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sinfulspencer · 3 years

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You control me (even if it's just tonight)

Prompt: Y/N and the BAU's team are enjoying a night out at Rossi's.

Sex is the main topic of the night. Morgan and Y/N tease Spencer about him being “too adorable, too vanilla”, so... he has to prove he's not.

Rating: M (smut, rough sex)

Warnings: oral sex (female receiving), hair pulling, spanking, gagging, fingering, choking, over-stimulation, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie. .

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The night is on your lips and I feel like I'm locked in There's a million lights, I don't care if they're watching Your body is saying everything, I don't have to read your mind

“Thank God we can finally relax, guys.” Y/N huffs

Morgan is sitting beside her, sipping his beer with a smirk on his lips. “That's the best part of the job.” Rossi and Prentiss, on the other side of the room, are chatting about what they're planning to do for this weekend while Spencer is sitting on the couch, his head thrown back against the pillow and a book open on his lap. The whole team is pretty tired after a whole week of investigations, profiles spread all over the town, sleepeless night and too many corpses found in the area. Thankfully, the help of Garcia and JJ got them to the end of the case, arrested the motherfucker and enjoyed their first night of the week with at least 9 hours of sleep. The same number of hours they got to sleep in exacty five days. Y/N is very tired and can't even keep her eyes open, so Garcia made some coffee for JJ, Y/N and herself in her adorable and weird cups. Y/N gets one with the octopus, JJ one with a shark and Garcia has her own favourite cup, one with Cinderella's fairy godmother. “Is Reid asleep?” Rossi asks, walking towards the oval table in his living room Y/N grabs a pen from the table, throwing it at Spencer as he opens his eyes. “Not anymore.”

Morgan chuckles, shaking his head. “Poor thing. He partied too hard last night, he didn't even get to sleep.” JJ and Prentiss sit down at the table, one in front of Y/N and the other next to Rossi. Y/N loves nights like this, where they could get all together for something to eat, something to drink and maybe some gossip that they couldn't share while working on a case. But she knows that somehow they'll end up talking about a case that night. Y/N doesn't mind, but sometimes it's nice to keep her mind off criminals and murderers and kidnappings. Just for one night, just for a couple of hours. Garcia walks out of the kitchen with a normal black mug in her hands. “Spencer, your coffee is ready.” He stretches his arms forward and lets out a soft sigh, nodding. Y/N grabs his coffee mug from Garcia's hands and uses her free hand to grab the sugar bowl with a spoon.

“How much sugar tonight, Spence?” asks Y/N

The doctor stands up from the couch, slowly walking towards the empty seat by her side. “Surprise me.”

Y/N simply nods, amused by the fact that he trusts her with his precious coffee. She knows he loves sugar with a little bit of coffee – that's what Morgan always says to him when he's the one making coffee for all the others at work – so she pours at least three spoons of sugar in the mug, mixing the liquid. And when the coffee is ready, Y/N hands the mug to Spencer as he leans his head on her shoulder.

“Oh, pretty boy is tired. - JJ coos, grinning – You should go to bed.”

Spencer lifts his head as Y/N wrinkles her nose, annoyed that her female colleague bothered him. She didn't mind having him laying against her like that, he was actually very warm and he smelled like vanilla.

“No, it's fine. Coffee will help me. - Spencer replies, taking out the spoon from the mug – Thank you, Y/N”

She shoots him a smile, taking a sip of her milk and coffee. “No problem. Did you come here with your car?”

He shakes his head. “No, I took the bus. I was hoping you'd give me a ride at the end of the night.”

Garcia and Prentiss look at each other. This is the first time Spencer asked Y/N for a ride – and they both know he had asked her because he wants to be alone with her for a while. The two women noticed that Spencer acted in a totally different way when he was with Y/N, than his usual self. He was more nervous, stiffer but he kept eye contact with Y/N as much as he could – and, of course, he spent a lot of time simply watching her with that dumb smile on his lips.

They tried to talk to Spencer about it, to convince him somehow to do something about his crush, but every single time they brought up “Y/N is single” or “Y/N is very pretty”, he tended to shut them down and focus on other things.

It's not really a surprise, Spencer has always been quite.. private.

Garcia and JJ, on the other hand, noticed the same thing but on Y/N's side but at least she was honest about it and straight-up told JJ that she had a very big crush on Spencer, but she didn't know what to do with him. JJ suggested her to simply flirt a bit with him, calling him with pet names or sitting by his side every time during their case. So Y/N did that. And she even got to hang out with him for a whole night.

Even though they were working on a case in his bedroom, Y/N still felt like she had won something. By the end of the night – it was almost 5 in the morning – Spencer told her that he was very tired and he wanted to go to bed, so Y/N took that as a “get out of my bedroom” sign. But then, as she was grabbing her shoes and her purse, Spencer asked her to keep him company. So she did.

And they slept in the same bedroom: Spencer on the small couch, Y/N on the king-sized bed – even though she would've loved to sleep next to him, with his arms wrapped around her and his lips pressed against her neck.

After that night, nothing “more serious” had happened. JJ told Y/N that it was fine, that it probably was a big step for him, so she just needed to wait for another on of his moves. Sure, they flirted on the jet while flying from one country to another, they worked together on other cases, she made him coffee almost every morning and he bought her lunch for three days straight, but still. Nothing else.

Y/N wanted more.

“I heard there's a new bar down the block. - Rossi says, leaning back against the chair – We could have a drink there this weekend, if you're all up for it.”

Garcia giggles, shaking her head. “I can't. I have a date, actually.”

Morgan raises an eyebrow, leaning in. “Babygirl, why didn't you tell me?”

JJ and Prentiss laugh, while Spencer takes another sip of coffee from his mug. His eyes are fixed on Y/N's face, not leaving her for a single second. She can feel his stare on her skin but she doesn't have the courage to turn around, pinch him on the thigh and tell him something. He can stare however he wants – but he could also touch her, it would be amazing too.

“Well, you know, we talked this morning and he said he wanted to take me out. - Garcia explains, placing with the edge of her mug – But you guys should go out anyway! I know some of you need to get laid. Especially you, Y/N.”

She opens her mouth, not expecting her colleague to say that. “I...”

Prentiss covers her mouth with a hand. “Isn't it right?”

Y/N doesn't mind talking about sex, it's nice to talk about it and find out more about her colleague's thoughts on it – all of her colleagues saw her reading sex books at the end of a case, on the jet while coming back home. But still, Y/N wasn't expecting Garcia to call her out like that and she can feel Spencer's eyes on her the whole time.

It's difficult to breathe when he's looking at her that way.

“Hm, I haven't gotten laid in a very long time. - Y/N manages to crook out, blushing – Maybe this new bar will bring me some fun.”

JJ raises an eyebrow, noticing Spencer's eyes shifting on hers before going back to Y/N. “How long since your last time, Y/N? We actually have never heard you talking about a possible date or something.”

Rossi turns his head towards Spencer, smirking when he sees the young doctor shiting on his chair. “Spencer, is everything okay? Are you excited to try this new bar out and see what chick come to your way?”

Morgan laughs at his friend's remark. “Yeah, pretty boy, do you need to get laid?”

Y/N turns her body around to look at Spencer, hoping the conversation would stay on him and his business for the rest of the night but the doctor is looking at her, a tight smile on his lips. Y/N knows she has to break the silence or someone could ask more personal questions – sex is not a taboo, of course, but some things should stay secret and buried in her mind.

“I mean, who doesn't need to get laid here?”

Prentiss, JJ, Rossi, Morgan and Garcia raise their hands. Y/N stares at them, then covers her face with hand as she shakes her head. She can feel her cheeks getting redder.

“Oh come on, Y/N! - Morgan exclaims, capturing her attention – How long?”

They all look quite surprised that Y/N hasn't had sex in a while, probably because she's a very attractive young woman and they assumed she had sex at least once a week. Y/N let out a soft sigh – and fuck it, they wouldn't judge her on the most natural thing in the world. Right?

“At least three years. The last time I had sex, I was still with Leonard. - Y/N says, shrugging as she takes a sip of her coffee – My first year in the BAU, yeah.”

Garcia places a hand over her heart. “Oh honey, you need to get laid!”

Y/N blushes, giggling at the same time. “I know, I just don't find the time to do that.”

Spencer lowers his eyes, scratching the back of his neck. “And I don't find the right people to do that.”

Rossi immediately looks at the young doctor. “What did you say, boy wonder?”

“Boy wonder, pretty boy”, Y/N loves Spencer's nicknames.

They fit him so perfectly because he really is a wonder, and he really is pretty. One of the most attractive Y/N has ever laid her eyes on in her whole life, way better than her ex boyfriend Leonard. She whishes Spencer would look at her the way she does.

“I said that I don't find the right people to do that, you know? - Spencer says, this time in a higher voice – I just don't like going to a bar and stare at women like they're objects. I'd rather spend the whole night talking to someone and then see what happens.”

Y/N quickly nods, leaning back against her chair. “Yeah, same. I'm not like you, Morgan.”

“Hey! That was rude. - Morgan exclaims, rolling his eyes – But I get it, you both need psychological arousal before actually having sex with someone. That's fair.”

JJ and Prentiss look at each other, then they turn around to stare at the two “lovebirds” sitting really close to one another. They would be the perfect couple: both very smart, both very attractive, both clumsy and romantic, both book-geeks, both curious, both open-minded and both amazing listeners, conversationists and interesting people. The only thing that was missing was... well, something that actually forced them to tell each other how they felt.

“Why don't you both give it a try?” Rossi asks

Morgan almost chokes on his beer, turning his head around. JJ and Prentis start laughing, covering their mouths while Garcia tries her hardest not to laugh again. Spencer looks almost offended while Y/N wants the floor to open up and swallow her without even hesitating.

“That would ruin our professional relationship, Morgan. - Spencer says, his voice calculated and stern – She is a very attractive woman, but she's my colleague. I wouldn't do that.”

Y/N lowers her eyes, a sharp pain spreading in her chest. She knew he wouldn't be so open about the idea of having sex with her, but still, she felt a big rejected. He wouldn't have sex with her because they work together, but if they weren't colleagues, he would?

That question running through her head makes her open her mouth.

“So.. would you fuck me if we weren't colleagues?”

This time is Rossi who almost chokes on his beer, as Prentiss and Garcia widen their eyes. They were not expecting her to be so straight-forward, but Y/N doesn't want to let this go. If he found her attractive, why wouldn't he give it a go? Y/N was literally waiting for him to do something to her, but she wasn't going to be the one to make the first move. Ever.

JJ smirks on the other side of the table, crossing her legs. “That's actually a good point.”

Spencer shifts again on his chair. “Well, I...”

“Pretty boy, you can speak. I'm sure she won't bite. - Garcia exclaims, snapping her fingers – Unless you want her to. Right, Y/N?”

Y/N winks at her, feeling more at ease now.

Does coffee and milk have some kind of effect on people's behaviour the same way alcohol has?

Because she feels like she's drunk. Or maybe it's just the fact that her hormones are all over the place when she's around Spencer.

“Come on, Reid. If only I liked women, I'd go for it. - Prentiss says, kicking him under the table and making the others laugh at her words – If Hotch wasn't married, I would fuck him!”

JJ places her coffee mug on the table. “If I wasn't married, I'd go with Morgan.”

“I'd go with Y/N, if only she was interested in me. - Morgan says, winking at Y/N – Unfortunately she has eyes for someone else.”

Y/N blushes hard. She confessed to Morgan her feelings for Spencer on the last night of their case at the beginning of the month. She was drunk, her head pressed against the wooden surface of a pub in Texas, when she basically poured her heart out to Morgan – he was less drunk than her, but still. They've spent the whole night talking about how she should find the strenght to grab Spencer, push him somewhere and just tell him the truth because it was almost overwhelming.

Y/N started working for the BAU three years ago and she had been interested in Spencer ever since – she didn't use the words “in love with” because, well, she didn't want to. She wasn't ready to admit to herself that she has always been in love with him, mostly because he wasn't really interested in her body but only in her mind. Or that's what she thought.

She didn't know that Spencer has thought many times about her, with his hands down his pants and his eyes closed, head thrown back on the pillow as images of her possible naked body straddling him would fill his brain before falling asleep.

“Why is this about me, now? - Spencer mutters, crossing his arms to his chest – Shouldn't we focus on the fact that she hasn't gotten laid in so long?”

Y/N giggles, shaking her head. “Thank you for your concern about my sexual life, Spence.”

“Why don't you help her ending her misery? - Rossi asks without even thinking about it – Come on. I'll even give you my bedroom.”

Prentiss stands up from the chair, laughing. “God, you're scaring him, Rossi.”

JJ taps her fingers against the table. “I'm pretty sure Y/N is not as vanilla as he is, anyway.”

“Uh, did you forget that I'm here and I can hear what you say?” Y/N blushes hard

Garcia whistles, leaning forward. “Oh please, tell me more. Vanilla? What's that?”

Before Y/N could open her mouth to reply, Spencer speaks first.

“Vanilla basically means someone who enjoys sex without twists or kinks. It's plain regular sweet, happy and very lovey-dovey sex. - Y/N turns to look at him, raising an eyebrow – What? I'm not as vanilla as you think I am, Y/N. Just because I don't talk about my sex life, doesn't mean I hate sex. I experience sexual attraction, I like having sex with others.”

She lifts both her hands, rolling her eyes. “Calm down, sweetcheeks. I didn't say anything.”

“What's a kink?” Garcia asks again

Prentiss and JJ step inside of the kitchen, probably to grab a beer or something. Rossi and Morgan are enjoying the conversation, darting their eyes from Spencer to Y/N to see how they react. The conversation isn't over yet and they hope that, by making those kind of references, they'd get the two lovebirds together.

“A kink is a sexual behaviour, a sexual preference someone has. It's something that increases sexual enjoyment like... spanking, choking, hair pulling. - Y/N says, eyes focused on Spencer by his side – It's different from a fetish because a fetish replaces the partner with an object.”

Morgan leans forward. “I guess I have a kink for lingerie, then.”

Rossi laughs, placing his empty bottle down on the table. “I would've never said that.”

“I guess I'm vanilla, then. - JJ mutters, sitting back on the chair in front of Y/N – Me and Will don't have much “mommy and daddy time”, so we haven't explored much. Not yet, at least.”

“What about you, Y/N?” Prentiss asks

The younger woman shifts on the chair, taking the last sip of her milk and coffee.

“Oh, I have a very long list of kinks that I want to try and that I've already tried and loved.”

“Explain.” Spencer says

She looks at him for a second, then blushes. “Well, uhm... Can you promise me nothing of this conversation is going to leave this house?”

“Of course! We would never spread intimate informations to others. - Garcia exclaims, clapping her hands with a mischievous smirk on her lips – Come on, spill. It's been three years and you've never told us any of your spicy secrets.”

Spencer moves his chair so he could face Y/N, getting a bit closer to her.

“Oh, this is going to be so good. - Derek says, pressing his hands together – Tell us.”

JJ leans in, smirking. “I know some of them already.”

Spencer looks at JJ for a few seconds, then raises an eyebrow and turns to look at the other girl by his side, the same girl who's about to open up about her kinks – what if some of them are the same as his? Would it be easier for him to make the first move in the car, later?

“Choking.”

Spencer almost chokes on his coffee. She's into choking, huh? Well, that's definitely an interesting kink to have – and he appears to have it as well. He has imagined many times to have his hand wrapped around her pretty throat, forcing her to look at him in the eyes while he's touching her.

“Choking? Oh, damn. - Rossi says, not surprised – Have you tried it?”

Y/N nods, biting her bottom lip. “Yes. I have. Many times, actually. That was the only thing Leonard was able to do.”

“What do you mean?” Prentiss asks, furrowing her perfectly shaped eyebrows

Y/N shrugs, blushing hard. “Well, I would've liked to have an orgasm once or twice in my life.”

Garcia, JJ, Prentis, Morgan and Rossi all gasp at her confession. Spencer is actually speechless: he remembers when she told him about Leonard breaking up with her after four years. He has always thought that they were having a wonderful sex life, but now... it appears that her ex boyfriend wasn't really that good in bed.

So? She has never had an orgasm? That's fucking frustrating.

“Oh my God! Are you serious?” Morgan widens his eyes

Y/N shrugs, biting her bottom lip. “I've had self-orgasms, but never... you know.”

Garcia immediately stands up, wrapping an arm around Y/N's shoulders. “Poor child, you definitely need someone who can make you come or you'll go crazy. I am so sorry.”

The younger woman chuckles, slowly pulling away from the hug. “Eh, it's fine. I'll find someone, won't I?”

After a few seconds of awkward silence, Y/N lets out a huge sigh and stands up from the chair. She definitely needs something to drink right in that moment, maybe something alcoholic so she can stop thinking about the fact that she admitted that she never had an orgasm before.

Sure, Leonard was nice in bed but he has never been able to actually take her to the finish line. She tried to talk about it to him, but he always got so offended to the point he would storm out of their old apartment.

“Vanilla boy, what do you say? What's your kink?” Rossi asks

Y/N steps inside Rossi's kitchen, grabbing a beer from the fridge. All this “sex talking” is getting to her head but she doesn't mind, it's actually very refreshing to talk about sex with someone different than JJ when they're sharing a room during one of their cases.

“I bet you have a foot fetish.” Morgan sneers

Prentiss chuckles, pulling out her phone from her purse. “I wish I could stay here a little longer but my dear boyfriend wants me home in an hour. I want to know more about your kinks, Spencer!”

The young doctor rolls his eyes, fidgeting the edge of his shirt. “I don't have a foot fetish, Morgan. Maybe you do, but I don't. I don't think I have any fetish, I have a lot of kinks though. And I'm probably less vanilla than you, chocolate fudge.”

Y/N giggles when she comes back to the living room, placing her beer bottle on the table as she walks towards Prentiss. She hugs her tightly and opens the entrance door for her, waving until she's safe and in her car. Not that Prentiss needs a bodyguard, but still.

“Tell me one of them, then. - Morgan says, raising his eyebrows – We're all curious.”

Y/N grabs her beer bottle and sits next to JJ, leaving the empty chair next to Spencer so he's all alone in front of her, JJ, Morgan and Rossi. Spencer is blushing hard, probably because he's not really used to talk about sex in front of others, and Y/N finds it so fucking cute and pretty. She wants to stand up, sit on his lap and shower him with kisses all over his face.

Or maybe she'd get on his knees for him, she'd love it.

“I like gagging.”

Y/N's eyes snap on his face, noticing he's looking at her.

So he likes to gag people? With what, tissues or maybe a part of body?

“Oh, that's nice. - Y/N says, agreeing with him – Same, honestly.”

JJ and Rossi look at each other, both smirking.

“See? She'd be perfect for you, Spencer! - JJ exclaims, touching Y/N's knee – Maybe you'd help her having the first orgasm with her life.”

Y/N shakes her head, embarrassed beyond limits. “Please, stop trying to make him hook up with me. If we want to fuck in my car later, we will. We don't need your help, do we, Spencer?”

Spencer immediately agrees, taking the last sip of coffee. “Exactly. Thank you, Y/N.”

And so the sex talk finally ends, shifting to another topic for the next hour and a half.

***

It's almost two in the morning and Y/N feels extremely tired. She can't wait to go back home, strip from all of her clothes and jump into her bed to take a very long, long sleep. She needs it or she'll pass out during lunch with her mother the day after – she probably shouldn't have accepted to go out to Rossi's apartment with the team, but still. She needed to see Spencer before Monday.

The conversation with the team is slowly coming to an end, forcing all of them to stand up and get ready to leave Rossi's apartment. After a second beer, Spencer decided to change his chair and sit back on the couch; he even asked Y/N to join him, which she did, and wrapped an arm around her shoulders while she laid her head on his chest.

She actually enjoyed being so close to him, smelling his soft scent and having her hair caressed by his skilled fingers. She wonders if he noticed the way she got really comfortable by his side, letting herself wrap an arm around his waist to pull him closer to her. Maybe he didn't notice, but JJ and Rossi did – and they probably texted Prentiss and Garcia, who left a bit later, to tell them the good news.

Y/N doesn't really care about what they think.

It's obvious that she has a thing for Spencer, so what? It's not like it would ruin everything in the team – unless Spencer rejcts her in a bad way and leaves the BAU, but Y/N knows he would never do that.

Even if he's not interested in her, Spencer would never hurt her or tell her something that'd upset her. He's a sweetheart, he's romantic and he cares for her. He was her first friend in the BAU, they got close to each other basically two days after their first meeting so.. Y/N trusts him. She would take a bullet for him.

“I'll see you all this Monday, then.” Rossi says, standing on the door step

Y/N quickly nods, closing her jacket on her chest. “Yes. Thank God it's not paperwork day.”

“I'm allergic to paperwork. - Rossi mutters, shaking his head – Goodnight, guys. Drive safely.”

JJ, Morgan, Y/N and Spencer walks away from Rossi's apartment to reach the small parking lot right behind his house. Spencer doesn't leave Y/N's side, almost as if he's terrified he might remain right there, alone, and has to walk home in the middle of the night.

He doesn't even have his gun with him.

JJ opens her car with her automatic key. “As always, it was a pleasure.”

Morgan gives her a quick hug. “See you on Monday, JJ.”

Y/N winks at her, blowing her a kiss. “Text me when you get home, okay?”

