#just some casual jealous!victor

[the-sun-and-the-sea]

Odesta Week Day 3: Free Space

If you had told Johanna three years ago that she would be sprawled out on Finnick Odair’s couch in the middle of the day, she would have laughed in your face. 

She never gave Finnick much thought before she came to the Capitol herself. To her, he’d just been another perfect Capitol face, living it up on the television while her own people worked and starved and died. It didn’t even matter that he was from the districts too, because by that point, she was pretty convinced he was a Capitol citizen in all but name. 

Johanna may be stubborn sometimes, but she’s not an idiot. She can admit that she was wrong about Finnick. 

They’re in his apartment, languishing in the midday boredom, because Finnick’s next few weeks are about to get very busy. In his words, all he wants to do is rot on the couch. Which is fine with Johanna, because at least they’re not being accosted by screeching Capitol teenagers who want a picture or an autograph. 

“How much longer until you’re supposed to be in prep?” she asks, nudging his leg with her ankle. 

He leans back so his head rests against the couch. “Don’t remind me.”

As much as Finnick likes to pretend this stuff doesn’t bother him, even Johanna can tell it’s harder this year than it’s ever been before. “You know, even Haymitch is worried about you.”

“Hypocrite,” says Finnick, but there’s no venom behind it. He leans forward again, his body slumping over, eyes fixed at his knees. “I screwed up.”

“What else is new?”

“I’m serious, Johanna,” he says, voice so soft she has to strain to hear. He doesn’t look up at her. “I think I might love her.”

Her heart sinks. Annie Cresta, fellow victor and Finnick’s not-so-secret girlfriend. He’s done a good job keeping her away from the Capitol, but the victors all know that Finnick has a girl back home. It’s different when it’s a casual thing, but love? Well, when you’re a victor, that’s about the stupidest thing you can do. 

Johanna snorts. “Why would you do that?”

Finnick looks up at her now, eyes misty. “It’s not like I meant to! I didn’t even notice it was happening, until one day we were out on the boat and she said we should get a cat and I just…realized.”

“Great story,” she says dryly. “I’m sure the president will love to hear it.”

Finnick groans. “The worst part is, I don’t even regret it. I like being with her.”

“You’re not going to be with her much longer if you don’t control yourself,” Johanna says, and his eyes go downcast again. “It’s not worth it, Finnick.”

Then he smiles, like he’s seeing all of the good in this world and none of the bad. “Yes, it is.”

***

So she doesn’t get it. Sue her. 

Keeping people around—even worse, loving them—only ends in more pain. She doesn’t know why Finnick would do it willingly.

Johanna doesn’t even meet Annie Cresta until they’re neighbors in the Capitol detention center, sharing a wall and a conveniently placed air vent that lets some sound through. 

“Finnick talked a lot about you,” Annie says conversationally. Her voice is hoarse from all the screaming, but it doesn’t sound like anything that happened in the past few days has bothered her. For someone known for being a basket case, she’s good at turning that part of her brain off. 

Johanna huffs a laugh. “Jealous?”

“Not at all,” she replies, and with Annie it sounds genuine. “He said you were his best friend. Are his best friend.”

“Best friend,” Johanna echoes. The phrase feels foreign on her lips. She can’t remember the last time she had a best friend. And even with their years in the Capitol together, she didn’t know Finnick thought of them that way. “He didn’t talk about you much.”

She can envision Annie’s shrug, even if they can’t see each other. “That’s fine. He was compartmentalizing. I’m glad he had you, though. And that you had him.”

“We’re not even friends,” says Johanna. 

“We’re both friends with Finnick,” Annie replies. “That can make us friends, too. If you want.”

Having friends isn’t much smarter than falling in love, but if Annie’s words are anything to go by, Johanna’s been doing that this whole time. “Okay.”

Time is meaningless these days because the lights never turn off and they get meals at irregular intervals, if they get them at all. Johanna’s begun to measure the passage of time by the growth of her fingernails or the hair on her legs until she’s needed for propaganda videos and the prep team remakes her. Then she starts over from scratch. 

“What did you and him do in Four?” Johanna asks one day, although it may actually be night. 

Annie takes a second to respond. “We liked to go out on the boat. Far enough out that we could barely see the shore. Have you ever seen the ocean?”

“Not really.”

“Well, it’s beautiful,” Annie continues. “And endless. Not even the Capitol can control that much water. Sometimes we’d go out there and just say all the things we could never say back home.”

Johanna huffs a laugh. Her lungs burn as she talks. “Why didn’t you ever just sail away?”

“Why didn’t you ever run off into the woods until you passed the border?” 

Fair enough. “Because they would have caught me.”

“Well, here we are,” Annie says, caustic and surprisingly aware. “It could be worse. At least Finnick’s not here.”

That’s true. Finnick’s safe in District Thirteen. Probably not happy, but he’s not a pile of bones in the ground. “If he were here, he’d probably try to sing for us. You know, to cheer us up.”

“Please,” Annie sputters, and for a second Johanna can’t tell if she’s crying or laughing. “Don’t make me think about Finnick singing.”

Johanna muffles a laugh with her hand. 

She gets it now. 

[arokel]

To the Victor

Rating: G Pairing: Don/Bobby, Bobby/OMC Tags: Pre-relationship, pining, jealous don, awkward flirting Notes: inspired by @savvylittlecoxswain 's fantastic Poughkeepsie headcanon !

ao3

“Is your scowly friend back there a republican, by any chance?”

It takes Bobby a second to parse the words. He’s not used to the way Frank speaks - polished, refined, but underneath all that education and money there’s still a trace of the East Coast drawl that usually sets Bobby’s blood boiling to hear. But they aren’t out on the water, and Frank isn’t his opponent, and a few times now Bobby has gotten so lost in that cognitive dissonance and all the fascinating contradictions making up Frank’s voice that he’s completely missed the substance.

He cranes his neck to look behind him, mind catching on the most useful part of the sentence: scowly. And Roger is staring wide-eyed at a bust of Agrippa tucked into a bookshelf, which means…

“Who, Don? Don’t think so, but I doubt it’d matter anyway. New Deal’s done a lot for all of us boys.”

Frank’s grin, wide and toothy and as perfectly politic as the rest of him, warms with a sincere relief that seems to light Bobby up from the inside. This is the reason people win elections, he thinks. You just have to be handsome and charming enough and people turn to butter. Even Bobby, strong-willed as he is, feels a little weak in the knees.

“That’s wonderful news. I’m sure my father will be glad to hear it too,” Frank says, with a tone as casual as if he hasn’t just promised to personally relay Bobby’s gratitude to the President of the United States. “Must be another reason this Don fellow dislikes me, then, if it’s not politics.”

Bobby blinks, pulled back to reality by the mention of Don. “Oh - no, Don likes most people. He’s just a bit stone-faced. Killer smile when you can coax it out of him, though.”

It’s not a smile like Frank’s, broad and easy and inviting. It’s something much sweeter, something that brings an answering smile to Bobby’s lips just thinking about it - shy, private, and so brilliant it almost glows. Bobby would vote for Frank Roosevelt; he would go to the ends of the earth for Don Hume.

“Maybe he’s jealous,” Frank says.

“Of what?”

Frank’s grin turns sly, and only then does Bobby realize, with a cold thrill even in the face of that warm smile, that he’s been caught out. His only saving grace is that Frank seems pleased to know it.

“Could be plenty of things,” he says, drawing out the words with an obvious relish. “Putting myself in his shoes… he’s your stroke, right? So you come here, you meet some moneyed easterner, and you spend your night talking tactics with him - well, if I fancied myself the underdog I’d be glaring daggers at me too.”

“He’s not glaring daggers,” Bobby says, bristling. Don would be well within his rights to be pissed at Bobby over all that, if indeed he is pissed; Frank doesn’t need to make it sound petty.

Frank, with a politician’s ease, shrugs it off. “Maybe he thinks he’s a better rower. Maybe he thinks he’s more handsome.”

The second is accompanied by an exaggerated wink, and Bobby grudgingly allows himself to be charmed. Frank can’t help the arrogance, to a degree; that’s just what being raised an easterner with money gets you.

He laughs along. “For a politician’s son, you’re not very discreet.”

“You should have seen your face when you brought up his smile. Biggest cow-eyes I ever saw. Didn’t think there was much need for subtlety after that, though I don’t have high hopes of it getting me anywhere,” Frank says, shaking his head ruefully. “Go un-ruffle your stroke’s feathers. I’ll still be here if it turns out he really does just think he’s a better rower.”

Once again Bobby finds himself struggling to process the words, but this time it has nothing to do with Frank’s accent.

“Thanks,” he says vaguely, eyes already seeking out Don, who is much closer to ‘glaring daggers’ than Bobby took him to be after all. “He is a better rower, by the way.”

Frank ducks his head in a gracious admission of defeat. “I don’t doubt it.”

Don’s face does brighten at Bobby’s approach, though you’d have to know him fairly well to notice the shift. Bobby, who has spent a good number of months cataloging Don’s every expression and could probably call himself the foremost expert in reading Don Hume’s moods, sees it right away. He slides in along the ornately-patterned wall beside Don, kicking his feet out nonchalantly and knocking their elbows together, and watches another cloud dissipate.

Bobby shoots him an exaggerated frown. “Why the thunderclouds?”

“Just feel out of place, I guess,” Don says, with an unconvincing shrug. “All this wealth, when we’re putting paper in our shoes. And the president’s son welcoming us in and talking with us like we’re all the same.”

“Frank’s nice when you give him a chance.”

Although now, outside the radius of that smile, Bobby can admit that some of Frank’s charm is dependent on whether he’s actively turning it on you.

Don hums in clear skepticism. At a loss, Bobby tries for the most plausible of Frank’s harebrained, flirtatious theories. “Don’t worry, you’re a better rower than he is.”

“I know I am,” Don says, with a rare touch of arrogance. It looks good on him. Then he frowns again. “You know that just from talking strategy with him?”

So, it’s not that. Nor is it Frank’s initial conjecture - not that Bobby ever thought it was; Don is too steady for that kind of pettiness. And there’s no world in which it’s the final one.

“I’m a good cox,” Bobby says simply. “And you’re the best.”

Don snorts.

Bobby doubles down. “Scoff all you want, but two months from now you’ll have an Olympic medal and he won’t.”

“Then why is he smirking?”

Bobby knows the answer to that. What he doesn’t know is how Frank’s self-effacing grin, which reminds Bobby so strongly of a losing candidate on election night, could make Don think anything other than the truth: that when it comes to Bobby, Don has already won.

[ambrossart]

soooo, genuinely speaking, does evelyn actually have a real little crush on vic as well or is it all a childhood thing? obviously she’s hopelessly inlove with henry and she’s got this weird thing with patrick, and while she gets jealous about vic and very possessive, i time to time wonder if it’s all a real crush or just something from her childhood that had carried into her teen years? and, this may sound stupid lol, but in your opinion, does your paper men patrick have any past serious relationships or serious longings for? obviously before evelyn, but i mean like a genuine liking for. not the mind games with evelyn. part of myself believes he used to be capable of having a genuine interest and passion for someone and part of me doesn’t. i hope that wasn’t a weird or confusing question, id just like ur thoughts and opinions!! have a great day/night!

There was definitely a time when Evelyn thought she was in love with Victor Criss—that he was “the one who got away” and everything—but I think now she realizes it was a silly childhood crush, nothing more. Unfortunately, Vic always kept Evelyn at such a distance. Even if he didn’t always mean to, he did. So her feelings never had a chance to develop into anything stronger.

Evelyn currently has no romantic feelings for Victor: 1) because of her feelings for Henry and 2) because Victor hurt her really badly, and she still hasn’t forgiven him. (Vic’s also never acknowledged what he did and apologized, so… yeah there’s a lot of unresolved issues there.)

Despite all that, Evelyn still cares about Vic as a friend; and yes, occasionally, some residual feelings flutter to the surface. It’s a nostalgia thing. No big deal. I think Evelyn misses the simplicity of liking Victor. The innocence of it and of that time in her life. And I think her jealousy toward Christie is less about Vic dating and more about the way he treats her. Vic always had a cruel way of shutting Evelyn out, so to see him being so open around Christie, it stings a little. It stings a lot.

What’s so special about Christie?

Lastly, regarding Patrick, this question (or at least a similar one) has been brought up before. Let me see if I can find the post.

One second.

One second.

Here it is!

Short answer? No, Patrick doesn’t enter into relationships because he doesn’t view people as “people.” They’re just playthings to him. Some toys he likes more than others, but he has no real emotional ties to any of them. He plays with them until he’s bored, or until they break, and then he throws them away and moves on to someone else.

[thatravenpuffgirl]

Fred x Hermione Headcanons that I adore Part 2

Hermione visits the burrow and comes to the quidditch cup with the Weasley family and Harry in the summer before her fourth year and Fred makes up a plan to well, casually flirt with Hermione after beginning to like her at the end of the previous year

Basically, walking around the house shirtless half the time, even when Molly tells him off for it

Hermione stumbled across him shirtless in the kitchen alone one day and was mortified, blushing. Fred just smirked and winked. "Like what you see, huh Granger?" just being his usual teasing self really. Hermione becomes even more flustered, unable to look Fred in the eye, and rushes out of the kitchen

Then a few days later at the quidditch cup, Fred buys her a scarf in one of the team's colours. "Looks good on you, Mione"

Fred hugging Hermione tightly after the Death Eater Attack on the Quidditch World Cup

Hermione and Fred spend a lot of time together once they return to Hogwarts as usual, studying and hanging out together

Fred assures Hermione that everything will work out after Harry's name is pulled from the Goblet of Fire

Fred being nervous but excited about the Yule Ball, secretly practising his dancing

Desperately wants to ask Hermione to the ball, but is afraid

Is a little jealous when Victor Krum beats him to it, but he tries not to show it after Mione confides in him about her date first.

Dancing with Granger during the Yule Ball, and being absolutely speechless over her appearance that night- although he found she was always pretty.

