#apologies for coming in and dropping this
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just a fight (b.c)
hello!! it's been an extremely long time since i've posted any fics on here (or written them)! but i finally got the inspiration to write one for our lovely chris đ€ i saw a tik tok from the new album intro and came up with this idea. i hope you all like it đ„°
feedback is greatly appreciated đ„°
It's about the fourth time in an hour that Chris has checked his phone, the frown on his lips staying there as there's still no texts from you. He releases a sigh before attempting to refocus on the task at hand; recording.
The two of you have been in an argument for the past two days. Longest time the two of you have spent angry at one another. You didn't argue often, so Chris is becoming a bit panicked when you don't text him on the third day.
âHyung,â Changbin's voice snaps Chris from his thoughts, turning in his chair to face the younger member. âIs everything okay? I've never seen you this spaced out.â
Chris provides a fake smile, going to reassure him that everything is okay when his phone vibrates. He picks it up immediately, his heart dropping a bit when it's not you. He swipes away the notification without any thought, not really in the mood to converse with anyone.
âI'm okay, I guess,â he mumbles, setting his phone back on the desk. âUhm, Y/N and I had an argument three days ago andâŠâ Chris trails off, biting his lip to stop himself from crying.
âHave you tried calling?â Changbin asks, motioning for the other staff to give them a minute alone.
Chris blankly stares at the computer screen, moving the mouse around idly. âI get sent to voicemail,â he tells Changbin, not moving his gaze once.
âI'll try calling. This can't go on any longer. You can't work like this,â Changbin sighs, standing up from the couch. The younger member pulls his phone out of his pocket, finding your contact before calling your number.
Chris can hear the phone ringing, his heart beginning to beat a million miles a minute in his chest.
âBin?â Your voice comes through the receiver, causing Chris to gasp lightly. He finally looks over towards Changbin, seeing him hold his phone out.
Take the phone. He motions, holding the device out to him. Chris hesitantly takes the phone as you continue to call out for Changbin.
âY/N?â Chris calls out your name just after Changbin leaves the studio. He can hear your breath hitch at the sound of his voice, and he begins to think you might hang up. âB-Before you hang up⊠can we talk? Please?â
Silence fills the space as he waits for your reply. He swallows the lump in his throat, wondering if he's fucked up one of the good things in his hectic life.
âI'm really sorry, y'know? I've always had the habit of keeping shit to myself. You can ask the guys,â he starts to apologize, staring at your contact name. âI was doing really well on keeping you in tabs of everything, but these past few weeks have been pretty stressful. And, I know that's not a great excuse, but being cooped up in the studio hours on end has brought me back to my old ways. I should've told you what's been going on, but I promise, if you don't leave me that I'll change. I don't want to lose you.â
His heart is in his throat as he waits for you to say something, anything. When he hears you start to cry, his first instinct is for him to run to your apartment. âBabyââ
âHow are you so perfect?â You whisper loud enough for him to hear. You sniffle and clear your throat before speaking again. âI should be so mad at you, Chris. But, youâ you make it impossible to stay mad.â
âI'm sorry?â He mumbles, furrowing his brows in confusion.
A chuckle comes from your end, and his heart skips a beat. âIt's okay. Uhm, are you busy? Is it okay if I come to you, or,â You offer to meet up, making Chris's heart race.
âY-Yeah, no, yeah, you can come by. I'll let the front desk know. Text me when you get here?â He asks, a smile coming to his lips for the first time in three days.
âOf course, handsome. I'll see you soon, okay?â You reassure him.
~
You're nervous as you walk into the JYP building. You know everything's going to turn out okay, but for some reason, the nausea is still there. The receptionist clears you through, and you step into the elevator. After pressing the button for the floor Chris is on, you decided to take some deep breaths.
Your phone vibrates in your hand, seeing a single heart emoji text from Chris. Your heart flutters in your chest, beginning to believe that everything will be alright. The door to the elevator opens up, and you step out, walking in the familiar direction of the studio they're using.
When you round the corner to go down the slim hallway, you find Chris standing at the studio door. You stop in place, meeting his dark eyes. The first thing you notice is the bags under his eyes. A frown comes to your lips at how exhausted he looks.
âBaby,â you mumble and start walking towards him.
âYou look good,â Chris smiles at you, his eyes a little glossy. âI missed you so much.â
Both of you wrap your arms around one another, embracing tightly. You tightly grip the shirt he's wearing as he takes in the scent of your perfume.
âI missed you, too, baby,â you sigh, combing your fingers through his hair with your free hand.
Chris holds on to you as if you'll disappear once he lets go. He moves both of you into the studio before shutting the door, giving you some privacy.
You pull away from him, keeping your hands on his forearms as you look back up at him. âEverything's gonna be okay, okay?â You reassure him, gently stroking his arms.
He nods his head, clearing his throat before wrapping you up in his arms again. âI honestly thought that this was the end, y'know?â He mumbles into your neck, kissing the skin lightly.
âI'm in love with you, Chris. I don't ever want this to end,â you tell him while massaging the back of his head.
His hands slip under the hoodie you're wearing, a breathy sigh leaving his lips at the feeling of your soft skin. You bring your hands to his face, making him look at you before your lips meet his.
Chris moans into the kiss, his grip on your waist tightening. âGod,â he mumbles, pulling away for a quick second. He reconnects his lips to yours, putting some more passion into the kiss. âI love you.â
You can't help but giggle, resting your forehead against his. âYou make me feel like I've got a high school crush, you know that?â You ask him while placing one of your hands to your chest, feeling how fast your heartbeat is.
âI feel the same about you, baby,â he grins, dimples on full display. Chris grabs a hold of your hands as silence fills the room. He intertwines your fingers, keeping his gaze on them.
âYou okay, baby?â You ask him quietly, squeezing his hands. âTalk to me.â
He lifts his head, the smile still there, and he nods. âI'm okay. I'm justâ really happy that you're back and that we're okay,â he releases a deep breath, bringing your hands to his lips, peppering the backs of them in kisses.
âI'm afraid you're stuck with me,â you joke with him.
âI wouldn't want it any other way, baby,â Chris pulls you close to him, capturing your lips in another kiss.
~
tagging: @strawboorybunny @reddesert-healourblues @spacegirlstuff @like-a-diamondinthesky @prettymiye0n @foxinnie8
#bang chan#bang chan imagine#bang chan imagines#bang chan fanfiction#bang chan fanfic#bang chan fic#bang chan x reader#bang chan x y/n#bang chan x you#bang chan fluff#bang chan drabbles#stray kids#stray kids imagine#stray kids imagines#stray kids x y/n#stray kids x reader#stray kids x you#stray kids fanfiction#stray kids fanfic#stray kids fic#stray kids fluff#stray kids drabbles
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â¶â.Ë when you reunite after a long time apart !
pairings : sunday, aventurine, blade, jing yuan, gepard, boothill x reader (separate) | fluff, angst (?)
â Sunday
The room was quiet, filled with the hum of machinery and the soft glow of screens. Sunday sat at the very center, his posture tense as he poured over a map projected on the table. You lingered at the entrance, your heart pounding. After everything, would he even want to see you again? The soft creak of the door caught his attention. His head snapped up, his golden eyes narrowing in suspicion until they locked on yours. For a moment, he simply stared, the silence stretching between you. Then, slowly, he straightened, his guarded expression giving way to disbelief. "You," he breathed, his voice barely audible. "Youâre here." "Sunday," you whispered, stepping closer. He shook his head, as if trying to dispel a dream. "I thought Iâd lost you. I told myself you were gone, that I couldnât waste time hopingâ" His voice broke, and he looked away, his fists clenching at his sides. "I never stopped trying to come back to you," you said, your voice trembling. "Iâm sorry it took so long." He exhaled sharply, his cool slipping. When he looked at you again, his eyes glistened with emotions he rarely let show. "Donât you dare apologize," he said, his voice low and raw. "Youâre here now. Thatâs all that matters." You took the last step, closing the distance between you. Hesitantly, you reached out, and he caught your hand, his grip firm and grounding. "Iâve missed you," you said, tears threatening to spill over. Sundayâs lips pressed into a thin line before he pulled you into a fierce embrace, his arms holding you as if you might vanish. "I missed you, too," he murmured, his voice unsteady. "More than I can ever say."
â Aventurine
Amidst the chaos, Aventurine was a striking presence. He stood at the center of it all, his eyes scanning the bustling crowd with an air of easy confidence. You stood at the edge, hesitant. Would he even want to see you again after all this time? As if drawn by an invisible thread, his gaze shifted and locked onto yours. The world seemed to still. His confident smirk faltered, his posture stiffening as disbelief flickered across his face. You took a tentative step forward, and then another. Before you could reach him, he was already moving, cutting through the crowd with long, purposeful strides. When he finally reached you, he stopped just short, his eyes searching your face as though trying to confirm that you were real. "So," he said, his voice softer than youâd ever heard it, "Penacony finally has a view worth admiring. "You laughed shakily, your throat tight with emotion. "Still the same smooth talker, I see." He smiled faintly. "I thought Iâd lost you," he admitted, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Not a word, not a trace. And now youâre here, walking into my life like itâs the most natural thing in the world." "I was trying to get back to you," you said, your voice trembling. "It just... took longer than I wanted." He reached out, his hand brushing against yours before his fingers wrapped around it. "Youâve got a lot to explain, but weâll get to that," he said, his voice steadier now. His other hand came up to cup your cheek, his touch warm and grounding. "Right now, I just need to know youâre staying." Tears welled in your eyes as you nodded. "Iâm staying. Iâm not leaving again."
â Blade
The ruins of an abandoned space station were eerily silent, with the occasional groan of it settling in the vacuum of space. You pushed open a rusted door, your breath catching when you saw him. Blade stood at the edge of the room, his back facing you, staring out a shattered viewport into the abyss. His sword leaned against the wall beside him, with his shoulders down in a way that seemed uncharacteristically vulnerable. "Blade," you called softly, your voice echoing in the hollow space. He froze. For a long moment, he didnât move, didnât even turn to face you. "I thought it was a ghost," he finally said, his voice rough. When he turned, his crimson eyes locked onto yours, and you could see the storm raging within them. You took a cautious step forward. "Itâs me." His hand clenched into a fist at his side. "Why now?" he demanded, his voice breaking. "Why come back after all this time?" "I never stopped looking for you," you whispered, your heart aching at the pain etched into his features. "Iâm here now." For a moment, he seemed ready to pull away, but then he closed the distance between you in an instant, his arms wrapping around you tightly. "Donât leave me again," he murmured, his voice trembling.
â Jing Yuan
The sunlit garden of the Xianzhou Luofu was tranquil, the scent of blooming flowers mingling with the faint hum of distant bells. Seated beneath a tree, Jing Yuan looked every bit the picture of calm, his white hair catching the golden light as he rested with his eyes closed. You hesitated at the edge of the garden, the sight of him stealing your breath. He hadnât changed, as he is still the composed general he has always been. Yet, as you stepped closer, the faint lines of weariness on his face became clearer, as if time apart had weighed on him just as much as it had on you. "Are you going to stand there all day?" he called suddenly, his voice laced with amusement. His golden eyes opened, meeting yours with an intensity that made your chest tighten. You laughed softly, stepping forward. "I didnât want to disturb your nap." "And yet, youâre the only disturbance Iâve been hoping for." His voice softened as he approached, his usually calm expression hinting a flicker of vulnerability. When he stood before you, he paused, studying your face as if committing every detail to memory. "Itâs been a long time," he said, his voice low, almost hesitant. "Too long," you replied, your throat tightening. Jing Yuanâs hand lifted, his fingers brushing gently against your cheek before settling there. "I wondered if Iâd ever see you again," he admitted, his golden eyes shining with a rare openness. "You donât have to wonder anymore," you said, placing your hand over his. "Iâm here now, and Iâm staying." His lips curved into a faint, genuine smile as he pulled you into a warm embrace, the weight of his arms grounding you. "Then letâs make up for lost time," he murmured, his voice steady, yet filled with quiet emotion.
â Gepard
The city square of Belobog was alive with celebration, the people dancing and singing in the glow of warm lights. You stood at the edge of the crowd, scanning the familiar faces until your eyes landed on him. Gepard was in his full armor, commanding yet approachable as he spoke with a group of citizens. His laugh carried over the noise, and it struck you how much you had missed that sound. As if sensing your gaze, he turned and froze. His usually steady composure faltered, his eyes widening in disbelief. Without excusing himself, he strode toward you, each step faster than the last until he was standing just a breath away. "Is it... really you?" he asked, his voice hushed, as though speaking too loudly would shatter the moment. Tears welled in your eyes as you nodded. "Itâs me, Gepard." His hands trembled as they reached for you, his fingers brushing your arms before pulling you into a crushing embrace. "I waited," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I didnât know if youâd ever come back, but I couldnât stop hoping." "Iâm sorry I kept you waiting," you said, burying your face in his shoulder. "Youâre here now," he murmured, his grip tightening as though he never intended to let go.
â Boothill
The trail stretched out before you, the horizon painted in hues of gold and crimson as the sun dipped low. Boothill was waiting, leaning casually against a wooden frame, his wide-brimmed hat casting a shadow over his face. When you approached, he tipped his hat back, revealing a crooked grin. "Well, ainât this a sight for sore eyes," he drawled, though his voice was tinged with something softer. "Missed me?" you asked, your own smile faltering as emotions bubbled to the surface. "More than I care to admit," he replied, pushing off the post and sauntering toward you. His steps were slow, deliberate, as though savoring the moment. When he reached you, he stopped, his hand lifting to brush a strand of hair from your face. "Thought Iâd never see you again," he admitted, his grin fading. "Iâm sorry," you said, your voice breaking. "I didnât want to leave." His arms wrapped around you then, pulling you close against the warmth of his chest. "Donât matter now," he murmured, his voice low and steady. "Youâre here, and thatâs all I care about."
a/n : i've been enjoying this so much and i would really like to say thank you for the love especially on my recent post hehe, if u have any requests or ideas in mind then feel free to send a message !!! <33
#honkai star rail x reader#honkai star rail#hsr fluff#sunday x reader#sunday x you#aventurine x reader#aventurine x you#blade x reader#blade x you#jing yuan x reader#jing yuan x you#gepard x reader#gepard landau x reader#boothill x reader#boothill x you#i love u all#mwah
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hii i got a request for a luke castellan ficđ€
so i thought of it the other day.. what if its during a capture the flag game but reader and luke get carried away with yk.. making out or smth and they get caught !
do what you want with it, i just thought it could be cuteđ
Friends With Benefits - Luke Castellan
â°ââĄâ° Stoppp I love this so muchâĄ
â§Ë*°àż*â§.âYou and Luke have always been close friends, but lately, things have been a little⊠complicated. You're not quite dating, but you're not just friends either. Stolen kisses here and there, moments where the line between friendship and something more starts to blur. â§. â
The moonlight filtered through the trees, casting dappled patterns on the forest floor. You were supposed to be patrollingâLuke was supposed to be patrollingâbut instead, you were backed against the rough bark of a tree, his lips brushing against yours in a way that sent your thoughts spiraling into chaos.
âLuke,â you mumbled between kisses, though you made no effort to stop him. âWeâre going to get caught.â
He pulled back slightly, his face so close that his breath warmed your skin. His smirk was maddeningly cocky, the kind that made you simultaneously want to shove him and kiss him again. âRelax,â he said, his voice low and full of amusement. âYou worry too much.â
âYou donât worry enough,â you shot back, your hands resting awkwardly on his chest, unsure whether to push him away or pull him closer.
Luke just chuckled, leaning in again, his lips brushing against the corner of your mouth before moving to trail down your jaw. âItâs adorable how you think anyoneâs paying attention to us right now.â
You were about to retort whenâ
âLuke Castellan.â
The sharp voice cut through the quiet of the woods like a blade. Your head snapped toward the source of the sound, and your stomach dropped. Annabeth.
She stood a few feet away, arms crossed and a look of utter disbelief etched on her face. For once, her calculating gaze wasnât directed at some strategic move in Capture the Flagâit was pinned squarely on the two of you.
âOh gods,â you muttered under your breath, stepping away from Luke so fast you nearly tripped over a root.
Luke, on the other hand, didnât seem the least bit fazed. He leaned casually against the tree, his arms crossed over his chest, and gave Annabeth his most infuriating grin. âHey, Annabeth,â he said, as if sheâd just caught him skipping chores and not...well, this.
ââHey, Annabeth?ââ she repeated, her voice rising slightly. Her eyes flicked between you and Luke, her expression a mix of shock, confusion, and something that looked suspiciously like secondhand embarrassment. âWhat the hell was that?â
You opened your mouth to explainâor maybe apologizeâbut no sound came out. Your face was burning so hot you were sure it could rival Apolloâs chariot.
âWe were just...uh...â Luke began, his grin widening as he glanced at you.
âDonât,â Annabeth interrupted, holding up a hand. âDonât even try to explain.â
Luke shrugged, clearly enjoying himself. âAlright, if you insist.â
âLuke!â you hissed, swatting his arm.
âWhat?â he said, feigning innocence. âIâm not lying. She told me not to explain.â
Annabeth groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. âI cannot believe this. You two are supposed to be best friends.â
âWe are,â Luke said, the casual tone in his voice almost convincing.
âBest friends donât...â Annabeth gestured vaguely between the two of you, clearly at a loss for words.
You wanted to sink into the ground and disappear forever. âThis isnâtâitâs notââ
âNot what it looked like?â Annabeth supplied, raising an eyebrow.
You nodded furiously, though you werenât entirely sure what you were agreeing to.
Luke, ever the opportunist, slung an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off him. âCome on, Annabeth,â he said, his tone light and teasing. âCanât two best friends share a kiss now and then without it being a big deal?â
âNo!â Annabeth snapped, her face incredulous. âNo, they canât!â
âWell,â Luke said, his smirk practically glowing in the dark, âguess we missed the memo.â
Annabeth threw her hands up in frustration. âYouâre both unbelievable.â She turned on her heel and stalked back toward the creek, muttering something about idiocy and never being able to unsee things.
As soon as she was out of earshot, you turned to Luke, your jaw dropping. âWhat is wrong with you?â
âNothing,â he said, his expression far too pleased with himself. âThat went better than I expected.â
âBetter?â you repeated, your voice a mix of disbelief and mortification. âSheâs never going to let us live this down.â
âProbably not,â Luke agreed, his grin softening into something almost fond as he looked at you. âBut hey, at least now you know what you're dealing with.â
âAnd what exactly am dealing with?â you asked, narrowing your eyes at him.
Lukeâs gaze flicked briefly to your lips before meeting your eyes again. âA best friend who doesnât play by the rules.â
You rolled your eyes, but the warmth in your chest betrayed you. âYouâre insufferable.â
âAnd yet, here you are,â he teased, leaning in just enough that your noses brushed.
You shoved him lightly, though the smile tugging at your lips was impossible to hide. âCome on,â you said, grabbing his wrist and pulling him in the direction of the creek. âLetâs actually do our job before we get caught again.â
âWhatever you say, best friend,â he said, his laughter echoing through the trees as he followed you.
â§. â âSend requests! :)
#percy jackson#pjo#pjo hoo#heroes of olympus#percy jackson fandom#percy jackson imagine#percy jackson x reader#pjo fandom#pjo imagines#pjo headcanon#book percy jackson#percy jackon and the olympians#rick riordan#annabeth chase#riordanverse#luke castellan smut#luke castellan x reader#luke castellan pjo#luke castellan fanfic#luke castellan#luke castellan x y/n#luke castellan x you#pjo x reader#y/n#luke castellan fluff#pjo hoo toa#luke castellan angst#pjo series#capture the flag#luke castellan imagine
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it's silly, but...
"sorry, we aren't eating spicy food right now." soonyoung says it over the phone to mingyu who, from what you heard because the call is on speaker, is trying to pawn off leftovers to soonyoung. not you, because your wisdom teeth just came out, and it'll aggravate it now. you look up from your phone, your heart warm at the notion.
we. we aren't doing this. we are in this together. you think you might cry. soonyoung's already explaining it to him: you can't have it, so he won't eat it, either: not directly in front of you while you're missing it this much already. you think this means he might indulge himself if he goes out without you, but you don't mind that. hell, you really hope he does if that's what he wants.
mingyu laughs after a moment, after soonyoung has apologized a few too many times. "no, it's fine," he says. "i'll ask vernon. are they craving anything that i can make?"
soonyoung looks at you when he thinks you're not looking or listening. "um... i think anything soft is good. they're miserable right now. i think i'll have to let anything hot cool down first, but... i think they'd appreciate it."
mingyu lets out a hum of affirmation. "i'll pull something together and drop by."
you fight back a smile as you listen to soonyoung thank him more than a few times before saying he'll talk to him again later. he comes over, bottle of pills in hand, and sets them down on the coffee table so that he can move your legs and sit underneath them. he drops them back into your lap, still holding on.
"is it bothering you?" he gestures toward his jaw. "i can get you something to eat so you can take your medicine..."
"i love you."
he blinks a few times. "... huh?"