“Always. Don't worry. - JJ says, putting her bag in the backseats – Goodnight Spencer.”

He lifts his hand, waving at her. “'Night.”

JJ gets in her own car as Morgan and Y/N walks towards their with Spencer.

Y/N grabs her keys from her bag and clicks them, opening the car. “Morgan.”

“Babygirl. - he whispers, hugging her quickly – Goodnight, sleep well. And don't tease our pretty boy too much while you're driving, wouldn't want his not-so-vanilla side come out at the wrong time.”

Spencer rolls his eyes at his friend tease, shaking his head. “You are so incredibly annoying, Morgan. I don't know how Savannah can stand you, literally.”

“What can I say? - Morgan smirks, winking at both of them – I'm good in bed, I guess.”

Y/N laughs along with him, jumping in her car with Spencer by her side. She has always loved the way Morgan is so open and so fun, she likes his behaviour and she loves the relationship he has with Garcia. She wonders if she'll ever find someone to have a similar relationship with. Y/N loves teasing.

Spencer closes the car door, putting his seatbelt on. Y/N starts the engine, not driving out of the parking lot, and grabs her phone before giving it to Spencer.

“I don't remember your address, I need my GPS.”

“Oh, you don't trust my directions?” Spencer asks, pretending to be offended

Y/N gives him a weird look, chuckling right after. “The last time you gave me your address, we ended up in the middle of nowhere with JJ and Morgan behind us.”

“That wasn't my fault! I was drunk! - Spencer tells her, rolling his eyes – Morgan challenged me with the twenty vodka shots at The Angel. It wasn't my fault.”

She giggles, placing her phone next to the steering wheel. “Sure, keep telling yourself that, sweetcheeks.”

A comfortable silence washes over the car as Y/N slowly pulls out of the parking lot to follow her GPS' directions towards Spencer's house. She's glad he's not talking, but at the same time she wishes he would open her mouth and tell her something. Whatever he wants, she doesn't mind. Y/N really likes his voice, it's soothing and relaxed, and hot.

She wonders how his voice would sound if he whispered something against her ear, maybe from behind with his arms wrapped around her waist and his hip...

“So you've never had an orgasm before.”

Y/N stops at a traffic light, turning for a second to look at him. “Is it so horrible to imagine?”

“Orgasmic dysfunction is a condition that occours when someone has difficulty reaching orgasms, usually when they're sexually aroused. The contributing factors might include older age, but you're not old; the use of certain medications, particularly antidepressants, shyness, cultural or religious beliefs... - Spencer starts to ramble as Y/N beings to drive again – Or maybe unresolved conflicts, lack of trust, stress, poor self-esteem, anxiety, depression. The inability to orgasm can lead to distress, which may make it even harder to achieve orgasm in the future.”

Y/N taps her fingers against the wheel. “What are your conclusions, doctor?”

“He wasn't as good as he thought he was in bed, maybe. - Spencer adds, shrugging without looking at her – You said that you were able to, uhm, come by yourself. I think it's called situational anorg..”

She lets out a huge sigh, keeping her eyes on the road in front of her.

“He was the problem, Spencer. He wasn't able to use his tongue, his fingers, let alone his dick. He cared about himself and his own pleasure instead of mutually sharing the experience.”

He bites his bottom lip, tapping his foot. “Well, I am sorry. It must be really frustrating.”

“Not really. I mean, one day I'll find someone who can make me come. - Y/N replies, not really wanting to keep diving into her “secret” - For now, I'm quite satisfied with myself.”

Spencer remains silent for a few minutes, turning his head towards the window of her car.

He is completely alone with her in her car, far away from the others and all those weird teasing phrases that kept bothering him every single day. Morgan and Hotchner tried to make him hook up with her many times by booking a bedroom for two under their names, but Y/N has always managed to find a way to change that booking and sleeping with JJ instead. Spencer didn't mind because if he got to sleep with Y/N in the middle of a working-weel, he would've forced her to spend the whole day in bed with him instead of going out to work on a case.

He has the chance of touching her or try to talk to her about something he can help her with, but what if she rejects him and pulls him away? Or what if she gets repulsed by him and the idea of being with him?

“Well, if you ever need help, I'm here.”

Y/N blinks, not really sure she heard him right. “What?”

“To talk. - Spencer coughs, covering his mouth with a hand – I meant, to talk. I'm here for you if you need to talk to someone, you know. I'm always here for you.”

This would be the perfect time for her to shoot her shot. They're stopping at another traffic light and there's silence, which means Y/N could actually say something to change the course of their night.

“You could also physically help me, if you're in the mood. - Y/N whispers, tightening the grip on the steering wheel – See if there's something wrong with me or if my ex boyfriend was just a useless piece of meat when we tried to have sex.”

Spencer gulps, biting his bottom lip again. She asked him to have sex, basically.

But what should he do? Accept and have the best night of his life with the woman he's been thirsting over for the past three years or reject her in order to keep his sanity while he's at work?

If they end up having sex that night, Spencer knows he wouldn't be able to stop thinking about her when he sees her at work – and that would definitely be a disaster, because they all need to be focused on the job. But still. It's just sex. It's a normal thing, everybody has it, everybody has done it or will do it in their life, so why would it have to ruin everything?

“Are you asking me to make you come?”

A little smile appears on her lips. “Yes. Do you think you can do it?”

Spencer shifts on the seat. “I don't understand if you're serious or are you just joking.”

The GPS tells Y/N that they're almost at Spencer's apartment. She bites her bottom lip, not really sure how to reply to that. She hoped her voice, more stern, would help him understand that she's on the verge of begging him to touch her but apparently he needs a little more encouragement.

“Why would I joke about this? - she asks, turning the wheel to the right until she stops in front of the white building on her left – If you don't believe me, you can just say no and we'll stop talking about this.”

Spencer looks at his left, then turns around to stare at the woman by his side. She doesn't take off her seatbelt, probably waiting for a sign from him. He's hesitating because he really doesn't know what to do. He has the perfect opportunity to have sex with her, to touch the way he dreamed of, to be touched by those hands he had fantasies about.

But what if it's just a plan that the others had elaborated to make fun of him?

No, they would never do that. They love him, they care for him. Morgan loves to tease him and make fun of him but not in a bad way, in a friendly and jokingly way.

“I don't want to say no, Y/N. That's the problem.”

She takes off her seatbelt. “And I don't want to force you to do anything.”

“I thought you were too tired and wanted to go home. - Spencer whispers, biting his bottom lip – But if you're too tired to drive, you can stop by my house for the night.”

Y/N tilts her head. “I might accept your offer, if you don't mind.”

He quickly shakes his head, stepping out of the car. His heart is beating so fast in his chest to the point he's scared it might jump out from his throat because this is happening all too fast. Spencer closes the door behind his back and walks towards his apartment, followed by Y/N who closes her car with her keys and puts them back in her bag. He hopes she can't see the way his fingers are shaking.

Spencer pulls out his card from his pocket and slides it against the locker device on the door. A little “click” can be heard, later on the door opens and Spencer walks inside his living room, soon followed by Y/N.

It's not the first time she goes to his house.

She remembers the first weekend at the BAU, Morgan and Prentiss decided to have a little gathering somewhere. And Spencer offered his house, inviting all of them there. And they had so much fun, playing board games and drinking white wine.

“Are you cold, Y/N? I can start the fire, if you want.”

She takes off her jacket. “No, it's fine. Your house is already warm, I don't want to get too hot.”

Spencer simply nods, grabbing her jacket and hanging it behind the locked door. There's only one thing in his mind so when he turns around, he realizes it by grabbing Y/N by the waist and pulling her closer to his chest as she widens her eyes. She looks up at him, her eyes staring back at his.

“I would love to help you. Physically.”

A smirk appears on her lips. “I was hoping you would, actually.”

Y/N's hand slides up on his chest, caressing the exposed skin of his collarbones. Her finger tips are so delicate, touching his skin while she leans forward with her head. Spencer lowers his eyes to look at her, enoying the soft touch of her hand, and brushes the tip of his nose against her before letting their lips meet in a very chaste kiss. There's no lust, no passion in it.

It's sweet. Maybe a little too much for her taste, but Y/N doesn't want to rush things. Even though the only thing she needs right in that moment, is for him to push her down on her knees and gag her with his cock while forcing her to take all of him in her mouth.

Y/N moans softly on his lips, licking his bottom lip before sliding her tongue inside of his mouth. She can feel the little hint of coffee mixed with beer, it's hot. And it's delicious. She might get already addicted to his taste, but she bet he'd taste even sweeter somewhere else.

Spencer moves his hand from her waist to her back, pressing her body against his. A soft moan escapes from her lips, forcing him to pull away for a few seconds. He looks at her, noticing her full of lust her eyes are, as a little smile appear on his mouth. She looks fucking sinful in that moment.

“Are you sure you want this?” Spencer asks

Y/N takes his face in her hands, gently brushing her thumbs over his cheekbones. “Yes. I want you.”

That was all he needed to know. His lips press against hers one more time, the light stubble along his cheeks scratches the soft skin around her lips but she doesn't care. No, the only thing she can focus on is the way he's pushing her towards his body, moving his hips against hers.

Spencer slides his hand down to her thighs, picking the girl up in the middle of the living room. Y/N doesn't realize that they moved to another room until Spencer lays her down on his bed, hovering over her as their lips keep meeting in passionate kisses.

His tongue moves across Y/N's, his hands forcing her to open her legs as he presses his hip against her again and again. She can feel his erection through his dark trousers pressing on her thigh, leaving her breathless.

“Fuck, Spencer.”

Y/N runs a hand through his hair, pulling it lightly. Spencer interrupts the kiss and pulls away from her mouth, making its way down her neck. A loud moan echoes through the room as she arches her back while Spencer kisses the tender skin on her throat, while his right hand slowly wraps around it.

“You are so fucking hot like this, Y/N.”

She grins, opening her eyes. “I would look way hotter without my clothes.”

Spencer smiles softly, lifting his body up. “Oh yeah? Show me, then. Undress yourself.”

He moves on his bed, laying down on the mattress with both hands behind his neck. Y/N blinks, then gives him a huge smile as she steps down the bed. She quickly takes off her shoes and her socks, pulling down her trousers.

“Thank God I put on my favourite pair of panties!” - she thinks, removing her dark blue blouse.

“I love your body, you know that?”

Y/N shakes her head, leaving her clothes on the floor before jumping again on the bed and slowly straddling Spencer's body. His hands end up on her bottom, squeezing it slightly while his mouth covers her once against. Y/N starts grinding against him, moaning softly on his lips, as she lifts his shirt.

Spencer lets her undress him as quickly as they can, finally feeling her hot skin pressed on his.

“Were you expecting to get laid tonight?” Spencer asks

Y/N shakes her head again. “No, actually. But I'm glad I put on this lingerie.”

“Dark blue is my favourite color. - he whispers, brushing the tip of his index around her right nipple – You should wear it more often, both on your clothes and your underwear.”

Y/N will definitely do that in the future. “Gladly.”

Spencer unclasps her bra, throwing it on the floor along with their clothes, and before she can move to take off his trousers, his mouth attacks her nipple. A loud moan echoes through the room as Y/N bites her bottom lip, moving her hips against his thigh while Spencer starts playing with her other nipple. He twists it softly, making her whimper with her eyes now closed.

His hands are still on her bottom, grabbing it tightly to the point she knows he left his handprints on her skin – but she doesn't care, she wants everything he can give her. Spencer starts sucking on her right nipple, flicking his tongue against and around it until she starts moaning faster and louder. She has always loved nipple play but unfortunately her boyfriend wasn't on the same page as her.

“Spence, stop. - she manages to whisper – I need to...”

“Go ahead, princess. - he says, helping her to lift her body up – Do whatever you want.”

She obeys quickly, pulling his trousers and his boxers down. Now he's completely naked under her body and Y/N is shocked because she didn't know he was actually fucking packing.

Like, very long and thick. She doesn't even know if she'll be able to take it all inside of her without her crying in pain.

But she quickly recovers, straddling him again. The tip of his cock is slightly pressed to her core, forcing her to rock her hips forward as a soft moan escapes from his lips. It's soft, needy, just like hers. And Y/N swears she has never heard of a more beautiful sound before in her life.

She can feel herself getting wetter and wetter by the seconds, so she quickly pulls down her panties until she's finally completely naked on his body. There's nothing separating the two of them. She can easily slides her hand down his torso, grab his cock and push it inside of her without hesitating but... Not yet. She wants to enjoy his fingers, his mouth, his gorgeous body before actually having the pleasure of being fucked by him.

Spencer lifts his right hand, pushing two fingers in her mouth. Y/N allows him to do that, feeling his fingertips pressing down on her tongue.

“I want you to suck my fingers while you ride my thighs.”

And who's Y/N to reject him of such a delicious order?

She slowly nods, blinking when Spencer begins to bounce his knee slightly, eliciting a whine from Y/N as he closes her eyes. Her tongue touches the tip of two fingers, wetting them as she moves her hips to match his movements. The knot behind her belly button is growing fast, heat spreads through her body and on her cheeks as she uses her left hand to steady herself on his body.

She has never been so aroused before.

Spencer presses his fingers on her tongue, forcing her to open her mouth. She looks straight into his eyes, grinding faster against his thighs. The pressure on her clit is getting heavier, more pleasure, more intense and her thighs are starting to shake.

Is this what an orgasm caused by someone feels like?

“Good girl. You're being so good, princess.”

His voice is deep, filled with desire and lust. A low moan comes out of his mouth as Y/N throws her head back when his fingers leave her lips, sliding down on her body. Spencer starts to play with both her nipples, bouncing his leg to allow her to have more friction. Her wetness is sliding down his thigh as Spencer bites his bottom lip, twisting her nipples between his fingers.

“I think I'm gonna come.”

Y/N's moans grow louder and louder, leaving her lips in a lithany of low sounds. Spencer has never seen a more beautiful creature in his life before, as she moves quickly against his leg.

“Come for me, Y/N. I want you to come.”

His right hand leaves her nipple, his fingers dig deep into her hip as he follows her pace, bouncing his knee to meet her movements. Y/N whines, wanting to finally have a decent orgasm. And as soon as Spencer grabs a fistful of her hair with his left hand, the pure ecstasy of the moment takes over her body as she reaches her climax.

“Spencer, fuck!”

He keeps a slow rhytm for her, helping her ride her first ever not-self orgasm. Her face is red from the heat, a single sweat drop falls from her forehead down her chest and Spencer leans forward to press a long kiss at the base of her throat.

Y/N is shaking as she collapses against his body, her chest raising up and down. She tries to catch her breath, grasping the sheets by his left side as Spencer slowly rolls over her body. Y/N closes her legs, panting hard with her eyes closed.

It felt so good, so liberating to finally have an orgasm not caused by a vibrator or her own fingers,

“Good girl. - Spencer says in her ear, pressing a soft kiss on her lips – You've been such a good girl.”

Y/N throws her head back on the pillow, sighing. “That was...”

“Just the beginning.”

She opens her eyes again, finding him smirking at her. Uh-oh. “What are you planning to do?”

Spencer doesn't reply to her.

Instead, he opens her legs and lays down between them as he leaves a trace of delicate kisses from her chest to her belly button. He nips at her skin, making his way downtown until he leaves another kiss on her clit.

Y/N grabs his right hand, placing it on her breast. “I'm oversensitive now.”

Still, Spencer doesn't say anything. Instead, he laps at her clit in response and Y/N swears she has just been thrown in the space, into the Iperuranium or some-fucking-where in the world. He slips two fingers inside of her and starts massaging her clit with his thumb, sucking on it gently while he listens to her soft moans echoing in his bedroom.

He has dreamed about tasting her, feeling her wetness on his tongue, hearing her voice when she's about to come, making her come. And he's doing all of that in one night.

“God, fuck. Don't stop.”

He hums, pumping his fingers into her as he looks up. “I'm not planning to stop.”

She gives him a smile before throwing her head back. She tries to buck her hips, moving it to encourage him to go faster, but Spencer pins her waist down with his free arm. And he goes back to suck gently on her clit, feeling her thighs shaking around him and her juices coaxing his chin, his lips.

But she tastes so fucking good.

“Spencer.. I'm gonna..”

She yelps in pure ecstasy when the second orgasm hits her body like a thunder. Y/N grips the bed sheets with a hand, using the other to pull harder and harder on Spencer's hair. Her eyes rolls back into her head, her legs close around Spencer's head as waves of pleasure wash her whole body.

Her eyebrows are furrowed, her cheeks are read with pleasure and she's shaking. Spencer feels himself growing harder and harder as the seconds go by. He desperately wants to be where his fingers are, feeling her hot wetness gripping him and letting himself fall inside of her while kissing her, choking her, whispering in her ear that she's so good for him.

Spencer drags his tongue between her folds, licking her juices with a low hum before pulling away and brushing his mouth with the back of his hand. The bottom of his face is completely drenched in her wetness but it's fucking hot. He didn't know she could get so wet.

He really loves giving oral sex.

If he knew she'd be so good, so delicious for him, he would've made the first move way earlier. Or maybe not, because he's a fucking idiot who couldn't see how attracted she was and still is to him. If she wasn't, she wouldn't be in his bed after two orgasms.

Right?

Spencer pulls himself up, hovering over her face. Y/N opens her eyes and runs a hand through his hair, leaning forward as he lowers his mouth to finally covers her again.

This time the kiss is nothing but full of lust, desire, passion. A love so strong, so powerful and so animalistic to the point where they both don't want to pull away. They have been waiting for this for long and it only took less than 15 minutes to get them where they needed to be.

Spencer on top of her, completely naked, with Y/N underneath him, completely naked.

Y/N wraps her arms around his neck, closing her legs behind his hip. He lays down on her hot body, moaning softly when her nipples press against his chest. His cock is pressing on her wetness and he's tempted to slide it inside of her, but he wants her to be the one to do it. He's worried she might have changed her mind after two orgasms.

“Spencer?”

He raises an eyebrow, interrupting their kiss. “Yes, princess?”

“Thank you.”

The young doctor brushes the tip of his nose against her cheek. “My pleasure.”

Y/N grabs his left hand and places it on her own throat. “But now you have to do something.”

He hums, pretending he doesn't know what she's talking about. “What?”

She bucks up her hip, biting his bottom lip when his cock slides between her folds. She's desperate to feel him inside of her, and yet he's not doing anything even though she can feel how hard and painful his erection must be. So? How is he able to keep all that control? Isn't he some kind of robot?

“Spencer, please. - she begs him softly, using her free hand to touch him between his legs but he slaps her hand away, making her whine – Please, I need you inside of me.”

He leans in, pressing a soft kiss in the crook of her neck. “You are so needy. And greedy. A little too greedy, don't you think?”

She huffs, placing her free hand on his back. “No, I'm not “too greedy”. I feel bad because you haven't come yet, while I had two orgasms already. Let me make it up to you, please?”

Spencer slips his hand down her chest, caressing her breasts. “Get on your hands and knees, princess.”

He presses his forehead against hers as his breath against her skin does nothing to calm her down. She needs him more than she could ever admit it to herself, and yet he's taking his own sweet time to adore her, to watch her carefully and to make her crazy.

It's annoying.

But so fucking hot.

Y/N follows his orders, rolling her body as she lifts her bottom.

She feels Spencer slowly crawling between her legs, opening them to press his hip against her ass while he uses a hand to grab a fistful of her hair and pulls it hard. Y/N lets out a shriek, not expecting that gesture, but she doesn't mind. She loves having her hair pulled back, especially if Spencer is doing it.

“You look so hot like this, princess. - he whispers in her ear, leaning against her body with his chest pressed on her back – I wish I could have you like this all time.”

Y/N bites her own bottom lip, pushing her ass back. “If you promise you are going to touch me like you're doing right now, you'll have me anywhere you want. I swear to whatever is up in the sky.”

The young doctor grins, his mouth travelling down her spine while leaving kisses before going back to her neck and nipping at the skin. His teeth sinks in her soft skin, making the girl moan softly as Spencer's finally slips the tip of his cock between her wet lips.

Y/N almost collpases on the bed but Spencer is faster and wraps his arms around her waist, pulling her to his body in order to keep her still. She lower her eyes for a second, noticing the veins in his arms; she quivers, closing her eyes as Spencer moves his hip forward and finally bottoms out. She inhale some air for a few second, trying to adjust quickly to the delicate stretch of her body for him, and lets out a low moan. Spencer keeps leaving soft kisses on her back, enjoying the hot wet grip around his cock without moving; he wants her to be as comfortable as she can, he would never ruin this experience for her.

“My fucking God.”

“Not God, but thank you anyway, I guess. - she smiles as he grins, relieved that she heard him; slowly, he raises his hand to meet her throat – You feel so good, princess.”

Y/N clenches around him, throwing her head back against his shoulder. Her throat is totally exposed and Spencer feels the need to grab it, softly pressing his fingers on her delicate skin that rapidly changes colour. Y/N opens her mouth, the loss of oxygen making her feel more dizzy but ecstatic.

“Yes, yes, please. Like this, yes.”

Y/N is already a mess and he hasn't even started pushing inside of her. He wasn't expecting her to enjoy choking this much, but he's glad she does. He practised it a lot in order to learn how to actually do it without hurting the other person.

“Can I move, princess?”