Finding Hermione alone outside of the Great Hall a little while later

"I'm okay Freddie, just needed a minute alone. Dancing is quite tiring"

"Yeah, you seem to be having quite a good time on your feet, Granger"

Hermione had smiled then, before blurting out "You know, I don't really like Victor, Freddie"

"I mean- he's quite nice, but not the one for me. It's funny, I've been thinking about finding the one... and how some people never get a chance too. I mean, really, there aren't a lot of guys who like me that way, so what if I miss my chance?" Hermione vented

Fred shook his head and smiled, sitting down next to her. And then he decides to do someone stupid and reckless. Leaning over to Granger, and whispers in her ear, "You won't miss your chance, I mean, even I like you that way, Mione."

Hermione froze, and Fred bit his lip. He knew in his mind, he screwed up -he shouldn't have said that, so soon. But then Hermione moved her head to the side, looking into Fred's eyes. They were close, he could see all the little freckles scattered along her cheeks, and he could hear her breathing while trying to keep his own in check, and all he could think was that he shouldn't move his head, and then-

Hermione was kissing him, and he was kissing her back, and he wasn't sure what to do and maybe she didn't either. Fred rested his hands gently on her hips, smiling, and Hermione touched his cheek as their lips brushed together tentatively and they kissed for a minute or two before pulling apart. Fred felt giddy, his breath a little heavier. He could see Mione's cheeks burning as she smiled nervously, and they looked at each other wide-eyed.

"Wow..."

"I know"

Note: There will be another part, but this time it'll be titled "Fred and Hermione dating Headcanons I adore" since in my mind fred and Hermione start dating after this point.

[wandaluvstacos]

THE ONLY SECONDS THAT MATTER

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE IS UP!

Genre: Contemporary Romance Rating: 18+

Includes: Extensive horse nerdery + cowboys, mxm romance (1 trans + 1 cis), some discussion child abuse, some instances of trans/homophobia (it is rural Oklahoma, y'all), depression, occasional sex scene (but it’s a slow burn for sure)

Victor Ortiz-Bennett had some reservations about moving to Oklahoma, but his late aunt willed him a 70-acre horse farm, and he decides to fulfill his dream of running and operating his own training facility. Victor’s been around the reining horse show circuit for a while, and he’s ready to settle down, travel less, and spend more time with the horses he loves and away from the people he can do without. That is, until he picks up a horse at an auction with a bucking problem he can’t fix, and he has to take her to the one guy who can ride anything– Johnny Stearns, a retired professional rodeo rider.

Johnny Stearns is loud, chatty, eccentric, and fears nothing, exactly Victor’s opposite. However, Victor finds himself sinking into an odd friendship with this new foul-mouthed cowboy without a filter, diving deeper into the mess that is Johnny’s life until there’s no way to extract himself from it. Johnny may talk a tough game, but there’s more to him than he’ll let most people see. Victor knows getting in too deep will mean a rough ride, but if there’s anything Johnny’s taught him, it’s how to stay in the saddle.

Excerpt:

“Who was that person—guy—from last night?”

“What guy?” When Victor saw Johnny’s dead-eyed expression, he continued, “Oh, right, that guy. Just a date. Nothing serious.”

“What do you mean, nothing serious?”

“Well, he lives in Forth Worth and I live in Oklahoma, so—”

“How long have you known him?”

“Less than a week. Why, are you jealous?”

“No. Just wonderin’.”

“Hmm.”

“Seemed kinda…” Johnny rolled his tongue against his cheek a moment.

“Kinda what?”

“Oh, you know.”

Victor raised an eyebrow.

Johnny lifted a hand and let it go limp at the wrist.

“What’s wrong with that?” Victor asked.

“Nothin’. Just didn’t think you were into that sort. I thought he was a girl. Looked like one, too.”

“You have no clue what I’m into.”

“You were into me.”

“And how did that go? God, Johnny, I just wanted one night of uncomplicated fun. Don’t read more into it than there is.”

“You have sex?”

“That’s none of your business. Should I remind you that you were seeing and sleeping with Daisy for two months and you didn’t say a thing to me?”

“We only slept with each other, like…” Johnny had to take a moment to think about it, “twice, and she talked me into it both times. I have a hard time sayin’ no to her. It wasn’t my idea.”

Victor had to laugh a little, even if it came from a place of helplessness. “Right, you just tripped and fell into her vagina, I’m sure.”

“It beats drinkin’.”

“Why are you here?” Victor had to ask, because this conversation was going nowhere.

“I told ya, I felt like drinkin’ so—”

“Seems like it’s partially you wanting to ask me about my date from last night, which you have no right to know about. So if all you want is information on who I fuck in my free time, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

“All I’m wonderin’ is why you can run around with this stranger but when I suggested we casually mess around, you acted like I slapped you across the face.”

“Because I know you. It’s completely different.”

“I don’t see it that way.”

“Good for you. I don’t.”

“Sorry, but you were askin’ for way too much. I know you’re a Californian boy and you think that the whole world is cool with the queers now, but small town Oklahoma is still livin’ in the 1930s. If you wanted to have a cute lil public gay life with a partner, you shoulda moved to Massachusetts.”

[hoodedboy79]

Platonic/Whisper (Fable) hc's

Male Reader | Kinda followed the game but also didn't write this with the reader being the Hero of Oakvale in mind so yeah | End is kinda rushed. |

=====================

• Annoying Big Sister™

• It doesn't matter if you're actually older, she's your big sister (aka she's not letting you get a word in to correct her 💀).

• Whisper wasn't exactly thrilled with having to share a room with a boy, or share her room at all, and definitely let's you know about it every day. Even years down the line.

• She definitely forces you to pull pranks on the Guildmaster with her (She will put all the blame on you if you guys get caught).

• Is pretty distant with you when Thunder is around. She's too focused on impressing him that it doesn't matter what you two were up to privy to Thunder appearing all she cares about is the fact that you are her sparing partner and she intends to beat you.

• On the subject of Thunder, he doesn't like you.

• He's not shy on criticising your every move, especially during combat training. He's obviously more concerned with Whisper's development and is a lot more harsher on her but he's very quick to extend that blunt advice to you as well.

• He's low-key jealous that you 'took over' as Whisper's brother but he'd rather willing give up on Lady Grey than admit that.

• Back on to Whisper, if you beat her, even once, in the random challenges that she comes up with she'll quietly sulk all the way back to the Hero's Guild.

• If you beat her at all, or a significant amount, of her challenges she'll ignore you completely for a while. She'll even have her back to you in bed and pretend to sleep if you try and talk to her.

• That's only as children though. As teens she'll still be pretty pissy with you but it'll just fuel her to be more elaborate with her challenges and she's even more determined to beat you than usual.

• On the day where you two are just lounging around the Guild, probably annoying all the other hero trainees and or the Guildmaster, Whisper would probably tell you a bit about her past/culture just to pass the time. She isn't too fond of the quiet.

• It wouldn't be much and she's unsure on some things since she was quite young when she ended up in Albion and pretty much everything she knows is from Thunder, and he isn't to big on casual conversation these days.

• She'd expect you to also tell her something about where you're from. If you're from Albion then she'd just ask about the area you were born in (if you remember it).

• Now as you two get older and leave the Guild, you naturally drift apart but occasionally Whisper will appear seemingly out of nowhere and accompany you on missions (She annoyed the Guildmaster till he told her what missions you were on).

• If you use/were interested in explosives then Whisper might let you borrow some of her's if she has extra but will not so subtly imply that you're covering her drink tab at the Oakvale Tavern in return (She intends on drinking you out of a fortune).

• Now when you decide to fight in the arena only for Whisper to appear in the 3rd round came as a complete shock but a semi-welcomed one.

• Her casually admitting to bribing her way in.

• She was worried about you but like her brother would rather die than admit it.

• When it comes down to the final round and you two are put against each other, obvious hesitation follows.

• Well you hesitate more than Whisper, who was strangely quiet at the announcement but quickly brushes her shock off in favour of challenging you one last time.

• With no other choice, you two fight.

• You being the victor was not much of a shock, even if it felt like it, but Whisper pleading for her life definitely was.

• You spare her, obviously, much to the disappointment of the screaming crowd.

• Other than brief surprise and clear relief Whisper keeps her head down and avoids looking at you as you two are finally able to leave the arena.

• You both go your separate ways and don't see or hear from each other for a few months.

• Until you manage to find her one day drinking amongst the local drunkards seemingly engrossed in a pretty fierce drinking game.

• Finally noticing you Whisper quietens and just slides you one of the many pints of ale on the table, inviting you to join them.

• So all in all you and Whisper have a complicated relationship but you care about each other and even though multiple fights, both physical and verbal, without a doubt will break out when you two catch sight of each other there's still an unspoken trust between you two.

[victorluvsalice]

It’s February, and you know what that means -- Valicetine’s Day is coming up! Or, rather, Valicertine’s Day, given my love for my new OT3. And to help celebrate that, I have found myself some OT3 ship memes to post for the next couple of weeks! :D Here is one by @junnieevee, which I found very nice indeed. :) As per last year’s Valice Ship Meme February, some explanations of why I did some of the things I did on this meme are under the Read More:

Jealousy/Horniness/Clinginess Levels: None of them get particularly jealous (Smiler is naturally fairly chill, while Victor and Alice tend a little more toward self-loathing, unfortunately) -- I put Alice as the highest there because we’ve SEEN her jealous in the Forgotten Vows Verse, meaning I feel like she’s the most prone to it. Horniness was easy -- Victor has a fairly low sex drive, and Alice basically has none at all unless very specific buttons are pushed, so Smiler took that by a mile. XD It was a toss-up between which of Victor and Alice would be clingier (Alice due to the loss of her family, Victor due to the loss of his first two romantic interests) -- I eventually decided Victor struck me as the clingier type and put him a little ahead of the others.

Tropes: Victor and Alice’s tropes were easy -- Alice is very much a Violently Protective Girlfriend when it comes to Victor, and their dynamic (with Alice being the harder one who knows a thing or two about fighting, and Victor being the softer one who prefers to keep to the background) does at least invoke Pitbull Dates Puppy. Victor and Smiler were a little more difficult, but after a scan through some of the romantic tropes on TV Tropes, I decided on Romantic Ribbing (as Smiler really does strike me as the type to lovingly tease their partners) and Laugh Of Love (as Smiler would definitely make Victor laugh more!). Alice and Smiler also took some thought, as they themselves aren’t in a romantic relationship -- they’re just good friends who have a common partner. However, once I confirmed Friends With Benefits was also a trope, that immediately went on there -- one of Alice’s favorite jokes is that she and Smiler are “friends with benefits,” with Victor being “benefits.” XD I also gave them Casual Kink because -- well. At least in the main Modern AU verse, the relationship IS a kinky one, and the pair are basically co-Domming Victor. XD It felt like the best fit!

Alignment Chart: Okay, this one took some thought -- I ended up putting Victor and Alice in “Neutral Good” and Smiler in “Chaotic Good” because, the way I characterize them, they’re all good people who will help others, with Victor and Alice maybe being somewhat more inclined to follow regular old laws and such than Smiler. However, I put them at the BOTTOM of those squares (with Smiler actually coming out of theirs) because I feel like there is an argument to be made that they might shade Neutral due to caring about each other and their friends most of all -- I’m really not sure. I’m not a D&D player, and I feel like this is a really subjective one. But yeah, so far, so Good.

The Graphs: The “Be Gay. . .” one was probably the easiest -- Smiler is definitely the one to do chaotic crime, while chaotically SOLVING crime is kind of the plot of Alice: Madness Returns, sooo. . . XD Victor is of course a more peaceful sort, and Corpse Bride has him accidentally solving a crime as well (that being the murder of Emily), so yeah!

“Greeting Each Other” was probably the next easiest -- I was TEMPTED to put Smiler or Alice in the “’sup bitch” quadrants, but ultimately decided it didn’t fully fit their personalities and kept them below the horizontal line -- if close to it. Smiler is definitely more of a “bro” person, though, while Alice kinda leans toward “My Love” and Victor much more strongly leans toward it. He’s probably the mushiest of the three.

“Showing Affection” -- well, I immediately knew Smiler is the kind of person who will easily and often go in for hugs and kisses with their partner, so putting them high up in the “Physical PDA” quadrant was a no-brainer. Victor and Alice I decided were more verbal (I’d already established in earlier memes that Alice is more verbal than Victor anyway), though they do like their kisses, and I decided that, due to his upbringing, Victor was probably the one more likely to keep affection behind closed doors. Though I imagine that’s a habit Alice and Smile quickly manage to break him out of. XD

“They Are. . .” was probably the hardest because -- hmmm. While was fairly comfortable putting Alice in “Jock Goth” (if only because of A:MR combining pretty, generally dark-colored dresses with lots of platforming and running around), and I was pretty certain Victor and Smiler leaned more toward “Nerd,” I wasn’t sure if either Smiler or Victor was “Goth” or “Prep.” After looking up prep styles, I decided to put Victor on the “Prep” side, and Smiler on the "Goth” one, but keep them VERY CLOSE to the line -- Victor in particular because I think you could argue he’s got Prep clothes in Goth colors. *shrug* Again, very subjective, this one!

The Middle “Who Fits This Criteria Best” Bit: I imagine some of these are easy to figure out -- Victor strikes me as very much the first to apologize after any fights; Alice is definitely the “excuse me, they asked for no pickles” girl; Victor is only too happy to use his money to spoil his beloveds; and I think I make it clear my ships all tend to be ride-or-die, with all three of them being willing to sacrifice themselves for their loved ones. But as for some of the others:

First To Confess: This is Alice because, in the modern AU, she’s the first to bring up that she’s noticed Victor and Smiler have a mutual crush going on AND that she’s open to polyamory. The trio wouldn’t have gotten off the ground without her deciding to address the elephant in the room!

First To Kiss: Victor is much more comfortable letting his partners kiss him first, due to not wanting to misjudge a situation and make it awkward. So yeah, when it came to first kisses, both Alice and Smiler initiated their respective ones.

