the corner, his concern for his wife outweighing the jealousy he had previously felt when he watched the couple slip into her— though he still selfishly thought of it as their— bed. Y/N had been dating Ben for three months now. That made for three months that Spencer ached so heavily he’d sometimes wish he could fade back into nothingness if it meant he didn’t have to watch the love of his life with another man. 

The furthest Ben and Y/N had gone physically was a few pecks here and there, with Y/N always being the one to draw away and cut the kisses short. Ben had played the nice guy act, reassuring her that he understood her hesitance and that he’d be okay doing whatever she was comfortable with. Spencer despised him. He could see right through Ben’s facade, and if he could do more than nudge a door open, he’d make that hatred known. But he couldn’t. 

Spencer watched on with furrowed brows as Y/N reached a shaky hand over and turned the lamp on her nightstand on, illuminating the dark room in a soft glow that contrasted with the dark energy that began to cloud the small space. Spencer could see it all on Ben’s face: hurt, betrayal, anger. He could see the fear, guilt, and shame on Y/N’s. 

This was the first night Y/N had tried to push past her discomfort so that she could offer Ben more than just false promises of physical intimacy. It started slow, with soft kisses that dissolved into hungrier ones as they laid together in the dark. But the second Ben went to roll on top of her, sliding a hand down her body to pull her hips against his, she panicked. Her body jolted, and her hands had shot out instinctively to shove him off of her, leaving them where they were now in some sort of silent standoff. 

Spencer knew as soon as it had happened just why it did. She had thought of him. His guilt overruled the smug pleasure he’d felt as he watched it unfold. As painful as it had been watching Y/N move on with her life, all he ultimately wanted was for her to be happy. Spencer had been barely thirty-five when he passed, and she had only been thirty. That left almost an entire lifetime ahead for her, and even though he so desperately wanted to have lived that lifetime with her, he had to accept that that wasn’t what fate had in store for them. 

“I-I’m sorry-”

“What the fuck is your problem?” 

Spencer’s jaw tightened at the same time Y/N’s dropped. 

“Excuse me?” Y/N leveled Ben with a narrowed glare, rage flashing in her eyes in place of the shame that had just been there. 

“I get that you have a dead husband. I’ve tried to be patient with you. But fuck! It's been six years, Y/N. It’s time for you to move on,” Ben seethes, his face reddening with a mixture of embarrassment and anger. “I can’t even touch you without you flinging me off of you!” 

It’s as though Y/N is the exact physical embodiment of Spencer’s own emotions, physically reacting in the way that he can’t. She was out of the bed before Spencer could even blink, marching over to the bedroom door and yanking it open. Ben watches in bewilderment, his mind clearly not catching up with what was happening. 

“Get out of my fucking house.” 

Y/N’s voice is cold as she stares menacingly at Ben. When he doesn’t move, she speaks again, her voice louder. “Get out of my fucking house, Ben!” 

Ben stammers, standing from the bed and attempting to plead his case. “Babe, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that, I just-”

“I don’t care. Get out of my house,” Y/N repeats herself, cutting off his pathetic excuses. 

Spencer smirks proudly from beside her.

 That’s his girl. 

Ben sighs, hanging his head and scrubbing his hands frustratedly across his face. 

“If you kick me out over some guy that’s been dead for six years, then we’re over. For good.” 

Spencer cackles at Ben’s proposition, though it can’t be heard by either party in the room. That was his attempt at fixing things? Seriously? Good riddance. He’d drag the guy out of there himself if he could. 

“If I haven’t made myself clear, we’re already over. No one talks about my husband like that. Now get out before I call the police and have you escorted off of my property.” 

It doesn’t take long after that for Ben to tuck his tail and leave, slamming the front door on his way out. Y/N’s steam runs out the second his car pulls out of her driveway, tears streaming down her face as she curls up on her couch. 

Spencer’s own chest twinges uncomfortably as he sits beside her, stroking her hair despite her inability to actually receive the comfort. He didn’t know what hurt more; watching his beautiful, broken girl sob and not being able to stop her tears, or being the cause of the tears himself. He had to do something, anything to let her know he was still there and that he still loved her beyond death. 

The same time Spencer stands is the same time Y/N’s tears pause, a hiccup rocking her frame before she glances up. 

“Spence?” Y/N calls softly. Spencer’s heart would have stopped right there had he not already been dead.

Spencer turns slowly from his place at the end of the couch, his eyes wide and hopeful as he responds. “Yes, angel?” 

His hope fades as he realizes she isn’t looking at him, rather her eyes are just darting around the room. 

“Spencer I… I know it’s been awhile since I’ve talked to you. And for that, I’m so sorry,” Y/N starts, her voice cracking. “I don’t know if you can even hear me. Or if you ever could. But I miss you. I miss you in my bones. I just… you were— are my everything.” 

The lump in her throat grows as the tears begin to stream down her face again. Spencer’s own eyes sting with tears that she’ll never see drip down his face. He swallows hard, making his way over to their— yes, their— bookshelf. 

“I’d give anything to have you back in my arms… I should have begged you to leave the BAU and just teach full-time if it meant I could still have you here, safe and at home. It’s not even a home without you.” 

Y/N sobs freely now, tucking her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around them before she buries her head into them. 

Every ounce of grief, guilt, sadness, and anger from what his death has done to his precious girl fuels Spencer to do something he deemed impossible: he yanks the leatherbound notebook holding their vows inside of it off of the bookshelf, sending it tumbling to the ground in a desperate attempt to show her that he’s still there and that he still loves her. 

The noise causes a yelp to slip from Y/N’s lips, her head jerking up as the book hits the hardwood floor with a loud thump. It had fallen open exactly to where Spencer wanted it to: the page starting his vows to her.  Y/N crawls from the couch to the book, her trembling hands lifting the journal so that she can read the words her husband wrote to her ten years ago. With a deep exhale, she sits cross-legged on the hardwood floor, reading Spencer’s chicken scratch he called handwriting with a heavy heart. And for the first time since his casket closed, she feels a sense of peace wash over her. She was going to be okay, despite it all, because he was hers just as much as she was his.

Continued A/N: Ahh!! Ghost!Spencer my beloved. :') JUST TO CLARIFY: I am not a JJ hater!! It just fit better for the story to have her be the one this all happened for. I hope you guys enjoyed reading this fic just as much as I enjoyed writing it. I look forward to sharing more in the future with you as my blog grows <3

K <3

[c0nfessions-of-a-writing-freak]

Whispering Woods

Pairing: Hiccup 'Horrendous’ Haddock III x Fem!Reader

Wordcount: 1k

Summary: When the world gets too much for you, you have the tendency to 'run' away sometimes. This time you and your dragon don't get the peace and quiet that comes with it for too long as it seems you have an admirer waiting to make their presence known.

Bingo: @eclipsingbingo with the square 'Hand Kisses'

(Y/N): Your name

(D/N): Dragon's name

(D/S): Dragon species

(W/C): Weapon of choice

*Gif does not belong to me

It wasn't unusual for you to take a break from Berk every once in a while. Hopping on (D/N)'s back and flying off without a word to anyone else on the island. You knew it wasn't the smartest thing to do, not when Drago Bloodyfist or whatever Hiccup had called him recently attempted to take control of all of Berk's dragons, but you couldn't help yourself. There was nothing better the disappearing for a few hours with nothing but the wind in your hair, your (D/S) under you and the quietness that came with it.

The only repercussions for disappearing that you've ever gotten were some annoyed friends or a worried Hiccup, which you could say was one of the worse options since he tended to fret when you returned. Though anything was better than a mad Hiccup when you accidentally disappeared for three days and came back to half of Bekr looking for you since Hiccup had gotten worried enough to start a search party.

That's how you found yourself where you were now, surrounded by the quietness of a forest on some random island not too far away from Berk. The flight over had only taken twenty minutes as you and (D/N) took your time flying there.

(D/N) had slunk off not too long ago, making her own way through the forest as she explored, leaving you to your thoughts as you trailed after her, not trying very hard to keep up.

Berk had been hectic recently. Hiccup found his mum, Berk was attacked, you almost lost (D/N), and Stoick died... It was a lot to happen in the span of a few days, closer to a few hours if you don't count Hiccup's extended absence.

This island had seen worse for wear but there was still a lot of work that had to be done. Which you should be doing now but too many people were asking too much of you. You had also been avoiding meeting Hiccup's mum as the two of you had spared only a few words to one another when in the heat of battle.

It was a lot to think of all at once, so you found yourself off the island quicker than the Twins could say boar pit.

Being out here was doing wonders for your mind; calming you down and making it easier to think of nothing at all. It was all you could hope for, even if you knew you would have to head back soon unless you wanted Hiccup to deem this as another one of your escape attempts.

It was only when the forest got quieter than normal did you felt the need to come back to your senses, an actual need to be alert instead of walking around aimlessly as if you were on autopilot.

The soft thumping of (D/N)'s feet from ahead had stopped, along with the birds hidden in trees. The only noise that passed through was the rustling of leaves as a steady breeze glided through the woods. Your hand was itching down to grasp onto the small blade you had strapped to your belt, your (W/C) left on the saddle that (D/N) had run off with.

Before you had the chance to do anything though, a set of hands were slipping around your waist, tugging you back and into someone's chest softly. Years of Viking training were already kicking in as you raised an elbow, ready to dig it back with a low aim when someone caught onto your arm, stopping it in its motion.

"Hey," You struggled to get out, still trying to land a hit on the person behind you and push yourself away, attempting anything that would set you free.

"Calm down," A familiar voice laughed out, surprising you into stillness as your brain realised who it was. At your sudden stop, you were whirled around by the person who had disturbed you, being met with a bright smile and a deep set of green eyes as they bore into you. "I was wondering when you'd notice it was me."

"Hiccup," You deadpan, watching as the taller boy slowly pulled you closer, setting one of his hands on your waist without the hassle of a fight from you trying to dislodge it.

"(Y/N)," He copied, raising one of your hands with his free ones and bringing it up to his face, setting a soft brush of his lips on the back of it in the form of an extended greeting. You watched the motion with warm eyes, the annoyance that had crept up your spine dying down a bit.

"How long have you been here?" You questioned once your fingers got interlocked with his, not going to deny the soft touches as the both of your hands were brought down.

"Not long," Hiccup commented. Standing in front of you, Hiccup seemed like he didn't have a care in the world, reminding you of what you had left behind on Berk and how Hiccup himself could bring this feeling out of you. "Toothless saw you and (D/N) fly off not long ago and wanted to bring me to you so that he could play with them."

"Mm," You hummed, bringing your linked hands back up. For a short moment where your hands stayed hovering in the air, your lashes fluttering at Hiccup, you took him in, the small smile on your face expressing more words than you wanted to at the moment. Laying a kiss on the back of his hand, you murmur, "We better go find them then and make sure they don't get into too much trouble."

[rosytintedlights]

RZ!Michael Myers x Gender neutral Nurse!Reader

Summary: Reader pushes for Michael to have a lunch he’ll finish for once

Warnings: None, just fluff :)

700~ words

”Is it really so hard to just give him an extra scoop of mashed potatoes instead of the carrots? I mean, seriously, what’s the problem?” (Y/N)’s voice rang out, annoyed by the basic lack of caring among the kitchen staff. They really didn’t think it’d be so hard to switch out what was on the tray, especially since Michael’s meal ticket was just like everyone else’s. The whole point of having meal tickets was so that each patient would receive a meal that they could finish.

”If he can’t suck it up and eat the damn vegetables on the plate, then that’s not my problem! I’m not making exceptions just because that freak is a picky eater.”, the kitchen manager spoke with irritation, clearly not willing to budge on the matter. There was a heated glare shared between the two, only to be interrupted by Dr. Loomis before (Y/N) could get more personal with the argument.

“(Y/N), what’s taking so long on Michael’s food? You know we serve him first to get him out of the dining room quicker.” Dr. Loomis scolded. He turned his attention to the kitchen manager, asking what the hold up was. “Tell me, what is the problem? We are all well aware of what Michael gets like when he’s irritated.”

Piping up to defend Michael and themself, (Y/N) spoke bluntly to get to the point. “All I asked was why we couldn’t switch the mushy carrots that Michael always picks around for a second scoop of mashed potatoes. As a nurse, and especially as his nurse, I need him to start eating the whole tray of food. I really don’t see what the issue is, everyone would benefit. Michael gets a tray of food that he’ll actually eat all of, I get to chart 100% of the meal eaten, and we get him back to his room without a fuss.”

“Why should I make an exception for him when it wasn’t on the meal ticket to begin with? It’s not like he’s allergic to the shit! He shouldn’t be treated special just because he’s a picky eater.” The kitchen manager argued, still disagreeing with (Y/N). Sighing and ignoring the protests from the kitchen manager, Dr. Loomis gave the go ahead to change Michael’s meal. And with a satisfied grin, (Y/N) took his tray and headed to his table.

