Lately, I've wanted to write more, and thought getting writing prompts from y'all would be fun ^o^ So see this as a writing experiment of sorts.
Iâm still new, but excited to start this venture. Please reach out with any delicious ideas! I can't guarantee the quality will be great, but I'll do my best haha.
INTERESTS:
I like character studies, introspection, and angst angst angst! Down for rarepairs! I might prioritize non-smut asks over smut asks at this moment in time. I would LOVE to explore rarepairs. It gives me an excuse to research their characters! I am good with mostly any ship. My exceptions are listed below.
I am an old crone and this blog will most likely contain adult content and other mature themes, so mdni.
NON-NEGOTIABLIES:
No underage ships
No inc*st
No non-con
HARASSMENT:
Harassment of any kind will not be tolerated. There's enough bullshit in the real world.
NOTE:
*If there is a ship or theme I am uncomfortable with, I may not write about it. But I am willing to write about sensitive content as long as it is written respectfully and not romanticized.
-> Vi x Reader | Dentist pt. 2 | Second Meeting - from @wowzz-g (Already have a lil idea cooking for part 2! Ty :D)
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How about... Restaurant. Jayce=Server, Viktor=Line Cook, Mel=Manager (her mom is the owner but is never around)
Viktor has been at the restaurant forever and he and Mel have an on-again-off-again relationship. When Jayce comes in for an interview, he gets hired on the spot, Mel immediately intrigued. Once he starts work it's not long before both Viktor and Mel are vying for Jayce's attention. After they realize Jayce is bi they decide to work together to find out if he prefers to "serve" in the bedroom as well as the restaurant đĽ
New Server Boy (pt. 1) đ˝ď¸
part 2
Summary: Mel hires a new server at her mother's restaurant, and it isn't long until he catches the eye of both her and the line cook, Viktor. Soon enough they both find themselves in a game of grabbing his attention, betting on which way he swings.
Ship: Meljayvik
Tags: Modern AU, SFW, suggestive, some plot, Jayce is puppy-eyed and blushes like a princess. no smut đĽš
Word Count: 2.4k
A/N: Kind of slow paced. No smut, it's more suggestive than anything else bc I'm still new at spicy stuff haha. Also, Mel and Viktor have a thing for Jayce's hands đââď¸
Note to Asker: I'm so sorry this took a million years, I hope this turned out alright =u=; I split it in two because it was longer than expected.
Mel walked into the kitchen through a mess of movements and cooks, the sound of chopping knives on cutting boards, sizzling pans, and the aroma that would make anyoneâs mouth water--Piltovian or Zaunite alike.
âChef, table two wants a risotto. Hold the mushrooms.â
Viktor stood over a pan, a thin sheen of sweat on him, searing a sirloin steak delicately. His cane hooked onto the bar next to the stove, which Mel always chided him about, before he wiped the sweat from his brow. Without looking he said,
âI hate when you call me that.â She could see a frown on his lips, and she laughed that smooth, velvety laugh that never failed to give Viktor a shiver.
When it came time to close the shop, Viktor took off his apron and stretched his legs. He winced when he felt a crick in his back from the stretch, before reaching for his cane. He hitched a brow when she picked it up for him preemptively. He smiled and took it from her hand, grazing over the soft skin on her knuckles,
âThanks.â
âAre you sure standing like this for so long is ok?â She asked.
âPlease. Iâve done more strenuous work with you, compared to standing in front of a stove.â
The corner of his lip curled when she gave him a dirty look. He couldnât help but notice her cheeks get red. As they walked she spoke again,
âHey, so weâre bringing in a batch of new interviewees.â She followed him to the lockers where they kept their things, and she watched as he pulled off his shirt to change. Her eyes traced over his back brace. The knobs on his spine, and the strap that cut into his shoulder. He was thin, but the labor he did in the kitchen made his muscles toned. Viktor mulled over the last round of interviews Mel did before. It was a disaster. Half were incompetent with overblown egos, the other half could barely stutter out their answers.
âWould you like to sit in?â She asked.
âSitting down for hours to hear strangers sell themselves, for a job they probably don't even want? Sounds fun.â He said sarcastically, pulling a crisp shirt from the locker. âPlus, what good would I be there anyway? Iâm just the line cook.â
She walked over with her arms crossed, leaning her shoulder against a nearby locker to stare at him,
âYouâve been here seven years, Viktor. You know the ins and outs of nearly every part of this place.â She said chidingly. She never understood why Viktor always refused a promotion. Her and her mother had been pushing it on him since he nearly began working there.
âDo I have to? What about Ms. Medarda.â He said plainly, buttoning his new shirt on.
Mel rolled her eyes. She always hated it when he called her that.
âJust call her Ambessa, Viktor. And no, sheâs overseasâŚon business apparently. Sheâs trying to sign some contract with an investor to bring the restaurant internationally. That power hungry woman, working me to the bone.â She huffed.
âYouâre not sure sheâs just with her boy toy in Bora Bora?â He asked with a grin, the glint of a tooth poking from the corner of his mouth.
Mel shrugged,
âWho, Miguel? That man always irritated me. I always had the feeling she had a thing for you. And since she couldnât have you, she settled for some off brand doppelganger.â
Viktor winced playfully from the crude comment while she turned around and shook her head. From behind her, she could hear Viktor hum.
âShe did. Have a thing for me, that is.â Melâs eyes widened and she veered towards Viktor again.
He looked back at her and shrugged,
âShe told me. Came onto me once, too.â He smirked, knowing that the subject always seemed to rile Mel up. âAnd I didnât hate it.â
âUgh, this is too much information, Viktor.â She blushed with a scowl and massaged the space between her brow.
âWhat? You brought it up.â
âI certainly didnât need to know that my mother was trying to sleep with my boyfriend.â She walked back up to him to finish buttoning his shirt.
