#he's reliable and lovely to work with but he's not a celebrity right?

[enakane]

So apparently my previous boss is famous in southeast asia but he won't tell anyone why

[murmeloni]

I need more fanboy Clark Kent in my life.

Like, he's seen Bruce Wayne interact with a child once and immediately fell in love with the guy. Now his bedroom walls are plastered with posters and he follows several social media accounts focused on capturing pictures of Bruce with kids and/or animals etc. He defends Bruce to anyone, no matter the antics he gets up to and it has become a bit of a running gag around the office.

Then, one day, Cat is out sick and someone jokingly suggests Clark should cover the gala in her stead, seeing as Bruce Wayne will be there and maybe this'll be Clark's shot to finally get his man? To everyone's surprise, Perry really does assign the gala coverage to Clark, who spends the days leading up to the event in a state somewhere between absolute panic and ultimate bliss.

But when the day finally arrives, Bruce doesn't show.

Of course Clark does his job and interviews everyone there (yes, even Lex Luthor) but a part of him spends all night waiting for Bruce to crash the party late, like he so often does.

Eventually, Clark gives up hope and it's shortly after that, that he stumbles upon one of the children dragged along to the event by their parents. Because apparently someone thought a charity gala was a good environment for an eight year old. The parents are nowhere in sight and the child is close to tears, so Clark makes it his mission to cheer the little girl up, regaling her with stories from his upbringing on a Kansas farm while he searches the crowd for her family.

With Clark thus occupied, he doesn't notice Bruce Wayne finally making his appearance for the night. But Bruce definitely notices him. The gentle giant who's all kind smiles and corny jokes... Until he finds the girl's parents. Uncaring of the fact that he's here on a job and that these people are richer than any one person should be and could easily sue him into oblivion, he takes them aside, fire in his eyes, and tears them a new one for losing track of their kid like this. Anything could have happened to her and maybe the readers of the Daily Planet would like to know about that? After all, how reliable and trustworthy could a company whose CEOs won't even look after their own daughter really be?

Bruce is immediately smitten. The passive-aggressive lecture and subtle threats - not to mention the broad shoulders and handsome face - are incredibly attractive to him and he wastes no time cornering the man afterwards.

Clark, who is so starstruck by the mere sight of Bruce coming towards him that he loses the ability to speak, nearly faints when Bruce just straight up shoves his tongue into his mouth. They end up in one of the coat rooms and Clark thinks that's it, just a one night stand. It sucks that he won't see Bruce again, but the night was amazing and at least he has the memory to treasure, right?

He thinks that right up until he gets to work the next day and two dozen red roses are waiting for him on his desk. There's a handwritten card nestled inbetween the petals and on it is the name of a restaurant along with a date and time. It's signed by Bruce.

And that is how Clark gets together with his celebrity crush.

[nanamiscocksleeve]

When The Snow Melts

Warnings: MDNI, soft sex, virginity loss, angst, and some spoilers for those who aren't familiar with Zayne's lore. A/n: Curiosity got the best of me. I wasn't playing LaDS when the Master of Fate card came out so I went to YouTube and immediately regretted it. Like can this man not catch a break? He sacrifices himself again? I couldn't leave it, so this me, correcting the wrong. A fix-it fic if you will. Because I need Zayne to win, at least once. Also, since Zayne appears according to how MC perceives him, I do believe he will have aged exactly as she has.

The night is bright, and the small cobbled lane you walk on is lit with lamps. The streets are bustling with life. The feeling of excitement, togetherness, and aromatic food graces the air as you wander closer to the town square. Another festival, similar, yet not similar, to the countless ones you’ve seen with your keen eyes. 

You’d wanted to be in company, maybe see the world when you were young, and the curse that was also a blessing was granted. Your body, now wispy and weathered from the years spent wandering cannot move as quickly as you used to, the ever-reminding aches in your joints, the beginning of arthritis weighing down in your bones. Yet you still had a zest for life. Because what else could you do but seek, and take in everything that life had to offer? How could you not? Because it was the grace of the god that allowed it and the terrible price that was paid for you to experience it.

It had been decades since you had last seen the god. You had traversed as far as you could, carrying your umbrella with the everlasting snow coating it like wool on a freshly birthed lamb. The things you had witnessed! Ships with sails as tall as oak trees, strangely flavored meats and delectable sweets, festivals where people had danced, music from instruments brought in from faraway strange lands. You had eaten, traveled, danced, and sung, picking up small jobs to afford simple pleasures. You were a quick learner. Once you were a seamstress helping a small garment shop, another time a jewel polisher. You had even worked as an errand maid for an elderly couple who were profuse with their thanks and offered you a roof over your head for a short while. But staying in one place wasn’t an option. You had to keep looking after all. How else would you find him again?

As your feet carried you into the square, a burst of light and color filled your vision. It’s so lively, as the people flock to the different food carts, admiring the small handicraft booths, and singing folk songs well known to all those who grew up in this region. Children joyfully chased each other, dressed warmly in bright clothes. A hint of winter was already in the air. Based on what you had observed, this festival was celebrating the end of the harvest season, probably one of the last for this year until the harsh snowfall of winter faded. The breeze, not quite chilly enough to make you shiver, felt comforting on your face. 

You supposed you could work as a midwife again. Midwifery was good work, reliable since winter did not stop the delivery of children into the world. It could also guarantee a place to stay if you played your cards right, though you hated staying in one place. The nomadic lifestyle you had adopted suited you. And the winters made you nostalgic. 

It made you long for those days before you had picked up this umbrella and set off to see the world. Of amber eyes flecked with green, like the jars of whiskey at the inns when the early morning sunlight brushes against them, bringing forth colors hidden in the dark glass. Or of soft hands, covered in scars, and whispers in your ear of sleep, of priestesses calling gods down to earth to make love to them. Sometimes the memories consume you to the point of anger.  How dare he leave you? With no explanation as to what his blessing was. 

You vaguely recall those days, back when your fingers weren’t gnarled and wrinkled, your face unblemished by the years in the sun. All spells have limitations, he had said. But he also said he had taken care to make the spell extra strong since you were particularly clumsy. The snow had to melt sometime…didn’t it?

A drum begins to pound in the distance, and the crowd gathers around the stage that had been set up at the far end of the square. You halt at one of the carts to buy some fried chicken skewers. The vendor looks curiously at your umbrella, something you have grown accustomed to over the years. After all, snow that doesn’t melt was bound to bring questions. You had woven a different story for each city you had passed through, sometimes recycling them when you didn’t have the creativity to spin a new one. Initially hesitant to reveal how the umbrella with the everlasting snow had come into your possession, you had tried to pass it off as a novelty accessory, crafting tales of snowy mountains and how it was all the rage in those areas.

As the years passed by, your tongue had loosened. Or perhaps the indignation of him disappearing had made you reckless. Although you still hadn’t said the full story, you’d managed to finally say it was a blessing from a god, shocking the non-believers by letting them touch the snow, their gasps of awe as the cold, wet, powder clung to their fingers falling satisfyingly on your ears. Tonight, however, you were in no mood to entertain strangers. You smile politely as you hand over your coins to the vendor, take the food, and walk away towards the stage. 

The sounds of a flute and an erhu accompany the drum. Elaborately dressed dancers are swirling in coordinated grace on the stage, enacting a scene from an old tale; the common man sending off the goddess of harvest, thanking her for her blessings that year, and praying to the god of winter, that he be merciful to them and allow them to live to see another spring.

You were skeptical if these rituals really worked. The first autumn after you had been gifted the umbrella when the air started to show signs of change, you had danced, danced amongst the trees that were close to shedding their vividly colored leaves of red, mustard, and yellow. You had prayed your heart out, prayed so hard, danced so long that the soles of your shoes had almost worn out. You had danced till you had collapsed with exhaustion, falling asleep on the leafy floor. You had been so sure that it would work, that he would show himself, and when you awoke, it was with a heartrending pang that you realized you were alone. It hadn’t worked. Wherever he was, the god of the snow wasn’t visible to your eyes. It was the first time you had allowed yourself to cry in all those months. Had he really believed this was the better choice? That to leave you behind without telling you what was going to happen to him would make you happier? That was the worst part; not knowing if he was alive, existing somewhere you couldn’t journey to, or if he had given all his power into making the snow that had fueled your existence, and lost himself with it. 

The music becomes faster and the dancers move until the stage is a blur of color. The audience claps as their movements become sharp, with an artistic precision that only years of practice could hone. The last note quavers from the flute and rises into the night air. Cheers and whistles erupt all around you. It was a beautiful performance no doubt, but despite finding it captivating, it also left you feeling hollow. Finishing the last of your fried chicken, you begin to wander amongst the townspeople, enquiring about work that could be had for the winter.

By the time the square had cleared up, and the last of the festival-goers had returned home, you had secured a job; a bakery was in desperate need of an extra set of hands. The pay wasn’t much but the woman had offered food and board and you had accepted graciously. As you sit on the stone steps of your latest lodgings, you gaze at the moon. 

You want to not blame him, to not feel this heavy weight that you’ve carried inside your chest. You know you should be grateful for his sacrifice which enabled you to see so much of the world, and at the least, you weren’t alone. The incident with the people in your village was a distant memory, replaced with so many more pleasant rememberings. Plucking apples from an orchard with trees growing as far as the eyes could see. The feeling of a newborn baby, screaming with the rage of life and the mother wiping tears of joy while offering you her thanks. The herbalist with his toothless smile as he showed you which plants were medicinal and which were poison as you plucked various flowers and leaves and dug the earth for rhizomes of turmeric and ginger. 

You were a well-traveled woman, knowledgeable in all aspects, a rare luxury during this time, you knew. Yet for each memory that stayed clearly in your mind, there was a sense of loss. Everything tied back to him, and you couldn’t bring yourself to forget him, even in your old age, and even with the passage of time. 

The spicy bun the baker had offered you was good. You savored its flavor on your tongue, naming the constellations visible in the sky as you did so, the short astronomy lesson from a young scholar in some past time proving useful. It must be close to midnight based on how still the night is, the whispering rustle of dead leaves as they skitter across the ground audible in the background. With a sigh, you carefully get to your feet, your joints creaking as you rise. As you reach for your umbrella, you pause, fingertips hovering over the handle.

Surely you were imagining it? It must be a trick of the moonlight. The last of the lamps were dying, the faint light casting shadows across the walls of the dwellings. Yet your aged eyes couldn’t shake off the feeling. You stare intently at the umbrella, more so, at the snow perched on its upper slope. A fine sheen of condensation coated the umbrella, surrounding the powdery snow. Had you somehow gotten the umbrella wet? You kneel, observing with fascination as some of the condensation gathers, becoming fat droplets of precipitation, and rolling off the sides.

You’re awestruck. In all your years, the snow had never melted. It had never lessened nor increased but always stayed the same. But now you can see how the powder was turning watery, steadily dripping down into the cold ground. You trace a fingertip on the trails of moisture along the sides of the umbrella, and that’s when you hear it; the unmistakable twang of a guqin. 

You had never encountered a guqin again, not since the night he had played one while you danced for him. The unmistakable notes now begin to form a melody. You look out into the empty street and see nothing. But the song was filling your body like the warmth of a fireplace. Your limbs involuntarily stretch out as your eyes close, remembering the movements you had learned so long ago and sworn to never repeat after the failed attempt to call down the god. Your legs feel unsteady, your hands clumsy, a far cry from the controlled accuracy of the stage dancers. Your joints begin to sear as you move, unable to stop the actions. Oh how sweetly the instrument sang to you!

There’s a sharp pain in your heart, not from the ache of moving your tired extremities, but from the grief bottled up, adding on year after year. There’s resentment, but underneath it all, there’s a strong yearning you’re unable to put into words. How do you describe it? The loss of the only person who seemed to understand you, who helped you control your power?

You knew he did something when he placed his spell because, since that day, you hadn’t been able to harness your powers ever again. He had ensured you could live your life as a normal human being. Before knowing him you would have done anything to not have the power. But the cost that came with it was too much to bear. You weren’t alone, yet you were alone. So of all the days, why was the guqin playing now?

Tears roll down your cheeks as you dance, letting loose your sorrow to the crisp night breeze. You feel like each nerve in your body is frayed, all consumed with the bits of memories you had of him. It takes you a moment to realize you’re not dancing anymore. The guqin has stopped playing. You’re standing in a pose, your head lowered, facing the steps you had been sitting on, and the umbrella leaning against them. Shock passes through you. 

The umbrella was completely devoid of snow. The only evidence it was there was the puddle of water that had gathered beneath it, muddying the grass. 

“Why are you so surprised?”

Your heart skips a beat, then begins to hammer in your chest like a frantic bird trapped in a cage. The deep baritone voice tinged with a hint of sarcasm calls out to you gently. You can’t seem to be able to move. 

“It can’t be.” You murmur, gripping your elbows, trying to calm yourself. “It can’t be. I’m dreaming.”

“What are dreams if not another reality?”

It takes all the effort in your body to not collapse to the ground as a sobbing mess. You turn slowly, as though giving the voice a chance to admit it was a figment of your imagination but it doesn’t happen. Your breath catches in your throat as you see him, at last.

His dark hair has tinges of gray in it, and crow’s feet are visible near the corners of his eyes, but the gentle upwards curve of his lips, the broad shoulders, and his pointed chin are all recognizably familiar. 

“Zayne?” You let his name fall from your lips, sounding like a strange word, lost to your vocabulary from the years of disuse. 

He nods, then stretches out a hand to you. At first, you’re at a loss about what you should do, then, with as much speed as your wizened knees allow, you run to him. He’s solid and grounding, his arms wrapping around you tightly. A brief lick of rage crosses through you, but when you open your mouth to let loose your diatribe, all that comes out is a sob. Your tears flow freely, staining his robes, and you feel his gloved hands gently combing through your hair.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmurs, his chin resting on top of your head.

“Why not tell me?” Your words are choked, your body shivering as you cry. 

Zayne leads you to the steps and helps you sit before occupying the space next to you. He leans you against him, your head resting comfortably on his shoulder as he takes one of your hands between both of his. He sighs deeply and his voice, though calm, is filled with regret as he speaks. 

“How could I tell you? What would I have said? How do you tell someone special to you that their life was in danger?”

You blink back tears. “Danger?”

“There was a powerful entity after you. I did what I needed to do to protect you.”

“Why was it after me?”

Zayne pauses, as though considering how to word his response. “It was convinced you would bring about a cataclysm, and the only way to prevent it was to take your life.”

“But… I don’t understand. How did your spell prevent this? Now that it’s worn off, won’t it come after me again?”

“No.” Zayne wraps his arms around you, his body bringing warmth into yours. “Even cataclysms go away if given enough time. But the harder part was figuring out how to suppress your abilities until that time passed.” He sighs deeply, gathering you close. “The spell on the umbrella was the only solution I could think of, without restricting your freedom. Regrettably, sealing your power meant taking away your ability to perceive me. I never intended to make it permanent.”

“Why not tell me?” You repeat the question. Zayne raises an eyebrow.

“If I had told you the spell would wear off, would you have left the mountain?” He brushes your cheek with his thumb as he takes in your face, his eyes softening as he looks at you. “I know you. You would have spent all these years in isolation, waiting for me. I didn’t want you to miss the opportunity to live. A normal life seemed like the best option I could give you until enough time had passed.”

You’re silent as you let his words sink into you. After a gap, you whisper, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” His thumb caresses each of your fingertips in turn. “But know that I watched over you every day. I saw the world through your eyes and felt your sense of wonderment in my heart. The day you danced so hard for me that you almost fainted from exhaustion-” Zayne draws in a breath and his voice quivers as he continues. “I was in tears. I wanted nothing more than to reach out and comfort you. I was there, separated by a veil, but I felt your pain.”

“That was the year the frost came early.” You recall the memory. 

“Indeed. I couldn’t control my grief. I didn’t know how else to let you know I was there, except to cover the world with snow.”

You glance over at the umbrella. “Will you disappear again?”

“Not unless you want me to.” One of his large hands rests on your knee. “I understand I’ve angered you by acting without telling you everything. Is it enough that you don’t want me around?”