Y/N quickly nods, not able to form a complete sentence She's overwhelmed with pleasure: one hand on her throat, the other one through her hair, his mouth on her neck, his cock inside of her and her core already over-stimulated because of the previous two orgasms.

Can she handle a third one after 21 years of self-orgasms or it'll destroy her? Y/N wants to find out.

“You are so fucking tight, princess. - Spencer groans, beginning to thrust into her – And you're so fucking gorgeous, taking my cock like this. Perfect, so perfect for me.”

He's moving inside of her with a slow pace, but Y/N is still writhing under his touch. Her back arches into him, begging for more. And he obeys, tightening his hand around her throat while he pulls her hair and forces him to look at her through her eyelashes.

Then, he starts pouding into her.

And Y/N swears she just reached Heaven and saw God in the shape of Spencer.

It's actually crazy to feel this much pleasure in just one moment, but Y/N wouldn't trade that second for all the money in the whole world. If Spencer Reid could fuck her every single day, every single hour, she would sacrifice herself for it. She'd sell with her own soul for this.

“I've been waiting for so long for this, Spencer. - Y/N says, placing her right hand over his forearm while steadying himself against his body – God, you are so fucking good. Fuck me, fuck me.”

Spencer lets her hair go, forcing the girl to face down the mattress.

So she has waited for this moment for a long time, why don't make the most out of it then?

He slaps her ass with a hand, watching it bouncing against his hips. It's the most erotic view of his life.

“Next time you're going to let me use your body, you'll be on your knees.” he whispers

Y/N quickly nods, scratching his arm. “Can't fucking wait, sir.”

His pace becomes faster and harder. Every stroke is deep, making the girl whimper at each move as she hides her face into the pillow in front of her. Tears of pleasure are streaming down her face, Spencer hands are scratching, grabbing tightly and smacking her ass without mercy and she can't wait to see all the marks he has left her on her body.

She won't be able to sit down if he keeps hurting her like this.

That's exactly what she wants.

His hard grip on her body is contrasted by the softness of his voice. She wasn't expecting this dualism in Spencer, but she loves it and can't wait to experience more of this in her apartment, where they can try more fun things in bed.

“Fuck, Y/N.”

Her name rolls off his tongue like it's made for it.

“I'm almost there, Spencer. - she whispers, pressing her ass back to his hip – Please, fuck me more.”

He wraps his arms around her, moaning in her ear as he thrusts into her as fast as he can. This new rhythm helps him finding the perfect spot that makes Y/N scream louder and arch her back.

“Fuck! Right there, right there!”

Spencer doesn't slow down, wanting to make her come from the sex. He doesn't even need to touch her between her legs because before he can open his mouth, Y/N clenches tightly around him and finally comes, letting the orgasm wash all over her. Her arms give out and her whole body shakes with pleasure, her thighs almost closing and her muscles spasming around him.

“God, fucking Hell, Y/N.”

Y/N keeps whispering his name, trying to move her body against his to help him come. She wants to feel his orgasm, she wants his mouth pressed on her ear, she wants everything he can give her or she'll go crazy. She's already regretting not doing this earlier – she has to send something in order to thank Garcia, Morgan, JJ, Prentiss, Rossi and maybe Hotchner.

Spencer knows his orgasm is about to hit his body and it does right after. He growls against Y/N's right ear, filling her up with his warmth as his mouth nips at the skin of her neck. She scratches his forearm, releasing a little whimper as she feels his come dripping in and out of her as he keeps pushing his hips forward. That was probably the hottest sensation ever.

But.. Did he just come inside of her?

He did. And she'll allow him to do it again, for fuck's sake.

“Shit, Y/N. I am so sorry. - Doctor Reid whispers, pulling out of her body to admire the mess he made inside of her – I didn't even ask you if I could finish here.”

Y/N collapses on the bed, rolling her body over to face him. He looks really worried but she's not, because she's on the pill – so she can't get pregnant, thankfully.

She lifts a hand, caressing his arm as Spencer lays down by her side. She's still trying to catch her breath after what they just did, but he seems just fine – is he used to this? Is he really not that vanilla an inexperienced as Morgan kept saying? Y/N can't wait to find out.

“Don't worry, pretty boy. It's all fine, I would've made you finish inside of me anyway.” Y/N says

Spencer puts a hand over her cheek, forcing her to turn her face. She brushes the tip of her nose against his before kissing his lips once again. This time their kiss is slow, lazy, it's not filled with lust like the last one they've exchanged but they're both fine with that. Y/N doesn't want this night to end, she wants to keep kissing him until she consume his lips but she knows that she can't do that. And that this was probably just a one night stand.

She pulls away and lowers her head, lifting her body as he puts an arm around her waist. Y/N leans against his hard chest and closes her eyes, caressing his hot skin with the tip of her index fingers. She can't believe she just had sex with him, it's fucking crazy.

A comfortable silence washes over the room.

But Spencer breaks it.

“We should've done this earlier.”

Y/N opens her eyes, finding him staring at her. He looks so pretty: his hair are all messed up, his lips are of a dark red shade more swollen than before, his eyes are shining and there's a curious yet relaxed smile on that gorgeous mouth that was between her legs not much long ago.

“I agree. We really needed a little push from the others. - Y/N giggles, lifting her hand to caress his cheek with her eyes on his face – And I can't thank you enough for proving me that there's nothing wrong with my vagina and that my ex boyfriend was just a fucking dickhead.”

Spencer laughs loudly at her words, throwing his head back. “I can finally say it: Leonard was a fucking dickhead and I'm so glad I could make you come while that bastard didn't. I knew I was better than him in bed, at least.”

She laughs along with him, tapping her index on his cheek. “Yes, you are way better than him in bed. And in everything else, pretty much.”

He moves his eyes on her, leaving a kiss on her open lips.

Y/N lays back with her head on his chest and keeps brushing her fingers on his hot skin, travelling down towards his belly button but coming back up to touch his collarbones. She closes her eyes, relaxing her muscles and letting her body finally rest for a few hours before going back home. She doesn't know if Spencer wants her to spend the night there, but she knows she won't be able to actually dress up again and drive towards her house. She's too tired, too sore to even stand up.

Either way, Spencer is not saying anything so she'll stay there. And hopefully, he'll fall asleep before kicking her out or something. Also the blanket is quite comfortable, Spencer's body even more.

“The next time we do this, will you allow me to take you out to dinner first?”

Y/N widens her eyes. “Do you mean...”

Spencer pulls her closer to his body. “Yes, I'm asking you to go on a date with me.” She lifts her body up to look at him in the eyes.

He stares back at her with a soft smile on his bruised lips, his hand placed on her hip ever so gently. Y/N can't say no to him – well, she doesn't want to say no because she has been waiting a long time for this, but yeah.

The point is: Spencer is literally the most attractive man ever, he's smart, romantic, hot and he's fucking good at sex. He made her come!

He's the total package and she won't let anyone steal him from her.

“I thought you'd never ask, sweetcheeks. - Y/N answers with a smirk, giggling when he gives her the most beautiful smile – But next time it'll be my turn to pleasure you.”

Spencer crooks his fingers, asking silently to lean forward. “We'll do whatever you want. I'll be more than happy to spend the whole night kissing and hugging you, princess.”

Y/N closes their distance with another kiss before stepping down from the bed. She grabs her phone from her purse, unlocking her screen; she has to text her mother and ask her to come to her house a bit later.

Y/N doesn't like making other wait for nothing and since she's going to spend the night at Spencer's place, she doesn't know when she'll wake up and when she'll be back at home.

But before she can open her mother's chat on iMessage, Y/N notices a message from JJ.

“So? How did it go? Tell me everything!!”

Y/N replies with a simple winking emoji.

Who knew that night would end so well for both of them?

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

Okay, wow, this is what it looks like I guess? It’s my first ever one shot in english. My first language is italian so there are probably some mistakes in it. I would love to get some feedback, if you’ve enjoyed my little os.

Thank you so much for reading it.

Aurora x

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid smut imagine #spencer reid fluff imagine #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid smut one shot #spencer reid fluff one shot #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x female y/n #spencer reid x y/n imagine #doctor spencer reid #doctor spencer reid smut #doctor spencer reid fluff #doctor spencer reid smut imagine #doctor spencer reid fluff imagine

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7nosecrinkle7 · 3 years

Note

🤧🤚 from the Valentine’s list for natasha please

Thank you for sending this in, and I hope you enjoy! <3

(Sorry if it comes out a bit choppy. I started it before Valentine’s Day and wrapped it up now.)

———————————————————————-

Changing Plans

This was it. Your first Valentine's Day with Natasha. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t nervous, though. You’d been gathering “intel” from the other Avengers about Natasha’s likes, dislikes, and general feelings about the holiday of love in preparation. You had been dating for about a year, so you wanted to make this first Valentine’s Day really special.

Natasha didn’t do holidays. Not really. But, there was something different about what you and Natasha had; something that might just last. You were going all-in to show that to her. You’ve always been a bit of a romantic.

You figured out rather quickly that despite Natasha working closely with all of the Avengers for years, they still didn’t know much about her. They told you about her favorite flowers, but you already knew that answer. Natasha tended to hold private information close, but you were slowly breaking through that wall she had built. It was a process that you were happy to be patient with.

Of course you also had a conversation with Natasha about Valentine's Day. She seemed apathetic about the holiday but not opposed to festivities. You took it as a green light...

...

You stepped back and looked around at the decorations… So you went a bit overboard with the planning. What can you say? You wanted a romantic evening with the Black Widow.

The living room, dining room, and bedroom had been transformed into one giant metaphorical Valentine’s Day explosion. There were red hearts everywhere and red rose petals lining their way towards the bedroom. You had a heart-shaped box of chocolates on the living room table. Next to it were two large bouquets of red roses and a bouquet of pink lilies.

It was all planned out. Thanks to Pepper and her connections, you were able to reserve a spot in the new fancy restaurant that had just been built with a skyline view. That’s where you’d begin your evening: with a romantic dinner looking out over the city. From there, you had planned a short walk through the park. It was a place both of you liked to go to get a clear head and also happens to be where the two of you met. The park would always hold a special place in your heart.

After your walk, you planned to bring her back to the tower to enjoy the setup that you had constructed at her apartment. There was no way to avoid her seeing the decorations beforehand, but that was okay.

At the end of the day, you loved any and all the time you could spend with Natasha.

You sighed, content with the results of your decorating. The sound of a key scrape had you heading to the door. As soon as the door opened you were all smiles.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Natasha,” you said and gave her a hug. You gave her a quick peck on the cheek as you parted from the embrace.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, (Y/N),” Natasha said, returning your smile. She sniffled softly and swiped at her nose.

You closed the door behind her and led her into the living room. Natasha took in the scene.

“Oh, it’s beautiful! You know you didn’t have to do all of this, though, right?”

You shrugged and smoothed out a wrinkle in your evening formal-wear. “I know, but I wanted to do something extra special. I love you everyday, but today it’s socially acceptable to practically shout it from the rooftops just how much I love you.” You couldn’t help it as your cheeks turned a bit pink. For a second you thought you really might’ve done too much.

Natasha set down her mission bag and gently placed a hand on your cheek. “It’s perfect, and you look incredible.”

You believed the sincerity in her eyes. You sighed, relieved, and smiled with a hint of a blush.

“You deserve perfect,” you leaned in and kissed her.

“So,” you said when you pulled away, “we have reservations in an hour, which is just enough time for you to shower and get ready.”

Natasha sniffled again, “sounds good. I’ll go--” She cut herself off with a sneeze.

Hih hngt-shoo! She had bent away from you bringing the back of her hand up to her nose.

“Bless you, Natasha,” you said, a bit surprised.

She sniffled a few more times and shook her head. “Thanks.. I’ll go shower.” And she took off towards the bathroom.

You watched as she walked away, her steps a bit stiffer than normal. Not to mention Natasha rarely sneezed, and when she did, it was almost always completely silent.

The sound of the shower brought you out of your thoughts, only you grew more concerned a few moments later when the sound of two less-restrained sneezes could be heard over the fan and running water. That was her body's tell.

Oh. Natasha’s unwell.

“Right,” you said quietly to yourself. You put your hands on your hips and looked around at the room. Natasha was known for her quick showers, so you had to prepare quickly. If Natasha wasn't well, then what you both needed was each other and a night in. Not the events that you had planned.

So you went about scooping up all of the rose petals, red hearts, flowers, and chocolate. You put the water on to boil as you went and changed into comfier clothing. You also swapped out the outfit Natasha had laid out for herself in exchange for pajamas. Extra blankets and pillows were then deposited onto the sofa just as the kettle on the stove started to whistle.

With a quick jog to the stove, you turned off the burner and poured the hot water into two cups for tea. As you moved the steaming cups to the coffee table, you heard the shower shut off. You checked the time. It had taken Natasha longer than average to shower. She was definitely coming down with something.

The last items of preparation that you needed to do involved a quick phone call to the restaurant to cancel the reservation and a quick apology text to Pepper that you regrettably wouldn’t be going tonight.

Natasha came out of the bedroom still walking a bit stiffly but looking much more relaxed. She sniffled again as she came towards you. You opened up your arms, and she melted into them.

“How’d the mission go,” you asked her quietly.

“Fine. We did what we had to do. It got a little messy, though.”

You hummed in acknowledgement and ran your hand up and down her back. “Well, how about we get under these blankets and relax with a movie? How’s that sound?”

Rather than responding, Natasha brought a hand up around your back and held her knuckles under her nose. Natasha sniffled just before her breath hitched. Hih -- hiiih hngt-shoo... t’schhhoo!

“Bless you, bless you!”

“Sorry,” Natasha mumbled between sniffles.

You kissed the side of her head before stepping out of the hug and grabbing the nearest box of tissues.

“Here,” you said and held the box out. When she took them, you guided her to the sofa and sat down.

You positioned yourself so she would be able to lay back into you. “C’mere,” you said as she leaned back.

“What about the -- mmmmmmh -- reservation?” She asked. A low moan slipped out of her lips as your palms began working slow circles across her back.

“Don’t worry about that. Tonight is still all about you and us. But I get to take care of you and make you feel better.” You leaned forward and kissed the top of her head for a long moment.

“Happy Valentine’s, Nat.”

“Happy Valentine’s, (Y/N).”

#snzfic #snzblr #7nosecrinkle7 #sneezing #snz #sickfic #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff/reader #crinklewrites

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youbloodymadgenius · 3 years

Text

Happiness is Everything (Modern!Ivar x reader)

A/N: This wasn’t requested; I needed to give my boy some love, and a strong bond with Hvitserk. It’s nothing but a silly comfort fic.

@geekandbooknerd - Thank you for beta reading this for me 💖

@zuxiezendler - Thank you 😉🌸 (and you know why)

Let me know if you want to be tagged 😊

Summary: Ivar doesn't want any more set-ups. Hvitserk’s stubborn girlfriend disagrees.

Warnings: a tiny bit of angst due to Ivar’s temper and insecurities; an obvious lack of plot; lack of creativity; fluff+++.

Words: 2575

Stifling a hiss of pain, Ivar flops down on the couch, leaning his crutch against its armrest.

"Here." Hvitserk joins him, handing him a beer before gulping a long sip of his. "So, brother," Hvitserk's face is slightly crumpled as he looks at him, "There's a last-minute change."

With a tight-lipped expression on his face, Ivar frowns. He hates last-minute changes with a passion. "What are you talking about, Hvitserk?" He asks curtly while massaging his right thigh absently.

"Thora will be with us tonight." Hvitserk shrugs, his discomfort obvious.

"Okay." Ivar tilts his head, confused. Every Thursday night, he and his brother spend the night together. Usually at Hvitserk’s place, eating frozen pizzas – a lot of them, Hvitserk being Hvitserk. Most of the time, Thora, who enjoys spending time with her friends, leaves them alone. Sometimes she stays home though, and honestly, it's fine. The truth is, he likes Thora. She's smart and funny, and uncomplicated. Sure, he didn't warm to her right away. It took time. But now, it's okay. He probably won't say it out loud, but yeah, he likes her.

"So…" Raising a brow, Ivar takes a sip of his beer, "It's no big deal." As Hvitserk keeps silent, Ivar scrutinizes him. His brother is clearly nervous and not at ease at all. Ivar slowly licks his lips. "What are you not telling me, brother?" He knows he's right when Hvitserk lowers his gaze.

"Well…" Hvitserk clears his throat, "She won't be alone."

A wide-eyed look on his face, Ivar snarls, pursing his lips. "What does that mean, Hvitserk?" The icy cold tone of his voice matches his hard stare, his knuckles turning white as he clenches his hands into fists.

Hvitserk winces, "You know what it means, brother," before taking a seat in the armchair across from Ivar, the small coffee table between them suddenly highly appreciated. One can never be too careful when facing Ivar's anger.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Clenching his jaw, Ivar bangs his fist on the table, and Hvitserk immediately leans forward, catching his brother's beer just before it falls down.

"I'm not, Ivar. Listen, I'm sorry but Tho–"

Ivar cuts him off, running nervously his hands through his hair. "I can't believe it! Remember the fiasco with Thora's cousin? And then with her colleague? What was her name? Livia? Lisa? See, she didn’t even stay long enough for me to remember. Anyway, I thought I was pretty clear after that, wasn't I? Maybe you and your girlfriend should go and check your hearing, what do you think, hm, brother?" His voice dripping with sarcasm, Ivar gives Hvitserk dagger eyes, his pointer finger tapping the side of his head. "No more set-ups. That's what I said, right? Sounds pretty clear, huh? Do I need to tell it again, brother? Look at my mouth, I wouldn't want you to miss it this time,” He points to his lips then in a sarcastic manner, “No. More. Set-ups. No. More. Blind. Dates." Bottom lip quivering, Ivar, who's boiling mad, struggles to hold back his anger.

"I know, brother…" Hvitserk swallows, rubbing his hand over his face, "but you know Thora means well, don't you? I briefly met Y/N once and honestly, she seemed nice enough. Plus, Thora's not really setting you up. We'll be together, the four of us, here, just eating pizza, it hardly counts as a date, don't you think?"

Disgruntled, Ivar heaves an exasperated sigh, his nostrils flaring. "Stop playing dumb, Hvit, and don't tell me you've never heard of double dates!" He stares at his brother, his pupils dilated, shading his eyes darker blue. "Anyway, it doesn't matter." As he reaches for his crutch, a scowl on his face, Hvitserk stands up, his brow furrowed. "What are you doing?"

"Isn't that obvious?" Ivar mocks him while adjusting his legs in front of him. "I'm leaving!" Shifting his butt forward, he laces his left arm through the metal loop of his crutch, places his right hand on the coffee table, and then slowly hauls himself to his feet, grunting and swearing under his breath. He has a false start, where it seems he's going to fall right back onto the couch, but Hvitserk catches him skilfully, gripping his upper right arm. As soon as he's sure his baby brother has found his balance, Hvitserk releases his arm and Ivar gives him a tight, thank-you smile.

Hvitserk barely nods, as if nothing happened. And gosh, Ivar may be mad at him about this stupid set-up-non-set-up thing, but right now he's feeling mostly grateful. His brother not making a big deal out of his struggles never fails to amaze him.

With any other of his brothers, it wouldn't have been the same.

Bjorn would have looked at him as if he were an utter failure, and then maybe helped him – out of pity, Ivar is sure of that – but not without paternally patting him on the shoulder; or even worse, on the head. The thought makes him cringe and he shakes his head, chasing it away. Bjorn is no longer around anyway, busy traveling around the world with his fourth wife. Or maybe it's the fifth? Ivar lost count a long time ago.

Sigurd would have kicked his crutch out from under him while Ubbe would have forced him to sit down, hovering beside him for far too long, afraid he would slip or stumble, or break a bone. Between Ubbe and Sigurd, between plague and cholera, Ivar is honestly not sure which one is better. Or worse. After all, it's all a matter of perspective.

Fortunately, Hvitserk – his favourite brother, and it is no coincidence – never treats him differently; never belittles him; never mothers nor smothers him. With him, Ivar feels like he's normal.

Gratefulness flooding his mind, a pang of guilt suddenly hits him. He knows that if he leaves, he will put his brother in a difficult position. Though his resolve remains unshaken, Ivar puts a hand on his brother's shoulder, and when he speaks again, it's in a softer voice. "Listen, brother, just tell them I cancelled because I wasn't feeling well, okay?"

Technically speaking, it's not even a lie. Today has been what his beloved mother would have called a 'bad leg day'. The pain coursing through his lower limbs worse and the muscles stiffer than usual, his right leg barely moving due to its swollen joints, he had taken a double dose of painkillers earlier, regrettably with little to no effect.

"Well, brother," Looking out of the window, Hvitserk grimaces, an uneasy grin on the corner of his lips, "I'm afraid it's too late."

As if on cue, the door busts open and a girly chuckle can be heard. Ivar clenches his jaw and tightens his grip on the handle of his crutch. As you and Thora take off your coats and shoes in the doorway, Hvitserk mutters, his mouth on his brother's ear, "Behave Ivar, please. For my sake."

Ivar snorts, exhaling deeply. "I'll try." He closes his eyes and, shaking his head, he mumbles, fighting a lump in his throat. "It's… It's not that easy. Fuck Hvitserk, you don't even know…I wish I wasn’t so angry all the time. I… I might have been happy." His voice, barely a whisper at this point, cracks at the end, and he hates himself for that.