âIs that what we are?â He grabbed her wrist and pushed her against the locker, eliciting a small gasp from Mel. He leaned in, enough for her to feel the warmth of his body, and he whispered, âLast I heard, we werenât together anymore.â He stared at her lips, slightly parted and trembling ever so slightly. âYou were off with that man from Zaun. Who, might I add, is twice your age. Do you see the double standard?â He said, with a clipped voice. His accent was more pronounced, and Mel knew it only happened when he was jealous. Her hands lay on his bare chest, damp with sweat, and his hand landed on her neck. From this close he could smell notes of jasmine on her skin. Her lips parted with a restrained sigh,
âHis mind was intriguing. Charming, handsome.â He grimaced from the compliment she gave him. âHe knows how to run a good business, and rivalled my intellect in a way that was too hot to look over. And you know, he knew how to use his body,â She said, fingertips climbing from his stomach up to his chest. She scanned Viktorâs frame slowly,
âYou werenât too bad either.â
Viktor eyed her and pulled back, âIs that so.â He was pissed. She grabbed the collar on his shirt and pulled him close. And just as he bent down for a kiss, she pushed him away and smiled quietly.
âAnd to answer your question, yes you have to go. Because I am your boss. The interviews are set for tomorrow, so come prepared.â When she walked out the door, he straightened his shirt and clicked his tongue,
âTease.â
Interviews were just as Mel and Viktor expected. And every time he tried to stand up to leave, sheâd pull him back down on the chair.
âWe have one more, Viktor.â
âI know how this will go, so just let me leave. My back is sore and I need to lie down at home.â She shook her head and sighed heavily, before letting him go. As he walked to the door, he nearly ran into a man coming through. Tall, broad, tawny skinned with gelled dark hair. And with a shirt so tight his rippling pecs could probably tear it open if he flexed hard enough. Viktor tried to gulp in a not-so-obvious way. He looked Viktor up and down.
âHi, Iâm here for the interview. For the server positionâŚis this the right place?â
Viktor had to tear his eyes aware from his biceps, trying not to imagine them pinning him down on the interview table. He had hazel eyes, and a jawline that could cut glass. And most notable was the puppy-eyed look of innocence on his face. Before Viktor could say anything, Mel interrupted,
âWhy yes, it is. Please take a seat, MrâŚâ She thumbed through her folder, â...Jayce Talis?â
âThatâs me,â He said with an easy smile. He walked in, but back tracked to leave the door open for Viktor. Instead of walking out, though, Viktor waved him off and made his way back to his seat,
âMr. Talis, do you have your references with you?â Viktor asked, pulling a more authoritative tone. Mel hitched an eye brow. While Jayce looked through his bag, Mel stifled an obvious chuckle. She spoke off to the side,
âHm. I thought you had to go home.â
âShut up. Iâm just being courteous.â
Mel stared Jayce up and down. He noticed her eyes on him and gulped, probably assuming she was sizing him up to see if he was a good fit for the job. But it was glaringly obvious to Viktor that she was just checking him out. Before she moved on, she smiled, like a wolf who had just caught sight of her prey.
âSo Mr. Talis. It says here youâve done customer service work before.â
âY-yes. I worked for my dadâs tool shop. I manned the front.â
âGood. And as you know, this is a restaurant. Have you handled food before?â
When Jayce looked down, he almost looked guilty, and Mel ate the sight up. Then she heard Viktor,
âI could train you. Iâve worked here for a long time, I know the ins and outs of this place.â
She squinted her eyes at Viktor with the obvious 180. Now you want to help.
Once the interview was over, Jayce stood up to shake Melâs hand,
âThank you for this opportunity, I hope I did wellââ
âYouâre hired.â Both Viktor and Jayceâs eyes widened. Viktor threw a stare at Mel, who had a not-so-subtle coy smile on her lips. Jayce thanked them both profusely before walking out, and both sat back down to say in unison,
âThat man.â
Mel looked over to Viktor with a grin,
âIâve never seen you so flustered before.â
Viktor scoffed, âPlease. You should look in the mirror. And you should have seen the way he looked at me, Mel.â
She hitched a brow, âYour ego is overblown, Viktor."
The next day, Mel watched Jayce come in with a nervous brow, before she walked up to him and placed her hand on his shoulder. When he looked at her, she smiled, leaning heavy on the usual charm she had gotten used to wielding.
âYou alright with the tab?â She asked, a curve to her voice. He said quietly,
âI think Iâll be fine.â She hummed to herself in satisfaction and stood to leave, but her brows stitched together when she saw Viktor in the distance. Viktor walked up to Jayce with a slow, unbothered gait. Jayce had been hunched over, staring at the menu trying to memorize the meals, as well as the seating organization for the restaurant.
âLet me,â he said, stepping in between Mel and Jayce, to her quiet disapproval. He showed Jayce around, âthis is the layout, the table numbers are in order starting here.â He pointed to the chart in his hand, leaning over to Jayce carefully. When he saw the tips of Jayceâs ears red, he smiled. And he could smell the slight musk of pine on his skin. He briefly imagined what it would be like under him. Is that what his sheets smelled like, too? When Viktor made his way to drop off the menus, Jayce caught sight of him.
âYou can sit down to rest, Iâll do it.â Jayce said confidently, pulling the menus tucked from under Viktorâs arm. But Viktor held onto them tight, giving Jayce a slight surprise. His hand found Jayceâs toned bicep. The feeling of his cool fingertips gave Jayce a shiver, before he heard Viktorâs velvet voice, laced with a slightly playful tone. A tone that no one but Mel could only recognize.Â
âAre you saying I'm not capable to drop these off because of my cane?â Mel brought her hand to her face and shook her head. What a crass thing to say, just to toy with a new worker, she thought silently. She stepped away, back to her office in a small huff. But it seemed to work, because soon enough, Jayce began to speak in a bumbling mess,
âNo, no, thatâs not what I meant--Iâm so sorry.â His face turned beet red, and while he brought a hand to rub down his face in embarrassment, Viktorâs lips curled. Poking at the new worker shouldn't have been this fun.
