#give that smile a Nobel prize

[atomsminecraft]

Me rn:

[nereidprinc3ss]

baby fever

in which reader and spencer discuss having a baby while at work

fluff warnings/tags: fem/AFAB!reader, bau!reader, BOYFRIEND!SPENCER or husband if u so desire, discussions of pregnancy/having a baby (obviously), reader wants a baby, so does spencer a/n: god i need him so badly. should i write follow up smut?? mwahaha evil emoji......

The coffee finished brewing minutes ago, but you’re still standing by the pot, watching Anderson’s daughter toddling around the bullpen on chubby legs. She’s not very adept at walking, but her spirit is indomitable—every time she tips a little too far forward, she catches herself and gets right back up. It’s not like she’s doing anything particularly impressive or even interesting, but you can’t take your eyes off her. Every movement makes your heart twinge, every giggle or curious quirk of her head is so adorable it physically hurts in your chest. 

From your peripheral vision you see Spencer approaching, bearing his own empty mug, but not even he can draw your attention away from the adorable little pixie and her tutu and her pigtails. 

“That is the cutest kid I have ever seen in my life,” you whisper to Spencer, hoping the quiet tone of your voice will help hide how much you feel like cooing and squealing. 

He smiles to himself as he pours his coffee. 

“That’s Rosie. Have you said hi yet?” 

“I’m afraid if I talk to her I’ll try to keep her.” 

“She is pretty adorable.” 

You turn to him as he leans next to you on the counter, sipping his coffee casually. 

“Adorable? Spencer. Puppies are adorable. You’re not understanding the magnitude of what I mean right now. I can’t explain to you how much adorable doesn’t cut it. I’m not kidding about the child abduction thing.” 

HIs eyes slide around the room as he chuckles into his mug. 

“Let’s maybe not joke about kidnapping a child in FBI headquarters.” 

“I’m not joking,” you hiss. “I feel like I’m going insane. I just—” 

At the last second you stop yourself, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. 

“You just what?” Spencer asks, adjusting the hem of your shirt with his free hand. You glance down, watching the care he takes in the tiniest detail that you wouldn’t have given a second thought to. 

“Is something wrong with my shirt?” 

His eyes flick up to yours, hazel tinted with mild surprise. 

“No. It just was sliding up your waist a little bit.” As he says it, his knuckles brush the bare skin of your torso. You suppress a shiver, studying his profile once he pulls his hand away and goes for another sip. 

“Can we have one?” 

Your inopportune timing results in coffee dribbling down Spencer’s chin as he quickly attempts to wipe it away, wide eyes torn between you and trying to assess the mess he’s made. 

“You--you mean like a baby?” 

“Yeah, like a baby,” you say, grabbing his shoulders and squaring them to you before dabbing the coffee from his face and jacket. He watches on as you clean him up, completely still except for his wandering eyes. 

“I thought we were waiting on that.” 

“Waiting for what? A better time? There’s never going to be a good time with this job. And it’s not like we’d have to quit. Look at JJ. She has two and still does it.” 

“First of all,” Spencer begins, quickly recovering from your surprise proposition, “I don’t love the idea of either of us being in the field with you pregnant. And secondly, JJ also has Will and her mother to take care of the boys. We don’t have that. We’re both here all the time.” 

“I don’t care,” you groan, trashing the paper towels once you’ve done the best you can with his clothing. “We’d figure it out somehow!” 

“Mhm. It sounds like you’ve really devoted some careful consideration to this.” 

You drop your head to your shoulder, giving him your best puppy dog eyes and pulling lightly on his shirtsleeve. 

“Oh, come on. You haven’t thought about it at all? My perfect brain and your pretty face fusing to create a future Nobel-prize winner? Imagine how cute she would be, Spencer, we could put her hair in little braids and pigtails and we could dress her up and she could be in soccer and ballet and—” 

“She?” he smiles, studying your face intently. You roll your eyes. 

“Yes, she. Obviously we would have a girl. You—” 

The idea of Spencer as the father of your daughter hits you like a tidal wave, stopping you dead in your tracks. The images materialize in your mind’s eye so clearly, it’s like they’re already memories, so real and tangible you have no doubt it must come to fruition someday. But if before, your ranting was mostly a silly fantasy—now it’s become a bit more intense. 

He seems to sense your shift in mood. The big smile thaws slightly as he subtly grabs your hand on the counter. 

“What? What’s wrong?” 

There he goes again. Being kind. Being perfect. 

Tears sting your eyes, but you don’t let them fall.  

“Nothing. Nothing is wrong. I just... didn’t realize how badly I actually wanted that until I said it out loud.” 

The concern in his eyes softens to pure affection as he runs his thumb over the back of your hand. 

“I want it too. And whenever you decide you’re ready I’ll drop everything for you.” 

His words are like compounding pressure to the deep heat within you—forming something so solid and perfect you don’t have to wonder if it’s real. A ten on the Mohs scale, a concept that gets closer to actualizing by the minute.  

Your voice is quiet, revelatory as you admire the amber facets in his eyes. 

“You’re ready?”  

“I’ve been ready for quite some time,” he admits. And at once you feel the certainty of him paint your past and your future with one broad brushstroke. One day you will look back on your life and remember the time before Spencer, and that will be it. There is before Spencer, and with Spencer, but never an after Spencer. He wants to create something utterly permanent with you. “Come here.” 

He sets his mug down, carefully pulling you forward so you’re toe to toe with your back to the rest of the BAU; so that only he can see you. Despite how good the two of you are at avoiding PDA, occasionally an exception is made. He tenderly wipes away the few tears that have sprung from your waterline and accepts your arms around his waist, mirroring your embrace and completely enveloping you.  

“I love you,” he murmurs against the top of your hair, quiet enough that nobody in the office has a chance of hearing it. You sniffle. 

“I love you too. Also you smell really good.” 

He chuckles, hand roaming up and down your back for a moment. 

“And that is why we are holding off on this at least for a while.” 

“What do you mean?” you whisper indignantly as he gently peels you off him. His hands remain a steadying force on your waist as he smiles down at you beatifically. 

“I mean let’s give it two weeks and see if you still want a baby when you’re not ovulating.” 

[leaawrites]

Taste Test

Percy Jackson x fem!reader

A little something inspired by this post from @/Ilovedletters

Summary: Percy, as your boyfriend, always carries everything with him he knows you forget often.

Masterlist

Being on a quest is tiring and boring at times. You can walk for hours without anything happening and then the next second you're trying not to die. It was beautiful. Truly beautiful.

Especially when you are a person who forgets their stuff quite often and never brings all that they wanted to. Y/n was one of those people. Always needing something, never having it with her.

"Oh shit," she cursed as her hands angrily let her bag fall to the ground. She felt stressed and her lips were as dry as a dessert.

"What's wrong?" Percy asked from beside her.

They were sat in a booth in some diner, getting something quick to eat before continuing traveling towards their destination.

"I forgot my lip balm," she said, laying her head on her crossed arms, so she wouldn’t touch the table with it. "And my lips feel like they will lose their skin any second."

Without saying another word, Percy got his own backpack and searched for the lip balm he had in case she forgot hers. He knew how quickly her lips dried out and how often she would complain about it. So, he brought one everywhere, just in case.

"Here," he said, holding it out to her. "Strawberry flavor. Your favourite." He grinned like he just won the Nobel Prize for Best Boyfriend. Which he truly deserved, by the way.

"Your favourite," Y/n corrected the boy with a small smile. Accepting it, she thanked him and applied it quickly.

"Same thing," he shrugged, not ashamed to admit that he liked the taste of it. "Now give me a kiss. It's a new one, so I gotta taste test."

Y/n laughed at his behavior, but still she put a small kiss on his lips.

"And, how is it?" She asked, pulling away.

Percy put his lips together as if he had to take the taste really in. Acting like he was thinking about it, he answered, "I think it passes."

[traveler-at-heart]

Doctor's In - Part 9

Wanda Maximoff x Doctor!R

Summary: New Year, new... relationship challenges? Sharing a home isn't all fun and games.

A/N: Everyone, please don’t tell me how much you hate where this story is going just because it seems like R will cheat on Wanda. There’s more to the plot and it’s not something I’m doing just randomly, I’m spending time and effort into creating a fic that is a bit more nuanced or at least I hope it is.

Natasha is not a people person.

Which is funny, considering her profession. She’s created a system that allows her to interact with patients as little as possible, and to focus on what she understands best: the human heart.

Not as a metaphor for sentimental stuff, but as a perfect machine.

She’s out of her element now, and considering the stupid drunk that is shouting in the middle of the ER, Natasha thinks it’s better to check if you’re around later.

“Is anybody going to take a look at this?” the man raises his messed up hand, slurring his words. He approaches Natasha, and she busies herself reading a chart. “Are you going to help or not, hot stuff?”

“I don’t work here” she grumbles, deciding that she’ll have to wait for you somewhere else.

“I was hoping you could take care of me. Where are you going? I'm talking to you” he says when she turns to leave, his good hand flying to grab her by the elbow.

Natasha is ready to throw a punch, but she never feels his touch in any part of her body.

“Lay a hand on her and I will strap you to a hospital bed and give you a colonoscopy without anesthesia” you say, surprising him with your strenght. “Now, sir, sit the fuck down and someone will be with you shortly”

“I’ll handle it” Barnes, the new nurse, approaches with his signature frown. He is equally attractive and terrifying, though most of the nurses ignore the latter.

“Thank you” you smile, watching the man become quiet as Barnes grabs him by the shoulder, knowing he won’t be able to say anything stupid to him. “Hi, Nat”

“Hey, stranger” she smiles at you. “I was hoping I’d run into you here”

“Is that why you were wandering the ER? You could just text me” you smile, walking with her to the cafeteria. “My shift ended an hour ago, which is why I wasn’t the one dealing with that asshole”

“Thank you for that, you are such a gentlewoman. I am dissapointed, though. I was hoping you’d stay for our first lesson today”

“Of course I am. I wouldn’t miss it for the world”

Most of the hospital was buzzing with excitement at learning the new surgical technique that had earned Melina Romanoff a Nobel Prize. The exception was Tony, but that was only because he was convinced the Romanoffs had a secret, evil plot to take over. Even Pepper had told me to chill in front of everyone.

You sit at the front, saving a spot for Darcy and follow every word Natasha says. She’s just going over some of the theory and the process of how the research came to be, which is still very interesting to you. Medical research required patience and focus that you did not have, so you had turned your professional development to trauma, as well as search and rescue training.

“We’ll meet on Wednesday to start the first exercises” she finishes the presentation, and winks at you discreetly.

You smile, leaving the conference room, Darcy right behind you.

“What was that?”

“What? Were you expecting exercises from the get go?”

“I meant the wink. Why was she winking at you?” Darcy insists and you shrug your shoulders.

“I don’t know. Friends wink at each other. I wink at you!”

“If you winked at me, I’d think you’re having a stroke” Darcy insists, and you have to roll your eyes. “It was flirty”

“Natasha knows about my relationship, we are just friends” you say, eager to finish the conversation.

“I just think there’s something fishy about this”

“You too? Stark got to you, Lewis” you mock, nudging her shoulder. “Come on, it’s all fine. I gotta get home, though, I forgot to tell Wanda I was staying longer”

“I hope she kicks your ass for that!” Darcy says as you run out of the hospital.

“Yeah, yeah”

As you drive home, you stop by the shopping street to get Wanda some flowers. You don’t think she’ll be too upset about you being late, but it never hurts to be safe.

Still, as you park in the driveway, you take a couple of minutes inside your car, looking at your old home in the rearview mirror.

Truth be told… you’re stalling. Though you love everyone inside the Maximoff house very much, you’ve had so much work these past two weeks, and it’s always a bit exhausting to get home and find the kids running around or Pietro complaining about something.

As someone who went from living alone to sharing a house with four other people full time, it was definitely overwhelming to say the least.