"you don't have to cut out the stuff you enjoy for me." you reach out, pinching his cheek a little. "i don't mind. i'm an adult."
he pouts a little. "i'm not cutting them out completely," he says, one hand squeezing your ankle a little. "just when i'm with you. it'd be mean to sit in front of you and eat anything i know you want." he's sheepish now, eyes drifting away from you. "i like sharing with you. so... whenever we eat together," he meets your gaze again, "i'll eat only things i know you hate. okay?"
despite the tiny way your jaw aches now, you lean in, pressing a quick peck against the corner of his lips. it's clumsy, but still just as sweet, and it sends him into giggles nonetheless as he leans in to pepper your face with kisses as gently as he can.
"we're in this together," he says when he pulls back. he extends his pinky, beaming at you more when it makes you smile. "okay? we're a team."
you just giggle through the pain and lock your pinky around his own, taking the chance to steal one more kiss from him.
#nonranghaes.thoughts#seventeen x reader#nonranghaes.svt#svt x reader#seventeen imagine#svt imagine#seventeen x you#svt x you#hoshi x reader#hoshi x you#hoshi x y/n#kwon soonyoung x reader#kwon soonyoung x you#seventeen fluff#hoshi fluff#soonyoung fluff#kwon soonyoung fluff#svt fluff#AAAUUGUHGHG I MISS SPICY FOOD!!!! I MISS FOOD IN GENERAL !!!!!#PUDDING AND YOGURT AND JELLO IS NICE BUT I MISS MORE FLAVOR!!!!!#im gonna very gently try my best with some soup today.... im gonna let it cool down a lot first tho#its egg drop soup so nothing hard to eat no chewing just sippy#i wish it could be wonton egg drop soup :(
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đ content warning: smut, praise, jealousy, masturbation, oral (f! & m!receiving), edging, begging, unprotected sex, light choking, sub!pizzaboy!chris, dom!boss!reader
đ author's note: this series follows sub!pizzaboy!chris and his tendency to mix business and pleasure. in part one, he sleeps with a customer after delivering pizza to her. in part two, he sleeps with a cop that pulls him over for speeding. now he must use his magnetic charm to seduce his boss to avoid getting in trouble for coming back late from a delivery.
đ summary: you can't help but get a little jealous when you find out your favorite employee, chris, has been sharing his meat with everyone but you.
pizza guy part three
"That delivery should have only taken twenty minutes. Why did it take you an hour and a half?" You inquired, peering up from the nightly paperwork at Chris, who had just walked through the front door of the otherwise empty pizza shop.
He could immediately feel the tension in the air, thick and suffocating. The last thing he wanted to do was upset you.
Chris was your best employee when he wanted to be, but he was constantly pushing the boundaries with you and taking advantage of how much you let him get away with. You could never fire him, though, and he knew that.
He had too many redeeming qualities. He was always covering shifts, bringing in good reviews, and working without complaining. He was also extremely polite and had a lot of respect for authority, always calling you ma'am and asking what you needed from him.
Chris' only downfall was that he couldn't help but mix business and pleasure - always getting high on the job and entertaining the women who were metaphorically lined up for him in between deliveries and sometimes on deliveries.
He always had a good excuse, though. And when he didn't have an excuse, he'd turn on the charm. He saw the way you looked at him, your hungry gaze that would linger for a few seconds too long, and he recognized the need in your voice, every word coated with lust. He knew that in your eyes, he could do no wrong. He had you wrapped around his finger, and he wasn't above using that to his benefit.
"Chris. Where the hell have you been?" You repeated, interrogating him. "Sorry, ma'am.." he apologized, forcing a pout. "I got pulled over," which wasn't technically a lie. "Oh, Chris. You poor thing," you responded, your tone immediately changing as you walked over to him, giving the sweet boy a hug.
"Did you get a ticket?" You wondered, cradling his flushed face. "No, ma'am. Almost. I think the police officer has a little bit of a crush on me," Chris said, his blue eyes flickering back up at yours as he tried to hold back a smirk. Can't blame her, you thought, studying his handsome features as his seemingly innocent smile stared back at you.
You detected a scent on Chris, one you could recognize anywhere and one you'd already addressed with him. "Chris. Are you stoned right now?" You glared at him, looking at the redness in the whites of his eyes, dropping your hand from his face. "What?! No!" He objected defensively, avoiding eye contact.
"There's no way you just got pulled over. If a cop looked at you for longer than two seconds, you'd be in the back of the cop car in cuffs right now. I bet you were at your dealer's house," you accused him, crossing your arms over your chest.
"I'm not lying, ma'am. She did put me in cuffs," Chris responded, his cock stirring in his jeans as he recounted the events that took place earlier in the night. "You mean to tell me, you went from being cuffed to walking away without even getting a ticket?" You shot him a skeptical look.
He showed you his wrists, pointing out the red marks left behind from the metal that dug into them under the weight of himself and the cop while she riding him. "Don't worry about how I got off, ma'am. All's that matters is that I did," Chris responded, his gaze locked on yours.
You bit down on your lip, imagining Chris in restraints, offering to do anything to keep a clean driving record. You knew it was wrong. After all, he was your subordinate, but that was another reason you could never fire him.
He was so hot, and he knew it. He had this way of looking at you and talking to you when he knew he was about to get into trouble that immediately made you melt. You couldn't stay mad at him. Not even if you wanted to.
"Chris, you gotta be careful. I don't care you if you smoke weed, but you can't keep doing it on the job! You could have gotten yourself into big trouble tonight!" You jabbed your finger into his chest, giving him a serious look.
The truth was, you'd bail him out of jail if you could, but as much as you wanted to protect Chris from the consequences of his actions, you could only do so much when it came to the law. "I'm only hard on you because I care about you," you whispered, caressing his cheek.
"I know, but it makes me feel so good. Don't you like things that make you feel good, ma'am?" Chris asked, a bit of seduction seeping into his tone. You stood in silence for a moment, studying his pretty blue eyes and his pouty lips as he looked you up and down. You avoided his question.
"You know, Chris. I read a really interesting review someone left a while back about you while you were gone," you smirked, sauntering back over to your desk and pulling up the review on the computer. "Was it a good one?" He wondered, his facial features softening as he hoped you were about to start praising him.
"I don't know, you tell me. 'Their driver, Chris, has the best Italian sausage in town. He always goes the extra mile to please the customer,'" you read it word-for-word. "What could she have meant by that, huh?" You wondered with a bit of jealousy lingering on the tip of your tongue.
"I think she just really liked my meat, ma'am. I mean, the shop's meat," he corrected himself, giving you another sultry smile. "Is it the shop's meat? Because I certainly haven't been getting any," you remarked, glancing down at the outline of his half-hard cock in his jeans.
"Oh, ma'am. It would be so wrong," Chris purred, secretly enticed by the moral complexity of the idea of sleeping with his boss. His eyes dropped to your figure as his imagination took over, picturing how certain parts of your body would jiggle while riding him.
"Makes it even hotter, doesn't it? How wrong it is? What do I have to do to get a taste of your meat, huh?" You asked, getting up from your desk and slowly making your way towards him again. "All's you have to do is ask, ma'am," Chris responded with allure in his tone, taking a step closer to you.
"Well, I finished everything while you were getting pulled over," you smirked. "Why don't you come home with me, sweetie? It's the least you could do. I'll take really good care of you," you flirtatiously responded, leaning in and kissing his neck. You took both his hands and placed them on your waist.
"Oh, yes, ma'am. Please take me home with you. Take good care of me," he whimpered as he tilted his head to the side to give you better access, immediately giving into your advances.
Your lips were so soft, and Chris couldn't get enough of the way they felt on the sensitive nerve endings on his neck, sending blood rushing to the tip of his cock as a few luscious moans escaped.
"Oh, you like that, don't you?" You cooed, running your fingers along the bulge in his pants as your kisses grew slower, deeper, and more passionate. "Yes, ma'am," Chris mewled, grinding against your palm.
"Down, boy," you said, smiling and petting his package through his jeans as you retreated from kissing his neck. He nearly sobbed when you pulled away. "Oh, ma'am. You're so cruel. Getting me all riled up when we still have a long drive ahead of us," he whispered, already feeling lightheaded from the way you handled him.
"You were cruel first. Leaving me here all alone while you entertain other women. Don't you know how bad I need you here with me, Chris?" You wondered, your words drenched in envy as you delicately ran your hand across his chest.
Of course, you meant it in a professional sense, needing him at the store to help you close up, but you also meant it in a much more primal sense, and he did know. He'd known for a while now, but Chris wasn't the type to make the first move. He'd been waiting for you to finally say it. He nodded.
"Show me how bad you need me," he seductively whispered, tempting you. "Let's lock up, shall we?" You said, taking Chris by the hand, leading him towards the front door, and shutting off all the lights on your way out.
The two of you stepped out into the dark, chilly night, the breeze biting at your nose and stinging your lungs as you inhaled. You slipped the key into the lock, turning it until it clicked, and you tugged on the freezing cold handle for good measure.
Chris followed you to your nice, shiny, black SUV and climbed into your passenger seat. You started the ignition, your engine roaring as it turned over. You turned on the heat, placing your palm in front of the fan, waiting for the air to warm up.
Chris was still rock hard, his eager cock straining against the denim fabric he wore and his mind swirling with the possibilities of what you were going to do with him once the two of you made it back to your place.
"So, what really happened with that cop?" You deviously wondered, glaring at him before looking back at the road you started down. Chris blushed. "She handcuffed me and put me in the back of her car. Then whatever you think happened is probably what happened next," Chris smugly suggested.
You bit your lip, letting your imagination run wild. "And the customer, Chris? You naughty boy," you clicked your tongue at him, shaking your head. His head fell lazily against the headrest as he peered over at you with a submissive expression.
"Ma'am. I promise I'm a good boy. I don't have a naughty bone in my body," Chris lustfully responded, his cock beginning to twitch in his pants as his eyes danced over your lips, imagining how they'd feel wrapped around him. "Well, maybe one," he quietly admitted, shifting around, trying to adjust his aching erection.
"Take it out for me, Chris," you demanded. "Right now?" He asked, an upward inflection in his voice as his brows flew up. "Yes. Show me that pretty cock that the girls can't get enough of, hmm?" You hissed, placing your hand on his thigh and making it jump again. "Yes, ma'am," he nodded, unclasping his belt, undoing his button, and lowering his zipper.
Your eyes shifted between the road and his dick, favoring one more than the other as he started to pull it out. Your eyes widened and your jaw fell slightly open at the sight. "You like what you see, ma'am?"
You couldn't find the words to describe just how much you did, so you settled for a subtle nod. Its size was intimidating and intriguing all at the same time. He went to wrap his long fingers around his veiny shaft, but you swatted his hand away.
"Ah, ah, ah. I didn't say you could play with it," you teased him. He gave you a pout, his brows turning up in a look of anguish. "But I need it," Chris whined.
"I thought you said you were a good boy, hmm? Don't good boys listen and do what they're told?" You purred, playing upon Chris' praise kink and his need for your approval. He hesitantly nodded. "Then behave, Chris." You lightly patted his thigh again, driving him mad with your touch. "Yes, ma'am," he mumbled.
"Why don't we play a game? And if you're a good boy and play the game correctly, then I'll let you touch with it," You suggested, running your tongue along the inside of your teeth. "What kind of game?" Chris wondered, eager to let his hands wander below his waist.
"The kind of game where you tell me what happened with that customer who left that review while you stroke yourself, but you have to do exactly as I say. And you better listen and tell me exactly what happened or else you're in big trouble," you told him.
"But ma'am, I'm gonna get in trouble with you anyway," Chris quietly pouted, worried you were going to fire him for lying about his slashed tires that night.
"Oh, Chris. You could never be in trouble with me as long as you tell the truth," you cooed, softly running the back of your hand along his cheek. "You promise?" He timidly asked. "I promise," you replied, and you meant it.
"Go ahead, Chris. Start touching it," you voiced, giving him permission. His hand moved towards his cock, firmly gripping it, and he let out a relieved sigh as he started slowly stroking.
"So, tell me, Chris. Who instigated the interaction? You or her?" You interrogated him, glancing between the road and his swollen head, a wet patch forming on the front of your panties. "She did, ma'am," Chris told you.
"Did you go inside her house?" You asked, raising an eyebrow at him. "I know I'm not supposed to, but.." Chris started to say. "But what? Answer me, Chris."
"Yes, ma'am. I did go into her house," Chris whimpered, his gaze meeting yours. "How'd she get you to stay, hmm?" You purred, watching Chris' facial features soften as he relaxed into his pleasure.
"She made me a cup of hot cocoa and started kissing my neck. She told me to call you and give you an excuse as to why I couldn't come back to work. Told me she'd make it worth it," Chris admitted, looking nervously at you with his blue eyes.
You gasped. "You naughty boy," you narrowed your gaze at him, a little annoyed that he had faked an excuse to get out of work but a little turned on by the fact that he'd done it to get his dick wet. "She made me call you while she was sucking me off," Chris replied, a smirk forming in the corner of his pink lips.
"You called me while she sucked you off?" You repeated what he just told you to make sure you heard him correctly. You squeezed your thighs together as you pictured him on the phone with you while he had his cock in another woman's mouth. "Mhmm," Chris nodded, pumping his length faster as it quivered against his palm.
"Slow down, Chris. You're gonna have to make yourself last a long time, so don't get too carried away," you smirked at him, thinking about how long you were gonna make him wait to finish. He took a deep breath and slowed the pace. "That's very naughty of you, sweetie," you responded in a voice just above a whisper.
The rest of the drive to your destination, you teased Chris, trying to extract information from him about his most recent sexual encounters, and he spilled the details to you relunctantly. Despite his hesitancy, his cock gave him away, jerking at every word you spoke that jogged his memory.
"Did she ride you, Chris?" You provocatively asked, and you watched it twitch again, listening closely as a soft whine passed through his lips. "I think she did.." you answered your own question, giving him a playful smile.
"You like it when the girl's in charge, don't you? You love to be bossed around in bed," you insinuated, and you watched Chris blush and nod in response as he ran the tip of his thumb through his precum, spreading it around on his sensitive head.
The banter between you and Chris was enticing to say the least, and the whole time you were soaking wet, buzzing with excitement about what Chris would be like in bed and how good his pretty dick would feel lodged inside of you while you bounce up and down on it.
You saw how close he was getting as you turned onto your street, and before he could finish, you stopped him. "Be a good boy, Chris. Put it away for a second. His eyes were filled with hurt and desperation, but he nodded and did as he was told.
Once you pulled into your garage, you turned to Chris, gently grabbing onto his hair and pulling his face just a few inches from yours as you locked your hungry gaze onto his.
"Look. Normally, I'd invite you in, give you something to drink, offer you something to eat, show you around. I don't have the fucking patience for that right now, Chris. What we're gonna do is go straight to my room, and you're gonna be a good boy for me and let me use you however I want for as long as I want. Got it?" You demanded.
Chris obediently nodded, his face conveying desire. You took Chris' hand, leading him in through your warm and cozy house that smelled like apple cinammon. You guided him up your stairs and into your bedroom.
You pulled him into a passionate kiss, your mouth crashing into his as the sexual tension between the two of you built to an all-time high. His pretty moans vibrated against your lips as you reached under his shirt, your fingertips brushing against his hip bones as you hooked them onto the hem of the material.
You pulled away long enough to pull his uniform off over his head, and you quickly dropped to your knees. Chris looked down at you, wetting his lips as he silently begged you with his eyes to do what he thought you were going to do. You unbuttoned his jeans, slid the zipper down, and pulled down his pants and his underwear.
You opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue as if you were getting ready to please his cock, but you couldn't let him finish without a little more teasing. Instead, you retreated, standing to your feet as a look of disappointment seeped into Chris' expression.
It was just as hard for you as it was for him. You'd imagined this scenario a hundred times, and you couldn't wait to hear the pretty sounds he'd make while you suck on it, but the fact that you'd been waiting so long for it, made you want to savor every moment, every kiss, every touch..
You gently pushed him back onto your bed, and his eyes danced over you while he propped himself up on his elbows as you shed off your own layers, letting them fall to your feet. You climbed on top of him, pulling him into another passionate kiss as the two of you rolled around on your silky soft sheets.
"Be a good boy for me, Chris. Let me sit on your pretty face," you demanded from him, but it didn't take much persuasion. "Oh, yes, ma'am. You don't have to tell me twice," Chris eagerly replied as you gently pushed him down, guiding him to lie flat on his back.
You straddled his face, placing your knees on either side of his head and lowering your pussy onto his mouth. He wrapped his arms around your thighs, pulling you as close to him as possible as his tongue explored your folds, flickering back and forth over your sensitive clit.
You entangled your fingers in his messy hair, and you gently tugged on it, causing him to moan against you while his eyes rolled back in his head. The vibration that passed through his lips reverberated against your vulva, pleasure rushing through you.
You gently rocked your hips back and forth, riding Chris' face and grinding against his silky, wet tongue. You peered down into his gorgeous blue eyes as you combed through his brown locks. "You're such a good boy, Chris," you whispered, enjoying the feeling of his lips as he wrapped them around your bundle of nerves and started tenderly sucking on it.
"Yes, sweetheart. Just like that," you encouraged him. He nuzzled into your heat, relishing in the lovely sounds that left your lips and the way you rutted against his face, all testaments to how good he was making you feel. He could eat you for hours.
He reached up and grabbed your breasts, gently rolling your nipples between the pads of his fingers. He moaned against your clit a few more times as he delicately sucked on it, rapidly flicking his tongue against it. You felt pressure building in your lower stomach as you tightened the grip of your thighs around Chris' head.
"Good boy," you whimpered again, your body beginning to shiver as your pleasure reached a crescendo. His cock twitched at your praises, and his hands moved to your waist, stabilizing you as he admired the way you looked from this angle.
He took your clit between his lips and gently tugged on it until you were coming undone. You threw your head back and started fervently grinding against his face, losing yourself in your orgasm as you released onto his tongue.
He lapped up every last bit of your wetness, savoring the sweetness that filled his senses. Once you were completely satisfied, he removed his mouth from your pussy. "Did I do a good job, ma'am?" Chris asked, his big, blue eyes staring back at yours with his chin covered in your juices.
"Oh, sweetheart. You always do. You were perfect. Such a good boy," you purred breathlessly as you ruffled his hair once more, starting to lift yourself off of him. "Get comfortable, sweetie. Let me take care of you," you cooed.
"Yes, please," he politely answered, nestling among your mess of pillows and propping himself up against your headboard. He loved it when you took charge. He kept his eyes locked on yours as you placed yourself between his legs.
He'd been hard for the past hour, desperate for you to take it into your mouth, but you were still savoring every moment, and he secretly adored all the teasing. You drew a line from the base of his dick all the way up his length with your soft tongue, and it twitched in response.
You gently kissed his tip, slurping up the shiny, clear fluid that was slowly leaking out as you slowly stroked his dick. He let out a soft, pleasured sound as your tongue made contact with all his sensitive nerve endings, and you started delicately flicking it across his swollen, pink head.
"How's that?" You asked in a soft voice. "So good," he whined as you started combining the two techniques, sucking on it while your tongue got to work, fluttering around in the best-feeling places. Pretty noises poured from his lips as you took him into your mouth, bobbing your head up and down slowly on his length and learning every vein with your tongue.
He smiled down at you and tenderly placed his hand on the back of your head, silently asking you to take more of him. You listened by sliding your lips all the way down his shaft until he was hitting the back of your throat. He gasped as you took it all so effortlessly. "How'd you learn to do that, ma'am?" He whimpered, peering down at you wide-eyed and breathing heavily as you chuckled, humming around the base.
You sped up your movements, sloppily drooling and making a mess all over his cock. "Please let me cum. Please," Chris moaned, his luscious voice spilling into the air. Despite how politely he asked, you took him out of your mouth long enough to give him a smirk and shake your head no.
"Please, please, please," his jagged breaths becoming whiny and needy. You ignored his begging and continued your pace, bringing him dangerously close to the edge before withdrawing all stimulation. He let out a few strangled moans as his cock twitched some more, begging to be sucked on again.
You loved how responsive he was and how his body language reacted to every subtle touch. You wrapped your lips around him again, and a stream of lustful noises flowed from him. You looked into his blue eyes that were silently pleading with you. You could see how desperate he was, which made you want to edge him even more.
"Please," he whispered again as if you didn't hear him the first half a dozen times he asked for you to let him finish. "You're going to have to be a good boy and wait," you teased him, removing your mouth again and shifting around on the bed. He responded with a subtle nod.
You began to straddle him, guiding his rod towards your entrance, and you let out a delighted hum as you lowered yourself down onto him. Chris' head gently fell back and tapped the headboard as you squelched around him.
"Oh, Chris. You're so big," you moaned. "So I've been told," Chris chuckled. He couldn't help how much that compliment stroked his ego. You started to ride him, your breasts bouncing in his face as he latched onto your nipples, tenderly sucking on each one. His hands wandered towards your ass, and he squeezed your soft flesh, whimpering against your chest.
"Good boy," you praised him as you ran your fingers through his hair, massaging his head. You leaned down and started sucking on a sensitive place on his neck, and he whined into your ear as he tried to hold on while you were actively working against him. "Please let me cum," he asked again patiently and politely with desire in his expression.
"Not yet, pretty boy," you cooed into the crook of his neck as you continued lightly sucking on it. Whimpers escaped his mouth as you picked up the pace, your strides becoming faster and rougher. He wasn't sure how much more he could take, but he tried to hold on to please you.