âDonât worry about it. If youâre really sorry, you can make it up to me. Grab me a drink after work.â When Jayce looked up, he met Viktorâs golden eyes. Hazel orbs looked back, with a certain clarity to them. The new server parted his lips and said quietly,
âSure,â to which Viktor was slightly surprised.
Later that day, Viktor heard Mel chirp from behind him,
âHm. So howâs it going with the new guy?â
âGood. Heâs taking me out for drinks,â he said quietly, pulling his coat on for a smoke break. Mel whipped her head around to stare at him in shock.
âNo fucking way.â
He smiled before stepping out to the back porch with his cigarettes. Mel followed him out.
âHey, manager. Itâs not your break yet. You have a full staff to look over,â He chuckled deviously, while he lit his cigarette. Soon enough, it was swiped from his hand, and he glared at Mel as she took a drag.
âYou canât be serious. How did you manage to do that?â She said, chewing her lip with one arm crossed, bringing the cigarette to her lips again. She took in another long, deep drag, as her olive eyes watched Viktor move close to her. He leaned forward and took the cigarette, parting his lips, before she returned the gesture to blow the steady, thin stream of smoke into his mouth. He took it in, letting his eyes close, before speaking to her again. His words were soft, but with a bite, as the smoke left his nostrils languidly,
âWeâll see just how eager he is to do a good job here.â She scoffed before he stepped away to finish his smoke.
Mel walked back into the restaurant, eyes searching for Jayce. He was wiping down a table before he noticed her in the distance and smiled.
âMs. Medarda, I think Iâm doing good with the tablesâ-â
âJayce, stay here longer after your shift is over. I need help with some things.â
Jayceâs eyes darted around with a slightly open mouth, âButâŚI have something else to do afterâ-â
âIs there something more important than your job?â She chided gracefully, looking at him under half lidded eyes. She hitched her brow before he gulped,
âN-no. Of course, Iâll stay.â Viktor had watched from behind them, seething. Mel looked back at him with a smirk before Jayce saw him and mouthed the words, âIâm sorry.â When Jayce went back to his tables, Viktor walked alongside Mel,
âSo what is this extra work you need his help with?â he said apprehensively. She grinned, pulling out a schedule book. She responded,
âNothing.â Viktorâs eyes widened with a small sigh. She stood, looking over the work desk in her office reviewing papers, when Viktor walked up to her from behind. She felt him place a hand on her hip and kiss her neck. She stood up.
âWhatâs this?â she hummed, smiling as she leaned into it.
âIf you need a man in your bed that muchâŚâ He said softly into her skin. She turned around and wrapped her arms around his shoulders.
âHm, perhaps. But this timeâŚâ She moved close to his ear, words spoken like honey,
âYouâll be the one in the ropes.â Viktor pushed her against the desk, setting his cane alongside it to sneak a hand under her shirt. She kissed his neck, shivering from his touch. And just as he leaned in to kiss her, they heard a knock on the door. Viktorâs brows pushed together, sighing quietly in frustration.
âMs. Medarda? I just finished up with the tables. Iâm ready to help now.â
Summary: Mel hires a new server at her mother's restaurant, and he catches the eye of both her and the line cook, Viktor. Soon enough they both find themselves in a game of grabbing his attention, betting on which way he swings.
Ship: Meljayvik
Tags: SFW, suggestive, some plot, Jayce is puppy-eyed and blushes like a princess. no smut đĽš
Word Count: 2.3k
Viktor clicked his tongue as Mel tried to hold in a laugh. He swiped his cane and opened the door while Mel continued on with her paperwork. When he opened it, Jayce was surprised to see him inside. His eyes were wide,
âOh, Iâm sorry. I didnât mean to intrude.â When Viktor noticed Jayce staring at his shirt, he looked down to see that his collar had a smudge of wine-colored rouge on it. Viktor sighed and said under a breath,
âThis was my favorite shirt,â throwing a glance at Mel from behind, who only hummed to herself as she thumbed through her documents. When he looked back up to see Jayce, his eyes averted with the smallest bit of perspiration on his temple and with slightly flushed cheeks. Viktor chuckled out loud, before squeezing Jayceâs forearm.Â
âMr. Viktor?â He asked, when he noticed that Viktor didnât let go.
âIâm not your father, Jayce. Just call me Viktor.â
âYes sir.â Viktor paused to correct him again, but sat on the term. He didnât hate being called sir if it came from Jayceâs lips.Â
âViktor, leave us. I have much to do with Jayce,â She said in a dark tone. Viktor rolled his eyes. Liar.
He let his hand on Jayceâs arm linger there for a moment, before slowly dragging his fingertips off him, tracing casually over the rippling muscle on his forearm. He left the office without a rush.
When the door shut, Mel asked smoothly,
âSo, how did you feel with your first day on the job?â
âI liked it. I got to meet the other staff, they were all accommodating. And I always enjoyed talking to people, so the customer service was fun,â He smiled.
âThatâs good,â She hummed, smiling sweetly as she walked to him. When he noticed her studying him, he gulped. âYou do have a way with you, Mr. Talis. So Iâm not surprised that youâre getting along with everyone.â
âAh, just Jayce.â He laughed quietly, rubbing the back of his neck. When he said the words, she noticed that he had avoided her gaze.
âRight, Jayce.â She began to pull off her sweater, only a thin pale blouse just underneath. Jayce fumbled,
âMs. Medarda,â
âLetâs stop with the honorifics, hm Jayce? Mel is fine.â
âM-mel.â
She smiled wryly as she looked at him, standing at the door with his eyes averted, face as red as a tomato.
âOh, donât be so flustered. Iâm just warm.â She walked up to him and placed his hand on the apronâs strap,
âAlso, your shift is over, take it off. You donât need that apron anymore.â
He nodded before untying the apron and sliding it off his shoulders. When he looked up, he saw her stepping towards a towering bookshelf that lined the wall of her office.