Astounded, Hvitserk isn't even sure he heard right. There's no time left to ask Ivar to repeat himself though, so he somewhat haphazardly decides to comfort him, nevertheless. "You'll get there, brother." He eventually breathes, still stunned by his brother's unexpected admission.

"We're coming!!" Unaware of the tension in the room, Thora shouts enthusiastically before crossing it in two long strides. All smiles, she joins the brothers, winking at her lover and squeezing his hand, and gives Ivar a peck on the cheek followed by a wholehearted hug. She then steps away, gesturing toward you as Hvitserk wraps his arm around her shoulders. "Ivar, this is Y/N."

Reluctantly, Ivar looks in your direction and the moment he sets his eyes on you, his breath catches in his throat and he knows he's screwed. Already smitten. Gods, you're glowing and insanely beautiful. He barely hears Thora's next words. "And Y/N, this is Ivar, Hvitserk's little brother."

A beaming smile on your face, you wave at him before taking two shy steps forward. "Hello, Ivar." Even your voice is wonderful, sweet, and silky, and he can't help but smile back at you, annoyed with himself for being so weak.

Even if he can see the sparkle in your eyes as you look at him, even if your smile is devastating, he knows better.

It won't last. It can't.

For now, standing tall in his brother's living room, he's aware you surely find him attractive. With no false modesty, Ivar knows about his good looks, his huge blue eyes his greatest asset. Of course, you must have noticed the crutch, but the crutch per se is barely a turn-off. You can't see his titanium leg braces, which he stubbornly wears under his pants, even if they often bruise the thin and delicate skin of his calves. You can't see his crippling pain, his struggles. You can't see his distorted bones and his hideous legs. You can't see how disabled, how crippled he really is. But he knows that as soon as he takes a step, you'll get a small glimpse, and then the sparkle will leave your eyes, replaced at best by polite indifference, at worst by pity and disgust.

Yet, there's nowhere to hide from the inevitable. So, he decisively closes the gap between you and him, leaning heavily on his crutch, dragging his useless right leg behind him, and eventually standing right in front of you, he extends his hand. "Nice to meet you." His gaze never leaves your face, Ivar awaiting for you to avert your eyes, but you surprisingly don't. And as you reach out and offer him a firm handshake, your smile never falters, the sparkle still dancing in your eyes.

*** One year later ***

You stir and turn toward him, your hand searching and finding his chest, and then lay your head on his shoulder. Groggy with sleep, you just mumble his name, eyes still closed, before letting out a content sigh and Ivar can't help but smile; you're so adorable.

Wrapping his arm around your waist, he draws you closer, running his fingers along your back and pressing his lips to your head. Rewarded by kisses in the crook of his neck, his free hand settles on your hip, your skin warm and smooth under his fingertips. "Hi," he greets you and buries his nose in your hair, deeply inhaling your scent.

"Hi." You eventually mumble with a raspy voice, now peppering light kisses all over his broad torso. "What were you doing, my love?" Your eyes flutter open and, propping yourself up on your elbow, your other hand flat on his chest, you offer him a warm smile. There's so much love in your eyes, it takes his breath away.

"I was remembering." Ivar smiles fondly at you, grabbing your hand and bringing it to his mouth. "Do you know what day it is?" He asks, gently kissing your knuckles one after the other.

"How could I have forgotten?" You scoot even closer, your breast against his chest, your mouth barely an inch from his. "Today is the anniversary of the day we met, my love. That's what you were thinking about?"

Ivar nods before laying you down on the bed tenderly. He then sits up, running his hands through his hair. "I remember as though it were yesterday, you know? I still can't believe you didn't run away." Sitting behind him, you wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his shoulders, trapping him in your embrace, in your love. "You stayed…", his voice trembles as he gestures to his legs, hidden under the sheets, "… you stayed in spite of… of them…" He swallows loudly and your heart aches.

Resting your head on his left shoulder, you shake your head. "No, my love, I didn’t stay in spite of your legs, but because of them."

Ivar is looking downward but as soon as the words escape your lips, he snaps his head to the side, a frown flitting across his face, and gives you a confused and slightly upset look. "What do you… What do you mean?" He stammers, suddenly tense.

Shifting in the bed, you carefully straddle him, tilting his chin with a curled finger and forcing him to meet your gaze. "Don't get me wrong, Ivar. I'm not especially attracted to your legs. It's not some kind of weird fetish. I stayed because of what is in here." You put your finger on his forehead, and then over his heart. "And here. But your legs made you who you are. And you're different. A good kind of different. You don't think like other men. That's what I love the most about you. You're unpredictable; you always surprise me. You wouldn't have been who you are without your legs." A gentle hand sliding under the sheets, your fingers graze his scarred skin. "With two working legs, who knows what you would have been. You probably would have been a presumptuous womanizer like Bjorn. Or you might have been as boring as Ubbe; as careless as Hvitserk; as annoying as Sigurd. You are who you are, infuriating, smart, and stubborn, and, I must say, breathtakingly handsome, and I love you exactly the way you are."

Ivar just looks at you for a long time, a small smile playing on his lips. Raising his right hand, he cups your face. "Never stop telling me you love me, Y/N. Please..." You never saw him so willingly vulnerable before, and it breaks your heart – you never want him to doubt himself – as much as it fills you with joy – he trusts you enough to share his insecurities with you.

You answer him without missing a beat. "I won't. I love you more than my own life. I love you bigger than the sky and its stars, I love you to the moon and back. I love you like I never thought I could. Loving you is a blessing, a precious gift, the meaning of my life. I love you and only you, Ivar Lothbrok."

Blinking a few times, Ivar heaves a shuddering breath. Tears come to his bright blue eyes and the expression on his face is unreadable; fragile and strong all at once. He opens his mouth as if to say something, but then closes it. Staring into space, he seems lost.

Stroking his cheek, you bring him back to the here and now, back to you, kissing his earlobe, his jaw, his neck, before returning briefly to his mouth. "What is it, Ivar?"

Your lover shrugs, "Nothing, really," and pulls you closer, his hands on your back, his breath on your face, his manly scent enticing you. "Or more accurately…", he whispers in your ear, "… Nothing, yet everything."

Not understanding what he's getting at, you keep quiet, just staring at him, confusion obvious in your eyes. He then offers you a mind-blowing smile, and your heart nearly jumps out through your mouth at his next words.

"I may be happy. Actually, I think I am."

🛡⚔️🛡

@honestsycrets @lisinfleur @waiting4inspiration @saldelys @gearhead66 @inforapound @readsalot73 @milkkygirls @xbellaxcarolinax @shannygoatgruff @zuxiezendler @a-mess-of-fandoms @hecohansen31 @lonewolf471 @ivarthebloodyking @fuckindiva @tgrrose @didiintheblog @peachyboneless @funmadnessandbadassvikings @ethereallysimple @destynelseclipsa @coco2315 @mlchael-guerin @pieces-by-me

#ivar #ivars heathen army #ivar the boneless #ivar ragnarsson #ivar lothbrok #modern ivar #modern ivar x reader #modern!ivar #modern!ivar x reader #modern-ivar #ivar imagine #ivar fanfic #ivar fic #ivar fanfiction #ivar vikings #vikings ivar #vikings fic #vikings #comfort fic

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pocket-luv101 · 3 years

Text

Summary: Kuro finds Mahiru asleep in his pub. (KuroMahi, Modern AU)

“It was busy tonight. I’ll close up the kitchen so you can go to study for your exam, JeJe.” Kuro told his brother. The family owned a small pub and they would often work late. He was tired himself but he thought it was important for his siblings to focus on school. “Wrath will get angry at both of us if she thinks that I made you work late instead of doing your school work.”

Their conversation was interrupted when Hyde entered the kitchen and said: “We have a problem with a customer. He’s your regular and he’s asking for you, Kuro.”

“Me?” Kuro wondered what the customer could want with him. He didn’t have anyone he would consider a regular customer either. He rarely worked as a bartender since he preferred to cook in the kitchen. His siblings were better at small talk so he would leave the job to them. The pub was quiet so the customer wasn’t violent or angry. He wiped his hands and said, “Can you tell me what to expect?”

“You’ll call it ‘troublesome’.” Hyde told him and took the hand towel he had been using to wipe the counter. He started to clean the kitchen for him while Kuro stepped out of the room. His brother’s description of the customer was vague and he didn’t know what to expect. At first, he didn’t see who the person was and he thought the bar was empty.

He scanned the room and he noticed someone sitting at the bar with their head resting on the table. It was clear that the person had fallen asleep and Kuro sighed. He didn’t know why Hyde asked him to deal with the customer when he could’ve simply woken the man and called a cab for him. Kuro was glad that the problem wasn’t an angry drunk at least.

He stood next to the sleeping man and lightly shook his shoulder. As the man shook his head, Kuro was able to see his face and he gasped softly. He never expected to see Mahiru again, yet here he was. He could only stare at him while the memories of their relationship came back to him.

They had broken up the month before they graduated high school. The tears that Mahiru had that day still stabbed at his heart and Kuro traced his fingers over his cheek. Mahiru had the opportunity to go to a prestigious college and it would allow him to pursue his dream of becoming a photographer. But the school was in another city. Kuro didn’t want their relationship to hold Mahiru back from accomplishing his dreams. He made the difficult decision to break up.

“Kuro…” Mahiru mumbled his name in his sleep and his voice pulled him out of his memories.

“What am I going to do?” Kuro whispered and ran his hand through his hair. He was still in love with Mahiru so he didn’t know how he could face him after their break up. He didn’t know if he came to the bar to see him again but a small part of him hoped that he had. With a shake of his head, he reminded himself, “Don’t be selfish. Mahiru is better off without you.”

Despite those words, Kuro found himself gravitating to Mahiru. They hadn’t seen each other for a year but he hadn’t changed in that time. His face still had the soft and vulnerable expression whenever he slept and the sight made Kuro feel protective of him. Mahiru moved in his sleep and he almost fell off the stool but then Kuro caught him. “You could’ve chosen a better place to sleep.”

He slipped an arm under Mahiru’s knees and supported his back with his other hand. Slowly, he lifted Mahiru off the chair and took him to a lounge chair in the corner of the bar. When he held him close to his chest, he could smell alcohol on his breath. Had he been drinking before he fell asleep at the bar? He would have to lecture his brother about letting him drink too much.

Kuro was careful to not wake him as he lowered him onto the lounge couch. Then, he took off his jacket and draped it over Mahiru so he would be warm. He sat next to him and considered what he should do. Should he wake him and talk? Would it be best to have one of his siblings wake him and send him home?

They hadn’t spoken since the break up and Kuro wondered if college had been stressful on Mahiru. There were dark circles under his eyes so he was likely tired and needed sleep. He decided that it was best to let him sleep on the couch and watch over him. A part of him knew that he chose to let him sleep so he could avoid facing him again.

Unconsciously, he started to stroke his brown hair like he would in the past. Mahiru’s face relaxed under his touch and the small change squeezed Kuro’s heart. One of the things he loved about Mahiru was how honest his expressions were. Seeing him again brought back the regret he thought he had let go. They would call each other a few times after he moved to his new school but Kuro eventually stopped picking up his phone. It was painful to hear his voice when he couldn’t hold him.

“Kuro…” He spoke again. Mahiru turned on his side and hugged the jacket around him. The subtle scent of spices and seasoning that clung to the jacket reminded him of Kuro. In high school, he would visit him after the bar closed and his clothes would smell like spices from working in the kitchen. He realized that the cushions beneath him felt much stiffer than his bed and he sat up in confusion.

His eyes fell onto Kuro next to him. Mahiru opened his mouth to say his name yet he couldn’t form words. He had imagined a thousand different things he would say to Kuro if he ever met him again. They were a happy couple and he didn’t understand why Kuro suddenly broke up with him. He was upset and angry at first but now he only wanted an explanation.

Kuro was the first to speak. “You fell asleep on the counter and I was worried you would fall off the chair. I moved you onto the couch. Do you have a headache or feel sick? I can call a cab to take you home if you can’t drive. Your eyes look alert but your face is a little flushed.”

“I only had two drinks. That’s not enough to make me drunk even if I’m a lightweight.” Mahiru didn’t tell him that his blush was caused by how close Kuro was. He tried to stand but his legs were a little unsteady beneath him. His gaze fell to the ground in embarrassment and sank back onto the chair. A hand fell over his shoulder and he looked back to Kuro.

There was only kindness in his red eyes and Mahiru bit his lip. “Don’t look at me like that, Kuro. You’re going to give me the wrong idea of how you feel.”

“I’m sorry.” He took his hand back and sat next to him on the couch. Kuro didn’t want to see the pain in his else because he knew he would try to comfort him if he did. He broke his heart and he thought he didn’t deserve to hold him. An awkward silence surrounded them and he searched for something to change the subject. “Are you here on break?”

“The first semester ended and I decided to come home to visit my uncle. I’ve been busy with classes and I haven’t been able to stay in touch with everyone. I should go home before my uncle starts to worry. He isn’t as paranoid as Misono’s dad but I don’t want to make him worry.” Mahiru stood and slipped on the jacket. He didn’t notice that the jacket belonged to Kuro. “The cold air will help me become sober again.”

“I’ll walk you home.” He offered. “It’s dangerous to walk alone in the dark, especially when you’re tipsy. We already closed the bar so my siblings don’t need me here anymore.”

“Thank you.” Mahiru accepted but there was a brief moment of hesitation in his voice. He didn’t say anything further as he stepped out of the bar with Kuro by his side. The cold air made him shiver and he pulled the jacket’s zipper higher. He realized that he had put on Kuro’s jacket unintentionally yet he hadn’t commented on it. He reasoned that he could return the jacket once they reached his home.

He lived only a few blocks from the pub and Mahiru found himself dragging his feet to spend more time with Kuro. When he visited the bar, he hoped he could see Kuro again and speak with him. He ordered a few drinks for courage but he ended up falling asleep on the counter. Mahiru watched Kuro in the corner of his eyes. “How has business been?”

“We’ve gotten more customers. Since I graduated, I’ve been putting more hours into the pub and that helped keep down costs. Hopefully, the pub will bring in enough money to put Hugh and the others through school.” Their father had abandoned their family and Kuro did his best to support his younger siblings. Mahiru knew how important his family was so he couldn’t leave them. “What about you, Mahiru? I heard that your photos were featured in your college’s showcase.”

“Yes. I must’ve taken a thousand photos for the showcase. Art school is more work than people like to joke about.” Mahiru smiled wearily. “I threw myself into my work because I wanted to distract myself from our breakup. I couldn’t fully forget you though. The day I had to choose a photo to submit to the showcase, I came across this old picture. It was the reason I wanted to be a professional photographer.”

Mahiru took out a picture from when they were younger. The edges of the paper were worn from age. In the photograph, Kuro was asleep with a cat resting on his chest. “I wanted to take pictures of experiences and landscapes to share with others. While I was in class, each time I took a photo, I thought ‘I can’t wait to show this to Kuro’. Then I had to remind myself we broke up.”

“You deserve someone better than me, Mahiru.” Kuro stopped walking. “I’m sorry.”

“When you broke up with me, you said that it was because you cheated on me. I didn’t believe it then and I don’t believe it now. We’ve known each other for years and you’re not the type to cheat. It’ll be too troublesome.” Mahiru stood in front of Kuro and faced him. He cupped his cheeks and moved his gaze down to him. “Can you lie to my face and say you cheated on me?”

“I…” He started but then he looked into Mahiru’s large eyes. Kuro didn’t know how he was able to lie to him before. He had lied to him when they broke up because he knew Mahiru wouldn’t accept his true reason. He would’ve insisted that they try to have a long distance relationship but Kuro was worried it would hold Mahiru back. “I’m sorry, Mahiru.”

“For cheating or lying to me? Please, Kuro, I need to know why you broke up with me.” His voice started to break in time with his heart. “I loved you and I thought you felt the same way.”

Suddenly, Kuro gathered him into his arms and buried his face into his neck. He held him tight but Mahiru didn’t mind and hugged him in return. He slowly ran his hand down his back to feel his warmth after being apart for so long. Mahiru whispered, “Why did you lie to me?”

“I thought if I hurt you by lying, you wouldn’t have any regrets going to college. That school has been your dream for years. I need to be here to support my siblings and I don’t have a lot to give you. If anything, I’ll hold you back from your dreams.” Kuro didn’t lift his face from his neck and Mahiru could feel his warm breath against his skin.

“I understand, Kuro, I really do. Your family is important to you and I could never ask you to move to Tokyo where my school is. But couldn’t you have talked to me instead of breaking up with me the way you did? It hurt.” Kuro leaned back and tenderly ran his hand over his cheek to comfort him. Mahiru touched his hand and looked up at him.

Mahiru lifted himself onto his toes and kissed Kuro softly. “I could’ve gone to school in Tokyo and still date you. It would’ve been a lot of work but I’m willing to do it if it meant I can be with you. Aren’t we worth the effort?”

“You’re one of the most important things to me.” Kuro brought their joined hands to his lips and kissed his fingertips softly. “I thought I was doing what was best for your future by leaving but I only hurt you. I’m sorry, Mahiru. Will you take me back?”

“That’s the reason I came to your bar.” Mahiru smiled up at him. “Will you stay the night at my apartment? We have a lot to catch up on.”

#servamp #kuromahi #sloth pair #servamp kuro #mahiru shirota #fanfiction

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refuge-au · 3 years

Note

>Open the Captain's File

Xisuma: Break the News

The model in the center of the entrance hall spun slowly, the mechanical, to scale, planets orbiting the massive sun at a rate thousands of times faster than their real counterparts did. The fake sun glowed softly, it’s light dimming briefly as Jupiter crossed between it and the man viewing it. Jupiter’s moons and the metallic arms that held them above the ground created a spiderweb pattern of shadows on the ground that slowly swept across the body of the visitor as it moved.

Xisuma stood several feet away from the center of the solar system model, his eyes tracing the path of Earth as it came out from behind the sun in an almost melancholy way. His brown hair was tied back in a short ponytail, his beard freshly trimmed- although you couldn’t see it at all thanks to the respirator he was wearing. He had even gone to the trouble of putting on one of his more casual dress uniforms.

The effort hadn’t gone unnoticed by the museum staff, drawing a couple of confused looks and some whispers, but he did his best to ignore him. What he had to say wouldn’t go over well, so he might as well look nice. Get some compliments.

The door opened, and the employee greeted the group of people that walked in cheerfully. X turned around, taking a deep breath, and smiled. Show time.

An older woman, just a bit shorter than him, her hair almost completely white, was pushing the wheelchair of a man that someone might have mistaken for him, if his hair weren't as white as hers and his face covered in scars. The woman checked in at the front desk quickly, showing a pass, and then turned and saw him, her eyes crinkling in a smile.

She walked over to Xisuma, the man in the wheelchair saying something and rolling over to the other side of the model.

“Hey, mom.” He said, trying to ignore the way his bottom lip trembled when she pulled him into a hug, her respirator digging into his shoulder.

“You’re all dressed up.” She said, stepping back and putting a hand to his cheek in the way that she always had when they were little. “You look nice, honey.”

“Thank you.” He said, bringing his hand up to cover hers. “You look nice too.”

She chuckled, patting the side of his face and then putting her hand down. “Oh, stop. I didn’t realize that this was going to be a formal dress event, or I would’ve thrown on something besides my work clothes.”

“It’s not a formal dress event, I just felt like cleaning up a bit.” Xisuma shrugged, hoping that the tension in his shoulders didn’t betray the news that he was bringing. “Haven’t had the opportunity to wear this in a bit, got a discount on museum admission, you know.”

She smiled at him again, but her eyes seemed… sad. “…Xisuma, we’re very proud of you. You know that, right?”

“I know.” He replied. “You don’t have to worry about that.”

She didn’t say anything for a moment, just looking at him, as if she was searching for an answer to an unspoken question in his eyes. Whatever she found there didn’t seem to change her emotions, her soft smile and that strange sadness remaining as she pulled her purse to the front of her, opening it.

“You should go talk to your brother, dear. I need to go change my filter before I forget.”

“You didn’t change it before you came here? Mom…”

She waved one hand in the air as she continued to move things around in her purse with the other. “The alert came just as we got inside. A few minutes on a bad filter isn’t going to kill me.”

“…Alright. We’ll wait for you.” Xisuma said, and his mother waved him off as he headed over to the other side of the model where his twin brother was sitting, staring up at the planets in silence.

He reached his side, and stopped. Neither of them spoke for what seemed like forever.

Finally his brother spoke. “Xisuma.”

“Xenelis.” He replied, looking down to find his twin’s steely grey eyes staring up at him.

“Where are they sending you this time?” Xenelis’ voice was quiet, raspy- although he didn’t know if it was from the medical grade respirator attached to his mouth and nose or from his vocal cords being underused.

Xisuma started. “What? What do you mean?”

“You didn’t visit us at home or at the hospital, you called us out. You’re dressed up, but you didn’t tell us that this was a formal event. You’re stiffer than usual, which is saying something, and you look like you’re homesick even though you’re a fifteen minute commute away from your apartment.” Xenelis said, his voice carefully void of all emotion. “Where are they sending you?”

Xisuma looked away, breaking eyes contact and staring up at the solar system spinning above him. “Off planet.”

“Out of galaxy?”

“Yes.”

“How far?”

Xisuma didn’t respond for a moment too long, and that was all the answer that his brother needed. His sigh, heavy and full of disappointment and bitterness, hit Xisuma like a bullet to the heart.

“Of course.” Xenelis said. “Well, congratulations. You did it. You left us behind, just like you always wanted too. Good job, bro.”

“Damnit, Xen, you know that’s not-“ Xisuma rounded on his brother, hands automatically going to his hips.

“It’s not? It’s not? It sure as hell looks like it is. You’ve been leaving our whole lives, Iz- it’s just nonstop leaving and leaving and leaving- and now you finally don’t have to come back!” Xenelis snapped. “Good for you! Living your dream!”

“This mission is for the sake of the entire planet! I can’t just refuse to go on a mission that might make or break the human race-“

“Of course you can! You’re not the only high ranking officer out there! They could’ve found someone else, anyone else!”

“They came to me, specifically, asked me to pick out a crew, told me that we would save the world- how am I supposed to turn that offer down? You would’ve taken it in an instant-“

“Not if you were in my position I fucking wouldn’t’ve-!”

“Boys?” Their mom called from the other side of the model.

“Coming, mom.” They chorused automatically, shooting each other a glare. Xisuma walked around one side of the model and Xenelis rolled around the other, meeting in the middle.

Their mother smiled at both of them, apparently unaware of the argument that had been rapidly escalating until she entered the conversation. “There you are. Shall we go look at the new exhibits? I heard they had one about the Titanic.”

“Sure, mom.” Xisuma said, falling into step behind her as she led the way into the museum.

The visit was… cordial. Their mother chatted with both of them about equally, talking about this and that, whatever came to her mind. She was probably trying to fill the heavy silence that fell between the twins, Xenelis refusing to speak to Xisuma, and vice versa.

When they reached the end of their museum tour, pausing in the aquarium section before they left, Xisuma bit the bullet.

“Mom,” he said, folding his hands behind his back. “I have something I need to tell you.”

“Go ahead, dear.” She said absently, watching as a massive manta ray swam overhead.

Bathed in the blue light from the massive aquarium tank, she and Xenelis looked almost peaceful. Gods only knew how made Xen really was, however, and Xisuma knew that it was only a trick of the light. Or maybe it was a trick of the mind, him trying to convince himself that him leaving wouldn’t hurt them as much as he knew it would.

“…I’m leaving.” He said, turning to watch as the manta continued on its way. “They’re sending me on a mission to deep space.”

Her eyes closed momentary, steeling herself as she turned to him. “Deep space?”

“Past Centauri.” He said quietly. “They’re building a team of scientists and researchers to start colonizing a new planet.”

“Why so far away?” She asked, her voice trembling slightly.

“Mars can’t sustain a population like Earth’s, and after the Venus colonies failed… the galaxy isn’t suitable for life anymore. You know it’s true, mom. You’ve watched it happen. Think of how different things are now from when you were a kid.” His tone was soft, but he knew that there was a hint of pleading in there somewhere. She must understand. She wouldn’t be mad at him too, right?

“I know, I know, but… but of all people, why you?” Her voice broke, tears beginning to roll down her cheeks.

Xisuma’s heart sank as he stepped forward, hugging her. “They couldn’t find anyone better to do it. Mom-“

“When will you come home?” She asked, her voice thick with tears.

“I don’t know.” Maybe never. “I… don’t know.”

She cried for a while, and her sons remained in silence, one other knowing what to say, and the other not wanting to say anything.

When she finally stopped, she only had positive things to say. She was proud of him, she was sure he was going to do great, they would be able to communicate, even if it wasn’t face to face… but that sorrow in her eyes that he had noticed before was much more prevalent.

Had she expected this?

Was he really as predictable as Xen said he was?

They said their goodbyes just outside the museum. His mother hugged him tightly, told him she would see him soon.

Xenelis’ eyes crinkled in what he knew was some form of a mocking smile or sneer. “I hope you have fun, Iz.”

“I’m not leaving right away. I’ll see you again.”

“That’s what you always say.” Xen retorted sharply, turning and rolling away towards the ramp down to the street, where their mother was already waiting.

Xisuma stood at the door to the museum and watched them get into a car and fade out of sight, his heart heavy in his chest.

Computer: New Command unlocked!

Computer: Input the command Profile: [Name] to open the file associated with that person. Please note: some files or portions of files may not be available due to clearance levels.

Computer: Input Command: Show Available Files:

> Open the Pilot’s File.

> Open the Doctor’s File.

> Continue.

#prologue #we become aware of the void as we fill it // xisuma #refuge au #refuge arg #hermitcraft refuge au #hermitcraft refuge arg #hermitcraft au #hermitcraft #Xisuma #evil xisuma #long post ((read more to be added later))#inputted commands #content warning: language

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aibari · 3 years

Text

safe returns

a @destielsecretsanta2020 gift for @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover

notes: this fic is set after the s15 finale. there’s a bit of canon-typical grief at the start, but this is a fix-it fic :)

read on ao3

Afterwards, the world knits itself back together slowly, like broken bones healing. People come back to their loved ones, but not all at once, filing in gradually. Dean guesses they've had a long way to go. Wherever the hell they went, when Chuck had punted them out of existence.

So it's a slow and gradual thing, and it sucks. He catches himself out constantly, thinking that maybe -

And then Sam will give him a concerned look, so understanding and careful it makes him feel like he's been skinned alive.

And he knows by now what that feels like.

Anyway, the point is that while people are still coming back, he can't quite let go of the thought that Cas might, too. Even if he's in the Empty. Even if it's dumb as hell to think that it could ever -

So. The thought sits in his chest like a tumor metastasizing, like a rusty fishhook, like a birdcage. Hope is a thing with feathers, or however the fuck that saying goes.

He can't think about it for too long. If he does, he starts needing a drink, starts to feel his jaw lock up. Can't touch it, or he'll slice his fingers open.

So instead of thinking about it, he joins a pie eating competition. Goes on a series of hunts with Sam that all resolve easy. Drinks beer and sleeps in motels and eats greasy diner food, and it's familiar in a way that's both familiar and deeply fucking depressing if he lets himself think about it. He's forty-one, he's helped defeat God, and he's still doing this shit? Does he even know how to be anything else? Does he have it in him?

Six months after the end of Chuck, the stream of people showing back up slows to a trickle and then dries up. Dean takes his fragile hope and buries it as deep as it will go.

So it goes.

He dreams about Cas, which is business as usual. Dreams with Cas used to mean something, and maybe that something was covert fraternization and angel politics, most of the time, but it was Cas. Now it's just trauma. Dean sits on their bench, and Cas sits next to him, and Cas says:

Because you cared, I cared.

And Dean says:

Don’t do this, Cas.

And then he starts to choke, words and letters pushing up against the back of his throat like yesterday's dinner.

Cas is still talking, words fading in and out like a radio with bad reception, and his hand rests heavy on Dean's arm, and he says:

"Dean."

And then Dean wakes up, gasping, staring up at the water-stained motel room ceiling.

The handprint on his shoulder burns.

He stumbles into the bathroom to splash water on his face and then stands there, hands clutching the edges of the sink, staring blankly at his own reflection.

There's a pull in his chest, tethered somewhere under his ribs.

He takes a deep breath, and then another.

Then he wakes up Sam, who groans and then squints at him in the half-dark of the room. The light of the neon sign outside paints a violet streak across his cheek.

“Dean, what -?” Sam says. “What’s going on, what time is it?”

“Don’t worry your sweet little head about it, Sammy,” Dean says. “Just got a little something to take care of, so I’m heading out.”

Sam frowns at him. “What do you mean, out?”

“What are you, some kind of detective?”

“Dean,” Sam says, with the kind of heavy, long-suffering bitchiness that means he’s gonna get passive aggressive about it.

Dean doesn’t have that kind of time. “I’m going to Minnesota and I’m gonna have to go there alone.”

Sam opens his mouth to say something.

“Don’t say anything, Sam,” Dean grits out.

“I wasn’t gonna,” Sam says, like a liar.

Dean rolls his eyes at him and starts packing. It takes about a minute; it’s not like any of them ever really unpack.

There’s a joke in there, somewhere, Dean thinks, jaw clenching despite himself.

“Dean,” Sam says from behind him. Dean freezes in the middle of stuffing a t-shirt into the bag, unable to turn around and look at him.

“What,” he asks, stiff like set concrete.

“Just promise me you won’t do anything stupid,” Sam says, like he has his own ideas about where Dean is going. “Promise me, alright?”

“Sure,” Dean says. It’s a like, but he’s pretty sure they both know it.

It’s not like he even knows where he’s going, exactly.

He doesn’t even know what he’s going there for. He just knows that he has to.

He finishes packing and they say their goodbyes. Sam bitches about it when he takes the impala, but Eileen will be coming up later in the day to discuss some kind of hunt developments. Sam will be fine.

Whether or not Dean will be fine might be a different question.

He’ll figure it out.

He takes the I-35 up through Illinois and Iowa, barely stopping to take a piss. The burn of the handprint has settled into something gentler, but it still throbs in a telltale heart rhythm. He thinks about Cas, at the end, standing tall and telling Dean that he loved him.

It makes his jaw go tight.

He turns up the music. It’s Creedence, and he sings along as hard as he can stand, white-knuckling the wheel.

“That’s real healthy,” he murmurs to himself in the space between songs, but it does help to have something in the car that isn’t his own thoughts, his own fuck-ups and messes.

The closer he gets to Minnesota, the stronger the pull gets.

He’s playing with fire, not doing the research and going in solo like this. Whatever’s pulling at him could be freaking anything.

But it won’t be.

He knows that for sure, even if he doesn’t know exactly what it is.

He just has a feeling.

After he crosses state lines the final time, rolling on into Minnesota, he stops at a diner for dinner. He gets a burger and fries, and by this point he is so full of whatever thing is pulling him forward it’s hard to stop moving. His ribcage feels like it’s full of bees.

He keeps thinking about Cas.

“This is you, isn’t it,” he murmurs. “Whatever’s happening here. It’s about you.”

No-one answers him, but he’s used to that by now.

He can fill a silence like nobody’s business, so he launches into a rambling review of the music on the regional radio station, (bland enough to give Wonderbread a run for its money,) the scenery (cold and snowy), and the present company (non-existent; please, Cas, come back to me).

The waitress keeps looking at him funny. When he goes to leave, she won’t let him pay. For a second, he thinks she might be interested, but then she gives him a soft, sad look and tells him about how her partner had taken months longer than her to come back, and that she understands what he’s going through, that he shouldn’t give up hope, and then he has to go.

He sits in the parking lot for a while, hands on the steering wheel, wishing he’d paid more attention to the mindfulness kick Sam’s been on for the past month.

He can’t stop thinking about the look on Cas’ face, right before -

Fuck.

If he were in any other car, he’d be punching the dashboard.

He turns up the music again instead, and wipes his face, and gets back to driving.

So it goes.

He stops at a motel by the interstate and stumbles out the morning after to a bright winter’s day. The sky is blue enough that he has to squint against it; the snow crunches under his boots. With every breath, the cold air knifes down his throat.

He follows the pull of his invisible line.

The forest is quiet. The snow muffles all sound but the crunch of his boots, which reverberate like gunshots. Dean makes a quick mental inventory of Minnesota monsters. He’s unprepared for most of them; if any of them show up, or if this is a trap, he’ll be up shit creek. He’d probably deserve it, too, coming here like this.

He walks for hours, pulled forward, chest sweetly aching and handprint throbbing to the beat of his own heart.

By the time he reaches the field, he’s almost lost track of time.

It’s just a large, empty space. If it hadn’t been covered in snow in the middle of winter, it’d make a sweet concert space.

There’s no-one else here, but -

(something in his chest wrenches)

-then there is.

A man in a trenchcoat stumbles into the clearing, and Dean knows him. He knows him, with a bright and certain rush of heat that leaves him breathless.

“Cas!” he yells, and hears the answering, “Dean!” and then he’s running and laughing and tearing up at the same time. He’s a mess, but he can’t help it, couldn’t stop it if he tried. They meet in the middle and it’s like a scene from Love freaking Actually, hugging each other tightly and spinning each other around. Cas smells like petrichor and ozone and day-old sweat. The stitching on his coat is rough and reassuring under Dean’s fingers. He never wants to let him go.

“Thank you,” Cas says, serious as a freshly dug grave, “for meeting me.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, buddy,” Dean says. Then he leans back a little to look Cas properly in the eye. “Cas,” he says. “Earlier. I said the wrong thing.”

Cas gives him an expectant look. His hands are fisting into Dean’s coat. “What did you want to say, Dean?”

The way he says his name makes Dean shudder. He swallows thickly. “I. Back when you - I said don’t do this, but what I should have said was - me too, Cas.”

Cas tilts his head slightly to the side, like he’s confused by something. Dean had almost forgotten what shade of blue they were.

“What?” Dean asks, as softly as he can, which isn’t much. He’s not good at this. Not with Cas. Not yet, but hopefully - if he dares to hope - hopefully soon.

“You don’t have to humor me, Dean,” Cas says, stiffer than a freaking fridge magnet in a freezer. “I know I’m not what you -”

And Dean can’t stand hearing him finish that sentence, can’t stand not having them be on the same page.

“Alright, fuck this,” he says, and pulls Cas down into a kiss.

#supernatural #i write stuff #writing the first half of this felt like being mildly posessed #destiel #deancas

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surferboypizzas · 3 years

Text

The Reconciliation

summary: an ahs; coven fix-it-fic in which zoe tricks kyle and madison into reconciling.

warning: this fic includes discussion of s*xual assault and death. also swearing.

what you need to know about this au before reading:

Zoe was friends with Kyle before he died, and when Zoe and Madison brought zombified Kyle back to the coven, he was taken in by the small school.

There never was (and is not currently) anything romantic or sexual going on between Zoe, Madison, and Kyle.

Kyle did attempt to kill madison, he did not succeed. Ironically, he was stopped by Zoe, who (newly resurrected by Cordelia) ran upstairs after hearing screaming.

Fiona did not "fix" (I hate using that word in relation to him, but still) Kyle the way she does in the show.

The school has not been opened up to other witches outside of the coven, but this is a while after the events of Coven.

Misty and Nan are alive.

Madison and Zoe aren't gross people. Think of a gross bad thing they've done? It's gone. I've erased it. Never happened. We all know Queenie is the only canonically good person who is also a witch student in Coven.

~~~

"Ok. Now, Kyle, you go first." Zoe speaks from her space in between Kyle and Madison, who are standing across her room from each other. Snow falls outside, and the school’s old heater creaks in the background. For the last two weeks, Zoe had been waiting for the perfect moment to trap these two in a room together and convince them to make amends. Kyle turns to look at Zoe with a face of pure disbelief.

“Sh-” He points to Madison with his eyes wide, “She ki-killed me!”

Zoe looked at him with her arms crossed. “And you tried to kill her! C’mon, Kyle. Please just- apologize?” Kyle squinted at her and then sighed, nodding his head and pressing his palms together nervously while he turned back to Madison.

“I’m so-rry. Sorry.” He apologized half-heartedly. He could never say no to his friends, especially Zoe.

Madison smiled and sarcastically placed her hand over her heart. “Well, that was moving. I think we really made a breakthrough here! Thanks, Kyle! See ya!" Madison starts to make her way out of the room before Zoe grabs her arm to keep her from leaving. Madison slows to a stop right in front of the door.

“Madison.” When Madison still didn’t turn to look at her, Zoe uses her nickname. “Mads, you made up with Misty, who you actually tried to kill, is it so hard to make up with Kyle?" Madison rolled her eyes at Zoe’s trademark ‘mom tone’ that she only used with her. She hated how Zoe had started to shift the way she spoke to be tailored to each person around her. At first, Madison thought it was just some weird baby voice she used on Kyle, until one day she realized Zoe had given her a baby voice too. That she had started treating Madison like she was going to throw a fit if not handled in a specific way. She finally turns back to face Zoe.

“Give me one reason why I should, and- don’t give me that ‘because I said so’ bullshit," Madison says. Zoe pauses for a second before pulling both Madison and herself back to their original spots.

“Listen up, you are both very important to me and the rest of our family,” Zoe started (Madison already wanted to Vincent van Gogh her ears off), “and it would mean a lot if you two were to make up. I love you both, and I just want the people I love to get along. Is that really so hard to understand and achieve?” Zoe ends her sentence looking at Madison with a slightly pleading look.

Madison glances at Kyle and sees how easily his grumpy face melted into a grin at the word ‘family’ and rolls her eyes. “Fine.” She spoke, then sees Kyle’s smile grow. “Not for you, dumbass. For Zoe.” Kyle blinks at her dumbfounded, but not quite offended. Zoe looks between the two, she is clearly thrilled that her plan is working, but is attempting to contain her delight.

"So... I'm like... sorry. I guess." Madison says, clearly uncomfortable. Zoe moves her hand signaling her to keep going, (this is also an attempt to teach Kyle non-punchy conflict resolution skills, after all). So Madison restarts. this time actually looking Kyle in the eye.

"I'm... I'm sorry. I'm sorry for killing you, and I'm sorry for bringing you back." Kyle’s face twists in confusion at those last words, why would she be sorry for bringing him to the coven? Was she being sarcastic? It didn't feel like she was. He thinks Madison is finished for a moment, but she continues. "I'm going to be soft as hell for a second, so Kyle, listen up because I will never repeat this. Ever. And if you bring this up ever again I will gaslight the shit out of you and deny it ever happened. Now, you," she pointed at Zoe, "Need to leave so that I can be honest."

“Wait- me?” Zoe points at herself in confusion.

“No bitch, the ghost behind you. Yes, you. Trust me.” Madison says, gesturing at her to leave the room. Kyle and Zoe look at each other (Kyle seeming a little nervous), then Zoe nods and exits the room, closing the door behind her. For a moment Zoe considers eavesdropping through the door, but then decides to take the moral high ground... and considers listening with a spell instead.

Madison walks around Kyle to drape herself over Zoe’s soft chair by the window, and Kyle sits on Zoe’s bed, having to carefully move her books to do so. There is a moment of awkward silence, and Kyle starts picking at the fuzzballs on his red sweater. He wants to give her time to think of what she wants to say. His eyes snap up to hers when she starts speaking again.

"I'm sorry for being more bitchy to you than I am to the average person. It's just that- It's just that you... ok, let me explain. So you know how Zoe and I put your twunk ass back together with different limbs and shit? The frat boys' limbs?" Kyle nods, even though he doesn’t know what a twunk is. "So- to me, you're this lumbering giant whose arms and legs are this constant reminder of... the shit that happened.” Kyle tilts his head at this. Not only because the last word he would use to describe himself is giant, Kyle felt small most of the time. But also because he doesn't really remember much of what happened before he was dead, and assumes she is referring to the other Kyle. The Kyle without scars that Zoe has a few pictures of. "Shit, you don't know what happened." Kyle shakes his head and goes to say something, but Madison speaks before he can. "All you need to know is that some people were doing bad things. To me. And they were your... friends. Or whatever."

Kyle could tell Madison was trying to stay casual, but he has a sinking feeling that what happened to her wasn't nothing. "B- bad thing- gs?" He asks.

Madison was stiffer and speaking softer than before. Kyle had only seen her act small once before, and it was when he was hurting her. His stomach filled with guilt, usually, he tries not to think about what he did too often. He didn't like that feeling. "Yeah, Kyle. Bad things." Madison says while looking out the window.

Something in Kyle recognizes her tone and posture. He can’t quite put a finger on what, though. "Hur- hurt you?" He asks. Kyle watches Madison shrink in her chair and decides to go back to picking at his sweater, and attempt not to pressure her to respond quickly. As he does, the familiarity of the situation continues to tug at him. She looks a bit like how he felt after what happened at the other Kyle’s house. Or how he felt when he thought about the lady there. Zoe says that lady is (or... was) his mother, but he doesn't believe her. He sees mothers on the TV every day, and that lady is not at all what a mother is. If anything, Ms. Cordelia was his mother. she was all grown up, and Kyle was only 19. Ms. Cordelia never yelled at him, always helped him when he got in big trouble, and gave him those gross leaves when his stomach hurt. Kyle thinks about who Madison's mother might be. He hopes that Madison can talk to her about the bad things that happened.

Looking back up at the unusually vulnerable girl across from him, who is hugging her knees and staring out the window, he feels about her the way he feels about who he used to be. He wants to hug her and protect her and tell her that it’s not her fault those people made her so sick, and that he is so sorry he hurt her, and that he knows she feels soft and stained- but that one day she will be allowed to be happy and messy and big at the same time.

"Yes." Her words snap him out of his own head and back into the situation at hand. Madison's neutral expression does not waver.

Kyle points at himself and decides to ask just one more question, the one ringing in the back of his mind. "My Frien- ds?"

Madison is quiet for a moment before responding. "They were your friends. But you- I really don’t think you knew they were bad, Kyle. The thing is that... when I see your tattoos... I start to think about what happened, and when you make sudden moves I jump a little. So it was, sometimes still is, hard for me to be around you. You're just- big. If that makes sense. Like they were. I'm sorry for giving you those parts of them... for making you carry their shit with you. At least some parts of their sorry asses were finally put to good use when they became a part of your whole labrador retriever thing you've got going on.” Kyle is clearly upset by the fact that he cared about such bad people, and that he couldn’t tell they were mean sooner. “Oh, stop giving me that guilty look like you had something to do with what happened to me. You tried to help me, shithead. Now calm down." Madison says.

"I help-p ed you?" A soft smile starts spreading across Kyle's face.

Madison raises her eyebrows at his reaction. "Calm down Kyle, stopping those guys was a bare minimum thing to do." Madison starts, (Kyle frowns), "But thank you. For 'protecting' me or whatever. Congratulations! I guess you were always meant to be our guard dog."

Despite her insults, Kyle once again feels a surge of affection rise inside of him towards her. This time, he stumbles over to Madison, leans down, and engulfs her in a hug. He was never good with boundaries. He couldn't use his words to express himself, so he leaned on using physical affection (or fighting people but that wasn't currently applicable) to show people how he felt. His eyes instantly widened and he quickly pulled away.

"Sor-ry!" He stepped away from her, hanging his head and mumbling like an embarrassed child. “S-udden Move-ment." Kyle brought his hands up to his face and rubbed his eyes before looking back at her to see if she looked upset.

Something inside of Madison grew sappy and soft. This idiot toddler-man had somehow comprehended the convoluted shit she was saying, and is trying to change his behavior according to it. She stands up and speaks, "It's fine Kyle. Really. Just, warn me next time. Or walk slower if talking is too hard."

Kyle decides to take the latter approach. "O-Ok." He said, then began to approach her very slowly. Like- very, very, very slowly.

Madison wishes there was someone else in the room she could look at to confirm that Kyle was, in fact, being insane. "Ok, I don't have all day. I'm going to need something faster than a snail's pace." She says.

Kyle stops and wrinkles his nose in disgust. “Snails. yuck!"

Madison’s expression turns into one of pure (amused) shock. "So the two words you do fully have down are 'snails. yuck.'? How- how does that even happen? Don't answer that, I don’t care. Hurry it up. Hug me now or never, Day of the Dead."

Kyle walked up to Madison and bear hugs her, she is significantly shorter than him, so she almost disappears into his sweater. Madison doesn’t hug him back at first, she instead lets her arms fall to her sides.

"F-riends now." He pats her on the head gently and intentionally. "Sa-safe now." He says in the softest voice he can muster (generally Kyle finds that he is stuck speaking at one volume, and that volume is loud).

Madison freezes at his last two words, then returns his hug for a moment. She thinks this might be the first time she’s ever hugged a boy who didn’t want to kiss her. It was nice. After a few moments, she clears her throat and steps back from him. "Thank you, Kyle." She says genuinely.

"Mhm!" He says, then just smiles at her, happy to have made a new friend. It was one more person on his list of people to protect and be protected by, and in his mind, there was nothing better than that. "L-et's te-ll Zoe w-e're frien-ds now." Kyle says, gesturing at Madison to follow him.

"What the fuck did I just get myself into," Madison mumbles, before following Kyle to the living room.

#;asjdf;asfjadfs #so is this any good??#ahs #ahs coven #ahs fic #ahs gen fic #zoe benson #madison montgomery #kyle spencer #evan peters #himbo.writes #himbo.speaks #this tis my first fic here #fave #tw s*xual assault #tw swearing #fic recs

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acotartogfan · 4 years

Note

19. “Why’s there a pregnancy test in the trash?” for elriel?? I hope your staying safe in these hard times :)

Thank you anon! I hope you’re staying safe too.

I have to admit, I had a bit of fun with this one.

Goodbye, My Love

Prompt: “Why is there a pregnancy test in the trash?”

[Revised 12/30/2020]

“This...weed─” Elain tugged on the stubborn little pest furiously, “won’t come─” She gave it a final tug. “Out!” All of a sudden, the weed decided to detach itself from the ground, sending her sprawling backwards with the force of tug. Elain sighed and wiped the sweat from her brow while the sun’s rays overhead beat down on her relentlessly. Gardening wasn’t easy, but at least it gave her peace of mind. Especially with the news she received only two days earlier. She sighed again. The question that had been bothering her all morning now tugged at her conscious. How would Azriel react?

Only a few minutes later, Azriel stomped out of the house comically that Elain almost giggled a little. The front door flew wide open with the force of which he yanked it open. Elain grimaced.

This was not going to be pretty.

Elain looked up to the sky and quickly sent a silent message to her neighbors as an apology for the unpleasant noise that was about to come forth., and rose up to meet him. She huffed a sigh just as Azriel’s words came tumbling out. “Why is there a pregnancy test in the trash?”

Elain merrily ignored him. Without even looking, she could feel the fury emanating off of him in waves.

His response was instantaneous.

“Elain.”

She turned around as dread knotted her stomach tight. Azriel was livid. In his hand, he gripped the pregnancy test stick, holding it up for her to see.

“Azriel, it’s not as clean as you think─”

“Do I look dumb to you?” He sneered.

A pang of hurt lodged itself in her chest, squeezing. Azriel had never talked to her this way, nor had she ever seen him so angry. She wouldn’t let it show, though.

Elain would play this game with him, and she would play it well. Keeping a poker face, she turned away from him and carelessly blew a few strands of hair away from her face, all the while calmly pulling off her dirt-caked gardening gloves. She stood up and faced him, hands on her hips.

“What do you want.” It was more of a statement than a question.

“I want to know─” Azriel waved the pregnancy test around wildly “─why the hell you didn’t tell me you were pregnant.”

Sure enough, the pregnancy test revealed two vertical lines─she tested positive.

Elain flatly glared up at him. “I was going to tell you.”

Azriel’s face contorted into a mask of rage. “When?” Good. She wanted to piss him off. This would be fun.

Serves him right for being such a dick about it.

She rolled her eyes. “When the time felt right.”

Sweat was beginning to form on her nose. The heat was getting to her.

Azriel scoffed and rolled his eyes in tandem. “Really.”

“Really.” She coated her words in sugar and served them to him on a poisoned silver platter. While her voice was honey-sweet, her expression said of something entirely different.

“Stop. Mocking me.” Each word was heavily punctuated.

“Me?” She gasped, a hand flying to her chest while she looked around in disbelief. Her voice jumped an octave. “I would never!”

Poison dripped off her words like honey.

“Elain.” He gritted out.

“Azriel.” There was the sticky sweetness again. She batted her lashes at him.

His anger was seemingly fading into exasperation. “Why didn’t you tell me? News like this is big.”

“It isn’t that big of a deal,” she shrugged nonchalantly.

“Not that big of a deal!? We’re having a baby, Elain!”

“Say that a little bit louder?” she asked, looking around the neighborhood for emphasis. She cocked a sarcastic eyebrow at him. That would make him mad. Just what she wanted.

Anger rolled off Azriel in silent, furious waves.

Elain absentmindedly picked at the dirt under her nails. After a beat, she said, “You think I don’t know that? Like I said, I was waiting for the perfect time to tell you.”

“There is no such thing as perfect timing.” Azriel’s voice had a sharp edge to it.

“Well, it’s not like I was going to tell you now,” she scoffed.

He laughed a thin, hollow, laugh. Elain hated it. “Then when? Six months from now, perhaps?”

It was her turn to laugh. The mocking laugh she let out sounded weird to her ears. Shock flashed across Azriel’s features.

“No. Tomorrow.”

Azriel blinked, startled.

The winged male went silent, but his fists were clenched tightly at his sides, trembling with wrath. If he was surprised, it didn’t register on his face.

“Let’s continue this inside,” While she still had the power, it would be good to use it now. People were starting to stare.

She managed a tight smile at a lone passerby staring at them.

A single drop of sweat dripped down her temple. The sweltering heat engulfed them.

She raised her eyebrows at him. His barely contained temper made the vein in his forehead pulse wildly. “Azriel. Inside.”

Azriel narrowed her eyes at her, and strode purposefully for the house, his fury evident in every step he took. The plants wilted in his wake. Or, at least, that’s what it felt like.

Elide sighed for the third time that day and looked mournfully at her plants. “He’s being dramatic, isn’t he?” she whispered to her camellias. She huffed and wandered back to the house. A gentle breeze blew behind her.

Elain found Azriel sitting at the dining table, hands folded methodically, and stiffer than a board. He looked up from his tightly folded hands. The whites of his knuckles glared unkindly at her. “You were going to tell me tomorrow?”

“Well…” She let the silence consume the word.

“Well?” He bit out.

Elain suddenly found the bare tabletop to be of utmost interest.

Azriel shot out of his seat, slamming his hands face-down on the tabletop. Elain flinched violently. “Well?!” He roared. The glass cupboards rattled behind them.

She shot out of her seat too. Backing down wasn’t an option. He made his move, now she would make hers.

“I lied.”

Azriel scoffed unimpressed, and folded his powerful arms, his wings slightly flaring to help keep himself balanced.

“Is that what you wanted to hear?”

Azriel said nothing, just waited like a prey waiting to strike.

“People. Lie.” She coated the words with venom and hurled them at his feet.

He raised an eyebrow. “I know they do,”

“Then?”

He waited a second before answering. “I thought we promised not to lie to each other.”

Elain’s heart skipped a beat.

The unspoken words hung in the air. Especially with what happened last time. Lucien─they were both drunk, and it was a grave mistake on her part. She thought she had hid it well from him, until he found a tie that wasn’t his in their laundry. Lucien’s.

“This isn’t like what happened last time! You use that against every time─” she jabbed her finger onto the tabletop, twice to emphasize her point “─we fight. It isn’t fair!” Elain’s voice was reaching a feverish pitch. “Stop using that against me! It was a mistake!”

Azriel smiled a cruel smile. Anger bubbled in her. “You know what you said when you cheated?” He spat out the last word with revulsion. Disgust flared in his eyes. “You said it was no big deal.”

As her resolve began to crumble, tears began to well in her eyes, threatening to spill over. “Do not.” Elain pointed accusingly at him. “I made a mistake, and I apologized. Profusely. And you are the worst kind of person to use that to discredit me in every argument we have. Was my apology not enough? When I cried and begged at your feet, was that also not enough? Or did it just give your ego a boost?” Now she was the one trembling with fury. Suddenly, their dirty, poorly-lit kitchen seemed too small for the volume of their voices.

Azriel looked her dead in the face, and scoffed. A stray tear streaked down her face of its own volition. Elain furiously wiped it away. Something of triumph glittered in Azriel’s eyes. “Once a cheater, always a cheater,” he sneered.

Her heart twisted with fury and hurt. She hated this. Hated him. Hated how he could make her feel like she could conquer the world, then take that power away with a mere snap of his fingers, powerless and reeling. “Stop it!!” She screamed hysterically. Picking up a clean plate beside her, Elain weighed it for a fraction of a second before hurling it at the Illyrian’s head. As expected, he ducked it smoothly as the plate shattered loudly against the wall behind him. She hated him even more for missing it. “You truly are the scum of the earth!” She sobbed. Tears flowed freely from her eyes. “I can’t do this anymore,” she whispered brokenly. “Get out of my house.”

“So you can run back to Lucien? I don’t think so.”

“I told you already. I have no feelings for him.” Elain gritted out.

“Oh do you? A few months ago, Lucien confessed to me that he loved you.” Azriel toyed with his Siphoned rings. “Did he tell you that? That he loved you?”

Elain stood, trembling with fury.

“Get out of my house.”

“No, actually, I think I’d prefer to stay.” Azriel smirked.

Elain clenched her fists to keep herself from hitting him.

“Did you love him?” He deadpanned.

“I did. I still do.”

“Then why are you here with me?”

“I don’t know,” Elain admitted honestly.

They were at an impasse.

“So tell me. When you were with me, did you ever cheat?” Elain folded her arms.

Azriel arched an eyebrow and smiled an ugly, hideous smile. “Of course not. I’m not a whore.” It would have been better, if he had yelled. Anything would have been better than this.

New tears streamed down Elain’s face. “You don’t mean that.”

‘Oh, sweetheart. I do.”

That was it. This was Elain’s breaking point. “I. Hate. You.” She screamed, grabbing another plate and smashing it to the ground beside her. The sound of shattering porcelain only provided fuel for her anger. She sniffled pitifully.

“Hate is a strong word,” Arrogance glittered in Azriel’s eyes.

An unwilling tear ran down her face. She smacked it away.

“Okay. Fine-” Azriel cocked an eyebrow, daring her to say more.

Elain cut him off. “If you hate me, I’m getting rid of it.” She was being childish, but she didn’t care. She wanted him to hurt, wanted to see him hurt. He could suffer for all he was worth.

Azriel recoiled instantaneously, as if physically burned. All expressions of malice drained from his face. “Elain─wait. You wouldn’t do that─”

It was Elain’s turn to smile.

“Elain, please. That was a mistake─”

She tapped her chin and pretended to think. Her foot tapped against the ground. “Funny. That phrase sounds familiar, doesn’t it?”

Azriel’s calm composure shattered.“Elain─this isn’t funny.” She smirked.

“Let’s see. Where have we heard this before?” She folded her arms, smiling visciously.

He looked up at her, searching her eyes. “Elain, please. Please, don’t-” In a split-second decision, he crossed the room and dropped to his knees in front of her.

Now that, was unexpected.

She pretended not to hear him, continuing on with her charade.

She began to pace. “Oh!” Elain stopped to look at him patronizingly. “ Let’s take a trip down memory lane, shall we? You know what else wasn’t funny? When you mocked me when I was crying at your feet, begging for forgiveness.” Through the haze of her anger, she glanced at Azriel. Hurt was written all over his face. . Good. She wanted him to hurt. She wanted him to bleed. Bleed, just like she had.

“Hmm. You know what else also wasn’t funny? When you mocked Lucien and I.” Suddenly emboldened, Elain acted out the way Azriel had crudely mocked their coupling months earlier.

Azriel blanched. Still, he obediently stayed kneeling in front of her.

A tear slipped down his cheek, and he wiped it away haphazardly. “Elain, I didn’t mean it─”

“Oh, how the tables have turned.” She laughed cruelly, as if enjoying a private joke. “You, you’re-” She paused to laugh again.

Across the table, Azriel visibly wilted.

She pointed at him, then at herself. “You, begging me?” She gasped in mock astonishment, clutching at her throat. “I have to admit, the sight of you begging on your knees for forgiveness, crying, is quite entertaining. I could get used to this,” she laughed.

“Please, Elain─”

She smirked unkindly. “Please, what?”

“Stop.” Azriel’s face crumpled. . She almost wanted to tell him sorry, that everything would be okay. Almost.

Elain clicked her tongue patronizingly. “Manners,” she chastised.

“Please, stop.”

She cupped her ear and leaned forward, a silent gesture for Azriel to repeat himself.

“Please, Elain. Stop.” He bowed his head. A final act of submission.

What a sight to see.

One of, if not the greatest Illyrian warriors kneeling in front of her, begging. She reveled in the glory, tasting the sweet nectar that was revenge.

“And abandon the opportunity of a lifetime? Please.” Elain scoffed.

Azriel looked back up at her. His expression was tortured. Her masochistic streak grinned in delight.

Silence reigned while Elain basked in the glory in her newfound power.

After a minute or two, Azriel boldly broke the silence . “We haven’t come to a decision yet.”

“Hmmm?” Elain hummed seemingly distracted, pretending not to pay attention.

“...the baby.”

“Oh, I already decided for the both of us.” She shot him a sickly sweet smile. His head shot up. “I’m getting rid of it.” Azriel’s shoulders visibly slumped, his eyes coming to rest on the legs of the chair opposite him. She placed her finger under his chin, tippinging up his face to look at her. Opening her eyes comically wide, she whispered “Poof,” the way she would with a toddler, snapping her fingers for effect.

“Say it again,” Azriel gritted out. Restrained anger flashed in his eyes.

“Excuse me?”

“Do you. Want it.”

Elain raised her eyebrows in silent questioning.

“The baby.” he gritted out with clenched teeth, still kneeling. He looked up at her with fury blazing in his eyes.

“Not if it’s with you.” She waved him with a dismissive hand and watched as Azriel visibly flinched. Deep rooted, pain flashed across his features. She smiled in satisfaction as she watched her words hit their mark.

“Not with me?” He choked out. He scrambled to get up, but she put a hand on his shoulder and pushed him down with such force he almost toppled.

To answer his question, Elain gestured to the house around them, and the shards of porcelain on the floor. “Look at this, us, we are toxic. Let alone we can’t raise a baby in this kind of environment.” Arms folded, Elain patiently waited for his response.

“Elain, I-I can change. We can figure something out, I-I’m sure of it.” Azriel hastily slipped out of his kneeling position and back into his chair, perhaps to facilitate some sort of civility, or to send her a message that they were equals. They were, in fact, not. They both knew that. “Az, I loved you,” Azriel looked like he had been slapped in the face, “I was willing to go to the ends of the world for you. But somewhere, something irreparable changed, and everything fell to pieces. What we had, however special it was, is gone now and there’s no way to fix it. As seen in exhibit A.” She gestured wildly to the shattered glass on the floor and laughed a broken, hollow laugh.

“Please, this baby deserves good, loving, parents and a safe home and we could provide both─”

She cut him off. “No. You’re wrong. We can provide neither. So I think we’re done here.”

“Goodbye, Azriel.” Her last words to him.

The winged Illyrian sat in stunned silence, unmoving.

She took this as an opportunity to leave.

Heels clacking, she watched in her peripheral vision as Azriel scrambled out of his chair, nearly falling out in his race to reach her. Hand outstretched, he called to her in a last-ditch effort.“Elain-”

Upon hearing that, she ignored him. He was nothing to her. With that, Elain strode out of the house, head held high. She never once looked back.

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

Taglist: @everybodyplaysalong @nessian4life @sjm-things @bookstantrash