You take a last, deep breath and step inside the house, Pietro watching a show while the twins play in the backyard.

“You’re late” he comments.

“Work stuff” is all you say, not feeling in the mood to justify your tardiness to someone who isn’t Wanda.

But, as you enter the kitchen and your eyes meet hers, you can tell she’s also a little upset.

“Sorry, work ran long” you apologize, offering the flowers. She tries to smile and you put them down on the counter. “I really am sorry, Wands”

“No, it’s ok. I’m just behind with the book and the kids were a little difficult today… I could have used your help, that’s all”

I could have used some rest, you want to say, but that won’t help. It’s not forever, you keep thinking. Pietro will get better and move out, and things will be less crowded.

“I’ll be here all day tomorrow, I can take care of anything you need” you promise, saying goodbye to the prospect of a good nap. To keep yourself busy, you take out stuff to make a sandwich, sighing when you notice you’re out of cheese. “Like going to the grocery store, I guess”

Pietro keeps eating everything and by the time you’re home, there’s barely any food left.

“And you’re coming to the twins game on Wednesday, right?”

“Oh” you pause, scratching your neck. “I have to go to the hospital”

“Again? It seems like you’re there all week” Wanda protests.

“Well, yeah, we’re understaffed, between people being sick and others taking time off. I have to go and head the department, it’s my job, Wanda” you say, suddenly not hungry.

Nothing’s enough, you’re not good enough.

“I just… miss you. That’s all” Wanda says, and you sigh, feeling like an asshole.

“I know. I’m sorry. It’s always crazy during January, plus we’re doing a new training with a doctor from Boston. Things will settle in a couple of weeks, I promise��

“Ok” she nods, smiling as you approach her, kissing her temple. “But you’ll have to make it up to me”

“I have a few ideas for that, Miss Maximoff” you smile, pulling her against you and kissing her temple. “And none of them include clothes”

“Good” she laughs, standing on her toes to kiss you.

—

You wanted to have a good day, you really did. Wanda needed some work done on her new study so you dropped off the kids and drove to the hardware store, trusting Pietro could be fine on his own for a while.

What really ruined the mood happened on the way back home.

While turning on a busy street, your mother calls and instead of pressing the ignore button, you answer.

“Fuck” you mutter and it’s too late to hang up. “Hey, mom”

Wanda perks up at that, curious about your mother. She has never even heard her voice, let alone watch you have a conversation on the phone with her. She can tell your posture stiffens.

“Hello, Y/N. I missed your call for the holidays”

“Had lots of work” you lie.

“Oh, well. Hope you liked your birthday present” the woman says in a kinder tone and you almost want to laugh.

“Yeah, thanks. Really appreciate it”

“So, I don’t have a lot of time, wanted to let you know we’re flying there next week but we’re just gonna stay for three days. I don’t think we’ll have the time to meet you. Plus, it’s just us family, you know”

“Right” you try to sound disappointed, but are actually tempted to stop the car and dance around the street. “Some other time”

“Just make sure you’re available in case we need anything. It’s the least you can do”

“Of course” you agree, looking out of the corner of your eye at the confused expression on Wanda’s face. “Have fun, say hi to everyone for me”

“Ok, you take care now”

The minute she hangs up, you let out a huge sigh of relief.

“What was that?” Wanda says, frowning.

“Which part, love?”

“Everything! Ok, first of all, the birthday present. What did she get you? I didn’t see anything delivered”

“Wanda, she doesn’t even know where I live. What happened was, someone walked by and she pretended to be nice. She’s always done it” you explain, feeling irritated. All you want is to be happy that you won’t see her, but Wanda is pushing the subject.

“And what about them coming? And not making the time to see you? Just us family? You’re her daughter!”

“Wanda, please, drop it” you plead, parking outside your home and stepping out of the car.

“Why is she like this? Why don’t you call her out on it? And I’m sorry, I just can’t understand someone being so horrible to their own child”

“Wanda!” you snap, slapping the trunk of the car. “I know, she’s horrible. I don’t care if she lies about getting me a birthday present and I don’t care enough about her to call her out for being mommy dearest. I am just so damn happy that I don’t have to be around her anymore, can we please focus on that?”

“I am just trying to understand. You never tell me anything about her” Wanda protests and you can’t believe she’s still talking about this.

“Everything there is to know, you already know, Wanda. What else would you like to learn? That sometimes I went to bed without having dinner because she thought I was getting fat? Or that when I got a summer job and was out too late she only let me sleep on the porch? What other fucking twisted things would you like to learn about that awful woman?”

“I…”

“If I say it’s complicated or I don’t want to talk about it, maybe just listen once. Here” you toss the car keys her way, not caring if she catches them or not. “I’m going for a walk”

You’d do more than walk if you were wearing different shoes and it wasn’t so damn cold. Still, you don’t make it very far, running into a black and white bunny in the middle of the street. None of your neighbors have pet rabbits, not that you can recall.

“Where did you come from?” you say, hugging the little thing and feeling relaxed as it moves its nose and settles in your arms.

“Señor Scratchy!” Agatha yells from her porch, and you turn around.

“I take it he’s yours?”

“Yes, Rio gave him to me. Señor Scratchy, what are you doing outside?” the woman says with a soft voice, taking him back. “I don’t know how he got out”

“Maybe your fence? Let’s take a look” you walk around to her backyard, pointing at an old part of her wooden fence. “Aha!”

“Oh, great. It will take forever to find someone to fix it” she grumbles. “He’ll have to stay inside for the time being”

“I can fix it. It will only take an hour or so” you say, eager to stay out of the house for a bit longer.

“Well, aren’t you a sweetheart?” Agatha squeezes your cheek and then slaps it gently. “Just remember, I’m already taken, hot stuff”

“I’m just fixing your fence, Miss Harkness” you wink. “I’ll be back with the stuff we need”

Wanda seems to be in her study when you go back home. The fact that you feel relieved instead of sad for making her hide does make you a little guilty.

Truth is, you’ve never lived with anyone you had a relationship with, and neither did she. Maybe you’re both expecting things to be perfect, and it’s just not realistic. Disagreements are bound to happen when you share a home.

Right?

As you work on Agatha’s fence, you keep thinking about a way to make things work for everyone, because you’ve had a couple of fights with Wanda in the span of two days and you really don’t want to make it a habit.

“Did that fence do something to you?” Agatha interrupts you, handing over a glass of water.

“Huh?” you look up at her, taking it and nodding your thanks.

“You're nailing that wood a little too hard, hot stuff” she says, dragging a garden chair and sitting next to you. “Spill”

Saying it’s nothing won’t stop her from asking, so you keep working and tell her everything that has been going on. How the house feels too crowded sometimes, and work is kicking your ass. It takes a minute, but you admit that Wanda really upset you, questioning why you didn’t stand up to your mother.

“I don’t know, I guess it’s something I’ve always wondered myself. Why didn’t I say something instead of being weak. It struck a nerve when Wanda said it out loud”

“Did she call you weak?” Agatha says, frowning.

“No, that’s me being dramatic” you chuckle.

“Look, it’s what I told you the other day. Not everyone understands it, because most people have a semi functional relationship with their parents. And from the sound of it, Wanda’s were straight out of a sitcom”

“I guess”

“She doesn’t have to understand it. She just has to respect your boundaries” Agatha says and you nod, still thinking about everything. “Have you ever thought about going no contact with your mother?”

“Is that what you did?”

“Oh, honey, my mother’s dead. So unless I pull out a Ouija board, we’re no contact already” she cackles, which makes you laugh.

“I don’t know. If she needs something, I guess I would try to help her. If she was a bad mother, that’s on her. But I won’t be a bad daughter”

“You’re too good” Agatha pats your back, and you smile at her.

“Alright, well, your fence is fixed. Can we call it even with the therapy session you just gave me?” you stand up, making sure everything’s in its place.

“Nu-uh, you owe me” Agatha jokes, taking the bunny out to the backyard. “You’ll be fine. Tú puedes”

“Duolingo?”

“Rio’s been teaching me Spanish. The other stuff I can’t say it to you because it’s dirty and for her ears only” the brunette winks, which makes you blush. “Bye, Y/N”

“Bye, Agatha” you roll your eyes at her antics, feeling better as you walk back home.

You figure it’s better to start working on what Wanda needs, so you carry the stuff upstairs and knock before entering the guest room turned into a study.

“Hey” you say, as Wanda looks out the window instead of working.

“Hi”

“I’ll fix the lights and then adjust your desk, or do you need to work now?” you ask, unsure if she’s also upset at you.

“No, that’s fine. It’s not even important, you should rest, work has been crazy for you” she finally turns, and you can tell she’s trying hard not to cry.

“Hey… come here” you step closer, pulling her into a hug. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m really sorry for pushing the subject. I can’t imagine someone being so awful to you, and I made you… I should have kept it to myself”

“It’s… yeah. It wasn’t nice and I really don’t like to look back at everything that happened. But I know you didn’t mean any harm, ok? I love you, baby” you kiss her temple, feeling her relax in your arms. “Why don’t you go check on your brother? He’s been too quiet, which can only mean he’s getting into some sort of trouble”

“Or buying more stuff from Amazon. We barely fit here” Wanda grumbles and you laugh, kissing her. “I’m sorry”

“I know. You’ll make it up to me in bed” you joke, which makes her laugh.

“Maybe now that he’s busy…”

In that precise moment, her brother decides to call for Wanda.

“Go” you kiss Wanda again, wishing you had more time just with her.

—

Natasha’s not excited about the day ahead, the only silver lining being that she gets to see you. There’s nothing wrong with that, of course. She’s flirting and constantly eyeing you, but nothing’s gonna happen.

Not on a lack of desire on her part. It’s pretty obvious you’re not the type of person who cheats. Pretty ironic, she finally meets a decent woman and you’re already taken.

What does that girlfriend of yours have that she doesn’t? Aside from two kids that adore you. Is the whole housewife thing really that appealing to someone like you?

As she enters the room for the next lesson, Natasha notices you’re sitting a few rows behind. That’s a little disappointing. Still, your eyes follow her every move and she feels a little surge of pride at that.

If only you were single, Natasha might get you to roleplay that teacher-student fantasy she’s had.

Still, as she finishes her explanation, you walk up to her, smiling.

“That was brilliant, Natasha” a brunette doctor walks behind you, and you reach out to stop her. “Hey, come meet Doctor Romanoff, Darcy”

“Pleased to meet you. We’re loving the lessons” she says, not wanting to make small talk. “Y/N, come on. I’m starving”

“Oh, I was thinking we could go out for a bite if you’d like?” you turn to Natasha, smiling.

“I’ve got surgery in half an hour” Darcy says, glaring at you.

“Nat?” you turn to the woman, smiling. “Bishop can take care of the ER for me”

“Yeah, I’d love to” Natasha says, kicking herself over how fast she agrees to doing anything you ask.

“Awesome, I know this great place” you begin saying, but she gets a phone call. Natasha looks at you apologetically, but you smile, while Darcy is pulling at your sleeve and giving her a strange look.

“I’ll only take a moment” Natasha promises.

“Yeah, that’s fine”

“A word, Y/N?” Darcy finally gets your attention back and you frown.

Natasha doesn’t care much about the new doctor, unless she’s also fighting for your attention. She finds an empty room to take the call, shutting the door behind her.

“What is it, mother?”

“How’s the second lesson?”

“Fine. Do you keep a timer on your desk?”

“I just like to know if the study plan I designed is working, Natalia. That way, when we move to the next one, it can be more efficient until we manage a global, scalable solution”

“We? I’m only doing this here and then I’m going back to my research, you agreed” Natasha reminds her, blood boiling.

“This is your legacy too”

“Then how come I wasn’t up there getting the Nobel with you?”

“Natalia, those are insignificant things compared to what we can acheive” Melina scoffs.