âYouâll help me organize some of these books, Jayce. I want to make sure you have your work cut out for you.â When Jayce watched her step on the small stool, he said hastily,
âHere, let me do it for you.â
âNo need. But if youâd like, you can spot me.â As she stood and reached for a book on a higher shelf, she gasped quietly when she felt his hand on her. She knew Jayce was a big man, but one hand nearly wrapped around her entire waist. She tried not to shiver from the warmth that seeped from his palm through the sheer fabric of her blouse. Oh, what it would be like to feel those hands elsewhere. How easy would it be for him to grip onto her thighs, andâŚ
âMel?â She snapped out of her daze,
âR-right,â She said quickly, âI can step back down, the rest of the books are still on the desks to be sorted.â
As she stepped off the stool he helped her down, one hand fully planted on her hip, the other pressed into her back. She tried not to blush when he looked in her dark olive eyes, eager to help. It wasn't the books she wanted help with. No, what she really wanted was to push him down and climb on top of him; feel the hard muscle of his chest and stomach under her palms.
When she eventually dismissed him, he stepped outside to see Viktor at the front, already on his third cigarette. Nose cold from the night air, a scarf tightly wrapped around his neck and shoulders. When Viktor looked over, his eyes widened. He didnât expect Jayce to be done so quick; didnât anticipate to run into him outside. He hoped it wasnât too obvious that he might have been waiting.
âViktor, youâre still here? Iâm so sorry about that. WouldâŚit be too late to get you a drink?â
Viktorâs eyes widened before he grinned under his scarf,
âOf course not. Please, lead the way.â When he turned, he could just make out Mel through the restaurantâs glass pane, with a frown. He chuckled deviously and flipped her off, before leaving. Jayce turned to look at him from the laugh,
âWhat was that?â Jayce asked confused,
âItâs fine, donât worry about it.â
When they arrived at the nearest bar, Viktor strode in like he had already been there many times before. And he did. Despite his small frame, Viktor liked his alcohol. He held his liquor better than most people his size, but it wouldn't seem to help him that night.
He greeted the bartender with an easy smile, and by name, which surprised Jayce.
âTwo whiskeys, neat.â Jayce only watched in silence after the bartender came back with their drinks. Viktor took the glass to his lips before saying,
âYouâre staring, Jayce.â He smiled in his cup before finishing off the rest of his drink.
âUh-Iâm sorry,â He said, clearing his throat before picking up his own glass. After a couple of rounds, the bar started to feel warm. Viktor tried to fan himself with his hand, when he looked over to see Jayce removing his coat. He had changed out of his work uniform long before they got to the bar, and he had worn a plain T, tight enough to hug the curve of every muscle. Viktor nearly keeled over from the sight. Jayceâs arms were as large as one of Viktorâs thighs, and his hands were so big that it dwarfed the liquor glass in an almost comical way. He could probably lift Viktor like it was nothing. And those hands could wrap around his waist to meet in the middle with no effort. Viktor let his eyes close, imagining them pulling him in.
âSo, Viktor,â His eyes snapped open, cheeks and nose red. Jayce noticed the blush on his face, but just assumed it was from the alcohol. âHow long have you worked at the restaurant for?â
âSeven years.â
âOh wow. Thatâs a long timeâŚIâm thankful you were willing to help me out. Iâm sure you have a busy schedule,â He said quietly. When he looked over, he noticed Viktor trying to stand,
âIâll be right back," Viktor said, with a sway. Maybe the drinks were on him a little bit. When he reached for his cane he nearly tumbled over, before Jayce caught him.
âCareful,â Jayce said in a low tone, getting the cane for him. Viktor squeezed his shoulder,
âQuite a gentleman. Are you going to assist me in the bathroom as well?â He asked, chuckling as he looked at Jayce from the corner of his eye. Jayce flustered before Viktor continued, âSorry, poor taste in joke. I think itâs the liquor. Watch my drink for me, will you?â
Later that night.
Mel stirred in her bed when she heard her phone go off. She squinted at the screen. A notification from 'Viki'
Viki: hey
Mel: vik. Its 2 in the morning. what do you want
Viki: just left the bar with a certain server boy ;)
Mel shot up from her bed, tight curls falling over her face. She brushed them back, excited, but also exceedingly pissed.
Mel: wthâŚI swore that man was straight
Viki: âŚhm. idk about that.
After a few moments, another notification popped up on her phone, with an image attached. When she opened it, her eyes widened. It was a blurry photo of what she could only assume was Jayceâs hulking body hovering over the camera.
What he had failed to mention was that Jayce had assisted a VERY drunk Viktor to the back of a cab. When Viktor âaccidentallyâ tugged harshly on his sleeve, Jayce nearly fell on top of him, and even in his state of complete inebriation, he still had the wherewithal to snap a quick picture of the new server boy pushing him into the back of the cab.
Mel shut off her phone and went back to bed.
The next morning, Viktor looked like shit. Mel couldnât help but feel a sick satisfaction about it.
âYou sure you can work todayâs shift?â She asked coyly, nudging him with her shoulder.
âOf course I can,â He huffed, before popping a couple of advils in his mouth. He took a drink from a water glass.
âGood. Because weâre catering today. Graduation party of 20.â Viktor nearly choked on the water, his face becoming pale. But when she couldnât stop staring at him, he smiled.
âOh, Mel.â
She furrowed her brow. âWhat.â
âMy sweet Mel. You know, youâre not very subtle. Your jealousy is easily written all over your face.â
She scoffed before closing the locker door on him, just before his fingers could be snapped in half.
âI call bullshit. He was probably just helping your drunk ass home or something,â Mel provoked, hopeful. When Viktor didnât respond, she said,
âI fucking knew it.â
They were interrupted when they heard Jayceâs unmistakable, deep voice reverberate near the front desk. They watched as a young girl spoke to him,
âSheâs one of the new servers,â Mel whispered to Viktor, âJayce looks oblivious.â
âOf course he does. Heâs a sweet little pup. And heâll be in my bed by the end of the week.â
Mel pulled her head from around the corner to look at Viktor, and spoke with a challenging tone,
âOh, you want to bet?â
He hummed, âYou didnât see the way he was looking at me last night, Mel.â She rolled her eyes as he started to laugh. But it was muffled when she slapped a hand over his mouth. Viktor looked at her while she stared around the corner again. Then, he closed his eyes and licked her palm. She wacked him lightly on the shoulder, which only elicited another laugh from him.