You shake your head no. Your momentary anger with him had faded, like the night giving way to the sunrise. “There’s nothing that could keep me from wanting you. I made many acquaintances throughout my life, but the one person’s companionship I yearned for was yours.”

“My beloved snowflake.” Zayne embraces you tenderly. “It was fate that led you to me on the mountain that day. And It was fate that finally broke the spell. We’re all bound by it, even me.”

“Are you?”

“Yes. Otherwise, do you think I would have kept you sealed for so long? Even gods must play by fate’s rules.”

Silence falls between you both,  the breeze ruffling your clothes. You become acutely aware that he’s gazing at you, and when you turn to look at him, there’s such tenderness in his eyes that it makes you blush, even at this age. 

“You’re beautiful,” he utters, tucking strands of stray hair behind your ears. The amber in his eyes glows as you stare back, captivated by how handsome he is. Your memory didn’t do him justice. You cup his cheek. 

“Is this our happily ever after?”

“It can be if we choose it to be.”

“I do. Wholeheartedly.”

Sparks fly between you and almost as if the both of you are following a rhythm, your lips find each other in the darkness. It’s odd because, in the passing years, you hadn’t imagined what his lips would feel like against yours. You had fantasized about lying next to him, listening to his heartbeat, about taking long, leisurely strolls while holding hands, and about the possibility of letting him rest on your lap while you played with his thick locks of hair.

Now you’re glad you hadn’t tried to imagine it because the reality was sweeter than any dream you could have conjured, the warmth and softness of his mouth, the taste of his tongue as it slips past your lips, the possessiveness in his grip as he molds your body against his, as though silently claiming you. There wasn’t an inch of you that didn’t ache for him. When he pulls away, there’s desire flickering in the depths of his eyes.

Wordlessly, you take his hands and get to your feet, quietly pulling him inside your new quarters. You’re careful to not wake the baker; it was quite improper to invite a man into your room, but you didn’t care. You lock the door and allow Zayne to sweep you away.

Clothes slide to the floor, a whisper lost to the dark. There’s no shame as you reach for each other, hands relishing the feeling of skin, enjoying the contact between your bodies as he gently pulls you onto the bed. His lips leave trailing kisses on your skin, no longer supple like the young woman you once were, but worthy of being worshipped irrespective. You wonder if this moment would have felt different if you had consummated this relationship when you were younger but realized you had little choice in it. If the Master of Fate couldn’t control when things happened, then what good was it to think about what could have been?

Instead, you focus on him, on his skin flushed with vitality as you nibble his ear, shyly running your tongue down his neck. He suckles at your nipple, and pleasure, unlike anything you’ve ever experienced radiates into every part of your being. You feel his erection graze your belly as he patiently kisses you, moaning into his mouth as his fingers stroke your sex, finding the little knot of nerves that makes you close your eyes in ecstasy.

It’s all slow and unhurried, and when you finally gasp out your climax, he eases his body into yours. There’s pain, but only for the briefest moment, then as your body stretches around him, you feel a powerful sense of intimacy as he thrusts, his movements passionate and loving. He gathers you tightly against him whispering the same thing over and over as he empties himself. 

“I love you. I love you I love you I love you.”

A weak ray of sunlight peeks through the window when you wake up, and you panic for a moment when you see the bed is empty. 

“I’m here my love.” Zayne’s voice immediately reassures you and you see him stoking the fireplace. The small flames crackle merrily as he makes his way back to bed, pulling you against him and stroking your skin. It had snowed overnight, and the landscape was now unrecognizable, covered in a fresh coat of it. 

“It appears grief isn’t the only thing that can cause the god of winter to make it snow,” you tease and Zayne good-naturedly smirks at you. 

“Indeed. All thanks to you.” 

You giggle, a soft sound that fills him with joy. 

“I suppose we’re stuck in this village until winter ends. Makes no sense to wander for now.”

“Agreed. I suppose I can set up shop as a fortune-teller, or maybe as a herbalist.”

“We’ll decide what to do when spring comes.” You settle against his chest, finding comfort in the scent of his skin. 

“The snow has to melt sometime. But we’ll survive. Together.”

“Together.” You agree, and lay your lips over his. 

© nanamiscocksleeve original work | no copying, plagiarizing or translating support banner by @/ cafekitsune

@theimmortalbuns @otomegamesforlife @sweets-kozume @supernaturalbaesduh @ladyparamount

[reiderwriter]

Please Accept My Apology

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: After three days spent trying to convince the BAU that they had made a mistake, Spencer Reid shows up at your door to offer his apology.

Warnings: enemies to lovers, smut 18+ minors dni, slight age gap, penetrative sex, squirting, fingering, dirty talk, name calling, degradation, hints of bdsm, implied creampie etc.

You can find my masterlist here and my 2024 song fic challenge here (don't forget to send song recommendations to my inbox!)

You never thought you'd ever see the inside of an interrogation room before this week. Now you didn't think you'd ever see the outside of it.

“Y/N, you're brother ran from law enforcement multiple times, if you know where he is you need to tell us or you'll be charged with accessory to murder and kidnapping after the fact. Is that what you want?”

“Of course it isn't what I want, but I already told you I can't fucking help you!”

You paced in the boxed room, feeling closed in and hot.

Your brother - your innocent brother - was the key suspect in a series of child abductions and murders, and as he'd ran from law enforcement multiple times, they'd dragged you into the police precinct to try to track him down.

For the last three days, you'd been stuck sitting at that table across from Doctor Spencer Reid, waiting for the worst news of your life, because you knew it was coming.

“He's not a murderer. He's mentally ill, but he wouldn't hurt anyone. I keep telling you that, why won't you believe me?”

“A lot of loved ones protest a suspect's innocence, right down to the last second.” You couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up from the depth of your chest.

“My brother is schizophrenic. He was violent before, sure, he had outbursts. But he has been monitoring his meds for the last three years perfectly. He has a job, he has a son. He would not hurt those kids.”

You had always looked up to your elder brother, even through the tough years.

He'd inherited both your fathers drinking problem and your mother's mental illness, each demon feeding the other until he had a breakdown at age 19.

You were only 17 yourself, but with no one else to hold him accountable, you'd been there. You'd checked him into a facility, you drove him to each of his doctor's appointments when he was clean. You'd been around for each sober anniversary, for each birthday and holiday and celebration that he'd made it one more year without falling into himself.

He'd reciprocated by being the most reliable man you knew. He helped put you through college when he was stable enough, he'd managed to work his way up in the ranks at his construction job. He had a beautiful wife (currently in another interrogation room with another agent) and the cutest little boy.

He'd promised you that your family struggles would end with the two of you. You'd promised each other to take care of each others families if anything happened to them in the future, and while you currently had no family to speak of, you sure as hell were going to make sure that your nephew never wanted for anything in his life.

Your brother wasn't a murderer, and you had proof enough.

“You know, you haven't asked me yet why I think he's innocent.” You took your seat again, and gathered your hands together on the table, leaning in closer to the agent in front of you.

You watched him think for a second, then mirror your pose, leaning in just as close, eyes locked with yours.

You'd talked about a lot of things these past three days, and you got the idea that he was a bit of a jackass. If not a jackass, then at least big-headed; he'd practically shouted his title of Doctor at you as he'd walked in, and made sure to correct you every time you'd called him agent or sir.

You kept doing it just to piss him off eventually.

“It's denial, Miss Y/L/N. You don't want to see the signs you'd ignored for that lingered, so you beg and protest and plead, hoping that eventually you'll turn out to be correct.” His voice was low, but you caught every word.

“While I am sure you know what you're talking about Agent Reid, that is not why I'm here still. I'm not being charged with a crime, and I've been here much longer than 24 hours. I'm free to go at any point, but I'm sticking around here, lawyer free, because I want to watch your face when you realise you'd been wrong this entire time.”

He shifted uncomfortably and you smiled, happy to get under his skin once again.

“Okay, Miss Y/L/N. What makes you so sure your brother is innocent?”

“Your profile.” His eyes slightly widened at that, and you basked in it, leaning back and waiting for him to take the bait as the tide turned in your conversation.

“We profiled that our unsub would be late 20s to early 30s, probably a family man who'd likely been abused as a child. The profile also suggested he may have had a psychotic break recently, likely as a result of coming off his meds. Your brother fits the profile, Y/N.”

He'd dug his own grave, and you were happy to see him getting ready to sleep in it too.

“No, he doesn't, Agent.”

A tense silence passed between you, and you knew his gaze was fixed on you. You let your eyes dart elsewhere, rolling down his body to his hands. They were totally still of course, but you could see how tense he was by the way he pushed them flat against the table, almost as if he were trying to ground himself, finding reassurance in the pressure.

“How does he not fit the profile?” His brows were knitted together, and his expression was one of annoyance now.

No matter how much you had shouted or let out your frustrations these past few days, he'd kept a placid look of sympathy plastered across his features. He hadn't listened, or even suggested he'd wanted to, assuming your brother was guilty.

Now he was annoyed, as if he had the right.

“Despite what your records supposedly tell you, my brother is not off his meds.”

“Miss Y/L/N, we know that your brother did not refill his prescription three months ago, and that he looked into some clinical trials in the metropolitan area and was rejected.”

“Congratulations for having 50% of the facts. My brother wasn't rejected from those trials, he withdrew because they changed the terms. They wanted to study my nephew as well to see if they could predict where hereditary cases of Schizophrenia would manifest.”

You leaned in again now, enjoying watching the thoughts rush through Spencer Reid's head once again.

“His health insurance had some issues after the withdrawal, so his prescription couldn't be filled until next week, but my brother always had six months of pills delivered.”

You watched the realisation come crashing down on the agent in front of you, though he was doing a good job of keeping himself out together.

It was time to end this conversation.

“To take part in the clinical trial, he needed to stop taking his regular medication for two weeks. Meaning he has two more weeks of his regular medication. I watched him take it Monday morning, right about when your second kidnapping occurred. My sister-in-law will confirm.”

He stood from his chair slowly and nodded at you, making his way to the door.

“And Agent Reid?” You said making sure to hold his attention one last time before he could leave. “If anything happens to my brother, I will hold you responsible.”

He slipped from the room without another word, and you relaxed into the chair, letting your eyes fall shut as you waited patiently.

Xxx

It was another week before your brother was totally cleared. He'd turned himself into law enforcement the same day you'd forced the BAU to reevaluate their profile, and both he and his wife had cracked up your story.

With nothing else to distract them, you'd been happily informed that they'd caught the actual perpetrator, and saved another victim.

You were back at home now, trying to relax, to get back on track.

You knew by the knock on the door that you weren't going to get back to your normal routine just yet.

“Agent Reid, I wasn't expecting you.” He was there at your door, and you had to brush off a wave of annoyance, forcing yourself not to slam the thing in his goddamn face.

“It's Doctor Reid. You know that, though.” He mumbled the words, jaw tense as he heaved out a sigh, trying to get to his point but being distracted by your prickly words.

“I came to talk. May I come inside?”

“We talked for three days straight, Doc. What else could we possibly need to discuss?” You made sure to block the door with your body, one arm resting on the doorframe as you leant across it, the other holding the door tightly next to you.

You thought he'd get the idea, tuck his tail between his legs, and swiftly leave you alone, but you were sadly mistaken.

Instead his eyes raked over your body as you put it on display, curiously exploring every inch you put in his eyeline.

“May I come in?” He repeated, eyes still trailing down your body. If it weren't for the heat building inside of you, you'd have slammed the door in his face. A moment's hesitation was all you got instead, as he locked eyes with you again, and you reluctantly moved an inch to the side.

You stayed there in the doorway even as he entered, his body brushing against yours almost intimately for the second, his hand faintly tracing over your hip as he stepped inside, watching you all the time.

Needing desperately to gain your composure back, you jumped into asking questions. “You're in now. What do you want?”

“I wanted to apologise.” He hadn't moved far into the apartment, and you realised aa soon as you turned away from locking the door, overestimating his distance. You spun right into his arms, one of his palms coming to your waist to steady you as the other steadied the two of you against the wall.

“And whatever would the wonderful Doctor Reid need to apologise for?”

Your words were venomous, but the heat in them rose from somewhere deeper than the acid in your stomach, somewhere more fiery than the burning sensation at the back of your throat.

“I'm trying to do the right thing here, Y/N.”

“After a week of doing the wrong thing, Spencer, I'm not sure you're fully capable of that.”

His brows furrowed as he pouted, and you hated his proximity, both too close and too far at the same time. You wanted to run him apart, and then delicately sew him back together.

“I was doing my job.”

“You almost got my brother killed.”

“I'm sorry.” He heaved out an exasperated breath with the words, body relaxing and pushing your back fully against the wall. His eyes widened, and you could tell that he hadn't meant to move you in that way, but you just stared at him still, eyes flicking down to his lips with every intrusive thought.

This was how close you needed him.

“I don't give a shit if you're sorry.” You meant the words to be harsh a warning, but you hadn't realised your heartbeat bursting from your throat, your breathy gasps for air making it sound more erotic than angry.

He blinked once, then twice, slowly as if he was a scientist observing an experiment, not wanting to take his eyes off of it until he was certain something wouldn't happen.

“You're enjoying this.”

“I'm not.”

“Your heart rate is at 127 bpm, your pupils are dilated, your breathing is shallow. You're enjoying this. Why?”

His hands didn't let up, even as he shot out his words, brows furrowing further as you resisted the urge to push him away.

It was more comfortable keeping him close.

“I told you I am not enjoying this. You're just too close.”

“So, you're having a physical reaction to me?” He asked, almost quizzically. You had expected to hear a triumphant smirk or something in his voice, but he seemed genuinely curious.

“For God's sake, Spencer, yes. Yes, you're close and it's making me uncomfortable. You spent three days making me feel uncomfortable, and now you've come back for round two, are you happy now?”

“You're not uncomfortable,” he shot out again, almost as if he couldn't stop the words from spilling out. “You're aroused.”

“Know it all.” He laughed at that, and you could feel the heat in your cheeks. You weren't sure what the hell was going on with your body, because you'd spent the week despising the man in front of you, but now a simple hand on your wrist and a laugh had you blushing like a schoolgirl.

“So what if I am aroused? You're touching me, you have me pinned against the wall, really this is your fault, Agent.”

“It's Doctor, but you can call me Spencer. Or you can go back to another colourful insult if you'd prefer?”

“You're pretty full of yourself, I thought you came to apologise.”

“I did, it's not exactly me that is acting like they want to be filled right now though.”

“Jackass,” you snapped, as he lowered his hand around to cup your ass, finally allowing himself a tiny hint at the smirk you'd predicted earlier.

You gasped as he took a handful of your ass and pulled you flush against him.

“I want to say sorry, I want to make it up to you. I'm being quite charitable here.”

“Charity, my dear Doctor, is where you give something and expect nothing in return. It seems like you want something in return.” You spat the words again but you let your hands press lightly against his chest, waiting for him to make the next move as you played with the buttons of his shirt.

“I'd be more than happy to do that, too.”

You weren't sure who reached for who, or which one of you made the first push, but you were suddenly joined together by your lips, each of you battling furiously for dominance.

Your hands pushed up desperately, clawing into his long, busy strands and pulling him down further into you as you worked against him.

He was still stronger than you though, so when he forced your head back an inch, you moved out of necessity.

���Is that enough, or should I keep apologising?”

“Nowhere near enough, jacka-” he cut you off by pushing the tip of his thumb into your mouth, using one of his legs to spread yours so he could nuzzle himself between them.

“Why so quiet now? We couldn't shut you up in those interrogation rooms, but now you're so polite and obedient.” You moaned around his thumb as he stroked your tongue, encouraging you to suck it.

You didn't need much instruction, desperate now to show off your superior skills to the man in front of you.

“That's it, show me how much you want it, my little whore.”

His hand slipped into your pants quietly, but you twitched as his hands feathered their way along your pelvic bone, twitching at the sensitivity of the connection.

His hands slipped into your panties and you knew immediately it was over for you. You were so wet, and he was going to be able to tell just how much you apparently wanted him.

You moaned as he roughly pushed your pants down, finger teasing your cunt through your panties as you still struggled to suck his thumb so you didn't make any louder noises.

“You're enjoying this.” It was no longer a question, but a confident statement, no curiosity but simple satisfaction at how good he was making you feel.

He pulled his thumb from your mouth, rubbing some saliva across your lips to make them shine before he turned you around and pushed you up against the wall. Your hands barely pushed out in from of you before your chest collided with the wall, and he was close behind you.

As he coaxed your panties down your legs, you closed your eyes and tried to keep your breathing steady, desperately clinging to some high ground where you could find it.

His fingers were hot and long, and they quickly found your clit and got to work as he ground his hard cock against your bare ass.

His pants were still on, but you could feel the outline of his dick against you, hips rutting back into him with each flick of his wrist.

“Now, come on Y/N. You said it's not charity if I receive something in return, right?” He whispered into your ear as you tried to reach behind you to grab his dick.

“We're going to take this nice and slow, and you're going to enjoy all of it.”

His fingers slowed to an aching pace as he finally pushed a first digit inside of you. His hips finished moving and his free hand held you still too, so the only friction was coming from that one hand between your legs, practically edging you.

“Fuck me, just fuck me Spencer.” You moaned in frustration.

“Doctor.” He whispered in your ear, the glee in his voice igniting your hatred of him all over again.

“What?” You spat out.

“Call me Doctor Reid, and I'll give you anything you want. You want to cum, right?”

His fingers kept their slow pace, and you could feel yourself growing more impatient, even as you grit your teeth together.

“Fuck me, Doctor Reid.”

“What about please?”

“Fuck you.” You instantly regretted your words when he pulled his hands off your body completely, retreating further into your house.

“No, shit, wait.-”

You scrambled after him as he took a seat on your couch, removing his jacket and loosening his already dishevelled tie.

“What do you want, Y/N?” He asked, palming himself through his pants as he watched you practically fall at his feet, needing his hands back on you.

“I want you to f-fuck me, please Doctor Reid.” He nodded slightly, pulling your remaining clothing off as he responded.

“That's a good little slut.” He led your hand over his cock and let you undo the buttons and pull him out. You needed no other instructions as he leaned back and pulled your legs into a firmer position.

You gave his cock a few strokes before lifting your hips and sinking back down onto him.

“So fucking wet for me, you were so aroused, baby.”

He didn't let you control the pace, but held your hips still just above him as he began pushing into you from below, lifting his hips to fill you up with each thrust.

You couldn't bite back the screams as his balls slapped against you, Spencer trying his best to fit his entire length into you with each deep thrust. You wanted to kill the man only an hour earlier, and now you were sure you wanted to have him inside you like this forever.

“Oh fuck, just like that, just like that Spencer please!”

Your hand drifted down to your cunt and you're began to rub feverishly, even as you felt the pressure build up from your gut.

The pressure was almost unbearable and before you knew it you were squirting on his cock, fingers splashing wave after wave of your arousal over his cock and clothes.

“Already squirting for me? I thought you didn't want anything to do with me, Y/N. I guess you are just a little whore.”

You twitched, but couldn't respond, as he began thrusting sloppier than ever before, grunting in your ear as he finally joined you in your mess.

His grip on your hip slipped as he finally started cumning, and you moaned feeling him so deep as he gathered you in his arms and pulled you chest to chest.

You sat there panting together for an eternity before you even thought about detangling your limbs from one another.

“You made a mess of my fucking sofa.” You said as you finally rose up slightly, looking down at the mess beneath you.

“No, Y/N, that was you. I simply helped.”

“Jackass.”

“Whore.”

You gasped as he laughed at you again, pulling your hips back down over his so you couldn't slide off his cock again.

“Don't act so scandalised when I can feel just how much that turned you on. You're enjoying this.”

You pouted a little, but let your head fall back against his chest.

“And what if I am, Agent Reid?”

[reilemon]

🍒My Everything🍒

♡︎ synopsis: You didn't plan on celebrating your birthday during undercover mission, but Xavier still wanted to surprise you. A little twist on the 21 Days memory.

♡︎ pairing: Xavier x fem!reader

｡°⚠︎°｡MINORS DNI (18+ ONLY)｡°⚠︎°｡

♡︎ cw: birthday sex, fingering, oral (both male and female receiving), creampie, multiple orgasms

♡︎ word count: 3.4k

♡︎ a/n: I call myself Zayne girlie yet here I am posting my fourth Xavier fic. Anyways, Sylus is next.

♡︎ requested by @sadfragilegirl ♡︎ special thanks to my beta reader ♡︎@its-de♡︎ for reading and helping me with this! divider by @cafekitsune

The undercover mission with Xavier has been going smoothly so far. You two put up a convincing act of a young couple in love in front of others, and actually got along well behind closed doors. You didn't want to tell him this, but you were genuinely surprised at how good of a homemaker he is. When you heard about the assignment, you were excited that it's him who's going to be living with you, but at the same time anxious. Xavier is a reliable work partner, but what would he be like as a roommate? So far, you had no complaints and actually were looking forward to coming home back to the apartment you and Xavier temporarily lived in for around three weeks.

As you mindlessly stroll around a grocery store, you reminisce about one more cause of anxiety about the mission - your crush on your coworker and neighbor. You're not sure when it started, but it doesn't matter because you made it your own mission to bury those feelings and hope they disintegrate. For a while you considered acting on it and taking the first step, but then you realized you had a lot to lose if it doesn't work out. And you tried to convince yourself that it was just a small crush, because who wouldn't want someone hot and reliable? Right?

A weary sigh leaves your lips and you turn a corner - Party Supplies. Oh. Right, it's your birthday today. You didn't say anything to Xavier because you didn't want to make him feel obligated to buy you a gift or make something today. You two are on a mission after all, and you can get to celebrate it later when it's over.

You pass the party supplies aisle and head towards the check out. You wonder what kind of concoction Xavier cooked today.

₊♡₊˚ 🍒・₊✧

Even though you settled on not celebrating your birthday today, you still wanted to treat Xavier, so you bought a cherry pie from a pastry shop that always smells so good and makes your mouth water every time on the way back from 'work'.

As you fiddle with your keys at the doorstep, you catch a whiff of something burning. Probably from the inside. Another sigh leaves your lips. Xavier burnt something again, didn't he?

Light gray smoke greets you as soon as you open the door, your eyes taking a moment to adjust and then you see Xavier frantically fanning a kitchen towel over the counter.

You can clearly see the panic in Xavier's eyes over the slowly dissipating smoke when he notices you coming in. "Ah - ! Welcome home!"

You can't help but laugh a little at the scene, but also be confused a little at his behavior. He's usually calm even when he causes a kitchen fire. "So what are we having for dinner?" You tease.

Xavier's shoulders slump in defeat and puts away the kitchen towel. He turns to you and finally looks at you properly, with a defeated smile "A neighbor made you one of your favorite dishes." He nudges his head towards the dining table. Your gaze follows his and you gasp at how beautifully the table was set, with the meal and your favorite flowers waiting for you.

"Xavier, what - "

"Oh, what's this?"

He approached you to take the bag with the groceries while your attention was on the table.

"Oh, I got us a cherry pie."

He only nods and goes back to the kitchen to unload everything.

You sneak towards the cremated object, "So, if we already had dinner, what was this supposed to be?"

"Uh, nothing. I was just experimenting." Xavier absentmindedly answers as he finishes putting everything away.

After he refuses your offer to help with airing out the apartment, you then excuse yourself to the bathroom to take a quick shower and change into more comfortable clothes.

When you exit the bathroom, the smell of what you assume to be burnt dessert is almost completely gone, and now you can see everything properly. You walk back into the dining area and your eyes land on Xavier waiting for you by the table. You gasp in delight when you see what's in his hands - a cute handmade paper crown in your favorite colors.

"Happy birthday." Xavier says softly and steps towards you, placing the crown on your head. It sits so perfectly that you think he might've taken your measurements.

You look up at him, still in disbelief "How did you - "

"Know when it's your birthday? I told you I looked at your profile." He chuckles at the silly question and turns to pull back your chair, offering you to take a seat.

While eating, you found out that what he burnt was supposed to be a birthday cake he thought you would like, but while it was baking he used that time to set the table and make the crown. He didn't want to make it earlier in case you found it. And then the neighbor came to drop off the meal and of course had to linger and chat and also invite herself over tomorrow.

"So, the groceries I bought today - "

"I didn't need any of that, I just wanted to buy myself more time."

You got used to Xavier's weird grocery shopping lists, that you didn't even question why you were buying ketchup, pesto sauce or sausages. You were so touched by the amount of effort and thoughtfulness he put into your birthday dinner; you were smiling the whole time. That crush is not going away anytime soon.

But you can tell that Xavier was almost like a deflated balloon, hesitantly answering your questions as you put two and two together.

You reach across the table, placing your hand over his. "I love everything you've done today." You reassure him in a comforting voice, "And it kinda worked out that the cake got burned, because then the pie would go to waste."

He nods, and you hope you made him feel a little better. Then, he takes your hand and places a soft peck on top of it, and you could feel your cheeks burning instantly. You hope he doesn't notice it.

He does.

After dinner, Xavier shoos you away from the kitchen, not letting you do any of the house chores on your day. So you go to the living room to unwind and wait for him to join you.

₊♡₊˚ 🍒・₊✧

"Sorry, I had to take a shower." Xavier finally appears and takes a seat next to you on the sofa. He's wearing sweats (those gray sweatpants!!) and a loose tshirt, his hair still a little damp from washing away the smoke.

"It's okay, I entertained myself." You throw the other half of your blanket over his lap.

"Did you pick out a movie?"

You nod and start playing the movie on the tv. Since you can't go out together as much thanks to the mission, you found ways to pass the time inside your 'new home'. One of them is watching old movies Xavier used to watch years ago.

And about five minutes into the movie, you feel fluffy gray hair tickling you cheek and nose as his head softly drops on your shoulder. You turn your head and of course, Xavier is already dozing off. You smile softly at him - it's only fair to let him rest, so you try to slowly get up and let him lie down on the soft pillows.

With eyes still closed, he lets you snuggle him into the pillows and the blanket, but then his lips form a playful smirk and in one swift motion, he pulls you under the blanket with him, into his arms.

"You can watch the movie like this, right?" He asks as sleepiness overtakes him again, with the crown, barely on your head, poking his cheek.

Your body is stiff against his, and your voice doesn't help hiding how flustered you are "Um, you don't want to go to your room to take a nap?"

"Nope." He mumbles before dozing off.

You adjust to make yourself more comfortable, resting your head on his chest. The movie is rolling, but it doesn't have your attention. All you can focus on is how relaxing Xavier's presence is, with his weird slow heartbeat and soft breathing. His one hand is holding you close by the waist, while the other one found its way on top of yours that's resting on his chest.

All the nervousness about being so close to him slowly melts away, and you drift off to sleep.

₊♡₊˚ 🍒・₊✧

When your eyes flutter open, Xavier's hand is in full focus as he tenderly caresses your cheek. The moonlight is the only source of light in the room now, and you wonder how long you slept. You prop yourself up a bit to look up at Xavier, but the crown you forgot you still had on slides off over your face, earning an amused laugh from him.

He takes it off for you and sets it on a nearby coffee table. Then he goes back to caressing your cheek.

"Did you sleep well?" He asks.

"Ye - Ow!" Numbness in your arm that was under you makes you grit your teeth and shift on the sofa in search for relief.

"Here." His arms effortlessly move you on top of him, your upper body completely resting on top of his, his legs encasing yours. "Better?" He asks as he grazes soothing circles on the numb arm.

Well you're not sure if it is better because your heart is beating like crazy now that you're on top of him, your faces a breath away. You did cuddle a little before, but you were never this close. So close you're sure he can feel your heartbeat. So you just nod, not trusting your voice.

You two share a moment in silence, gazing at each other’s features, Xavier's fingers still not leaving your face.

"It's a pity your birthday was during an undercover mission. I'll make it up to you when we get back."

You shake your head "This is one of my favorite birthdays actually." He raises his eyebrows, waiting for you to elaborate and hoping you're not just humoring him. "I mean, I had a lovely home and a handsome husband waiting for me. He got me beautiful flowers and made sure I had my favorite meal."

A tone of uncertainty covers your voice "Who should I thank for that?"

When met with a puzzled look you elaborate "Should I thank you as my fake husband playing his role, or as my coworker -"

The fingers on your cheek cover your lips, cutting you off. "Just thank me, Xavier." The digits gingerly graze your bottom lip.

You speak softly “Thank you, Xavier.” Butterflies dance in your belly as you mull over the next question. "And -" You swallow thickly before continuing "What am I to you, Xavier?"

He doesn't say anything, instead he timidly pulls you closer by the back of your head, closing what little distance you had between your faces, his soft lips giving yours a chaste kiss. And when you don't pull away, your hand cupping his cheek, he pulls into a deep, hungry kiss, your bodies pressed hard, feeling every twitch of the muscle and pulse of your veins under your skin - and it's impossible to ignore growing bulge pressing your lower belly.

Xavier curses under his breath "Sorry, I - !" his words get lost in his throat when your hand grazes over his length over the clothes, your lips latching back onto his.

He groans and bites your bottom lip when you give it a few more strokes, feeling out his shape.

Fuck, it's thick.

Growing impatient, you tug at the waistband of the sinful gray sweats, and Xavier lifts his hips and pulls them down just enough to free his rock hard dick. You break away from the kiss to not so subtly look down and even under the low lights you can clearly see it. The sight of it makes you unconsciously rub your thighs and your mouth water.

You might've stared a little too long because a chuckle from the man under you pulls you out from your trance. But he doesn't tease you, maybe because it's your birthday, instead he pulls you back into another breathtaking kiss, while your hand wraps around his length, slowly stroking it.

But you need more - and in the next moment you're sliding down, adjusting yourself between his legs.

A few strokes to the base of his cock and your tongue on the leaking tip elicits a moan from Xavier's lips, and you discover that it's your new favorite sound. So you do what you need to do to hear more of it. Your swirl your tongue around the tip, tasting precum and the tender skin, before you take in more of his length, and greedily you take more and more before your nose is pressed on his pelvis, short hairs of his happy trail tickling you. You don't care how your jaw is barely holding on around his girth, his moans is what keeps you going and panties already drenched. All restrain from Xavier dissipates with every lick of your tongue and clenching of your throat around the tip.

"Fuck, you're doing so good."

His hips start moving faster than your rhythm, his hand on your head holding you in place. Under the hand that's holding you for balance, you can feel his thigh muscles tremble, and you can feel his cock throb in your mouth.

"I'm gonna cum, princess." He gives you the warning, and loosens his grip on your head, but you take it all in, needing to taste him. And in few shallow thrusts, you're tasting and swallowing his cum, not letting a drop go to waste.

You barely catch your breath before Xavier lifts you up and locks his lips with yours, tongue licking your lips and tongue, tasting himself. Then he switches the positions with you, and now you're on your back, stripped of your pants and underwear, Xavier's lips locked with yours and his middle finger sliding between your wet folds. You moan into the kiss as the finger slides into your entrance, quickly followed by a second one. Your hips start moving to meet the pace, the digits hitting all the right spots and your release already building up. Then his thumb presses your clit that was begging for attention, eliciting a yelp from you making Xavier smile against your lips before continuing kissing you. In a few more pumps of his fingers against your sweet spot, you're a panting mess as you cum around them.

When you come down from your high, he brings up those soaked fingers to his lips and licks them, the sight making you blush. His dick twitches in his underwear as he gets a taste of your essence. He needs more.

Before you can even protest about how you're wet enough, he pushes your legs further up against your torso, his face already between them, his breath fanning against your pussy spreading goosebumps all over your skin. The only thing that stopped him from latching onto your pretty pussy is his need to take in the sight of it for the first time.

You cover your face with your hands, too self-conscious about the close up he's getting, even if there's no lights in here. "Xavier..." You whine and move your hips as much as you can under his grasp.

He chuckles at your cute reaction and whispers how perfect you are, then he finally presses his tongue flat against your glistening folds, and your embarrassment melts away. One hand moves from the back of your thigh under your shirt, fondling your breast and playing with your hard nipple until you're squirming from over-sensitivity and he moves to the other one. His lips latch onto your sensitive nub, swirling his tongue around it, sucking and lapping at it, while his other hand finds its way back into your entrance, two fingers easily slipping in and finding the spots that make you moan and buck your hips.

