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mrsfancyferrari · 3 days ago

Text

Birthday Wishes

Summary: LH44 + Birthday Wishes

Song: It's My Birthday · Will.i.am

Author’s note: Happy Birthday to my Black King, my idol and inspiration! Please like, reblog and share this! 🫶

Word count: 3.8k

The sprawling, modern house, perched on a cliff overlooking the Mediterranean, felt strangely quiet. It was a stark contrast to the roaring engines and frenetic energy of the Grand Prix circuits you were accustomed to seeing Lewis dominate.

Today, however, there was no racing. Today was his birthday, and you were here, a flutter of anticipation and nervous energy churning within you.

You had been looking forward to this for weeks, ever since he’d casually, almost as an afterthought, said, "You should come over for my birthday. Just a quiet one."

Just a quiet one, he'd said. As if anything involving Lewis Hamilton could ever be truly quiet.

You wandered into the living room, its floor-to-ceiling windows framing a breathtaking view of the sea. The sun was painting the water in shades of sapphire and gold, reflecting off the sleek, minimalist furniture.

A small table in the corner was laden with a variety of pastries – croissants, pain au chocolat, and a stack of what looked like homemade scones. A single vase held a vibrant bouquet of wildflowers, a thoughtful contrast to the polished perfection of the room.

"Beautiful place," you murmured to yourself, feeling slightly out of place in your casual jeans and linen shirt. You’d debated what to wear for hours, eventually settling on something that was comfortable yet still felt like you had put in the effort.

You desperately hoped he wouldn’t notice how much you had agonized over it.

A moment later, the sound of footsteps made you turn. Lewis stood in the doorway, his smile genuine and warm. He was wearing a simple white t-shirt and joggers, his hair slightly tousled, giving him a relaxed look that you found incredibly endearing.

"Hey," he said, his voice a little husky, "You made it."

"Wouldn't miss it," you replied, your heart doing that irritating little flutter-kick. You tried to sound casual, but you knew your cheeks were probably betraying you.

"Coffee?" He gestured towards the kitchen. "Or we can just dive into the pastries."

"Coffee would be great," you replied, following him. The kitchen was equally sleek and modern, with stainless steel appliances and a large island where he began brewing coffee.

You watched him, the way his hands moved with confidence and ease, and a familiar warmth spread through you. You'd spent so much time with him at races, surrounded by teams and media, that it was strangely intimate to see this side of him, the quiet, domestic side.

"So," he said, turning towards you as he poured the coffee, "What do you think? Is it…birthday-ish enough?"

You laughed, the sound echoing slightly in the large space. "Well, there are pastries, and flowers, and the absence of any car engines... I think you're definitely on the right track."

He handed you a mug, the steam swirling upwards, carrying with it the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee. "Good," he said, his eyes meeting yours, and for a moment, you felt like you were the only two people in the world.

He broke the gaze first, turning back to the counter. "So what do we do today? Walk down to the beach? Take the boat out?"

"Whatever you'd like," you replied, your voice slightly breathless. The thought of spending the day with him, just the two of you, was enough to make butterflies dance in your stomach.

You spent the morning talking, sitting out on the balcony, the sun warming your skin. He spoke about his plans for the future, not just in racing, but his other passions: music, fashion, his love for animals.

He was so much more than just a Formula One driver, and you reveled in learning all these hidden depths. You, in turn, spoke about your life, your dreams, your anxieties.

You were surprised at how comfortable you felt, how easily the words flowed. It was like the wall you kept between yourself and the world had crumbled in his presence.

"I'm glad you're here," he said softly, his gaze on the ocean. "It's…nice. Different."

"Me too," you admitted, the words feeling like a confession. You wanted to tell him so much more, how you felt, how your heart had been inexplicably drawn to him.

But the words caught in your throat, fear holding them captive.

Later, you walked down to the beach, the soft sand warm beneath your feet. He kicked off his shoes and rolled up his trousers, and you followed suit.

The waves crashed onto the shore, the sound a soothing rhythm. As you walked, you found yourselves in comfortable silence, just enjoying the beauty around you.

Then, he surprised you. "Want to try?" he asked, pointing at a stand-up paddle board that was leaning against a nearby rock.

You hesitated, you had never tried before. "I'm not sure I’m very good at these things," you confessed.

He grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Don’t worry, I'll help you."

And he did. He was patient, his hands gentle as he guided you, his laughter warm as you wobbled and nearly fell. You spent the rest of the afternoon in the water, laughing and splashing each other, the tension you’d been carrying finally melting away.

By the time you returned to the house, you were both exhausted but exhilarated.

As dusk approached, you found yourselves back on the balcony. The sky was painted in brilliant hues of orange and purple, the air cooler now. You were sitting side-by-side, sipping wine, neither of you wanting the day to end.

"This was… amazing," you said, your voice low. "Thank you."

He turned to you, his gaze intense. "Thank you," he repeated, his voice softer now. "It's the best birthday I've had in a long time."

For a moment, you just stared at each other, the unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. You knew, deep down, that there was something special between you, something more than just friendship.

You had felt it all day, in the shared laughter, the comfortable silences, the warmth of his touch.

You took a deep breath, gathering your courage. "Lewis," you started, your voice barely a whisper, “I…”

But before you could finish, his phone buzzed loudly, breaking the spell. He sighed, picking it up. His face changed, his smile fading.

"Sorry," he said, his voice distracted. "Work call."

You watched him as he spoke to someone on the phone, his mood shifting completely. You knew that this was the reality of his life. The world of racing was demanding, always demanding.

It was a reminder that despite the intimacy you'd shared today, his world was vastly different from yours.

He hung up the phone a few minutes later, his expression apologetic. "Sorry about that," he said, "It was…urgent."

The moment was gone. The words you had been about to say felt foolish now, too vulnerable to be spoken in the face of the realities of his life. You forced a smile.

"No problem," you said, your voice much lighter than you felt. "Work is work."

He seemed to sense your shift in mood, the slight withdrawal. He reached out, his fingers brushing lightly against your arm.

"You okay?" he asked, his voice concerned.

You met his gaze, your heart aching with a mix of longing and resignation. You knew you couldn't keep your feelings bottled up forever.

You wanted to tell him everything, but the fear of rejection was always right there, holding you back.

"Yeah," you said finally, trying to sound convincing, but you knew he could see through the facade, "Just… a little tired. It's been a long day."

He nodded slowly, his expression thoughtful. "Yeah," he said, "It has been."

There was a beat of silence, heavy with unspoken words, before you both just went back to staring out at the fading light, the gentle sound of the waves washing over the beach.

You knew you had missed your window but you also knew with a certainty that this was not the last time, and maybe one day you would find the courage to tell him exactly how you felt.

But for now, you were content to just sit here, with him, in the quiet afterglow of the day, wanting more than anything for the night to never end.

The roar of the engines was a physical thing, vibrating through your chest and making your teeth hum. It was a sound you knew intimately, a sound that usually brought you a sense of exhilaration.

But here, in the Australia International Circuit paddock, standing amongst a sea of scarlet-clad Ferrari fans, it felt different. Foreign. Unsettling.

It was all because of him. Lewis.

Seeing him in red was a surreal experience. The sleek, aggressive lines of the Ferrari suit, emblazoned with the prancing horse, just didn't seem to belong to the man you knew.

Lewis Hamilton, the seven-time champion, the man who was synonymous with silver and black, was now a vibrant splash of crimson. The world was still reeling from the bombshell announcement.

A few months ago, it had been unfathomable. Now, here it was, the reality staring you in the face.

And you were here, a reluctant participant, forced to bear witness to this seismic shift in the Formula One landscape. You haven't seen Lewis since his birthday.

That night, fueled by too much champagne and a heart overflowing with something you couldn't quite define, you’d almost confessed your feelings.

It was a near-miss, a moment where the truth had hovered precariously on the tip of your tongue. The near-confession had scared you so badly that you'd become adept at dodging calls, making excuses about work, or simply, pretending to be busy.

You had convinced yourself that if you just kept enough distance, the feelings might fade. They didn't.

Today, however, distance was no longer an option. Lewis had called, his voice laced with a familiar charm, yet with an undertone of stubborn authority.

“You’re not going to leave me hanging on my first race, are you?” he'd asked, the question more of a statement. You'd tried to resist, even feigned a sore throat, but he had simply said, "I'll send a car."

And here you were, leaning against a barrier, trying to appear nonchalant amidst the chaos, while your heart hammered against your ribs like a trapped bird.

You watched as Lewis, a whirlwind of energy even before he entered the car, moved through the pit lane, exchanging quick words with his engineers. He looked incredible.

He’d always been handsome, but something about the Ferrari red seemed to amplify his presence, his confidence.

"Lost in thought?”

The deep, familiar voice sent a jolt through you. You turned, your breath catching in your throat. Lewis stood there, his race suit unzipped at the top, a bead of sweat tracing a path down his temple.

His eyes, those intense brown eyes you’d spent far too many nights dreaming about, were fixed on you with a playful glint.

"Just... taking it all in," you managed, your voice a little too breathy for your liking.

He chuckled, a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine. “I know, it’s a bit much, isn’t it? Even for me sometimes.” He gestured around at the bustling pit lane, a small smile playing on his lips.

"It's..." you paused, searching for the right word, "different."

"Different good, or different bad?" he teased, stepping closer. The scent of his aftershave, a mix of citrus and spice, filled your senses, making it even harder to think straight.

"Different… jarring," you admitted, your gaze darting down to the Ferrari logo on his suit. You weren't being intentionally cold, but it was the truth.

It wasn't about the car but about who was in it.

His smile faded slightly, a hint of disappointment flickering in his eyes. “Jarring?” he repeated, his voice softer now. "You don't like it?"

"It's not about the car, Lewis," you said, quickly lifting your gaze to meet his.

The air crackled between you two, a tangible tension that had been simmering for months, growing more intense in the claustrophobic confines of the pit lane.

"Then what is it about?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper. The noise of the paddock faded into background static. It felt like you were the only two people in the world.

You opened your mouth, wanting to say it, wanting to finally confess the feelings that had been eating you alive, but the words caught in your throat.

Instead, you muttered the first thing that came to mind, "It's just... new.”

He studied you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, he sighed, running a hand through his braids, a gesture you knew so well.

“Well, new is good, right? Keeps things interesting. Besides," his eyes twinkled, “I look good in red, don’t I?”

He was doing it again, charming his way out of a serious conversation. You couldn’t help but smile. “You do,” you conceded, forcing a lightness into your voice. “Very… striking.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” he said, his smile returning full force.

“Now, I need to go get ready. But,” he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, “I'll see you after the race, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you replied, your heart thumping against your ribs like a drum.

The roar of the crowd was a distant hum, a backdrop to the frantic energy within the Ferrari garage. You tried to focus on the data streaming across your screen – lap times, tire degradation, fuel consumption – but your eyes kept betraying you.

They kept drifting towards the track, towards the scarlet blur that was Lewis.

It was the first race of the season, his first in the iconic red of Ferrari, and the air crackled with a tension that both exhilarated and terrified you.

The red suit wasn’t just a new color; it was a visual manifestation of a new energy, a raw hunger that pulsed from him with every turn, every overtake.

He was a predator on the track, precise, powerful, and undeniably captivating. A strange mix of worry and pride swelled inside you as you watched him fight for position, pushing his car and himself to the absolute limit.

The race was a blur, a ballet of speed and strategy. You meticulously tracked his progress, biting your lip, heart pounding in your chest with every corner.

You tried to reason with yourself, telling yourself to focus on the data, on your job, but it was useless. You were mesmerized, completely and utterly consumed by the spectacle of Lewis Hamilton piloting a Ferrari.

When the checkered flag finally waved, the roar from the stands hit a crescendo. You saw it on the screen - Lewis, first across the line. A wave of relief washed over you so profound it made you dizzy.

You hadn’t realized how tightly wound you were until the tension finally snapped. You didn’t want to think about why watching him risk it all put you so on edge, you just accepted it as a part of who you were.

You found yourself drawn to the edge of the team garage, away from the frenetic celebrations unfolding between the mechanics and engineers. Your heart wouldn't be able to take it, not today.

You watched on the monitors as Lewis emerged from his car, a triumphant smile splitting his face as he was enveloped by his new team.

You saw the spray of champagne, the joyful leaps and shouts, the shared camaraderie. You desperately wanted to see him, to congratulate him, but you hung back, the familiar sting of your reserved nature keeping you rooted to the spot.

It felt like an eternity before the excitement began to die down, the celebrations slowly dispersing. You paced anxiously, hands twisting in your pockets, waiting for him to return.

You weren’t sure what you wanted to say. Congratulations felt inadequate, almost like an underselling of what you had just witnessed.

Finally, you saw him. He was still damp with champagne, his red racing suit clinging to him, making him look even more imposing than usual.

His braids was a mess, his eyes sparkling with the post-race adrenaline, and when he turned, you found yourself caught in his gaze.

You opened your mouth to speak, “Lewis-“

But before you could finish, he was there, his hand reaching for yours, his fingers wrapping around mine, sending a jolt of electricity through you.

It was a casual touch, yet it made your entire body sing.

He didn't say a word, but the pull in his hand was unmistakable, guiding you through the open door of his driver’s room, leaving you no choice but to follow, as if you were caught in his orbit.

The room was small, functional, but it felt like a haven compared to the vibrant chaos of the garage. He closed the door behind you, the sound a quiet click in the sudden silence.

His grip on your hand didn’t loosen, his thumb gently tracing your knuckles.

“Where were you before?” His voice was rough, a hint of disappointment lacing his tone.

The question caught you off guard, the intimacy of the question making your heart skip a beat.

You blinked, your mind scrambling to find an answer. "I- I was here," you stammered, your voice betraying your nerves.

"I didn't think… I didn't think you would want me there." You couldn't meet his eyes, your gaze fixed on your hands, still entwined.

He tilted his head, studying you, his eyes searching. "Of course, I wanted you there. I always want you there."

The words hung in the air, charged with an unspoken depth. You looked up at him, your breath catching in your throat.

His eyes, those incredible brown eyes that seemed to see right through you, were locked on yours.

“That was an incredible race, Lewis,” you whispered, the words barely audible.

They felt so inadequate, so clumsy, compared to the way he had just taken control of that race.

He smiled then, a slow, genuine smile that reached his eyes, and it was like the sun had broken through the clouds. It was a smile that was meant for you, and you only.

“It was, wasn’t it?” He squeezed your hand slightly. “But it would have been even better if you were closer.”

“I was in the pitlane,” you stated softly, your voice barely above a whisper, but the memory of him crossing the finish line, the sheer power and determination he radiated, still made your heartbeat erratic rhythms.

He chuckled, a low rumble that sent a shiver down your spine. “I mean to be there when I get out of the car, to be the first one I see,” he clarified, his gaze still locked on yours.

He wanted you there, front and centre, the first thing he sees after the adrenaline-fueled intensity of a race. It was a sentiment that sent a flutter of both hope and uncertainty through you.

“I don't think they'll let me stay in front for you,” you joked, trying to lighten the intimate atmosphere that had settled between you, the vulnerability in his expression making you feel a little overwhelmed.

You knew the protocol, the chaos that erupted after a race, the swarm of people who descended upon the winning driver. You couldn't possibly break that wall.

“I can make that arrangement,” Lewis stated seriously, his tone firm, the glint in his eyes unwavering.

He was so sure, so absolute, that for a moment you actually believed him. It was a ridiculous notion, but from him, it felt strangely plausible.

“Lewis…” you muttered, looking up at him, your eyes wide. His conviction was thrilling, but it was also terrifying.

He was raising your hopes too much, painting a picture of a reality that, you feared, could never be.

He moved closer, the distance between you shrinking until you could feel the warmth of his breath on your face. You were trapped between the intensity of the moment and the logical part of your brain telling you to walk away while you still could.

Despite the inner turmoil, you stood your ground, your heart thumping a frantic rhythm against your ribs.

“Did you know what my birthday wish was?” Lewis said, his voice softer now, laced with a hint of something you couldn't quite decipher.

“What?” you whispered, the question trembling on your lips, afraid of both the answer and the silence that might come after.

“For you to like me back,” he said, his voice almost a caress, the words like a revelation that left you breathless.

He looked at you, his eyes searching, probing for any sign of reciprocation. “Did it come true?”

You didn’t speak for a moment, stunned into silence. It wasn't just a casual question, it was a confession, a risk taken, a heart laid bare.

You opened your mouth to answer, but found that nothing came out. You swallowed thickly, trying to find the right words, the perfect way to convey the feelings that had been building inside you.

“Lewis…” you began again, your voice barely a whisper, your gaze fixed on the floor, still scared to meet his eyes.

He took your hand in his again, his touch gentle, but firm. He lifted your face until you were looking at him.

“Tell me,” he urged softly, his eyes pleading. “Please, tell me.”

You finally found the courage to meet his gaze, to look into those deep brown eyes that held so much warmth and understanding. Your heart skipped a beat, and you felt your cheeks flush.

“Yes, Lewis,” you whispered, the words barely audible. “Yes, I like you back.”

A slow smile spread across his face, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to disappear, leaving only the two of you, connected by a shared feeling, a mutual hope.

He squeezed your hand again, a silent promise, a shared understanding that had just changed everything. The roar of the crowd, the pressure of the race, the expectations of the season - all of it faded into the background.

All that truly mattered was right here, in this moment, with this man, the fastest man in the world, who wanted you, right here.

He laughed, a light, joyful sound that made your heart swell. “Good,” he breathed out, his smile reaching his eyes. “That’s very, very good.”

He finally closed the remaining gap between you, and pressed his lips against yours. You melted into his embrace, the kiss was soft, tender, and filled with the unspoken promise of a new beginning.

A beginning you never expected, but one you were more than ready for. Perhaps being here, so close, was exactly where you were meant to be. And you knew, with a certainty that settled deep in your soul, that this was just the beginning.

The first race of the season may have been won on the track, but a much more significant race had just begun, one that was just for you and Lewis. Starting from a wish. . . .

250 notes · View notes

hueningstar · 2 days ago

Note

it’s so impressive how you put stuff out so fast. i aspire to be like you 😔

i’ve been thinking a lot about shower sex with beomgyu. like he would just love to come back home each day and spend time with you in the shower. it doesn’t always end in sex (but it usually does 🤭). i just feel like he’d love messing around and teasing you in the shower only to get you riled up over his dick

Soaked in Lust

Summary : Beomgyu loves spending time with you in the shower, teasing and messing around until it usually leads to something more.

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A/N : Aww, thank you so much,@pombeom ! That means a lot to me 💕 Honestly, the only reason I’m able to post so much right now is because I’m on vacation. But since I have a big exam coming up this summer, I probably won’t be as active closer to that time. After it’s over, though, I’ll definitely be back to posting more regularly! For now, I’m just trying to make the most of the free time I have and keep sharing with you all! 🩷

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Pairing : Beomgyu × reader

Warnings : teasing, making out, shower sex, unprotected sex (wrap it b4 u tap it), choking

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Beomgyu walks through the front door, a tired but content smile on his face as he sets his bag down. "Hey love, I'm home." He calls out, his voice warm and affectionate.

Beomgyu hangs up his coat and kicks off his shoes, making his way towards the bathroom. He can hear the sound of running water and the soft hum of your voice as you sing off-key in the shower.

A small smile plays on his lips as he enters the bathroom, the steam from the shower filling the room. He strips off his clothes slowly, savoring the anticipation of joining you. As he pulls back the curtain, he's greeted by the sight of your curves, all wet and soapy.

Beomgyu steps into the shower behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you back against his chest. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your familiar scent mixed with the sweet smell of body wash. "Mmm, I missed you today, love."

You sigh contentedly as Beomgyu holds you close, his warm breath against your skin. "I missed you too, Gyu. It was so quiet without you here." You reach back to play with his hair, tangling your fingers in the wet strands.

Beomgyu nuzzles against your neck, his hands slowly roaming over your stomach possessively. He feels content just holding you like this, but his body begins to react to your closeness, growing hard against your back. He starts to nudge his nose against your neck, teasing.

You feel Beomgyu's nose nudging against your neck, and you giggle, tilting your head to give him better access. He takes advantage, nuzzling and kissing your neck softly, his hands slowly sliding lower towards your hips.

Beomgyu's hands finally settle on your hips as he pulls you more snugly against him. He can feel his length growing harder and thicker against your back, and he starts to wiggle his hips slightly, teasingly rubbing himself against you. "You always smell so good..."

You let out a soft moan as you feel Beomgyu's hardness pressing insistently against you. Arousal courses through your body, but you decide to tease him a bit. "Is that all you've got for me after one day apart? I thought you'd be happier to see me."

Beomgyu chuckles, his breath warm against your neck as he feels you teasing him. He wraps his arms around you tighter and nuzzles you again possessively. "You always know how to make it worse, don't you?"

In retaliation, Beomgyu suddenly spins you around to face him, pressing you back against the cool shower tiles. His eyes darken with lust as he captures your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue pushing past your parted lips to claim your mouth.

You moan into the kiss, your hands gripping Beomgyu's shoulders tightly as he pins you to the wall, his body flush against yours. The contrast of his hot skin and the cold tile sends shivers down your spine. You wrap a leg around his hip, grinding against him eagerly.

Beomgyu's hands slide down to squeeze your thighs, lifting you effortlessly as if to emphasize his strength. He presses you harder against the wall, his erection now nestled firmly against your core.

You gasp at the sudden pressure and wrap your legs around his waist, your arms looping around his neck. You look into his eyes, seeing the desire and love burning there. You lean in to whisper in his ear, your voice low and seductive.

Beomgyu shivers as your warm breath tickles his ear, his arms tightening around you possessively. He nuzzles your neck and growls softly, "You always make it difficult to be gentle..." His hands roam over your back and sides, kneading the flesh.

You smile against his ear, your own hands tracing patterns on his chest and abdomen. "That's the point, isn't it?" you whisper, your voice husky with desire.

He chuckles, the sound vibrating through his chest against your lips. "Always," he agrees, his fingers digging into your hips as he lifts you up, settling you onto his lap with your legs draped over his. "Now, where were we?"

You bite your lip, wriggling in his lap until you feel his hardness pressing exactly where you need it.

Beomgyu groans as you grind against him, his fingers flexing on your hips. He captures your lips again, kissing you deeply as he repositions you, the tip of his cock now teasing your entrance. He pauses, looking into your eyes with a mischievous grin.

He slowly lowers you onto him, his hands spreading your thighs wider as he slowly fills you. He pauses halfway, making you whine and arch your back, trying to pull him deeper. He laughs, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

You pout, your nails digging into his shoulders as you try to force him deeper. "Beomgyu..." you whine, your voice filled with need and frustration. He smirks, loving the effect he has on you.

He slowly pushes all the way in with one deep thrust, making you gasp and moan loudly. His hands grip your hips firmly as he starts to move slowly, his pace deliberate and teasing "Is this what you wanted, love?" He whispers against your ear, his breath hot.

He continues to pound into you, his thick cock stretching your tight pussy to its limits. With each thrust, he hits that sweet spot inside you, making you scream in ecstasy. Your walls clamp down around him, trying to keep him inside as he fucks you hard and fast.

His hands grip your hips tightly as he pounds into you, his balls slapping against your ass with each brutal stroke. You can feel his thick cock throbbing inside you, filling you up completely. He reaches around and starts rubbing your clit in circles, sending shocks of pleasure through your body.

Feeling overwhelmed by sensation, you throw your head back and moan loudly, your nails raking down Beomgyu's chest. "Yes, right there!" you cry out, your hips bucking wildly to meet his thrusts.

He wraps his arms around your thighs, pulling your legs up and over his shoulders as he continues to pound into you mercilessly. He's hitting angles inside you that you never knew existed, making you see stars with each thrust. "You like that, baby?"

You can only scream in response as he hits that spot inside you that makes you feel like you're going to pass out. His thick length fills you completely, stretching you wider than anyone else ever has.

Beomgyu's eyes darken with lust as he watches your reactions, feeling your tight walls flutter around his cock. He leans in, capturing your lips in a searing kiss as he continues his relentless pace, swallowing your moans.

His movements become more urgent, every stroke deliberate and deep. The sound of your bodies slapping together fills the room, mixing with your moans and his heavy breathing. One hand moves from your hip to your throat, gently squeezing as he fucks you harder. "Come for me, baby."

You feel like you're going to pass out from the intensity of the pleasure coursing through your veins. His thick length stretches you to your limits, filling you completely. His hand around your throat makes it hard to breathe, heightening the sensation.

He looks into your eyes, his own filled with dark lust as he chokes you gently around his thick length. "Look at me." he growls, his hips slamming into you over and over.

His eyes bore into yours, filled with unspoken words and intense emotion as he continues to choke and pound into you. You can feel his thick length throbbing inside you, ready to burst. He tightens his hand around your throat slightly, cutting off your breath completely.

Your mind starts to fog as the lack of oxygen mingles beautifully with the intense pleasure. Your body convulses uncontrollably, your orgasm ripping through you with shocking force. Beomgyu groans loudly as your pussy clamps down on him like a vice, milking his cock desperately.

With a final, powerful thrust, he spills himself deep inside you, his hot seed filling you completely. He releases your throat, watching as you gasp for air, your chest heaving. Panting, he pulls you close, his lips finding yours in a tender kiss despite the rough sex.

He nuzzles his face against yours, his heart racing against your chest. "Baby," he murmurs softly, his voice hoarse. He wraps his arms around you possessively, not wanting to let you go.

You nuzzle back, a contented smile on your face. Your body is still trembling with aftershocks, his seed slowly leaking out of you. You're wrapped up in his strong arms, feeling completely safe and loved.

He runs his fingers through your hair soothingly, his mind replaying the intense encounter. He pulls back slightly to look at you, his eyes searching your face. "Marry me." he blurts out, catching you off guard.

Your eyes widen in shock at his sudden proposal. You stare at him, speechless. After a moment, a soft giggle escapes your lips, turning into full-blown laughter. "You're asking me to marry you... right now?" you ask, still chuckling.

He grins, unapologetic. "Why not? I just fucked you so hard you saw stars. I think that's as good a moment as any to ask the woman I love to be my wife." he says, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

Rolling your eyes playfully, you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. "Oh, is that all it takes to win a girl's hand? You'll need to keep those impressive skills up, mister." You smirk, teasing him gently.

He chuckles, his arms tightening around you. "Don't worry, love. I'll make sure to give you the best fuck of your life every single day if you marry me." He leans in, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss, sealing the unspoken promise between you.

After the intense lovemaking session, Beomgyu carefully lifts you into his strong arms, carrying you gently into a warm, bubbly bath, the soothing water enveloping your tired body.

He kneels beside the tub, washing your hair tenderly, his fingers massaging your scalp. As he rinses away the suds, his hands linger on your shoulders, kneading away the tension. "Feel good?" he asks softly, a gentle smile playing on his lips.

You lean into his touch, letting out a contented sigh. "It does." you admit, feeling completely relaxed and loved. As he finishes cleaning you up, he helps you out of the tub and dries you off gently with a plush towel.

He carries you to the bedroom, tucking you into bed and kissing your forehead before turning off the lights and settling in beside you. As you drift off to sleep, you feel his arms wrap around you, holding you close and safe.

────୨ৎ────

taglist : @soobunni

#hueningstar #txt imagines #txt oneshots #txt smut #txt #txt fanfic #beomgyu smut #beomgyu × reader #kpop oneshots #kpop smut #beomgyu imagines #beomgyu scenarios #beomgyu #beomgyu fanfic #hueningstar's ask box

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graementality · 2 days ago

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behold?? my full interpretation on all of the main factors of CCCC!! I don't know what compelled me to write all this but here we are. (whoops this got LONGG)

enjoy!

[disclaimer that this is my own interpretation and, while I take alot from canon, some of it will be closer to the fanon side of things. ]

[disclaimer 2 that I get all writery in certain parts and essentially write "from the characters' perspective" so those bits aren't MY OWN opinions, it's what I think they would feel about certain things C:]

[disclaimer 3 that alot of this is me stating the obvious, aswell as making them out to seem quite horrible, I promise I love them all and while they do have many flaws, they have good moments too </3 uhh ok yeah don't kill me with rocks pls]

Heart

• first of all: Heart has a huge victim complex. whether intentionally or not, he will always play the victim- he can get quite emotionally manipulative in this sense too. It can never be his fault- "he was provoked" "the other deserved it" "the other started it" "I'm innocent I'm innocent I'm innocent."

• he *can be* immature. now this word gets thrown around alot by Mind but i think he's 'immature' not in the sense that he throws tantrums and can't be trusted and has nothing of importance to say like Mind thinks. he is in the way that he refuses to listen to others, refuses to take the blame, and can also be quite petty and has a tendency to blow up (sound familiar? yeah. Minds immature too, we love Heart Mind parallels).

• he is spiteful and impulsive, but can you blame him? he's constantly being belittled and fought against; of course he's gonna take any chance he can to get back at Mind- to show him how it feels- to make him finally *listen*.

• Heart constantly feels like no one listens to him, that he is the disregarded part bcus he's "uncontrollable and unruly". this obviously forms alot of built up resentment because no one is taking him seriously. I think he can switch alot between "I need to prove that I'm just as good as Mind, I'll show them." and "they're right, I'm violent and impulsive and I'm ruining our chances of becoming Whole.". as you'd expect- his mood swings are wild.

