#and i was like.....i have been crying on and off and feeling sick to my stomach the last two days....i didn't actually say that ofc

[it-was-summer]

... And Fall In Love Whenever You Can.

A/N: This fic genuinely had me tearing up as I wrote it. Therefore, it shall hold a sweet place in my heart. As a kid, I used to say, "If something makes you feel, then it is good." I still believe that today. If it makes you happy, sad, flustered, ANYTHING! To feel something while reading is such a beautiful reaction to media. I often cry at movies, I cry when I read romance novels, I cry when I read poetry, and I laugh when I do, too. I hope you enjoy it, and I hope you feel something, Em <3 (I also apologize for vanishing; I got sick, and it made me feel brain fog)

Link to the Ao3: ... And Fall In Love Whenever You Can Link to the: Yee olde masterlist Tags: Grief support group, mention of death(s), loss of romantic partners, struggling with mental health, tears, the rise and fall that is nonlinear healing, fear of forgetting a loved one, falling in love after tragedy, Spencer sounds like he had therapy, Maeve mentioned, guns mentioned, she/her pronouns for reader used at like one point, Reader's POV for the most part, Reader is in extreme denial and feels guilty, a secret other thing??, lightly proofread tehe!

Genre: Light Angst, Some? Hurt/Comfort, Fluff! Pairing: Season10! Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Plot: Meeting Spencer at a grief support meeting might be the best and the worst thing to ever happen to you- but it's all relative in the eyes of love.

Word Count: 9,791

You were pacing a dimly lit parking lot outside of the funeral home. It had been eleven months, two weeks, and three days since Alexander’s death. The grief meetings occurred every third Wednesday, and everyone was lovely enough. You just couldn’t find it in yourself to go inside this particular Wednesday. Because it was on this date, two years ago, Alexander had gotten on one knee at the aquarium and asked you to marry him. It was two years ago that you had said yes, not knowing that a little over a year from then, he’d be dead. 

Your feet kept making strides to the double door entryway, only to slow to a stop when your hands reached the door’s push handle. Then, you’d shake your head and turn around to circle the parking lot once more. With your luck, the meeting would be over before you even got the courage to go inside. 

A groan escapes your throat as you firmly put your hands on your hips, tilting your head to the Summer sky. “I’m sorry,” Your voice is raw, barely a whisper as you struggle to keep yourself from crying. You knew everyone said not to keep it in, to express your grief freely. It minimized stress. At least, that’s what the grief counselors say. 

The worst part was no longer knowing who you were apologizing to— yourself or Alexander. 

You were walking around one of the parking lot’s street lamps when you saw someone standing at the doors, frozen in place. It was like watching a mirror of yourself—rigid shoulders, twitching hands, shaking head. 

You approach the man slowly, your image warped in the reflection of the glass doors. He turns to face you before you can speak, and he looks like you did eleven months ago. His eyes have dark circles around them, tinted with a red water-line and dull cheeks. That doesn’t stop you from gracing him with a gentle smile, “Are you going inside?” 

His eyes meet yours for a second, looking away to glance back at the doors. “I’m not sure.” His voice is quiet, scared. He sounds like he is still on the fence. You nod, drawing your lips into a tiny line as you drop your hands to your sides. “Are you?” He asks, stepping out of the way for you. 

You feel your mouth open to say you are going inside, but the words never come. Instead, you shake your head side-to-side timidly. “I’m not sure either,” You laugh out feebly. He nods, a dull smile gracing his delicate features for a millisecond before looking off with a forlorn expression. 

“I was thinking about walking around the parking lot again… to try to gain the confidence to go inside. You’re,” you pause, wondering if it's a good idea to offer the man an invitation, “You’re welcome to join me if you’d like.” 

The man looks at you again, his eyes widening for a second. You’re sure he’s about to decline, return to his car, and drive away, but he nods. You feel yourself smiling. It’s a little subdued, but it’s real. You mouth a silent ‘okay’ as you move your hands to your pant pockets, stepping away from the doors with this mourning stranger. You figured you didn’t have to talk if he didn’t want to, so everything was quiet as the two of you slowly walked around the large parking lot. 

Eventually, your quiet stranger speaks, “Thank you,” 

You shrug a little, sniffling, “It’s daunting, especially the first meeting.” 

He frowns a little, watching your eyes flit over to him and then back to the night sky. “That obvious?” 

“Only a little, but that’s not a bad thing.” Your voice is gentle as your feet slow to a stop, a light smile appearing on your face as you stare into the night. Spencer tilts his head to look at the stars, silently hoping that what makes you smile will make him smile, too. “Do you see her yet?” You ask, voice like honey. 

He feels like crying as he says, “No,” He doesn’t even know who you’re looking at. 

Your right hand is coming out of your coat pocket as you point to Cassiopeia slowly, tracing the stars with your index finger. “Cassiopeia, she’s a little low right now, but in a few months, she’ll get higher. You see her?”

And Spencer does. He feels his body relax, just for a moment. “I do.” He feels himself smiling a little at the sky, and the feeling feels almost foreign. His gaze falls back to you as you stuff your right-hand pack into your pocket, “I’m– I didn’t introduce myself earlier. I’m Spencer.” 

“That’s alright; I didn’t introduce myself either,” you sigh before you tell him your name. He nods at your response and follows you once your feet start moving again. 

“Have you—” He motions to the funeral home in the distance, “ever been inside?” 

“Oh, yeah. I’m a funeral home grief support group regular.” You joke lightly, though the soft chuckle you let out sounds like a sad one. 

He nods, nervously adjusting the beige cardigan on his chest. “Is everyone—I mean—” He draws his lips closed as he tries to gather his thoughts. “Do you like it?” 

Your feet slow for a second as you think about it. Sure, everyone was friendly, and the support was more helpful than harmful. But did you like it? You give him a little nod when you answer, “Yeah, it’s been nice. Less,” You tilt your head slowly like you’re choosing your words carefully. “Less Lonely.” 

Spencer lets out a relieved-sounding sigh as he mutters a gentle “Right.” 

“I just,” You swallow carefully, “I’m having a hard time going in today. My fiancé proposed two years ago today. I just— I mean everyone inside knows, I just,” You trail off for a second, sniffling lightly as a cool breeze brushes against your watering eyes. “It doesn’t matter.” 

Spencer didn’t know what to say to that. With Maeve, he had barely met her in person before she was murdered in front of him— the future pulled out from under him. Nowadays, he spends his time rereading books, remembering conversations on the phone, and mourning her silently in his apartment. Sometimes, he didn’t know which would be worse: losing her when he did or ten years down the line. Nonetheless, there is no Maeve to help him answer that question. 

He struggles to find the words for a second before he nods, slow and unsure of himself, “It matters.” 

You grin at how scared he sounds, the sound of a man holding on to the memory of a face that keeps fading away in his mind. “I know,” you can feel the ghost of the engagement ring on your left hand, a ring that now lies in a coffin. 

As the two of you get close to the building once more, you ask, “Are you going to go in?” 

Spencer swallows hard, the knot in his throat making it difficult for him to breathe. “Maybe next meeting,” 

You nod, “Me too.” You stare at your car in the distance before you feel yourself standing in the parking lot with Spencer— unmoving. “I know it’s not a lot, and I know that I can’t help that much, but,” You pull your phone out of your pocket, opening the keypad cautiously before holding it out to him. “If you ever want to talk about it, or anything really, I’d be happy to talk with you.” 

Normally, Spencer would decline such a kind gesture. He would thank you, drive home, and find solace in something familiar. His fingers twitch lightly as he reaches out for your phone, staring down at the keypad for a second before he puts in his number. He doesn’t know why he wants to talk with you. He thinks it’s because talking with a stranger about Maeve seemed less daunting than talking about it with his coworkers— his friends. You barely know him, and that makes your offer seem safe. No preconceived notions, pity, or gentle promises of being there for him, just a stranger talking to another stranger. 

Two weeks go by like usual— no text from your stranger named Spencer, coffee for one at the café that was Alexander’s favorite, taking his mom to dinner on Thursdays, and so on. Sometimes, the days blur into a muddled painting filled with muted tones, and you try your hardest to remember when everything had a vibrant hue.

Most days are easy, easier than most, at least. It’s not that you forget about him. You remember him when you see a couple holding hands or golden retrievers going for walks, you think about him with everything you see, and it feels good to remember him. You’re happy to have known him so well, loved him so deeply. But all the love inside you has nowhere to go, so you go to his grave on Saturdays, hoping you can pour all the love in your heart onto a tombstone with his name on it. It never works, of course, but it helps. 

You're running late this particular Saturday morning. You have two coffees in hand—one of which always goes untouched—and you’re stuck on the metro. That’s when you see him again, your stranger sitting in the fluorescents of the railcar. 

Pushing through a small crowd, you approach him, slowly taking the empty seat next to him. Spencer doesn’t look up at first, his eyes glued to the book in his hands. That is until you’re leaning over to him to say a small “Hello,” 

He jumps at the sound, head snapping to look at you with wide eyes. He doesn’t know why he’s so surprised you remember him, but he is. “Hello,” 

Your eyes meet his, “Do you remember me? I-I’m sorry I shouldn’t have invaded–”

“No! I mean, yes, I remember you. You’re not invading my space. You’re fine.” 

You let out a relieved sigh, looking away from him for a second to look down at the cups in your hands. His eyes follow your gaze, and he offers you a shy smile, “Are you meeting someone?” Small talk was never his strong suit. 

You look at him, eyes lingering on his polite smile. “Oh,” you laugh like it's funny. “No, it's just me.” Spencer gives you a confused look, and you quickly answer his silent question. “I visit Alex’s grave. He loved black coffee. It was the most unsettling thing about him.” 

Spencer doesn’t know how you’re smiling so wide as you say it. How could you talk about someone you lost and smile so wide talking about them? Would he smile like that one day? Would he even have things to smile about, or would what-ifs haunt him until the day he dies?

You find that you hate the silence that follows, the lack of sound creeping over your skin, making you itch to say something more. “I’ve always liked cemeteries too, so bonus, I guess.” 

That gets you a sharp laugh, “You’ve always liked cemeteries?” Spencer’s eyes seem slightly brighter now, less red than two weeks ago, and they’re laser-focused on you. 

You happily nod, “Always thought they were beautiful. It’s a creation of love, a way for your love for someone to live on.”

“Not sure everyone thinks about them that way,” 

“Well, I guess they wouldn’t, and that’s alright with me.” You hum softly as the intercom announces in a static-filled voice that the railcar will be moving soon. “It’s quieter that way.”

Spencer glances towards the intercom for a second before turning back to you, “I suppose you’re right— about the quiet thing, not sure I agree with always liking them.” And he’s smiling at you, a real smile. 

You feel yourself smiling back, wide as ever, “What’s your opinion on cemeteries then?” 

“I’d like to say I don’t have an opinion on them, but if I had to form one, I would say they’re…” He trails off for a second, thinking about it more now. He laughs for a second, “Well, I suppose I find them rather serene.” 

Your eyebrows raise for a second as you study him. How he seems to be relaxing in the conversation, and you can’t help but consider extending him an invitation to your weekly visit with Alexander. The longer you stare at him, the more you think the worst he can say is no, so you ask. “Would you like to join me?” 

Spencer reels back slightly at the invitation; it feels intimate, yet he doesn’t want to say no. He wants to see what you see, to understand your mind, “I–” He looks away for a second, staring at the still-opened book in his lap. “If you’ll have me.” 

Once you are on the street, you hum lightly while walking beside him. Spencer doesn’t seem to mind very much, his fingers fiddling with the edges of his book that now resides closed in his hand at his side. He’s nervous for some reason. He doesn’t understand why you invited him, nor why he said yes. He thinks maybe he should announce that he has other plans, turn on his heel, and book it in the other direction. 

But when the two of you tread closer to the cemetery gates, you start talking again. “I hope you don’t find it strange that I invited you. It’s been a little under a year– well, a year next week– and I know it might seem weird, but I’d like to think he’s happy about me having a new friend.” 

He knows it is a coping mechanism, and he knows Alexander cannot feel anything anymore. Spencer’s a man of science, but hearing you say that makes him feel at ease. His shoulders unwind slowly, “He sounded like a nice person,” 

You let out a playful hum, “Sometimes. If he didn’t like you, he made it pretty obvious.” You pause for a second, glancing over at Spencer. “He was tall, kind of like you, and nerdy. But he was so funny; no one knew how funny he could be. They never listened hard enough, you know? I hated that people would talk over him in a crowd. To me, he was the only person worth listening to.” 

Spencer finds him smiling at that, following you as you take a left. He sees that you're smiling, too, and when the two of you get to his grave, you’re still smiling. You let out a happy sigh as you talk, introducing Spencer as “Your new friend.”

For a while, you tell him stories—memories from when Alexander was still alive—and he finds he doesn’t mind listening to them. He sees them as a great distraction from his lack of happy stories with Maeve. You’re laughing a little as you tell him of the time that Alexander’s mother wouldn’t stop sending him a massive, bulk-sized trail mix every time she sent him a care package in college. He had so many bags that they lived under his bed for the better part of four years. 

“Did he even like trail mix?” 

“Honestly? Yes, but he only liked the chocolate and peanuts. It would just be massive bags with an abundance of raisins inside.” You shake your head a little as you stand next to Spencer. 

Spencer lets out a slightly amused hum. His mind keeps going over how good you are with everything. You talk about Alexander openly. You don’t hold your feelings back. You smile so wide, even when you look at his headstone. He wants to know your secret— some secret to grief that he has yet to uncover.

His mouth opens briefly, closing quickly as he shifts his weight awkwardly beside you. He sucks in a nervous breath as he tries to muster up the courage to speak. “How do–” He sighs heavily, “I mean, I’m sure you struggle–” He licks his lips nervously, your eyes meeting his slowly. “When does it stop hurting?” 

You’re silent for a second, your soft smile fading as you stare at him. He’s scared that maybe that’s the wrong question to ask as he watches you turn your head to look down at Alexander’s grave. He is about to apologize when you whisper, “It feels different now.” 

Spencer’s mouth snaps shut as he waits for more, his eyes scanning your side profile slowly for some sort of sign that you’re uncomfortable. “Last year, it just felt like–” A pause, your free hand rising to your chest slowly. “It felt like someone had plunged a dull knife into my chest and left me for dead.” 

Spencer’s chest tightened for a second, his own heart feeling painfully dull as he listened to you. 

“But, I’m not the one who died. Alex did. I was so angry— disappointed that he had the nerve to leave me when we were about to start the next chapter of our lives together. I had–have– all this love inside my heart for him, and he’s gone. It took me a long time to understand that, to be okay with it.”