"Just like that - " You breathe, raking your fingers through his hair and holding onto it, while your other hand grabs onto the arm rest behind you, anchoring yourself as Xavier's tongue and fingers stimulate you at just the right pace and you cry out when another orgasm courses through your body.

Xavier soothingly massages your breast and peppers your inner thighs with kisses as you catch your breath.

You hear him ask against your plush thigh "One more?"

Your eyes open and meet his half lidded gaze. You shake your head and grab his wrist "Just fuck me, please."

He was already on edge of another orgasm from just eating you out, and your breathy plea made him so dangerously closer. He positions himself on top of you and pulling down his underwear that now has a big wet spot from his leaking tip. You watch as he positions his cock against your pussy until you hear his soft voice

"Look me in the eyes, honey."

And you lock your gaze with his, eyes barely staying open as the swollen tip slides inside. With languid thrusts, his cock is buried to the hilt and now Xavier needs to anchor himself - he rests on his elbow, burying his face in the crook of your neck, licking and nipping sensitive skin. His other hand finds yours and holds it tight, interlocking fingers and resting it next to your head.

His thrust are deep and hard, his pelvis grazing your clit, making your cunt throb and squeeze around him, making his movements falter. With a strained voice he breathes against your neck "Gonna cum on my cock?"

You nod as you clench around him more when you hear his voice and see his face as he comes up to lock eyes with you and you grab him by the back of his neck, pulling him into a sloppy open mouthed kiss.

You squeeze his hand and lock your legs around his hips as they roll at the right angle.

"I'm so close, honey." He rasps.

And you are seconds away from your third orgasm, your pussy already spasming. "Need you - haah - inside -!"

You open your mouth in a silent cry his dick throbs in your already pulsing creaming cunt, filling it with hot cum. The two of you moan and grunt, erratically moving your hips, riding out each other's high.

With shaky breaths, you slowly calm down and open your eyes.

The two of you can't help but laugh a little when you see each other's blissed out faces. Xavier gives the hand he's still holding a kiss. Your other hand presses on his back to press you completely against him, needing to feel his whole weight on you.

"I'm not crushing you?" he asks as his face is nuzzled against your neck.

You gently stroke his now messy hair. "No let's stay like this for a while."

₊♡₊˚ 🍒・₊✧

After cleaning up the mess on the sofa and showering, you're back in the dining room with the cherry pie on the table. Xavier put the candles on it and the princess crown back on your head. You're about to sit on Xavier's lap and then light the candles but then you remember something.

"Shoot, I almost forgot!"

Confused, Xavier watches you as you hurry out in the dining room. Your phone and the lighter are here, so he can't guess what you would need.

You come back with a giddy smile on your face as you hold something behind your back.

"Something for me?" he asks, amused at your expression.

"Yes, but it doesn't look that good because I had to make it quickly." You then reveal a handmade prince crown.

Xavier's eyes widen "When did you -?"

"I guess you forgot to clean up the living room after making mine, so I just scrambled something while you were showering."

Left speechless at your sweet gesture, his eyes switch between gazing at you and the crown.

You feel a little embarrassed at your craftsmanship because it looks poorly made compared to the one he made for you. "Okay, you looked at it enough. I'll make you a better one later."

He chuckles as you place it on his head and sit on his lap. He kisses your hand and then your lips "Thank you, I love it."

After lighting the candles, you close your eyes and make a wish.

[incendiobrock]

Drunk Confessions {Chris Sturniolo}

Summary: Chris, Nick, and fem!reader attend the Tara Yummy party and some drunken confessions are made later on in the night.

A/N: I kinda hate how I wrote this but my account is seriously lacking Chris content so hopefully you will enjoy anyways lmao, if it's not too shitty lmk if you might want a part 2

Warnings: drinking, mentions of throwing up, super sweet, fluffy chris 🥹

“Alright, you guys have fun!” Matt said as he dropped you Nick, and Chris off at the front of the building. You could hear the music blasting through the walls as people celebrated Tara. Matt wasn’t really feeling up to going to a party which worked perfectly in your favor knowing you had a reliable DD to pick you up later in the night. Chris and Nick wouldn’t drink either but you would never trust them to safely operate a vehicle so Matt was the best choice for the job.

Nick walked ahead of you as Chris stayed by your side, his right hand lightly touching your lower back as he guided you both inside. You all had smiles etched onto your face as you entered the upbeat atmosphere filled with some of your influencer friends. Tara immediately saw you guys and pulled you into a hug, “Thank you so much for coming!” She shouted over the music.

“We wouldn’t miss it!” You replied, congratulating her on hitting a million subscribers. Your eyes scanned the room noticing the bar, officially deciding that would be your next stop. Chris’s hand never left your lower back as he and Nick continued to talk to Tara. “I’ll be right back,” You said into Chris’s ear, departing the group.

The bar was filled with people trying to order different drinks. A special menu placed in the center with some specific drinks for Tara. You ordered a vodka cran and even got roped into taking a shot with some others that were at the bar. Without your knowledge, Chris kept a close eye on you from across the room. He loved seeing you have fun, especially knowing that you had been stressed with other things the past few weeks.

You needed to let loose and have a little fun, he thought. The liquor burned going down your throat as you took your shot, using a lime wedge as your chaser. Before you knew it, you were a few drinks in, and maybe a couple shots.

You felt like you were floating through the crowd as you made your way back to your friends. You wrapped an arms around both Chris and Nick’s shoulders, standing in between the two. “Heyyyy,” You slurred slightly.

“Where have you been?” Nick chuckled, trying to keep you supported as you swayed slightly into his side. “Yeah, you’ve been all over the place tonight. I saw you over at the bar and then over by the-“ Chris began before you cut him off.

“I wanna dance! Can we please danceee?” You begged, dragging out the end of your sentence. “You guys got this,” Nick said, passing you off to Chris. “Good luck kid.”

You looked up at Chris with big puppy dog eyes, silently restating your request to dance. “Of course, let’s go dance.” He said, placing his hand out for you to take hold of. His fingers interlocked with yours as he pulled you to the crowd of other people dancing. One of your favorite hype songs came on and you felt like you were on top of the world. You were facing Chris with a hand placed on each of his shoulders while his held your waist. You were both jumping around and singing the lyrics to one another. You couldn’t help but admire him as the flashing lights illuminated his face. Maybe it was the alcohol running through your veins but you wanted nothing more than to pull him in for a kiss.

After dancing for a few more songs Chris leaned down to your ear and yelling over the music, “You ready to go? Matt is here to pick us up!” A soft smile played on your face as you nodded, head still spinning from the drinks.

Chris had to practically lift you into your seat as your body stumbled to step up into the vehicle. “Okay- Okay sit still let me buckle you in.” Chris laughed, watching as you immediately started to fill Matt in on the night. The seatbelt buckle latched into place and Chris went to shut your door and hop into the passenger seat. “Chris-“ Your voice comes out in a whine, he glances behind his shoulder looking at you worried. “Are you gonna be sick?”

You shook your head ‘no’, staring into his eyes as he searched your face trying to figure out what was wrong. “Can you sit with me?” Nick agrees and switches seats with his brother, taking over the passenger seat. Chris’s fingers found your hair as he playfully brushed his fingers through it. The drive home was about twenty minutes and you didn’t know if you would make it. Nausea settled in your stomach as the alcohol mixed with the moving car. You ended up rolling down the window to get some fresh, cool air.

As soon as Matt pulled into the garage you were lunging out your door and inside the house. You ran to Chris’s bathroom, not having enough time to shut the door before you were over the toilet bowl. This wasn’t how you were planning on ending the night. Embarrassment started to settle in when you heard footsteps entering the bathroom. “Go awayyy,” you couldn’t lift your head up but you knew who stood in the doorway. The presence was by your side that very next second, “I’m not leaving.” His voice was barely above a whisper, trying to be gentle with you knowing you weren’t feeling well.

“Chris please, this is so embarrassing. I’m okay, I promise.”

“I know you are kid. I brought you some water, do you need anything else?”

“Maybe a shower.” You grumble.

Chris stood up and turned on the hot water for you, letting it heat up before you got in. Delicately, he helped you get out of the outfit you had on as you faced away from him, not wanting to expose yourself. His hand on your bare back as he helped get you into the shower.

Chris stayed right outside the shower, scrolling on his phone but making sure he was readily available if you needed anything. After the shower, you were being dressed in one of his shirts and a pair of his boxers.

Your body collided with his mattress as you pulled the covers over your body. Chris got in bed beside you, laying flat on his back and keeping a healthy distance between you two. “Can we please cuddle?” You whisper. Without any hesitation he pulled you into his chest, wrapping his arms around your torso.

“Thank you, Chris.”

“Don’t mention it kid. It’s no problem.”

Kid. That stupid nickname fell out of his mouth again for the second time tonight. It definitely didn’t feel very nice to hear him say it. You might regret this tomorrow but you were still feeling brave right now.

“Can I tell you something?”

“Yeah, what’s up.” He asked, looking down at your face as it continued to rest on his chest.

“I love you.”

A chuckle escaped past his lips, “I love you too-“

“No Chris. Like, I love you… I have for so long.” You watched as he tried to process the new information, his eyebrows furrowing slightly.

“I was scared to tell you because you’re like my best friend and I didn’t want to ruin that but, it’s true. I love you so much.” You finished your little spiel.

“I feel the same way about you, but please let’s talk about this tomorrow. I want you to be able to remember this.” He was so gentle with you, he always was. You had such a special spot that he held in his heart for you. You were sad that he didn’t want to talk about this right now but you knew he was probably right, he normally was. You wanted to remember this conversation and you weren’t certain that you would remember anything when you woke up the next morning.

“Go to sleepy pretty girl, I will talk to you about this in the morning. I want to be able to kiss you when you’re in the right state of mind.” His lips pressed a soft kiss on your cheek, lulling you to sleep.

[prettyboytsum]

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ day off I nanami kento pairing: nanami x reader tags: slice of life (maybe part of the series?), fluff, (no beta, we die like men) wc: 1,005

nanami kento doesn’t have days off.

ever.

in fact, nanami is the ideal employee, as per his (less than empathetic) bosses. he’s always punctual—clocking in at the exact time or ensuring he’s five minutes early to meetings. he’s reliable—even if the assignment was given the night before, rest assured he’ll have it done without working overtime. nanami has never requested for a day off—not for his birthday, not for meet-ups with friends, and not for special dates with you. he delivers the results necessary but rarely lacks or goes above and beyond.

it helps that he has a schedule. up at the crack of dawn—with only one alarm to wake him from his restful slumber. breakfast, a shower, and coffee all in an hour before he’s giving you your usual morning kiss and a reminder about your date that evening.

so, on one of the rare days that you aren’t needed in the office, and the chirping of birds or the slow sway of the sunlight doesn’t wake you up—an unusually warm body beside you does. you almost jump, this couldn’t possibly be your beloved. you half-expected to be able to spread yourself all over the bed for the morning, only to be denied when a lean body hits against your arm.

you groggily open one eye but your brain quickly works overdrive.

”don’t—don’t kidnap me,” you slur, sitting up quickly as you realize that there’s an arm around you. you rub your eyes, tripping over your words before you can muster up a more intimidating way to threaten this intruder. which, in retrospect, you don’t imagine to be very intimidating with your morning hair and nanami’s shirt as your pajamas dressing you. “’s not nice—i know a cop.”

”you do?” a voice responds, awfully familiar but you don’t let yourself get too comfortable. your eyes squint at the sunlight when you hear a gruff continuation. “i didn’t know any of our friends worked for the precinct.”

our friends? what type of friends could you even share with a—

you blink once. twice. before a realization dawns on you—one that swirls confusion, which seems to be a pre-requisite to the budding hope spreading throughout your chest.

”kento?” you ask, sitting a little straighter as you look at the space beside you. alas, your fiancé, in all his glory. nanami’s blonde hair sprawled over the white pillows, a mess before the usual pristine styling. his posture is relaxed, an arm resting behind his head as he looks at you with an amused expression, one that sits behind morning sleepiness that you haven’t been familiar with. not when he’s always the one to wake up. it doesn’t help that he’s topless. you find it a little unfair that he’s this attractive right after waking up.

”g’morning, darling.”

”good—good morning?! do you know what time it is?!” you splutter, looking at the bedside clock. of all your years of knowing him, nanami has never been late. you can’t help but think that tonight might be the first time he’s broken a global record.

you might have to start celebrating this milestone yearly.

”ten thirty-nine?” he muses, the amusement no longer hidden behind the usual morning grogginess. you look at him like he’s grown a third head.

”ten—ten?! kento, it’s way past your hours—”

”i know.”

”you know?! but you’re sitting here like you have a calvin klein shoot—”

”i took the day off.”

”you did what?!” you exclaim, almost as if you’ve heard the most absurd news of your life. to an extent, you kind of just did. “are you sick?”

”not that i know of, no, love,” nanami asks, now genuinely confused at your reaction. any other lover would celebrate a day where they could spend time together; a cafe, a slow day in, anything really. he finds your reaction amusing—and slightly disheartening. “is there a problem?”

there’s a silence as you soak it all in. a day. where nanami kento has willingly decided to not go to work. you can’t possibly fathom a reason why he isn’t clocking in his office with the most uncomfortable chair known to man. surely, there’s paperwork that nanami can’t miss out on—or so he claims every time you grumble about him leaving so early in the morning.

”problem? no. irregularity? yes.” you respond, finally shifting in the bed to turn to properly face him. he’s propped up by his arm—looking far too handsome for a man who just left his company in shambles (he didn’t). “you’ve never taken a day off.”

a pause as nanami thinks before he shrugs. “i guess i haven’t. there’s never been an urgent reason to file for one.”

"oh, and my—”

”yes, darling, your morning pouting is not categorized as urgent.” he responds, biting back an amused smile as you immediately let a huff out. the familiar jut of your lips only entertaining him further. “but it did do a number on me. i thought to take a day off so we could spend time together.”

you squint your eyes in response—almost accusingly as you cross your arms. he lets out a chuckle—a little rough with morning sleepiness but it’s attractive nonetheless. there’s a set of arms that wrap around your waist, pulling you closer to him until you’re practically on his lap. nanami’s chin rests on your shoulder, your back to his chest as he keeps his arm around your middle.

��so suspicious? just cause of my day off?” he whispers into your ear, planting a kiss on your shoulder. your heart stutters. “had the whole day planned out, princess.”

there’s a familiar giddy feeling that spreads through your chest—a familiar sensation when it comes to being around nanami. one of his hands interlocks with your left, his fingers playing with the stone he bought you a couple of weeks ago. a promise for a lifetime together—and an unforgettable wedding, he assures you.

”i’m marrying you after all, it’s only right that i want to spoil my wife.”

✩ author's note: i need him in ways that are concerning to feminism. i need him with me. ⓒ prettyboytsum 2024. all works are posted under this account on tumblr.com and are protected by copyright laws. do not plagiarise these works on any other platform or account.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Family Affair

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, cheating, violence, humiliation, biting, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your sister surprises you with good news but you find it difficult to be happy for her. (older, short reader)

Character: Curtis Everett

Note: Happy Curtmas.

For @the-slumberparty Naughty or Nice Challenge.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me 💞

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

Chatter buzzes from the front room as you brace the wall and lift your foot to unzip your wedge boot. You’re late and the guests are already in the throes of their celebration. You wiggle off both boots and set them amid the clutter of many. As you stand straight and gather up your gift bags and purse, you’re met with an unexpected sight.

You lift a brow, slightly confused by the unfamiliar man. He’s tall, his hair is cut short, and dark stubble adds definition to his well-formed jaw. His eyes are a bold shade of aquamarine but are glossed over with an almost indifferent gleam. He doesn’t say a word as your eyes meet and he just as quickly turns into the front room, hands tucked into the pockets of his black jeans.

It’s been a few years. You’re sure a lot has changed. You head down the hall, past the broad archway of the front room, and into the kitchen. As usual, your mother is there, readying another tray of finger foods.

She looks up from her intent work and gives a wide smile, “you’re here!” She chimes, “I was half-waiting for a call saying you wouldn’t make it.”