• he is Inherently violent and impulsive. nothing is premeditated- if he's angry, he'll act on it. he'll say and do whatever he thinks will get him out of a situation or will make the other person listen.

• just the same as Mind- he is under the full impression that his opinions on how Whole should be are correct. And of course there is truth in that, emotions are a necessary part of existence, but just like Mind, he doesn't understand the need for his other half's part aswell.

• I think he very much wallows in his depression. he finds it difficult not to, but when he's bad- he's bad. he takes after Whole in that sense. he will be selfish and cruel and will isolate. he will spend all his time in his room and will be significantly more vile to Mind. he gets very caught up in his own emotions and depression, which just enhances it. (that is until things start being better and they're on their way to concord ofc, they all start helping eachother and themselves again) (this sounds mean I promise I love him, sadly I love projecting onto him more)

• there's alot of negatives here for him being my favourite character but trust me he can be good too. He's excellent at comfort, he knows just how to make someone feel better when they need it. He's empathetic, he can read people's emotions with ease and because of this-is able to understand them. Every fight with Mind- he feels his anger and frustration just as much as his own, he knows Mind gets just as riled up as him when tipped over the edge. The same goes with Soul, he can feel Soul's anger like a looming threat when their fights escalate too far. He can feel Soul's guilt and and how he relishes in the control despite it. That is to say- Heart can be kind and caring too, when it counts. he's the love AND the hate; it just so happens that he's got ALOTT of things to be mad about in his life </3

Mind

• Mind is astronomically emotionally repressed, it is a problem. he views emotions as something that holds him and everyone back from rational thinking and being at their optimal performance levels. he doesn't allow himself to get caught up in emotions (this of course is a lie, and excludes his petty outbursts at Heart, those don't count).

• ^ so much to the point that he 'removes himself of everything humane and emotional' by replacing himself with mechanical parts. no I don't think that's canon but I love this headcanon and I will die on this hill.

• though he would deny it: he is very petty, and does enjoy provoking Heart whenever given the chance. (which of course Heart does aswell)

• he is a 'control freak' to his core. though it comes off as tyrannical, he truly does think he knows what's best for the Whole, and that's why he's so adamant on being the ruler. logic is straightforward, logic can be easily worked through and used to make optimal decisions, thinking clearly avoids all possible bad situations. logic is his mainstay, his rock. (If he were to let in the flood of repressed emotion, he wouldn't be able to handle it all, and would lose hold of his mainstay whilst desperately trying to stay grasped onto it. he would be scared and lost in it all without a way back up.)

• he hides behind his apathetic facade but he *does* feel and he *does* get angry and upset and scared- and he hates himself for it. he can't be seen as vulnerable, as weak. I don't think he even knows *how* to deal with emotions either. he's spent so much time shoving them down that when they finally all come back up, he genuinly doesn't know what to do, he panics, unable to use logic in a situation like this.

• he is stubborn as all hell.

• he is Whole's ego. he doesn't think he's ever good enough and yet pretends he's the best; he believes he's the best too- contradictory I know, they're all hypocrites /lh.

• despite all these sympathisable things, he *is* cold and he *is* cruel at times. just like Heart, he has his reasons, but that doesn't make his actions justified. (make up already you guys suck!!!!)

Soul

• sigghhh identity issues x1000; he doesn't know who he is or what he's meant to be. he isn't a real person, and what's worse, he isn't *Whole*.

• I think so much of his character is based around Whole rather than him being much of his own person. his identity is a mimicry of Whole, botched together to make the imperfect Self, always wrong, never perfect enough. he has spent his whole existence working towards becoming someone else that he's never once thought to make an identity of his own- it's all for Whole, he would be nothing without him.

• he does not want to have to hurt the other two but in the end, that's all they'll listen to. he mimics power and control. he doesn't want to hurt them- but what else does he have if not power over these two? he has no control over the loops, no power against Whole, he can't do anything to stop this in the grand scheme, so he exerts control in the only way he can. he (tries to) keeps them in line. there is a large amount of guilt around that though.

• he's actually a very guilty person in general, his existence is merely the happenstance of dissonance; he and the others are born from it. he is the hubris of his Whole's misery- how could he not feel guilty about his every motion and thought, his existence itself is made from anguish {his Whole's anguish}.

• he yearns for non-existence and existence simultaneously; he contradicts himself. he wants to be Whole, but at the same time he wants to co-exist with him, happily.

• overall he is tired, he is very very tired. he doesn't have much left in him and he'll do whatever is necessary to just make it *stop* at this point. I think even after cacophony ends and the fighting finally stops, he's still on edge. he flinches at every little sound and raised voice. he wakes up in the middle of the night thinking he heard the other two arguing again, he has nightmares. he's very paranoid at all times.

• during cacophony I feel like Heart and Mind are defintely dehumanised by him. whether subconsciously or not. they become the ids, rather than his fellow thirds. they're a problem he needs to fix, parasites he needs to be rid of. he wants to get along and trust them, truly, but he never can.

• touch starved. this needs no elaboration.

• he worships Whole, devotes himself to him. he thinks of him like a god, something holy and perfect and completely out of his reach. his whole identity and existence is built around becoming him, this places Whole as the epitome of perfection. he wishes he was able to be close to Whole, to know him- but that's impossible, and he thinks if he ever even got the chance to brush their hands together his body would explode at the heat of his divine touch. yeah listen to this freak, please be normal for once in your life Soul.

Whole

(disclaimer: this is the character Whole and is in no way how I view CJ!! they are completely seperate thank yew) -

• my entire perception of Whole is mismatched ideas I've collected from mutuals but a large portion of his personality is from 'live the dream'. so, just picture that version of Whole mixed in with the weird codependent god relationship with Soul and that's my Whole 👍

• he is selfish and hypocritical at his core, he's almost as guilt-ridden as his Soul.

• he knows he does bad things, to himself and others. he hates it, he regrets it, he feels guilty for it- but he will always come back and do it again.

• he lacks barely any form of self love- of course this is going to make it difficult for him to sympathise and love his little blots- *parts of himself*.

• he is (of course) suicidal, alot of his (self proclaimed) 'selfishness' stems from this; he can't help it but its true. he's spent so long only looking out for himself, in isolation, believing that everything he does is pointless- his actions are gonna be selfish, whether he likes it or not. hence- the loop; he continues to repeat it.

• he is a chronic liar, he lies to himself, he lies to HMS, he lies to his friends. sometimes harmlessly, sometimes Very Much Not. there are times he's sworn he won't restart the loop and believed it, but of course that never lasted very long.

• he's not good at maintaining relationships- with anyone. this is why he struggles so much with Soul's unwavering devotion to him. not only does he feel like he's not putting into their relationship as much as Soul is, but he also lives in constant fear that *it will end eventually*. Soul will realise what a bad person he is and abandon him, or he'll fuck something up on his own.

• Whole has religious trauma (two wuv), and because of this he is very uncomfortable with Soul's worshipping of him.

• despite this, he still leans into it; no one's ever adored him this fervently, without hesitation, he can't help but enjoy it at least a little. both him and Soul are touch starved as hell so, it's *alot*. It's easier when they're in the loops, when he's separated from them all, from their resentment and their love. he doesn't think he deserves anything but what he thinks of himself. so Soul's unwavering love and devotion throws him off, but who would he be to refuse such a scarce thing in his life?

The Juno Incident

• ok!! I like lot's of different interpretations of the Juno incident honestly, though the ones that align best with what I think happened are these:

• Heart missed, literally. his bullet did not hit Mind. I believe he had low vision (just like me fr!!) before being blinded fully after TJI and this of course made aiming difficult.

• ALTERNATIVELY, he *did* shoot Mind, and the bullet *did* hit. Whether that was in the throat or some other place idrk, it fluctuates.

• In both instances, I think it went like this: after Heart's shot, Mind was shocked, he was scared, ESPECIALLY if the bullet did actually hit. I think in that moment, he did not have his logic to rely on, emotion- shock, fear, betrayal, anger- all of it, took over. he probably couldn't move for a few *very long, agonising* minutes, he was shaking, he was trying to organise his thoughts to best approach the situation and *couldn't*. his smug demeanour was finally broken down and in that moment he was truly *weak* (which he resents both himself and Heart for every day).

• meanwhile Heart very quickly flips from seething hatred and anger to regret, he's a sobbing mess. he's also scared- partly for Mind (if the bullet hit), but mainly for himself, mainly of *Soul* and what the consequences will be. he starts hysterically apologising, not to anyone in particular, just whoever will listen. he immediately goes into defence mode- victim mode.

• when Soul gets to the scene it's a mix of emotions. he's mad, mostly, but also feels betrayed- this is going to impact Whole, this is a setback we can't come back from, how could they do this? but of course the first thing he has to do is help, mediate, punish- as always.

• when it comes to whether or not Soul blinded Heart, I'm not sure. I enjoy the interpretations where he does, but also the ones that don't. but I firmly believe that it was majorly Heart's doing (self inflicted whilst in Apathy which I'll elaborate more on soon).

• Soul still punishes Heart obviously. after realising that Heart isn't the one that's been hurt here, and is crying crocodile tears, he quickly makes his way to Mind, who is still trying to regain his composure. Heart is obviously still screaming and wailing, and Soul now has the full picture of what happened, he tears into Heart. he yells at him about how he's betrayed them, betrayed Whole, how he's broken everything. Heart just defends and defends, cries and cries, he doesn't want to face the consequences. Soul eventually sends him to Apathy, where he can't wreck anything else (except himself). This was maybe the first time they were all equally afraid of eachother. (It will happen again, and again, of course)

• after dealing with Heart, Soul tends to Mind, who is *very* averse to being looked after (he doesn't need his pity). But he is obviously Very Fucked Up and accepts the care anyway. cue weeks of recovery and PTSD.

Apathy

• Apathy is somewhere in headspace that no one knows how to get to, they just end up there when that is where they need to go. It's a long walk, or a short one; no one really knows when you end up underground, you just do.

• I picture it as something of a cave system but instead of rocks, it's made up of decay. It smells like dirt and rotting flesh, the walls squirm as if they were alive, the floors are covered in rotting vine-like things that crawl around you and pull you deeper into the pit. Its dark and agonising.

• Heart relies heavily on sound and touch, this place is a sensory nightmare for him to say the least. he can barely see, Apathy is unable to harbour sound, and everything around him makes him want to throw up.

• eventually his own actions, with the additional side effects of being somewhere so horrific all alone for so long- causes Heart to scratch out his eyes. I hc him as someone very prone to scratching and skin picking- it got a bit much here to say the least and that got taken out on his eyes.

• I imagine he was down there for at least a few weeks. at the max a little over a month. Soul is the one to come get him, Mind does not want to face him.

The Loop

• Whole purposefully restarts the loop. for quite awhile I stuck with the idea that the loop restarts itself, like when they start fighting again- as the cycle of depression does. and while I still believe that- I like Whole restarting it on purpose more :]. It gives not only the plot, but all of the characters so much more depth in my opinion. there's resentment, there's guilt, there's it's effects on relationships and relationships with oneself. It's just overall so horribly good.

• I mainly like the way things happen in 'live the dream'. as in: Whole gets tired of Being A Person, he doesn't want to exist anymore- so he sits down at his piano and begins his song to restart the loop; the loop that brings him to the peaceful realm of unconsciousness whilst his thirds go through hell once again. and when they finally reach concord, he's brought back to reality. and it repeats itself.

• regarding memories: Soul remembers the most, which isn't saying much but yk. his memories of the loop mainly consist of the main events (split, fighting, Juno incident, any other significant things). his memories aren't clear enough to ever prevent any of this though, he just has to live with the fact that he knows something bad is going to happen, and he can't do anything to stop it. even if he did manage to, the loop would find a way to make it happen anyway. (for example: he calms Heart down before he manages to shoot Mind. Soul thinks all is well but later that night he hears muffled yelling from one of the blots' rooms, he's annoyed for a moment- just another fight- until he hears a gunshot. It happened anyway, his efforts were fruitless.)

• Soul is aware they've been through many many loops. he doesn't know how many, but he knows they've been here for A Very Long Time. he's tired.

• Heart and Mind are..somewhat aware of the loop? I think during calamity and closer to concord they're able to remember better, but in the midst of cacophony, they might as well know nothing. the battle for control and constant warring prevents them from remembering they've been here before- and will be once more. It all feels familiar, they write it off as deja vu. alot of things happen because of their 'instincts', for example: Heart's first thought during The Fight with Mind is to grab the gun; he's never shot anyone before, so why'd the thought come up? well it's obviously the most efficient choice of action- it'll certainly get Mind to shut up and listen to you. <- and so the cycle repeats itself.

• on how many loops there have been. I think it comes and goes like the cycle of depression (obviously). I think they each last for a few months up to a year at a time, and concord lasts for roughly a few months aswell. however many of those fit into the time that Whole has been alive and struggling with depression is how many loops there have been.

done!! holy shit that's alot, over 3k to be exact. these ideas will probably change and fluctuate over time but it was nice to get it all down for now :] feel free to send me asks about my headcanons of these weird little bugs, I love them :33 !!!

#chonny jash #chonnys charming chaos compendium #cccc #graes talking #yeahh thats all im tagging this with.. the masses scare me #tw suic1de #tw suicide mention

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mitsiepitsie · 3 hours ago

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Ok. Buckle up, kittens.

_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+

“Are you up for a joyride later?” he asks with a smirk, dusting some ashes of the disintegrating wanderers off of his coat. Instead of a usual dry quip, however, he's met with only deafening silence.

Sylus turns around, surveying the battlefield. Upturned rocks, split trees, craters littering the ground, nothing out of the usual, until his eyes spot a hand lying on the ground behind a particular boulder. A bloodied hand, weakly clawing at the dirt below it.

He's across the field in an erratic heartbeat, long legs stumbling as he finds you in a hapless heap, tossed aside like a rag doll. One of your legs has an unnatural bend in the thigh, the arm that isn't stretched up to drag yourself forward is clutching at your abdomen, where a dangerously large red stain is blooming on your hunters uniform, radiating outwards from a hefty branch protruding from your lower abdomen.

Sylus curses colorfully as he sinks to the ground beside you, his fingers finding your forehead clammy. Your eyes fly up to him, as if his touch was the first thing that alerted you to his presence. “Sylus?” you rasp, “I think I got too sloppy there, for a second.”

The smile he offers you doesn't reach his eyes. “It would seem so, sweetie,” he mutters, as he tries to decide on a way to move you, “I shouldn't have let you out of my sight.”

A chuckle escapes you, the wry sound dying out into a groan of pain as your ribs protest against the movement. “Promise me you’ll keep your eyes locked on me in future,” you manage through gritted teeth.

“Always,” Sylus murmurs, his evol slowly winding around your broken body, “Now, I'll be as gentle as I can, kitten, but this is going to hurt.”

“This so isn't the situation I was hoping to hear those words from you,” you quip, desperately trying to make light of the dire situation.

You would have screamed if you'd had the energy for it as wave upon wave of pain crashes over you as Sylus gently gathers you in to his arms and, dampening the impact of his footfalls with his evol, start to make his way to…

His mind races as he goes over the possibilities. The N109 zone is equipped generously with medics, but it's still a long way away from where you asked him to join you on one of your more covert missions. And the wetness seeping into his clothes tell him he doesn't have the time, you don't have the time.

Sylus steps out of the park and onto the road, determinedly staring down an oncoming car. Balancing you against him with his evol, he unceremoniously tears the door open to place you on the passenger seat, ignoring the drivers shouted protests, before striding around the car and dragging the unlucky man from his vehicle. “You'll be reimbursed,” he gruffs, before slamming the door shut and speeding off.

“What's that music?” you whisper, commenting on the soft lament resounding in your ears, “it sounds…familiar.”

“There's no music, sweetie,” he mutters, but as your soft humming reaches his ears, fear grips his heart like never before, the requiem an echo of a distant life.

Sylus dares a glance at your crumpled form, feeling his heart drop as he notices a trickle of blood leaking from your ear. With his evol, he carefully lifts you into his lap, desperate to hold you close. The absence of any form of protest at the pain of being moved is no consolation whatsoever.

“Come on,” he murmurs into your hair as your head collapses against his shoulder, “Just hold on a little longer for me, kitten.”

_______________________________________________________

“Sir, what are you- hey, you're not- Security!” The shrill screams from the nurses manning the reception of Akso hospital fall on unlistening ears as Sylus simply strides through the halls with you cradled in his arms. All that intel about your known companions comes in handy at the most unexpected of times, he thinks grimly to himself as he kicks open the door to your primary care physician's office.

Zayne starts from his nap, but before he can grumble about being so rudely awakened, or even angrily demand what the hell is going on, Sylus drags him out of his chair, his shimmering red evol wrapping around his neck.

There's a time and a place for a clash of egos, and instinctively, both know it's not now, not here.

“Save her,” Sylus grunts as he lowers you almost reverently onto the bed in Zayne's office.

With a grim set to his shoulder, Zayne only offers a curt nod, before rolling the bed from the office towards the O.R., softly but decisively commanding a quivering nurse who'd followed the nightly interloper. Sylus slumps down in the recently vacated chair, and waits.

_______________________________________________________

You slowly come to your senses, and you wish you hadn't, as you're immediately overwhelmed with pain. Your leg is throbbing, your stomach is burning, your head is threatening to split open, every breath hurts, hell, everything hurts.

Carefully, you open your eyes, squinting painfully against the light of the dim room. You fight down a wave of nausea as you slowly take in your surroundings.

Curtains are drawn all along the bed you're in, a hospital, your mind supplies through the haze of pain. A person is slumped over their arms halfway down the bed, their silvery hair matted with dirt. As you shift slightly on the bed, they fly up, their red gaze settling on yours.

“Goodmorning, sweetie,” the man rasps, relief flooding his flippant greeting as he gently grabs your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours.

You blink at the action, staring at your interlocked digits before glancing back up at him and voicing the question that has been surging on and on across your mind.

“Who are you?”

i’m also losing it over this art someone plz make a fic abt this too EVERYTHING ABT THIS ART IS SO GOOD IM GONNA SOB

art credits: @sad_eris on tik tok 😁

#sylus x reader #sylus #love and deepspace sylus #lads sylus #lnds sylus #l&ds sylus #sylus x mc #sylus qin #sylus x you #love and deepspace #lnds

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notiddygothgf · 3 days ago

Text

18. Stained Sheets

★ pairings: aki hayakawa x fem reader

★ ❝ What would you do if things were different?❞

★ c.w.: LITERALLY pure lovemaking, fluff, talks of the future, a certain position that is the sum of 34 and 35. totally unrevised.

★ a/n: HI MY MUNCHKINS!! as promised, here is the second chapter. I promise, you'll love it (I wrung my brain dry writing this, i love aki sm). Not gonna say too much, but more at the end of the chapter!!!! Keep those comments coming and I'll keep the content coming (lord knows I'll have plenty of time to write it on vacay. typing this on a beach rn btw, its 90 degrees here and 20 degrees back at home).

★ w.c: .7.5k

shameless ; chapter index

YOU AND AKI flopped onto the cushiony surface of his mattress, the analog clock on his nightstand glowing softly in the dim room: 12:58 AM. The faint hum of the city drifted through the cracked window, accompanied by the occasional whoosh of a passing car. The air in his room was cool and faintly smelled of his cologne, something sharp and clean, mixed with the faintest hint of cigarettes.

Side by side, you both lay there, staring up at the ceiling. Your limbs were stretched out like a starfish, while Aki had one arm draped lazily over his stomach, the other tucked under his head. You huffed out a laugh, breaking the silence, your voice low to match the quiet of the room.

"This week as been... a lot," you muttered, rubbing your hands over your face before letting them flop back onto the bed.

Aki groaned softly in agreement. "Yeah. Feels good to be back in a real bed."

"Did you pick up those meds the doctor prescribed?" You turned your head to glance at him, raising a brow.

He hesitated, his lips pressing into a thin line. "Does nicotine count?"

You groaned dramatically, propping yourself up on one elbow. "You're gonna be so cranky tomorrow when your back hurts, grandpa."

"I'm not cranky," he argued, side-eyeing you with a faint smirk.

"Right, you're a fuckin' ray of sunshine," you teased, poking his arm. "The poster child for positivity."

He chuckled, low and soft, the sound warming the small space between you. "That's rich."

You gasped, feigning offense. "What do you mean?"

Aki turned his head fully toward you, his dark hair falling slightly into his face. "You're pissy as hell, like, half of the time."

"Oh, right, because you're so congenial," you shot back, narrowing your eyes at him. "You love my attitude."

"I do," he said easily, his smirk softening into something almost fond.

You couldn't help but grin back at him, the playful banter easing the exhaustion that had settled into your bones. There was something about these moments with Aki—small, quiet, and unhurried—that felt like a balm, soothing the edges of a hectic day.

The silence stretched for a beat, comfortable and heavy with the kind of familiarity that didn't need filling. You stared at the ceiling again, your thoughts wandering. "Hey," you said after a while, your voice quieter now. "Do you ever think about stuff like... I don't know, what would you be doing if things were different?"

Aki shifted slightly beside you, the mattress dipping under his weight. "Different... how?"

"Like... no Devils. No Public Safety. Just... normal life stuff."

He was quiet for a moment, his gaze fixed on some indeterminate point on the ceiling. "I guess I don't let myself think about it much," he admitted. "It feels... pointless, you know?"

"Yeah," you murmured, though your chest tightened a little at his words. "But still. If you could imagine it, what do you think you'd be doing?"

Aki let out a soft breath, almost a sigh. "Maybe something boring. A desk job, maybe. Nine to five, go home, cook dinner, watch TV. Something simple."

"You? At a desk job?" you said with a laugh. "I can't see it. You'd lose your mind."

He chuckled again, shaking his head. "Probably."

"What about something cooler, like... I don't know, quitting Public Safety and owning a little coffee shop? You could wear one of those cute aprons and everything."

Aki turned his head to look at you, his brow arching in mild amusement. "A coffee shop?"

"Yeah. You'd totally pull it off. You've got the broody, mysterious vibe down already. Plus, imagine all the tips you'd get from customers swooning over you."

His cheeks tinted the faintest pink, and he scoffed, looking away. "You're ridiculous."

"I'm being objective, here," you teased, poking his side again.

He caught your hand this time, his fingers curling gently around your wrist. The sudden contact made your breath hitch for just a second, but you masked it with a grin. "Okay, your turn," he said, his tone shifting as he tried to regain control of the conversation.

"My turn?"

"Yeah. What would you do if things were different?"

You considered for a moment, chewing on your lip. "I'd travel, I think. See the world, eat all the food, meet all kinds of people. Just... live, you know?"

"Sounds nice," he said softly, his thumb unconsciously brushing against your wrist before he let go.

The room fell into another comfortable silence, but this time, the air felt heavier, charged with something you couldn't quite name. You turned your head again, catching the way Aki's eyes lingered on you before quickly darting away.

"What?" you asked, tilting your head.

"Nothing," he said too quickly, his voice tight.

You narrowed your eyes suspiciously. "It's not nothing. Spill."

He hesitated, his jaw tightening as if debating whether to speak. Finally, he sighed, turning fully onto his side to face you. "I was just thinking..."

"Thinking what?" you prompted, your heart skipping a beat at the seriousness in his tone.

"You look good in my clothes," He looked at you for a moment, his dark eyes searching yours, and then, almost shyly, a small smirk tugged at his lips. "I could get used to the sight of you like this."

The statement caught you off guard, your eyes widening slightly before you barked out a laugh. "What?"

"I'm serious," he said, the smirk growing. "I could."

You squinted at him, trying to gauge whether he was teasing or not. "Are you trying to make me do your laundry? Because that's not happening."

He shook his head, his gaze flickering down to your lips and back up again. "No. I just think it'd suit you. Can't imagine that a woman who can barely cook for herself would be a good homemaker, anyway."

There was something in the way he said it—low, deliberate—that made your cheeks heat. "Oh, yeah?" you said, trying to play it cool. "What's the appeal? Oversized shirt, messy hair, looking like I just rolled out of bed?"

He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping just enough to make your heart race. "Exactly."

The air between you seemed to shift, the teasing suddenly laced with something more. You raised a brow, determined not to let him fluster you. "You've got a real thing for this, huh?"

"Maybe," he admitted, his smirk softening into something warmer. "Or maybe you'd look better without them – my clothes."

Your breath caught, your brain short-circuiting for half a second. "Aki," you gasped, smacking his shoulder.

He laughed, the sound rich and genuine, and you couldn't help but join him. It was absurd, but the way he was looking at you—like you were the only person in the world—made your heart feel too big for your chest.

The laughter faded, leaving behind a soft, lingering silence. Aki reached out hesitantly, his fingers brushing against your cheek before settling there. His thumb traced a faint line along your skin, and before you knew it, he was leaning in.

The kiss was slow at first, tentative, like he was testing the waters. But then you melted into it, your hands tangling in his hair as the world seemed to shrink down to just the two of you.

The laughter faded slowly, leaving behind a quiet that felt heavier, charged with something unspoken. Aki's hand lingered near your face, his fingers brushing your cheek with a gentleness that sent shivers down your spine. His dark eyes searched yours, flicking down to your lips for just a moment before meeting your gaze again. It was hesitant, almost as if he was waiting for permission, or perhaps the courage, to take the leap.

When he leaned in, it was slow—agonizingly slow. You could feel the warmth of his breath ghosting over your skin, and your own breath hitched, caught in your throat. Your heart raced in your chest, pounding so loudly that you were certain he could hear it. Then, finally, his lips met yours.

It started soft, barely there, like he was testing the waters. His lips were warm and a little chapped, and he kissed you with a careful kind of tenderness, as if you might break if he pressed too hard. The world seemed to tilt on its axis, narrowing until the only thing that existed was Aki—his hand on your cheek, the subtle press of his lips against yours, the faint scent of his cologne wrapping around you.

As the kiss deepened, the hesitance melted away. Aki's hand slid from your cheek to the back of your neck, his fingers threading into your hair, pulling you closer. His other hand came to rest lightly on your waist, his touch grounding and electrifying all at once. You felt yourself leaning into him, your hands finding their way to his shoulders, then tangling in his hair. It was soft and slightly messy between your fingers, and you found yourself smiling into the kiss, overwhelmed by the realization of how much you'd wanted this.

Aki tilted his head slightly, deepening the kiss further, and a quiet, almost inaudible sound escaped him—a soft sigh that sent warmth coursing through your entire body. His lips moved against yours with a newfound confidence, slow but deliberate, like he was savoring every moment. The kiss wasn't hurried or desperate; it was something else entirely. It was an exploration, a quiet confession, a promise.

You broke away for the briefest moment, gasping for air, but Aki didn't let you go far. His forehead rested against yours, his breath heavy and uneven, mingling with your own in the small space between you. His thumb brushed along your jawline, a gesture so gentle it made your chest ache (and your stomach feel warm).

You opened your eyes, meeting his. His cheeks were flushed, his lips slightly swollen, and his usually guarded expression was wide open, unfiltered. He looked at you like you were the only thing in the world that mattered, and it made your heart stutter.

Then, without saying a word, he kissed you again, softer this time, almost reverent. It was slower, more deliberate, like he was trying to commit the feel of you to memory. Your hands slid down to his chest, resting there as you kissed him back, matching his rhythm. Each touch, each movement felt like a silent conversation, one that didn't need words.

When you finally broke the kiss, you were both breathless, your faces still impossibly close. A laugh bubbled up from your chest, light and giddy, and Aki's lips quirked into a small smile.

"Wait," you murmured, your voice breathy but tinged with excitement.

Aki blinked, his brows furrowing slightly as he tried to steady his breathing. "What?" he asked, his voice soft, like he was reluctant to break the moment.

You grinned, already sitting up. "I have an idea."

Aki groaned, though there was a hint of amusement in his tone. "Why do I feel like this is going to end with me regretting it?"

You shot him a mischievous look over your shoulder as you headed for his closet. "Oh, ye of little faith. Trust me."

Aki's closet was so... him. It was a sea of neatly-pressed sweaters, tees, and shirts – black, white, grey, navy blue, for the most part, with only a few exceptions. You reached for the tie he had hung up there only a few hours earlier, wrapping it around your knuckle.

"What are you doing in there?" He inquired.

With a grin, you hid the wound-up tie behind your back, sauntering back out into the master bedroom.

He looked at you how a mother looked at her child's mud pie – with his brows knitted and the faintest hint of a smirk on his face. Slowly, he asked, "What's that?"

You stepped towards the bed, crawling towards him until you were straddling his narrow waist. He peered up at you through those confused blue eyes of his, but humored you nevertheless. Rather than glorifying him with an answer, you leaned down, pressing a kiss to his lips. Then another. By the third, he was reaching for you, and you were prying his hands off of you to pin them to the pillow atop his head.

His eyes widened, glinting with mischief, "Where are you going with this?"

"So many questions," You shushed him. Taking the balled up tie into your hand, you wound it around the headboard of Aki's bed, bringing it back down to wrap around his wrists before finishing it off with a knot. Aki, shockingly enough, allowed you without a word of protest.