Prone To Hide Their Feelings: Victor because he’s shy and easily convinced others will reject him; Alice because she’s either oblivious to her own feelings or is also convinced no one will feel the same way about her. Smiler is much more up front about their feelings -- when they realize they HAVE them, see below...

Wakes Up First: Fear for Victor and Alice, as I have decided Smiler is a Morning Person. XD More seriously, when thinking about it, it felt right that they’d be the first one up -- they’re maybe not the EARLIEST riser, but they’re better at getting up in the morning that Victor and Alice for sure! And a lot peppier, which is either cute or annoying depending on how groggy Victor and Alice are.

What’s Updog?: Okay, simply put, Smiler would make the “updog” joke, and Victor would fall for it. I wasn’t sure which way to read the category. XD

First To Propose: Victor seems like the one who would most worry about marriage and somehow finding a way to make their relationship more “legal.” Though I don’t know if he WOULD propose just because -- well, which one does he actually MARRY? He’d personally feel like he was leaving one of them out.

Wants Children: I was tempted to line this out, but I eventually went for the “Victor with a ?” instead because I could imagine him KINDA wanting kids (he certainly does not mind becoming a father in the Secundus and Forgotten Vows verses). But I have never actually pictured the trio WITH kids, and I think he’d be fine if it just stayed the three of them, so... *shrug*

Didn’t Know They Were Dating: This is Smiler because, in the modern AU as I’m currently picturing it, they’re actually the LAST to figure out they wanna be with Victor. XD Basically, they waved off any potential for romantic feelings as “aw, I just think he’s a bit cute, not like I want a guy who’s already partnered with such a great girl!” -- up until the hypnosis session, when Alice called Victor “darling” and it hit Smiler like a TRUCK how much THEY wanted to say that to Victor. Cue a lot of panicked texting to their friends afterward (and a lot being on the receiving end of shit from those same friends XD). But yeah, for now, poor Smiler’s the one in that category.

Initiates Contact: Basically a repeat of the “First To Kiss” category -- Victor would rather let his partners come to him with physical affection than go to them and be rejected (especially with Alice, who does prefer to be the one to initiate contact in general due to her touch thing).

Approached First: Basically a repeat of the “First To Confess” category, as Alice was, again, the first one to bring up and okay the idea of a polyamorous relationship. She’s also the one who encouraged Victor to say hi to Smiler in the first place after realizing who they were, sooo -- yeah!

Says The L Word First: I think Smiler would be the first to drop it, with Victor following behind -- I’ve given Alice trouble saying “love” in the past due to worry about what it might mean for the person she says it to (see the Secundus version of Alice, who couldn’t get it out without stuttering for most of the fic). Plus Smiler’s just the most open with their feelings, and Victor the most mushy, so yeah.

The Oblivious One: Smiler and Alice get to share this one due to a shared “it took us a while to realize we loved Victor” problem. XD Yeah, in this verse, it took Alice a little while to cotton on that she LOVED Victor, not just LIKED him, after they’d become friends, and I just explained what happened with Smiler above. It’s kind of adorable in its own way. XD

Where Are They On The Lines: I imagine most of these are reasonably easy to figure out, but a few notes just in case:

Big/Small Spoon: I have Smiler on the “Big Spoon” side and Alice on the “Small Spoon” side, but you can easily flip them -- what’s important is that Victor is sandwiched in the middle, which he really enjoys. :)

Kills The Bug/Lets It Out: I see Smiler as equally likely to kill or release the bug -- it depends on if they can catch it, where it is, and how easy a release would be. (Either that or they just get whoever’s closest to deal with it instead.)

Steals Clothes/Has Clothes Stolen: I put them all in the middle because, well, I can SEE Smiler and Alice being the type to borrow clothes -- but the different body types on display here means I’m not sure that anything any of them took from the others would FIT. Unless we’re talking some REALLY baggy hoodies and the like. Maybe they buy each other stealable clothes as the relationship goes on. XD

Swears Like A Sailor/Oh Fiddlesticks: I put Smiler closer on the “Oh Fiddlesticks” side simply because I feel they would use that kind of goofy non-swearing just for a laugh. They ARE capable of saying “fuck,” but “fudge” is often funnier. :p

Makes Dinner/Can’t Cook: They all have their strengths -- Alice is good with general cooking; Victor enjoys baking; Smiler is excellent with mixing drinks and making sauces and stuff like that. Dinner is often a team effort!

Responsible Driver/Don’t Let Them Behind The Wheel: I was tempted to make Smiler “drives like crazy,” but decided against it -- they may go a little faster than Victor would like, but they won’t do anything too reckless to avoid getting into an accident, which would really ruin everyone’s day. Meanwhile, I see Alice as wanting to be responsible, but oftentimes she DOESN’T drive because having a Wonderland hallucination on the road would be -- bad.

Can Live In A Dumpster/Clean Freak: Well, it’s not exactly a dumpster, but yeah, easy for me to picture Smiler as the messiest of the lot. The kind to leave clothes on the floor and water bottles in odd places. :p

[katnissmellarkkk]

Oh I love this part ngl. I have the exact section right here but since I’m bored atm I’ll also annotate it for fun!

I want to ask them more, but lunch is announced. I look for Peeta, but he's hanging with a group of about ten other victors, so I decide just to eat with District 3. Maybe I can get Seeder to join us.

(Katniss being like “my fiancé is too popular for me, I guess I’ll just sit with the weirdos”)

When we make our way into the dining area, I see some of Peeta's gang have other ideas. They're dragging all the smaller tables to form one large table so that we all have to eat together. Now I don't know what to do. Even at school I used to avoid eating at a crowded table. Frankly, I'd probably have sat alone if Madge hadn't made a habit of joining me. I guess I'd have eaten with Gale except, being two grades apart, our lunch never fell at the same time.

(I love how Katniss just casually accepts and is content with the fact that they’ll be eating separate but Peeta’s group is like “nope” and she’s like “great 🙄 I’d rather have eaten without you at all than in a crowd, Peeta”. Also it’s my headcanon Peeta suggested dragging the tables together 😂 idk why)

I take a tray and start making my way around the food-laden carts that ring the room. Peeta catches up with me at the stew. “How's it going?”

“Good. Fine. I like the District Three victors,” I say. “Wiress and Beetee.”

“Really?” he asks. “They're something of a joke to the others.”

(Peeta : “babe, can you not bond with the weirdos please? Bad for my rep”)

“Why does that not surprise me?” I say. I think of how Peeta was always surrounded at school by a crowd of friends. It's amazing, really, that he ever took any notice of me except to think I was odd.

(Lolololol Katniss suddenly remembering she’s engaged to the prom king jock.)

“Johanna's nicknamed them Nuts and Volts,” he says. “I think she's Nuts and he's Volts.”

(Peep Peeta’s already budding friendship with Jojo)

“And so I'm stupid for thinking they might be useful. Because of something Johanna Mason said while she was oiling up her breasts for wrestling,” I retort.

(The last part is so unnecessary??? Like Katniss are you jealous??? Girlllll)

“Actually I think the nickname's been around for years. And I didn't mean that as an insult. I'm just sharing information,” he says.

“Well, Wiress and Beetee are smart. They invent things. They could tell by sight that a force field had been put up between us and the Gamemakers. And if we have to have allies, I want them.” I toss the ladle back in a pot of stew, splattering us both with the gravy.

(Katniss : “stop picking on my little weird old blorbo people!”)

“What are you so angry about?” Peeta asks, wiping the gravy from his shirtfront. “Because I teased you on the elevator? I'm sorry. I thought you would just laugh about it.”

(Peeta finally snapping lololol “what’s your problem, bro/babe” but for real, Katniss’ still being butthurt over the elevator scene is super relatable)

“Forget it,” I say with a shake of my head. “It's a lot of things.”

“Darius,” he says.

“Darius. The Games. Haymitch making us team up with the others,” I say.

(Not mentioned here but this part reminds me, I find it interesting that Katniss said the night before that “Darius and all the sadness towards him being made into an avox belongs to her and Gale and maybe Haymitch but not Peeta. Peeta doesn’t get to be upset because he didn’t know Darius that well because Peeta was a merchant kid.” Because after Mockjngjay, after Peeta is held captive with Darius and witnesses his and Lavinia’s brutal murders, I’d say Peeta is more connected to Darius than Katniss or Gale or Haymitch ever could be.)

“It can just be you and me, you know,” he says.

(Peeta : always can be counted on to charm her attitude away)

“I know. But maybe Haymitch is right,” I say. “Don't tell him I said so, but he usually is, where the Games are concerned.”

(“Let’s listen to Haymitch. Let’s not tell him we’re listening to him though.”)

“Well, you can have final say about our allies. But right now, I'm leaning toward Chaff and Seeder,” says Peeta.

(A little sidebar but I love how Katniss and Peeta both somehow separately grew a fondness for Seeder. They’re both attracted to good people. 🥹🤧 I mean, obviously. That’s how they found each other.)

“I'm okay with Seeder, not Chaff,” I say. “Not yet, anyway.”

“Come on and eat with him. I promise, I won't let him kiss you again,” says Peeta.

(Okay, on one hand, adorable how Peeta says he’ll protect her 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹. We love to see it. 🥰 On the other hand though, I always hated how Chaff kissed her that one time and no one, including Peeta, did anything about it? Or even said it wasn’t okay or it was creepy? Idk that’s one incident where I’m annoyed with even Peeta. Like babe, cute that you say you’ll protect her here but you didn’t last night??? Anyways, I digress)

There’s a lot of things that I love about the hunger games but one of them is that the main romance, at its core, is the ‘weird girl/cool guy who’s obsessed with her’ trope

[actualyuuri]

prompt: yuuri, yuri, and Viktor are shopping or something; someone flirts w/ yuuri, Viktor is jealous, yuri is rolling his eyes because "Viktor you're jealous and it's pathetic okay"

Pins & Coffee

length: 1.8k; rating: all ages

@anon how dare u leave me a prompt involving jealous!Victor when I am supposed to be studying (jk tyvm)

Read more of my fics here or leave me a prompt here!

“People actually buy these things?” Yurio sneers as he shifts through the small pile of pins by the checkout. “What are you even supposed to do with pins?”

“Pin things,” Victor answers simply.

He rolls his eyes. “Duh, but pin them to what? Like, clothes? I wouldn’t put anyof these on my clothes.”

Yuuri shifts his weight from one foot to the other. “I own pins.”

“Of course you do,” Yurio scoffs. He squints at the line in front of them. “How long is this gonna take? And why are there so many people here?”

“I’m not sure,” Victor notes. “Why don’t you wait in line while Yuuri and I keep shopping? Here’s some cash.”

“What?” Yurio asks, as Victor shoves the stacks of clothes and money into his arms and walks away. He glances over his shoulder at Yuuri, who glances between them, conflicted, before hurrying after Victor. “You two are not leaving me here.” He frowns at the person in front of him in line, then the person behind him. “Victor, come back here right now or I swear.”

“That was mean,” Yuuri says as he catches up to Victor, looking back at Yurio, who is fuming, the clothes piled up to his neck.

Victor shrugs. “He’ll get over it. Besides, we have a lot more shopping to do. I need more jeans. And Mila asked me to pick her up… Some sort of perfume.” He pulls a piece of paper out of his pocket and squints at the print. “Can you read this?”

Yuuri stands on the balls of his feet to try and get a better look. “Um, no, I can’t.”

“Well, I’ll text her,” he sighs. “But she said it’s at a store on the lower level, so let’s go.”

“What about Yurio?”

Victor shrugs. “He’ll be in line for a while. And we’ll text him, too.”

They get on the escalator, Yuuri leaning against the railing as they descend towards the lower level of the mall. They’re each holding several bags, and Victor wonders if Yuuri’s arms are starting to get tired. “It’s this way,” he says.

He turns a corner, and Yuuri turns too, except there’s a loud slam. Victor turns around to see Yuuri on the ground, the bags spilled in front of him and a man kneeling down, mumbling quick apologies in Russian and helping him gather his fallen items. And Yuuri gets up slowly, rubbing at his forehead, and then his eyes meet the man’s.

And they stare for a second.

And Victor hurries over.

“Are you okay?” Victor asks him.

Yuuri nods. “I’m fine.”

“You speak English?” the Russian man asks.

(Of course this man happens to speak English, Victor thinks.)

“Yeah,” Yuuri replies, offering a smile.

“I’m so sorry, I wasn’t looking.” He finishes piling Yuuri’s items back into his bags and picks them up for him by the handles. And he has muscular arms. Victor will admit that. But only from an objective perspective, of course. It’s not as though he’s attractive.

“No, no, I wasn’t looking,” Yuuri insists. He adds a thanks as he takes the bags.

“Let me buy you coffee,” the man says. Then he glances at Victor, as if, perchance, remembering his existence. “Both of you.”

Yuuri blushes and ducks his heads. “Oh, you really don’t have to.”

“You really don’t have to,” Victor agrees, licking his lips. He takes a step closer to Yuuri. Because this man’s intentions are becoming obvious. And the way his eyes lock onto Yuuri is becoming obvious. And as childish as it may seem, Victor doesn’t like it.

“I insist,” the stranger adds. “There’s a place right over here.”

Yuuri glances at Victor, then shrugs. “Okay, if you’re sure.”

Victor hates Yuuri’s kindness.

(No, he loves Yuuri’s kindness. He just happens to hate it in this very moment.)

The man buys them coffee. He starts talking to Yuuri. Yuuri talks back to him. And they’re laughing. “Did you hear that, Victor?” Yuuri asks him, a hint of concern in his eyes, which makes sense, probably, because Victor hasn’t heard a single word in the past three minutes.

“No, what is it?”

“Nothing,” Yuuri dismisses.

And the man is smiling at him.

Like they’re friends or something ridiculous like that.

(Yuuri is friendly, of course he’s friendly. But he’s also attractive. And sometimes friendliness and attractiveness can be a dangerous duo.)

“You two ditched me,” Yurio says as he walks up to them, shopping bags piled high. “And who’s this?”

“We bumped into each other in the mall, he offered to buy us coffee,” Yuuri explains. “Oh, I didn’t actually catch your name…”

“Alexei,” he answers, smiling. “And you’re…?”

“Yuuri.”

“Yuuri, that’s a nice name.”

Yuuri blushes.

(Victor hates it.)

(Because he has made Yuuri blush before on several occasions, and he prides himself on that. Because Yuuri looks unbelievably endearing when he blushes, and he ducks his head just like that, and sometimes he’ll touch his hair—yes, just like that. Except it’s not for Victor this time. Which is annoying. And unfair. Unfair for several reasons that he can’t think of right now, but that he is absolutely sure are present.)

“Your… Your name is nice too,” Yuuri tells him shyly.

Victor sees Yurio glance down at his phone and type out something. Then he feels his own phone buzz in his back pocket.

You’re pathetic.

He glares at Yurio and texts back. What?

Yurio doesn’t respond, just sits down at their table, setting his bags on the floor beside the chair. And then Alexei is asking Yuuri about something, and Yuuri tugs on the collar of his shirt, licking his lips as he stares at the table. Victor sees Alexei’s gaze lock onto the action and curses internally. He takes his phone back out and texts Yurio again. Do something.

Yurio raises an eyebrow at him from across the table. Yuuri and Alexei are too invested in their own conversation to notice either of them. And Yuuri doesn’t normally do well with strangers. Which is making this worse. Because this means that Alexei is quickly becoming more than a stranger. After all, they’re already on a first name basis. Why don’t they just get married? Oh, right, because Yuuri is engaged to Victor. To Victor. Victor begins coming up with a list of casual ways he could introduce their engagement to the conversation. 

Would you pay me? Yurio asks.

Fine.

Say please.

Please.

Yurio clears his throat. “I want to go home. Victor, take me home.”

Victor smiles internally, but sighs externally. “So early?” He laces his tone with fake disappointment.

“We need to get Mila’s perfume,” Yuuri points out.

“Then let’s get the perfume and leave,” Yurio says.

Yuuri smiles at Alexei. “It was nice meeting you.”

“It was nice meeting you too,” he says. “Would you… Do you have a phone?”

He nods. Takes it out of his pocket.

Victor can’t believe his eyes.

(Can’t believe them.)

Because Yuuri is giving his phone number to this man.

His fiancé, giving away his phone number.

No.

(No, no.)

(This can’t be happening.)

“We’ll have to keep in touch,” Alexei says, smiling brightly.

(Because who wouldn’t be smiling after receiving Yuuri’s phone number?)

Victor wants to wipe that smile off of his face as quickly as possible.

He takes Yuuri’s hand.

Laces their fingers.

Yuuri glances at him, surprised, lips parting.

Alexei looks surprised, too, and so does Yurio.

“Let’s go,” Victor says, smiling at Alexei. “Nice to meet you.”

Victor lets go of his hand a moment later, when they’re back in the crowded mall. He doesn’t want to, but he does. Yuuri still looks adorably confused, though, eyebrow shooting up towards his hairline. “What was that about?”

Yurio snickers. “I wonder.”

“What was what about?” Victor asks innocently.

Yuuri doesn’t answer, just enters the store and starts glancing around. “Did Mila text you back about the perfume?”

Before Victor can reply, Yuuri’s phone buzzes, and he takes it out of his pocket, smiling at the screen and typing something.

(Smiling at the screen.)

(Smiling.)

“Who are you texting?” Victor wonders. It’s a casual inquiry. Very casual. Just a question. An innocent question. Not weird in the slightest, no.

Yuuri glances up. “Oh, what?”

“Who… Who were you texting, just now?”

Yurio is face palming, out of Yuuri’s sight.

“Phichit,” Yuuri says. “He was just asking me to help him decide on an outfit.”

“Oh.”

“Oh?” he asks.

“Just… That’s… Well, did you help him?”

Yuuri nods slowly. “Um, yes.”

“That’s… Nice of you.”

Yurio interrupts, “Here’s Mila’s perfume. I know because it smells bad.”

They buy the perfume, then they’re walking towards the car. Yuuri is texting someone again. “Phichit, still?” Victor asks.

“No, Alexei just said hi. Just so that I’d have his number, too.”

“Right. So that you have his number too,” Victor repeats slowly. “That makes sense.”

Yuuri licks his lips. “You’ve been… You’re acting weird.”

“Am I? I didn’t notice.”

“Okay, both of you, stop walking.” Yurio blurts. “Victor is jealous that you gave that guy your number because he’s dumb, and you didn’t notice because you’re dumb. There. Better? Can we all act normal again?”

Yuuri gapes. “You were jealous? Why?”

Victor rubs the back of his neck. “I wouldn’t use the word jealous… I just…”

“He was jealous,” Yurio confirms before hurrying towards the car and getting in shotgun. Yuuri and Victor remain in the parking lot.

“I… He looked at you. A lot,” Victor explains lamely.

Yuuri bites the inside of his cheek. “He was just being friendly.”

He laughs, but it’s humorless. “No… Yuuri, he was flirting. You’re just too nice to notice.”

“I don’t… Really?”

Victor nods. “Really.”

“Well, I wasn’t interested in him, anyway,” Yuuri says, shrugging. “I’m interested in someone else.”

“Oh.”

“You sound surprised.”

“I just…”

“I do have a fiancé, you know.”

Victor stares.

Stares.

(For a while, probably.)

(His mouth is open, probably. His eyes are wide, probably. He looks like an idiot, probably.)

But he doesn’t care. Can’t bring himself to care.

“You’re saying…?”

Yuuri rolls his eyes and takes his hand, lacing their fingers once again. “Yes, I’m saying that I’m not going to cheat on my fiancé. Is that really so shocking?”

“But that’s implying that we’re… That…”

“That we’re together?” Yuuri suggests. “You didn’t think we were?”

“I wasn’t sure what you thought,” Victor points out. “I thought we were. I didn’t know if you thought the same.”

“Well I do,” he assures him. “So no need to be jealous, okay?”

Victor glances down at their joint hands.

Yurio sticks his head out of the car window. “How long is this going to take? Can’t you two just kiss already and get it over with?”

Yuuri does that blush thing again. Except it’s with Victor, this time, and it feels twice as good, makes his heart skip a beat. “Should we?” Victor suggests.

“Kiss?” Yuuri asks, surprised. “I mean, if you—”

(Victor kisses him.)

(Soft, warm, inviting.)

“Isn’t it sort of weird that Yurio is coaching us through our relationship?” Yuuri asks when they’ve pulled away, his forehead pressed against Victor’s.

“Probably. But it shows that he cares.”

Yurio growls. “I heard that! I do not care.”

“He’s lying,” Victor whispers, giving Yuuri a wink.

[spilledkauffie]

Third Time’s A Charm

Pairing: Roman Sionis x Female!Reader Word Count: 2.6k T/W: Smut / thigh riding, glove kink? choking  A/N: Clearing out my drafts. I am very aware Roman is kinda terrible, but Ewan is gorgeous so:

The club was as usual: alive with vibrant streaming lights, voices chattering, and a drone from the d.j.’s booth made the floor vibrate softly underfoot. Normally you didn’t like to make an appearance, much happier away from the deliriously drunk crowds, but you hadn’t seen Roman in three weeks- and two days. . . you didn’t mean to keep track, but you couldn’t help it. Even though he had promised to come up and see you immediately after the negotiations he had to conduct tonight, you couldn’t wait any longer knowing he was right downstairs.

Stepping into his favourite silk dress of yours, the one that fell just beneath the curve of your ass, with an open back, you paired it with heels, and decided to have a little fun— after all you did give him that strip tease over the phone while he was away. Confidently, but carefully, stepping down the stairs, you caught clear sight of his usual table. It looked like some fancy upcoming hotshot was pleading for protection. Roman looked bored, you could tell his mind was already elsewhere. Biting in your lip, you smiled. Skillfully making your way over to the bar, unseen, the bartender greeted you by your first name, knowing you well enough by now, everyone did. You asked him for a tray with a glass of Roman’s favourite drink.

“Ah, jeez,” the bartender started, fiddling with his fingers, slightly nervous, “I’d love to, but- but Mr. Sionis told me not to let you waitress anymore.”

You shifted your weight onto the other hip, quirking your lips, a little let down, but not exactly surprised that he’d told everyone but you about this new rule, “well...I promise nothing’s going to happen to you,” you leaned in whispering sincerely, knowing it was easy to be scared of disobeying an order from Roman, “I’m not really waitressing, per se, think of it as more of a social experiment I need to conduct.”

With promised security from you, the bartender tried to be casual, looking around, but he mainly kept an eye on Roman whilst making the drink and handing you the tray. You thanked him and slid a few rolled 20s his way with a wink. Checking your hair in a nearby hazy mirror, you sauntered over to Roman’s table. The guy sitting opposite from him was stretched nearly halfway across the table, hands clasped together, begging. Roman was busy watching the performance, paying little attention to the whining kid in front of him.

“A drink, Mr. Sionis?” You asked from behind him, in your best waitressing voice.

“Sure,” he sighed, so annoyed that he didn’t even look up to you, “I’ll have-”

“Already ordered,” you carefully handed him the glass, making sure that your fingers touched, even though his were covered with his usual black initialed gloves, “and sent by special delivery.”

Once the drink was out of your hand, you slipped your fingertips along the slit of bare skin showing, at the base of his gloves, as you turned, walking away. By the time Roman looked up, you were already halfway across the club. Avoiding a look back, you were confident you’d gotten his attention. Softly setting the tray on the bar and biting the inside of your lip, you tried to repress the giggle swelling in your throat. Leaning forward into the bar as you waited, keeping your back purposefully to him, some unwanted company found you. 

“Hey,” a stranger slurred beside you, slowly sliding in closer; he smelled like cheap cologne, “you wanna- shots, my place?”

Before you could answer: the whiskey glass you had just handed Roman was set forcefully between the two of you on the bar’s table top, a familiar gloved fist curled tightly around it. You flicked your eyes to look at the stranger for a moment, he suddenly seemed like a stray dog with his tail tucked between its legs. Returning your gaze forward, you straighten yourself up, knowing it was no longer your problem.

“Fuck off,” you heard Roman’s voice behind you, obviously aggravated; you couldn’t help feeling some sort of way with that being the first word you heard him say in person in weeks.

With the stranger gone, you suddenly felt cool leather touching your skin, starting at the base of your neck, Roman stroked a knuckle down your spine. Unable to ignore the tingling sensation spreading across your skin like settling champagne, you pushed back your shoulder blades and tilted your head, exposing the side of your neck to him. He took the opportunity, placing a linger kiss to your skin, you closed your eyes and sighed happily.

“Is that the perfume I sent you from Paris?” He breathed in the scent you had pressed onto your neck, his voice was just as erotic as you remembered it being. 

“I’ve worn it everyday since you sent it,” you admitted, opening your eyes as he removed his hand from you, setting it against the metal edge of the bar, locking you between him and the counter. You could feel his lips lingering, so close to your skin. Attempting to control your already erratic breathing, you tried to breathe slower.

He hummed, but it was more like a purr to you. Almost placing another kiss to your neck, he pulled back, making you exhale disappointed, “turn around,” he told you instead.

You slowly did as requested, finding yourself a matter of inches from him. He eyed you up and down, “now there’s the view I like,” he said, gaze shifting from your figure up to meet your eyes. You maintained eye contact best you could feeling a blush rising. He smirked, taking a sip from his glass, “not that you don’t look fucking fantastic from behind.”

You broke into a smile, but he turned serious, dipping down slightly, holding your jaw in his hand tenderly, “I thought I told you that you don’t need to waitress anymore.”

Before you could say anything he was raising a hand to point towards the bartender. You quickly placed your palms against his chest, “I wasn’t-” he looked back at you with interest, but still kept his hand up, “I wanted to see you,” you blinked a few times, looking down, “keep an eye on you. . . since it’s been so long. I asked him to help.”

“Oh,” he breathed, lowering his hand and waving Victor away, “is my little kitten jealous?”

Roman hooked a finger under your chin, tilting your head up, making you look up through your eyelashes at him. He swiped his thumb across your bottom lip, you smiled softly, loving how the gloves felt against you, smooth and cold. Sighing with a smile he looked down to your dress.

“I like this,” he leaned back to eye you over again, slipping two fingers underneath the thin strap resting on your shoulder.

“It’s your favourite,” you reminded him; sliding your hands off his chest, pressing yourself against him, “nothing but silk,” you whispered, kissing just under his ear, before you began placing needy kisses along his neck while you tried to subtly center yourself on top of one of his thighs.

“Not here,” he pulled back from you completely, “I want you all to myself,” seeing the bambi look in your eyes, he downed the last of his drink, “get your pretty ass up those stairs,” he said, whiskey still burning his throat as he spoke, “I’ll be right behind you.” 

You did as you were told, looking back half way up the stairs to see him talking with Victor, he was gesturing towards the poor soul that had dared to flirt with you. “Poor guy has no idea what’s coming,” you thought to yourself. Stepping back into the apartment alone, you weren’t sure if things were going to go according to the plan you had in mind. Sometimes he followed you, other times he was distracted by more business. But one thing was for certain, you realised just how much you had missed him and how he made you feel. You pressed your back against the wall, smiling to yourself.

“Now, that is a fucking perfect piece of art,” Roman said suddenly, drawing your attention to him as he locked the door and stepped over to a table, where he began taking one pair of gloves off, “now, I thought I told you I’d see you after negotiations?”

“I just missed you,” you smiled bashfully, “a lot.”

“Aww,” he smirked, glancing over to you whilst pulling on his white pair of gloves, he noticed the sharp inhale you took as you but your lip.

Continuing his walk to you from there he wrapped his arms around your frame, “baby, baby c’mere.”

You breathed in his cologne as he brought you closer, it was intoxicating. One hand traced down your spine, the other came to your jaw softly. Slipping his hand underneath the fabric of your dress, you felt him press against the small of your back. Inhaling sharply, your body naturally responded to his touch, pushing your chest against his. He had missed your body against his, he liked feeling your erratic breathing. 

“Show me,” he said against your neck, thumb teasingly stroking the base of your neck; he easily parted your legs with his knee, “step out of those heels and show me what you wanted downstairs.” 

You swallowed, meeting his gaze as he leaned back for a moment, “now,” he said, quirking an eyebrow.

Stepping one by one out of your heels, you softly kicked them away. Reaching your hands to the hem of your dress, you pulled it up a little to allow yourself more movement. Settling yourself atop his thigh, you placed your hands on his chest, you were desperate to feel some skin, but you weren't about to complain. Arching your back, you rocked your hips down against the slick fabric of his dress pants. 

“Good girl,” he mused, caressing your sides with his hands, feeling your body move, loving every inch of you.  

You were surprised how quickly it stimulated you. Pussy already throbbing after a few deep motions, you looked down, inhaling deeply trying to hold back a whimper, “oh no, no, no,” he chuckled, taking your jaw between his thumb and index finger carefully, “you look at me.”

You gave a small whine, making him smile. Determined to get more, you began unbuttoning his black dress shirt, you were happy enough when you reached halfway undone, allowing you enough room to spread your hands out against his chest, finally feeling his skin. You closed your eyes and bit in the corner of your lip, humming at the warmth.  

“Harder,” he sneered, voice rasping.

You pushed up on to your tiptoes so you could grind your hips higher on him. One hand disheveling his shift from the desperate attempts to feel every inch you could of his skin, you clasped a finger through his belt loop with your free hand and tugged him closer to you. He said nothing, just moved a hand to your neck again. Palming the small of your back, he helped with the adjustment of your movements and picked up the pace. Gasping, you lifted a leg to slide up the back of his. He could feel your fingernails trying to dig into his skin at the edge of his shoulder. There was a knotting sensation rising in your abdomen, building, and building, and building-

“Roman,” you sighed blissfully, tossing your head back, lips parting in anticipation of your orgasm.

Immediately he tightened his hand around your throat, “don’t” he stopped all motion, pushing your leg off of him, “don’t you fucking dare.” 

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to squeeze your legs shut too when he stepped back, but he was quicker, slipping a hand between your thighs in place of his knee. The leather was cold against the inside of your thighs, and he liked the way you shivered at his touch. He traced his hand slowly up your legs. With you twitching them together the back of his hand stroked one leg while the palm of his hand inched up the other. He gave your inner thigh a tighter grip and your body naturally jolted a little, making him chuckle at how sensitive you were for him. 

Tilting your head to look at him, he was inches away from your lips and you wanted to taste the alcohol on his. He gave you what you wanted, lips meeting yours with a passion. He was already nipping at the bottom of your lip when you practically screamed into the kiss as he pressed his fingers against your clit firmly. The coolness of the glove, the deep circular motion he was applying, for a moment you thought you’d lost yourself. You were suddenly reaching down to grasp hold of his wrist buried under the silk fabric, unsure if you could take more teasing after he had denied you your first orgasm. 

“Sweetheart,” Roman clicked his tongue at you, pressing teasingly soft circles against your clit,  “be good.”

You moved your hands away from his wrist shakily as you felt him continue his motions. As he returned to tasting your lips, you found yourself spreading your legs as he deepened the kiss. He teased you, barely gliding his middle finger along your slick folds. Feeling yourself become wetter by the minute, you let him swallow your moans, until he began trailing his ;ips down your neck.

“Are-are you gonna. . . gonna keep them on?” You asked, barely able to make a sentence, hands grasping his biceps for support.

 He nuzzled your neck, kissing it once more, “I know how you like it.”

You could feel how your pussy was pulsing for him now and he had you right where he wanted you. With a gentle push, two of his gloved fingers swiftly slid inside you, all at once it was your heat met by the cool material. After the first few pumps, you could feel his fingernails through the fabric against your walls with how tight his gloves were now that they were slightly wet. 

“Roman!” you screamed.

He used his free hand to cover your mouth, “shh, babygirl” he hushed, fingers deep inside you, your slick making it easier with each thrust. He felt you moan against his hand and watched your eyelids flutter. You suddenly put a hand around his wrist and guided it down to your neck. He brought you closer to him, lips pressing a kiss to your forehead as he tightened his grip. He could feel your breath against the base of his neck, your lips grazing against his skin.

“Fuck- Roman,” you mused, shakily dragging a hand up to push back his dirty blonde hair, combing it between your fingers, “right there, Darling.” 

He pumped his fingers deep and hard. Giving an occasional repressed whine, you stood on your tiptoes, attempting to get a new angle. Parting your lips against his neck, you kissed him while you still had your wits about you. But when you felt him curl his fingers inside you, it made your jaw drop completely, and chest heave. Feeling your thighs beginning to tremble, he removed his fingers from you, just in time.

“Shit,” you whimpered at the loss of pleasure again, leaving you shaking and desperately clinging to him, “Roman-”

“Hmm,” he softly chuckled, but there was slight sympathy, “I’ve put you through it,” you looked up, to meet his stare, mascara smudged from when you had almost been brought to the bring, but denied, “tell me what you really want, babygirl.”

“I want you to fuck me,” you admitted, stealing a kiss of your own. You pulled him to you by the lapels of his velvet jacket, he braced himself against the wall behind you with both hands. You ground your hips against his, unabashedly forcing the kiss to be deeper.

“So needy,” he said, with a chuckle, your lips still touching his.

“Roman,” you whined, eyebrows furrowing.

“Alright, you know what they say,” he pressed his thumb against your lip, stroking back and forth, “third time’s a charm.” 

[r3almellow]

Trust Me (Gavin x Mia!OC Commission Fic)

I was commissioned to do a jealousy fic for Gavin and MC with our favorite CEO being the root of the problem! So glad that I finally have this piece done! When it comes to Gavin, you guys know I think he’s the KING OF JEALOUSY. Like I feel like he’d be so petty towards whoever he thinks is trying to still his girl away. This was a welcomed challenge for me because I get to kind of tap into Gavin and his relationship with MC in a more angsty filled way! Thank you my precious anon for commissioning this fic to be done. I truly hope its to your liking. 

Words: 4K

Notes: MC’s name in this fic will be Mia per the request of my dear anon. Because this story is kinda long I put most of it under the cut. 

Warning: NSFW 

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Gavin scowled at his phone, reading the text message he had just received for what felt like the tenth time. 

Mia @ 6:16: Working late tonight. I’ll call you on my way home! Love you!

This wasn’t the first time Mia, Gavin’s girlfriend, had sent a text like this in a span of three weeks. She had been working a lot lately, spending most of her time at the office. It was only recently she had gotten promoted which meant she would be working very closely with the CEO of LFG, Victor Li. Gavin would be a liar if he said he wasn’t feeling a little jealous, but could anyone blame him? Victor Li was a man who built an empire at a young age, had the money, the accomplishments, and sex appeal most in his field dreamed of having. Any woman would be lucky to have him. 

Gavin wasn’t the type to compare himself to other men. He was content with how he lived his life and while he wasn’t as well off as the prestigious investor, Gavin lived in a nice apartment with his plants and girlfriend. A simple and humble lifestyle for a simple and humble guy.  His only hope was that what he had was enough for Mia. Of course, he wanted to pamper her and give her the world because that’s the kind of love she deserved, but that was sometimes easier said than done. 

“You might burn a hole in your phone if you keep glaring at it like that.” Gavin’s expression didn’t change as he looked up at the person who dared to interrupt him when he was supposed to be working.

Eli, who was immune to Gavin’s deadly gaze after years of working together, casually sat in the chair across from him with a knowing smirk.

“Let me guess…your girl working another late night with her boss?” 

Gavin didn’t answer, only tossing his phone to the side to resume filling out the mission report he had ignored for the past twenty minutes. 

“Isn’t this like the third time this week?” Gavin couldn’t help but grip the pen in his hand tightly at the question. More like the 8th time in almost a month. Gavin hated feeling this way, but the fact that he hasn’t spent any quality time with his girlfriend was starting to eat at him. 

It’s been two months since they had moved in together and yet they had barely had time for one another. He knew how demanding her job was with this new promotion and he was barely home as it is with his own job, but the moments they actually spent together these days felt nonexistent. He’d come home to her already fast asleep or on days he had off she’d be gone for most of the day swamped with paperwork and meetings. Now he was getting “I’ll be late” texts from her more often than he would like. 

Eli leaned back in his chair to observe his friend. “You remember that one woman I was talking to? The cute barista? Ah..she was really cute. The dates were great and the sex? Let me tell you the sex wa-”

“Your point?” Gavin really wasn’t in the mood to hear Eli go down memory lane about one of the many women he had taken to bed. Eli was a good guy, but his taste in women was sometimes questionable to say the least. 

“Patience, my dear agent. Anyways, remember she broke things off with me a few months back, claiming that she wasn’t ‘looking for a relationship’? Just the other day I found out she’s engaged to some Italian businessman! Can you believe that?” 

Gavin wasn’t a fool to misunderstand the implications behind Eli’s story, but before he reacted he wanted Eli to explain himself. 

“What are you saying?” Gavin leaned back in his chair with folded arms, his voice seeping venom. Eli knew better than to speak ill of Mia in any way, especially in Gavin’s presence. Whatever was about to come out of Eli’s mouth next would determine whether or not he would leave this room with all his teeth intact. 

Eli sat there unphased.

“Relax! Mia’s a total sweetheart, but a single rich businessman like him might want to take advantage of that fact. I’m just saying a cute innocent office worker willing to do anything they can to help their company might be right up his alley.” 

If this was Eli’s way of soothing the raging beast that was slipping through the cracks of the wall Gavin strategicly built to prevent himself from ending up in jail for murder then his so called friend was doing a really crappy job. 

Gavin didn’t doubt that Mia loved him with every fiber of her being, but he couldn’t stop that nagging feeling that the time she spent with the super successful businessman would entice her in some way. She’d never cheat. No. But…her leaving Gavin for someone who could probably pull Rolls-Royce out of their ass and take her on expensive trips every week if she desired, could be a possibility. 

As if Eli could feel the dread radiating off his unhappy partner he spoke again this time with a little more compassion.

“Hey, don’t beat yourself up over it! I’m sure Mia’s not being charmed by her crazy rich and super hot boss.” It was official, Eli sucked at pep-talks.

“I swear I’m going to punch you if you say one mor-” Eli put his hands up signifying he was backing off from the subject.

“No need to be so violent! Come on, why don’t we go grab a few drinks and hang! Meet you outside the locker room in ten minutes?” Gavin was ready to decline the offer not wanting to be in Eli’s presence at the moment, but he also didn’t want to go home to an empty apartment reminded of the fact that Mia was spending more time with her boss than she was with him.

Maybe a drink wouldn’t hurt.

~

One drink quickly turned into five so by the end of his night out with Eli it was safe to say Gavin was a little buzzed. He was good enough to make his way home, but two more bottles of beer would’ve definitely sealed his fate.

The journey home wasn’t too bad aside from the rain he had to deal with halfway into his trip. That was probably one of the downsides to using his trusty motorcycle, Sparky, on a daily basis. There was always a possibility of rain and with rain it sometimes led to him being completely drenched. Luckily he was sheltered by his leather jacket and biker helmet. He was even luckier when the pouring rain turned into a light drizzle by the time he got home. 

Parking his motorcycle he pulled out his phone to check it. He hoped Mia had gotten home before the rain started, but the five missed calls and three text messages from Mia might have proven otherwise.

Mia @ 9:30pm: Hey! I’m not sure if you’re still working, but it looks like it's going to rain! I’m going to run to the store to pick up a few things and head home before the rain starts. Be safe!

Mia @ 10:15: Totally missed the bus and now I’m soaking wet! I’m going to try to get a taxi!

Mia @ 10:45: Made it home safely! I hope you’re okay! Please, call me when you can! 

Gavin checked the time realizing her last message was sent a few minutes ago. He mentally kicked himself for having his phone on silent. He didn’t even remember turning the ringer off on the stupid thing. 

He sent back a quick text confirming his arrival and heaved out a frustrated sigh. He shoved the phone into his pocket and made his way to the doors of the apartment building. When the front doors came into view a well dressed figure standing in the way caught his attention. 

A tall man with jet black hair who was holding an umbrella, stood by the entrance completely engrossed with his phone, texting whosoever at rapid speed. The slightly open long black coat he wore gave Gavin just enough view of the business suit that laid underneath. He looked important. Too important to be waiting outside an apartment building in the rain. 

As if feeling the impending presence the man looked up and their eyes locked for a few seconds. The raven haired man’s expression was filled with annoyance. But he quickly relaxed, probably realizing Gavin wasn’t the type to be intimidated by his stare.

“My apologies.” Was all the man said before stepping to the side to give Gavin passage, holding up the phone he was aggressively tapping against, to his ear.

“Goldman, I see the Milan meeting was rescheduled to tomorrow morning instead of the 15th. Who approved this change?” His voice was almost authoritarian like as he gave whoever this “Goldman” was an earful. Yeah, he was definitely important. 

Gavin didn’t spend too much time thinking about the brief encounter. The person who was actually worth his time was waiting for him and she was more important. 

When he got into the apartment he found Mia coming out of the bathroom in only a large tshirt and a towel on her shoulders.  

“Baby!” Mia happily walked up to him with a huge smile on her face. Gavin smiled back as he shrugged off his jacket just in time to catch her in a tight hug. Gavin breathed in the sweet scent of the soap she used and sighed happily. There was something rewarding about coming home to Mia after almost a full day of working. He was able to leave all the stress behind the minute he had her in his arms.

“I was starting to get worried when you didn’t answer my calls.” Mia pouted. He loved when she pouted like that. She looked so adorable and it made her lips look extremely kissable. 

He planted a quick kiss against her lips and gave her an apologetic look. 

“Sorry, my ringer was off. I would’ve been home sooner if Eli didn’t drag me out for drinks. You didn’t have too much trouble getting home, did you?” 

Mia shook her head, removing herself from his arms. He watched as she made her way into the kitchen most likely trying to find something to eat. 

“Aside from missing the bus? Nope! My boss just so happened to be in the area and took me home.” Gavin was halfway through taking off his shoes when her words forced him to stop. 

“Your boss took you home?” He didn’t mean for his question to be filled with so much irritation, he really tried to mask it but the thought of Mia having to rely on someone else to insure her safety made his blood boil. 

“Yeah! He saw me trying to hail a taxi and offered me a ride!” Gavin’s body tensed. Was that the guy he saw outside? 

His expression grew dark. Why did that guy feel the need to take her home? Was it the gentlemanly thing to do? Or did he have other intentions for his precious Mia? Whatever the reason it left a bad taste in Gavin’s mouth. 

“I should’ve picked you up.” Gavin responded flatly.

Mia only smiled as if trying to cheer him up.

“It’s okay! Victor insisted on taking me home. I thought it was going to be super awkward but we had a pretty nice conversation. He thanked me for all my hardwork and even joked that my Christmas bonus would be enough to get me a car.” She laughed. Gavin didn’t laugh, not even a smile graced his lips. 

“You two are on a first name basis now?” 

She laughed sheepishly completely unaware of the ticking time bomb before her. “Oh! I-I…well since we’ve been spending so much time together we…” 

Mia trailed off, probably noticing the muscles in Gavin’s jaw tensing up and how his face became completely unreadable. In a matter of seconds she was in front of him again, lightly touching his arm.

“Hey, honey, are you okay?” She was worried about him and even so, Gavin didn’t feel at ease at all. 

“I just don’t understand why you have to spend all this time with him.” He probably sounded like a jealous child craving his mother’s attention but at that moment he didn’t care. 

Mia only shrugged, still not understanding what had gotten Gavin so riled up.

“Well with my current position I kind of have to.”

Gavin’s lips twisted into a deep frown. “Doesn’t he have an assistant for all this? All these late night hours and for what?” 

Mia crossed her arms, a confused look highlighting her face as if realizing this was becoming an issue. 

“Gavin, his assistant can’t do what I can.” 

“I bet they can’t…” Gavin mumbled. There was a part of him that hoped she didn’t hear him, but luck was not on his side. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Her eyes narrowed. He debated for a split second on saying anything, wondering if it made sense to disclose what’s been plaguing his mind for weeks.  

“It doesn’t matter. Not like things are going to change anyway.” He tried to walk past her, the couch in the living room calling out to him like it was a safe haven, but she blocked his path. He should’ve known her stubbornness wasn’t going to let this go. 

“What’s the problem? Your attitude changes the minute I start talking about work and suddenly you want to brush thi-” 

“The problem is, you’ve been spending so much time at work that I can’t help but think that…” Gavin stopped himself. What exactly did he think? He never really thought it out completely. 

It didn’t take Mia long to figure out what he was implying. Her expression turned serious as she took a few steps back to look at him.

“That what? That I’m cheating on you with my boss?” When she spoke it was like pounds of guilt fell on top of him. Just the idea of his Mia being in the arms of some well-off pompous jerk pissed him off, but what did that say about Mia? Not once did Gavin think so lowly of Mia to do such a thing, but it would take two to tango. However, he would never….fuck… This wasn’t Gavin’s intention at all.  

“I-I didn’t say that.” 

“No, but that’s what you’re thinking. You’ve been thinking that I’d rather spend my nights screwing my boss than being with my boyfriend who, let us not forget, spends days or sometimes weeks at a time away from home.” 

She had a point there, but it wasn’t his fault that his job was so demanding.

“Mia, that’s not fair. I-” Poor choice of words. Gavin could see the building anger in Mia’s eyes. 

“Fair? You want to talk about fair? Every time you left on some dangerous mission, not once did I ever think that another person would come along and take you away from me. Some bad guy with a thirst for violence, maybe. Or someone with itchy trigger fingers get..getting you right between…the eyes.” Her voice broke towards the end and it was at that moment Gavin realized just how much of an idiot he was. 

If there was one thing he hated in this world it was to see Mia cry and to know that he was the reason for her tears, absolutely devastated him. He reached out to touch her to let her know that it wasn't his intention to hurt her like this, but she immediately pulled away. His hand shrinked back to his side.

“Since we’ve been living together, I’ve spent countless nights in bed alone, worried out of my mind because the person I love more than anything was out there risking his life almost everyday! But I supported you and I will always support you… Why? Because I love you. I love you so damn much! And for you to…to even insinuate that I would ever…” The tears she had fought back now streamed down her cheeks, her lips quivering and face fighting to stop itself from contorting into something that would rip Gavin’s heart a part. 

“Mia…” He tried again, but she held up a hand to stop him. 

“I’m going to bed.” Her voice was monotonous as if all the life had been sucked out of her. She turned away from him, marching right into their shared bedroom. The door closed with a soft click. Not even a slam. This was bad. 

Gavin was left standing there unsure of what to do. Maybe waiting until tomorrow to talk was a better idea. He could take the couch to give her space, but Gavin knew in his heart that he couldn’t let this sit until morning. He didn’t like the idea of going to bed with issues unresolved and he sure as hell didn’t like knowing that Mia was crying her eyes out because of how much of an idiot he was. 

He had to make this right. 

When Gavin entered the room he found Mia curled up in bed, her back facing the door. The sound of her sniffles were so hard to hear and he had no one to blame but himself for that.

Carefully, he got into bed and slowly inched his way over to her side. When she made no effort to move away he took it as an opportunity to hold her, not too tight in case she wanted to get away from him, but tight enough for her to know that he wasn’t going anywhere. He honestly didn’t think he’d make it this far, but he wasn’t going to count his blessings just yet. 

As the seconds ticked by Gavin grew hesitant in the deafening silence, unsure of how to express his sincerest apology. Expressing himself through words really wasn’t his strong suit, but he had to try. 

With a soft sigh he began speaking. 

“Mia, I’m sorry…I…” He paused, trying to piece together the right words. 

“I didn’t mean to accuse you of anything. I swear to you that I would never suggest that you would ever do something like that. I…” He stopped himself for a second and tightened his hold on her, burying his face in her hair. He inhaled and let out a shaky breath before continuing.

“I should’ve realized that this is just as hard on you as it is on me and I know I’m a complete asshole and I just…I just want to be good enough for you. I want to do everything I can to make you happy and I don’t want to screw this up. Having you in my life means more to me than you’ll ever know and I know I don’t show it often, but I’m grateful that you’re with me. I really am. I don’t want this to be what separates us. So please…talk to me.” There was so much more he wanted to say, but if he continued any further he was sure he’d be a rambling mess. 

Mia shifted slightly in his hold before abruptly sitting up and looking at him with puffy red eyes. It took everything in his power for Gavin to not reach out to touch her for fear that it would make matters worse. 

He made an effort to sit up with her, but was immediately stopped by Mia burying her face into his chest. Gavin laid there stunned for a brief moment before finally putting his arms around her. 

“You’re an idiot.” He heard her muffled words and released a breath he didn’t know he was holding. This was a step in the right direction. 

“I know…” He chuckled bitterly.

Mia sighed heavily and looked up at him. Gavin took this as an opportunity to gently stroke her cheek, wiping away the stray tears. Mia leaned into his touch impulsively. 

“I need you to trust me like I trust you.” Her voice was hoarse but firm. 

“I do! I trust you with everything! With my life and with...with my heart.” It was true. He’d trust Mia with his very soul if it were possible. 

“Then trust me when I say you’re all I’ve ever wanted and this life we share together is one I would never give up for anything in the world. You’re all I need. And if I’m doing something that ever makes you feel less than enough then I need you to tell me.” 

He was ready to refute her words, wanting to assure her that she could never make him feel that way, but she wasn’t going to let that happen.

“Promise me.” She said sternly.

“I promise.” 

She seemed pleased with his answer and lightly brushed her lips against his. Not exactly giving him the satisfaction of feeling her lips against his own, but Gavin was in no position to complain. 

“I’m still mad at you…” She repeated her affectionate touch this time giving him a firm but quick kiss. 

“That’s okay. I deserve it.” Another kiss lasting seconds longer than the first. Mia skillfully slid her hand under his shirt, the pads of her fingertips immediately coming into contact with his toned abs. It was clear exactly what she wanted and who was Gavin to deny the unspoken request? 

“You do.” 

This time it was he who initiated the kiss, their lips molding together perfectly. 

It was only a matter of time before Gavin had her under him, clothes discarded, their bodies finally surrounding themselves in each other's warmth. Gavin lost count of how many kisses he left along Mia’s beautiful body, but no matter the number he wanted her to know-to feel how much he wanted to worship her. 

His calloused hands glided along every dip and curve, already having his favorites spots etched to memory. His lips latched onto one of her nipples lightly sucking on the sensitive bud. Mia instinctively arched her back wanting more of her lover’s ministrations. 

Gavin teasingly tugged on her hardened nipple with his teeth, which earned him a surprised gasp, before kissing down her torso. Lower and lower his lips went until he found himself in between her legs. 

He was so close. 

The heat radiating from her was so inviting, like it was a place he could see himself nuzzled up against for the rest of his days in pure comfort. To be perfectly honest, if he could spend the rest of his life with his face buried between her legs he’d never complain and take on the task of pleasuring her as an honor. 

Mia’s hands gripped his hair gently, tugging at his messy tresses, coaxing him to continue. 

That was all he needed to descend upon her waiting heat like a man yearning for the only thing that could quench his thirst. 

He firmly gripped her hips to keep her still as he gingerly sucked on her clit. Mia tried to roll her hips begging for more contact but his hold on her made it difficult. He was hellbent on selfishly having his fill undisturbed.

With the flick of his tongue she sang for him a tune so lewd, so intoxicating, so mesmerizing, he couldn’t help but want to hear more. 

“Gav, I…I-ah!” Her thighs closed around his head, trapping him as if he would ever escape. He could practically taste how close she was. 

She was trembling. 

So close. 

“Ba-baby…” She moaned for him.

He groaned into her as a response, his focus never leaving his meal. Seconds later he felt her hand rest upon the top of his head, pushing him away. But why? Was she really going to deny him the pleasure of making her reach an orgasm? Was this punishment?

He rose from his position and blinked back a questionable look. He must’ve looked so disheveled with his face covered in her juices and hair tossed in different directions, but he honestly didn’t care. He was starving. He needed to have her. 

Mia sat up and beckoned for him to come forward with a finger, drawing him into a kiss so passionate it almost left him breathless. 

“Let me ride you…” She whispered against his lips. 

Gavin could barely think to answer; he was more focused on her hand that snuck their way down his chest inching closer and closer to his throbbing shaft. 

“But this is about yo-” His breath hitched at the feeling of Mia’s hands firmly gripping his cock. She stroked him once before giving him a chaste kiss. 

“Exactly and I…wanna ride you.”

She was toying with him now and like a lovestruck puppy he let her. 

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AND SCENE! What did you guys think? I really hope everyone likes the story! If you would like to commission me please send me a message and we can talk! If you want to read more of my MLQC stuff please check out my masterpost! 

[officialscaramouche]

Hanahaki — a gift for @ambers-glider

Pairing: Scaramouche x Gn!Reader

Summary: Scaramouche caught a love sickness that could only be cured by mutual love.

AN: please read @ambers-glider ‘s part one and two before reading this so that it makes sense :)

Warnings: language

Word count: 1,691

Scaramouche felt bad for you. It was by pure coincidence that he saw you when you caught sight of Victor and his girlfriend. He saw the way your face dropped when she clung to his arm and he sympathized for you. But it was your fault anyway. Everyone knew Victor had a girlfriend, but since you were always cooped up in your office I guess it couldn’t be helped.

Noticing the way your personality had changed, Scaramouche actually kind of liked it. You weren’t annoyingly upbeat and overly friendly like before, so he found himself visiting your office more. He enjoyed the silence the two of you shared, even if he wasn’t always welcomed.

Childe would unfortunately come in every now and then to check in on you especially after finding out that Scaramouche often hung out in your office. And when he did, the two of you would talk briefly about mindless things. Scaramouche didn’t understand why it mattered to talk about stupid things like the weather, or what you were having for lunch.

Scaramouche walked into your room a little more forcefully than normal. At first he didn’t say anything, especially after you told him you wanted to be alone. But after sitting on the couch there for a while, reading the book he brought to work, he broke the silence. “What are your plans for today?” He asked casually, not taking his eyes off his book.

You looked at him incredulously. Was he seriously trying to have small talk with you? “...Nothing. After work, I have to do laundry.”

It was silent once more, this time a bit more awkward than it usually was. He shut his book and hummed, standing to stare at you from the other side of your desk. “Would you like to join me at Third Round Knockout?”

You leaned back in your chair to look up at him closely. What was his deal? What point does he want to make with bothering you for lunch? At least he asked you now, after getting over your sickness, rather than before when you would’ve jumped at the idea. You couldn’t deny your curiosity, however. “Are you paying?”

Scaramouche scowled. “I guess I am.”

It was weird sitting at an intimately small table with your boss. But it also had been a while since anyone had taken you out. Scaramouche didn’t eat out much, but it was your favorite restaurant. He asked for your opinion on some foods, but once the waiter took your orders, it was challenging to find something to talk about. You stared out a window until he finally broke the silence. “It’s good that you’re feeling better,” he said plainly.

“Thanks, I guess,” you responded curtly.

The both of you decided that instead of forcing conversation, you’d just sit in uncomfortable silence. After a while, Scaramouche coughed awkwardly into a fist and excused himself from the table. On the way there, the itch in his throat began to grow itchier and itchier until he slammed the bathroom door open and hung his head over the sink, his fingers grasping desperately at the edges. He scratched at his throat as he continued to hack, tears beginning to well in his eyes as he struggled to find relief in his coughs. Finally, whatever was caught in his throat came up and he spat it into the sink, the purple petal coated in his saliva falling helplessly before him. “You’ve gotta be fucking with me— ackh!” His cough grew more and more persistent as petals came spilling from his lips. He slapped his hands onto his cheeks and screamed. “What the fuck!!”

His shout was heard by the entire restaurant. People looked around nervously, some of them at you remembering that he was with you. You laughed in embarrassment, tentatively walking to the bathrooms to make sure he was okay.

A couple of men scrambled out of the restroom as you approached, making side comments about Scaramouche. “What the hell is his problem?” One of them mutters.

You knock before entering, announcing yourself as you push the door open. “Sir, it’s me, are you okay?”

He stared at himself in the mirror, hunched over the sink, with spit dribbling down his chin. “Get out.” He spits, a couple of weak coughs puffing out of his cheeks.

“Oh,” you breathe, noticing the sink full of petals. “Oh, sir I’m sorry,” you walk over to him and begin washing the petals down the sink. “We need to get you looked at quickly!”

“No!” He shoved you away, hating to admit that his heart was pounding when your hands held his shoulders. “I don’t want to be fucking operated on!”

“It’s okay!” You reassure, pulling him up from the sink. “The reason why...I was so upset about Victor is because he made me fall in love with him. To get over someone else…” Scaramouche closed his eyes to focus on curving the coughs. ...And to listen to your voice. “I know I’m not the best to look at, but I can try to help.”

Scaramouche couldn’t help but to smile at your innocence. How were you going to help? You were the problem! “...You’re right you’re not attractive at all.” You furrowed your brows and put your hands to your hips. He laughed at your expression. “Fine. You can try to help me.”

He was setting himself up for failure, he knew that. But seeing you try so hard to figure out the type of person he liked was amusing to him. One day you were doting, cooking for him and making sure he drank water. But then the next you were neglectful, thinking that maybe he didn’t like someone who doted on him. You tried being clingy, you tried playing hard to get. You tried cleaning his house, you tried making it filthy. Nothing seemed to be working since he coughed up more and more petals everyday, but as he lay there feeling the life drain out of him with every cough, he seemed to feel pretty happy in his final days.

Soon enough, he was too weak to even open his eyes. You tucked the blanket snugly around him and exchanged the cool towel on his forehead. “Please let me tell Childe,” you whispered.

He scowled, amazingly mustering enough energy to do so, and coughed. “No,” he said weakly. “I don’t want— ackh— anyone to cut me open.”

“I’ll cut you open myself!” You joked, pulling at the shirt he wore.

“I’d let you,” he smiled. He figured that if he was to die today, he might as well tell you how he felt. “You’re so dumb, [Y/N]. But that’s what I like about you. You work so hard no matter what you’re doing. Whether it’s paperwork or watching over me...you give it your all.” You blinked at him, trying to process his words. “Maybe if I had been a little nicer to you...I wouldn’t be lying here dying. Maybe we’d actually have been in love.”

“What are you saying?” You ask dumbfoundedly, your hands shaking where they lay on the bed.

“These stupid petals, [Y/N], they’re for you.”

It took you a moment to understand what he was saying so clearly as day. The man you had nearly died for, now lay dying for you. You spent almost two months suffering because he had not cared about you and now he spent these last two months suffering. But you suffered alone. This time, Scaramouche was suffering with you right by his side.

“I...I don’t know what to say.” You said finally.

Scaramouche turned over to lay on his side, facing his back toward you. “That’s alright. You don’t have to say anything. I just wanted to let you know, that way I would die without regret.”

“No, sir, you don’t understand.” You swallowed the lump in your throat to muster up the courage.

Scaramouche began to feel relief as he lay there. These are my last few minutes, he thought to himself. His body grew too weak to cough. At least, he figured, he’d die without coughing his lungs out.

You fiddle with your fingers and hyped yourself up to admit why you were sick in the first place. “Scaramouche...the reason I was sick...was because I loved you.”

Scaramouche was too weak to cough. So he should’ve been too weak to sit up. He sat up with such vigor, turning to look at you. He had been laying in bed for four days now, unable to sit up. Yet here he was, looking at you. The itch in his throat ceased. He didn’t stop coughing because he was weak. He stopped coughing because you returned his feelings.

Soon, the pink in his lips began to reappear. The color in his cheeks flushed, and his body aches seemingly disappeared. He tentatively reached forward, afraid that he had died and gone to celestia. This was a dream, this wasn’t real.

He cupped your cheek and caressed the skin there with his thumb. You held the hand on your face and leaned into the contact. All these months you had been suppressing your love for Scaramouche.

You didn’t want to be sick again. You forced your love onto Victor and latched on intensely so as to move on. But you didn’t know that while you were loving Victor, Scaramouche had been loving you. Watching you laugh and cling to Victor made him jealous. Jealous and possessive. When you recovered he wanted to spend as much time with you as he could. He wanted to learn more about you, talk to you, see the smile you used to give Victor. He wanted to see that smile and he wanted to make you his.

“You love me?” He asked barely over a whisper.

“I don't know why, but yes,” you joked with a laugh, a bright smile spread across your lips.

Scaramouche smiled too, albeit very little, but still a smile. The harbinger, and now your new boyfriend, promised himself that he’d protect that smile. Especially from Victor. “Good. You’re all mine.”

[envihellbender]

“Oh god, please don’t be dead. Please don’t be dead.” + Oswald/Victor

Fandom: Gotham

Characters: Oswald Cobblepot, Victor Zsasz

Victor was elated and calm when he left the docks, he’d found an empty warehouse to dump his latest victim. He couldn’t be bothered to do anything too special with her, she was just a quick fix as far as he was concerned. He switched his phone back on, and wasn’t surprised when he was greeted with missed calls and the text messages from Oswald. He’d been far too on edge when Victor left to meet his latest target.

He quickly flicked through them. They ranged from: When are you coming home to Are you done yet to a simple ???????? With an added When will you be back ??? Then there was a jealous: You can’t still be with her, followed by a Where the hell are you. Eventually Oswald turned demanding: Home. Now. And somewhere along the night he’d started to panic and sent: Please be safe please be safe, Oh god… Please don’t be dead, and finally: Please please please don’t be dead.

Victor typed in “calm down coming back now” and sighed as he clicked send. He hated that Oswald’s phone was so old, he enjoyed the immediate gratification of seeing if someone was typing. He slipped it back into his coat pocket and headed back home. He wondered what he’d come back to, Oswald was either drunk or a manic episode had occurred. The type where Oswald was intensely anxious and paranoid. Hopefully it would just be the alcohol, Victor thought, he hated Oswald’s habit but it would be gone by the morning at least.

As soon as Victor opened the front door he grimaced, he could smell it. The sour, bitter taste of red wine. It made his stomach turn and his brain try to remember things he did not want to remember. In the living room he found Oswald slumped over on the sofa with a large, almost full to the brim as he sipped it, glass.

“Honey, I’m home,” Victor joked from the doorway, Oswald flinched at the sudden noise and spilled wine over his arm and the carpet.

“Victor!” Oswald all but shouted, he clumsily got to his feet without his cane. He stumbled but caught himself on the sofa arm. “Where the hell have you been? What happened- why are you? What time is it?” He rambled groggily.

“Had a date. It’s 2am,” Victor shrugged. “Wanna maybe go easy on the booze, Os?” Victor slipped his coat from his shoulders and fell into a nearby armchair. He’s dressed far more casually then he does when on duty for Oswald in a t-shirt and jeans. Still black of course, excluding the blood stains. On his forearm is a freshly cut tally mark, screaming his night’s activities to anyone who saw him. Oswald’s hazel eyes fixated on it for a moment, staring at the deep, weeping cut. He picked up his glass and took a large gulp, he drank so much he grew dizzy. He pulled the glass away, spilling some wine down his chin and white shirt. He looked at it with a third left in it and threw it at the wall. Victor didn’t react to the smashing sound but raised his eyebrows at the red stain on the wall.

“That’s gonna be hard to get out.”

“I don’t care.”

“You will tomorrow.”

“Maybe I’ll just keep drinking then,” Oswald snapped. Victor’s eyes hardened and he stared as Oswald picked up the wine bottle and raised it to his lips.

“Put. It. Down.” Victor’s voice was sharp and fierce. It was so cold Oswald felt as if he’d just been slashed across the face with a broken bottle. He’d heard that voice before, it was the one Victor saved for his victims, or for fellow criminals who weren’t behaving. It wasn’t for Oswald, it wasn’t ever for Oswald. He swallowed and placed the bottle back on the table. Victor softened, his tense body relaxed, and he sighed in relief. He put his head back and closed his eyes. “Did you really think I was dead?”

“I… I don’t know. I pictured you under a car. With a bullet in your head. In a cell. With that woman. Maybe she fought back. I don’t know. Ugh. My head wouldn’t stop.”

“Wow, you think so highly of me. Do you really think I’d have been so easy to take out?”

“I didn’t say that,” Oswald whined. “I just… you’re mine. I don’t like letting go of you. I don’t like not having you near me. I don’t like other people touching you. I don’t like seeing you leave.”

“Well, that’s hot, actually,” Victor said, managing to break the tension. “You know, I can’t stop. You know that, right? If I don’t kill for so long-”

“I know. It’s fine. Once you’re back it’s fine. Sometimes I don’t care when you’re gone. You fuck them, then you kill them. Problem solved. But… I sometimes I get… like this,” Oswald rambled, his eyes started to get unfocused and half lidded as he swayed back and forth.

“Bed time,” Victor said jumping to his feet. He scrunched his nose as he approached Oswald, breathing through his mouth as he helped him to his feet.

“Just… don’t die, okay? Or leave me. Right?” He asked, he stumbled again and Victor picked him up into a bridal carry. Oswald buried his face into Victor’s chest, smirking as he smelt the familiar sweets and hospitals, with the added iron of blood.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

[irenespring]

District Two Victor Sims

@lorata​ I made some sims of your Victors! I don’t have a ton of CC clothes so there were limited options but I think they’re pretty good. I’m going to put them in order of most recent to oldest. I hope you like them!

Outfits order: everyday, formal, sports, sleep, party, swimsuit, hot weather, cold weather

Petra:

Traits: Hot-headed, active, perfectionist

Aspiration: Leader of the Pack

Notes: She doesn’t dress overly feminine but she thinks Lyme is overdoing a little (*cough* a lot *cough*). She hates that pink dress but what the Capitol wants, the Capitol gets. She’s not hot-headed, she just doesn’t take shit. What’s so difficult to understand about that? Whatever.

Claudius:

Traits: Gloomy, creative, music lover

Aspiration: Musical genius

Lyme gave him one of her suits (after she had it tailored to fit him). It was kind of the best day of his life. Misha is a liar, he did not cry for 12 hours straight... more like .5 hours. And that’s just fine, and if you want to say otherwise just give him a moment to go grab his sword.

Enobaria:

Traits: Mean, erratic, self-absorbed

Aspiration: Public enemy

When she’s at home, she wants to wear as close to a blanket nest as she’s allowed. When she’s not... well, she’s got abs and likes to inspire envy. Also the more Capitol guys ask her out, the more fun it is to shoot them down and/or threaten to kill them.

Devon:

Traits: Outgoing, romantic, goofball

Aspiration: Friend of the world

One of his favorite things about being a Victor that he didn’t expect was getting to experiment with different styles. But the swimsuit is pure strategy for when he doesn’t feel like talking but still wants to get laid.

Artemisia:

Traits: Mean, romantic, goofball

Aspiration: Chief of mischief

Only idiots rely on one style (except for Lyme, like is scary and masculine and awesome), because honestly it’s just *so* boring. She can do ball gowns, she can do bikinis, she can do casual “I will never leave this couch” sweaters. It’s not hard, but maybe she’s just special (she’s definitely special).

Lyme:

Traits: Good, self-assured, hates children

Aspiration: Neighborhood confidante

Dresses are ick and bright colors give her headaches. Besides, if someone is judging her for her style she doesn’t want to know them anyway. Shallow assholes. 

“Brutus stole my sponsor party outfit. It was mine, and he was so jealous of the pure masculine energy that he decided to steal it and lie about it like a little baby coward. The only thing stopping me from covering the village with fliers is that Ronan would be annoyed and Misha never cares about context.”

Emory:

Traits: Unflirty, good, loves the outdoors

Aspiration: Master chef

If something tears and it can’t be mended, it has to be replaced. And if you spill something on your shirt you can’t just show up to a nice event like a Twelve. Also, apparently you can’t wear tennis shoes to everything. Therefore, multiple outfits.

Brutus:

Traits: Self-assured, outgoing, loves the outdoors.

Aspiration: Bodybuilder (sorry for the copout I was stumped)

Fancy clothes are for Capitolites so he only wears them when he’s in the Capitol. Everything else just needs to suitable for sudden pushup competitions with Lyme whenever she gets any ideas.

Speaking of:

“I did not steal Lyme’s outfit. I bought it in the Capitol. Devon was there. Yes, you were, Devon. I don’t know if it’s the one with the ‘cute cashier’ because I was too busy buying MY outfit. Listen, Lyme, if you burn yours I’ll burn mine because we’ll never live it down if the paparazzi... or Snow forbid, Misha, finds out about this. No that is not an admission of guilt. One of us has to be an adult, and it’s obviously not going to be you.”

Callista:

Traits: Non-committal, animal enthusiast, romantic

Aspiration: Serial romantic

If it doesn’t make half the Capitol scared and the other half turned on, it’s not worth the money.

Nero:

Traits: Insider, maker, good

Aspiration: Neighborhood confidante

He’s just going to wear the first thing he sees that looks comfortable unless Snow orders him not to, and if you say anything Adessa and Callista will use your remains as rose fertilizer and cat food respectively.

Odin:

Traits: Self-assured, bookworm, perfectionist

Aspiration: Freelance Botanist

He could still be intimidating and terrifying if he wanted to, it’s just that these days he mostly wants to garden instead.

Hera:

Traits: Outgoing, creative, loves the outdoors

Aspiration: The curator (chosen by near random selection)

She let her hair go gray because none of your business. And she wears nicer clothes because she loves her Victor, she does, but dear Snow, Calli, some of us have to wear actual fabric on our bodies.

Adessa:

Traits: Loner, snob, perfectionist

Aspiration: Academic

“No, these suits are not all the same, some of them are clearly blue.”

Caius (pure guesswork 1)

Traits: Outgoing, goofball, cheerful

Aspiration: Angling ace (?)

He likes to be refined every now and then, but he hardly ever goes to the Capitol and it’s not like he’s going to be in a magazine if he wears the wrong glasses, so who cares?

Luna (pure guesswork 2)

Traits: Art lover, gloomy, creative

Aspiration: Painter extraordinaire

What is life without a little quirkiness and color? Just because you’re a Victor doesn’t mean you have to be self-righteous and drab.

Ronan:

Traits: Insider, outgoing, loves the outdoors

Aspiration: Successful Lineage

Notes: He’s retired. He’ll wear what is comfortable and what he can get dog hair out of.

[bex-la-get]

Hi! I'm new to tumblr and... can I request a fic where Ethan is the one who ask questions to Nat to test the new fMRI scan, but it is set on book 2 instead. Thank you and I admire your writings!

NONNY!!! I absolutely love this!!! I'm gonna say this takes place in mid-Book 2-ish.

K, before we start, I just wanna throw a disclaimer out there: my memory of Book 2 is fuzzy which means mistakes are likely. Sorry in advance if I get something wrong. Also, I'm not a medical professional, so any mistakes made are my own. Thank you.

Okay, let's go!!

Nat sat on the couch of the Diagnostics Office, absent-mindedly staring out the window and chewing on her lower lip. The last few weeks had been exhausting. Between the news that Edenbrook had lost its funding, Kyra's diagnosis, and the stress of being a Junior Fellow on the DT, it was all beginning to feel like it was too much. She wasn't sure how much more she could take at this point.

"Hey, you okay?" a voice asked.

She turned to the source and found Ethan looking at her, eyebrows furrowed in concern. She hadn't even heard him come in. She sat up straight. "Yeah, sorry; just needed to take a break."

"Nat," he said, coming to sit next to her. "It's okay if you're not. You don't have to be 'okay' all the time."

She sighed. "I know."

"What's going on?"

Nat shook her head. "Just... feeling a little overwhelmed is all. With everything going on as it is, it just kind of feels like a little too much."

Ethan nodded sympathetically. "I understand. The last few weeks have been... challenging, to say the least." Nat nodded in agreement and he gently ran his fingers along the back of her hand. "I wish I could offer you words of wisdom or at least better advice." He said, smiling sheepishly.

She gave him a small smile. "Just being here for me is enough. Thank you."

He returned her smile and linked his pinky with hers, giving it a tight squeeze. "I don't know if it will provide the distraction you need, but I could use your help with something if you have a few minutes?" Nat nodded. "The fMRI machine went on the fritz about a week ago and I was just told that it's back in working order. I'd like to test it out and make sure that it really is working normally. Care to help me out?"

"Sure," Nat said, "but only if you ask the questions this time. It's only fair since I did it last time."

Ethan chuckled and nodded. "Deal."

The two of them made their way to the imaging lab, set Nat up within the machine, then Ethan made his way into the control room. "Can you hear me?" he asked.

"Loud and clear, boss," Nat replied.

"Good. I presume you remember the drill from last year. I'll ask you some questions and see how your brain responds as you answer."

"Sounds good."

"All right. First question: What is your middle name?"

Nat scoffed over the speakers. "That's your first question?"

"What's wrong with the question?"

"It's boring. I distinctly remember asking you some scandalous questions."

Ethan rolled his eyes. "Just answer the question, Rookie."

"Fine. Paige."

Ethan pursed his lips. Natalie Paige Cusack. Very pretty. Very her. Tucking this new knowledge into the back of his head he nodded as the scanner showing her brain lit up.

"All right. Next question: do you have any siblings?"

"Ethan, these are questions you can ask me in casual conversation," Nat protested. "Ask me something fun! I thought the point of this was to provide me a distraction, after all."

Ethan chuckled and shook his head. "Fine, answer this question while I think of something fun to ask you."

"Deal! In answer to your question, yes. I have an older brother named Victor but everyone calls him Vic. The only time I call him Victor is when he's in trouble."

"And just how often is he in trouble?" Ethan asked, amused. Nat's hippocampus lit up as she thought of her answer and he raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

"When we were kids? All the time," she answered, giggling. "As an adult, less often. Though it still happens."

Ethan chuckled and nodded. "All right. Per your request, here's a fun question. What's an embarrassing story from your childhood?"

"Oooh, you went right for the jugular. Respect. I like it. Okay, um... have I ever told you the goblin story?"

"The goblin story?"

She laughed. "Oh, man! You're gonna love this. Okay, so when I was little, I had a pretty big nose. I grew into it as I got older, but when I was little, it wasn't proportional to my face at all." Ethan listened to the story with an amused smile on his face as the scan showed her pregenual anterior cingulate cortex light up during her story.

"One night," she continued, "I stupidly fell asleep with gum in my mouth and woke up with it all in my hair. It was a nightmare."

"Oh no," Ethan said.

"Yep," Nat confirmed. "It was so bad that the only thing we could do was cut as much out of it as possible, which left me with this terrible haircut that, low-key, had me looking like I had been electrified.

"Anyway, Vic's knee-jerk response at seeing me with my short hair and big nose was to promptly call me goblin. And the stupid nickname stuck! He still calls me it even though it was over twenty years ago!" She paused in her storytelling, expecting to hear a response but heard nothing instead. "Ethan? Are you there? You better not have left!"

The speakers turned on and all she heard was his laughter. "Are you laughing?! Ethan!"

Ethan tried to speak through his laughter. "I'm sorry, I sympathize, really." He laughed again and Nat rolled her eyes.

"You are the worst, you know that?" she told him.

"Sorry Nat," he said, finally getting his laughter under control. "I'm sure you made a very cute goblin."

Nat rolled her eyes. "Ugh, just ask your next question, Ramsey."

He chuckled again and thought for a moment when a question appeared in the back of his mind. Rationally, he knew he shouldn't ask it. It wasn't exactly professional and went against the reset rule he initiated.

But he had enjoyed getting to know more about Nat and he was curious. “Tell me about your first kiss.”

“Trying to figure out how I got such high standards?” she joked.

He rolled his eyes. “I’m trying to trigger an emotional response in your brain. Go.”

She giggled. “Hmm.. first kiss. Um, it was my first boyfriend, Matt. I was a Freshman in high school and he kissed me during the slow dance at our Homecoming dance.”

Her limbic system lit up on the scanner. “Sounds romantic,” he mused, pushing down the surge of jealousy he felt at the thought Nat kissing another man, even if it had been when she was significantly younger.

“Mm, not really. He wasn’t really good at it. He was kind of slobbery, if I’m being honest.”

Ethan scrunched up his face. “Gross.”

“Very,” she confirmed.

“Last question,” he said. He knew this was approaching risky territory but damn it, if Nat didn’t make him want to throw every one of his morals and rules right out the window. And, if he were honest... he really wanted to hear the answer to this question. “What was the best kiss you’ve ever had?”

“Hmm...” she hummed in thought for a long moment, Ethan’s heart pounding as he waited for her reply. Finally, she spoke. “New Year’s Eve, 2017.”

Ethan’s heart sunk. “Oh? Why then?”

“My ex-boyfriend was moving. He had accepted a position at one of the National Labs in New Mexico and I knew I was staying on the East Coast so we split. When the Ball dropped at midnight, he gave me a goodbye kiss. Then he got in a moving van the next day and moved across the country.”

Her amygdala lit up like a Christmas Tree and Ethan frowned. Clearly that memory was still fresh for her. “That’s enough questions, Nat. I think we’ve done our job here.” 

Ethan stopped the machine and met Nat back in the lab as she stood up. Ethan had been prepared for Nat to be sad after that last story but instead, he found her smiling up at him. “That was fun. I needed that.”

“You needed to be put into a giant metal machine and have your brain looked at?” Ethan asked.

She lightly hit his shoulder. “You know that’s not what I mean.” Her smile grew, making Ethan’s heart skip a beat. “Thank you, Ethan. I appreciate the distraction.”

“I’m glad it helped,” he said, returning her smile.

“Well, I better go make my rounds,” she said as she began to make her way out of the lab. 

“Hey, Nat,” Ethan called. In a flash, he grabbed her hand, pulled her back to him, and cupped her face with his hands, giving her a searing kiss. Nat made a quiet noise of surprise at Ethan’s gesture but quickly melted into the kiss, her lips matching his fervor. His hands moved from her face to her waist as he pulled her impossibly closer, her arms circling around his neck as if to hold him in place. 

Neither knew how long they stood there. It could have been hours, days, even years. It didn’t matter; they didn’t care. In that moment, all they cared about was each other and they both hoped that the moment, however long it may have been, never ended.

But alas, eventually they broke apart at the sound of Nat’s pager beeping. Their lips separated, but neither moved very far apart, as they both fought to catch their breath. Ethan’s eyes were still closed, his forehead resting against hers as Nat opened her eyes. She nuzzled her nose against his and sucked in a breath when his blue eyes opened, locking with hers.

“What was all that for?” she asked in a whisper. 

He smiled sheepishly. “I may have taken slight offence as not being your best kiss ever.”

She pulled away slightly to look at him better, a giggle on her lips. “Did you get jealous after hearing about my ex?”

“No,” he retorted, defensively.

This time, she laughed. “You did! I can’t believe it, Ethan Ramsey got jealous. I didn’t think you had it in you.”

He rolled his eyes. “You’re never going to let this go, are you?”

“Nope,” she confirmed. She leaned in close again and placed another chaste kiss on his lips. “But don’t worry, Ethan. You have nothing to worry about.” She pulled out of their embrace as her pager beeped again (thankfully it was just a notification that her latest lab test results were in and not an emergency). “I’ve had some much better kisses since then. One of them, in this very room.”

Ethan smirked. “Glad to hear I made the running.”

She returned his smirk. “You also might be interested to know, I was lying. That New Year’s kiss was best kiss I’ve ever had. But it was beat by a mysterious tall doctor on a balcony in Miami last year. You might remember him; he was a bit of a risk taker, that one.”

He chuckled. “He sounds familiar, I admit.”

“I hope he comes back,” she said as she made her way out of the room. “His kisses are mind-blowing.” She winked at him as she finished her statement then sauntered out of the room, leaving a smirking Ethan, shaking his head, behind.

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[wandaluvstacos]

THE ONLY SECONDS THAT MATTER

CHAPTER NINETEEN IS UP!

Genre: Contemporary Romance Rating: 18+

Includes: Extensive horse nerdery + cowboys, mxm romance (1 trans + 1 cis), some discussion child abuse, some instances of trans/homophobia (it is rural Oklahoma, y'all), depression, occasional sex scene (but it’s a slow burn for sure)

Victor Ortiz-Bennett had some reservations about moving to Oklahoma, but his late aunt willed him a 70-acre horse farm, and he decides to fulfill his dream of running and operating his own training facility. Victor’s been around the reining horse show circuit for a while, and he’s ready to settle down, travel less, and spend more time with the horses he loves and away from the people he can do without. That is, until he picks up a horse at an auction with a bucking problem he can’t fix, and he has to take her to the one guy who can ride anything– Johnny Stearns, a retired professional rodeo rider.

Johnny Stearns is loud, chatty, eccentric, and fears nothing, exactly Victor’s opposite. However, Victor finds himself sinking into an odd friendship with this new foul-mouthed cowboy without a filter, diving deeper into the mess that is Johnny’s life until there’s no way to extract himself from it. Johnny may talk a tough game, but there’s more to him than he’ll let most people see. Victor knows getting in too deep will mean a rough ride, but if there’s anything Johnny’s taught him, it’s how to stay in the saddle.

Excerpt:

Victor pushed past Daisy and made a beeline straight for the exit. He’d made it out to his truck in the parking lot when he heard someone call his name. He considered ignoring it, but he stopped with one leg resting inside the truck and turned to the figure bathed in shadow approaching him.

“Vic,” Johnny repeated, more softly this time, pulling up within speaking distance but no closer. “What’re you doin’ here?”

“Eating dinner,” Victor replied flatly. “Pretty sure that’s what you do at a restaurant.”

“By yourself?”

“It was Jade’s birthday.”

“Oh.” Johnny glanced away, clearing his throat. “Listen, about Daisy—”

“Honestly, Johnny?” Victor interjected. “I don’t want to know.” He moved to pull himself up into the truck.

“It ain’t nothin’ serious,” Johnny argued quickly, taking a step forward. “Sobriety has been real hard for me, and I guess I been needin’ a distraction. I know she’s not—she hurt me before, o’ course but—”

Victor sucked in a sharp breath, resisting the urge to reach out, grab Johnny by the front of the shirt, and shake him until his keys and wallet fell out of his pockets. The man was as stupid as he was infuriating. “So you won’t consider a relationship with me but you’ll run back to a woman that cheated on you several times.” Victor let out an dismissive scoff. “Whatever, Johnny. Have fun pretending you’re heterosexual. Hope it’s all you’ve ever dreamed.”

Victor hopped up into the driver’s seat and moved to close the door. Johnny threw out a hand to catch it. For a second Victor struggled to rein in his rage and hurt, and Johnny must have seen it in his eyes, because he had the decency to look apologetic.

“This ain’t easy for me,” Johnny said, voice hushed. “You saw how I was livin’. I’m tryin’ to get my mind right, and Daisy’s been—this ain’t because I don’t—” He clenched his eyes shut a moment, like he was trying to pull himself together. “You don’t gotta be jealous. About Daisy, I mean. It’s not serious.”

“That is more offensive to me than if it was,” Victor shot back. “Clearly commitment is not your thing.”

“Goddamn it, Vic. I ain’t doin’ this to offend ya. I’m just tryin’ to keep from goin’ insane. You told me you didn���t wanna do anythin’ casual, so…” He trailed off, shrugging a shoulder. “Daisy’s the one who made the first move. She’s pushy about what she wants.”

“Oh right, you had absolutely no say in the matter.”