âShush. If you keep playing around, our hard work on eavesdropping will go to waste. We might find what he fancies if you can just be quiet.â They watched as the young girl tried to speak with Jayce. The girl fidgeted with her hands,
âH-hi, Jayce right?â
âHey, did you need something?â How kind.
âWell, I was actually. I have a friend. He was too shy to come up to you, becauseââ
The word he made Viktor grin. He could already feel the sweet taste of victory on his tongue, before Mel threatened to wipe the smirk off his face. Jayceâs eyes widened before the server girl continued,
âBecauseâŚI guess, so it wouldnât be awkward. But um, but do you happen to be into men? Sorry if itâs a weird question.â
With how quiet it was in the kitchen, Viktor and Mel could hear a pin drop, and their ears burned to make out what his response would be. They watched Jayce blush as he rubbed the back of his neck.
âAh well, actually. I like both menâŚand women?â He responded, as if it was a question. And when the words came out of Jayceâs mouth, both Mel and Viktor's jaws dropped. They looked at each other.
âHey.â Viktor said not so inconspicuously, âI have this banginâ idea.â
âSure you doâ She said flatly. âAnd don't use the word banginâ. It doesnât roll off your tongue well.â
âShut up. How about we call a truceâŚand join forces?â
Mel stared at Viktor silently before breaking out into a smirk. âOh? Last I remember, you hated sharing.â When they both stood up, Viktor didnât move away. He only stepped closer, towering over her with his sharp, amber gaze. She she gasped quietly before she heard him say,
âIâll make an exception.â Viktor saw the heat on her cheeks, and she watched as his golden eyes studied her lips. They both look at each other, and without another word, Mel moved close and kissed him. He pulled her in, one hand steady on his cane, the other wrapped tightly around her waist. His lips grazed down to her neck, and she moaned when he pushed her to the wall. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, hand tangled in his auburn wisps, when they suddenly began to hear footsteps nearby. Jayce walked in, as Mel and Viktor parted with the warm air still swirling between their breaths. The two pushed off each other unison before Jayce could notice. His face was still red with the interaction he had with the girl, and he was so flustered he hadnât even noticed Mel and Viktor. How cute.
âJayce, come to my office. Thereâs something we need to speak with you about.â He looked up in slight surprise from their presence, but only nodded quietly. He followed Mel and Viktor in the office before shutting it closed, then said,
âAhâŚIâm sorry, did you happen to hear that out there?â He laughed nervously, âI know itâs probably not work appropriate to talk about that, um.â
Viktor whispered to Mel, âOh, weâre going to ruin him,â before he stepped over to Jayce.
âNo need to be nervous, Jayce. Itâs a natural conversation.â Jayce looked up when he felt Viktorâs lithe hand run up his toned arm. âEveryone has their needs.â His face turned a brighter shade of pink, and he soon saw Mel come close to stroke his cheek. His eyes widened as he looked at her, his gaze eventually lingering on her soft lips.
âJayce, we have a proposition for you.â She spoke the words with a soft, sultry tone that managed to run a shiver up his spine. He swallowed over a dry throat. Her hand ran down his jaw, to his neck, and down to the tight muscles of his chest. He startled when Viktorâs hand pulled him down. He brought his lips to Jayceâs ear, whispering quietly,
âYou're a good server. Perhaps you could provide those services outside of the restaurant, too?â
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Yâall, life is definitely life-ing right now, but I promise Iâm already cooking up ideas for the prompts I have! Meljayvik outline is finished, starting on the draft atm :)
an adaptation of a scene from Vice and Crucible by sherwoodfox -- one of my very fav jayvik fics ToT give it a read! I made a 10 page comic just to shill for this fic, so trust my convictions. it's good I promise
AH HOLY CRAP! I love Vi too! Would you be willing to do dentist!vi x reader..? It could even be super tiny idc! Iâve js never ever seen this prompt followed before in the fandom >U<
- Liz <3
New Dentist 𦷠đŞĽ
Summary: Like any typical appointment, you go in for a routine check up, but soon find out that the dentist who usually treats you is out sick. A new one comes in on temporary assignment to make up for the short staff.
Ship: Vi x Reader
Tags: SFW, suggestive, reader might be a little touch-starved
Word Count: 1.6k
A/N: For the purpose of the plot, Vi happens to cover her tattoos neck-up with makeup (per work policy of course). I also may or may not have researched dentist terms đ
Note to Asker: Hey Liz! tysm for the prompt, this was so fun âşď¸ havenât done one like this before. Not %100 about my pacing bc I notice I tend to write really slow-paced, but I hope it turned out ok for you!đ
You sit in the waiting room, watching an old movie from your childhood playing on repeat in the corner. Youâve been waiting 30 minutes. But thatâs typically how it is at any doctorâs office. Bored teens scroll on their phones. An even more bored receptionist at the desk.
Waiting for the dentist always takes so long, and youâre on edge. But itâs not about getting your teeth checked that has you on your toes. Because every now and then, once in a blue moon, youâll see one particular doctor. You donât see her every time you come to the clinic, but you wonder if sheâs there today.
When your name gets called, you stand up to follow the assistant, get your teeth X-rayed, and eventually wait in another room while your dentist is ready to see you. But when you hear footsteps walk through the door and turn around, itâs not the familiar face that you see every three months, with the same trite questions about your family, or the holidays. Itâs her. You donât remember seeing her at all while you were in the lounge.
You gulp. Sheâs gorgeous. Lightning red hair, baby blue eyes, and a scar running through her lip that you might have stared at a beat too long. Even through her white coat you can see the definition of her toned muscles.