Your words catch in your throat, and you clear your throat quickly. The familiar burn of tears threatens to build in your eyes as you force yourself to look at Alexander’s grave. “He was so kind, and once I got past that feeling,” your voice sounded thick. “Life kept going, and so did I. He wouldn’t have wanted me to stop living my life. When you love someone, you only want them to be happy– with or without you.” 

You sniffle lightly, relaxing your shoulders slightly, “It never stops hurting, I guess, but days get better. I’m happy that I got to be a part of his life. I find some comfort in that. Somewhere, in the story of him, I’m there.” Eventually, you find the courage to look over at Spencer. When your eyes meet his, you find that he’s staring at you with a compassionate expression. You can see the understanding in his eyes. You swallow hard, pushing the emotional lump down your throat. 

“It does get better.” You whisper, your voice warm. 

Spencer nods quickly, mouthing a little ‘I know’ before his eyes trail away from you for a second. A cool breeze passes between the two of you when he says, “Just needed the reminder,” 

The next time you see him, it’s the third Wednesday of the month, and he sits right next to you. You find yourself smiling a little when he does, nudging his shoulder playfully as more people fill the space. He scoffs playfully, the silent gesture letting you know he’s happy you’re here. 

The meeting passes like usual: New members share their stories, grief counselors hand out business cards with their phone numbers, recurring members offer kind sentiments, and then, just near the end, your seat partner stands up. 

Your eyes widen for a second as you watch Spencer stand, his eyes laser-focused ahead as people turn to look at him. You watch how his Adam’s apple bobs when he swallows. A shaky breath leaves him as he tries his hardest to start talking. His hands flex for a second, pressing against his pants to wipe off what you can only assume is sweat. 

He stutters for a second, his confidence creeping away from him. You’re surprised when he turns his head to look at you. His breathing steadies as he watches you. “I’ve been having difficulties sleeping again. After,” His hands move a little as he speaks, his eyes periodically looking towards the rest of the group before trailing back over to you, “I just– I used to have a hard time sleeping, and lately, it’s been happening again. Every time I sleep, I see her, and I feel so–” He used to dream of her after her death, dreamt of touching her, but these were different. Dreams that constantly left him waking up feeling devastatingly alone. 

He shakes his head a little, “It’s been seven months, and I keep dreaming of everything that could have been.”  

The confession is met with comfortable silence and sympathetic looks, but not from you. You’re nodding, an encouraging smile spreading across your face. For some reason, he likes that better. “I don’t like leaving her when I wake up.” The admission feels like a weight lifting off his chest when he says it. 

There’s a pause of silence before he sits down, unsure of what else to say besides his admission. As one of the counselors begins to talk to Spencer, he finds himself listening intensely. Seven months, and he’s finally willing to take some much-needed advice. 

After that month’s meeting, Spencer has back-to-back cases. He’s keen on keeping in contact with you, which you’ve said he doesn’t have to do if he doesn’t want to, but he insists. He likes having someone to update, a friend waiting to see him when he’s free. 

The next time he’s free, it’s a rare Saturday. He’s been awake since five and can’t seem to go back to sleep. He does keep dreaming of Maeve, but they’re a little different now. This time, he was in a cemetery with you. It was freezing, the kind of cold where you could see your breath, and you were laughing about something when the two of you bumped into her. Maeve’s not angry. She just laughs and glances at Spencer before hugging you. You hug her right back and say something– and that’s when he wakes up. 

Spencer doesn’t like the feelings that stir inside him with that dream: confusion, curiosity, sadness, something else. The feeling is warm, tinged with an overcoat of sorrow, and he finds himself needing a good distraction. 

However, reading isn’t helping, nor is the crossword. So eventually, he finds himself getting ready to go out for the day in the search of a good distraction that will get his mind off his dream.

He doesn’t know why he thinks about the cemetery where Alex’s grave is on his way to get coffee that day, but he does. A part of him feels that a nice walk will do him good, so, coffee in hand, he finds himself walking… then taking the subway… then ending up in front of Alex’s grave… alone. 

Spencer’s lips slightly pout when he sees no coffee cup on the headstone. He knows that you have yet to visit your late fiancé today. He doesn’t exactly know why he’s visiting your late fiancé today; without you, it feels… strange. 

The longer Spencer stares at the letters etched in stone, the more he feels a realization dawn on him. He feels guilty… guilty for dreaming of you, guilty for craving your warmth right now, and guilty for a million different little reasons. 

Spencer feels his lips part for a second, a sigh escaping his lungs, before he whispers, “I’m a mess. " He knows he’s talking to thin air, but he feels lighter, admitting it to himself. 

“I don’t know what I’m feeling. All I know is that I shouldn’t be, and it won’t do anyone any good, and secretly I think–” He sucks in a cold breath of air, “Secretly, I think I don’t deserve it.” The grave is silent, of course, but Spencer smiles anyway. 

For a while, he thought his future had passed him by. A brief image graced his vision before leaving him blind. He can see now. He sees that he still has things to do, goals to accomplish, people to meet. Then he’s walking away. 

Two meetings and four coffee ‘dates’ later, you’re rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet as you watch Spencer laugh over something with one of the grief counselors. It’s a strange feeling to see him laugh so openly. It's heartwarming if you’re being honest. It’s hard to explain it, and the feeling is too intense– too raw. It’s a feeling you dimly remember, and suddenly, you’re nauseous. 

You have a crush, which is incredibly laughable because you’re an adult. The last time you had a crush on someone was three years ago, Alexander. This almost feels cruel. The longer you stare at him, the more real it becomes. 

Spencer catches your eye for a second and excuses himself from the conversation in his polite Spencer way. When he reaches you, he smiles warmly: “Somebody’s all smiles.” You hum with a playful roll of your eyes. 

Spencer pouts for a second, good-natured and playful, as he mutters a little, “When did smiling become a crime?” 

“It isn’t. I’m just being observant, and you have a nice smile.” You try to keep your voice calm and level, but he seems to catch on anyway. Spencer’s eyes seem laser-focused on you, studying you carefully. Internally, you’re beginning to pray that his profiling skills fail to notice the classic signs: your sweaty palms, wandering gaze, and too-tense shoulders. 

And if he does notice… you hope he doesn’t say anything. That’s not Spencer’s way, and you know it. “Everything okay?”  

You nod quickly, “I’m good, sorry, I was just thinking about… bills.” You know he catches the lie the second you say it; you can see it in his amused smile. 

“Bills?” 

“Bills.” 

“I’m not sure I like this story you’re going with, but if you’re sticking to it, I won’t pry.” 

You nod, letting your shoulders relax as you sling your bag over your shoulder. “Thank you,” 

“I was thinking,” Spencer starts as he grabs his messenger bag, following you out. “We could get dinner together Friday night.” 

“Why?” Your tone is a little flatter than you’d like it to be as Spencer walks you to your car. You'll admit the idea of being alone with him is nice, but the admission feels strange— still too raw, surreal. 

“Because…” He trails off slowly, hoping to find a better reason than it being because he wants to have dinner with you, but the longer he sits with the ideas, the more he feels like you’ll turn down his idea. He feels self-preservation take over, and for the first time (and what he hopes is the only time), he lies to you. “My teammates are having a get-together.” 

“Oh!” You say as the two of you reach your car. “And you want me to meet them or?” The idea seems less daunting. Yes, Spencer and you had been to get coffee together, but that was just coffee. Dinner seemed too intimate, but dinner with friends? Now, that was less scary. 

“Yeah! Yes, I think it’d be nice!’ Spencer’s voice cracks slightly before nervously clearing his throat in a weak attempt to control the anxiety that creeps into his tone. “Would you… like to meet them?” 

You’re leaning against your car door, and the air smells sharp with the promise of snow, and Spencer’s sure you’ll decline. You grin, nodding slightly, “Sure, I mean, it’s just dinner with friends. What time Friday?” Your arms fold over your chest, pulling your coat closer to your body.

“Six.” He doesn’t know how his fake dinner has a time, but he’s surprised at how easy it is to come up with one. “Nothing fancy. I’ll, um, text you the address.” 

You watch him for a second, trying to read him the way he reads you. His voice seems higher in pitch, and his eyes keep glancing at yours. You chalk it up to him being nervous. The combination of two groups already frying his nerves before it even happens. “Can’t wait. See you Friday.” 

Spencer stuffs his freezing hands in his pockets as he watches you enter your car and drive off. Then, the panic sets in. 

He’s tailing Derek desperately, “Listen, I know it’s rushed, but–” 

“I don’t see why you can’t just text her the address and ask her out. Straightforward.” Derek says as he takes the left towards Penelope’s office. “Or you could say we canceled and make it just the two of you.” 

“Considering I already lied to her once, I’d rather not lie twice. And–” He fumbles with his words for a short second. “It’s not a date. I just thought she thought it was one, and I panicked.” 

“What’s wrong with it being a date?” Derek asks, knocking on the door gently before entering Penelope’s office. 

“Date?” Penelope echoes back as she turns in her chair. 

Spencer holds out a hand defensively, “It wouldn’t— it’s complicated! Please say yes. You’re the first person I’ve asked.” 

“Asked what? Am I going to be asked?” Penelope chirps as Derek hands her a coffee. 

“Pretty boy here,” Derek motioned to Spencer with a light wave, “Lied to one of his ladies. Invited her to a team dinner that doesn’t exist.”

“A team dinner would be fun! With a new addition, too!” Penelope said with a sip of her coffee. “When?” 

“Friday,” Spencer mumbles, avoiding her gaze. 

“Friday, as in, tomorrow Friday?” She sucks in a breath of air, “Spencer…” 

He frowns and mouths a little, ‘I know’. He looks at them, pleading, “Please, even if it’s just the two of you…” He trails off slowly, watching Penelope and Derek share a look. 

“I’ll text the rest of the group.” 

“Not the whole story,” Spencer adds as Penelope pulls out her phone. “Please.”

“I’m already doing you one favor, boy genius.” 

Spencer is surprised at how many of his team members agree to dinner. JJ, Penelope, and Derek all promise to bring their respective partners. Rossi and Hotch politely decline, but given his sudden plans, he doesn’t blame them. 

However, by the time five-thirty rolls around, he can see that he’s been played. The first text comes from JJ, claiming that Henry is sick and that she can’t make it. Derek follows, saying that he accidentally double-booked and cannot cancel his reservation with Savannah. He can feel himself sending a silent prayer to Penelope before she, too, is texting him to cancel. 

So now, he stands outside the restaurant in a long brown trench coat and purple scarf tied tight around his neck. When you arrive, adorned with a cream sweater and rosy cheeks, you ask him the inevitable: “Where’s the team?” 

Spencer's throat tightens as he answers, “They’ve canceled, so it’ll be just us if that’s alright with you?” 

He can see your smile falter momentarily before you nod, “That’s fine, another time.” You shiver a little, glancing towards the restaurant. “Should we…?” Spencer, silently elated that you aren’t leaving, nods and hurriedly rushes over to open the door for you. 

Once seated, you are greeted by a slightly uncomfortable awkward silence. You’re sure that it will soon resolve itself, but Spencer seems too lost in his thoughts, and it becomes clear that if you want this long silence to end, you’ll have to speak first.

“I’m sorry every–”

“Do you–” 

The two of you stare at each other briefly before laughing softly. Spencer’s eyes crinkle a little when he’s laughing, a feature you seem to be adoring silently before he says, “I’m sorry that everyone canceled.”

You push out a little breath, your gaze falling to the menu on the table. “That’s okay, I’m sure everyone has busy lives.” You shrug a bit before glancing up at him, “I do have a question for you, though,” You watch as Spencer’s back straightens, and he gives you a small smile as the ‘go ahead.’ 

You flatten out the front of your sweater nervously, “Do you think it’s weird that I was supposed to meet your friends— the team?” 

Spencer gives you a slightly confused look before you quickly add, “I don’t think it is, but I was talking to my coworker about tonight, and she said it seemed like an excuse for a date. Then I explained it, and she called it weird, and I don’t know—Do you think it’s weird?” 

Spencer can feel his cheeks heating up against his will, and his head shakes from side to side, “No! No, it’s not weird.” he pauses, thinking about it for a second. “Well, maybe a little. But not for you, for me. You’ve never expressed an intense interest in meeting them, but they mentioned bringing someone, and I thought—” He motions to you with a shaky hand, “Thought you’d be a good person to bring to dinner. You’re lovely, and my friend, and I—”  he feels the rest of his words die in his throat. He wants to tell you that he wants the team to meet you. He wants everyone to see how wonderful and kind you are. 

He feels his mouth dry, realizing he wants you to meet the team now. He wants a third party to witness your calming effect on him, and, most importantly, he wants them to like you because he likes you. 

A slow ringing grows in his ears at the full realization of his feelings for you. Your smile, usually calming, has his heart leaping in his chest. He finds himself leaning closer when you say, “I didn’t think it was weird either,” 

Spencer lets out a little huff of relief, “Good, that’s good.” His heart was beating fast in his chest. He knew he had feelings for you but was unaware of how deep they ran. 

“Though I will say, it is strange that they all canceled.” 

He feels awful lying to you. He can count two lies now and doesn’t want to tell a third. “Yeah, I can’t explain that one. They all did it at the last minute. I’m sorry.” 

“I don’t mind, though I was scared this was all a set-up for a date.” You laugh as if it’s the silliest idea you’ve heard. 

Spencer can feel his heart in his throat, his breathing quickening slightly. “Would it be bad if it was?” he can’t stop the words from spilling out, his eyes widening at his sentence.

Your surprised face stares back at his, breathless as you look at him. You’re about to say something when the waitress comes by to take your order. You manage a slight, polite smile as you order before you’re staring off at Spencer. His nervous eyes flicker between the waitress and you as he orders quickly. 

When she’s gone, you stare at each other with bated breath. You draw in a slow, calming breath when you say, “I don’t know,” 

“You don’t… know?” 

“I just, I haven’t thought about—” You pause, knowing it’s a lie. “I have—” You correct gently before you let out a frustrated sigh. “I thought we were friends.” Your voice cracks slightly. 

Spencer draws his head back at that, “We are friends. We are. I didn't know if you ever thought about—” He doesn’t know what he’s saying. What is he aiming for here?  

“Anyone dating you would be lucky, Spencer.” You say, sweet and gentle. You don’t know how to save this situation. Your love for Alexander will always be in your heart, strong and genuine, but… looking at the man across from you. 

You watch his fingers nervously trace patterns on the glass of water in front of him, how he’s looking at you with such a sweet expression. You just didn’t think this would happen to you. You were sure that Alex was it. He was all you would ever know— you had resigned yourself to it. 

Would you be a bad person if you fell in love again? After everything, it feels… selfish, dirty, wrong, terrifying. “I’m not sure I’m your best option.”  Is what you settle on. 