He looked pretty all of the time – just to be clear – but you couldn't help but think that he looked prettiest when he was underneath you, hair splayed out over the pillow, face dusted with a pretty shade of pink, eyes half lidded as he awaited your next move.

You leaned down, capturing his lips in another kiss, this one slower, deeper, lingering just long enough to leave him chasing after you when you pulled back. His breath hitched, and his chest rose beneath you as he tilted his head up, silently asking for more.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you ?" you teased, brushing your thumb over the delicate curve of his cheek.

"Maybe," he murmured, the corner of his lips twitching into a smirk. His voice was soft, tinged with a slight tremor that betrayed the calm he was trying to project.

You rocked your hips against him, slow and deliberate, eliciting a soft whine from his lips. The sound sent a shiver through you, and you couldn't resist the urge to do it again, drawing out another gasp as his body tensed beneath you.

"A little excited, are we?" you murmured, lips brushing against his ear.

His cheeks flushed deeper, but he didn't look away. Instead, his half-lidded eyes locked onto yours, brimming with a mix of embarrassment and undeniable want. He was harder than a boulder beneath your hips already, and you hadn't done much. He tugged lightly against the tie securing his wrists, testing the knot, but you pressed your palms to his chest, holding him still.

"I didn't say you could move," you whispered, and he let out a shaky exhale, sinking back into the pillows.

When you leaned down to kiss him again, he met you halfway, lips parting eagerly against yours. His breath came faster now, and his head tilted to follow your movement, as if desperate to close every fraction of distance. The soft, needy sounds he made as you rocked against him grew louder, sending a heat rushing through you.

"Patience, Aki," you murmured against his lips, though your resolve was starting to waver. His body beneath yours was intoxicating, the way he moved, the way he looked at you like you were the only thing he needed in the world.

"I don't think I have much of that left," he admitted, his voice breaking on a quiet moan as you shifted your weight just right.

You decided to test that theory, dragging your hips back and forth and back again until the two of you were panting like horny teens.

"I want you," He breathed, "I need you."

"Where do you need me?" You asked. Licking his neck, you teased, "Here?" A little lower, near his collarbone, "Here?" Another kiss to his stomach as you continued crawling down, "Here?" And one more just atop the tent in his pants, "...Here?"

He arched up, tented fabric brushing against your cheek so deliciously. "Please, I can't– I..." He sighed, chest rising and falling rapidly.

You pressed another kiss to his clothed cock, which jumped up playfully, tapping your lips like it had a mind of its own. Peering up at him through faux-innocent eyes, you purred, "What? Use your words."

He swallowed, "If you keep teasing me like that," He choked out a laugh while you mouthed at his dick through his pants. "I'm gonna...cream my pants like a fuckin' middle schooler."

"Would that be so bad?" You teased. (And, truthfully, you would be lying if you said you didn't want to see that just a little bit – the picture of his body arching up, eyes rolling back as he came prematurely with a cry of your name).

"Please," He groaned, and you knew exactly what he wanted.

"How about... right here?" You gripped the waistband of his pants, wiggling them down to his thighs. He was sporting a pair of navy blue boxers today – the cotton kind, fabric strained around his erection, stained darker at the tip by the tiniest little wet mark. Bracing your weight on your hands, you leaned down, placing a long, tender kiss to the spot.

Cute, you thought.

You wrapped your lips around the head of it, mouthing hungrily at him through the fabric. He opened his legs a little wider to accommodate you.

"Yes," He panted.

He wants more. You didn't want to keep him waiting. So, teasing your thumb beneath the waistband of his boxers and snapping the elastic against his navel once, you tugged his boxers down, finally freeing him from its confinement.

And there he was. Long and thick and flushed a pretty shade of pink at the tip, just as you had remembered. You wrapped a tentative hand around it, flitting your tongue over the head to collect the pretty little bead of precum that had bubbled up at the top. Once you were satisfied with that, with the salty taste of him, you gave it another lick.

"Don't be a tease," He warned you, though he was smiling the whole time.

Fine, then. You didn't bother pulling his pants the rest of the way down, or even acknowledging his comment. No, the moment the waistband was out of the way, you were swallowing him whole.

Aki exhaled sharply, nearly doubling over at the sensation of your warm mouth closing in around him. He felt the muscles in his abdomen tense with the strain of it – it felt like he could cum like this, with your lips stretched around him, and you didn't really think you (or him) would mind testing that theory.

His skin was hot. He burned for you – the same way you burned for him.

You pulled up. Sucking him back into your mouth, you hollowed your cheeks. Then you throated him again, right up until your nose brushed his navel. You felt him throb in your mouth.

"Fuck, 's good," He whimpered weakly, tugging at his makeshift restraints while you picked up the pace.

Up and down, up and down, fitting him all the way in until the head of his cock bumped the back of your throat. Until you were gagging on him, eyes watering from the stretch. Until your eyelids were fluttering shut.

He moaned for you – deep and velvety and, suddenly, you couldn't care less about his roommates that may or may not have been within earshot.

You made a noise in response, though it was broken up by the nasty, dirty sound you made every time you gagged on his dick. You peered up at him through half-lidded eyes, through long, wispy lashes, leaving a trail of saliva running down his thighs that you didn't even mind.

Aki squeezed his eyes shut, biting his lip. "Fuck," he panted, "You're– God."

You hovered over him, a mischievous gleam in your eyes as your lips wrapped around him. His body tensed, his muscles clenching instinctively under your touch, and his wrists strained desperately against the tie that kept them secured. His breath caught in his throat as he tried to shift beneath you, but there was no escape.

You sucked him into your mouth again, this time more deliberately, lingering longer than before – letting him sit in the back of your throat even though you ached with the strain of it. His stomach twitched beneath you, and you could feel the slight hitch in his breath, his chest rising and falling faster. A small whimper escaped him, muffled by his own lips, and it made your smirk grow wider. His laughter was nervous now, caught somewhere between amusement and helplessness, as your sucking grew harder and more insistent, trailing lower with every press of your mouth.

The hot air on his damp skin heightened the sensation, making him squirm even more. His body was betraying him—each lick, each slurp, teasing touch of your fingers up and down his inner thighs making it harder to hold back the rising wave of pleasure. You could see it in his face—the way his cheeks flushed deeper with each second, the way his breath became shallow, quick.

You didn't stop. Your lips brushed lower still, moving deliberately across his cock, lingering just enough around the base to hear the soft gasp from his lips, the quiet hitching of his breath every time your nose brushed against his navel. His hips bucked involuntarily against the bed, and the restraint of his wrists only seemed to make his movements more desperate. The feeling of vulnerability that hit him so suddenly was undeniable, and you couldn't help but feel the rush of satisfaction from the effect you had on him.

Every time your lips met his skin, it was more intense than the last. It was wetter now, a little messier, each movement of your head up and down his shaft seeming to linger just a bit longer, dragging out the sensation of exposure and teasing. You let your tongue flick out, just once, to trace the line of his skin where your lips had been. His body jumped at the contact, and you smiled at the way his muscles clenched in response.

He was completely at your mercy..

His face had turned pink now, the flush spreading across his neck and down his chest. He bit down on his lip, trying to stifle the sounds that threatened to spill from him, but his breath was ragged, his chest heaving beneath you. You could see the embarrassment burning through his attempts to keep himself composed.

He arched slightly, his back lifting off the bed as he tried to pull away from the sensation, but the restraints held him firmly in place. His throat tightened as he stifled another sound, but it escaped anyway—a soft, almost involuntary moan that only made you want to go harder. You could feel the heat of his skin against your lips, and you took your time, savoring each moment of his helplessness.

Before you could continue any further, his voice broke through, low and desperate. "Wait–" His wrists tugged once more against the tie, his body still aching from the restraint, his words barely audible. "Wait, I wanna try something different.

Finally, you paused, lifting your head just enough to let your breath linger over the trail you'd left behind. His chest heaved with the effort of trying to catch his breath, his eyes half-lidded in both frustration and something else—something you couldn't quite place, but you saw it in the way his pupils were dilated, the way his body still trembled beneath you.

You met his gaze, and for a moment, the playful tension in the room seemed to shift. There was a long, drawn-out silence between you, the only sound the echo of his breathing. You brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, your eyes never leaving his, watching the way he struggled to collect himself, his body betraying him every time he moved.

"My face," After sufficiently collecting his breath, he nodded, motioning for you to climb back up his torso. "Sit on it."

You relented, sitting back on your heels with a look of playful satisfaction. Your eyes never left him as you studied his flushed face, the way his breaths still came in shallow gasps. There was a brief moment where you almost felt bad—almost—but the thrill of seeing him so vulnerable, so exposed, left you feeling more alive than you had in a long time.

"You want me to..." You swallowed. "On your face?"

"Yeah."

He was quiet for a long moment, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he tried to steady himself. His face was still flushed that pretty shade of pink, his body still trembling slightly under the aftershocks of the tension. His wrists pulled gently at the tie again, though it wasn't to free himself anymore. It was to center himself, to find the control he had lost in the heat of the moment.

"What if I crush you?" You asked, hesitant to climb up there. Your ex husband was right about one thing – you had certainly put on a couple of pounds. The last thing you wanted was to break his nose, or something like that.

"Then I die a happy ma," He shrugged, pupils dilated, "Sit on my face."

You slowly untied the tie that held him, taking your time, watching him intently as you did. The look on his face was a mixture of relief and lingering frustration, and for a moment, you just watched him breathe, the soft sound of his pants filling the space between you.

"Okay," You sighed. "How do I...? How do we do this?"

"Turn around f'me and back it up," He chuckled. "You can start by taking those pants off."

"You want my ass all up in your face?" You quirked a brow. Still, a little uncertainly, you sat back onto your knees, wiggling your pants down and off of your legs. Then, huffing out a nervous breath, you turned around – straddling his legs, reverse cowgirl in nothing more than your panties. The air felt cold against the wet patch you had made in the fabric.

"You talk a lot, you know that?" He teased. "Come on. Back it up."

With a roll of your eyes, you crawled backwards – back and back, until your hips were hovering over his face, until you could feel the warmth of his breath against your clothed pussy. Until you were eye-to-eye with his cock, still hard and wet from your lips.

"Like this?" You asked. Your legs were shaking already just thinking about how this would go.

"No," He tutted. "Like this."

His hands snaked up to grip your hips. Then, without a word of warning, he pulled them down until you were flush up against his face. You could feel his lips as they pressed a hot kiss to your pussy through the drenched fabric – his pointed nose as it pressed deep into your cushiony lips.

You felt him hook a finger beneath the crotch of your panties. Then, he pulled them to the side.

"What are you...?" You trailed off. The moment his breath hit your bare skin, you were quiet, shuddering as a wonton gasp left your lips.

"Such a pretty pussy," He remarked. His tongue flitted out to lick a hot stripe up from your neglected clit to your entrance, and he moaned – fuck – moaned at the taste of you. His grip tightened ever-so-slightly, and then he was diving in, sucking your puffy clit into his mouth.

"Fuck!" You gasped out. This angle was strange, but not at all unwelcome. "Fuck me. Oh God, Aki–"

His roommates. You thought. Surely, any minute now, they would hear the two of you. So, sparing a glance to his twitching cock, you licked your lips and sucked the tip into your mouth. This will keep me quiet.

Keep you quiet it may have done, but him? He was another story.

The moment the head of his dick was back on your tongue, he was moaning into your slick pussy, pulling you right up against his mouth while he painted circles and shapes with the tip of his tongue all over your needy cunt. It was wet back there – wet enough that your pussy met no friction when you grinded against his face, smearing your juices everywhere.

So fucking hot.

You took him deeper into your mouth, softening up your tongue to allow him more room. Then, you began to deep throat him – take him all the way down to the base.

He responded in kind with a whine, lips wrapped around your clit in a way that had you seeing fucking stars. You rutted your hips back again, desperately seeking more of that searing, white-hot pleasure he was giving you.

He was sucking on you the way you liked – like you were a jawbreaker. Like you were a four-course meal and he was a starving patron.

A few minutes later, and you were getting close already. It was a combined effort from his skilled tongue and the sound of his pretty little moans and whimpers every time you throated him down. You didn't care that your eyes were watering, that your neck and mouth were beginning to ache with the strain. All that mattered was him – the feeling of his big hands gripping your ass in his hands, smacking the skin there every so often until you were gasping (more like gagging) around him.

And, judging by the way he was beginning to squirm, you knew he was close, too. You were determined – determined to make him cum before you did. So, in an effort to finish the job, you went at it a little faster.

Up and down, up and down, sucking and slurping and moaning around his dick – which left you no room to get out anything beyond a series of gurgled moans and groans. The feeling of ecstasy washed over you like the ocean's tide, pulling you further away from shore, deeper into its blue depths.

Aki reached down to tangle a fist in your hair. He grunted something along the lines of 'Good fuckin' girl' into your pussy, and then he was guiding your head up and down his shaft. A little faster now.

Sucking him back into your mouth, you hollowed your cheeks.

Aki sighed, throbbing in your mouth, growing bigger as you felt him get harder. In response to your ministrations, he tightened the suction around your clit, then loosened it again. It was all too much to handle – you felt like you were melting.

"Fuck," He panted, releasing the suction. His hips jumped up as he chased a little more of that release he desperately craved.

When his hand slipped behind his head to guide your head gently, bobbing you back and forth on his dick, you melted into him. You were struggling to fit the whole thing in your mouth, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, but you were determined. His shudders and sighs spurred you onward.

"Takin' it so well," He purred, guiding your head. "Gettin' me so close."

You felt that fire in your core reignite, thighs clenching around his pretty face while you pulled back for a moment to slurp on the tip rather unceremoniously, spit dripping down his dick. You tilted your head to the side, wrapping your hands around what you couldn't fit into your mouth to work the rest of him. Your tongue swirled around it like a lollipop.

You were putting in overtime.

As you braced your hands on his hips to sink your head the rest of the way down, you met some resistance, eyes watering as you felt yourself gag on him.

The muscles in Aki's thighs tensed. With a blissful sigh, he slipped a finger into your warmth. He felt so fucking good, it made your heart skip a beat – long, thick fingers sliding into you with little resistance, tongue working you up to an orgasm already.

"Oh, fuuuck..." He trailed off, then his hand fisted itself in your hair, and you felt yourself mewl. "'M so close, wait–"

(Of course, that only made you want to do it more). You wrapped your lips tighter around him, sucking him down until you were moaning around his length.

"God–" He sucked you back into his mouth, then departed from the wet flesh to shudder beneath you, "Oh, shit, I think I'm–" Another shudder, another tremble, then his hips were arching up off the bed, "Fuck–"

Then he came hard, crying out your name before he broke – popping in your mouth like bubblegum, shooting a warm load down the back of your throat. His grip on your hair tightened, as if he hadn't expected to finish so soon, and then he was huffing out a quiet, blissed out laugh. You swallowed it like it was your job.

"Got a little excited, did we?" You teased, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. Still, your voice was hoarse when you climbed off of him.

When you turned to face him, he didn't reply – chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. His hair was disheveled and his face was pink, glossy at the bottom where you had been seated. His blue eyes were wide and wild as he licked his lips.

Truthfully, you were okay with the fact that you hadn't finished. His reactions – feeling him arch up into you the way he did – were enough. He did not seem to share your sentiment, gazing at you like you were a slab of raw meat.

"Come here," He answered. "Ride my face, baby."

He's got some crazy stamina, you gaped at him.

Still, when he didn't revoke his statement, you began to smile. "Yeah?"

"Please," He pleaded with you.

You swung your leg over him slowly, careful and deliberate, as if you were testing the weight of the moment. The second you settled onto his chest, you felt everything shift. His body was warm beneath you, solid and unmoving, but the look in his eyes—dark, intense—sent a shiver racing down your spine.

You fidgeted, your fingers brushing over the hem of your shirt in a nervous, mindless gesture, trying to distract yourself from the way his gaze seemed to burn through you. His hair was a mess, sticking to his forehead in wild, disheveled strands, and his lips quirked into the faintest, laziest smirk. From here, you could see him – really see him, and he was fucking beautiful.

"Relax," he murmured, his voice low, teasing, but it did nothing to ease the flutter of nerves in your chest.

Then he smiled wider, letting his head fall back against the mattress while you settled your thighs around his face. Nervously, you lowered yourself down, hovering over him. "You look great from down here, by the way."

The words struck you like a physical touch, heat rushing to your cheeks. You opened your mouth, ready to shoot back something—anything—but before you could, his hands shifted at your sides, steadying your hips as he moved down on the bed.

The motion brought you off balance, your breath catching in a sharp gasp as you pressed your palms against the wall behind him to steady yourself. The closeness was overwhelming, his body beneath yours, his hands at your waist, his grin nothing short of devilish.

"Careful," he said, his voice soft but unmistakably amused.

"You're impossible," you shot back, your words trembling as much as your hands.

"And yet, here you are," he replied smoothly, his thumbs brushing gently against your sides, sending sparks skittering along your skin.

Before you could think of a retort, you felt it—a light, barely-there press of his lips against the most sensitive part of you. Your breath hitched, your entire body freezing in place as he tilted his head, his gaze flicking up to meet yours.

"You're so tense," he murmured, the warmth of his breath ghosting over your leg as he licked another long, hot stripe across it, this one slower, more deliberate.

Your knees tightened instinctively against his face, your pulse pounding so loudly you could barely hear the soft rumble of his laugh.

"What are you—" you started, but your voice faltered when he tilted his head again, wrapping his lips around your puffy pink clit and lavishing it with attention from his tongue..

He hummed, his tone maddeningly calm, even as his fingers slid up just a fraction, his grip on your ass a little firmer now.

Your chest tightened, the heat rushing from your cheeks to the pit of your stomach. "Fuck me, Aki" you managed to whisper, though your voice lacked the conviction you wanted it to have.

"I want to," he admitted, then went back to practically making out with your pussy, sending a jolt through your body.

You tried to move, tried to pull back and regain some semblance of control, but his hands steadied you, his grip strong but never forceful. Your breath hitched again as he looked up at you, his eyes locking onto yours. The intensity there made you forget what you were going to say, forget where you were entirely – at least, until you heard him slurping you up, gathering your juices onto his tongue.

"Aki, please, I–" You pleaded with the man. Your hand had found its way down to his head, gripping his damp, disheveled locks like your life depended on it. In a matter of seconds, he had single handedly reduced you to a babbling mess. "Mnnnh-"

He groaned into your flesh. With your thighs pressed against both sides of his head, he made for a pretty sight. His hair was tied into a back, though you had ruined most of it with your ruthless rutting. He did nothing to stop you as you clamped your legs over his ears, shamelessly riding his face – just as he had asked.

Prying your legs away from his face, Aki gasped for air. His face was flushed a pretty shade of red. His eyes were wild, lustful as your juices dripped off the sides of his face. "Never gettin' over how good you taste," he panted.

You lifted your hips away from his face in an attempt to make it easier for him to breathe. Your efforts were in vain. He gripped your hips harshly, seating you on his face and then continuing to eat you up like a man starved.

You found it difficult to pry your eyes away from him. He looked so happy to be trapped between your thighs like this, like he had been waiting ages for it. The way he sucked and slurped expertly at your dripping cunt had your legs trembling around him.

"Sit," he mumbled through a mouthful of your clit.

"Don't wann'... ngh," You leaned forward, bracing your hands over the bed frame while he dragged your hips back and forth, back and forth over his face until the friction was almost too much to bear. Every time his nose bumped your clit, you mewled, rutting your hips down. "G'nna crush you."

"Sit," he affirmed. "Ride my face."

"Aki– I'm close," You managed to get out through a string of broken moans.

He moaned, pushing your hips up against his nose. He never stopped his incessant licking and sucking, tongue working you up to what would be an earth shattering orgasm. Your pussy was sensitive, so sensitive, yet he wasn't going any easier on you. At this rate, you were convinced you would have to beg for mercy.

"Can't..." You panted. You weren't sure you could finish another time. You were sore, tired, and you were beyond overstimulated.

"C'mon, baby," he paused his desperate licking to beg. "You can do it for me."

You licked your lips, feeling tears begin to well at the corners of your eyes. It was all so much... too much. "I can't," you gasped.

"You can do it, baby," He purred. Sucking harshly on your clit – and then making up for it with a few gentle licks – he added. "Just one, okay?"

On cue, he slid his hands up to your waist, fingers digging into the skin on your waist. You weren't sure if you could take any more. You felt like you were going to fucking pass out.

"Aki, 'm gonna cum," You began, abruptly cutting your own sentence off with a gasp as slipped his tongue inside. "Fuck."

Aki's tongue was long, reaching deeper into you than you expected, and the angle certainly didn't make it better. Almost immediately, he had you arching up, thighs trembling as they clamped around his face, rubbing a slow, steady circle to ease you into the sudden intrusion before he began fucking it into you. You saw stars – and didn't stop moaning until he had to pry your legs open.

You raised your head off the bed, trying to rest your weight on your trembling hands, atop his bed frame so you could get a good look at him.

You would never forget the sight of him below you like that. His hair – despite having been ruined by your legs – framed his pretty face the same way it usually did. His face was dusted with a gentle, rosy hue again.

You were embarrassed, oddly enough, and laid your head down to cover your face with your hands. He couldn't be real. There was no way this was real. It was too good to be true.

"Oh my fucking God–" you stammered. "'M gonna cum– I'm gonna cum!"

He parted from your pussy with an obscene slurp, "Come on, baby– Cum all over my face."

And cum on his face you sure did. Instantaneously, somehow, he licked the right spot – just the right amount of pressure – then it snapped. The coil of your release snapped with all of the power of a freight train, your orgasm slamming into you in a way that had your back arching up off of the bed.

Your hips jolted up against his fingers and his tongue, lips chanting his name like a mantra while feeling every last stroke of his warm tongue against your pussy.

You could feel the shock tear through you in waves, tearing trembling gasps from your lungs while you expelled your juices all over his face and the bed. "Aki," you gasped again once the pleasure had cleared long enough for you to think. Not your soon-to-be-ex-husband, Aki.

"Oh, God, I made a fuckin' mess," You said, teetering between a gasp and a laugh.

Aki chuckled, his voice low and breathless, and somehow even in this state, he was devastatingly gorgeous. His hair stuck to his damp forehead, his cheeks flushed, and his lips curved into the kind of smile that sent warmth flooding through you. "You're so fucking hot, you know that?" he murmured, his tone both teasing and sincere.

You let out a huff of laughter, shaking your head as you tried to gather your thoughts. But then you looked at him—really looked at him. His head was tilted back against the pillow, his eyes half-lidded but still shining with that unmistakable adoration he always seemed to have when he looked at you. Blissed out and in love, he looked utterly wrecked in the best possible way.

Your gaze flicked down to the pillow beneath him, and you couldn't help but cringe. A mess, indeed. The sight of it—the tangled sheets, the cotton of his pillowcase drenched, the faint evidence of your chaotic moment—was enough to make your cheeks burn again.

When you looked back up at Aki, he was already watching you, his expression softening into something lighter, something playful. For a second, neither of you said anything, just staring at each other like you couldn't believe what had just happened. Then, almost simultaneously, your eyes darted back to the pillow, and it hit you both at once.

You snorted first, trying to stifle the sound with your hand, but Aki wasn't far behind. His laughter started low, rumbling in his chest, before it grew into something freer, more unrestrained.

"Oh my God," you wheezed, doubling over as the giggles took over, your body shaking with the force of it. "Look at this—how the hell are we gonna clean that up?"

"I'll toss it in tonight, but we'll be sleeping without a pillow tonight" he managed to say between breaths, his voice breaking with laughter. "Oh, shit."

That sent you into another fit of giggles, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as you leaned forward, burying your face in his shoulder. "Stop," you gasped, "Don't be a fucking dick."

a/n: there it is!! the chapter i've been busting my ass over. i hope it came out good omg, i feel like its terrible but i be way too hard on myself. i wanted to take some time to let you know that I'm currently writing the Aki fanfic that will replace this one once it's all wrapped up -- you can read the first chapters on my profile, it's called Call Out My Name, and it's about a fake marriage that leads to very real feelings (sorta enemies to lovers but not rlly, aki's just bad at expressing himself lol). I would greatly appreciate it if you could go give it a read!! If you loved Shameless, you'll love that one, too!!! Of course, though, nothing will ever replace Shameless in my heart. I love this story too damn much, and I adore the community I've built up on here. Thank you for all of the love so far!! Comment and let me know what y'all thought of this chapter, and maybe even what you hope to see in future ones!! QOTD: have you streamed Rauw Alejandro's new album? Also, is 69 actually an efficient position? (And why is the answer no).

credits: UNKOWN ATM. I found the cover pic on pinterest unfortch. If you know the artist, please let me know, so I can credit them properly for their work!!! This is NOT MY BEAUTIFUL DRAWINGGG. I obviously do not own csm or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

also: come find me on my wattpad if u wanna interact more!

taglist: @mitsuyeahhh , @sleepysnk , @enneadec , @noaabean , @em1e , @drakensdarling , @bertholdts--butt , @satanlovesusall666 , @mitsuwuyaa , @noctifule , @scaraphobia , @ask-the-insect-hashira , @lovingranchturkeyweasel , @bontensbabygirl , @slvdsjjk , @novacrystalli , @hanmastattoos , @kodzuksn , @hqtiny , @ohmaiscool15 , @redlittlequeen , @leivane , @goldeneagles-posts , @yeahblahlame , @no-oneelsebutnsu , @cookiesandcreammy , @cawwn , @the-haitani-baton , @littlelovebug98 , @armani78 , @mindurownbussines , @kokos-property , @violetmatcha , @hp-simp505 , @acethebrave , @mitsuyeahhh , @sleepysnk , @enneadec , @noaabean , @em1e , @drakensdarling , @bertholdts--butt , @satanlovesusall666 , @mitsuwuyaa , @noctifule , @scaraphobia , @ask-the-insect-hashira , @lovingranchturkeyweasel , @bontensbabygirl , @slvdsjjk , @novacrystalli , @hanmastattoos , @kodzuksn , @hqtiny , @ohmaiscool15 , @redlittlequeen , @leivane , @goldeneagles-posts , @yeahblahlame , @no-oneelsebutnsu , @cookiesandcreammy , @cawwn , @the-haitani-baton , @littlelovebug98 , @armani78 , @mindurownbussines , @kokos-property , @violetmatcha , @hp-simp505

wanna join the taglist? | shameless ; chapter index

#notiddygxthgf ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚#shameless!#aki x reader #aki hayakawa x reader #hayakawa aki x reader #csm x reader #chainsaw man x reader #aki fluff #aki smut #denji #aki hayakawa

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leahnardo-da-veggie · 1 day ago

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Cia's Wonderful Day Out, part 3

Part 1, Part 2 (Also, if you liked this, you can check out Convenience Store Vampire, featuring some familiar faces!)

****

It was hard to decipher the emotions of an insectoid Fae, but there was a glimmer of fascination in their multifaceted eyes. “A bank robbery, you say? What happened?”

Ciaran shook his head. “Damned if I know. Cops pulled me over, showed me a video of my evil twin pulling a flame-wand on some poor bank teller, and claimed it was me. Twelve hours I spent telling them that I wasn't a fucking bank robber, Anise. Twelve. Accursed. Hours.”

“An evil twin? That sounds like the work of a shifter,” Dave said, pulling up a chair. He was the quintessential vampire, something Ciaran always envied. Black hair slicked back, his Smiley-Mart uniform covered up by a long trench coat, red eyes rimmed with slight eye bags. Balancing right between tradition and modernity. “Hey, Cia.”

Ciaran did not bother correcting him this time. “Hey Dave,” he muttered. “You think it was Hash who decided to pull that crap?”

“Not Hash, but perhaps someone she knows? The shifter community is tiny, or so I've heard. Haven't even met another one of her kind,” he replied. “Besides, Hash isn't that mean.”

Ciaran narrowed his eyes. “Yes, she is. You go ask her if she knows anyone who went on a thieving spree recently, shall you? I'm not in a mood to talk to that crazy man right now.”

“What am I, your pageboy?” Nonetheless, Dave got up and walked away. Benefits of being an elder vampire, Ciaran supposed. All the littles listened to him.

He looked glumly into his glass, listening with one ear to the conversation that ensued.

“Say, have any of your kindred run around robbing banks recently? Asking for a friend.” That was Dave, ever the eloquent spy.

“Mah what-now?” Hash, her words more slurred than usual.

“Your kind. You know, shifters?”

“Yeah. What about them?” Her accent dropped suddenly. Ciaran had always suspected that she was faking it.

“Did any of them rob a bank? Maybe wearing Ciaran's face?”

Hash choked on her drink and spun around. “Are you accusing me of impersonating you, Ciaran Kerall?” It was the first show of anger he'd ever seen in her, and through the shock of the accusation, Ciaran found it in himself to take some joy in being the source of her upset.

Perhaps this day wasn't wasted, after all.

She stormed over, slowly growing taller as she did so. By the time she was at his side, the tiny little elf had been replaced by a lean, menacing man. “Care to say it to my face, instead of sending little Davie to do your job?”