Michael was sitting alone as always, either glaring at people who got to close or simply staring at the table. His posture, though it had always been pretty terrible, looked especially tense today. Today had been one thing after another for him; Prodding from Dr. Loomis, multiple broken crayons and dry markers, a ripped mask, a new patient getting too bold with his personal space, (Y/N) busy with charting instead of sitting with him during free time, more prodding from Dr. Loomis. To put it bluntly, he was not happy. Without much choice but to behave, at least, unless he wanted to get his few privileges taken away, Michael balled his hands up while resting them on the table and he patiently but irritably waited for his food.

His thoughts were interrupted by a familiar hand setting a tray down in front of him. Without glancing up from the table, he quickly assessed what was on it, already prepared to shovel in the pudding and eat around the carrots. But.. there were no carrots, or any mushy vegetables for that matter. In its place was extra mashed potatoes, and while not exactly the best mashed potatoes he’d ever had, were still far superior to bland carrots with no brown sugar to add to them.

“Do me a favor and eat the whole tray this time, otherwise you might not get this kind of privilege again.” (Y/N)’s voice broke him from his thoughts, and he turned his gaze toward them slightly. Silent as always, Michael showed his appreciation by simply eating the food like he was asked to, starting with the potatoes he’d been gifted instead of the chocolate pudding. When he finished, he was escorted back to his room. When lunch was over and everyone had been escorted back to their designated locations, (Y/N) stayed behind in the dining hall to help clean up. Starting with Michael’s table, a soft smile spread on their face at the sight of an empty tray.

-A/N-

Waaaaahh my first post! I know it’s a little short, but I’ll get better the more I write >:D I can’t wait to write more and get more scenarios out <3

[soapyghostie]

hii ^_^ can you do slasher hcs, can be anyone you choose, with a child!Reader (platonic ofc) suddenly saying a bad word infront of them? Lol idk i just thought that it would be a funny scenario, you dont have to do it if u dont want to btw :3 have a nice day!

Since this was a free-bee, I took the chance to write for a couple slashers I haven’t gotten a chance to write for yet. One of them is one I’ve written for multiple times already, but I know how y'all are and that Michael Myers content. Y’all will eat that shit up. Well anyway, enjoy!

Charles ‘Chucky’ Lee Ray

Chucky, known for his foul-mouthed and sarcastic personality, would most definitely burst into a fit of maniacal laughter upon hearing the inappropriate language that just came out of your mouth. He finds the situation very amusing, secretly proud of your choice of words. He used to think you were a deadbeat child, but it seems you are starting to take after him in terms of mischief and a devil-may-care attitude. Maybe he’ll give you a shot.

He’d playfully scold you for stealing the spotlight, jokingly reminding you that he’s the only one allowed to say those kinds of words while giving you a wink. He’s pretending to act like a normal parent would if their child cursed so Tiffany doesn’t throw dishes at his head again for god knows what he did beforehand. Anyways, besides the friendly reminder to be careful about where and when to use foul language, Chucky feels a sense of camaraderie in their rebellious spirit that he’s never expressed before. Is this care and kindness he feels? It can’t be! He’s an evil serial killer with no feelings for anyone! Just between you and me, he did care about you in his own way from the beginning. He just hates to admit it and ignored the feeling for a long time. 

Chucky giving you lessons in creative cursing is a must: in a private setting of course. He doesn’t want to have to deal with Tiffany’s scolding about encouraging and, even worse, teaching you such bad behavior. However, if the language goes too far (cursing Tiffany out), Chucky will actually draw a line and sternly explain the importance of knowing when and where such language is appropriate.

Stu Macher

Stu, being the laid-back and humorous person he is, most likely burst out into a fit of laughter initially, thinking it’s just a child’s innocent mistake. However, he’s taken aback. He was not expecting to hear such foul language come out of your mouth and especially wasn’t ready for it since he’s normally making the crude jokes himself rather than hearing it from a child. 

Stu would exchange an amused glance and playfully scold you, reminding you that it’s not appropriate to use such language, especially in front of company. However, Stu may share a few inappropriate jokes of his own, trying to bond with you through your humor. God dammit Stu! Don’t be a bad influence like Chucky is! 

If you continue to use inappropriate language, Stu will employ a more serious tone and discuss the consequences of your behavior. If you don’t listen to him after that (I don’t know how you could not because Stu never serious), Stu will probably be like, “Well what the fuck! Who cares?” and will join in and playfully participate with you. 

Michael Myers

Michael would remain expressionless and unreactive to hearing you say the inappropriate word. He will convey his disapproval through his body language though, such as a stern gaze or a slow shake of his head. You pick up on these cues, going from comical and bright to eerie and uncomfortable, understanding that your words are unacceptable.

Michael does expect immediate compliance, and you are expected to correct your behavior under his imposing presence. In rare cases, Michael will intervene if your behavior becomes continuous and punish you, such as grounding you or giving you a whoopin, to teach you a lesson about the consequences of your behavior. 

Once Michael decides you’ve been punished long enough, if you got the ‘your grounded to your room’ punishment, he’ll make his way to your room and have a conversation with you to instill the importance of respectful behavior. You two end up having a good talk, ending with you promising to use more appropriate language from here on out and Michael promising to get you a tub of ice cream on his next outing if you have good behavior.

[gghostwriter]

Poison Me, I’m Fine

Spencer Reid x Songwriter!Fem!Reader

Summary: Your choice of poison was Spencer Reid. Who knew he would kill you and set you free in the process

Warning: angst with no happy ending

A/n: I feel insane for writing this in one sitting and not editing it. There's no part 2 for this, I just wanted to purge myself of this angst plot that took over me. This is probably the closest I could write to a singer-songwriter reader x spencer, granted she just writes for other pop stars (maybe I'll write some popstar!reader next time idk yet.) Also, 'Free Now by Gracie Abrams' and 'The Black Dog by Taylor Swift' was on repeat when I wrote this so you can spot some inspiration from both here. Hope you like it!

Main masterlist

You don’t know why you settled for less. Why you opted to walk on a blurry tight rope, why you chose a crumbling place to land on, and why you chose to enter a situationship that will end in heartbreak. Actually, scratch that, you do know why. Spencer Reid, that was enough reason for you to put yourself on the line. Or it was until your treacherous, greedy heart wanted more. 

Does she follow like an echo? Like your shadow, you can try, but you can't run

It started with hushed whispers. Your mind slowly poisoning itself with what ifs and scenarios where he was fully yours, just like how he unknowingly owned you—mind, body, and soul. Whispers of—wouldn’t it be nice to visit this museum again with Spencer or he’d love this newly opened vintage bookstore around the block or it’d be nice to see the stars with him right now. You tried to cleanse those thoughts away but that’s the thing, poison that has entered your bloodstream is hard to remove. 

It's a pain that I caught you at a bad time It's a shame that I memorized your outline

It morphed to vivid imagery next—hallucinations so life-like that you found yourself believing it half of the time. Portraits of him and you holding hands as you both walked down the streets, phantom outlines of you together swaying close to muted music, and shadows of you and him twisting in bedsheets. All untrue, except for the latter. You attempt to blink them all away with no success. Your heart reluctant to part with the delusion than face the truth—that he had only offered you his body and nothing else.

Every page that I wrote, you were on it Feel you deep in my bones, you're the current

It seeped out of you next—to your writings, to your works as if your body was doing its best to reject the poison away. To save itself from the nearing death that seemed inevitable in the end. Your poetry, your lyrics, and your art all contain entangled webs of metaphors and colors that lead back to him. Purple streaks on your canvas to represent his favorite, his beloved authors mentioned in your verses, and symbolisms of his career scattered all over—cuffs, guns, shot and everything in between. You tried to pour it all out of you, the dark and sticky emotion of despair and longing covering you and all extensions of you. Everyone noticed the change. The dimming of lights in your eyes and the shadows that threaten to swallow you whole. Everyone noticed—your family, friends, colleagues, and even the pop stars that buy your singles. Everyone except for the one that could save you, Spencer. 

It turned into screams next. It was as if your body gathered all its remaining strength to shout for help or to howl in pain, you’re not sure really. All you’re sure of was that the end was near. The end was coming to free you from everything—from him. The trigger was overhearing him discuss you with his friend and male co-worker during a run-in in his apartment where he had no choice but to introduce you. Six months of pseudo dating him and no one knew you existed.

You excused yourself to the bathroom, wanting to escape the tension emitting from the situation and when you came back, that’s when you heard it. The lethal blow to your already dying heart.

“She seems nice,” his friend, Morgan, commented.

Spencer shrugged. “She’s no Maeve—not as deep but she’s—she’s safe.”

You bit your lip, trying to stop it from quivering lest you whimper out loud the pain his words has caused you.

Donning on a fake smile on your face, you watched as Morgan left with a wave goodbye to you and a casual ‘see you again.’ Not like that would ever come true.

Within seconds, you felt your mask cracking as tears slowly trickled down your face.

“I love you.”

They say the truth sets us free but not this truth. All it did was crash, burn, and pulverize your already precarious stacks of sticks that represent you and him. 

Silence.

“You know, when we first started this—whatever this is—I promised to myself that I wouldn’t fall for you. That this was purely physical, sex,” you sardonically laughed. “But you know what I realized, that you were easy to fall in love with. So easy that I found myself ruined even before I could comprehend where and when it happened.”

“We agreed, didn’t we? That we would tell the truth and stop when feelings are starting to get involved. Why didn’t you tell me?” 

You roughly swiped away the tears. “I didn’t know when it happened, Spencer! I thought if I stuck it out long enough, you’d feel something for me too! But that was foolish of me to believe. I see it now.” 

“See what?” 

You walked towards him, invading his personal space. The same way he did with yours. “That you’re not ready. Honestly I’d prefer if my opponent was standing in front of me. At least I could gauge if I had the chance to win. But with her, she’s gone, Spencer—” you jabbed your pointy finger on his chest, where his heart was. “I’m fighting with a ghost who I can’t even land a hit on. A ghost who haunts your every waking and dreaming moment. Tell me, Spencer, how do I compete with that—when I feel there’s little to no space for me. I exist only in between and in your limbo when you’re craving for a physical companion. How do I win, Spencer? Tell me or should I just throw in the towel?” 

“Y/N—”

His eyes contained the answer and although it wasn’t what you were wishing for, it was what you subconsciously knew you needed to free you. 

You nodded your head. “I guess—I guess this is it, huh. End of the line for us.” 

“I guess so.” 

You gathered your coat, haphazardly strewn on the floor—just like the pieces of your shattered heart and as you stepped out of his threshold, you gave yourself one last chance to memorize his outlines.

“Goodbye, Spencer.” 

And finally, the poison had killed you and had set you free. 

If you feel like fallin', catch me on the way down Never been less empty, all I feel is free now

[astariontopofme]

Hi! I loved your Astarion fic very much!! You really captured him very well! :D I would love to request a fic where Tav/Reader invites Astarion to watch the sunset with them and just have a sweet time together without obligation of anything more. Thank you! ❤️

𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈𝐬 🌞 (Astarion x GN!MC)

A/N: I took this prompt and ran too far with a bit of angst, I apologise. There’s still fluff I promise! Hope you enjoy!

Word count: 2.3k

___

Alone and miserable was exactly how Astarion intended to spend his evening.

He was growing a little tired of these long days ending in disappointment. They had been on the receiving end of some particularly brutal attacks that afternoon, each one adding to the ever lengthening delay on their mission to find a cure for their tadpoles.

It seemed there wasn’t an end in sight, their days repeatedly starting and finishing the same way. The worst part about it for him was his confliction when it came to the matter at hand. One minute he was determined and dead set on finding someone or something that could remove the tadpole, and the next minute he was absorbed by the actuality that the tadpole had given him the happiest moments of his prolonged life.

One of those moments being the warmth of the sun on his cold skin.

He couldn’t imagine being stripped of such luxury again, locked in the shadows until the harshly cold moon replaced the flourishing gold beams that it blessed upon the world. The very thought left him in a slight state of panic if ever he dwelled on it long enough. Everyone else was yearning for the solution to their infections, which was fair. It hadn’t brought anyone but himself any joy, just a disruption to their lives.

Which was why these thoughts were always kept to himself. He didn’t want to hear about how ‘everything would be okay’ or the irritating default ‘cheer up’ phrases. It wasn’t as simple as just seeing the bright side of ridding himself of the tadpole. Sure, it would eliminate the chances of being turned into something he didn’t want to become, but removing it would turn him back into his old self, something else he didn’t want to be.

The very thought of avoiding the daylight made him feel ill. He hadn’t expected to be so attached to it when he first realised the warmth on his skin wasn’t cooking him alive. Two hundred years of darkness was what he had no choice but to be used to. He knows how to live out his life that way, but he didn’t want to.

