#this is the fluffiest fluff

[yourlittlebunnyy]

ooookay im writing another tamlin x fairy!reader and its totally different from the one i already posted. Imo it's like 10 times better and i can't wait to show you guys🥹 i might post a little sneak peak tonight🧚‍♀️⭐️

[guiltyasreid]

high heels ll spencer reid x reader

warnings/tags: non, fluff, total fluff, fem reader, prince charming spencer reid word count: 1226 a/n: this is so not me I can run in heels so have fun with this one.

You were used to wearing boots, booted heels, platforms, and trainers. Never in your life had you thought you'd wear stiletto heels. It was fine, you could walk perfectly fine if you were on a flat surface, the pain wasn't even that bad.

Stairs?

No. Stairs were your biggest enemy in them. Up or down, you were like a new born deer.

"Are you sure you don't want to just wear another pair of shoes?" Spencer asked as he watched you wobble down the stairs of your apartment building.

You gave him a stink eye.

"Fine, but don't ask for my shoes later on." He gave you a look, and you smiled, taking his arm.

"Wouldn't dream of it, Doc." You giggled as you walked to the car.

Both of you were dressed formally, Spencer in his nicest black tux and you in a black satin dress that fell to your midcalf. The FBI had a dinner every couple of years just to celebrate. Spencer and you both knew it was just an excuse for an open bar. 

The drive there was easy enough. It was not far, the two steps into the hotel, you held Spencer's arm for dear life.

"Just up the stairs."

Your heart dropped at the sentence that came out of the receptionist's mouth. You looked towards the grand staircase that was heading up, in that moment, you were sure you'd end up falling down them. Spencer was clearly enjoying your sense of dread, its as if he was waiting to say 'I told you so.' 

"Come on." Spencer tugged you along, and you tried not to trip over your feet.

You started delicately taking steps up the stairs, again holding Spencer's arm. He looked amused at your struggles, but when they got to the 10th step, he sighed. It had taken you 3 minuets to climb them.

You let out a shout as he scooped you into his arms, carrying you up the stairs bridal style. Your arms automatically wrapped around his neck as you went red.

"I couldn't watch you struggle any longer, it was hurting me deeply." He spoke. You tried to hide your smile in his suit. "You definitely are liking this."

You smacked his chest with one of your hands. "Shut up."

You did enjoy every moment of it. He gave you another cheeky smile as you hit the top of the stairs. Delicately, setting you down. You brushed off your dress and gave him a bright smile.

"Thank you." You whispered, already feeling eyes on you both. You fiddled with his tie for a moment.

"Anything for you." He kissed the side of your head before allowing you to take his arm again.

The night went usually. Greeting people you knew, moments where you were on the small room for dancing. Spencer had wandered off somewhere with Derek while you stood with JJ and Will. "How are the shoes?" JJ asked, staring down at her feet. She was the one who'd gifted you them.

"They're nice, but I think most of the time I'm trying not to fall to my death." You let out a chuckle.

JJ gave you a sympathetic look. "You get used to it, I promise."

A tap on your shoulder made you turn around. Spencer stood with his arms behind his back and a cheeky smile on his face. You narrowed your eyes, wondering what he was up to.

He held out his hand dramatically, bowing slightly. "May I have this dance, my lady?"

Your cheeks heated, and you grinned. "Why, of course." You mock curtsied at him as he pulled you onto the makeshift dance floor, where a few people were swaying together.

JJ and Will were joined by the rest of the team, and they all watched them dance together with soft expressions. You giggling at his dramatic flairs to the dance. Him making sure you were only focused on him, it wasn't hard, he was the only one for you. His hair was pushed back slightly, his face had its usual light stubble, he looked like rugged prince charming.  

"Another side to him comes out with her." Derek spoke, a chuckle coming out as he sipped his drink.

Your squeal was audible when he twirled you out quickly, pulling you back in and dipping you low. "You're going to make me fall." You shook your head amused. 

"I'd never let you fall." He smiled back, kissing the side of your mouth. "If I did, I'd always be there to catch you."

"You're so cheesy." You giggled in his arms.

"I'm lactose intolerance." He quipped back, you snorted and pressed your head to his shoulder.

Will smiled at the pair and their antics. "I'll be surprised if they're not married by the end of the year." He spoke out loud.

"It's November." JJ reminded.

Will shrugged. "Like they'd ever have a traditional wedding, they'd probably get married by an Elvis impersonator, with ring pops." JJ laughed leaning back into Will.

"You look wonderful." Spencer whispered as you swayed together.

"And you look magical." You whispered back, he hummed leaning his head on yours.

The night dwindled down, You and Spencer didn't let go of each others hands for the rest of the evening. You said your goodbyes to everyone, making sure to remind the rest of the team about your Christmas party.

As soon as you started making your way out. Spencer scooped you into his arms again, everyone's eyes turned to the pair of you as he rushed out with you in his arms.

Will nudged JJ to look at what Spencer was doing. JJ raised her eyebrows. "Okay, maybe you'll be right." She muttered.

"You like doing this more than me." You laughed as he made his way down the stairs. One arm under your knees, the other under your arms.

"I admit nothing." He replied, kissing your cheek. You hid your face in his neck as he continued.

As soon as they hit the last step. You were sure he'd let you down, instead he kept walking towards the door. "What are you doing?"

"Taking you home, my lady." He replied, giving you another cheeky smile. His eyes were bright staring at you with love in his eyes.

The doorman opened the door with a smile on his face. You wiggled to be let down and he let you down softly laughing at your scowl. You shivered at the cold. He took of his blazer, quickly wrapping you up.

"You don't have to do that." You replied, about to start taking the blazer off. Instead, he just scooped you up again, not caring about the looks he was getting. "Spencer!" You laughed smacking his chest.

"Just enjoy it, I am." He grinned down at you. You rolled your eyes leaning into his shoulder.

Will was right. Three weeks later. Spencer and you announced you two were married at your Christmas party.

Pictures of you with a Elvis impersonator, two red ring pop rings on your left hands. There was pictures of you kissing while dipped. Him holding you bridal style with a bright red lipstick stain on his cheek, and a bright smile on both of your faces. One where you were holding Spencer bridal style, your face red and Spencer trying to hide his face with one hand. Then another where you both had your foreheads together just cheesing at each other. 

[jjoongstar]

❝LOLA'S LIBRARY❞✰.｡.✵°✵,¸.•✵´

my personal list of all of my fav fics that i really love and would like to reread again for fun. i'll always continue to add more on this list. NONE OF THESE WOKRS ARE MINE!!!

smut🔥| fluff ☁️| angst 💧| most fav & highly rec❤️‍🔥

★¸.•☆•.¸★ ATEEZ ★⡀.•☆•.★

love you goodbye 🔥💧[psh] breakup sex, i legit cried

intertwined☁️[psh] mermaid y/n, siren seonghwa

sleep talker🔥☁️❤️‍🔥[psh] enemies to lovers, one bed trope, vacation au, love the tension & plot

royal library🔥☁️[psh] royalty au, plot twist, legit ult fav, mak lurve giler

(not so) sweet dream☁️[psh] very fluffy, snuggling hihihshs

Red Dress🔥☁️[psh] enemies to lovers, amazing plot

You Come First🔥☁️[psh] drug dealer, dom!hwa went too far, y/n used safe word

Make Me Water🔥☁️❤️‍🔥[psh] friends to lovers, lots of giggling

prefect and t(h)reats🔥☁️❤️‍🔥[psh] harry potter au, slytherin hwa x hufflepuff y/n

I Know It's Over☁️💧❤️‍🔥[psh] historical au, tragic ending, cliche storyline but i cried anyways

The General's Wife☁️❤️‍🔥[psh] possessive military general husband hwa

The Way To His Heart (series)☁️💧❤️‍🔥[psh] joseon era, general sh, arranged marriage, amazing plot, scrumptious storyline, sngt lurve gilerr frr

She's a regular here... (pt.1)🔥☁️❤️‍🔥[psh] drug dealer, legit fav, trilogy

Use me like a drug! (pt.2)🔥☁️[psh]

Baby we're high on you. (pt.3)🔥☁️[psh, khj]

opposite attracts🔥☁️❤️‍🔥[psh,khj] addams!matz, love the plot

One Day At A Time☁️💧[psh, jyh] royal au, most heartbreaking fic ever, i legit cried ffs, there's comfort at the end

mafia☁️[khj, jwy] mafia au, love the part where she slept on hj's bed

pretty🔥[khj] pure steamy smut, no plot

training wheels🔥☁️❤️‍🔥[khj] prof hj x student y/n, taught her how to suck his cock, ft. woo

Ugh, As If🔥☁️❤️‍🔥[khj] ult fav, y/n has insomnia & he helped her , sngt lurve yurr

Loyalties☁️[khj] criminal hj x detective y/n, love the chemistry, had me giggling, kinda reminds me of sanzu

Dreamy (series)🔥☁️❤️‍🔥[khj] dilf hj, bestie sh's daughter, legit ult fav ever, literally drooling, i love this sm istg, the best one ever, they finally fuck at pt. 6

5:04 am☁️[smg] he help lulled her to sleep

just between friends🔥❤️‍🔥[smg, jyh] pure filthy smut, love all the consents

principia (pt.1)🔥☁️[jyh] prof yuyu x student y/n, got my heartbeat racing

opticks (pt.2)🔥☁️[jyh]

Teacher's Pet🔥☁️❤️‍🔥[jyh] college au, prof yuyu x student y/n, heavy angst (my heart ached sm, i legit cried), "it reopened wounds it never healed", (will reread when i feel like hurting myself again)

outlaw🔥☁️❤️‍🔥[jyh] cowboy yuyu x bartender y/n, amazing plot

cry for me🔥[jyh] pure smut, crying kink, aftercare

whichever way🔥☁️❤️‍🔥[jwy, cs] threesome, has plot, amazing chemistry, kinky

Hardcore🔥☁️💧❤️‍🔥[cjh] teacher jh x student y/n, heartbreaking frr, "you like me...but you love her-", the other women

oh shit, are we in love?🔥☁️[cjh] romcom, college au, bestie to lovers, virgin jh

Ateez Reactions: When You Use Safeword🔥☁️❤️‍🔥[ot8] tbh, idk how to desc this cuz i like seeing them immediately changed from rough & full in lust to soft & concerned

boyfriend!ateez discovering you write smut☁️[ot8] fake text, they're just so funny i giggles too much & accidently banged my head on the wall

★¸.•☆•.¸★ SEVENTEEN ★⡀.•☆•.★

emails i can't send💧[ot13] istg its so devastatingly heartbreaking, highly rec to read during the bloody season

step by step☁️[jww] softie but they were talking bout sex tho

the wolf and the fox☁️[kmg] spy au, the tension btwn the two tho

★¸.•☆•.¸★ P1HARMONY ★⡀.•☆•.★

cinnamon banana pancakes☁️[keeho] soft, fluffy, making breakfast

★¸.•☆•.¸★ OTHERS ★⡀.•☆•.★

idk which category these should go, so i'll place them here:

the better man🔥☁️[san, mingyu] threesome, college au, they fight for y/n

seeing double🔥☁️❤️‍🔥[seonghwa, wonbin] college au, red flag fwb hwa, soft shy wonbin

dividers are by @roseraris

[alltheirdamn]

Killing Me Softly | (Joel x teacher!f!reader)

Chap. 4: Lost In Moonlight

Chp. 4 Summary: You couldn't deny Joel any longer. You needed him. Rating: Explicit 18+ MDNI Word Count: 7.8k Warnings: SMUT (finally), unprotected piv sex, nipple play, cock riding, cum eating, creampie, oral (f receiving), fingering, praise kink, dirty talk, pet names (baby, good girl), aftercare, heavy kissing, mentions of past emotional abuse, soft!joel, so much FLUFF!!! A/N: I know this is what y'all have been waiting for, so I hope I did this moment justice :') I'm putting together a lil playlist for this fic, so please lmk if you're interested in seeing it! xoxo <3

Masterlist | Ko-Fi

Flower petals were strewn across the entryway as you and Joel staggered through the dark house. You couldn’t find the time—or care—to flick on the lights, too busy finding Joel’s mouth in the darkness. His hands caressed every curve of your body, fingers reaching under the seam of your sweatshirt to press against your warm skin. You tried blindly guiding him toward your room, only to awkwardly bump into corners and walls in the search, leaving you giggling and Joel cursing. You were nearly at the door when he stopped short, pinning you to the wall of the hallway so that he could devour your mouth once more. Helpless moans left your lips as he coaxed your mouth open wider, his hands roaming down your lower back. You pressed yourself closer to his chest, the outline of his hardened cock rubbing against your upper thigh. Joel pulled away from your mouth, his breath ragged as he palmed your ass with his large hands.

“I don’t want you regrettin’ this in the mornin’ if it’s not what you want,” he panted. 

“Don’t try and tell me what I want, Joel,” you whispered, kissing down the base of his neck.

He let out a shaky breath, his hands squeezing you harder. By the night's end, not a single inch of you would be left untouched. You raised your mouth to his ear, grazing over the shell of it with the tip of your tongue.

“I’m sick of pretending like I don’t want you.”

“You’re killin’ me, baby,” he groaned. 

You searched for his hand through the blanket of darkness around you, guiding him to your bedroom. You counted the steps in your head until the back of your knees hit the mattress, and you were falling back. Joel tumbled over you, one knee propped up beside your waist while his other leg was wedged between your thighs. His hands pulled at the hem of your sweatshirt, tugging it up your body until you took control and stripped it off in one fluid motion. It barely hit the ground before his hands were all over you, the touch of his skin on yours electrifying you beyond words. Every touch was soft…so fucking soft. It was dizzying to be handled so gently and with such determined intensity. Where you struggled for words, Joel responded with another caress, another kiss, another praise of adoration. 

The pads of his fingers began tracing down your sternum, working at the material of your bra. 

“Can I?” he asked, reaching behind your back.

“Yes,” you exhaled.

His fingers made easy work of the clasp, freeing you of your bra in record time. Even if you were drenched in shadows, you knew Joel’s eyes were washing over your body with rapt attention. 

“Jesus Christ, you’re fuckin’ beautiful,” he muttered as he leaned back over you.

His mouth was hot against your collarbone as he worked his way down your chest. Peppered kisses trailed over the swell of your breasts, and you arched into his gentle touch as he swirled his tongue around your hardened nipples. His tongue flicked at the sensitive skin, forcing a breathy whine to escape your lips. Joel’s teeth grazed over the soft skin of your breast before dipping his head lower and scattering your navel with soft kisses. 

“Joel,” you whimpered, carding your hands through his hair.

A thin sheen of sweat hung on the curls, forcing them to stick against his temples and forehead. You raked your nails over his scalp, earning a deep groan that rumbled through his chest. He pulled himself up so that he stood over you, and as your vision adjusted to the darkness, you watched as his hands worked at tugging his shirt over his neck and shoulders. Fuck, you wished the lights were on so you could catalog every part of his body. You sat up on the bed, craning your neck back as you traced your fingers over the soft skin of his stomach and up his chest. The hair spattering his chest tickled your fingertips as you crept higher, your hands caressing the thick muscles on his shoulders. Joel’s hands reached to cover yours, halting your blind exploration of his body.

“We should stop,” he said, strained.

You cringed as he said those three words, letting your hands drop and wrap around your bare chest. You knew it was too good to be true; he didn’t want you. Even if every atom of his being called out to yours, like some prayer for divinity, he wanted to stop. 

“I—I understand,” you hesitated.

You didn’t know where to go, with him still looming over you, so you shuffled your body up the bed, trying to find the edge of your comforter so you could bury yourself in the deepest part of your mattress and disappear entirely. Joel’s hand shot out to grab your ankle, tugging you back to the edge of the bed, and you raised yourself on your forearms, staring at him confused. 

“We should stop,” he started. “Because I don’t have a condom.”

“I haven’t been with anyone in two years,” you confessed, adding, “I’m on birth control, too.”

“Are y’sure?”

You hooked a leg around his waist, tugging him closer until he was falling forward and caging you between his arms. You craned your head to capture his lips in a hungry kiss, holding him firm against you.

“I want this, Joel. I’m sure.”

That was all Joel needed to hear before he lost all semblance of control. His restraint was replaced with this frantic urgency as his fingers worked at the button and zipper of your jeans, yanking them down your thighs and leaving you exposed to the cool air circling your room. His pants were shed less than a minute later, and now you were both only separated by thin pieces of fabric that covered your lower halves. The press of Joel’s hardened cock against your thigh ignited a fire within your stomach, and your underwear dampened through at the thought of what he could do with it. Having sex with Bennett always felt like an obligation—a chore. But with Joel, you craved it beyond understanding. You needed to put emotions into action and feel how he thought about you. Every ounce of your resolve and control were far gone now, left somewhere between the front door and the bed beneath you. The second Joel had kissed you, you knew you’d never say ‘no’ to him again. He was a weakness you couldn’t control, and you were so tired of trying to keep him at a distance.