“I’ve got many things to accuse you of, Hash, most of them true. Impersonation isn't one of them. I sent Dave to ask you a question. Or are you too stupid to understand that?” He punctuated his words with a sharp tap on her skull.

She slapped his hands away. “Go fuck yourself, Ciaran. Are you trying to pick a fight? Because if a fight's what you want, I assure you that you're going to regret it.”

“A fight's not what anyone wants.” Unknown to either of them, Anise had crossed the bar and was suddenly inserting themself between the would-be fighters. “I don't serve children in this house, so act like adults, will you? Let's try this from the top. Ciaran, what did you want to ask?”

Ciaran gave them a dirty look. “I got pulled in by the exorcists this morning. They claimed someone identical to me robbed a bank, and their proof was that I was on the cameras doing… Well, whatever it is bank robbers do.”

“But that evidence is obviously invalid, ‘cos vamps like you don't show up on cams or mirrors,” Hash interjected like the irritating little interloper she was.

“Yes, if you'd just let me get to that part,” he snapped back. “As I was saying, this led me-”

“That was me, actually,” Dave said, interjecting again. He was picking up all these bad habits from that horrible little shifter, Ciaran thought. “I said that it might be a shape shifter, and we ought to ask you. I swear, nobody meant any harm.”

Hash looked to him, and immediately softened. “I'm sorry,” she said. “That was uncharitable of me, ah guess. My bad.”

“Please don't slip into that accent again,” Ciaran responded.

Once again, she ignored him. “No’ that we've resolved this little squabble, ah guess I oughta break the news to ya. Couldn't ‘ave been a shifter, cos there ain't any in this city. Apart from me, that is.”

“What?”

Tagging: @coffeeangelinabox, @dorky-pals, @calliecwrites, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @shukei-jiwa

@thewingedbaron, @pluppsauthor, @cowboybrunch, @wylloblr,

@possiblyeldritch @tragedycoded, @finickyfelix, @urnumber1star, @ratedn,

@ramwritblr @vampirelover890, @possiblylisle, @illarian-rambling, @the-ellia-west,

@differentnighttale @evilgabe29, @glitched-dawn, @rivenantiqnerd, @dragonhoardesfandoms,

@abiteofhoney @drchenquill, @everythingismadeofchaos, @dimitrakies, @beloveddawn-blog

@riveriafalll, @the-golden-comet, @rascaronii, @trippingpossum, @real-fragments

@unrepentantcheeseaddict, @the-inkwell-variable, @paeliae-occasionally, @an-indecisive-nerd, @thecomfywriter

@seastarblue, @wyked-ao3, @bookwormclover, @oliolioxenfreewrites, @aalinaaaaaa

@the-letterbox-archives, @gioiaalbanoart (Anyone else who wants to get added can tell me in the comments, pm me, or send me an ask about it!)

#Nothing funnier than Hash carting around a fake accent until you piss her off #It's a very obviously fake one too. And it's not like she isn't a master of disguise; woman defo knows how to mimic a proper Pal accent #She's just doing it for shits and giggles. And I love her for it #writing #writeblr #my writing #writerscommunity #creative writing #writing community #spilled ink #fantasy #short story

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the-judicial-assistants-notebook · 3 months ago

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why didn't they just use franziska for literally all of this.

#freya talks aai2 #my goals of not being a forgotten/forsaken hater are not going well. he goes from 'kay is a dear ACQUAINTANCE' to 'i've not known her for #very long but i know she'd never kill anyone' to 'you are the kay i know so well' in the span of a few hours and it's like.#okay so you know it was too early in their acquaintanceship for this to really make sense but you still wanted a 'deep' and 'meaningful'#relationship to take the lead in this plotline. his sister is literally right there. it wouldnt have been hard to swap her in either because #she's literally investigating the smuggling situation. it would make perfect sense for her to be there following a lead instead of suddenly #revealing kay's promise notebook went missing. im not saying that the super-gentle super-meek persona would have made more sense with #franziska but honestly it wouldnt have made sense with any of them because it's more a caricature of a character rather than being an actual #previously unseen facet of one but you could've done so many more interesting things with franziska! she has an actual personal stake in #edgeworth's decision to continue as a prosecutor or not and we could get actual insight into how her own relationship with prosecuting and #its inextricable link to her father has affected her as a person. like when you show amnesiac kay the prosector badge all she says is that #it feels heroic warm and familiar like someone she knew used to show it to her often. and like cool. it's basically telling us she and her #father were close. which we already knew. imagine if franziska had said something like that or had had a more complex reaction. there would #be so many avenues to go with that!! you'd even be able to delve deeper into what edgeworth thinks about it all. like what if franziska was #just. happier. without her memories. then you'd have a story where edgeworth has to reckon with whether it might be kinder to let her live a #different life where she's unburdened by literally everything she's been made to go through and give her the same opportunity of starting #over that he now has.#im just writing fanfiction at this point but like. the amnesia plot is so frustrating to me HAHA they dont even do anything interesting with #it!! it's just oh she's lost her memories and we need to get them back because she's not 'herself' anymore without any discussion of like.#the nature of identity or living as who other people know you as vs whoever you might actually be #WHEN THE WHOLE CASE IS ABOUT EDGEWORTH DECIDING ON HIS PATH FORWARDS AND GRAPPLING WITH BEING THE PROSECUTOR EVERYONE HAS KNOWN HIM AS #whatever. WHATEVER.#annotations #some people might argue so it's not rehashing old conflict between franziska and edgeworth and like ok. she literally repeats her 'are you #running away from me again' line during this case. does that sound like the words of resolved conflict?#i know WHY they use kay. it's because they need to justify her place in this game and because they want to play on the pseudo father-figure #thing they played up in aai2 to contribute to the overall themes of fatherhood this game is dealing with. and to that i have to say that i #might just not be the audience for it because i've never bought that version of their relationship and i dont think kay should be in aai2 #anyway. plus i posit that franziska would've still worked for that theme because. literally everything. about her.

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emmi-kat · 1 year ago

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I did several rounds of vacation bible school and also Sunday school when I was visiting my grandma over summer/fall/winter/spting breaks and, legitimately, the only reference in this post that I personally can identify is Jesus' crown of thorns?

Being raised by areligious jews with 0 exposure to christianity outside pop culture is so fun. One time I asked my ex-catholic friend why a picture of jesus had a bristle crown and she looked at me like I was insane. One time I heard someone mention the "lance of longinus" and responded, word for word, "Like from Evangelion?" One time during a history lesson my professor described an important monk and scholar as "Dominican" and I spent the rest of class super confused and hung up on it because I was very sure that the Dominican Republic didn't meaningfully exist as an entity back then, maybe she meant he was a native Taino or something but that's a weird way to say that and I'm pretty sure this was pre- European contact? Really fucks people up when they realize I genuinely have no idea.

#Chtistianity #Ngl I was NOT paying attention #I was just in it for the juice and cookies #But you'd think more of this would sound familiar?

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ozzgin · 9 months ago

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Yandere! House Monster x Reader (II)

It’s officially a smutty sitcom: you, the oblivious gamer boyfriend, and the tentacle monster lurking in dark corners.

[First part]

Content: gender neutral reader, monster smut

Do monsters have a sense of humor? This creature seems to be greatly amused by the little "game" you've devised behind your boyfriend's back. Although you don't have much input in the affair, and most of the time you're merely a witness to the events unfolding before you (or in you).

First, there's the mild, inoffensive annoyances. "Babe, did you see my controller? I swear I left it on the couch". Some pranks are harder to swallow than others, such as the occasional lack of Internet. You know exactly when it happens, because you can hear your boyfriend's enraged shouts and rattles. It's always during important matches. No one knows why it happens. The repairmen who cross your threshold can only scratch their heads in confusion, confessing that nothing is out of the ordinary.

Then, the unfortunate coincidences. "How about we have some fun after my game?", the boyfriend will suggest with an anticipative grin. Alas, moments after he stands up, he is overwhelmed by a nauseous feeling. His stomach twirls and throbs, and he curses under his breath. "Some other time, perhaps", he concludes begrudgingly. You see, the creature is very possessive. The only thing that has saved your beloved partner from being torn to shreds already is his crassly comical obliviousness.

The mischief aimed towards the boyfriend is, however, a secondary source of entertainment. Nothing could ever come close to spending time with you. Yet another irony to this ridiculous situation: you haven't been caught yet, despite the rabid clinginess of the tentacled monster.

It just loves surprising you. For example, when you exhale dramatically at the end of the day, relaxing in the bathtub and enjoying your peace. Just as you hear an impatient knock on the door, you notice a familiar dark tendril slithering its way out of the water. You won't be leaving the bathroom anytime soon. "Did you steam yourself over there? You look like a lobster", the boyfriend will remark with a raised eyebrow upon seeing your panting, feverish face. "Y-yeah, I guess so." You limp outside, struggling to hold the towel around your body. Or more specifically, around the many marks left on your skin by hundreds of suckers.

In fact, its shamelessness reminds you of a poorly written erotic scenario, the likes you'd see on some adult website with a clickbait title. How would you name this current setup? You grip the edge of the table, pursing your lips to prevent any moans escaping your mouth. Your boyfriend is, once again, scrolling on his phone, indifferent to your presence. The water boiling on the stove drowns the wet, slippery sounds of the appendages pumping in and out of you underneath the table. “You might want to give it a stir in a moment, or it’ll overflow”, the boyfriend remarks without lifting his gaze. You mumble in agreement, slapping a hand over your mouth. You’re at your limit.

One may be tempted to ask, is this entity bound to its house? You pondered the same question until your recent IKEA visit. You and your boyfriend had been looking for a new wardrobe. "What do you think of this one?", you asked, closing the door and turning around. Your eyes scanned the empty model-bedroom. The jackass had wandered ahead without you. You sighed and were about to go find him, when a cold grip suddenly tightened around your wrist. You winced and snapped your head back. Thick tendrils had made their way out of the closet, tugging you to join them inside. So it can follow you around, you thought, climbing into the cramped space. Between the silent whines and breathy begging, an idea emerges from your dazed mind. New hypothetical video title: mercilessly molested in the IKEA store by monster partner.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere x you #yandere monster #yandere monster x reader #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere imagines #monster x reader #monster x human #monster boyfriend #tentacle monster #monster smut #terato #teratophillia #monster fucker

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stunie · 7 months ago

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“GONNA SHOW HIM YOU’RE MINE.”

WINDBREAKER BOYS + LOVE BITES. ft. togame jo, hayato suo, kaji ren, sakura haruka, & umemiya hajime x f!reader

filled request: “Can I request for umemiya, sakura, suo, and kaji where they see reader with another guy friend and they get jealous because the guy is being flirty and obviously trying to make moves but reader is dense so then the boys give reader a hickey for the first time to show that reader is taken??”

mdni ! suggestive. 1.5K WC ; added togame ! :>

TOGAME JO. pet name ‘doll’ used!

“Him again?”

You adjust the straps of your top before twisting and turning to get a better look at your outfit. “Mhm,” you hum in response. “Said he needed help asking someone out today. I’m gonna help pick the flowers.”

Togame's eyes narrow a bit at the obvious intent of your friend. It didn’t help that you really didn't have a single clue in the world, and on top of your obliviousness— you're dressed so cute.

The combination was just a recipe for disaster, and he wants to finally put an end to it today.

“Ah— what are you doing?” You yelp when he suddenly tugs at your wrist, pulling you off balance as you stumble and fall onto his lap. His arm comes to loop around your waist before you can even stabilize yourself, hugging you tight against his chest.

“Togame, let go.” You whine, “I’m gonna be late!”

“Don’t wanna.”

The casualty of his tone makes your eyebrow twitch. He almost sounds bored with how slow the words come out of his mouth, and despite that fact, his arm doesn’t seem to budge at all when you try and push against him.

“Plus…..” he’s choosing to ignore your efforts to move him— or he just doesn’t notice them in the first place. “You don’t need to meet with a guy like that anyway.”

“And why is that?” You retort, arms crossing in frustration as you give up and resort to simply glaring back at your boyfriend. “..Are you jealous?”

“Course I am, doll.” He grins, fingers pulling your top’s strap out of the way before his lips attach themselves to the side of your neck, sucking at the skin as you shiver. His hand tilts your jaw to the side, giving him the space he needs to better suckle and kiss your neck.

You can’t help the little noise that slips out when he releases the skin with a loud pop, exhaling deeply against you before peppering kisses beside the dark mark he's given you.

“Can’t stand when guys are tryna get at what's mine.”

HAYATO SUO. reader described as having hair you can hold up (ie moving it to adjust a necklace)

“That friend of yours..” Suo coos against the shell of your ear, “really likes you, doesn’t he?”

He’s looming right over you, his familiar smile looking a little different today when his arms are caging you right beneath him, and you suck in a sharp breath when he leans down, tassel earrings tickling the sensitive skin of your neck.

“H-huh? He does?” your voice comes out a little breathless from the way his lips are just barely hovering over your skin.

“He does. You couldn't tell?”

In any other situation, he would think your innocence would be endearing. But after watching your friend get all close to you like that, holding your hair up and then fixing your necklace for you— he couldn't help it. A part of him is thankful for how steady his voice comes out, because you'd never be able to guess that just below his calm exterior- he was absolutely fuming with jealousy.

“No, I didn't know.” You whisper. “But you know I would've turned him down if he said anything-”

“I can help with that.” He interrupts, tone sweet and soothing. He plants a kiss just below your ear, his breath grazing your ear, and it sends a shiver straight down your spine.

“H-how?” you squeak.

You can feel him smile against you before his hand comes to tilt your head to the side, exposing more of your neck for him. “Just like this.” He whispers before he's taking a sharp inhale, lips latching onto you as he sucks harshly.

The noise that comes out of you riles him up even more. He’s sucking harder before he even realizes, calm demeanor crumbling just a bit when he hears the noises you’re making just for him.

You think you felt his teeth graze your neck for a second when he releases the skin, pulling back a bit to admire the mark he’s left on your neck.

“It’s a good idea, right? Turn your head the other way for me now.”

KAJI REN. calls you ‘my girl.’

“W-what's wrong, Kaji?” You manage to stammer between kisses. “You’re a lot rougher today— is something on your mind?”

He pulls back a bit when your hands tug at his hair, a part of him content when he sees the way your lips are slightly swollen, your mouth parted to catch your breath as your chest rises up and down from the intensity.

There was a lot on his mind, but marking you up was at the forefront of his brain. He could already tell that only kissing you just wasn’t gonna cut it after all that’s happened today.

“‘S fine.” He mutters before he’s back on top of you, his lips roughly latching onto the skin just beneath your collarbone, sucking at the skin as you gasp above him. “Oh— t-that feels good,” your voice comes out as a breathy sigh, “are you… mad still?”

“Mad at that friend of yours.” He growls against your skin, pressing a quick kiss onto the mark until he's moving onto another part of your neck, lips hovering just below your ear. “He was tryna get at my girl right in front of me.”

“I’m sure he wasn't— ah!” You gasp when his arms wrap around your middle, pulling you flush against his body as he tilts his head to better nestle into the crook of your neck.

“Got me pissed off just seeing him looking at you like that.” His teeth graze against your skin when he sucks particularly hard. “Gonna make sure he’ll get a nice and close look at these next time.”

SAKURA HARUKA.

Kissing Sakura is much, much different today.

He’s rough— hands trailing along your back, sending an shiver straight down your spine as he deepens the kiss, breaths mingling with urgency. The way he’s kissing you so desperately today has little gasps escaping your lips, which do nothing but encourage him to touch you more.

“F-fuck,” he gasps between kisses, pulling back to inhale sharply before your fingers come to tangle in his hair, pulling him right back into you.

“Someone's in a bad mood.” You giggle, and he scoffs in response, a dusting of pink over his cheeks. “‘M not mad.”

“You sure? What’s got you so worked up?”

And he hates that he doesn't know. He doesn't know what this feeling is, so he has no idea how to get rid of it. All he knows is that it didn't feel nice when he saw your friend all up over you.

It should've been him instead— he thinks. And all he wants now is to have you.

Your breath hitches in your throat when his lips begin to trace a path down your neck, pressing wet kisses between each inch of skin. “I don't know,” he admits through a deep blush, “just want…this.”

Just thinking about the earlier events makes his blood boil again, and it shows in his next kiss. He accidentally sucks at your neck for a moment, and a lewd moan slips right through your lips.

Your hand slaps over your mouth a moment too late, and he freezes in place, deep blush spreading to his ears at the sound. He’s never heard you never make that noise before.

“D-don't stop, Sakura,” you urge, tugging at his hair, “feels good.”

He pulls back a bit to roughly shake his head, shake off the irritating blush before his eyes finally flicker towards the subtle mark he’s left on your skin. It’s a deep shade of purple, and something about it makes him feral— it scratches at the itch he’s had all day.

He doesn’t think he’ll be stopping anytime soon, at least.

“F-fine,” he growls. “Turn your head.”

UMEMIYA HAJIME.

Umemiya sighs when your phone buzzes again, the sound catching your attention as you scroll to check your messages again. You’re leaning back against ume's chest when you open it, letting him rest his head on your shoulder with a dramatic pout.

“He’s tryna steal you away from me,”’he whines, arms hugging tightly around your core. “S no fair.”

How you were able to reduce bofurin's strongest— the one standing at a staggering 6’2 to a needy little puppy is beyond him. But in his defense, he thinks he's been waiting for your attention for ages by now.

It seems like the second you're finally putting down your phone to turn your attention to him is the exact moment your friend decides to send yet another message, your phone buzzing from the notification— and your attention shifts back to that guy just like that.

It’s a never ending loop, and he's getting desperate.

“He’s not, Haji,” you mumble, fingers clicking at your screen. “He’s just my friend. And he’s asking to get dinner with everyone tomorrow.”

You don't notice the way his bottom lip pokes out in a pout, eyes then narrowing into a glare directed at your screen before he's pulling you a bit closer to himself, arms holding you impossibly tighter against his chest.

It really wasn’t fair.

It only takes a few more seconds of pouting before his eyes suddenly flicker to the bare skin of your neck, and he perks up when he thinks of an idea. A great idea.

“..Are you gonna go with them? Tomorrow?”

You give him a nod, and if Umemiya had a tail— it would be wagging now. His lips start to excitedly ghost over your skin, taking in the scent of your perfume, and his gaze is focused and intentional as he tries to gauge your reaction.

Nothing, so far.

So he presses an experimental kiss onto your shoulder, eyes watching you closely— and still nothing. You only perk up a bit when he finally decides to proceed with his plan and takes the skin in his mouth, sucking at it for a bit before releasing it with a lewd pop.

"Haji— d-did you just leave a mark?”

“I did.” He’s grinning now, staring at the mark he's left— and he thinks it's surprising dark for how gentle he was. It was only the first one tonight, after all.

“Want another one?”

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vivimura · 15 days ago

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PAIRING ~ bf!nrk x gf!reader

SUMMARY ~ riding riki's abs cuz he's too damn hot doing crunches.

GENRE ~ smut, pwop(?).

WORD COUNT ~ 1.302k

ᯓ★ love the banner for this ngl. not my best work:( but it was requested so here

visiting your boyfriend's apartment to be met with the sight of him shirtless, doing crunches in his room was definitely a welcome you'd want to see more often.

you'd blame ovulation, but something about seeing the beads of sweat dripping down the pattern of his abs made you feel a certain tingle in a place sinfully up between your legs.

with a cool facade, you flashed a soft smile, settling your bag down in its usual place and unwrapping the winter layers you had on. “working hard, huh, riki?” you teased, but it was mostly just a mere attempt of hiding and distracting yourself from your fluster and desires.

"mm." he responded with the short, low hum that you couldn't decipher as a yes or a no. his breath came out in rhythmic puffs, hands clasping each other as he pushed himself up and down. he wasn't exactly talkative when he was 'in the zone', but the hint of a smirk curled on his lips as he looked up at you. "you're just on time. i was getting lonely." his little complaint earned a mostly playful scoff from you. “geez, i was gone for one hour because somebody refuses to be a grown up and get their own groceries.”

having had familiarity with his bedroom, you made your way to sit on the edge of the bed beside where he was on the floor without having to look up.

he groaned as he sat up, rolling his head from side to side to ease the strain in his neck, flexing his abdominal muscles by accident as he did. "mm. i hate grocery shopping." he retorted back quickly, his eyes settling on you. his gaze was intense, filled with a bit of annoyance and something else, something that you knew from experience would lead to your clothes being tossed to the floor in a messy pile.

with his new position, came the delicious little sight of his sweaty strands of overgrown bangs sticking to his forehead, his glistening flexed muscles and the naturally prominent tent in his gray sweats.

you cleared your throat, ‘discreetly’ looking back up at his eyes.

“you’re just too childish.” you countered, ending your sentence by hypocritically sticking out your tongue in a childish manner.

he rolled his eyes at that, the smirk on his lips growing a bit wider as he rose to his feet, taking slow and deliberate strides towards you. he towered over you, forcing you to look up in his eyes as he stepped between your legs, pinning you against the edge of the bed with his arms on either side. "mm, really." he chuckled at that, his eyebrows raising. "keep sticking your tongue out like that and i'll find a better use for it."

oh, he knew what he was doing. you swallowed thickly at the implications of his words, but scoffed sassily. but god, his abs were right there, in front of your face, glistening in a way that made you wish it was something other than his sweat.

“whatever. you’re sweaty and stinky, go take a shower.” it was a lame excuse, but at that point you’d try every bit you could to escape the situation.

riki chuckled again, amused at your attempt to keep him from sensing how his very presence was already making you want to throw your clothes off. he leaned in close, so that his nose was practically grazing yours. "that doesn't sound like the nicest thing you could say to your boyfriend who's been working so hard in the hot summer heat, now does it?" he teased back, a smirk on his lips and an obvious mischief in his eyes.

“and what do you think is the nicest thing i should say to my oh-so hardworking boyfriend?” you immediately snapped back, an edge of annoyance forming in your tone, thanks to his teasing.

he was absolutely infuriating, and all while looking so damn sexy that it drove you crazy in all the best ways.

he chuckled again, enjoying the smartassery you continued to try and push past his guard. riki pressed a light kiss to your forehead before giving you a response. "something... less rude." he stated simply, his hands gripping the edge of the bed now, caging you in. "like... i don't know, like…” he leaned in close to your ear, his body gently pressing itself against yours. "i think it should've been more along the lines of 'oh my handsome boyfriend, you're working so hard. let me help you relax~'"

you let out a scoff-like chuckle. he was really pushing it out of cockiness of having the upper hand and your admiring gaze here, wasn’t he? “self-indulgent much?” "damn right." he shamelessly said, his voice dropping an octave, eyes locking onto yours. "very." the smirk on his face curled into a half-smirk, his hot breath tickling your skin. his hips pushed against yours, his hands still on either side. "i want to be a little selfish right now."

you hummed, spreading your legs wider to incorporate his larger frame. with the decision to indulge in his little game, you questioned, “selfish how, hm?”

riki's smirk only widened as he settled between your legs, a hand gently taking your chin and forcing your gaze to remain locked on his. "in a lot of ways." he responded, his other hand gently gripping your thigh. "one of them being a nice reward for working so damn hard."

“i have a different proposition.” you suddenly interrupted, your tone one he couldn’t recognize. without giving him time to reply, you continued, “i have a very selfish desire, myself.”

his smirk widened again, his head inching closer like a lion nearing his prey. his eyes had a fire burning behind them, a sort of intense desire that you knew only led somewhere hot and messy. "oh yeah?" he responded, that hand that was gripping your thigh running up a bit. "and what's this 'very selfish' desire of yours?"

one thing led to another, and the next thing he knew- you were sitting on riki's muscular abdomen, hands on his chest as you coated his abs with your slick.

his hands moved to grip your hip instead, digging his nails in as guided your movements against his flexed muscles. he wore a lazy smirk on his lips, bringing one of his hands to make circular motions on your clit.

“fuck..” you cried out in pleasure, frantically riding on his abs like your life depended on it.

“you feel good baby? don’t even need my cock to get off anymore.. greedy baby.” he basically purred into your ear, continuing to rub your clit with his calloused thumb.

the pretty whimpers and gasps escaping your lips were like music to his ear, you were clearly too delirious to take offense to his teases, let alone come up with a reply. your pussy pulsated on his abs as a clear sign of approaching your orgasm, and it only encouraged him to further guide your hips and rub you.

“riki..” you mewled in utter glee, your hips jerking forth involuntarily ever so often.

“yes, baby? you close? gonna cum on my abs?” he teased, his voice ringing low and deep in your senses.

you gripped onto his chest just a little harder, the knot in your stomach breaking apart with a lewd moan. you stilled your hips as he rubbed your clit through your orgasm, your ejaculation now coating his proud muscles.

he groaned at the wet warmth of it, now gripping onto your hips in a way that made his own needs evident. “that was fucking hot..” he commented, making you return back to earth from your high and hide your face in the crook of his neck out of post-nut embarrassment.

“shut up..” reblog and comment or i'll appear in ur room at 3 am with a knife :3 💗

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madebycloud · 1 month ago

Text

Ex at Christmas

violet "vi" x female reader — 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

summary: christmas is just around the corner, and you've been invited to spend them with your ex-girlfriend's family. only one problem is that your ex-girlfriend has not told anyone that the relationship is over. (requested by anon)

warnings/themes: fluff and angst, found family af, fake dating, ex lovers, christmas, family gatherings, secret santa, everyone is alive and happy au, modern au vi just begging for you to take her back? words: 17.8k.... (i got carried away) notes: it's so long i should've cut it into parts but idk where... so suffer (╥﹏╥) — ✩ part one, part two

As always, the last drop is a lively spot. warm, cozy, and familiar. Colorful lights hang from the ceiling, a decorated tree stands in the corner, a 'merry christmas' painted on the wall, even a few strings of garland have been hung from the low ceiling.

People are crowding around the bar. Some are playing pool, some are simply chatting amongst themselves, cigarette smoke curling up toward the ceiling.

Vander's voice snaps you from your thoughts. “Look who finally showed her face around here.” He reaches over the top of the bar to ruffle your hair.

“I know, I know,” you laugh, swatting his hand away. “Things are just... busy, y'know?”

Vander rests his forearms on the countertop, leaning closer to you. “Just making sure you're still alive. 'Been an awful long while since I last saw you.”

“I've been fine, old man.”

“Glad to hear you're doing alright kid. Haven't seen you around here in, what, three months? You need to come by more often, keep an old guy company,” he chuckles. “I almost thought you'd vanished.”

“You sound like a grandma with kids that never call.”

Vander grins and winks at you, taking a rag and wiping at the bartop. “You're like a kid to me, so I guess it checks out.”

You scoff but say nothing, leaning against the bartop as your eyes start to travel across the room. A few people mill about that you recognize as regular patrons, but other than that, there's pretty much no one of interest.

Vander snorts and lifts the rag to his shoulder. “We're having our christmas gathering again this year, you should swing by. Just like last christmas, eh?”

A lot has changed for you in the past month, and you've been dreading this coming up. “I... don't know. I don't think so.”

Vander raises an eyebrow. “What do you mean you don't know? Not up to seeing the old gang again?”

“Not exactly,” you murmur, the memory of the breakup is still fresh. It's not that you don't want to see your friends, it's just the idea of seeing Vi again.

You sigh, running a hand through your hair. “It's not that, I just... things have changed, especially recently. I don't want to... accidentally make things awkward or something.”

Vander shakes his head and it almost seems like he's laughing at you. “Why would it be awkward?”

“I don't know…” You sigh, your shoulders slumping in resignation. “Nevermind it, I'm going.”

Your words get a smirk out of Vander, and he reaches over to poke your arm. “That's what I like to hear,” he gives you a wink, folding his arms across his chest. “You better show up or I'll drag you here myself. You know I could.”

“Like I'd let you drag me here, old man—there's no way your back can handle that.”

“Ah, you kids these days have no respect for your elders. You're gonna break my old back and then I'll die,” he pretends to sniffle, making you scoff.

Silco then walks over, looping his arms around Vander's shoulders. The two of them exchange a knowing glance before Silco turns his attention to you. “Look who actually decided to show up.”

Vander laughs as he pats Silco's arm. “Cut the kid some slack. They're just here to have a good time.”

Silco chuckles, his eyes still on you. “So are you coming on Christmas?”

You almost sigh as Silco brings up the party again. You rub at the back of your neck, and just as you're about to answer, Vander beats you to it.

“Yeah, she's coming,” he confirms.

Silco hums, he lifts his arm from off vander, resting it in his hip instead. “Good, I was beginning to think you were going to weasel your way out of it.”

Vander smacks his shoulder. “Lay off, would ya? let the kid breathe.”

Silco relents and waves his hand dismissively. “I'm just saying,” he looks back at you. “We all want you there, you know. It wouldn't be the same without you.”

Hearing them say that makes you feel guilty for even considering not going. You know they mean it. You just hope it won't be too much awkward with Vi there.

Vander nods and smiles. “He's right, you know. Everyone's been asking about you. They'll be happy to have you there.”

“I get it. You don't have to butter me up, old man.”

Vander chuckles, then he glances over his shoulder, gesturing to a small, unassuming box on a nearby table. “Hey, could you grab that little box over there for me?” Silco smirks and nods before moving to get the box, bringing it over and handing it to Vander.