Her arrow hits the bullseye of your guilt. You haven’t been the most reliable. You can make excuses; the divorce, work, depression. None of that can assuage her.

“Sorry, mom,” you go to put the gift bags down and she stops you with a tut.

“Ah, ah, you go add those to the pile and say hello,” she demands, “you’re not hiding in here.”

You look at her, almost desperate. You love her but sometimes you wonder if that feeling is mutual. As much as she’s right, you hoped she might have some empathy. She’s been through a turbulent split, she’s had to start again, but she expects you to do it flawlessly. As she has anything else.

“Love you, mom,” you give a sheepish smile.

“Love you too, hon,” she goes back to arrange the spiral of cocktail weenies, “make sure you say hello to your sister. She’s so excited to see you.”

You nod and a real smile breaks through. That was the one light at the end of the tunnel. Your baby sister was always your favourite. Despite nearly two decades between you, she’s your best friend. In a way, you feel like a second mother, taking pride in her like you would a child of your own.

The front room is filled to the brim. Aunt Geri and Uncle Val sit on a sofa with their son, Miko. A cluster of similarly aged cousins stand at the edge of the couch chatting. Aunt Maureen argues with Aunt Kaya, and the latter’s husband stands by the window with a glass in hand and his mind a million miles away.

You always found yourself out of place at these things. When you were a child, you were the youngest one in the room. Too immature to understand the dialogue of your elders. As you got older, the other cousins came along and were too young for your angsty teenage self. Now, you’re caught in the desert between the eras; the retirees complain too much and the coeds talk too loud.

You peer around. A set of broad shoulders draws your eye in the corner of the room. It’s that same man you saw before. He has his back to you as he maintains a casual posture. As he leans on one leg, you see your sister, Adeline, gabbing to him. Oh, he must be with her…

As you drop your gifts under the tree, you mull the revelation. You suppose the assumption wasn’t obvious. At first glance, he’s older than her, or maybe he just looks it. She’s still a sophomore in college but you suppose that makes even more sense. These are the years she gets to figure it all out.

You face the room and stop as Aunt Maureen latches onto your arm, blindsiding you with Kaya as they close in like hyenas.

“There she is,” Maureen slurs.

“Not too good for us after all, huh?” Kaya challenges.

“What? No, uh, Merry Christmas–”

“Where’s Benny?” Maureen interrupts. You blanch, nearly choking on your tongue. The mention of your ex-husband has you breathless.

“Maur,” Kaya hisses, “remember…”

“Probably with his new girlfriend,” you say tersely.

“Oh my,” Maureen lets you go and slaps her forehead, “I’m so sorry. The wine…”

“It’s… okay,” you shrug. “Not talking about it won’t undo it.”

“He was such a charming man,” Maureen hums mournfully. You blink at her.

“His loss,” Kaya pats your arm gently, trying to clean up her sister’s mess. You know they all think the same. You had a good thing and you blew it. Even if you told them he fucked his co-worker, you’d be the one who threw it all away.

“Pity you never got a kid outta him,” Maureen sighs.

“Really, divorce has been final for a year, I’m good,” you insist and shuffle past them, “I’m going to make the rounds.”

“Don’t forget to have some wine,” Maureen calls after you, “takes the edge off disappointment, you know?”

You growl and shake your head as you stalk away. You wave hello to your other aunt and uncle, hoping to avoid a similarly humiliating encounter, and weave through the sea of guffawing cousins. You come out on the other side as Adeline beams up at her guest.

Her gaze is drawn by your movement and her face lights up. She bounces in place and throws her arms out. She rushes past the man and has you wrapped up in a hug. It’s kind of ridiculous how much taller she is. You’re supposed to be the bigger sister.

“You’re here!” She rocks you in her embrace, “eek! I’m so excited.”

You croak out a breath as she squeezes the air out of you. She releases you with a giggle, apologising as she steps back. She wears a long tulle skirt and a beaded sweater. She’s beautiful. You could never pull something like that off, even twenty years ago.

“Oh, oh, you have to meet Curtis,” she snatches your hand and tugs you over the tall man as he turns to face you. Those same vague eyes fall upon you, “Curtis, this is my sister!”

“Curtis,” you repeat, “it’s nice to meet you.”

You look between them with a brittle smile. He offers his hand as he returns the sentiment. You shake, his palm rough and calloused. Adeline vibrates with joy.

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” he says. 

“And I’ve heard nothing about you,” you grin at Adeline, “Addy?”

“I’m sorry,” she cups her cheeks guiltily, a sparkle on her ring finger. Your heart drops. “I didn’t know how to– the divorce and–”

“Ad,” you wisp and nearly sway on your feet, “what is that?”

You point to her hand and she quickly swipes it away, hiding it behind her back. “Nothing,” she gulps, the same way she did when she was a child and you caught her playing with your makeup.

There’s a tense silence as you gape in shock. Your mouth hangs open as you search for the words. Your eyes tinge with hot tears but you swallow them back.

“Congratulations,” you draw her into a hug, “really, I’m happy for you.”

She hugs you back, gentler than before. As you part, she looks nervous. Curtis clears his throat.

“Both of you,” you offer him a fragile smile. “I’m sorry, I’m just a little… shocked. Does mom know?”

Adeline nods as she clasps her hands together. You take a breath, and calm yourself. It’s not anything that she fears, you’re not jealous. You’re nervous, you’re afraid for her. It’s a big thing and she’s so young.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been around to share the good news,” you say, “I’d love to help, if I can?”

“We got it,” Curtis insists.

“Oh,” you wince, “I didn’t mean– I could help with the planning or the engagement part–”

“We’re eloping,” he crosses his arms, “we’re not wedding people. Whole lot of money and fanfare for nothing.”

You nod, holding back your surprise as best you can. Nothing? It’s marriage. Even if they don’t want a big ceremony, it means something.

“I could help pay for the trip–”

“I got it,” he enunciates each word as he sidles over to sling his arm around your sister’s back. She looks away meekly.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to overstep. She’s my sister, I just want to–”

“If you wanted to help, you would’ve been around the last two years,” he interjects.

Adeline’s head snaps around as she gives him a look. She nudges him with her elbow and whispers his name. He glares at you as you wilt. You’re not sure what you’ve done or said.

“Well, I think maybe me and Addy can talk about that,” you look at your sister, “when you have a chance, of course. I don’t want to spoil the holiday.”

“Adeline,” he corrects you, “Addy is so juvenile.”

The benefit of the doubt splinters as his tone cuts through you. You bite your tongue. Perhaps a twenty-one year old is juvenile to someone his age. You’ll talk to Addy about that too.

“Adeline,” you force a smile, “I… I’m going to go check on mom.” You show a palm in deference as you excuse yourself, “we’ll catch up later.”

As you back away, your eyes meet Curtis’. He watches you with a scowl. You are taken completely off balance. How could she end up with someone like him? She’s so sweet and he’s so scary…

Maybe she’s afraid too.

🎄

Christmas Eve ends much the same as you remember. The elders sit around the dining table to play cards as the kids, now adults, disperse in the living room or outside to entertain themselves. There’s a vague stench near the front door that no one will comment on but everyone knows what it is as it wafts in from outside.

You find yourself in limbo, once more caught in the in-between. You hole up in the kitchen, staring at the kettle as you wait for it to tremble. You won’t be missed if you take a tea up to your assigned room without a good night.

You lean on the counter and sigh, your finger brushing over the brim of the white porcelain cup with the hen on it. Strange how your mother’s house never seems to change but your life is inextricably altered. Your melancholy dims the cheery decor around you as you wallow away from the voices of the merry.

“There you are,” Adeline startles you as she sweeps in, “oh, is there any of the hot choccy left?”

You smile at her question. Everything about her reminds you of the time passed, of her newfound adulthood, yet she’s just the same little girl you always knew. You turn and pull the tin forward, “one packet left, just for you.”

You pull it out and face her again. She pulls out a mug from the cupboard and sets it down. The kettle hums between you as it heats up.

She exhales as you linger in a tense silence. You both have so much to say but neither of you know where to start. She finds her words first. Despite being younger, she was always the more outspoken.

“Do you like him?” She asks.

You poke your tongue into your cheek, “well, I’ve barely spoken to him. He seems to like you though.”

Her cheeks bulb as she grins bashfully, “I love him.”

Your chest seizes as you recognize that glimmer in her eye. She’s genuine, she feels that love so deeply it consumes her. It’s a naive love but real nonetheless. The sort you can’t see for what it is until it turns sour.

“I can tell,” you reach forward to fix the bow on her headband, “I’m happy for you. And my offer still stands. Maybe if it’s not the wedding, a honeymoon, or help with a house…” you wet your lips and steady your voice, “I only want you to be happy, Addy– Adeline.”

“Oh, he’s just… he’s like that. I can’t even call him Curt. He balances me out,” she beams.

“Yeah,” you say noncommittally.

“What?” Her voice dampens.

“Nothing,” you distract yourself with the variety of tea bags in the wooden chest next to the breadbox, “it’s… a lot. I’m surprised, is all. I just hope it goes well.”

She sniffs and lets her breath out long and heavy, “I’m sorry, I knew– he kinda said you’d probably be upset. After Benny–”

“This has nothing to do with him,” you narrow your eyes at her, a bag of chai in your hand, “this is about you. I only want what’s best for you.”

“He’s so good to me, you don’t have to worry.”

“I can worry, you’re my baby sister,” you insist, “and…” You shake your head, refusing to let the thought escape.

“And what?” She challenges, her pitch squeaking.

“Nothing.”

“No, tell me. I can always tell when you’re dying to say something. What?”

You shrug, “it’s just… how old is he?”

She scoffs, “wow.”

“What? I’m just asking.”

“It’s not like he’s old enough to be dad,” she pouts and crosses her arms.

“I know, I didn’t mean– Ad–Adeline, I just— you have time to figure it out. So I hope you’re not rushing this.”

“I’m not,” she snips, an uncharacteristic edge in her voice.

“I believe you… but what about him?”

She’s quiet as the kettle clicks, signalling the boiling point. You turn and drop the tea bag into your cup and pour the water. She tears open the packet and empties it into her own mug.

“Sorry,” you utter, “forget it. I… I don’t know him so maybe I need to get to know him. I’m here, Ad, and I will always be here for you.”

She nods and reaches for the kettle, not looking at you.

“Really, I trust you. I just worry about you,” you clap your hand on her shoulder, “you’re my lil teddy bear.”

She chuckles and looks down at you, your statement made absurd by the difference in your heights.

“And you’re the big grizzly, scaring off the wolves,” she kids back.

“Adeline,” the deep rumble thunders in ahead of the man, making both of you jump. You pull back your hand as Curtis strides in, “hey, I’ve been waiting on you.”

“Oh, sorry, baby,” she preens at him, “I was just–”

“You said we’d call my family after dinner,” he interrupts.

“I forgot,” she squeals, “oh, I’m so sorry.” She glances over at you, “I did promise.”

“Go on,” you try to smile but you’re not sure it’s showing.

She spins and flits over to Curtis. His eyes meet yours over her shoulder. His brows arch as his jaw is set in stone. A chill runs up your spine at the ice in his dark pupils. He grabs Adeline’s hand and drags her out.

You’re left in silence. You look over at the unmixed powder floating in the steaming water. You chew your lip as you stare at it. It’s just hot chocolate but there’s something about her abandoning something she loves so much for him. You try not to let your own failed marriage echo over her relationship, but it just feels off.

Well, Benny always did say you never did handle change very well.

🎄

The night before Christmas is rarely a restful one. Even without the childish belief in Saint Nick, you find yourself awake, anxious but not for presents. You keep replaying the night through your head; not the awkward interactions with aunts and uncles, or the silent judgment from the younger crowd, but Adeline and Curtis. Let it go, it’s none of your business.

You huff and roll on your back. Sleep eludes you. You sit up and bend over the side of the bed. You hold your head. You’ll sneak out the bathroom and hopefully an empty bladder will help.

You drag your feet across the floor, the legs of your pajama pants too long and trailing down your feet. You open the door and yawn as you enter the hall, only to collide with another unexpected barrier. Before you can react, you’re being forced back into the guestroom, stumbling as your fingers claw at the door frame and slip off.

A hand smothers your mouth, rough against your lips, as a foot kicks the door shut with a sharp click. You murmur into the calloused flesh as an arm loops around your back, trapping you as you’re urged further into the dark. You grasp at the cotton clinging to muscular shoulder. You’re kept off balance by your attacker’s certainty.

“I fucking heard you,” Curtis’ silty grit seeps into your ears, “you think I’d hurt her?” He snarls as he stops you at the foot of the bed. His shadow looms over you, breath puffing from his nostrils as he growls like a beast, “I wouldn’t, but I’ll hurt you.”

He pushes you back so your legs meet the side of the bed. You teeter and clasp your hand around his wrist, squeaking as he easily takes you down onto the mattress. He pins you, your legs hanging off the end, kicking weakly as his other hand curves around your throat.

He bends over you, straddling your chest heavily. You can’t breathe. Your heart pounds until your ears throb. Your temples pulse violently and your throat dries to a sandy scrape.

“Stay out of my fucking business,” he snarls, sliding down your body.

You whimper into his hand as he drops his knees off the bed, holding himself over you. He squeezes your neck, choking out your voice as he drags his hand from your mouth. He feels along your chest and flicks open the top button of your shirt. Your eyes wet in horror.

“Fucking show you…” he sneers as his breath scours over your flesh.

Another button undone as his lips tick along your shoulder. You squeak once more as he sinks his teeth into your flesh, biting a mean pinch until you spasm. The pain is unbearable. You feel the skin break as the hot flow of blood mingles with his spit.

He detaches only to bite you again. You can’t make a noise as his grip grows tighter on your neck. Even if you could scream, you’re too terrified and confused to understand what he’s doing. He’s like an animal tearing you apart. 

He lays a tortured path down your chest, lingering on the rise of flesh, gnawing into the tenderness there. His nails dig into your side, pushing up your shirt as he scratches hot lines into your skin. You push on his shoulders desperately but he’s too strong.

“Stop filling her head with your bitterness,” he growls before he bites into your nipple. 

You shake and beat on his head, shoulders, and back. You writhe and wrestle, trying to free yourself from him. He continues on, down your stomach, lingering on the soft flesh as his fingers hook into the elastic of your pants.

Your panic overflows with your tears. This can’t be happening. Why would he do this? He could talk to you? You would listen. You didn’t say anything wrong, you just want Adeline to be careful.

The very thought of your sister throttles you. Does he do this to her? Is this why she’s so defensive? The idea makes you sick to your stomach.

He lifts himself, his weight centering on your neck. You think he’ll crush your windpipe as he looms over you, snarling in the blackness. He pushes you higher onto the bed, forcing your legs open with his knees.

“Don’t make a fucking noise or I’ll make sure you can’t,” he threatens, giving a last squeeze before slowly slackening his grip.

You hold your breath. You believe him. Your body goes limp and you close your eyes. The bed shifts as he sits back on his heels. He pulls your pants down your thighs and you whine. He hushes you, a harsh tap across your cheek to get his point across.

You let your head drift to one side as you clench the blanket beneath you in tight fists. He keeps your legs trapped in your pants, knees bent as the fabric strains across his stomach. He tilts and movies around, his fingernails scratching the back of your thighs.

“Bet the husband couldn’t stand your fucking mouth,” he snarls as he pushes roughly against your cunt. “Didn’t know how to train you.” He jams two fingers into you, jolting your entire body, “dry bitch like you, he was probably thirsty as fuck.”

You seal your eyes tight, tears trickling through as a sob bubbles in your throat. You want to tell him to stop. You want to ask why. You want to scream. You can’t do anything as your body locks up.

He fingers you meanly, pulling his fingers out only to ram them in again, each time his knuckles hit you painfully. He keeps it up, growling with each intrusion as your muscles knots and pathetic noises rise from your throat.

He forces your legs higher, tearing his hand away from your pelvis. He adjusts his knees and you feel something else against your cunt. 

“No…” you whisper right as he ruts into you.