He just wanted to be free.

So as he could hear the rest of the camp making their attempts at cheering each other up, Astarion sat in his lonely little tent, slowly waving his hand in the strip of honey-like light that had invited itself in through the gap of the tent’s entrance. He almost wanted it to start burning him, just to prepare him for his impending intolerance to the beauty cascading a rich bronze hue across his deathly pale skin.

Judging by the deep shade of the soothing beam, the sun was beginning its daily journey to another part of the world. The nights were always a little difficult when he got in his head like this. Every glance at the stars shimmering in contrast to the ebony sky made him wonder if that had been his last day in the warmth before someone excitedly presented him with a cure he only half wanted.

Just as he felt himself starting to spiral uncontrollably, his tent was suddenly deprived of its sliver of warm light. Before he could tell whoever had come to bother him to leave him alone, a familiarly soft yet strong hand clasped itself around his, tugging him out of his solitary as his knees crashed into the hard ground. He was ready to start shouting at whoever had the sheer audacity to pull him around like that, but as he looked up from his knees he was met with a contagiously joyous smile.

Whatever Tav was so happy about must not have reached the others, most of them sitting around the start of a fire and barely looking any happier than he felt. The misplaced display of glee was almost irritating him, but the irritation was fizzling out quickly, as it always seemed to do with his partner.

Gods he was getting soft.

Doing his best to be stern after being so unexpectedly manhandled, he put on his best frown. “What on earth was that for?!”

Still, the look of delight before him did not falter. If anything they looked even more pleased that he was in a bad mood.

The same hand that had kidnapped him from the confines of his tent reached out to help him up. Being the ever so petty man that he could proudly be, Astarion completely ignored it and dragged himself up to his feet, being sure to scoff as he brushed the dirt from his knees.

“Come on,” his over excited companion commanded.

Astarion raised an eyebrow at them. “Come on, what?”

Before his tongue had even hit the roof of his mouth to exaggerate the T at the end of what, he watched his partner turn around quickly, darting off into the woods surrounding the camp.

Although their actions hadn’t exerted any will within him to now go and spend time with them, he wasn’t prepared to let them scurry off into the woods alone before it got dark. He quickly grabbed a small dagger from a stool outside his tent and hastily set forth to catch up to them. Sure, he was a little pissed, but he was too protective of them to retreat back into his tent and stew in his misery.

It didn’t take him long to catch up, despite how quickly his partner was speed walking through the trees. Wherever they were going, they were clearly in some kind of hurry.

“Will you slow down,” Astarion hissed. “Where in the hells are you going?!”

Tav simply continued without a word, stopping very suddenly at the edge of the forest. There was quite a drop only a few feet in front of them, and Astarion found himself automatically reaching out to grab the back of his partner's top, despite the fact that they had already come to a halt.

“I knew this would be the perfect place,” Tav exclaimed with an accomplished grin.

Astarion couldn’t help but hope that this wasn’t what he thought it was. He wasn’t entirely in the mood to try and be interested in sex right at this very moment in time, nor was it the most comfortable looking place for it.

“Look, I enjoy your body a great deal, but I’m not really-”

Tav’s gaze shot straight up to him, the smile dropping from their face. “I…I didn’t bring you here for sex, Astarion,” they explained innocently. “You know that’s not all I want from you…don’t you?”

Astarion didn’t know how to answer this. He had spent so much of his life being used to lure people to their doom with sex that he still couldn’t decipher between being appreciated and being used. It was a difficult area in their new relationship that they both knew would take time and plenty of reassurance. He trusted his partner a great deal, more than he had ever been able to trust a person before in his life.

After a few awkwardly silent minutes went by, Tav cut the tension by pointing out towards a body of water in the distance. “I wanted you to watch with me,” they murmured quietly, crossing one leg over the other to sit on the hard ground.

Astarion watched as the deeply orange sun was slowly approaching the water, reflecting itself on the surface like fire dancing over ice. It was a rather breathtaking sight, one that forced his legs to follow the same crossing motion to sit beside his partner and bask in such a beautiful sight.

Despite the earlier downward spiral into his fear of sun deprivation, he had never felt so soothed and relaxed by such simplicity. He hadn’t yet watched a sunset, which was usually down to missing it whilst journeying back to camp. The brightest star in the sky was sinking away, emanating a golden sheet across everything that surrounded them. It was almost hypnotic just how fascinating the sight truly was.

Any resentment he had for being dragged out of his tent against his will had dissolved almost instantly. This relationship thing was still all very new to him, and his biggest obstacle was understanding, which was difficult as there were so many things he just didn’t understand. The main one being Tav’s interest in him.

Even he couldn’t deny that he could be a bit of a negative bastard at the best of times, and yet this ridiculously patient person he found himself to be enamoured with wanted to share such a beautiful and intimate moment with him without the obligation of intercourse. They really did care about him.

But for how long?

If they were to eventually find a cure, Astarion was almost certain that he’d lose something far more valuable to him than the sun. Why would such a bright soul want to spend the rest of their life with him in the shadows?

He tore his gaze away from the descending sun to glance at his partner, only to find them already looking at him.

“Isn’t it lovely,” they whispered quietly, as if raising their voice would scare the beauty away.

Astarion swallowed a hard lump in his throat, not knowing how to answer that question. It was lovely, but he wasn’t just thinking that of the sunset.

Before he could catch his tongue, he blurted out a question he wasn’t sure he wanted the answer to. “Are you going to leave?”

Once again, Tav’s content smile faded into a small and confused frown. “Leave? Leave what?”

He could hear his conscience shouting at him to just shut up and quit being so pathetic, but his mouth seemed to overrule it. He needed some sense of security.

“Me.”

The hurt look on the face that had recently become his favourite caused his cold heart to squeeze in his chest. He didn’t want to come across so accusingly, but he wasn’t exactly accustomed to loyalty. Nobody had cared for him the way they did, yet as much as he was afraid that they would eventually grow tired of him, he wouldn’t ever be surprised if they did as he just didn’t expect much from people.

Judging by the sudden sadness in those fascinating eyes, Tav hadn’t actually thought about it in the way he had. “You think I’m going to leave you when you can no longer walk in the sun,” they questioned, though it came out as more of a statement.

Astarion didn’t verbally respond, but the way his body tensed up at the thought was enough of an answer for his partner. Tav shuffled over a little, sitting closer to him and placing a comforting hand on his leg. Their piercing stare bored into him, but he couldn’t bring himself to meet their eyes with his.

Still, Tav spoke so softly that it almost made Astarion uncomfortable. “If I had plans to leave you after these tadpoles are gone, then I wouldn’t have bothered with you in the first place. I know what you are, Astarion. I know what comes with being a vampire. That’s not going to change how I feel about you.”

He couldn’t suppress the frustrated sigh that escaped him. “That’s easy for you to say now,” he said, surprisingly calm. “But when you’re confined to the darkness-”

“I’ll still love you.”

It was the first use of the word between the couple. A word Astarion didn’t have a lot of experience with, which was why he couldn’t decipher between whether the feeling in his chest when he heard the intimidating word was a reciprocating feeling of love or whether he was dying on the spot. His eyes snapped back to his partner, but they were now staring off towards the water again, watching as the sun disappeared into the horizon and took its warmth with it.

Yet he still felt warmth. It was growing almost painfully in his chest as his heart thumped at an alarming rate. Any time he had heard someone explain what love felt like, the word warmth had almost always come up.

“The sun’s gone,” Tav whispered quietly, taking his hand. “And I don’t feel any differently. I mean it, Astarion. I love you.”

Astarion’s whole mouth felt like cotton. He did love them, he could physically feel it within him. But he was afraid that the words could not form yet. Sure, he’d falsely told people he loved them for manipulation purposes, but real love was a huge step for him, and he felt he needed to truly understand its meaning before he could declare such a thing back.

“You don’t need to say anything,” his partner reassured him softly, picking up on his dilemma.

He swallowed hard. “It’s not that I don’t-”

“I know.”

Their eyes finally met, something different presenting itself between them. It felt as though their relationship had taken on a new meaning, one that slightly soothed that voice in his head telling him he was going to end up alone when their mission was over. He just couldn’t believe he had found such a remarkable soul in such a strange and life threatening situation.

Though he couldn’t use the word love just yet, he couldn’t let this moment end with his silence. He knew that he could feel it, and he needed them to know that.

“I’ve always heard the phrase that home is where the heart is…and I never really understood it before now,” he began to conclude. “Nothing ever felt like home to me. Not Baldur’s Gate, and certainly not Cazador’s palace.”

He reached his free hand up to cup Tav’s cheek, his thumb absentmindedly brushing across their slightly blushed skin as they melted into his touch.

“But you…I have a home in you.”

.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this fic! This is my first time writing with a gender neutral character so please be kind if I’ve made any mistakes!

[kitsuvil]

— stay w me; genshin date hcs [gn! reader] part 1

characters; tartaglia, neuvillette, zhongli, itto, heizou, scaramouche

warnings/notes; modern au, tooth rotting fluff, pre-established relationship, gn! reader, ajax & heizou's part have a kiss, murder/dead body joke in ittos

summary; your genshin boy invites you on a date, sorta ghibli and city pop style. part 1!

AJAX ! — windy summer by anri

☆ ajax acts like he's just casually asking you out for a date but you can tell just from his tone while texting that he expects you to be there & would be really butthurt if you're not available

☆ “lyubov. it's my one free day, we're going smh”

☆ i imagine he's pretty busy with work and it's definitely a tasking job where he's in a higher position so he doesn't actually get this chance often, so when he asks you out on a date you're immediately up for it. how could you say no when his puppy dog eyes are visible even through text?

☆ he probably doesn't tell you what the date is but tells you when to be ready. since his full day is free, he's picking you up early in the morning. definitely takes you out for coffee or tea & if you didn't have breakfast, that too!

☆ which connects to the fact that i really think half the day would just be him confirming that gift giving is his love language. clothes here, jewelry there, something for your hobbies over yonder

☆ the car (which mind you is incredibly nice. if he has money, why would he not use it for himself and those around him?) is just stuffed with gifts. especially bc i think most of the date day would be him taking you around town? all the shops and everything, but it's all preparation for the real date

☆ somewhere in between all the places you visit in the city, ajax gets a phone call from work. but without a second's hesitation, he turns his phone off and ignores the call.

☆ “aren't you going to pick that up? i'm sure it's important.”

☆ “they know what today is. my attention is only on you, dear. my coworkers can handle it on their own. it's not like they're incapable, they're just lazy and they'll be fine.”

☆ and suddenly you're blushing because the way he looked at you when he said his attention is only on you? it makes you fully believe his words.

☆ when the time for sunset grows closer, both of you grow quieter. both for different reasons. he's about to take you to the final spot and you're probably getting a little sleepy after a long day tbh.

☆ “you can sleep in my arms tonight, just hold on a bit, lyubov.”

☆ both of you yawning as you pull into a parking lot, but it only hits you where you are after you get out of the car.

☆ “You took us to the beach?” Your mouth drops open a little in pleasant shock. It's not like the beach was something you could never go to, but it was rare to be there with Ajax. Something that felt extra sentimental. It had you reminiscing about the first time you two met, underneath a setting sun and with crashing waves in the backdrop. Looking out over the horizon now as the red sun reflected on the ocean wasn't so unlike that first meeting.

“I thought it would be a nice break from the usual rush of things if I took us here,” Ajax sheepishly shrugged his shoulders, a little bit taken aback by how obviously enthralled you were. While he often got to see joy sparkling on your face, it was almost never this meaningful. It made his own heart melt a little, knowing that he made the right choice coming here.

"It is. I can't believe there's so few people here to see this beautiful sunset."

"I think if there were many people here, the sunset would be long forgotten about. They'd all be distracted by your beauty instead," Ajax paused for a moment. "Just like I am right now."

Looking back at him, it was clear he was saying the truth. His eyes were a reflection of your heart, all your inner workings, and the deep emotions you felt for him. That you both felt for each other. So much to the point that when you grew closer to each other and your lips touching made imaginary fireworks go off, neither of you had a single thought running through your heads.

NEUVILLETTE! — i'm in love by tomoko aran

♡ neuvi would probably be a little hesitant at first asking you out on a date? it's like. you've already been together for so much time and this isn't a first, but every time he wants to make the date perfect so he's a little over-cautious. he refuses to miss the details.

♡ probably asks you in person. he wouldn't want to ask in text for multiple reasons. one, he can't see your reaction immediately if it's in text, two, it wouldn't feel real enough? to him. if anything, he might even hesitate more. it's in this aspect that he's a bit of a perfectionist.

♡ plans the date like weeks in advance. when you realize what it is, it makes a lot more sense why he felt that he needed so much time.

♡ "i managed to acquire some tickets to an opera show happening soon. since we're both free on that day, i was wondering if you'd do me the honor of joining me?"