“I’m not going to spend another month in a different hospital just because you’re too paranoid about someone stealing your research”

“Fine, then get me a new Head of Trauma for Boston and we’ll consider it even” Melina says. “You know Yelena wants to focus on that, she needs someone who can teach her”

“There are tons of applicants. Choose one from the pile in your desk, Mother” Natasha sighs, knowing where this is going.

“What about that doctor you told me about? You sounded so enamoured last time”

“She wouldn’t move to another city, her girlfriend’s here” Natasha says.

“Girlfriends aren’t wives. Well, even spouses can get divorced. Maybe she just needs to hear the right offer” Melina insists.

“Mother…”

“You’re not resuming your research until you find a new Head of Trauma. That’s final, Natalia” the woman loses her cool, hanging up on her daughter.

Natasha feels so stupid, of course this would happen. Melina never cared about anything other than herself and her accomplishments.

“Fuck” the woman says, kicking one of the chairs. You walk inside that precise moment, jumping at the outburst.

“You ok?” you say, locking the door.

“Yeah. It’s nothing”

You let out a sigh, sitting next to her in the bed of the on call room.

“We can skip lunch if you’re not hungry”

“It’s not that. I mean, I’m not hungry anymore, my mother just pissed me off” Natasha shakes her head, trying to calm her racing heart.

“You got one of those too, huh?” you chuckle. “I’m sorry, Nat, honestly. It’s the worse feeling in the world. Someone who should support you trying to bring you down, and then no one believing you because there’s this collective denial that mothers can be bad people”

“Yeah, that’s exactly it. To everyone else she’s a genius. To me, she’s the woman who’s always reminding me how ordinary I am compared to her” Natasha fiddles with her hands, not used to being vulnerable. Not with someone who understands her so well.

“You’re not ordinary, Natasha” you say with so much conviction that the redhead looks up, eyes meeting yours. “And if your mother thinks that, I’m sorry to say that she’s not as smart as I thought”

Natasha laughs, blushing a little at the compliment. You nudge her with your elbow, standing up.

“Want some coffee instead? If you’re not hungry anymore” you place your hand in the doorknob, checking if she’s ready to step out.

“Yeah, sure”

As you nod and open the door, Natasha stands up, reaching for your wrist.

“I… thank you. You’re too kind to me” she says in a low voice.

“I guess I know how isolating it can be. If you ever want to talk, I’m here” you squeeze her arm in return, smiling at her.

Natasha is about to say something else, something probably really stupid, when a voice calls behind you.

“Detka, there you are”

“Wanda? Hi, what are you doing here?” you step out of the room now, looking at your girlfriend. Wanda, however, is focused on the very attractive redhead that follows behind you, noticing you were alone seconds ago

“Am I interrupting something?” she says, eyes not leaving Natasha’s figure.

“What? No, this is Nat… eh, doctor Romanoff. She’s the doctor from Boston who is giving us the course” you explain, looking between both women. Natasha is the first one to give up the staring contest, extending her hand to Wanda.

“Nice to meet you. Y/N has told me so much about you and your boys”

“I’m happy to hear that”

Happy that you know she’s taken.

“So, uh… what are you doing here?” you ask, still thrown off by Wanda’s presence. Ever since Pietro was discharged, she has never been back to the hospital. If you recall correctly, she said she had enough of hospitals for a lifetime.

“I need to talk to you for a second. Alone”

“I’ll meet you in a second” you smile as Natasha walks back to the conference room and she nods. When you turn to Wanda she has a strange look in her eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“You never told me she was this pretty”

“Who?”

“Natasha”

“I didn’t notice” you mumble, scratching your neck. “And anyways, that’s not why you’re here, is it?”

“Right. I just… I wanted to apologize again for yesterday. And make sure we’re ok. I know these past few weeks have been hard. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had to come over and see you”

“Hey, we’re ok” you promise, pulling her by the waist. “I love you, you love me and we have a pretty nice family, don’t we? Even with stinky Pietro”

“I’m trying to convince him to shower daily” she laughs against your lips. It’s pretty clear that he was clean during his hospital days because he got sponge baths.

“It’s either that or hosing him down in the backyard”

“I’d like to see that” your girlfriend laughs and you take her hand, bringing it to your lips. “I’ll let you get back to work”

“Ok, if I can I’ll leave early” you kiss her cheek, squeezing her waist until you’re hand goes dangerously lower. “And maybe we can have some makeup sex”

“Mmhm you’d like that wouldn’t you” Wanda slaps your shoulder. “Go”

But as you wave goodbye and walk up to meet Natasha, Wanda doesn’t miss the look on the redhead's eyes.

She knows it, because it’s the same way Wanda looks at you. And that’s all it takes for her to decide, she doesn’t like the other woman.

—

It’s not as late as you thought, because when you get home everyone’s finishing dinner.

“She lives” Pietro says when you walk in.

“He bathes” you say, noticing his wet hair. “Did Wanda tell you I was going to hose you down?”

He doesn’t get to reply, because the kids jump in your arms.

“My stinky minions! Did you win the game today?”

“No, you have to come to the next one. You’re our lucky charm” Billy says.

“Pinky promise, I will come to the next one” you nod, moving to kiss Wanda. “Hey, gorgeous”

“Moya lyubov” she says and you smile, always loving that accent. “Come have dinner while the kids shower”

“Can you read us a story when you finish?” Tommy asks.

“Of course. Now go with Mom, I’ll be there as soon as I’m done”

The kids cheer as you get a plate and serve some delicious lasagna. Now you really don’t regret coming home early.

“Alright, I’m calling it a night. I’m exhausted” Pietro says.

“From showering?” you joke, but he fake laughs as he pushes his wheelchair away. “Leave your plate, I’ll clean it up”

“Thanks, sestra”

As you eat, you remember to send a text to Natasha, asking if she wants to have lunch with you tomorrow before she heads back to Boston for the rest of the week.

The kids are ready for bed and you walk upstairs, sitting between their beds and reading Dragon Feathers, which was your father’s favorite bedtime story to tell. Billy and Tommy laugh as you make different voices, the way your dad did when he told you the tale.

As soon as you’re done, they settle in bed, and Wanda’s the one who tucks them in, joining you at the door.

“I missed this” you say against her temple.

“I missed you” she agrees, leaning against your side. “Come to my study, I want to show you the drawings I made for the book”

The new working space was starting to grow on Wanda. Even if it was smaller, she had enough room to fit everything she needed, and her view was much better from the second floor.

You admire the sketches she hands you, looking at every detail and stroke of her pencil.

“Could I see you work one day? I don’t think I’ve ever done that, baby” you say, in awe of her talent.

“I don’t know, I might get too nervous”

“Please?” you pout, hoping that will change her mind. Wanda rolls her eyes and leans forward, standing on the tip of her toes to kiss you. Her movements turn more frantic and she catches you off guard when she pushes you against the small sofa, straddling your lap.

“Tell me more about her”

“About who?” you say, completely lost in the way her shirt strains against her breasts.

“That new doctor”

“Natasha?” you blink, trying to form a coherent thought. “Why?”

“Because. You’re working a lot, and apparently it’s next to a very beautiful woman whose name I hadn’t heard up until I saw you walking out of a room together”

“We were just talking” you mumble, more focused on undoing the buttons on Wanda’s shirt. She takes your wrists and pulls them away, forcing you to look up.

“I hope she knows your girlfriend is incredibly possesive and jealous” she whispers against your lips. “Or I might have to remind you who you belong to”

“I haven’t forgotten” you promise, looking at her lips intently.

“Then show me” Wanda says, her nails digging in your scalp. Whatever you were about to say dies in your lips as she kisses you, biting your lip and making you forget your name. You open your mouth, allowing her to explore it with her tongue and you carry her to the desk, pushing away everything so she can sit on it.

Wasting no time, Wanda holds her hips up so you can pull down her pants and underwear, and you kneel, moaning against her center when you begin to eat her out, desperate for her taste.

It feels like forever since you’ve had the chance to worship her body.

“That’s it” she moans as you bite the inside of her thigh, pleased with the way her legs close around your head. “I’m gonna…”

“Hold it”

“No, please”

“Did I fucking stutter? God, you are so impatient” you say, squeezing her throat as you move up, sliding two fingers inside her wet cunt. “Why can’t you just let me fuck you?”

“Oh, God” she says, getting wetter at your words.

“I think you’re the one who’s forgetting her place, baby” you say, hitting her G spot over and over until she can’t speak.

“Fuck” Wanda sighs, biting your neck as she finally gets her release. You kiss her, muffling her moans until her breathing evens out. “I missed that”

“Mhm” you smile, letting Wanda taste herself in your lips. “Come on. Let’s go to bed”

As you get changed and clean up, your phone pings several times.

“Work?” Wanda asks, but you’re smiling as you type.

“Huh? No, not work” is all you say, getting in bed and kissing Wanda. “Night, baby”

“Goodnight” she says, watching the screen of your phone light up again. You don’t notice because you’re already asleep, exhausted.

Wanda has to resist the urge to look at the text you just got.

You’ve never given her a reason to doubt you.

And yet, as she goes to bed, looking at your sleeping shape, Wanda can’t help but feel, there’s a part of you that’s not being honest.

[aainiouu]

Imagine if once Buck finds a curious looking bug on his shoulder when they are lounging in Tommy’s backyard and gets excited.

He starts babbling to and about the bug and googling what kind of a bug it is.

Tommy watches him for a bit, amused and fond.

”There isn’t a living creature you don’t find love for, is there?” he says and Buck laughs and blushes a little.

”Well, yeah, they are all just so fascinating! And just…”

”What?”

Buck laughs and his tone is nervous as he continues.

”Well… I just think that even the most strange creatures need some love, don’t you? I used to think… well… I used to think myself as a strange creature, just hoping for someone to notice me and take interest on me and love me. I— it’s stupid.”

Buck tries to wave it away but Tommy is suddenly very alert.

”All the strange creatures deserve love, babe,” he says and rubs Buck cheek under his thumb. ”And if you are a strange creature then I am your scientist, loving all of your bits and habits and being utterly, completely fascinated by them. Always.”

Tommy smiles.

”Actually, I think I would make you my life’s work. I would get my PhD in Evan Buckley studies and eventually I would win a Nobel Prize for it.”

One stray tear escapes when Buck blinks.

”They don’t give Nobel Prizes for zoology, they did add—”

”I would definitely get a Nobel Prize for it. It’s such an important work. Don’t argue with me.”

Tommy’s voice is mock stern and Buck can only kiss him after that.

”You are a sap, Kinard.”

”Maybe, but it doesn’t make it any less true.”

[moonstruckme]

You’re poly!marauders writings literally soothe my anxiety I love it so much. Could I please request poly!marauders comforting reader the night before a big presentation she’s super anxious for because she hates public speaking. I feel like they’d be so soft and encouraging when they realise how sad and anxious she is about it. You’re the best lovely 💗💖🩷

Thanks sweetheart!

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 957 words

James erupts in applause as you click to the final slide, and Sirius sticks his fingers in his mouth, whistling loudly. 

“Fantastic job!” James gushes, fawning. “Never seen anything like it. Will this presentation be considered for a nobel prize?”

“It ought to be,” Remus agrees, also clapping, albeit more normally. “That was great, dove. They’re gonna love it.” 

“Are you sure?” You look to the screen uncertainty. “The ‘thank you’ slide isn’t too informal?”

“No,” Remus confirms. “I think it’s the perfect way to signal that you’re done.” 

“But did I talk too fast? I do that sometimes.” 

He gives you an odd look. “Did you think you were talking too fast?” 

You shrug, looking at your pajama bottoms like there’s something interesting down there. “I can’t always hear it myself. Maybe I should run it through one more time, and you can let me know?”

“Wait, again?” Sirius sounds slightly alarmed. “This is a very interesting topic, but I think six practice rounds is probably enough. What, are you gonna give us a test or something?” 