Joel’s hands worked at your underwear, and you let out a giggle when he tossed them carelessly across the room along with his own. Your heart pounded in your chest as he lifted your leg by the back of your knee, propping it over his broad shoulder. He angled the head of his cock against your slick entrance, coating it in your wetness before pushing in slowly. Your head fell back against the bed as he broke you open inch by inch. The agonizing stretch to adjust to him faded away, and you both moaned in unison as he bottomed out, filling you completely. 

“S’fuckin’ tight, baby,” Joel cursed. “Feels fuckin’ amazing.”

He started moving, his hips rocking against you at a tender pace as you squirmed under his body. Each thrust amplified the coiling warmth, creating an unbearable furnace inside you. You needed more; you needed to feel everything and forget every lingering emotion crawling through your mind.

“Harder,” you begged.

“Yeah?” Joel panted, driving into you with such force your body shoved up the bed. “Like that, baby?”

Your only response was a vigorous nod of your head and an outward cry as he plunged deeper with each snap of his hips. Sounds of your bodies slapping together, your endless cries of pleasure, and his ragged breath became a cacophony floating through the air around you. 

A car drove past your house, the headlights streaming through the blinds, drenching Joel’s silhouette for a fleeting moment. At that moment, you could see the flex of his arms, the pinch of his brows, and the slight tug of his lips upwards as he continued wrecking into you. Rewashed in darkness, you ached to see how his pupils blew wide as he gazed down on you. 

“God, you’re so fuckin’ perfect,” Joel muttered, squeezing your hips to anchor you against his body. Perfect. There was that word again, sounding so simple when he said it like it wasn’t a lie. Like he meant it. And every action he showed you proved he not only meant it but believed it. 

You chased the warmth that unfurled through your muscles, the pleasure building higher and higher until you could barely contain it. Joel must have felt it, too, because as your eyes scrunched tight, Joel’s fingers found the sensitive bud at the apex of your sex and drew long, tantalizing circles. That touch was all you needed to come undone completely; your body was paralyzed as the orgasm wracked through you with such intensity you lost all breath inside your lungs. 

“Good fuckin’ girl,” Joel hummed. “Let go, baby. Gimmie more.”

Bennett had never spoken to you this way, nor did he praise you when you came—which was rare with him. He barely did anything but grunt once in a while, but this? Hearing Joel talk you through every thrust, every ripple of your orgasm, only spurred you on more. You clung onto every word he spoke, like a moth to the flame, and his mouth was a forest fire. 

Joel bent forward, wrapping a strong arm around your back and hauling you over until you were perched on top of him. From this angle, his cock felt so much bigger, stretching you wider until your thighs ached. He sprawled back against the comforter; his hands splayed against your hips to guide you in fluid motions above him.

“Joel…” you exhaled, grinding your hips down against him. 

“Talk to me, baby. Tell me what you need,” he urged.

You lifted your hips, sinking back down onto him, finding the perfect rhythm that rendered you speechless. You couldn’t form words or think of anything else but his name.

“C’mon, baby. I know y’can use your words. I wanna hear you.”

“It’s just—.” You heaved in a breath as he rocked up into you. “You feel so fucking good, Joel. Your cock…”

“Keep talkin’,” he moaned.

Shuffling his knees up, Joel started pistoning into you hard, making it impossible to form coherent sentences. How were you to speak when his cock was driving into you so hard your vision was blurring? Joel gritted out your name, coaxing you from your chaotic thoughts. 

“Never.” You gasped. “Been fucked this good.” Another gasp. “Need this all the time. Need—you. Fuck… Joel…”

“I got you, baby. Ain’t gonna let you go.”

You whispered his name like a cantation, each syllable a broken prayer leaving your lips. Another orgasm throbbed inside your core, and you snaked your hand to rub circles against your swollen clit, trying to alleviate that growing ache throbbing in your veins. Joel’s pace was unrelenting as you toppled closer to the edge, a cry escaping your mouth as you felt your body seize up. The clench of your sex around his cock was enough to force him to the edge, too, and as you hit your climax, his release exploded inside you, with your name falling off his tongue.

Joel lifted himself, molding your bodies together in his firm grip, your lips crushing together as he swallowed the tiny sounds still finding their way up your throat. Your hands clasped around the sides of his neck, keeping his mouth locked with yours until you felt his cock soften inside you. With a roll of his hips, Joel had you pinned to the mattress once more, his cock slipping free as he worked his mouth down your body. You tensed as his mouth grew closer to your navel, embarrassment forcing your spine to stiffen.

“Joel,” you cautioned. “You—you don’t have to do that.”

His nose brushed over your stomach, his hands working in tandem to pry your legs apart. With a dip of his head, he placed a gentle kiss on each thigh, humming in satisfaction.

“Y’want me to stop, baby?” He asked, his warm mouth hovering over your sensitive clit.

“I just—.” You were flustered. “I’ve never had someone…”

His fingers flexed and tightened around the supple skin of your hips, and you could see his dark eyes peering up at you with confusion as his brows knit together. 

“Don’t you dare tell me you ain’t ever had a man eat your pussy,” he warned. 

You bit your lip and gave him a single nod of your head. Bennett never went down on you, always making some sort of excuse. “You wouldn’t like it.” “I’m too tired, honey.” “Maybe next time.” He never offered, and eventually, you gave up asking. You could hardly count any guy before him since most had been careless hookups and one-night stands—most of them leaving you to chase your orgasm after they left. You couldn’t even count on two hands the times Bennett actually made you cum, and now Joel was setting himself up to do it again…for the third time.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered, covering your face to hide the shame that burned under your cheeks.

“Baby, don’t do that,” Joel pleaded. “S’nothin’ to be sorry for, okay?”

“But you just…” You could feel his cum leaking out of you, still. Was he seriously considering this right now?

“I don’t care. I wanna taste us together, baby. Let me show you how good it can feel.”

You inhaled sharply, only responding with another tilt of your head. Joel’s mouth hovered over your slick entrance, his eyes still trained on you.

“Gimmie words, baby,” he said. “I need to hear you say ‘yes’.”

“Yes, Joel,” you whispered.

“Y’want my tongue?”

When you didn’t respond, he teased you with a sharp flick of his tongue against your clit, forcing a cry to erupt from your mouth. Joel groaned at your responsiveness to his touch, awarding you with a thick swipe of his tongue over your slick entrance. He worked at you like he was a dying man, and you were the last drop of water in an empty desert, lapping at every drop of cum dripping down your sex. You glanced at him, meeting his piercing stare between your legs. Rough fingers massaged your sore thighs while his tongue dove into you with such desperation you couldn’t tell if he was pleasuring you or if you were pleasuring him. Euphoria sparked in your veins, overwhelming you to the point of tears. Snaking a hand under your thigh, Joel worked two thick fingers inside you, prying you open and coaxing a sob from your throat. 

“Right there, oh my god. Joel, don’t stop,” you choked, gasping for air. 

His fingers and tongue worked at you in tandem, the orgasm surging inside you becoming all-consuming. It thrashed inside your veins and tore through you forcefully and without warning. You slumped against the comforter as your soul floated above your body. Was delirium a real thing? Because if it was, this was the precipice of madness. Joel swept a soft kiss over your aching clit before crawling on top of you again. Tangling his hand in the hair at the base of your neck, he brought his wet lips to yours until your lips parted, allowing his tongue to slip inside. 

“Taste yourself, baby,” Joel moaned into your open mouth. “Don’t we taste so fuckin’ good?”

“Mhmm,” you whimpered.

Joel kissed you fervently; each stroke of his tongue against yours was purposeful and searing, a blistering admission of devotion and admiration. You still felt undeserving of it all: his patience, tenderness, and kindness… but maybe this was a start. Maybe he was worth letting it. 

As the kisses slowed and your bodies begged to be unstuck from one another, you found a stream of tears rolling down your cheeks. Fuck. The euphoria you had been sucked into was fading into the distance, and you were overly aware of the emotions crashing at the surface. Your voice was hoarse as you mumbled his name, breaking away from his embrace. 

“I’m sorry,” you sniffled, turning your head into the pillows. 

Joel hushed your cries, dragging his thumb over your cheek to collect your tears. 

“What’s wrong, baby?” He asked. “Did I do somethin’ wrong?”

“No, no,” you said, voice muffled. “I’m okay. Everything was great.”

“Then why’re you cryin’?”

You turned your head back to face him, catching the furrow of his brows through bleary eyes. 

“It’s stupid,” you muttered.

“Talk to me, please.”

You curled into his arms, burrowing your head into the crook of his neck. The smell of sex and sweat wafted off of him, mixing with the lingering warm cologne wafting off his skin. You never wanted to leave this moment. You never wanted to be untangled from his limbs. It was a terrifying realization; this was something you wanted. 

“You’re just—not what I expected.” It came out as a mixture of a laugh and cry, leaving you gasping for breath. “I haven’t been the easiest person to get to know, and I haven’t been the kindest, but you… you haven’t left. I don’t understand why you haven’t left.”

“Hey, hey… oh, baby,” Joel crooned. “Look at me.”

Joel’s fingers slid under your chin, fighting against your reluctance as you met his shadowed gaze. In the sunlight, you could see the unmistakable flecks of amber and gold swirling in his eyes, but in the darkness, they were nearly black—but just as soft and ardent. 

“I’m not goin’ anywhere, okay? There ain’t a single thing that’s gonna change my mind about you. I know you’re worried about all this stuff happenin’ between us, but we can take things as slow as you want, baby. You call the shots from now on, and whatever you wanna do, I’ll be here,” he said. 

“I’m not worth—.”

“Don’t,” he interrupted. “You are worth it. I’ll spend every day provin’ it if that’s what it takes.”

You didn’t know what to say when all you could cling to were the lingering memories of Bennett and the words he had once said. Yes, you loved him at one point, but there were so many reasons to hate him. The constant fights, the constant feeling of never being enough, the constant silence. The silence. Bennett’s silence was a weapon he used to pacify you. You learned over time that speaking up and communicating your feelings was unimportant to Bennett; if anything, it was an opportunity to minimize your voice and keep you docile. You became the smallest version of yourself in his shadow, clawing for scraps of his attention to try and keep the relationship afloat. You tried so hard to keep him happy until it came at the cost of losing yourself entirely. You didn’t recognize yourself anymore. 

“What can I do right now?” Joel asked, his voice swimming upstream against the thoughts that drowned you. “D’you wanna take a shower and sleep? Sarah’s at a sleepover tonight, so I ain’t got nowhere to be but here with you.”

You exhaled a heavy sigh, nodding your head at his offer. Joel unwound his limbs from yours, pulling you to your aching legs and letting you take the lead toward your ensuite. With a shaky hand, you flicked on the lights, your eyes squinting to adjust to the harshness of color that washed over the room. A quick look in the mirror told you everything you needed to know; you were thoroughly fucked and completely strung out. Your hair was a tangled mess hanging over your shoulders, your lips fuller and swollen from kissing, yet your eyes were hollow and glossy. Joel’s tall frame came into view behind you, his tanned arms snaking around your middle and tugging you back against his chest. Through the mirrored reflection, he held your gaze with an unwavering kindness that tore through every self-deprecating voice in your head. With his hand splayed over the expanse of your stomach, Joel dipped his head lower, his mouth hot against your ear. 

“Look how beautiful y’are, baby,” he praised. 

“Joel,” you whimpered, clenching your thighs together to quell the slow ache pulsating inside you again. 

You wanted so badly to see what he saw, but all you saw was the lingering handprints of the past plastered over your skin. The places Bennett had touched and kissed before, the echoed arguments that deafened your ears, every inch of you was left tainted. They say it takes the body seven years to replace its cells—seven years to be a new person from the inside out. You were hardly on the cusp of three years since Bennett last touched you, but you desperately wanted to be shed of every fiber that still clung to his memory. You couldn’t speed up the process; it was out of your control, but Joel touched you like he sought to do it himself. Inch by inch, your body would forget Bennett’s touch. It was your heart that needed to follow the same path. 

Joel’s deep voice whispering your name roused you from your thoughts, and your eyes snapped up to meet his through the mirrored reflection. Everything fell away, and you lost yourself again in the simplicity of being in the moment with him. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” he urged, his hand coming down to palm your ass before delivering a light slap. 

You let out a startled laugh, forcing your legs to move and start up a warm shower. The second you both stepped under the blazing warmth of the spray, Joel had you pinned to the wall. You yelped at the startling cold of the tiles that pressed into your spine, but Joel’s hungry mouth swallowed every noise you made. Droplets of water fell off his damp curls, settling on your open mouth as he intertwined his tongue with yours. 

“C’mere,” he whispered, tugging you back under the pelting rain of the showerhead. 

You leaned your head back under the water, letting the water rush over your skin and drench your hair. Joel’s fingers twisted their way up the wet tendrils, gingerly massaging your scalp until a satisfied moan escaped your lips. He worked at lathering shampoo into your hair, scraping his nails across your scalp with each drag of his fingers. 

“This feels nice,” you muttered, your voice lost in the downpour of water above you. 

The resounding hum from Joel’s chest was all you heard as he washed your hair, his hands never leaving your body, even after the suds began to float down the drain. You lifted yourself on your toes to bring your mouth to his, not trusting yourself with words. For once in your life, you were speechless.

Time slipped away, and it wasn’t until you noticed your fingertips had pruned and the water ran cold that Joel finally tugged you out of the shower. You searched for two towels in your cabinets, watching as his hands worked the fabric over the low taper of his hips. Water droplets clung to the dark hair covering his chest, the muscles of his torso rising and falling with each breath. Your eyes wandered up to his face and settled on the natural upturn of his lips. You tried to fight the smile forming on your lips, but denying the emotions spreading through your body was practically impossible. 

You were happy. 

“I don’t like when you’re this quiet,” Joel chuckled softly. “I’m so used to you talkin’ or arguin’ with me.”

You blinked up at him, watching the crease form between his brows. It was the first time someone had an issue with you being quiet. 

“I’m sorry,” you said. It was your default response to everything. You were sorry for talking too much; you were sorry for not talking enough… you were just sorry. 

Joel’s hands came up to cup your face, leaving you with no choice but to look into his tired eyes. 

“I hate that you always say that,” he confessed. “I’m gonna make sure y’learn not to always say 'sorry'.”

“You’re gonna teach the teacher?” You lifted a brow. 

He chuckled and lifted his lips to press a gentle kiss against your forehead. 

“There she is,” he muttered against your skin. “Now, c’mon. You tired me out, and I can’t sleep without hearin’ your voice.”

“Oh, really?” You teased, peering up at him.

“Yeah, really,” he smiled. “So, let’s get our asses in bed, and y’can talk my ear off ‘til we fall asleep.”

And that’s exactly what you did. Hidden under the sanctuary of your comforter and pulled tight against Joel’s chest, you talked until the hours grew late. You told him about your childhood and how you failed math in sixth grade. You told him about your rebellious teen years, divulging the horrendous stories of how you and Beth would sneak out to parties together. He asked about college, and you told him what you could without including Bennett in the story. Occasionally, he would chime in to ask another question, and the conversation would keep rolling, suspending you both in time as you remained wrapped up in one another's embrace. Every doubt had faded, but as your eyes drifted shut, you hoped your guard would start fading, too. 

Morning sunlight streamed through the blinds that fluttered against your bedroom window, drenching the room in the warm colors of sunrise. You burrowed deeper into Joel’s body, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat matching yours as he kept your back flush to his chest. His fingers flexed against your hips, tugging you closer—if that was even possible. 

“Mornin’, baby,” Joel said, his voice gravelly from sleep. 

“Good morning, Mr. Miller,” you yawned, shimming your body back against his, awarded with the hard press of his cock at the seam of your ass. 

“Oh, don’t start with that shit again,” he groaned, rolling you onto your back.

A laugh bubbled out of you as he framed you between two large arms. Craning your neck, you met his tired eyes and saw the laugh lines creasing the corners. This was how Joel looked in the morning, happy. With his curls untamed and that lopsided grin, he looked happy…with you. 

“I’m only teasing,” you laughed as his mouth worked its way down your neck.

“Fuckin’ better be,” he muttered in between each kiss. “I just got you sayin’ my name, so y’ better not take it back.”

“Oh, does me calling you Mr. Miller not turn you on?” You quipped.

“Trust me, baby, everything you do turns me on,” Joel growled.

“I don’t believe you.”

Joel’s mouth traveled down your chest, sucking marks into the skin of your breasts. You careened into his touch, moaning as his teeth grazed over a peaked nipple.

“When I saw you for that first time,” he started, his mouth still hot against your skin. “That fuckin’ dress you wore at the dance…I knew I was a goner. Looked so fuckin’ beautiful.”

“Yeah?” Your voice was ragged as he continued moving lower. 

“I still think about how you teased me at the bar,” he said. “It drove me crazy, I swear.”

He had your legs spread open now, his nose pressed into your inner thigh. Arousal pooled between your legs, and you stole a glance at Joel’s eyes, connecting your slick entrance. Even though he fucked you sore last night, your body was addicted, so devastatingly responsive to every word he said. 

“And when you yelled at me? Fuck, somethin’ about seeing you all riled up. You don’t know how many times I’ve thought ‘bout you with my hand around my cock. I can’t get enough of you, baby,” Joel whispered. 