♡ definitely an opera that he knows you'd like. he's often willing to sacrifice his own tastes for you and it goes to show his devotion. not to mention, sometimes your tastes in these things align anyway! so it's probably a show he knows both of you would like. best of both worlds because he knows most people wouldn't go to an opera out of the blue anyway, but he knows from experience that you're willing to do anything with him. (me too)

♡ MATCHING OUTFITS. his heart would melt. it doesn't have to be something super obvious, and i don't think he'd like it if it drew too much attention to you both anyway, but something really cute. he probably wears an accessory that reminds him of you in his day to day already and this is only the step up from that in formal outfits lolol

♡ before the show starts (ehem, you two obviously got the best seats in the house) i think he'd geek out to you for a little about the place itself and the show/cast you're about to see and you just listen with stars in your eyes. it's nice to see him talk about hobbies and interests when he's rarely focused on you instead of himself or worried about his other priorities.

♡ midway through the show, your wrist slowly moves towards the seat beside you until your arm is fully snaked together with neuvi's. if you look over, there's a slight flush over his cheeks. it's not at all obvious with the darkened lightning of the building, but the lights coming from the stage illuminate his face and his beautiful eyes instead.

♡ after the show ends and everyone is clapping and leaving, your hands are connected to each other's again. they don't separate until long after you both leave the building. even if neuvillette isn't always fond of pda, this time it fills his heart with warmth, and he can't help but enjoy it.

♡ he stops by a café for evening tea after, paying for both of your drinks.

♡ "Here's your green tea and (tea of choice)! Let us know if you need anything else!" The staff left just as quickly as they had arrived. You and Neuvillette were silent for a while, but it wasn't that awkward kind of silence that made you want to run away from a situation. It was comfortable. It was a silence that spoke both a million words but also none.

"Thank you for inviting me to the opera show and doing all this for me. It's been such a fun date, Neuvi!" You broke it first. "Even more fun for me than you. Getting to take you somewhere is far more than enough to make me happy," the corners of Neuvillette's mouth turned up into a smile. He took a sip of his tea before speaking again. "I thought it would be nice to bond over a form of entertainment, and what better option than this show. I know you were talking about it recently, too."

"You're so kind to not forget my blabberings, even when I forget them myself. It was a really enjoyable show, but a thousand times better just because you were there. Thank you."

Up until now, you never realized how easy it was to get a slight blush from the white-haired man. But there he was again, his cheeks a different tone from the rest of his skin. You wouldn't trade this for anything.

ZHONGLI! — sweet love by junko ohashi

◆ zhongli is straightforward about asking you out on a date. he acts a little bit 'sneaky' about it at first, but it doesn't take long until he's asking if you're available soon to visit a park. he won't give the location, but gives you all the other details you'd need instead. warns you that it's a bit of a drive to get there, but that the views are worth it.

◆ he wanted to leave earlier in the morning but when he sees you sleeping so soundly, he can't help to extend it to a bit later. the park can wait. atleast until he finishes preparing breakfast for you and packing everything for the trip, so that when you wake up you only need to focus on getting yourself ready (but he acts so casual about it like he didn't just do everything at once)

◆ "your tea is going to get cold by the time you finish staring at me. yes, everything is already prepared for us to leave." he's definitely proud of himself and so subtly flaunting it. he loves making you smile the most.

◆ there's already a pillow waiting in the passenger seat for you so you can rest easy during the ride. even if you offer to take the wheel instead, he'll just raise an eyebrow and say, "but you don't know where we're going, do you?" and just leaves you huffing in response

◆ eventually, you're both silent. probably with some music playing in the background but you're stuck staring outside. the surroundings had already turned from town to fields a bit ago & it makes you smile at the calm atmosphere

◆ "you're smiling to yourself over there but not telling me why?"

◆ "is loving you not reason enough to make me smile?" you tease.

◆ his eyes return to the road, and his hands on the wheel stiffen up a bit. it's such a subtle change that most people wouldn't pick up on it, but you know exactly how he reacts when you catch him off guard. zhongli is flustered.

◆ you wake up from a nap you didn't even realize you fell into, zhongli slowly tapping you awake. there's a bag you unhaul from the car with what you assume to be trailing necessities and then follow zhongli to the path

◆ he probably explains what route he chose because it's not the main one, he's the type to go for a "lesser known" path. it's paved in dirt and there's some fallen branches or leaning trees. some bushes that taunt you with spikes if you get too close

◆ and it's obvious that if you're not careful enough, you'll end up trip- and would you look at that, you're falling.

◆ but before you can make contact with the grass, zhongli's arms are wrapped around you tightly. of course he'd catch you, you sighed in relief.

◆ "i'm not sure if you're trying to get injured, or if this is your way at hinting that you want a piggyback ride for the rest of the walk."

◆ you pout in response, knowing that neither is the truth and zhongli knows that too. you continue on the trail (which fortunately doesn't seem to be taking too long. zhongli knows your limits and the fact that not everyone is a hiking fanatic... sometimes, him included) that's pleasantly unpopulated save for the animals. like birds chirping in the treetops that fill the silence whenever zhongli isn't talking about this plant and that plant.

◆ a clearing in the trees comes up in front of you, but you don't realize what it actually is until you make it out of the dense forest.

◆ With a deep breath in and out, you take in your surroundings. "I didn't realize this trail was on a mountain. When did we drive up a mountain?" There is no longer stretch after stretch of trees but instead, a large open view of what's below the cliffside. It looks out over nearby towns, forests, and fields. Flowers dot the fields like little specks of glitter, and the sun shines down light for them.

"You were asleep for quite a while, weren't you? Come, there's a picnic table nearby."

Upon sitting down, you realize what exactly was in that bag Zhongli had you bring. He unpacked multiple containers holding food inside of them, setting them onto the picnic table. "When did you have the time to make all this?" You questioned, a little shocked.

"I'm afraid that if I tell you, you'll scold me," he spoke as he opened the containers.

"I get the feeling you're telling me the truth." It wasn't the first time Zhongli spent all his free time on you. Part of him found that what fufilled him the most was making you happy, so he was alright with giving up time that could be spent alone. For so much of his years, he still felt alone even with people around him. You filled that loneliness.

"Isn't it lovely?" Zhongli's voice brought you out of your thoughts. "The view?" You gazed at him longingly.

"It's like a breath of fresh air or a change of pace. Seeing the world around us makes things slow down, and so does your presence."

He wasn't wrong. In a world that runs faster than an hourglass or a clock, Zhongli was the only one who made things feel normal.

ITTO! — slow motion by akina nakamori

★ “love!! are you free this weekend? i maybe have a surprise for you :P” text from him out of the blue bc why would he ever not be spontaneous

★ when the day comes he's ushering you into the car, and honestly looks more excited than you yourself for the date

★ the drive takes a bit as you guys exit the city and head for a more rural area, but quickly the surroundings grow from unfamiliar back to familiar again

★ he can't hold on any longer so even when you're not there yet, “surprise!! we're visiting my home town!” and you have to pretend to not have realized it multiple roads ago. “we haven't been in so long, i'm glad you chose this for our date”

★ last time you two went, you ended up returning home with the fullest bellies but also hearts. so your expectations were comfortably high

★ pulling up into the town is just a bunch of “hey itto! how's it been?” from each person that recognizes him (a lot)

★ before you reach your actual destination, the two of you get stopped in the town by an older lady. she invites you for lunch and how could you say no? even though she runs a restaurant, the meal is on the house. the lady doesn't even hide the grin on her face as she ‘whines’ about the many times itto got in trouble with her when he was younger.

★ “but granny, that kitty was really going to steal all the food, i was just trying to catch it! i didn't mean to break your dishes…”

★ “maybe that's why you were always told to tell an adult, weren't you?”

★ itto finds it hard to pull away when you're finally finished with your food and ready to leave, so you have to tug him a little back to the driver's seat

★ but you don't realize the goal for this date was different than the previous times you visited. he parks at a place you don't fully recognize but urges you to get out anyway. if it was anyone other than itto, you'd question if he was taking you down to do something suspicious. like have you help him hide a dead body.

★ running down the hill and through the trees though, you both quickly came across a river next to a large tree.

★ and so, itto introduces this as his secret hiding spot that he spent so much of his childhood in. surprisingly, most of it is left in great condition, and it's like the timeline of memories had just paused here. it felt like if you blinked, suddenly at you'd spot a tiny itto running around. not that this itto had changed from the young itto that was equally rambunctious.

★ You ran your fingers along the bark of the tree that covered the hiding place. It seemed really tiny to someone your size, but to a young child, it would've been the perfect spot. “Look, I can still stick in half of my body!!” Itto laughs while maneuvering his way through the hideout. “Before you get stuck, maybe. You've grown so much since being young, more than the normal person, silly.”

“Just because I'm tall and strong shouldn't mean I'm not allowed to have any childlike wonder,” he pouted as he removed himself from the hideout and crossed his arms. “When did anyone say that ever? You wouldn't be Itto if you were missing any traits that made me like you as much as I do.”

Your words had him dumbfounded for a moment, so much that a faint blush appeared on his cheeks, and anything he wanted to say before fell off his tongue.

“You're not allowed to say things like that,” he murmured. “How come?” There was a mischievous glint in your eyes. “It makes my stomach feel funky,” Itto admitted.

You found that now it was your turn to blush. “Come, let me show you the rock collection I gathered,” he quickly changed the topic even though the romantic tension in the air still lingered. “When you were young or just now? I can't predict you,” you let out a chuckle. “Hey!! I mean, making a rock collection now doesn't sound too bad but‐”

“Then let's do it. There's a really pretty rock over there to start with.”

HEIZOU! — shyness boy by anri

● sends you a photo of tickets to karaoke with no other context. “are you coming 🥹”

● how could you say no?? you're more than ready. and clearly heizou is too because when you both get to see each other, you're flabbergasted. maybe both dressed too nicely for karaoke, but for each other, maybe it's ok.

● he's probably wearing not exactly formal clothes but something that makes him extremely attractive (not that he wasn't already to begin with and you know it). dressed to impress(you)!!

● heizou probably messing around with some part of his clothes because he didn't realize he's actually kinda nervous to sing in front of you til now. but considering how talented he is at hiding his real feelings, it's not something you pick up on

● at least not until you're in the karaoke booth he rented out and one of you has to go and pick a song already. neither of you want to stand up and actually go sing

● “woooo” he howls into the mic awkwardly bc at least if you guys don't sing, he can make up for it by acting funny

● “do you want to pick a song?” you strike while the iron is hot. successfully forcing him to get up and pick a song because why would he put the pressure on you instead? he decides he has to man up

● probably sings a meme song to start off. it lightens the mood, so much that you join in too

● so it's not long before both of you are messing around, snacking on some treats you ordered for the room

● justin bieber. duh “and i was like baby baby baby oooo, baby baby baby nooo”

● until you get serious and pick a song you actually really like. totally not a love song that you'd like to direct to heizou, wdym?

● heizou is the type to blush really aggressively. there's one thing he's incredibly weak to and it's the knowledge that his people actually care for him and his crush actually likes him back

● of course, you guys have been together longer than you being just a “crush” but it solidifies the fact that no matter what stage of the relationship you're in, heizou will always consider you like a first love. the amount of butterflies in his tummy has never receded and it never will.

● which is why as you serenade him, he looks completely lulled by your voice. you could be a siren and he'd ask you to take him down with you. it's so clear in his body language and expression that he'd to anything at all for you

● “And when were you going to tell me you could sing like that, darling?” Heizou pretends to wipe a tear from his face as he applauds you. The timing of it is comedic because half of his actions are just him trying to cover up the fact that you had him fully under your spell.

“Whenever I discovered it, which happens to be now,” you giggled at his reaction. His flushed face didn't go unnoticed even one bit and you were prepared to tease him about it like your life depended on it. “Clearly, it gave you a bit of a shock too.”

Heizou's eyes looked almost glazed over and you knew that you had touched where it affected him the most. “Don't read me like a book, I know no such thing as shock.” He pouted and yet it only made you fall harder.

“I know something I can do that'll make you admit to being shocked.”

“And what would that be?”

You stepped closer towards Heizou. There was less than a second in between that and now, with your lips up against his and karaoke entirely forgotten. It was a rare occurrence that you guys shared a kiss for it never felt right—but as Heizou’s soft lips moved against yours, both of you knew that there was no better time than now.

SCARAMOUCHE! — 4:00am by taeko ohnuki

♥︎ scara calls you in the middle of the night knowing neither of you are asleep yet. his voice is all raspy and tired but you can tell he has something important to say

♥︎ “have you been outside tonight?”

♥︎ you curiously say no. what reason could he have for this specific of a question?

♥︎ “be ready in 10. i'm taking you to the park”

♥︎ this doesn't surprise you too much. scara was never one to make elaborate plans for going out, rather tiny things like this. so you hopped out of bed to get ready

♥︎ he was at your place in record time and upon getting into the car you spotted a few blankets and snacks in the back seat.

♥︎ “i know you're going to ask what they're for. we're going stargazing.”

♥︎ now this catches you off guard. “stargazing? at 2 am?”

♥︎ “did you want to wait until the sun has risen and the stars are all gone?”

♥︎ “fair.” but you couldn't hide the smile that crept up your face when you pictured scara doing something as romantic as stargazing. he'd glare at you if you actually said it to his face, but sometimes his heart feels so soft it makes you want to hug him out of adoration

♥︎ “What's so special about the stars tonight that makes you want to bring us both out here?” You ask while both of you work together to lay down a blanket and the snacks. “Other than the fact the moon isn't shining like someone who turned on their brights in the middle of the night? Nothing, really. I just felt like it,” Scaramouche shrugs before settling down on the blanket beside you.

“The sky is really pretty so I think that's fair. Is this your technique for making us feel sleepy, though?”

“If it works, then it works. Look at the constellation over there,” he points towards the sky.

“It's Ursa Minor, the little dipper, right?”

“Yeah. That one star is-” He pauses as his eyebrows furrow, “Hold on.” Scaramouche sits up from the ground, squinting his eyes.

“If you're seeing what I’m seeing… That's a falling star, right?”

“It was only there for a second, but it was definitely a falling star.”

“Did you take a moment to wish on it?” You questioned.

“Why would I wish on a falling star when I have everything I need already? That being you, of course.”

— this was a nightmare to format and write (lost half of zhongli's part at one point and had to rewrite it, tumblr refused to work w me and had to remove my line dividers, accidentally posted it before it was ready... a nightmare, truly) so i hope everyone enjoys it!! listen to the songs for each character for immersion if you'd like <3 and most important of all, ENJOY THE NEW GENSHIN UPDATE!! ILY

[agirlandherkinks]

Hypnovisor: Beta Test (TGTF, Hypno)

James had always been a tech super-fan. The newest phone, newest headphones, shiniest laptop, he had to stay abreast of and on top of the current trends. So when he read about some fancy new VR company that wanted beta testers for a headset, provided for free (minus shipping), his vision blurred and he signed up before he even considered finishing reading the ad.

Three weeks of anticipation and waiting passed until his doorbell finally rung, accompanied by the corresponding buzz of an email notification on his phone. Scrambling from his couch he flung the apartment door open, and to his mild surprise saw that the postman was nowhere in site. There was just a nondescript cardboard box labelled "Fragile", which fortunately bore none of the expected dents and scratches one would associate with the postal service and delicate freight. Practically bouncing with undignified delight, James scooped his parcel up and dashed back inside, barely remembering to lock the door behind him.

The headset looked even better than he had imagined. Sleek plastic curves surrounded a central visor that was just translucent enough to see through, meaning you could walk around safely if you turned a program's opacity down. It fit beautifully when he tried it on, more comfortable than anything he'd ever worn. Wearing it felt wonderful and... right, somehow. His only complaint was that the black headset was decorated in hot pink highlights, although it still looked futuristic enough to sooth his fragile masculinity. His roommate and best friend Erik certainly agreed, interspersing James' insightful comments with appropriate "Ooh's" and "Aah's". Waiting for the battery to charge seemed to take a thousand years, although chatting with each other about what it could do replaced their boredom with swiftly growing excitement.

Two hours later, a soft buzz from the headset in the corner signified its charge was complete. Erik cheered, his sandy-blonde hair bouncing behind him, and even James couldn't suppress a soft whoop of excitement. Erik unplugged it and handed it to James with a flourish and a bow, who accepted it with a suitable stuffy speech. His cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but he was so giddy with anticipation he felt he could match Erik's goofiness for once. The advertisement had promised unmatched realism, a luxurious fit, and cutting-edge, groundbreaking technology. Normally James would have discounted claims like that as corporate claptrap, but the headset fit so well he actually believed the rest of it.

Booting up the headset brought a perky, relaxing jingle in his ears and wall of settings text in his vision. He would have read it, but between his own excitement and Erik's infectious enthusiasm he left the settings on default and skipped to the main menu. The feedback for the buttons was amazing, it felt just like he was pressing down on them whenever he touched one! Another little jingle sounded as he confirmed his choices, and a few games and applications bubbled up into his view, imposed over a hot pink background.

"So Erik, what do you think I should try," James asked. "We've got a music player, interior design app, some sorta idle monster game, and a few RPG's." "Surely try out the RPG's man! You've gotta see that high-definition you were yammering about when we called." Erik's voice came back surprisingly muffled, as if he was speaking down a long tunnel. "Bro, I can barely hear you, the noise-cancelling on this headset's insane! It's like I'm in a world of my own!" James took a deep breath, recovering a little of his composure. "Alright, an RPG it is. Fantasy, sci-fi, or modern day?" "Go fantasy! You know we've both got a thing for elf chiiiicks. Hell, with the kind of feedback you were telling me about, you might even get to grab her" Erik's distant voice sounded playful, with a ting of desire and jealousy. And it did make James hard, at the thought of getting to look and squeeze and fondle some busty elf bitch, made entirely to his wishes~

To James' horror a quiet moan escaped his lips, accompanied by faint hysterical laughter from his friend. Brushing it off angrily, he slammed the icon for 'Silverflame: A Magical Journey' (the button felt like thick moss to his touch). Instantly a soft flute begun to play in his ears, accompanied by the gentle lull of a harp and a quiet sparkling. James felt himself relax, all the tension draining out of his body. Erik must have noticed too, because James heard his laughter die down to be replaced with a slightly concerned silence. "Don't worry man," James said, "music's just really pretty..." He trailed off with a slight giggle, but heard Erik give an affirmative just before a silky, sultry voice started to speak.

"Welcome traveler, to the beautiful world of Silverflame. An untamed paradise where strange beasts roam the land, noble adventurers go forth in search of treasure, and the most wonderful magic [James shuddered] is woven. You are the latest brave, beautiful heroine [Heroine? Shouldn't I get to choose my character's gender first?] to step foot into this land. But first, tell us a bit about who you really are."

Pink sparkles rained across the screen, superimposing his view of a vibrant meadow with a series of stats. Physique, IQ, Wisdom, and Charisma, fairly standard stuff. And next to it, a human man with a blank, slightly happy expression on his face [...did he look familiar?]. James gasped, he looked just like a real person! Erik was suitably impressed by this information, and urged him to pick some stats so he can get to the body modification. "You can always change them later man, might as well pick a couple of stats now and get a move on. Sounds like you're not gonna get to pick your gender for a while, which kinda sucks. Buuut if we're being horny about this, you might as well go for a slut scaffold so you make less changes later." James chuckled at this, remembering the build they discussed one night while both sloshed beyond belief. For this game it would be high Physique and Charisma, low IQ and Wisdom. James touched the slider for Physique, and gasped as he felt himself feel... better than he had in a long time.

Not trusting his senses any more, and worrying about Erik being exposed to whatever was happening from the other side of the headset, James brushed off his concerned questions (which he could barely hear now, past the soothing, soothing, music) and suggested he went to the toilet, since he'd been holding it in since he got here. Erik grumbled at missing out, but mercifully left. James was actively sweating from what just went through his body, but couldn't muster the energy or concentration to feel the level of panic he knew he should be. The music was just so, so calming, that fear was harder to feel than usual. The prompt told him he still had to change two more stats, so he decided to turn down Wisdom. He gasped again and his vision went blurry, and when it cleared he felt a bit, fuzzier? In the head. But it wasn't too bad, in fact it was perfectly manageable. He felt even calmer now, so maybe changing another stats would make him feel better. Why not IQ? He tapped the slider.

He groaned as an immense pressure wrapped around his brain. Thoughts, aspirations, memories felt like they were melting from his head faster than they appeared. The pressure seemed like it lasted forever, but eventually it trailed off and he was left panting in his chair. It had felt, really good? Like, tots good, even. James giggled to himself. Something was different about him, but he couldn't think what. Oh well, it'll probably come to him later. He squealed in delight as he realized he could get a step closer to the body modification page, although he looked longingly at the IQ slider. He could come back to it later, for now it was time to make his super-hot elf slut a body!

James clapped to himself with delight as a cute little melody played, a shower of sparkles spiraled [spiraled...] across the screen, and the man on the side moved to the center of the screen. "Firstly", the sultry voice said, "choose what race you want to be." That was an easy choice. He clicked on the 'Elf' button, and shivered as he felt tingles run through his body, intensifying in his ears. Reaching up to touch them, he inhaled as he felt long, pointed tips. In fact, his whole body seemed a bit slimmer. This doesn't quite feel right... he thought. Oh I know! It must be making me an elf too! Maybe we'll be in a party together! Between the strange fuzziness and the pulsating heat in his groin, James quickly flicked to the next page and made his choices. Long, silver hair, gorgeous big purple eyes, and some giant perky lips. "Combination unlocked!" the narrator exclaimed, "+1 Charisma, -1 Wisdom!" James giggled again as the mental fog settled a little tighter around his brain and naughty thoughts about cute girls and boys filled his brain. Boys? Well I guess I've never minded swinging both ways... This felt natural to him, because of course he'd always been bisexual. Next screen!

"Choose your voice young heroine," the woman commanded. James felt a little strange, like her voice was echoing around his head. And why were the sparkles still there, spinning and spinning around the screen. He felt confused, but knew he had to obey that voice. He picked the sexiest combination for his own voice; high pitched, breathy, perky. "Combination unlocked! +1 Charisma, -1 Int." He moaned as that wonderful pressure wrapped his brain and his weekend plans changed to eyeing hunks at the beach. Girls were cool and all, but men had always been more interesting to him [and their pulsing, hard...].

"Now heroine, can you tell me: Are you a girl, or a boy?" The question sent shock waves through his brain. He was a he... right? Why did it feel like there was some longing, some need to acknowledge the woman in him... her? The fog, the music, the spirals, all the feelings he had been having, James could hardly think. Maybe he should think less. Being a girl sounded fun, it's just a character after all. And he needed to be sexy. "Wonderful choice young lady! Now, are you a dominatrix, a super-switch, or a bimbo slut?" Bimbo slut~ James giggled as the words echoed in her brain. She was a bit of a slut, now that she thought about it. It felt odd to pick it, but why not for funsies? "Bimbo slut selected! Wonderful choice, just wonderful. Hold still while your stats are adjusted, and then we'll begin on giving you the perfect, sexy body you've always wanted."

The spirals filled her view and began increasing in speed. James was taken aback at first, but quickly felt oddly calm and receptive to that sultry voice.

"Physique +1, Physique +1, Physique +1." James felt wonderful, like every ache and blemish in his body had faded away.

"Wisdom -1, Wisdom -1." Thinking was fuzzy, but Jamella felt so content she didn't care.

"Charisma +1, Charisma +1, Charisma +1, Charisma +1. Charisma +1." Jamella gasped as visions of sexy men, pecs and abs and juicy, throbbing cocks filled her mind. A desperate heat filled her, and she began touching her groin against her will to try and ease it.

"IQ -1." She moaned, feeling light.

"IQ-1." Empty. She was so, wonderfully empty.

"IQ -1." This was like, so much funsies! She didn't know what was going on, but everything felt so nice~

"IQ -1. Congratulations Ella, you now have the 'Bimbo Slut' build."

Ella giggled absently. Thinking was like, so hard, and she felt like, so hard~. The fun spirals had disappeared... But the nice lady was talking to her again! With great effort, she listened in. "Now that your mental changes are complete, it's time for the physical changes!" Ella rubbed her thighs together and cheered in excitement. She couldn't wait to have more fun! "Unless you choose so now, the process will be au-to-ma-tic [...why was she using such big words?]. You can choose to take over at any time, or wait until the end and adjust as you please [...please. That word felt funny in her brain]".

"No user input detected. Body adjustment commencing."

A nice shiver went through Ella's body as she felt her headset warm against her face. Looking at the boring young man she'd begun to customize (her reflection, of course), she couldn't wait to begin! She sighed happily as waves of pretty silver hair drifted into her view and cascaded down her back. It felt especially nice against her smooth, soft skin, and she couldn't help but gently shake her head to watch it sway. A cool feeling brought her attention to her face, and the alluring amethyst eyes now set in it. Her face itself became much more elegant [but cutesy, too!], and she puckered her lips as a lovely pressure made them swell and bulge out, giving her a sexy and kissable pout [the boys'll love this look! boys~]. She felt herself shrink a few centimeters, gulping as her Adam's apple disappeared into her body. In fact, her whole body had become even more slender, with narrow shoulders, adorably small hands [pretty purple nails!], and a tiny little waist. She gasped, then clasped her hands over her mouth in delight. Her voice was so high and cutesy! She couldn't stop herself from giving out tiny, high-pitched giggles, just to hear how cute she was!

"Basic body structure altered. Adjusting outfit in preparation for primary and secondary sexual characteristics."

Ella ooh'ed appreciatively as a stream of sparkles enveloped her body. And when they disappeared, she squealed in delight! Her drab t-shirt and denim shorts were gone! In their place was a beautiful silver mini-dress that shimmered like starlight when she moved. She frowned in vexation, though. The plunging chest and shoulder-less design was very pretty, but her chest was flat! [shouldn't I have tiddies? The boys won't like me like this...] And the way it clung to her waist and hips would have been sexy, but as it was there was barely any difference between them! Her ass wasn't nearly big enough to justify how the dress cut off barely past it, and with how tight the fabric was Ella could see how achingly hard she was [wait, why do I have a cock? I'm supposed to get cock! In my mouth, in my ass, in my tight little pussy~]. It wasn't right!

"Thank you for your patience sweetie. Optimal figure calculated. Prepare for adjustment of sexual characteristics."

Ella let out a moan as a wave of heat and pleasure washed over her. With how horny she was she could barely keep her eyes open, but she knew she wanted to watch herself become the sexy little [cum] slut she was meant to be [I want it... I want to be~]. The heat settled in her hips, her ass, and her chest, and she moaned again as the changes begun.

Her nipples grew first, more than doubling in size and stiffening through the soft fabric of her dress. Tentatively touching them induced a gasp of pleasure [so nice~] and sent her rocking backwards. The motion made her giggle, because in that time she'd grown a cute pair of B-cup breasts that jiggled when she rocked. Jiggle makes me giggle. I like giggling. I like jiggling. Ella nodded thoughtfully to herself, feeling very wise. Her boobies grew to C-cups. She jiggled some more. She giggled some more.

A tightness around her hips distracted Ella from her tiddies. They were growing! She groaned as fabric and flesh tightened around them, too euphoric to feel pain. Sliding her hands from her waist to her hips made her squeal happily. She had such a sexy hourglass figure, she knew any girl worth her money would be jealous [and the boys would wanna hold me and squeeze me and fuck me raw]. Thighs thickening dramatically in response to her growth, she slapped her ass in impatience. Why won't it get bigger already!

But get bigger it did, swelling out in response to her touch. She fell forward as sheer pleasure blanketed her mind and weakened her knees. Squishing her boobies against the ground made her feel even nicer, until she was panting and moaning for somebody to help, to hit her again and make her bigger~

A slap landed on her booty, and she groaned in delight as it and her thighs swelled again. More. More! I NEED MORE! She moaned in ecstasy as blow after blow landed, making her swell and grow and grow and swell and feel so gooooood! Her tits inflated to D, then E-cups [good for the boys. I can jiggle so well for them~]. Her hips widened and thighs thickened, until she looked ridiculously large compared to her waist [ridicu... ridic... really, really sexy...] And her ass kept growing, and growing, and growing and growing and growing and growing! Tighter! Around my cock! Cock... I... oh~ Too... too... much! Too much! I'm~ I'm!

OooOOoOoOOooOoOoooOOOOOHHH~

Ella screamed in delight as she came, just cumming and cumming and cumming her tiny little brain out.

"Wisdom -1. IQ -1. Charisma +1. Charisma +1."

She was desperate, humping against the ground as the flow of cum abated from her cock. Everything she had been was flowing out of her messy stupid brain, and everything that she should be was coming in. Boys... Cock... Need fuck... Breed~ I'm such a dumb little cum slut~ She giggled to herself.

"Final adjustment required."

Ella stood up shakily, the bottom of her dress a cum-soaked mess. She squealed with delight as the mental fog settled even tighter and she felt an intense heat in her groin. She could see the tops of nipples trying to break free from her dress, and could feel the air drift over her ass, which had mostly escaped the fabric in her growth. So sexy. Hehe~ Boy can take me~ Don't even need dress off~ Thinking hard... Her ass and hips had pulled up so much fabric that her cock was visible now, deflating and still leaking from her orgasm, but she gasped in pleasure as it began rising up again. And, as she felt something long and hard brush her booty [cock? Boys? Fuck?].

A pressure like hands on her shoulders forced her to her knees, and she whimpered in desire as she felt an unseen cock touch her cheek. At the same time, something began intensely stimulating her own. She reflexively opened her mouth in a moan, but was cut off as she felt the cock shove inside [Feels~ Feels!].

All thought stopped.

Her mind was blank, full of pleasure and desire and happiness. Her cock felt good like it never had before, and the dick in her mouth tasted wonderful~ This was what Ella was made for, what she was meant to be. Feeling good, feeling sexy, feeling a pleasant emptiness that could only be filled with cock. Her haze reached a crescendo. Dimly she was aware of her own cries of ecstasy, muffled by the cock fucking her mouth and mind, as she came harder than she even had before. And as she came, her dick shrunk with each spurt until it went inside her [inside me!]. The cock withdrew from her mouth, filling her with a desperate longing. Emma moaned for her unseen hero, then gasped as she felt him once more. And blinked in surprise as the pretty meadow and her sexy reflection disappeared.

She was kneeling on the floor of an unfamiliar room. Shaking off a little of her confusion [don't need know much anyways...], she gasped as the tell-tale smell of pre-cum filled her nose. There was a man standing in front of her!

Sandy-blonde hair. Body like a surfer hunk! Naked. With a massive, sexy cock, dripping with her saliva and it's own juices. Ella moaned in desire, falling on all fours. Visibly trembling with lust, he tenderly cupped her cheek and slowly moved behind her.

Touching her with his [cock!].

Ever so gently, on the edge of her [...pussy!!!!]

He rammed inside her, and she screamed as an absolute feeling of rightness, of sexiness and pleasure and single-minded happiness rushed through her [MORE! HARDER! COCKKKK~]. Riding his dick she felt herself go into a trance, with nothing, absolutely nothing, disturbing her feelings. Ever. This was right. Ella moaned and surrendered to herself, drifting away on her lover's cock and mindless pleasure.

[amirasainz]

heyy !! I absolutely got HOOKED on baby!sainz reader and I'd like to ask you to write a fic about baby sainz when she's in a new relationship with an unproblematic celebrity (your choice) and the grid and the grid and her brother want them to break up by framing her boyfriend cus they think nobody is good enough for her. but she is actually happy and it's her first healthy relationship and when she finds out about what they did she is very upset with them and in the end Reyes scolds Carlos for ruining her relationship and tells him to go and fix it (ikkk its veryyy long ;] )

I'm back!!!! I changed this request a little bit but I hope you still like it.

Guys I got the notification that some request went lost on their way to me. Please, feel free to send me your request again, and I will writeit as soon as possible.

Enjoy reading and let me know if you have some whishes.

-XoXo

No Part 2!!!!

20-Step plan

When Amira Sainz and Timothée Chalamet officially announced their relationship, they didn’t just break the internet, but also the Formula 1 paddock. As usual in such situations, the drivers already had a 20-step plan. A few months ago, the drivers all prepared the plan, like some might prepare for an apocalypse. So when the perfect time arrived, the drivers set their plan into motion. Don’t get them wrong, of course they want Amira to be happy. However, in their eyes, no man was the one for Amira, even if Timothée was one of the most unproblematic actors in Hollywood. So after a “how-to-get-the-two-of-them-to-break-up-and-cheer-Amira-up-afterwards” meeting, the plan was set into motion.

Everything was going smoothly. They got to know Timothée when Amira and he visited the paddock in Canada. Then, they made sure that they spent more time around the couple. After some time, they took them partying, even going so far as only going with Timothée partying. They wanted to test his loyalty. They started little rumors about Timothée, talked with him about his exes in front of Amira, even making “innocent” assumptions about him and his co-workers. Even though nothing fazed the couple, the plan went smoothly. Until it didn’t.

“Carlos, I just feel wrong,” stated Charles. Lando, Carlos, George, Alex, and Oscar turned to their Monegasque friend after hearing his tone. Charles was deathly pale, his hands shaking. “Mate, are you okay?” asked George. “Yeah, you look horrible,” added Oscar. “Don’t worry Charles, you can help with the next step when we—” before Lando could finish his sentence, Charles exploded. “No. NO! No more us sabotaging your sister’s relationship. No more starting rumors. No more plan. I’m done with this.” Charles’ outburst made all his friends stare at him, shocked. “Guys, don’t you see how happy they are? How in love they are?” He looked at all of his friends who at least had the decency to look down. “Percival, we are just making sure that Amira is—” “No, Carlos. We are trying to ruin something that is beautiful. We all just want Amira to be happy and comfortable. And if she feels that way with Timothée by her side, then we just have to accept that.” After a moment, he continued: “If you guys want to continue, then fine. But every action has consequences.” With that, he left the room, making the other five share some looks with each other.

What they were unaware of was that Amira was standing in front of the door. She heard the whole “plan” they had and what their next step would be. Before one of the men could say anything, the door opened. They were met with Amira’s disappointed face, tears shining in her eyes. “Hermosa, what are you doing here?” asked Carlos. The moment he saw his sister, he stood up from his chair. “Carlos, what have you done? What have you all done? Why… why are you doing this to me?” Immediately, all of the drivers tried to defend themselves, while also trying to console Amira. “You know what? Save it. I don’t want to hear anything.” With that, she left the room, leaving the rest of the drivers speechless behind.

It took the drivers three months and a lot of apology gifts for Amira to forgive them. Timothée, who heard everything from his beautiful girlfriend, also convinced her to forgive the drivers after seeing how miserable they were. So after the three months, everything was like it used to be. Amira got treated like a princess and all of them are still in love with her.

Bonus (+)

When Carlos walked into the kitchen, he was met with the sight of his mother, one shoe in her hand. “Carlos, sit down,” Reyes ordered sternly. After a moment of hesitation, he sat down. “Amira told me what you did. I am more than disappointed in you, young man.” “But mamá—” “Did I say you could speak?” she rhetorically asked. After sensing he wasn’t going to say anything, she continued. “As punishment, I will take away your phone and you will sit in the chair in the corner, thinking about what you did wrong.” “Ay, mamá. I am nearly 30 years old. You can’t…” He fell quiet after seeing his mother slowly raising the shoe. “…But some self-reflecting will definitely do me some good,” he whispered, before slowly sitting down in the “I-behaved-bad” chair.

[explodingchantry]

Anders isn't my problematic fave because he isn't problematic. I think the wider concept of anders being 'wrong' the fandom has is a clear example of how biased the writing has been in the games. It's the same reason why people hate Jowan, or why they think the kinloch hold mages were stupid. There's a clear bias in the writing and framing of it all that guides the player towards feeling negatively.

The majority of answers you can give Jowan in Dao are negative, mocking, or downright insulting. The ones who aren't are just... Neutral. You can be a bit sympathetic to him in the circle origin but by the time you meed him in redcliff most of your dialogue choices are so fucking mean. In my replay I was trying desperately to be nice and sympathetic to him but the best you can do is be neutral and let him go but for every rude dialogue option there is no "you've been through something horrible, I'm sorry" or "you were manipulated, loghain took advantage of your vulnerability, I'm sorry" it's soooooo.

Likewise, I always make sure to speak to every single npc in the mage origins and the One mention of uldred before the broken circle quest is from the one mage who tells you about the different political faction enchanters are in, and it's with absolute disdain. That mage thinks uldred is annoying and it's implied that the other enchanters think so, too. Uldred who was an activist for mage liberation is treated as annoying for being an activist.

Then he turns out to be a blood mage and to have killed the majority of the circle, turning them into abominations. The message is clear: those who seek liberation are wicked. In the first game of the series, thus in the game which introduced the concept of circles at all, their existence is justified by the text. It overtly says: look at all those foolish mages, how dangerous they can be when One of them is wicked. Can you imagine if they were free? Can you imagine those abominations' destruction if they were out in the open?

Something similar happens in the mage origin, with Jowan. Through the whole origin, whilst Jowan is painted as annoying, he's definitely seen as a victim. Up until he uses blood magic, that is. Suddenly, the player is likely supposed to think "oh, so they were right to want to make him tranquil after all". Instead of being a way to show that the circle will often turn innocent mages tranquil, it shows you that greagoir was right to distrust Jowan, because he was indeed a blood mage. Instead of showing you how paranoid those in power are about mages, the writing justifies their fear and hatred.

Bear in mind this is the first game and likely the very first thing that happens to a lot of new players. The game does not expect you to know the intricacies of its lore yet, doesn't expect you to understand that blood magic is actually fucking neutral unless you sacrifice people for it. You might be tempted to argue that it's setting up for that realisation later and for you to feel bad about Jowan later, realizing he was led to blood magic because it was his only solution, because he and all other mages are caged like dogs (except this is ferelden, so the dogs are better treated than them). But then you've got the redcliff fiasco where it's obvious the writers expect you to fucking hate his guts

And while dragon age 2 is more overt in its depiction of mage suffering, it also tries to pass on the idea that kirkwall is a special case, that it's only the gallows that are this bad. That it's just Meredith whose craaazeyyy 🤪 and not just Meredith being a product of a corrupt system. The writers expect you to think of Anders as an unstable extremist, or as his writer puts it, a "bipolar terrorist" (note that ofc there's nothing fucking wrong with being bipolar, but I don't think his writer cares!)

With different writers and the exact same set of events, Anders blowing up the chantry would be easily recognized as a positive, as an act of justice, of rightful rebellion. Instead it's seen as a tragedy, a mistake. Instead Anders is categorized as a villain, morally grey even though Hawke themselves has a higher death toll than he ever will.

It's a lesson, I think. In narrative bias.

[storiesforallfandoms]

just for us ~ johnny depp

word count: 1790

request?: yes!

“Hii can you please write a Johnny Depp imagine where its the 90s, you are both famous, and the press keeps beging you  expose your relationship?”

description: being famous at such a young age makes it hard to keep anything a secret, but you’re determined to make sure your relationship is just for the two of you and not for the media

pairing: young!johnny depp x female!reader

warnings: swearing, use of y/n, rpf

masterlist (one, two, three)

I started acting when I was five years old. It was a commercial, and I had all of 30 seconds of screen time. But that 30 seconds was enough to impress the director apparently, because two years later when he was hired to direct some new sitcom, he called my parents looking to cast me as one of the main kids. The show only lasted one season, but one season was all it took to kickstart my career.

Becoming an actor at such a young age meant losing a “normal” life. I never went to normal school, normal prom or graduation. I never really had normal friends, just co-stars and other child actors. And I never had any privacy. Once I became a household name, privacy went completely out the window as I was followed by paparazzi and fans daily. Not to mention the creeps who came out in droves when I turned 18.

Nothing in my life was private. Nothing except Johnny.

We met on set of a movie we were working on together, and I knew from the moment I laid eyes on him that I was going to fall for him. I tried not to. Dating as a celebrity was basically impossible, even more so when it was with another celebrity. But i couldn’t stop myself, and when he told me he had fallen for me too, I was a goner.

Being a fellow actor, Johnny knew exactly how to keep our relationship a secret. He knew which restaurants had the most hidden away seating, which ones had the most private parking so we could actually show up and leave together. He knew how to sneak in and out of my place without paparazzi noticing, and how to do the same with me at his place.

It worked for a long time. Like, two years at least. No one had any idea we were together. Until a fan spotted us out together. They didn’t see us acting like a couple, but apparently us hanging out together years after our movie had come out was suspicious enough to get the rumor mill going. Suddenly, every interview we did had us asked at least once about our relationship. But we never broke. We kept insisting we were just friends, and we kept our relationship a secret.

It was early in the morning when my alarm clock started to blare. I groaned as I rolled over to turn it off. The bright red numbers read “7:00am”. I groaned again, sleep fighting to take me again.

I smiled as Johnny wrapped me in his warm embrace and kissed my neck. “Why are we awake so early?”

“I have a morning interview at 9,” I told him. “I gotta get up and get ready.”

He squeezed me a little tighter. “Absolutely not.”

“I have no choice, J. I can’t cancel so close to the interview.”

“Just don’t show up. Problem solved.”

I turned in his arms to face him. His eyes were still drooping with fatigue, but he was trying his best to focus on me. I smiled at him and kissed his nose.

“You can stay here and sleep,” I told him. “I’ll be back by the time you wake up.”

“You better be,” he sleepily muttered.

I chuckled and finally wiggled free from his grasp.

Getting ready for interviews never took long. I didn’t have to do my makeup because the studio makeup artist would do it for me when I got there, and an outfit was chosen for me by my stylist prior to the day. All I had to do was get breakfast, clean myself up, and get dressed in my pre-chosen outfit. I was brushing my teeth when I heard a car horn honking outside, signaling that my ride to the interview had arrived.

I took one last peak into my bedroom. Johnny was sound asleep again. I smiled and quietly moved to my bed. I placed a gentle kiss on his cheek before rushing out the door as the car honked again.

I was rushed through the makeup and placed in an uncomfortable chair within 20 minutes. I tried not to shift too much in an attempt to find a comfortable position. Morning talk shows always had the worst chairs for some reason.

The host walked onto set and greeted me cheerily. I smiled back at her, wishing I had her chipper energy for so early in the morning.

I wonder how many cups of coffee she’s had.

She sat down across from me and we were given the five minute warning. I adjusted myself in my seat one last time, then smiled as the cameraman announced we were live.

“Good morning everyone, and welcome to our special guest, (Y/N),” the host said, gesturing to me. The crowd cheered as I smiled and waved to them. “Thank you for being here.”

“Thank you for having me. I’m so excited to be here!”

The host asked me about my new movie, and I went over the talking points I had been given for every interview. It was going as smoothly as most interviews did, until the host said, “I have to ask, is there anyone special in your life?”

I kept the smile on my face, but I was sure it looked much more strained now. “Nope. I’m absolutely single pringle.”

“Really? There’s not even anything going on with you and Johnny Depp?”

I glanced over at my manager, who looked about ready to shut the whole interview down. Most celebrities have a few off limits questions that interviewers are told they can’t ask about. It’s usually super personal and private stuff that they want to keep private. For me, the one topic that was off limits was Johnny. It wasn’t just because we wanted to keep our relationship a secret, but it was also because my management and I didn’t want all my interviews to suddenly be just about Johnny and not about my work.

It was clear from the look on my manager’s face that this host was told my limitations, and she was choosing to ignore them. This was her attempt at getting a huge scoop before anyone else so that she could boost the ratings of her show.

I knew I couldn’t just stop the interview. It was a live show, stopping would just cause a scene that I knew would do more harm than good. So, I took a very subtle deep breath and said, “Johnny has been my friend since we worked together years ago. There’s nothing more between us besides friendship.”

“Oh, come on. I know you’re aware of the rumors about you two. Everyone is dying for you to finally confirm that you’re together.”

“Well, everyone will just have to keep waiting because I am not confirming what’s not true. Also, I think it’s incredibly disrespectful and invasive to keep pushing this topic when Johnny and I have both said we aren’t dating and like to have our privacy. I don’t get many things that are just for me, but I want my relationship to be one of those things.”

My manager whispered something to the cameraman, who then signaled for the show to go to commercial. Once the cameras were off, my manager demanded for me to be un-miced so we could leave. I ignored the host’s apologies as the crew took off my mic and my manager beckoned for me to come with her.

As we left the studio, she nudged my shoulder and said, “You handled that amazingly, kid.”

I had no other obligations for the day, so my driver took me back home. I was happy to be back in the comfort of my own home after that interview.

The smell of food greeted me at the door. I smiled at myself as I made my way to the kitchen. As I expected, Johnny was stood at the stove, cooking up some breakfast. He was still in his pajama pants with no shirt on. I came up behind him and wrapped my arms around his waist. He leaned into my touch, allowing me to place a kiss on his bare shoulder.

“You’re back early,” he said.

“The interview was cut short,” I responded.

“So I heard.” I looked up at him in confusion. “I woke up just in time to turn on the interview.”

I groaned. “So you saw the whole thing?” He nodded. I buried my head in his shoulder. “We told her not to ask, I swear.”

He moved in my arms, turning so he could face me. He wrapped his arms around me, too, as I moved mine around his neck instead.

“I think you handled that whole situation very well,” he said. “It was pretty clear you were caught off guard by the question, but you still handled it maturely and with more respect than I think she deserved.”

“I wasn’t going to cause a scene over it, even though I really wanted to just walk out if she had asked.”

“Would’ve made for better television if you had just stormed out.”

“You’re right. It’s probably best that I didn’t then.”

He chuckled and leaned down to kiss me. Any tension I had left from that day immediately melted the moment his lips touched mine.

“We’ll have to tell people eventually,” I said with a sigh, resting my head against his. “We can’t keep this a secret forever.”

“We’ve done so for two years.”

“Yeah, but we’ve already gotten caught once. There’s just no proof of us actually being together for the tabloids to run with. But if we slipped up once, it can happen again. Then we’ll have to tell people about us.” I sighed and added, mainly to myself, “We’ll ever get a moment of peace again.”

“It’ll happen eventually, but until then I’m happy to have our private moments,” Johnny said. He kissed the top of my head and added, “But the day I get to loudly say you’re mine will be a good day for me. I want everyone to know eventually that I have the most amazing woman as my girlfriend.”

“You’re gonna make me blush.”

“Good.”

He kissed me again, but pulled away quicker than I wanted. I tried to pull him back in, but he just shook his head and smiled. “I don’t want the food to burn. The last thing we need is everyone finding out we’re dating because I burned your house down.”

I chuckled. “Okay, you have a point.”

“Are you hungry? I made enough for the two of us.”

I nuzzled close to him as he turned back to the stove. “I’ll never say no to your cooking.”

[piningforstan]

Too Sweet

Summary: Stan has lied and cheated and fought his whole life, and he’s not exactly sure when he had time to do whatever it took to deserve you.

Pairings: Stanley Pines x Reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: mention of an age gap, suggestive adult content but nothing graphic, fluff with some light angst

A/N: Inspired by Hozier’s song by the same name!! I seriously need an edit of Stan to it

Also, an age gap LI with Stan (like they’re in their 30s or 40s) just really does something to me. Stan mentions “women” once in the story but otherwise I wrote it with the intent of being GN.

A shift of the mattress roused him from his fitful sleep. Stan cracked open an eye. The flickering alarm clock told him that he’s only been asleep for a few hours, he vaguely remembered creeping into the bedroom sometime after three. Dreaming peacefully then, free of punishing nightmares, you now stood with your back to him, stretching your arms up over your head.

His gaze traveled appreciatively from your head to the slip of skin revealed by your t-shirt lifted ever so slightly. Pale morning light slanted into the room in thin bars thrown across your face. You hum to yourself as you pull on your bathrobe and shuffle into the bathroom, Stan watching you from heavy lidded eyes the entire time.

A groan climbed up his throat. He threw one arm over his face.

What was he doing?

He didn’t miss the time when he would wake up alone, head muddled by alcohol. He missed the time when he did not feel so goddamn guilty. Your presence reminded him constantly that you were too…good for him. He had lived a long, shitty life and it never bother him — his decisions, his lifestyle — when he was by himself. But now you were here.

Not only were you younger than him, you had never done a fucking bad thing in your life. You went to bed at a decent time and always woke up early to watch the sunrise, you faced everything with unflinching enthusiasm. You smiled and laughed and danced without inhibition or regret. And, worst of all, you looked at him and loved him in spite of his mistakes and wrongdoings.

When the bathroom door opened he quickly pretended to be asleep again, the knot in his stomach tightening as you stopped to press a kiss on his cheek on your way out.

By the time he actually woke up, he didn’t even want to acknowledge the time, Stan shuffled into the kitchen to find his family immersed in a heated debate. Mable stood on her chair with Waddles on the table, gesticulating wildly while you and Dipper argued with her.

Upon spotting Stan, Mable cried out, “Grunkle Stan! We need your help.”

Stan scratched his chin. “What is it, kid?”

“If Waddles was going to wear pants —”

“They would be like this, right?” You intervened before Mable could finish, drawing a line around the pig’s midsection then gesturing towards his back half. Dipper nodded, signaling his approval.

“No, no, no, no,” Mable said, “it would be this way. To cover all his wittle wegs.”

She indicated the imaginary pants around his entire body, covering the entirety of his lower half. Stan stared in disbelief as the debate lapsed into an argument once more.

“I need coffee,” he grunted.

Without even stopping, you pressed a steaming mug into his hand, then raised your eyebrows expectantly.

Stan sighed. “Why is the pig wearing pants? That lucky son of a gun has been naked since the day he was born.”

“Just hypothetically,” Dipper said.

Turns out, Stan’s opinion wasn’t actually needed. Rather, you and the twins set to speculating about the possibility of pig pants without including him. Eventually he just collapsed into one of the ancient chairs and sipped his coffee, willing his headache to go away. He noted affectionately how passionate you were about this topic of choice, always ready to leap into whatever strange scheme his family concocted.

After some time Mabel loudly exclaimed that she was going to knit pants for Waddles to “prove everyone wrong!” and the debate dispersed. Dipper stormed off muttering, leaving Stan alone with you.

You looked still deep in thought as you collected your own now cold coffee and sat back down. You poured in about half the container of sugary creamer.

“You should’ve been on my side,” you sniffed. Stan knew by the hint of a smile on your mouth — god, your mouth — that you were teasing.

“My policy is always no pants,” Stan said. “No doubt about it. No pants.”

You rolled your eyes. “Clearly.”

Stan shifted in his seat, grinning at you. He never bothered putting on pants in the morning, just his reliable ol’ boxers.

“Hey, you’re lucky I’ve got these on. Anyways, you weren’t complaining last night by —”

“FORD!” You quickly exclaimed.

Stan’s grin only grew more pronounced as his brother strode into the room. If Ford had heard the tail end of your conversation, he didn’t mention it. More often than not Sixer was so completely in his own world that he barely knew he had company.

Stan liked how your cheeks were still pink as you bid Ford good afternoon. Afternoon. Fuck.

Panic spiraled through him.

“I’ve got a tour to give —”

You waved your hand while sipping your coffee. “I rescheduled it for…” you consulted your phone, “thirty minutes from now. Better hurry, old man.”

“Thanks, kid. You really saved my bacon.”

“Again,” Ford muttered.

Stan shot him a glare but still hurried out of the kitchen to get changed. He glimpsed Mabel in the living room, crisscrossed on the carpet, measuring Waddles for his pants. The pig snorted pleadingly in Stan’s direction.

“Women,” Stan said, “always making guys like us put on pants.”

Stan would have to be his brother to count on his fingers how many times you anticipated something he needed. The coffee. The tour. A distraction for the tourist when the googly eye of one of the exhibits popped off. A redeeming interpretation of his reaction to Waddles’ pants after spitting out his beer. Then, to top it all off at the end of the day, encircling your arms around his middle and sagging into him. His heart surged with profound emotion.

“Ah, c’mere, kid,” he mumbled against your hair. You smelled like home.

Stan held you tight. Too many times he had let the good things in his life go, slip right through his grip. He was determined not to lose you too.

He fumbled to find the words he’s been meaning to tell you all day. “I, um…thank you. For today.”

For every day.

The words stuck in his throat.

“For what?” You blinked at him. The need to protect you, to preserve your happiness and well-being, seized him so strongly that it took him several moments to compose himself.

“Ya know.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Saving my ass. Yer, uh, too sweet for me. Ya know what I mean?”

How many more times would he say ya know? Did he know any other words?

Your face lights up anyways. “I love your ass. I will always save it. Don’t want anything happening to it.” You squeezed said ass playfully and he smirked in response. “But seriously, Stan, you don’t have to thank me. I love you. That’s what you do for someone you love.”

Stan bristled. No matter how long he had been with you, after several months of skittering around each other, he wouldn’t get used to those words leaving your mouth. His parents had never uttered them, nor his brother. Hell, he rarely said it, can only remember saying them to you.

If he ever said them to anyone else — any past lovers or ex-wives — it was in a placating nature, never like this. Never real.

“Anyway, you do lots of things for me too,” you tell him.

“Do I?”

You lay your head back on his chest. “I always fall asleep before you do and you always make sure to tuck me in and refill my water when you come in. You make me laugh and you make me feel safe.”

You kept listing examples but truthfully he had stopped listening. Stan realized he did do these things, things that he didn’t even think about doing, he just did.

“—maybe you’re just too sweet for me,” you finish, drawing him back.

“Ha!” Stan laughs. Hopefully it’s more convincing than it sounds to his own ears, self-deprecating instead of secretly pleased. “Better not let anyone else hear you say that or I’d have to give them a knuckle sandwich.”

“THEY FIT!”

You closed your mouth. Whatever you were going to say is swallowed by the sounds of Mabel’s excitement. Stan smiled at you as you grabbed his hand and tugged him towards the sound of Mabel’s demands — come here! come here! — and Waddles in his new pants.

He committed everything about you to memory as you stooped down to admire Waddle and commend Mabel for her hard work. Stan knew that you would fit in perfectly with his family. He never would’ve guessed that someday he couldn’t imagine his family without you in it, couldn’t even conjure a day without you there.

Maybe you were too sweet for him.

But he was sweet on you.

[vodika-vibes]

*breaks down your door in the middle of the night* first kiss in A/B/O AU with Alpha-17 and inexperienced F!Omega reader (not in a weird way ya know?) whose never been anyone’s first choice and is completely blown away that someone as awesome and amazing as Seventeen actually wants her romantically and not just physically. He makes her feel pretty and cherished and loved and she gives it back to him tenfold in return. (Not to show all my emotions at once. P.S. I read your fic with Keeli and it pulled at my tender heart strings it was so cute, yes I’m cross faded as a mf and fighting for my life this took me over 30min to write)

I See You

Summary: You’ve spent your whole life knowing that you’re not as important as the people around you. You’ve never been anyone’s first choice, not a day in your life. And that doesn’t change when you start puberty and realize that you’re an Omega. You’ve come to accept that, at best, some Alpha will pick you for your body, which will be the end of it. And then you meet Alpha-17, and for the first time in your life, you wonder “What if?”

Pairing: Alpha-17 x F!Reader

Word Count: 1585

Warnings: ABO AU, Reader is slightly insecure

A/N: So, full disclosure, I have no idea if this was a request or you just coming into my inbox to discuss it. So I made the decision that it was a request and wrote it! I hope you like it!

Join my taglist: HERE

There are some perks to living on Kamino.

Like the free suite that you can decorate how you like and the biweekly food delivery that allows you to cook whatever you want. Not to mention, you get free medical attention and as many blockers as you might need.

Plus, and here’s the biggest perk, you never have to see your “family” ever again.

Naturally, there are some downsides to Kamino too.

You work constantly and can be called into the lab at any hour of the day. There aren’t many places where you can spend your generous pay on Kamino (you have to order your clothes online and have them delivered). And you’re one of only a handful of human Omegas on Kamino. 

You’d think that that would force all of you to get together now and then to chat or whatever. But, the truth is, you have no desire to interact with the other Omegas.

Popular fiction tends to make people think that all Omegas are soft and demure and good. Honestly, you wonder if the authors have ever actually met an Omega or if they’re just fantasizing about what an Omega should be like.

Honestly, Isabet is as mean as a rancor with a toothache, and twice as violent. And she’s not afraid to take that temper out on anyone who gets in her way. Including you on several occasions.

You’re pulled out of your thoughts at the sound of the door to your lab opening, and you slide your gaze away from the machine that you’ve been staring at and willing to work faster.

Even clad in armor, it takes you less than a second to recognize the man standing in the doorway. 

No one on Kamino is quite as big as Alpha-17, after all.

A thoughtful frown pulls your lips down, and you turn away from your machine to pick up a nearby datapad to scan the information on it. Alpha-17 never comes to the labs unless he’s due for some testing. 

You scan the schedule, and then set the datapad back on a nearby table, “If you have an appointment, I’m afraid that no one notated it in the schedule.” You say apologetically.

He tugs his helmet off and sets it on a table near the door. “I don’t have an appointment,” Alpha explains as he rolls his neck with a slight grimace.

“Oh.” You watch him a moment longer, “Are your implants acting up?”

“They ache when it rains.”

You shoot him an odd look, “It’s always raining, Alpha.”

He tosses a grin in your direction, “I know what I said.”

A heavy sigh falls from your lips, “Alright. Take your armor off and hop up on the table and I’ll see what I can do. But you really should make an appointment, Alpha.”

He obediently strips out of his armor and peels off the top of his blacks, before he lays on his stomach on your examination table. “Why would I do that? We both know that you’ll see me even without an appointment.”

“What if I had been busy?” You ask as you step over to his side and scan the cybernetics with your eyes first, before grabbing a scanner and turning it on, “Or had an appointment with one of your brothers?”

“I’m more important.” Alpha counters as he turns his head to watch you work.

“Well, someone certainly has a healthy ego.” He laughs and you press your hand between his shoulder blades, “Lie still Alpha. I’m trying to scan your cybernetics.”

“Sorry, sorry.” He doesn’t sound very sorry though, “But, come on Doc, we both know that I’m just going to have to live with the pain.”

You frown at him, “I might be able to do something. I don’t want you in pain, Alpha.”

He catches your free hand and squeezes your fingers, “Which is why you’re my favorite.”

You shake your head with a soft laugh, “You don’t have to try and flatter me, Alpha. I’ll help you without it.” You slip your fingers from his grip and start the scanner.

“And why do you think I’m just trying to flatter you? Why can’t I mean it?” He asks as he tucks his arm back under his chin while you work.

You shake your head with a sigh, “Men like you don’t say stuff like that to women like me, Alpha.” You eye the scanner and scowl at it, “It says everything is connected properly, you can sit up. I’ll find some topical pain gel—” You trail off, your mind racing as you try to come up with ways to lessen his pain.

You’re so lost in your ponderings that you don’t realize that Alpha has sat up until his large hand wraps around your wrist and he lightly tugs you around to face him.

“Yes? What’s wrong?”

“I’d like some clarification.” Alpha’s dark eyes scan your face, and his severe expression softens, slightly. “What do you mean by ‘women like you’?”

“Oh,” You pause to gather your thoughts, “I’m just…” You hold your free hand to the side, “Not enough. Not smart enough, not clever enough, not pretty enough, not charming enough.”

Something forbidding slides across his face, though his grip around your wrist is still gentle enough that you could pull away if you wanted, “And who, Doc, told you that?”

A soft laugh falls from you, “Only everyone I’ve ever met. Well, barring you.”

“They’re wrong.”

“It’s fine, Alpha.” You try to reassure him, “I’ve long since come to terms with my lot in life.” He shoots you a puzzled look, so you clarify, “I’m never going to be anyone’s first choice. That’s just how it is sometimes.”

Alpha huffs, “Fine. We’re doing this then.”

“Beg pardon?”

“Not smart enough? You’re a doctor. A specialized doctor. How much smarter do you need to be?” Alpha lists, “Not clever enough? I know I saw you exchanging barbs with Vau the other day and you won. Not pretty enough?” Here, he pauses and scans your face, “Whoever told you that must be blind or stupid or both. As for not being charming, I happen to think you’re very charming. So they’re wrong about that too.”

“Oh…ah…” You blink at him, and you can feel your face burning, “Thank you?”

“Honestly,” His voice is light, “I find it absolutely shocking that you haven’t chosen an Alpha yet. Stars know you have to have your pick.”

“No one’s ever shown any interest,” You reply honestly.

Alpha-17 mutters something under his breath, though you can’t really hear what he’s saying even as close as you’re standing to him.

“Alpha, I need to find the ointment for you. Can I have my wrist back?” You ask as you touch the hand wrapped around your wrist gently.

He scans your face for a moment before something seems to settle over him. He’s always been a confident man, settled in his skin, but he suddenly seems more, and you’re not sure why.

“Alph—?”

“Can I kiss you?”

His question shocks you into silence, and you blink at him dumbly for a moment, “I…what?”

“I want to kiss you,” Alpha says as he releases your wrist and moves his hand to gently brush his fingers against your chin. And then he flashes a wry smile, “Well, full honesty, I want more than that. But I’ll start with a kiss.”

“I don’t—”

“I want to be your Alpha.” He clarifies, “I want you to be my Omega. But if you’re not interested then this will be the last time I bring it up.” Slowly he presses his forehead against yours.

And you stare at him, kind of feeling like you’ve been hit over the head with a sledgehammer. “You’d…pick me?” You ask.

“Yes.”

You believe him. He’s not the sort to lie to you.

“I’d like a kiss,” You whisper up to him.

He grins then and tilts your head so he’s able to press his lips against yours.

And it’s good. Better than good, it’s perfect.

You’re not able to help yourself from stepping closer to him, moving to stand between his thighs, and wrapping your arms around his neck. Alpha’s arms wrap securely around your waist as he tugs you as close as he can and he holds you tightly, as if afraid that someone might rip you from him.

When he breaks the kiss, you’re breathing is slightly unsteady, something that makes him smile smugly. “We can go as slow as you want,” He murmurs, his lips brushing against your cheek, “But you are mine now, little omega.”

You hesitate for a moment, but then you smile at him, “And you’re mine?”

Alpha laughs then, “And don’t you forget it.”

Slowly he releases you, and you take a step back. You take a deep breath to steady yourself, and then take another step back, “If you still want that pain ointment, Alpha—”

“Maybe later.” He stands, “I have ARCs who need training.” Alpha glances at you, “If I chrome by your suite tonight, maybe you can give me some options to handle the pain?”

“I can do that.” You reply with a small smile.

Alpha lightly brushes his fingers against your cheek, “It’s a date.” He ducks his head to kiss you one more time, and then he leaves. And you’re left with butterflies in your stomach, and excitement in your heart.

You’ve never been anyone’s first choice. 

But Alpha…he’s different. And now you know it.

@bad4amficideas @justiceandwar98 @Mira-Loves-Star-Wars @tiredbi-peach @dukeoftheblackstar

@trixie2023 @kimiheartblade @padawancat97 @falconfeather23435 @etod

@bb8-99 @kiss-anon @continous-mistakes @imabeautifulbutterfly @n0vqni