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jellycatfriends · 3 years

Note

Are you able to describe the different fur textures for each of your Jellycats and any Jellycats that you don't own? You can group them by type if you want.

anon, you have come to the perfect texture sensitive jellycat collector for this question.

i’ll start with the bashfuls as they’re arguably the most common and well known jellycats. they all have the same fur and fur texture - incredibly soft, however it is prone to clumping together with time and becoming less soft. while this can be helped with regular brushing, they don’t stay as soft as the day you meet them for too long. that being said, even when they loose that initial softness they are still very soft.

the jellycat website has a section called super softies and it is very very aptly named. i have two from that section (bailey sloth and huggady hippo) and they’re softer than the bashfuls. their fur is softer and longer than the bashfuls’ and has another texture difference i’m struggling to put exactly into words. i’m unsure about how they go with clumping over time as i’m scared of ruining them and have not hugged them as much as some of my other jellycats (for which i feel awful), however they’re doing very well and both of them are still very very soft. i use their textures to stim and ground myself because of how soft they are.

for christmas i got a fuzzle reindeer and she is a very different texture to all my other jellycats. she is soft but her fur feels almost ‘stiffer’ than other jellycats’. this is not to say her fur is stiff - it moves freely and nicely - however it has a rigidity that other jellycats’ fur doesn’t. while clarice is still soft i wouldn’t recommend a fuzzle if you’re looking for super soft. if you’re looking for soft with an interesting texture, a fuzzle could be worth looking into!

my two bears have vastly different textures. ernest (cinnamon bear) has an interesting texture as his fur is intentionally messy. soft, but not on the same level as the bashfuls. bruno’s (bumblr bear) fur is softer and closer to bashful texture, however it has a bit of swirliness to it that gives it a difference. both ernest and bruno are pretty much impossible to brush due to their respective messy and swirly fur, however so far i haven’t noticed their lack of brushing having a negative impact on their softness.

slinky (starry-eyed kitten) is similar to the bashfuls, just a little less soft and with shorter fur. he’s good for warmer days. his eyes are his biggest texture difference as the glitter around his eyes can be felt. it’s enturely avoidable as his fur covers the worst of it while cuddling, however if you’re sensitive to rougher textures perhaps starry-eyeds aren’t for you.

odie (baby odell octopus) has experienced the biggest decrease in softness since i got them as they spend a lot of time in my hands and have thus been exposed to more oils from my skin. despite this, they’re still wonderfully soft and soothing to me. when i first got them, they felt very similar to my bashfuls just with shorter fur.

while frankie (pitterpat elephant) ranks probably the lowest of my jellycats in softness, their texture makes up for it by being satisfying in other ways. it’s shortness makes frankie great for bringing out during the hot summers and when brushed, frankie looks brand new.

edith (pedlar bunny) doesn’t exactly have fur, she’s made of a soft material that i’m struggling to give words to. of course, without fur it’s not really fair to compare her to bashfuls as bashfuls get their softness from their fur, however i promise that her texture is incredble. she’s soft and so are her clothes. her satchel isn’t as soft as her clothes, but i wouldn’t call it stiff either. it’s just more sturdily made as it’s prone to moving around a bit more (it is secured in place by a stitch on her shoulder, but it still moves). the underside of edith’s material is very satisfying when rubbed together and i frequently rub her ears (as they are unstuffed) together for stimming/grounding.

that’s all of my jellycats!! honourable mentions from my jellycat adventures include:

-amuseable cloud - i’m still undecided on their texture. they look adorable but to the touch the fur feels different than i’m used to.

-puffles giraffe - extremely soft, very huggable, intend to add one to my collection

-barnaby pup and billie giraffe - same texture as bailey and i also would love to add them to my collection

-toothys - also undecided. could also take some getting used to. luckily while they’ve grown on me and i’m amused by them i’m not sure i’d ever get one

-christopher caterpillar - his underside is excellent. his green fur is usual jellycat softness.

i just wanted to note that jellycat is hands down the softest brand of soft toys i have ever encountered and i’ve been a soft toy person since i was a little kid. even frankie is very very soft by most soft toy standards and beats a lot of my other non-jellycat soft toys. while in the right conditions i’m quite sensitive to touch and can personally tell as difference between jellycat textures, others with lower sensitivity to textures may not.

i also just read over this to proofread and realised how many times i wrote the word ‘soft’. i hope this indicates how soft jellycats are. they’re extremely soft.

i hope this is at least a little helpful anyways! if you have any more questions send them my way :)

#Anonymous

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pandawritesmanythings · 4 years

Text

(Loki x Reader Medieval AU)

Chapter Summary: After meeting with Frigga, you decide it's time to take matters into your own hands. Turns out a certain someone had the same idea.

Warnings: None, I think!

Word Count: 2,845k

A/N: This was actually two chapters, but I thought that a longer update was better than two shorter ones... Let me know what you thought!

Masterlist

Thor approached you after dinner. He was wearing his armor and had asked you for the first dance. You weren't sure if that was allowed, but if he was asking - and he was a prince - you had no reason to refuse.

He guided you towards the dancing couples, and despite his armor and his hulking size, he was still a very skilled dancer.

"I must apologize, m'lady."

"What for?" You asked, confused.

"For blowing up like that earlier." He referred to this morning when you had delivered the news.

"Ah. You must not worry about that. I was quite upset when I received the news."

You glided across the ballroom for a few beats before he spoke again. Not that you were drawing a comparison, but it was honestly a lot easier to dance with Loki. You couldn't imagine what dancing the more lively dances must be with Thor. Loki seemed much lighter on his feet, graceful like a cunning cat, and he seemed to guide you while at the same time give you leeway. With Thor, it felt a little more practiced, a bit stiffer.

"Has my brother spoken to you yet?"

Alright. Why this all of a sudden?

"I can't say he has."

"He mentioned he had something to speak of, with you."

So he did want to talk with you. Well, you were waiting. "He must have been busy. We do have a wedding to plan. If he wishes to do so, I must believe that he will talk to me soon."

"Ah. Yes. Your wedding. Please don't be too harsh on him. He's been through a lot in the past year."

"Has he now?"

"I mean. It's not my place to tell. But he wasn't really thrilled about the arrangement."

You shrugged, "That's understandable."

"But... This is different. My brother has changed a lot during the past year. And his brooding has only increased for the past few months."

Honestly, hearing Thor saying that his brother was brooding was probably the best thing you had ever heard. You almost wanted to laugh. But you didn't. "Well, I hope that whenever he comes to talk to me, I can help him with his- What did you call it? Brooding?" You smirked at the tall blonde man.

He boomed a laugh, attracting a couple of stares in the process. "I did say that, didn't I? Oh please forgive me. I hope you can, though." He said earnestly.

"I hope so too."

The simple dancing ended shortly afterward, and as you bowed, you felt a light tap on your shoulder. Finding Loki standing behind you may have surprised you, but you did your best to hide it.

"Your majesty," You curtsied.

"May I have this next dance?" He asked politely.

You turned to Thor as if to ask him to excuse you. He just beamed at you and signaled you to follow the dark prince. With a final goodbye, he took his leave. Silently, you took your position and placed a hand over his shoulder, holding his free hand, as the other snaked at your waist.

The music soft music began, and you proceeded to glide once more through the ballroom.

"I must say, I hadn't expected you to approach me tonight."

"I had thought that the oaf I have for a brother might have told you about my intentions."

You quickly gazed away before answering, "He may have, that does not mean that I expected you to approach me to dance."

"Ah, but I thought this was our ultimate place to communicate."

You teasingly pretended to think deeply. "No, I thought that would be our walks among nature."

You wanted to make him laugh. For some reason, it felt good when you did. But since he didn't you sighed and looked deep into his eyes.

"Look, I spoke with your mother-"

"How insightful of you." He looked... Unimpressed.

"I do not care for your approval." You said, "However, I have come to be quite fond of the queen. So I have decided to apologize."

Oh yeah. That took him by surprise. To the untrained eye, it may have not been apparent. But you had spent years under Doctor's Strange tutelage learning the art of micro expressions, and at that moment you saw the surprise in Loki Odinson's face.

"Why you?"

Why are you apologizing? Is what you thought he was trying to say.

You tilted your head. This conversation wasn't one you had gone through your head countless times. You didn't have any comment prepared, no word planned, no speech stored in your mind. You just wanted this to work. You wanted his trust. That was all. And for that, you needed to be yourself.

"Because, despite what you might believe of me, prince Loki Odinson. I still care about everything that is happening around me. And that includes you." Loki and you continued to dance for a little more.

"Won't you say something? Please-." "Not here." He interrupted you and his gaze floated momentarily to your right.

You dared to take a disguised glance and you found a couple of onlookers suddenly looking as if they totally weren't just trying to listen in to your conversation.

Oh, the game is on. "Perfect couple." You replied with confidence in your voice.

At least he wanted to try and fix things.

You had agreed to meet up with Loki after breakfast. The library was the place, and you made sure to sneak a treat from the bakery on your way there.

"Is your dog following you?" Was the first thing he said to you, not even looking up from his book.

"Please, do refrain from calling my captain of the guard a dog." You answered unamused.

"So he is here." That was a statement.

"Well, it would be against my father's and my country's interests if he wasn't."

You sat by his side and he snapped the book on his hands closed, preventing you from even taking a peek.

"Something scandalous on the pages you read?"

"Why would you ask such a thing?"

"No one closes something faster than the person who knows they are doing something that is out of their limits."

"And you speak from experience, princess?" He leaned in closer.

You place a hand between his face and yours, making him move away from your personal space. "Don't all things we say come from experience?"

You bit into the small chocolatey treat. Absolutely delightful. Cocoa might be best cultivated in Midgard, but Asgardians were masters of the craft.

Loki hummed in response to your words and sank into his seat.

"So you wanted to talk?" You asked after downing your treat.

"Hmm."

You waited for him to begin and after a beat of silence, you shrugged in confusion. "Well...?"

"They call me silver-tongued, but also a snake. Were you sufficiently gullible to believe those descriptions?"

"Silver tongue? That you are. A snake? Hard to say. But when one knows nothing of their future husband, it is hard not to listen to what the wolves spit out."

He wasn't looking at you, but you saw the ghost of a grin in his face.

"My mother has spoken to you, hasn't she?" You nodded. "She was sensible to do so."

"You believe that she turned me to your cause." You raised an eyebrow.

"I believe that she has laid out a path for a mutual understanding."

You nodded solemnly. "I think you understand that my doubts on you are not unfounded?"

"Of course," he agreed. "You would be unwise not to heed them." There was some sort of spark in his eyes that made you shiver. He was incorrigible.

"In that case, I only wish you to know that everything I have said is true."

He was silent, considering your words for a moment. His hand was resting on his chin, eyes examining your face. Searching.

"Why be honest with me?"

Looking into his eyes was interesting. It was sort of like when you saw Bucky's eyes for the first time after you had retrieved him from the grasp of the Jotuns. Some sort of sharpness to them, yet clouded with something that went deeper than the superficial understanding you had of him.

"As I said, I want you to trust me. I believe communication is the fastest way to trust." You honestly told him. "Although I must admit I didn't want the whole, "she's in love with another man" issue to arise." You chuckled.

He looked amused, which made you weirdly proud.

A silence settled between you. You both wanted this to work. You wanted this trust. Because spending the rest of your life with someone that at the very least you didn't trust was a miserable way to live. But you both were scared. Not really sure of what... Just... Just scared.

"I won't apologize for what I said." He finally broke the silence.

"In that case, neither will I." You agreed.

There was something akin to surprise in his eyes. What, did he expect you to beg for his forgiveness? For the poor, sad, prince's ego?

"However, our cards are all on the table." You leaned forward. "I want us to be friends, Loki. I want us to be allies. I want to trust you. But I have to know if you want this too."

He seemed to consider his options. Not like he had many. And any resemblance of peace and support he could have, he would take it. Is not like your company was unbearable. You were smart and capable to care for yourself. And although he would never admit it, he was really impressed by how you had flipped his perceptions of you in less than a day.

He had seen you and only thought he saw a sheltered and perfect little princess with no backbone. Especially after seeing you just smile and wave politely all day.

But when you held your own during the signing of the alliance... He had to admit that was impressive, and your conversation at the end of the night, he had never had such an exchange with anyone.

Would he mind your company? No. In fact. In a bad situation, you seemed like the lesser of any evils that life could have thrown at him.

You were, definitely, no Sigyn, but if the love of his life was happy and secure, he would endure anything for her. And it's not like you were making it hard for him.

If anything, you had welcomed him, despite his reputation, with open arms.

"I must say that it wouldn't be... The most unbearable of ordeals." He began. "If you are willing to work alongside me, I am also willing."

You let out a breath of relief. "Good. It would have been a real disappointment if you hadn't." Your tone was teasing, so he smiled at that.

"Oh, I would hate to keep disappointing you, princess."

You chuckled at that and stared into his green eyes. "So... what now?"

He looked pensive for a moment before answering. "Well, we say that we trust in each other because we know some compromising secrets that we trust the other won't reveal or use against us. But if you allow me I would like to make a suggestion."

"Go ahead."

"So far you've made for interesting conversation. I'll give you that. But I wonder how far your knowledge of Asgard extends." He smirked.

Oh, how funny. "I must admit that it is not all that vast."

"Hmm."

He got up and walked up to one of the shelves, a long finger helping him scan the volumes of books on it. When he found what he was looking for he retrieved a copy and handed it to you.

"What is this?" You asked looking at the leather cover of the book. Intricate markings and symbols carved into the cover. It alone was a work of art. The carving of a young woman holding flowers right in the center. There was something about her expression that made her look sad, or empty and you wondered what the book was about.

Never judge a book by its cover. Yeah, that was true, but if the outside was any indicative, this was at the very least an intriguing read.

"Prose Of The Desolates."

You raised an eyebrow at him. "Cherie."

A quick chuckle left his throat before he proceeded to explain. "Written by one of our great. Snotra. I wonder what your opinion on her writing will be."

"What, are you suggesting we begin our very own and private book club?"

He scoffed at that. "Please, book clubs are for the aficionado. Fans. This would be..." He looked for a way to turn it. "Our own little wits battle."

You were surprised. "Huh, you consider me worthy of trying to battle the silver-tongued prince Loki?"

"You have outwitted me, the only thing I have left to lose is my pride."

Okay, he was charming. You had to give him that.

"Do I hold any power over you? Because I believe it would be very embarrassing if word of this were to get out. A mere Midgardian eluding the sly dark prince of Asgard?"

"That is why, if I win, you don't get to tell anyone."

"And if I do?"

"I chose my prize, you choose yours."

You thought about it for a second. If you bet in what you were thinking and you lost... You were simply at his mercy then. It was not something that you were quite happy to do, but you had to have a fighting chance.

"If I do... We become friends."

He seemed surprised. He definitely wasn't expecting that, and a slight twitch in his expression told you that.

"Sounds fair?" You extended your hand.

He hummed. "It does." He took yours and shook it.

His hand was firm if a little cold. You could feel the callousness of it, probably from years of training and battling.

You yourself were unaware of his surprise that when he held your hand, he had expected to feel the soft hand of a princess. Instead, he felt a hand that was as rough as Sif's. If not rougher. He had held your hand while dancing, but he realized then that you had been wearing gloves. Now that he held your naked hand, he felt the struggle that you had to have been through in your hardened skin.

Not that he cared.

You retreated your hand once more and held the leather-covered book to your chest.

"So, when shall we reconvene?" You asked, playful.

He breathed in, trying to suppress his racing thoughts. "Well, I am afraid that my father will have me preoccupied for the rest of the day."

"Then, what of tomorrow after breakfast?" You asked, hopeful. As much as you hated to admit it talking to him was surprisingly not as difficult as you thought it would be.

"Sounds good. I believe you must have gone through at least three chapters. We shall discuss them then."

"Only three? You continue to disappoint me, Odinson."

He raised an eyebrow. "Oh, it's not for me, I've read through this book in less than a day. I am making this concession for you."

"You wound me thinking I could only read three mere chapters in a whole day."

"With your courtly duties, and your lapdog following you around, I would believe you have time for not much else." He teased while standing up to leave.

"You underestimate my power, sir."

An amused laugh left his lips. You had never seen him smile like that. You were ashamed to say that... you might find it enjoyable.

You had always adored making people laugh but... This? Sort of like Steve, you wanted to see him smile like that, all the time. It looked good on him.

"I shall bid you farewell." He took your hand in his, delicately, as if your hand may break in under his touch, and gave it a gentle kiss. You felt strange. You hadn't actually felt his lips on your skin before, it made you really fidgety.

"I'll see you tomorrow." You said, feeling heat creep up your cheeks.

"I'll see you then."

He left the room immediately after. Seeing him leave was a contradictory feeling. On one hand, you were happy that you had gotten a good start to read more Asgardian literature. On the other... His company and talk with you filled you with excitement. You were never quite sure of what he was going to say or do next. Something you never really felt with Steve.

You could always count on him doing the right thing, but Loki? He might not. And that excited you.

And scared you at the same time.

Anyway. You had no time. You wanted to read as much as you could, so you knocked your shoes off, curled up with a cushion between your legs and your chest, and opened the first page to begin your reading.

TAG LIST:

@chxrryycola - @midnightmystic - @deathkat657 - @thatonefangirl111

#loki #loki fanfic #loki x reader #medieval!au #medieval au #loki x sigyn #loki friggason #loki odinson #Loki Laufeyson

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toxophilitis · 4 years

Text

Daddy’s Little Girls cont.

CHAPTER NINE

It was Mark who was ordered to serve dinner to the two girls that night. He complained very bitterly about it and threatened to tell his father if they didn't treat him any better. The girls countered this threat by getting up from the table and pummeling him thoroughly before going on with their dinner. And the girls slept together that night, holding hands in the darkness and reliving the terrific sexual adventures they'd had that day.

They awoke in the morning feeling vibrantly good. They jumped into the shower together and giggled and played with each other, then dressed in brief summer clothes and went to see Olive.

"Hi," she said, kissing them both. "Great to see you both looking so good this morning, but I don't have any time for fun and games with you today. I've got a visitor coming, so you better run along and take care of your housework and things. I'll see you later on. He should be here pretty quick now."

Both the girls were disappointed, but they gracefully left Olive's house. Back at Lynette's, Lynette said, "We really should clean up the place and do some shopping. What if Daddy comes home and finds the house like this? Betty, you and Mark start cleaning up while I go to the store."

Lynette kissed her cousin. Mark's pouting expression disappeared when his sister called him over and had him kiss his cousin and make up. He had his hand under Betty's tank top, and she was unbuttoning the fly of his trunks when Lynette went out the back door with the shopping list.

She ducked through the hedge and entered Olive's back door. She tiptoed through the house and found her neighbor at her dressing table, clad in a sheer, black negligee and painting her fingernails red while she hummed a happy tune. Olive gave quite a start when Lynette spoke from the bedroom doorway.

"It's your boy friend that's coming to see you isn't it?"

"Sneak up on me like that again and I'll snatch you bald-headed!"

Lynette rushed to her side, kneeled, and took her hand. "You said you'd let me do it with your boyfriend if I was good, and I've been good as can be. I brought you Betty to have some fun with, just like you told me to. And I'll do more, I'll do anything you say, if you just let me do it with a real, grown man like your boyfriend is."

Olive grinned and said, "I think he's too much of a man for you. It could hurt you."

"You said he's talked about fucking me. And he'll know how to do it so it won't hurt too awful much. Please, Olive! Oh, please! I'll get any boy or girl in school for you if you'll just introduce me to your boyfriend!"

Olive said, "I won't introduce you. But I'll let you hide in the closet like Russ did while my boyfriend is here. If you want to come out and try to join us, that's fine. If not, just stay there and keep your mouth shut."

Lynette thought it was a super plan. She kissed Olive in her gratitude, and she was tongue-tickling her clitoris when they both heard the back door slam. Quick as a flash, Lynette was in the closet and taking off her clothes, she was absolutely certain that nothing Olive's boyfriend could say or do would change her mind about wanting to be fucked by a real, grown man.

The moment she saw him she changed her mind, because, after all, he was her father.

Howard scooped Olive up in his arms and swung her about the room while both of them laughed and kissed. They still laughed and kissed when they'd flopped down on the bed. Lynette watched in horror. When Howard sat up to unbutton his shirt, Olive said, "You're not wasting any time. You couldn't be a bit horny, could you?"

"I was born horny and I'll die horny. And it sure didn't help to be up there on the farm watching all those animals fuck all the time."

"Your wife didn't notice the animals fucking?" Howard tossed his shirt aside and said, "She was too busy bottle-feeding a couple of baby goats." He kicked off his shoes and socks and said, "She could be in the middle of a whorehouse on a Saturday night and not notice what was going on. How about you, Olive? You been horny since I been gone?"

Olive shrugged and smiled at the closet door. "You know me. I don't miss out. I broke in our paper boy, and while I was at it I gave a couple of girls a few sex education lessons."

Howard stopped and sighed in the middle of taking off his trousers. "This thing you have for girls makes me wonder about you. But as long as it's not my kid, you're welcome to it." He shucked off his pants and shorts, revealing a cock whose girth was as big as Lynette's wrist and whose length extended it halfway down his thigh. "How about Lynette? Have she and Betty been keeping out of trouble? And have you gotten your hot hands on Mark yet?"

Olive peeled back her negligee and Howard immediately closed his hands over her tits. She smiled and made a face at him, while a few feet away, Lynette chewed on her lip and rubbed at her pussy that had been all wet and itching since before she had entered the closet. Olive had been right in sending her out of the room. How could she possibly fuck her father? Even though she loved him, yearned for him more than for any other man in the world, it just wasn't right. And of course it was quite impossible -- him with a cock like a bull's and her with a cunt like a chicken's. But it was the very size of his cock that enticed her. As she breathlessly watched her father play with Olive's tits while Olive fondled him, his cock grew larger with his every pulse beat, and Lynette's eyes grew wider, too.

His cock seemed to grow increasingly longer, slowly standing up at a steeper and steeper angle. Lynette clutched at her stomach, feeling queasy dizzy, and still staring hard at the big, thick shaft of her father's cock with its big, bulbous knob gleaming red. Soon his cock was all she could see. The room narrowed down as if she was viewing it through a telescope. Her cunt seemed, on fire with itching as she slowly pushed open the door.

"Hello, Daddy. Can I play, too?"

"What the hell!" Howard flushed red with rage and embarrassment, snatched up his pants and covered his cock. He stammered out a scolding at Olive, who sat back laughing, and it was Olive's cool handling of him that prompted Lynette to come forward from out of the closet.

"I asked if I could play," she said, with her best smile, tugging at his hastily draped trousers.

"I'll take a paddle to you!" said her father. He raised his hand as if to strike her.

Lynette coolly stood her ground. She'd take a paddling if it meant getting closer to his cock. She stood her ground and pouted prettily at him. "I just want to play. After all," she said, as she ran her hands down over her slender, naked body, "What's the difference if we play with each other naked?"

"You know very well what the difference is," he sternly said. But she knew very well that she had him, though, by the way he was watching he fondle her sweet tits.

"You put on your clothes and march right home, and I'll attend to you later, lady," he ordered.

Lynette pouted some more. She pushed one of her hands down between her legs to toy for an eye-widening moment with her cunt, and then raised a wet, perfumed finger before her father's nose. She beckoned him with it, and his nostrils twitched as she said, "We could go play in Olive's living room."

Howard glared at Olive. Lynette made a grab for his pants, and he held onto them tighter. "Did you put her up to this, Olive?" he asked. "Was she one of those girls you seduced?"

"Does that really matter now?" Olive said with a smile.

Her father's continuing glare made Lynette change her tactics. She moved closer to Olive and slipped her hand around the woman's bare waist. She licked and tickled the corner of Olive's mouth, and said, "I'm hungry for your hot pussy, Olive." She looked down at her father's draped pants and said, "If I can't have something else to suck on, I'd sure like to suck on your cunt."

Howard dropped his pants and sat down on the edge of the bed. "My God! My own daughter -- a lesbian!"

Olive winked at Lynette, and they sat down on each side of him. While Lynette ran her hot, quaking hands over his muscular back and chest, Olive said, "Lynette could be a lesbian if you don't watch out. I don't know how it started, but we did get it on together. And she really likes pussy, Howard. She might always like it if she doesn't get a taste of cock."

Howard sat there shaking his head. Lynette sat close beside him, quaking with hottest anticipation and feeling the heat radiating out of his deflating cock. Though his cock had drooped down over his thigh, his cock gave off a heat and a scent that she couldn't resist. Before he could speak once again, she had his cock's hot length in her hand. She felt close to swooning with happiness.

He talked about what a miserable father he was. And Lynette felt his cock grow stiffer and hotter and longer in her hands.

His cock's hardness was quite incredible, and the velvety satin texture of his cock's knob was a sheer delight. But his cock's gigantic size was entirely frightening -- and entirely thrilling -- to her. Olive sat back and watched with a smile as Lynette cuddled ever closer to Howard.

"It's lots of fun to have fun with a girl," Lynette said, "but I'd like to try it with a man. And I don't know a man or a boy I'd like to do it with an better than I'd like to do it with you." He pushed her hands from his cock, and she put them right back again.

His cock was something she never wanted to let go of, for the rest of her life. "Come on, Daddy, just let me taste your cock once, just let me kiss your cock a. I know your cock's much too big to go into my old cunt, but I bet your cock would fit in my mouth."

"I just don't know what to do," Howard moaned.

"Just let me kiss your cock. Just let me suck your cock. Just let me see what it's like."

"And what the hell would I do if your mother ever found out?" Howard asked, falling back on the bed with his hands over his face.

His cock was sticking up like a totem pole, its mouth gaping open and drooling. Lynette nestled closer to his cock, puffing as she brushed its velvety, hot knob against the stiff points of her titties, glowing with grown-up feelings as she brought her lips down on her father's big cock.

He muttered a miserable groan, and to keep him right where he was, Lynette opened her mouth wide and sucked in the whole big knob of his cock. His cock filled up her mouth. She blinked her eyes in surprise at how big his cock was, then pushed down to make more of his cock in her mouth. It flavor was sublime. The sticky wetness oozing from his cock's end already had her stomach growling for more as she licked and delved with her tongue at the deep, slitted mouth.

"That's enough! Jesus Christ!" Howard muttered.

Olive brushed across his bare chest with her tits and her hands, and said, "Relax. It's not enough for her."

Lynette held his cock with both hands while she sucked and licked his cock's big end. She felt his ropey veins with her fingers, the soft underbelly that ran all along his cock's great length, while with the tip of her tongue she discovered a soft bit of fleshy membrane on his cock's underside that made her father squirm each time she tickled it.

A sudden feeling of enormous desire seized her, and she tightened her grip on his cock and sucked harder. Her father groaned deeply, and Lynette went all weak and gushy inside. His cock was the most beautiful cock in the world.

"Your cock is just what she needs," Olive said.

"I hope you're right," he said.

Lynette smiled. With pursed and nibbling lips, she licked his cock's underside, nipping along his cock's soft channel to reach his balls. His balls were huge. His balls were big, soft, hairy, and redolent with his very masculine scent as she burrowed her face in his crotch and sought for still more.

Those were the balls she had come from, years and years before, and now she was back to kiss and suck them in huge and growing excitement. Her pussy was soaking wet. Her nipples were hard as rocks, and rasping them against her father's hairy thigh made them itch all the more. Her heart was thumping loudly and her mouth was heavily watering when she moved from her father's balls and sucked in his juicy, wet cock once again.

"Jesus Christ!" Howard moaned. "And this is the first time Lynette ever sucked on a cock?"

"You should see what she does with a pussy!" said Olive.

Lynette smiled and kept sucking. Suddenly she felt both her father's hands on her head.

"Yes, baby, suck it! Beautiful big cock. So much better than a nasty old cunt to suck on. Yeah, baby, suck my cock!"

Lynette felt she was just getting the hang of this beautiful past time as she held her father's giant cock in both her hands and licked up and down, faster and faster, sucking ever more lovingly.

His cock was drooling quite heavily now, and Howard was shifting and moaning on the bed. Lynette's saliva was flowing more freely now, mixing with the wonderful flavor of fresh, hot hard cock. The more she sucked his cock, the better she liked it. She wouldn't stop sucking him for anything in the world now, though she did move her hand from his cock's sturdy, steely shaft to feel once again the soft, hairy warmth of his balls.

She sensed that her father was cumming. She could feel it down there in his balls. Her father's tone of voice was increasingly anxious as he said, "Lynette? Lynette, honey, you better quit now!"

Olive's voice had an avidly eager tone as she said, "Don't stop now, gal! The best part is yet to come!"

But it was her father's balls that had given her the real warning. His balls had pulsed and contracted in her hand. She continued to heavily suck his cock, stroking his cock with both hands now as he all but gnashed his teeth in his moaning. The great, huge bock in her mouth pulsed and throbbed even larger.

Her eyes bulged open when the first gusher of slippery, hot slickness spurt into her mouth. She barely had time to swallow this before another spurt came. She thought she would drown in it, that she would surely choke on the salty, strong syrup that spurted into her mouth once again. But then, with her cheeks all a bulge with the stuff, she gulped it right down and went right on sucking on cock.

"Suck that big cock! That's right, baby-doll! Suck my big cock and make it gush right up out of my balls!" Lynette's father was thrashing and moaning.

A huge surge of pleasure shot through Lynette's body at each new gush in her mouth. She could feel it in her brain and in her tits and in her toes. But most of all she could feel it in her cunt. She held her thighs tightly together, which made each of those heavenly surges last even longer. Now she sucked harder still, hoping that there be one more gusher of goodness remaining in the much more weakly contracting balls. Filled with joy, Lynette felt like weeping as the spasms in his balls and the strength of his syrupy spurting diminished.

"Come here," Howard growled, and he lifted her up off his cock.

She squealed and held onto his cock with her hands as long as she could, and then slipped off of his cock's slippery, hard length. Howard pulled her onto his chest.

"Women aren't the only ones who know how to eat pussy," Howard said. He licked his lips and stuck his tongue into her tight and overflowing cunt.

"Eek! Oh! Daddy! Yes!"

His tongue was fantastic, more rapid in its fucking than Olive's, bigger than Mark's cock.

Lynette couldn't hold still on his chest. Her father had to hold her ass firmly, and Olive had to hold her about her waist to help. Howard's flashing tongue delved everywhere at once in Lynette's tight cunt and forced every greater pleasures ripping through her.

"Oh! My goodness! Oh, Daddy! I love you!"

He sucked and kissed and licked, and Lynette's clit grew at once to the size of Olive's, while Olive actively rubbed her cunt.

"You're turning me inside out! I love it!" Lynette cried. Her hard tits were aching and tingling. She clutched her father's head as he continued to suck her and lick her and stab in her cunt with his horny, hot tongue.

The pleasures were rolling through Lynette in huge waves, crashing and surging through her in rhythmic explosions. Her father slipped his hands under her ass and lifted her higher, using his tongue like a cock, plunging it deep into her cunt.

"Daddy! Yes! Fuck me with your tongue!" Lynette squealed, twisting and turning her hot hips in his hands.

"Nnng-a-h-h-h!" she moaned. She had reached the perfection of pleasure. The waves of delight were in perfect rhythm now. She felt as if the would never stop for as long as she lived, that she'd just go on cumming and cumming forever.

"Yes-s-s-s-s!" she sighed, cumming and cumming continually, watching through a dreamy pink haze at her father sucking warmly and sweetly on the out-turned lips of her perfectly happy cunt.

"Never again with a woman," she assured him, even as his lovely kissed were dwindling and she was squirming her asshole on Olive's softly burrowing finger.

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ilguna · 4 years

Text

Tacenda - The Interview (f.o)

Summary: you’ll never truly be free from the Capitol.

Word Count; 3k

Warnings; swearing, DEATH MENTION, DEATH

NOTES: i give reader a last name to fit the world.

–

Alyssum stares at the camera crew, watching as they push back the couches and armchairs to make room for the massive camera and the lights. The entire coffee table now sits inside of the kitchen because there is no use for it. As for the lights, each one turned on makes the room a lot brighter.

It hurts her eyes somewhat. The house has never been this lit up before, as far as she remembers. Of course, the house has lights of their own, but you never really have them on. It’s always the lamps in the corners that you have turned on. The only real time the house is bright like this, is during the day when the shutters and curtains are open.

Alyssum looks up to Reed to see that he’s stoic--as usual. His arms are crossed, and his eyes follow every movement that the Capitol people make. She knows that he can see her staring from the corner of his eye, but he doesn’t look over. Or say anything about it.

“Projecting.” One of the crew members says, there’s a device in his hands that he taps on, and then most of the people with him look up to the spot above the camera.

Caesar appears on his show. Behind him is a screen that shows the family of a different tribute, they look like they’re answering a question. Alyssum can’t hear anything they’re saying, though. There’s no audio to the visual just yet, and even then, she thinks that they won’t let her or Reed listen in.

Alyssum watches as Elysia takes a seat on the couch, her legs properly crossed, “Is it just the three of you again?”

“Yes.” Reed answers, “Caesar knows that we’re interviewing as Finnick’s family too, right?”

“He does, but the questions aren’t going to be aimed at him.” The guy who put up the hologram says, “There might be a few, but it’ll mostly be directed on (Y/n) because she’s the direct family.”

“Are there friend interviews this year?” Reed asks.

“No, we’re making an exception.”

“Why?” Alyssum asks.

The guy looks up from the device, his eyes landing on her, “They’re not nearly as important. Most of the tributes only have family to account for, anyway. Take Finnick as an example.”

“Push that light back a little bit, it’s in the shot.”

They inch the light back until it’s just barely out of the camera’s view, and then they leave it alone.

“You’re good to get up now, Elysia.”

“Thank you.” She stands, and turns to Alyssum and Reed, “Where’s Mox?”

“Here.” Mox says, coming down the stairs, “Sorry, I had to trade shirts.”

She looks over him, judging his outfit, and then she nods, “It’s better than what you were wearing before, I’ll give you that.”

“Thanks.” Mox rolls his eyes.

Elysia clasps her hands together, and then moves to be in front of the three of them, “Do I need to brief you guys again?”

“Sure.” Reed shrugs.

She gives him a look, “Caesar’s going to ask for your names again, oldest to youngest. I’d suggest answering that way to every question, to keep things organized.”

“Three minutes, he just ended the interview.” device guy says.

“Sit on the couch.” Elysia says, “Alyssum in the middle.”

“Same way as the first time?” Reed asks.

“Yes.” Elysia trails behind them.

Reed takes his seat a little to the left, making Alyssum sit in the middle, and then Mox to the right. Elysia looks them over for a moment, before readjusting as she needs to. She makes them all scoot together more, allowing as little room between them as possible.

“The hologram will be showing Caesar, and behind him will have you guys on it. Don’t look at it too often, or the camera will automatically move to cover it, since it wants your best angles, and where you all look the most.” Elysia steps back, “Chins up, and smile when it first starts.

“Don’t be short with answers, because Caesar will just ask more. I want you three to remember that he’s going to try to make this experience as comfortable as possible, he’s not trying to make it bad on purpose. He’ll want to keep things flowing, and interesting. We’re not trying to lose the audience, it might even be a good way to get sponsors.”

“Was I on the first one?” Alyssum asks.

“You were just a toddler, but yes.” Reed tells her, “He’s probably going to comment on how much you’ve aged.

“How about all of us?” Mox laughs to himself, and Reed joins in.

“The first time around he called us young, I wonder what he’ll think now.”

“Ten years and he hasn’t aged a day.”

“Well--” Elysia interjects, making them laugh, “--I wouldn’t say that.”

“Thirty seconds.” device man reminds.

“Everything is going to be fine, breathe. And not all of you have to answer every question if you don’t want to. But keep it one to two answers every question.”

“We’ll try.” Reed says.

Elysia moves out of the way of the camera, standing off to the side like the rest of the crew. Alyssum readjusts on the couch cushion anxiously, especially since she just remembered that her entire class will be seeing her on this show. No, the entire country will be seeing her.

The man starts counting down from ten, and Elysia gives one last reminder to sit up straighter, which they all do.

Then, the audio of an audience cheering fills the living room. Alyssum gives a natural smile, crossing her legs to try and look more modest.

“This is them, everybody! The family of two of our most favored victors! Finnick and (Y/n) Odair!” Caesar motions to the screen behind him, “Let’s get a side-by-side comparison to the last time we saw them!”

The audience cheers louder, and Alyssum takes the chance to see how drastically she’s changed exactly. Of course, Reed was right when he said that she was a toddler, because she literally was. She was three then, and now she’s thirteen. A whole ten years.

It’s crazy for her to think that she was alive during your first games. She would never have thought about it like that. The fact that she was so young, and unable to process the fact that you were missing from the house. Alyssum didn’t know what was going on then, but she does now.

“Look at that growth!” Caesar motions to Alyssum, “She’s a whole person now! Old enough for the games!”

A chill goes down Reed’s spine, and Alyssum can feel it from where she’s sitting. Mox’s grip around her shoulders tighten considerably, as if Caesar will be able to reach through the hologram and pull her right out of her seat.

The worst part is that the live audience reacts to that positively, as if they enjoy the idea of her being drawn for the games.

“Let’s start with names, from oldest to youngest, please.” Caesar asks.

“My name is Reed.” Reed says.

“And how old are you now, Reed?” Caesar asks.

“Thirty.”

Caesar doesn’t comment.

“Mox, twenty-nine.” he says, not waiting for the question.

Caesar smiles, nodding along, and then he waits patiently for Alyssum.

She gives a timid smile, “Alyssum.”

“And how old are you, my dear?” Caesar’s voice is gentle, like he’s not trying to scare her off.

“Thirteen.”

“You’ve grown quite a lot, Alyssum. The last time I saw you, you stole the hearts of myself, and the audience.” He grins, “Isn’t that right folks? She was adorable! And not only that--she also looked very similar to her older sister, even at that age.”

Alyssum wouldn’t say that she looks like you now. She knows that she definitely had a mix between you and your guys’ mom, but that’s all she’ll admit. Now, she looks a lot like mom more than anything.

The audience cheers, agreeing with him. And with that, Caesar starts the interview, “Tell me, were you all aware that (Y/n) would be volunteering to go into the games with Finnick?”

Reed takes in a deep breath, “No, we didn’t. All we did know was that she had a plan made in her head. We believe that she had done it to be with Finnick inside of the arena.”

“You believe it was selfish? That she wouldn’t rather stay with her family?”

Alyssum shakes her head, “Not selfish.”

“How so?” There’s a smile creeping onto his face.

“(Y/n) loves Finnick with her whole heart.” Mox answers for her, “She’s loved him since she was fifteen. There might have been a five year gap between the first games and her marriage, but we all know that she always wanted Finnick. They were practically made for each other.”

“(Y/n) volunteered because she wanted to be with Finnick until her last days.” Reed says.

“And be with him, she shall.” Caesar nods, “What happened when you had to say goodbye to her?”

Reed scoffs, and Mox shakes his head. Alyssum’s eyes wander off to the side, not liking this question.

“We weren’t able to, a private goodbye allowed this year. The only goodbye we had was at the train station, and even then we didn’t get to say it properly.” Reed is clearly trying to put it nicely.

Caesar nods, “But you saw her message during the interview?”

“Of course.” Reed nods, “However, that’s not an actual goodbye, we should have been allowed to see each other in a private setting.”

“I’m sorry that didn’t come true.” Caesar, in fact, looks like he’s not sorry at all, but he moves on anyway, ”If I remember correctly, during the first tribute parade, you weren’t fond of her outfit then. What about now? Did you like what her stylists had given her?”

“She’s an adult now, so it’s a different story. This year’s outfit was a lot more coverage than when she was fifteen.” Reed answers.

Mox nods along, not really having anything to say about it. So, Alyssum jumps right in, “I liked the top especially, the skirt seemed a little too… flimsy. The fabric was thin, and it showed off wrinkles too easily.”

Caesar laughs, “Is that so?”

“I would have chosen a stiffer fabric.” Alyssum makes a face, tilting her head, “As for Finnick, I think he was just fine. Whatever net that they were both wearing clearly irritated their skin, you can see the red marks on their arms and legs if you watch their close up.”

Mox laughs, “She’s been interested in the fashion that cycles through the Capitol. If you think this opinion is big, you won’t like what she has to say for some of the trends that you go through.”

“Someone should recommend her to be a stylist, then.” Caesar laughs, “What do you think? Do you think she would be able to design better outfits than some of the stylists we have already?”

The audience cheers pretty loudly for that, but Alyssum doesn’t really care. She wouldn’t really want to go to the Capitol and design trends for them. She'd much rather do it from the comforts of her own district. She might not be in District Eight, but she can make things work.

You do give her a pretty big allowance, and she saves it most of the time. With all that she has saved up, she could buy herself a sewing machine, thread and a ton of different cloths. She’d have to learn how to use the machine, but she’s a quick thinker. It won’t be long before she’s making outfits that she can wear to school.

“We might just have to see what you can make!” Caesar laughs, “We’re always needing fresh minds.”

Alyssum gives a small smile.

“How did you feel about their training scores?” Caesar wanders on the stage a bit to open up the room behind him to show off the scores, “There wasn’t much improvement to be made, but they got up there.”

Alyssum is a little surprised to see a ten as your first score, the same as Finnick. You two were fourteen and fifteen, barely older than she is now. And you two just managed to get the best scores that there was to get the first time around.

“(Y/n) likely did one of her tricks that she’s been training for these past few months,” Reed leans back against the couch, “Her and Finnick have been working their asses off to prepare for the games. I’m sure whatever happened inside of the training room itself was a big help to her score.”

“I believe so, too.” Caesar says, “Unfortunately, we don’t get to see anything that goes inside of the training center, but I was told that she nearly outshone the other tributes when she was training.”

“Sounds like her.” Mox says, “There was hardly a day where her and Finnick were taking a break from training. It took months to build up her endurance, she could run around with Alyssum on her back and not break a sweat. She’s in great condition.”

“I’m disappointed that she hadn’t gotten a twelve.” Caesar barely gets out, before the audience is shouting in agreeance, “If anyone had deserved to make history, it might as well have been her--and Finnick for that matter!”

But instead it was the sixteen year olds. Both earning twelves when it wasn’t due. Alyssum was a little glad that you hadn’t gotten that high of a score, though. With all that you taught her, she bets that you’re happy you hadn’t gotten a twelve either. It just means more trouble when you’re inside of the arena.

“Do either of you have a clue what trick she pulled off this time? I remember the last was two knives.”

Reed shakes his head, “No idea. I couldn’t remember the first trick until she came home and showed me.”

“It’s probably around the same thing she showed the first time. And with our luck, we won’t be able to see her actually use it in the arena.” Mox says, “She mostly does the tricks for show, not for practical use. When she fights, she’s not trying to be dainty, she’s trying to be deadly.”

Alyssum can’t help her facial expression, and Caesar notices this, which puts a whole new tone on the interview.

“I almost forgot that it’s the first time Alyssum will be watching her dear older sister inside of the games.” Caesar is gentle again, “How do you feel, knowing that she’s in danger? Or that she’s doing… unladylike things?”

Reed scowls, and Alyssum’s eyes narrow, “They’re not unladylike, she’s doing what she has to do to survive, and I know that. I’m not a child, Caesar, I’m thirteen. I’m just a year older than the requirements to start getting my name pulled out of the glass bowl. You can’t preserve the innocence of the people, if you’re the one that’s taking the innocence away.

“And she’s not in danger, either. She’s got Finnick, and Johanna, and Katniss and Peeta and Beetee. She’s as safe as she can be, because she’s got a nice group of allies. The only danger in there, is the arena that you’ve engineered. Other than that, she can handle herself, and her friends.

“Enobaria and Brutus mean absolutely nothing to her.” Alyssum crosses her arms, “May the odds be ever in their favor.”

There’s a silence that fills the living room, and the audience. No one speaks for a good moment, until Reed laughs. He’s not laughing at her, he’s laughing at the fact that she just spoke the minds of plenty of people watching.

Caesar gives a weak smile, “How do you feel about her performance inside of the arena so far?”

Alyssum is on a rebellious streak, so she answers before her brothers, “I think that she could be doing better, killing more people, doing more unladylike things.”

Mox has a smile hinting at the corners of his mouth, “I will say that it’s a lot more uneventful than it was in her first games. She’s not nearly as into it as she was before, and it’s probably because she’s hyperfixating on her and Finnick’s survival.”

“She’s obviously been keeping a close eye on the others,” Reed says, “You can tell by her body language, the only person she really trusts is Johanna, and that’s because they’ve met on several occasions. Other than that, it’s clear that she’s wary of Katniss and Peeta’s movements.

“Probably because they’ve been so distrusting, which is starting to reflect on her too. She likes to give people the benefit of the doubt, but they’re testing her patience a bit.”

Caesar looks off to the side, and he almost looks relieved, “We’re almost out of time, so you know what that means.” he looks back at the camera, “Reed, if there was one thing you could say to (Y/n) and Finnick right now, what would it be?”

“I’d tell (Y/n) that she’s doing great, and to not doubt any of her choices. She went in there with a plan to keep Finnick safe, and she’s gotta keep that in mind. As for Finnick, I’d ask him to keep a closer eye on my baby sister, because she needs him, like he needs her.” Reed looks over to Mox next.

Mox shrugs somewhat, “I’m just worried about her safety around the other victors. I’d tell her and Finnick to look for double-meanings in plans, and if they’ll compromise safety and trust. Finnick is quick on his feet, so I think he’ll be able to catch on if there’s a hint of trouble. (Y/n) shouldn’t be trying to get too close to the others.”

“I’d tell them that I miss them.” Alyssum tightens her arms, “The house isn’t the same without them here. Everyone in District Four misses them, especially Annie since they’re good friends of hers. And I hope to see either of them really soon, as the winners of the games.”

Caesar gives a thoughtful nod, before a smile appears on his face, “Well, that’s all the time we have for you. (Y/n) and Finnick have been together since the very beginning, so it makes sense that they’ll be together until the end!” he laughs, Reed grits his teeth, “Ladies and gentlemen, the family of (Y/n) and Finnick Odair!”

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