“You’ve thought about me like that?” You exhaled. 

“Ain’t nothin’ professional ‘bout the way I think about you.”

“Keep talking, Joel,” you begged. You were drunk on his words, completely and utterly wasted on every admission he made.

“Thought ‘bout you spread out like this for me.” He flattened his tongue against your entrance, lapping at the juices leaking out of you. “Dreamt ‘bout how sweet you’d taste and how you’d look when you cum.” His eyes snapped up to meet yours, holding your focus as he repeated the motion with his tongue. “Y’taste better than I ever expected.”

“Fuck,” you groaned, your eyes rolling back.

Joel’s lips suctioned around your clit, his tongue flicking at the sensitive bud in a steady rhythm. You bucked against his mouth, chasing the orgasm that snaked its way through your stomach. He released you with a loud pop, his tongue tracing over your folds and dragging out the pleasure that swelled inside your core. He was teasing you, controlling your pleasure until it became tortuous. You cried out in frustration, bucking against his mouth, trying to find release. 

“Be patient for me, baby,” Joel whispered, ghosting his tongue over your clit again.

“Please, Joel,” you begged. Your fingers twisted into the bedsheets, your nails digging into the fabric to keep you grounded. 

Joel’s tongue teased your entrance, barely dipping into you—enough to make you curse under your breath. The longer he teased you, the stronger the need for release became. All you wanted was to fall apart, to feel the orgasm vibrate your nerves and relieve your heart from its erratic beating. You could hardly contain it any longer.

“I—I need…” You were blubbering nonsense, your thighs shaking around his head. 

“I know what ya’ need, baby. Just a lil’ bit more.”

Then he was assaulting you with his tongue, drawing circles over your throbbing clit until every muscle in your body tensed and trembled. Your vision blurred as everything rushed to the surface, your thighs squeezing around Joel’s head as the pleasure liquified inside you. You screamed out his name as your orgasm crescendoed and crashed hard. You clawed at the bed, your body seizing up with the final aftershocks rocking through you.

“I could do this for hours,” Joel hummed, nudging your throbbing clit with the tip of his nose.

You squirmed under him, trying to shove yourself up the bed and away from him. You were overstimulated and exhausted, your body still recovering from last night… and this. 

“What? Torture me?” You grumbled. 

Joel chuckled, smirking at you. He rolled onto his back, keeping his arm wrapped around your thigh. His finger massaged circles into the sore muscles, another groan leaving your lips. 

“Make you cum, baby,” Joel said. “Anythin’ you want, I’d do it.”

“How about you make me a coffee, Mr. Miller,” you sighed. “You’ve exhausted me.”

“And how do you like your coffee, Miss Smith?” He tossed back.

“Guess.”

Joel tilted his head back to look at you, his brown eyes glowing in the morning sun. He pursed his lips, studying you as he thought up an answer. 

“I’m guessin’ you like it strong,” he mused. “Maybe a lil’ dash of cream, but definitely no sugar.”

You let out an exaggerated gasp that turned into a fit of laughter. Joel raised an eyebrow at your response, rolling onto his stomach to watch you as you continued laughing. How did he read you so well? Even if it was just something as simple as coffee. 

“What’s so funny, huh?”

“It’s just crazy how well you know me, that’s all,” you giggled. 

“Wait, I guessed right?” He gaped. 

“Mhmm, right on the nose.”

“Well, c’mon, baby. Let’s get you that strong cup of coffee.” 

Joel tapped your leg before offering a hand to lift you from the bed. You scoured the floor for your underwear, finding them hidden under your nightstand alongside Joel’s boxers. With half your bodies clothed, you led Joel to the kitchen, the natural light reflecting off the marble countertops. It felt strange having someone in the house; you hadn’t brought anyone over since before Bennett left. You had grown so accustomed to your daily routine that including Joel in it felt unnatural…but also so normal. 

“Make yourself comfy,” Joel urged, motioning to the barstools at the end of the counter. 

You shimmed yourself onto the seat and watched him navigate around your kitchen. Your small pour-over sat in the corner beside the stove, which Joel quickly figured out. 

“Mugs?” He asked, glancing over his shoulder.

“Top right cabinet,” you said, pointing toward it.

Joel’s back muscles flexed as he reached to grab two mismatched mugs, and you leaned forward to watch him so relaxed in your home. His presence filled all the empty spaces you had hidden within the last two years. 

“I made coffee,” Bennett called from the kitchen.

You dragged yourself out of bed, wrapping a blanket around your shoulders as you shuffled down the hallway. The house smelt of coffee and pancakes, and the morning was off to a good start. After a late night of arguing, you hoped a shared breakfast together would at least minimize the hostility between the both of you. 

Bennett slid a mug across the counter, your hands wrapping around the hot ceramic and inhaling the steam that floated above the liquid. You muttered a soft ‘thank you’ before taking a sip, instantly scrunching your nose in disgust. 

“Did you put sugar in this?” You asked, setting the mug down.

Bennett shrugged, sipping from his mug, unphased by your complaint. His hair was messy from sleep, the blonde strands sticking up at odd angles. He had slept on the couch for the night, which clearly didn’t do him well. 

“You always have sugar in your coffee,” he glared at you. 

“Bennett, when have you ever seen me put sugar in my coffee?” 

“I don’t know,” he huffed. “Figured you liked it. Don’t all girls like sugar in their coffee?”

You scoffed at his words, shoving away from the counter and slipping off the barstool. Gripping the blanket tighter around your shoulders, you sulked into the living room, dropping yourself on the couch cushions.

“Here we go again,” Bennett grumbled, loud enough for you to hear.

Whipping your head back toward the kitchen, you jabbed a finger at him, a scowl twisting your lips upwards. 

“Don’t you dare,” you warned. 

“For fucks sake, it’s just coffee!” He yelled. 

“It’s not just coffee,” you argued. “It’s you not knowing anything about me. It’s you not paying attention to me!”

Bennett slammed his mug onto the counter, rattling the ceramic. You jolted at the sound, shrinking further into the couch. 

“I’m so sick and tired of hearing you bitch all the fucking time,” he snapped. “You always have something to complain about. Who cares if there’s sugar in it? I was trying to do something nice, but now you’re turning it into an argument. Like you always do. I can never do anything right, huh? It’s always my fault.”

His words were like a slap in the face, a knife to the open wound still bleeding from last night. You and Bennett had gone to dinner together, and he spent half the night complaining about work, never once letting you speak. When you tried explaining that you wanted to enjoy a nice dinner without discussing work, he unleashed a speech about how you were never happy with anything. The argument followed you home until you were both in a screaming match and eventually retiring separately for sleep—you in an empty bed and him on the couch. All you had wanted was a nice date night together, and it ended as it always did: you alone. 

“I just wish you’d pay attention to me,” you muttered. 

“Because everything is always about you, right? You’ve got to make everything about you. You can’t just say ‘thank you’ and move on.”

You sucked in a breath, trying to keep your anger at bay. Arguing with him was a losing battle; he would never admit his faults, even if it were something as simple as this. You were too exhausted to fight, so you only nodded and rewarded him with a tightlipped smile. 

“Thank you for making coffee. I’m sorry for getting upset.”

Bennett rolled his eyes, dumping his coffee in the sink. 

“Whatever. I gotta get ready for work.”

Then he was disappearing down the hall, slamming the door shut hard enough to knock a picture frame off the walls. You jumped at the sound and let the tears quietly fall as you sat in heavy silence. 

“You alright?” Joel’s voice echoed around you. 

You blinked rapidly, shoving down the memories and returning to the present. Joel had a hand extended to you, the mug piping hot and billowing with steam. You took it carefully, blowing on it before you took a cautious sip. Perfect. It was perfect, and it twisted something unpleasant inside you. 

“I’m fine,” you lied, setting the mug down. You mindlessly traced circles around the brim, watching the bubbles around the edges pop against the heat. 

“Am I that bad at makin’ coffee?” He frowned, leaning against your fridge. 

“No, it’s perfect. Thank you.”

“You’re thinkin’ about somethin’, huh?”

“Stop doing that,” you whispered, adverting your gaze toward the sliding doors leading to your backyard. 

“Doin’ what?”

“Seeing right through me.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught Joel moving through the kitchen, rounding the counter to stand in front of you. With a gentle hand under your chin, he drew your attention his way, a deep furrow between his brows. 

“You wear your emotions on your face,” he said. “I can tell when you’re upset ‘bout something.”

“We don’t need to talk about it,” you sighed. 

You didn’t like seeing Joel’s lips downturned; you missed the grin typically plastered on his face. You felt guilty for being the reason he looked so upset, and your knee-jerk apology was on the tip of your tongue. Joel bent down to kiss your forehead, his lips lingering an extra moment before he pulled away. 

“What if I wanna talk about it?” He asked.

“I don’t think you do,” you laughed bitterly. 

Joel crowded you, stepping into the space between your legs. You were at eye level with his chest, counting the constellations of freckles hidden under the hair covering his torso. You’d rather marvel over his broad frame than discuss the painful memories of your past. You didn’t want to ruin this moment together. 

“It’s okay,” you insisted. 

“Don’t shy away from me, baby. Y’can talk to me ‘bout anything.”

You hesitated a moment. Joel had you spread open on your bed only minutes ago, and now the topic of your past was about to be the morning discussion. You didn’t want to talk about Bennett after an amazing night together, but if you knew anything about Joel, he wasn’t letting you off the hook that easily. He always wanted to know more.

“You’re just different from what I’m used to,” you started. “Bennett, my ex, wasn’t like you. He didn’t pay attention to me the way you do.”

Something flashed over Joel’s eyes, a sudden flicker of anger as you spoke about Bennett. He gave you a moment to collect yourself before you continued. 

“We were together for five years, and he didn’t even know how I liked my coffee,” you scoffed. “And you guessed it in two seconds. Two seconds, Joel. I don’t understand how you do that.”

“Do what, baby?”

“Pay attention. You notice all these stupid, little things about me and make it seem so easy.”

Joel cupped your face in his large hands, his thumbs rubbing over your cheekbones. You leaned into him, letting his touch ground you while your eyes fluttered shut. 

“I pay attention ‘cause I wanna know everything about you. Every single lil’ thing. That’s what it’s supposed to be like in a relationship, baby. Y’learn everything about the other person, and you remember it. From what you’ve hinted ‘bout before, I take it this Bennett guy was a real piece of shit.”

“Yeah, that’s what everyone has told me.”

“Am I wrong, though?” Joel pressed.

“No,” you confessed. “He did treat me like shit. I wasn’t allowed to speak up for myself, or he got mad. He liked it when I was submissive and quiet, so that’s what I became.”

Joel’s fingers flexed against your face, his jaw clenching at every new admission. You had never admitted those things aloud, that Bennett forced you into this tiny box, making you become the perfect, obedient girlfriend. With an engagement ring on your finger, you were even more inclined to be whatever he wanted, just to know he wanted to marry you. Looking back, maybe the ring was less of a testament to his love and more of a muzzle on your outspokenness. Someone wanted to marry you, so that should make you quiet, right? 

“I don’t want you quiet,” Joel whispered, pressing his forehead to yours. “I want you to be yourself in every way.”

“I don’t know who I am anymore, Joel. I haven’t been that girl in years.” 

Tears were spilling over your cheeks, soaking Joel’s fingers that still gripped your face. Why did you cry so much around him? You hated how emotional you were; you hated feeling weak and small. You couldn’t get through one fucking interaction with Joel without ending up a mess. Did Bennett ruin you entirely? 

“I’m sorry,” you cried quietly. “You probably need to leave soon, huh? You said Sarah’s at a sleepover, so I’m sure you gotta go get her and—.”

Joel tugged you forward, fusing his lips with yours. The taste of coffee and sleep lingered on his tongue as he coaxed your mouth open, and you welcomed him without hesitation. He kissed you slowly, with deliberate determination. You responded the same, letting yourself grow limp in his arms.

Breaking away, Joel leveled you with a stern stare that didn’t quite reach his lips since they twitched into a smile.

“I’m gonna kiss you every time you apologize just to shut ya’ up,” he said.

“That doesn’t sound like a threat, Joel,” you smirked. “I’ll just apologize more.”

“Then I’ll figure out some other punishment.”

Your thighs clenched at his words, and your mind wandered to all the possibilities of what he could do. You hadn’t lied to him when you said you didn’t always like things ‘vanilla,’ but you hadn’t really dipped your toes into that area yet. You’d willingly explore it with him because if last night proved anything, it was that you trusted him more than anyone. He could do anything to you, and you knew you’d be safe.

“Got a dirty lil’ mind, huh?” Joel’s voice dropped lower.

“Oh, shut up.” You playfully shoved at his chest, shimming yourself off the barstool. 

Joel wrapped a hand around your wrist, pulling you back into his arms. 

“I’m serious, though, baby. It fuckin’ kills me to see you cry. I’m gonna fix that.”

“You don’t have to, Joel. I’ll be okay. I’ll work on it.”

“We are gonna work on it,” he corrected.

You swallowed thickly and nodded. You were in uncharted territory with him, afraid of the future but willing to see where it would go. You had fought against it for almost two months now, and you were tired of fighting. You’d take things slow and test the waters with him… and hope you wouldn’t come out the other side with a shattered heart.

After cleaning up the flower petals left in the entryway and redressing, you finally urged Joel to go home. It was mid-afternoon, and you knew Sarah would want time with her dad. You couldn’t selfishly keep him to yourself, but he made it very known how badly he wanted to stay. With his flannel in his hand and his hair slightly tamed, Joel lingered by the door, reluctant to leave. You had shrugged on a robe while he had dressed, already dreaming about the long bath you’d take when he left. Your muscles were screaming for release after last night and this morning.

“Y’sure I can’t stay a bit longer?” Joel pouted, his lips pushed out as he glanced at you.

You laughed at his demeanor, enjoying the playfulness he always exuded. You wanted to learn how to be like that, to shed the walls built up around you.

“Sarah’s going to want to spend the day with you,” you said. “We can plan another date soon.”

“Or…” Joel wagged his brows. “I could come back tonight.”

“Oh my god,” you laughed, rolling your eyes. “Go home, Mr. Miller, before I kick you out.”

Joel tugged the belt wrapped around your waist, hauling you closer until you were bumping into his chest. Dipping his head, he pressed a soft kiss against your lips. You could feel the smile forming on his lips as you nipped at his bottom lip.

“Have a good day, baby,” he grinned. “I’ll call ya’ tonight.”

“I’ll be waiting,” you exhaled.

You watched Joel until he got to his truck, his grin shining bright under the afternoon's clear skies. You waved at him as he drove off and closed your door with a heavy sigh. You needed to find your phone and make a very important phone call.

“You had sex with him, huh?” Beth asked, the phone barely reaching the second ring before she picked up.

You flopped onto the couch, your head hitting the cushions with a soft thud. 

“I did,” you groaned.

“And?” She pressed.

“It was fucking amazing, Beth. I’m so screwed.”

“Why? Isn’t this a good thing? You finally hooked up!”

You grabbed a pillow to slap over your face, muffling a frustrated scream so that Beth wouldn’t hear.

“I’m scared, Beth.”

“Scared of falling in love?” Beth asked.

“Scared of getting hurt,” you sighed. 

Beth was quiet for a moment, exhaling before gathering her thoughts and speaking her mind. 

“You can’t let your past get in the way of this, sis,” she started. “Joel sounds like an amazing man, and he’s night and day different from Bennett. I get you’re scared of getting hurt, but I seriously doubt he would do anything to hurt you. Let him in, sis. Let him love you the way you deserve.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, trying to reel in the tears… again. Beth was right, like always, but it didn’t make these feelings easier to battle. There was so much to lose.

“It’s obvious he likes me already, but I’m such a fucking mess. I—I feel so broken, still. What if he gets tired of me? What if he never feels anything more than this?”

“I think he’s already falling in love with you, sis.”

[kindaoptimisticsquirrel]

WHAT DO I HEAR you haven't read Cardcaptor Sakura and haven't heard about these two dorks named Touya and Yukito? Time to change that! (Luring you in with this photoset...pspsps....)

[d-llahanspade]

Woof

[stvrniclo]

✩‧₊ chris sturniolo drabble

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ

as music played in your air pods, you painted your nails a subtle shade of light pink. you were sitting amidst piles and piles of mess in chris' room; clothes, soda cans, wrappers, what not. but honestly, you were tired after a long day of working at the café and were busying yourself up with something that would drive your headache away, and you just could not be bothered with another session of cleaning.

chris, meanwhile, was at his desk, playing games with nick, matt and some of their friends. in his left hand was a can of his favourite soda, and his eyes were widened as he concentratedly gazed at his screen. you looked up at him every three minutes or so, smiling to yourself about just how adorable he looked, doing his own thing. like, you couldn't help but giggle at the way his hair always found a way into his eyes and he brushed it away annoyedly. or how he widened his eyes when he was really concentrating.

you'd finished painting your nails and you were in love with the way they looked. you excitedly hopped off chris' sofa, putting on your slippers as you rushed to chris. "chrissy! look at how cute my nails look!" you giggled. he looked up at your hands for a second, nodded, then looked away, but looked back up at you as he saw the cutest smile playing on your lips and just how happy you looked. "c'mere," chris said, beckoning you into his lap. he placed his soda softly on the desk, pushing it away to the side.