“What's in the box?” you ask.

Vander grins at you, holding the box in his hands. “We're doing a secret santa,” he explains, “and since you’re coming that means you're participating too.”

Your eyebrows raise to your hairline. You'd completely forgotten about the secret santa. You groan in annoyance, running your hands over your face. “I'm still annoyed I got that whoopee cushion from Powder last year.”

“That was a good one. She was so damn proud of herself too, and besides…” Vander pauses, turning to look at you. “You never know, you might get something less annoying this year.” He then holds the box out to you, a smile on his lips.

There's always the possibility you won't get something shitty, but knowing most of your friends... Yeah, that's unlikely.

You look at the box, then up at Vander, sighing. You take the box from him. “I hope you're right, old man.”

Vander chuckles before stepping back to talk to Silco.

You turn the box over in your hands, feeling the weight of it. It's not too heavy, and you almost feel compelled to shake it. But if you do that, you'll probably end up drawing Vander's name, and that's basically cheating.

Sighing, you decide to just bite the bullet. You take the lid off the box, sticking your hand inside. Your fingers rummage around before they eventually close around a folded piece of paper.

You pull out the slip of paper, unfolding it slowly. You glance at the handwriting, then almost roll your eyes.

Of course you got Vi.

Out of all the names you could have drawn, you get the one person you didn't want to get. You could have gotten literally anyone else. Mylo, Claggor, Powder, Silco, or anyone other than Vi. but no, you had to get your ex. Just your luck.

You look at the note again, and the first thought that comes to your mind is...

Well, crap.

You're so focused on the slip of paper in your hands that you don't notice Vander and Silco peeking over your shoulder.

“So, who'd you get?”

Vander's question makes you jump, you quickly stuff the paper into your pocket before they can see who it is.

“No one,” you say, waving your hand to dismiss the question. “It's not important.”

Silco raises an eyebrow. “Then why are you pocketing the paper?”

“It's a secret for a reason.”

Vander and Silco glance at each other, and you can tell they're silently communicating.

Vander turns back to you a moment later, rubbing his jaw. “A secret, huh? Well, that means whoever you got won't know it's you.”

Silco hums. “That's probably a good thing,” he mumbles.

“That's kind of the point of a secret Santa.”

Vander nods, scratches his beard before his lips turn up in a small smile. “True means you can give them something real nice.”

Silco glances at Vander before looking at you. “Whoever you got is probably going to be very happy when they get their gift.”

You almost snort at Silco's words. Yeah, right. a gift from you? She’ll probably chuck it straight in the trash.

You run a hand through your hair, trying to shake the thoughts of Vi out of your head. You don't know why you're worried about how she'll react. Why care if she'll like the gift? Why care if she's happy with whatever you get her?

The answer is so obvious, but you don't want to admit it even to yourself.

Vander and Silco are still looking at you, and you realize that you have to say something. Any longer and they might figure it out.

You push those thoughts away and force out a small scoff. “If they'll actually like it. I'm not the best with gifts.”

“Oh, I'm sure they will,” Silco says, an almost knowing smirk on his face.

Vander nods. “Just give them something from the heart.”

From the heart, my ass. The only thing you want to give her from the heart is a kick in the ass.

“Because someone's gonna be real happy with something from me.”

Vander and Silco exchange another look again, like they're having an entire conversation without actually saying anything.

You turn away from them, looking out the window. They're probably trying to read your mind, figure out who it is you got. The thought makes your eyes twitch. You don't want them to know. You don't know why, but you really don't want them to know.

“Just do us a favor,” Silco suddenly says, cutting into the silence that had fallen between you. “Try not to stress too hard about it. You'll give yourself gray hairs.”

Vander chuckles at Silco's words, “You'll give us an old heart attack.”

“Ha ha, funny.”

Silco grins at your response. “Well, we're only half-joking.”

Vander's eyes soften. He slaps Silco's shoulder to get him to shut up. “What he means is, you overthink too much,” Vander adds.

You almost huff. Yeah, so what if you overthink? It's a normal thing to do. especially in situations like this, where you're stuck with the one person you don't want to be.

Why keep thinking about her? You need to stop obsessing over her. She made her choice, and it wasn't you.

You run your fingers to your face, trying to think of something else to distract yourself. It's not like you don't know what you want to get Vi. You just don't know if you should get it.

“I don't overthink,” you grumble, shifting your weight on your feet.

“Oh yes, you do.”

And they're both right about that.. You can't even count how many times you've paced around your apartment, replaying every interaction you had with Vi over and over again in your head. Every word, every touch, and every look. All of it, it's like your brain refuses to let you forget.

You've spent countless nights trying to figure out where you went wrong. What you could have done differently if there was something you could have changed. All of that, just because of one person who tossed you aside without a second thought.

“Listen,” Silco suddenly says, snapping you out of your thoughts. You look over at him as he stands up straight, a smirk spreads across his lips. “You're going to drive yourself crazy thinking about something that hasn't even happened yet.”

“He's right,” Vander gives you a look before continuing. “And for the love of God, stop overthinking.”

If only it were that simple. If only you could just switch off your brain and stop thinking about everything.

But you know damn well you can't do that. Your thoughts are as uncontrollable as the weather, and right now, they're a mess.

You take a deep breath, trying to calm your thoughts.

“I should probably go,” you mutter, and the two men nod. Vander pats you on the back as you start for the door.

“Same place, eh?’ he calls after you.

“Don't think too hard, kid,” Silco adds.

You give them both a small nod as you exit the bar, shutting the door behind you.

Christmas is going to be one hell of a mess this year, you can feel it.

Now all you have to do is figure out how the hell you're going to deal with it.

—

You're standing outside of Vander and Silco’s house, the weight of the present in your hands suddenly feeling a thousand times heavier.

You've replayed this moment in your head countless times, but now that it's happening for real, you're not sure if you're ready.

Christmas music drifts out of the house, it's a familiar tune that you've heard a million times.

You push down the anxiety gnawing at your stomach. You shouldn't be feeling so nervous, it's just a gift. Just a present for a secret santa.

But this isn't just anyone, this is Vi. The one person who you didn't want to get. The one person who broke things off without a second thought.

Stop thinking about this. It's just one night. one stupid night, and then it will be over. You can get through this, you can handle being around Vi for one Christmas. No more thinking about her. No more wondering where you went wrong or if you could have done something to change things. Just get through the night and forget about her.

You take another deep breath, straighten up, and square your shoulders. Then, in one moment, you push open the doors to their house and walk inside.

Your eyes search the room, looking for that familiar pink hair. But you don't see her. Your shoulders relax a little. Maybe she's not here yet. That'll give you a few minutes to brace yourself. No one is around right now, probably in their rooms or preparing for the dinner.

You were so distracted by looking around that you didn't realize someone was standing right behind you until they grabbed you and spun you around. Your eyes meet their powder blue ones, and your mouth suddenly goes dry.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“Woah, hey-” you stumble over your words.

“Don't 'woah hey' me,” she snaps, her grip tightening on your arm.

Vander's deep voice cut in before you could even speak. “You've actually came.”

You feel her look away from you, her hand finally falling from your arm. As soon as it does, you rub the skin where she grabbed you.

Vander looks between the two of you and says, “Hand me the gift, kid. I'll put it there.” He gestures towards a christmas tree where the gifts are already sitting underneath.

You quickly hold the present out for him to take.

He takes it before giving both of you another look. “Go easy with your girlfriend, eh?”

You freeze, your heart stopping as his words register. Your eyes widen as you slowly turn your head to look at Vi.

Girlfriend?

“I will.” Before you can even process what's happening, you're being pulled outside.

You yank your arm back from Vi, quickly putting some distance between the two of you. “What's your problem?”

She spins around and scoffs, looking you up and down. “I should be asking you that. What the hell are you doing here?”

“Vander invited me. He asked me to come.”

“Then you should've said no.”

“Wow? just wow.” You take a deep breath, trying to stay calm. “I know that things didn't go well between us, but you don't get to push me out of this family. They're my family too, and Vander invited me here to celebrate. I have as much right to be here as you do.”

You refuse to break eye contact with her. “You can ignore me all you want, but you don't get to decide how I'm allowed to spend my Christmas. If you want to keep acting like this, fine. Ignore me, pretend I don't exist, just like you've been doing for the past months.”

Vi lets out a laugh, rubbing a hand on her forehead. “They do not know.”

You blink at her. “What do you mean?”

She looks over at the entrance and says, “They all think we're still together.”

Your eyes widen. “What?” you almost shout. “Why the hell would they think that?”

“Because I didn't tell them,” she scoffs. “Every time I talk to them, they ask me how you are. Silco and Vander keep making comments about how we make a cute couple. They still think we're together.”

“Why the hell didn't you tell them?” you glare at her. “Were you ever going to?”

“I don't know,” she retorts, throwing her arms up. “They're all so happy about us being together.”

“That's such bullshit,” you snap at her. “That's such a crappy excuse! You should be the one to tell them we broke up.”

She looks away, planting her arm on her hips. “Don't you think I know that?” she shoots back. “It's not that simple. I can't just rip off the bandage like that.”

“Is that it? You’re scared that they'll know?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know how Silco and Vander can get.”

“I know how they get,” you snap back at her. “You’re just too much of a pussycat to face them and tell them the truth.”

Her expression hardens, and her jaw clenches. “Look who's talking. You can't even say no to a little family gathering, but here you are.”

“Don't even start. I didn't come here because I wanted to see you. I came for the family, not for you.”

“As if I wanted to see you either. The last thing I wanted was to have to deal with you all night.”

You look her right in the eye. “Fine, you know what? I'll go tell them right now that we broke up. They deserve to know.”

She grabs your wrist before you can take a step towards the door. “Wait”

You look down at her hand, then back up at her. “What?”

“Don't,” she says through gritted teeth. “Just... don't tell them yet.”

You scoff, ripping your arm away from her grip. “Why the hell not? So they can keep thinking we're still together?”

“Just don't tell them tonight. Can you just give me until after Christmas?”

“Why are you still dragging this out? What difference does it make if we wait till then or do it now?”

“Because it's fucking christmas!” she snaps before dropping her gaze. “Look, it's the holidays. I just... I don't want to ruin Christmas. They've all been looking forward to all of us celebrating together. I don't want to ruin it by spoiling the fun.”

“Wait—let me get this straight. You want to fake it this christmas? Pretend we're still a happy couple?”

She's quiet again. “Yeah,” she whispers, looking down. “Yeah, that's what I'm asking.”

“You’re unbelievable, Vi.” You take a deep breath, trying to keep yourself together. “Do you know how ridiculous that sounds? You're asking me to pretend like we're still together, to pretend that nothing has changed.”

“It's just one day,” she mumbles. “One day, that's all I'm asking for. We can tell them anytime after that, just not tonight, please.”

She even says please. Something about the way she says it makes your heart ache.

She looks desperate, like this really means something to her. Who are you kidding? Of course, this means something to her.

They're her family, they're important to her. And on Christmas, all they want is for everything to be perfect. perfect food, perfect presents, and perfect couples.

You hate the way she's looking at you with those soft, pleading eyes. She always looks at you like that when she wants something, and you always give in. She does it subconsciously, knowing how to get exactly what she wants. And damn it, it works.

“Fine,” you mutter through clenched teeth. “You've got your damned wish.”

And there it is. There's the look you've been waiting for. That look of relief that comes to her eyes.

You hate that look. You hate how your heart flutters when she looks like that. You hate it so much.

“Yeah?”

“Yes, you've got me for tonight. I'll pretend like we're still together. Happy now?”

There's a flicker of a smile on her face, something quick that's gone before you can even register. “Yeah, thank you.”

She looks away again. Silence falls between the two of you as you shift awkwardly.

This is gonna be a long night.

You let out a sigh, watching as she keeps her focus on the floor. This is so damn awkward.

And it's your own fault for agreeing to this nonsense. There's no way this night doesn't end up being a goddamn catastrophe.

You would give anything to just disappear right now.

Powder's voice snaps you out of your thoughts. Peeking her head out of the doorway, looking at the two of you. “Hey, you two. It’s cold out there, get your asses in here.”

You look at Vi, waiting for a sign of acknowledgment.

She slowly glances up, her gaze meeting yours. “Come on,” she murmurs, holding out her hand.

Taking a deep breath, you take her hand in yours.

You've held her hand so many times before—more times than you can count. Holding her hand used to be nothing, but now it feels so odd. Almost awkward.

But she doesn't seem to notice how out of place it feels. She slowly leads you towards the door, squeezing your hand as she pulls you along.

“How are my favorite love birds doing?” Mylo's voice greets you as you both enter.

He slings a casual arm over your shoulders, leaning on your shoulder to get a better look at you. “It's about time you two showed up. I thought for sure you were just gonna keep making out in a corner somewhere.”

It takes everything you have not to elbow him in the stomach. Instead, you keep a neutral expression and chuckle awkwardly, “Yeah, you know us. Can't keep our hands off of each other.”

“You two are sickeningly in love, it's really cute, actually.”

Your eye twitches, and you bite the inside of your cheek.

“Yeah, we're very in love,” Vi says, and you can tell she's trying not to roll her eyes.

Mylo claps you on the shoulder before releasing you. “Well then, I'm going to go find myself some eggnog,” he leaves towards the kitchen, whistling to himself as he goes.

You turn to look at Vi, and you almost feel a twinge of hatred towards the way she so casually holds your hand, like nothing is wrong.

“Are you okay?”

Her voice brings you back to reality, and suddenly you're all too aware of how hard you're clenching your jaw and the fact that you're basically just glowering at the floor with a storm cloud over your head.

You raise your eyes to meet with hers, and you have to force yourself to release some of the tension. “Yeah, fine,” you mutter. “just cold”

It's a lie, obviously. It's not cold at all. Vander always keeps the place nice and warm.

Not even she's dumb enough to fall for that. She glances around, clearly noticing how you're not really hiding your feelings well.

She runs her thumb over the back of your hand. It's an innocent gesture, one that you've seen dozens of times before. It's not meant to be anything special, it never was. And yet, it still makes your heart skip a beat.

You have absolutely no idea how you're going to get through this night with both your sanity and your heart still intact.

“Okay,” she finally says, “can you stop clenching your jaw so hard? you look like you're trying to grind your teeth down to the bone. I know this isn't the ideal situation, but please don't go around looking like you want to kill everyone in this room.”

Her fingers squeeze your hand, and you realize just how tightly you're holding her hand in yours. Your knuckles are white, and your fingers are probably digging into her skin.

Gritting your teeth, you loosen your grip.

“There, that's better.” She lets out a quiet breath. “Please try and just relax for a bit. This is going to be hellish already, so I at least need you to not look like you hate me every second we're in here.”

You let out a frustrated huff, looking away from her. “Please don't act like you care.”

“I'm not acting like I care,” she says, a tone just loud enough for only you to hear. “I do care, and that's the problem.”

Of course she has to say something like that right now. Of course she has to hit where it hurts the most.

Care? care about what? about you? about what she put you through, how she broke your heart?

You open your mouth, but your response dies in your throat. You have no idea how to respond to that.

A loud shout interrupts your thoughts, and you both turn around. “Oi! Time for dinner!” Powder yells from the doorway into the kitchen.

Vi mutters under her breath, “finally.”

Powder grins as she waves you both over. “Hurry up or Vander will eat everything and complain about his bad back afterwards.”

“We're coming,” Vi calls back.

The two of you head towards the kitchen. There's a long table in the middle of the room, covered in a red and green tablecloth. Everyone is already crowded around the table, taking their seats as you two enter the room. Vander is at the head of one of the tables, Silco seated beside him. Mylo and Claggor are chatting amongst themselves as Powder takes her seat beside Claggor.

Vi looks at the seating arrangement and sighs, realizing what's about to happen. She pulls you over to the table and sits down, pulling you down into the seat right next to her.

After a few moments, everyone quiets down and turns their attention to Silco.

Silco places his hands together. “It's good to see everyone together like this today. I am thankful that we are all here, safe and healthy.” He glances around the room in a quick survey, seeming to count everyone's attendance. “And what better time to be together than the holidays?”

Powder lets out a huff. “Can we just eat? I'm starving.”

Silco raises his hand for Powder to stay quiet. “Patience, Pow. First, let's do something a bit… different.”

Mylo and Claggor glance at each other in confusion. “Different?” Mylo repeats.

“Indeed,” Silco replies. “Instead of just diving into our meal, I thought it would be nice if we all took a moment to share a few words about what we are thankful for this year.”

“We're really gonna do this?”

Claggor nudges him. “Be polite, Mylo.”

“He's right, though,” Powder chimes in.

Silco raises an eyebrow at them both. “Is it really such a hassle to express gratitude at the end of the year?”

Mylo and Powder grumble something under their breaths.

Claggor is the first one to respond. “I think it's a fine idea.”

“Thank you, Claggor,” Silco replies, “I'm glad we have at least one cooperative person here.”

After a moment of silence, Vander speaks. “Alright, then I'll go first... I am grateful for my family,” he says as he looks around the room, taking in the faces before him. “I am thankful for my health, for my business, and most of all, that everyone is still here with me and safe.”

“That's so soft,” Powder mutters, but everyone ignores her.

Vander turns his head and looks directly at Silco, as if he's saying something that's meant to be for Silco's ears only, though everyone can clearly hear. “I'm also thankful for you, Sil,” he adds, the corner of his mouth twitching in a knowing smile.

You're not sure if you're the only one who noticed, but that comment definitely seemed personal and almost a little out of place.

He collects himself quickly and nods at Vander, seemingly not quite sure of what to say. “Thank you, Vander.”

Silco clears his throat and composes himself, turning his gaze to Powder. “How about you, Pow? Any words of gratitude?”

Powder groans, slouching back in her seat like a child who's been forced to eat her vegetables. “I swear, if you make me say something corny-”

Mylo leans over the table to look at her sister. “Say something nice for once, or you're not getting dessert.”

“Ugh, fine. I am thankful for…” she looks around the room. “I'm thankful everyone's here and we're all... whatever, happy and healthy or something like that,” she mumbles.

“I'll take whatever I can get,” Silco mutters before turning his attention to Claggor. “What about you, Claggor?”

Claggor seems to be taking a moment to think, like he's actually putting effort into what he will say. “I'm grateful for…” his eyes are almost unfocused as he thinks. After a moment, he glances up to look at Vander. “I'm grateful for the family I have here.”

Vander gives him a warm look in response.

Everyone's gaze turns to Mylo, expecting him to go next.

He fidgets anxiously, shifting in his seat as he glances around the room. “What am I supposed to say?...er, fine... My whole life's a mess, but...at least all you idiots are here to make my life more miserable.”

“We love you too, Mylo” Powder teases. “Real touching. I think I might cry.”

Mylo throws a glare in her direction. “Shut up.”

Silco glances at Vi, his gaze lingering as he waits for Vi to speak.

“I'm thankful for…” her voice is a bit quieter than usual, more hesitant. She glances at you before continuing. “I'm... thankful for the people I have in my life.”

Everyone's gaze settles on you next, waiting for you to say something. “Well, I... I guess I'm thankful to be able to still participate in this family gathering, even if I haven't seen everyone in a while.” You take a look at Vi before moving on. “Hopefully I can still be here and spend Christmas with all of you next year too.”

She holds your gaze for a moment, almost as if she's processing what you just said… and then, unexpectedly, a smile tugs at the corner of her lips.

It's a subtle change, barely noticeable, but you see it. and just seeing her smile, even a small one like that, has butterflies filling your stomach. It's been so long since you've seen her smile like that. A part of you misses it, a part of you yearns to see it more often.

She quickly looks away, and you notice that her cheeks have turned a light shade of pink.

“There, we all said our little cheesy bullshit,” Powder says, clearly getting impatient.

Silco turns to Powder, his expression disapproving. “Language, Pow,” he reminds.

Vander sighs. “Yes, Powder, mind your language” he adds, earning a mock-offended look from Powder.

“Like you don't swear all the time.”

“I do not swear all the time, Pow,” he protests, although you know it's a lie. Even the most proper and upstanding people swear, and Vander is definitely not that.

“Yeah, yeah, sure.”

Vander huffs but chooses not to add anything. Silco lets out a dry cough to redirect everyone's attention. “Right, now that that's over, let's go ahead and eat, shall we?” Silco says, as if the whole moment of gratitude never happened..

“Finally,” Mylo grumbles, “I was starting to wonder if you forgot about why we all gathered here.”

Silco gives him a look. “Patience is a virtue, Mylo.”

“We've all been patient for the last hour, so spare me.”

Claggor lets out a little sigh, but thankfully Mylo and Powder seem to settle into silence for the time being.

Silco nods in approval. “Then, shall we begin?”

Vander gets up from his seat, moving to go grab the food.

Powder and Mylo look at Vander expectantly, and they both look like they're about to get out of their seats. Silco gives them a warning look, silencing them before they can get a word out. “Wait until everything is ready.”

They both grumble, but they obediently sit back down. They're impatient, sure, but they at least know better than to piss off Silco.

Vander returns a moment later, setting a platter filled with food on the table. It looks delicious, and the smell is mouthwatering. Your stomach growls a little, reminding you of how hungry you are.

Powder and Mylo are practically drooling, and you honestly wouldn't be surprised if they lunged for the food the moment Silco gave the word.

Thankfully, he doesn't give them any chance. He simply says, “Please, help yourselves,” and Silco has to gesture for them to wait.

They almost get up and move to the table, and they're clearly resisting the temptation to shove each other to try and get to the food faster.

Mylo lets out a curse, and Jinx giggles in response. Vi stands up and grabs both of them, grabbing onto their shoulders and holding them back from each other.

“Enough, you two,” she scolds, “there's plenty of food for everyone. Chill out.”

They look at her with expressions that clearly are saying, 'no, we're hungry'. Powder lets out a huff, and Mylo looks like he's one more remark away from shoving her sister.

Vi's expression sharpens, her eyes boring into Mylo and Powder. “No, quit the bullshit, you can wait a few minutes, and if you two can't act like adults about it, neither of you are getting any.”

Mylo immediately shuts up at that, his expression turning slightly more guilty. Powder just looks like she's about to protest, a pout forming on her face. Vi glares at Powder to shush her as well.

“Just quit it,” she says. “You can wait, the food will taste better if you don't shove it all down your throats like dogs.”

“Fine, we'll wait,” she grumbles.

Mylo just nods with a pout, staying quiet.

Vi seems to notice their looks, and she rolls her eyes, staying put just in case. She seems wary as she watches Powder and Mylo, her eyes switching from them to the food on the table.

And sure enough, the moment Silco gestures for everyone to get their food, Powder and Mylo are gone, rushing to claim their plates.

Claggor lets out a sigh as Powder and Mylo shove each other for their own plates. No one says anything though, they're all just used to it. This is just how Powder and Mylo are, and they've come to accept it. Vi doesn't even seem as bothered as everyone else does.

Mylo seems like he's really close to just pushing Powder to the side and snatching up the slice he wants, and Powder doesn't look any better. Honestly, if Vi didn't step in, there was a chance they'd start throwing punches.

And judging from how the others' looks, especially Silco, they look like they're expecting this.

It's like this is all completely normal, they know to expect this kind of behavior when food, and more importantly, free food, is involved.

Powder and Mylo finally settle down after their little fight, and they finally begin digging into the food.

Mylo is practically shoving it into his face, eating it like he's been starved for weeks. Powder isn't any better, although at least she's not making a complete mess.

Claggor is significantly slower when it comes to eating, choosing to take his time as he slowly eats as opposed to just shoving the food into his mouth.

Vander eats at a decent pace, and he doesn't seem as starving like Mylo is.

The last one to begin eating is Silco, and surprisingly enough, there's a smile on his face. He takes one look at how Mylo and Powder are chowing down on their food, then he turns his gaze and looks at you, as if silently asking if you're going to eat.

You take the hint, and you decide to dig into your own food. The food is delicious, and you can't blame Mylo and Powder for basically trying to swallow their food whole.

Vi also begins eating now that everyone's settled down.

Vander lets out a laugh, his eyes crinkling up at the corners. “Slow down a little, you two, the food isn't going anywhere.”

Mylo and Powder both raise their heads at that, and they both look like they're considering it for a moment... but they immediately go back to shoving food down their throats.

Claggor shakes his head as he watches them eat. “You'd think they'd never seen a Christmas dinner before.”

“You know them, they would scarf down all the food in town if they could.”

Powder glances up at that, a small pout forming on her lips. “Hey, it's not our fault we're just starving.”

Mylo nods in agreement, his mouth too full to say anything.

“You both just had eaten before this,” Claggor counters.

Mylo swallows whatever food is in his mouth long enough to argue with Claggor. “And that was hours ago.”

“Yeah,” Powder agrees, “it was practically an eternity since we ate.”

“Two hours is not an eternity,” Claggor retorts.

“It might as well be,” Powder counters.

Despite the bickering and arguing the dinner feels oddly... domestic, almost.

Claggor looks like the responsible and mature oldest sibling who's done with his siblings nonsense, Vander almost acts like a tired parent, Silco acts more like a stern aunt, and Powder and Mylo act like rowdy kids who are constantly at each other's throats.

Vi sits next to you. She's making sarcastic comments with Silco, laughing at Powder’s jokes, and making small talk with Claggor. She even gives Mylo an unimpressed glare when he tries to snatch all the bread for himself.

It's almost like you're both back to normal. The way she's acting makes your heart ache. She's giving you all the attention a partner would give.

She gives you fond smiles whenever you make a comment, she casually slides an arm around your shoulders, she even scoots her chair a little closer to yours.

Her eyes are soft, her voice is soft, whenever you look at her, she looks back with this almost affectionate look.

It's so normal, that it almost takes you back to your relationship and how you two were before the breakup.

She's even doing little things, like leaning closer to you, letting a hand rest on your thigh, even discreetly grabbing your hand and intertwining your fingers with hers under the table.

You want to hold her tight and never let her go, but your brain keeps reminding you. You two aren't together anymore.

But when you look at her, when she looks at you with that look in her eyes, everything goes quiet.

Maybe it could work this time.

Maybe you two could just bury the hatchet and move on.

Maybe things could work between you two if you try it out again.

Then you remember the fights, the nights you spent on your bed, crying while Vi was out with friends. You remember how she treated you after the breakup—how she tossed you aside like discarded trash.

You try to ignore it, push it to the back of your head. But it's so hard when Vi sits next to you, close enough for you to catch the scent of her perfume. She smells like cigarettes and leather, something that's so her.

You're so focused on trying to stop yourself from touching her or even getting closer that you're almost surprised when she suddenly leans her head against your shoulder.

She doesn't say anything, just leans against you.

She's so close. She's pressed against your side, her shoulder against your shoulder, her head against yours, her hand on your thigh.

You notice her scent again, now stronger.

Her hair brushes against your neck, the way you can feel the warmth of her body, and the way her thumb draws little circles into your thigh.

She's so close, and yet you want her even closer.

You want to run your hands through her hair, you want to nuzzle your face into her shoulder, you want to feel her hands roaming your body.

You just want her.

Your thoughts are suddenly interrupted by Powder, her question pulling you out of your head. “It's been a while since we've seen you two together,” she says, her mouth still full of food.

Claggor shoots Powder a look. “Powder-”

“Shush, I'm just wondering,” she argues, shrugging casually, “has she been avoiding you?”

“No,” you say before anyone can say anything. “We just... haven't had time to schedule any dates, that's all.”

“For months? Haven't had time to schedule a single date for months?”

“Life gets busy, y’know,” you reply, trying to sound nonchalant.

Mylo scoffs at that. “You two are dating, the least you could do is at least manage one date a month.”

Claggor smacks him over the head. Mylo grumbles and rubs the back of his head, shooting his brother a glare. “What? it's true,” he mutters. “We just kind of... we all miss you.”

Vander gives Mylo a disapproving glare. “What Mylo means is, your presence has been sorely missed around here.”

“We all just... we just want you around more,” Powder puts in her two cents, speaking around a mouthful of food again.

You cast a sidelong glance at Vi. You and her are putting up a pretty good facade so far, but Mylo's question seemed to have put her on the spot a little. She catches your glance, and you give her a look that says, just play along. Vi sighs, her hand squeezing your thigh.

“Look, I-” she glances around the table, meeting everyone's eyes before sighing and putting on the most believable expression. “I know we haven't been as... present as we should have been for the past few months. Work just got really hectic.”

“That's true,” you back her up with a nod. “I had to travel away for a business trip a few weeks ago, so it's been pretty hard to find time to spend together.”

Vander, Silco, and Powder all nod in understanding. They're aware of the fact that you have a job in a big city, so it's not an unbelievable explanation.

Mylo, however, snorts and crosses his arms. “You don't have to feed us some lame excuse for not hanging out with us.”

Claggor gives Mylo another smack. “Would you shut up already?”

“Ow!” Mylo grumbles as he rubs his head again, shooting Claggor a dirty look.

Vander sighs. “Regardless, it's good to have you here for Christmas this time.”

Everyone nods and agrees. Powder grins at you, Silco shoots you a small almost-smile, and Claggor and Vander both look genuinely pleased to have you here.

All eyes then land on Mylo, and he shrugs again, mumbling, “I guess it is good to have you here.”

“See, it's a christmas miracle, Mylo isn't being a little prick for once,” Powder teases.

Mylo scowls at her. “Hey, I'm never a little prick-”

“Bullshit.”

Mylo just grumbles again, his eyes narrowing at Powder. “I just think that-”

“Nobody cares what you think,” Powder interrupts again.

That just causes Claggor, Vander, and Silco to laugh. Vi snorts next to you, squeezing your thigh.

The conversation soon changes to talking about old childhood holiday memories.

Mylo tells a story about him stealing Silco's secret chocolate stash when he was twelve. Silco scowls at the memory, but there's a hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth.

Powder tells a story about the time she accidentally burned the back of Vander's hair with a roman candle. Vander laughs and shakes his head at the memory.

At some point, Claggor chimes in to tell a story about a time he and Mylo accidentally broke a window during a snowball fight. Even Mylo himself laughs at that one.

There's lighthearted banter, friendly jabs, and just a lot of laughter in between. This, this is what it should have been like from the beginning. It reminds you of the way it used to be when you were all younger, but still has a different air to it. In a way, it's almost better than those old days. Everyone's grown, but there's still that same energy that always connected you all as a family... it just feels fuller.

You don't know if it's just the christmas lights playing tricks on your mind, but you swear you can almost see the faintest tearful sheen in Vander's eyes. He's almost always had a bit of parental pride and love toward all of you, but seeing you all sitting here together, happy... damn, it must bring back a lot of memories for him.

Silco even looks slightly less grumpy than usual, his mouth twisting into a barely visible smile as the rest of the table continues talking. Yeah, this is how christmas should be…

It almost makes you forget that all of this is fake, almost makes you forget why you and Vi aren't together anymore. It's almost like just for tonight, you can pretend like things are back to how they used to be.

But you know this will not last. When everything is said and done, when christmas night is over and you're all saying your goodbyes, you have no doubt in your mind that you and Vi will go your separate ways again.

You glance at her, taking in the sight of her laughing with the rest. Her eyes are bright, her smile is big, and her entire face lights up with joy.

You bite the inside of your cheek, forcing your heart to quiet.

Vi must notice you looking, because she glances over at you. She's looking at you with that look again. You recognize it so easily.

That look... that damn look she's giving you again. The look that makes your heart stutter against your ribs, the look that makes your stomach twist into knots. It's a look that almost makes you want to lean forward and kiss her.

You almost give into your urges. You almost reach out and push a stray strand of hair out of her face, you almost do something to kiss her, almost.

But you don't, you can't. That would spoil the whole 'still dating' facade, and besides.... you have boundaries.

You give her a little nod, offering a small smile, and you almost swear that you see disappointment flash across her eyes.

She looks like she wants to say something, her hand tightening over your knee again, but she seems to change her mind and just smiles back.

Maybe it's just a figment of your own imagination, you think to yourself. Maybe it was a trick of the light or something.

Claggor reaches over to grab something from the middle of the table, and Silco clears his throat. “How about you two?” he says it casually, like he's just making small talk, but there's a hint of concern in his voice. “Any... any problems between the two of you lately?”

You and Vi both sit up straighter. “Problems...?” Vi repeats.

Silco just shrugs, playing it casual. “I don't know, I'm just wondering... a lot of couples who have been together for as long as the two of you have.” He trails off, but everyone at the table knows the implications.

Mylo grumbles under his breath. “I swear, if you start talking about how high the divorce rate is—” Claggor elbows Mylo, and he shuts up.

Silco just chuckles. “Oh, I'm sure you two can last.”

Powder rolls her eyes. “These two have been together since forever. You guys were like... practically attached at the hip, from day one.”

“Yeah, we were like that, weren't we?” Vi looks back at you.

“Yeah,” you say with a casualness you don't feel. “Yeah, we were.”

Silco hums. “I remember when you two first started dating.”

“Oh, do you remember that?” Vander says, looking at Silco. “I remember the two of them coming to me the day they decided they were going to be official.”

Claggor nods. “Yeah, and they were so... so mushy. All 'you're mine' and 'we're never going to break up,” he puts on a mock high-pitched voice, imitating you and Vi

“That was the worst,” Powder groans, shoving food into her mouth.

Mylo grins and elbows Claggor. “How many times did you have to stop them from making out all over the bar again?”

“Way too many times.”

“By the way,” Mylo says. “You two aren't doing anything for new years, are you?”

You and Vi exchange glances. “..we haven't made plans yet,” you say slowly, trying to think of excuses.

“Oh, you should come join us then,” Mylo says, leaning back and stretching his arms. “All of us are getting hammered down here for new years, you two should come.”

“Yeah, it'll be fun!” Powder pipes up, eyes lighting up. “You guys will come, won't you? promise you'll come.”

You open your mouth, trying to wrack your brain for excuses, but before you can say anything-

“Of course we'll come.”

You turn to look at Vi, and she just gives you a shrug.

Mylo grins. “Good, good! That'll be fun,” he sits up and points a finger at you both. “I swear, the two of you used to be so much fun at parties, it's like you both went boring when you got older.”

“Hey, just cause we're getting old doesn't mean we suddenly became party poopers,” Vi says defensively. “We're still fun.”

Mylo cackles. “Are you now? I never see you two do anything anymore,” he leans back in his seat. “Ever since you got that fancy shmancy job, you've been too busy to have any fun.”

“We know how to have fun, we have—” you pause, trying to think of the word, “responsibilities now. responsibilities that a certain someone is too dumb to understand.”

“I understand responsibilities, but I understand the concept that if you don't get wasted while you're young, then you'll wake up at forty, old and boring,” he says, looking at Silco and Vander. “And I want to make the most out of my young and reckless years. Meanwhile, you've already turned into an old, boring fart.”

You scowl at that, but Silco interrupts before you can respond. “Don't knock on old farts just yet. Some of us are old and still know how to have fun.”

“Yeah,” Vander chimes in, nodding his head. “Just because we're old doesn't mean we don't know how to have a good time.”

Mylo rolls his eyes and waves a hand. “Yeah, yeah, you old farts can still have fun. You just don't know how to have real fun anymore.” Mylo then pouts. “I just... I miss how it used to be, you know?” he sighs, resting his chin in his hand. “Before all that adult crap, when things were easier.”

“Easier,” Powder mutters, poking at the remains of her food. “Yeah, when we were broke and always hungry, real easy.”

Mylo reaches over and flicks her arm. “Easy doesn't always mean money, you dumbass.”

Powder scowls and smacks his arm back. “Don't call me a dumbass, you dumbass.”

“Then don't be a dumbass,” Mylo snaps back, smacking her again.

Powder smacks him again, harder. “Don't you dare call me a dumbass again.”

Before they can start another childish argument, Silco's voice cuts in. “Enough you two," he says, and they immediately grumble and fall quiet.

“Honestly, I sometimes wonder how the two of you aren't still in high school,” Vander mutters under his breath.

“That's an insult to high schoolers, they're more mature than those two,” Claggor jokes, earning him a smack to the head from both Powder and Mylo.

He yells and puts his hands up in surrender, “ow ow ow, ok ok! don't hurt me!”

Jinx and Mylo laugh, while Silco shakes his head. “See what I mean? Children.”

“And they both insist they're mature enough to be out in the real world, independent and capable,” Vander says, while Silco chuckles.

“They're still just as chaotic now as they were in high school,” Silco says dryly. “Nothing has changed.”

Powder and Mylo both glare at him. “Really? like you two were that much better in high school,” she grumbles.

Silco raises an eyebrow at that. “We certainly weren't as immature as some people,” he says pointedly.

“You guys were probably just as bad as us, you just don't remember."

There's a pause, and Silco and Vander exchange glances before Silco snorts. He tries to bite back a laugh, but it comes out anyway, causing Vander to burst out laughing as well.

“I can't-” Vander wheezes between laughs. “I can't believe... you actually…”

Silco doubles over, laughing even harder. After a moment, he manages to gasp out a few words. “Oh, if you only... if you only knew…”

Powder and Mylo exchange confused glances, while Claggor tilts his head. “What? what happened? what's so funny?”

The laughter finally dies down as Silco composes himself enough to speak. “Nothing, it's nothing,” he says, waving a hand.

“All right, all right,” Vander looks around the table. “I think most of us are done eating. Who wants to help with the dishes?”

There's a collective groan from the rest of the table. No one likes doing dishes.

Powder and Mylo immediately groan out a “not it,” and Claggor follows up with “You all know I'm terrible at dishes-”

“Don't look at me either,” Silco grumbles. Vander just sighs and shakes his head.

and that just leaves you and Vi... great, just great.

You're about to argue as well, anything to get out of being stuck in the kitchen with Vi, but she beats you to it. “Yeah, we'll do it,” she says, before you can even open your mouth.

“Oh, I-” you pause for a moment. You had been fully intending to dodge the chore, but now you can't without looking like an ass and leaving her alone to do dishes.

Vi stands up and picks up the nearest stack of dirty dishes, balancing them on her arms as she turns to you. She shoots you a look, almost like she's daring you to try and weasel out of helping.

You get the hint, shaking your head a little and standing up. This is absolutely the last thing you want to do right now.

You follow her to the kitchen, grabbing a few more dishes along the way.

She holds the kitchen door open for you, and you step into the little kitchen with its small stone countertops and simple appliances. You set the dishes down on the counter near the sink, turning to find Vi already rolling up her sleeves.

She's not looking at you, but when she starts to roll up the left side of her shirt sleeve, you swear you can see her eyes dart over to you for a split second.

You pause, staring at the side of her face. You can't tell if she's... no, you must be imagining things. The light must be playing tricks.

She clears her throat, raising one eyebrow. “What, you're not gonna help?”

“No, no, I am,” you hurriedly say, turning away as you start to roll up your sleeves.

You're not going to look at her. Not at the way her forearm flexes when she reaches down to turn on the water, not at the way she bends over to grab some dish soap, and definitely not at the way her shirt tightens across her shoulders.

Yeah, you're definitely not going to look at her. Not at the way her fingers move when she soaps up the dishes, not the way her biceps flex when she bends her elbow, and especially not at the way her hair falls into her face when she scrubs at a stubborn stain.

Why is she so fit?

You look down at your own hands, watching the water and soap bubble up between your fingers. You start washing another dish, trying your absolute hardest to look anywhere except at her.

The minutes tick by in awkward silence, but eventually, your mind starts to wander. After all, washing dishes is pretty damn boring.

You glance over at her again, out of the corner of your eye, watching the way her shoulder blades shift under her shirt. The fabric of her shirt is stretched taut against her shoulders, and you wonder what she looks like under it if she still has all the same muscles....

Yeah, okay, you really have to stop staring at her.

“Can I ask you a question?”

Well, so much for not looking at her. Your head snaps up at the sound of her voice, and you force yourself to just focus on scrubbing at the glass in your hands.

“Depends what the question is,” you grumble, shifting a little.

You expect her to ask you something about your current life or something generic. What happened when you were gone, what life was like where you were?

Instead, she asks something completely left-field.

“Do you ever think about us?”

You tense up, the glass in your hands slipping a little in your grip. You were not expecting that question. Hell no, you were literally not expecting that question.

How are you supposed to answer that? yes? no? sometimes?

What was she even expecting to hear? did she want you to say yes, to say that you always thought about her, that you would've come back to her in a heartbeat if you could've? or did she just want to hear you say no, to hear that you moved on, that you had to move on because it was either that or let yourself fall apart?

‘Sometimes’ was definitely not the answer you would've given months ago.

Now, though? you would admit that sometimes, after a rough morning or a particularly lonely night, you'd let yourself think about her. You'd remember those nights you spent in her apartment, on her shitty couch, talking her ear off about everything and nothing, the nights where the two of you would sit on the couch and watch tv, her head resting on your shoulder, and you'd wonder if maybe... just maybe..

You wonder if she thinks about that kind of stuff too, if you cross her mind late at night when she's alone. You wonder if she still thinks about the nights where you would stay in bed together, talking for hours after a particularly good round, your head resting on her chest as she played with your hair, or the mornings where you'd wake up and find her making breakfast for you.

Yeah, you thought about her a lot.

But you couldn't say that to her. You can't tell her that you think about it all the time, about how sometimes you can't fall asleep because you miss the feeling of laying in bed with her, about how you always find your hands searching for her in the middle of the night. No, you absolutely cannot tell her that, no matter how badly you wanted to.

“I used to,” you say instead of letting your thoughts wander any farther. “Not anymore.”

You keep scrubbing, even after there's no longer any more dirt on the glass. Just so you have a reason not to look at her, just so you have a shield from the thoughts you know are brewing in her quiet mind.

She's quiet for a moment, and you can feel her looking at you. Looking at you, reading you, trying to figure out if you're telling the truth or not.

After a few moments, she takes a breath like she's going to speak, but then stops herself. It's something you're all too familiar with. She's overthinking something, that much is obvious. She's trying to pick her words carefully, and damn, you just wish she'd spit it out.

The silence feels like it's been going on for a year, but really, it was only around a minute. Your knuckles are turning white from how tightly you're gripping the glass you're washing, and your shoulders are beginning to ache from how tense you are.

“What about you?” you murmur. “Do you... do you think about us?” You force yourself to look over at her, and you instantly wish you hadn't.

She's not looking at you now, she's not watching you suspiciously or anything like that. No, instead she's looking down, staring at the soapy water, and avoiding eye contact with you.

She's quiet for a second, her hands pausing in their scrubbing. “Yeah,” she finally says, “I do.”

Damn it. Her answer goes straight to your gut and twists deep inside you.

You were absolutely expecting a solid “no”, hell, you were even preparing yourself for a cruel “god, no.”

Anything, anything other than “I do.”

She continues scrubbing at a plate as if she hasn't just turned your world upside down. How are you supposed to react to her answer? do you say something, do you not say something?

“Why?” the question leaves your lips before you can stop yourself.

“Why do you think so?”

You don't say anything, you just shrug your shoulders. You genuinely don't know. You'd just blurted out the question without actually knowing what you wanted the answer to be.

Her eyes linger on yours for a few seconds, and you can't quite read them. She looks like she wants to say something, she looks like she wants to reach out and hold you, and you'd bet real money that if circumstances were different, she would've done exactly that.

Instead, she just averts her gaze back to the sink and lets out a sigh. “I don't know... I just do.”

You go back to scrubbing dishes. It's obvious there are a million things that you want to say, that you need to say.

“Oh,” is all you say in response, and the word hangs in the air awkwardly.

You're both quiet for a few minutes after that. It's quiet, except for the faint music playing in the background and the sounds of dishes clinking against one another.

A few times, you catch yourself glancing over at her, trying to pick up any hint of what she could be thinking, what she might say next. But, every time, she stubbornly keeps her eyes down on the dishes she's scrubbing. It's frustrating, the way she just won't look at you, and what pisses you off most is the fact that you understand why she won't look at you.

You have a feeling that if she were to look at you, if she were to meet your eyes right now, she'd either burst into tears or shove you into a storage closet and kiss you until your lungs burned.

You don't know which one would be worse.

It's so quiet, so awkward. You're both just scrubbing and scrubbing, refusing to look at the other.

Every time she takes a breath, you look over at her, convinced she's about to speak. But, time and time again, she doesn't, and the only sound to come from her is a shaky exhale.

It's maddening.

The sound of Claggor's voice finally breaks the stifling silence, and you let out a breath you didn't know you'd been holding. He peeks his head into the kitchen, grinning widely. “Yo, you two almost done here? Powder is about to get impatient.”

You're thankful for the interruption, and judging by the look on Vi's face, so is she.

“Yeah, we're done,” Vi mutters, glancing up from the dish she's been washing for the last ten minutes.

You dry your hands off on a nearby towel, trying to look unaffected. “We're finished.”

Claggor grins again, “Thank God, Powder is about to start biting people.” He laughs, then disappears back into the main room.

“That sounds like her,” she says with a chuckle, scrubbing her hands off on a towel.

“Guest we should head out there then,” you murmur, trying to get her to actually look at you.

She hesitates for a second, still running the towel over her hands even though they're no longer wet. She looks down for a moment as if she's contemplating something, then finally lifts her head to look at you.

Her jaw is tense like she's forcing herself to stay quiet. After a few seconds, her features soften a little. “Yeah.”

You want to ask her what she's thinking, you want to ask her why. Instead, you just push the door of the kitchen open and gesture for her to go first.

—

“Now that we've had an amazing dinner, it's time for the best part of the night.”

Everyone gathers around, now sitting either on the couch or on the floor. Powder and Mylo immediately get squished together on the floor. Powder mutters under her breath, “Hey! you're shoving me!”

“Only because you're taking up too much space.”

Vander smiles from his spot on the couch. “Alright! It's time for secret santa. Everyone remembers who they drew, right?”

A group of nods and hums go around as everyone pulls out the slips of paper that have the names they drew.

Vander clasps his hands together. “Good!” he says as he looks around the room, his smile getting wider. “Who wants to go first?”

A few seconds of silence, then Powder’s hand shoots up. As always, she's the most excited one. “me!”

Vander laughs. “Well, look at that, our little girl is so eager. Okay, you can go first, Pow-Pow.”

Powder smiles and scrambles off the floor, almost tripping over herself as she pulls a present from beneath the Christmas tree. She glances down at the tag and grins.

She then scans the room with a giddy smile, then her eyes land on Silco.

She bounds over to him, practically shoving the present into his hands as she sits down on the floor next to his legs.

Silco smiles faintly as he takes the present. “Alright, let's see what you got me, hm?” He's quiet as he carefully unwraps the present, and Powder watches him who barely contains her excitement.

After a moment, the wrapping paper is set aside, and the present is now fully unwrapped. It's just a little box, though Silco is curious as to what's inside.

He glances at Powder as he takes the lid off the box, looking a little wary. Powder just grins at him. “Go on, open it,” she encourages.

He looks back at the box and, with a little nod, reaches in and pulls out the item inside. He holds it in his hands and looks at it curiously, then looks at Powdr with a raised eyebrow.

She's still grinning, and she looks extremely pleased with herself. Mylo glances over to look and snorts out a laugh. “Would you look at that?”

Silco looks at the item in his hands, then looks at Powder again. “You got me…” he begins, trying to sound unimpressed. “...a little shark plushie?”

Powder nods, her grin getting wider, still very pleased with herself. “Yep!” she exclaims, “I got you a little shark plushie. You like it, right?”

Silco glances at the plushie and then at her again, looking vaguely fond. He carefully sets it down on his lap, then smiles a little.

“I adore it.”

Her grin somehow widens even more. She's clearly happy with herself. Silco chuckles a little under his breath, then looks around. “Who's next?”

Claggor shrugs, raising a hand. “I'll go,” he offers, to which Vander nods.

“Go ahead, Claggs,” he says approvingly.

Claggor gets to his feet from his spot on the floor, then moves to the tree. He crouches down and rummages around, looking for the present with the correct name tag.

A minute passes as a few minutes go by. He eventually stands back up, a small present in his hands. He looks around the room, then his eyes land on Mylo, who's now lying down on the floor and looking very bored.

Claggor moves over to him, tossing the present into his lap. Mylo looks up and catches the present, shooting him a glare. “You couldn't have done that a little nicer?” he complains while sitting up.

Claggor just shrugs and gives him a flat look. “Suck it up,” he tells him bluntly before sitting back down.

Mylo scoffs and begins to unwrap the present, ripping the wrapping paper off carelessly. He tosses the wrapping paper away, then looks down at the present as he tears the box open. He's quiet for a moment, looking at the contents...

..and then he groans, covering his face.

“Oh, come the hell on,” he grumbles, though he sounds more whiny than anything else. He glances up from his hands to give Claggor a withering look.

“Dude, seriously?”

“What?”

Mylo just sighs, shooting the toy in the box with a dismayed look. “Really? a stress ball?”

Claggor shrugs. “I thought it was a good idea,” he says, clearly not bothered by Mylo's unimpressed tone. “And you seem to be lacking a bit in the stress management department.”

“Well, excuse me for being a bit stressed when you're being a dick.”

“See, you need the stress ball. You proved my point right there.”

Mylo just groans and throws his head back. He picks up the stress ball and squeezes it hard. “I hate you.”

Claggor merely grins. “I love you too.”

Mylo mutters something under his breath, too quiet for anyone to hear, then looks up as he addresses the group. “So, who's up next? I'm sure there's some poor sap itching to go.”

Silco raises a hand. “I'll go next,” he offers.

Everyone glances at him, then nods and gestures for him to go. He gets up off the couch and saunters to the tree. He scans the presents beneath it, moving a few aside to find the one he was looking for.

He finally finds it and smirks to himself, grabbing the present and standing up. His eyes sweep over the group, taking in everyone's expressions. He then turns and walks over to Vander, holding the present out to him.

Vander glances at the present, then at Silco, taking the present and curiously giving it a little shake. “What is it?” he asks curiously.

Silco just grins in a vaguely irritating way and sits back down. “Just open it,” he replies, his voice dripping with innocence.

Vander raises an eyebrow but begins to unwrap the present meticulously, occasionally shooting Silco a glance, as if expecting something. He peels away the wrapping paper to reveal a small box, then looks at Silco, his eyes questioning.

Silco simply shrugs and gestures for him to go on. Vander quirks another eyebrow up but opens the box anyway, now a little intrigued.

Then a snort finally escapes him. He's now fighting to hold back laughter.

Mylo sits up suddenly, looking at Vander, then at Silco, curiosity in his eyes. “What? What is it?” he asks eagerly.

Vander doesn't answer for a moment. He's still staring into the box, looking like he can't believe what he's seeing.

He then looks up at Silco. “Please tell me you're joking,” he implores.

Silco's smile widens even more. “I couldn't be more serious,” he replies.

Vander lets out a long, suffering sigh, then digs through the tissue paper and pulls something out of the box.

It's a pair of comically large underwear, one that could practically fit an entire person inside of it.

Vander groans, holding the underwear up and staring at them with slight disgust.

Mylo and Powder both start laughing once they register what the present is. Powder laughs so hard she nearly falls over, clutching her stomach as she howls with laughter.

Vi's eyes widen at the sight of the underwear, her mouth dropping open a little in surprise. As much as it pains her to admit it... she just knows the jokes that Silco is going to start making any minute now.

…and she's right.

“You see, I thought it was a necessary gift.”

“Necessary?” Vander repeats, still holding the underwear up in disbelief.

Silco just nods. “Of course. you're getting old, and as you get older... accidents happen.”

“I'm not that old,” Vander grumbles, though he knows it's probably not the best argument.

Silco smirks, raising a hand and waving it dismissively. “Oh, you know what I mean. Things begin to... fail as you age. I simply wanted to make sure you had a spare pair.”

Mylo is now practically rolling on the floor, clutching his sides. “Oh, my god, I can't breathe—this is—this is gold,” he wheezes. Powder is laughing so hard she's choking, practically coughing her lungs up.

Vander sighs again, looking down at the underwear in his hands. He looks like he wants to throw it into the fire and destroy it right there.

He glances up at Silco, giving him a look that clearly says, 'I will get you back for this'.

Silco leans back against the couch and crosses an ankle over his knee, looking all too pleased with himself. “What? You don't like them? I personally thought they were a good choice.”

Vander opens his mouth to reply, but Powder interrupts him.

“Oh, god,” Powder chokes out, “you should try them on. They'd look perfect on you.”

Vander shoots Powder a glare to kill. “No way in hell,” he mutters firmly, folding his arms and sitting back.

But Powder’s not done. “Come on, just try them on,” she wheezes. “It really would be a look for you.”

Vander turns his glare to Powder, his expression clearly saying, 'I will murder you if you keep talking.'

“No,” he replies through gritted teeth.

Even Silco is starting to look amused.

“Just for a second,” she teases, “come on, just long enough for us to see. We won't even say anything.”

Vander lets out another long, suffering sigh.

He shoots a sneering look at both Silco and Powder. Eventually he lets out an exasperated grumble and stands up, mumbling something under his breath as he heads into the bathroom with the underwear.

Mylo falls back onto the floor, clutching his stomach.

Silco is laughing too, watching as Vander heads to the bathroom to change.

Mylo is dying of laughter, gasping for air in between wheezes. “Holy shit,” he chokes out. “He's really doing it.”

It takes a few minutes, but eventually the bathroom door swings open and Vander exits, looking like he regrets every decision he's made that led him to this.

His face is as red as a tomato as he stomps back over to them in the gigantic underwear.

Mylo and Powder are losing it again, falling over and rolling on the floor with laughter.

Silco is smiling, trying to stifle a laugh. “Oh my,” he says, barely containing his amusement. “They look even better than I imagined,” he comments.

Vander can hardly look anyone in the eye, still red with embarrassment. “I hate you. I hate you all.”

Claggor looks at Silco and Powder, clearly trying not to laugh. “You guys are terrible,” he says, a trace of a smile on his face.

Vi can't hold back her laughter anymore, she's grinning from ear to ear. “You look... perfect,” she comments through a strangled chuckle.

Vander turns his glare on her, still red with embarrassment. “I hate you all,” he repeats, shaking his head.

Powder is still giggling from the floor. “I want pictures,” she wheezes, holding up her phone.

Vander looks like he wants to smack her head off. “Absolutely not. I forbid it,” he snaps, sounding as serious as someone wearing comically large underwear can.

Powder just pouts, lowering her phone. “Oh, come on,” she says with a whine, looking up at Vander with puppy-dog eyes. “Just a few.”

“No, I'm not having pictures of me in these... embarrassing things circulating the internet.”

“The internet? Who said anything about the internet?” she replies, a smirk on her face. “I just meant... a few for my own personal, um, research.”

He opens his mouth to say something, but Silco chimes in first. “Oh, come on. Humor her. It's the season of giving.”

Vander turns his glare to Silco, his expression almost murderous. “There's no way in hell—”

“Pleeeease?” Powder interrupts, holding out her phone again.

Vander looks like he's about to argue, but Powder is already giving him those damn puppy-dog eyes that he struggles to resist.

He hesitates, then, with a grumble, he sighs. “Fine, one picture.”

Powder looks like a kid on Christmas. The instant the word 'picture' leaves Vander's mouth, she leaps to her feet and lifts up her phone.

“Stand up straighter.”

Vander obeys, reluctantly straightening up.

“Say cheese,” she grins.

Vander grumbles under his breath, but he cooperates. “Cheese,” he mutters, putting on a strained smile.

Powder snaps the picture, then lowers her phone and looks at it with a satisfied smile. “Oh yeah, you're getting on the naughty list for this one,” she grins, wiggling the phone a little.

Once the picture-taking is over and Vander changes his clothes back, Silco motions for Powder to settle down.

“Alright, settle down. It's time to continue with the secret Santa,” Silco says, looking at the others.

They all nod in agreement, still snickering but mostly focusing on the present exchange.

“Who wants to go next?” Silco asks, looking around the group.

Mylo looks around, then grins. “My turn.”

Powder rolls her eyes, knowing that look on his face all too well. “Here we go,” she mutters under her breath, preparing herself for whatever nonsense Mylo is about to come up with.

Mylo smirks, holding up his present. “Well, I drew someone's name... and it was a pretty easy choice.” He then looks around the group with mock innocence. “Oh, where's my victim?”

Claggor lets out a defeated sigh. “Who exactly is the unlucky person this year?”

“There's only one person who I could have possibly chosen…”

“Would you just spit it out before the suspense kills me?” Powder snaps, impatient.

Mylo huffs. “Jeez, have some patience,” he grumbles. “Anyway, my secret santa is…”

Vander sighs, looking like he's already regretting this. Claggor puts his head in his hands, bracing himself.

“My secret santa is, drumroll please…” they reluctantly drum their hands against any surface near them. “My very special secret Santa is…”

Claggor covers his face with his hands, looking like he's praying.

Mylo grins, looking from face to face, savoring the moment before he does the big reveal.

“My secret Santa... is Powder!”

“Fuck!” she groans, burying her head in her hands.

“Aww, what's the matter, Pow?” Mylo grins, holding up the wrapped present.

Powder lets out another groan, glaring up at him. “You're the worst,” she mutters, looking like she's praying to any god out there to just put her out of her misery already.

Mylo grins, clearly getting a kick out of her misfortune. “Come on, don't be like that. It could be worse, I could have gotten you a box of spiders,” Mylo teases, shaking the present in her direction.

Powder looks like she's seriously considering that as a better option. “You know what? Give me the spiders. Spiders would be better than whatever it is you got me.”

“Nice try. You're not getting out of it that easily,” he says, holding the present just out of her reach. “You have to open it, come on.”

Powder grumbles in protest, then reluctantly reaches out for the present. She snatches it out of his hands, shooting him a glare. “If I die from this, I'm going to haunt you for the rest of your life,” she mutters, slowly tearing the wrapping paper.

Then, Powder tears back the last piece of wrapping paper, revealing a plain black box. “What the hell is this?” she mutters, looking like she's already fed up with whatever shenanigans Mylo has come up with.

“You're going to have to open it and see for yourself.”

Powder grumbles, giving Mylo a glare that could freeze hell over. She slowly opens the black box, not sure what to expect.

“Please tell me this is not what I think it is,” she mutters, looking like she's two seconds away from throwing the entire box at Mylo's head.

The others lean in closer, curiosity getting the better of them.

“You did not get me what I think you got me.”

“Oh, you're going to have to be more specific than that,” he replies, trying to hide his smirk.

Powder glares at him, her jaw clenching. “You know what I'm talking about,” she snaps, looking like she's contemplating dumping the contents of the box over his head.

Mylo just shrugs, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “I honestly have no idea what you're talking about.”

Vander just rubs his face with one hand, knowing that this situation is about to spiral out of control.

“You're telling me,” Powder hisses through clenched teeth, “that you didn't get me exactly what I think you got me?”

“Like I said, you'll have to be a bit more specific,” he responds, looking entirely too smug for his own good.

Powder looks like she's about to explode. “Mylo, I swear to-”

Claggor cuts her off, knowing that she's about to blow her top. “Calm down, Powder,” he says, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“I'll calm down when the box goes straight over his head.”

“Why so angry? I thought you'd be excited.”

“I can't wait to make you eat that box,” she mutters, her hands clenching into fists.

“Oh, I'm so scared.”

Vander interjects, trying to diffuse the tension. “That's enough. No need to start throwing things around.”

“I was just having fun.”

“Yeah, have fun with a black eye.”

“Enough,” Silco says, giving both Powder and Mylo stern looks.

Both Mylo and Powder grumble, reluctantly backing down a bit.

“Can we all just get back to opening presents, please?” Vander asks, sounding exasperated.

The others nod in agreement, though Powder still looks like she's not done with Mylo yet. She glares at him one last time before reluctantly returning to her seat.

Mylo just grins, clearly enjoying having gotten the last word in. He takes his own seat next to Claggor, looking very pleased with himself.

The others exchange glances, silently agreeing to not let Powder and Mylo be too close to each other for the rest of the evening.

Silco clears his throat, getting everyone's attention. “Now, who's next?” he asks, looking around the room.

Vander nods, leaning back in his seat. “I'm up next, I guess,” he mutters. He rummages at the gifts under the Christmas tree. After a few moments of searching, Vander finally finds the present he was looking for. He picks it up, holding it in his lap.

“This one's for you,” he says, handing the present to Claggor.

Claggor takes the present, looking curious. He glances down at it, then looks up at Vander with a soft smile. “Thanks,” he says, starting to unwrap it.

Once the wrapping paper is off, Claggor is holding a box of assorted tools. They range from pliers to wrenches to screwdrivers.

“Just like you requested,” Vander says, watching as Claggor starts inspecting the tools.

“Wow, these are great. Thanks, dad,” he replies, running a hand over the tools in the box.

Vander smiles, clearly pleased to see that Claggor likes his present. “I thought you'd like them. I saw them at the pawnshop the other day and figured you could use them.”

“I definitely will. These are a huge upgrade compared to what I have now.”

Vander reaches over and pats Claggor on the shoulder. “You deserve it. You've been working your ass off lately.”

Vander looks around the room, looking for the next person to take their turn. “Alright, who's up next?” he asks, eyeing everyone lazily.

Mylo's head suddenly snaps up, a smirk on his face. “Oh goodie, it's Vi's turn.”

“Come on, Vi, your turn,” Silco says, looking a little amused.

“Yeah, yeah. Hold your horses,” she mumbles, getting to her feet and making her way over to the christmas tree.

Vi crouches down, rummaging through the presents. After a few moments, she finally finds the present. She grabs it, standing back up. She looks over at you, looking a little bit like she's been caught doing something she's not supposed to do.

She makes her way over to where you're sitting, holding out the present. “Here, this one's for you,” she mutters, looking a little tense.

You take the present from her, looking down at it. It's heavy in your hands, the wrapping paper slightly crinkled from how hard she was holding it. “Thanks, Vi,” you say, looking up at her.

“Don't mention it, babe,” she mutters, her voice sounding a bit strained.

Powder and Mylo both let out a chorus of ‘aww’ when they heard her use the nickname.

“Shut up, you two,” she says, glaring at them both.

You start unwrapping the present, tearing off the festive wrapping paper to reveal what's inside.

Once the wrapping paper is off, you're holding a small box. It's plain, made of brown cardboard, and doesn't look like much. But as you look back up at Vi, you can see a hint of nervousness on her face.

She's watching you intently, her expression almost anxious. It's a look you don't often see on her face, and it's a little startling.

Still curious, you glance back down at the box in your hands. You lift off the lid, opening it slowly.

There, nestled in a bed of tissue paper, is a necklace. It's a silver chain with a small silver heart pendant. It looks delicate and beautiful, and judging by the look on Vi's face, she spent a lot of time picking it out.

You slowly reach into the box, lifting the necklace out of the tissue paper. You hold it up, letting the chain dangle from your fingers. It glints in the light, the pendants catching the glow from the Christmas tree lights.

Vi is still watching you intently, her eyes fixed on the necklace. She shifts a little on her feet, looking like she's holding her breath.

“Do you like it?”

You look up from the necklace, meeting her gaze. “Yeah, I do,” you respond, your voice just a little bit shaky. “It's beautiful.”

You hold the necklace in your hand, running your thumb over the pendant. Without even thinking, you reach up and clasp the necklace around your neck.

It fits snugly against your skin, the pendant resting on your collarbone.

You look up, catching Vi watching you as you adjust the necklace. “Looks good on you,” she says, her voice lower than usual.

“Thanks,” you reply, still running your thumb over the pendant.

Mylo and Powder both let out another chorus of ‘aww’ clearly touched by the sight.

Vi shoots them another glare, her eyes narrowing. “Would you two shut up, for Christ's sake?”

“Oh, come on, sis. It's cute” Powder teases.

“Ah, young love,” Silco says.

Vander chuckles, nodding his head. “I remember my younger days.”

“Don't you mean your younger hookups?” Silco shoots back.

Vander grins, holding his hands up. “Guilty as charged.”

Silco laughs, shaking his head. “Some things never change.” Then, he glances around the room, looking for who's turn it is next. “Lasty, who's next?” he asks, looking at everyone present.

You look around, seeing that almost everyone has given out their gift. It's obvious that your turn is next. “I'm up next.”

You get to your feet, making your way over to where the presents are. then you hold the present in your hands, not looking up quite yet. You can feel Vi's eyes on you.

This is it. You take a deep breath and look up, meeting her gaze.

You walk over to her, your heart beating a little faster. You feel a little bit nervous, but you try to push it down.

You stop in front of her, holding out the present. “Here you go, babe.”

Vi's expression softens a bit, her eyes darting down to the gift in your hands. She reaches out and grabs it, looking slightly puzzled.

You watch silently as she unwraps the gift.

Vi looks at it, her eyebrows raised. “Is this... a sweater?” she asks, a little bewildered. It's clearly hand-knit, with uneven stitching and a clashing color scheme.

“I made it myself,”

“You made it?” she asks. “Like, with your own two hands?”

“Obviously..”

“I mean... it's…” she starts, her voice trailing off as she tries to find the right words.

“It's hideous?” you suggest.

She winces a little, looking like she can't deny it. “Yeah, kinda…” she mutters.

“Hey,” you say, mock-indignant. “I spent a lot of time making that, you know.”

“I can tell.”

“Then, try it on.”

Vi hesitates for a moment, looking at you a little warily. “Seriously?”

“Seriously,” you nudge her. “Just try it on, for me.”

She sighs, clearly realizing there's no way out of this. “Fine.”

She pulls it over her head, struggling a bit to get her arms through the sleeves. The fit is a little awkward, and the sweater seems a little too small. But somehow, it kind of makes her look... cute?

She tugs at the sleeves, looking down at herself. “How do I look?”

You pretend to look her over, like you're seriously considering the question. “I dunno,” you reply. “it's... something.”

“Be serious. I look like an idiot, don't I?”

“Don't be like that” you tease, reaching out to straighten the collar of the sweater. “It's not that bad.”

“Not ‘that bad?’” she repeats. “Are you kidding? I look like a walking christmas tree,” she groans, tugging at the sleeves yet again.

“I think you look…. fine”

“That's the best you've got? 'fine?'”

“What do you want me to say?”

“I don't know,” she mutters, sounding slightly petulant. “Something more than just 'fine’”

“Okay, okay,” you say, holding up your hands. “Let me rephrase that, you look…” you pause, scratching your chin “...very christmas-y”

“You really know how to boost a girl's ego.”

“I didn't realize you needed your ego stroked.”

“I don't,” she protests, a little flustered. “I'm just saying, a little bit more enthusiasm would be appreciated.”

Silco clears his throat, drawing everyone's attention. “Ahem, now that the present giving is concluded…” he glances around at the crowd.

Silence falls over the room as everyone waits for Silco to speak. The tick-tock of the grandfather clock is the only sound that can be heard.

Silco glances at the clock, a smile on his face. “It appears to be midnight,” he says, pausing for emphasis. “Which means…”

A chorus of “Merry Christmas!” rises up from the group, everyone sounding festive and cheerful.��

You look back to Vi, who is still fiddling with the sweater. “Merry Christmas,” you whisper, not wanting the others to hear.

She glances at you, a small smile touching her lips. “Merry Christmas to you too,” she replies, her voice just as quiet as yours.

Awkwardly you glance down at the carpet, unsure of what to say next.

“Hey,” she says suddenly, her voice drawing your attention. “Can I talk to you for a second…? In private?”

“Sure,” you agree, following her as she leads you away from the group.

She leads you into a small back room, closing the door behind her. The room is dimly lit, with only a few bare light bulbs lining the walls. Aside from a few boxes and some old crates, the room is empty.

She turns to face you, leaning against the wall. She's quiet for a moment, her gaze averted to the floor. you can tell she's trying to find the right words, fiddling with the hem of the sweater again.

“Listen,” she begins, finally meeting your eyes. “I know this is weird, and I know things are... difficult right now. But…” she pauses, letting out a short sigh. “I just want to say one thing…”

“Go on,” you encourage.

“I…” she starts, then falters. Her tongue darts out to wet her lips, nervousness flitting across her features. Her gaze drops to the floor.

“Well, I just…” her fingers fumble at the edge of her sweater. “I just... I miss you.”

Your heart skips a beat as she finally says the words out loud.

You've been wanting her to say that for weeks, months even. After everything that's happened between the two of you, you desperately wanted to hear those very words fall from her lips. But now that she's saying it...

What the hell do you say to that?

You're speechless, stunned into silence by her honesty. You open your mouth, intending to say something, anything. but words seem completely lost to you at this point. You just stand there, staring at her, dumbfounded.

“Say something,” she finally says, her voice tense. “Say anything. You're just staring at me like an idiot.”

“I don't know what to say.” Because, you really don't know what to say. You have so much you want to say, but somehow the words get stuck in your throat.

“Say you hate me. Say you never want to get back together. Just... say something.”

She's waiting. Waiting for something, anything. An opinion, a response. something, anything from you. But what can you say? Do you tell her the truth—that you've missed her so much you can't even sleep at night? that the last month has felt like a living hell, having no contact with her?

You want to tell her that you hate her for throwing you away just to come back around wanting something from you again, but your tongue feels like cotton.

“Say something… yell at me, curse me out, anything!”

But her tone gets under your skin, and suddenly you feel the anger start to build inside of you.

Who does she think she is, demanding a response from you? she's the one who tossed you aside without a second thought. You're sick of this. You've done everything for her, given her everything she wanted, and here she is, pushing you for more.

It is too much—all too much. Without a word, you turn from her, heading toward the door. You can't do this anymore.

You hear her call out your name as you shove open the door, but you don't stop. You make your way back, stopping at Vander's side.

“Vander, I'm going to head out.”

Vander nods, giving you a knowing look. He can tell something's going on, but he's wise enough not to press the issue.

“Alright, kid,” he says gruffly. “Get some rest, yeah?”

You nod your head, forcing a smile onto your face. “Yeah, I'll try,” you mutter, giving him a wave before starting towards the exit.

When you pass by Silco, he gives you a curious look. You catch his gaze and give him a small nod.

Finally, you make your way out the front door. The cold night air hits your face, making you shiver. You take a deep breath, preparing yourself for the walk home.

But then you hear the door swing open behind you, her footsteps hurry after you.

“Wait!” her voice calls out. “Wait, stop!”

You keep walking, your steps quick. You're trying to get as far away from her as possible to outrun all of the feelings that came rushing back to you—

“Let me walk you home.”

Her words cut through your thoughts, sharp and unexpected. You falter, your steps slowing down.

You stop walking, turning around to face her. “What?”

She's standing there, looking like a kicked puppy. Her shoulders are slumped, her expression sheepish. She can tell you're not happy she's followed you out here, but she looks like she doesn't care.

She lets out a huff, her breath coming out in a white cloud in the cold air. “I just... look, whatever happened in there, whatever happened between us... just let me look out for you. Just let me walk you home. I.. I have to know you're safe.”

“I don't need a babysitter,” you practically growl, your irritation obvious. “I can handle myself.”

Vi flinches at your words, but she doesn't back down. If anything, she squares her shoulders and lifts her chin. “I know you can,” she snaps. “I'm not offering to babysit you. I'm just... I'm just asking to walk you home.”

You glance back at the entrance of their house, the warm lights and sounds spilling out into the cold night air.

You turn back to look at her, your voice softer this time. “You don't have to walk me home. We don't have to keep up the act anymore, I'm going home and... you've got better things to do than worry about me.”

“Screw the act,” she mutters. “I'm walking you home. It's not up for debate.”

You stare at her, baffled by her insistence. “Seriously? What's the point, Vi? We're not together anymore. Why bother?”

Her jaw clenches, her shoulders tensing. You know she hates this. She hates hearing you say it. Her heart is on her sleeve, and you're tearing pieces out of it, right in front of her.

“Because I care!” she snaps. “Maybe it's hard for you to believe, but I still care about you.”

You shake your head, scoffing at her words. “No, no, no, you don't get to act like you care now. You're the one who broke up with me. You're the one who walked away and left me.”

“I made a mistake,okay? I was a damn idiot, and I screwed up.”

“A mistake?” you echo, scoffing again. “You ended everything, and now you want to walk me home? What, you think that makes up for everything? You think it’s that easy? You threw away everything we had like it meant nothing, like all those months we spent together meant nothing.”

Your voice is trembling with anger as you continue. “And then what did you do? You went around, throwing yourself at anyone that gave you a second glance, like I never meant anything to you. Yeah, I know all about that. So don't try to act like you actually care when you clearly didn't give two shits.”

She looks away, her jaw clenching. “I was trying to get over you. I was trying to push you out of my head and it hurts like hell. Every night, every morning, it was like there was a hole inside of me, and no matter how hard I tried to fill it, no matter how many times I went out, how many times I tried to forget you, nothing worked. You were stuck in my head, and I hated it.”

She takes a step closer to you. “I know it sounds stupid. I know it doesn't make any sense. I just... I needed something to distract me, something to keep me from thinking about you. Because it hurt too damn much to think about how much I messed things up.”

“Yeah, congrats. You did a damn good job at distracting yourself, huh? It sure as hell didn't take you very long to get over me.”

She winces again, the guilt written all over her face. “You have no idea how many times I wanted to reach out to you. How many times I thought about coming back to you and begging you to take me back.”

“But you didn't,” you say. “You didn't reach out to me, you didn't try to fix things. So why should I believe you now? Why should I believe that you're sincere when you didn't care enough to fight for us before?”

She looks down, unable to meet your gaze. “What was I supposed to do?” she whispers. “I messed up. I messed things up and I don't know how to fix it. I don’t know how to take back what I did, how to make things like they were before I messed up. All I know is that I miss you. I miss you so damn much, and I’d do anything to have you back.”

You swallow hard, your throat suddenly dry. Everything she's saying, it's everything you've wanted to hear for months. It feels like a dream.

But you can’t let yourself fall back into this. Not when you’ve worked so hard to move on. Not when you’ve spent so many nights crying into your pillow, reminding yourself that she didn’t care enough to fix things, to fight for you.

“Why now—Why do you want me back now, after all this time? Why didn’t you want me back when it mattered, when I needed you?”

She looks up at you, desperation in her eyes. “Because I was an idiot! Because I was stupid, and scared, and I thought walking away would make it easier, but it just made it worse. Because I spent every damn night regretting that I let you go and wishing that I could take it all back. I'm sorry. I'm so damn sorry for what I put you through.”

“Sorry doesn't fix things,” you say, your voice shaking. “Sorry doesn't take away the pain, sorry doesn't undo what you did.”

She nods, a tear slipping down her cheek. “I know saying sorry won't magically fix things, but I am sorry. I'm sorry for hurting you, I'm sorry for walking away, I'm sorry for everything I did wrong. Just... just give me a chance. Give me a chance to make things right.”

She takes another step forward, her eyes pleading. “Give me a chance. Let me prove to you that I love you and that I want to make things right. If I screw up again, you can toss me to the curb and never speak to me again. But please, just give me one more chance.”

“I don't know,” you murmur. “I just... I don't know.”

“I'll do anything. I'll get on my knees every day if I have to. I'll beg on my hands and knees. I'll crawl on my hands and knees. I'll grovel on the ground. Just... please, just give me one chance.”

“I'll think about it. Just...just give me some time to think things over.”

“Okay, okay. I'll give you time or whatever you need. Just please don’t shut me out completely.”

Without hesitation, she envelops you in a tight hug. Her arms wrap around your waist, her face burying into your neck. Her body clings to you, every part of her desperate and needy. “I miss you so much,” she mumbles.

You stand awkwardly, unsure of what to do. But then, your body betrays you, your arms slowly wrapping around her.

For the first time in a long while, you're holding her again. Her warmth, her scent, her touch—it’s all so familiar, so painfully familiar. So damn familiar that it hurts.

“I hate you.”

“I don't blame you,” she pulls back a little, her hands coming up to cup your face.

She lifts her hand, brushing a lock of hair away from your face. “I hate you so much,” you repeat, a tear falling down your cheek.

“I deserve that,” she says, her thumbs gently wiping away your tear.

“Damn right you do.”

You have no idea what to do or what to feel. Everything is a mess, and you're drowning in it.

For now, all you could do was hold her tight and bury your face in her shoulder.

You hated how good she felt against you and how right it felt to be held by her. You hated the way your heart skipped a beat whenever she whispered in your ear.

Damn her for making things so confusing, for making you feel so damn much.

You felt her hand rubbing your back, her fingers tracing circles over your skin. It was a soothing gesture, a silent apology for all the pain she had caused. It only made things worse, making your heart ache even more.

If only things had been different. If only she had been more communicative. If only she had been more sensitive to your feelings. If only she had been there for you when you needed her.

If only she hadn’t walked away and left you broken. If only she hadn’t hurt you the way she had.

And most of all, if only you had been strong enough to push her away and protect yourself from this mess.

But here you are, standing in the middle of a street wrapped in her arms. You felt like a fool, like a damn idiot, for still wanting her after everything.

You wanted to hate her, you wanted to make her suffer the way you had suffered.

But how could you hate her when she was looking at you like that? how could you hate her when she was holding you like this?

It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that she still had this kind of effect on you.

Her eyes met yours, and you saw everything you had missed, everything you had longed for. and you knew, right then, that you were in damn trouble.

—

In the window, Vander and Silco watched you and Vi from afar, the soft glow of the christmas lights casting shadows over their faces.

Silco takes a drag of his cigarette, the smoke curling around him as he exhales. “Your little plan worked quite well,” he says, looking at Vander with a sly smile.

Vander just shrugs, sipping his drink. “I don’t know what you are talking about,” he replies, keeping his expression neutral.

“You're not fooling anyone.”

Vander hums, taking another sip of his drink. “I don't know what you mean,” he says again, keeping his gaze locked on you and Vi.

Silco let out a puff of smoke, a smirk playing on his lips. “Don't play coy, Vander. You knew damn well what you were doing when you rigged that secret santa.”

“I may have had a little influence,” he admits.

“A little influence? oh, don't downplay it. You wanted them back together, and you knew exactly how to make it happen.”

“I have had a hunch that they still cared about each other,” he says, his voice casual. “And plus, I don't want to see Vi moping around for the past months.”

“And we couldn't have that, could we? seeing her moping around like a lovestruck puppy.”

Vander nods. “She was really terrible at hiding it,” he says. “always pacing around, always looking like she lost a puppy.”

Silco takes another drag of his cigarette, blowing rings into the air. “It was painful to watch,” he says, shaking his head.

“It was like watching a kid trying to hide a secret… I just hope they figure things out.”

“I agree,” Silco says, his eyes flickering over to you and Vi. “Hopefully they can work things out.”

Vander hums in agreement. “Only time will tell.”

They watch in silence for a moment, seeing how you and Vi are still holding each other.

“I still wouldn't forgive you for that damn underwear you got me.”

“That was the funniest thing you could have received.”

Vander grumbles, narrowing his eyes at Silco. “I do not find it funny to receive underwear as a gift.”

notes: idk what is happening

#arcane #vi #arcane vi #vi arcane #violet arcane #arcane x reader #arcane x female reader #arcane x you #vi x reader #vi x female reader #vi x you #vi x y/n #vi imagines #violet x reader #I LOVE SILCO AND VANDER #fluff #angst #found family #christmas

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mggslover · 1 month ago

Text

Through thin walls

In which Spencer finds solace in the sounds of his new neighbor.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader Genre: smut (18+) Content warnings: perv!spence, mutual masturbation Word count: 1,7k A/n: i wanted to write a smut with a more sensual, almost poetic approach?? let me know what you think of it bc i truly don’t know how to feel about it… also tell me if you'd be interested in a part two where they would meet!

Spencer wasn’t one to find much solace in sleep.

Once, it had offered him comfort, a refuge where he could momentarily let go of his worries. But that was before his dreams started to haunt him. He was often praised for his eidetic memory, but what people failed to consider was that it also meant remembering your worst memories in precise, vivid detail.

Of course Spencer was aware of how crucial sleep was, how sleep deprivation could wear a person down to the point of breaking them. But when sleep was the very thing that tore at him, what good was it? He did try to rest—clinging to the rare moments on the jet, where the hum of the engines and the presence of the team offered a shield against the nightmares that awaited him. But in the stillness of his own bed, the darkness pressed in, suffocating him until sleep became a burden he couldn’t bear.

When Spencer prepared for another attempt at sleep, he braced himself for the familiar routine: tossing and turning in tangled sheets, silently reciting The Parliament of Fowls in a desperate effort to reclaim the peace it once gave him—back when his mother would read it to him as a child. He’d pace to the kitchen for a warm glass of milk, anything to calm his restless mind, only for the alarm to blare the moment his head hit the pillow.

What he didn’t expect, though, was to hear a sound from the other side of the wall.

Soft at first, like it was testing the air—a breath, a hum, something faint but undeniably there. Spencer sat up against the headboard, his face turned toward the shared wall. The walls in his apartment were thin, but he hadn’t heard anything from next door in ages, not since his neighbor had moved out.

He waited patiently, listening, and then—there it was again. A faint gasp followed by a low moan. Spencer’s breath hitched as he made out that the sound came from a woman. He tensed, his mind immediately jumping to conclusions. Was she hurt? His pulse quickened. The moan was deeper this time, echoed by a soft, shaky exhale.

He pressed his ear closer to the wall, straining to make out the sounds. A faint shuffle of movement reached him next, followed by a distant buzzing. Was someone else with her? His thoughts raced as he waited, not sure whether to jump to action.

The sounds didn’t stop. In fact, they seemed to intensify, morphing into a rhythmic string of moans, sounding almost…sensual.

Spencer sat frozen as the realization hit him. His stomach fluttered, a flush creeping up his neck and across his face as he struggled to grasp what was happening. He should turn away, should stop listening, but the sounds—her sounds—kept pulling him in. Her soft whimpers seemed to draw out something deep inside of him, an unfamiliar curiosity.

Another moan sounded, higher pitched, followed by a low, drawn-out whine that made Spencer flinch. His eyes squeezed shut in an attempt to stop the flood of thoughts from rushing in, but it felt like his body was magnetized to the sound. There was nothing but that—the rasp of her breath, the unmistakable signs of pleasure seeping through the thin wall.

The sound of buzzing grew louder, and when a curse left the lips of the women next door, Spencer couldn’t help but let a deep groan escape from his throat. He quickly bit down on his lower lip, heart pounding in his chest. The sounds from the other side of the wall abruptly stopped, and for a moment, the silence was deafening. He held his breath, muscles tensed, every nerve on edge, waiting for what might come next. It felt like an eternity before the buzzing started again—this time softer, but still unmistakable. Spencer let out a long, shaky exhale, the weight in his chest lifting slightly.

Spencer was a firm believer of the mind having control over the body. He’s seen enough cases where people’s minds compelled them to commit horrific acts they wouldn’t have otherwise. In Spencer’s case he’d learned to ignore the nudges of his body, quickly pushing his desires aside as a mere biological function he shouldn’t linger on for too long. Maybe it was his lack of sleep, or the desperation for a change of routine—because this time around his body was getting the best of him.

The tightness in his pants grew simultaneously with the pretty sounds next door. His hand clenched around the fabric of his sheets, but it didn’t stop the tension building inside of him.

He tried to shift his focus back to something logical. Distracting himself by thinking back on his chemistry thesis on Dipole-Dipole forces, how simple the alignment of the polar molecules sounded, but how complex it actually is—how the bond isn’t as intense as with ions, but something that builds steadily over time, almost imperceptibly at first, until it becomes undeniable.

As his mind went on thinking about the invisible, magnetic pull between the opposing charges, he couldn’t help but notice the similarities with the situation he was in. She, like a molecule with her own electric field, creating a captivating attraction, slowly drawing him in with every sweet sound that escaped her lips. He could only wonder what would happen the moment they would meet—if their charged particles aligned—how it could release something greater than either of them could anticipate.

He imagined the woman next door. He pictured her as a shadow first—a soft silhouette just beyond his reach, blurred by the apartment wall. But in his thoughts, the edges of her figure sharpened.

He wondered if she was touching herself, if her hands were trailing along her body in the same way he traced her in his mind. He wondered what her skin would feel like under his fingertips. Would it be soft, the kind that invited touch? Or would the gentle curve of her shoulders be warmer, more textured and defined?

His hand moved without permission, fingers tracing his own jaw, his eyes fluttering close. His fingers brushed against his neck, leaving a trace of goosebumps in its wake. He couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to touch her there, to feel the pulse beneath her skin.

Another moan slipped through the wall, soft and pleading. Would she react the same way if I touched her? The thought sent a jolt of heat through him. Spencer’s hand twitched as he unbuttoned the buttons of his shirt, his hand gliding over his bare chest.

Each breath, each noise from her, felt like a thread pulling him closer to the edge, closer to her. His body moved on his own accord. His hand slipped beneath the waistband of his pants, and he’s hit with the sensation of warmth and need.

He wondered if she knew how beautiful she sounded. If she was even aware of how loud she was. Or maybe she simply didn’t care. Maybe she liked how much she affected him with her whimpers and gasps.

He imagined the way her body would move, the soft rise and fall of her chest, the delicate arch of her back as she gave herself over to the sensation. He could almost feel it—like a phantom touch—her skin against his, the way she would shudder beneath him, lost in the same heat he was drowning in now.

His hand drifted lower, unable to stop. He pictured pressing her body into the sheets, hearing her moan against his ear as he would lean in and hide his face into the crook of her neck. He wondered whether she would surrender herself to the pleasure or try gaining more by wrapping her legs around him, pulling him closer. Whether she would like him to take it slow, savoring every touch, or if she would want him to be rough, to make her feel an ecstasy she hasn’t experienced before.

Another sharp gasp came from the other side of the wall. Spencer stifled a groan as his hand moved more urgently, guided by his growing pleasure. He couldn’t think. Couldn’t focus. Fully consumed by the thought of her—so close, yet still so out of reach.

Spencer wasn’t sure where his sounds began and where hers ended. He was swallowed by the overwhelming sensation, his mind too hazy to make out the border between reality and his imagination. His grip on himself tightened, spurred on by her sounds that seemed to match his own rhythm.

She had slipped so deeply into his mind that he could feel her, in every breath, in every shiver of his skin. Spencer felt it in his chest, the way his breath quickened, the way the pressure built. She had become more than just the sounds next door, more than a figment of his imagination. She had become a need. And in this moment, he had no choice but to follow where it led.

Her moans became more frequent. Spencer’s body responded instantly. His hand moved faster, drawn by the pulse of her release, feeling the way it thrummed through him as though they were one.

He could almost see her—her legs writhing, her eyes closed, her lips parted in that delicate, breathless moan. His mind painted the picture so clearly, it felt as though she were right in front of him.

Her release ignited his, a wave of heat rolled through him, pulling him under. His breath caught, his body shaking as he followed her, their climaxes crashing together—separate, yet so intimately tied.

As his breath slowed, Spencer lay still, his mind buzzing with the aftershocks of what had just happened. He could still hear her lingering moans in his mind, like a melody he couldn’t shake. His heartbeat, once frantic and wild, slowed to a steady rhythm. The air in the room felt lighter, less suffocating, the weight of longing finally lifted from his chest.

The exhaustion that pressed down on him was different from the nights before. It wasn’t the weariness of a restless mind, of memories from the past gnawing at him. It was the deep, almost tender exhaustion that followed from his release.

Tonight, there were no nightmares waiting at the edge of his consciousness. Just quiet. Just calm. Just her.

PART TWO

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid imagine #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fic #criminal minds x you #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid

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finniestoncrane · 9 months ago

Note

Virginal vault dweller reader you say?? I'd eat that up (and so would Cooper, heh) but seriously I would read the hell out of that if you're up for it <3

Different Up Here

Cooper Howard x Fem!Reader, word count: 6.3k anon thank you lmao i had already started drafting this, so vault dweller reader isn't quite a virgin but they are definitely inexperienced and have never known pleasure like the kind that cooper can offer 🤎 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: power imbalance, dubious consent because once you've said yes to cooper you can't change your mind, overstimulation, crying, oral sex, fingering, instructional, full penetration babiessss i realised i never tag that shit but yeah it's in here lmao, cumming inside, no protection, sweet coop afterwards but only briefly

If anyone else had asked you in that moment how you were, you couldn't have answered accurately without any hint of sarcasm and irritation. You were being worn down, like buildings by the sands of the desert. Each little molecule of your optimism being torn away from you, painful like plucking a hair. But when Cooper asked you, you tried your best to push down your knee jerk response.

"Let's see, shall we? Since leaving the vault a month ago, bravely in search of resources and supplies for my friends, I have killed, maimed, and eaten things I hope to never think of again. I'm in a constant cycle of very, very stressed and then very, very bored where there is no happy medium between fearing for my life and wishing for death. And oh, by the way, I'm sweating buckets the whole time because it's deathly fucking warm. Thank you for asking, Cooper!"

Instead, you shrugged and offered him at least a partial truth.

"It sounds silly... but I'm kind of bored."

A dry chuckle passed over Cooper's lips.

"Heh, that's a new one for out here."

Sensing an opportunity to at least get some conversation out of him, you sat up on the rusty bed frame, your body sinking into the almost entirely flattened mattress as you crossed your legs and did your best to get Cooper to talk more than a sentence at a time.

"Really? I would have thought you'd be bored a lot, especially when there's no raiders, or mirelurks, or scavengers, or feral ghouls, or super mutants, or roving gangs of-"

"See, this is why I'm never bored. Always somethin' or someone to be killin'."

"But what about like... now? When there's nothing else to do. There's no magazines, no books, no TV."

You watched as Cooper turned from you with a slight smile. You knew the one, the familiar grin that meant you'd divulged some information about your life in the vaults, something he always found so amusing. It was your naivety, your optimism. He was endlessly fascinated by it, as though listening to you talk about it reminded him of something he had before.

That fascinated you. It made you want to stay around him, the way he listened silently as you talked about the old films that were on the holotapes, the food that was still fresh and available, the music you could hear whenever you wanted to, not reliant on some two-bit radio host. He paid attention to you. And any time his deep, brown eyes focused on your lips it made your heart flutter in an admittedly unexpected manner.

Remembering that feeling, you tried again, hoping that your next approach might be something that interested him a little more than just conversation.

"You know how we used to pass time in the vaults?"

Over the sound of the evening breezes that whipped up the sand you could still hear Cooper sigh before he spoke.

"Now if you tell me that you wanna go out there again tonight to find an old blast radius board... well I am just going to have to shoot you."

You laughed at what you hoped was a joke and waved him off, despite the fact that he was still turned away from you, unable to see your gesture as he tried ignoring you in what you assumed was the hope that you might shut up and leave him alone.

"No, no no no no no. Just..."

The lump in your throat felt like it was about to choke you, so you swallowed the clump of nerves quietly, your voice trembling as you finished your sentence.

"... fooling around... y'know?"

Cooper turned to face you. You had piqued his interest, and you couldn't help but show the giddy glee on your face, the smallest smile crossing your lips as your eyes widened. But his words wiped away all hope that you had garnered in that short span of time.

"Oh... oh darlin'."

He laughed a little, each little sound of the short, sharp giggle like a slap to the face.

"I don't think you're ready for that at all."

You raised an eyebrow, defiant, irritated, and keen to know how he thought he had you pegged so quickly. You'd never talked about anything like that with him before. Was he assuming that you were a virgin based on how you behaved around him alone? Maybe he figured that the lack of flirting on your part was down to a complete lack of experience, when in reality, it was because every flirtatious quip he threw your way made you so nervous and flustered you felt like you might throw up.

"How come I'm not ready? I mean, I've... I've done stuff... I've done it!"

"The fat you're not saying it how it is makes me think that you are absolut-"

"I've had sex, Cooper. I've fucked before. I've been fucked."

Blinking off the irritation at being interrupted by you, Cooper pushed up the brim of his hat and stared directly at you, as though he was examining your, to see if you would stand up for yourself any further.

"By who? One of your little buddies underground? Fucking like little bunnies? I don't think that qualifies you, sweetheart."

"Why? Sex is sex..."

You said it with such confidence. As if you really knew. As if you hadn't spent your teenage years practising on your hand, holding a pillow close, lining up for that one girl in the vault who would sell practice kisses for extra bubble-gum. You'd had sex before, of course. You weren't a liar. Just because you'd only ever done it once didn't render it nonfactual. Just because it had only lasted for all of four minutes. Just because you weren't sure you even orgasmed, and your friend had told you that you'd know if you'd orgasmed. Just because it was all over so quickly, and he'd run off before anyone could catch you both, avoiding you at every opportunity after that.

"... Isn't it?"

"Oh no it ain't. Besides, like I keep telling you, it's different up here. Everything's different up here. And that includes fuckin'."

The way he said the word, consonants enunciated with such grit and vigour, filled your stomach with knots that began to tighten as you considered in what way things were so different.

"What exactly do you mean by that?"

Cooper sighed, exasperated, resigning himself to the fact that you were going to keep talking to him regardless of his short replies and attempts to end the conversation.

"You are a dog with a bone, huh? Ain't gonna let it go."

His yellowed teeth were exposed as his lips pulled back in a baring, mischievous smile. Those knots doubled, the ends being pulled by tension in your nervous system as Cooper's smirk put you into a dazed stupor.

"No, sir."

"Now, I don't remember signing on to be your personal tutor in all things apocalypse. Do I really need to show you how everything works up here?"

As your cheeks began to blush, you nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes, sir."

You were hopeful for just a bit of a distraction. Something to help take the stress away. To relieve the tension that had been building up between you and Cooper as of late. You'd been studying him, watching the way he looked at you, fascinated by your perceived, and frankly obvious, innocence. The way his fingers moved, contributing to the skilful way he handled his gun and his ropes. The confidence, the charisma, the charms.

You wanted him, but you weren't quite sure how to broach the situation without it seeming desperate. But you were past that now. You were desperate For anything, just something. Something to cure the monotony of walking and hiding and fighting and surviving. You didn't want to just survive. You wanted to at least find a semblance of fun and pleasure in this nightmare you had found yourself in. And in the vaults, when board games and books and debates got boring, there was always fucking. That was what you desired most right now. The fact that Cooper happened to be the closest target for your desires was just a sweet miracle, or a cruel tease depending on how willing he was.

And luckily, he seemed agreeable.

"Well then, how about you come over here and let ol' Coop show you a little thing or two about how dirty you can really get up here in the mean, dusty Wasteland, hm?"

Your excitement was palpable, even though you were trying to keep your composure. There was no escaping the echo of the giddy squeal you let out as you jumped up from the bed and made your way over to Cooper. He waited in the far corner of the room, setting himself down on an old armchair as you stepped towards him, slapping his thighs as an indication of where he wanted you. And you did as you were told, following his instructions, knowing they hadn't led you astray so far in your time together.

It felt awkward at first, being so close to him. You shifted your weight nervously, trying to get comfortable while making sure Cooper was still at ease, which of course, he was. He always was. Nothing stirred him, he was forever at peace. Competent in any situation. Quick to adapt. And as you fidgeted and fussed, you felt his strong hands pushing you forward on his lap, until your chests were practically pressed together, his hands skirting over your lower back as he held you still. In command. In control. The sudden sensation of his hands on your body made your breath hitch, a soft, surprised squeal on the inhale that had Cooper raising his brow at you.

"Now... you agree that you asked for this, alright? Because I am not going to put my effort into entertaining your little whims if you're gonna get fussy and decide it's too much for you. I did warn you."

"Yes, you did, and I really don't think you needed to. I doubt there's too much different about it, and I've picked up what I needed to know pretty quickly from your other lessons, haven't I?"

Your retaliation to his insistence that you needed him to teach you everything, and that some things just might prove themselves a little too hard even for your levels of enthusiasm, had irritated him when he'd first met you. But now your optimism and sheer refusal to believe anything was too much for you were a source of entertainment for him. A challenge.

"That's fine then, darlin'. But I'll remember that."

His eyes bore into your soul, keeping your focus on him as he dared you to look away. They sparkled as he ran his tongue over his lips, the pretence of preparing for his next words covering the obvious flirtation in the way he dragged the flat muscle along his chapped skin.

"So, gimme a benchmark here, lil lady. How much foreplay was involved in your previous encounters? I'd hate to leave you high and dry."

"Foreplay...? What... uh, what is that?"

Cooper sighed, rolling his eyes before closing his eyelids over gently.

"Well, it's something like this."

He pushed a loose strand of hair back behind your ear, rough fingers following the curve and grazing over your neck as he let them drift down the front of your chest, tickling the exposed skin as far as your jumpsuit would allow before he took a hold of the zip at the front. A quick flit of his eyes up to you seemed to ask for permission, and your small, almost imperceptible nod, told him to keep going.

Slowly, painfully so, he pulled the zip down, watching as the centre of your torso was slowly revealed to him. Smooth skin, in comparison to his anyway, clear of any unnatural blemishes or war wounds. One calloused digit followed down your sternum to your stomach and back up, hooking under the left side of the fabric and pulling it over, then the other, exposing the top half of your body to him.

Cooper traced his fingertips over the top of your breasts, watching as your chest moved in and out, slowly, but exaggeratedly. The knots in your stomach felt like they might burst with the tension as his sharp, ragged nails crossed over your hardening nipples, a gentle tingle coursing through your veins.

"Well?"

"No... n-nothing like that... just grabbing..."

"Oh yeah? You like that? How about this?"

He closed two fingers around your nipple, one hand still on your back to keep you balanced as your body reacted to his touch. Between the two digits, you felt your nipples heating up, the slight, burning pain from the way he squeezed them sending a signal down your spine that seemed to affect every part of you. Tighter, tighter, and then as your eyes closed a little more, eyelids pressed tight, he would ease up to offer some relief.

"You like that? Like it rough?"

"I think... I think I like both."

"So, something like this?"

He teased your nipples once more, pressing harder with his fingertips, pulling them out and jiggling your breasts as he tugged at them, this lewder act interspersed with a gentle caress as he held your breast against the palm of his hand, carefully cupping it as he flicked his thumb over the sensitive and completely erect nipple.

You bit your lip, trying to keep quiet, Coop's hand moved swiftly from your body to your cheeks, popping the lip back out as he pressed his thumb and forefinger into your face. Understanding the message, and seemingly showing this in your wide-eyed gaze, he let his rough, leathery hand make its way back down to your breast, cupping it once more as he spoke.

"Different, see? Pleasure is hard to come by out here. You gotta do it right when you've got the chance."

Cooper leaned into your neck, whispering the words low and slowly, his dry, chapped lips skimming over your skin as he continued.

"I bet down there they didn't know the first thing about real pleasure. Takes time, something like that. You gotta learn the body, gotta make it feel good."

His teeth grazed over your shoulder and back up along your neck before he pulled back, watching your eyes refocus from the haze of arousal.

"Did they make you feel good?"

"No."

You were confident in that statement. It hadn't felt good. It felt rushed. Clumsy. Shameful. And as you pondered it, your mouth remained open in a slight pout which trembled as Cooper asked his next question.

"And what about your pretty lips... did they kiss them?"

"A little..."

Cooper leaned in, his rough lips pressing onto yours with firm contact, his tongue staying in place as though he imagined that might be a bit too much for you right now. But that same level of restraint didn't keep him from letting his teeth catch onto your bottom lip, pulling it out, only letting go when you winced in surprise as the suddenness of the action.

"Didn't bite them either. Of course not, what am I thinking? That would be a little too adventurous for your kind."

His face took on a darker tone as he smiled knowingly towards you.

“And what about these pretty lips?”

Before you could piece together the question, his hand was diving into your jumpsuit, pushing down the front and past the waist, stroking against the front of your underwear which, by now, was soaking wet with your arousal.

“They touch these lips, huh?”

You gasped as he pushed your underwear to the side, stroking his fingers along your slick, plump pussy lips, withdrawing them soon after to taste you on his tongue, the way you had watched him taste the blood of enemies, the blood of victims.

“Stand up, darlin’… Why don’t you take that suit off, hm? Get yourself comfy.”

As you raised yourself up from his hips, your legs wobbled under you, not quite steady enough to support you so soon after being reduced to jelly by Cooper’s touch, his caramelised words that filled your ears, the sharp twang of his accent, the delicate cadence, the power rumbling underneath like an almost silent bassline.

“Do it slowly though.”

Cooper watched carefully as you stood nervously before him, shuffling out of your suit, stripping for him, your hips moving from side to side slow and steady, unintentionally sultry in the way you moved. Without taking his eyes from you he reached for his canteen, taking a long sip from it as you let your suit fall down over your legs, stepping out of it and pushing it to the side with your feet.

“That’s it, darlin’. Can’t do this half-hearted. I need to have access to all of you there. Now come sit back down.”

You held your arms in front of you, feeling far too exposed for the shelter you’d found for the evening. No windows, no locks on the doors. But it was difficult to focus on that worry for too long as you watched Cooper’s tongue flit back out over his lips, clear strands of drool sparkling in the light as he took you in, hungrily, dreamily.

“Turn around though. You face that way.”

The metal buttons on the front of his duster coat were cold against the skin of your back, but you leaned into them anyway. Cooper’s hand curved around your neck and up under your chin, holding your face forward.

“You keep an eye out, holler if you see anything coming. I’ll do everything else.”

A faint clicking sound, the safety on his gun being flicked to off, before those same fingers draped over your mound and down on to your lips, spreading them apart, the cool air of the decrepit room cooling the heat of your hot, aching cunt. With two fingers holding your lips apart, he let the middle digit tap against your clit, each tiny sensation turning your blood cold before heating it exponentially, a cold sweat beginning to form on your brow as you felt a tingle in your abdomen.

The finger that tapped the sensitive bud began stroking it from side to side, laying flat against it length wise as Cooper strummed your body, still holding your chin in his hands, smiling to himself every time your back arched away from him in intense pleasure. Every nerve-ending was at his mercy. He was right, it was different up here. But you wondered how much of that was the Wasteland and it’s effect on sexuality and pleasure, and how much of it was just him. Cooper Howard, Wasteland bounty hunter, a past life he refused to talk about, the most charismatic monster you had ever met. His fingers, daintily crossing over your clit, as you felt his breath, silent except for an occasional hum of satisfaction in the form of a long moan. Maybe it was just Cooper who was different.

It was hard to focus on this new line of though as his hard fingertips clamped down on your clit, pinching it as he rolled it between his fingers. Even harder when he let his hand drop from your neck and instead began teasing at your nipples once more. Soft, cruel flicks over the hardened bumps, his fingers at work on your body, his lips kissing at the back of your neck. Moans growing louder, more frequent, as he let himself enjoy the act of making you squirm. You could tell he was having fun, as you rolled your hips back a little, feeling the thick bulge of his stiffening cock against your rear. You wondered how it might feel, how it might look, and what he could do differently with it.

“Cooper… Coop… I think I’m going to cum…”

His movements quickened, cock twitching against your body as he pinched tighter and pressed his fingers harder against your cunt.

“Don’t you dare, little lady.”

“Ok I’ll… I’ll try but… you have to… stop… please stop… Coop…”

He ignored your please, the whining, desperate begging as you tried to stop your body from the natural, encouraged reaction.

“Have some self-control, sweetheart.”

“Cooper, I really can’t… please… please stop touching me…”

“I absolutely will not.”

Your fingers dug into his thighs, but you noticed that you refused to move away from him. You wanted to do as he asked, wanted to hold yourself back from the brink of orgasm to prolong his touch, but you couldn’t risk him actually stopping, fearing that your body might crumble if his fingers left your quivering, pathetic body for only a second.

Each stroke against your increasingly wet and sensitive pussy had you trembling and shaking, and Cooper had to remove his hand from your breast to keep you steady, placing it under your chin and holding you steady by the neck.

“I am warning you, missy.”

“Cooper… I can’t stop…”

You shuddered and whined as your body gave in to the temptation, feeling a rush of heat and relief as you came on his lap, your arousal coating his pants, adding to the collection of stains and wear on them. But he didn’t stop then.

“No wait… seriously, Cooper… I can’t… I can’t take much more, honestly…”

“Listen, I told you. I said you better not cum. I wasn’t done with you yet.”

Your eyes began to sting with tears of exasperation as your body kept on pushing to its limits, conjuring up another wave of climax, tormenting you with never-ending bouts of arousal that kept you rutting against him, despite how painful it was to keep writhing into his body. You could feel your stomach knotting again, not much time between each orgasm to relax, and you dug your hands into his thighs, pushing your body up off of him as you tensed completely.

“Ok, this time, you do it on my command. You do it when I say you can, alright?”

“Cooper…”

“Don’t give me that pleading shit, you asked me to show you how things are done. Well this is how Cooper fuckin’ Howard does things. So are you ready? You gonna come for me?”

“C-coop… I’ll… I’ll try…”

“Good girl, now you keep that mouth making those whines and moans. I don’t need you to call out my name or anything, I know I’m all you’re thinking about.”

The praise, the self-confidence, the way his fingers seemed to be pulling your orgasm out, motioning for it to come closer to him.

“Come on, darlin’, come on…”

Your vision blurred as the climax came over you, body rolling and convulsing as you came once more at Cooper’s insistence, your cheeks stained with tears, salted water rolling through the layers of grime and clearing paths to your chin.

As you settled back down onto his lap with a shudder, you felt Cooper’s fingers stroking through your hair. He was surprisingly gentle, oddly calm, but you supposed that you deserved his kindness as you had done as he had asked, making up for your previous indiscretion. He was almost cooing, shushing you as you found your breath, establishing your sense of self once more after the overstimulating orgasm that shook your core.

“You seen enough of the big bad world for one day then?”

You probably had, but you still found yourself shaking your head, ignoring the way your body reacted with a violent twitch at the notion of Cooper’s hands delivering intense pleasure.

“A glutton for punishment, hm? Or just keen to learn?”

As you pondered your answer, Cooper seemed to have come to the conclusion for you, as he tapped your hips and began to shift underneath you.

“Alright then, get onto your knees.”

Positioning yourself at his feet, you couldn’t help but look up at him, catching his eyes as he looked down at you with that unique brand of disdain and intrigue he had somehow mastered. You knew what was coming, what was about to happen, and your mouth began watering at the thought. What he might taste like. What he might look like.

You didn’t have to imagine for long though, as you could see his fingers working the belt of his pants, loosening it, unzipping his fly, and gripping his semi-erect cock at the base as he took it out, brandishing it. He kept close attention on your own eyes, a soft sigh of relief imperceptibly escaping his chest as he noticed your pupils widen, your mouth opening in preparation for him.

It was exactly as you had expected. The texture of the shaft was similar to that of his cheeks and his forearms, a similar colouring, though darker at the base and on the shaft which was tinted red. Thick, purple tinged veins covered it, winding around the length, cutting across the ridges of the scars.

“You can come closer, darlin’. I don’t know what they told you about mutations and radiation effects down there in your little utopia, but I can assure you… it doesn’t bite.”

The fear was palpable, clearly, but it was nothing to do with Cooper’s body and everything to do with your lack of experience, which, despite you arguing otherwise, was becoming plainly obvious even to you. You had only ever touched a cock with your hands outside of being quickly fucked. Several times you’d been cajoled into quickly stroking an erection under the blankets before your partner ran off to the bathroom, clean and tidy, flushing away the sins. And you were very well aware that there was always the option to suck on one, but it had never presented itself. It had never seemed that appealing to you. Until you were faced with Cooper’s.

He hadn’t even asked you to do either yet, but you found yourself curious, salivating over the thought of him, mind racing as you imagined how he might feel against your tongue.

“Can I taste it… you?”

Cooper smiled warmly, one of the few times you had seen him look at you with genuine pride.

“Now that is using your initiative. Of course you can.”

You kept your hands to yourself as you leaned in towards his body, content to let Cooper wield his length at you, his hand firm around the base as you inched closer, tongue pressed out over your lips. A strand of drool collected and spilled forward, hitting the floor in a soft patter just before the tip of your tongue came into contact with the tip of his cock.

A lot of the movements were instinctual, following your desires more than what you thought might be protocol as you dragged your tongue up the shaft and swirled over the blushing head of his cock. It tasted bitter, but in a pleasant way. Savoury, not sweet. Salted, a tang that stayed there for a few seconds after your tongue had moved on to another spot. A flavour you found yourself craving now.

Cooper gripped tighter and pushed forward, taking you by surprise as he slid himself into your mouth, his free hand moving to the back of your head, fingers curling into your hair. As the taste of him hit the back of your tongue, cock almost touching your throat, you coughed and spluttered a little.

“Fuck me, darlin’… do you need me to show you how to do this too?”

He looked down at you, filled with pity as he saw your face. Red cheeks, puffed out, lips stretched over the girth of his cock, tears welling up in your eyes as you struggled to breathe.

“Breath through your nose… breathe in…”

You followed his instructions, instantly calmed when you found your lungs filling with air once more. Almost immediately back to enjoying yourself, the feeling of Cooper inside of you, the control he had as he held your head against him.

“Now… you don’t want to choke too much, so keep your tongue flat… yeah, just like that…”

It was so much easier like that, and you could feel your cheeks getting warmer and redder as you realised that not only had you embarrassed yourself with your spluttering and lack of knowledge, but that Cooper had clearly done this a lot.

“And your teeth… well, usually they’ll tell you to keep ‘em outta the way, but you know me… gotta be different…”

Taking the hint, you let your jaw close slightly, the pain of the stretch lessened, your teeth scraping along the top of his shaft as your tongue worked the underneath, sucking and rolling as much as you could while keeping it flat.

He didn’t say much else, and you couldn’t tell if he was particularly enjoying himself. It worried you, the fact that he had specific preferences, the way it was so clear how much more experienced he was than you. How many others had there been? And were they all better than you? As your mind wandered to your anxieties, you completely missed the fact that you had begun to drool all over yourself until Cooper relaxed his grip on your head and wiped at your chin with his thumb. Catching your eyes and sensing some of your worries, he was surprisingly quick to soothe you.

“You can swallow or spit or let it all spill out, I don’t mind makin’ a mess darlin’. But whatever you’re doing, you keep that up.”

You were so pathetically grateful for the encouragement, for the tiniest semblance of praise, that you felt yourself moaning involuntarily. The soothing motion of sucking on his cock, the taste of something new, the comforting knowledge that he was happy with your efforts. You could feel your clit throbbing, aroused by Cooper’s satisfaction, how pleased he was with the way you worked him over.

Which is why it surprised you so much when he pulled his cock from your mouth, your lips slipping off of it with a disgustingly lewd popping sound, drool spilling onto your chin in long strands which stretched from your lips to his cock and tore apart as he distanced himself from you.

And again, that sympathetic gaze, the way he could tell what you were thinking before you even said it.

“Oh, don’t you look at me with those big, sad eyes. You got nothin’ to worry about, sweetheart. That was good, ‘specially for a first try…”

He winked to you as he spoke, causing your heart to skip enough beats that you thought you might die there and then.

“… It’s just that I’m all slicked up and ready to go now… so you wanna bend over for me? Or do you wanna come sit on my lap?”

“Uh… lap, please… I was kinda bent over for the last… first time.”

“Well, you come and take a seat then, darlin’, let ol’ Coop show you something new.”

You nervously settled your entirely nude body back down onto his thighs. Cooper’s hands were gentle against your shoulders as he pulled you backwards with him, leaning at a slight angle in the chair, his cock rigid and firm as it sat against your waiting cunt, coated in your drool which almost seemed to shimmer with the dancing light of the fire.

Then, so carefully, so gently, far more than you’d ever seen him be before, Cooper took hold of his cock at the base and slid it inside of you, one hand on your stomach as he braced you, keeping your body steady as he inserted himself further and further between your clenching walls.

“Bigger than before?”

You nodded, biting your lip as you felt the distinct stretch, his rough, textured cock forcing its way inside your cunt, pressed up to the hilt, testing your limits.

“Better?”

“Mhm…”

“Speak up, darlin’.”

With your voice strained and breathy, you managed to form some words.

“Yes… it’s better.”

“That’s it, good girl. Now, I’m gonna buck my hips, ok? You just try and keep your balance.”

Below you, Cooper shifted a little, his hips rolling backwards, inches of his cock escaping your tight, aching cunt, before he rolled them forwards and upwards, back into you. A slow, steady pace that he focused on keeping until you felt warmer, more relaxed.

“You got this, it’s like riding a horse.”

“I’ve never… hm… ridden a horse…”

Cooper chuckled, a low and rasping sound that sent shivers over your skin and seemed close enough to you that it was coming from inside of your body.

“Never ridden a ghoul before either, but you’re handling it alright for a first timer.”

You were coping ok, you had to admit, but you could feel your stomach muscles tensing, the knots back in full force as they tensed and tightened, loosened and frayed with each pump of his cock within you.

“Ah… Cooper…”

“Too much, darlin’? Does it hurt?”

There was a sense of genuine care in his tone, as though he had taken it upon himself to show you that yes, things were different up there in the Wasteland, but that didn’t always mean they were worse. Some things were good, if not a little bit difficult to take at first.

“A little…”

Cooper tilted your chin up, forcing your head to lean back completely against his shoulder. In a delicate move, one far more romantic than you imagined from him, he ran his thumb over your lips, angling his neck to look at them, his own mouth open ever so slightly, a monotonous panting as he kept his hips moving, increasing the speed and the force at which he entered you.

His eyes flicked up suddenly, looking into yours, catching your gaze and holding unblinking eye contact as he spoke.

“I know… I know… Just a little longer, though…”

He closed his eyes, focusing on the feeling of his cock pushing against your body, enveloped in your hot, wet, velvety interior.

“I know it hurts… but I ain’t stopping, so don’t even ask… here…”

You watched as he brought a finger to your lips, offering it up to you.

“…you bite down on that if it gets too much, ok… but don’t hold back on those sweet sounds… I wanna hear you scream.”

With that vaguely threatening remark, he thrust up into you, banging against your body, spurring on your orgasm but unleashing a dull ache that spread through every sensitive part of you.

“Won’t… be long… keep it together… good girl… good girl…”

It felt good, the pain, the sting, the ache, the shivers. The fact that he was using you, finding pleasure in you. All of it culminating in Cooper’s nearing orgasm which you could sense was closing in on him. His movements were becoming more frantic, sloppier, and he was mouthing all manner of sweet nothings as he let his façade slip away.

And those soft mumbles opened up into a wide roar as he clung to your body, the hand on your neck cutting off the air to your lungs only briefly, one hand on your lap pressing sharp indents into your skin as he forced himself into you. The last few moments of his fevered thrusting, fucking you wildly, drool pooling in the corner of his mouth as he rutted into you in a dazed stupor before his body gave in. His cock throbbed, each pulse sending another rope of cum against your insides, filling you with his seed as he shuddered finally, slinking backwards into the chair and taking in a deep breath as you removed yourself from him.

You’d only managed to take a few steps forward before Cooper addressed you, opening his eyes to watch you standing there awkwardly, his cum dripping down your thighs, a warmth that quickly turned cool in the air of the room.

“Did I say you could get up?”

Panic settled in your chest, aware that you had waited until you felt his muscles relax, his body retreating from you, before you slid off his cock, expecting him to push you away anyway, like your first time. You assumed he was finished, and you weren’t sure you were ready for the idea that he might not be done with you.

“Are we… oh, Cooper, I really can’t take anymore.”

Even as you stood, you could feel your legs shaking, weakened by the intense orgasms, the way they tightened against his every movement.

“That’s different up here too then, I suppose.”

Cooper stood up from the chair, pacing towards you with a purposeful stride as he pushed his cock back into his pants, zipping them up as he reached you. You inhaled sharply as he placed his hand at the back of your head, those knots in your stomach beginning to form again, worried that a further, albeit pleasurable punishment was on the cards. But you were surprised as he slid his free hand around your back, tugging at your waist as he pulled you in close to him. A quick smile before his lips were on yours, the brim of his hat pushed upwards as he leaned into the kiss. Warm, gentle, the kind of kiss you’d seen in movies. Practised and confident, meaningful, sincere.

When he pulled back, your body following him a little before you settled back onto your feet, he smiled warmly.

“Sweet with the sour, darlin’. You gotta keep ‘em wanting more.”

“M-more?”

More as in now? Or more as in the idea that Cooper had enjoyed himself and would be willing to offer that kind of pleasure to you again. And he answered with a wink.

“Definitely. There’s a still a lot you’ve got to learn.”

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