Your heart silently breaks as you watch Spencer’s face fall. His nervous fingers slow their movements until he whispers a sad, “Right.” There’s a pause, like he’s deciding what to do next. He then nods, like he’s coming to terms with something. 

“Right, I’m not saying I’m looking–” His brown eyes scan your face, “I’m not even sure I want something like that. I don’t know why it sounded like I was. I just want you to know that I—” He swallows thickly, “I like being your friend.” 

“Me too! I like being your friend, too.” 

“Good!”

“Great!”

His smile doesn’t reach his eyes, “So we’re on the same page?”

“Same chapter and everything.” 

Spencer lets out a huff of a laugh at that, nodding slowly. 

The rest of the dinner seems normal; the interaction from earlier seems to be brushed under the rug, and you’re grateful it is. However, the topic kept worming its way into your train of thought. The nagging thought of ‘What if…’. 

It's not a terribly horrible idea to date Spencer. If you were honest with yourself, you had thought about it before—not obsessively, just in passing. A little whisper of an idea, lovely and new. It was nice to fantasize about love, but it was just a fantasy. You had a great love, and you were grateful. 

Wanting more than that was greedy. 

After dinner, Spencer insisted on walking you home. He wouldn’t listen to a single one of your protests and simply convinced you with a firm, “I’ve seen what happens to people when they go off alone late at night,” 

The reminder made you readily accept his company on the cold December night. Walking by his side, watching how your feet started to sync in step, your mind began to wander. What did a date even feel like? It had been so long since you’ve had a date… you weren’t even sure you would know if you were on one unless it was explicitly said. 

The thought makes you chuckle, earning the interest of one Doctor Spencer Reid. “What’s on your giggling mind?” 

“Nothing,” You sigh, glancing over at him. “I was just thinking about how long it's been since I’ve been on a date. I don’t even think I would know if I was on a date if I was on one. Someone would have to sit me down and explain it to me,” 

Spencer’s lips quirk upwards at the idea, listening to you. The sweet look he’s giving you is not lost on you as you continue to ramble, “I mean, I’m not even sure I remember the last time I tried to look for a date.” 

“Care to take a guess?” 

“Uhm,” You draw out the sound as you think, your tongue wetting your lips. “Six months ago, maybe, kind of, sort of?” 

Spencer’s clever mind quickly realizes that this failed dating experience happened a month before he met you, and then he notes that it also happened ten months after Alexander’s death. “And.. What do you mean by that? How does someone, kind of, sort of, maybe look for a date?” 

You roll your eyes, “It wasn’t really my idea. My friends convinced me to go on some dating apps, and I tried!” You laugh lightly, “Well. I pretended to try. I just didn’t like it. It wasn’t what I expected.” 

“What were you expecting?” 

Your feet falter momentarily before finding their pace next to Spencer again, “Something from a Nora Ephron movie, maybe? Something like You’ve got Mail.” As you say it, you see the strange look on Spencer’s face, and it makes you grin. “It’s a romantic comedy.” 

He mouths a soft ‘oh’ and feels awkward because he still doesn’t know what you mean. You’re quick to explain, “It just means I had high expectations. Alexander and I were friends for a while before we,” You trail off before you wave the sentence off with your hand. “I just didn’t like it. Felt too forced.” 

Spencer understands that part, slowly taking a left with you. “Haven’t tried that yet.” 

“I wouldn’t recommend it.” 

He grins and nods, “What do you recommend?” His curious mind was getting the better of him. His left hand slipped out of his coat as he waited for your answer, his knuckles dangerously close to yours. 

“In a world seemingly becoming increasingly dependent on technology for everything? I’d recommend shooting your shot with every pretty stranger you see.” It's a joke, but the idea of Spencer asking for the numbers of every pretty person in DC made your chest feel strangely tight— a light reminder that your crush was still going strong. And you’ve already turned him down.

“I’m not sure you’ve been paying close attention to me these past four months,” He jokes lightly. 

“Oh, trust me, I have been.” The words tumble out before you can stop yourself, and you can feel your cheeks growing impossibly hot. 

Spencer’s quick to tease, “You have been?” 

You nod, trying to act like it's nothing but friendly, but your nervous breathing might give you away. You take a steady breath, happy to think that if he sees red on your cheeks, you can blame it on the cold weather. 

Instead, he slows to a stop just steps away from your apartment complex. You stop, turning to look at him, and when you see him, all composure leaves you with one little glance. Spencer’s ears are red, his hazel eyes glued to yours, and his hands nervously fidget with his long purple scarf. 

He draws in his lower lip nervously, his brow furrowing in the way that lets you know he’s meditating on something in that beautiful brain of his. His hands move as he begins to talk, “I have been too,” 

With that, you feel all the air knocked out of you, and your trembling fingers hide in your pockets. You’re not sure what he wants you to say or do. It feels like a confession, making your heart pound in your chest. His sweet eyes study you, “I’m not sure what I—” He steps closer. 

“Not sure what I want. All I know is that I feel something—” He makes a weird motion with his hands like he’s trying to shape his feelings with his hands. “Hopeful? I don’t know! I just,” 

“I know.” You rasp out, nodding quickly. “I know.” You repeat it because you do know. You know what he’s feeling, that dangerous feeling of tentative hope, the sense that something is beginning again. The world shifting into focus and becoming colorful again. 

Spencer’s gaze softens as that, and then the two of you just stare at each other for a moment. Guilt seemed to creep into your chest, invading your heart the longer you stared into those pleading brown eyes. Some part of you wanted to give it a shot, take him in your arms, and just let go. The stubborn part of you couldn’t let go of what you once knew. 

What would you say to your friends— or worse, Alexander’s family? Thinking about being happy with someone else again felt like a betrayal. 

Spencer could see the shift in your demeanor, the way your eyes glossed over with emotion, your back rigid, and he knew you weren’t ready. The feelings you were feeling were ones he wrestled with weeks ago after visiting Alexander’s grave. “I visited his grave without you a few times.”

 Your brows knit together at that, stuttering gently as you manage a soft “Why?” 

“I felt guilty about how I feel about you. I thought visiting his grave would make me back down, but it didn’t. I visited Maeve’s grave and thought about my feelings there too. She would have liked you.” 

“Spencer, don’t–”

“You told me once that he would’ve wanted you to be happy with or without him. Why can’t you let yourself be happy? I know it’s uncharted territory; it is for me, too, and he knows you don’t love him any less–” 

“You didn’t even know him!” 

Spencer's lips draw into a tight line at that. You can’t stop yourself before saying, “You don’t understand the love I had for him. It was different from how you felt about Maeve. It was special.” 

Your breathing is heavy, and you're trying to stop yourself from crying. The second you say it, you regret it. Your rigid posture slacks, and you step towards him quickly, but he steps back once you get closer. 

“You don’t get to say that,” his voice is colder, his eyes cast down to his hands. Then he takes a sharp breath and looks up at you; his warm hazel gaze turns cold. “My love for her was just as special as yours was for Alexander. I can see that, even if you can’t. But at least I can see when something exceptional is right in front of me. Unlike you, I didn’t want it to slip through my fingers again.” 

Your mouth feels dry as you try to respond, anger and guilt fighting an internal war inside you before Spencer turns on his heel and says, “Goodnight,” 

The snow starts again as you watch him walk away, blinking flakes out of your lashes, cheeks red from the tears falling as you watch him disappear around the corner. 

The conversation is still fresh in your mind at dinner with Alexander’s mom Tuesday night. She lives just outside the city in Maryland, so whenever she made her way into the city, you made it a point to meet up. 

She watches the way you’re staring at your sandwich. The intense look you’re giving the meal almost makes her laugh. “Don’t be upset with the club. We can always get you another sandwich, dear.” 

You raise your head slightly at that and let out a nervous laugh, “No, the sandwich is fine. I’m just thinking. I’m sorry, Shannon.”

Shannon lets out an understanding hum, waving you off with a simple flick of her wrist as you apologize. “Is it work?” 

You give her an easy smile, “Ah, no. It’s… confusing and probably boring; don’t worry about it.” She gives you a little look that says, ‘Come on, really?’ and it makes your smile widen. 

“When you retire, everything is confusing and boring, so lay it on me.” 

“Shannon, please, I promise you don—” 

“I will make you pay for this meal; do not force my hand.” 

“I am paying?” 

“Exactly. Now tell me what’s on your mind.” 

You slump in your seat and nod in defeat. “Alright, well,” you wet your lips nervously, trying to figure out the best way to tell her. “You remember last time I mentioned that I had that friend from the group? The genius—Spencer.” 

Shannon nods, motioning for you to keep going slowly, “Well, lately, he and I have become aware of some feelings for each other, and I–” You can feel your legs trembling, “He just doesn’t get it. I can’t do that to Alex or you. He just doesn’t understand—” 

“Sweetheart, slow down.” She held up a hand, an amused look on her face as you rambled at the speed of light. “Start over.” 

You let out a little huff, trying to calm your growing nerves. You roll your shoulders back, gaining some composure, “I have feelings for him, and I thought it was just a passing crush, but now it’s getting so messy. And he told me that he has feelings for me too, but I told him off, and we haven’t talked in four days– which would be fine if we didn’t fight, but we did— and I don’t know.” 

“You don’t know?” 

“He’s really sweet and great, but I just… I keep thinking about my love for Alex and don’t want to let go of him.” Your voice gets quiet with the admission. “I’m happy loving just him, only him.” Your voice shakes lightly, forcing your gaze down, your eyes filling with tears. 

You hated telling her this— hated telling her that your stupid heart found itself attached to someone other than her son. You mentally prepare yourself for something, anything, yet you still cringe when you feel her hand rest on yours. 

“He’s dead–”

“I know–”

“No, listen,” Shannon says sternly, watching as you lift your gaze to meet hers. “He’s dead. Every day, I have to remind myself he’s dead. I know you do, too.” She frowns for a second before she gives you a weak smile. “But, you? You’re alive. You’ve experienced a loss no one should have to experience at your age, and yet here you are. Would he be ecstatic over you falling in love with someone else? Not quite, but I know my son. He wouldn’t want you to be alone. Or worse, unhappy.” 

You blink away tears, your bottom lip trembling, “I don’t want to forget him,” 

“Who said you’re going to?” Shannon jokes lightly, giving your hand a light squeeze. After a moment, she whispers, “Knowing Alex, he probably sent Spencer your way.” 

You laugh at the idea, but the sound dissolves into a little sob, “He would.” 

Shannon brightens momentarily, “He was always jealous of how good you were at trivia night. Maybe he wanted someone to beat you for once?” 

“Spencer can!” You laugh harder than you should, but you can’t help it. You picture Alex’s face, joking about how you have too much useless knowledge in your brain. 

As your laughter dies away, a wave of anxiety rolls over you. “I was awful to him last Friday.” 

“Then make it up to him,” 

After much deliberation, you knew you would, or at least, you would die trying. The next meeting was in two weeks, which seemed too far out. After three texts, two calls, and one voicemail, you decided to go to him. 

You had been to Spencer’s apartment once before and were sure it was on this block… maybe. It was early Saturday morning, and you could only hope he would look out his window and see you pacing the sidewalk. 

But an hour passed, and the cold wind forced you into a coffee shop down the block. Shivering as you waited for your coffee, you glanced at the unread texts you sent him one last time before stuffing your phone back into your pocket. 

Clearly, he didn’t want to see you, much less talk to you. You chewed on your bottom lip, lost in thought until you resolved that seeing him at the next meeting would have to do if he didn’t text you back before then. 

And so, two weeks and no texts back later, you sat in your usual foldable seat and waited. But he never showed. Your eyes watched the doors patiently, and you counted every last participant, thinking that the next one had to be Spencer. 

But they weren’t. He was nowhere to be found. You had sat on your feelings for him for weeks, sat on with nasty comments and behavior for two weeks, and found yourself still waiting. He didn’t have to attend every meeting, but you felt even more desperate than before. Hating the feeling, you left halfway through.

It wasn’t like you could force him to talk to or forgive you. But it hurt knowing just how much you had hurt him. Were you being selfish for wanting a chance to confess to him again? Was it selfish how you looked for him in every crowd? 

The unfortunate reality of your pain was that you were so scared of falling in love again that you pushed love away before it could even touch you. You found yourself driving to Alex’s grave that night. It was out of your way, but you didn’t want to go home just to wait by the phone again. 

After parking in a nearby parking lot, you found yourself standing in the middle of a very dark, isolated cemetery. If Spencer were here, he would say how dangerous this was, maybe even throw in a statistic just to solidify his point. 

You smile, eyes adjusting in the moonlight as you look down at your dead lover’s grave. You crouch, touching a bouquet of almost-dead flowers at the foot of his grave. “Was I bad at this with you, too?” Your fingers trace the brittle petals of a dying rose. 

You can hear the crunching of gravel and slush approaching you, and a part of you freezes. As the sound gets closer, you can hear panting, your head turning cautiously to look for your rapidly approaching company. 

When you see the silhouette of a man not too far down the trail, you tense. How stupid were you to be in a secluded area in the middle of the night? You curse under your breath and stay crouched, hoping it’s just a late-night jogger passing through and that he won’t see you if you stay low. 

Your eyes stay on the figure, and you mentally go over possible escape plans when you see it— a messenger bag. What kind of serial killer or jogger wears a messenger bag? Your tense shoulders briefly relax for a second at the thought. 

Then, a hint of moonlight illuminates your huffing stranger— messy brown hair and a crooked tie. You stand, “Spencer?” You say his name when he approaches you, the moonlight letting you get a glimpse of his soft eyes for a moment. “What are you… How’d you know I’d be here? What are you doing here?” 

“You weren’t at the meeting,” He huffs, leaning over to rest his palms on his knees. 

“I–” You scoff, slightly amused. “I left early. Did you show up?” 

“No,” he admits, his tone becoming sharper as he catches his breath. “No, I–” he hesitates for a moment, “I saw your car on my way home, and I got worried, and I–” He roughly drags a hand through his curls, “You shouldn’t be in isolated places like this late at night.” 

Your shocked expression melts, and your lips quirk into a slight smile. Spencer sees this and responds sharply, “I’m being serious!”

You hold up both hands, “I know, I—” You sigh, a slight chuckle following the sound before you say, “I knew you were going to say that. I could hear your voice when I parked across the street.” 

“Maybe you should listen to it sometime,” 

You nod, and then a moment of cold silence follows. The two of you stare at each other for a long moment before you feel your lips moving against your will, “You never called,” 

Spencer can feel his heartbeat quicken, “Wasn’t aware I had to.” 

“You didn’t have to. I just would have–” You cut yourself off, nervously licking your lips. “I wanted you to.” 