âHey, nice to meet you. Iâm Vi. Our usual dentist is out sick today, so I hope you donât mind that I check in with you instead?â
Her demeanor is casual, different from most doctors youâve seen before. Youâd like to tell yourself that her cool air makes you feel more at ease, but you canât when she looks like that. You didnât expect to see her at all today, and you certainly didn't anticipate that she'd be the one doing your check up. You see the gleam of silver on her nose ring, and the dark makeup that perfectly contrasts with her powder blue irises. You have to rip your eyes away before you burn a hole through her.
âAh yeah, of course. Not a problem.â
âJust take a seat, Iâll be right with you.â
You nod and sit back on the chair. Dentist chairs are always so awkward. You never know if youâre supposed to sit up or lay back on them. You choose to lay back. Fingers laced together, patient. And nervous. After a little while, you steal a peek at her.Â
Sheâs behind you, leaning over the computerâs desk. You know, those desks that are high up, so youâre forced to stand. After a minute, she shifts before pushing her sleeves up and, oh god, she has tattoos. Dark streaks of detail in inky black that roll over rippling muscle. They creep up her forearm and disappear somewhere beneath her coat, and you wonder how far it goes. Something on Viâs computer seems to bother her, because you hear her sigh before she runs a hand through her hair. She turns to look at you and you hold your breath. You hope to god she didnât notice you were staring.
âSorry. The computers have been slow today.â
âOh, no. Itâs totally fine.â
It is totally not fine.
âYour tattoos.â You bark out. You clamp your mouth shut, but itâs too late. You didnât mean to say it outloud.Â
Vi pauses and you think you can make out a smile, but itâs hard to tell from your angle.
âYou like them?â She asks.
âYeah, they look nice.â
She laughs. âI mean, do you like tattoos?â
You want to crawl into a hole. Vi shuffles some papers and turns away from the computer, before taking a seat at the chair and rolling over to you. Sheâs close enough that you catch a whiff of cedarwood and pine.
You stutter, âI-I mean, yeah. Iâve always wanted one.â
She thumbs through her paperwork then turns your way. You steady your breath, because sheâs looking right at you. Her lips part and she says,
âWhen was the last time youâve seen us?â
âMaybe a few months,â you say with an even tone. The anticipation withers from her abrupt transition from the topic.
âLay back, Iâm going to lower you and take a look. Sound good?â
You nod quietly. The chair reclines as far as it can go, and you keep your eyes on the ceiling. Suddenly, your vision is obstructed by Viâs arm. She pulls the dental drape around your shoulders, and when she secures it around the back of your neck, her knuckles graze your ear. A shiver runs down your spine. She pulls on her mask, which you wish she didnât have to wear, before saying,
âAny pain lately?â
âNo.â
âJust tell me if youâre uncomfortable and Iâll stop, ok?â
You watch as she pulls on her latex gloves with a snap. She hovers over you, and you can still see the gleam of her blue eyes through the goggles she wears. Vi places her hand on your jaw, and just as sheâs about to say something her assistant comes in. The womanâs talking to Vi about some dentist jargon youâre too distracted to care about, because her hand is still on you. And when her thumb unconsciously caresses your chin, your eyes shut and you can feel your face warm. Is this woman trying to give you a heart attack? She turns back around,
âIâm sorry about thatâ she shakes her head, âweâre low on staff today. Doing doubletime right now.â
You notice she apologizes a lot.
âNo worriesâ you say, looking anywhere else but up at her. She leans in forward,
âOpen your mouth.â
You donât realize how wound up you are, until you notice how tight your jaw is. You try to relax, but just as you open your mouth she brings her hand forward. And you swear she takes a lingering glance at your lips. That, or sheâs just doing her job. She pushes her thumb in your mouth, and her forefinger runs along the inside of your lip. You unconsciously gulp. You swear sheâs trying to kill you.
âYour gums are healthy. You floss?â
âTwice a day,â You say in a muffled tone. The skin above Viâs nose crinkles and youâre pretty sure sheâs smiling. You curse OSHA regulations for robbing that smile from you. You hear her say,
âThatâs good. Our clients usually have a hard time flossing regularly.â Her thumb rests on the pad of your tongue, and she pushes down with a slight pressure,
âA little wider.â
You comply, letting your jaw run slack with a small breath. You try not to imagine her saying those words in a different context. She keeps probing, and when you feel her finger swipe around your tongue you nearly squeak out a noise. You let your eyes close and try to calm your nerves. But you canât help but imagine what it would be like. Grabbing her hand, licking a trail up her index finger, before closing your mouth over it andâŚ
This was not the time or the place. Fantasizing about your dentist? How freaked out would she be if she knew what was going on in your head right now?
Before you know it, sheâs cleaning your teeth. Dental tools replace her warm fingers, and her assistant shuffles close next to her, to help with the procedure. Heat of the moment gone, just like that. And you donât know if youâre relieved or disappointed. Just as theyâre done scrubbing your teeth till theyâre pearly white, Viâs assistant sticks the unit waterline in your mouth to wash it out, then replaces it with the air syringe.
âClose.â Vi says.
You look up at her and close your lips slowly around the plastic tube. Viâs movement pauses, and something in her eyes shift. You saw it. Youâre not that delusional to imagine something like that. After they finish, Vi and her assistant clean up their station and she leans in over you once again to take off the dental drape. How bad would it be if you just turned your head a little and took in her scent? You donât, of course.
âHereâs a cup, go ahead and rinse as much as you need in the sink over there. Youâre welcome to head out when youâre done.â
âThanks.â You say quietly.
You get up, legs a little wobbly. Itâs probably just because youâve been laying back for so long, and not for any other reason. After you rinse as much of the cleaning paste as you can from your mouth, you throw the cup away and turn to leave. But just as you turn, you bump into something. You lose your balance, but before you can fall, Vi grabs your waist with a strong arm to steady you. You stiffen in shock, eyes wide and face plastered with a painful shade of pink.
âAre you ok?â Her hand is warm and broad, and you know your face must be beet red. You look at her. Viâs eyes are wide.