He splits you apart around him. You let out a holler and he quickly silences you with a crack of his knuckles. The back of his hand snaps off your cheek and turns your head to the other side. You gulp and sob, choking back any noise that threatens to bubble over.

He holds himself as deep as he can. He puts his large hands on your shoulders and pins you flat. He bucks, agony rippling up your spine. He snaps his hips, again and again, each time harder than the last.

“This is what you need. So fucking jealous, aren’t you? Dried up old bitch,” he pumps into you as his breath picks up, “why kind of sister are you, huh? Fucking your baby sister’s man. Fucking slut.”

You cover your face and heave. You’re drowned in pain and humiliation. You’re disgusted with him for doing this to you; and yourself for letting him.

“You don’t wanna hurt her, do you?” He growls, “that’s why this is happening… cause you wanna keep her safe, right?”

He puts his hand against your head and pushes it down into the bed, fucking you into the mattress. The frame pounds the wall, matching his furious rhythm. You reach to brace his thick arm, begging silently for it to end.

“Oh, it’ll be over soon,” he rasps as his hand once more frames your throat, “fuck, you got me ready to blow quicker than I thought.” He puffs, each thrust rattling your bones, “I love how weak you are.”

[museum-mind]

I LIKE THE WAY YOU KISS ME

ᯓ★ after receiving (and ignoring) your text which was calling him out, sae found himself growing nervous as he arrived in japan for the u20 match. what would happen to his fluttering heart as he watches you cheer for blue lock in the bleachers?

a/n : guess who’s back!!!! also, i’m sorry i forgot to link this to the request so a special shout-out to the anon who asked for a part 2. love ya!! ALSO! i apologise if this doesn’t match the blue lock manga / timeline.. i literally forgot like everything ( ；∀；)

“please wait until the aircraft has parked to take off your seatbelt.” the flight attendant spoke into the speaker with a commercial smile.

the rest of the words from her blurred, as a pool of emotions swirled deeply in sae’s gut. he can’t believe it, he thinks, as he stands up from the cramped airport seat, unbuckling his seatbelt. is he really here? the country he swore to never step foot in again — the home of the same person who he thought he’d never get the chance to see again.

it’s not like he want to see you, right? he’d mutter to himself, his feet carrying him through the airport quickly as he dragged his suitcase behind him.

as sae called over for a taxi, he couldn’t help but feel a wave of dread wash over him. he sighed, letting the driver to whatever car drove to him pick up his luggage and place it in the trunk.

he’d open the car door, taking a seat in the back as he placed his sports bag beside him before buckling himself in.

the drive was silent, apart from awkward attempts at small talk from the driver — sae couldn’t stand it.

he wouldn’t say it was horrible to be here — but it certainly wasn’t enjoyable to be here. the japan u20 team was full of a group of weirdos. and the only reliable player he could pluck from blue lock was even worse.

“saaaeeee~” the said man squealed, twisting his body as a delighted grin finds it’s way onto his face. “i’m so excited to play with youuuu!”

sae rolled his eyes, reaching one of his hands to massage his shoulder. he groaned at the feeling; he still felt sore.

no matter how much practice he had, he could never relieve himself of the pain as good as you could. your hands were made for him.

“you need help with that?”

“no.”

“awww, come onnnn!”

“i said no.”

“itoshi sae!” the announcer called out his name, cameras flashing all across the stadium as he stepped foot onto the field.

“aaaand… ryusei shidou!”

sae rolled his eyes as the man jumped onto his back, shouting a range of odd phrases.

his sharp teal eyes scanned the crowd, and for a moment — the world stopped. he caught the gaze of a familiar person he used to know.

you.

you were just as perfect as he last remembered; maybe even more. you both held eye contact for a moment, sae being the one to break it and look away from you.

why were his cheeks so warm?

“come on you two, hurry up! the game’s starting soon.” the dual haired man would shout towards sae and shidou, ignoring the flustered expression on a certain player’s face.

the game went by pretty smoothly — sae was able to push you to the back of his mind, eyes focused on the field only. that was, until he heard the sweet sound of your voice.

it’s so familiar, so welcoming, he thinks.

“come on blue lock!!” you’d shout, arms raised high as your cheer for your friends. after you and sae ended, you ventured out into the world, eventually befriending a pretty woman named anri.

she introduced you to the group of rowdy foot ball players who stay cooped up in the soccer facility, and you became fast friends. she even let you work there as her assistant! totally not an excuse for you both to gossip together about which celebrities you think are the cutest.

you had grown fond of the bunch, even meeting sae’s younger brother. at first, he was wary. but as soon as he realised you were not like his brother, he saw you as an older sister of sorts.

the sibling he wished he could have forever.

“go rin, you got this!” you scream out for him, hands waving towards him with a large smile on your face as he glances your way, sending a brief, bashful smile back.

sae could barley believe his ears, quickly whipping his head around as he watched his brother grow more determined.

sae felt so frustrated. you should be cheering for him like that! but he messed up.

he messed up big time.

after a treacherous amount of time, sae could finally take a break at halftime.

“where did you keep looking off to?” one of the u20 players would ask sae, taking a sip out of his water bottle.

“no one.” sae would snap back — a little too quickly.

“what?”

“i wasn’t looking at anyone.”

“i never said you were looking at anyone?”

in the end, u20 lost. it almost brought sae back to his first game in spain.

he lost, thinking about you.

as he ventured out of the stadium, he was immediately caught by paparazzi and news reporters.

he paid no mind, staying on his track toward the car which was picking him up.

“itoshi sae, how do you feel about the outcome of today’s match?” a woman would ask, practically shoving a microphone into his face.

he scowled, a hand reaching to swat it away slightly. he looked off to the side, lifting the same hand to cover his eyes and shield them from the blinding lights.

but as he locked his gaze on you once again, he paused. a feeling that he couldn’t quite name came over him as he stood still for a moment. it was only a matter of time before the paparazzi would follow his line of sight, he thought as his feet began to bring him towards you.

he had to hold onto the strap of his bag tightly, afraid that he’d be caught trembling as he reaches. a shaky hand to grab onto you, pulling you into the shadows of a dark alleyway.

what was he doing?!

“shh.” he’d hush, placing his large palm over your lips as he leaned a little closer to you, a hand pulling you against his chest as he peeked over the corner. he watched the paparazzi run around like a bunch of rats, scurrying to find something, anything to write about.

he scoffed, rolling his eyes before looking down at you. your eyes were wide, and he could feel the way you’re holding your breath. “calm down.”

you bit at his palm, your eyebrows furrowing together in anger as you pulled away. “calm down?!” you whisper shout to the man. “how am i supposed to do that? what is wrong with you?”

“just take a few breaths — like i told you.”

“that was years ago!”

sae stopped. this was futile. he was never able to properly explain his feelings to you. he doesn’t know why, but whenever he’s around you he feels his throat tighten and his stomach flutter. his head is light and his cheeks are warm.

only you could have such an effect on him, he thinks.

before you could say another word, he leaned down, lips pressing against yours as his eyes shut. he hoped that maybe — just maybe — this could tell you everything he wanted to tell you.

everything you deserve to know.

with a soft touch of his lips, he knows you’ll understand. you always did, he remembers.

“sae.” you mumble as he pulls away, your eyes blinking open.

he breathes out, only for a gasp to get stuck in his throat as you lean towards him, returning the kiss. you were so gentle, so loving.

“don’t say another word to me.” you say after breaking away. “your kisses are enough for me to understand how you feel.”

“i like the way you kiss me, name.”

“i know.”

[f1version]

little things — request a driver + prompt or a song and i will write some headcanons

daniel ricciardo + fantasy (kali uchis, don toliver)

FANTASY ★ DR3

pairing: daniel ricciardo x gf! reader ( she/her ) word count: 877

2k celebration ★ navigation

You met him in May 2018, out with your friends in Monaco after the Grand Prix. Friends of friends led you to the winner’s party, which led the winner’s eyes to follow you all night.

Daniel was overconfident that night, introducing himself as “the man of your dreams”, flirting shamelessly, and getting you to dance with him. Begging for you not to lose your focus on him, becoming obsessed with how you talked, looked, and reacted to him. The Aussie didn’t know if it was the alcohol but the night he was supposed to be the center of the universe, you became his.

“Is it okay if I ask for your number, Sweetheart?” He had been planning on asking you via a joke, but nervousness finally caught up to him. He was the luckiest man alive when you said yes. 

Then he became a constant in your life, date after date, touch after touch. It all felt natural, learning about the other (from globally known facts to your deepest secrets, from mind to body) made you fall for the other even harder. 

An official relationship was no surprise to your friends, Scotty being the most excited from Dan’s side. “I’m telling ya mate, he didn’t shut up about you for a second”

He gave you all and you happily received it: The hugs, the kisses, the jokes, the dates, the lazy days, the jewelry, the flowers, the sweet nothings on your ear, the dirty obscure ones in bed. He worshiped you and it was everything.

It felt like a fantasy sometimes, hidden in your apartment in Monaco or his home in Perth. So far yet so close to F1.

But that’s the catch, isn't it? The flaw everyone sees in these relationships. Daniel is an F1 driver, a traveler. Sometimes, schedules create disharmony, small arguments come around, and busy days make you wish you were lazy in bed together.

Both of you have learned that there are a lot of things that make a relationship tougher than it is. There are times when it’ll get lonely in your apartment or his hotel room, and others when you will fall asleep laughing at each other’s jokes. 

It never broke you down, you always tried to pull the other up. 

One time, when the distance was unbearable, you ended up arguing about why Daniel had to change his toothbrush over Facetime. “You never fucking understand me!” “Well make me fucking do it, sweetheart!” It had been stupid but both of you were frustrated, overwhelmed by it all. The call fell quiet for 12 minutes after the fighting ceased, both laying in bed, thinking and looking at the ceiling. “Baby,” “Yeah?” “Tell me why you’re mad at me”

You talk it out, that’s how you get through it. Communication has always been key, voicing your concerns most of the time, and doing your best in listening to the other (it isn’t completely fight-proof but it works).

Eventually, you even have an emoji system over text for tougher and busier days, it lets the other know when you don’t feel well or if one is mad, doesn’t want to talk, or just has to spend a bit more time at work.

You close distance with long calls, loving (and a bit dirty) texts, sweet presents, daily photo dumps, and more. It’s like you are right by the other’s side.

Daniel also put a lot of effort into the traveling bit, when he couldn't fly you out with him, he would try to get back to you as soon as he was allowed. His most reliable route to leave fast (from f1 weekends) is Max, the man is always arriving late and leaving early. Danny found his balance, sharing it with you, and it made the situation improve by a mile.

When you are together, you are proof that love usually triumphs over anger or bitterness. Sharing moments you will never get tired of.

Kisses down your back are something you will never get tired of. Daniel loving you so deeply he brings tears to your eyes at night, pleasure filling your heart will never be tiring. “I love you” will never get old. 

“So, that obsession keeps your bond healthy,” Seb told Daniel once, and he sort of believed his ex-teammate was right. He wouldn’t exactly call it an obsession but you were someone he couldn’t live without, someone he wanted to drown himself in for the rest of his life (yet not an obsession, he said) (or maybe yes, he was obsessed) (“in a healthy way” “sure Danny”)

You weren’t safe from it though. You couldn’t stop talking about him, thinking about him, or cheering on him. Race weekends were your safe haven, watching his interviews and putting on his point of view. Sending hundreds of texts and selfies after, no matter the result.

He read those texts, looked at those pictures and, even if he had DNFed, he felt better. You loved him unconditionally and that drove him crazy (pun intended)

At the end of the day, you loved, worshiped, and treasured the other. Yes, you made mistakes, but you made it right eventually. 

That’s it, that’s the end of the hcs <3

[my-writings-and-musings]

hello! i loved the recent earthspark bee story so much, can i request something similar but with earthspark megatron? anything involving robot babies works honestly, such a cute concept

(i apologize if this is too vague, thank you regardless!)

I was totally hoping to get asks for more yes EXCELLENT I have been so utterly swamped I needed something self indulgent to keep my writing going!

Here's the original with Bee for those curious!!

Please enjoy some Megatron being a brand new dad and having some feelings about it.

"Shouldn't you be getting something for yourself?"

Megatron was stopped in his tracks by the almost startling sound of another's voice, having been in such a fog he'd walked right by Optimus and hadn't even realized it. Turning to find his old friend standing beside the base of the Dugout stairs, he noticed a cube of energon in his outstretched servo, and though he couldn't deny being a tad bit hungry he didn't feel ready to take the time to refuel. 

"Later, perhaps." he declined politely, looking down at the human sized tray of food cupped in his palm. Between his massive size and the elaborate spread of steaming food across the tiny surface, he didn't dare make any sudden movements, lest his mate be left without nourishment even a minute longer than necessary. With all you'd been through, he didn't feel right delaying as long as he already had. Ignoring his desire for the cube, he turned to head off for the medical bay. "Y/N needs food far more than I do."

"Is there some kind of rule that new creators can't eat at the same time?" Optimus replied with a touch of playful sass as he walked in step with his friend. Megatron would have rolled his optics at the quip and shot one back, but with his lack of fuel and sleep combined with the jubilant celebration of the past few hours, he couldn't manage anything more than an amused sigh. There was simply too much to celebrate to bother being cross, no matter how hungry or exhausted he may have become with the increasingly late hour. Optimus followed him to the medical bay, stepping as quietly as their massive frames allowed so as not to wake the Terrans sleeping in their respective rooms.

"You need to take care of yourself if you want to take care of others, old friend." the Prime advised as they left the main area, smiling all the while. Megatron sighed again, this time because he couldn't think of a rebuttal to the wisdom his friend had to offer. 

"Fair enough..." he sighed as he secured the tray in one servo and used the other to take the cube. He'd thank his friend in time, but for now there was just too much to be done, enough that he completely forgot he'd need a second limb to open the door until he realized both were now occupied.

Thankfully Optimus showed him mercy, helpfully stepping in to enter the code and command the doors to open. "Here, allow me to get the door." he offered before doing so and stepping aside. Megatron smiled himself at the gesture, grateful to have such reliable friends when he needed them most. Nodding in acknowledgement, he entered the medical bay and allowed his optics to adjust to the dimmer light as the doors sealed shut behind him, finding that little had changed in his brief absence. You were still comfortably seated on the nest of blankets he'd arranged on the padded berth in the corner of the room, your tiny form looking exhausted but not quite ready to sleep as you raised your head in response to his entrance. He caught a hint of a smile through the darkness.

"Are they sleeping?" he asked quietly as he approached, unable to completely subdue the sounds of his footsteps despite all of his efforts. 

"Sort of, he keeps slipping in and out of consciousness." you answered as you adjusted the swaddled bitlet in your arms, earning a tiny coo in the process. Megatron swiftly deposited his cube on a nearby table when you weren't looking, intending to eat later but wanting his full attention on you for the moment. Granted, his attention hadn't really left you at all in the past few hours, but that seemed fitting for a new sire performing his many duties. You caught the tray in his servo when he came to the edge of the bed, and perked up at the smell of something delicious. "Is that for me?"

"Alex insisted on preparing something fresh once I mentioned you were hungry. I'm not sure what he made, but I believe it's to your specifications." Megatron explained, trying not to chuckle at how Dorothy's husband had jumped into action the second he'd requested nourishment on your behalf. It had taken some time to prepare, but he'd trusted the Maltos to have a much better idea of what a human needed to recover from labor, even if he'd assured them you'd only asked for a snack so no one had to trouble themself. Alex hadn't even been bothered by the fact that it was the dead of night, and judging by your reaction, his cooking skills hadn't been at all diminished by a lack of sleep.

"Oh wow, he really went all out." you marveled as you beheld the impressive spread, uncertain how you'd finish it all. The sparkling in your arms reacted to the scent of food with a sleepy but curious trill, scarlet optics cracking open as he yawned and nommed on the edge of his blankets without a care in the world. Hunger and affection stirred within your stomach and heart, leaving you briefly unsure of how to proceed.

"I can bring over the bassinet, to free up your hands." Megatron offered quickly, setting the tray down a short distance from you before he turned to search for the human sized infant carrier that Dorothy had gifted the both of you. Before he could spot it amongst the piles of supplies, you shifted in your nest and spoke up to get his attention.

"Actually, do you want to hold him?"

The question, innocent as it may have been, dropped an icy chunk of fear into his stomach. Words briefly failed him as he got a hold of himself before turning around. 

"Should I?" he asked with open hesitation, looking to the sparkling and feeling a fresh burst of terror at the prospect. Though he'd been there when your little one was born, allowing you to hold his servo as he cradled you from behind and coached you through it, he hadn't yet had any more physical contact with the newborn than a brush of his digits against their tiny frame. Even that had felt wrong, as if he'd taken an unacceptable risk for his own selfish gain.

You smiled and carefully sat up, angling the bitlet so his sire had a better view. Megatron calmed a little at the confidence in your voice, the affection he had for both of you building as you reminded him of a simple fact. "I think so, he's your son, after all."

His son. That certainly was going to take a while to get used to, along with the explosive mix of emotions his newfound parenthood was stirring up every time he confronted his new reality. Returning to the berth, he pulled up a chair and sat down, looking down at the sparkling in your arms and feeling a fresh lurch of fear. His long and storied history aside, the little one was simply miniscule compared to him, and despite his natural dexterity and ease handling your own fragile form, he was worried that taking them into his grasp could be dangerous. "That is true, but are you... sure it's safe?"

"He'll be safer with you than anywhere else. Here, let me show you." you offered, encouraging him to hold out his cupped servos. As hungry as you were, you didn't rush him when he did as you asked with considerable hesitation. A brief flinch of discomfort across your face compelled him to move more confidently for your sake, his servos moving close enough to save you from any additional discomfort as you lifted the sparkling to hand him over. The bitlet cooed in confusion as he was laid down in his sire's servos, and though the sound and the weight of the tiny being sent a wave of emotion over Megatron he remained still as a statue for your instructions. "Just keep him here, like this. What's most important is supporting his helm."

Megatron nodded, but was otherwise motionless as you sat back against your pillows, the edges of his vision fading as everything beyond the sparkling briefly slipped away. The little one didn't seem at all perturbed by the move, merely curious as he blinked upwards at the massive figure looking down on him before yawning and deciding he was too sleepy to care. Bringing tiny servos to his chubby cheeks, they rubbed their bleary optics before settling back down to snooze, swaddled blankets rising and falling from their peaceful ventilations. The sight nearly sent his spark into a supernova, and he brought the tiny being to his chassis to keep them warm and protected. Pure adoration was tinted by guilt as he looked between the resting sparkling and you contentedly enjoying your meal.

After all the horrors he'd brought to Earth, all the harm he'd caused this world, it had given him you, and by extension, this little being the two of you had made together. It was an honor he could never deserve, and yet, here he was. Perhaps fate had thought fit to offer him a chance to add something to the world for a change.

He brought the little one closer to his helm, his optics stinging with tears he refused to shed as he took his first real look at his son. As hard as it was to believe he'd grow into a properly sized Cybertronian, the new sire had no trouble identifying his own features, from the crimson optics that were currently closed in rest to the shiny silver of his soft mesh. Your own features were mixed in as well, their Cybertronian equivalents expressing themselves beautifully. 

"I'll eat as fast I can, then I can take him back." you said suddenly, breaking him out of the stupor. 

"Take your time, love." he requested gently, smiling down just as the newborn worked a thumb into his mouth to suckle. All hunger and exhaustion completely forgotten, Megatron settled more comfortably in his chair, basking in the moment and forgetting all about the world beyond. His words were soft yet certain when he spoke next. "I have him, and I have you."

[ashensgrotto]

Hey I was reading your yandere Azul fanfic for like the 50th time and I had this idea for a request:

Can you do the other overblot boys in similar situations?

Also when are we going to have Azul's redemption arc when we get trapped in Scariba?

Have a lovely day/night/morning/afternoon

Why, greetings my dear anon! I’m happy that you enjoyed the ‘Poor Unfortunate Souls’ to read it that many times - and I apologized that I haven’t been able to get started on the Scarbia segment yet (between that and Raison D’être plus work & other stories… and GloMas, I really need to get my priorities straight seriously -_-). However, I do intend on working on it as soon as I can so I can get it out sometime this month or in December - I mean, I think that would be the most logical since that one takes place during holiday break, right?

Now, for your request - I hope head cannons are alright for the time being. I’ll try to come back to them and do short stories for each of them that follows the same concept design as “Am I Feeling Love?” - which is the first installment of the Yandere!Azul series. I'm also going to divide this into two parts - about halfway through I realized I hadn't posted anything in a while and thus, I want to make it up to all of you for not writing or posting anything for some time.

Part 1 (Here) will feature Riddle Rosehearts, Leona Kingscholar, and Jamil Viper

Part 2 (Here) will feature Vil Schoenheit, Idia Shroud, and Malleus Draconia

***

Riddle Rosehearts:

Yandere Riddle is more of the controlling type - that much is certain. While during his youth, he came across a story about ‘soulmates’ - and the idea of someone made for him took root like a weed in the rose garden. Although his mother ordered for him to dismiss the idea as nothing but a fairytale, Riddle could not push the idea away and it slowly became a source of comfort and drive - if he could stand out both in academics and athletics, surely his soulmate would recognize him as their other half. (There really was no way for him to search for his other half while trapped under his mother’s unwavering gaze, especially after the tart incident.) 

When he saw you in the mirror chamber for the first time many years later, he was awestruck by your grace and beauty, reminding him of how the queen of heart once was long ago… the problem was your impeccable timing. You had the worst sense of direction as well as time - quite literally to the point that he had to give you several (and I mean like five to ten) different watches to have on your person so you wouldn’t run late for your scheduled tea time and after school lessons with him (which he made a priority to keep an eye on your movements, especially with the way you hang around the ADuo).

He likes that you have a favorite tea flavor, but hates that you drink it. All. The. Time. (“There are other teas, you know?” he tells you softly, trying to reign in his urge to yell at you for drinking your tea when you should be drinking the green tea with honey that is required following a lesson with him.)

He recognizes you for your hard work - often watching you from the shadows when time permits as you paint the roses red, care for the hedgehogs, feed the flamingos in that pink attire he provided for you, and assist with the dorm’s random tea party celebrations. Riddle also enjoys your conversations - even though he would like it better if you opened your mouth and stopped speaking so quietly (“Look up, speak nicely. AND DON’T TWIDDLE YOUR FINGERS! Turn out your toes, curtsy, open your mouth a little wider and always say, ‘Yes, Housewarden Riddle.’" He’s constantly reminding you.)

The one thing he can not stand though: your friendship with Duece and Ace and the furball menace. He has added a new rule to the roster: ‘Rule #687: (Y/N) is to always be supervised by either Trey Clover or Cater Diamond when not in the presence of the housewarden.’ (It’s for your wellbeing, after all. Trey and Cater are much more reliable than those two annoying freshmen and fire-breathing direbeast.)

However, his real breaking point is when you side with Ace and Duece following the ‘collaring’. He wouldn’t have dreamed in a million years that you would’ve sided with them over him. He was only trying to look out for your best interests… the best interests of the dorm… He was supposed to be the one…

Leona Kingscholar:

Yandere Leona is more of the… dependent type. During his youth, one lazy afternoon, his older brother was talking to him about how he read in his studies about a certain smell that would allow him to know if his soulmate was nearby. Leona had at first shrugged it off, not really caring - after all, he wasn’t going to be king… why should he worry about finding the right one? He didn’t need annoying little brats running circles around him like his nephew did already… what a pain.

That changed the moment you entered the mirror chamber. Your scent wafted through the air and tickled Leona’s nose like a call of a hornbill to its mate. Leona could feel a need rising within him - a sudden need to protect and lay claim to you as his. And when the mirror turned you away, Ruggie was surprised when he stepped forward, offering a place to stay in Savanclaw.

It was no surprise to anyone that Leona decided to make you his personal gopher (although he knew that he couldn’t rely on you 24/7 as you weren’t allowed to attend the school - not that he cared much anyway for classes). During practice, you would bring water and snacks - the housewarden always scruffing the top of your head and messing your hair up, offering a cheeky grin that no one had seen before. In the dorm, you would sit with him and look over his homework and studies - Ruggie nearby to help you understand what was being taught, considering that this was something far beyond your understanding - especially since you had no magic ability either.

Speaking of which, Ruggie was the only other person - besides Leona - that was allowed to get close to you. Any other student that attempted to get within a foot of you would suffer under Leona’s frightening stare before choking on ‘King’s Roar’ until they begged for mercy when you weren’t around.

When the spelldrive tournament came up - and you unknowingly found out about the plan to hurt another student - you confronted Leona about it. Leona tried to play innocent - pretending not to know what you were talking about, Ruggie assisting with the typically ‘innocent until guilty’ look that he often gave you.

His last straw was when you and Jack warned the others of Savanaclaw's plan - the housewarden of Heartslabyul and his students effectively coming to your aid. Leona thought he could trust you… that you would respect him and love him as the king he was supposed to be…

Jamil Viper

Jamil is your typical stalker type - wanting to know about your every move, it’s ingrained in him after all. During his youth, he - along with the other servants of the Al-Asim home - would watch over the young masters as they grew up, one eye always on the lookout for danger that could befall the family. Kalim - as sweet and carefree as he was - would often spend time in Jamil’s presence, chewing his ear off with stories and such, Jamil often ignoring what he said or taking everything with a grain of salt. However - the story of the Scalding Sands princess and the thief never completely left his mind. Legends stated that the two were fated to be together - and the land had been prosperous during their reign. Jamil would often turn the story over in his mind a handful of times, but tsk at the idea of soulmates. It was only a fairy tale… right?

That changed the moment he saw you in the mirror chamber - your eyes wide by everything that was different and strange to you. If Jamil was honest, he thought back to the story of the desert princess and the thief right then and there - he imagined himself as the thief and you as the princess, and the longing that filled him had to be the same as it was for the thief when he had seen the princess’ beauty for the first time. It was easy to persuade Kalim to let you stay in Scarabia, using ‘Snake Whisper’ to charm him into allowing the headmaster for you to stay. Once within the safe confines of the dorm, Jamil offered for you to assist him with taking care of Kalim (“Trust me, my little desert flower,” he tells you, “things aren’t always as they seem. You will get what’s coming to you.”)

Speaking of which - like Azul’s pet name of ‘Angelfish,’ Jamil refers to you as ‘Desert Flower.’ When you asked why that was, Jamil would cough and say something about how you reminded him of the flowers back in the Scalding Sands - particularly the Desert Hyacinth (which is a parasitic plant, oddly enough).

Regardless, Jamil enjoys spending time with you - when not chasing Kalim around. In the evenings, when the dorm is asleep, he finds the evenings quite relaxing in your presence; playing Mancala on the carpeted flooring after having his feet rubbed in oil to alleviate the tension and pain from all the hard work he did. When he asks if there’s anything he can do for you in return, you simply smile and shake your head, explaining how you’re thankful for his kindness and generosity for keeping you company in the late evenings when you both know he should be getting rest.

However, as the holiday season approaches and the rest of the school heads home for the holidays, Jamil notices your disappearance one night - making him frantic to know where you had disappeared to. That fear turns into seething rage when you return with an octopus and two eels in tow - Jamil demanding to know what the meaning of this is. Out of the goodness of your heart, you explain that you sought help for him and Kalim - especially with Kalim’s strange mood swings making you more and more nervous with each passing day. The presence of the scheming octomer and his twin pals makes Jamil more on edge than ever - watching from the shadows as you and Kalim turn to your new allies. It would seem… desperate times call for desperate measures.

The look on your face when it’s revealed that he was the one behind the changes in Kalim’s behavior was enough to shatter Jamil’s heart into a thousand pieces - like a glass lamp crushed under the weight of stone. The fear… the anger… the resentment towards Kalim has become centerfold - but Jamil could never hate you… his little desert flower. If only he was headwarden… if he was in charge… none of this would have happened… it was all Kalim’s fault, after all…

[anfie-in-the-box]

X-tra Dark Cream third anniversary

Notes

I never mentioned it, never even payed it any attention, but the universe decided to remind me that one of my beloved works turns three on the twenty third of December. I don't celebrate any holidays at all, but sometimes I like to use them as a deadline that's not really strict and write something for my followers, and this time especially for @orange-dreamzer. Hope you enjoy!

。。。

It's fun to decorate the coffee shop for some local festivities, especially with a good company. There's five of them — Nightmare, Killer, Dream, Cross, and Ccino himself. They work faster together, even with the cats getting in the way and all of Ccino's helpers having no clue where to put what. He ends up directing them more than actually decorating, but he doesn't mind; it's new, but not a bad kind of new. He used to be the one helping… But the past is in the past. He has a family now — something he'd never dreamed of, not since his hopeless, dangerous love for still corrupted Nightmare bloomed. That's also in the past. Ccino's better now. All of them are. 

“Cross, I need you to put these lanterns above the door outside and a few inside as well. Do you mind me using blue magic on you?” Ccino says, getting the lanterns from yet another box. When Cross takes the lanterns and nods in confirmation, Ccino closes his sockets for a second, deeply breathes in and out, and then pulls. It's been a while since he had to use blue magic. Cross’ soul feels weird, part-human and part… something else, something more than soul traits, something that allows Cross to alter reality. Ccino doesn't understand that power, not even grasping the basics, but he thinks that's okay. 

While lifting Cross higher, Ccino calls, “Dream, please place the origami I prepared on the tables. Be careful not to wrinkle them, alright?”

Dream asks anxiously from behind, “Are you sure I should be doing this? I'm not used to handling delicate things…” 

Ccino can't help but soften. The curse has done a lot of harm to both twins, and it's crucial to remember that they don't realise just how loveable and reliable they are. If only they learned to love and trust themselves… But Ccino will support his family all the way. So he smiles, even though Dream can't see it — he can feel it, though, — and says with all the warmth and attentiveness in the world, “I have every confidence in you, Dream. Just try and put a few in their places, and then, if it doesn't work, I'll ask Nightmare. Okay?”

Dream hums an insecure “Okay,” and there's that. Ccino smiles and redirects Cross closer to the middle of the room. 

“There are hooks everywhere,” Cross notices. “Are they for the lanterns?” 

Am I doing this right? He doesn't ask, but Ccino understands nonetheless. He replies, “Well, yes. And for Christmas lights and tinsel, for example. All sorts of decorations.”

“How'd you do all this before?” Nightmare asks curiously. “Without someone to use magic on to put everything on the ceiling? I know you love this place, both Dream and I can feel it. But how?”

“I have a ladder,” Ccino admits. “But it's much easier and safer to use magic now that you're all here. Cats don't get in the way at all. Do they, Cross?” 

“They certainly can try,” Cross laughs. “Your blue magic is so gentle, you know? I was trained to be precise and effective, as a Royal Guard. To feel how different it can be… It's eye-opening.”

“Thanks for trusting me,” Ccino says. Dream adds from behind, “Thank you for your care.”

“Hey! Can someone come see this?” Killer calls suddenly from behind the counter; some time ago, he asked several questions about the festivities and hid with his favourite knife. 

“What have you got?” Nightmare responds, and then Ccino replies at the exact same moment, “A few more lanterns!” They don't apologise for interrupting each other, laughing instead. Barely a few seconds later Ccino hears Nightmare gasp in awe. 

“Didn't you see what I was doing? It's just a look over my shoulder, and you'd see it!”

Yeah, Nightmare and Killer are both behind the counter, but while Nightmare uses his impeccable penmanship to write well wishes on sticky notes and put them on the cups, Killer has promised a surprise.

“Well,” Nightmare replies in a patient tone, “You asked for privacy, so I gave that to you. Besides, I have my own task to do.”

Killer makes a noise in half-embarrassment half-gratitude. “It's ready. Now you can see.” 

Cross calls, “Hey Ccino, all done.” He puts him on the floor instantly, though carefully as usual, and together with Dream they all go to see what Killer has for them. 

It's wooden figures of different animals, so small they'd fit in the palm, yet finely detailed, so beautiful it takes Ccino's breath away. “How long have you been working on these?..” he whispers, afraid to ruin the moment — or the miniature figures. Killer shrugs and waves his hand, “Since you explained to us how this whole festivities thing works.”

Ccino's eye-sockets begin watering. He feels… happy. So very happy, and so very loved. He hugs Killer, murmuring, “Thank you.” 

“I didn't know you could carve,” Nightmare admits.

Petting Ccino's head, Killer explains, “Didn't really come up. It's a hobby for the times my LV acts up. Turned out to be useful now.” 

“I'm so proud and so grateful. This is amazing. You are amazing, Killer!”

“I agree with Ccino. Very clever,” Nightmare adds, just a little bit stiffly, and for once Ccino doesn't hear any guilt in his voice. Only serenity and love.

“So we did it, right?” Dream asks. “How about a small celebration?”

“Excellent suggestion!” Ccino exclaims, reluctantly letting Killer go. “You go sit, I'll handle the rest!” 

。。。

“Tea? Coffee? Or a dance?” Ccino offers half-jokingly. 

“Can I have more than one option?” Killer perks. Ccino nods seriously, “I don't see why not.” His hands tremble slightly, and he feels the heat of extra magic under his cheek bones. What's this impossible skeleton up to this time? 

“Well then, I'd like to order a dance and a cup of my favourite herbal tea right after.”

Oh. Ccino's never danced in his life; maybe as a kid, but he barely remembers his childhood, so there's that. There's also not that much space between tables and chairs. Yet he can't refuse, and takes Killer's hand, lowering another on Killer's shoulder as if they are waltzing. He quickly realises they're doing exactly that, just in one place, not moving around. 

“Shall we also give it a try?” Cross suggests. 

Dream hesitates, “But Nightmare would be left alone…” 

“That's not true,” Nightmare interrupts. “I'm still here with you, all of you, peaceful and content for once.” 

Ccino can't help but agree. And then Cross and Dream join Killer and him, waltzing between a different set of tables. 

Tomorrow's festivities have nothing on this lovely, so very lovely night. 

。。。

Credits

Ccino © black-nyanko

Nightmare and Dream © jokublog

Shattered Dream © galacii-gallery

Cross © jakei95

Killer © rahafwabas

Dark Cream © @zu-is-here

X-tra Dark Cream © me (anfie / anfie-in-the-box)

。。。

Notes

Is this canon in the actual Turns, twists, and paradoxes? Is the curse finally lifted? Is Fluffynightkiller a thing already? So many questions, so little answers!.. I would love to hear your thoughts.

Also, this piece started from Ccino's phrase "Tea? Coffee? Or a dance?" and then grew both backwards and forwards. In Russian it's "Чай? Кофе? Потанцуем?", which my relatives and I use rather often.

[kentosbabes]

Hi, so I literally just spam liked/rb a bunch of your posts - nanami has me in a chokehold I swear - could you write a little tidbit about nanami treating his s/o after they start a new job?

I just know he'd do princess treatment or smthn really special and it just makes me swoon a bit 💓 anyway, I hope youre having a good week so far!

Thank you!!!! You’re too kind <3333

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

(I’m delusional affff so this is going to be super self indulgent icl)

Nanami would be really supportive of your new job. Understanding that this is a new chapter in your career and he would offer his unwavering support and encouragement to you.

He would listen attentively to your experiences and challenges at your workplace, allowing you to have a safe environment to share your thoughts about dickhead managers and weirdo employees.

Nanami would want to celebrate you, every single milestone- big and small he would want to be your biggest cheerleader. Whether it's a new project you completed or a promotion he would surprise you with gestures like bringing you your favourite snacks or flowers to celebrate your accomplishments.

He would respect your work-life balance, understanding that you need time to decompress after a long day. Nanami would suggest activities you guys could do together like going for walks, watching shitty romcoms or cooking together. He would be super understanding if you can’t hang out as much because of work.

EMOTIONAL SUPPORT. Nanami would be there for you. Offering words of encouragement and advice after a horrible day, he would be a reliable source of comfort and reassurance.

He would surprise you with small gestures of kindness, leaving you a sweet note in your lunchbox he made for you, ordering you your favourite food when you are both too tired to cook or sending silly updates about his day of uplifting messages and words of affirmation to make you smile.

Nanami would definitely try his hardest to learn more about your work. Even if he doesn’t understand a single thing about anything you are talking about, he would actively listen- asking the right questions and making sure you feel heard. He would genuinely engage in conversations about your work to show his sport and willingness to learn.

Since you both live together, he would understand that you would have additional responsibilities and commitments due to your new job. He would take on the bulk of the household chores, errands, and other responsibilities to ease her workload. This is simply because he works part time from home and office.

Nanami and you both value quality time and make it a priority to have regular date nights. Whether it's going out for a fancy dinner or having a date night at home, he cherishes the uninterrupted time spent together.

You both have a secret spot in a nearby park where they go for picnics. Nanami could spend hours there with you, enjoying each other's company and the beauty of nature.

After a long day after work, you guys love to cuddle up on the couch together, sharing a cosy blanket and watching your favourite movies.

[kick-a-long]

i feel crazy. i think Biden might have done a dark Biden that no one has noticed. i'm playing around with it as a conspiracy theory, but it's not something that's ever going to be proven one way or the other.

it's very weird for biden, an old guy who has been in american politics forever/lived through the iranian hostage crisis, and harris, married to a jew and a lawyer with experience with criminals and victims, both democrates, to not support Israel. it's pretty much a given if you know the situation and voter opinion among hard core christians, that all american politicians support israel. even if you want to say, "no, israel is the aggressor and biden was ashamed to support them." in an election year? against attention whore, liar and lower than mud, trump? you think he would alienate much more reliable older and more conservative dem voters who have been adults during the trump and obama years (a much more conservative time) and who are much more supportive of israel regardless of facts? you trust politicians to do the moral thing even if it ends up with trump reelected? that's the definition of letting the devil win for a pyrrhic victory.

so why were they so weakly supportive on it, especially considering that the far left wasn't really a place to pick up votes? this sounds crazy but did biden intentionally give lukewarm support for israel because 1. it's pretty hard for an anti-authority movement to keep rolling when it gets support from the authorities, taking the air out of the anti israel protests. 2. as a way to show that israel is more independent than the rumors. that israel is a middle eastern country first and an american ally/lapdog a far second. 3. that even without an american administration's media support or direction, israel can handle it's own war tactically and offensively.

the pagers thing was a level of flashy and effective that's very rare in war. that kind of move usually only works once. it takes a huge amount of leg work and burns contacts but isn't as realistically effective as just doing a normal war. the pager bombs were a psychological attack as well. first it's impressive, clever and intimidating to the right americans and MENA muslims. it's pretty hard to go back to work as a terrorist when you are hearing exaggerated or real stories about dudes like you losing their dick and balls, especially as a macho man who wants to die for the cause not loose his balls for it. it's even harder to convince you're wife and parents that they are risking grandkids. idk if that's a cultural thing that carries over but i know for a lot of parent, the kid is an adult and you could care less if they live or die (especially if you are cool with martyrs) but you need grandkids like crack.

anyway. israel is taking hezbollah out like it's been planning the war for ten years. it's quite the message to send lebanon, who hates hezbollah and also hates israel, and american muslims, who probably hate hezbollah much more than israel even if they have been taught to hate israel, that israel is maybe, just might be, a potential liberating force from iran and can put together slick war shit in under a year. that americans are "skeptical" of israel. it's not like the dems were going to bleed jewish support after trump has been an open antisemite and supported literal neo-nazis CONSTANTLY.

maybe the surprise was that hamas was even involved since the IDF assumed hezbollah was the one's who were going to attack on oct 7? there's no way hamas's attack wasn't a surprise. the loses were too high putting it mildly, and terrorist attacks always make israel unpopular.

idk. maybe I'm coping because i don't love how wishy washy about antisemitism harris has been. it makes voting for her a bitter responsibility rather than a celebration of voting for hopefully the first female president. i also have a bias because i like to think that biden is a tactical genius. i like to think that harris is also on that level of tactical, given her history i wouldn't be surprised. I've known lawyers like that. smart about logic but also the tactics you need to move up.

well, if wishes were fishes... it would be pretty cool if it were all a thought out plan. real A team. time will tell if they get elected and there's peace (or peace adjacent) in the middle east. i don't think anyone will ever know if biden planned or nudged or just wanted to appeal to the hip younger generation.

I'm going to head cannon it as my personal conspiracy theory in any case if Harris does get elected and if a few MENA countries suddenly don't hate Israel as much. It's all so confusing and there's so little info i know about arab and/or Lebanese/Syrian/Yemeni/Iranian culture. especially what those terrorist orgs are actually like internally and what the citizens of those countries really feel about them. i know some history but that doesn't tell you what they think is funny or rude, ya know? whatever.

vote harris 2024.

[strayflowersstarsandlove]

𝙴𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚆𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚞𝚝 - a Han Jisung short au!fanfic

PART 9

💫PART 10💫

2 weeks go by at the speed of light. You're barely getting used to share your life with Han, sharing your meals and your bathroom and your laughs and your heart with him, trying to numb out the ache residing in you, you're barely catching up to that when the day Felix has his flight to Vientiane arrives, pulling the rug out from the beneath your feet.

The guys are emotional, needless to say. The tight knit group huddled together at the gate, virtually occupying the entire area just the 8 of them. You and Han had revealed your relationship to all of your friends a few days earlier, the occasion turned into a farewell to Felix and a celebration for your young love all at once, the sappy tears wetting everyone's faces. Not as much as today though. Even Minho struggles to hold back the tears, though he jokes it's just sweat coming out of his tear ducts.

"United Airlines flight 404357 to Vientiane is now open. Passangers can proceed to security checks at gate 43".  The loud speakers boom and echo through the walls and just like the final beeping of a ticking bomb, it unravels a chain reaction where everone starts sobbing one after the other, much to Felix's already heavy heart, "that's me, guys", he says gingerly.

Hyunjin lurches himself at him, almost tackling him in his embrace, "Yongbokah don't forget about me yeah? Don't be a stranger, please don't", he says quietly, his voice broken as Felix holds him the best he can considering the sizable height difference, "I would never, man, I would never". They pat each other's back a few times and just when you think Hyunjin has finally let go of him, he wails and cries out and pulls Felix right back into his arms.

You break at that. The emotions running through each and everyone of you are so strong that seeing them all so clearly affected makes you want to sink into the ground. You can't help but wonder if you not corresponding Felix's feelings had catalyzed his decision to pursue his volunteer work.

Sure, he was always going to be doing that sometimes in the near future, but suddenly that future had become your very present. You wonder if you had just been completely unaware, blinded by you suppressed feelings for Han to notice that your best friend was slipping away right from your fingertips.

Changbin puts on the toughest act he can, tries to remain stoic and reliable for the very teary very emotional Jeongin who hides behind his back. Except he bursts into tears the second Felix embraces him, he tries his best to smile through the pain, repeatedly patting his younger friend back while also letting him squeeze his arm muscles for one last time, "thank you Yongbokah, never thought I'd say this but thank you for all the squeezes and the cookies and your warm smiles, I can't wait to experience them all again and then whine about it".

Everyone erupts into light, half choked giggles, a little breather in between the heartfelt goodbyes being exchanged. Felix has to then pry Jeongin away from his older friends arms to give him a proper hug, he even plops a little kiss to his temple which is uncharacteristically welcomed, and returned, even: "don't tell my girlfriend I did that", the younger one he manages, making everyone stifle their laughs.

"Oh I will Innie, first thing I do once I land will be calling her up and tell her all about it", Felix jokes, trying to make light of the situation despite his own eyes betraying just how meaningful it was for him to have Jeongin being so openly affectionate.

The next slightly reticent one is Seungmin, who blinks away tear after tear as he lets Felix hug him with full force, "I'm going to miss you, man. I didn't get tell you nearly enough but I do care about you, a lot", he says quietly, a little remorsefullness in his voice, "it's okay, I always knew you did Mong Mong, I'm going to miss you too".

Minho smiles awkwardly and tries to comfort his friends up until the moment it is his turn to say goodbye, he sniffles very very quietly, trying not to let everyone know he's been secretly crying a lot more than he lets on, and when Felix hugs him he picks him up from the ground and squeezes him tightly, "Yongbok you silly little thing, why do you have to go and  break my heart like this uh? ", he says only half jokingly, his voice ultimately breaking on his last syllables.

"I'm sorry, will you forgive me if I promise to feed in your name all the stray cats that I'll meet?", Felix rebukes laughing, and Minho shakes his head, smiling softly at him, "you are already forgiven. Feed yourself, a lot. And be good, alright?", he adds, patting his friend's head.

Chan is on a other level of heartbreak. Chan looks like he is physically in pain. Him and Felix hug the longest so far, they barely speak a word to one another, though something tells you they had a very long and deep talk prior to today. Their embrace looks like the safest, warmest little home created among themselves, it lingers as they rub each other's backs and hold each other's hands briefly, complicit, silent words being exchanged through their eyes only.

You look down at your feet, your heart sunken so deep down your stomach you're not sure you can witness anymore goodbyes for the rest of your life. One more, you think, anticipating Felix is going to go to Han next but he hugs you.

And there's no amount of time or self psyching into not crumbling into tiny pieces that could have ever prepared you for the wave of utter yearning that crushes you the second you're being engulfed into your best friends' arms, one last time, for a very long time. River like tears spilling from your eyes, you hug him so tight, cry so loud the guys around you shield your fragile frame from nosy passangers looking in on the scene.

Felix lets you cry all of your tears, never minding the wet patch forming on his shirt, he rubs your back soothingly and rests his chin on your shoulder, "I love you, I'll miss you so much, please be happy, please be so happy you forget what sadness feels like. Hannie's got you, the guys got you, you are so loved y/n, so loved", he reassures you quietly, a few of his own tears falling down your back.

"I love you Lix", is all you can manage in broken sobs, your voice dying in your throat before it ever has the chance to come out. It's like your brain goes blank, even if there are a million things you want to say to him, they all vanish in the moment, and all you're left with is this immense feeling of pure, ephimereal affection for him.

Felix carefully peels himself off of you and caresses your cheek, brushing away a few tears in the process, "time zones suck but I'll always be just one phone call away okay? You can reach out to me anytime, beasties get no time limitations, you get the no interruptions privileges, you call me and I'll pick up, no matter the weird hour", he asserts reassuringly, smiling kindly at you, to which you can only feebly smile back too, as you nod.

Han doesn't wait for Felix to come to him, he pulls him to his chest and cradles his head like he would with a baby, crying all the while, "I love you, man, I love you so fucking much it hurts, I'm so sorry for everything", "I love you too, jagi", Felix hugs him warmly, smiling lightly as he rubs Han's back.

"You are forgiven for anything you think you need forgiveness for, you are the light of this group, one of the brightest, kindest souls I've ever met, but don't forget to save some of that light for yourself too, and for her", he says softly, pointing at you as he lets go of Han who nods firmly, pulling you onto his side, "you're holding my world right now, please take care of her", Felix adds, a little more somber, "I solemnly promise you I will, I lost her once, I'm never letting that happen ever again. I swear to you, I swear on your beautiful heart too".

You take refuge into Han's chest and arms as the 8 of you watch Felix's plane soar to the sky, tears stricken faces and tender gazes as you all silently wish him the very best. It's bittersweet, knowing you had to let him go in order fro him to be truly happy, the same way he had to do the same for you.

"Am I selfish for thinking it's unfair I could never have both you and him close to my heart in different ways but at the same time? Like... I had Felix close, but you so far away, metaphorically speaking. And now I have you here, physically here, very much close to my heart, and Felix gone, physically 2 time zones away from me, isn't it tragically funny?", you ramble, knitting your eyebrows together as you air out your thoughts.

Han chuckles and kisses your cheek," it is, my love. But I don't think it's selfish, I think it's human nature. I guess sometimes we're just blind to the things we have, and only realise how valuable they are when they're already gone. But Felix isn't going to be gone forever, so keep that in mind, your heart will be full again. In the mean time I promised him I was going to make you happy no matter what, and I have every intention to".

The familiar fuzziness spreads in your chest, you reach up to him and kiss him, placing your hand on his chest, his hearbeat thrumming against your palm, "my heart is full, wide open for you", you murmur, resting your head on his chest, closing your eyes to the night.

🥀FIN🥀