He was always able to hold the different perspectives of you in his mind, both the professional view he had of you and the sexual desire he felt toward you. He couldn't help but delight in the way the two versions of you merged in front of him. He'd always loved how bossy you were, but the way you were ordering him around in bed gave your bossy nature a whole new meaning to him, and he adored it.
He loved the way you bounced on him, your moans becoming louder and more urgent. He could feel you clenching around his cock, which made it even harder for him to fend off his long-awaited orgasm.
"Please, please, please," he begged some more, losing his composure. "Please let me cum, ma'am," he sweetly requested, his dick already beginning to throb inside of you. He wasn't exactly asking for your permission but more or less warning you that he couldn't hold off anymore.
"Yeah? You wanna cum?" You asked, peering into his bedroom eyes and examining his flushed, pink cheeks and the way he kept licking his lips. "More than anything, ma'am," he whimpered, his eyelids growing heavy and his mouth falling open.
"Only because you've been such a good boy," you commented, caressing his jawline with your thumb and moving your hand to his throat. You gripped his neck, lightly choking him which sent him over the edge.
A few strangled moans passed through his lips as his eyes rolled back and his head gently thumped against the headboard again. His climax hit him like a freight train, barreling through him and sending a jolt of pleasure through his whole body.
He shot his load up into you as you finished onto him, the room filling with both of your satisfied sounds. You involuntarily dug your nails into the flesh of his neck, intensifying how good it felt for him. You slumped forward, pulling him into a warm embrace as you throbbed around him.
"Chris, I've been wanting to do that forever," you breathlessly whispered into his ear. "Maybe I should make you jealous more often, huh? It really seems to get your attention," Chris smugly remarked, smirking at you. "Oh, sweetie. You don't have to try to get my attention. You just always have it."
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#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo smut#sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo#chris sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo x you#chris sturniolo fanfic#chris sturniolo x reader#christopher sturniolo#christopher owen sturniolo#sub chris sturniolo
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Out of Line
sevika and vi X reader
SUMMARY: SET IN A UNIVERSE WHERE VI WAS THE ONE SILCO HAD ADOPTED : You were being brat yet again, pushing buttons like it was second nature. Sevika, Silco's ever-loyal enforcer, had finally had enough of your antics. And ViâSilcoâs fiery, rebellious daughterâdecided sheâd join in on teaching you a lesson you wouldnât soon forget. WARNINGS: reader is cuffed & chained, use of brat, bunny, doll, sweet girl to refer to r, referring to strap-on as cock, dick, not proofread AT ALL A/N: this is pretty short, wrote this while on the way home from a short trip so i apologize for any mistakes, feel free to correct them! (also i had like one glass of wine but i'm very light weight so... maybe i'm not a good writer drunk, idk we will see)
based off of this ask
MINORS AND MEN DNI / word count : 1.1k
âYou fucked up. Again.â
Sevikaâs voice sliced through the tension in the air, sharp and unforgiving. Her arms were crossed, her broad frame looming over you like a stormcloud ready to break.
âI donât know if youâre actually stupid,â she continued, each word drenched in contempt, âor if you just enjoy acting reckless.â
You rolled your eyes, leaning back against the wall with a casual shrug. âOh, come on, Sev. Donât be so dramatic.â
Her jaw clenched. âYouâre lucky Silco lets your ass off scot-free every time. Anyone else wouldâve had you strung up by now.â
âLucky me,â you muttered, smirking despite the growing weight of her glare. Youâd pushed too far, you knew itâbut you werenât about to back down. Not now.
Sevika stepped closer, her voice dropping to a growl. âI swear, one day, someoneâs gonna teach you what happens when you step out of line.â
A snort sounded from the doorway. âSomeone like us?â
You glanced over to see Vi leaning against the frame, arms crossed, her scarred eyebrow raised in amusement.
âLooks like the bunnyâs been causing trouble again,â she said, her lips quirking into a smirk. âWhatâd she do this time?â
âSheâs got a mouth on her,â Sevika muttered. âThinks she can get away with anything.â
Viâs gaze flicked to you, her expression half-amused, half-predatory. âMaybe itâs time we made sure she learns her lesson.â
Vi and Sevika exchanged wicked grins as they loomed over your restrained form. The cool metal of the handcuffs bit into your wrists, keeping you spread eagled on the bed. Vi's strap-on glistened as she positioned herself between your thighs."Ready for a ride, doll?" Vi purred, her eyes gleaming with lust.Â
Without waiting for a response, she thrust forward, burying the thick silicone cock deep inside your pussy. You gasped at the sudden fullness, your back arching off the bed.
"A-ah... I'm-" you muttered, struggling to get words out.
Sevika chuckled darkly, her own strap-on bobbing in front of your face. "You need to learn your fucking lesson," she growled, gripping your hair and guiding your mouth to her cock. "Let's see how well you can multitask."
As Vi began a relentless rhythm, pounding into you with practiced skill, Sevika pushed her strap-on past your lips. The taste of silicone filled your mouth as she started to fuck your face, her hips rolling in tandem with Vi's thrusts.
The room filled with the obscene sounds of flesh slapping against flesh, muffled moans, and the women's breathless laughter.
Vi and Sevika continued their relentless assault,their movements synchronized and merciless. Vi's hips pistoned forcefully, driving her strap-on deep into your dripping cunt with each thrust. Meanwhile, Sevika's grip on your hair tightened as she fucked your mouth, sliding in and out between your lips."This'll teach you to act," Vi growled, her voice husky with exertion and arousal."But look at you, taking it like a good girl. You're loving this, aren't you?"
Sevika chuckled darkly, momentarily pulling out to let you gasp for air. "I think our sweet girl is enjoying her punishment a bit too much," she remarked, noticing your flushed cheeks and the way your body responded to their ministrations."Maybe we need to step it up a notch," Vi suggested with a wicked grin, increasing her pace. The wet sounds of her strap-on plunging into your soaked pussy filled the room.
Your muffled moans and the way your body writhed against your restraints only seemed to spur them on further. Despite the rough treatment, it was clear that pleasure was rapidly building within you, your body betraying your enjoyment of this "lesson."
Vi leaned in close, her breath hot against your ear as she continued her relentless thrusting. "Remember this feeling," she purred, her voice dripping with dark satisfaction."Every time you think about crossing us, remember how we made you squirm."
Sevika pulled her strap-on from your mouth again, allowing you a moment to gasp and moan unrestrainedly. Your cries of pleasure echoed off the walls, betraying just how much you were enjoying this "punishment."
"Listen to those pretty sounds," Sevika taunted, running a finger along your jawline. "I think our lesson is sinking in quite nicely, don't you agree, Vi?"
Vi responded by increasing her pace even further, the wet slapping sounds growing louder and more frantic."Oh, I think so," she grunted, her fingers digging into your hips."But let's make sure it really sticks."
Your body tensed and trembled, teetering on the edge of an intense climax. The dual sensations of Vi's relentless pounding and Sevika's teasing touches were quickly becoming overwhelming."What do you say, brat?" Sevika asked, her voice low and dangerous. "Have you learned your lesson yet? Or do we need to keep teaching you?"
Vi and Sevika smoothly switched positions, their movements fluid and practiced. Sevika took her place between your legs, her strap-on glistening with your saliva as she lined it up with your dripping entrance. Vi straddled your face, her artificial cock hovering just above your lips.
"Enjoying too much, bunny?" Sevika growled, slamming her hips forward and burying her strap-on deep inside you. The sudden fullness made you cry out in pleasure, your voice muffled as Vi took advantage of your open mouth to push her cock past your lips.
The two women set a punishing pace, their bodies moving in perfect synchronization. Sevika's thick strap-on stretched and filled you, hitting all the right spots with each powerful thrust. Meanwhile, Vi's hips rolled rhythmically, fucking your mouth with abandon."Fuck, look at how wet she is," Sevika panted, her eyes fixed on where your bodies joined. "I think youâre enjoying this lesson a little too much, huh doll?âÂ
âMmmmff- God!â The relentless stimulation quickly pushed you to the brink. Your body tensed, muscles clenching around Sevika's strap-on as waves of pleasure crashed over you.
Vi and Sevika paused momentarily, panting heavily as they watched your intense release. Your body shuddered and convulsed, a gush of clear fluid erupting from your pulsing pussy. The sight seemed to ignite their arousal even further.
"Fuck, that was hot," Vi growled, her eyes dark with lust."But we're not done with you yet."
Sevika chuckled, slowly withdrawing her now-soaked strap-on. "Far from it. I think our brat here needs a more... hands-on approach."
The women exchanged knowing glances before turning their full attention back to you. Their hands began to roam your sensitive, trembling body, fingers exploring every curve and crevice.
"Let's see how many more times we can make you cum," Vi purred, her skilled fingers finding your still-throbbing clit."The night's still young, after all."
Sevika's mouth latched onto one of your nipples, her tongue swirling teasingly. "And we've got plenty more lessons to teach," she added with a wicked grin.
Your body, still hypersensitive from your powerful orgasm, responded eagerly to their expert touches. It was clear that this "punishment" was far from over...
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IT'S JUST A TKO! â RIIZE
"baby, now I don't really know what we're fighting for. this rematch sex is amazing, but nobody wins if somebody's heart is swole"
tko - justin timberlake
make-up sex with ot7!riize
c/w: somnophilia kinda, suggestive, not full on smut but we gettin there
â
shotaro
you won't even lie. shotaro didn't do anything to you. you just felt like picking a fight. and he knew that. but he decided to let you get your little tantrum out. after a while, he just gets annoyed and tries to lean in to kiss on your neck. you instead push him away with an attitude, looking one way. the car is silent as he stares at the side of your face as if he's trying to get a read on you, before he quickly unbuckles his seatbelt and reaches over you to let back your seat. "taro...what're you doing?"
"solving the problem." he says before lifting up your skirt and devouring you in his front seat. best believe that attitude was gone afterward.
eunseok
you have had an attitude ALL day literally. why? because you didn't get your way. your way being eunseok. you guys were on the way to dinner and you started to feel needy. as he parked you started tying your hair up ready to suck him off in the lot but he stopped you. "girl, are you crazy?" he says chuckling at you.
that really ticked you off and you played in his face the whole night; touching him under the table, making unnecessary noises, and bending down knowing good and well that dress is short.
you already know eunseok do not play that at all. he played it smooth and romantic that whole night until y'all hit that car. he forces you into the back seat as he takes his suit jacket off.
"you wanna get fucked so bad, hm? bend the fuck over."
sungchan
you really messed up this time. usually, arguments with sungchan get resolved maturely, but this time it was you who said some things that shouldn't have been said. he locks himself in your shared room for hours before you finally put your pride aside and check on him. you see him sleeping peacefully, sleep shirt rising up a little, giving you a glimpse of his happy trail. you then get a bright idea; head as an apology.
you slowly climb on top of him, bringing his sweats down. you palm him until he's hard before you lick at his tip to test the waters. he doesn't stir one bit. you then completely take him in your mouth, and that's when he shoots up groggily.
"b-baby, what're you doing-" he says before it gets cut off with his own moans.
"apologizing."
wonbin
whenever you and wonbin argued, he was the ceo of 'idgaf'. he acted like you being mad at him barely phased him when really he was going crazy every second you didn't speak to him. he was losing hearing in his left eye and taste in his right.
you had enough of this nonchalant persona, though. you decided to mess with him. walking around the house in your sluttiest dress, making sure to 'accidentally' drop something on your way by, puffing out your chest; yet he didn't crack one bit.
you finally give up and change into your typical sleepwear, put your hair up, and crawled into bed facing away from him. it's silent for a minute before you hear shuffling from behind you and then something hard against your back.
"wonbin.." he pressed his face into your neck as he absentmindedly rubbed himself against you.
"i'm sorry, y/n. please touch me."
seunghan
seunghan fucked up. he forgot your date and you were not happy about it. you decided to isolate yourself in your shared bedroom before seunghan comes wondering in and plops himself onto the bed. he waits for you to acknowledge his presence, but you just keep scrolling. he presses experimental kisses on your stomach before they trail their way down. "y/n...talk to me." you still don't even spare him a glance. his fingers work at the button of your shorts before he slides his hands to feel over your panties. you can't help but react to his touch.
"you still mad at me?"
sohee
you and sohee just came from an event, and a guy got a little too close to you. usually, he doesn't get angry, especially not at you, but for some reason, today it really ticked him off. "y/n, don't you see he was flirting with you?"
"sohee you're being dramatic." you say sighing with an eye roll.
"bet." the rest of the car ride home was silent and you can't lie you were a bit nervous. this wasn't your typical sweet sohee, this was somebody else.
â
"i'll show you dramatic." he says thrusting into you at an extremely harsh pace, damn near rearranging your guts. "sohee...slow down please"
he doesn't listen to you and instead pushes one of your legs up causing him to press deeper into you. "he fuck you like this?"
anton
anton's honestly not even taking this argument seriously. you're yelling at him about god knows what, hell, he doesn't even know how he got here. what he does know is that his goddess of a girlfriend looks hot when she's angry. "baby..." he begins to say before you cut him off.
"no, anton, you need to listen to me. i asked you to stop doing that months ago, and you keep going." anton isn't even the little bit of interested right now. "do you hear me?" you ask folding your arms across your chest.
"yes ma'am. whatever you say captain, just please for the love of god, sit on my face." he says grabbing your waist to bring you into his lap.
a/n: gulp. i just wanted to get this out of my drafts bc i hate it
#riize reactions#riize x reader#riize smut#riize scenarios#kpop smut#riize fluff#anton x reader#eunseok x reader#7#anton smut#shotaro smut#enhaeil â reactions
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I NEED MOREE CONTENT OF ICHA THE CULT LEADER FROM THE SPIN-OFFS đ
he's just so adorable and cute and all hwjcjai đ„șđ„șđđ
if it's okay to ask, can i ask for more nsfw content for him?? he's just so adorable!! (icha favoritism?)
âȘâȘâȘâȘâȘâȘâȘâȘâȘâȘâȘâĄ
Yandere Cultleader x Desperate gn reader!
âȘâȘâȘâȘâȘâȘâȘâȘâȘâȘâȘâȘ
Synopsis: All you wanted was a chance to be loved well look no further than your local Cultleader Icha whoâs grown desperate himself. From playing docile with you all this time. (Continuation off a previous ask I already did. Might drop a part two for altar smutđ 1.6k words)
Â°Â»ïœĄ âŸïœ„â አ┠â ┠አâïœ„âŸ ïœĄÂ«Â°
Cw:MDNI suggestive! religious themes/gore/cult activity/manipulation/gaslighting/coercion/slight mention of murder/obessive/possessive tendencies/unhealthy behavior/ Icha being delusional.
âȘâȘâȘâȘâȘâȘâȘâȘâȘâȘâȘâĄ
âÎÏ
Î»ÎżÎłÎ·ÎŒÎÎœÎżÏ ÎÏÏÏ ÏÎ·Ï Î±ÎłÎŹÏηÏ, ÏÎżÏ
ÏÏΞοÏ
ÎșαÎč ÏÎżÏ
ÏÏΞοÏ
. ÎÎÏΔÏΔ ÏÏÎč η ΔÏÎčΞÏ
ÎŒÎŻÎ± ÎŒÎżÏ
Ï
ÏΔÏÎČÎ±ÎŻÎœÎ”Îč ÎșαÏÎŹ ÏÎżÎ»Ï Î”ÎșÎ”ÎŻÎœÎ· ÏÎżÏ
ÎŒÎÏÎżÏ
αΜΞÏÏÏÎżÏ
.â
The Cultleader chanted, in greek of which he learned to fully connect with his patron god. On his knees hands clasped in a prayer position as he was desperate to have you in his clutches.
âÎÎŻÏαÎč ÎŒÎŹÏÏÏ
ÏαÏ, αÏÎżÏÎŻÏÏÎź ÎŒÎżÏ
, ÎÎÏΔÎčÏ ÏÏÏÎż ÎșαÎčÏÏ ÎÏÏ ÏΔÏÎŹÏΔÎč ÏÏÏÎż ÎșαÎčÏÏ ÎŒÎ” αÏ
ÏÎź ÏηΜ ÏÏÏ
ÏΔÏÎź αγΏÏη ÏÏηΜ ÎșαÏÎŽÎčÎŹ ÎŒÎżÏ
. ÎΔ ÏÎčγοÎșαίΔÎč!â
After spending so much time restraining himself. Acting like a docile gentleman for his darling, but seeing no progress. He was barely hanging on a thread from kidnapping you and holding you hostage in his room.
âÎÏÏÎčΔ ÎÏÏÏ! ÎŁÎ±Ï ÏαÏαÎșÎ±Î»Ï ÎœÎ± αÎșÎżÏÏΔÏΔ ÏÎčÏ ÏαÏαÎșλΟÏΔÎčÏ ÎŒÎżÏ
. â
The young Prophet was so needy for you that he did manifestation spells. Hoping his delusions of you magically appearing in his lap from his earnest summonings. Would come true so he could love on you like the precious babe you are.
âÎÏÏΔ ÎŒÎżÏ
ÎșαΞοΎΟγηÏη! ÎĄÎŻÎŸÎ” ÎŒÎżÏ
ÎΜα ÎșαÏαÏαΌÎÎœÎż ÎșÏÎșαλο, ÎșαÎč Ξα ÏÎżÏ
ÎŽÏÏÏ ÎΜα ÎŒÏÏÎżÏÏÎčÎœÏ ÎșΏΞÎčÏΌα ÎłÎčα ÏÎż ÏÏÏ ÎžÎ± αÏÎźÏÏ ÏηΜ ΔÏÎčΞÏ
ÎŒÎŻÎ± ÎŒÎżÏ
ÎłÎčα ÏηΜ αγΏÏη ÎŒÎżÏ
Μα ΌΔ ÎșαÏαΜαλÏÏΔÎč.â
Since the day he met you he diligently prayed to his patron god Eros. For deliverance from the friend zone you unknowingly placed him in. Whilst holding a doll of you that he made from scratch using the fabric of your used underwear that heâd stolen for religious purposes.
However, his moment of praying were disturbed, hearing the repetitive knocking at his secluded altar. Within the catacombs of an abandoned cellar. Icha bristled donning his cloak with the symbolic rose markings upon his mask.
Ichaâs temper was getting the best of him, as he scowled. Prepared to rip the follower a new one for interrupting his needless begging. Blowing out the incense he let Eros know of his departure. Before getting up and marching towards the door.
Though, taking his anger management lessons to heart. He did the box technique and collected himself. He is supposed to be a dignified sect leader after all.
ïżœïżœïżœDevotee, you realize what youâre doing is a violation correct? As Iâve said before do not interrupt me in the middle of worship unless itâs an urgent matter.â Icha, said in a stern tone masked with veiled frustration.
The Devotee bowed their head apologetically in response, âMy apologies! Esteemed prophet, this matter is of urgency! One has come seeking for the revelations of lord Erosâ
âI see, I suppose thatâs arguable justification to overlook your offense. Lead the way devotee.â
The Cultleader relented begrudgingly following the grunt to the entrance of my underground lair of worship. The fanatic couldnât possibly turn a blind eye for new worshippers. All the more to get into the good graces of the god of love and desire. With news of a new member to join their cause of finding eternal love. Only to find that the said new follower of Eros was you. The one heâs been craving all this time.
With unparalleled speed Icha shoved the grunt out of the way making haste to you. Panting like a dog in sheer excitement at how lord Eros had answered his prayers and brought his love to him. Heâd be sure to show his gratitude to repay such a blessing.
âA-AHEM! Lord Eros has told me all about you! In fact your a-arrival was long overdue. And for the record Lord Eros has already b-blessed us to be soultied! T-tonight actually right at the altar!â
Icha was too excited, and just spilled his evident yearning for you to see. You of course were surprised but at the same time desperate for some type of connection. Which driven you to seek out the cult of Eros, in hopes of finding the one for you.
âR-really Eros was expecting me? And weâre to get a soultie? Is that supposed to be some sort of indoctrination ritual?â
You stammered taken aback by the Cultleaderâs statement. Ichaâs heterochromatic ringed eyes dilated at you in an unhinged manner. Seeing how cute you were playing dumb he stepped closer. His gloved hand coming to rest on your chin as he lifted your head up to giving a wide deranged smile.
âOf course not, the soultie ritual is sacred! Only privy to you and me. You see, youâre special! The fact that youâre here proves that Lord Eros finds us to be a match made in heaven.â
The prophet declared, letting his hand fall from your face caressing your arms and taking your hands into his. The grip was tight as Icha ushered you further into the underground space.
Passing by cloaked devotees and heading towards the restricted sacrificial room. Displaying a pristine alter where a small statue of Eros lay over watching it. Depictions of Cupids were carved into the walls. While hundreds of scented candles, surrounded the perimeter. As offerings such as roses and grapes.
âWell first things first before we can get to the good part, Lord Eros requires a s-sacrifice.â
Icha continued leading you towards a pedestal where a large ceremonial knife rested. Picking it up in his digits. The blade was sharp and clean. Perfect for the sacrifice he had in mind. To pay his god Eros tribute for such a joyous occasion.
âTo fully accept you into his flock as his priestess. And take your place my second in command! Youâd need to heed these simple r-rules.â
With a mere clap of his hands two upper ranked Devotes came dragging in a person whose identity was covered by the burlap sac over their head. Labeled heretic.
âFirstly, youâre not allowed to leave. The moment you stepped into his domain youâre considered as his Devotee. Any indication of betrayal/neglect in your duties towards Lord Eros results in immediate dismissal.â
Waving a hand he turned away the Devotees who bowed their heads and stalked away. After leaving behind the muffled hostage wringing around in their restraints. Begging to be released.
âSecondly, Y-you will pledge your complete and utter loyalty to me. Since Iâm the Prophet of Eros you must promise to obey and listen to my commands.â
Not even batting a glance at the already bloodied heretic writhing in pain within the sanctity. Icha suddenly placed his arms at the stone altar on either side of you. Leaving you pinned against his cloaked body. Now pressed into yours as he cornered you against the stone with no escape.
âThe rules are easy enough to follow right? So letâs have our first crime of passion and send this traitor off together!â
The Cultleaderâs voice trembled in pure elation, spinning you around so that he was snug against your behind. His palms steadily guiding your own to point the ornamental knife at the captured Heretic. Who was crying for forgiveness though it was muffled by the sac upon their head.
âWait you seriously donât actually mean to kill them right? Is this some kind of jokeââ
Your hands were shaking completely at a loss for words. Were you truly going to go through with this initiation process which was basically first degree murder?
âThis is just a minor step that has to be done in order for us to finally be bounded together.â Icha interjected, his almond eyes narrowing as he used his other hand to tilt your head back so he could peer down at you.
âYouâve been lonely right?â The Cultleader whispered into your ear, his soothing voice echoing in your mind. Almost as if he was trying to brainwash you like he did the rest. âSearching for someone to care for you, console you, love you. Isnât that the reason why you came here in the first place?â
âThatâs true, I did c-come here for that but I didnât know Iâd have to do this. This is wrong, it isnât what I wantedââ You said already having a near panic attack, seeing how the heretic was already missing their hands. The stumps were poorly wrapped.
âLord Eros and I have been eyeing you for a long time. Weâve seen your attempts at trying to find love on your own. And look at where itâs gotten you, nowhere.â The Prophet hissed, a bit frustrated from your acts of denial. You flinched at his harsh tone recalling how it was just the plain truth of the matter.
Icha chilled himself, seeing that you too realized that obvious fact. after all he was the one to blame for your lackluster love life. Since a smug smile tugging on his lips from the memories of how he successfully hexed every potential suitor to suffer from scrutinizing symptoms the moment you entered their sights.
âBut here is your golden chance to get that love you need and deserve! With lord Erosâs help we were finally reunited! To become one as preordainedâ Icha said in a matter a fact tone, he buried his face to your exposed neck taking in a deep whiff. Sighing in pure pleasure of finally having you in his grasp.
âIâm all yours, and youâre all mine. I can give you whatever you need. Iâll make sure youâre never left achingâ The shaking in your body slowly quelled to a stop. Your brain registering his honeyed words, god you were so desperate to even consider this. Icha noticed you relaxing and merely smiled pressing chaste kisses down your neck savoring the taste of your flesh.
âDonât you see? Youâre already the reason for the life I breathe everyday. Youâre my soulmate! We just need to make it official!â
You barely even knew this guy who was promising you eternal happiness. But you didnât really care at this point you just wanted to be loved. You gripped the knife tightly tears welling up from your eyes as you came to a stop at the crumpled figure of the Heretic. Icha lovingly caressing you and talking you through your nerves like a lullaby.
âAll you need to do is take the leap of faith with me... Iâll be with you no matter where you lead.â
In the center of the room lies Eros statue. Eyes glowing a faint light. An untraceable wisp of laughter filling Ichaâs ears. As The corner of its lips quirked into an unnoticeable smirk of amusement.
#Icha the Cultleader#yandere cult leader#yandere blurb#yandere drabble#yandere writing#yandere concept#yandere stories#yandere killer#obsessive yandere#possessive yandere#yandere oc#yandere x reader#yanderecore#yandere x you#yandere imagines#yandere scenarios#yandere male#yandere male x reader#yandere boy
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... 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 Alexanderâs death. The grief meetings occurred every third Wednesday, and everyone was lovely enough. You just couldnât 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, heâd be dead.Â
Your feet kept making strides to the double door entryway, only to slow to a stop when your hands reached the doorâs push handle. Then, youâd 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.Â
A groan escapes your throat as you firmly put your hands on your hips, tilting your head to the Summer sky. âIâm sorry,â 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, thatâs what the grief counselors say.Â
The worst part was no longer knowing who you were apologizing toâ yourself or Alexander.Â
You were walking around one of the parking lotâs street lamps when you saw someone standing at the doors, frozen in place. It was like watching a mirror of yourselfârigid shoulders, twitching hands, shaking head.Â
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 doesnât stop you from gracing him with a gentle smile, âAre you going inside?âÂ
His eyes meet yours for a second, looking away to glance back at the doors. âIâm not sure.â 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. âAre you?â He asks, stepping out of the way for you.Â
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. âIâm not sure either,â You laugh out feebly. He nods, a dull smile gracing his delicate features for a millisecond before looking off with a forlorn expression.Â
âI was thinking about walking around the parking lot again⊠to try to gain the confidence to go inside. Youâre,â you pause, wondering if it's a good idea to offer the man an invitation, âYouâre welcome to join me if youâd like.âÂ
The man looks at you again, his eyes widening for a second. Youâre sure heâs about to decline, return to his car, and drive away, but he nods. You feel yourself smiling. Itâs a little subdued, but itâs real. You mouth a silent âokayâ as you move your hands to your pant pockets, stepping away from the doors with this mourning stranger. You figured you didnât have to talk if he didnât want to, so everything was quiet as the two of you slowly walked around the large parking lot.Â
Eventually, your quiet stranger speaks, âThank you,âÂ
You shrug a little, sniffling, âItâs daunting, especially the first meeting.âÂ
He frowns a little, watching your eyes flit over to him and then back to the night sky. âThat obvious?âÂ
âOnly a little, but thatâs not a bad thing.â 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. âDo you see her yet?â You ask, voice like honey.Â
He feels like crying as he says, âNo,â He doesnât even know who youâre looking at.Â
Your right hand is coming out of your coat pocket as you point to Cassiopeia slowly, tracing the stars with your index finger. âCassiopeia, sheâs a little low right now, but in a few months, sheâll get higher. You see her?â
And Spencer does. He feels his body relax, just for a moment. âI do.â 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, âIâmâ I didnât introduce myself earlier. Iâm Spencer.âÂ
âThatâs alright; I didnât introduce myself either,â you sigh before you tell him your name. He nods at your response and follows you once your feet start moving again.Â
âHave youââ He motions to the funeral home in the distance, âever been inside?âÂ
âOh, yeah. Iâm a funeral home grief support group regular.â You joke lightly, though the soft chuckle you let out sounds like a sad one.Â
He nods, nervously adjusting the beige cardigan on his chest. âIs everyoneâI meanââ He draws his lips closed as he tries to gather his thoughts. âDo you like it?âÂ
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, âYeah, itâs been nice. Less,â You tilt your head slowly like youâre choosing your words carefully. âLess Lonely.âÂ
Spencer lets out a relieved-sounding sigh as he mutters a gentle âRight.âÂ
âI just,â You swallow carefully, âIâm having a hard time going in today. My fiancĂ© proposed two years ago today. I justâ I mean everyone inside knows, I just,â You trail off for a second, sniffling lightly as a cool breeze brushes against your watering eyes. âIt doesnât matter.âÂ
Spencer didnât know what to say to that. With Maeve, he had barely met her in person before she was murdered in front of himâ 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 didnât 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.Â
He struggles to find the words for a second before he nods, slow and unsure of himself, âIt matters.âÂ
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. âI know,â you can feel the ghost of the engagement ring on your left hand, a ring that now lies in a coffin.Â
As the two of you get close to the building once more, you ask, âAre you going to go in?âÂ
Spencer swallows hard, the knot in his throat making it difficult for him to breathe. âMaybe next meeting,âÂ
You nod, âMe too.â You stare at your car in the distance before you feel yourself standing in the parking lot with Spencerâ unmoving. âI know itâs not a lot, and I know that I canât help that much, but,â You pull your phone out of your pocket, opening the keypad cautiously before holding it out to him. âIf you ever want to talk about it, or anything really, Iâd be happy to talk with you.âÂ
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 doesnât know why he wants to talk with you. He thinks itâs because talking with a stranger about Maeve seemed less daunting than talking about it with his coworkersâ 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.Â
Two weeks go by like usualâ no text from your stranger named Spencer, coffee for one at the cafĂ© that was Alexanderâs 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. Itâs 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. Youâre 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.Â
You're running late this particular Saturday morning. You have two coffees in handâone of which always goes untouchedâand youâre stuck on the metro. Thatâs when you see him again, your stranger sitting in the fluorescents of the railcar.Â
Pushing through a small crowd, you approach him, slowly taking the empty seat next to him. Spencer doesnât look up at first, his eyes glued to the book in his hands. That is until youâre leaning over to him to say a small âHello,âÂ
He jumps at the sound, head snapping to look at you with wide eyes. He doesnât know why heâs so surprised you remember him, but he is. âHello,âÂ
Your eyes meet his, âDo you remember me? I-Iâm sorry I shouldnât have invadedââ
âNo! I mean, yes, I remember you. Youâre not invading my space. Youâre fine.âÂ
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, âAre you meeting someone?â Small talk was never his strong suit.Â
You look at him, eyes lingering on his polite smile. âOh,â you laugh like it's funny. âNo, it's just me.â Spencer gives you a confused look, and you quickly answer his silent question. âI visit Alexâs grave. He loved black coffee. It was the most unsettling thing about him.âÂ
Spencer doesnât know how youâre 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. âIâve always liked cemeteries too, so bonus, I guess.âÂ
That gets you a sharp laugh, âYouâve always liked cemeteries?â Spencerâs eyes seem slightly brighter now, less red than two weeks ago, and theyâre laser-focused on you.Â
You happily nod, âAlways thought they were beautiful. Itâs a creation of love, a way for your love for someone to live on.â
âNot sure everyone thinks about them that way,âÂ
âWell, I guess they wouldnât, and thatâs alright with me.â You hum softly as the intercom announces in a static-filled voice that the railcar will be moving soon. âItâs quieter that way.â
Spencer glances towards the intercom for a second before turning back to you, âI suppose youâre rightâ about the quiet thing, not sure I agree with always liking them.â And heâs smiling at you, a real smile.Â
You feel yourself smiling back, wide as ever, âWhatâs your opinion on cemeteries then?âÂ
âIâd like to say I donât have an opinion on them, but if I had to form one, I would say theyâreâŠâ He trails off for a second, thinking about it more now. He laughs for a second, âWell, I suppose I find them rather serene.âÂ
Your eyebrows raise for a second as you study him. How he seems to be relaxing in the conversation, and you canât 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. âWould you like to join me?âÂ
Spencer reels back slightly at the invitation; it feels intimate, yet he doesnât want to say no. He wants to see what you see, to understand your mind, âIââ He looks away for a second, staring at the still-opened book in his lap. âIf youâll have me.âÂ
Once you are on the street, you hum lightly while walking beside him. Spencer doesnât seem to mind very much, his fingers fiddling with the edges of his book that now resides closed in his hand at his side. Heâs nervous for some reason. He doesnât 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.Â
But when the two of you tread closer to the cemetery gates, you start talking again. âI hope you donât find it strange that I invited you. Itâs been a little under a yearâ well, a year next weekâ and I know it might seem weird, but Iâd like to think heâs happy about me having a new friend.âÂ
He knows it is a coping mechanism, and he knows Alexander cannot feel anything anymore. Spencerâs a man of science, but hearing you say that makes him feel at ease. His shoulders unwind slowly, âHe sounded like a nice person,âÂ
You let out a playful hum, âSometimes. If he didnât like you, he made it pretty obvious.â You pause for a second, glancing over at Spencer. âHe 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.âÂ
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, youâre still smiling. You let out a happy sigh as you talk, introducing Spencer as âYour new friend.â
For a while, you tell him storiesâmemories from when Alexander was still aliveâand he finds he doesnât mind listening to them. He sees them as a great distraction from his lack of happy stories with Maeve. Youâre laughing a little as you tell him of the time that Alexanderâs mother wouldnât 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.Â
âDid he even like trail mix?âÂ
âHonestly? Yes, but he only liked the chocolate and peanuts. It would just be massive bags with an abundance of raisins inside.â You shake your head a little as you stand next to Spencer.Â
Spencer lets out a slightly amused hum. His mind keeps going over how good you are with everything. You talk about Alexander openly. You donât hold your feelings back. You smile so wide, even when you look at his headstone. He wants to know your secretâ 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. âHow doââ He sighs heavily, âI mean, Iâm sure you struggleââ He licks his lips nervously, your eyes meeting his slowly. âWhen does it stop hurting?âÂ
Youâre silent for a second, your soft smile fading as you stare at him. Heâs scared that maybe thatâs the wrong question to ask as he watches you turn your head to look down at Alexanderâs grave. He is about to apologize when you whisper, âIt feels different now.âÂ
Spencerâs mouth snaps shut as he waits for more, his eyes scanning your side profile slowly for some sort of sign that youâre uncomfortable. âLast year, it just felt likeââ A pause, your free hand rising to your chest slowly. âIt felt like someone had plunged a dull knife into my chest and left me for dead.âÂ
Spencerâs chest tightened for a second, his own heart feeling painfully dull as he listened to you.Â
âBut, Iâm not the one who died. Alex did. I was so angryâ disappointed that he had the nerve to leave me when we were about to start the next chapter of our lives together. I hadâhaveâ all this love inside my heart for him, and heâs gone. It took me a long time to understand that, to be okay with it.â
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 Alexanderâs grave. âHe was so kind, and once I got past that feeling,â your voice sounded thick. âLife kept going, and so did I. He wouldnât have wanted me to stop living my life. When you love someone, you only want them to be happyâ with or without you.âÂ
You sniffle lightly, relaxing your shoulders slightly, âIt never stops hurting, I guess, but days get better. Iâm happy that I got to be a part of his life. I find some comfort in that. Somewhere, in the story of him, Iâm there.â Eventually, you find the courage to look over at Spencer. When your eyes meet his, you find that heâs 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.Â
âIt does get better.â You whisper, your voice warm.Â
Spencer nods quickly, mouthing a little âI knowâ before his eyes trail away from you for a second. A cool breeze passes between the two of you when he says, âJust needed the reminder,âÂ
The next time you see him, itâs 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 heâs happy youâre here.Â
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.Â
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 Adamâs 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.Â
He stutters for a second, his confidence creeping away from him. Youâre surprised when he turns his head to look at you. His breathing steadies as he watches you. âIâve been having difficulties sleeping again. After,â His hands move a little as he speaks, his eyes periodically looking towards the rest of the group before trailing back over to you, âI justâ I used to have a hard time sleeping, and lately, itâs been happening again. Every time I sleep, I see her, and I feel soââ 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.Â
He shakes his head a little, âItâs been seven months, and I keep dreaming of everything that could have been.â Â
The confession is met with comfortable silence and sympathetic looks, but not from you. Youâre nodding, an encouraging smile spreading across your face. For some reason, he likes that better. âI donât like leaving her when I wake up.â The admission feels like a weight lifting off his chest when he says it.Â
Thereâs 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 heâs finally willing to take some much-needed advice.Â
After that monthâs meeting, Spencer has back-to-back cases. Heâs keen on keeping in contact with you, which youâve said he doesnât have to do if he doesnât want to, but he insists. He likes having someone to update, a friend waiting to see him when heâs free.Â
The next time heâs free, itâs a rare Saturday. Heâs been awake since five and canât seem to go back to sleep. He does keep dreaming of Maeve, but theyâre 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. Maeveâs not angry. She just laughs and glances at Spencer before hugging you. You hug her right back and say somethingâ and thatâs when he wakes up.Â
Spencer doesnât 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.Â
However, reading isnât 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 doesnât know why he thinks about the cemetery where Alexâs 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 Alexâs grave⊠alone.Â
Spencerâs lips slightly pout when he sees no coffee cup on the headstone. He knows that you have yet to visit your late fiancĂ© today. He doesnât exactly know why heâs visiting your late fiancĂ© today; without you, it feels⊠strange.Â
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.Â
Spencer feels his lips part for a second, a sigh escaping his lungs, before he whispers, âIâm a mess. " He knows heâs talking to thin air, but he feels lighter, admitting it to himself.Â
âI donât know what Iâm feeling. All I know is that I shouldnât be, and it wonât do anyone any good, and secretly I thinkââ He sucks in a cold breath of air, âSecretly, I think I donât deserve it.â The grave is silent, of course, but Spencer smiles anyway.Â
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 heâs walking away.Â
Two meetings and four coffee âdatesâ later, youâre rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet as you watch Spencer laugh over something with one of the grief counselors. Itâs a strange feeling to see him laugh so openly. It's heartwarming if youâre being honest. Itâs hard to explain it, and the feeling is too intenseâ too raw. Itâs a feeling you dimly remember, and suddenly, youâre nauseous.Â
You have a crush, which is incredibly laughable because youâre 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.Â
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: âSomebodyâs all smiles.â You hum with a playful roll of your eyes.Â
Spencer pouts for a second, good-natured and playful, as he mutters a little, âWhen did smiling become a crime?âÂ
âIt isnât. Iâm just being observant, and you have a nice smile.â You try to keep your voice calm and level, but he seems to catch on anyway. Spencerâs eyes seem laser-focused on you, studying you carefully. Internally, youâre beginning to pray that his profiling skills fail to notice the classic signs: your sweaty palms, wandering gaze, and too-tense shoulders.Â
And if he does notice⊠you hope he doesnât say anything. Thatâs not Spencerâs way, and you know it. âEverything okay?â Â
You nod quickly, âIâm good, sorry, I was just thinking about⊠bills.â You know he catches the lie the second you say it; you can see it in his amused smile.Â
âBills?âÂ
âBills.âÂ
âIâm not sure I like this story youâre going with, but if youâre sticking to it, I wonât pry.âÂ
You nod, letting your shoulders relax as you sling your bag over your shoulder. âThank you,âÂ
âI was thinking,â Spencer starts as he grabs his messenger bag, following you out. âWe could get dinner together Friday night.âÂ
âWhy?â Your tone is a little flatter than youâd 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 strangeâ still too raw, surreal.Â
âBecauseâŠâ 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 youâll 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. âMy teammates are having a get-together.âÂ
âOh!â You say as the two of you reach your car. âAnd you want me to meet them or?â 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.Â
âYeah! Yes, I think itâd be nice!â Spencerâs voice cracks slightly before nervously clearing his throat in a weak attempt to control the anxiety that creeps into his tone. âWould you⊠like to meet them?âÂ
Youâre leaning against your car door, and the air smells sharp with the promise of snow, and Spencerâs sure youâll decline. You grin, nodding slightly, âSure, I mean, itâs just dinner with friends. What time Friday?â Your arms fold over your chest, pulling your coat closer to your body.
âSix.â He doesnât know how his fake dinner has a time, but heâs surprised at how easy it is to come up with one. âNothing fancy. Iâll, um, text you the address.âÂ
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. âCanât wait. See you Friday.âÂ
Spencer stuffs his freezing hands in his pockets as he watches you enter your car and drive off. Then, the panic sets in.Â
Heâs tailing Derek desperately, âListen, I know itâs rushed, butââÂ
âI donât see why you canât just text her the address and ask her out. Straightforward.â Derek says as he takes the left towards Penelopeâs office. âOr you could say we canceled and make it just the two of you.âÂ
âConsidering I already lied to her once, Iâd rather not lie twice. Andââ He fumbles with his words for a short second. âItâs not a date. I just thought she thought it was one, and I panicked.âÂ
âWhatâs wrong with it being a date?â Derek asks, knocking on the door gently before entering Penelopeâs office.Â
âDate?â Penelope echoes back as she turns in her chair.Â
Spencer holds out a hand defensively, âIt wouldnâtâ itâs complicated! Please say yes. Youâre the first person Iâve asked.âÂ
âAsked what? Am I going to be asked?â Penelope chirps as Derek hands her a coffee.Â
âPretty boy here,â Derek motioned to Spencer with a light wave, âLied to one of his ladies. Invited her to a team dinner that doesnât exist.â
âA team dinner would be fun! With a new addition, too!â Penelope said with a sip of her coffee. âWhen?âÂ
âFriday,â Spencer mumbles, avoiding her gaze.Â
âFriday, as in, tomorrow Friday?â She sucks in a breath of air, âSpencerâŠâÂ
He frowns and mouths a little, âI knowâ. He looks at them, pleading, âPlease, even if itâs just the two of youâŠâ He trails off slowly, watching Penelope and Derek share a look.Â
âIâll text the rest of the group.âÂ
âNot the whole story,â Spencer adds as Penelope pulls out her phone. âPlease.â
âIâm already doing you one favor, boy genius.âÂ
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 doesnât blame them.Â
However, by the time five-thirty rolls around, he can see that heâs been played. The first text comes from JJ, claiming that Henry is sick and that she canât 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.Â
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: âWhereâs the team?âÂ
Spencer's throat tightens as he answers, âTheyâve canceled, so itâll be just us if thatâs alright with you?âÂ
He can see your smile falter momentarily before you nod, âThatâs fine, another time.â You shiver a little, glancing towards the restaurant. âShould weâŠ?â Spencer, silently elated that you arenât leaving, nods and hurriedly rushes over to open the door for you.Â
Once seated, you are greeted by a slightly uncomfortable awkward silence. Youâre 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, youâll have to speak first.
âIâm sorry everyââ
âDo youââÂ
The two of you stare at each other briefly before laughing softly. Spencerâs eyes crinkle a little when heâs laughing, a feature you seem to be adoring silently before he says, âIâm sorry that everyone canceled.â
You push out a little breath, your gaze falling to the menu on the table. âThatâs okay, Iâm sure everyone has busy lives.â You shrug a bit before glancing up at him, âI do have a question for you, though,â You watch as Spencerâs back straightens, and he gives you a small smile as the âgo ahead.âÂ
You flatten out the front of your sweater nervously, âDo you think itâs weird that I was supposed to meet your friendsâ the team?âÂ
Spencer gives you a slightly confused look before you quickly add, âI donât 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 donât knowâDo you think itâs weird?âÂ
Spencer can feel his cheeks heating up against his will, and his head shakes from side to side, âNo! No, itâs not weird.â he pauses, thinking about it for a second. âWell, maybe a little. But not for you, for me. Youâve never expressed an intense interest in meeting them, but they mentioned bringing someone, and I thoughtââ He motions to you with a shaky hand, âThought youâd be a good person to bring to dinner. Youâre lovely, and my friend, and Iââ 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.Â
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.Â
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, âI didnât think it was weird either,âÂ
Spencer lets out a little huff of relief, âGood, thatâs good.â His heart was beating fast in his chest. He knew he had feelings for you but was unaware of how deep they ran.Â
âThough I will say, it is strange that they all canceled.âÂ
He feels awful lying to you. He can count two lies now and doesnât want to tell a third. âYeah, I canât explain that one. They all did it at the last minute. Iâm sorry.âÂ
âI donât mind, though I was scared this was all a set-up for a date.â You laugh as if itâs the silliest idea youâve heard.Â
Spencer can feel his heart in his throat, his breathing quickening slightly. âWould it be bad if it was?â he canât 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. Youâre about to say something when the waitress comes by to take your order. You manage a slight, polite smile as you order before youâre staring off at Spencer. His nervous eyes flicker between the waitress and you as he orders quickly.Â
When sheâs gone, you stare at each other with bated breath. You draw in a slow, calming breath when you say, âI donât know,âÂ
âYou donât⊠know?âÂ
âI just, I havenât thought aboutââ You pause, knowing itâs a lie. âI haveââ You correct gently before you let out a frustrated sigh. âI thought we were friends.â Your voice cracks slightly.Â
Spencer draws his head back at that, âWe are friends. We are. I didn't know if you ever thought aboutââ He doesnât know what heâs saying. What is he aiming for here? Â
âAnyone dating you would be lucky, Spencer.â You say, sweet and gentle. You donât 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.Â
You watch his fingers nervously trace patterns on the glass of water in front of him, how heâs looking at you with such a sweet expression. You just didnât think this would happen to you. You were sure that Alex was it. He was all you would ever knowâ you had resigned yourself to it.Â
Would you be a bad person if you fell in love again? After everything, it feels⊠selfish, dirty, wrong, terrifying. âIâm not sure Iâm your best option.â Is what you settle on.Â
Your heart silently breaks as you watch Spencerâs face fall. His nervous fingers slow their movements until he whispers a sad, âRight.â Thereâs a pause, like heâs deciding what to do next. He then nods, like heâs coming to terms with something.Â
âRight, Iâm not saying Iâm lookingââ His brown eyes scan your face, âIâm not even sure I want something like that. I donât know why it sounded like I was. I just want you to know that Iââ He swallows thickly, âI like being your friend.âÂ
âMe too! I like being your friend, too.âÂ
âGood!â
âGreat!â
His smile doesnât reach his eyes, âSo weâre on the same page?â
âSame chapter and everything.âÂ
Spencer lets out a huff of a laugh at that, nodding slowly.Â
The rest of the dinner seems normal; the interaction from earlier seems to be brushed under the rug, and youâre grateful it is. However, the topic kept worming its way into your train of thought. The nagging thought of âWhat ifâŠâ.Â
It's not a terribly horrible idea to date Spencer. If you were honest with yourself, you had thought about it beforeânot 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.Â
Wanting more than that was greedy.Â
After dinner, Spencer insisted on walking you home. He wouldnât listen to a single one of your protests and simply convinced you with a firm, âIâve seen what happens to people when they go off alone late at night,âÂ
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 youâve had a date⊠you werenât even sure you would know if you were on one unless it was explicitly said.Â
The thought makes you chuckle, earning the interest of one Doctor Spencer Reid. âWhatâs on your giggling mind?âÂ
âNothing,â You sigh, glancing over at him. âI was just thinking about how long it's been since Iâve been on a date. I donât 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,âÂ
Spencerâs lips quirk upwards at the idea, listening to you. The sweet look heâs giving you is not lost on you as you continue to ramble, âI mean, Iâm not even sure I remember the last time I tried to look for a date.âÂ
âCare to take a guess?âÂ
âUhm,â You draw out the sound as you think, your tongue wetting your lips. âSix months ago, maybe, kind of, sort of?âÂ
Spencerâs 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 Alexanderâs death. âAnd.. What do you mean by that? How does someone, kind of, sort of, maybe look for a date?âÂ
You roll your eyes, âIt wasnât really my idea. My friends convinced me to go on some dating apps, and I tried!â You laugh lightly, âWell. I pretended to try. I just didnât like it. It wasnât what I expected.âÂ
âWhat were you expecting?âÂ
Your feet falter momentarily before finding their pace next to Spencer again, âSomething from a Nora Ephron movie, maybe? Something like Youâve got Mail.â As you say it, you see the strange look on Spencerâs face, and it makes you grin. âItâs a romantic comedy.âÂ
He mouths a soft âohâ and feels awkward because he still doesnât know what you mean. Youâre quick to explain, âIt just means I had high expectations. Alexander and I were friends for a while before we,â You trail off before you wave the sentence off with your hand. âI just didnât like it. Felt too forced.âÂ
Spencer understands that part, slowly taking a left with you. âHavenât tried that yet.âÂ
âI wouldnât recommend it.âÂ
He grins and nods, âWhat do you recommend?â 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.Â
âIn a world seemingly becoming increasingly dependent on technology for everything? Iâd recommend shooting your shot with every pretty stranger you see.â It's a joke, but the idea of Spencer asking for the numbers of every pretty person in DC made your chest feel strangely tightâ a light reminder that your crush was still going strong. And youâve already turned him down.
âIâm not sure youâve been paying close attention to me these past four months,â He jokes lightly.Â
âOh, trust me, I have been.â The words tumble out before you can stop yourself, and you can feel your cheeks growing impossibly hot.Â
Spencerâs quick to tease, âYou have been?âÂ
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.Â
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. Spencerâs ears are red, his hazel eyes glued to yours, and his hands nervously fidget with his long purple scarf.Â
He draws in his lower lip nervously, his brow furrowing in the way that lets you know heâs meditating on something in that beautiful brain of his. His hands move as he begins to talk, âI have been too,âÂ
With that, you feel all the air knocked out of you, and your trembling fingers hide in your pockets. Youâre 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, âIâm not sure what Iââ He steps closer.Â
âNot sure what I want. All I know is that I feel somethingââ He makes a weird motion with his hands like heâs trying to shape his feelings with his hands. âHopeful? I donât know! I just,âÂ
âI know.â You rasp out, nodding quickly. âI know.â You repeat it because you do know. You know what heâs feeling, that dangerous feeling of tentative hope, the sense that something is beginning again. The world shifting into focus and becoming colorful again.Â
Spencerâs 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 couldnât let go of what you once knew.Â
What would you say to your friendsâ or worse, Alexanderâs family? Thinking about being happy with someone else again felt like a betrayal.Â
Spencer could see the shift in your demeanor, the way your eyes glossed over with emotion, your back rigid, and he knew you werenât ready. The feelings you were feeling were ones he wrestled with weeks ago after visiting Alexanderâs grave. âI visited his grave without you a few times.â
 Your brows knit together at that, stuttering gently as you manage a soft âWhy?âÂ
âI felt guilty about how I feel about you. I thought visiting his grave would make me back down, but it didnât. I visited Maeveâs grave and thought about my feelings there too. She would have liked you.âÂ
âSpencer, donâtââ
âYou told me once that he wouldâve wanted you to be happy with or without him. Why canât you let yourself be happy? I know itâs uncharted territory; it is for me, too, and he knows you donât love him any lessââÂ
âYou didnât even know him!âÂ
Spencer's lips draw into a tight line at that. You canât stop yourself before saying, âYou donât understand the love I had for him. It was different from how you felt about Maeve. It was special.âÂ
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.Â
âYou donât get to say that,â 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. âMy love for her was just as special as yours was for Alexander. I can see that, even if you canât. But at least I can see when something exceptional is right in front of me. Unlike you, I didnât want it to slip through my fingers again.âÂ
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, âGoodnight,âÂ
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.Â
The conversation is still fresh in your mind at dinner with Alexanderâs 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.Â
She watches the way youâre staring at your sandwich. The intense look youâre giving the meal almost makes her laugh. âDonât be upset with the club. We can always get you another sandwich, dear.âÂ
You raise your head slightly at that and let out a nervous laugh, âNo, the sandwich is fine. Iâm just thinking. Iâm sorry, Shannon.â
Shannon lets out an understanding hum, waving you off with a simple flick of her wrist as you apologize. âIs it work?âÂ
You give her an easy smile, âAh, no. Itâs⊠confusing and probably boring; donât worry about it.â She gives you a little look that says, âCome on, really?â and it makes your smile widen.Â
âWhen you retire, everything is confusing and boring, so lay it on me.âÂ
âShannon, please, I promise you donââÂ
âI will make you pay for this meal; do not force my hand.âÂ
âI am paying?âÂ
âExactly. Now tell me whatâs on your mind.âÂ
You slump in your seat and nod in defeat. âAlright, well,â you wet your lips nervously, trying to figure out the best way to tell her. âYou remember last time I mentioned that I had that friend from the group? The geniusâSpencer.âÂ
Shannon nods, motioning for you to keep going slowly, âWell, lately, he and I have become aware of some feelings for each other, and Iââ You can feel your legs trembling, âHe just doesnât get it. I canât do that to Alex or you. He just doesnât understandââÂ
âSweetheart, slow down.â She held up a hand, an amused look on her face as you rambled at the speed of light. âStart over.âÂ
You let out a little huff, trying to calm your growing nerves. You roll your shoulders back, gaining some composure, âI have feelings for him, and I thought it was just a passing crush, but now itâs getting so messy. And he told me that he has feelings for me too, but I told him off, and we havenât talked in four daysâ which would be fine if we didnât fight, but we didâ and I donât know.âÂ
âYou donât know?âÂ
âHeâs really sweet and great, but I just⊠I keep thinking about my love for Alex and donât want to let go of him.â Your voice gets quiet with the admission. âIâm happy loving just him, only him.â Your voice shakes lightly, forcing your gaze down, your eyes filling with tears.Â
You hated telling her thisâ 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.Â
âHeâs deadââ
âI knowââ
âNo, listen,â Shannon says sternly, watching as you lift your gaze to meet hers. âHeâs dead. Every day, I have to remind myself heâs dead. I know you do, too.â She frowns for a second before she gives you a weak smile. âBut, you? Youâre alive. Youâve 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 wouldnât want you to be alone. Or worse, unhappy.âÂ
You blink away tears, your bottom lip trembling, âI donât want to forget him,âÂ
âWho said youâre going to?â Shannon jokes lightly, giving your hand a light squeeze. After a moment, she whispers, âKnowing Alex, he probably sent Spencer your way.âÂ
You laugh at the idea, but the sound dissolves into a little sob, âHe would.âÂ
Shannon brightens momentarily, âHe was always jealous of how good you were at trivia night. Maybe he wanted someone to beat you for once?âÂ
âSpencer can!â You laugh harder than you should, but you canât help it. You picture Alexâs face, joking about how you have too much useless knowledge in your brain.Â
As your laughter dies away, a wave of anxiety rolls over you. âI was awful to him last Friday.âÂ
âThen make it up to him,âÂ
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.Â
You had been to Spencerâs 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.Â
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.Â
Clearly, he didnât 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 didnât text you back before then.Â
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.Â
But they werenât. 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 didnât have to attend every meeting, but you felt even more desperate than before. Hating the feeling, you left halfway through.
It wasnât 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?Â
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 Alexâs grave that night. It was out of your way, but you didnât want to go home just to wait by the phone again.Â
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.Â
You smile, eyes adjusting in the moonlight as you look down at your dead loverâs grave. You crouch, touching a bouquet of almost-dead flowers at the foot of his grave. âWas I bad at this with you, too?â Your fingers trace the brittle petals of a dying rose.Â
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.Â
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 itâs just a late-night jogger passing through and that he wonât see you if you stay low.Â
Your eyes stay on the figure, and you mentally go over possible escape plans when you see itâ 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.Â
Then, a hint of moonlight illuminates your huffing strangerâ messy brown hair and a crooked tie. You stand, âSpencer?â You say his name when he approaches you, the moonlight letting you get a glimpse of his soft eyes for a moment. âWhat are you⊠Howâd you know Iâd be here? What are you doing here?âÂ
âYou werenât at the meeting,â He huffs, leaning over to rest his palms on his knees.Â
âIââ You scoff, slightly amused. âI left early. Did you show up?âÂ
âNo,â he admits, his tone becoming sharper as he catches his breath. âNo, Iââ he hesitates for a moment, âI saw your car on my way home, and I got worried, and Iââ He roughly drags a hand through his curls, âYou shouldnât be in isolated places like this late at night.âÂ
Your shocked expression melts, and your lips quirk into a slight smile. Spencer sees this and responds sharply, âIâm being serious!â
You hold up both hands, âI know, Iââ You sigh, a slight chuckle following the sound before you say, âI knew you were going to say that. I could hear your voice when I parked across the street.âÂ
âMaybe you should listen to it sometime,âÂ
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, âYou never called,âÂ
Spencer can feel his heartbeat quicken, âWasnât aware I had to.âÂ
âYou didnât have to. I just would haveââ You cut yourself off, nervously licking your lips. âI wanted you to.âÂ
Spencer stays quiet before he replies with a soft âIâm sorry,âÂ
You find your smile returning as you shake your head, âThatâs my line,âÂ
He lets a little chuckle at that, ready to tell you itâs okay, when you quickly add, âIâm sorry for how I acted three weeks ago. I shouldnât have been so cruel or close-minded, and I should have been honest with you about my feelings. Iâm sorry I pushed you away. Iâm sorry for implying your love for Maeve wasnât special. Oh, Spencer,â You let out a heartbroken sigh, âI feel terrible. I was such a bad friend, and these past few weeks, all Iâve wanted to do is make it up to you.âÂ
You can feel the tears threatening to fill your vision, your cheeks burning in the cold as you let out a meek, âTell me thereâs something I can do to make it up to you,âÂ
Spencer can see your pleading eyes in the moonlight, and his chest tightens at the sight. Ignoring your calls and texts wasnât easy, but he was convinced that it was the right thing to do. You werenât ready to move on, and neither was heâ not completely, but he didnât want to try with anyone else. He only wanted to try with you.Â
He swallows thickly when he says a sweet âYouâve already done it,â Then youâre beaming at him, and heâs right back where he was three weeks ago. As you dry your misting eyes, he softly confesses, âI watched Youâve Got Mail.â He pauses, smiling lightly when you give him a surprised look through your tears. âI couldnât stop thinking about you, so Iââ He nervously moved his hands as he talked, âI watched any Romcom that I could get my hands on because IââÂ
You smile as he trails off, his hands twisting together in that nervous way that tells you heâs scared to say the rest of his sentenceâ heâs too afraid to say he missed you. âMe too,â You confess, âI missed you, too.â
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.Â
But, before he can say anything, youâre speaking, âI donât know if you still feel the same as you did three weeks ago, but Iââ You swallow hard, clearing your throat softly. Your hands move with you as you speak, the cold making them feel slightly stiff. âFor the longest time, I couldnât imagine myself happy with anyone other than Alex.â You blow out a sigh, glancing back at his tombstone. âI thought one great love was enoughâ I only deserved one. I was happy with that, and I felt lucky for it.âÂ
You can feel yourself trembling, and you donât know if itâs the cold or your nerves getting the better of you; nonetheless, you keep going, âBut lately, Iâve been thinkingâ hoping reallyâ that youâre the expectation.â You squeeze your eyes tight at that last bit, trying to calm your breathing as you wait for his response.Â
âIf anyone deserves more than one great love, itâs you.â Spencerâs voice sounds closer, soft.Â
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, âWe can take it slower,âÂ
âI like slower.âÂ
He laughs and nods, âMe too,â he holds out a cold hand for you to take, âLet me walk you to your car?âÂ
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.Â
Itâs not the last time you walk side-by-side, holding hands in the middle of the cold East Coast winter, and heâs determined to make sure itâs not your last.Â
And whenever anyone asks how the two of you met, Spencer lets you tell the story, his hand slipping into yours as you say, âWell, itâs a bit of a long story.â
#fanfiction#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid#x reader#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds x reader#dr spencer reid#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds#spencer x you#spencer reid fanfiction#doctor spencer reid#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid criminal minds#dr reid#spencer reid angst#spencer reid hurt/comfort#...and fall in love whenever you can#it-was-summer
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Okay okay okay I haven't seen any Mirage/Hound in the Mecha Pilot/Universe AU by @keferon (if there is I apologize I haven't seen every post) so here :)
Also I'm sorta kinda mashing together my version of this mecha AU, as there really isn't a sort of "canon" version of things (I have written Ratchet both as human and bot, so there ya go) ÂŻ\_(ă)_/ÂŻ
---
Henry was a simple guy who had lived a pretty (in his view, anyway) simple life. He had served in the military, got out when he had done his time, and had become a wildlife biologist for what was supposed to be the rest of his life.
Then they came, and his simple life was gone.
Xenobiology quickly became what he was known for, he and so many others using what they had learned to try and help the fight against the invaders go smoothly. He supposed it could have been worse; the mecha program was a far more brutal face than his dime-a-dozen lab, a lot of pilots dying more from their machinery than the aliens themselves. Jazz, the first pilot who seemed receptive to his friendly attempts to befriend those in that group, became one of the few Henry could call as a friend as they strived to protect Earth.
He even accepted the nickname Hound, the name a second skin Henry wasn't even aware he had been missing.
Then Jazz went missing, Hound there for his grieving brother as a mecha was merely put in Jazz's place, marking the first to leave. Ratchet retired (sort of, they knew he'd be dragged back eventually) shortly after, having grown tired of the constant death and overall burnout, promising that Hound could come to visit whenever he desired. The little guy First Aid stopped showing up in common areas after his whole Vortex incident, and as much as Hound was concerned for his friend, oddly enough, he did not question the haunted mecha that seemed to lurk when Hound visited his hangar.
Still, he persevered in helping to stop the threat to Earth, even when he started having breakdowns at the nonstop death. He couldn't jump fast enough when the MECHA program eventually offered him an off-site lab with housing, the buildings far enough away from their biggest main facility to be out of sight, but close enough where reinforcements could be sent out to protect their investment scientist in case of an attack. It helped to be surrounded by nature again, the smell of oil, metal, and all sorts of blood replaced with fresh air and as many plants as he could cram into the space. Sure, he was still dissecting alien biology and working on finding more weaknesses and potential uses, but it helped to be away from the worst of it all.
Maybe that break stops Hound from having a full-blown freakout when Jazz suddenly returns through some weird sort of portal, flanked by other mecha's that turn out to be alien sentient robots.
"Hound!" The pilot jumps out of his mecha and onto the hand of one of the robots, placed down on the grassy surface as Hound stares in awe. "It is so good to see you man!"
"Jazz?!" Hound drops the gun he (regrettably) used for protection as the pilot sprints over, the two falling back and onto the grass at the force of Jazz's impact, hugging the smaller man just as tight as the other was hugging him. "Holy shit you're still alive!"
"You know me, I'm too stubborn to die." Jazz's voice is bordering on hysteria, but Hound says nothing, freezing when one of the other mecha leans over them, its head tilted as glowing eyes slightly narrow. "U-Uh..."
"Prowler, ya gotta relax yea?" Hound stared as Jazz pulled back, craning his neck up with a grin at the massive alien, using the clawed finger(????) offered to get to his feet, one hand held out to Hound. "This is my buddy Hound I told you about, he's good me-people."
"It can understand you?" Hound took Jazz's hand and got up onto his feet, the other aliens crowding closer in curiosity as Jazz stepped on the offered palm, completely unphased as he was lifted into the air and set on a metallic shoulder.
"He, and they can! Hound, I'd like ya to meet my main mech Prowl to start with, he's the reason I made it home." The one, Prowl, stared down with a blank look, the two staring at each other for a beat before the mech nods his head, his doors (wings? They look like wings, which is really interesting) twitching when Jazz bonked his helmet against his cheek in a way that had the biologist doing a double-take. "What?"
"...did you get a boyfriend? Botfriend? Oh no that sounds so stupid." The former soldier slapped his hand over his face as Jazz started to cackle, the alien's own laughter that rippled through the crowd sounding as alien as it did almost human. "Forget I said that."
"Oh, never." The pilot only looked amused as he looked down at his friend, the air seeming to ease as the aliens loosened their stances, save Prowl. "To be fair, I tried that out too, and it does sound so stupid."
"Who are your other friends?" Hound rolled his eyes, eyeing the group with uncertainty. "Um, you all do understand me, right?"
"Of course, Jazz taught us your Earthen language." The second to shortest bot spoke up, their blue and white coloring catching Hound's interest. "I am Mirage, it is a pleasure to meet a friend of Jazz's."
"It's nice to meet you, Mirage."
---
Mirage did not understand this planet Earth, more specifically, why his fellow Cybertronians seemed to adjust to the planet with ease.
It was covered in organic matter, no matter where you looked.
While his attitude toward organics changed when Jazz was revealed, the person who practically forced the former noble into becoming a trusted friend, it did not mean he enjoyed dealing with organic nature. It usually meant they were in a place the Quintessons wanted, and he could see why Jazz and his people created shells to fight in; his planet was filled with more resources than he could have imagined. The latent feeling of energy (and for some reason energon, something to be investigated later) practically hovered in the air, and the Quintessons could feast for many years if they succeeded in getting a foothold.
Something these small organics had stopped, keeping a foothold despite being so fragile.
"You're brooding again."
"You know that I still do not know what that means."
"Sorry, it just means you're...lost in your thoughts, and judging by the frown on your face..plates? You seem upset is what I'm saying."
"...I am confused." Mirage had been idling outside of a market while waiting for Hound to do his shopping, his new alt mode gathering more than a few optics by the time the human had returned. Little protoforms had touched his side paneling before Hound had returned, and he could still feel their touch as he began to drive back to Hound's home. Once they had returned, Mirage had transformed to look at the small smudges on his arm plating, perched on one of the large rocks that littered the property until Hound had sought him out with a bucket in one hand. "I do not understand how my fellow Cybertronians are not...distressed by this constant organic matter."
"Well, I'm not really sure how to answer that." The organic looked up at Mirage with a servo on his hip, a friendly smile on his face. "Would you like me to help get those smudges off? Figure it's the least I can do."
"Very well." Hound worked in relative silence after Mirage transformed, the small cloth and polisher cream doing its job of removing any trace of a smudge. The human was humming as he worked, occasionally speaking to local wildlife that appeared not to understand his language that wandered nearby, a little whistle and movement of his hand sending them scattering. "Why do you speak to the wildlife?"
"Um...good question!" Hound chuckled as he carefully polished one of Mirage's door handles, making sure the inner part was just as clean as the outer. "Helps me pass the time, makes me feel like I'm not alone I guess. Don't you talk to uh, cyberbirds or something?"
"....Cyberbird?" Hound nearly started at the amused rumble Mirage's engine made, his face plate taking on a red hue Prowl had explained was a "blush". "Not as such, no. The closest animal I have seen you interact with that was similar to Cybertron was a turbo fox, albeit a lot less elegant."
"Aw, we might not be all fancy metal an' tech, but every animal can be elegant if you give them enough credit." Hound knelt down to get the last of the smudges on one of the wheel rims, using some bottled water to rinse off some sort of sticky residue. "I'd love to see what your wildlife looks like, your planet too."
"Perhaps one day, Cybertron is still very much a warzone that had not recovered enough from our own personal War."
"Mhm, we've got places like that here too." Hound sighed, dabbing some more polish on the smooth metal. "Part of why I left the military, I only want to help the planet, not destroy it. What's the point of fighting, only to have rubble and the dead to greet you when you're done?"
"That is a question I have asked myself for many vorns. When we were Autobot and Decepticon, I had been called a sympathizer merely because I wanted to try and end things peacefully, not with weapons and near extinction of our race." His spark pulsed painfully at the deaths that occurred before Earth was most likely even a planet, still a painful memory despite the time that passed.
"I'm sorry to hear that, you don't seem like that sort to me. Nothin' wrong with trying to use words instead of steel." Satisfied, Hound got up and onto his feet with a slight stretch, eyeing Mirage's frame with a smile. "There we go, as organic-free as I could make ya."
"It was very kind of you to do so." Mirage transformed in one fluid move, eyeing his plating with his first genuine smile. "I have not had such a thing done to me out of kindness in a very long time."
"Well, consider it me helping out a friend." Something squeezes his heart at the confused look that crosses Mirage's face for a moment, before he carefully kneels down and extends a finger (digit?).
"It is not a "handshake", but it is the best I can do." Mirage doesn't twitch when he feels the warm hands that wrap around his digit, Hound doing a mock shake, his EMF field cautiously reaching out to drape itself around the human.
"You're doing great, Mirage."
They both lie awake that night, wondering what was coming next.
---
He doesn't know what happened, only that one moment, a Quintesson was about to use its staff to stab Hound right in the chest, and the next, he's ripping its head from its body.
Safe/Confusion/Fear/Resolve
Where is Hound? Where is Mirage? Where are they?
A blast rockets past, and they react, HoundMirage lifting an alien gun to fire, a clean headshot taking out the Quintesson before them.
Something isn't right, he's not a pilotmecha, he's not a soldierspy
No, they're both and yet not, sparkheart beating as one as they fight, driving back the attacking force that had tried to take out the city that Ratchet was based out of these days, its denizens weirdly unsurprised about the new "mecha's". Jazz joins them in the fight until the last one is dead, his mecha holding its handsservos up as he regards them, HoundMirage itching for any more threats as optics flick around the now empty battlefield.
"Fellas? You alright?"
"YesNo, confusedscared?" A processor is halted by unfamiliar emotions, and a servohand reaches for their chestchassis, the outer armor opening to -
Mirage cycles his optics, shimmering out of sight when he feels something close, too close to the small thing trying to intake in his servos. Nothing can harm them, nothing would harm them, and it takes his processor a few klicks to realize the voices calling out to him were friendly. Jazz was in front of him with his servos still up, just spouting anything and everything while Bumblebee watched from just out of sight, making sure nothing was actually going to attack them despite looking in awe.
"Jazz?" His vocalizer sounds off, and he resets it as Jazz gives him a thumbs up. "What happened?"
"No idea, but you and Hound pretty much went berserker and took out most of the Quintessons. Henry, you alright there man?"
"Ask me when everything stops spinning." Hound wasn't sure what the hell was going on, but being in his bot's hands were really doing wonders, so he stayed where he was. "I don't normally talk like this, but what the fuck was that?! I thought you weren't mechas!"
"They're not." The pilot shrugged, Mirage remerging into view when Prowl clicked in warning. "C'mon, we've got to go before the lookie-loos start asking questions we can't answer."
"You're too late on that fact, son." Everyone looks down to see a lone human approaching them with an annoyed look on his face, pointing a wrench at Jazz's mecha. "Also when the hell were you goin' to tell me you made it back to Earth? Cybertron isn't exactly a hop and skip away."
"....what?" All of the alien mechs stared at the grumpy-looking human as Jazz cackled, Hound only amused as he watched Ratchet almost immediately get into an argument with a stunned Prowl.
A weird way to end what was shaping up to be a very weird day.
#personal#transformers#mecha pilot jazz au#tf mecha universe#jazzprowl#houndmirage#ratchlock#jazz#prowl#hound#mirage#ratchet#playing with them like dolls tbh
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Sinsmas HB episode drops very soon. Calling it right now from that teaser that the imps are going to either destroy a nativity/baby Jesus scene or shoot up a Christmas party of humans. Because edgy.
Oh shit, that's right, Anon, thanks for reminding me that Viv is supposed to be releasing the next episode of this shitshow by the end of this year.
And if I'm being honest, I could bet that it would be either that, what you're saying, or something like Apology Tour because Stolas needs to keep guilt-tripping Blitz, or even like Full Moon, where the B-plot served as a filler for the majority of the episode and the MAIN plot is literally reserved in the end, after enduring pointless shit.
Either way, it won't be good, it won't fix Stolitz and the show will keep doubling down, so I think I'll spare my eyes and ears from all that suffering and watch something more beautiful like Lackadaisy or TADC.
Oh, and don't forget that this is the episode where Octavia gets victimblamed and she'll get torn to shreds by the standom because she dared to rightfully call out her stupidly neglectful father, so yay, I guess.
Reminder of what I'm talking about btw, and yes, Sinsmas IS the episode where these storyboards come from, so... Don't hold your expectations too high... assuming you had any for this shitty dumpster fire of an animated fanfic.
#vivziepop critical#vivziepop criticism#save octavia#octavia#via deserves better#octavia deserves better#save via#fuck stolas#anti stolas#stolas critical#helluva critique#anti helluva boss#helluva boss critical#helluva boss criticism#helluva boss critique#helluva critical#fuck vivziepop#anti vivziepop#anon ask#ask reply#ask and ye shall receive#video post
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GINGERBREAD HOUSE | NANAMI KENTO
syn. nanami never made himself to be a jack of all trades, but he thought building a gingerbread house would be this difficult.
ââ nanami kento & fem-bodied!reader, established relationship, slight food play, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, heavy doting & lots of kissing, sickeningly sweet & loving smut | 4.0k words ( minors, ageless & blank blogs: do not interact )
note. this was my submission for my cookbook collaboration. . . please take this as an apology.
He squinted heavily as he held the piping bag, constantly shifting and moving his hold on it as he tried to remain steady. Heart racing as he held his breath, he glanced your way. You were well-concentrated at the task at hand as well, eyebrows knitted together as your tongue poked out. Your piping bag held accurately as youâre already on the next side of the gingerbread house, the semi-circular shingles of the roof perfectly aligned with white frosting. How are you doing it so perfectly?Â
âYouâre thinking too hard about it,â you say. You didnât need to look at Nanami's way to feel the tense air, how his hands trembled and practically shook the table, calling you to be extra careful in this friendly competition.Â
You had bought two sets of gingerbread houses, elated when you saw them at the store while grocery shopping a couple of days ago. You didnât think twice about it then, coming home to spark up the idea of seeing who can make better gingerbread houses. You knew that Nanami was always down for whatever, making sure to align time in his schedule to accommodate you, his lovely wife.Â
Initially when he agreed, he didnât think it could be so hard to decorate huge chunks of cookie, thinking it would be an easy challenge. And he would never admit it to anyone, but he did have a competitive side to him. You knew that, even though he always tried to deny it, so seeing him now, struggling over something and the anxiety of possibly losing protruding off of him, was quite comical. âJust⊠relax.â
âEasy for you to say,â Nanami grumbles, a vein running along his forehead as his face reddened from absentmindedly holding his breath. âYours looks perfect.âÂ
There it is, you giggled to yourself, a devious smile on your face as you kept your eyes on your gingerbread house. You had to admit to yourself, it was coming out better than you initially thought it would. You donât blame your husband for his envyâ not one bit. However, you wouldnât be a good wife if you gloated, but then again, no couple was perfect. âIt is, isnât it?â
Finally, you look over at your husbandâs side of the table, taking in the horrendous sight that is his gingerbread house. You had to swallow back your laughter as your eyes slightly bulged out. He had gotten it to stand on the four walls, but it was lopsided. It was as though if you were to blow on it with one huff, it would fall down. The icing was in disarray, deeply contrasting from your tidy and curved strokes, as his went in every which direction they wanted to and most of it was smudged. It was a disastrous sight that Hansel and Gretel would never step foot into.Â
âYours, on the otherhandâŠâ You trail off with a playful grimace, biting on your bottom lip as you dragged out a âhmmmmmâŠâ
Nanami dropped his piping bag down at your teasing, face falling in a deadpan expression that wanted to crack when he saw you trying to hold in your laughter. The corners of his lips curved up as he crossed his arms. âIâm starting to think you wanted me to fail.â
You faltered, a grin plastered on your face as your nose scrunched up. âNo, I didnât.â
There was some truth in your admittance. You never started this to see Nanami be bad at it, only wanting to draw out that competitive nature he subdued so much. You enjoyed seeing the fire in his eyes when he felt like he was going to win, how heâd get so motivated to do something. However, he was also a cute sore loser and heâd silently sulk throughout the day because of his loss. But, most of all, you just wanted to spend some quality time with your husband as the holidays drew near and his work days became longer. Building these gingerbread houses together was a way to be together.Â
âMmm,â Nanami hums in faux pondering as he draws near you, caging you against the table. âNo, I think you did.â
You set down your piping bag next on the table, feeling Nanamiâs hands pull you into him as you giggle, shaking your head in protest. âNo, youâre just bad at this.â
He cocks up an eyebrow, still questioning your true intentions. One hand slithers away from your waist, reaching further behind you to swipe away at your frosting. You watch his actions, gasping as he messes up your fine work. You push at his chest, watching how he sucks off his fingers with a hearty chuckle despite your âhey!â You pout as your husband tries to go for another swipe, but you slap away his hand just in time. âJust because your work is botched, doesnât mean you can make mine the same.â
âDonât worry,â Nanami hums. âIâll fix it back for you.â
You scoff, rolling your eyes as he snickers. âOh, you mean, youâll just ruin it even more. No, thanks.â
âWhat are we even supposed to do with them afterwards? Eat them?â Nanami asks, not used to your western customs.
âNo,â you snort. âThrow them away. Gingerbread houses taste disgusting.â
âWhat?â he asks, shocked. âSo, you just bought these to let them get on my nerves and then throw them away?â
âI love it when you get all whiny,â you comment, before shaking your head. âBut, no. I bought them because I thought it would be a fun thing to do. I didnât expect you to fail so badly.â
âYâknow, you couldâve sugarcoated it a bit,â Nanami frowns, leaning into you, his breath dancing against your skin. âMake me feel like I didnât do half as bad as I actually did.â
âI couldâve,â you frown, meeting him halfway, feeling the heat of each otherâs skin. ââM sorry.â
âYouâre all forgiven,â Nanami chuckles. He loves the taste of you against his lips, how when he reaches up to caress your face, it melds so well into his hands, like youâre just the perfect fit. He loves how you just melt into him no matter what, putting in all the trust in him that heâll keep you afloat. Whenever he kisses you, he feels wholeâ like both of you are sharing one breath.Â
He pulls you closer into him, hands wrapped around your waist, tugging at the silk fabric of your robe, bunching it up together as he grips you tightly. Your nails dig through the cotton of his t-shirt, arms wrapped around his neck as you meet his love with your lips. You sigh in contempt, tasting the sweetness of the frosting on his tongue as he explores you. It pulls a moan from your tantalizing lips, making him want more in a matter of seconds the longer the two of you stay like this.Â
And he feels like the sun in your arms, the heat of his skin wrapped around you like a comfortable weighted blanket. They hold you with security, even as they begin to travel down your body. The palm of his hands are smooth, fingers behind your lower thigh before hoisting your leg up to his waist. Nanami grounds himself into you, his growing erection becoming more prominent with the seconds passing. Youâre so willing to reciprocate your name, hips bucking into him as your nails dig continue digging into his back, trying to pull him impossibly closer to you.Â
Nanami hoists you up on the table, fingers digging into your lower back as he becomes needier for you as he leans further into you. You nearly lose your balance, hands hitting Nanamiâs ruined art and tumbling down. Both of you retract and you canât hold back the snort that leaves you while Nanami playfully rolls his eyes. âYou just had to go and make it worse.â
âItâs your fault,â you giggle, bringing your hand to taste the frosting thatâs got on you. Nanami watches carefully, watching how your tongue sticks out sucking off the sweet and white dessert off of your fingers. It has his cock twitching inside of his pants, wanting nothing more than to have you right on this table. Instead, however, he nips at your bottom lip, his brown eyes hooded. His thumb rubs soothing circles into your hips, pulling you closer to the edge. Chaste little kisses that traverse from the corner of your lips to your cheeks and down to the nape of your neck, each one filled with his love and need for you as he takes more time with each one. He adjusts the bonnet on your head, moving it out of his way as he hyper-fixates on this one particular spot. Your breathing becomes staggered, a moan being pulled from your lips as your grip on your husband tightens. âIsâ Is this my pr-prize⊠for winning?â
He creates a dark blotched spot on your delicate skin, prideful of his marvelous work as he pulls away. He inhales you, his nose drawing a line to the crevice of your breasts, smelling the faint scent of the twisted peppermint body mist that you sprayed on in the early morning after stepping out of the shower. He finds everything about you addicting, finds every nook and cranny of your body to be a perfection that heâs been blessed to have. Heâs not ignoring you on purpose, so caught up in everything thatâs you that heâs momentarily forgotten what was even asked. âIt could,â he hums. âIf you want it to be.â
âIâd like it to,â you breathe.Â
âThen, I better do a good job, huh?â Nanami chuckles, retreating back to your cleavage. His fingers play with the silky string of your robe before it falls with the rest of the garment, the sleeves of it slipping off of your shoulders, revealing your bare upper body to be marveled by your husband. He creates dark blotches in your skin, covering them in his love marks as he takes his precious time. Arousal pools from you, and with your lack of clothing and certainly your lack of underwear, it drips from your sweet cunt down to the fabric underneath as it remains untouched for the time being.Â
You remain as salacious as youâve been since the first time heâs tasted you, lips wrapping around your left areola, tonguing at your dark nub with such a dangerous need that you fear you might lactate. He always finds himself enamored with your body, where he could spend hours if you allowed him, fixated with a specific area. For an ample amount of time, his lips jump from one breast to another to create sweet hickeys and plastering his love onto your nipplesâ kissing, sucking and nipping at the delicate skin before you have to forcefully pry him off you.
âKentoâŠâ you whine, finally managing to pull him away. Gently connecting foreheads, he pulls you in for yet another kiss, a sweet one that lasts for a mere couple of seconds before youâre retracting once more. âKentoâŠâ
âWhat?â he grumbles, his voice coarse as he frowns. âWhy wonât my wife let me love on her?â
âBecause your wife has other places she wants to be loved on, too,â you pout, lolling your head to the side.Â
âHave I ever told you that patience is a virtue?â Nanami hums, pulling at your bottom lip with his. You canât help but nudge him.
âYeah, and too much can hurt you,â you retort. âSo, I donât think itâs best to keep me waiting much longer.â
He snorts at your rebuttal, but giving into your needs nonetheless as he drops to his knees, spreading your legs open wider for him and shifting your robe out of the way to reveal your beautiful pussy. Oh, how it glistens with your love for him, your juices decorating your folds in something sweeter than the gumdrops and candy-coated chocolate pieces laying in bowls. His painfully hard cock sitting in his pants stirs in need for you as he drags your hips closer to the edge of the table. A whisper comes out, âYouâre so wet for me.â
âArenât I always,â you say, gnawing on your bottom lip as you shimmy your hips closer to him in anticipation.Â
In every moment that he spends with you, Nanami cherishes it, always thinking that heâs the luckiest guy to have a partner that is as amazing as you. He holds so much love for you that itâs suffocating. A deep fire that settles on his chest, where times like these are detrimental. You have to catch yourself, nearly screaming out in fright when Nanami pulls you down to give your cunt a taste. Your heart races from the quick scare as well as the feeling of the wet pink muscle that glides against your clit. The dark nub that pulsates in its pleasure as Nanami has a tight hold on you, leaving you secure in his arms.Â
Heâs so gentle with your pussy, the way he laps at it. Soft and tandem kisses placed with the utmost care before his tongue dives in between your folds, loving the way your juices pour out on his tongue. Youâre insatiable, your pussy calling out his name as he plants feverish kisses on it. He salivates, further lubricating your cunt as he hums and moans against you. He ignores the ache in his knees, the pain of the marble tiles already biting him in the ass.Â
Your moans are high-pitched and proving to be torture to your dear husbandâs erection as precum leaks from his urethra, the tip of it rubbing against the cotton restraints of his boxer briefs. Your body struggles to decide what it wants, twisting and squirming but ultimately wanting more. Your arms grow weak as you try to find leverage, this time knocking down your own gingerbread house as you hear the pieces beginning to fall. Hand covered in frosting, youâre about to wipe it off on the table when you feel Nanamiâs strong arms wrap around your waist, retracting his lips from you.Â
âDonât,â he says, taking your hand and putting it to his lips. The sultry sight only continues to make your pussy salivate, your slick dribbling down in a web pointed towards the ground as you watch Nanami clean you off, only leaving a wet trail of his spit behind. A âfuckâ falls from you as your eyes widen, clenching around nothing when you buck your hips out. The action sparks an idea in Nanamiâs mind, his piping bag reaching lengths where he only has to stretch out and grab it without much effort.Â
Your eyes follow him, where the moment itâs in his hands, you can already see the gears shifting inside of his mind. Nanami fixes you back on the table, a few drops of frosting hitting the ground before letting out a sigh. âLay down for me?â
All it takes is a quick nod from you before Nanamiâs helping you lay down, shifting the confectionate houses aside to have you well situated, guiding you to lay down without hitting your head or anything stabbing you in your back.
With the piping bag in hand, he raises it as the contents continue to drip and fall down, making a mess thatâll wait to be cleaned up. You canât help but giggle, smiling as you peer up at your husband. âYâsure you know what youâre doing with that?â
âFor someone who wants her prize,â Nanami starts, âYouâre sure working on losing it fast.â
âYou wouldnât dare stop.â
âI would.â He doesnât however, using the piping bag to draw horrible art against your bare skin. It tickles, making your body flex and contract when the frosting touches you. You canât control the small giggles and laughs that fall from your lips. And itâs so contagious as Nanami canât help but join in with you. Heâs painted a masterpiece in his eyes, drawing the shape of you as white traverses from your lips to the shape of your breasts down to your thighs. You look marvelous in his eyes, only a treat waiting to be devoured in its fullest glory. He feels like a god with you being his pretty little offering, prepped by his people.Â
The wooden table creaks with his weight, leaning down to capture you. The frosting smudges, his tongue reaching to eat the delicacy. Itâs a messy sight, one that an artist would be captivated to capture on their canvas, watching how Nanami inches downward. Your hands go to tangle themselves in his blonde locks, massaging his scalp as he creates more darkened artwork into your neck.Â
The salt of your skin mixed with the sweet sugar is a combination perfection as he goes and goes further down your body. He grabs at your thighs, the frosting that covers them sticking to him but not something heâll fret about now as he grounds himself against your wet pussy. And when heâs truly satisfied, believing that heâs baptized you in his spit, the white that contrasts the skin of your upper thighs still waits to be devoured. Theyâre clean in a matter of seconds as Nanamiâs patience wears thin, your legs back open as the vulnerable are exposed to his taking. Some of the frosting has found its way to the curls of your pubes, which Nanami has no shame in wiping clean. He takes a moment to inhale you, his nose nuzzling into the warmth of you before kissing your clit.
âGosh,â he groans. âYouâre the sweetest thing Iâve ever had.â
You bring yourself to sit up as Nanami comes back to his feet. He strips himself of the t-shirt, the excess frosting making a mess of his face in the process. Before he can get himself out of his pants, youâre pulling him by the back of his neck. Your tongue sticks out, swiping at the grains of frosting on his cheek. âSo are you.â
You suck the air out of him, always managing to have stars form in his eyes. These subtle things that youâre not aware of all the time, whether itâs something as mundane as cooking dinner or now, where you have somehow managed to one-up him at his own game. Heâs completely bare in a matter of seconds, panting pooling at his feet before heâs kicking them off and his cock springs free. His tip is red in need as his length stands prominent against his abdomen. His tip kisses your clit before it pokes at your entrance.
âCâmon, Kento.â Your hands tremble in anticipation, where you have to hold your weight using your elbows.Â
âYouâre so impatient, doll,â he breathes. Despite the statement, the head of cock is quick to push through your entrance, making you mewl out from the stretch. No matter how many times heâs been sheathed inside of you, youâre as tight as the day he first had you. Your juices make it easy with each and every push of his length inside of you, not stopping until his pelvis meets yours. He has to take a moment to bask in your heart, how your sweet pussy envelopes his cock in a vice grip thatâs addicting and never making him want to leave.
Your legs wrap around his waist, making him go deeper inside of you, finally pulling him away from your pussy enchantment. Retracting his hips until only the tip is in you, he thrusts back inside. His movement is languid, cock digging sweetly into your walls. Your head falls back as your hips roll in a deep need for him. Your back arches off the table as your mouth falls into the shape of an âO.â Each thrust is a calculated one, careful as he wants you to memorize his love by the way he moves his cock. From shallow ones that have you begging for more to deep thrusts that hit that special spot inside, having you squeak out your moans. âKentoâŠâ
He pulls you to sit up, your chest pressing against his as he hikes up one leg to the table, getting deeper and deeper within you. His forehead touches yours, nose meeting nose as your breaths dance together. His brown eyes stare into your glossy ones, a deep need for each other being shared as you hold eye contact. âYes, my love? Am I upholding my promise to you?â
You nod, a stray tear dropping down onto the dark wood. âY-Yes,â you cry. âYou always make me feel so good. IâI love you so much.â
âYeah?â He asks, to which you nod again. âI love you, too. So much more, in fact.â
You want to negate his statement, but he captures you for a kiss to silent you. He knows you all too well, swallowing away the thought from your mind completely as he fucks you on his cock. Arms wrapped around him, you grind your hips down as you feel that familiar coil in your stomach. Butterflies dance around in there as you feel your cunt pulsate, squeezing Nanamiâs length at your impending orgasm. You mewl against his lips, not having to say a word to signal whatâs to come. He can feel himself approaching as well, your near orgasm always calling for him to join alongside you whenever heâs inside you.Â
His thrusts grow rougher, bringing your hips down with force as he chases for euphoria. Your body tenses up, feeling that band snap as you cry out against his lips. Finally, Nanami pulls away as you cream around his cock.Â
âKento,â you cry, repeating his name like a mantra as you canât find any other word besides it.Â
âI got you, my love,â Nanami pants as you paint the base of his cock in a milky white as his cock twitches inside of you, spilling his seed in the depths of you. The smooth rhythm becomes sloppy as he rides out his high inside of you before pulling out and having you rest on the table. When your heartbeat slows and the hearts from your eyes dissipate being brought back to reality, you feel Nanamiâs head against your chest. You can feel it, his copious amount of cum dripping out of you, smearing against Nanamiâs skin. You moan at the loss as your hands travel to Nanamiâs blonde hair.Â
From your peripheral vision, you can see your work shoved to the far corner of the table as you remember what exactly sparked this chain of events. It reminds you of how in Nanamiâs misery, you mightâve had an unfair trick right up your sleeves. Reverting your eyes, your finger combs through his hair as a sigh leaves you. It sparks Nanami's concern, picking up his head to glance at you. âSomething on your mind so soon, or are you just basking in the present?â
âIf Iâm being honest,â you gnaw on your bottom lips, eyes averting Nanamiâs at your soon confession. âI did practice with the piping bag while you were at work.â
You were expecting for him to be shocked, perhaps a bit mad at your âcheating,â but if anything, Nanami wasnât either of those. Instead, with a gentle nod, he hums. âI expected much.â
âYou did?â your eyes widen. âHow?â
âBabe, you couldnât icing a cake two weeks ago,â Nanami deadpans. âYouâre expecting me to believe that you mastered the talent miraculously?âÂ
âHey!â you playfully slap at his chest. âI couldâve just been lucky today!â
Nanami shakes his head, silently telling you, not a chance, before looking over at your gingerbread house. Itâs tumbled into pieces for sure, but some of your work doesnât go under-appreciated by the mess.Â
âNow, that Iâm looking closer,â he smirks. âIt doesnât look as good as I had originally thought it did.â
âNow youâre just trying to get under my skin.â You pull your arms from around him, crossing them around your chest. Nanami chuckles, nose nuzzling into the nape of your neck.Â
âIf I wanted to do that, I would just start fucking you again, darling.â
( đą ) : @r0ckst4rjk @kasukuna @pixelcafe-network @satsattoru
#nanami kento x reader#nanami x reader#nanami kento smut#nanami smut#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk smut#nanami kento x you#nanami x you#jujutsu kaisen#nanami kento#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen smut#x reader#tw: (n)sfw#áŻâ
standalone.
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I'm thinking of some Christmas catstappen comfort. Particularly max making himself at home in the wrapping paper cupboard and only accepting sitting in reader's lap as payment while they're wrapping presents (and then playing with a wrapping paper ball as a treat)
Catstappen part 15 â cat!Max x reader x werewolf Daniel
Fluff
I have to make a new master list but if you search cat!max in my search bar all parts will pop up
@moss-on-tmblr @st4rshine @vivwritesfics
The wrapping paper cupboard was chaotic. Rolls of festive paper were jumbled together, ribbons spilled out of their spools, and somehow, an orange cat with pale blue eyes had made himself at home right in the middle of it all.
âMax,â you sighed, leaning against the doorframe. He blinked at you, entirely unimpressed, his tail swishing back and forth like a metronome.
âOut,â you said firmly, pointing to the floor.
Max did not move.
Instead, he stretched languidly, his paws pressing into a particularly glittery roll of paper, leaving faint claw marks. His blue eyes gleamed with a challenge.
âDonât make me bribe you,â you warned.
If cats could smirk, you were sure Max just did.
With a dramatic sigh, you reached into your pocket, pulling out a small crumpled ball of wrapping paper youâd been planning to toss later. His ears perked up instantly.
âCome on,â you coaxed, wiggling the paper ball.
He finally leaped down, landing gracefully on the floor. You thought youâd wonâuntil he promptly hopped onto your lap as soon as you sat down to wrap presents.
âMax!â
His weight was solid but comforting, his head butting against your chest as his purr rumbled like distant thunder.
âI need to wrap,â you tried, but he settled more firmly, curling into a ball of orange fluff.
You sighed, reluctantly reaching for the first gift and a roll of snowflake-patterned paper. Maxâs tail flicked occasionally, brushing against the paper as you worked, but he seemed content to stay putâfor now.
That was until you dropped a scrap of ribbon on the floor. Maxâs head shot up, his blue eyes tracking the ribbon like a predator locked onto its prey.
âDonât you dare,â you warned, but he was already off, batting the ribbon across the floor.
A few minutes later, he was in the corner, wrestling with a new ball of crumpled paper, his purring audible even from across the room.
âNext year, Iâm locking you out,â you muttered, though your smile betrayed you.
Max paused his play, glancing back at you with a smug flick of his tail before pouncing on the paper ball again.
âYouâre ridiculous you know that rightâ you say as you put the presents around the tree while Max plays with the balled-up Christmas wrapping paper scraps.
âMeowâ you heard from the other side of the room rolling your eyes as you continued to rearrange the present.
In the reflection of a shiny red ornament, you saw Max shift into his human form from his hand behind his back hiding something as he snuck up on you.
âMerry Christmas Schatâ
âMax,â you said slowly, turning around to face him. âWhat are you doing?â
He shrugged, feigning innocence, though his smirk gave him away. âJust wanted to say Merry Christmas.â
âWith something behind your back?â you asked, narrowing your eyes.
He tilted his head like he always did as a cat, the picture of faux curiosity. âWhat, this?â His hand came into view, revealingâof all thingsâa sprig of mistletoe dangling between his fingers.
âSeriously?â You folded your arms, glaring at him. âYouâve been a cat for the past two hours, tormenting me, and now you pull this?â
âSchajte,â he said, his voice low and smooth, the nickname rolling off his tongue like it was meant to. The way he said it made your stomach flip in ways you hated to admit. âConsider it an apology.â
You wanted to stay mad, truly, but the glint in his eyes and the ridiculous mistletoe had your resolve wavering. His smirk softened into something more genuine as he stepped closer, holding the sprig above both of you.
âYouâre insufferable,â you muttered, your pulse quickening as he leaned in.
âAnd yet,â he teased, his voice a warm hum against your skin, âyou keep me around.â
Before you could retort, he closed the distance, brushing his lips against yours in a kiss that was surprisingly soft, surprisingly tender. His free hand cupped the back of your head, anchoring you to him, and for a moment, all your irritation melted away, replaced by something much warmer.
When he finally pulled back, his grin returned, more smug than ever. âMerry Christmas, schat .â
You blinked, your brain scrambling to catch up as he turned and casually sauntered back to the corner where heâd left his crumpled paper ball. In one smooth motion, he shifted back into his feline form, curling up on the floor like nothing had happened.
âUnbelievable,â you muttered, touching your lips and glaring at the smug orange cat now watching you with half-lidded eyes.
#f1#f1 x reader#formula one x reader#faiths inboxesđ„đš#formula one imagine#formula one x you#f1 x y/n#formula one x oc#formula one x y/n#max verstappen#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen x you#max verstappen x daniel ricciardo#max verstappen x female reader#max verstappen one shot#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen fluff
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Silent Bonds: Chapter Two.
(divider by @kodaswrld)
> Chapter One
Word Count: 2.2k
Warnings: Swearing, descriptions of gore, mentions of abuse, fighting? (I feel like I skipped a bit of stuff but I didn't feel the need to write all of it since no one else does)
You didn't know when you had fallen asleep, but you were aware you did once you woke up to the sound of people arguing; you sat up and rubbed the grogginess from your eyes before you got up, grunting softly and peeking out through the flaps of your tent, looking around the camp for the commotion. Your eyes landed on Andrea as she stood before Carol, talking back to Ed as he tried to get Carol to go with him.
You got up from your sleeping bag and walked outside your tent, running a hand through your hair as you walked over to them. "What's going on here??" you asked as you stood next to Andrea and Carol, looking over at Amy and Jacqui before looking at Ed. "Is there a problem, Ed?" you asked as you looked at him, eyebrows furrowing with annoyance.
Ed looked at the five of you and scoffed as he shook his head. "You know what? This ain't none of y'all business," he said as he shifted. "Yall don't wanna keep prodding the bull here, okay? Now I'm done talking. Come on." he continued as he grabbed Carol's arm, pulling her along. As the four of you tried to console Carol, Ed turned around and snapped, yelling and slapping her across the face.Â
"Ed, what the fuck?!" You shouted as you shoved him, Amy and Jacqui pulling her away as you and Andrea yelled at Ed. Before you knew it, Shane strode over and pulled him away from you guys, shoving him to the ground and punching him in the face. Carol gasped and covered her mouth as you all stood and watched him, yelling at him to stop before he pulled Ed up close.
"You put your hands on your wife, your little girl, or anybody else one more time. I will not stop next time, do you hear me??" he pointed in his face as he glared at him, Ed slurring in agreement as Shane punched him one last time before getting up and walking away. Carol ran over to him as she cried and apologized. You stood there watching Shane walk off, putting your hands on your hips. "Jesus Christ.." you muttered.
â--
Daryl, Rick, Glenn, and T-Dog got to the building' where they had left Merle, fighting their way through walkers before making their way up the stairs. "Merle! Merle!" Daryl shouted as they made it to the roof. Rushing over to see where he was, his stomach dropped as he looked over at the piece of metal Rick had handcuffed Merle to, seeing his hand on the floor. Daryl shifted on his feet and bit his lip as he cried out. "No!"Â taking a few steps, he paced around, looking away. His cries of denial continued to ring in the air, breathing heavily before turning around and pointing his crossbow at T-Dog; Rick immediately pointed his gun at Daryl.Â
They stayed silent for a few moments before Rick spoke up. "I won't hesitate. I don't care if every walker in the city hears it," he muttered as he stared at Daryl. Daryl bit his lip as he felt his emotions building up, quickly swallowing them down as he stepped away. He looked at T-Dog quietly before speaking up.Â
"Got..got a do-rag or somethin'?" he asked. T-Dog fished a rag from his pants pocket and handed it to him. Daryl snatched it from his hands and made his way over to Merle's hand, picking it up, wrapping it in the rag, walking over to Glenn, putting it in his backpack, and following the blood trail as the men followed behind him, making their way back downstairs. "Merle?? You in 'ere???"Â Daryl called out as they made their way downstairs.Â
They looked around and saw a few walkers on the floor as they walked through the building. "Had enough in 'em to take out these two sumbitches. One-handed," he muttered as he looked down at the bodies, putting his crossbow down to reload it. "Toughest asshole I ever met, ma' brother," he continued as he picked his crossbow up before they continued walking.
â--
After night had settled, you made your way over to the campfire after sorting out your clothes in the tent, ensuring everything you had was put away. You had planned to leave in the morning with Daryl and his brother when they got back; as much as you loved the rest of the group, you knew they weren't gonna let Merle stay with the rest of them. And if Merle wasn't staying, then neither was Daryl, and neither were you. You had tried hard to find him before and weren't about to let him go again.
You sat down near Carol and smiled at her, taking the plate she handed you with a small "thanks" before you started to eat, humming in delight as your tastebuds danced happily. Everyone laughed and ate around the fire as they talked about Dale's watch. You put your plate down and got up so Amy could use the bathroom.
"I think I'm gonna head to bed now. Have a good night, you guys. Don't be too loud," You teased with a smile before you retreated to your tent with a sigh. You tossed your crossbow on the blanket before you sat down and tampered with it, biting your lip as you brushed your fingers against the small engraved 'D' on the side. As you were about to get ready for bed, you heard screaming; your head shot up as you grabbed the crossbow once more and ran out of your tent, looking around as everyone ran or fought back at the walkers who were entering the camp.
You aimed at one of them and pierced its skull with your bolt before tugging it out of the walker's head and catching up with the others as you fought off the dead. As you were about to shoot at one of the walkers, a bolt shoots by and takes it down. Looking around, you spot Daryl running over with Rick and the other two, nodding over to him, you turn around and take care of the ones behind you, Daryl staying close to you as everyone helps bring down the horde. Daryl looked at you once everything was clear, his eyes filled with uncertainty before everyone looked at Andrea, kneeling over her sister Amy and crying.
The next morning, everyone started taking care of the bodies; Andrea didn't move an inch from her sister, staying there all night and staring at her as if she had no thought left. You pulled your knife out and helped dispose of the walkers left over. Looking over at Daryl as he stabbed their heads with a pickaxe before moving on to the next. With a soft sigh, you followed him, watching Lori go over to speak with Andrea. You looked back at Daryl and reached out to touch his arm.
"Hey, did you find Merle?" You asked as you watched him tense at your touch for a moment before crushing another walker's head. "No, no, I didn't," he muttered as he looked at you, a frown on his face."Â He's alive, out there somewhere, dumbass cut off his fuckin' hand to get out of them cuffs, cauterized the nub." he scoffed as he bit the inside of his cheek. You looked at him surprised and huffed.
"Gross..but he knew you were coming for him; maybe he thought the walkers would get him, so he did what he thought was best." You rubbed his arm gently and smiled. "It's Merle, Daryl. He's not gonna die out here, he was made for this world." you laughed softly, earning a slight smirk from him. Daryl nodded as he looked back down at the walker. "Yeah, guess yer right.." he pulled your hand from his arm and squeezed it. "Yer alright, right? Didn't get bit or nothin?"Â he asked as he looked back at you before letting your hand go.
You shook your head as you smiled. "If I did, I don't think I'd be standing here talking to you now, would I?" you snorted and wiped the sweat from your forehead, seeing Daryl smile before he started walking back. "Yeah, shut up.." he muttered as you followed behind him. Standing off to the side, you watched him carry the bodies and yell at the others. You shook your head and sighed as you frowned, covering your face with your hand at his temper.
You followed Daryl around and helped him drag the bodies of your deceased groupmates, whining softly as some blood splattered on you when Daryl dropped it with the others. "Daryl, you got it all over me!" you growled as you looked up at him. He looked over at you and snorted as he reached over and wiped the blood off your face with his shirt.Â
"Not ma' damn fault you was in the way, Sunshine," he smirked and looked at you; you blushed slightly at the feel of his hand and shook your head, nipping his side with your fingers. "Was not!" you stuck your tongue out. He let out a grunt at the pinch. "Alrigh' that's it," he muttered, turning you around before picking you up and lifting you over his shoulder. "Yer done." he carried you over to the pile of bodies and pretended to drop you on top of them.Â
You gasped as you grasped his shirt tightly and whined. "No, no, no, Daryl, don't you dare!." Daryl laughed and dropped you over his shoulder, but stopped to catch you by your waist and set you down on the ground. "I ain't gon' do that, why yer always thinkin' the worst of me?" he looked down at you with a smile. You looked up at him as you huffed, smacking his chest and smiling back. "You're an idiot, Dixon," you muttered as you turned away to help Carol with Ed, unaware that Daryl had his eyes on you as you walked away.
â--
Everyone was on the road after a few hours of planning and paying your respects to those who didn't make it. Rick had decided that everyone would go and check the CDC. You planned to ride in the RV with the kids, but Daryl told you he wanted you to ride with him, so here you were, sitting in the passenger seat of his truck and following behind the RV in a comfortable silence between the two of you. You glanced at Daryl and bit your bottom lip before breaking the silence.Â
"I feel like I haven't been in this truck since forever.." You murmured as you looked around it, smiling. Daryl looked over at you for a minute before he looked back at the road, scoffing. "Yeah, right, you were in 'ere like two weeks ago.." he muttered as he drove. You frowned as you shook your head. "Not the point, asshole.." you crossed your arms and turned towards the window, frowning. You heard Daryl let out a small snort as he continued to drive.
After you all made it to the CDC, you stepped out of Daryl's truck carefully, looking around as you followed the group down the street to the entrance of the building. You stepped over the rotten bodies of walkers that smelled worse than anything you've ever smelled in your lifeâwell, other than Daryl, of course. It immediately made you cover your nose, gagging. Daryl was behind you, watching for any signs of danger, and the smell did not even affect him.
Once everyone made it to the entrance, Rick and Shane tried opening the door, pushing and pulling on it, and then pounding on it out of luck. T-Dog was panting as he spoke. "There's nobody here," he said as he looked at Rick. Rick turned to look at them as he looked at T-Dog.Â
"Then why are these shutters down?" Rick asked as he looked back over towards the door. Daryl turned around as he put you behind him, announcing that there were walkers as he shot one. You turned as you pulled your crossbow out and helped him. "You led us into a graveyard!" Daryl shouted at Rick angrily as he grabbed your arm and pulled you close with them to the door. Shane shoved Daryl back as he yelled at Rick; you pulled Daryl close as you watched the walkers begin to close in on you.Â
Between the sound of Rick yelling at the camera on the door and everyone trying not to panic, you wouldn't have heard the door open if there wasn't a bright light shining out at all of you; you raised your hand over your eyes as you looked over at the door, Daryl's hand tightened on your arm as he pulled you closer, putting you in front of him. You looked up at him questioningly before he pushed you forward, pushing you inside of the building as everyone else followed suit, not caring at the moment at the danger that could become of the place; the only thing he cared about was making sure you were inside and safe.
Thank you for reading Silent Bonds: Chapter Two. Sorry it took so long! I hope you guys enjoyed it. I spent a long time on this one watching the show back and forth lol <3
Taglist: @dixons-sunshine, @missriddle03, @imadisneyprincessiswear, @raddydaddydude, @lunajay33, @trainboom, @l0kilaufeys0n7
#norman reedus#daryl dixon#twd daryl#daryl dixon twd#the walking dead#daryl x reader#daryl dixon the walking dead#the walking dead daryl#twd#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixon fanfiction#daryl dixon x you#silent bonds
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Elbert/Kate/Alfons
tags: hurt/comfort; established relationship, m/m/f word count: 1.4k
The last thing she wanted to do was leave Elbert there on his own, but the moment she heard the faintest of falling footsteps out in the hall, she rushed out of their bedroom.Â
She was clad only in her nightgown, her feet bare as she raced down the stairs, heart pounding. It was hours past midnight, yet dawn was still too far off to begin chasing the darkness away. The thought of leaving Elbert alone in their room for even a second, shivering and gasping with tears in his eyes, it wrenched her heart into piecesâŠÂ
But on nights like this, she didnât always know what to say, how to calm him or distract him. Not like how Alfons did, at least. She was still learning, still struggling to find the right words or actions, uncertain if a thought would be triggering or comforting, uncertain of everything.Â
She stopped on the bottom of the stairs, feet frozen from the chill and the panic, and then her eyes met Alfonsâs ashen-grey gaze as he returned from one of his nights on the town. âAl, heâsââ
Alfonsâs signature grin dropped immediately.Â
âHeâs not hurt,â she stammered in her rush to explain, the words almost choking in her throat. âHe just had a bad nightmare, and I canât⊠I donât know what to do. Please hurry.â
At that, Alfons swept across the hall with unusual urgency. His jacket billowed like ravenâs wings behind him and he paused only briefly at the top of the stairs, waiting for her to join him. She grabbed his hand, using it to steady her own aching heart, and together they ran back to the bedroom.Â
âAlâŠâ Elbertâs voice sounded beautifully broken as they both stepped into the room. The low light from the single lamp sheâd lit illuminated his skin, making the sweat beading on it glisten.Â
Alfonsâs hand slipped out of hers as he clicked his tongue, crossing the room. âTsk, tsk, my dear Elbie. You shouldâve seen the look on Kateâs face when she ran down to greet me. Absolutely terrified.â
âI⊠Iâm sorryâŠâ Elbertâs voice was softer than a whisper and his golden lashes fluttered shut, the tears clinging to them sparkling like diamonds.
âYou donât need to apologize,â Kate replied, sitting back down on their bed. She shifted as close to him as she could without touching him, letting him be the one to initiate contact when he wanted to.Â
âSheâs right, you know,â Alfons sighed. âBut if it makes you feel better, you can go shout your sorryâs from the rooftop.â
Elbert opened his eyes, the oceanic blue of them going wide. â...Does that help?â
âFor you, I very much doubt it.â A smile was back on Alfonsâs lips, but it was softer, more genuine than the one he usually had plastered on. He slipped out of his shoes, removing his coat and his tie, but when he made to shed the rest of his clothes, Elbert reached out and took hold of his wrist to stop him.
âDonât⊠Leave it on, please. IâŠâ
She knew why. And so would Alfons.Â
Elbert had mentioned before that the mix of cologne, booze, and god knew what else that clung to Alfons after his nights out were a comfort. Because when that profane scent was around, it meant Alfons was around. And when Alfons was with him, no one would come and make him suffer any further on those nightsâŠ
Alfons heaved out an exaggerated sigh, but he didnât protest. He peeled off his gloves and then pressed a knee into the mattress, boxing Elbert in between him and Kate.Â
The second he was within reach, Elbert turned into him, dropping his forehead against Alfonsâs chest. The rapid rhythm of Kateâs heart slowed and she sighed with relief, the tension dropping from her shoulders as Alfonsâs arms wound around Elbert to comfort him.Â
âYouâre such a fool. Since our robin has a far more ample bosom, I'd recommend burying yourself in her chest rather than mine.â
There, just like that. Alfons always seemed to be able to drive that pain away with his nonchalance and depravity that mightâve seemed like some ill-advised joke, yet always succeeded in turning thoughts from gloom to scandal or exasperated amusement. Early on, she mightâve scolded him. Yet now she smiled, seeing a hint of the same expression gently touch the corners of Elbertâs beautiful lips.Â
âBothâŠâ Elbert whispered, his long and elegant fingers clinging to the fabric of Alfonsâs vest. âI want bothâŠâ
âSo greedy. Whatever will we do with you.â Alfons tutted, faking a scolding, and his gaze caught Kateâs. âCome on, little robin, you heard him. He wants both.â
As if she could ever deny him. Either of them. She moved closer, closing the distance between them and gingerly touching Elbertâs back. At the same time, Alfonsâs fingers stroked over the nape of Elbertâs neck, light and soothing, like he was petting a kitten. However he didnât lean down to whisper, casting no illusions. It was merely a touch, with no magic, no curse behind it.Â
And as soon as Alfonsâs fingers pulled away, Elbert turned, slipping into Kateâs open arms instead. She craned her head down and pressed a kiss to the top of his head as Elbert nuzzled into her chest, his arms winding around her waist. She stroked her fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp and taking the role of whispering to him softly, reassuring he was safe there between them. No more bad dreams, no more nightmares. Not for forever, but for tonight. For the rest of tonight, he had them both there to protect him.Â
His grip gradually loosened, his beautiful lashes fluttering shut. And within a few minutes, his breathing was steady and calm, lulled into a far kinder sleep.Â
The last of the tension inside her melted away and she swallowed a sob of relief, glancing up. The expression on Alfonsâs face was so gentle and sweet, it made her heart acheâbut this time, with utter joy.
âThank youâŠâ she whispered, threading her fingers through Elbertâs golden hair once again. âI feel like Iâd be so lost without youâŠâ
After a long, silent moment, Alfons closed his eyes, as if afraid to meet her gaze. When he spoke, it was with an unusual strain to his voice. âFor so many years, on nights like this, I tried to offer him comfort, tried to give him an escape. At times, on those days when I hadnât been able to help him evade those vile servants⊠I offered him illusions, but he always broke out of them so quicklyâŠâ
Alfons opened his eyes, looking into hers briefly, before dropping his gaze to their peacefully sleeping Elbert. He reached out, picking up a lock of Elbertâs silken hair, and twisted it between his fingers. âHe very rarely accepted my help, preferring to suffer like he believed he deserved. And he never sought out comfort or asked me on his own. The fact that he does so nowâŠâ
Alfons leaned down, pressing one kiss to Elbertâs golden hair and another to the back of Kateâs hand. âYou may feel lost at times like these, but youâre the one who saved us both. Never forget that, my dear.â
A heat painted her cheeks and melted all the way down to her heart. âI couldnât have done it without you, Al.â
âOf course not.â Like a shadow passing over a mirror, a haughty grin danced its way back across Alfonsâs lips. âAll three of us are hopeless fools. We need each other, or weâll completely fall apart. Isnât that disgustingly tragic?â
Kate laughed, then bit her lip to stifle it, not wanting to rouse Elbert. âI love you both.â
âYes, yes, Iâm aware. Be sure to tell him in the morning when he wakes up. Iâm sure heâll be eager to thank us by ravishing us both.â With a large and very much put-on yawn, Alfons nestled into the bed and draped an arm around Elbertâs waist. He shut his eyes, muttering out a casual good night.
With a smile, Kate tugged the blankets over all three of them and laid down as well. She cradled Elbertâs head against her chest and found Alfonsâs hand under the sheets, lacing their fingers together. As she drifted off to sleep only minutes later, she swore she felt his thumb gently stroking over the back of her hand.Â
This scene was the furthest thing from what she couldâve imagined happening when she was first brought to Crown Castle. But now⊠she wouldnât wish for it to be any other way.Â
#ikevil#ikemen villains#ikevil fanfic#ikevil fanfiction#alfons sylvatica#ikevil alfons#ikevil elbert#ikevil kate#elbert greetia#I need an Elbie/Kate/Alfons route in canon so bad
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Teach Me
A Jayvik fic - part two
Word-count: 2256
Summary: Jayce teaches Viktor how to dance. Things get a little heated.
Warnings: This is pretty tame. A little nsfw dialogue at the end that alludes to part three.
Notes: I really love this. This is technically part two but you can read it on its own. You can find and read part one on my page. I didnât put near the same amount of effort into part one, so I might even go back and update it sometime soon. Iâll create a list where you can find them all together too. Itâs currently 5am, havenât slept and I wonât be able to sleep if I donât post this now, so I apologize if thereâs mistakes lol. Iâll edit them when I wake up again. đ«¶đŒ you guys.
âOh, but there is no music,â Viktor musters with pause, like a last-minute thought. Like he didnât fully think through asking Jayce to teach him how to dance. Here, alone, in his room for the night. Viktor stands towards the end of the large king-sized bed, navy-colored sheets with gold stitching. His cane is tucked into his side, eyes on Jayce, whoâs still standing in front of the double doors leading to the balcony.
Jayce is luminated from behind. The glow of the party lanterns below casting warm shadows into the night sky and their - Â Viktorâs room.
âWe shouldnât need any,â Jayce promises as he steps further in. Heâs still taking in the room, the colors and warm ambient lighting, when he focuses back on Viktor. For a split second, he stands there looking unsure, doubtful or perhaps even regretful for asking Jayce.
Something akin to dedication and reverence rakes its way across Jayceâs bones. Deep in his marrow. He wants to erase any trace of unease from Viktorâs body and mind.
Taking a few long strides, Jayce moves to a small coffee table in the room. Sly smirk painted across his lips, hands already deep within his pockets, searching, he says, âYou get the steps right, I give you more of these.â
Confusion clouds Viktorâs face. Eyebrow quirked, nose slightly scrunched, until he looks down. Jayce litters the tabletop with sweets. The same candy he stole earlier. Viktorâs favorite. A laugh is shoved from Viktorâs chest as handfuls are dropped. He watches in awe, in surprise. Jayce canât tell which, though he decides right then and there that heâll do anything to keep that look of wonder and mischief on Vikâs face.
âJayce.â
Viktor laces his name with muted laughter and accusation, really failing to look upset in the slightest.Â
âDon't. Donât give me that. Youâre lucky I didnât grab the crystal dish they were sitting in. Wouldâve been easier to carry all night. Been weighing down my pockets,â Jayce rambles.
Set ablaze from the joy on Viktorâs face, heâs moving faster again, not overthinking every move. He gets excited. Jayce knows this. His words and actions speed up, excitement bubbling in his chest. Enhanced by Viktor.
He's still going, Jayce. Still talking, still moving, until a slight breeze pours cool air down his back. Itâs then Jayce pauses. His suit jacket is already halfway down his arms, resting in the crooks of his elbows. He wasnât thinking. Why would he take off his jacket just to dance? Is it weird? Does Viktor think so?
No.
Jayce watches as Viktor stands there rolling up his own sleeves so causally. He doesnât stop, still folding the fabric. He only looks up at Jayce when heâs been quite for a little too long. And Viktor just smiles. Easy and cool. Like a lazy creek. It soothes Jayce, like the most expensive balm one could buy.
âAlright,â Jayce explains as he shucks off his jacket the rest of the way, âthe Waltz. Itâs a simple box step.â
He closes the distance between them. His nerves are only settled for so long, until he comes to stand in front of Viktor. Until he realizes, they both canât lead.
A smug smile tugs at the corner of Viktorâs mouth. He doesnât wait for Jayce to voice what he can clearly read written on his face. Confident as always, he grabs Jayceâs hands. Hosting their right and left into the air, clasped together, and guiding Jayceâs right to his back. Viktor whispers, âYou lead. I will follow.â
That stirs something within Jayce. Deep in his gut. A pit buried and nestled behind his belly button, and Viktorâs dipping his fucking fingers in.
He feels the back brace beneath Viktorâs black shirt, firm under his open palm. Jayce wants more. To feel more. He looks good in black. Fuck.
The feeling of Viktorâs hand coming to a rest on his shoulder shakes Jayce from his thoughts.
âWeâre essentially mirroring one anotherâs steps, in the shape of a box. Each step is a corner,â Jayce describes. His hands are still on Viktor when he realizes he probably shouldâve shown him the steps first, with more space between them. He steps away to demonstrate.
They walk through it slowly. One step at a time. Apart and then together again. Jayce gets lost. It might look like heâs letting Viktor work through the stumbling steps on his own, but no, heâs just lost. In Viktor.
Jayce in time relaxes. His right hand splays broader on Viktorâs back, covering so much space. His thumb trailing the line of his spine through the brace. He wants to feel skin. Their palms are slick with sweat, Viktorâs fingers tightening against his hand and shoulder with each misstep.
âViktor,â Jayce speaks, âeyes on me.â
Instantly Viktor is there, grip still tight and honey amber eyes fixed on his face with determination. A bit of annoyance. Jayce smiles softly. He finds it endearing. Viktorâs intent to learn. Though now Viktor doesnât respond, doesnât return to the steps either.
A beat of silence. Then â
âHow do you suppose I learn if I am not looking?â Viktor sputters, frustration etched into his features like Jayce asked him for something impossible. It only fuels Jayceâs adoration. Laughing, he pulls away gently, fingertips lingering, and walks over to the small table.
âYouâve done exceptional,â Jayce says as he swipes two pieces of chocolate. He walks back over to Viktor, unwrapping the fudge himself and holding the foil flat for Viktor to pick off of. Even more melted than before, fudge and peanut butter coat the foil, smudging their skin.
âThe only exceptional thing Iâve achieved is not breaking any of your toes,â Viktor muses. Joking, but still frustrated. Viktor finishes eating, slipping his thumb into his mouth, ridding it of any left-over fudge.
Jayce finishes his own, tucking the trash into his pocket to deal with later. Busying himself, Jayce stares at Viktorâs feet, partly thinking and partly looking anywhere else that is not Viktorâs mouth. He replays the steps in his mind, imagines Viktorâs brace. Even though he canât see it now he remembers its design, the mechanics.
While he didnât lie to Viktor at all, he can understand the hiccups due to the brace. The small steps forward arenât so much the issue as the side steps and going backwards. Viktorâs leg brace was built for stability. Rigid and sturdy, not for flowing movements. Counterbalancing his weight without his cane is also new.
âTake off your shoes,â Jayce declares. It stops Viktor mid sentence, going on again about Ms. Ellis and when sheâll notice the missing bowl of sweets. He stands there frozen and perplexed. Jayce doesnât give him a chance to question.
He kicks off his own, and then drops to his knees. Jayce slips the ties of Viktorâs dress shoes loose easily, letting him hold onto his shoulder as his heels slide out.
Perhaps the chocolate has gone to Jayceâs head.
âNow what?â Viktor ask once their both standing again, facing each other, amusement and sarcasm replacing his confusion. Theyâre both in their socks. Feet sinking into the plush carpet, Jayce takes a step forward, and another.
âWanted to try something. Youâre gonna have to be closer this time though,â Jayce explains. He crowds into Viktorâs space. His right hand reaching forward with confidence, with the excuse that itâs for the dance. Viktor doesnât hesitate, slipping back into the familiar stance. Until -
âNow, place your feet onto mine,â Jayce explains.
Now Viktor hesitates.
Looking up from the floor, amber eyes on hazel, Viktor says nothing. He just looks at Jayce intently. A moment passes, thick with tension. And in another moment, Viktor drops their clasped hands, grabbing Jayceâs other shoulder.
It shouldnât be as intimate as it feels. The soft arch of his feet. A shutter shouldnât rack its way down Jayceâs body as Viktorâs sock covered feet slide onto his.
Itâs closer than Jayce thought. Both of Viktorâs hands now rest higher up Jayceâs shoulders. Instinctively, his left found Viktorâs waist, holding him steady as he found his balance and a comfortable position. Just as he settles, looking back to Jayce directly, soft music drifts in from the balcony. The party outside.
Jayce nearly forgot. The sea of people outside, mingling and some dancing themselves. Though Jayce would never trade spots with any of them. Money, power, spotlight. Heâs content here. Alone with Viktor, in the sanctity of this room. A new song begins downstairs. Jayceâs cue to start moving.
He moves with a little more effort, the weight of Viktor comforting more than anything though. Gliding across the carpet Jayce starts with a formal Waltz. Poised and perfect. Long strides. He even adds in the turns. He wants Viktor to feel it, the grace of a Waltz youâd perform in front of the eyes of those downstairs.
But here, with Viktor, he shortens his steps soon. Because that is not them. He doesnât feel the pressure to be perfect in Viktorâs arms. Theyâre more than fancy parties and the âright wayâ to dance. He wants Viktor to know he can have it all, that Jayce will show him everything, but that most of all, any way is perfect as long as itâs them. Together.
Before long, theyâre simply turning softly, swaying. Moves Viktor could easily do and yet his feet never leave Jayceâs.
âThank you,â Viktor breathes. The words are spoken lowly enough between them that Jayce barely registers it. Lost again. Jayce hums in response. He canât do words at the moment.
Viktorâs body has drifted even closer. Jayce thinks if he takes a deep enough breath, their chests might brush together. But right now, itâs Viktorâs hands. Venturing from his shoulders to the nape of his neck, Viktorâs fingers graze against the longer strands of Jayceâs grown out hair. It sends goosebumps erupting, racing across his skin.
âWhat may I do for you in return? For all of this, tonight?â Viktor ask, his voice different now. Still sweet, still rich, but lower. Jayce understands right then that Viktor reminds him of syrup. His voice specifically. Aged and pure. Sticky sweet and slow. Thick and consuming.
Jayce smiles, responds, âThe fudge, remember?â
âNo,â Viktor muses, âsomething else.â
âTeach me something.â
Jayce canât even regret it, once itâs past his lips and out of his mouth. Words thrown out like a curveball in slow motion. He meant it sincerely. Jayce taught him something, why not offer the same in return?
It came out heavy though. Flirty. Loaded with innuendo due to the slight draw of Jayceâs voice now.
âLike what?â Viktor inquires. Itâs this moment Viktorâs fingers, warm and soft, fully slide into Jayceâs hair at the base of his skull. Jayce bites his tongue, and everything he wants to say back.
How to touch you. How to kiss you. How to ask for that from you. Fuck.
Jayce says nothing. He knows though. Viktor knows. Has always been able to read Jayceâs thoughts. Can read it all over his face too, and in the steel look in his eyes.
There is only a beat, soft, before Viktorâs grip tightens in his hair, ripping a gasp from Jayce.
Before he can breathe in again, Viktorâs mouth finds his. Warm. Soft. Their chest fully pressed together now. Jayceâs lungs burn for a full breath, but he doesnât relent. Neither of them do. He only needs Viktor. To breathe him in.
His arms wrap fully around Viktorâs waist, pulling him in tighter, hands roaming his back now. Their tongues meet and that pit in Jayceâs belly turns molten. A sound Jayce doesnât want to admit to escapes as Viktor brings a hand around to his face, nails scrapping through his bread. They break apart.
âJayce,â Viktor rasp.
Jayce doesnât give him a chance. Driven by need and Viktorâs wrecked tone. Knowing he made him sound like that, he dives back in, erasing the smile from Viktorâs face. Jayce licks behind his teeth, tasting champagne and chocolate, and just - Viktor.
Viktorâs nails scratch his jaw again, venturing lower. His other hand still drags through Jayceâs hair. Things become slower. Hands still roaming, squeezing, pulling. They stand still though. No longer swaying, Jayceâs feet are going numb and tingly beneath them, and he couldnât care less.
Languid strokes of their tongues draw out more and more sounds. Jayce is distracted. Drowning and loving it. Drinking Viktor in by the lungful. Itâs why he doesnât see it coming.
Another tight grip in his hair, accompanied this time by Viktorâs other hand wrapped around his throat too, squeezing as Viktor sinks his teeth into Jayceâs bottom lip.
âI â unnf.â
Jayce groans, best he can with the way Viktor has his neck cranked back, fingers tightening around his throat.
âTell me, Jayce. Tell me what you want to learn,â Viktor all but purrs.
He leans in, not going back to fully kissing him but licking across and into Jayceâs open mouth. Like he canât stop himself either. Like Viktor, too, is fueled by desire, too hungry to wait for a response.
Jayce is weak. Weak when it comes to Viktor. Viktorâs wet mouth and hard touch. He sticks his own tongue out, meeting anywhere Viktor will allow him a taste. He only answers when Viktor pulls back once again.
He pants like a dog. Whines, only a little.
âTeach me how to suck cock.â
#jayvik#vikjayce#arcane#fanfic#jayce x viktor#viktor arcane#jayce talis#jayce and viktor#fanfiction#arcane fanfic
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