âSorry about that,â She says with an almost awkward smile, âJust didnât want you to leave without your purse.â She pulls it up with her free hand and you take it from her quietly, avoiding her gaze.
âTh-thanks.â You stammer. Before you leave, you turn to her and take a breath before saying with as much confidence as possible, âHave a good day.â
She looks back at you, an almost imperceptible smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.
âLet me know when you get your first tattoo. Iâd love to see it next time.â
You walk out the clinic doors and let the fresh air cool off your burning cheeks. Because what was that? Were you imagining things, or did she actually seem a little flustered earlier? As you make your way to your car, you wonder.
How soon is âtoo soonâ to make another dentist appointment?
âWhatâs up, doc ? (bartender sevika x nurse reader)
chapter one - next
synopsis: Itâs 3AM, Sevikaâs bleeding, pissed off, and very much not in the mood for a hospital visit. But procedureâs procedureâeven if youâve only got one real arm left. After a dumb road accident leaves her organic arm busted up and dripping blood on the ER floor, sheâs forced to sit through the kind of bureaucratic hell only the healthcare system can provide.
Enter you: the night shift nurse whoâs had exactly two hours of peace, a bucket of black coffee, very sarcastic and zero patience for tall, muscly bartenders who think growling counts as communication. Unfortunately for both of you, youâre the only one available to treat her. She came in for stitches. She left with a crush she refuses to admit.
cw: âenemyâ to loversâ just two insufferable women. flirting, weâre going to horny jail, mutual pinning, someone separate them before they either kiss or start fighting with their fists, fluff and CRACK. So much crack. modern au, late twenties !
words: 1.6k (masterlist)
! comment to be in the taglist of next chap !
The night was quiet.
Too quiet, Sevika thinks, just before it goes to complete shit.
One second sheâs cruising down an empty road on her beat-up motorcycle, half-zoned out, half-focused on the shitty alt-rock playing through her earbuds. The next, thereâs a sudden swerveâheadlights cutting too close, some drunk asshole in a little silver sedan veering straight into her lane like he owns it.
She jerks hard. The tires scream. And all she manages to get out is:
âMotherfuckââ
CRASH.
The ground greets her like an old friend. Asphalt tears through her jeans. Something white-hot slices across her left arm. Her prosthetic clanks off the road like dropped scrap metal. She tastes blood, maybe her lip, maybe not, who cares.
Itâs not the worst fall sheâs takenâbut itâs up there.
When she sits up, teeth grit and breath ragged, she sees red. Literally. Bloodâs running down her real arm, dripping off her knuckles. Her shirt sleeve is soaked and sticking. Thereâs a chunk missing from her forearmâdeep enough to make her stomach turn, not that sheâd ever admit that out loud.
The drunk jackass stumbles out of his car, phone in hand, already shouting something she doesnât care to hear.
âShut the fuck up,â she growls, struggling to her feet. Her legs are shaking a little. Not from pain. From rage.
Sirens in the distance. Someone called it in. Sheâs not even mad at thatâjust mad in general. At the guy. At the road. At herself. At her now-trashed bike, which is leaking oil like a goddamn faucet.
And at the fact that she knows, knows, theyâre gonna make her go to the fucking hospital. Because her prosthetic arm works fine, but the rest of her body is unfortunately still made of meat.
Right now, she would rather be a fucking robot with a human head than still human and capable of dying or bleed.
So when the paramedics roll up and one of them says something like, âMaâam, we need to take you in. Itâs procedure for cases involving prosthetics and visible traumaââ
She doesnât even let him finish.
âI swear to god,â Sevika snaps, âif I get stuck in a waiting room next to some old guy coughing up his lungs, Iâm suing everyone. You. The drunk shit. Your ambulance.â
The paramedic, to his credit, just sighs and straps her in.
Sevika crosses her armsâwell, one arm. The real one is now bandaged and throbbing under pressure.
Her head hits the wall of the ambulance with a soft thunk. Her jaw clenches. Her mood? Absolutely in the fucking trash.
She doesnât know it yet, but things are about to get worse.
Much worse.
The ER doors slide open with a hiss and the kind of sterile fluorescent glow that feels like an insult to injury. Literally. Sevika steps in, holding her arm to her side like itâs an afterthought, blood trailing down her fingers and onto the linoleum floor with soft, rhythmic drips.
Sheâs halfway to leaving alreadyâsheâs only here because the paramedics insisted. Procedure, they said. Standard for prosthetic users after trauma. Never mind that her fake arm is fine and the real one is just bleeding a little more than sheâd like to admit.
The waiting roomâs half-empty, save for a man coughing up his entire lung in the corner and a woman arguing with a vending machine.
Didnât she say she would sue everyone if sheâs stuck with a man coughing up his entire lung ?
Sevika scowls harder.
âTake a seat,â says the paramedic, gesturing vaguely toward a row of blue plastic chairs.
âIâll stand,â she mutters, leaning against the wall like the picture of annoyed dignity, bleeding out all over the floor.
A nurse pokes her head out from behind a curtain. Clipboard in hand. Eyes tired. Ponytail falling loose. Scrubs slightly wrinkled and a coffee cup gripped like a lifeline.
And you see Sevika. Blood-slick arm, prosthetic shoulder, full scowl.
You squint at your chart, your half-cold coffee clutched like a religious relic.
âSevika?â you ask, tone neutral, almost bored.
She nods. Scowling.
âCool. Youâre bleeding on my floor. Letâs fix that.â
You donât wait. You just turn and start walking.
Because youâre tired of being on nigh-shift.
Sevika glares daggers into your back as you walk ahead of her, utterly unbothered.
âYâknow I could just leave.â
You stop walking, turn, only to raise an eyebrow, deadpan. âOh. Please do. I could use the break.â
And you both glare at each other. You turn around, start to walk again. And she ends up following you anyway. Mostly out of spite.
Because what else is she gonna do? Bleed in the parking lot?