Spencer stays quiet before he replies with a soft “I’m sorry,” 

You find your smile returning as you shake your head, “That’s my line,” 

He lets a little chuckle at that, ready to tell you it’s okay, when you quickly add, “I’m sorry for how I acted three weeks ago. I shouldn’t have been so cruel or close-minded, and I should have been honest with you about my feelings. I’m sorry I pushed you away. I’m sorry for implying your love for Maeve wasn’t special. Oh, Spencer,” You let out a heartbroken sigh, “I feel terrible. I was such a bad friend, and these past few weeks, all I’ve wanted to do is make it up to you.” 

You can feel the tears threatening to fill your vision, your cheeks burning in the cold as you let out a meek, “Tell me there’s something I can do to make it up to you,” 

Spencer can see your pleading eyes in the moonlight, and his chest tightens at the sight. Ignoring your calls and texts wasn’t easy, but he was convinced that it was the right thing to do. You weren’t ready to move on, and neither was he— not completely, but he didn’t want to try with anyone else. He only wanted to try with you. 

He swallows thickly when he says a sweet “You’ve already done it,” Then you’re beaming at him, and he’s right back where he was three weeks ago. As you dry your misting eyes, he softly confesses, “I watched You’ve Got Mail.” He pauses, smiling lightly when you give him a surprised look through your tears. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you, so I–” He nervously moved his hands as he talked, “I watched any Romcom that I could get my hands on because I—” 

You smile as he trails off, his hands twisting together in that nervous way that tells you he’s scared to say the rest of his sentence— he’s too afraid to say he missed you. “Me too,” You confess, “I missed you, too.”

He nods, a grin on his face as he looks at you. He can feel his confession rising in his throat, his lips moving awkwardly as he tries to gain the confidence to confess to you again. 

But, before he can say anything, you’re speaking, “I don’t know if you still feel the same as you did three weeks ago, but I–” You swallow hard, clearing your throat softly. Your hands move with you as you speak, the cold making them feel slightly stiff. “For the longest time, I couldn’t imagine myself happy with anyone other than Alex.” You blow out a sigh, glancing back at his tombstone. “I thought one great love was enough— I only deserved one. I was happy with that, and I felt lucky for it.” 

You can feel yourself trembling, and you don’t know if it’s the cold or your nerves getting the better of you; nonetheless, you keep going, “But lately, I’ve been thinking— hoping really— that you’re the expectation.” You squeeze your eyes tight at that last bit, trying to calm your breathing as you wait for his response. 

“If anyone deserves more than one great love, it’s you.” Spencer’s voice sounds closer, soft. 

When you open your eyes, you realize he is closer, inches from you. You gaze up at him, giving him a light smile when he whispers, “We can take it slower,” 

“I like slower.” 

He laughs and nods, “Me too,” he holds out a cold hand for you to take, “Let me walk you to your car?” 

You stare at his palm, watching your cold fingers intertwine with his. The sensation makes the tips of your fingers buzz with anticipation. You feel his hand gives yours a slight squeeze before guiding you to the parking lot across the street. 

It’s not the last time you walk side-by-side, holding hands in the middle of the cold East Coast winter, and he’s determined to make sure it’s not your last. 

And whenever anyone asks how the two of you met, Spencer lets you tell the story, his hand slipping into yours as you say, “Well, it’s a bit of a long story.”

[rensukepie]

all i want for christmas is…

oliver aiku x reader

all you wanna come back to after a bad day is your loving boyfriend aiku.

contains : smut, p in v, breeding kink, spit, cunnilingus, very lovey dovey aiku, romantic aiku, kissing (a lot of it…), established relationship, touchy aiku, reader is sad and aiku comforts her :3

a/n : this was inspired by @aikuposer ‘s post!

minors dni

it was always him.

he’s the first person, and the only person you see when you come back from a shitty work day, the person you go over the grocery list with, the person who sees you cry, he’s the person you love. no matter the situation, it would always be him.

so when you come home from work during the christmas shopping season with puffy eyes and tears all over your cheeks, he’s worried sick!

….

“I-i didn’t mean to make her upset… she wasn’t clear about what she wanted…” you say in between sniffles with your voice cracking because of the heavy lump caught up in your throat.

“oh sweet girl… it’s okay, don’t cry… im here for you, that lady’s so stupid for that! she should’ve been more clear about what she was trying to get for her kid...” he’s wiping away your tears with his thumb, pulling you into a long hug.

“k-kiss me aiku… please… i missed you…”

and he does. his soft lifts against yours, his hands roaming your hips.

“gonna make you feel better, yeah? you’ll let me? hate to see my girl all sad…”

….

he kisses you a little bit more on your lips again before moving more down to kiss the other areas of your body, his hands intertwined with yours.

he finds your inner thigh, kissing it some more before undressing you, you clothed cunt on display for him.

normally, he’d start teasing you for the damp spot in the middle, but today was special, filled with love for you, words of reassurance aimed at you.

he kisses your clothed cunt one last time before taking your panties off, spitting on your soaked pussy before licking your clit with his skilled tongue.

“a..aiku! you’re so messy… fffuck!”

“sorry.. can’t help myself around you… you’re too pretty…”

….

“mmf—! a…aiku…faster….please…”

he picks up the pace just a little, but enough to have you whimpering a little louder, hands playing with his hair softly.

“you taste so good, my pretty… so beautiful..”

“g-gonna cum soon… mm.. aiku…”

“cum on my tongue for me baby… don’t gotta ask… just let go..”

….

he kisses you again, tasting yourself on your tongue before he undresses himself.

aiku rubs his cock back and fourth on your wet cunt to lube it up before entering inside of you, making you let out a couple of whimpers and moans all for him.

“mm…! aiku….”

he takes your whimper as a sign and finally puts his cock inside of your tight pussy, a deep groan leaving his mouth at the feeling.

“your pussy was made for my cock.. fuck—…”

….

he continues to thrust himself into you with your legs wrapped around his waist reaching to his muscular back. he can feel himself getting closer to the edge along with you.

“gonna fill your pussy with all my cum… you want that, hm?”

“mhm… want your cum aiku…. pleaseeee…” you say desperately, nibbling on his neck.

he takes his thumb and uses it to rub your sensitive clit, making you clench around his cock.

“shit—! gonna cum in you, doll… ohh fuckk—“

you cum right after him again and he pulls out, his cum dripping out of you.

“I love you, aiku…thank you for making me feel better…”

“I love you too baby, but we should shower… we look like a mess..”

….

he prepares a nice warm bath for the both of you with your favorite body wash and shampoo. who knows, maybe he’ll fill you with his cum nice and deep inside of you again?

…

[crimsoncandy04]

omg love ur writing in the scaramouche tag and was wondering if i could place a request because i thought of scaramouche with a stubborn reader who refuses to submit to him so he punishes her via fucking machine until shes broken down and begging for him... its just some brainworms of mine

*scuttles out from underneath your bed and gently tucks my response underneath your pillow before returning to my nest*

Marry Christmas ya filthy animals lmao

(Hehe. I've been excited to write this)

(Bondage Scaramouche!)

You sigh softly as the gentle hum of the large vibrators fill your ears. Your wrists are handcuffed to a wall behind you on either side of your head. a locked metal chastity belt prevented the painfully enormous insertions from slipping out of your ass and cunt. This had been HIS sick way of punishing you for spitting in his face yesterday when he originally had tried to kiss you.

Scaramouche.

The fucking Balladeer.

You hated that self absorbed and condescending humanoid bastard but unfortunately for you, he had grown attracted to you.

He had wanted you.

And he had gotten you.

It was as simple as that. Or was it?

"Enjoying yourself?" A cold voice suddenly sneered from somewhere in front of you. You knew even through the blindfold that it was him. As if you could ever get off from something as disgusting and evil as what this sociopathic harbinger had done to you. Grabbing you. Pinning you to the ground beneath him as he had attempted to press his lips to yours.

He was lucky you didn't bite his tongue off instead of just spitting at him.

"Fuck you!" You hiss through your teeth. Your body is still trembling from the unwanted orgasms you were experiencing. You could hear the keys to your belt jingling from somewhere on him.

"Is that right now sweetheart? Finally come to your senses?" He reached out and ran a gloved hand across your cheek.

"Absolutely not you disgusting bastard! You know what I meant!"

A silence follows as you feel him pull away from you.

Then you feel a sharp sting in your neck.

"Ah! What the hell are you doing!? Stop!"

"You can't say I haven't been nice. I thought you would have seen reason by now but it appears your stubborn attitude will need correction first." He whispers in your ear. His cool breath sending shivers down your spine.

"This should make you a little more agreeable you ungrateful little cockroach."

You start to feel hot suddenly. You want to scream as you hear him still kneeling in front of you. Yet as you hear the click of a button being pressed and the vibrators deep in your holes start to move faster than before, you can't do anything but gasp suddenly and try in vain to close your knees and ignore the way your body quickly begins to tingle.

"I hate you! I won't... Ngh~" you have to bite your lip to keep from moaning. Whatever Scaramouche had injected you with was causing you to lose your composure fast. And also...become unbelievably overwhelmed with lust.

"Does it feel good? You like the way my toys are fucking that tight little cunt of yours?" He purrs as you feel him spread your knees apart and move to kneel between them. Scaramouche reaches out and pinches one of your nipples. Tugging on the sensitive peak ever so slightly as you squirm and writhe.

"You know, if you stop acting like such a pain in the ass, I could make it all better. Make the uncomfortable feeling in your body go away. Make you want me." You feel him lean in. His lips graze yours as he whispers.

"Why don't we try that kiss again hmm? This time, if you know what's good for you, you won't pull any more foolish stunts."

Before you can respond in any way, Scaramouche's lips are on yours. He moves his free hand to play with your hair as he continues to fondle your breast with the other. After a few seconds he shoves his tongue into your mouth and for a moment you almost falter. You want nothing more than to moan and cry and scream for this man to touch you. To fuck you. But as you suddenly jerk your head away and curse him under your breath, you come back to your right mind and immediately feel violated and enraged over what this lowly bastard is trying to do.

"No! How dare you! Don't touch me!"

You hear him get back to his feet. Feel his sharp and sadistic gaze on you as you are forced to cum again thanks to the toys buried in you still.

"You don't want me to lay my hands on you?" Scaramouche asks in a sinister tone. He chuckles softly.

"Well then, have it your way dear."

You try to kick as you feel him suddenly move close to you again and prick your neck a second time. But he's too fast and far too strong for any normal human to be able to apprehend on their own. And as you feel the new medicine quickly coarse through your veins and cause you to feel drowsy, you swear you hear Scaramouche laughing again and the sound of keys jingling.

You open your eyes sometime later and feel your wrists and head aching. You lift your head as best as you can in your semi-conscious state and realize that you're just dangling from the ceiling with your feet about a foot from the tatami floor beneath you. Your wrists are bound together by a red rope that is attached to a thick wooden rafter high above you. And to make things possibly even more humiliating, one of the ropes was tied carefully through your long hair and was tethered to something in your ass that caused your scalp and asshole to ache every time you tried to move your head or lower body. It was all so uncomfortable and yet you couldn't even adjust yourself without feeling your wrists burn or your hair getting yanked.

"you're finally awake. I was hoping you hadn't gone and died on me before we even got to the best part yet."

Scaramouche strode over to where you were hanging and reached out to feel your wetness. His long slender fingers easily slid into your sopping cunt and began to move. Wiggling around inside and teasing you before he abruptly removes them entirely. Leaving you irritated and slightly disappointed that he had left your aching sex empty again despite how aroused you still were from the earlier injection.

Scaramouche brings his fingers to his lips and grins mischievously as he licks them clean, commenting on how nice you taste as he watches a light blush form on your face.

"What an interesting expression. You want me to play with your cute little pussy more? Too bad. Don't blame me though. I'm simply giving you what you wanted. You don't want me to touch you. Remember?"

You felt burning hot anger suddenly rise within you. He wanted this.

That vile bastard wanted you to beg for him and plead for him to fuck you.

Archons, was he so grossly full of himself.

You grit your teeth and force yourself to glare at Scaramouche as you now struggle to fight the intense and overwhelming feeling of lust that plagued every inch of your hot feeling and quivering form.

"You won't break me you sick fucker!"

Scaramouche raises an eyebrow at your words.

"You think so huh? Well, let's just see."

He moves fast. Too fast.

One second he was standing in front of you and then you blinked and now he was behind you. You heard something big being placed just behind you. Mere inches from your throbbing sex as you hear Scaramouche comment about how he's going to enjoy watching you lose yourself after this and before you can figure out what he's planning, suddenly the sound of a machine buzzing to life fills your ears. Seconds after a thick dildo suddenly forces itself deep into your pussy and begins thrusting. Slowly at first, but after a few seconds it gets faster. You feel the silicone tip pound against your cervix. The thickness fills every inch of you and stretches your pussy to its limit. Making you shudder and finally...moan.

It was accidentally. You immediately regretted it.

But Scaramouche had heard it.

"Oh? Enjoying this are you? You seem to like my toys a lot huh?" You feel him rub his hand across your ass cheek and then squeeze a little.

"What if I were to remove this hook and fill your fat ass with something particularly large instead? Like the one in your cunt. Would you moan? Cry? Beg for more? Or would you continue with this annoying attitude of yours and let me ruin your perfect little holes in the process?"

Scaramouche suddenly slaps your ass hard. Making you whimper a little as you try to close your eyes and regain control. But as you try, suddenly another painful slap stops you.

He continues to spank you several more times before pausing and caressing your sore cheeks with his hands again. After that he began again. Your ass hurt, your pussy clenched and fluttered around the dildo as it thrust in and out of your oversensitive cunt, as the sensation of both pain and pleasure overwhelmed your senses, suddenly you gasp and let out a small whine as you feel yourself squirt.

Scaramouche laughs a little as he finally moves from behind you after that. Staring at you with a smug expression as you go limp while still being fucked by the machine behind you.

"That was quick. Clearly someone enjoyed themselves." He places his hands on either side of your face. The gesture is oddly gentle.

"Just relax. Stop fighting me. I don't want to punish you. It gets boring after a while. But if you continue to defy me, I won't hesitate to remind you of your place." One of his thumbs rubs a tear from your cheek that you weren't even aware had fallen.

"If you give in now, I can make you feel better than any mortal ever could. Don't you want that little bug? Humans like feeling good. Doesn't this all feel uncomfortable? Humiliating? I can make it stop if you just quit resisting." His touch was softer. But Scaramouche had no affection behind those indigo eyes of his as he gazed at you intensely.

You just gave him a look of reluctance as another small moan was forced out of you.

"Looks like you still need some convincing." He lets go of your face and suddenly reaches into the small pouch near his waist to retrieve a small remote. He smirks as he pushes a button and suddenly makes the dildo in your pussy begin to vibrate. He then increases the intensity. Your legs begin to shake as you finally stop trying to stay quiet.

It's too much.

"Fuck! It's hitting so deep! Scaramouche... I can't!" You try to wiggle your hips a little but the hook in your ass suddenly yanks on your hair again and you struggle to remain still.

You just...need more. You need to cum. You can't take this anymore.

Scaramouche unties his belt as he watches the machine continue to ravage you. It drops to the floor and after that you watch as he tugs down his shorts a little and reaches for his cock. He starts jerking off to the sight of you and even presses another button on the remote with his free hand that makes the dildo piston in and out faster.

"If it's too much. Just ask for me instead. Give in. And I'll make it stop." He leans in and kisses you again as he gets off to you. Swallowing your moans and sounds of pleasure as you feel yourself cum again. Finally as you feel another overwhelming wave of pleasure and swear the room sways a little around you as scara backs away, you finally give up.

"Scaramouche please fuck me. I can't stand this anymore! I want...i want your cock in me."

"Are you sure? You don't sound like you do. Maybe if you convince me I'll oblige."

Gods no.

He was making you beg.

You lowered your gaze as you felt your pride wither.

"Please Scaramouche, I don't want this fake cock in me. I want your dick. Please fuck me. Please...i need your big cock in my pussy!"

You don't even realize you're cut free from your binds after you finish pleading until you feel yourself hit the floor.

And feel Scaramouche grabbing your ass from behind.

"Who am I to deny such a needy girl? If you insist then I'll fuck you stupid you pitiful little worm."

He roughly shoves himself into your throbbing core to the hilt. Digging his nails into your hips before fucking hard into you. His movements are quick too. Scarily quick.

You feel yourself turn to jelly in his hold as he slams into your g spot and makes you squeal. You cry out as you feel yourself climax violently and yet he doesn't stop.

You don't want him too either.

"Scaramouche you feel amazing!" You gasp as you feel him reach for a tit and squeeze. His finger teasing the nipple.

"I know sweetheart. Just keep taking it. You feel so tight. Just like I knew you would." He groans before leaning down and wrapping his arms around your middle. Fucking you fast enough to make you scream as you feel yourself squirt again on his thick shaft.

"Fuck I'm gonna keep you. This cunt of yours is perfect." You hear the sound of electro before you feel it as Scaramouche suddenly tightens his hold on you and ejaculates.

A powerful jolt is sent deep into your womb and makes you climax again instantly. You feel a small lingering tingle in your belly and as Scaramouche releases you, you turn over slightly and notice that a strange mark has formed on your lower abdomen. It glows to life as Scaramouche rubs his cock against your slit and after that you feel yourself get excited again despite being beyond exhausted.

You hear him hum a little as he slowly slips into you once more.

"Don't worry about that my little insect. This just shows that you're mine and prevents you from enjoying anyone else. It has some special properties that will affect you but nothing unpleasant."

He begins to thrust again.

"After this, all I need is to knock you up. Shouldn't be too hard now that I gave you that. Then you'll be by my side forever. My pretty little toy~"

You can only feel pleasure as Scaramouche begins to use your pussy again. Deep in the back of your mind there's a small nagging feeling that this is wrong. But how could it be when everything about it just felt so right?

[hannamoon143]

Die with a Smile

Nobody‘s promised tomorrow

So imma love you every night like it‘s the last night

Cause i wanna hold you just for a while, and die with a smile

༘⋆ ❅ ･:*:｡ ❆

Words: 5,2k

Genre: angst, fluff, comfort(…?), christmas

Hyunjin x fem. Reader

Warnings: Cancer!!!! So sickness, food, crying, sickingly sweet fluff, fears, , all i want for christmas by mariah carey (yes that needs a warning),death,non-sexual nudity (they r just bathing), cinnamon (sorry but- warning needed),

A/n: hi! I had so much fun writing this, and it‘s also for the StayblrHolidayEvent . I hope yall enjoy this also since it‘s my first christmas fic. Also as u can see it’s a bit inspired from die with a smile (bruno mars & lady gaga). Basically It’s just those lines i wrote over there kinda inspired me how to write the emotions and thoughts and stuff. So now, take ur hot chocolate, a fuzzy blanket and read! Merry christmas and happy holidays to yall🎄💕✨

You were laying down next to hyunjin, watching the other guys in front of you, while he was sketching most probably them or the decorated livingroom, or just the whole scene in front of him. Felix, Chan and Minho had come over, and now they were laughing as they decorated your tree, the rest of the livingroom, and singing christmas songs. The christmas joy had definitely taken over them, also if you couldn‘t really feel anything of it.„Don‘t you wanna get up and help them?“ Hyunjin mumbled quietly to you, not looking up from his sketch. He did that so often lately. He sketched simple scenes or things he saw, shutting almost everything else out. As if he wanted to remember everything to the smallest detail. „No, i‘m good here with you.“ You responded, laying your head on his shoulder. He sighed quietly, and kept drawing in silence for a while, the only noise was the guys bantering and christmas songs playing in the background. Then he spoke up again, quietly. „Y/nnie, you don‘t have to always sit around me and baby me alright? Don‘t think i don‘t know why you are doing this, and don‘t think i didn‘t hear you crying in the bathroom. I‘m well aware of the situation, but why can‘t we just make the best out of it? I feel like all this is getting to you more than to me, when it‘s literally me who is going to die.“ You froze at his words.

Last christmas, hyunjin had been diagnosed with cancer, and the worst was it was a type that could never be healed. They had told you that he had about one more year to live. That time you broke down entirely, and already there it was you who seemed to be more affected than him. But over a bit time you started acting normal again, not constantly being around him and doing everything for him. But now the year was coming to an end, and christmas was standing on the frontdoor. With that everything came back. You suddenly were all over him, not once leaving his side, and everytime he wanted to get up or something you pressed him down and did whatever he wanted to do for him.

The worst was you could feel it. Somewhere inside you had always hoped that the doctors were just wrong and hyunjin wouldn’t die in the next sixty years. But you saw that they were right. The way he slowly began to always eat a bit less than before, the way the circles under his eyes got darker, and his cheekbones more visible. You hated it. You didn’t hate him of course, you could never, but you hated this stupid cancer and what it was doing to your hyunjin. It was taking him painfully slow out of this world. With him getting worse you were too. You wanted to be strong for him, and for him to have the happiest last christmas ever but you couldn’t help it, the weight of the fact that soon he wouldn’t be there anymore was dragging you down too much, when you knew that it only hurt him more to see you like this, altough you always tried to hide it.

So there you were now. You stiffened and took your head off his shoulder, to look him in the eye. „Don‘t say it like that hyun-“

„No, i will in fact say it like that, cause i‘m not gonna lie to any of us for longer.I know that i‘m going to die, and you know it too okay? So why can‘t we enjoy the time left, and just do everything like we used to, instead of you constantly acting like i‘m some kind of fragile doll that could break at any moment? You acting like a overprotective mom isn‘t gonna change a single thing, as much as it hurts to hear that. Think about it y/n. Because i don‘t want to sit on this couch or in my bed the rest of my life. I‘m not doing this y/n.“ His voice was thick with emotion, and he had kicked his sketchbook away. He stood up, in fact needing a bit time to get up, and to lean onto the wall, but he went into your room, shutting the door. You stared at the closed door, with an empty hollow gaze. The other guys now excused themself and left. But before he left, chan said to you with a guilty smile: „Not everything he said is true, but you should think about some parts. Bye y/nnie.“

Now you were left alone in the silence. Hyunjin’s sketchbook was laying open on the floor, and the pages were a bit scaped now. He was going to be mad at himself for that later. You picked it up, wanting to close it, but then you saw his sketch from today. It wasn’t the scene in front of him, it was you, looking a bit sad. Under the drawing he wrote

My sad girl, 2024

When is she gonna be my happy girl again?

A tear ran down your cheek. He was always very empathetic and he hated when you felt down. Why hadn‘t you thought of the fact that you being like this only weighed him more down?

You cuddled up under the blanket that was still warm from hyunjin, tears slowly falling down. You knew he was right. Of course he wanted to enjoy his life, as long as he was still able to. Because no matter what you were going to do, it wasn‘t gonna change anything anyways, so why not enjoy instead of being sad and regretful when he was still with you, still breathing, still being able to smile at you?

After a while you could finally get yourself to go to him again. You braced yourself and got up, knocking on the door of your shared room. He just faintly sniffled. You opened the door slowly, seeing him huddled up under a blanket. He was crying, and it broke your heart. Hyunjin was a sensitive guy, and he hated arguing with loved ones more than anything, so you should have known that this would get to him, also if he was acting careless and tough. You kept being quiet, just sitting down on your side of the bed. You started stroking his hair, at wich he only started crying more. After a while of being like this in silence, the only sounds his quiet crying and the air cnditioner in the background, he lowered the blanket and looked at you with red eyes. „I don‘t want to die either y/n. I just… i‘m trying to be strong cause you are hurting so much,and i‘m so sorry for leaving you alone my love-“ His voice broke, and more tears spilled over onto his red cheeks. You opened your arms for him, and he didn‘t hesitate. He immediately moved a bit so his head was laying on your chest now. Quickly you wrapped your arms around him, kissing his head, while a few tears trailed down your cheeks too. Of course you knew. „I know, i know hyunnie. But you don‘t need to be strong all the time. I can‘t cure the cancer, but we are in this together. You can tell me how you feel, and i will give you space when you need it, but be by your side whenever you want it too. And i also promise to not act like a overprotective mom anymore.“ He chuckled a bit through his tears at that, wich made you do so too. „See, everything‘s okay. You are not alone, and as long as we can spend time together, i’ll be with you, trying to make your time left the best you ever had. How about tomorrow we make a christmas day? Like we go to the christmas market, bake gingerbread in the afternoon and sing christmas songs, all while we have ugly christmas sweaters on?“ you both started laughing, the tears finally stopping. He nodded,his face squished against your hoodie now, and his breathing was evening out. Maybe you really shouldn‘t take everything that serious. Because now it wasn‘t that point where you would have to say goodbye. You had no idea how much, but you had some time left to spend together, and you would try to make the best out of it. You would love him till the very end, and even after that, you‘d still do so. And as long as he was next to you would also tell him that, and make sure that when he had to go, he would do so in peace. So you closed your eyes, and in this little moment, everything that mattered was hyunjin, entirely squished against you, and you, holding him, as long as you could. The stars could have looked down at you two that night, and altough hyunjin was sick, and paths of the tears that you both cried earlier still lingered on your cheeks, they would have seen you two shine brighter than ever, the light not leaving, as long as you were together.

Prove reading done* until there ^

The next morning you woke up, a white comforter draped over you, and you almost had a heart attack when hyunjin was nowhere near. But then you saw him, walking in with a big grin, and one of the matching ugly christmas sweaters you had bought together sometime on.You started laughing, still half asleep and in a groggy voice. „You look…. Interesting.“ hyunjin laughed and threw something at you. It was your christmas sweater. You sighed, and you did your best to put a serious face on. His smile dropped. „Oh no- no- don‘t say you changed your mind.“ You broke out in a laugh and jumped up, putting the sweater over your pajama shirt. „God you are going to make me die even sooner with the heart attacks you give me.“ Hyunjin dramatically exhaled, gripping his chest. You just rolled your eyes at that. You were glad he was his usual dramatic self, the weight in the room that you both somehow created the past weeks, seemingly gone, replaced by a lighthearted joyful mood.

So you dressed the rest of yourself, grabbed your things and left the apartment with hyunjin. He had insisted to eat waffles at his favorite coz cafe around the corner, and not have one of your healthy breakfasts at home. You had given in, so now you were walking there, both wrapped up in coats, and fuzzy scarfs. It was cold outside, and the wind blew. There were faint smells of gingerbread and cinnamon in the air, telling you it was really getting christmas now. Well christmas was already tomorrow so how could it be different? You went into the cafe and hyunjin picked a spot at the window. On the pastell green walls there were everywhere pretty pictures, and the chairs were all different, each one looking vintage and really comfy. You ordered two waffles and two hot chocolates. As you sat there in the cozy fluffy chair, you looked at him. He looked the same as yesterday, and the days before but something was different. It wasn‘t the pink shade on his nose from the cold, or neither the Christmas sweater. No, it was that his eyes sparkled. They sparkled like they didn‘t in a long time. Maybe he was right? Maybe this was what he needed, not your experimental healthy food (that didn’t even taste good, eugh) and constant sitting around at home. Hyunjin shook you out of your thoughts. „Why are you staring?“

You shook your head with a little smile. „You‘re pretty today.“

He just laughed, assuming you were joking because of the sweater.

Your waffles and hot chocolate were served and hyunjin got excited like a kid, and immediately started munching them. You giggled, and secretly took a picture with your phone. Then you started eating too. The waffles tasted like christmas and happiness. You had never eaten such good waffles before. Maybe it was also just the feeling to sit here and eat them with hyunjin, entirely lighthearted and happy for the first time in weeks. As you were highly concentrated on your food, hyunjin suddenly spoke up. „I love you, you know that? And i always will, even when you can‘t see me anymore. But don‘t worry, i‘ll look at you getting older, achieving your dreams, and doing everything you want to, because i know you’ll do so well, even without me. And i‘ll protect you, from wherever i will be going. You‘ll always be my muse y/n.“ He sounded sincere, not sarcastic like when he was being dramatic, though he kept on eating his waffles, like he didn‘t just say something that almost made you cry and want to hold him for the rest of your life. You looked at him, tears building up a bit behind your eyes. „Hyunnie… I love you too, and always will. I don‘t know if i ever can fully move on though,… because i will always think of you when i look at the moon shining bright on the dark night sky, or when i look at the town around christmastime, everything tinted in a soft glow and everything smelling like gingerbread.“ You said, but you weren‘t as desperate and almost seeming like you would break down at any moment, like it was just a few days ago when he started talking about his death. No, you were calm, and a little, sad smile played on your lips. He was done with his waffles now, and leaned over the table to cup your cheek in his warm hand. „It‘s okay y/nnie. Grieving i a natural and healthy part of when someone you love is dying. And it‘s okay to cry, scream or vent to someone. But please don‘t do all that alone hm? I talked to the boys a few days ago, and they have all grown so close to you too over the years, they will support you, and you can grieve together. Know that you are not alone y/n, never. And i‘ll always be somewhere in there.“ He pointed at where your heart was. „And you are the strongest, bravest woman i know, so i know that you will be able to somewhat move on someday. Oh but i have one little request. Please never forget me, no matter what you choose to do in the future. I like the idea of you being reminded of me when looking at the moon or while the christmas season. I hope you are being reminded of me in a good way though, and not like a haunting nightmare way.“ He chuckled at the last part a bit. And you smiled too.

„I would never forget you love, and don’t worry about it, you‘ll always be my dream, never my nightmare.“

„Oh but one more thing. Don’t be afraid of me dying, while i’m still here. Everything is gonna be okay.“ He smiled. You both looked into each other‘s eyes for a moment there, and it felt like nothing else was existing right now. No other people, no sadness, and no cancer. Just hyunjin‘s mesmerizing dark eyes looking into yours.

You two were walking out the cafe, hand in hand, now going to the little christmas market hyunjin adored since you took him there for the first time. Since then he didn‘t spend a singly christmas season without going there.

Your breaths were coming out in little white clouds, and you put your head on hyunjin‘s shoulder. He took his hand out of yours,and instead lovingly wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you close, and pressing a kiss to your head. You loved when he did that. If only you could stop time now, and walk in the joyful town forever with your boyfriend.

But soon you heard happy children‘s laughter, and smelled cinammon. No doubt that there was the christmas market. Hyunjin started smiling like crazy. He loved the fact that he got to see this for the last time with you. No, he wouldn’t be sad that it was the last time today, and regret things. No, he would just be so, so glad to spend this day here, forgetting the cancer that usually weighed him down, for a while. It seemed like a gift that he got this day, being with his favorite person in probably his favorite place.

Soon enough he saw a stand, with cute handmade christmas decorations. He immediately went over there, and made a adorable noise.

„Looooook y/n, it‘s a ferret with a scarf, and it looks like my scarf! We need to adopt him and hang him on our tree. I feel our bond, so no arguing on this one.“ He said dead serious. You laughed, looking at the ferret. You almost forgot how excited hyunjin always got at the christmas market, and how you had to convince him to not buy literally everything he saw. But you nodded on this one, the little deco really looking a bit like hyunjin right now, with his cute red nose and the adorable smile on his face. He went to the man who was selling it, and even gave him more money than the ferret costed. The guy happily wished him merry christmas and waved. Hyunjin just loved to make people happy, and why not do that especially now? He took your hand in his again, walking by the other stands, the shimmer of the fairylights hanging on all the stands mirroring the one in his eyes. As you were slowly walking, you, literally trying to convince hyunjin to not buy a gigantic wolf statue from the eighteenth century for chan(He was so silly, he had to gift everyone the most random things for christmas with the simple explanation: I saw that and thought of you), you suddenly felt something cold on your face. Hyunjin seemed to feel it too, because he looked up and immediately his whole face lit up even more if that was possible. „Omg Y/n it‘s snowing! This is just a perfect day, even the weather with it‘s beautiful snow is on our side.“ He talked, not really paying attention to what he was saying, just mesmerized by the white crystals.

Sometimes you took a bit time, just to admire the way he got excited over little things, in a way you would usually see it only with kids. Those moments, when joy was literally radiating from him you felt so much love and admiration for him that you could combust. You just wanted to snap a hundred pictures with that adorable smile and the shine in his eyes, and keep them forever in your heart. You brushed his hair out of his face, and your hand lingered on his cheek for a bit longer. „You‘re right hyun, this is the perfect day.“ You whispered. He just continued smiling, then lowered down to kiss you. You didn‘t feel the cold snow on your skin anymore, only your boyfriends soft lips, that tasted like cinammon and warmness, pressed to yours. As you pulled away, your foreheads were resting against each other, and you felt his warm breath on your face. „Let‘s go home now, then we can bake gingerbread and show mini Jinnie his new home.“ you giggled at his words, and nodded, your eyes not leaving his.

You walked through your apartment door, both of you giggling like lovesick fools. You took your shoes and coat off, but suddenly your feet got sweeped off the floor, and you were being carried by hyunjin. „Yah, stop it!! The doctor said no heavy lifting!“ You slapped his arm in an attempt to make him let you down but you couldn‘t even hold in your own laugh. He shook his head and dramatically said: „If not now, then when should i carry you bridal style, my lady?“ You playfully slapped his arm again and threw your head back in laughter. He just fondly smiled, lowering his head down to kiss you on the cheek, and then he carried you into the kitchen. The other guys seemed to also have decorated the kitchen because beautiful fairy lights were hung over the stoves, and some more decoration, including a mistletoe, was placed perfect. When hyunjin stopped under the mistletoe you started shaking your head. „No jinnie don‘t. Please, that‘s so cheesy,don‘t do it.“ You whined, knowing exactly he would in fact do it.He grinned and asked „May i?“ He didn‘t wait for an answer, he just softly laid his lips on yours, the kiss so tender like always. Both of you closed your eyes, and you wrapped your arms around his neck. After a while you slowly pulled away, and he murmured a soft „love you my muse“. You hid your face in the crook of his neck, smiling. „Love you too hyunnie“ your words were muffled against his sweater, but he didn‘t mind. He wouldn‘t want to be anywhere else in the world right now.

You went into the kitchen, and hyunjin let you down. You started preparing everything for gingerbread, and soon christmas songs were filling the air. With the fairy lights on, everything was tinted in a soft, cozy glow.

As you were just done with the dough and had placed it to rest somewhere ‘all i want for christmas‘ started playing. „Oh my favorite christmas song.“ He chimed, preparing a spoon as a microphone. You looked at him in shock. „Sorry what?? Don‘t tell me we are together for literally six years, and i had no idea that your favorite christmas song is all i want for christmas. How can you have these muscles, and act all flirty but suddenly be like a lovesick teeny girl?“

A endearing pout played on his lips. „It‘s a classical, don‘t judge me!“ You sighed but started giggling. As the refrain of the song came, hyunjin threw his hair back (Nuh uh seriously, who was this diva?) and he began to loudly sing into the spoon. You laughed, but couldn‘t resist him. You grabbed a spoon toom, and put it up to your mouth, singing along with him. He then wrapped his one arm around your waist, and with the other one he held his ‘microphone‘ , singing „All i want for christmasss is youuuuu“ And then pointing at you. You started dancing around together too. In a little clumsy pirouette move, where you would never think this man was a professional dancer, Hyunjin accidentally threw a bag of flour off the stove. In only a few seconds you both and the whole floor were coated in a thick layer of flour. For a moment you were both flabbergasted, but soon you bursted out laughing, and hyunjin just kept singing like it was nothing. This whole moment felt so heartwarming and silly, you just knew this was one of those moments you would still think of in twenty years. Hyunjin ended his little concert with one more time singing the refrain line and then he picked you up and swirled you around, the flour flying around in the air. You squealed, not expecting it, wich only made him chuckle. As he let you down again, he pulled you close again, pressing a kiss to your forehead, not caring that now flour was on his lips.„I love you so much.“

You giggled, wrapping your arms around him, so now you were both wrapped up tightly in each others embrace, not caring about the fact that you were just distributing the flour even more.

„You said that so often today.“

„Yes because i never ever want you to forget it, alright love?“ he held you jut a bit tighter, and you felt his nose nuzzling against your neck.

„alright.“

„Good. Let‘s just stay like this for a little while longer? You look cute in flour.“

„As long as you want to.“ you smiled softly and laid your head against his chest, feeling his heartbeat.

After a while the flour got a bit itchy though, you both had to admit. So you went into your room, getting some clothes for you and hyunjin, while he went into the bathroom to run a bath. You took your matching christmas pajamas, the fluffy one with gingerbread men on it. As you came into the bathroom, hyunjin was turning on the water, putting some of your favorite cinammon-bath salt in it. He had also lit some candles, and turned off the big light, so the whole bathroom was tinted in golden light. You both undressed, and you stepped into the tub first, sitting down at the end of it. Hyunjin waited and raised a brow. „Don‘t you want me to sit behind you like usual? You always like when i massage your scalp, or your tense shoulders“ You gently smiled up to him. „Today i‘m gonna do all that for you. It was so wonderful to just forget everything today, and with the christmas market and the snow, everything was just perfect. But you‘re still my sick baby. So sit down, today it‘s me who is gonna massage your scalp.“ Hyunjin‘s eyes filled with tears, and a fond smile crept up to his lips. He got into the bathtub too, sitting down between your legs, like you usually did with him. You soon gently started to run your fingers through his hair, and he closed his eyes, cherishing the feeling. After a while you felt his muscles completely relax, and his breathing get slow and steady, almost like his body was melting into yours. You held him tight, one hand still in his hair, and from time to time you kissed his shoulder, like he always did to you.

After a while when you almost thought he had fallen asleep he murmured: „The water‘s getting cold.“

You hummed. „Let‘s get out, and get you to sleep jinnie.“

„But the gingerbread.“ He mumbled, but his eyes were already closed. You smiled and he whined as you got up and out of the tub. „We can still make the little gingerbread men, and ferrets and whatever you want, tomorrow.“ You took a fluffy towel, and wrapped it around yourself. Then you got another one, and tried dragging hyunjin out of the water.

„But then it‘s already christmas day. That‘s against the rules my lady.“ You chuckled at his sleepy confused mumbling. „We are making our own rules.“ You took the towel and slowy dried him off. Then you softly pushed him down to sit on the bathtub edge and put him on his pajamas. „You are taking care of me so well love… Never gonna stop loving you, i‘ll protect my muse at all costs, even when i‘m not physically with you anymore.“ He mumbled, so incoherent and sleep drunken you almost didn‘t understand it. „I know jinnie, i know. Now let‘s get you to bed, hm?“ He whined, and after you quickly put on your own pajamas too, you helped him get up and you both went to bed. As he laid down, you pulled the comforter up to his chin, lovingly stroking his hair. Then you got into bed too, closing your eyes. When you were already at the edge of sleep you suddenly heard hyunjin speak up again. „Y/n?“

„Hmm?“ „Please say it back“

„What are you talking bout.“

„That you love me. I‘m so tired already, but somehow i feel like i won‘t fall asleep if you don‘t say it.“

If you would have thought about that, maybe you could have somewhere already thought that it was coming. Hyunjin‘s pure soul was bracing itself for something, as if he knew.

„I love you. Forever and ever.“

And then you both drifted off.

When you woke up, you didn‘t immediately open your eyes. But you knew. You felt it. You could never describe this feeling, or how you would know, but you had no doubt your hyunjin was somewhere else now. Somewhere far away. And when you finally did open your eyes you took a second to breathe in. You slowly sat up and braced yourself. Then you looked to your side. There he was, looking like he was sleeping peacefully. You didn‘t know if you were imagining that or if it was real but it seemed like even a small smile was laying on his lips. You were oddly calm, as you stood up, and walked around to hyunjin‘s side.

You crouched down next to the bed, and with a slight tremble you took his hand in yours. It was still a bit warm. You pressed a kiss to it, as a silent tear rolled down your cheek. „Hey hyunnie. I don‘t know if you can hear me, but i just want to tell you that i love you okay? Don‘t forget that. And i hope you weren‘t in pain when it happened. Just know that you can peacefully go wherever you are supposed to go now. It‘s okay for me. I will continue living, also if the pain of your absence will daily remind me of the fact that you aren‘t with me anymore. But that‘s okay. I thought that this pain is the worst, but it makes me remember you, and that‘s what i want to do for the rest of my life, so actually i will be okay with it. That day yesterday was really a perfect day, as you said. I guess somehow our souls knew that soon they would have to say goodbye to each other. It helped me realize that when you die i won‘t have to act all strong, and feel like suffocating when i‘m alone. Oh by the way, i‘ll call the guys soon, and tell them. Then i‘ll bake our gingerbreadmen okay? And i‘ll be taking good care of mini jinnie, so you don‘t have to worry about him and his little scarf.“ You smiled through the tears running down your cheeks, that were silently landing on the bed next to hyunjin.

„So hyunnie, i bet you are wating for me to finish my dramatic boring speech so you can finally go in peace, hm? I wish you merry christmas my one and only love.“ You kissed his hand tenderly for the last time, a single little tear dripping down onto it.

Taglist: @0omillo0 @lina-linny @darqlys

@onementally-unstabel-kid @idek6758 @sadie-tucker @kozumesphone

@urlocalmultigroupfan @thoughtfularbiternightmare @lezleeferguson-120

@stayblrofficial hello this is my submission for the stayblrholiday event! For some reason I can’t send y’all the link but yeah I hope tagging is okay too!<3

[postingjustwhatever]

Spoilers for Sonic 3. This is just a rant. I just really want to get my thoughts out there and everything off my chest because I am just so upset, like really really upset. I am shocked I have heard nothing but praise for this movie. It really got my hopes up. I really didn't like the other ones. I'm not a big fan of the live action plus animated characters combo, The characters still look super uncanny and weird to me. I also really don't like Jim Carrey, I realllllly reallly don't like him. I don't find him funny at all. He's got kind of that millennial humor where it seems he thinks making weird faces and acting goofy is the peak of humor. Idk if younger kids find that funny, I feel like I wouldn't even as a kid. But I especially don't like it now, I'm just old man, I'm tired. I really wanted this movie to be a little more mature. Shadow Generations did such a good job. Dark Beginnings was amazing. I wish this movie could have felt more like that.

These movies just don't feel like Sonic at all. I know everyone gets sick of people complaining about Sonic's personality in these. But I think those are valid complaints. He just doesn't act or feel like Sonic and I don't think anything they do can make me view him as Sonic.

I just can't get over the whole Sonic the other characters being aliens from a different planet thing. It makes it hard to introduce other characters. And it completely changed who Sonic is. And now it's changed who Shadow is. Shadow is now just Sonic but edgy. He's just Sonic but if he got caught and put in a lab instead of living by himself and later getting adopted by humans. They took the Shadow being a darker version of Sonic thing literally. They changed everything about his backstory all while talking about how they wanted to do his backstory right.

It just hurts so much. I know I shouldn't be so affected by this. But I have been a fan of the Sonic franchise for so long and Shadow has always been one of my favorite characters of all time. And it hurts to have had my hopes up for this movie even a little bit thinking it would at least be better than the others and be so so disappointed. Maybe I don't have a right to complain because I didn't actually finish watching it. I started crying and ended up leaving around 45 mins in. Really embarrassing. I just couldn't enjoy it. I really really didn't like the Jim Carrey parts, they were painful. I was willing to sit though them because I wanted to see Shadow's backstory brought to screen in a big movie. But then then they explain his backstory and it's nothing like the games.

He crashed to earth in a comet. He wasn't created by Gerald. Maria wasn't sick. They didn't live on Space Colony Ark. I was so confused. I never even considered that they would change any of this. I thought the gun commander was just lying to Sonic about where Shadow came from so Sonic would work for them or something. But then they show the flashback with Maria and it's still the same. I ended up quickly looking up on my phone it they changed his backstory for this movie and they did. I just don't get why. I've seen people say because it wouldn't make sense in the movie universe because in the movies Sonic and friends are aliens. So they decide to just make Shadow an alien just like them?? I feel like they could have made his backstory work somehow. They didn't even try. Now he's just a literal dark parallel to Sonic. He's always been so but not like this. Do they think the most important part of his backstory is that he was in a lab, there was a professor and also a little girl he was friends with that gets killed.

It just kills me that they changed everything about Maria. She's not sick??? I guess if she's not sick it makes no sense for Gerald to have been researching a way to cure her or anything. I hate it so much. Shadow being just an alien takes away so much depth from all of their characters. Maria is the reason Shadow exists in the first place. She was so important. Their relationship was so important. It feel so much more meaningful for Shadow to have been created by her grandfather to cure her, than him just being some alien she was friends with. Her being sick but also so kind and hopeful was so important. She gets killed by the government when they raided a place that was trying to find a cure for her and she still tells Shadow to protect the people of earth. Maria was so important but now she's just some kid he was friends with I guess. I hate that they took away her sickness and her disability. I loved that the journal that came with Sonic x Shadow Generations portrayed that more. I loved that they showed it actually affecting her. I loved them showing her in the wheelchair hooked up to the iv bag but she was still smiling. She was still strong and hopeful despite everything and she still wanted Shadow to protect the earth despite what happened. And this movie took all that away from her character. I hate it.

Them just living on earth on some base makes me so upset. I was excited to see them on the Space Colony Ark. I wanted to see them looking out the window of the ark at the earth but instead I get them laying in the grass looking at the stars. Maria was so tragic because she loved the earth so much but she couldn't be there because she was sick. They took all of those parts of her character away.

I don't know how Professor Gerald was portrayed all I've seen of him was what was in the trailers and the brief glimpse I got before I left and I've hated everything I've seen. Gerald has never been as silly a character as Eggman. But it seems like Jim Carrey was playing him exactly the same. I assume he changes and acts different towards the end but my impression of him was already ruined. What's the point of him if he didn't create Shadow as a way to cure his granddaughter. It takes away so much from his character. He was also a tragic character. Him trying to do good with his research but then using his creation, Shadow as a weapon against humanity after his granddaughter is killed even after his death is ruined. He's still alive and he didn't create Shadow. I hate it so much. It's not as tragic with him still being alive. Did they have him still be alive so Jim Carrey could play double the annoying wacky roles. Gerald Robotnik is supposed to be a sad tragic old man but all I got was Jim Carrey in goofy looking prosthetic makeup.

Look I know it's a kids movie but couldn't they at least of made it a little less silly. The games were also kids games. Shadow Generation was also a kids game but it did a way better job with handling these characters. Maria and Gerald were Shadow's family. Gerald was his dad, sort of, I hate that they changed that. I guess Maria was still like family with him in this (idk what his relationship with Gerald was I didn't watch that far) but it's not the same.

I loved the Space Colony Ark, I loved it being some research lab up in space. What about artificial chaos, the biolizard, emerl??? None of that is a thing in these movies. It just sucks sooo much. Everything I love about the games is not in this movie. I couldn't finish watching it because I was so upset about the changes. It was bothering me so much it made Jim Carrey so much more insufferable. I am wondering if Shadow still has some connection to the Black Arms because he did fall to earth in a suspicious looking comet. I don't know if I even care because they already took away all the most important parts of his backstory.

Shadow's backstory being changed also kind of ruined the whole Sonic and his powers being sort of a natural force of nature thing and Shadow and his power being a man made thing. Like Shadow is always claiming to be the ultimate life form but he almost can't live up to Sonic's natural talent. It makes their rivalry so much more interesting. I also hate them having such similar backstories here. Sonic is supposed to be unburdened, free as the wind, living in the present, we don't even know what his backstory is. While Shadow is nothing but backstory, haunted by the past and burdened with tragedy.

Movie Sonic is nothing like game Sonic. There is very little that I love about game Sonic present in movie Sonic. I hate that since movie Sonic has a backstory they decided to take most of Shadow's backstory away so he would parallel Sonic. They really just made him Sonic but not nice.

I've just wanted to see a fully animated Sonic movie for years. I've especially wanted to see Sonic Adventure 2 adapted as an animated movie. These movies ruined my chance of seeing that. I thought this movie would be as close as I'd ever get to seeing SA2 in movie form. But there was nothing about it that was similar. Shadow may have the right personality but he has none of his backstory. Sonic isn't anything like Sonic. Tails is Tails I guess. I don't really care much about Knuckles but he doesn't even feel similar to his game counterpart.

I really hate everything they are doing with this movies. It's fine if people like them. I'm not trying to change anyone's opinion. I just really wanted to write how I feel about them because this one really upset me. I've cried a lot because of it. Which is silly I know. Shadow's character was important to me and so was Maria and it hurts so see so much changed about it. I had a dream a couple nights ago that I was watching this movie in theaters. In the dream there was some kind of change I didn't like and the movie was really short and I was really disappointed about it. I remember being upset about it because it sucked so bad. And the same thing happened when I actually saw the movie. They changed a lot and it was short because I left early. I just usually don't get excited for things because they usually disappoint me. I was kinda looking forward to this one and the good reviews didn't help. I was probably more excited than I realized because I did dream about it multiple times. I was disappointed in every dream. Usually when I am looking forward to something I have dreams about the thing where it sucks. I never been this thoroughly disappointed though. I think this is going to ruin my enjoyment of the Sonic franchise, everytime I see anything Sonic I think this movie and the disappointment that came with it is going to pop into my head.

Something that really bothers me is this quote from the director.

They didn't want too many characters so they could get Shadow's backstory right??? They got nothing about it right. I wish they wouldn't have added Gerald in the movie. He felt unnecessary. I would have much rather have had Rouge than another Jim Carrey. Rouge is important to Shadow's character. She was introduced in the same game. I hate that she was just sidelined like that. Them talking about how they wanted to do Shadow's backstory right just got my hopes up too much.

The lead up to the movie made me more excited than I should have been I guess. I preordered Sonic x Shadow Generations when it was announced. I played it when it came out, it had everything I loved about Shadow's character in it. I went to the Sonic Symphony this November. I felt like this movie, even if it wasn't great would at least be a fun way to end all of that. But it really just left me feeling awful.

I'm sure these movies have been great for the Sonic franchise. The money made from them probably helps them make better games. They've probably introduced a more people and kids to the Sonic franchise. I just kinda hate that this is the version they are introduced to.

I'm just so upset but I keep thinking something's wrong with me because everyone else seems to be enjoying it but I just can't. I don't think I am going to be watching any more of these movies, this one killed any interest.

[theaceofarrows]

Imagine for a moment that instead of taking them back to when their parents were in high school. The pocket watch took Red and Chloe back to the day Bridget lost the rest of her family.

And listening to the screams and devastation...Red has a moment of thinking ...oh heck...this is it....THIS what pushed my mother over the edge to be 'heartless'...It wasn't JUST the prank, it was LOSING HER HEART, as she lost the REST of our family....

I know I say this a lot, but I can't imagine all the emotions that Red would be going through in that moment when she sees that.

Red is the type of person who jumps straight in when she needs to defend someone (like she did for young Bridget when the VKs showed up in Life Is Sweeter), but it wouldn't be surprising if she froze before she could do much. It wouldn't be a stretch if Red thought the watch had messed something up and was somehow making her see things because what she's seeing can't be real, can it?

Her father is the dead King of Hearts who was whispered to have been killed by her mother. The dead King of Hearts, whose name she doesn't even know because it's outlawed from being spoken and is a crime punishable by death. That can't be her father, can it?

She is an only child. She doesn't and has never had brothers or sisters. Her mother is tight-lipped about the time before Red was born, yes, but surely, she would have mentioned if she had other children before Red that she so clearly loved. Wouldn't she?

I have no doubt that after a few moments of the initial shock wearing off that Red WOULD run at the guards to stop them, but by then, despite Red kicking, punching, and tackling as many guards as she can, even with Chloe using her sword to help, they're two teenagers against dozens of trained men, it's too late.

The man that's apparently Red's father has been knocked unconscious, surrounded by the bodies of men he's killed or injured. Her young siblings kick and scream and cry for their parents, as they're being carried away, but no matter how hard they try, they can't win against grown men. All of this happens while her mother is being held back by multiple guards, screaming, demanding, and pleading for them to release her family. It's no use.

When Auradon's guards have left with her family and Red sees her mom on her knees, sobbing, and absolutely broken, for the first time, Red understands the grief that's followed her mother for sixteen years.

Chloe is having so much conflict. She's spent her whole life knowing exactly who the good guys are and who the bad guys are. So now why does she feel sick to her stomach after witnessing what Auradon, the good guys just did to the bad guys? After witnessing something that her parents supported?

And all of this is within just the first hour. Overall, this would be so much heavier for both Red and Chloe than just ending up at Merlin Academy.

Sorry if this doesn't make sense with the way I worded it. My wording keeps coming off like a pov, and that KoH part was 100% just my headcanon. I once again got carried away.

Thank you so much for the ask! I definitely had a lot of thoughts on this.

[mxmvoreandstuff]

Brother Bash (Smut)

Sam wouldn’t shut up. For the entirety of the past hour, he was non-stop talking. Dean was about five seconds away from reaching over the Impala’s seat to smack him.

“Dean, the lore doesn’t add up here. There’s no banshees in the midwest-” 

“Sam, do you ever stop talking?” Dean snapped. His grip on the wheel tightened. “I mean seriously, you got an off switch, right? Or do I need to smack some sense into you for you to shut up?”  

Sam rolled his eyes, clearly annoyed, “Dean, I’m just trying to help.” 

“Yeah, well quit it. You’re annoying and I’m sick of your voice,” Dean replied. He couldn't help but admire the way Sam's body filled out his shirt, the way his muscles rippled under his skin. 

Sam, still salty about Dean’s insults, couldn’t help but have a small pout, clearly exasperated about what Dean said. 

Dean smirked, “What’s wrong Sammy? Don’t tell me I hurt your pretty little feelings.”

Sam huffed, “You know what Dean? Pull over.”  

Dean raised an eyebrow, a mix of amusement and curiosity on his face. “Oh, this ought to be good. What are you going to do? Gonna cry some pretty tears?

“No,” Sam shot back, his tone sharp. “We’re settling this right now.”

Dean’s grin widened. “Oh, you wanna throw down? Fine by me, Sammy.” 

The moment Dean said that, the 2 brothers began to throw down. They struggled briefly for a moment before ending up outside the Impala. They wrestled around for a bit longer. 

“Gonna teach you to shut up once and for all," Dean growled, his face inches from Sam's. Then, with a sudden, vicious movement, Dean's mouth opened wide and he clamped down on Sam's head, and his throat started to bulge as his much larger brother was shoved in. It was wet and suffocating, Sam was humiliated as his older brother swallowed him up to his arms. Dean groaned as he felt the weight of his brother shift in his mouth. 

Sam started to cry. He’d never been so humiliated in his life. Tears dwelled down his face as Dean grunted with another swallow. Now half of Sam’s body was inside Dean’s stomach. Sam’s mind raced with fear as he was pulled even deeper down Dean’s throat. He couldn’t believe it, the brother he loved and trusted was now borderline cannibalizing him. Sam whimpered, his voice muffled and distorted by the layers of flesh surrounding him. 

With a final gulp, Dean’s stomach bulged obscenely as Sam’s entire body disappeared inside. The hunter let out a deep moan, one hand rubbing his now-massive belly as Sam settled inside.

“That’s it, Sammy, you’re all mine. You little brat,” Dean purred. “Don’t worry, little bro. I’ll take good care of you.” Dean stated as he slowly unzipped his jeans, freeing his hardening cock. 

As Dean began to stroke himself, his other hand rubbing his stomach, Sam could only moan helplessly inside as he was squished by Dean’s internal stomach muscles. Dean’s hand slid lower, fingers pressed against his tight hole as he spoke, “All mine, Sammy. All mine.” He moaned as he slid a finger inside, it reached far enough into Sam’s asshole. 

Sam bit his lip, attempting to stifle a moan. He couldn’t believe the sensation he was feeling. He was getting violated by his brother while inside his stomach.

“Fuck you’re mine, my prey, my fucktoy, my meal.” Dean moaned out.

Sam could only groan as Dean continued to violate his hole. His cock was rock hard and threatening to release. 

Dean continued stroking himself as he fingered himself and Sam. Dean’s thrusts became more rough and feral as both brothers began to reach their climax. Sam’s orgasm hit him like a bullet train, he spilled himself all over the insides of Dean’s gut.  As Dean pulled his finger out, his own orgasm hit him harder than Sam’s. Dean had to sit down for a moment, he was bewildered. Dean attempted to zip up his jeans but with his belly in the way, it was futile. He patted his distended belly before speaking, “Good boy Sammy. You took your punishment well. I love you, little bro. And maybe if you keep behaving, I’ll even let you breathe again.” 

Dean walked back to the Impala, his big squirming belly making it difficult to even get in. Once he sat down in the driver’s seat, Sam continued to squirm, causing Dean to let out a massive, wet belch, the sound echoing throughout the Impala.

“Mhmm, that’s better, Sammy boy,” Dean sighed, rubbing his belly contentedly. He knows his hunger is only temporarily satisfied.

[sad-girl-hours23]

Hold Me Hostage, Arrest My Attention

For the @tevanadvent2024 Day 4: Hostage & Day 5: Attention

Rating: E

Tags: Orgasm Delay/Denial, Daddy Kink (not really, but just in case)

Word Count: 1,157

Buck hasn’t seen or heard from Tommy in three weeks. Not since Tommy checked on Maddie and him at the hospital after the kidnapping/hostage situation. They’d had a brief, neutral exchange in Buck’s hospital room, but then Bobby and Hen had shown up and Tommy snuck out before Buck could ask him to stay.

He’s wanted to reach out so many times but what would he even say?

Thank you

Why haven’t you called?

Please Daddy can you fuck me until I forget my own name and that you ever broke my heart?

Buck sighs and goes back to scrolling through Instagram until a text post catches his eye. It reads: Hostage or not, sometimes it’s just nice to be held.

He takes a screenshot. Stares at it for a minute in his camera roll. He shouldn’t. But he’s feeling a little sad and even more petulant. He still misses Tommy even if he’s no longer baking about it. He’s lonely. And he’s horny. He misses sex and he’s angry that even the thought of being with somebody else makes him sick and so he hasn’t even tried. 

He sends the photo. If he can’t have Tommy, at least he’ll have gotten his attention.

His phone vibrates with a message and it sends a thrill up his spine. Before he can open the message, two more come in and the panic sets in. Fuck. What did he do?

He ignores the call coming in. Considers going for a run instead to distract himself. Thinks better of it and opts for a shower instead.

∗∗∗

There’s a knock at Buck’s door just as he’s finished drying off. He ties the towel around his waist and pads to the door.

Buck tries to act surprised, maybe a little confused, but he can’t help the smile that creeps onto his face. “Tommy?” He lets Tommy in and closes the door, resting against it.

“What is wrong with you?”

“Wha—”

Tommy shows him their text thread, already open on his phone.

Buck lifts his chin. “I meant to send that to Eddie.”

Tommy hums. “Did you also mean to like fifteen of Eddie’s photos from 2019?” 

Buck smirks and shrugs. “Had to get your attention somehow.”

Tommy moves closer but doesn’t touch him and before he can do something considerate like ask if Buck’s okay with it, he grabs Tommy’s face and kisses him.

Tommy’s stubble scrapes against Buck’s freshly shaved skin and Buck gets hard so fast he’s dizzy with it. “Bed,” he says, in between kisses. “I need you in my bed like yesterday.”

Tommy looks between them where Buck’s dick is poking out of the gap in the towel, hard and already leaking, and he chuckles. “Baby, I don’t think you’re going to make it that far.” 

“Oh fuck you, Kinard.”

Tommy hums. “Not tonight, dear.” Then he drops to his knees, takes Buck into the wet heat of his mouth, and gives Buck the quickest, most dizzying orgasm of his life.

Buck’s still panting and clinging to Tommy’s shoulders when Tommy suddenly lifts him in a fireman’s carry.

Buck laughs, his first genuine one in months. “Oh my god, put me down you beast.”

“Not a chance, Buckley,” Tommy says, carrying him upstairs. 

∗∗∗

Buck groans and clutches the sheets underneath him, which are soaked with a mixture of his sweat and drool. His chances of crying or coming are pretty even at this point. Except, Tommy won’t let him come, not until he’s named all of the U.S. state capitals. In alphabetical order by state. Buck scoffed when Tommy had set the terms. Easy, he thought, I could do that in my sleep. 

It’s not so easy with Tommy’s tongue in Buck’s ass, his cock leaking into the pillow supporting his hips and it feels like Tommy’s been eating him out for hours and he’s still a little come drunk from his first orgasm and he’s only up to—oh, fuck— “Carson,” Buck moans. “Carson City.” Memories of a late night wiki deep dive ping in his mind. “Oh hey, did you know—”

Tommy chuckles. “Darling, do you want to have to start over? Again?”

Buck whines. Tommy can’t expect him to name fifty state capitals and not go on a tangent about any of them…he knows what he’s doing. And, oh fuck, does he know what he’s doing.

When Buck finally makes it to “Cheyenne,” Tommy calls him good boy and pushes three fingers into his eager, spit-soaked hole and Buck comes so hard he passes out.

∗∗∗

When Buck comes to, Tommy’s next to him, propped up on his elbow. He slides a warm washcloth over Buck’s sticky, cooling skin and doesn’t meet his eyes.

Buck stretches and groans. “We should definitely do that again.” Right now, he thinks, and tomorrow, and every day after. 

Tommy stops his movements and tosses the washcloth aside. “I’m not some toy that you can just pick up and play with when you feel like it, Buck.”

Buck’s brain isn’t completely back online yet, and flashes of a forgotten memory rise to the surface: Buck at age ten, bored and rustling through the garage for something to do. Finding a tub of Maddie’s old Barbie dolls and accessories. An hour later, marrying Ken and G.I. Joe in a gazebo. 

Buck faces Tommy, thinking he would be amused by the story, but stops short at the stormy look on his face. Oh, it’s not a game anymore.

Buck sits up. “Are you serious? You broke up with me, remember?”

Tommy makes a move to get up from the bed, but Buck’s faster, pushing him back down with a firm hand on his chest. 

“You decided you were done with me,” Buck grits out as he straddles Tommy’s hips. He shakes his head, even though Tommy won’t look at him. “No that’s not right—you decided I was done with you.” Buck grabs Tommy’s cleft, forcing Tommy to face him.

There’s a flash of warning in Tommy’s eyes. 

“Who the fuck said I was done with you?”

Tommy stays silent, a stubborn set to his jaw, but he doesn’t look away.

Buck brings Tommy’s hands to the top of the bed, interlacing their fingers. “I’m not done with you.”

Tommy doesn’t pull away.

∗∗∗

Buck wakes the next morning, loose-limbed and lighter than he’s felt in months. The strings of anger that had been holding him up effectively cut, all the fight thoroughly sucked and fucked out of him.

There’s a solid wall of muscle and heat at his back, one hand curled possessively around his waist, small puffs of breath against his neck. Buck turns in the embrace. “Tommy?” he says quietly, like Tommy might disappear if the voice of his hope is too loud.

Tommy opens his eyes. “Evan?”

“You stayed.”

“Yeah,” Tommy says, running his hand through Buck’s curls. “ Guess I’m not done with you yet either.”

Also on AO3

[nopainnowhump]

Cracks in the Glass Pt.5

(TW): forced medication, food control and refusal, power dynamics, manipulation, physical restraint, gaslighting, feeding tubes, and emotional distress.

“Do you want something else? Because if you have a preference, I’m sure I can find something else.”

I look at the tray and then at Thomas through the glass. He’s taking a seat after bringing me a dinner tray. I’m not hungry. Actually, that’s a lie. I’m starving, but I won’t eat. I can’t. How dare he? How dare he come here and act like he didn’t just hold me down and force pills down my throat?

I crawl over to the tray and roughly shove it back through the slot in the door, causing the contents to spill on the floor. Thomas takes a deep breath and sighs, keeping his composure as he moves closer to the glass.

"I know you’re upset, and I’m sorry we had to do that, but I need you to understand that we have your best interests at heart. I know it doesn’t seem like it, and I haven’t done anything to earn your trust, but I’m here to help you."

I scoff. I hate this game. What does he want? I turn my back to him and walk toward the bed. Hunger rolls through my stomach.

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

"I don’t know why you’re getting so upset with us," Kyle sneers, his voice thick with mockery. "You should be upset with yourself for not doing what I told you. Three fucking days, I told you for three days that If you didn't eat you were gonna get tubed."

Strong arms lift me off the floor, and I’m too weak to fight back. The sedative is already dulling my senses, leaving my limbs sluggish and unresponsive. My shirt is soaked with tears and snot as I gasp in shallow, rapid breaths. Even as they drag me down the hall, I feebly try to kick at the floor, my movements pathetic and futile.

Kyle leads the way, his smug grin only making me feel smaller. "I gotta say, you’re my favorite patient," he taunts. "You always make my shift more exciting. A little bit of chaos to break up the monotony."

We pass through the double doors of a sterile bed bay. Without ceremony, the guards shove me into a chair, their hands like vices on my arms. I try to slide off, desperation giving me one last burst of energy, but it’s useless. Thick straps tighten across my arms and legs, pinning me down.

My stomach churns violently, but not from fear. The nausea has been unrelenting for days, a cruel aftermath of the experiments. Every bite of food twists in my gut, forcing me to relive the humiliation of throwing up in front of them, helpless and exposed. The mere thought of eating again makes bile rise in my throat.

I let out a weak yelp as Kyle approaches, a feeding tube in his hand. The sight of it makes my nausea worse, and I instinctively turn my head away.

"Now, now," he says mockingly, his voice dripping with condescension. He grabs my jaw roughly, his fingers digging into my skin like claws. I try to pull away, shaking my head weakly, but he holds firm.

"Stay still and be a good girl," he says, his tone turning dark. "Or maybe I’ll let my friends in security have some fun with you. Actually..." He leans in close, his breath hot and sour against my face, his sick grin spreading wider. "I might let them have you anyway, just for making my job harder."

Tears stream down my face as I glare at him, my body trembling. The nausea rises again, my stomach twisting painfully, but I’m too terrified to move.

The grin disappears from his face, replaced by cold fury. His hand cracks across my cheek with a resounding slap, the force jerking my head to the side.

"AGH!" I cry out, my cheek stinging and burning.

"Don’t. Fucking. Move," he growls, his voice icy and full of venom.

He roughly forces the tube down my hitting the back of my throat forcing me to gag. Bile rises at the throat nausea rolling through me.

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

I hear the faint scrape of something against the floor—the tray. I don’t look up, but the soft clinks and rustles tell me he’s cleaning up the mess I made. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t lecture, just quietly gathers the spilled food. Then his footsteps retreat, the heavy door clicking shut behind him.

Good. Let him leave.

Time drags on, the hunger gnawing at me, sharp and insistent. It’s been days. My stomach twists painfully, but I shove the feeling down, clutching the one shred of control I still have. I won’t eat. I can’t.

The door opens again. I stiffen, curling tighter on the bed. This time, there’s no tray. No demands. Just the faint rustle of fabric as he sits down outside the glass, followed by the rhythmic clatter of keys.

Curiosity pulls at me, and I glance over my shoulder. Thomas is sitting with his back against the wall, legs stretched out, his laptop balanced on his knees. He doesn’t look at me, doesn’t speak. He’s just…there. The silence between us stretches, punctuated only by the soft tapping of his keyboard.

Then I hear it—a sharp, crisp crunch that snaps through the quiet. My head turns automatically, catching sight of him mid-bite. He’s eating something, sliding a thin, golden shape from a crinkly bag and popping it into his mouth. Each crunch is loud, almost exaggerated, as he chews.

I narrow my eyes at the bag. I don’t know what it is, but the thought of food, of eating, tightens something in my chest. Not out of hunger—though the ache in my stomach hasn’t gone away—but because of what it means.

If I don’t eat, they’ll force me.

The memory of being strapped down, Kyle’s cruel grin as he shoved the feeding tube in, flashes behind my eyes. My breath quickens, and I shake my head, trying to banish the image. I can’t go through that again.

Thomas notices me watching. He pauses, holding the bag up slightly, as if offering it to me. "You want one?"

I hesitate, staring at him through the glass. My pride screams at me to ignore him, but the pounding of my heart is louder. If I eat—if I prove I’m capable—they won’t have an excuse to strap me down.

Slowly, I crawl toward the slot in the door, my body tense and uncertain. I don’t trust him, but the alternative looms too large in my mind.

Thomas pulls one of the golden shapes from the bag and slides it through the slot. I stare at it for a moment, suspicious and wary, before finally picking it up. It’s thin and rough against my fingers, unlike anything I’ve eaten before.

I glance at him through the glass. He doesn’t move, doesn’t push. He just watches, his expression unreadable.

I bite down cautiously, the loud crunch surprising me. Then the taste hits—salty, rich, and completely unexpected. My eyes widen involuntarily as I chew. I swallow, and the hollow ache in my stomach shifts slightly, the smallest hint of relief breaking through. But it’s not enough.

I slam my fist against the glass, a sharp bang that reverberates through the room. My eyes lock onto the bag in his hand, my demand clear.

Thomas raises an eyebrow. "You want another?"

I pound the glass again, harder this time. A growl escapes my throat, low and frustrated.

"Okay, okay," he says, sliding another chip through the slot.

I snatch it immediately, shoving it into my mouth without hesitation. I barely finish chewing before I slam my fists against the glass again, harder, more insistent.

"Alright, alright!" Thomas raises his hands in surrender, grabbing another chip and passing it through.

The cycle repeats—chip after chip—my demands growing more aggressive each time. I pound the glass with both fists now, my anger and hunger merging into a single, desperate need.

"Easy," he says softly, sliding another chip through. His voice is calm, steady, but his eyes watch me closely, gauging my every move.

Then the bag finally crinkles empty, I let out a scream of frustration, slamming my fists one last time against the glass. Thomas holds up the empty bag, shaking it lightly.

"That’s all I’ve got," he says, his tone light, almost teasing.

My breathing is ragged, my body trembling from the outburst. Frustration boils over, and I collapse onto the floor, screaming and kicking, my fists pounding against the cold concrete.

He doesn’t react right away, just sits back against the wall, watching me with that same infuriating calm. Then, after a moment, he speaks. "Hey, I’ve got an idea." His voice cuts through my screams, steady but not pushy.

I stop kicking for a moment, glaring at him through tear-streaked eyes.

"How about this," he continues. "When I bring you breakfast tomorrow morning, if you eat a couple of bites, I’ll bring you your own bag of chips at lunch."

I freeze, my chest heaving as I process his words. He could be lying. They’ve lied to me before, after all. But…what if he’s not? My gaze flickers toward the empty bag in his hand. The chips were good. Really good. And if he does lie, I’ll just refuse to eat again.

I sniff, wiping my nose roughly on my sleeve, and glance at him. He meets my eyes, his expression open, almost challenging.

"Deal?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.

I hesitate for a long moment before rolling away from him, turning my back to the glass. "Fine," I mutter, my voice muffled.

I hear the faint snap of his laptop closing, followed by the soft rustle of him standing. "It’s been a pleasure doing business with you," he says, a hint of amusement in his voice.

I don’t respond, but I hear him knock lightly on the glass. "I’ll see you tomorrow. Try to get some sleep, okay?"

The sound of his footsteps fades as he walks away, leaving me alone in the silence. I curl up tighter, still unsure if I’ve made the right choice.

I wipe my face. I am kinda tired. I crawl into bed and pull the covers up. The room is quiet now, and my body feels heavy with exhaustion. As I close my eyes, the faint taste of salt still lingers on my tongue.

Chips: the universal peacemaker. Who knew the crunch could be so persuasive? Stay tuned for more!

[lilacerull0]

i would call my dad to apologise, but knowing him it would just hurt him unnecessarily to be reminded of that because he's not really good with bluntness which is what caused this whole thing and the other issue is that i know i will impulsively act like this many times in the future, so i guess the best thing i can do is continue to be as kind to him as i can be

[hauntingblue]

ARCANE EPISODE 7!!!!

MY GOD I WASNT READY FOR ANY OF THIS!!! WHAT WAS THAT!!!

Also ekko wallpaper I got with my fries lmao

[okkennymay]

Speaking of said dad, he went on a lil mini 10 day holiday across the country to Perth to sight see nature and go on a boat ride to see some Orcas (he's retired, it's his way of getting out the house and not turning into an old man potato, and comes back with hundreds of photos of landscapes, plants and flowers and points of historical interests to show my Mum and I, with cool facts and stories in a slideshow~)

Unfortunately i was still sick at the time and didn't get the chance to join my mum in dropping him off at the airport, let alone the chance to give him a big 'ol hug before he left- so I drew him this 💖

You can't escape the 'Ken hugs.

[bittersweetblasphemy]

.

[kohakhearts]

theres a really. special kind of despair in the uncertainty brought about by moments of success and achievement. the inevitable “what now” of reaching your goals. and i kind of wish someone had warned me how hollow graduating university would feel, tbh

[threnodians]

when i feel like absolute trash garbage i either listen to hozier or kendrick lamar which. are two extremely different genres. but hey, both make me feel better and that’s what’s important

[spr1ng]

bro 💔