"okay," you said, gently climbing into his lap. you wrapped your hands around his neck, nuzzling your head into the crook of his neck, warming up to the soft material of his grey hoodie. "your hoodie's so soft," you say indignantly. "can i borrow it later?"

chris let out a little laugh. "of course you can, baby." he pressed a few kisses to your forehead. "you don't need to ask."

"okay, so i can steal your clothes any time i want?" you asked, looking up at him.

"yeah." chris reassured you. "whenever you want."

"you're so cute, y'know.." you said, planting your hands into his soft hair as you ruffled it up.

"yeah?" chris replied. "of course i am. i'm christopher owen sturniolo, the cutest man to ever walk this earth."

"i know that," a soft giggle slipped past your lips. "your hair's so fluffy, i wanna mess it up all the time, and your eyes are so pretty. i want them to be looking at me all the time."

"but i do look at you all the time. you're all i ever look at," chris said indignantly.

"i know, baby," you sighed. "you make me so happy."

"yeah, well, i love you," chris said, planting soft kisses across your neck and your collar.

"mm.. i love you too," you managed.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒

thank u for readingg !! mwahh <3

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ #ㅤㅤ𝒅ivid𝖾r by @florietasㅤㅤ☆

[railingsofsorrow]

hiiiiii!!!! i saw your requests were open and i’m so excited i love your writing so much!! i was wondering if you would be willing to do a coffee shop au of spencer x barista!reader? i feel like it would be very fluffy :) <3

a healthy caffeine addiction

[spencer reid x reader]

summary: spencer finds a new coffee shop near work and he may be going there not just for the coffee...

pairing: s.reid x gn!barista!reader

w.c: 3K

warnings/content: a lot of flirting; mentions of case related stuff but you blink and you miss it; fluff fluff!! (you asked for it); swearing.

A/N: hi! I used gender neutral pronouns because you didn't specify so I thought it would fit best. the coffee shop is called “enchanted brewing” just do you don't get confused. one more thing! I mixed two of his best eras, glasses + long hair just because I was feeling a little silly. thank you for the request <3

navi

masterpost

cm masterlist

[requested] ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Oh, look, it's boy genius again.” You muse upon seeing a certain long-haired FBI agent next on the line. He's wearing a purple tie today which checks out your theory that it's his favorite color because he's always wearing something purple. It would be funny if it was an unconscious choice. “What's your order today, Dr. Reid? Maybe some coffee with your sugar?” You ask as if you hadn't seen him earlier in the day and had repeated the same thing.

You've met Spencer Reid when he walked in one day as the coffee shop you work in was still closed. He hadn't seen the closed sign. After spending five minutes straight apologizing, you delivered him his coffee order promising he wasn't bothering you. Especially if he was a cute guy with glasses. But you didn't say that last thing out loud, of course.

He's been coming to Enchanted Brewing for two weeks now. You have his order memorized from each early morning that he strides in through the entrance, his satchel hanging from his right shoulder as his bright honey-brown eyes scan through the menu on the wall. He always did that in spite of ordering the same thing from the first day.

Your timeline is slightly offbeat today. Your favorite costumer usually comes in on his way to work, once a day. Except that today he showed up twice. You're not complaining, you're currently trying to hide how happy you are that he appeared right on time for your lunch break.

“I want something different,” he says, adjusting his glasses as he looks at you with a timid smile. “Surprise me?”

“Oh.” You quickly recovered — did you? — from the spell he had you in and moved to prepare his drink. “I'll definitely surprise you, boy genius.” You already had one in mind. Your boss shots you a glare from the other side of the counter where he's delivering an order for a regular. He had reminded you of your lunch break an hour ago but you ended up attending clients and time passed by. You mouthed that it was your last one before lunch and he rolled his eyes with a knowing smile.

You take Spencer to a table outside. The day was good enough to not worry about a storm interrupting your afternoon coffee. Not yet, at least.

“So.” You utter after taking a bite of your sandwich. Spencer is sipping on the surprise he asked for and you are no profiler but your guess is that he liked it. “Aproved?”

“One hundred percent approved. What is this?” He makes a sound of satisfaction as he drinks it again. A smug grin reaches your face. “It's so good.”

You hum, “It is. From how much you like your sweets, I thought you'd like this one. Though, it barely tastes like coffee.”

Spencer silently agrees with you. “What's it called? I can taste caramel.”

“It's a caramel macchiato,” you reply, sipping your watermelon juice. “Caramel is all you can taste, boy genius.” You laugh at the way his cheeks turn pink at your nickname. Ever since he told you about his PhD's and his age. “To what do I own the pleasure of seeing you twice in a day?”

He takes his time putting the cup on the table, fingertips grazing the sides in half circles. When he meet your gaze, you were already staring, but you have the decency to look away, feeling your cheeks heat up. Thank god you were done eating or else you'd be blushing and attempting to swallow your food. Not a good view.

“Um, I... I didn't have a case today and I finished paperwork early so I thought I'd come, um.” He stammers, straightening his posture and exhaling. The middle of his forehead creased a bit and you find it incredibly endearing seeing him trying to figure out the words.

“...you were craving caffeine so you came to the best place near your work?” you complete his sentence with a playfully smirk dancing across your lips.

“Yes!” Spencer exclaims, clearing his throat realising his voice had failed. He offers you a sheepish smile, to which you respond with a grin of your own. “Yes, and... well.”

“It's okay,” you tap your fingers against the hard wood. “You can admit that I make the best coffee.” The convinced stance you had made him chuckle, eyes traveling over your frame discreetly. He could only hope he was being discreet.

“I wanted to see you.” He admits. “And for the coffee, of course.”

Sometimes you had the impression that he did know the effect he had on you, either that or he just didn't want to see it.

“Of course.” You nod as if it was obvious. “Sure.” He wanted to see me? Me?

He pulls his glasses up again, brushing a strand of hair behind his ear. He was about to say something when he jumped on his seat, groaning as he pulled his phone out of his pocket.

“I have to go,” he says, disappointment lacing through his tone. You brush off his apologetic expression.

“That's completely understandable. Duty calls.” Both of you stand up. You still had half an hour left of your lunch, you guess you would have to resort to play your mobile game instead of flirting with a handsome FBI agent. “I'll see you tomorrow?”

“Hopefully,” Spencer picks up his work bag and the coffee cup you thought he had already finished. The corners of his lips raise a bit when he catches the boy genius written in a messy handwriting on the cup. “It's not a local case...”

“Oh,” you try to hide your lack of joy. “Alright. Be careful then.” Spencer nods, giving you a tight-lipped smile. “And don't betray me for another barista, boy genius.” That got you one of his short laughs that made his eyes crinkle in the edges.

“Never.”

──────────────

Spencer was back three days later. The case was a hard one, one of those were the unsub decided to not make their lives easier and kept moving across state lines to hide. He was keeping a victim hostage in the trunk of his car and thankfully, they were able to save her in time. Everybody was granted a day-off to get some rest.

It's not like Spencer was married to his work, in fact, he could enjoy a little alone time in the comfort of his home with a book and some coffee to accompany his quiet reading.

But that's the problem.

Routines are hard to create and they are hard to let go of. Ever heard the saying “old habits die hard”?

Ivan Pavlov researched about classical conditioning. According to him, you have a stimulus and a response in a given situation. It is likely that you'll keep repeating an action if it proves to be beneficial to you. If you like doing it, you'll barely notice it became an habit.

He's been visiting your coffee shop almost every day for the past weeks and that is an habit he's gotten quite comfortable with.

Therefore, in order to not disturb his routine that is very very important to him — honestly? Spencer can't handle changes — he drives down to Enchanted Brewing. The soft jingle of the bell alerted of his entrance.

Spencer gets in line. There's seven people in front of him, maybe because it's lunch hour and all of them are rushing to get their orders. Spencer waits. He still hasn't heard any flirting remarks or winks sent his way and he's not sure if you are not behind the counter today or if his lenses are just really blurried that he can't see your pretty face.

“Afternoon, sir. What would you like to order today?”

You are definitely not behind the counter and he's slightly confused before listing off his order. The clerk notes it down, then he stops midway, studying Spencer with narrowed eyes.

“You're boy genius?”

Spencer blinks, startled. He opens and closes his mouth like a fish and really, what is that question? How is he even supposed to answer that? You call him that, so is that a yes? Is he supposed to say yes—

“Sorry,” the guy says, shaking his head with a laugh, “they told me about you.”

“Oh.” Spencer doesn't know what to say, thankfully, he doesn't have to because he carries on.

“You two have kind of a system going on, right?”

“A- a system?”

The clerk's polite smile widened into a smirk. “Well, yes.” He says slowly. “You order the same thing and they make you an entire difference drink, isn't that it? They explained it and that's how I got it.”

“Uh, yes. I think so. But you don't have to—”

Your coworker waves him off, “I was just making sure you were the guy, really. They left a special order for you in case you appeared while they were still sick.” Spencer's concern is visible through his face. “Sore throat, I asked them to stay at home this week. You know, they don't care about day-offs so I forced it upon them to have it either way since they're sick. Really stubborn, that one. I'm Tim, by the way."

“Spencer.” He gave a little wave while introducing himself and was quick to add. “Are they okay?”

Tim turned to look at him in the middle of the beverage making. He nodded. “Yes, they'll be back in a day or two. Nothing serious.”

Spencer lets out a sigh in relief, leaning against the counter to wait for this order to be ready. He hopes you get better soon and that you were taking proper care of yourself. If he knew, he would have brought some jell-o and mint tea, they are great remedies to soothe a sore throat. After he paid for his surprise drink, he sat down on a table outside, there wasn't a lot of people and he enjoyed his alone time while mindlessly scrolling through his phone.

Maybe if he had gotten your number, he could ask how you were. But he didn't because Spencer doesn't think. He doesn't have game as Derek says, whatever that means. It's not his fault that he can't think straight around pretty people, is it? He can't help it!

He left the café that day with another great drink to add to his list and his mind set on one thing: he's going to ask for your phone number next time he sees you.

──────────────

Every person in the whole freaking world decided to appear at Enchanted Brewing today. Nothing wrong with people. You love people, really!

But your back is aching and your hand is cramping from how much you used the hand mixer. God, you needed to lay down for a month and wake up maybe never.

A costumer just left and you finally turn the sign to closed. Thank god. You're finishing cleaning up the tables when you notice the silence. Being around people all day long can be a little exhausting, especially if you have to yell a name in order for someone to pick their order. Your recently recovered sore throat does not appreciate that.

You're alone tonight. Tim left early to run some errands and you're in charge of closing. You don't mind, it's actually peaceful to close the shop and make your way home. You don't live far and the streets aren't too busy nor totally empty.

Boy genius didn't show up again.

You know his job is demanding, he's occupied being a hero and using his brain to solve difficult cases and catch bad guys. You feel bad complaining about your work, knowing what he does. He must get exhausted daily.

You miss him. And it's weird, you're not one to get attached easily. To be able to call Tim your friend took about half a year, you just don't trust people fast. Spencer just feels different. He makes you feel comfortable, despite not having the experience of hanging out with him outside of your work, he's that kind of person that has a safe ambience all over him. You could be wrong, you're aware of that, you don't really know the guy. He's a regular, he loves your surprise coffees, he's got a cute smile and an awkwardness that is endearing. You don't know more than that, but you'd really like to.

After placing your uniform in your assigned locker, you check one more time to see if everything is in place before leaving.

The doorbell scares the shit out of you and you grab the first thing you see to defend yourself, which is your phone.

It's closed. You turned the sign. The lights are off. Who the fuck is entering a coffee shop when all of the lights are off?!

“Uh, what... Why are you threatening to throw your phone at me?”

And there it is, the man you cannot stop thinking about materialising in front of you. Not a burglar.

Your shoulders slump in relief and you lower your phone back to the counter. “Fuck, genius. Don't do that. Why do you always ignore the closed sign?”

“Sorry,” he responded, bashfully, realising how the situation came out. “I saw you were inside and I just came in, didn't thought it through.”

“Mm. You scared the shit out of me.” A soft smile formed on your lips and it soon became a wide grin. “God, you're so...”

“Annoying?” he offers, grimacing as he buries his hand on his overcoat. Both his cheeks and the tip of his nose are pink, reminding you of how cold it is outside. “Sorry, I'll just— I'll leave you be.” The regret on his features is what puts you out of your dazed stare.

You sprint over to the door, blocking his exit. “I didn't say that.” You let out with bated breath. He halts right in front of you, big doe eyes staring down at you in surprise and you're beaming at him again. “You could never be annoying, boy genius. I was about to say amazing, actually.”

Morgan and Penelope are two people that keep making his life miserable by the amount of nicknames they make up for him. But this one? This one he doesn't complain at all. Boy genius. You could call him that every day and he would never dare be annoyed by it. The reason is because he loves your voice — which he realised it's a bit hoarse right now — but that's besides the point.

That is a nickname he missed dearly.

Were they about to call me amazing?

“I have a confession to make.” Emily is one hundred percent right when she said his IQ is slashed to 60 while around pretty people, because now that he's seen you he can't seem to remember what he came here for. “I betrayed you.”

You raise a brow, surveying him with amusement. “Oh?”

“Yes. I, I ordered a caramel macchiato on a cafeteria in Fairbanks.” He elaborated, lifting his hand to brush his hair behind his ear. You wanted to find out if it was as soft as it looked. “It wasn't good. I don't know, it wasn't the way you made so I didn't— I didn't though it was good.”

Your chest swells for a reason you're not sure.

“What I'm trying to say is that... Your coffee is better. No. It's not actually that—”

“Breathe. You're turning red like a tomato.”

That made him impossibly redder. He pushed his glasses up his nose, swallowing hard.

“Spencer,” you say, dropping your flirty facade in fear of him combusting in front of you. You nudge your finger against his hand, timidly. “I won't bite. You can talk to me.”

“Okay.” He croaks out, playing with your fingertips. And without looking directly at you, he lets out a sigh to muster some courage and says, “I like you.” He manages to say, pretending as if the way you said his name didn't affect him that much. You're smiling at him and suddenly he's fourteen again with butterflies in his stomach because his first crush just greeted him in class.

“I like you too,” you confess in a whisper. You're too close yet so far.

Spencer shakes his head, lifting his gaze to yours since he was staring at your hands. “Not like that. Not in a I like-your-coffee-and-your-flirting kind of way.”

You fear you're misunderstanding him and you don't want to make a fool out of yourself, so you remain quiet, getting lost in the twinkle in his brown eyes provided by the street lamp outside.

“I like you in a... I-want-to-spend-more-time-with-you way.” Finally, he says it. Could he have explained it better? Yes. Is he able to do it? Not with you looking at him like that. “I-Mm, I mean, I love your company and spending time here but I would like to take you on a date.” You were supposed to ask for her number first! What are you doing, you idiot?! “If you want to, of course.”

You can't hold back the giant grin taking over your features. “Boy genius,” you drawl out, doing what you've been fantasizing from the first moment you've seen him: touch his hair. You pull a stubborn strand behind his ear and from the way he almost flutters his eyes shut and leans into your touch, you assume he likes it. “When I said that I liked you, I didn't mean as a favourite-cute-costumer-of-the-month kind of way. But in an I-think-he's-cute way.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” You laugh. “Spencer, I would love to go on a date with you. Preferably, somewhere where we don't drink coffee.”

The crinkles around his eyes show up as he chuckles, nodding. “Okay, yeah, we can definitely do that.”

“Cool.” And you can't stop smiling like an idiot.

Spencer not only got the number but a date with the cute barista. He'd say that's very cool.

[concreteburialplot]

Wallflower 🌸 // 03

03 - Deflowering

Pairing: Sam Kiszka x F!Reader [Wallflower]

Masterlist: here | Crossposted: ao3 | Playlist: here | Word Count: 9.3k

Summary; After your hangout with Sam at The Arcade turns into something more, you find yourself vulnerable with him in a way you’ve never been fully comfortable with before. When you explain your lack of experience, he takes it upon himself to teach you with patience and care.

Warnings; tooth-rotting sweetness, petnames, alcohol, demisexuality !!!!, loss of virginity (kinda), oral (f & m receiving), unprotected, grinding? riding?, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, squirting, gentlemanly sammy, shower, aftercare !!, unrealistic college experiences lol, 18+ MDNI

A/N; thank you so much to anyone who read parts 1 & 2, it makes me so happy to know it was enjoyed so much 🩷

Disclaimer: this is a work of fiction and does not reflect any members of the band or their real lives/actions/etc. - i hope you like it 💞🌸

vibes this chapter; wish on an eyelash - mallrat the alchemy - taylor swift touch tank - quinnie can’t help falling in love - kacey musgraves

The next day snailed by incredibly slow. Something about it felt different but you couldn’t place why. You had raided your entire half of the closet trying to find an outfit worth wearing to an arcade. As much as you wanted to wear a short little sundress, you figured it was best to opt for high-waisted shorts and a light blue baby tee. 

Sitting on your folded legs in front of the mirror, you analyzed your reflection. The weight of insecurity yanked you back down to earth from the fluffy cloud you’d been sitting on since yesterday. The dullness of your skin and your tired eyes seemed to scream at you, chants of inadequacy. Of course Sam wouldn’t be interested in you like that, if he was why wouldn’t he have invited you to the event himself instead of Jake, or better yet, asked you on a solo date. He was easily the most beautiful boy on campus and looking at yourself then, you couldn’t imagine him looking twice at you.

This is it, you told yourself. 

No matter how much your brain wanted to hold you back, something in you pushed you forward. 

One full go, you thought, go all out to impress him and if that’s not enough then you knew it’d be time to squash the infatuation for good. 

You pulled out your larger makeup bag that held the rest of your cosmetics outside of your essentials, the one you only took out for special occasions. Along with your makeup you pulled out your favorite hair tool.

You took your time, making every mark on your face with meticulous precision to accentuate your features perfectly - not too much and not too little. That attention to detail carried on to your hair as well, crafting it to the hair that made you feel the most put together, most beautiful. Finishing off the entire look with some lip oil, you looked stunning and definitely the best he’d ever seen you. Before leaving the dorm, you made sure to spray yourself down with your favorite perfume, making sure to hit all the pulse points. 

When you arrived at The Arcade, the flashing lights and bustling crowd made it impossible to spot Sam or the rest of the boys right away. You scanned the sea of avid players, feeling slightly out of place as you stood there, searching through the chaos. After a few moments of awkwardly lingering, you heard your name being called from somewhere in the distance. You followed the sound, weaving through the crowd, until you spotted Sam waving you over with a wide grin.

As you approached, his expression shifted. His eyes widened, blinking as he took you in, his gaze sweeping over you in a way that was anything but subtle.

“You look so... nice,” he said, practically breathless, the words coming out on an exhale, almost as if he hadn’t meant to say them out loud. What you didn’t realize was how his nerves had begun to settle in, creeping through him with every step you took. There wasn’t much that rattled Sam, but somehow, in the time you’d known each other, you had become one of the few things that did.

Peach rose to your cheeks at the compliment. You took in his own appearance, his outfit was simple with plain jeans and the same rusty shirt you’d returned to him. As always, he made you nervous as well with his face perfectly sculpted and tan, and his hair voluminous and wavy. You were jealous at how effortlessly beautiful he was. “So do you.” You replied politely.

He smiled a toothy grin at the compliment, and you could’ve sworn you saw a flush on his cheeks as well. 

“So…where is everyone?” You asked, noticing that he was alone, and this was supposed to be a group event. 

“Oh,” He looked all around behind him at the bustling arcade. “The rest of them brought dates so, they’re kinda scattered.”

You had to keep your eyes from widening. 

Did that mean you were his date all along and you had no idea?

“Let’s get drinks first!” He suggested cheerily. Sam had already had a beer to calm his nerves before you arrived, but he’d never tell you that. He guided you over to the neon bar with a gentle hand on your lower back. The warmth of his palm was enough to make you dizzy, feeling the heat radiate into your hips. Once at the counter, you recognized the bartender, it was Sam’s food delivery friend from the other morning. It seemed that Sam had friends and connections everywhere.

“What’ll be Samuel, another beer?” The tan boy asked as he was shaking a metal container full of a beverage for another patron. 

Sam quickly diverted the conversation before you could focus on the implication of his pregame beer, “I’ll take an Ale and,” He pivoted to you with a hand waiting for your answer. 

“I’ll have a White Claw.” You replied, not wanting to carry around an open glass or be too complicated. 

He shifted back towards the bartender with a cheeky smile, “And a White Claw for the lady.” 

You leaned against the counter, letting your eyes scan your lively surroundings. The arcade buzzed with chaotic energy, lights flashing in every direction and the air thick with a mix of laughter, competitive shouts, and the relentless dinging of machines. The place was packed — drunk college students crowded around the neon-lit games, hollering at their wins and groaning at their losses, creating a cacophony that was almost as overwhelming as it was fun. It was so packed that you still hadn’t even caught a glimpse of the other three boys. 

Thankfully though, since it was an adult arcade there were no children running about. But a room full of drunk college kids wasn’t much quieter or less chaotic. Their energy was contagious, but also a little suffocating. You scratched your arm, feeling the overstimulation prickle at your skin, trying to ground yourself in something other than the barrage of noise. The clatter of skee-ball, the rapid-fire clicks of buttons, and the constant beeping and flashing lights seemed to swirl around you. Just as you took a deep breath, Sam’s hand tenderly found your arm, giving it a little squeeze causing the tense energy in your chest to calm just a bit. It was a tiny gesture, but it was soothing, like ice on a swelling injury.

“You okay?” His brows furrowed up in concern and you were a bit self-conscious that he could notice your discomfort so easily. 

You plastered a smile across your lips and nodded, “Yeah, yeah. It’s just a little loud.” You didn’t want to worry him, you knew that once you both were playing something and the alcohol entered your system that you’d relax.

He grinned softly, “Let me know if it gets too much, okay?” 

“Will do.” You nodded but wanted to move off the subject as soon as possible, not wanting to make it into a bigger deal than it was. 

He handed you your beverage and brought his own bottle to clink against your can.  “C’mon I already loaded the token card.” He gestured towards the games and walked towards the entrance, looking over the room as if it was full of opportunities. “What’re ya feelin’?” 

“Oh, I don’t know.” You shrugged, suddenly overwhelmed at all the options. So, you defaulted to a classic. “Air hockey?” 

A mischievous grin curled at the edges of his lips, “Oh you are so on.”

You giggled as you trailed behind him towards the blue and white table, “You’re right because I’m a fucking pro at air hockey.” 

“Oh, we’ll see about that.” He took his spot with the red paddle, leaving you with the blue one on the opposite side. “Ready?” 

“Fuck yeah.” You spread your legs into a competitive stance. 

Sam slid the card through the slot with a smirk, eyes glinting with playful competitiveness, then the machine lit up with a cheerful jingle as the air hockey table whirred to life. Pucks rattled onto the surface, and you were quick to grab your flat, blue paddle, feeling the cool rush of air from the table against your hands as you slid into position.

With an almost effortless swipe, you sent a puck spiraling into Sam’s goal. Another shot followed right after, zipping across the table like lightning. A playful grin crept onto your face as you dodged another puck and sent it straight into the slot.

Sam, meanwhile, was determined. His brown hair fell into his eyes, but with a swift motion, he tucked it behind his ear, never breaking focus. His tongue peeked between his lips as he squinted with laser-sharp concentration, brows furrowed and eyes flicking back and forth as he tracked every puck that dared to cross into his zone. It was hard not to laugh at how intensely he was taking the game—and yet, it made him look even more attractive, a balance of beautiful and utterly adorable. You could tell there was nothing more in his head right then than winning, even though he wasn’t. You contemplated letting him win to boost his ego but your competitive streak wouldn’t relent. 

With one last clank into the goal, your scores blinked on the archway above the table: 280 | 420

“What the hell, you must’ve cheated or something.” He huffed.

“I think this might be a long night for you, Kiszka.” You teased.

“We’ll see about that.” He retorted confidently, squaring his shoulders.

From Mario Cart to coin pushers to Wheel of Fortune and claw machines, your winning streak would not quit. The only game he had had any luck in was a rhythm based game where you had to hit specific panels in time with the beat. He soon caught onto the fact that he easily won those so he had dragged you to every single music-centered game. 

“7 Tokens left.” He informed.

“Hmmm.” You scanned over the floor, before you could suggest anything he let out a small, excited, “Oh!”

You look up at him with a tilted head.

He pointed to the back left corner. “Photobooth, let’s go!”

You grinned wide at his suggestion and the pure excitement in his voice, but it quickly fell as he ran towards the booth. You stood there frozen, unexpectedly flooded with the nervousness of being so close to him in such a cramped space. 

However, a wave of pride washed over you when you remembered how perfect you made yourself look that night. If Sam was gonna have a picture of you forever, you’d make sure it was a good one. 

With newly reinvigorated confidence you made your way over to Sam with your head held high. “Well, get in, let's go.” 

“Okay, okay, miss bossy.” He raised his hands up in defense before swiping the token card. He used his hand to pull the curtain door aside and slid into the bench. 

When you joined him inside the pod-shaped booth you realized it was most definitely meant to be for children from how small the bench was, with Sam taking up most of the real estate. 

“Oh.” You said softly, feeling out of place and a tad sad that it wasn’t something you both could do together anymore. 

“It’s okay.” He gestured towards himself with a swift hand. “Just sit on my lap.” 

Your eyes rounded slightly in surprise, but you nodded, a bit unsure. As you took a tentative step toward him, your foot caught the step up, and before you knew it, you stumbled, falling right into his lap. A soft gasp escaped your lips as you landed, your heart racing from the sudden movement.

Before you could even process what had happened, his arms were around you, steadying you in place. His hold was firm yet comforting, and he let out a soft chuckle. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you.”

Warmth spread across your skin beginning from your cheeks, it was a simple phrase but one that made you weak in the knees. “Thanks.” You breathed out with a humiliated smile. 

He kept one hand securely clasped around your hip while the other fumbled with the photobooth controls. “Alright, we got 20 seconds.” He said, his voice tinged with playful urgency. 

“Okay!” You giggled, sitting up as much as you could and ready to strike the silly pose the screen was prompting. 

“Oh, wait!” He interrupted and goosebumps spread across your body when you felt his hand cradle your cheek, pressing his thumb into your cheekbone. “You’ve got an eyelash.” Seamlessly, he slid his hand down your face so that his fingertips held your chin while his thumb presented itself in front of your lips. “Make a wish.” And when you didn’t immediately follow his direction, he clarified your confusion, “It’s good luck!” 

You glanced down at the eyelash, then met his eyes—deep brown and earnest. The air between you was thick with anticipation, your breath mingling in the small, dimly lit space. You blew a gentle puff of air, sending the eyelash tumbling away, but Sam’s gaze remained locked on yours. The moment felt like it stretched on for far longer than it did.

Suddenly, you were extremely aware of his closeness and the hand that never left your cheek. His eyes darted to your lips, and you felt a palpable shift in the air. The playful tension melted into something more profound, more urgent. Your heart was frantic in your chest and your breath was held in the back of your throat. With every passing second, the space between you seemed to shrink until it felt almost unbearable. You could feel his breath warm against your skin, his touch tender yet electric.

Sam’s gaze returned to yours, searching, and you could no longer ignore the pull between you. Without another word, Sam leaned in, and your heart raced as he closed the distance. His lips met yours in a soft, tentative kiss, your eyes fluttering closed at the soft pillow-y feeling of his lips. The photobooth camera flashed, capturing the perfect moment in a burst of color and light. The world outside ceased to exist as you melted into the kiss, feeling the soft press of his lips and the thrill of something new and undeniable.

You both melted into the kiss, your lips moving together with a tender intensity that felt exhilarating. You shifted in his lap for easier access to his lips without parting from him. Your hands found the sides of his face, holding him there so gentle yet firm. He kept one hand on your cheek and the other on your hip anchoring you in place. The photobooth captured each frame, preserving the sweet, stolen moments for eternity. When the flashing finished, you finally pulled back, breathless and wide-eyed. 

His pupil-blown eyes bounced between yours, seemingly searching for something - perhaps some sign that you enjoyed it, even though it was quite obvious you did. When neither of you said anything, he spoke up first. “I’ve wanted to do that for so long.” He breathed out. 

“You have?” You whispered back, still in disbelief. 

He chuckled, “Yeah, silly. Was it not obvious?” 

A blush grew on your cheeks. “Maybe. Maybe I’m just oblivious.” 

“I think so, Wallflower.” He smiled and used his hand still on your cheek to smoothly pull you into another kiss. It was soft yet sparking, full of tension suppressed from the past couple weeks. It was nice to finally have him in the way you’d been daydreaming about for so long. When he pulled away, his eyes were filled with both adoration and need. His skin was tingling with excitement every place your bodies touched, and he desired more of you. “You wanna get out of here?” 

You nodded quickly, full of the exact same need and tension. “Take me home, Sam.” You expelled on a breath.

After collecting the photo strips that preserved the sweetness of your first kiss together, you both snuck out of The Arcade without a single goodbye to anyone. 

The trek home was drunk, giddy and affectionate, new love now sparked fully and openly between you both. It was still so new that all the touches were charged but reserved. It was like driving a new car, so excited to take it for all it's got but wanting to preserve the shiny newness. Your hands entwined together, giggling, leaning back and forth on each other just to feel the others’ warmth. 

Once inside the elevator heading to your floor, the playfulness didn’t end. His arms wrapped around you from behind, getting you used to the feeling of his lips on your cheek. It was around floor 2 that a mischievous grin spread across Sam’s lips, his hands slowly headed for your midsection and quickly attacked. You let out a squeal at  the sudden tickling, not expecting at all. “Ah!” You got out between giggles, “Sammy!” 

He just laughed victoriously as you squirmed in his grasp, counting down the seconds til the elevator doors opened for the 3rd floor. 

The second those metal doors slid open you took off like a gazelle trying to escape a predator. “Stay away from me!” You called down the hall without care for the sleeping students residing behind the walls.

“I’m faster than you!” He said, quickly catching up to you. 

You ran to the end of the hallway and realized you had nowhere else to go. His door was closest to you and so you scrambled trying to open it in hopes that he’d forgotten to lock it. Unfortunately for you, he hadn’t.

“Ha, I gotcha!” He announced, his fingers finding their way to your middle again causing you to nearly double over in uncontrollable laughter. When he realized you were wriggling around enough to escape, he grasped your waist and lifted you up. You instinctively wrapped your legs and arms around him for stability. 

As you slid down into where his hands supported you at his hips, the giggles that filled the air dissipated. You both took one look at each other before your lips met feverishly. It was the first heated kiss you shared together, and it had lightning striking all over your body.

His soft lips that you only just learned the feeling of, pressed hard against your own. You mutually opened your mouths and allowed each other in. He tasted like beer and cigarettes in the best possible way. You wished you could bottle up the scent, taste and feeling of him.

He pressed you against the door as he hurriedly searched his pockets for his dormkey. As he worked, your hands buried themselves into his hair trying to see how much you could distract him. By some miracle he got the door open, took one single loop around just to press you against the other side of the door. 

Your tongues danced together, neither one fighting for dominance but desperately needing the other. He pulled away just to drop his head into your neck and had your eyes widening when you felt his lips meet your pulse point. 

“Sam.” You breathed out, your legs still wrapped around him tugging his hips tighter against your core. Your eyes fluttered closed at the feeling of him sucking at your skin. The tingling feeling beneath his lips felt like it dropped directly to your center, blooming a buzzing need there. Your fingers gripped into the roots of his hair as you let out a moan you disguised as a sigh when his teeth lightly dug into your flesh. 

His hands slid up your thighs, giving them a strong squeeze as he pressed himself further against you, letting you feel how mutual the energy was. He let out a little frustrated groan against your neck before pulling you off the door and carrying you to his bed. He didn’t let you fall but carefully set you down, his mouth never leaving your neck. If there was one thing for certain, it was that there would be evidence of this night tomorrow. 

He began moving his kisses down, “I need to taste you.” He mumbled and you froze at the implication. He seemed to pick up on it and stopped, looking up at you curiously through thick brown lashes. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked lifting his head up to eye level with you. 

“I um,” You began but fell short. 

“We don’t have to do that if you don’t want to.” He reassured quickly, feeling a bit guilty for jumping the gun.

“It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s just…” You trailed off hoping he’d put it together, but he anxiously awaited your words. “I’ve never… done… that.” You finally explained with an embarrassed grimace and when the look of realization hit his features you covered your face with your hands. You wanted to roll over and die in humiliation. 

“Oh.” He replied simply, obviously not thinking this was going to be part of the journey. But just because he wasn’t expecting it to be part of the experience, didn’t make him any less excited, just more concerned about your comfort. 

“I know, it’s so embarrassing!” You squeaked beneath your hands. This was the last thing you expected happening tonight and you were nowhere near ready to explain that you’d only done some of the basics and none of them were ever pleasant for you. You’d get to a certain point with a couple boys but couldn’t do anything more than fingers and handjobs. You always fell short for one reason or another, for a while you thought you might’ve even been asexual, but you were definitely not questioning that label now. You never had real feelings for the other boys, but you did for Sam, and maybe that was the difference. 

“Hey,” He said, cupping your hands with his own, pulling them apart gently. “It’s okay. It’s not embarrassing.” He reassured and you wouldn’t have believed him if it hadn’t been for that loving smile of his. “If you want, we can stop now. If you wanna continue, then I can show you how good things can feel. Okay?” 

You nodded, “I wanna continue.” You replied quicker than you intended and blushed at the smirk it brought him. 

“Okay then,” He smiled and leaned down to kiss you again. “How about we do like…” He thought for a second, “Colors? Like red, yellow, green? So that you can tell me if you need me to slow down or stop?” 

You didn’t expect a boy to be so accommodating or understanding, you were flooded with the comforting feeling of being cared for. “Okay.” You nodded down at him as he continued his original path. 

His hands snaked down your sides lingering at the hem of your tee. “Shirt?” 

You mulled it over in your head, the bra you chose was nice and had some lace, so you nodded. “Green.” 

He smiled and helped you slip out of it. He took a moment to admire you, “God you’re beautiful.” His head dipped back into the crook of your neck, placing a kiss below your ear. “I can’t wait to make you feel as good as you look.” 

Blood rushed to your cheeks at his comment and sent a flurry of butterflies between your legs. He placed slow open-mouth kisses down your neck, across your collar bones and then where the bra left your breasts exposed. You’d never been kissed there, and it felt foreign but nice. His sizable hands slithered underneath you, running his fingers across the band of your bra. “Color?” 

You hummed, not fully confident yet to commit. “Um, yellow? You can undo it but not take it off…just yet.” 

He smirked against your skin, “You got it, Baby.” 

Your heart swelled at the nickname, it was the first one he’d given you romantically. You loved the sound of it coming out of his mouth. 

He continued leaving kisses down your bare stomach until he finally reached your shorts. “Col-”

“Green!” You nearly spat out and covered your mouth with bright red cheeks. The wetness pooling between your legs was becoming all you could think about. Any time he’d suck and swirl his tongue on your skin all you could imagine was what it would feel like on the most intimate part of you. 

He chuckled at the urgency in your response. “Okay then.” 

In one swift pull of your shorts, you were left with just a thin piece of cotton protecting you from complete vulnerability. 

He kneeled down between your legs. “Oh wow.” He pressed a kiss to your inner thigh, his eyes locked on your covered center like he was hypnotized. What you didn’t realize was that your white panties would show just how excited you were. Two of his fingers trailed up your inner thigh until just before your core. “Color?” He asked, his voice sounding almost drunk at the sight of you. 

“Yellow.” You wanted to say green, but your nerves stopped you. “Like, green, but slow.” 

He nodded, completely entranced with you as he slowly pulled your panties down, baring you completely. You felt so vulnerable and exposed that you snatched a pillow from beside you to cover your face.

You stiffened the second you felt his touch on the lip of your pussy - it was an odd feeling, being so excited yet so incredibly nervous. 

He took his time exploring you gently, just to get you accustomed with his touch before actually doing anything. He was doing such a good job at making you feel comfortable that it was taking a little too long for you. You moved the pillow enough to peek down at him, “Green, green.” You informed, urgently.

He grinned, finding it endearing. And with that he let himself give into you completely. He pressed a kiss just above where you began before pressing his tongue gently into your clit. You were so worked up that that alone made your mouth make an “O” shape. “Oh my god.” You breathed out slowly. The feeling only worsened when you felt him smirk against where he just licked. 

“Oh, baby that’s nothing.” He said quietly before licking at your nub again. “Fuck you’re so wet and I’ve barely touched you.” 

He decided it was enough teasing and finally dove into you fully. His tongue worked diligently in slow but tight circles with an occasional vertical motion. You had long foregone the pillow by then, choosing to watch him devour you instead. 

He pulled away for just one second to say, “God, you taste like fucking heaven.” before diving right back in. 

You were convinced his tongue contained some sort of magic from how good it was making you feel. With each turn of his tongue, it sent waves of buzzing euphoria along with it. You never knew you could feel those sensations, nothing you’d done with anyone else ever felt that good. But Sam was attentive and really fucking talented at what he was doing.

Abruptly, you felt a tight knot forming in your stomach. “Oh, oh, I, I think, I-” You began but felt short of words, trying to hold on for dear life.

“Just let it happen, Baby, it’ll feel so good I promise.” He said quickly before returning to work you towards your peak. 

Not long afterwards you followed his instructions, or rather, he forced you to when his tongue began making 8’s on your swollen bud, you were done for. 

As cliche as it was, you felt like an exploding firework. Electricity sparked across your body, washing every bit of you in blinding pleasure. It stole all the air from your lungs and words from your mouth. In that moment you were useless to the world, lost in the utter bliss he’d given you. 

His tapering pace brought you slowly back down to earth. You hadn’t realized that your fingers were clamped in his hair until he stopped. 

He licked one last fat stripe up your entrance trying to get every last bit of you on his tongue. Your eyes were glued to the ceiling, too nervous and too shy to look down at him. Though, it seemed he wasn’t allowing that to happen. He lovingly stamped open mouth kisses up your body from your center to meet your face. As if he could sense the anxiety swirling in your body, he took your cheek in one palm while the other kept him propped up. “You were perfect.” He whispered.

You blinked up at him, wondering if that was even possible. You’d argue if your head wasn’t still fuzzy and floating in the clouds. 

He chuckled fondly at your blank response, “Did that feel good, Flower?”

You just hummed and nodded against his hand. “Good…so good.” You mumbled into his palm before giving it an exhausted kiss. 

He smiled that radiant smile of his and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “You tasted amazing.” He whispered against your skin. “I could eat you all day.”

You scrunched your nose up at the thought, not believing anyone would find it enjoyable to eat someone out for that long. But the thought soon shifted into experimental curiosity, surely, he couldn’t do that… could he? Could you? How would you endure that for so long… how many orgasms could you possibly have?

Even the mere idea of another orgasm like the one you just had, had your head spinning. In that moment you realized it could be dangerous, sleeping with Sam, because you’d never had a high like that – and just like a brand-new addict, you wanted more.

He moved to lay down next to you, he laid flat on his back but with his head turned to you, which you mirrored. “Was that okay? Are you okay?” 

You nodded enthusiastically, “Yes. Yes.” 

The edges of his mouth curled up, “Good.”

All of a sudden, you furrowed your brows at him while he tilted his head, silently questioning your confusion. 

“Well, what are you doing? It’s your turn.” You stated as if was obvious. 

He laughed fondly at your innocence, “It’s okay babe. I told you we could take it slow.” 

“No, no.” You shook your head vehemently as you peeled yourself from the mattress to straddle him before he could stop you. 

His head tilted off the bed to look at you with wide eyes. He had taken you in while you were laying down, but now you were almost fully nude sitting on him. 

“I wanna learn.” You answered his wordless question simply. Your hands raked down his clothed body until they reached the button of his jeans. 

He cleared his throat, shifting below you, already feeling him hardening beneath your bare cunt. “What?” 

“I want to learn.” You repeated, slowly sliding the metal button through the slot before tugging down the zipper. 

Your nervousness had taken a backseat, the absolute euphoria he gave you had empowered you. You wanted to return the favor, you wanted to be the one to make him feel like that too. And the pulse that returned to your pussy begged you to go all the way. You trusted him, you might even love him, what a better choice was there? 

You mimicked the actions he’d done to you, leaning down and pressing light kisses to the side of his neck. Your hands took a break from his jeans to slide beneath his rusty shirt wanting to feel him as fully as he had you. “Off.” You begged below his ear. 

When he nodded you sat back up to give him the space to tug the shirt off by the neck and toss it to the edge of the bed. You marveled down at his toned chest, running your fingers over the tan ridges. “You’re so handsome.” You said softly, almost ashamed at the rather proper compliment in such an improper setting. 

He let out an adorable chuckle at the compliment and placed his hands on your bare hips. “And you’re so beautiful. Angelic even.” He trailed up your sides to your barely-on bra. “May I?” 

You blushed and nodded, finally ready to bare yourself completely to him. You helped him peel the garment off and discarded it to the floor where the rest laid. 

“God,” He breathed out as his hands tentatively found your exposed breasts. “Could you get any more perfect?” His thumbs flicked at your nipples while he began working the flesh in his palms. 

The feeling of someone’s hands on you in general was foreign but you were quickly warming up to his touch. As he played with your breasts you worked diligently on tugging his jeans down enough to where you could grind against his covered cock. 

He was so preoccupied with you that he didn’t realize what you were doing until you were pressing your bare pussy against his straining cock in his briefs. His jaw fell slack at the shock of it. “Oh my god.” 

That’s where you learned that you loved getting that reaction from him. It only fueled you, rutting yourself back and forth on him slowly. Rather quickly you realized that you desperately needed him out of his boxers. 

You dropped to hover over his face, keeping yourself up with one arm while the other lazily played with the band of his underwear. “I want to suck your dick.” You didn’t wait for a response. “Will you teach me?” 

You didn’t know if his eyes could widen any further then felt his cock twitch against your pussy and it filled you with the most pride you’d ever felt in your life. 

“Oh- I,” He stuttered over his words and blinked blankly up at you. “Yes. Yeah. Yes.” He nodded quickly. 

“Okay.” You giggled, finding it adorable how flustered and excited he got. You were finding that sex came with a feeling of power that you quite enjoyed. 

You slinked off of him and sunk down to your knees between his legs, giving you the opportunity to pull his jeans down fully before slipping two fingers on each side of his short briefs. “Color?” You asked as a cheeky joke. 

“Green, definitely green.” His eyes watching your fingers intently.

And with that, you tugged the geometric patterned underwear down, finally letting his cock spring free. Your eyes took it in fully, following the length of his underside. It was larger than any other dick you’d partially hooked up with, the size both excited and scared you. With any other boy you had never felt comfortable enough to use your mouth, the thought of it with them always disgusted you - but Sam was making your mouth water. 

“Teach.” You asked in an impatient but naive way. 

“Lick.” He blurted out, probably wishing something more eloquent came out. “Taste.”

You followed his instruction, reaching your tongue out to meet the head of his cock. Sam pulled his lip between his teeth watching you, needing more but knowing you required time. Instinctively, you snaked your hand up to hold him at the base so you could take his tip in your mouth fully. The skin there was soft and delicate, and tasted salty of skin mixed with precum. You hummed at the flavor which sent his eyes fluttering closed. “Fuck.”

After you got a sense of him in your mouth, you took the initiative to take more of him - that got you a little groan in the back of his throat. “Fuck baby.” He adjusted beneath you slightly. “Lower.” He instructed, watching you again then went to say something but hesitated. “Use your tongue.” 

You wiggled your brows as you cautiously set your tongue out against the underside of his shaft as you went lower, taking even more of him. “Oh, yeah. Just like that.” His voice dripped in needy lust, and you couldn’t get enough of it.

When he hit the back of your throat, you didn’t expect the involuntary gag that it caused. Despite what you thought was a disgusting noise, he let out a full groan at it. “We can work on your gag reflex a different time.” He breathed out. “For now, just don’t try to push it.” 

You hummed an ‘okay’ with him entirely in your mouth then dipping your tongue out to lap at his base before moving back up and pulling off with a pop. You continued the motions you’d learned on him, looking up at him occasionally to watch his face contort in pleasure.

“Fuck.” He groaned with his brows furrowed up and his jaw slack at your bobbing movements. “I think I-“

You popped off of him to interrupt, “Sammy. I want you inside me.”

He shook his head, “No, baby, you don’t want that I promise, not like this.” He heaved out, his chest rising and falling rapidly, and his eyes half lidded down at you. “If I fuck you right now, I think I’d destroy you.” His fingers raked through your hair in admiration. “When we do, I want to take my time. And there’s no way I’d be able to hold myself back from you right now.”

Disappointment in your features was present, but you knew he was right. You didn’t want your first time to be rushed or hasty either. As you held his pulsing cock by the base an idea bloomed in your head like a lightbulb flickering on. “Okay…” You said slowly, “How about this.” 

Sam furrowed his brows at you as you brought yourself back up on your feet. “What’re you doin?” His chest rose and fell quickly as he asked. 

Your knees found each side of his hips and you carefully sunk down on his thighs behind his length. His eyes were bright and desperate like he was a kid in a candy shop wanting to taste every morsel of sugar. His focus was locked in on the proximity of your pussy to his cock and how it was taking every bit of self control to not just give in to you. Your hand gently found his cock and tenderly held it vertically against your lower tummy. The visual made you almost nervous for when you eventually do take him inside you, he was so long there was no way he’d be able to fit completely. Your thumb swiped at the precum that pooled at the tip and brought it up to your mouth. 

His eyes widened as he watched you suck his residue off of your finger. Your eyes fluttered closed at the taste, letting out a small moan. You had no idea what had come over you, just that you were being commanded by throbbing that had made home in your cunt. It was like you were possessed with the utter need for him.

“You are so fucking… fuck, I don’t even know, I don’t have a strong enough word to describe how incredibly stunning you are.” He said quietly, in complete awe of you. He felt as though he truly had an angel in his lap. His cock twitched in your stationary hand as he spoke, proof that he was so turned on by your beauty alone. 

Rose red tinted your cheeks at his words, making you feel bashful again momentarily. The flattery though, quickly turned into fuel. You carefully pressed his cock down flat on his own stomach. Your eyes met his as he watched you slide forward to have his cock slot between the wet lips of your cunt. He sucked in a harsh breath at the feeling of you enveloping him. “Fuck.” He breathed out. 

He looked so gorgeous this way, so on edge and needy and completely infatuated with you. You couldn’t take a single second of it more. You bent down, nudging his nose before rejoining his lips. It was difficult to keep your desperation together as you kissed him, but you wanted it to start off sweet before descending into depravity. He lifted his head to be closer to you and his hands reached up and held your cheeks as he swiped at your bottom lip. He used his hold on your face to bring you down closer to him. Your tongue met his again hesitantly at first, refamiliarizing yourself with his kiss. When you began rutting your hips on him, all control left both of you. Your tongues entwined themselves feverishly while moans escaped your mouths. Grinding your cunt against him proved to be rather pleasurable for you as well as for him. Every time your sensitive clit passed the ridge of his swollen head it made you clench around nothing - all you wanted was for him to be inside you, it was all you could think about. While the action wasn’t everything you wanted, it was fulfilling your needs. 

The same knot as before began to form in your tummy but it was building faster than you could keep up with. The ache in your clit chased release faster and faster with your movements against him. You grew wetter by the second which greatly aided your speed. You pulled away just a centimeter, “Sammy,” You breathed out pathetically against his lips. “I’m close, really close.” 

He nodded quickly. “Me too.” Truth was that he’d been close for a while but had been holding on by a thread, wanting you to climax first. 

His mutual confirmation alongside with your accelerated momentum tipped you over the edge violently. Your head fell into his neck as you fucked yourself on him, letting moans pour from your mouth and into his ear. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He groaned out as he finally let go, painting his chest with his own milky release. 

The twitching and bouncing of his cock against your overly-sensitive clit threw you into an unexpected new sensation. Your stomach burned with an overpowering feeling, something between discomfort, pain and pleasure. You whimpered sharply, gripping hard at his arms, “Oh, oh!” Your nails dug into his skin as another unexpected orgasm approached, this one stronger than you’d ever experienced before. Your entire body seemed to lock up at the overpowering pleasure and then something happened that you had never encountered before - nonetheless knew you could do. You felt a bit of liquid release from you and onto him. It was a foreign but extremely pleasurable feeling combined with the extended orgasm your body was experiencing. Once you rode out your high and realized what you’d done, you stilled completely. 

“Did you just-” He began but you cut him off. 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry.” You nearly shrieked in embarrassment and sat up in his lap. “Oh my god, that’s never happened before, I-I didn’t know that was gonna happen. Oh my god your bed, oh I’m so sorry I-”

“Baby, baby, baby.” He placed his hands on your hips to ground you. “It’s okay.” He paused. “That’s never happened before?” 

You brought your thumb up to your mouth to anxiously chew on your thumbnail and shook your head. “No, never.”

He grinned proudly, which confused you because you expected him to be upset. “Did it feel good?” 

A shy smile tugged at your lips and gave him a small nod. “Very.” 

“God that’s so fucking hot.” 

Warmth littered your cheeks, “What? Really?” You asked naively. 

“Fuck yeah. I wanna make you do that again. And again.” He squeezed your hips. “Fuck, even on my face.” 

You smacked his arm gently, “Don’t be nasty!” 

“Speak for yourself angel, you’re the one that just fucked yourself on my cock.” 

“Ah!” Your post-orgasm clarity suddenly making you feel incredibly bashful over all of the atrocities you just committed. You covered your face, “I don’t know what you’re talking about!” 

He chuckled, taking your hand from your face and bringing it up to his lips to place a chaste kiss there. “Whatever you say, Flower.”

You looked at him a little confused, remembering that he’d shortened your nickname earlier too. “Flower?”

“Well, yeah, you’re not that shy around me anymore.” He teased, but you pouted. “What’s wrong? You don’t like it?”

“No, I do. I like it.” You tugged at your lip with your teeth, feeling vulnerable. “Just don’t stop using the first one too.”

His heart couldn’t have swelled any more than it did at your request. He loved that you liked your original nickname enough to not want to let it go. “You got it, Wallflower.” He placed a couple more kisses on your hand before giving your hip a pat with his other hand. “C’mon, let’s clean up.”

Sam carefully sat up and snatched the shirt he had tossed off earlier and swiped his chest clean. He set the crumbled shirt off to the side and let his fingertips trail down your arm to tenderly reach your hand. “Shower?” He suggested softly, bringing your hand to his lips again, looking up at you with large brown lovestruck eyes through thick lashes. 

You offered a tired smile and nodded, “Sounds perfect.” 

He grinned, gently easing you off of his lap and leading you over to his bathroom. You were infinitely grateful for his in-dorm shower.

He did everything for you, turned the shower on, tested the water with his palm, helped you step over the ledge, he treated you so delicately, like a princess. 

You reached up to the shower caddy for some body wash only for him to grasp your wrist. “Can I?”

You chuckled, turning around to face him, “Can you what? Wash me?” 

His smile was hesitant and almost shy, but he nodded, “Yeah. I wanna take care of you.” He stretched his arm past you to grab his own body wash and a loofah. You raised a brow at the suspicious puff, not necessarily wanting to use his personal loofah. 

“Don’t worry.” His voice was soft and low. “I got a spare, in case you wanted to shower one of the nights you escaped from your roommate.” His hand squeezed the woodsy-scented gel onto the cream-colored puff. 

“Really? You did that for me?” You asked quietly while you watched him work the blue gel into the mesh. He brought the loofah to your side first, swiping it across your middle. 

“Yeah, of course.” He whispered, moving the puff across your torso and intently watching the suds pour down your skin. 

You nudged him, “Oh that’s why you wanna do this.” You teased, rolling your eyes.

“It’s certainly a plus.” A cocky smile tugged at the edge of his lips. “But no, we did a lot, I wanna do this, I wanna make sure you feel okay.”

You wrapped your hand around his boney wrist, “I do feel okay, Sammy.” You blinked up at him before letting your gaze fall down to the tile. ��It wasn’t that much anyway. We didn’t even…” 

“Hey.” He used his free hand to tilt your chin up to meet his gaze. His dark brown eyes bounced between yours trying to read them. “We can take as much time as you need. I don’t want you to feel pressured to do that. Okay?”

Your heart filled with gratitude, thankful that the boy you happened to fall for was one who was so kind and patient - in your previous experiences, boys were anything but patient and kind. Your eyes couldn’t help but water at his compassion. 

“Oh,” He pulled his hands from you as if he was somehow hurting you. “Oh, did I do something wrong? We could get out, or-”

“No, no.” You sniffled, bringing a finger to wipe the tears pooling in your eyes even though you were beneath running water. “No, you’re just so…sweet to me.” You shrugged.

“You’re crying because I’m…sweet?” He asked, confused. He passed the loofah back and forth between his own hands anxiously. 

You chuckled, “Yeah, just,” You sighed, letting your arms fall to your sides. “My past romantic experiences haven’t ever gone well.” You admitted with a hint of sadness in your tone. “They were always pushy and always tried to force me to do things I didn’t want to do. And you just… are so sweet, and kind, and caring, and patient with me.” 

The edges of his lips downturned at your words. “I’m sorry you’ve had those experiences but,” He brought a hand to tilt your chin up to meet your eyes directly. “Me being kind to you is just the bare minimum, Y/N. It’s not worth crying over.” 

You went to argue but he stopped you. “I don’t want you crying over mediocrity, you deserve the world, Wallflower. If you let me, I’ll show you more than just kindness.” 

While his words meant to stop your crying, it only worsened it, so much so that you couldn’t help but throw your arms around his torso and bury your face in his chest. You weren’t sure what you wanted to say so all you could muster was, “Thank you.” 

“Oh, angel.” He said softly, smoothing out the back of your wet hair. “You don’t have to thank me for anything.” His heart ached at the thought of anyone being rough with you, especially rough enough to elicit this sort of reaction over sheer kindness. He couldn’t imagine having anything other than love behind any motives when it came to you. The idea of someone trying to force you to do anything or being mean to you was so unfathomable to him. It only made him want to treat you better, to prove that you were worthy of so much more. 

Your arms tightened around his middle before pulling back, feeling vulnerable. You wiped a tear away, “Maybe I’m just extra sleepy.” 

“Okay baby.” He tucked a chunk of your damp hair behind your ear and placed a kiss to your head. “Let me take care of you here so we can go to bed, does that sound good?” 

You nodded, surrendering to the tenderness in his touch as he took over washing you. His hands moved with such deliberate care; every gesture filled with quiet compassion. If you weren't so naive, you might’ve even recognized it as love, though the warmth spreading through you was undeniable.

He started with your arms, his fingers moving gently as he lathered the soap, the sensation of the suds against your skin both soothing and intimate. He worked slowly, his hands grazing over every inch with such gentleness that it made you feel cherished in a way you’d never known before. When he moved to your legs, his touch remained soft but steady, as though he were taking the time to make sure every part of you was tended to, like you were something precious.

Then came your hair. He carefully massaged the shampoo into your scalp, and the sensation was so blissfully relaxing you could feel any tension draining from your body with every stroke of his fingers. The rhythmic pressure of his fingertips kneading your scalp was enough to lull you into a state of near-sleep, your eyelids fluttering as you gave in to the calm. 

You leaned into his touch, the sound of the water running over your skin mixing with the gentle hum of his breathing. It was as if nothing else existed in that moment—just the steady, soothing motions of his hands, the warmth of his presence, and the quiet intimacy that filled the space between you.

When he was done with you he washed himself and after a while, the warm water began to cool. The faucet squeaked as he turned the knob and when the water stopped he gently guided you out of the shower. 

With a soft, sleepy sigh, you stepped out of the shower and he promptly wrapped you in a soft towel, drying you off with the same gentle care he’d shown before - slow and unhurried. You barely noticed, your limbs heavy with drowsiness, the warmth of the bath still clinging to your body. The air felt cool against your damp skin, but the comforting weight of his presence kept you from shivering. 

Too drowsy to even think about getting dressed, you barely registered as he guided you toward the bed, your legs heavy with exhaustion. You let the towel fall to the floor mindlessly b-lining to the mattress. 

You slipped beneath the soft covers, sinking into the comfort of the sheets against your bare skin as sleep tugged at your eyelids. The day’s fatigue along with everything that happened at the arcade and all that occurred in his room just moments ago was slowly pulling you into the quiet embrace of sleep. 

You curled up, naked and content, sinking deeper into the mattress as sleep tugged at the edges of your consciousness. The bed dipped gently when he slid in beside you, and without a word, he pulled the blanket over both of you, tucking it around your shoulders. You felt his warmth immediately, his body like a shield from the cool night air, and you instinctively melted into him, seeking out his newly familiar heat.

In that sleepy haze, with the soft weight of the blankets and his arms around you, a new feeling bloomed in your chest, one you couldn’t quite name. It was a feeling you hadn’t fully recognized before, a warmth so profound it went beyond mere safety. “Safe” didn’t seem to capture it, though it came close. It felt more like being cradled in a world of your own, shielded from everything outside, like sitting in your car during a storm, listening to the rain lash against the windows while you remained dry and untouched, wrapped in your own private bubble.

The sensation was so pure and overwhelming, you silently prayed you’d never have to live without it. It was a quiet plea, the kind you whisper to yourself when you realize you’ve stumbled onto something too precious to lose.

Sure, it felt like a lot to entrust to a boy you’d only known for a month, a college kid whose life was as unsteady as yours. But you found yourself trusting him in ways you hadn’t trusted anyone before. You’d already given him pieces of yourself without hesitation—your laughter, your secrets, your body— why not your heart? 

You knew it was a risk, but lying there in the quiet, with his steady breathing lulling you closer to sleep, you felt certain there was no one else you'd rather trust with it.

Sam’s arm tightened around your midsection from behind, pulling you flush against his bare body and something about it was so intimate, but not necessarily sexual. It was comfortable, vulnerable, and special. 

“Goodnight, Wallflower.” He whispered thinking you were already asleep. His lips placed a soft kiss on your shoulder, and it sealed your deal with slumber. 

“Goodnight, Sammy.” You smiled softly, letting sleep pull you under.

As you hovered on the edge of dreaming, a quiet certainty settled in your mind—if you were ever going to give yourself wholly to anyone, it would definitely be Sam. He made you feel things you’d never known before—things that filled you with warmth, comfort, and a sense of safety you'd never experienced with anyone else. Your heart swelled with a feeling too early to name, too early to speak, too early to be completely sure of. But it didn’t stop you from feeling it fully. Just because it was early didn’t mean it was any less real to you. And maybe, just maybe, one day you’d be brave enough to tell him. Until then, you held that feeling close, savoring the hope that this was only the beginning and that perhaps he felt the same way.

A/N; i am contemplating this being the ending of Wallflower? but i am conflicted, so please let me know if you’d like another part or two? 💓

Either way, i hope you enjoyed the journey so far, please let me know your thoughts/feelings/etc! 🩷🩷

Jake fic coming soon

Taglist; @measuredingold @sacredthefran @shutupdevvie @i-choose-the-road @musicislove3389 @persuasivus @broken0mens @peaceloveunitygvf @deathblacksmoke

[auspicioustidings]

Fixer Upper

Summary: Request for some fluffy established relationship PricexReaderxSoap for @bunnyreaper (pls be advised I am working through my ask box and the next one is this throuple but horny :D)

Words: 1.3k

“It's a fixer upper love!”

It was the first thing John had said to you when you had emerged from the trees and seen the cottage that was now yours and he was not lying. The place was falling apart.

“Och come on bunny, going tae have tae see the vision!”

Ah, Johnny could always read your face and right now your scepticism must be written all over it. He used bunny when he wanted to wind you up a little. The first time you and the two of them had really sat down and spoken about your relationship, turned it into something formal, he had joked you were their barracks bunny. John had laughed but smacked him upside the head for that.

“Sure thing Sergeant John, let me just get my rose tinted glasses. Now where did I put those things?”

He stuck his tongue out at you. You had your own nickname ready to wind him up. Usually you'd differentiate by calling him Johnny but if he was misbehaving then you differentiated by rank. John always liked that though, even if he did tell you in private all the time how Johnny would definitely make Captain one day and take over the 141 so he could retire and just have fat babies with you.

“Come on love, Captain John will take you through it” John laughed, scooping you up easily into his arms with Johnny rolling his eyes.

“Traitor, bonnie wee bunny bats her eyelashes and it's all Captain John this and Captain John that.”

Still, John placated him by leaning over with you still in his arms and planting a kiss to the side of his head. God you loved when they were soft and tender with one another. Even before you were all together you had loved just watching how they took care of one another. It was a solid sort of affection, the kind that had become instinct to them over conscious effort.

They both fell into an easy rhythm around one another when you crossed the threshold (twice you crossed it because Johnny had watched John carry you like a bride over it and then stolen you to do the same before you were finally put down). John would point out something to be fixed and how to fix it, Johnny would wax poetic about what it would be like when done.

It took you two rooms before you couldn't help but see it, could not resist getting drawn into their warm excitement. You joined in even, arguing with Johnny over where the Christmas tree would go, going on tip toes to give John kisses when he agreed he would teach you how to tile properly so you could help with his vision for the kitchen.

You knew them and you knew they'd want to do it all themselves, but they were away so often and it was so important that when they got home they actually had downtime. Of course they disagreed, but they had come to learn that while on the field they took care of everyone, here in the peaceful warmth of home it was you who took care of them. So they grumbled and sat down with you to go over tradespeople who you could bring in to help. You only had to smack John once when he refused someone on the basis that they had an attractive sounding name and he wasn't about to let their bunny wind up in a porn plot. Honestly it was probably the best you could have hoped for.

–

The soft glow of the lights made your cottage seem like something out of a cosy dream. It had taken time and effort and love but here you were with the perfect home all ready for the holidays.

There was a soft festive tune playing as John danced with you, holding you close with your head tucked into him. Johnny had braved the snow to walk down to the village and post your cards for the rest of their team. Well partially, mostly he was probably going in to say hi to all the old dears so they could fuss over him as always. You and John always teased him for being their favourite, but it was sweet to watch.

“I love you” you sighed against him, no reason for the words really other than knowing it made him smile to hear them.

“I know, everybody loves me, it's the beard I think.”

You laughed and leaned back, giving him a light tap on the nose in chastisement.

“That'll be it John, if you ever shave I'm out of here.”

“I love you too, more than I could ever put into words.”

Sometimes you couldn't believe you were so content, but softly being kissed by one of the men you loved in the home you had made together made everything just feel right.

“I spoke with Kate.”

You tilted your head at him, encouraging him to continue. It was always a struggle to try and not worry whenever he said something like that. Were they getting shipped out again? Was something dangerous coming?

“This is my last Christmas in active duty love” he said, smiling fondly at the tears already forming in your eyes. “Not told Soap yet, but I've recommended him for Captain. Simon is pushing for it too, don't think he'd accept anyone else as his CO.”

You knew it was always what John had wanted, for Johnny to take over. He spoke with you about it sometimes, explained how it would be tricky moving him from Sergeant to Captain, but with the Lieutenant backing him it would work.

It always seemed such a far off thing and now here it was, less than a year away. You were definitely crying, so happy for him and for Johnny and for yourself.

“Let's do a winter wedding.”

“You- you're supposed to propose first!” you half laughed, half sobbed.

He chuckled at the sorry state you found yourself in and smothered your face in kisses as he apologised for going about it all wrong. You heard the door open and turned to see Johnny shaking off the dusting of snow that had settled on him. He took in the situation and grinned, coming barrelling over to crush both you and John in a hug even though he was cold and wet from outside.

“Cannae believe it, ye went and asked her to marry ye without me here didn't ye?”

“Don't worry Soap, you'll get your turn. Got something to ask you later as well.”

Something about the fact it was clear they had discussed marriage before made you sob even harder, ugly crying about how happy it all made you.

“Love you bunny, love you Captain.”

You got to watch a few months later when John finally told Johnny about the promotion, all confirmed with the higher ups. You got to cry all over again when John actually did get down on one knee in the summer, proposing properly. Johnny had proposed not 2 days later.

You did have a winter wedding right in your garden. They bound your hands together in a strip of tartan cloth as you declared that this was forever. Gaz got drunk and wound up giving Farah the raunchiest lap dance you had ever seen. Simon deadpanned that it was allergies anytime someone tried to tease him for crying during the ceremony.

John retired from active duty before Christmas as promised. As Johnny kissed you both goodbye and left to go lead his team to save the world once again he only laughed when you flustered horribly at his parting words.

“Mind and get started on those fat bairnies while I'm gone, cannae wait tae meet them.”

[ghost-with-a-teacup]

𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐆𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐄𝐲𝐞𝐬 ~ 𝐒𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐧 '𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭' 𝐑𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐲 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Summary: It's become a ritual at this point for Simon to ask you to help with his eyepaint before a mission, but that might just be an excuse for him to hold you close before he must become 'Ghost' once more. OR Simon just needs some extra tender loving, and we're here to give that to him :)) Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader (No pronouns used!) Word Count: 1.0K words Warnings: None! Unless you're allergic to fluff I suppose :p Author's Note: I CANNOT get enough of this man, and this prompt came to me in a dream haha. It's just very very soft Simon, hope you enjoy!!

The sun sat low in the sky, painting the world in a soft golden light just outside the windows of your room. It was a shame you couldn’t admire it in its entirety, instead having to busy yourself with packing your gear for the upcoming mission with 141 in the next 3 hours.

Gloves, ammo, med kit… you mentally checked off in your head despite knowing that with how long you’ve been doing this, packing your kit was like stating the alphabet.

Zipping up the final pocket, the final run-through was interrupted by three short knocks on your door.

Making your way over, you open the door and are met with the hulking figure of Ghost himself, his regular black balaclava and intimidating skull mask replaced with a simpler skull one.

“Simon! Didn’t know you’d be coming by so soon,” you say with a smile, gesturing for him to come in. He does so without hesitation, only humming lowly in response.

He takes note of your outfit, still not yet in tactical gear. Fuzzy yellow socks paired with shorts and one of his sweaters. While you were by no means the tiniest person on the planet, his clothes never managed to make you look like anything but.

‘Cute’ he thought to himself. There was a reason your callsign was ‘Sol’ after all, with you being the bright light of the task force, a glow that rivalled the sun itself. It also meant you burn just as strongly, your proficiency on the battlefield was very proof of that.

He sits down on your bed as if it were his own, which, at this point it practically was. If you weren’t in his room then he was in yours.

You and Simon had been dating for years now, going on 4 years next month. You had both met even before the task force was created, when you were nothing more than a private and he was a Sergeant climbing through the ranks. It was a slow but steady path to get to where you both were now, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Just look at the man, anyone would do the same.

“Pack all your things for the mission yet?” you ask, stepping into the space between his legs. He only grasped your hips and pulled you in closer.

“Yeah, though I am missing one thing, figured you could help me with it,” he says before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a pot of black paint paired with a brush.

You only grin in response, taking them into your own hands.

“Always,” you reply.

It was practically a ritual now, every time you had a mission Simon would get you to do his eyepaint. It was a simple little task, but no less intimate. It served as a grounding before you headed into the heat of battle, allowed for a moment to simply be close, to exist in each others space before you both had to become ‘Ghost’ and ‘Sol’.

You situated yourself down on his lap as he wrapped his arms around your waist, the warmth of his large hands seeping through your clothes.

Placing the paint down in your lap for a moment, you return your focus back to him.

“This okay?” you ask softly as your fingers brushed over the edge of his balaclava. Simon only nods slightly. While you couldn’t remember the last time he didn’t allow you to take it off, you still asked every time without fail. It was the least you could do, after all he’s been through.

Tugging off the mask you’re met with his beautiful face. As though crafted by the hands of the Gods himself he glowed in the light of the sun, stealing your breath away.

No matter how many times you’ve seen his face over the years, your reaction never changes.

Brushing your fingers over his face lightly, you pull him close for a tender kiss. No heat or passion, simply love, as though to say “I’m here, as are you. Us, together.” Pulling away, you smile as you look into his honeyed eyes, the love you held for him mirrored in his own.

“Let’s get to it, yeah?” you say.

“Let’s,” Simon murmurs quietly.

Opening up the pot of paint you get to work. No words are said between the two of you, and there didn’t need to be. Instead, you both bask in the comfortable silence and the presence of each other.

With gentle strokes, you apply the black paint, the first of many steps it takes to turn back into ‘Ghost’ when all he had to be was ‘Simon’ with you here on base. But that was the way your worlds worked, it was living two different lives. And while both were your true selves, they remained separate, neither persona belonging in the other’s world.

Methodically you tilt his head back and forth for even application across his eyes while he only relished in your soft touch, eyes closed in domestic bliss.

After a few minutes you were done, and you tapped his cheek with a finger playfully.

“Alright, all done big guy,” you say, but Simon doesn’t move to get up. He only opens his eyes momentarily before pulling you into a hug.

Pulling you as close as you could possibly get, his fingers tangled gently through your hair as he buried his face into the crook of his neck, inhaling deeply.

“Simon! You’ll smudge the face paint,” you said with a laugh, “and get it all over my neck. You have any idea how hard it is to get off?” you admonished teasingly, but Simon only shushed you softly.

“Just…let me do this for a moment, love,” he says, his voice uncharacteristically soft. While Simon was sometimes a man of few words, when he spoke he was heard.

“Okay,” you respond, wrapping your arms around him as best you could before also tangling your fingers through his soft blond hair.

You both just sat there holding each other for a little while as the sun continued to set behind you. As the day transitioned into night, and before you both had to turn back into ‘Ghost’ and ‘Sol’ once more.

Tags: @bloodonmyhands-1221

[guiltyasreid]

so high school l spencer reid x fem!reader

warnings/tags: non, fluff, fem!reader, there's one use of 'lady' but other than that its gn, bau!reader (kinda) qord count: 1625 a/n: i legit cannot stop listening to so high school by ts so this is what my brain has pooped out, i've written two based on ttpd but I'm not happy with the other one yet. lmk what you think :))))

Sometimes when you looked at Spencer Reid, you thought how did this man ever look twice at you. How did he ask you of all people out on a date? Everytime he looked at you, you felt as though you were in some k drama and the blossom trees were going to start shedding their petals, as you wandered down the street hand in hand, music would start playing as he gazed at you with those honey brown eyes.

Of course that never happened, it didn't stop you from going red every time he looked at you. He made you feel like you had a schoolgirl crush on him. Blushing, giggling, kicking your feet and talking to your friends about him. Making up code names so he'd never know you were talking about him. Letting them know every small thing he did because he made your heart stop.

It could be him holding the door for you as you walked into the bullpen, or holding out a hand for you as you both stepped off the jet, or how he'd let you lean on his shoulder on the jet while you slept, his hands running through your hair, not caring if anyone was watching him or seeing the interaction, it always made them smile.

He felt like Prince Charming to your Cinderella.

You weren't always so infatuated by him that it caused your brain to break. Most of the time, being with him felt like a breath of fresh air. A calm would come over you where you both could sit in each others arms while doing your own thing.

Then there were times like these.

It was a small abrupt gathering, JJ had already walked down the aisle. Everyone was mingling, drinks were pouring. Penelope had caught your arm before you could make your way inside. "I want a dance."

Who were you to ever deny Penelope?

You both span in obnoxious circles, laughing with your head thrown back as you twirled her out and pulled her back in. Both of you swayed to the lighter music together. "187 is looking at you as if you placed the moon in the sky." She whispered.

Your head turned to look in Spencer's direction. His eyes were soft trailing up you as you swayed. He was in a conversation with Derek but his eyes weren't moving from you. Finally, he landed on your eyes and you looked away red, hiding your face from him.

"You both make me jealous." Penelope giggled. "Why are you blushing? He's already your boyfriend."

"I don't know." You whispered back as if you were telling her a secret. She shook her head smiling. "He's so handsome, I can't help it."

"And you are gorgeous, don't you forget it." She raised an eyebrow at you, you nodded. "Now I won't apologise. Just letting you know." Your eyebrows scrunched in confusion.

Suddenly, the women twirled you out, letting go of your hand, and causing you to stumble into familiar arms. "Caught you." He whispered causing you to let out a laugh.

"Thank you." You weren't meeting his eyes as you both swayed. His right hand was placed at your waist, pulling you flush against him. You placed your forehead against his shoulder, giggling under the twinkling lights.

"What's so funny?" He asked, tilting his head down to nudge yours. You shook your head, not wanting to meet his eye.

His hand slid from the side of your waist to your back, causing you to squeak. His hand that was holding yours, started entwining your fingers together. "You look beautiful." He mumbled into your hair.

"You do too." You whispered back, your arm pulling him closer, you looked up at him, seeing him staring down at you. "Dr Reid, don't look at me like that." You laughed, leaning back down to hide your face as it grew warm.

"How could I not? You're my pretty lady" He kissed the side of your head. "And that dress looks magnificent on you." He whispered. You roll your eyes, laughing as he twirls you out and pulls you flush again.

Finally, you were looking at him, wide smiled at his antics. "You've bewitched me, every time I look at you, I turn to mush."

"You do?" He asked raising an eyebrow. "What do you think you do to me? I've never felt speechless before I met you. My brain stops running, you're my kryptonite." You kissed his cheek at the comment. "Would you like to go home?"

You looked around the room, the party seemed to be finally dying down, Henry was already asleep over two chairs. Hotch was holding a sleeping Jack in his arms, he was saying his goodbyes. You nodded at Spencer who smiled.

Goodbyes didn't take long. Spencer didn't hesitate to grab your hand as you walked towards his car. You shivered at the cold. He opened the car door for you before rushing around to the driver's seat. You blushed again at the small gesture. He smiled at your flushed face as he entered the car.

Spencer Reid was the epitome of a walking daydream.

You'd lay your head in his lap as you watched an episode of Doctor Who, he played with your hair absently. "What you thinking about?" He'd ask.

"About how we met." You replied.

"And how did we meet?" He asked with a small smile.

"Mr Eidetic memory doesn't remember?" You asked sarcastically and he leaned down to kiss your forehead.

"Jog my memory." He whispered.

"Well it was my first day-"

"Thursday June 6th 2007" He added. You scowled at him.

"Am I telling the story or you?" You asked huffing and he chuckled before becoming quiet to continue. "Anyway, it was my first day...

You stood outside the lift, biting your lip anxiously. The BAU, it was a bigger promotion than you were imagining when they said you'd be promoted. Of course, you had the qualifications for it, you knew you deserved it but there was still the small part of your brain that was telling you that you were in the wrong place.

As you entered the lift and clicked 6 the doors started shutting only for an arm to stop them before they fully shut. It caused a slight bang, in entered Dr Spencer Reid who was red-faced, hair nearly up to his shoulders. He saw your face going more red.

He was dressed in a white button up shirt, a brown vest, and a tie to match. Black slacks that when he turned you forced yourself not to check him out.

"You definitely checked me out." He cut off your story. "No way you didn't take a peak at my ass." You rolled your eyes smacking his arm. "Okay go on."

You definitely took a peak but you forced yourself to stare at the back of his head instead. His hair was curly and honey coloured as if he'd gotten highlights, but you could tell it was natural.

Hotch introduced you to everyone quickly. Spencer continued to pretend you did not exist throughout the entire case, you were 100% sure he hated you for some reason, maybe it was the cheeky peak at his ass. Maybe, he had eyes at the back of his head in that lift and saw you being a pervert.

"Okay, let me tell you what actually happened, because you are definitely telling it wrong." You laughed at his offence at what you were saying.

Spencer stopped the lift before it could close fully, he was red in the face from the embarrassing noise the lift made. It only got worse when he saw you in the lift. You looked like you'd just witnessed a comedy show.

"I did not, I'm pretty sure I was too anxious to laugh at you." You scoffed at his lies. He shushed you to continue.

He only caught a glimpse of you as he turned into the lift, he could tell you were beautiful, his heart was raising from that little interaction and it was as if he could feel your gaze on him which made the entire interaction even more embarrassing.

Hotch introduced you into the team. He knew if he tried to speak to you it would probably sound like a bunch of word vomit. You were magnificent, it was as if every time you looked at him every cell in his body stood in anticipation waiting for your next move. The subconscious part of his mind thought you were thinking about how embarrassing it was in the lift.

You were brilliant, smart, talented, a mean shot with a gun, they had their own sniper if needed, and you thought in ways no one did. You were a breath of fresh air onto the team, not to mention your smiles and silly jokes you'd make to try to get a reaction out of him. Derek would flirt with you and you always insulted him back which made him extremely nervous to even try.

Then, you started complimenting his outfits, listening to him intensely, never telling him to stop talking. You'd find his jokes funny, throwing your head back as if they were the funniest thing you'd ever heard. You even brought him of coffee just how he liked it. He knew if he asked, it could ruin everything. You could destroy him in one word. But, you didn't, you jumped at the opportunity to go on a date with him.

"You know I waited for months." You rolled your eyes. he was looking down at you with fond eyes. "Took your sweet time."

"Well I've got you now, and I'm not letting you go." He smiled, leaning down to kiss your lips.

"Neither am I." You giggled, leaning up to deepen the kiss.

[themostimportantnight]

A "vibe swap" between Misto and Tugger *exploding head emoji*

Mistoffelees is now very picky and tricky; he knows he's magically talented and wears the title of Original Conjuring Cat *another exploding head emoji* with pride (GAY PRIDE, HAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!). He loves putting on a show and annoying the older toms by playing tricks on them. He's a very noisy presence within the junkyard, and has probably had a number of shoes thrown at him.

Rum Tum Tugger is now more reserved and prefers to spend most of his time off on his own (he already spends a lot of time in the actual show off on his own, so this works out just fine). He has a tendency to assume that people are talking about him, and often ends up mildly embarrassed to discover that they were not. He very much enjoys watching Misto get up to his magical shenanigans, and is always there to cheer him on. He takes great care in his appearance, and flaunts it upon being given enough encouragement. Munkustrap is so proud of him!!!! He's excellent on the bagpipes and knows just when to play them!!!

[lienwyn]

Happy birthday, @a-very-fond-farewell! I figured you would enjoy seeing Mr. Abyss in a silly apron ;)

And Ga On be like: "DON'T MIND IF I DO"

... possibly connected to Who Holds the Devil, I guess, since Yo Han is cooking? The future we're all longing for, or something. Especially Ga On since he finally gets to bury his nose against Yo Han's neck like he's always wanted. That boy.

[niuxita21]

No one:

Absolutely no one:

Meiji: Why would I sit on a chair/the couch when my girlfriend's lap is literally RIGHT THERE

[lilyrizzy]

for my beloved @catofthecanals289... consider this day one of your twelve days of maxiel advent calendar lol (if i manage to write that much...i'll try...no promises....). but yay! wedding fluff

It's Grace that asks Max, “are you ready to marry my son?” 

On her face there is a grin so similar to Daniel’s, Max can’t help but return it despite his pounding heart and sweating palms.  

Looking out at the sea of familiar faces for a moment, he lets the steady hum of voices wash over him. Just breathes in the sweet smell of the tulips- Daniel’s idea- swirling in the air. Admires how the rays of sunlight filter through the big bay window behind him to bathe the room in gold.  

Max would have married Daniel in a Vegas back alley, but he does have to admit this is all very lovely. Victoria, bouncing Max’s baby daughter on her lap as his twins play with their cousins next to her, catches his eye to give him a sweet smile.  

“I am ready, of course,” Max says turning to Grace, and it’s been the truth since he was twenty years old. 

She squeezes the top of his arm, her smile softening momentarily, before she nods at the registrar. Then, multiple people are instructing Max to turn around, to face away from the aisle and instead to stare out at the setting sun through the window.  

Michelle had teased Daniel about this, said it figured that he would be the one to make the grand entrance of the day. Max had dutifully listened to Daniel’s insistences that he was not a show-off, while secretly agreeing with her. Announcing himself dramatically into a room silenced by the first few notes of a song he's spent months agonising over chosing seemed exactly like Daniel’s style.  

I want a proper first look, Daniel had told Max, it will be romantic. 

Hearing the charmed murmurings of the people they are closest to in the world as Daniel makes the entrance, Max can’t wait any longer to turn and look. 

Max is meant to wait. He’s supposed to count to fifteen, to let Daniel get at least a little way already down the aisle before he moves to look at him. He isn’t totally sure why, just that it had seemed very important when they’d practiced yesterday. Except-  

What he notices first is Daniel, of course. His wide grin, the soft brown eyes Max loves so much, framed by the cheeky way his eyebrows climb up his forehead as though to say, surprise! How beautiful he looks, though Max knows he would prefer the word 'sexy'.  

Then, it’s their children.  

Their twins, each with a hand tucked carefully into one of their dad’s, as the three of them walk down the aisle all together. Max can’t help the laughter that fizzes up from his stomach and all the way to his lips as he glances at the now empty chairs next to Victoria. Joe, who was supposed to be walking Daniel down, shrugs innocently at Max from the seat next to Grace. 

The bubbles of laughter don’t stop, not even as his eyes start to get wet at the corners, making his vision swim. He can still see everything he needs to perfectly; Daniel’s well cut suit, his carefully styled curls. The sparkle of the diamonds he let Max slip onto his fourth finger almost a year ago now, the sunlight bouncing off them. The matching blonde heads of his children, Oli’s topped with the flower crown Victoria had actually made for his sister, Livia.  

The people who remind Max over and over, just how gentle love can really be.  

The song fades out into silence when the three of them come to stand in front of Max. Three perfect faces wearing the same smile Max was first drawn to over ten years ago now.

He wants to kiss the version of it on Daniel’s face the moment that he gets close enough for Max to reach for, but they are fathers first now. Oli throws an arm around Max’s leg, hiding shyly behind him, and Livia informs him seriously, “Papa, I gave Oli my flower power to help him be brave.” 

Even as Max and Daniel exchange a grin, something thicker settles into Max’s throat. He can hardly believe it sometimes, that after years of traveling the world together, fatherhood is yet another adventure he gets to have with Daniel. 

“Hi baby,” is all Daniel says, cupping Max’s face gently. He is the picture of smug, and Max lets him revel in his glory for a moment, before crouching down to be eye level with their children. 

Glancing up at Daniel, Max asks instead, “do you think I could borrow him for a moment, so we can get married?” 

“Guys,” he says seriously, touching each of their sticky-warm cheeks in turn gently, just as their other father had touched his. “Thank you for helping daddy get to me safely.”

When they’d practiced, Joe had been the one leading Daniel up the aisle. Max remembers that this is supposed to be the part where the registrar asks who gives Daniel to be married, but there is no giving away to be done now. They have always belonged to each other, and now to their children as well, just as much.  

“Yes, yes, yes!” Livia declares, throwing her hands into the air excitedly. Oliver is less certain, but Victoria and Grace both speak up then, all gentle encouragement to coax them both back to their seats. They go- each with a parting kiss- and then Max straightens up again, Daniel is looking at him with the same shit eating grin.  

Good surprise? He mouths as the registrar begins the formalities, and Max does his best not to roll his eyes as he lets the fond smile overtake him again. Anything to do with their babies is lovely, so it’s not like it was really a gamble. 

It’s enough even, to blunt the sharp edges in Max’s chest when he looks at the two empty seats in the front row he had asked Victoria to keep free just in case. Fatherhood gave him a renewed belief that indifference and disapproval were not gaps that couldn’t be bridged with love. Now it’s enough to know that whatever divide might have formed between the family he was born into, there is nothing he wouldn’t find a way to cross for the family he made for himself. 

As if that has ever been anything other than the truth.  

He takes Daniel’s hands and repeats everything he needs to so that they can make what Max has always known to be true, official. When Max kisses Daniel, he feel both the promise of new beginning, and the fifteen years of shared history.  

“Who would have thought it, Verstappen?” Daniel teases as he pulls away from their first kiss as a married couple, but Max knows he is thinking the same thing when he adds, softer, “all mine now, Maxy.”  

What is a perfect day for them, is of course a little more boring for the babies. Halfway through signing the register, the children start to fuss, and so they end up with one on each knee, Livia demanding her flower crown back, and Oli forever eager to please the sister he adores. Somewhere, the same song the three of them made their entrance too fades back in and Daniel starts to dramatically mime the words to Max, like the show off he and Michelle both know he is. 

Your love will be, safe with me.