The curtain slides shut behind you both, and you gesture to the hospital bed like youâre showing a table at a Dennyâs.
âSit. Bleed responsibly.â
Sevika mutters something under her breath and climbs up onto the bed. Not gently.
You snap gloves on and take a glance at her arm. âLetâs take a look.â
âItâs fine,â Sevika mutters. âI donât need stitches.â
You hum. âSure. And Iâm here for the vibes. I love the pasty light of the hospital at night.â
âIâm serious,â she says, jaw clenched. âI donât need the whole routine.â
And maybe itâs the toneâsharp, ungrateful, like youâre the problem for doing your jobâbut thatâs when you finally look up and smile. Sweet. Ironic.
âOh, I see,â you say, voice lighter now, dry like youâve just been handed a comedy set. âGreat. Then Iâll just wipe the blood off your fine open wound and send you home with a sticker, leatherface.â
Sevika blinks. âDid you just call meâ?â
âYeah. I call all my 3AM drama queens that. And you have a scar on your cheek.â You tap her forearm gently. âYouâre just louder about it. Now: your arm.â
Sevika stares. You stare back.
The silence stretches.
Finally, she sighs and extends her arm.
You work efficiently, methodically, caffeinated sarcasm humming just under your breath as you clean and inspect the gash. Itâs deep but clean. Needs stitches. Nothing life-threatening.
She wants to bark back. Something about you being a nosy bitch with a clipboard. But instead, she bites her tongue because youâre cleaning the gash now. And youâre doing it well. Gentle but fast. She barely notices the stingâuntil you spray the antiseptic like a war crime.
âSo what do you do,â you ask, focused on the gash, âwhen youâre not crashing into the pavement at two in the morning?â
âBartender.â
âOof.â You glance up with a grin. âThat explains the mood. How many fights do you have to stop in a week?â
âToo many.â
You snortâshe doesnât know if youâre mocking her or not. âGuess that makes this your second shift tonight. Drunk idiots all the time, and now the bonus level: face-planting into the road.â
Sevikaâs jaw tightens. Her voice comes out low, clipped. âYeah, well, I had other shit to do tonight besides being taken care of by a sassy nurse after twelve hours of dragging drunk assholes out by their collars.â
You arch an eyebrow, not even blinking. âOh, same. I also had plans to be in my bed, dead asleepâbut instead Iâm patching up a gruff, barking biker with a god complex and a resting death face.â
Thereâs a pause.
The room goes quiet except for the beep of some machine in the next bay over.
Thenâsoftly, sharplyâSevika snorts.
Just once.
Maybe out of despair, maybe because sheâs amused. She doesnât know.
You catch it, but you donât comment. Just smile to yourself and get back to work, as if neither of you just accidentally acknowledged how stupidly natural that exchange felt
Sevika wants to hate you. Really. She tries to.
But youâre fast. Skilled. Too confident for someone so annoyingly bubbly. You needle her without missing a stitch or slipping once. And you donât back downânot even when she throws her sharpest glare at you.
âYou done?â she asks as you tape the final bit of gauze over her arm.
âAlmost. I just need you to sign a few things, promise you wonât go back to your bike tonight, and swear that youâll stop snarling at nice nurses.â
She raises an eyebrow. âWho said youâre nice?â
You smirk, peeling off your gloves. âNo one. I know i am.â
You finish taping up the last strip of gauze with a little more pressure than strictly necessaryânot enough to hurt, but enough to remind her whoâs in control of the medical supplies.
âThere,â you say, straightening up and tossing your gloves into the bin. âYouâre good to go. Try not to throw yourself at the pavement again for at least a week.â
Sevika doesnât answer. Just swings her legs off the bed, testing the arm like she doesnât completely trust it despite watching you fix it with textbook precision. Then she stands.
No thank you. No nod. Not even eye contact.
She just mutters, âWhatever. Iâm going home,â and starts walking toward the curtain.
You stare at her back, jaw slack, just floored by the audacity. Then you call out, voice sweetly venomous:
âOh, yeahâyouâre welcome!â
Then, under your breath: âFucking asshole.â
The curtain whips shut behind her.
And neither of you notice the slim, black phone sitting right there on the hospital bed, screen face-down. Left behind. Abandoned in a rush of bandages and ego.
You sigh, stretch your back, and grab your coffee again.
Somehow, you just know this isnât the last time youâll see her.
The apartment door slams behind her.
Sevika kicks off her boots like they personally told her to fuck herself and shrugs off her jacket with her prosthetic arm, the other still sore and wrapped tight. Her whole body achesâshoulder, ribs, pride. She doesnât even turn on the light.
Itâs nearly four in the morning.
She crashes into bed half-clothed, face-first, growling into her pillow.
âFucking nurse,â she mutters. âMouthy littleââ
She trails off with a groan and gives up. Too tired to be angry. Too wired to sleep. And too aware that the ghost of your voice is still echoing in her ears:
âTry not to throw yourself at the pavement again.â
She curses again. Loud. Muffled by the pillow.
And then, blessedly, sleep.
Sunlight hits her in the face like a punch.
Sevika groans and rolls onto her back. The apartmentâs warm now, windows leaking in summer heat. Her mouth is dry. Her arm throbs.
She squints at the clock on the wall.
10:48 AM.
ââŚShit.â
She bolts upright, dragging her jeans halfway up one leg as she limps through the apartment trying to find her phone, cursing the entire way.
Not on the kitchen counter.
Not on the couch.
Not under the bed.
She stops in the middle of the room, breathing hard. Her hairâs a mess. Her shirtâs only on one arm. She looks like a hungover cryptid.
And thenâthenâit hits her.
A flash.
The hospital bed.
Her phone, screen down on the sheet as she walked away, too pissed to think straight. Too busy storming off like she had something to prove.
Sevika freezes.
And says, slowly, through her teeth:
ââŚFuck.â
Sarcasm is a lifestyle. Hope you guys will love this one as much as you loved the firefighter fic !
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Qualityâ Free Actions
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming