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spanktony · 3 days ago

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“I’LL DO ANYTHING.” - anora.

summary: when you snap at anora, she leaves your place pissed, and you come back begging to make things right.

words: 2.3k +

warnings: 18+, fem!reader, oral (a receiving), fingering (a receiving), begging, ani calls u a good girl, reader is a meanie for a bit then turns to a lil bitch, this is bad, and yeah let me know if there’s more.

navigation. request.

tired would be an understatement of how you felt right now. your head pounded, each beat following up with a sigh from your boss's mouth, reminding you of the looming deadline for the project that still needed to be completed.

so, here you were on a call at 9:48 in the morning, on a day you were supposed to be off, with three other colleagues discussing the next steps for the project.

you rubbed your eyes, trying to shake off the heaviness that had settled deep in your bones. you sat at your desk, a few feet away from anora's side of the bed, which made it harder to resist the temptation to crawl back under the covers and ignore the world for a little while longer. but you knew better. you couldn't afford to.

literally.

your phone buzzed on the desk, shifting your attention from one screen to the other. oh shit. the driver. you had planned a low-key day with anora—just the two of you—but now it seemed like that might have to wait.

your stomach sank as you glanced at the message: i'm here. do you want me to grab anything for you two?

you quickly typed back: no, that's fine. you can come inside and wait. i'm in a meeting; it shouldn't take too long.

hopefully…

you hoped anora wouldn't be too disappointed with the change of plans. the message sent, and you set your phone down again, the screen lighting up, showing the call you've been on for... three ongoing hours?!

behind you, anora stirred, waking up from her deep sleep. "good morning," she murmured, her voice thick with sleep.

you turned slightly, offering a tired smile as you double-checked to make sure you were still muted on your work call. "good morning, babe. sleep well?"

"mmm-hmm," she hummed, stretching. you heard the soft crack of her spine as she reached her arms over her head, a sound that made your heart swell a little. she padded across the hardwood floor with that familiar grace, her feet quiet but sure.

you could feel her before you saw her, like a magnet drawing you in. then she was there, leaning down to plant a lingering kiss on your neck. it made your skin tingle, sending a shiver down your spine. "you've been up for hours, haven't you?" she whispered, a teasing smile playing on her lips.

"i have to finish this report," you murmured, half-distracted.

but anora wasn't deterred. her lips trailed to your jawline and then to your cheek, playful and persistent.

"ani," you said softly, trying to keep your voice steady. "i'm on a call."

she ignored your plea, her hands sliding over your shoulders as she planted another kiss on your temple.

"ani, seriously," you hissed, though a hint of laughter betrayed you.

"what? i'm just showing my hardworking girlfriend some love," she teased, grinning against your skin. it was sweet; it really was. but your boss's voice in your ear reminded you of the pressing deadline, and her teasing felt like too much in the moment.

"anora, stop!" you snapped, louder than intended.

her hands froze, and the warmth that had been cocooning you suddenly vanished. you heard her inhale sharply, and when she stepped back, it was like a cold breeze had replaced her presence.

"what the hell?" she asked with wide eyes and furrowed eyebrows, still in the same position, looking hurt and confused. you felt your stomach twist. "i—" you started, but the words got tangled.

"i'm sorry for trying to spend time with you," she said, her voice raising in pitch before she swallowed hard. "god forbid i... i don't know, make you feel appreciated or something."

"i'm just trying to work, anora! i have deadlines, responsibilities—"

"and i'm a distraction, right?" she shot back, "just a little nuisance in your way?"

you opened your mouth to apologize, to explain, but she was already moving, grabbing her overnight bag from the floor and shoving her things inside haphazardly. it was like a fire was spreading through the room with how quickly she was packing up to leave.

"ani," you called out, your voice more desperate now. "please, wait. don't go."

but she ignored you, shoulders tense and eyes avoiding yours as she zipped up her bag. you heard the soft thud of her bag slung over her shoulder, and before you could say another word, she was at the door.

"y/n? are you here?" your boss's voice reminding you of the meeting you were supposed to be in right now. you looked at your phone, then the door your girlfriend had just rushed out of. sighing heavily, you unmuted your phone and replied, "yes, i'm here."

the hours that followed felt like eternity. the empty apartment was so quiet, so still, that it almost felt suffocating. by the time night fell, you couldn't bear it anymore. you gathered a few things—her favorite snacks, the earrings she had been eyeing for weeks but never bought, and a small bouquet of flowers you'd picked up on a whim.

your driver pulled up to her old place, her place that she rarely stayed at anymore because she was always at your apartment. she had even given you a spare copy of her key so you could move her things to your place when she was busy.

you opened the door and found the living room empty, thankful her roommate wasn't home. you knocked on her bedroom door, calling out her name softly.

the door creaked open, and there she was. anora's head peeked out from behind the door, her eyebrows furrowing both in anger and confusion, as she clearly wasn't expecting you. she was still in the clothes she'd left in, her hair slightly disheveled.

"what are you doing here?" she asked, opening her door slightly further to get a better look at you.

"i... i came to apologize," you said quickly, holding out the flowers like a shield. she eyed them, unimpressed.

"anora, please. i was an idiot. i shouldn't have snapped at you. you were just being sweet, and i let my stress get the better of me." she leaned against the doorframe, silent, her gaze piercing.

"i brought your favorite snacks," you added, holding up the bag. "and earrings. i even... i don't know, i just..."

you trailed off, realizing how desperate you sounded. but you didn't care. "please," you said softly. "i miss you. i miss us. i'll do anything to make it right."

anora sighed, stepping aside to let you in. you stepped inside her room, slowly closing the door behind you, watching as she stood a couple of feet in front of her bed. the tension in the air was thick as you set the flowers and bag on the nightstand beside you.

her expression softened, just a fraction. "anything?"

"anything," you promised, stepping closer, inches away from her.

"you really hurt my feelings," she said finally, a hand coming to cup your cheek, and you stumbled even closer to her, your lips ghosting hers.

you looked so fucking adorable in that moment, with that vulnerable, almost lost look on your face. like a kicked puppy—those sad, pleading eyes. you looked so damn cute, but she wasn't going to let you off the hook that easily.

her thumb brushed gently across your cheekbone. "you said anything, right?"

you nodded quickly, your hand wrapping around her forearm, and her heart skipped a beat. the way you held her arm, like you couldn't stand the distance between you two, made her lips twitch upward.

there was something in the way you looked at her now, something so earnest, so full of regret, that made her resolve waver just slightly. her eyes darted to your lips, feeling the heat between you both rise. god, you were so close, and she was fighting every instinct that told her to pull you in. to kiss you like she wanted to, to let you wrap her in your arms, to hold her.

her gaze flitted up, catching yours.

"anything," you repeated again, barely a whisper.

"get on your knees," she whispered. without hesitating, you lowered yourself in front of her, her hand running a hand through your hair. you stared up at her, waiting.

"beg."

"please," you said, the frustration clear in your voice.

"please what?"

"please forgive me, ani. i shouldn't have snapped at you."

"no, you shouldn't have. you didn't mean it, did you?"

you shook your head.

"that's right. because you wouldn't dare treat me like that. right, baby?" you nodded again, your hands finding their way to her thighs, gripping them tightly. anora's hands left your hair and cupped your face gently. "good girl," she said, a smile playing on her lips.

you licked your lips when your girlfriend began pulling her shorts down, revealing her bare skin inch by inch. she watched you the whole time, smiling, that smile that made your heart race with anticipation.

you leaned in, kissing the insides of her thighs, and she hummed. it was a gentle kiss, the kind that she needed after the day she had today, and it sent a wave of pleasure through her.

"such a good girl," she whispered, and your lips trailed higher, pressing against the clothed heat between her legs. she let out a soft moan, her hands finding your hair again to stop her legs from trembling.

you pressed a lingering kiss to the spot before pulling back, your gaze meeting hers. anora's eyes were half-lidded, her cheeks flushed, and she looked so gorgeous; what kind of an idiot would raise their voice at her? oh, that's right... you did.

"ani," you murmured, looking up at her, pleading.

"i forgive you, baby," she breathed, pulling her underwear to the side, revealing her glistening pussy. you could see the desire in her eyes as she guided you closer, silently inviting you to continue. with a soft smile, you leaned in to fulfill her unspoken request, eager to make things right between you.

you kissed her again, harder this time, your tongue slipping between her folds, tasting her sweetness as she moaned softly in response. you kept going, your tongue circling her clit slowly, teasingly. you couldn't help yourself, not when she was this wet and not when you owed it to her.

her grip tightened on your hair, and you moaned against her, sending a shockwave through her body. you looked up at her once more, taking in the sight of her, the way her lips parted slightly, the way her chest rose and fell with every breath she took.

"more," she whispered, her hips rocking forward, covering your chin with her slick wetness. you obliged, increasing the pressure and speed of your movements, your hands digging in the back of her thighs, trying to pull her even closer to you.

you continued like this, listening to her soft moans and pleas until she was close. she tugged on your hair, trying to pull you away.

"wait," she gasped, "not yet."

you pulled back, wiping your chin with the back of your hand. "did i do something wrong?" you asked, suddenly worried.

"no," she breathed, her eyes fluttering open to meet yours, her hands still tangled in your hair. "it's just been a while, and i want your fingers." you smiled like an idiot, rising off your knees to kiss her for the first time that night.

her lips were soft, pliant, and you savored the taste of her on your tongue. "fuck, i missed you," you mumbled, her lips parting to let out a soft chuckle, falling against the bed with you in a tangle of limbs.

"me too, baby. now be good and finish what you started." you nodded eagerly, sliding a hand up under her shirt, your fingers grazing her skin until you reached her chest, cupping her breast in your hand, feeling her heartbeat quicken beneath your touch.

"i'll make you feel so good," you whispered, leaning in to kiss her neck as she arched into your touch, a soft moan escaping her lips. "hurry," she urged, her voice breathless.

you slid your hand back down her body, tracing the outline of her curves before finally reaching your destination, sliding your middle finger into her pussy and feeling her wetness enveloping you. she gasped at the sensation, her hips instinctively moving against your hand as she whispered, "don't stop."

her head fell back, her fingers gripping the sheets when you added another finger, increasing the pressure and speed of your movements, your eyes locked on her flushed face, the way her eyes closed and her mouth fell open as she let out a moan, her back arching against the mattress.

you continued like this for a few minutes, watching her writhe underneath you, her hips rolling against your fingers. her moans were music to your ears, and the sight of her like this was enough to make you let out a low growl of satisfaction.

her breathing was labored, her hips bucking wildly, and you knew she was close. extremely close. her body tensed, her hands gripping the sheets so tightly that they were shaking, and her moans became louder and more desperate. you kept going, not letting up, ignoring the ache in your own hand.

"come for me, ani," you said softly, curling your fingers inside her, hitting that spot that drove her crazy. her moans grew louder, and her body stiffened, and then she finally reached her peak, letting out a loud cry of pleasure. "yes, fuck!"

you felt her walls clench around your fingers, pulsing with the force of her release. her head fell back against the pillow, and her body went limp, her chest heaving as she struggled to catch her breath.

you watched her, mesmerized, not wanting to take your eyes off her for even a second.

you finally pulled out your fingers, bringing them to your mouth and sucking on them, tasting her sweet juices. her eyes fluttered open, and she looked at you, her expression softening.

"what candy did you buy?"

#spanktony #tonyspank #anora movie #anora 2024 #anora #anora x reader #anora smut #anora x fem!reader #anora x you #anora x y/n #mikey madison #mikey madison x reader #mikey madison smut #mikey madison x you

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dumbification · 3 days ago

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PONYBOY ft. boothill

( synopsis ) it's pretty unprofessional to mess around with your work partner on the job—but a single ride, just for fun, wouldn't hurt.. ..right? (｡•̀ᴗ-)

( tags ) boothill x fem!reader, nsfw, co-workers, alcohol, oral sex ( m receiving ) cowgirl position, tit play, spanking, clothed sex, photography of said sex, under the influence

( wc ) 2.2k

( toni's note ) i literally wrote this at night on a cup of matcha and a benadryl pill to help me sleep. but anyway AAA!! sorry for being suuuper inactive, since my life is pretty much active!! i hope my friends are still here.. .·°՞(¯□¯)՞°·.

“you can’t just boss me around!” he cackles. “then can you do me one last favor, pumpkin?”

“fine.”

you step outside to leave the cockpit, in search of something boothill had assigned you to look for. it was said to be inside a red crate, so it must have been inside the storage room, right? you eventually find the said crate after about ten minutes running around looking for it. the phrase ‘special supplies’ is plastered all around it. After taking a look at what’s inside, you find nothing but a flimsy looking camera. well, you thought it was flimsy. you boot it up, introduced to a high quality opening animation on the screen. not knowing how to navigate the camera, you press and play around the countless buttons on it, and one of them initiates a flash. a small film prints out the image you just took. this must be what boothill was looking for, so you take it back to him.

“perfect, we’ll be using this for the.. documentation of our mission.” he smiles as he gently handles the camera, careful not to break it. “we’re not gonna.. fight anyone?” boothill shakes his head. “come on. I was prepared.” “better luck next time! hah!” he cackles. “well, look at that,” you look through the window. “we’re here.” brushing the dust off of your pants as the gates of the ship open, a ramp slowly settles into the ground. “alright, where to?” “nowhere but forward.”

so you may have gotten lost in the middle of nowhere. it felt like days on end, days of you and boothill searching for the town you were supposed to look after. the eternal scorching heat of the sun pricked at your skin, covered in a thin coat of sweat. you looked like you’ve seen the end of it all, while boothill barely broke a single sweat, he looked untouched–unscathed. “don’t you have some GPS device installed inside of you?” your brows furrow and eyes squint. “I’m a cyborg, not some multifunctional home device.” you groaned, but momentarily let out a small gasp. “i can see it.” your hand grasped at what seemed to be nothing as you collapsed to the ground in victory. “see what, the light?” you wheeze a simple no, he turns to see whatever your hand could possibly be pointing to. “holy shirt. we’re actually here.” a cluster of buildings could be seen in the distance. “finally!” you almost sobbed.

“that feels amazing..” your parched throat cleared up after a few desperate gulps of water. “just what i needed.” boothill heaved, placing a now empty whiskey glass back on the bar’s counter. “boothill,” he looked in your direction. “we should be settled in a hotel by now.” you yawned. “come on! let’s have a little fun. you drink, don’t you?” he said, handing over a glass of whiskey. you hesitatingly took his offer, taking the shot. you eventually loosen up and get into it,

It was hours and hours of talking, full of random conversations, and small talk. you would mention whatever crazy thing you thought of, paying no mind to what your sober self would say about these decisions. It was until you acted out one of these crazy thoughts of yours. “and then i–hey, sugar, what are you doin’?” his eyes were open wide in genuine curiosity and shock, at what you were doing right now, and what he knew you were about to do. you leaned forward to feel around his chest, one hand tugging at the zipper of his jacket, and the other leading up to take his hat. you slowly take the hat and place it on your head–all while keeping your eyes on the cowboy. “sugar, i don’t think you know what you’re doin’. you know what this means, right?” he looked eager himself to grant what you wanted–but now and here was definitely not the time and place to do it. “oh, trust me,” you bring your face closer to his. “i know. please.” boothill’s eyes soften, bringing himself to whisper in your ear. “not here. come with me.” your eyes widen as he sweeps you off of your seat with a single arm, carrying you bridal style. “here’s the money, sir. keep the change, thank you kindly.”

he grabbed your things with his free hand, and took you to a small, local inn in the town. you grew impatient at boothill, who did his best to be as quick as possible–practically throwing money at people instead of paying them properly, like the bartender or hotel concierge, without a care in the world. he had one thing in mind, and it was to get the two of you some privacy–for what was to come. the door behind boothill–who was still carrying you–had closed shut. “boothill–” you yelped as he dropped you on the bed. “eager, aren’t we?” your words slur. he turns to you with a dark look in his eyes. “you made the move, don’t you want this more than i do?” well, he was right. the two of you have been waiting for this for a while, but it was mostly you who subtly pushed the idea onto him. he always played around it, but now was truly the moment for him to take action on it.

his eyes flicker down to your lips, giving you a hint of what he’d do next. he hesitates for a moment, but soon gets into the sensation of kissing you. It was slow and sensual, tongue massaging the other as lips crash into one another. you break away to catch your breath.

despite being so eager and hungry like some dog moments ago, he surprisingly took things slowly. he kneeled down and folded his body to meet yours. feeling around your clothed body, his hands patiently explored the planes of your abdomen. little shivers would send down your spine when his fingers would brush against the more ticklish parts of you–particularly near your already wet heat. he’d bring his hand to play with one of your tits, as he kissed around where he pleased, palms kneading the flesh and fingers toying with your hardened nipples. they were sensitive, and you knew that. but you didnt know they could get this sensitive–especially when they’re not even bare. “i need more..” you bite your lip, rubbing your thighs together to compensate for the lack of friction between them.

while he mindlessly grinds the mattress beside you, he slips his hand underneath your blouse, to have his cold metal thumb to play with your stiffening bud. boothill’s eyes blow wise after a moan slips out of you. wanting to hear more, he climbs on top of you to rut into you instead.“may i?” you nod, and he slips his other hand to play with your other, neglected breast. as you pant and mewl, he nudges you to the edge, grinding his hips into yours fervently, brushing his fingers against your nipples with a steadily quick pace, and lips travelling down from your mouth to suckle at the crook of your neck.

you whine as he sucks harder and harder, leaving small, dark bruises. “h-hey.. stop. it hurts.” and he does. he pulls away and licks his lips, thumb brushing them right after. “sorry, sugarplum.” his words start to slur as well, his southern drawl thickening. “wait, did you really–”

“i did. because i care, hon.” your heart pounds and melts into mush at his small but meaningful words. but well, now you didn’t want to stop. you pull him up by the collar of his jacket to turn him around and push him back down. “may i?” he pleads a yes, and you then hurriedly unbuckle his belt to slip it out, and pull his tight leather pants down to reveal the very evident tent in his boxers. It was soaked in his arousal, which you knew was synthetic–but it still amazed you, knowing how detailed his anatomy was constructed to be. you slip his boxers away to see his erection spring up. you felt a wave of fear crash through you. how is this thing gonna fit? you shake away those useless thoughts and test the waters.

you experiment things you’ve thought about on him, starting by lightly stroking his dick. he brought his palm to cover his mouth, and squeezed his eyes shut–to prepare himself for whatever you had in store for him. “what, do you not like it?” you ask with genuineness. “n-no. i love it..” his face flares up in arousal, a deep blue appearing on his cheeks. his sensitivity settings must be high. your tongue flicks at his tip, then swirling your tongue around it. you attempt to take him in his entirety in your mouth, just to further lubricate him. but to be honest, it was pretty difficult to take more than half of his cock inside.

his dick reached the back of your throat by now. your head sloppily bobbed up and down, wrapping everything around him until you reached the base. he groaned and covered his mouth again, to suppress his whimpers and moans. “oh fork me.” you pull away with a pop, and start to unbuckle your own pants.

“whatever you say.” hearts practically carved into your eyes, your face showing a newfound kind of love for him. your trousers are pulled down, with your panties pulled to the side. you drag his cold and hard tip along your folds, teasing boothill. “do you like it like this?” you ask, continuing to rub your pussy along his tip. “as long as it’s you.” he would always sweet talk you just for the sake of sweet talk, but now it feels full of love and genuine care, it was like sugar. “stay still, sugarplum.” he fixes his hat on your head as it threatened to fall off.

“now, i think you should stay still.” you drop your hips without warning and snuggly wrap his dick with your warm walls. you groan in unison holding onto each other for dear life. his hands reach to grab your ass, smacking it firmly seconds later. you squeak. “ride like there’s no tomorrow, baby.” boothill glares with lust and love in his eyes, staring you down. you slowly move around his cock, grinding against his hips to get into motion. slowly but surely, you began to bounce on it, a wet smacking sound filling the room. with each thrust after trust of yours, he bucks up his hips to hit that spongy spot inside you. your arousal squirts everywhere as you squeal and scream his name endlessly. “that’s it, babygirl. keep going.” he spanks your ass again, having you squeak and throw your head back.

he pulls the camera from earlier out to take a shot. “smile!” the camera’s flash lights up the dimly lit room for a second, and reflects on your skin–which was coated in a thin sheen of sweat. boothill took a few more pictures, of your fucked out expressions, or crazy angles of you bouncing on his cock.

“i’m–i’m gonna come.” tears roll down your face, which are soon wiped away by boothill’s thumb. he hums lowly, telling you to go ahead. you yell out his name as you cream all over his dick, cum slowly dribbling out. his own climax follows after yours, and babbles your name drunkly. as you both come down from your highs, he comforts you as you sob and cry through it, waves and bolts of pleasure crashing and striking through you. all this tension between you two had finally been broken, and this might have been your best orgasm yet.

you languidly grind your hips against his, riding out your high. “ready for round two?” his hand rakes through your hair. your eyes light up. “hell yeah..” you were ready for another go, but your body said otherwise. you plop down on top of him in defeat. he lets out a soft laugh. “It’s alright, sugar. don’t sweat it.”

you raise your hips up for his still hard cock to pop out. boothill turns you around to pepper you–and especially your neck, in small pecks and kisses. you pull the hat on your head to cover your flushed face, but he pushes it back up to see you again. “I might just give this to you, you look good with it on.”

“you know,” he says in between kisses. “i’ve been waiting to do this with you for a while.” “really?” you coo. he hums in response, continuing to adorn your neck in loving marks. “i’ve just been.. waiting for you. I want to respect you and your decisions as much as i can.” “are you serious?” he paused to look at you, waiting for what else you had to say. “I’ve been hinting this at you for months..” nonetheless, your heart practically melted at those sweet words of his. he chuckles softly. “well, we both get want we want now.” “yeah.” you gently cup his cheeks as your forehead touches his. you both giggle.

“by the way, can i see the photos?” you’re curious about the shots he took.

#𝜗𝜚 ⋆₊ 𝓭𝓾𝓶𝓫𝓲𝓯𝓲𝓬𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷 #boothill #boothill smut #boothill x reader #boothill hsr #honkai star rail #hsr smut #hsr #honkai star rail smut #boothill honkai star rail

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sonicboomrevisited · 1 day ago

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A Sonic Boom Revisited Short Story:

"I'll Be Home for Christmas"

Written by @mama-qwerty with editing and inspiration from @multiisketch

Art by @multiisketch

NOTE: This story is NON-CANON to the SBR comic itself and is purely for holiday fun! Please Enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Twas the morning before Christmas and all through the lair, not a creature was stirring, not even–

"An eclair!" Cubot said, in an enthusiastic mood.

Orbot protested. "An elcair's not a creature, it's food!"

"Exactly!” said Cubot, hands on his hips. “That's why it ain't stirrin!"

Orbot scoffed. “Oh enough with your quips.”

The stockings were hung by the exhaust port with care, in hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be–

"Married!" Cubot shouted, sounding quite proud.

"Santa’s already married, for crying out loud.” Orbot sighed and shook his head in frustration. “Can you please be quiet and allow the narration?”

Quite. Anyway... the robots were nestled and charging in stations, while visions of sugar plums danc’d in their processing units.

"Hey," Cubot said, the word dragging out long. “Those words don’t rhyme, you’re doing it wrong!"

Rhyming is hard, and not something that’s forced. So you’ll deal with my attempts, for better or worst.

The robots went silent, exchanging a look. It always seemed easy when reading the book. They returned to the tinsel hanging duties assigned, when in walked the dastardly Robo-Sonic, his boss close behind.

"I just don't understand, truly at all, why those rodents won’t fight!" said Dr. Eggman, standing tall.

“Because they’re losers who know they won’t win,” Robo-Sonic said, his voice confident, and edged with a grin. “Seriously, Boss, it’s the smartest thing they’ve done. Why would they fight when they know that we’ve won?”

“It’s the principle!” Eggman shouted, his hands clenched in fists. “If they won’t fight, then I won’t . . . won’t . . .”

He threw his hands up. “Ya know what? I’m not doing this rhyming thing. Nope.”

But–

“NO.” Eggman crossed his arms, his lips pulled into a tight line.

How are we gonna tell a Christmas story without that well known rhyming couplet setup?

“Much better, because we won’t be locked into short little oddly worded sentences for the sake of rhyming.”

Ouch.

“Go on,” Eggman said, giving his hand a dismissive flick. “Just let it flow naturally.”

Fine.

“Oh come now, don’t pout.”

I’m not pouting.

“Then go ‘not pout’ somewhere else so we can get on with things.”

“Geez, Boss,” Cubot said, shaking his head. “That’s not very Christmas-y.”

“Quiet down, you imbecile, or I’ll remove your head.”

“That rhymed,” Orbot said with a shrug. “Although you technically rhymed ‘head’ with ‘head’.”

“Nevermind!” Eggman said, moving to his console and flicking some switches. The monitor along the back wall flared to life and scenes from the village dominated the screen. “As I was saying, if those rodents won’t fight me, I won’t get a good workout for my various inventions.”

Robo-Sonic turned to him. “So?”

“So, fighting so-called heroes is the best way for villains to work the kinks out of their dastardly plans and evil robots. It’s the first thing they teach you in villain college.” He turned suddenly, his voice edged with defensive anger. “Which I totally graduated from, thank you very much.”

Robo-Sonic flicked his ocular LEDs toward the ceiling. “Okay, so why won’t they fight? Other than the obvious reason that they’ll lose, I mean.”

Eggman tapped a few places on his control panel and twisted a dial. “I don’t know. But we’ll find out soon enough.

The screen flickered and centered on Meh Burger where Amy, Tails, Knuckles, and Sticks sat at a table.

“Are we still going to your place for Christmas Eve, Amy?” Tails asked. He poked at his burger. “It may be a good way to take our minds off . . . you know.”

“The fact that Sonic’s been turned into a glorified Eggman bot who hates us and wants to pound us into the dirt?” Knuckles asked, his voice low and frustrated. The others looked at him, their expressions a combination of annoyed and hurt. “What? I’m just summing it up in case you forgot.”

“We didn’t.” Tails’ ears flicked backward, and he looked away.

Knuckles seemed to sense he’d really stepped in it, and turned his attention back to his half-eaten burger. He let out a sigh, his shoulders dropping. “Right. Right. Sorry.”

“I don’t know if I should bother this year. It won’t be the same without Sonic,” Amy said, pushing her burger away and resting her crossed arms on the table. “We always baked cookies together.” A little smile curled her lips. “When he wasn’t trying to eat the batter, that is.”

“We’d always make popcorn strands,” Knuckles said, shaking his head with a smile. “That was a lot of fun.”

“Yeah.” Tails pushed his burger away, fiddling with his gloves. “We would trim the tree together. The lights were always my favorite part, and every year we’d fight over who put the star on top.” His ears flicked back. “This year was his turn.”

Silence fell over the group. Sticks looked between the others.

“Well I say we don’t let this get us down!” she said, pounding her fists on the table. “I say we get together and have the best Christmas Eve ever! We’ll show that Eggman and his new little robot henchman that they can’t stifle our spirits!”

She turned directly toward the camera filming them and shook her fist.

“YA HEAR THAT, YOU BIG CLOD! WE AIN’T BENDING!”

In the lair, Eggman let out a little yelp before cutting the feed, the screen going black. “That badger’s pretty astute for someone who thinks her doorknobs are alien spies.”

“Who’s she calling a henchman?” Robo-Sonic said, hands clenching into fists.

Eggman absently rubbed his chin with a hand. “Quiet, you.”

“Yes, Boss.”

Eggman’s brow furrowed slightly as he paced back and forth before the console. “Hmm . . . so the rodents are feeling all sad because their little blue rat is now my number two. That sadness is preventing them from really bringing their A-game during battles with me.”

“Perhaps you could offer to return Robo-Sonic to them for Christmas Eve,” Orbot suggested, hovering closer. “That way they can feel more motivated to fight when next you appear.”

Eggman whirled on him. “Are you insane? You’re suggesting I simply give Robo-Sonic over to those insipid rodents? All because they miss him so much?”

Orbot flinched back, as Robo-Sonic looked on, shaking his head.

“Oh, I know!” Eggman said, holding a finger up. “Maybe I’ll be a gracious arch-nemesis and offer to let Robo-Sonic fraternise with them for Christmas Eve, just to refuel the hope of getting their friend back and reignite that fighting spirit, before dashing their misplaced hopes to bits during my next attack! Ho ho, that is brilliant!”

“Yes, sir, very clever,” Orbot said with a sigh.

“Hey now,” Robo-Sonic said, hands on hips. “Who says I want to go back and ‘fraternise’ with those losers?”

Eggman turned to him, brows furrowed. “You’ll go and you’ll play nice. Because while you’re there you’re going to collect any information you can on weaknesses–other than you, of course–or soft spots I can use to my advantage in future battles.”

Robo-Sonic threw his hands up in exasperation. “But I already know their weaknesses and soft spots! I can tell you that right now!”

Eggman held up a hand. “Upp upp upp! Everyone knows that Christmas is when people show their softer sides and reveal hidden thoughts and desires no one knows the rest of the year. It goes hand in hand with Christmas miracles, holiday spirit and putting differences aside to show that not everyone’s all bad and all that touchy feely stuff.”

The doctor went to his desk, yanked open a drawer, and fished around for a moment before pulling out a crumpled card. He scribbled something inside, stuffed it into an envelope, and stepped over to slap it onto Robo-Sonic’s hands.

“There you are,” he said, patting the robot on the top of his rocket booster. “Off you go. Spread holiday cheer with your ex-friends, and then come back here and dish on the gossip you learn.”

Robo-Sonic heaved the robot equivalent of a sigh, before turning and heading toward the door.

“OH WAIT!”

He turned back to see Eggman digging through another drawer, before pulling something out and rushing over to him. The doctor slapped a gift sticker right above Robo-Sonic’s visor and adjusted a Santa hat on top of his head.

“There!” Eggman said, stepping back and perching his hands on his hips. “Ooh, you look so festive!” He waved in a dismissive manner. “Okay, get outta here. Go be merry and trim the tinsel and ginger the bread or whatever it is you people do during the holidays. Shoo!”

With an electronic groan, Robo-Sonic turned and drudged away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Screams drew Amy from her book, and she hurried out of her house, hammer in hand. The chatter from her communicator indicated the others were on their way to investigate the trouble, too.

She hoped it wasn’t Eggman. While she never liked fighting Eggman in the past, at least it had been a little fun. Now it was painful. Seeing what the man had done to Sonic hurt her heart. And she couldn’t bring herself to hurt him, even if he was a robot now, and had no qualms on hurting them.

And, based on how lackluster the fights were when Eggman did attack, the others felt the same way.

As she neared the center of the village–seriously, everything always seemed to happen right in the middle of town–she found the chaos somewhat comforting. It was familiar and a good fight with the Lightning Bolt Society, or Barker, or even Shadow may help dissipate some of the anxiety that had twisted her stomach since Sonic changed.

When the fleeing villagers scattered, she skidded to a halt.

Sonic was standing in the middle of the town, arms crossed, and wearing a . . . Santa hat?

A quick flick of her eyes caught no sign of Eggman himself or any other attacking robots. Sonic–Robo-Sonic, she reminded herself–stood with his back to her, tapping his foot in that familiar impatient way that always made him look like he was waiting for a bus that was fifteen minutes late.

“Amy!”

Knuckles’ voice called out. Both she and Robo-Sonic turned to see him rushing over to her. He stopped a step in front of her, taking up a defensive stance, fists at the ready.

“Where’s Eggman?” the echidna asked, his brow furrowed and voice uncharacteristically serious. He didn’t like fighting Son–ROBO-Sonic any more than Amy did, and preferred to head straight for the doctor when attacks happened.

The quicker they took out the doc, the quicker he retreated and took the robot version of their friend with him.

“I don’t know,” she said, gripping her hammer tightly. “All I see is him.”

Tails and Sticks arrived soon after, each wearing similar expressions of confusion.

“This isn’t like Eggman,” Tails said, holding his wrench before him like a staff. “He doesn’t usually send robots without being there himself to gloat and claim early victories.”

“Finally,” Robo-Sonic said, rolling his head back in a familiar expression of exasperation. “You’re all here. Cripes, take a little longer, why don’tcha. It’s not like I can die of old age or anything.”

“What do you want?” Knuckles all but growled, baring his fangs. “It’s Christmas Eve. Can’t you take the holidays off from being a jerk?”

Robo-Sonic mostly ignored him and stalked forward. Knuckles threw an arm out, keeping Amy back. When the robot hedgehog stopped before them, he reached into his metal quills and pulled out an envelope. He thrust it forward, toward Amy, and Knuckles tensed.

Everything seemed to stop in that moment. Amy flicked her eyes from Robo-Sonic’s ocular visor, to the little gift sticker attached to his forehead, right below the brim of the Santa hat. Instead of a “To” and “From” note, it bore Eggman’s logo, as if he’d branded the robot before sending him to the village.

Her eyes then dropped to the envelope in his hand. When she made no move to reach for it, Robo-Sonic uttered what sounded like a sigh.

“Just take it, Ames.”

She flinched at the familiar nickname coming from a digital voice box. After a moment, she gently pushed Knuckles’ arm to the side, and plucked the envelope from Robo-Sonic’s hand. Keeping her eyes on the robotic hedgehog, she tore it open, before looking down as she pulled a battered card from the paper.

The front showed an image of Eggman dressed in a Santa suit, Cubot and Orbot beside him with little antlers on their heads. He had a large sack thrown over his shoulder. Above him read “Evil Season’s Greetings!”

She rolled her eyes.

Inside, she found a handwritten note, undoubtedly from Eggman himself.

"Dear Rodents,

Since you insist on being frustratingly avoidant when fighting my newest bestie Robo-Sonic, I have deemed it acceptable to allow him to be returned to you for 24 hours. Make it count and bring your A-Game to the next fight! Happy Holidays!

Love, Dr. Eggman."

Amy reread the note three times, before flicking her eyes back up to Robo-Sonic. He stood with his arms crossed and he, and Knuckles who also stood with his arms crossed, seemed to be having a glaring contest.

“So, wait,” she said, drawing their attention. “You’re here to spend Christmas Eve with us?”

Robo-Sonic heaved an electronic sigh. “Apparently.”

Amy exchanged a look with Tails.

“You don’t actually expect us to believe this, do you?” the fox said, hands on hips. “Like we’re supposed to just throw our arms open and pretend like everything’s normal?”

“I think he’s here to spy on us,” Sticks said, eyes narrowed and flicking back and forth. “He’s here to discover our deepest secrets, our hidden hopes and dreams!”

“Not my eggnog recipe!” Knuckles cried, hands to the side of his head.

“Knuckles, that’s just milk and eggs, mostly,” Amy said with a sigh.

He cast her a raised eyebrow. “Eggs?”

“Nevermind.”

“Look,” Robo-Sonic said, holding his hands up. “As stimulating as this conversation is, I don’t wanna be here any more than you want me here. But the boss said you get me for 24 hours and the clock’s ticking, so, whatever you wanna do with that time is on your head. If you want to just stand here and argue about it, be my guest.”

The group exchanged looks again. Amy gave him a tight little smile.

“‘Scuse us for a minute.”

She motioned for the others to follow her a few feet away, and lowered into a huddle.

“This is a trick,” Knuckles said, looking over his shoulder toward Robo-Sonic. “No way he’s not here for evil reasons.”

“I hate to admit it, but I agree,” Tails said, shaking his head. “Sonic’s not our friend anymore. As much as I want to believe he’s here because he wants to be, I think this is some kind of trap.”

“Of course it’s a trap!” Sticks said, gripping her boomerang tightly. “It’s obvious he’s here to steal our Christmas spirit, and maybe even all our decorations and presents and even our last can of Who Hash!”

Tails gave her a raised eyebrow. “Our what?”

“Nothin’.” Sticks narrowed her eyes, looking around suspiciously. “I’ve said too much.”

“Okay, look,” Amy said, drawing their attention. “I don’t think he’s here of his own free will either. But maybe we can use this to our advantage. If we do things we used to do with Sonic on past Christmases, maybe he’ll remember who he really is and come back to us!”

Tails shot a look over at Robo-Sonic, who was giving the evil eye . . . well, evil LED to any villagers who came too near. “I dunno, Amy . . .”

“C’mon Tails, we have to try.”

The others looked at her before exchanging a glance between themselves. Finally, they turned back and nodded. Although, they didn’t look very happy or sure about it.

She didn’t care. If there was a chance to get her . . . their Sonic back, she’d take it. As slim as it was.

She nodded back, before standing upright and moving toward the robot hedgehog once again. Knuckles was right next to her. She could feel how tense he was.

“Okay, Son–I mean, Robo-Sonic,” she said, stopping with her hands on her hips. “If you’re gonna be here, there are going to be a few rules.” She counted off on her fingers. “Rule number one, no fighting. Rule number two, no insulting us. Rule number three, you have to actually participate and not simply sit and sulk the whole time.”

His ocular LEDs narrowed for a moment. “And if I refuse these stupid rules?”

Amy shrugged. “Then we’ll just send you back to Eggman’s. You’ll have failed your mission and ruined Christmas for your new ‘boss’.”

He stood and glared at her for a long moment, before rolling his head to the side. “Fine.”

A smile curled her lips. “Good.” She clapped her hands together, giving a little squeal of excitement. “Oh, this will be fun!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was not, in fact, ‘fun’.

It had been hours. Hours of trying to have a normal Christmas Eve.

They’d all gathered at Amy’s house, as they did every year. She hadn’t been in a very festive mood after everything that had happened with Sonic, so the house wasn’t as decorated as she normally did. Knuckles and Sticks had helped pull her decorations out of storage, working to create a more appropriate holiday atmosphere, as Tails set about trimming the tree.

Supper was awkward. She’d made everyone’s favorite. Even the sweet potato chili dogs Sonic liked. But, being a robot now, he couldn’t eat them.

Okay, no problem, she could work around that.

But he spent the entire time glaring at Knuckles, who glared right back. Amy had shot the echidna a warning glance, and he’d sheepishly turned his eyes away, but the mood had been set.

After supper, she cleaned up the dishes as Tails helped Knuckles make popcorn for this year’s garlands. With a little coaxing, Amy had encouraged Knuckles to try and follow his tradition with Robo-Sonic.

It didn’t go well.

Robo-Sonic couldn’t string the popcorn before his metal fingers crushed the kernels. After five minutes, the floor around him was littered with broken bits of popcorn. Knuckles, for his part, tried to extend a hand of friendship, so to speak, citing that he knew what it was like to deal with more strength than you need most of the time. He tried to help Robo-Sonic pull it back so he could work with the popcorn without crushing it.

Things only went further south when Robo-Sonic revealed, in a fit of frustration stemming from the continued crunching of the kernels, that he never liked making the garlands–a waste of perfectly good popcorn, he claimed–and only did it so Knuckles wouldn’t look like an idiot doing it by himself.

The echidna gasped, eyes wide, before running from the room in tears. “Not cool, Robo-Sonic!”

Sticks fared a little better. She was always suspicious of wrapped presents–”You don’t know what’s inside! It’s not safe!”--so Robo-Sonic used his scanners to examine every one. He announced, loudly, what each box contained. This soothed the badger’s suspicions, until he announced what the gifts she’d brought held.

“Those boxes were supposed to be lead lined! X-ray proof! So’s the aliens couldn’t see what I got and report my preferences and kindness to their leaders, taking me hostage when they come to rule!”

And off she went, presumably to find whomever had sold her the supposedly impervious boxes, and deal some angry feral badger damage to them.

Tails was hit worst. He had brought the tree decorations, and hoped to have his and Sonic’s tradition at least somewhat salvaged. It started okay, but when it was time to put the lights up, Robo-Sonic took them from the fox and wrapped them around the tree in three seconds flat.

“Oh,” Tails said, ears flicking back. “We usually do that together.”

Robo-Sonic shrugged. “It’s not exactly a two-man job, kid. It’s done, now.”

“Right.” Tails reached across himself to tightly grip his arm. “G-good job.”

The fox quietly left soon after.

That left Amy.

She tried. She really did.

She pulled out the ingredients for the cookies she and Sonic baked every year. But there was no laughter as they mixed the ingredients together. No trying to keep him from dipping his fingers into the batter. No slapping his hands away as she tried to roll out the dough.

Robo-Sonic was focused and efficient. The cookies went in without issue.

“You’re really not him anymore, are you?” she asked, her voice soft.

He turned to her, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m better.”

She sighed, her shoulders slumping. “No. No you’re not.”

Amy turned, hoping to be out of the house before the first tears fell.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Robo-Sonic watched her leave, just like all the others had left.

He didn’t care. The less he had to deal with these losers, the better. He was only here because Eggman practically ordered him to be. He wasn’t enjoying this. He didn’t care about these stupid traditions and little holiday scenes the others insisted on.

He should leave. They all left, so apparently they didn’t care if he was here or not. He should just go back to Eggman’s lair, tell him the mission was a failure because these rodents couldn’t accept that he wasn’t the weak loser they remembered. They’d have a good laugh at the overly sentimental nature of these fools and that would be that.

He took a few steps toward the door, intending to do just that.

Then he stopped.

Turned and watched the oven timer tick down.

Less than ten minutes before the cookies were done. There was no one else in the house. He had no idea when they’d be back.

If he left and they didn’t return for a long time after, the cookies would burn.

The house might burn.

If these losers wouldn’t give him a decent fight because they were ‘sad’ about his change (his improvement), then they certainly wouldn’t be up for any challenging battles should Amy’s house burn down on Christmas Eve.

He could wait ten minutes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“This is worse than when we thought he was gone,” Tails said, curling his namesakes around himself. He let out a long sigh. “This feels like a cruel joke.”

The group had met up near Sonic’s old shack. Knuckles stood with his back to the porch post, arms crossed. Tails sat on the front steps, staring out into the ocean as the waves licked the beach below. Sticks sat on the ground nearby, legs crossed beneath her, an angry pout on her face.

And Amy stood a little apart from them, staring into Sonic’s shack. The moon was full tonight, and lit the area enough to see.

The shack stood dark and empty, like it had since Sonic was changed.

“I’m sorry guys,” she said, her voice soft. “I thought . . . I thought if he was in a familiar place, if he was surrounded by his friends, doing things he loved, then he’d remember.”

“It was a nice try, Ames,” Knuckles said, rubbing a hand over his face. “But he’s not him anymore.”

She pulled her lips tight. “No. I guess he’s not.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Popcorn was strewn all over the floor. Some were crunched from being stepped on, but most broken because of his metal fingers.

He looked down at his fingers now.

Sharp and cold. He couldn’t really feel anything now. Oh sure, there were pressure points on the outside plating, giving him the approximate sensation of ‘touch’. But he couldn’t feel.

The fingers curled into a fist.

Nevermind.

That wasn’t important. He was better. Stronger.

His LEDs flicked back down to the floor.

It wouldn’t be fair to leave Amy to clean up this mess, and he knew Knuckles likely wouldn’t help. Seemed a waste to throw out all that popcorn, though.

He checked his internal clock. Seven more minutes until the cookies were done.

He had time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“He didn’t even try,” Amy said, moving to sit next to Tails. She pulled her legs up and hugged her knees. “He said he would try and he didn’t.”

“Actually,” Tails said, rubbing the back of his neck with a hand. “He said he wouldn’t fight, insult us, or sulk. That’s not really the same thing as trying.”

“But he promised he’d participate!” she said, and even to her own ears it sounded ridiculous. “He . . . he promised.”

“I guess he technically did participate,” Knuckles said with a shrug. “He was just being an irritable and impatient jerk about it.”

“On the bright side,” Sticks said, tilting her head to the side. “He did reveal a horrible injustice done to me by those shysters who sold me those boxes. I made sure they wouldn’t cheat anyone else like that!”

The others sighed, the mood not exactly feeling any lighter.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Robo-Sonic stood before the tree. The popcorn was all cleaned up, and now he stood with his arms crossed, staring at the wrapped presents strewn about, where Sticks had let them drop as he’d examined each one.

With a soft electronic sigh, he bent to gather them, stacking them neatly.

He picked up the final two, which were identically shaped, only with different wrapping. One was addressed to Tails, the other to him.

Well, to the weaker version of him, anyway.

He’d scanned them before, when Sticks had requested, and discovered they held matching scarves. Yellow for him, blue for Tails.

Probably hand crocheted by Amy herself. She liked to do that kind of thing.

He didn’t know why she bothered. That took a lot of time; it was easier to simply buy a scarf. They weren’t that expensive, really.

He stared at the boxes for a long moment, before placing them on the stack.

Glancing up, he flicked his LEDs over the tree at the lights he’d strung earlier.

They bothered him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I just . . .” Amy said, burying her face in her hands. “I hoped there was something left of him. Something that showed our Sonic was still in there.”

Silence answered her. It hung heavy before Tails gave a little sigh, reaching over to lay a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“I did too, Amy. I really did. He’s . . . he was my best friend. The idea that he’s gone is . . . well, it’s hard to accept.”

She nodded. “It’s so strange. He seems so much like the Sonic we remember, but . . . not.” She sighed, a harsh, frustrated sound. “I wish Eggman hadn’t sent him here. It’s making everything worse.”

Tails’ hand gripped her a little tighter. Knuckles moved to sit on her other side, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

“We could pay Eggman a visit and deck his halls, if that would make you feel better,” he said, a little smile curling one side of his mouth. “Want me to leave a knuckle sandwich in his stocking?”

Amy gave a soft giggle, shaking her head. “As tempting as that is, I don’t want to ruin anything any more than it already is. It’s bad enough that–” She gasped, her eyes going wide. “THE COOKIES! I completely forgot about them!”

She shot to her feet and ran toward her house with the others close behind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Oh no oh no oh no!” Amy nearly whined as she burst into her kitchen. She expected a house full of black smoke, possibly even flames shooting from her oven, but she stopped dead when there was no oppressive heat of an uncontrolled fire, no choking smoke threatening to smother her. “What?”

The others screeched to a halt behind her, piling up and nearly knocking her over.

The scene that met them was one she would not have believed just fifteen minutes ago.

Robo-Sonic was pulling the cookie sheets from the oven. He turned and placed them on towels he’d set out to protect her counters, before looking up and finding himself with company.

“Well look who decided to finally show back up,” he said, flicking the oven off and turning to plant his hands on his hips. “Figures you guys would all take off and leave me to do all the clean up.”

Silence answered him as the others stared. Amy’s gaze fell to the cookies currently cooling on her counter. “You . . . you stayed to take them out?”

He shrugged. “Boss said I had to stay, so I stayed. I’m used to picking up the slack for you los–” He caught himself. He’d promised not to insult them. “You left. The cookies were done. I pulled ‘em out. The end.”

Amy stared. This . . . this wasn’t what she expected.

“Hey,” Knuckles said, pointing to the other counter. “What are those?”

All eyes turned to a plate stacked with popcorn balls. Robo-Sonic shrugged as he pulled them over to place on the center island counter behind the cooling cookies.

“Ames would have had a fit if I threw away perfectly good popcorn,” he said, stepping back to lean against the counter. “So I made those.”

“Huh, that’s weird.” Knuckles stepped forward to pick up one of the popcorn balls. “How did you get the string to do that?” He took a bite, his eyes lighting up. “Hey! That’s really good! And no string to get stuck in my teeth!”

Robo-Sonic shrugged again. “Amy always has a bag of marshmallows hidden away. Thinks I don’t know about it. She uses them to sweeten her coffee. Which I always thought was gross, but whatever. Figured I’d use ‘em to make something better than those stupid garlands.”

Amy blinked. Sonic would regularly raid her cabinets, so it wasn’t a surprise he knew about her secret mallow stash, but the way he was talking . . . the things he did while they were gone . . .

This was absolutely not what she expected.

“Hey, what happened to the tree?” Tails’ voice cut through her musings. They looked into the living room where the tree stood dark. “Where are the lights?”

“Took ‘em off.” Robo-Sonic’s voice sounded almost bored, like there was an implied shrug even if his shoulders didn’t move. “They were bugging me. Not strung right. Some spots had the same colored lights all bunched up. I’m not good with that kinda detail stuff.”

More silence, and Amy dared to hope. Dared to think that her Sonic, their Sonic, really was still in there.

“Do you . . .” Tails started, his voice small and shaky. “Do you want to try again? I can make sure the colors are adequately distributed this time.”

Robo-Sonic stood still for a moment, as though contemplating. Amy expected a sharp retort. An annoyed “Fine” or “Whatever”.

But instead, the robot offered a simple, “Sure.”

A little smile curled her lips.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Just before midnight.

Wrapping paper was strewn about, tossed carelessly as the annual gift exchange had taken place. The gang sat on the floor before the tree–now properly trimmed and lit, thanks to Tails’ careful calculations of the optimal placement of the various colored lights–with the star perched atop. Robo-Sonic had placed it there, in keeping with his and Tails’ tradition.

Now soft snores floated over the living room. Sticks, Knuckles, and Tails were fast asleep, their gifts piled nearby, while Amy and Robo-Sonic sat a little further away, their backs against the couch.

Amy wanted to break the silence. Needed to break it. The longer they sat like that, the longer it went without at least trying to get through to him, the more she’d beat herself up over it later.

This was the perfect chance to try and bring him around. To try and reach the Sonic she knew was still in there.

After another moment of hesitation, she cleared her throat.

“I suppose I need to send a thank you note to Eggman,” she said, her voice soft. “For letting you come tonight.”

He didn’t respond for a moment. “You always were a stickler for manners.”

She swallowed, turning her head away slightly. The familiarity he spoke with. He knew her. As much as she tried to convince herself that he wasn’t any different from Metal Sonic, that he was just some robot who’d copied Sonic’s personality . . . she couldn’t fully believe that.

She spared another glance in his direction. The yellow scarf she’d crocheted him was fastened around his neck. When he and Tails had opened those gifts he’d hesitated before putting it on, but finally tied it in place, much to Tails’ delight. Sonic never looked right without that trademark scarf around his neck.

The color contrasted with the red Santa hat still perched on his head. Her eyes flicked back to that gift label above his visor. Eggman’s logo seemed to glare at her, a stark reminder that he was here on borrowed time.

Another silent moment passed, and she turned away again. When she spoke, her voice was quieter. Hardly above a whisper.

“Stay.”

“No.”

The response was immediate. He didn’t even consider it.

“Why?” She turned back to him sharply, her tone pleading. “Why do you hate us so much?”

He turned his head away from her for a moment, before turning back. “Because you’re weak.”

“We’re stronger together.” She turned to him more fully and tried to pull back the pleading tone. “We were always stronger with you.”

“I can’t carry the whole team, Ames,” he said, his tone hard. “I can’t do what needs done if I’m worrying about the rest of you.”

“What are you talking about?” Amy said, and hated how pathetic her voice sounded even to her own ears. “Doing what needs done? What needs done is keeping Eggman from ruining everything, from destroying everything we love. We did that! And now you’re helping him. I just . . . I don’t understand.”

He didn’t respond right away, instead looking over where the others slept. Amy watched him for a few moments, before turning away when she decided he likely wasn’t going to answer.

“Sometimes protection isn’t just about bashing some bots and calling it a day,” he said, his voice softer. “Sometimes you have to make sacrifices to focus on the bigger picture.”

She stared at him, her brows furrowed. “What’s the bigger picture?”

He went quiet again, and this time it felt more final. Like whatever information she was going to get out of him had been said.

The two sat there in silence for a long time. Finally, Amy spoke, her voice a whisper.

“Merry Christmas, Sonic.”

He didn’t respond.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Time ticked on. Robo-Sonic watched the others sleep. He didn’t need to sleep anymore, although he sometimes went into standby mode. Not a ‘sleep’ in the traditional sense, but something that let him kind of ‘drift’.

Beside him, Amy’s breathing evened out, changing to a deeper, slower rhythm. He turned and found her head tilted against the couch, eyes closed, and mouth slightly open.

He watched her for a long moment.

Moving before he even knew he was, Robo-Sonic stood and gently lifted her, placing her on the couch and positioning a pillow beneath her head. She stirred slightly, and he froze, before she settled back into a comfortable position, her breathing deepening.

Pulling the afghan from the back of the couch, he draped it over her, tucking her in.

“Merry Christmas, Ames.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Morning.

The sun filtered in through the windows, pulling Amy from her sleep. She sat up and stretched, rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she got her bearings. It took a moment before the events of last night caught up with her, and she looked around, catching no sign of Robo-Sonic.

He must have gone back to Eggman’s.

With a sigh, she flipped the afghan back, preparing to head to the kitchen to start breakfast before the others woke. That’s when her eyes landed on a small stack of gifts on the coffee table, still unopened.

Her brow furrowed. That was odd. She could have sworn they’d opened all the presents last night.

Moving closer, she immediately recognized the sloppy, somewhat hurried wrapping style of one Sonic the Hedgehog.

She distinctly remembered helping Sonic pick out gifts months ago, in an attempt to keep him from being caught empty-handed come Christmas Eve. (Something that had happened on more than one occasion.) He must have wrapped them to have them done and ready back then.

But how . . .

Her eyes went wide.

Robo-Sonic must have gone back to Sonic’s shack and brought them here after she’d fallen asleep.

A little smile curled her lips. Her heart felt warmer than it had in months.

She had hope again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Ah, the blue rat bot returns!” Eggman said. He turned from the breakfast table, still dressed in his long underwear. “How went the whole ‘give your ex-friends false hope so they’ll fight me with more gusto’ plan?”

Robo-Sonic shrugged. “Fine.”

Eggman frowned. “Fine? That’s it? Just ‘fine’?”

Another shrug from the bot. “Yeah? Not sure what you want me to say.”

“Well, you could say that they spent the night bemoaning my successful plan to turn you into a robot; or that they tried to convince you to be some kind of double agent to get the goods on me in secret; or that they tried to appeal to your non-existent sense of loyalty to them in combination with the ‘spirit of Christmas’ to cast off your allegiance to me and rejoin them in their constant, infuriating destruction of every bot I painstakingly create!”

Robo-Sonic waved a hand. “Yeah, sure, okay.”

Eggman slammed his fists on the table, sending the silverware clattering. “Oh, you are just as infuriating now as you were when you were flesh and fur! I thought you were going to bring back some gossip or embarrassing tales of what happened!”

“What can I tell ya, Boss,” the robot said as he began to wander off. “Just a boring Christmas Eve. Same old, same old. Just like all the others.”

Eggman scowled. “Then what’s with the scarf?”

Robo-Sonic froze. The scarf. He’d forgotten he had it on. “What about it?”

The doctor smirked. “Seems a little sentimental, don’t you think? A lovingly hand knitted scarf from your little girlfriend.”

Robo-Sonic turned sharply, red LEDs narrowed. “She’s not my girlfriend, and it’s crocheted.”

Eggman scoffed. “My, my. Aren’t we touchy?”

The robot hedgehog uttered a little growl, before stalking toward the doctor. He yanked the scarf off his neck and slapped it on the table. “Whatever. I don’t need it.”

Eggman furrowed his brow. “Are you sure nothing happened back there?”

Robo-Sonic let out a soft scoff as he turned and walked away. “Nothing worth reporting.”

Eggman watched him go with a frown.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Robo-Sonic walked down a long hallway, the walls a polished steel here. He pushed the thoughts of last night away.

It was just a mission. He was sent there to spy. To gather intel. To give false hope so those losers would fight harder when he and Eggman attacked next.

Because if they fought harder, they got stronger. They needed to be stronger.

He only acted the way he did last night to foster that sense of hope. That he was still the Sonic they remembered.

That was the only reason.

His hand curled into a fist.

The only reason.

But that scarf . . .

A voice in the back of his mind whispered. Said things he knew weren’t true. Tried to make him soft. Make him weak.

He stopped and turned to face one of the walls. They were polished to a near mirror finish. He stared at his reflection. The gift label was still stuck to his forehead and that stupid Santa hat still perched on his metal quills.

But that wasn’t the worst part.

He almost saw the hedgehog he once was.

With a growl, he yanked the hat off and tossed it to the ground, before tearing the sticker from above his visor. It shredded, leaving behind sticky paper strips. Figures Eggman would have the cheapest, most residue-y stickers on hand.

Last night had been a mistake. He shouldn’t have gone.

Uttering a growl that bordered on a yell, Robo-Sonic drew his fist back and punched the wall, leaving a deep dent in the metal at the impact.

“No more weakness. You had your chance. You failed. Now it’s my turn.”

Robo-Sonic withdrew his hand from the crumpled metal, and continued along his way.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Well, that was anticlimactic,” Eggman said after Robo-Sonic had walked away. He slumped against the table with his chin in his hand.

Don’t pout.

“I’m not pouting!”

Seems a good place to end things, doncha think?

Eggman let out a frustrated grunt. “You wanna do the thing, don’t you?”

Wouldn’t be a Christmas story without it.

A long sigh. “Fine.”

And with Eggman pouting from not getting his way, Happy Christmas to all and to all a good day.

“I’m not pouting!”

Hush.

Merry Christmas, Season’s Greetings, and Happy Holidays to all!

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makethemhoesmad · 12 hours ago

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merry christmas, please don’t call

merry christmas!!!!

azzi x paige

1.14k words

please live react

if you’re sad about the angst blame @lupinqs and @imaginespazzi

—

“fuck this,” paige groans, flinging herself down onto the couch and bringing her hands to her face. she’d been sitting, rigid, staring at the gifts with her name under the tree, wondering if she should return them or save them. some of them, she’d bought three months ago, so soon she could probably still bring them back and get a refund. she flips her phone over, checking to see if one of the girls had messaged her, inviting her over to do something. it was christmas eve, after all. no messages, not even one that she definitely wasn’t looking for.

…

azzi’s laugh rings through her family’s living room, but if someone would have looked at her, they would have seen that it barely brushed her smile, didn’t even touch her eyes. there weren’t even any presents for paige under the tree, she noted. her mom had definitely bought something, they love loved her too much to not have thought of her before it happened. would they get them to paige still, somehow? what would azzi do with the hoodie, the shoes, the necklace she bought her?

who was she kidding, she’d sleep with them tonight, clutching them tight in her arms while wearing something else that still smelled like her, in the sheets they used to share.

…

paige knocks back another glass of something. definitely not very festive, she knows that much. sadly, it’s the only way she sees fit to rinse the images of her in matching christmas pajamas, baking cookies, under the covers��

stop, paige tells herself, because this is pathetic. begging on your damn knees because your girl(sorry, ex girl) was in a mood about an injury and told you to go fuck yourself, so you told her to go right on out of your bed. And you haven’t spoken to her since, unless it’s about basketball. Because it’s always about basketball

…

azzi gets nice and settled with her family, tucked in tight together on the couch to watch the Grinch, this year’s choice holiday movie. and it’s fine, azzi can sit there and try to forget, until a seemingly innocent little scene comes on. one who rushes up behind her husband, catching a quick goodbye kiss. that sends her over the edge, because she didn’t get a goodbye kiss. she should be cuddled here with her family and paige, and giggle when paige pecks her on the lips right along with the movie

she stands up abruptly, shaking her head and running into her room. she flings herself onto her bed, burying her face in paige’s hoodie, still laying there.

when katie fudd walks into the room, sitting on her daughter’s bed and lightly rubbing her back, she’s thinking of paige, too. she knows that’s who azzi needs in times like this, even when paige is the reason azzi gets like this. the only way to fix her issue with paige, sadly, is with paige.

“you should call her, sweetie”

azzi sits up, shaking her head as her tear stained face crumples again. “no, you don’t get it. she begged me not to call her. told me that if i called her, she knew we’d be right back to where we were, with the same issues.” a sob comes out at the end, because really, all azzi wants to do is call paige, beg her to hop on a flight and make it here by morning, then never let her leave her arms again.

“where’s my phone,” she sighs, teary eyes set in a determined stare.

…

paige startles awake, her phone buzzing under her pillow. the contact lit on her screen is the only one she didn’t want to see, couldn’t see. for some insane, unexplained reason, she slides to answer the call.

she hears a snuffle on the other end, then a voice croaking out, “paigey”

her resolve softens, just the way she knew it would.

“baby, is everything okay? did something happen?” she asks, even though she knows what azzi will tell her. this is what happens every time they fight, and one of them has to leave a few days after. except this time, it’s christmas.

“no, nothing is okay,” azzi whimpers into the phone. miles away, she’s clutching the phone like a lifeline, waving her mother out of the bedroom. “i need you, please, i need anything. i need to listen to you call me baby, and hold me in your arms.”

paige tries, she really does, to say no, to be firm, to say that they can talk about it when she comes back to school, but she really needs to take some of her own time right now. but something about the way azzi’s voice cracked when she said need had paige looking up quick flights.

she found nothing.

“paige?” azzi breathes, the line having gone silent.

“i’m so sorry, az. there’s no flights. not one damn plane can take me to you.”

she swears she can hear azzi’s face drop, and then she really does hear the shaking, gulping sobs that break through the speakers.

“no, sweetheart, please don’t cry. ill drive, i’ll be there tomorrow when you wake up, i swear up and down, baby, please don’t cry you’re breaking my heart,” paige grovels. she really doesn’t know how to refuse azzi, and when she’s crying, she doesn’t even think it’s possible.

“paigey, please, please, please,” azzi whispers, saying please like it’s a mantra, like it’s keeping her warm.

“yeah, baby, i’ve got you, just try and sleep. i’ll be there as quick as i can.

paige rushes around her room, mumbling affirmations to azzi as she collects things in a duffel, then locks her door and walks to her car. she hears azzi’s deep, stuttering breath that tells her she’s cried herself right to sleep.

…

the bed dips, making azzi snuffle and crack her eyes open. she glimpses a tired, tear-stained paige running her hand over her face. she then feels strong arms wrap around her, welcoming the protective feeling of someone near her as she falls back asleep.

…

paige holds azzi tightly, but her own eyes stay wide open. she cried silently nearly the entirety of her drive down here, thinking about how in a month or two, this fight will be back again, and they’ll do the same thing. sometimes, paige is the one begging for azzi to come and hold her. sometimes its azzi. same problem, because they’re connected, no matter how wrong it may seem, no matter how much they hurt each other, they’ll always be essential, the way you have to feel pain to gain something, and the way you have to boil noodles to soften them.

…

paige’s eyes flicker open, tasting azzi’s lips against her own.

“merry christmas, paige”

“i love you, azzi”

~ hope you enjoyed!

have a happy holiday!

#mutuals💀#paige bueckers #i love you sisterwifey forever <3 #remus lupin reference #azzi fudd #uconn wbb #paige bueckers x azzi fudd #pazzi #anons😗#merry christmas please don’t call

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guiltyc0nscience · 2 days ago

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⋆˙⟡ lacy, oh, lacy, matt sturniolo

ex!matt sturniolo x ex!fem reader

synopsis. in which your ex boyfriend matt gets a new girlfriend and you envy her.

warnings. angst, self comparison, ex!matt, jealousy.

word count. 700 words.

authors note. this is my fav song on guts :(

you were scrolling mindlessly through instagram, half-distracted by the show playing in the background, when it hits you like a punch in the gut.

matt’s name.

you almost swipe past it, the little blue checkmark drawing your attention before your brain has time to catch up. the first photo in the carousel is enough to make your chest tighten; matt’s unmistakable smile, wild and carefree, his arm slung casually around the waist of a girl who is undeniably beautiful.

she’s perfect in a way that feels cruel. her hair is shiny and soft, her skin glowing like she exists in some perpetually golden hour. she’s wearing a baby pink skirt and a white tank top, that made you second-guess every piece of clothing you ever owned. and matt—he’s looking at her like she’s the only thing that matters, his gaze full of that rare blend of comfort and adoration that used to be reserved for you.

your fingers hovered over the screen, but the curiosity wins. you click on her profile—never a good idea.

her name is lacy, a name as delicate and ethereal as she looks. her bio is full of cute emojis, and her feed is an endless stream of photos that make her seem both unreachable heartbreakingly real. there are candids of her laughing with friends, aesthetic shots of iced-lattes and sunsets, flawless photos of her, and of course, more pictures of her with matt.

each photo was a dagger.

you scroll further, unable to stop yourself. there’s a photo of her in a bikini that hugged her perfect body in all the right ways, standing on the beach, her arms wrapped around matt as he leans down to kiss her forehead. the stunning sunset in the background really setting the scene.

you hate her. you hate how easily she seems to slot into the life that used to be yours. you hate the way she seems so effortlessly happy, like she’s never had to sit in her room crying after seeing someone else post photos like this. most of all, you hate how much she reminds you of everything you’re not.

lacy was kind. you could tell by the way people commented under her posts, by the stories where she’s tagged with the captions like “the sweetest person alive” and “my literal angel.” she’s funny, too, with captions that actually made you laugh even though you resented her for it. and then there’s the way she looks at matt in every picture. it’s the kind of look you recognised because it used to be yours.

and matt—he’s happy. he looks like he’s found the thing he’s been searching for.

it feels like a slap in the face.

you tell yourself to stop. to close the app, put your phone down, and do literally anything else. but instead, you go back to his post, lingering on the comment section. the flood of heart emojis and “you two are perfect” messages like tiny arrows, each one reminding you that this is his life now.

he doesn’t think about you anymore.

the realisation hits harder than you expect. it’s not like you thought he was still pining for you, but seeing it laid out in front of you—proof that he’s moved on, that he’s happy—makes your stomach churn.

you close instagram and toss your phone onto your bed next to you, but the damage is done. lacy is burned into your mind now, an image you can’t shake. you think about her at random moments, comparing yourself to her in ways that feel pathetic but impossible to stop.

would matt have loved you more if you’d been more like her? if you’d laughed more or dressed better or been softer around the edges?

you hate how much you care.

it’s not just jealousy—it’s grief. for what you had with matt, for the person you were when you were with him. for the version of you that thought she was enough.

you try to tell yourself it’s just a passing feeling, that in a few days this ache will dull into something manageable. but tonight, it’s sharp and all-consuming, and it’s hard not to feel like lacy has taken more than matt from you.

she’s taken the version of yourself that felt loved.

and you can’t stop wondering if you’ll ever get her back.

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gotta-winwin · 15 hours ago

Text

(🎄) ... mirth and good cheer - xmas special

⭐ starring: vernon

🎄preview: vernon used to fly back to new york every christmas for one reason only: his childhood best friend. christmas used to be his and y/n’s thing, until he got seemingly too busy to ever return. now, as y/n departs to korea for the first time, she can’t help but wonder if her and vernon would ever cross paths again. vernon, unbeknownst to her, has been wondering the exact same thing. as the boys set up their christmas tree in their dorm, he does his best to ignore how hints of y/n still seemed to linger throughout the holiday air.

tw/cw: idol!vernon x nonidol!reader, childhood friends to lovers, estranged friends, slight miscommunication, fluff, slight angst, best christmas romcom vibes, features svt members, stubborn!reader, equallystubborn!vernon, use of y/n, flips between past and present day

☁️ masterlist & a/n: dropping a vernon x reader fic for our xmas special! doesn't vernon just scream childhood bestie to lover (੭˃ᴗ˂)੭ merry christmas my loves!

11 DAYS FROM CHRISTMAS 2024:

“That’s not how it’s supposed to work.” Mingyu slapped Vernon’s hand away from the tree they were decorating. “It’s supposed to be symmetrical, not whatever you’re doing.”

Vernon had to admit he wasn’t really paying attention. Their dorm auntie, the one who came around once a week to clean up the place, had baked them gingerbread men as a Christmas gift, and the smell felt like it had seeped into the walls of their dorm. It was a nostalgic smell, one that took him back to his childhood, new york and-

“Vernon?” Mingyu waved a hand in front of his face. “Are you even listening right now?”

He blinked, brought back from his thoughts. “Sorry, hyung. What?”

Mingyu could only let out a deep sigh, moving to place the bauble where he intended it to be. “You’re like this every Christmas. If you miss her so much, why don’t you just fly back?”

Vernon didn’t really know why he wasn’t flying back. He certainly could be, they were off work for the holidays and a plane ticket back wasn’t hard to find. He would be doing himself a favor, putting himself out of misery and finally seeing his childhood best friend. The thing was, he wasn’t really sure if Y/N wanted to see him. He shrugged. “I don’t miss her.” It was a lie and everyone in the room knew it.

CHRISTMAS DAY 2003:

Everyone who knew either of them would say they were smart kids for their age. Both only five, they whispered secrets to each other like little middle schoolers would on the playground.

“My parents say I’m going to Korea.” Vernon whispered to Y/N as they watched a christmas movie. “Forever.” Vernon always had a dramatic, theatrical side to him, even as a child.

Y/N could only frown. “Forever? Why?” She couldn’t imagine her best friend moving anywhere without her. “Am I going too?”

Vernon mirrored her frown on his own face. “I don’t know.” Sensing her sadness, he reached over and gave her a hug. “I’ll visit every year.” He promised.

“Every christmas.” Y/N insisted. She had always loved christmas above all else. “So we can watch movies again.”

Vernon agreed. “Okay. Every christmas. It’ll be like-” He paused, his young mind searching for the word. “Tradition.” He smiled at her, proud of the big word.

“Promise?” Y/N stared at him with wide eyes, reaching out with her pinky, extended. “Pinky promise me.”

Vernon grasped her pinky with his, shaking it firmly. He felt like a grown up, making one of those important business deals. “I promise.” Turning back to the screen, he let out a whine when he realized they had missed the best part. “We missed the part where the grinch screams down the mountain.” He complained. “I wanted to watch that part.”

Y/N got up, searching for the remote. “I’ll turn it back.”

Their dynamic never changed, even as they grew older. Vernon walked through life, Y/N following behind him with eyes filled with admiration, gently nudging the boy whenever he got distracted and began walking off-track. It stayed that way even with the distance, until one Christmas, Y/N woke up and Vernon had not returned.

CHRISTMAS DAY 2016:

“Mom?” Y/N called as she walked slowly down the stairs. She had returned home from university for the holidays and was confused when Vernon wasn’t at his usual spot to welcome her home. “Where’s Vernon?” He was usually back from Korea by now.

She didn’t like the look of pity her mother was giving her. “He didn’t tell you, honey? He’s been so busy with work, looks like he can’t fly back to join us for christmas this year.”

She felt her heart sink. She had been looking forward to spending time with him, even if it was just a couple of days out of the year. “Oh.” Of course, she understood. His work was important and she was sure the kpop industry couldn’t be easy. “That’s okay. I guess he must’ve been too busy to tell me.”

“What are you still doing here?” Joshua frowned at Vernon, who was lying down on his bed. “Shouldn’t you be in New York by now?” He was used to Vernon flying back to New York every christmas since they had met.

Vernon let out a huff. “Not going back this year, Josh.”

“Why not?” His friend pressed, confused. Vernon was usually so excited to go back. “Isn’t your friend going to be sad?”

“I can’t miss any more practice before our comeback. One Christmas should be fine.” Vernon explained, although his voice betrayed his disappointment. He had been looking forward to going back home, to be able to see Y/N again. He thought to himself that one christmas couldn’t hurt, right?

One Christmas missed turned into two. Then four. Then the timing felt too long and awkward and Vernon just never got the confidence to ever go back.

10 DAYS FROM CHRISTMAS 2024:

Korea was beautiful underneath a sheet of snow. Y/N had landed last night, having made up her mind to give living in Korea a try. Ever since graduating university and landing a job as a screenwriter, her friends and family had always urged her to try working for the Korean film scene.

She supposed she had always just avoided the country because of Vernon.

Her new job writing for some K-drama started after New Years. She thought maybe spending Christmas in a new place would bring back the mirth and good cheer the holiday used to give her, but she knew she was here for a different reason. A selfish and pathetic one. It burned her, that a part of her still wished to bump into Vernon after all these years. She knew he was doing well, SEVENTEEN was soaring through new heights and she had kept tabs on his ongoing success. It was the only way she kept going: his large internet presence sometimes made it feel like he never even left at all.

It hurt her the most that he could be doing so well without ever seeing her again.

Rounding the corner to the coffee shop, she rubbed her raw hands to regain heat. Ordering, she was relieved to find out she could still hold a conversation in Korean. It had gone rusty, the only people she ever used Korean with back home was Vernon’s dad and sister.

“Hello?” Someone from behind her tapped her on the shoulder. “Do I know you from somewhere?”

She was greeted by a slightly taller, blond man, sporting black rimmed glasses and holding a cup of iced coffee. Her mind short circuiting a bit from the sudden Korean, she paused, trying to recollect her thoughts before replying. “I don’t think so?”

The man’s eyes widened in sudden recognition. “You’re the girl in the Christmas photos!” He exclaimed with wonder, pointing at her as if they were long lost friends.

She squinted, giving him another look over. “Um..” She frowned, quite sure she didn’t know this man.

“Sorry.” He smiled sheepishly at her, extending his hand for a handshake. “That probably came out wrong. You’re Vernon’s friend from New York, right? I’ve seen you in the pictures on his wall.”

She blanched, all of a sudden feeling very light and disoriented. “I’m sorry.” She smiled politely, still racking her brain furiously for the guy’s name. “How do you know Vernon?”

“I’m Seungkwan.” He explained, dropping her hand. “Vernon’s bandmate.”

She let out a sound of realization. “Ah~” She knew who he was. “Seungkwan. Sorry, I didn’t expect you to have blonde hair now.”

Chuckling at her shy admission, Seungkwan felt strangely sad to see the girl in Korea. “When did you come to Korea?” He asked, knowing Vernon would lose his shit if he found out they had been in the same location for a while.

“I arrived just last night.”

He left out a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding. Okay, at least it hadn’t been very long. “You should come to our Christmas party.” He suggested, knowing Vernon would be there. “It’s being hosted at Coups hyung’s house this year, and everyone will be there.”

Y/N shook her head. “I wouldn’t want to make things weird.” She already caught on to the fact that Seungkwan knew all about her and Vernon’s falling out, or lack of one.

“You wouldn’t.” He insisted. “You must come. I’d hate to see you spend Christmas by yourself.”

It didn’t take much for Y/N to relent. She supposed a part of her had been looking for a chance to see Vernon again. “Alright. I’ll stop by and say a quick hi to everyone.”

Seungkwan’s smile was contagious as he beamed, grabbing a napkin to scribble Scoups’ address onto it and handing it to her. “It’s at 7pm on the 24th. Bring a present- something small.” He hurriedly gave her all the details as he left, mumbling about being late for a company meeting and how lovely it was to finally meet Vernon’s mystery girl.

Holding the napkin in her still freezing hand, Y/N felt utterly shipwrecked as she watched Seungkwan leave. Nine days was enough to prepare her heart to see Vernon again, right?

12 HOURS TILL CHRISTMAS 2024:

The frost in the air bit at Y/N’s face and neck as she quickly rang the doorbell to Seungcheol’s home. It was smaller than she had expected it to be, homey and comfortably situated in between two other larger houses.

“Y/N!” Seungkwan greeted her as he opened the door, tugging her in. “Oh, look at you. You must be freezing. Come in, come in.” Taking her coat from her and hanging it up, he beamed down at her. “I’m so glad you actually came.”

She bit back a smile, taking off her shoes. “I couldn’t turn down an invitation from Vernon’s friends.”

“Vernon’s in the living room with the others.” Seungkwan pointed down the hall, directing her over.

Y/N paused, loitering in the hallway between the door to the living room and the door to the kitchen. She felt strangely pulled towards the kitchen, knowing it’d be safe without the chance of a potential run-in with Vernon. Turning decisively towards the kitchen, she pretended not to hear Seungkwan’s deep sigh as he followed her in, knowing the boy was disappointed she had run away.

“It’s the girl from Vernon’s photos!” Hoshi sprung off the kitchen island to greet her, handing her a cup of mystery liquid.

She sniffed it before cringing away at the strong liquor scent. “That’s me.” She mumbled, shoulders sagging a little. “Does he really still have photos of me up?

Everyone in the kitchen nodded simultaneously. “It’s been on his wall since we were trainees.” Joshua informed her, his eyes holding a teasing glint. “Every time we move places he just puts it back up.”

Y/N didn’t really know what to do with that information. “Oh.” She replied, looking down in her cup, thinking. “I didn’t know that.”

Seungkwan let out a loud sigh once again. “You should go talk to him.”

She looked up.

“Please.” He added, his tone bordering on begging. “He’s been so grumpy. Especially during the holiday season. I got a pillow to the face for asking him a simple question yesterday.” He grumbled out, complaining about his moody roommate.

“What did you ask him?” Joshua asked, mildly curious.

Seungkwan shrugged. “Just if he was going back to New York.”

“Of course he threw a pillow at you.” Joshua rolled his eyes. “I’m surprised he didn’t just deck you, with how you were antagonizing him. You know very well he hasn’t gone back in years.”

Y/N watched the conversation silently, gagging quietly as she sipped the concoction Hoshi had handed her. She absorbed the information diligently, her eyes widening the more information she got on Vernon. Distance had turned him into a stranger - and now, well, she couldn’t really say she knew him at all. It was strange, having to admit someone she used to read like the back of her own hand was someone she now didn’t know at all.

“I’m going to the living room.” She decided, having had enough of the topic. If she kept listening to them talk about Vernon’s struggles and heartache about leaving her in New York one more minute she might find herself leaving for the night. Being in the same room with Vernon was just going to be awkward silence anyways. She knew he wasn’t brave enough to approach her. At least not tonight.

“Y/N!”

It was Mingyu and Wonwoo who greeted her from the couch, the two of them in the middle of an intense round of what looked to be Mariokart. They waved at her from their place, inviting her over to sit next to them. She was painfully aware of Vernon’s eyes staring at her from his place on the rug, fingers busy with a random puzzle that was lying out.

“Hi guys.” She smiled, sitting down, laughing when Mingyu pushed Wonwoo in an attempt to disrupt his driving.

“We didn’t know you were in Korea for Christmas!” Mingyu exclaimed. “Good thing Seungkwan bumped into you when he did and invited you over.”

She glanced at Vernon, who was doing his best to pretend like he wasn’t interested in their conversation. “Yeah. I moved here recently actually. Got a job writing for a TV show.”

Vernon’s eyes widened as he fixed his stare against the white rug.

“That’s cool.” Wonwoo smiled at Y/N, happy for her. “It’s good that you’re in Korea now.” He side eyed Vernon, frowning when he realized the boy hadn’t even spoken to Y/N. Nudging him with his foot, he gestured with his gaze. “Did you hear Vernon? Y/N got a job here.”

Vernon nodded stiffly before standing up. “I think Cheol hyung’s calling me, I’ll- I’ll go see what he wants.” And just like that he was gone, rushing out of the living room.

Wonwoo looked apologetically at Y/N. “I’m sorry about that.”

She shrugged, although her heart had cracked at the movement. “It’s okay.”

“Maybe now that you’re in Korea you guys can be friends again?” Mingyu suggested quietly, although a part of him wasn’t really certain about it. “Maybe?”

“Maybe.” She mumbled, taking another sip of her drink, feeling her face flush with heat. Anger or embarrassment, she couldn’t tell.

Maybe it was the alcohol speaking, but Y/N could feel her lips start to loosen the more she sat with Mingyu and Wonwoo, the party heading later into the night.

“You know I used to hate you guys.” She admitted all of a sudden, jolting both boys out of whatever conversation they were having.

“What?” Wonwoo frowned. “Why?”

“I hated Vernon for choosing you guys over me.” She lowered her eyes to the floor, feeling ashamed. “I know it’s childish of me, but hating you guys was how I dealt with it. I couldn’t bring myself to hate Vernon for his own actions.”

Mingyu looked at her with sad eyes as he patted her on the back gently. “I get that.” He reassured her, and she looked over at Wonwoo who was nodding as well.

“Do you still hate us?” Wonwoo asked, his voice calm.

She shook her head. “No. So I guess I’m just-” She paused. “Confused now.”

She hated how pitiful their looks made her feel as she sat there, nursing her half finished drink, mind spinning. Perhaps it was time to leave her silly childhood infatuation with Vernon in the past. It seemed like he had done so already anyways.

10 HOURS TILL CHRISTMAS 2024:

Vernon felt like throwing up the moment he saw Y/N enter the party. It felt like a vision, something he had conjured up within his own mind, until the others had greeted her and shattered his vision into reality.

“Talk to her, you moron.” Seungkwan nudged him. He had retreated from the living room into the kitchen the moment Y/N had sat down with the others on the couch. It physically stung to be in the same room as her, with all the knowledge that he had failed her and their once cherished friendship.

He took another gulp of his drink instead of answering Seungkwan.

“She clearly still loves you, y’know.” The boy continued upon hearing Vernon’s silence. “Or else she wouldn’t be here. And didn’t you always tell us Y/N would follow you around like a puppy whenever you were back home as kids?”

Screw Seungkwan and his amazing, awfully selective memory.

“So?” Vernon mumbled, rolling his shoulders back and feeling himself tense. “Things change.”

“You’ve changed.”

Vernon stared at his friend, thrown off by the sudden harsh truths. “What?”

“I don’t think she’s changed at all, Vernon.” Seungkwan observed. “It’s you who’s changed and you who has to fix it.” He paused. “Or at least explain it to her. Why you don’t want to be friends anymore.”

“I do want to be friends.” He stated plainly.

Seungkwan cut his eyes at him, exasperated. “Then tell her that. Jeez, bro. You suck at this.”

“We’re swapping presents now!” Seungcheol poked his head out from behind the hallway door. “Everyone in the living room!”

Vernon grabbed his present from the counter and headed in behind Seungkwan and Joshua, turning the box in his hands as he examined the poor wrapping job he had done last night. He had bought the most generic gift he could find, knowing it was going to be a random swap with the boys. The thing he hadn’t accounted for was Y/N showing up - and now it had thrown both his present and him off the game.

“Grab a pair.” Seungcheol announced loudly to everyone in the room, as there was a mad scramble for partners.

Vernon found himself standing alone in the midst of his bandmates all already coupled up, limbs tangled together in an awkward mad dash for a partner. His eyes met the only other person with a partner and he stifled a pained cry.

“It looks like you and Y/N are exchanging gifts this year, Non.” Seungkwan shot him a large grin from his spot next to Mingyu.

He knew this had to be preplanned - fate couldn’t be this cruel, right?

“Go on.” Seungkwan poked him in the back, urging him to approach Y/N, who suddenly seemed to be very captivated by a nearby portrait of Seungcheol and Kkmua, placed on the shelf next to her. She stared at it intensely, although Vernon knew she was still hyper-aware of the fact that he was slowly walking towards her. She had that funny way of darting her eyes towards the person she was avoiding while not facing in their direction.

“Y/N.” Her name sounded so foreign yet so familiar across his tongue as he spoke.

“Vernon.”

Her voice felt like coming home.

“Here.” He placed his gift in her hands as he took hers, turning it awkwardly in his hands. “What is it?” He asked, shaking it gently.

The corners of her mouth lifted. “Telling you would defeat the purpose of it being a surprise.”

“You said that last time too.”

He watched her stiffen at his words and he immediately regretted bringing up the past. They both knew last time had been years ago.

“I guess I did.” She replied stiffly, turning his gift in her hands. “What’s yours?”

“Thought you liked your presents to be a surprise?” He recalled, remembering how she used to whine that he must wrap her presents, when the teenage him had insisted that just putting it in a bag would be fine.

“I do.” Her tone made it sound like she was just remembering that fact herself. She looked up and shot him an awkward smile. “I guess I don’t really know what to say.”

“Me either.”

He could’ve sworn he saw her face drop at his words.

They separated soon after, the uncomfortable silence taking over and suffocating them both out of the vicinity of each other. Vernon returned to his spot in the kitchen, picking at the pieces of takeout still leftover on the counter, listening to the others squabble over meaningless things.

He watched Y/N leave, feet rooted by the hallway door and mouth firmly shut closed - he didn’t trust himself to say goodbye to her - he knew that if he had, a million unsaid words would have spilled out and the night would have ended terribly for the both of them. But it was the fear that kept him still most of all, as he watched her exchange numbers with Seungkwan, hugging the others and promising to keep in touch. He stayed as still as a statue as the door shut behind her.

“You idiot.” Seungkwan turned to face him as soon as he locked the door.

“Seungkwan.” Seungcheol’s warning tone made Vernon look at him. He was sending a strong warning glance at the boy.

“What?” Seungkwan protested. “He is being stupid.”

“I think I’m going to head back.” Vernon mumbled, grabbing his coat and hurriedly throwing it on, Y/N’s gift clutched tightly under his arm as he headed for the door. “Thanks for the party, Coups hyung.” He called behind him, shutting the door behind him and welcoming in the cool, biting winter air.

He released the pent up breath that had been choking him all night and furiously wiped away the tears that had begun to form the moment he shut the door behind him.

“Idiot.” He quietly chided himself. “So stupid.”

CHRISTMAS 2018:

“Are you really never going back to New York?” Joshua prodded at his arm with an insistent jab of a finger.

Vernon hummed in response. “There’s no point. My family prefers coming to Korea for the holidays anyways. They get to visit family here and everything.”

“What about your girlfriend?”

Vernon turned his head to see Joshua sporting a shit eating grin. “You know she’s not my girlfriend.”

“Might as well be.” He shrugged, pointing at the various photos that featured her against his wall. “Look at your pathetic loving gaze at her in all of these photos. You’re not even looking at the camera in any of these.”

Vernon frowned at his comment, taking a good look at the photos and realizing Joshua was right. “Doesn’t matter what I feel, hyung. She’s not my girlfriend.”

“She’ll never be if you don’t go back.” Joshua suddenly got serious, as he shifted in his seat to look at Vernon better. “Is there an actual reason why you won’t go back? I know we were too busy the last two years but this year we’re free.”

Vernon stayed silent even though the answer was clear as day in his mind. He was scared, terrified even. Terrified he had hurt her by neglecting her due to his heavy schedules, that she would slam the door in his face if he tried to visit her. “I don’t want to see her hate me.” He finally spat out, cringing as he said it.

Joshua let out a tiny noise of understanding. “So you’re avoiding her. Pretending so you don’t have to deal with the consequences.”

“When you put it like that you make me sound like an asshole.”

Joshua gave him a look that bordered on pitiful. “I don’t know what to tell you, man.”

“I’d rather remember her like this, y’know?” He said, pointing at the way she smiled at him in the pictures on his wall. “Instead of-”

“She might not hate you.” Joshua reminded him quietly from next to him.

“I really, really doubt that, hyung.”

5 HOURS TILL CHRISTMAS:

It wasn’t computing properly into Vernon’s head that you had just gotten him the one thing he’s been wanting all his life.

He had been ogling the Novation Launchpad Pro that was currently sitting on his work table for the last hour, not really believing what he was seeing with his own two eyes. Unwrapping it had been a heart attack in of itself, as he opened up Y/N’s present to reveal the one thing that had been sitting on the top of his childhood wish list since he could remember. Even now, as a famous artist who could afford the splurge, he had never gotten it for himself, knowing it was a luxury and a purchase he didn’t necessarily need.

“What the fuck, Y/N.” He muttered in disbelief, sliding his palm down his face as he continued to stare at the gift. It was fucking fantastic and exactly what he wanted, and it made him feel even worse about the whole situation.

She might not hate you. He recalled the words Joshua had told him one time, Christmases ago.

“Someone who hated me wouldn’t have gotten me this, right?” He said aloud to himself, reaching a timid hand out to fiddle with the launchpad controls. “How did she even know we’d be exchanging gifts anyways?” And how on earth does she know I never got myself one? In what felt like a split second decision, Vernon felt himself walking towards the door of his apartment, sliding his shoes on and grabbing his keys - only one destination in mind. He had to fix this, somehow. Because there was no fucking way she still hated him.

4 HOURS TILL CHRISTMAS:

She would’ve complained that the sudden doorbell at 3am woke her up but she hadn’t really been sleeping. Y/N had been lying in bed with her eyes wide open since the moment she’d gotten home, the bag of chocolates and various snacks from Vernon left on her kitchen counter. She had stifled a laugh when she opened it - even till this day, Vernon’s go to gift was still the same. Chocolate and snacks can never fail, he had told her, defending his choice of gift. Especially when you don’t know the person too well.

She supposed that line made sense for their situation too.

“Vernon?” She squinted at the figure standing on her porch in the dark. “What are you doing here?” She rubbed her eyes, mildly wondering if she was dreaming.

He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly as he stared down at her. “You got me the launchpad.”

She blinked. “Yeah.”

“How’d you know?”

She stared back at him, stunned at his bluntness and the randomness of the current setting. “You never shut up about it.”

His mouth opened and closed again. She watched as he tried looking for words, his vocabulary ultimately failing him.

“Come inside.” She said quietly, noticing how the harsh winter wind blew at his thin coat. Dragging him gently inside, she shut the door behind them both, turning around awkwardly to face him. She never thought she’d ever see him in his apartment - yet he looked so perfect.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled, eyes darting around her place, taking it all in. “I know it’s late.” Glancing down at her pajamas, his lips quivered in a small smile. “Cute.”

“What?” She stared at him indignantly, completely thrown off by his behaviour. “Are you drunk?” She reached out a hand to touch his face, trying to check his temperature, but he caught her hand in his before she could reach.

“I’m not drunk, Y/N.” He dropped her hand like it had burned him.

“Then what are you here for?”

She watched him moisten his lips as he stalled for time.

“I wanted to say sorry.” He finally said, his words tumbling out as if they had been held back for long enough. “I shouldn’t have cut you off like that.”

She thought she’d have a more visceral reaction to the apology she had been waiting for all this time, but she didn’t. “Why are you saying this now? It’s been nearly ten years, Vernon.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

Her shoulders sagged at his words and the sight of his dejected, ashamed face. “Why didn’t you come back? Or text me?” She asked him, pleading for an answer.

He finally looked up and met her eyes. “I guess I was scared. I got busy one year and didn’t go back- and I neglected our friendship. And then-” He paused, his voice breaking. “I left, and time passed and staying away felt simpler than going back. No goodbye felt better than a bad one.”

“It wouldn’t have been a bad goodbye.”

He shook his head. “You hated me.”

She looked away, remembering all the times she had cursed him for leaving her behind when she was younger. “Maybe. But never for long.” She mustered all her courage to tell him her next words. “I loved you too much to hate you for very long.”

Vernon blinked at her. “You loved me?”

She hummed in response, still not quite looking at him. They stood there, by her door, in the dim lights of her apartment.

“How did you even get my address?” She suddenly asked, forgetting he shouldn’t have known where to find her.

Vernon stayed silent, his mind still reeling from the sudden love confession. She used to love me?

“Vernon.” Y/N nudged him.

“Oh.” He finally responded, although his own voice felt like light years away as his mind continued to reel. “I asked my sister. Didn’t know you guys still talked.”

“Oh.”

“You used to love me?” He asked, incredulous, not quite believing her words. “Why?”

She laughed, and the sound wrapped around Vernon like her hugs used to. “What do you mean, why? Of course I loved you. I followed you around like a lost kid our entire childhood.”

“I loved you too, y’know.”

Her smile dropped as she paused mid-laugh. “What?”

He took a step closer to her, unsure where the sudden confidence was coming from. Vernon searched her eyes for some figment of affection, for truth, for the way she used to look at him when they were younger. “I don’t think I ever stopped loving you.” He finally admitted. “I definitely tried to, but your hold on me lasted through distance and time.”

“Me too.”

“What?”

“I never stopped loving you too.”

#seventeen imagines #svt #svt imagines #seventeen #svt fluff #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #seventeen fic #seventeen scenarios #seventeen christmas #svt fic #svt scenarios #svt vernon #vernon x you #vernon x reader #seventeen vernon #vernon

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nerdylittlebugcreature · 2 days ago

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my reaction to this was just to grip my computer screen and shake from joy, I loVE IT AHHWFBUYWYRFVUEGRVCBJGWFBFUG3FWBUYFVUYEYGBRIHEJFIENRVIURIEKVIE

It's not Christmas yet, but yeah, happy holidays, everyone!!!!

(unshaded version under the cut 🙏)

I thought I might have gotten a little carried away with the shading, so here's a more visible version 🤞

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little-jana · 1 day ago

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"Let's Be Alone Together"

Pairing: Spencer Reid x reader

Genre: fluff

Warnings: kissing, just two cuties

Words: 1.7k

Summary: Reader and Spencer escape reality together and spent Christmas together.

Christmas Eve in Quantico wasn’t exactly where I imagined spending the holiday, but the BAU didn’t really operate on a nine-to-five schedule. A last-minute case had pulled everyone into the office earlier that week, but thankfully, we’d wrapped it up just in time for the holidays.

Now, the bullpen was quiet, save for the faint hum of the fluorescent lights. Most of the team had already headed home, eager to spend Christmas with their families. I should’ve done the same, but somehow, I couldn’t bring myself to leave. The blinking cursor on my laptop screen had hypnotized me, or at least that’s the excuse I told myself.

The truth was, it wasn’t like I had anyone waiting for me at home. My plans consisted of takeout, bad Christmas movies, and falling asleep on the couch. Maybe a part of me had hoped that if I stayed long enough, I wouldn’t have to face that silence.

A familiar voice broke through my thoughts. “Still here?”

I glanced up to see Spencer Reid standing by his desk, looking equally as stranded. His cardigan was slightly askew, his tie loosened just enough to look almost relaxed.

“You’re still here too,” I countered, offering him a small smile.

He shrugged, shuffling a few papers on his desk. “I thought I’d finish up some reading before heading out. What about you?”

I gestured to my screen. “Pretending to be productive.”

Spencer chuckled softly, his smile growing. “It’s Christmas Eve. You’re allowed to take a break, you know.”

“I could say the same to you, genius,” I teased. “What is it this time? A thesis on the psychological implications of holiday traditions?”

He gave me a sheepish smile. “Actually, it’s a collection of Christmas short stories. Charles Dickens, O. Henry...”

“Fiction?,” I said surprised.

“I do enjoy a good academic paper,” he admitted with a grin. “But sometimes… fiction feels like a better escape.”

I leaned back in my chair, studying him. “So, you’re avoiding reality too, huh?”

Spencer hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah. I guess I am.”

There was something vulnerable in the way he said it, something that made my chest ache. Spencer wasn’t exactly the most open person when it came to his feelings, but I’d learned to read between the lines.

“You know,” I said, standing and crossing the room toward him, “we could avoid reality together. I’ve got leftover cookies and a terrible collection of Christmas movies. What do you say?”

He blinked, startled. “You mean… tonight? With you?”

“No, Spencer, I meant with the ghost of Christmas past,” I teased, rolling my eyes.

He laughed softly, shaking his head. “I don’t want to impose—”

“Spence,” I interrupted, my tone gentle but firm. “It’s not imposing if I’m inviting you. Come on. It’ll be fun.”

He looked at me for a long moment, his eyes searching mine, before finally nodding. “Okay. I’d like that.”

---

An hour later, we were sitting on my couch, surrounded by the warm glow of twinkling Christmas lights. A tin of cookies rested between us, along with two steaming mugs of hot chocolate. Spencer had insisted on helping me carry everything up from my car earlier, and now he was inspecting one of the sugar cookies with a level of scrutiny that made me laugh.

“It’s just a cookie, Spence,” I said, nudging him playfully.

“Actually, there’s a fascinating history behind sugar cookies,” he began, his face lighting up. “They originated in Pennsylvania in the 1700s—”

I held up a hand, laughing. “Let me stop you right there. No cookie history tonight. We’re watching Rudolph, and that’s final.”

He sighed dramatically but didn’t argue. “Fine. But if I’m going to sit through stop-motion reindeer, I expect at least one scientific inaccuracy to discuss.”

We settled into the couch, the opening credits of Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer playing softly in the background. Spencer was surprisingly into it, occasionally pointing out character dynamics or chuckling at the outdated animation.

By the time the movie ended, I felt a warmth in my chest that had nothing to do with the hot chocolate. Spencer had relaxed completely, his usual guarded demeanor replaced by something softer, something sweeter.

“You know,” he said quietly, breaking the comfortable silence, “this is the first Christmas Eve I haven’t spent alone in… a long time.”

His words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken emotion. I turned to him, my heart aching at the vulnerability in his voice.

“You’re not alone now,” I said softly.

He looked at me, his eyes searching mine. “Thank you,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “For this. For… everything.”

I smiled, reaching out to place my hand over his. “You don’t have to thank me, Spence. I’m just glad you’re here.”

For a moment, we just sat there, the silence between us filled with something unspoken but deeply understood.

“You know,” he said, his voice hesitant, “I’ve always found it hard to connect with people. But with you… it’s different. It’s easy.”

My breath caught at the sincerity in his voice. “It’s easy with you too, Spencer,” I admitted, my voice barely audible.

He hesitated, then took a small, tentative step closer. “Can I tell you something?”

“Of course.”

“I… I think this might be the best Christmas Eve I’ve ever had,” he said, his cheeks flushing slightly.

I felt my heart swell at his words, and before I could overthink it, I leaned in and kissed his cheek, letting my lips linger for just a moment. His skin was warm, and I felt him freeze slightly before relaxing under the soft touch.

When I pulled back, he was staring at me, his eyes wide and filled with something I couldn’t quite name.

“Sorry,” I said quickly, suddenly self-conscious. ��I didn’t mean to—”

“Don’t apologize,” he said, his voice soft but firm.

Before I could say anything else, he leaned forward, closing the small distance between us, and pressed his lips gently against mine. The kiss was soft and sweet, a perfect mix of shyness and intent.

When he finally pulled back, his cheeks were bright red, but there was a small, shy smile on his lips.

“Merry Christmas,” he said quietly, his voice full of warmth.

“Merry Christmas, Spencer,” I replied, my heart feeling lighter than it had in years.

And as we sat there, the glow of the Christmas tree wrapping us in its warmth, I couldn’t help but think that this—being here with him—was exactly what Christmas was supposed to feel like.

a/n: I wish you all a Merry Christmas and a peaceful holiday season.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #chrismas #matthew gray gubler #criminal minds one shot #criminal minds imagine

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mattslilies · 2 days ago

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✩ criminologist!reader - doing homework over at matt's house <3

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"ugh, that's awful!"

you spun around, closing out the crime scene photos on your laptop, and offering matt, who had just come back from the bathroom, an apologetic grin. "sorry, baby. didn't realize you'd walk in as i opened the file."

matt grimaced, shaking his head as if to clear the images from his brain as he walked over to the table. "why in the world are you looking at that, anyways?"

you turned back to your computer and your books, reopening the tab once matt had taken a seat opposite you, where he could no longer see the laptop screen.

"just glancing over old cases, seeing if they line up with what i thought the pyschological aspect of the criminal was the first time. can't hurt to check my work."

taking a sip of water, matt didn't dare to look back at the screen. "i don't know how you stomach seeing all of that, especially on a daily basis."

you shrugged, stealing the water bottle from him, and also taking a drink out of it.

"you get used to it. eventually you don't even really bat an eye at it anymore. it takes a really bad one to rattle me now. this one isn't that terrible... just a confusing amount of blood at the scene."

matt clamped his hands over his ears, closing his eyes. "nope, i don't need to hear about any blood at any scenes. i'm all good, no thank you."

you laughed, knowing your boyfriend had a weaker stomach when it came to this stuff than you did. you were a little more desensitized, having seen so much of it in both your studies and your true crime consumption.

you spun the laptop around, seeing matt still had his eyes closed.

"open your eyes, babe. it's not any crime scene photos, i promise."

upon opening his eyes, matt breathed out a sigh of relief, smiling at the cute photos of fluffy cats that were pulled up on your screen.

you often enjoyed cute animal therapy after finishing tough assignments, so it wasn't uncommon for you to have a tab pulled up of kittens, or puppies, or something cute to cleanse your mind.

closing your laptop, you moved around the other side of the table to sit next to your boyfriend, wrapping an arm around his waist and pressing a kiss to his cheek.

"i can pause this for today. what do you say we just hang out, watch a movie?"

matt smiled, agreeing, as you both moved towards the couch.

"as long as by "movie", you don't mean "true crime documentary."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

first post of this au!!! i hope you enjoy!!

#matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt stuniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #the sturniolo triplets #matthew bernard sturniolo #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #mattslilies

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rose-tinted-kalopsia · 2 days ago

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gen ; 871 words of pure complete caleb fluff for my personal comfort because i can't get this man out of my head (wow roxie posting fluff? girl what happened to you)

to be loved is to be seen.

a long day passed; he's there at the door. you can smell something simmering from the kitchen, the scent of comfort filling the room and maybe getting to your head a little... it's your favorite dish. you'd know that smell anywhere. and you've always liked it best when he cooks it...

he knows that.

to be loved is to be seen.

and he's pulling you in by the waist, not quite a hug, but rather a little bit of a once-over as he leans back to take a good look at you.

there's a pause.

the look in his eyes is gentle; fond. his head tilts, and there's something unsaid, unspoken, in the air between you...

you know the words on his lips before he says them.

"look at you, all pretty like that."

it's quiet, with a little bit of a chuckle.

"welcome back, pipsqueak."

typical caleb.

and this time there's a kiss on the tip of your nose, before he reaches a hand up to fix your hair— there's a piece of snow settled into it, and he knows that you don't like that. he'd brush it out for you, leave your hair neatly.

just the way you prefer it to be.

to be loved is to be seen.

and he knows more than you think.

you're an open book to him; maybe it's scary, and maybe it's a little unnerving, but—

maybe it's nice.

no words need to be shared.

he's happy to keep his arm around you, happy to wrap you up in blankets as you snuggle together on the couch and your favorite movie is playing softly on the screen in front of you. it's snowing outside, but you barely notice it; barely care. he keeps you warm from the cold. it's cozy. your head rests on his shoulder, and he hums quietly into your hair—and it's nice.

"it's been a long day," you murmur.

you blow your hair out from your face, and he fixes it right then for you. neat; the way you like it to be.

"oh, yeah? i could tell," he says. he chuckles—a little bit of a nudge in the form of a joke.

but he smiles.

"tell me about it, pipsqueak. i wanna listen."

to be loved is to be seen.

and maybe you scoff at him, but maybe you speak as he inclines. and maybe the movie's drowned out in the background, maybe all that you care about is the soft rumble of his chest when he laughs at the stupidest joke you've ever made in your life...

because deflect with humor, right? you've always done that. and he laughs, because you want him to laugh. and he reaches up to flick at your forehead. because he knows.

"you can be serious about it if you wanna, y'know," he shakes his head. "don't always gotta put on a strong front, 'specially not with me. so hit me. i'll take you seriously."

i'll take you seriously.

a safe space.

and they're simple words, because maybe you're not used to expressing yourself—

but he knows that.

he's used to it.

and he'll push you, a little, and you trust him to.

he knows that, too.

to be loved is to be seen.

and caleb knows a lot of things—what gets you angry, what gets you sad... the things you do to distract yourself, the things you like to eat. what makes you happy. when you're happy. your favorite show, your favorite song... that one article of clothing you'd always wear if you could, that book you keep on your shelf because the cover looks nice, but you haven't gotten around to reading it yet.

and he knows when you're tired.

he knows when all you need is for him to be there beside you, he knows when you've got something to say but you don't know how to say it.

he knows when you're pretending, too. when you want someone to breakthrough that little shell of yours, and say the words you want desperately to hear...

he knows.

because he sees you.

he sees you more than anyone else has, more than anyone else does. and not just with his eyes—with his heart. he knows you. he's engraved every little thing about you into the depths of his soul and he wouldn't have it any other way, not when he can hold you like this.

not when he knows how to.

not when he knows you want it to be this way.

and it's why he has his fingers running gently through your hair, peppering soft, tiny little kisses all over your face and relishing in the giggles that fall from your lips...

to be loved is to be seen.

"i love you, pipsqueak."

a soft murmur, a kiss into your hair.

"i love you a whole lot."

he knows you needed to hear that today, too.

and he means it.

because maybe there's no one else who could love you the way that he does; so whole, so loving, so pure, so... real.

you know that, too.

to be loved is to be seen.

and he sees you, and you see him.

to you, there's no greater love than that.

an : you know, real talk......... i really am truly sorry that the nuance of the caleb/mc relationship can't be translated into more western cultures that aren't used to this, i do believe it's kind of a shame 😭 because you have to understand that it's such a beautiful thing to be seen.... and i really feel that caleb encapsulates that especially given the nature of their relationship :( just. there's something so beautiful and comforting and warm about it and i had to get this out of my system before i go to bed 😭 MERRY CHRISTMAS EVE 😭

taglist : @darlingdummycassandra @milkandstarlight @thoupenguinman @valyvinny @rafayelsheart @jellyroom2 @chemiru @ywnzn @pepprrmint @angel-jupiter @cordidy @raiyuxa @xai-mery @radiantbrilliance @pikachuzhc @interstellar-inn @pixelcafe-network @hunters-association ++ also obligatorily tagging @unluckywisher (love u)

© rose-tinted-kalopsia. all rights reserved. do not: steal, copy, repost, reupload, modify, or claim any of my works as your own, regardless of credit given. absolutely do not use my works for AI training and other related purposes.

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1425fivefive · 2 days ago

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Ruined orgasm + norstappen

my favorite kink with my current favorite pairing 🥹 i love you darling anon (from this kink prompt ask)

“Please, Max,” Lando whines, thighs shaking next to Max’s ears, fingers digging into the fabric of the couch. “Need to come.”

Max wants to roll his eyes despite the cock in his mouth. He knows Lando’s desperate to come because Lando hasn’t been able to shut up about it. Lando always gets like this when Max doesn’t get him off, whiny and pouty, moping around the flat like he’s being tortured. Always grumbling about how sore his balls are, how he can’t sleep when he’s hard, how he hates waking up with his underwear all sticky.

Max thinks the problem is he spoils Lando too much. Makes Lando think that if he just begs enough, Max will give in. The thing is, Max does, usually. He likes watching Lando come too much—the way Lando’s mouth drops open in a perfect little o, how his eyes go all wide and wet, how he always comes so much, all over his taut stomach. Max loves licking it off him, dragging his tongue over Lando’s skin while Lando shakes under him, letting out breathy whines when Max gets too close to his cock.

The real problem, Max thinks, is that his desires are mutually opposed—he wants to watch Lando come but he doesn’t want to reward him for all his whining, which an orgasm, inherently, does.

But Max got an idea a few months ago while Lando was showing him some porn clip he liked, a man getting tied up and edged until, right at the last minute, the dom takes his hands away, forcing the sub to spill all over himself without anything touching him, awful and unsatisfying.

“You’d like that?” Max asked, eyes glued to the screen.

Lando shifted next to him tucking one socked foot over the other. “Dunno, if ‘like’ is the right word, mate.”

“But you’d let me do that to you?” Max asked, finally glancing over at Lando.

Lando’s cheeks were flushed and he was chewing on his lip but he nodded, once.

Max hasn’t really thought about it since, too distracted by the season, too busy to really think about all the ways he wanted to torture Lando. But it’s winter break and now they have nothing but time.

Max pulls off Lando’s cock, letting his hand take over. Lando shivers at the change of stimulation, twitching in Max’s hold, squirming against the sofa cushions. Max loves Lando like this, desperate and strung out, almost unbearably sensitive to every touch. If everything goes to plan, Max can keep him this way for a few days longer.

“Tell me when you’re close,” Max says.

Lando whimpers, blinking down at Max with wet eyes. He already looks close to tears. Good, Max thinks. He sort of wants to make him cry.

“You’ll let me come, yeah?” Lando asks, lip quivering like he expects Max to say no.

“Yeah, I’ll let you come,” Max says. It’s not a lie, technically.

“Fuck, thank you,” Lando whines, fucking up into Max’s fist, relief clear in his voice.

Max has to hide his smile by sinking back down on Lando’s cock, sucking Lando exactly the way Lando likes, the way that Max knows will have Lando on the edge in minutes.

Sure enough, after a minute, Lando’s eyes are squeezed tight and he grits out, “M’close.”

Max pulls off, still stroking Lando with his hand. “Then come.”

Lando’s mouth drops open in that perfect little o, eyes flying open. Max feels Lando’s cock kick in his hand and Max gives one more stroke before pulling his hand away, watching in awe as Lando starts to spill over his stomach, his neglected cock pulsing and twitching, spurting come all over his tan skin.

“Max,” Lando cries out, staring down at his cock with a devastated expression. “Fuck, Max, please, I don’t—” He breaks off on a sob, hands flying up to cover his face as his cock keeps spilling.

"M'not coming," Lando says, voice muffled by his hands as he lets out another shuddering sob. "M'not." But his cock pulses another wave of come even as he says it, and Max knows it must feel like nothing. Knows it must feel awful to want it so bad and have it not even feel good.

The thought has Max achingly hard, and he has to bring a hand down to touch himself as he watches Lando come.

As Lando’s orgasm starts to peter out, Max reaches his free hand up to tug Lando’s hands away from his face, revealing Lando's tear-stained cheeks, his eyes and face a splotchy red.

Lando gives him a miserable look and lets out a heartbroken little, “Max.”

“What do you say after you come?” Max asks. He knows he’s being a dick but, however much Lando complains about it, he knows Lando likes when he’s a dick. That Lando wouldn’t be here if he didn’t.

“Fuck you,” Lando snivels, bringing a hand up to scrub away a tear.

Max barks out a laugh, hand speeding up on his cock. “If you want me to let you come anytime in the next month,” Max says, “you’ll be polite.”

“I didn’t even come,” Lando says, letting out another sob.

Max brings a hand to Lando’s stomach, dragging two fingers through the mess and holding it up to Lando’s lips. “You did, baby. Look how much you came.”

Lando whimpers but he lets Max push his fingers into his mouth, sucks his own come off them. When Max pulls his fingers free, Lando whispers, “Thank you.”

“Fuck,” Max groans, pushing to his feet, planning to add to the mess on Lando’s stomach.

Lando makes an anguished noise at the sight. “Don’t you fucking dare, Max, don’t make me watch you fucking come.”

Max comes.

#kink prompts #norstappen #drabble

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nagis-wife · 3 days ago

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𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉𝑒𝓇: Nagi Seishiro 𝒲𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉: 1.6k 𝒞𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓈: fem!reader, fluff, comedy, pet names used, cuddles turned into a snowball fight. 𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈: none

𝒜𝓊𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓇𝓈 𝓃𝑜𝓉𝑒: I have fallen deep and I don't feel like pulling myself out of it. I hope you enjoy it. I haven't written in a while, so if its bad forgive me pls :x

It was freezing.

Curled up in bed as you turned your gaze to the window, white flakes fell from the sky and covered the ground in a blanket of snow. It really did feel like no matter how many layers you put on or how high you turned the heat up you simply couldn't get warm. Seishiro was at his desk, headset over his ears playing his game. The sound of fingers tapping against the keyboard and mouse clicks filled the room with his huffs when he died which you just giggled at as you played on your phone waiting for his little gaming session to be over.

A warning flashed across the top of your screen with a travel warning due to the snow storm. High winds possible as you grumbled about being cold again as you sat up removing yourself from the warm cocoon you had made for yourself. Barefeet pressing against the cold wooden floors as you walked over to Seishiro leaning over the back of his chair, arms wrapping around his shoulders peeking over as you uncovered one of his ears.

“Sei, you gunna come cuddle me soon or am I gunna die from hypothermia?” You spoke amusement in your tone as your eyes met with his grey ones. His brow rising at you, a small smile curling at the corners of his lips as he paused the game and switched the screen off.

“My little dramatic baby come, you're lucky that I love you, ya know” Seishiro mused as he pushed from his chair moving it under the desk as he towered over your frame leaning down to grab the backs of your thighs as he lifts you up pressing a kiss against your lips.

“Yeah, I think I’m pretty lucky, actually I think you're the lucky one for putting up with your gaming addiction” You teased as his brows raised again at your antics, a dramatic gasp leaving his lips as he looked at you with faux annoyance.

“Hateful and hurtful” Seishiro pouts as he walks over to the bed plopping you back down against the mattress. His arms coming to wrap around your torso pulling you against his frame as he huffed. “Ya know, your words, wound me angel they wound me” Nagi spoke, his words as dramatic, as he nuzzled against your warm frame, his nose cold against your exposed skin. You laughed lightly at his dramatics and pressed a kiss against his forehead in return. “You know what wounds me Seishiro? When you leave me all alone in bed, and refuse to turn the heat up, and then I start shivering and shaking from how cold it is” You mused once more as he rolled his eyes at your antics. “Look, the heat isn't even on Sei, not all of us have all the muscle mass to keep us heated” A pout took over your features as he scoffed at you.

“Well my poor baby, why don't we get you warmed up then hm? Seems like we are having big feelings because we didn't have a nap today and a bit cold” His tone seemingly condescending as you kicked him. Nagi grumbled as he nearly fell out of the bed as he blinked at you a few times. “Okay that's it” He huffed, strong arms coming to yank you from the bed, screams of protest laced with laughter filled the air. Clinging onto him, you knew exactly what was going to happen.

Heavy footsteps echoed the apartment, holding you in his arms as he opened the door to the wintery elements outside. Nagi made his way down the stairs, the crisp cold air filling your lungs making it harder to breathe as your protests continued all the way down.

“Sei! Please no! I'm sorry I beg for forgiveness!! Uncle! Uncle!!” You plead as he hummed pretending to think as he looked at you with a smug expression before tossing you into the large pile of snow. A screech ripped from your throat as the cold snow consumed you. Standing up as you gripped the front of his hoodie yanking him down into the snow with you. Shoving snow down his hoodie as you huffed.

“Hey! That's not fair!” He barked out as his chest began to rumble with laughter, sitting on your knees as you threw a snowball at him watching it crumble against his chest. “Fair is fair when you're thrown into the snow. Now I’m freezing and can't feel my hands or my feet Seishiro.” You went to stand as he tugged you back down wrapping his strong arms around you, an icy hand coming to the back of your head as he pressed a long kiss against your lips. Melting into it as you returned it in kind. Although the heartfelt moment came to a holting stop feeling snow being poured down your back.

“Seishiro Nagi..” Your voice low as you looked at him, an amused expression on his lips as he looked at you “yes? My darling angel, love of my life?” He spoke, voice dripping with adoration. “You better sleep with one eye open.” You threatened, although, when you threaten people it should have some bite to it, not a dopey smile with love twinkling in your eyes. “Yeah yeah come on you little fake criminal, let's get you inside before you turn into a snowman or something” Nagi stood, nearly slipping on the frozen ground under his feet. A laugh pulled from your chest as you stood up with him shaking your head. “I think hot cocoa and a movie might be on the table for the rest of the night.” You suggested as he only nodded in agreement.

The two of you walked back inside, his gaze on the thermostat as he finally switched it over to heat, the smell of something burning filling his nose as it scrunched up. “See I have a reason to not turn it on” Nagi mumbled, earning a glare from you, “Well maybe if you used it more, then it wouldn't smell like burnt hair Seishiro.” You grumbled as you stomped to his bedroom discarding the now wet clothes and putting on one of his hoodies and some leggings with some fluffy socks.

Making your way around the apartment, plugging in the blow dryer to dry your hair and his when he finally joined you in the bathroom. He had changed as well and sat on the toilet. “Look at you, how did I get lucky.. Hm?” You rolled your eyes at him with a small smile on your lips. “I don't know, maybe it was your persistent need to tell me to get online to play matches with you because I was your lucky charm or something.”

“We both know you aren't as good as I am baby” he said, making you switch the setting on the blow dryer to cold, earning a whine from him.

“Heyyyy turn it back to warm” Nagis voice drawed out, shivered from the cold running down his spine, cold that was already swimming through his body and now from the blow dryer was not the combination he desired. Hands seeking more warmth as he slid them up your thighs to under the hoodie where he hummed feeling your warm skin against his finger tips.

“Take it back, you wouldn't have won half of those games without your beloved healer” You grumbled as you switched the setting once more back to high heat running your fingers through his messy hair getting it to dry out. Hissing as his icy fingers slid against your back a shiver rippled through your body. “Seishiro..” you warned, however he did not move his hands from your body

Nagi sighed as his hands slid back down and rested against your thighs rubbing them through the fabric. “Yeah yeah, I guess you're right. But you wouldn't have made it out of half of those matches without me” Nagi said, which earned him yet another eye roll. “Yeah yeah whatever you say” you sighed as you felt around his hair making sure there was no wet spots left.

With both of your hair now dry, there was still a pressing matter, now the both of you were freezing due to his actions. Grabbing his hand and leading the both of you to the bedroom. You grabbed the remote for the tv and turned on some movie to have in the background as you crawled into the bed and clicked on the heating blanket. A staple for you as it was needed in this household. Nagi followed in after, crawling in next to you, resuming the comfortable position you both were in before he had yanked you outside.

“See how much nicer it is when you aren't mean to me.” you said with a giggle in your voice, pulling him closer as he rested his head on your chest. Curling your fingers in his hair, as he just hummed in response. Nagis fingers dug into the fabric of your (his) sweater as he pulled you impossibly closer. It wasn't before long that his eyes grew tired and his soft snores filled more of the space. Your eyes were trained on the tv for a bit, drawing circles and absent minded patterns before you had fallen asleep as well.

The snow was still falling, freezing temperatures trying to penetrate the safe haven you both called home. But yet the two of you stayed warm in each others arms with playful banter and sweet hot cocoa. Just the way you liked it.

the Nagi brainrot has infested me and im okay with that.

Tags: @pixelcafe-network @hayatoseyepatch @eevees-hobbies

#nagi seishiro #nagi x reader #seishiro nagi x reader #nagi seishiro x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk x you #nagi fluff #bllk fluff #blue lock #bllk #bluelock x reader #bllk x reader fluff #bluelock #bluelock nagi #blue lock nagi seishiro #blue lock x you #blue lock x y/n

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