You cringe. “Sorry, I don’t mean to keep you captive. I can practice it by myself.” 

You close your laptop, thinking of going to your room, but James says, “Wait, sweetheart, why do you think you need to run through it so many times? It seems like you’ve got it.” 

“I just need it to be, like, muscle memory,” you reply. “A lot of the time, once I get up there, I sort of…it’s almost like I can’t think anymore, and if I don’t know the presentation super well I won’t know what to say.” 

“I don’t think you need to worry as much as you are.” James’ voice has gone soft in that way he does when he wants to be extra kind. “Every time you’ve run through it tonight, it’s been flawless.” 

You scoff. “Yeah, because it’s just you guys.” 

“Oi,” Sirius pipes up, faux indignant. “I’ll have you know we are the most critical audience you’ll ever meet. If you can do it in front of us, those dolts will be no problem.” 

“Yeah, don’t be nervous.” James gives you a smile. “You’re going to do great.” 

“That’s a lot easier said than done,” you sigh. 

Remus pats the arm of his chair, and you abandon your laptop, letting him pull you into his lap. Your boyfriends have the ability to bring emotions you didn’t even know you had straight to the surface, and you feel unexpectedly teary as he kisses your temple. “Would it make you feel better if we came to watch tomorrow?” he asks lightly. 

You give him a small, sad smile. “Thanks, but even if you did, everyone else would still be there. It’d be a pointless trip for you.” 

“Not if you could have a hug afterwards.” He sets his chin atop your head like he’s going to make you a fortress out of his own body. “Or if you just want support in the audience, we don’t mind.” 

“I appreciate it,” you reply, “but I’ll be okay. I just need to get it down so that I don’t mess up.” 

“And what if you do mess up?” Sirius asks, characteristically blunt. “Would it really be the worst thing in the world?”

You blush, and Remus rubs your upper arm comfortingly. “No,” you admit. “It would just be embarrassing. It would kind of ruin my day, to be honest.” 

Sirius nods, looking at you evenly. “But then you get to come home, and it’ll be over. Maybe we can get you a treat or something to have tomorrow evening after you get home. That way you get a reward no matter what.” 

You fidget in Remus’ hold, and you know they’re not going to like what you’re thinking, but you say it anyway. “I won’t deserve a reward if I mess up, though.” 

“That’s not true,” James fires back instantly. “The reward doesn’t have to be only for if you give your presentation without a single hitch. It could just be for trying.” 

You’re quiet, pleading silently for a change in topic. Remus drops another kiss on the side of your head. “You’ve worked hard on this, dovey. It’s really good, and even if everything doesn’t go as planned tomorrow, you still put a lot into it,” he pauses, stooping his head so you’re looking at him. “You deserve to feel good about yourself.” 

You try to shrink, but he won’t let you, trapping you with an immovable arm around your shoulders. Remus is strong when he wants to be. He raises his eyebrows, a tiny smirk playing on his lips, until you smile. 

“Okay, you’re right,” you capitulate, leaning your head on his shoulder. “Thank you guys.” 

“Maybe it’d help if you got the presentation off your mind and just relaxed for the rest of the night,” James suggests. “There’s no point in fixating on it anymore, you’ve done all you can.” 

“Yeah, that sounds good,” you say, and then Sirius is squishing into you and Remus’ chair, sitting half on top of both of you. 

“Our poor baby,” he whines, words muffled against your cheek. “I’m sorry I made fun of your practice, sweetpea. I didn’t know you were so nervous.” 

You laugh as he moves down to your neck. “It’s okay, it’s—quit, that tickles!”

Sirius ignores you, pecking relentlessly up and down your neck as Remus struggles to keep the both of you from falling off the armchair. “You’re going to do so good,” he promises ardently. “You know that, right?”

“She doesn’t even have to know it,” James speaks for you as you gasp for breath between giggles. “We know well enough to make up for her.” 

[muiitoloko]

Owned by a Nobel

Summary: Eli, the arrogant Nobel Prize winner, claims what he believes is his — his lover. Through intense passion and undeniable control, he proves that she belongs to him alone, body and soul.

Pairing: Eli Michaelson × Fem! Reader

Warnings: Smut

Author's Notes: I just wanted to write a smut with Eli 🤷‍♀️

Also read on Ao3

Eli leaned against the doorframe, his sharp eyes following your every move as you danced around the kitchen to the infectious beat of Britney Spears’ Oops!... I Did It Again. The song filled the space with a playful energy, and you couldn’t help but lose yourself in the rhythm, moving your hips in time with the music, your voice singing along with abandon. You wore a pair of short jean shorts and a tight tank top that hugged your curves in all the right places, and Eli couldn’t tear his eyes away from you.

It had been three months since the two of you had started living together, and even now, Eli found himself surprised by how quickly things had progressed between you. He was a man used to control, precision, and certainty in his life, but you had slipped in unexpectedly—bright, spontaneous, and full of life. He hadn’t planned for any of it, least of all proposing after just a few months of dating. But there you were, in his kitchen, your presence a stark contrast to the cold, calculated life he had known before.

Eli watched as you swayed to the music, your hips moving in a way that was both innocent and sinful at the same time. He crossed his arms, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as you spun around, catching him watching you. You gave him a teasing smile, knowing exactly what you were doing to him.

"Are you singing that song to me?" Eli asked, his voice rich with amusement and a hint of something darker, more dangerous. His eyes gleamed with a possessive hunger as he took in the sight of you, his gaze lingering on the curve of your thighs exposed by the short denim, the swell of your breasts under the tight fabric of your tank top.

You laughed, flipping your hair over your shoulder and giving him a playful wink. "Maybe I am," you teased, your voice light but filled with suggestion as you turned back to the stove, stirring the contents of the pan in front of you. "Maybe I’m just a girl who can’t help making the same mistake twice."

Eli chuckled, pushing off the doorframe and walking toward you with a deliberate slowness that made your pulse quicken. His presence was commanding, as always, but there was something different about the way he looked at you tonight—something darker, more intense. He reached you in a few strides, his hands slipping around your waist, pulling you back against his chest as his lips hovered near your ear.

“Well, if you’re talking about me,” he murmured, his breath hot against your skin, "I wouldn’t call it a mistake."

You felt the heat of his body against yours, the hard planes of his chest pressing into your back as his hands slid down your waist, his fingers playing with the hem of your shorts. "Maybe it’s a mistake I like making," you replied, your voice breathless as his fingers grazed the skin just beneath your waistband.

Eli chuckled darkly, his hands moving with slow, deliberate intent as he unbuttoned your shorts, his fingers slipping inside the waistband to rest against your hips. "You’re playing a dangerous game," he whispered, his voice a low growl as his lips brushed the side of your neck. "But I think you like that."

You gasped softly as his hands slid further into your shorts, his fingers brushing against the soft skin of your thighs, teasing you with just the lightest touch. "Eli..." you murmured, your breath catching in your throat as his hands roamed your body, his touch possessive and demanding.

He smirked against your neck, his hands finally slipping lower, finding the heat between your legs as he pressed against you, his fingers moving with expert precision. "You think I haven’t noticed how you’ve been teasing me all night?" he growled softly, his voice thick with desire as his fingers began to move in slow, deliberate circles. "Dancing around in these little shorts, knowing exactly what it does to me..."

You let out a soft moan, your body responding to his touch as his fingers worked you with a skill that left you trembling. You could feel the heat building inside you, the tension coiling tight in your core as Eli’s hands continued their slow, torturous movements.

"Tell me," he muttered against your skin, his voice rough as his fingers slipped deeper, teasing your entrance with maddening precision. "Tell me you want this. Tell me you want me ."

Your breath came out in a shaky exhale, your body arching back against him as you struggled to form the words. "I want you," you gasped, your voice barely a whisper as the pleasure built inside you, your heart racing with anticipation. "I always want you."

Eli growled in approval, his hands tightening on your hips as he spun you around, pressing you against the counter with a firm, possessive grip. His lips crashed against yours in a rough, hungry kiss, his hands gripping your waist as he pressed his body against yours, leaving no space between you.

"You’re mine," he muttered against your lips, his voice filled with dark, dangerous desire. "And I’m not letting you go."

You moaned softly as his hands roamed your body, his touch rough and insistent, his lips moving to your neck as he kissed and bit at the sensitive skin there. "Eli..." you gasped, your hands clutching at his shirt as he pressed you harder against the counter, his body demanding, hungry, needing more.

"Upstairs," he growled, his voice thick with need as he pulled back, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. "Now."

You didn’t hesitate. You knew exactly what he wanted, and you were more than ready to give it to him.

And as you both made your way upstairs, the tension between you only building with every step, you couldn’t help but smile, knowing that Eli Michaelson—a man who once prided himself on his control and detachment—was completely and utterly consumed by you.

Eli followed you into the bedroom, his sharp eyes never leaving you as he started to undo his belt with deliberate slowness. You sat obediently on the edge of the bed, your fingers playing lightly with the hem of your shorts, waiting for further instructions. Your heart raced, and you couldn’t help but softly hum the tune of Oops!... I Did It Again under your breath, still lingering in the playful energy of the song, knowing exactly how much that drove him wild.

As Eli kicked his pants off his ankles, his eyes dark with that familiar, arrogant hunger, he gave himself a few teasing strokes, his hand wrapping around his already hard length, the faint glisten of pre-cum building at the tip. He smirked, his lips curling into a condescending smile as he caught the way your eyes flicked down to his hand, your breath quickening.

"Come here," he ordered, his voice low and commanding. His tone left no room for hesitation, his thumb swiping lazily over the head of his cock as he beckoned you closer with a crooked finger. "Take care of your Nobel Prize winner first, like a good girl."

You swallowed hard, your pulse quickening as you slid off the bed and knelt in front of him, your body already responding to his words, to the authority in his voice. You loved it when he took control, loved the way he demanded everything from you with that arrogant air of superiority that made him so uniquely Eli.

He watched with a smirk as you positioned yourself between his legs, your hands reaching up to wrap around his length. But before you could even begin, his hand was in your hair, gripping it tightly, pulling your head back slightly so you had no choice but to look up at him. His eyes gleamed with dark amusement, enjoying the power he had over you, the way you obeyed him so perfectly.

"That’s right," he muttered, his voice dripping with arrogance. "You know what to do."

You nodded, your lips parting as you leaned forward, taking the tip of his cock into your mouth, tasting the salty tang of pre-cum. Eli groaned softly, his grip tightening in your hair as he guided your movements, keeping your hair pulled back so he could watch your every move, his eyes filled with possessive satisfaction.

"Look at you," he muttered, his voice thick with disdainful pleasure. "On your knees for me... exactly where you belong."

You moaned softly at his words, the vibration sending a shiver through him as you began to work your mouth over him, your tongue swirling around the head of his cock before taking him deeper. His hand never left your hair, holding you in place, controlling the pace as he pushed his hips forward, filling your mouth with his length.

"Good girl," Eli growled, his voice rough with approval as he thrust into your mouth, his cock sliding deeper with each movement. "Just like that... I always knew you’d be good for something."

You whimpered softly around him, the degrading edge to his words only making you want to please him more. His hand in your hair tightened, holding you in place as he began to fuck your mouth with slow, deliberate thrusts, each one pushing deeper, making your eyes water slightly as you tried to take him all in.

"God, you look so fucking perfect like this," he muttered, his voice a mix of arrogance and desire as he watched you struggle to keep up with his pace. "You should be grateful... not every girl gets to take care of a Nobel Prize winner, you know."

You moaned again, your hands gripping his thighs for balance as he continued to use your mouth, his hips moving with a steady, relentless rhythm. His breath came in short, ragged gasps, and you could feel the tension building in his body, his control slipping as he got closer to the edge.

"Fuck," Eli groaned, his grip tightening painfully in your hair as he thrust harder, his cock hitting the back of your throat with each movement. "You’re going to make me come... and you’re going to swallow every fucking drop."

You nodded as best as you could, your body trembling with anticipation as you continued to work your mouth over him, determined to give him exactly what he wanted. His breaths grew more ragged, his movements more urgent, and with a final, rough thrust, he groaned deeply, spilling himself into your mouth.

Eli held your head in place as he came, his eyes locked on yours, watching with satisfaction as you swallowed every drop, just as he had ordered. When he finally pulled back, he smirked, his hand releasing your hair as he leaned down, brushing his thumb over your swollen lips.

"Good girl," he muttered, his voice filled with smug satisfaction as he wiped the last traces of himself from your lips. "Now get up... we’re not done yet."

You obeyed instantly, the command in Eli’s voice sending a rush of excitement through your body. You stood up from your kneeling position and began undressing, your fingers trembling slightly as you pulled off your tank top and shorts, leaving you in nothing but your panties. Eli’s eyes were glued to you, his gaze dark and hungry as he watched your every move.

“Lie down on the bed,” he ordered, his baritone voice dripping with authority, making your pulse quicken. You nodded, climbing onto the bed and stretching out, your body already aching with anticipation as you lay there, waiting for him. Your hands instinctively moved to your breasts, squeezing them lightly, your fingers teasing your nipples as you watched him, your breath coming in short gasps.

Eli took his time, clearly enjoying the sight of you laid out before him. He removed his shirt slowly, revealing the broad chest and strong arms you had come to crave. His hooked nose flared slightly as he inhaled deeply, his hazel eyes darkening with lust as they roamed over your body, lingering on the way your hands caressed your breasts.

“You know how much I love those,” he murmured, his voice a low growl as he finally climbed onto the bed, crawling toward you like a predator stalking its prey. His cock was already starting to come to life again, twitching with renewed arousal as he reached you. He leaned down and pressed his lips to your collarbone, kissing and nipping at your skin as he slowly made his way down your body.

You gasped softly, your back arching slightly as his mouth moved lower, his hands sliding up your sides until they reached your breasts. Eli paused, pulling back slightly to take in the sight of you, his eyes filled with raw hunger as he looked at your full, soft breasts. “Fucking perfect,” he muttered, his hands moving to cup them, squeezing them firmly as his thumbs brushed over your hardened nipples.

His touch sent a jolt of pleasure straight to your core, and you let out a soft moan, your body trembling with need. Eli’s lips followed the path of his hands, kissing along the swell of your breasts before taking one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking hard. His other hand continued to knead your other breast, his fingers pinching and teasing your nipple in a way that made you writhe beneath him.

“God, I love your tits,” Eli growled, his voice muffled against your skin as he switched to the other breast, his tongue flicking over your nipple before sucking it deep into his mouth. “So fucking soft… I could spend all night right here.”

You whimpered softly, your hands tangling in his hair as he continued to lavish attention on your breasts, his mouth and hands working in perfect harmony to drive you wild. “Eli, please…” you gasped, your body arching toward him, desperate for more.

He chuckled darkly, pulling back slightly to look up at you, his lips curling into a smug smirk. “What’s the matter?” he teased, his hands still massaging your breasts as he leaned down to kiss your neck. “Are you getting impatient?”

You nodded, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps as the heat between your legs grew unbearable. “I need you,” you whispered, your voice trembling with desire. “Please, Eli…”

Eli groaned softly, his hands sliding down your body, his fingers tracing the curve of your waist before slipping between your legs. He pressed his thumb against your clit through the thin fabric of your panties, making you gasp and buck your hips toward him.

“Patience, my dear,” he murmured, his voice dripping with arrogance as he teased you, his thumb rubbing slow, torturous circles over your clit. “You’ll get what you want… when I’m ready.”

You whimpered softly, your body trembling with need as Eli continued to toy with you, his fingers brushing against the wetness that had already soaked through your panties. He smirked, clearly enjoying the way you responded to his touch, the way your body was completely at his mercy.

“Look at you,” he muttered, his voice filled with dark satisfaction as he slid your panties down, exposing your dripping wet core. “So fucking wet for me… you really can’t help yourself, can you?”

You shook your head, unable to form words as his fingers slid between your folds, teasing your entrance with maddening precision. Eli’s eyes darkened with lust as he pushed one finger inside you, then another, his thumb pressing down on your clit as he began to fuck you with slow, deliberate strokes.

You gasped, your hips bucking toward his hand as the pleasure built inside you, the tension coiling tight in your core. “Eli… please…” you whimpered, your body trembling with need as his fingers worked you with expert precision.

He chuckled softly, his breath hot against your skin as he leaned down to kiss your neck. “That’s right,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous. “Beg for it.”

“I need you,” you gasped, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps as your body trembled beneath him. “Please, Eli… I need you inside me…”

Eli groaned softly, his cock twitching with renewed arousal as he pulled his fingers from your wet heat, bringing them to his lips and licking them clean. “You taste so fucking good,” he muttered, his voice rough with desire as he positioned himself between your legs, the head of his cock pressing against your entrance.

He didn’t wait for your response. With one swift, powerful thrust, he buried himself inside you, filling you completely. You cried out, your hands clutching at his back as he began to move, his pace fast and relentless, his cock hitting that perfect spot inside you with every stroke.

Eli cursed under his breath, gripping your hips as he drove into you with deep, powerful strokes. He fucked you nearly every day, and yet you were still so deliciously tight around him, clenching and squeezing as if your body had been made for him alone. He didn’t understand it in the least—how you could still feel this good, this perfect, no matter how many times he took you.

“Fuck,” he muttered, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps as he lowered himself against you, his chest pressing into yours, the rough scratch of his chest hair brushing against your sensitive breasts with each thrust. Your hands roamed his back, one of them moving lower to cup his ass, squeezing as you tried to pull him even deeper inside you.

But Eli wasn’t about to let you take control. He growled softly, grabbing your wrist and pinning it above your head, his fingers tight around your skin as he held you there, immobile, beneath him. He smirked, leaning down to bite your chin gently, his breath hot against your lips.

“Still playing games with me, are you?” he growled, his voice thick with lust and arrogance as he continued to fuck you hard and deep. “Was that song for me? You think you can toy with my heart like that?”

You moaned in response, your body arching beneath him as he hit that perfect spot inside you over and over, your breath coming in ragged gasps. “Eli...” you whimpered, your free hand gripping the sheets as the pleasure built inside you, threatening to overwhelm you.

He chuckled darkly, his hips slamming into yours with brutal precision, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. “That’s right,” he muttered, his voice low and dangerous. “You know exactly what you’re doing, don’t you? Dancing around in those little shorts, teasing me like a fucking schoolgirl.”

He bit your lip, not enough to hurt but enough to make you gasp, the sharp pleasure mixing with the overwhelming sensation of his cock filling you completely. “You think you can play with me?” he whispered, his breath hot and rough against your skin. “You’re mine.”

Eli’s hand moved to grip your jaw, tilting your head so you had no choice but to look up at him, his dark, hazel eyes gleaming with possessive hunger. “Say it,” he ordered, his voice filled with the kind of arrogance that made your pulse quicken. “Tell me you’re mine.”

You shuddered beneath him, your body trembling with pleasure as he continued to pound into you, each thrust sending you closer to the edge. “I’m yours,” you gasped, your voice breathless, barely able to form the words as the tension in your core built to a fever pitch. “I’m always yours, Eli...”

He growled in satisfaction, his hand tightening on your jaw as his hips moved faster, harder, his breath coming in rough, ragged gasps. “That’s right,” he muttered, his voice thick with lust. “You’re mine... and I’m not letting you go. Not ever.”

You moaned, your body arching against him as the pleasure became too much to bear. His cock filled you so perfectly, hitting that spot inside you with every thrust, his arrogant words driving you wild with need. “Eli, please,” you whimpered, your voice trembling as the tension coiled tight inside you, ready to snap. “I’m so close...”

Eli didn't let you come yet, though your body was trembling, aching for release. Instead, with a dark chuckle, he released your wrist and gripped your thighs, pulling them up toward your chest until your knees were practically touching your head. The shift in position sent a sharp jolt of pleasure through you, but the frustration of being denied pushed your arousal to a near unbearable peak.

"You’re not getting off that easy," Eli muttered, his baritone voice low and commanding, his breath hot against your ear. He rocked his hips against yours, thrusting faster and harder, the bed shaking beneath you with the force of it. The headboard slammed repeatedly into the wall, the sound echoing through the room, but neither of you cared. Your moans mixed with the steady rhythm of his deep, guttural groans as he lost himself in the pleasure of controlling you completely.

Your body was on fire, every nerve alight with need as Eli continued to pound into you, his hands gripping your thighs tightly, holding you in place as he took exactly what he wanted. You could feel the slickness of your arousal coating his cock, making it easier for him to slide in and out of you with each brutal thrust. Your breath came in short, ragged gasps, your fingers clutching at the sheets, desperate for something to hold onto as the pressure built inside you, threatening to spill over at any moment.

"Please, Eli," you whimpered, your voice trembling as you tried to meet his thrusts, your hips moving in rhythm with his. "I need to come... please..."

But Eli wasn’t ready to let you have what you wanted. His smirk deepened, and he leaned down to bite the curve of your shoulder, hard enough to leave a mark. "You’ll come when I say you can," he growled against your skin, his voice dripping with arrogance. "You don’t get to decide, I do."

He thrust harder, the angle making you see stars as he hit that perfect spot inside you over and over again, the tension building and building until you thought you might scream. Your body trembled beneath him, completely at his mercy, the need for release so overwhelming it was almost painful. You could barely think, your mind clouded with lust, with the raw, animalistic pleasure of having Eli take you like this—so rough, so dominant.

But just as you felt yourself teetering on the edge, Eli’s cock slipped out of you, the sudden loss of him leaving you gasping in shock and frustration. The slickness of your arousal had made it too easy for him to slide out, and now you were left trembling, your body throbbing with unfulfilled need.

"Fuck," Eli muttered, his brow furrowed in annoyance as he realized what had happened. He glanced down between your legs, his cock hard and glistening with your wetness, twitching with the need to bury itself back inside you. His hazel eyes darkened with frustration, but there was a flicker of amusement in them as well, as if he was enjoying the fact that he could keep you on the edge for just a little longer.

"Looks like you’ll have to wait a little longer, sweetheart," he said with a dark, mocking smile, his hands gripping your thighs even tighter as he positioned himself to enter you again. "You didn’t think it’d be that easy, did you?"

You let out a frustrated whimper, your hips bucking up toward him, desperate to feel him inside you again. "Eli, please..." you gasped, your voice trembling with need. "I need it... I need you..."

Eli chuckled, clearly savoring your desperation. He pressed the head of his cock against your entrance, teasing you with slow, deliberate movements, but not giving you what you wanted just yet. "Beg me," he murmured, his voice low and commanding. "I want to hear you beg for it."

Your body was shaking, the need for release so overwhelming it was almost unbearable. "Please, Eli," you whimpered, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps as your hips bucked toward him, seeking out the relief only he could give you. "Please fuck me... I need it... I need to come... please..."

Eli’s smirk deepened, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction at your pleas. "That’s more like it," he growled, and without another word, he thrust back inside you, filling you completely with one hard, brutal stroke.

Eli groaned in satisfaction as he began moving inside you again, his hands releasing your thighs to take hold of your breast, his mouth descending onto it with a hunger that sent a jolt of pleasure straight to your core. His tongue flicked over your nipple, sucking hard, and the combined sensations of his cock filling you so perfectly and the relentless attention to your breasts sent you spiraling toward an orgasm you couldn’t hold back.

Your body arched off the bed, your back curving as the pleasure overwhelmed you, a scream tearing from your throat. "Eli!" you gasped, your fingers clutching at his shoulders as the orgasm hit you hard, wave after wave of pleasure crashing over you. You had no control, no ability to stop it, and before you even realized what was happening, you were coming hard, your body trembling beneath him as your release gushed out of you.

Eli froze for a moment, pulling back to watch in fascination as your body reacted, his hazel eyes widening slightly as he saw the way you squirted, your release soaking the sheets beneath you. His gaze was intense, filled with a mix of surprise and arrogant satisfaction. "Well, well," he muttered, his voice low and thick with lust as he watched the way your body trembled, your legs shaking as you came apart in front of him. "I didn’t know you had that in you."

You gasped for breath, your chest heaving as you struggled to come down from the overwhelming pleasure, your body still twitching with aftershocks. But Eli wasn’t done. He pulled out of you slowly, watching every movement, his cock glistening with your release. His gaze darkened as he looked at the mess you had made, a slow, arrogant smirk curling at the corner of his lips.

"You’re perfect," he muttered, his voice dripping with condescension as he ran his fingers through your slickness, bringing them to his lips to taste you. "Absolutely fucking perfect... for me."

His words sent another shiver down your spine, but Eli was too wrapped up in his own superiority to care about how wrecked you were. He leaned over you, his face close to yours, his breath hot against your lips as he whispered, "You think anyone else could make you do that? No one could. You’re mine. My perfect little slut, squirting all over me like that."

He pressed his mouth to yours in a rough, possessive kiss, his hand sliding down your body to toy with your overstimulated clit. You gasped into his mouth, your body jerking in response to the sudden sensation, but he held you in place, his fingers moving with slow, deliberate precision. "You don’t come without my permission, understand?" he growled against your lips, his eyes gleaming with that arrogant dominance you had come to crave.

You nodded quickly, your body still trembling from the intensity of your release, but Eli wasn’t about to let you off easy. He pulled back slightly, his eyes raking over you with a possessive hunger that made your pulse quicken. "You belong to me," he muttered, his voice thick with desire. "Every inch of you... this perfect body... it’s mine."

His fingers pressed harder against your clit, sending another jolt of pleasure through your already trembling body. "Say it," he ordered, his voice low and commanding. "Tell me you belong to me."

"I... I belong to you," you gasped, your voice trembling with need as the pleasure built again, despite the overwhelming sensitivity. "I’m yours, Eli... only yours."

He smirked, clearly satisfied with your response. "Good girl," he muttered, his fingers finally pulling away from your clit, leaving you breathless and shaking beneath him. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to your lips, slow and possessive, as if claiming you all over again.

As he pulled back, he looked down at you with that same arrogant smirk, his hazel eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "You’re everything I deserve," he said, his voice full of superiority. "The perfect woman for a Nobel Prize winner."

[n01r-kn1ght]

I’m no expert at writing but came across an old and abandoned draft of a not official continuation of the The Party Incident and Other Embarrassing Anecdotes so I thought I’d share it

Lovingly titled:

The Sleepover Incident

a fanfic of a fanfic

Tonight was the night, you spent a good half of your day prepping your living room to sleepover perfection. When was the last time you had hosted a sleepover let alone been to one? The last one you can recall was around middle school, just before high school, with a couple of your classmates. You were giddy, though you know that movie nights weren't uncommon for you and your friends but a sleepover is a whole different ballpark. The coffee table in the living room was pushed to the side, making way for the ultimate blanket fort. The fort's main structure was made up of the couch and armchairs with your wooden easel as additional structure. The inside of the fort was the fluffiest rug you had as the base, a couple of blankets and meticulously placed pillows. As the cherry on top, you had strung up some fairy lights leftover from last Christmas which gave the fort a warm cozy glow. Smiling and nodding to yourself as you admire your handiwork.

Glancing at the clock, you had a few minutes to spare before someone arrived. Taking the opportunity to finish setting up the snacks and whipping up your infamous cracker dip. It was a recipe passed down from your favorite uncle, a simple dip with Mayo, capers, dill and walnut. Nutty, salty and dilly? What more could a girl want, if you could you'd eat it by the spoonful but then you'd get judging glances from the others. Paps especially, exclaiming "NOT ANOTHER CONDIMENT CONSUMER, YOU AND MY BROTHER COULDN'T BE MORE PERFECT FOR EACH OTHER". After setting up the snack station on the coffee table you heard the sound of familiar footsteps approaching your door, glancing at the clock the door knocked right on time. Making your way to the door, the usual scenario play out.

"knock knock".

"Who's there?" Wondering what new knock knock joke he's whipping out from the seemingly endless supply of jokes he had.

"nobel".

"Nobel who?" You asked as you opened the door.

"nobel, so I knocked", sans shrugged with that playful grin on his face, Papyrus groaned behind him. The two were dressed comfortably, Papyrus in his pjs with rubber duckies on them and Sans in a black tee and a pair of sweatpants.

You rolled your eyes playfully, a smirk forming on your face "Very funny", stepping aside to let the two skeletons in. The two walked in, with Papyrus making a beeline for your cat who was curiously poking its head out to see what all the fuss was  about.

"it's not no-bell prize worthy, but if you like it then it's good enough", giving you a nuzzle on the cheek.

A bit of warmth crept on your face "That would have been really cute if it wasn't for that pun".

Papyrus walked over with you cat comfortably curled in his arms "AGREED, YOUR ROMANTIC GESTURES ARE SOURED BY YOUR CONSTANT NEED FOR PUNS BROTHER", he huffed.

The three of you moved over to the living room, you looked at the brothers with anticipation, waiting to see their reaction to the blanket fort. Papyrus's reaction was immediate, an excited noise escaped his teeth as he gently placed the cat and bags he had been carrying down to admire your work.

"WOWIEE HUMAN, YOUR BLANKET FORT HAS EXCEED MY ALREADY HIGH EXPECTATIONS!" He exclaimed, crawling in only to be delighted even more so that he could comfortably sit without having his skull bumping into the blanket ceiling "I DON'T EVEN HAVE TO SLOUCH TO FIT IN", you felt a bit of pride.

"heh, trying to one up my fort?" Sans asked keeping his eyelights on the fort.

"Me? Trying to one up you? Please, that's a blanket statement". Papyrus poked his head out with a look of betrayal as you punned.

Sans smile grew "if you say so, I'll try not to get too wrapped up with it". With that, the taller skeleton got up and grabbed his bag to set up the food he brought on the coffee table, leaving the two punners behind.

"but in all honesty, it's a great fort, puts mine under the covers", Sans stated nodding in approval.

Your smiled softened "Come on yours was great too, especially since you made it on the fly. I had hours to perfect this, do you know how many times it collapsed on me? Be glad that I'm not an architect".

"i'd say the results would be pretty concrete, wouldn't want you to crack under pressure", you move your arm to punch his shoulder but as usual he dodged it effortlessly.

As he dodged your futile punch, you noticed the small bag he was carrying on left "it's the movies me and paps picked out" he answered the question forming in your head, he sat down in the blanket fort setting his bag aside.

"Oh? And may i know what these movies are? Well I mainly wanna know yours, I'm guessing Paps picked an adventure film or a family film", you say, sitting down next to him, your knee touching his knee cap.

"right on the money with paps", he leans back on a pillow, propping himself up with both arms behind his skull "and i ain't telling ya, these metaphorical lips are sealed".

Joining him, leaned your head against him "Oh come on, at least tell me what genre it is. Is it a comedy or one of those movies that are so bad their good".

"gonna have to get that information from my cold dead hands".

"Really now?" you lean over to face him, your hands resting on each of his sides "Wonder if i could tickle your funny bone to get that info out of you".

"do your worst, nothin gets under my skin", he said cooly.

Just for that pun, you attacked with a barrage of tickles. Fingers tickling in spots you'd typically be most sensitive to, but to your dismay his face gave no reaction except for that ever growing smug grin.

"told ya", he said before sitting up and pushing you down, effectively switching positions.

He was on top of you with his phalanges intertwined with your fingers, keeping you pinned down. His face, mere inches away from yours and his face was shadowed with only the warm lights of the fairy light illuminating the edges of his skull. His eyelights were soft and dilated, the only sound you could hear was your ever increasing breath and the sound of your soul stuttering.

Thump Thump

Your cheeks grew warmer, as he slowly made to move in closer to your face. A kiss? You closed your eyes, happily accepting a kiss. For a moment, nothing happened then you felt his phalanges leave and move to your sides. When suddenly you felt a sharp tickling sensation of bony phalanges dance across your skin under your shirt. Your eyes shot open as your burst out laughing, you move your hands to push away his but he deceptively had a strong hold of you.

"S-Sans!" you barely spat out between laughing fits, snorting in a breath "That's cheating!" he moved from your sides tickling your armpit and neck.

"what? this ain't tickling your fancy?"

"No!" you spat, feeling the tears streaming down your face "Make it stop" you pleaded.

"alright, say uncle", he briefly stopped to let that sink in.

...

You blinked, taking the opportunity to catch your breath "Are... Are you serious...?"

...

He stared at you for a moment before resuming his attack in response. A snort got caught in your throat as you sharply inhaled the air. You can feel your cheeks starting to ache from the smiling and your stomach cramping from laughing fits.

You were even getting a little lightheaded "U-uncle!" you surrendered. He quickly retracted his phalanges from your ticklish spots. You panted, taking a moment to calm down and catch your breath.

Once calmed down, you sat up face to face with him, pouting "You're the worst, catching me off guard like that".

"hey pal, just dishing back what you were serving", he chuckles.

"Ugh, to think you faked out a smooch. Unbelievable", crossing your arms.

His cheekbones dusted with a light blue, he cupped your face in his hands "if you wanted to smooch you could have just asked", he said warmly.

Thump thump

The warmth crept back in "Please", you softly said, you're lips feeling tender and tingly.

"well, since you asked so nicely", he pulls you in, his teeth nuzzling against your lips. Small warm tingles peppered your lips, you reciprocated with applying back your own pressure from your lips. You felt warm, loved and safe with him.

The two of you pull back, you're face glowing with red and warmth and Sans literally glowing. The two of you looked at each other longingly, fingers and phalanges intertwined. The quiet tender moment was interrupted with a small squeal of delight. Looking out the entrance of the blanket fort, you see Papyrus crouching down with his hands cupping his jaw. Realising the two of you noticed him, he cleared his throat and quickly left with your cat to give you space. You shook your head, chuckling softly.

[lucisfavoritedemon]

Through The Portal: Chapter 3

Series Masterlist

Chapter Summary: Stan finally learns what really happened to Y/n back in 1973. Stan realizes the sweet girl he once knew isn’t as bubbly as she used to be, but is determined to bring her back however he can.

Pairing(s): Stan x reader (platonic present, romantic past), Ford x platonic!reader, Dipper x best friend!reader, Mabel x best friend!reader Bill x reader

Warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of hopelessness, mental manipulation, unrequited love, flashbacks.

A/N: The events and ideas are based on a theory I have about the Nightmare Realm. This is in no way canonically true, just my theories based on what we canonically know about the Nightmare Realm.

“Wait, New Jersey?” Mabel and Dipper questioned simultaneously.

I nodded as Stan gave me a look of, ‘don't tell them just yet’. I guess in a way Stan was right, I probably shouldn’t tell them about the fact I technically am 61 years old. So I decided to tell them a little white lie.

“Yeah, I grew up in New Jersey. Just like Stan and Ford did.”

“So, how did you end up here? Did you work with Ford?” Mabel asked curiously.

“Don’t be silly Mabel, she’s not old enough to have worked with Ford on the portal.” Dipper interjected.

“Then you must be his daughter!” Mabel beamed.

“No! I-I’m not Ford’s daughter.” I quickly tried to correct her.”

“Then are you Stan’s daughter?” Mabel questioned.

“No, I have no relation to them at all. It’s a long story that I’m not ready to share just yet.”

“But, you do know Stan. You said that you were sorry you left. So, what happened?” Dipper asked, ready to write it down on a notepad as if he was interviewing me.

Stan walked up behind the two kids before I had the chance to protest, “why don’t you two go wreak havoc or whatever somewhere else. I need to speak with Y/n.”

Mabel and Dipper groaned, but didn’t protest as Stan shoved them out of the gift shop. Stan walked back over to the chair he was sitting in. He gave a questioning look before he finally spoke up, “so, now that the kids are gone, tell me what you meant by you didn’t mean to walk through that stupid portal.”

I take a deep breath before speaking, “look, Stan, it was an accident. I was just doing some test runs on the mechanics. I was not prepared for it to start up and suck me in. I spent years trying to get back to you. I knew you’d be upset with me…I didn’t want to leave…” I answered.

“Then why were you building it in the first place!?” Stan was agitated.

“I…I wanted to win a Nobel prize or a huge patent so you and I could get out of that town. I wanted to give you the one thing you always talked about…to sail around the world on the adventure of a lifetime.

“I-I know I’m not the person you wanted to do that with…but I wanted to make you feel like you finally had someone who cared about you. I did care about you, more than you knew Stan.” I finally confessed.

Stan couldn’t even think of what to say. All these years he had blamed me for leaving him alone in the world again, but he didn’t know I had planned it out thoroughly. He felt like a jerk for judging me without knowing my true plan.

“Y-you were doing it…for me?”

I nodded, “I knew that either you could use the money to sail around the world, or bring the fortune to your family and make up for your mistake. Either way, I didn’t want the money or the fame, I was doing it because I thought it would make you happy.”

“And now I’m the jerk for blaming you after all these years…and I never really asked why you were doing it.”

I smile softly at hsi response. It wasn’t completely wrong. I wanted Stan to be able to rid himself of his guilt and move past his mistake. I had also been tricked into doing so, but I wasn’t ready to confess to him that if I had succeeded that he never would have gotten what I wanted him to get out of it.

“I think I was more upset that I lost the girl I was crushing on more than anything…” Stan confessed, rubbing the back of his neck.

“W-wait…y-you were crushing on me?” I was taken aback by his confession. I knew Stan liked me, but I never imagined he thought of me in that light.

He just nods, “that seems like a lifetime ago though. I’m different now than I used to be.”

“You and me both…” I look down at the floor knowing I probably opened a huge can of worms that I won’t be able to stick back in.

“I could tell. Whatever you saw in there, whatever you went through, must have been rough for you.”

“You have no idea.”

I floated in a daze. This place had no gravity, no sense of time, it was utter chaos.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t dear ol’ sweet Y/n. What brings you here sweetheart?” Bill’s voice seemed to boom as it had really nothing to bounce off of.

“B-Bill? Where am I?”

“You’re in my dimension. Too bad your invention failed because if it hadn’t this would be released upon your dimension, and you and I could rule over everything! I could just imagine it.”

“Y-your dimension? This is where you live?” I was horrified at what I saw.

Bill was surrounded by strange and weird beings of chaos. I couldn’t believe I had been tricked. Had I truly succeeded, it would have meant the end of the world as I knew it, everyone I cared about would have been put in danger, and It would have been all my fault.

Bill starts to laugh his demented laugh, “yes! Welcome to the Nightmare Realm! A place where chaos reigns! Too bad you failed med, I could have used a partner in crime to help create chaos with me.”

“You tricked me! I trusted you!”

“If I told you my true plans you would have backed out of it. I had no choice, sweetheart.”

“Stop calling me that! I’m not your sweetheart anymore, Cipher! You tricked me, and almost made me destroy my world!”“Not my sweetheart anymore huh?” He looked like he was starting to get angry.

I knew I needed to get away. I started to float away from him as he called his henchmaniacs to catch me. I floated towards an asteroid field and was able to avoid getting caught. I slipped into the hole looking for sanctuary. That’s when I realized I wasn't alone.

After Stan and I talked things out, I needed to find something mindless to get my mind off of everything. I decided to try and get to know the young Pines twins better. They were both sitting in the living room watching TV.

“Hey kids.” I say softly, announcing my presence.

“Y/n!” They both exclaimed excitedly.

“I thought Stan was going to tell you to stay away from us or something?” Mabel blurted out.

I giggle softly, “no, Stan doesn’t mind me trying to get to know the two of you. Just, no questions about where I came from or about the portal, okay?”

“Ah, come on, just one question each, please?” Mabel begged.

“I’m sorry, but I’d rather not talk about what I’ve seen or been through. Not to mention, Stan and Ford both think it’s best you two stay away from that subject.”

“One question each, and then no more after that, please Y/n?” Mabel begged harder, flashing the biggest puppy dog eyes I’ve ever seen.

I sigh and give in, “okay, okay. One question each, but if I think it is too personal, I have the right to refuse to answer it.”

“Deal!” Dipper and Mabel exclaim enthusiastically.

“I’ll go first, how do you know Stan?” Mabel blurted out.

“Stan and I were friends at one point,” I see Mabel go to say something, but I stop her, “no Mabel, you cannot follow up with a question. The truth I’m sure will be revealed in due time.”

“Okay, can I ask how you knew I was going to ask that?” Mabel questioned.

“That’s an appropriate question and allows you to get to know me, so yes, that’s okay. I am a very perceptive person, I can read a person by just looking into their eyes.”

“That’s so awesome!”

“Okay, Dipper, which one of your billion questions are you gonna ask me? I can tell you’re the curious one.”

Dipper smiles and flips through his notepad, “where were you before you came out of that portal?”

I had to think about how to answer that without revealing too much. Luckily it was a fairly broad question, so I felt like I could answer this without revealing too much about myself, “I was in a place that I wish no one else to see, not even my mortal enemies.”

“Yeesh, that sounds horrible. You seem so…optimistic, how did you maintain that?”

“Is that too much of a revealing question!?” Mabel yelled as I went to answer.

“No, again it helps you two better understand who I am and how I function in difficult situations. Well, to be straight to the point and sort of sappy, the thought of returning home kept me optimistic. I’ve always been that way I guess, so maintaining that mindset was fairly easy considering the strain I was under.”

The kids continued to go back and forth on questions to get to know me as a person, the person I was before I went into the portal. The person I hoped was still in there somehow. In turn, they told me more about themselves, and I felt like I was really starting to bond with them.

“So, did you go to college?”

I shake my head, “as egotistical as it sounds, I felt like I was too good for college, like there was nothing it was going to teach me that I didn’t already know, you know? So, rather than spending thousands of dollars on education I felt was futile, I spent time doing what I loved, and looking for grants in other ways.”

“That’s possible?” Dipper questined, intrigued.

“Uh…sure. I definitely think you should pursue higher education. Don’t end up like me.”

Mabel went to ask another question when someone behind us cleared their throat. I turned to see who it was. Ford stood there and gestured for me to come with him. I nodded and stood up, “sorry kids, we can finish this later. It’s been really good talking to you two.”

The kids waved as Ford and I walked back into the gift shop and down to the basement. He didn’t say anything the entire walk down, and I was getting concerned. “Did I say something too revealing to the kids?”

Ford shakes his head, “no, I know you would try to protect them as much as Stan or I would. No, this is something much more serious. I found this while dismantling the portal.” Ford shows me a base and globe containing colorful glowing matter.

“I-is that what I think it is?”

Ford nods, “an interdimensional rift. I contained it, but I’m afraid that Bill may know about this…and will do anything to get his hands on it. I think this may also be the cause of your vivid dreams.”

My eyes widened, “you think that Bill might be heightening my connection to him and tormenting me into possibly making a deal so he can possess me to break the rift?”

Ford chuckles lightly, “it’s like you took the words right out of my mouth. I always forget how perceptive you are. Unfortunately, because of the connection Bill has with you already, encrypting your thoughts is going to be a difficult task to undertake.”

I take a deep breath, “I want to erase my memories then.”

[multiheadcanons]

REQUEST: BURNWARD— KEEP TEUFORT WEIRD

yapper x yapper and nobody is actually listening. literally keep them away from the library. they cannot go lower than a 7 separately, volume wise.

they’re talking at each other and responding every once in a while with “oh for sure” to confirm to the other that at least the words are hitting their ears and being registered in some sense in the brain

it is always a Confirmed Time with these two in the same room. what kind of time? who knows! party time! tea time! game time! arson/murder time! grave robbing time! looting time! fuck it! they’re happy together and that’s all that matters to them! these two have never had a bad time together!

the sweetest part about these two is that they’re both undeniably, unarguably, irrefutably Odd, in some of the worst ways imaginable. they will skip into battle; and medic is very generous with his praise for pyro on the field. it bothers the other team that they will be massacred, and the last words they’re hearing is “what are we thinking for lunch? i hear there’s a new restaurant open—” it is very much behind every evil gay person is a more evil gayer person. and together, tact is dead. they are fully confessing to crimes in the middle of the restaurant. how an officer of the law just never seems to be within 50 feet of these two to hear some of the things leaving their mouths is astounding.

i think that pyro and the doctor are foils of each other. and i mean foil like in the old, outdated jeweler term where you back the gem in a ring with foil to make it shine brighter. these are two oddballs whose unabashed fascination of each other seems to make the other shine with the glow of normality. they don’t think about the other’s extensive legal rap sheets and open cases, or the blood often actively dripping from their hands, because to each other, they are the epitome of Normal. they want to be each other when they grow up. whether they’re chatting on the operating table, rushing into battle, sitting next to each other in their downtime, they just bask in the feeling of normality they give each other.

this has never been a thing i’ve ever actually considered with the mercs but i also have never thought about these two together as much as i currently have and in a modern au they are a firefighter/paramedic duo. generally found slumped over each other asleep on the base if they aren’t speeding through the streets. they find the chaotic structure just what they need for themselves, and when they met they clicked in a way nobody expected them to! i feel like the red medic would definitely want to be a paramedic more than he would want to be in the hospital doing active surgeries. he likes to get his hands dirtier than any hospital would allow him to. but active trauma cases are wonderful ways to try some… different techniques. he can’t stand the paperwork either way. and pyro became a firefighter because their social worker told them to maybe channel their… elemental affinity into something that could be good not just for themselves, but for society as well. she needs a raise and a nobel peace prize, because she created a prolific firefighter. pyro can assess a fire and figure out exactly where they can enter and exit and how much time they have to get in and out. everyone says thanks miss pauling.

they like to look at each other! for their own separate reasons. but neither one of them can help it. if the doctor is rambling, pyro is staring. probably with a hidden smile on their face. it’s just so cute to watch the doctor light up as he’s talking about all his different experiments and what he has on his books for future dates. and the doctor stares at pyro like they’re the chocolate factory and he just won the last golden ticket. he can’t help but wonder what’s under the mask. if there is anything under the mask at all.

it’s a tense, nerve wracking moment when pyro does decide to take off the mask for medic. pyro didn’t give any warnings, nor did they really know why they felt a need to do this. they just walked into the infirmary for a physical with it off, but still clenched in their fist, in case the result was unfavorable. it shocked the doctor, at least momentarily. he didn’t know what he expected under the mask. and truthfully, he didn’t even know it was pyro. he thought maybe they were getting a new class. it wasn’t until pyro actually spoke up (so strange to hear unmuffled) “doc. it’s me. pyro.” that medic put two and two together. and when he did, he was… marginally flustered. he felt silly he didn’t recognize someone he called a friend. but the eye contact; the real, genuine eye contact. it was refreshing. they didn’t even get to the physical, they just sat and chatted, for an hour to two. it hit pyro suddenly that they’ve been unmasked for a while. it hit them harder that they were actually quite comfortable this way. they started fiddling with the mask to get it back on, a single gloved hand gently rested on top of theirs.

“this was nice. it was nice to… get to know you like this. we should do it more often!” the smile the doctor offered was gentle, and uncertain. and if it were anyone else, pyro would’ve said no. but for the doctor…

they’ll do anything for him, really.

“yeah… yeah! yeah, we should!”

[unnaturalequilibrium]

Capítulo 7

- Mafin rewatch (Sueños de Libertad)

Fina in that green dress - she is beautiful. Damn. She also is Isidro’s daughter through and through, she too seem to have that way of getting people to open up, getting them to accept her advice and comfort. She is soft and reassuring as Claudia spills her mistakes with Tasio. And Fina’s hug looks so nice. I’m pretty sure this is what “everyone needs a bosom for a pillow” means and I agree, they do. To get lost in her embrace looks like it could solve a great many personal problems and maybe a few societal ones too. I don’t know if it’s the solution to climate change, but if 2025’s Nobel prize winners tell me it is - well I won’t be surprised. I also like that she one hundred percent share my exact opinion of Tasio, he is trash, unredeemable trash and should be avoided like the plague.

Aww, Fina arguing her case that a marriage doesn’t equal happiness and that her father shouldn’t be so quick to wish one upon her. The old man really just wants her to be happy, you can tell though that it’s a conversation that makes her ill at ease because of the way she has to stretch and stitch the truth in her replies. I already know it’s going to hurt a lot when he later on rejects her.

Marta confronting Elena - I know that it won’t officially happen for another hundred plus episodes, but Marta is the boss. The way she just slides into that armchair and takes hold of the entire office with what seems like nothing more than an innate sense of authority and a raised eyebrow - yeah, she exudes in charge. But I enjoy the little exhale at the end as Elena leaves. Like so much of who Marta is at this point this too is a game face. Maybe she carries it with what looks like ease, but it might actually come at a fairly high price, just not one we’re allowed to see yet.

Petra, I’m telling you - back off the Marta insults, or - If I remove myself from the narrative though, I love this. I love how they try to build Marta up as this stick in the mud, firm, cold and distant. Unsmiling, no sense of empathy, all business and with very little sympathy. If I hadn’t know what was to come maybe I’d buy it, maybe I’d laugh along with Petra as she mocks and says that Marta needs to smile more. Because yeah, all we’ve seen of her so far actually fits that vision of the demanding ice queen, except for these brief micro-expressions on Marta’s face when no one is looking, when she doesn’t have time to catch her true reaction. When Damian brings up marriage and children, when Elena turns her back, when Fina confronts her and tells her she demands a lot of respect. For a second you see something else, but only for a second, before it is hidden behind the wall again. So yeah, if I had watched this for the first time I would probably have thought of Marta as a bit of a bitch to approach with extreme caution.

That said, back to the narrative, fuck Petra. Fina is a fucking cinnamon roll and I ache so hard for her as this woman clearly leads her on, only to slam the door in her face and call her disgusting as wine and a win makes Fina bold enough to go for a kiss. And invertida is never a slur I’ve had to personally experience, but the way it is delivered and the way it lands makes it feel like I share its burden too. It’s a slap in the face and I wish I could reach through the computer screen and return it, with interest.

Marta’s relationship with her dad, ugh. She talks to him about being happy with being more involved in the company, getting a shot at running the business alongside her brothers. And what does Damian do? He turns the table on her and brings the conversation back to her marriage, talking about how it isn’t what he wanted for her. Granted it’s nice of him to want more than the isolation her current marriage gives her, but it’s also another dagger in Marta’s side, isn’t it? Whatever she does, or achieves, with her dad it always boils back down into her marriage, her role as a wife and the failure of it all. That shit really has to feel like someone ripping out the feathers of her wings every time she tries to take flight. It’s a nice parallel though of both Isidro and Damian wishing happiness and partnership for their daughters. I’m looking forward to when this will come full circle in 170 episodes and they discuss how their daughters have found just that, in each other.

[happy74827]

Loosing Control

[Gideon Graves x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Your love is a thing of magic. It's strong and apparently real and Gideon doesn't quite know how to deal with it.

WC: 2489

Category: Slight Lime/Spice {Gideon’s POV}

I’m actually surprised that so many people love my Gideon fics. The AMOUNT of anons I’ve suddenly started to receive this past week just because of this man is astronomical and I’m totally here for it!! (Also this gif got me feeling all types of things 🫣)

『••✎••』

Gideon Graves was at a loss for words. He didn't know what he had expected from this meeting, but it certainly wasn't this. He wasn't exactly in a position to be calling anyone out on the carpet, so to speak, but it had been at least an hour since you had burst into the office—pounding on the door, demanding to be let in—and Gideon had done nothing to stop you. Instead, he sat on his sofa, staring at you in silence. He'd already known you would be upset. He didn't need you to tell him that.

"Look," he said.

Gideon Graves was a genius. He knew that. His ability to multitask and think fast on his feet had gotten him far in his career and had garnered him numerous accolades and awards, from the Pulitzer to the Nobel Prize. And yet he hadn't expected you.

He wasn't sure what he had expected. You had been his assistant for nearly five years now. Gideon had made it clear from the beginning that he was not interested in anything more than a professional relationship between the two of you, but that didn't mean he hadn't thought about it. There was just something about you. The way your mouth moved when you were speaking. The way you stood so close to him in the mornings that he could smell the soap on your skin and the coffee on your breath.

"Just give me a minute," he said.

You blinked at him. "What?"

Gideon stood up and paced the room, adjusting his glasses and running his hands through his hair.

"There are so many things I want to say, but they all seem like the wrong things," he said. "I've never really been good with words."

You pressed your hand to your lips, shaking your head. "No, no, I get it. It's my fault. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come here like this."

"You're not making this any easier for me, you know."

"No, I—I know." You drew your hand away, and your face flushed. You sat on the edge of the sofa, pulling your knees to your chest. "You don't have to make excuses for me or anything. I know I just barged in here."

"You always do that," Gideon said. He leaned his hip against the edge of his desk, resting his weight on his elbow. "You've been my assistant for five years now and you never knock."

You smiled. "You told me not to. You said I was always allowed to come into your office without knocking."

Gideon shrugged. He had been trying to get you out of his hair, to be completely honest. You had been such a nuisance—so nosy and needy and persistent—and yet he found himself drawn to you. He never meant for things to go this far. He was a lot of things, but unprofessional was not one of them.

He wasn't sure why you had come here. What you had possibly thought you were going to accomplish. Gideon Graves did not feel. Not in the way other people did. He could love, sure, but it wasn't in the traditional way. He could want and need and desire. But he wasn't capable of love. He hadn't loved his mother. He hadn't loved his father, though he had always been fond of the man.

Gideon had not loved you. Not at first. In fact, you had been an irritation, a nuisance. And yet, as time went on and you had learned to read him better, to anticipate his needs and desires, your presence became comforting. He liked being with you. He enjoyed listening to your voice, the way you laughed and smiled, and how you always looked so pleased with yourself, no matter how small the task you had completed.

"You have to understand," he said, "I'm not..."

Gideon searched your eyes. You were beautiful, he realized. You were soft and warm and kind, and he had never really thought of you as anything more than an assistant, but there was something about you now, something that made you look different. He couldn't quite explain it.

You were staring at him, your gaze fixed on his face.

Gideon cleared his throat. "You need to know what you're getting yourself into before we go any further."

Your brows drew together. "What do you mean?"

"I'm a broken man," he said, holding his hand in front of his face. He ran his fingers through his hair, tugging at the ends. "I can't promise you anything; I'm not... I’m not good at this sort of thing. You have to know that."

You tilted your head to one side, studying his face. He could see the worry in your expression. Gideon had seen that look before so many times. His father had given him that same look when Gideon had first told him he wanted to go to college. His mother had given him that same look when he had decided to move to Toronto alone. Even his own reflection in the mirror had looked at him with that same worried expression when Ramona had left him.

You looked at him as though you were afraid of him, but you didn't speak. You just looked at him, waiting.

"I don't know what I'm doing," he said, "and I can't promise that this will end up working out. It never has before, and it probably won't this time, either."

"Is this about Ramona?" you asked, your voice soft. "Is that what this is about?"

"No," Gideon said quickly. "That's in the past. That was... I was young and foolish."

"You weren't young," you said with a laugh. "I was literally there when you made the whole league thing. Then you got your ass—no offense—kicked by Pilgrim and that girl with the beautiful scarf.”

Gideon had never talked to anyone about that moment. He didn't talk about his failures, at least not when they were that severe. Even he had to admit that getting his ass kicked had been a bit of an embarrassing moment for him.

"Yeah, let’s not talk about that,"

You laughed again. "You know what this sounds like to me? It sounds like you're trying to talk me out of being with you."

"Well..." Gideon frowned, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "I guess that's true."

Your expression softened. "That's because you think it's not going to work out, isn't it? Better not to try than fail, right?"

Gideon didn't speak.

You moved across the room, crossing the floor until you were standing in front of him. You placed your hands on his chest, sliding them up the sides of his neck and cradling his face in your hands. You were looking at him, searching his eyes.

"I know it's hard for you to trust people," you said, "but I've been by your side for five years, and you don’t need to use a chip for assurance that this will work."

“Wait a minute, hold on—”

You leaned into him, kissing his lips. You smiled against his mouth, giggling softly. You were kissing him. You were kissing him. You were actually kissing him, and Gideon didn't know what to do about it.

You pulled away and kissed him again, harder this time. You moved against him, pushing him back so that he fell against the edge of his desk. His heart was pounding in his chest. You had your hands on his shoulders now, pushing his coat from his body.

For once, Gideon didn’t have control, and he wasn't sure how he felt about that. He liked being in charge. It was what he was used to. He knew what he was doing and how to get things done. Yet, here he was, watching his jacket drop to the floor, feeling your hands on his body.

“Do you still think you need that chip of yours?” you asked, pressing your lips to his ear.

Gideon sighed, tilting his head back as you kissed his neck and his jaw. You were undoing his tie now, letting it drop to the floor.

“Listen, I had a perfectly good reason for that chip. Ramona, she was...I had a lot going on with her, and it just made sense at the time, but then—shit—I didn't mean—I didn't—this is—it's really complicated, okay?”

You were kissing him as he spoke. You kissed the corner of his mouth. You kissed his neck and collarbone. Gideon had to remind himself to breathe. He had to remind himself how to move. How to think. How to do anything.

"You really are all over the place," you murmured.

Gideon glanced at you, panting due to the lack of oxygen in his system. His eyes were full of you, the shape of your face, the sound of your voice. The curve of your nose. Your smile. Your lips.

You had your hands on his shoulders, that same soft, pleading look in your eyes. You looked at him as though you wanted something, and it was hard for him to deny you, but it wasn't that simple. It never was.

"I can't promise you anything," he said.

You nodded. "I know."

"I'm not the easiest person to be around. I don't even know how I'm supposed to...to..." He swallowed. "I just don't know how to do this."

You stepped away from him, taking your hands from his shoulders. You seemed to know the right thing to say. You always knew the right thing to say. "Don't worry about that right now."

Gideon turned from you. He needed to get a hold of himself. He couldn't be weak like this. He needed to be in control. He needed to focus.

"I need to get back to work," he said, rubbing his eyes with his hand. "We've been away for too long."

You stared at him for a moment. You seemed to be waiting for him to change his mind, but he didn't. He knew he needed to focus. He needed to do what he had always done. He needed to bury himself in work until it was all that consumed him, and there was nothing else to do but sleep and breathe.

"Okay," you said. “Okay, Gideon.”

He didn't look at you as you turned to go. You hadn't even given him a chance to ask you to stay. He couldn't look at you right now, so he didn't turn around as he heard you open the door, close it behind you, and leave.

You hadn't left him mentally, though. Not yet. He could still smell your perfume in the air. He could still see the shape of your body in the chair in front of his desk. He could hear the way you sighed, the way your voice had been soft when you had said his name.

Gideon needed to get back to work, but all he could think about was you. He didn't even know how he had managed to convince himself that it was a good idea to push you away. He did the opposite with Ramona, forcing her into his life until she was a part of him.

So why was it when you had actually wanted him, he had pushed you away?

It had never happened with anyone else, not like this.

Gideon reached up to his neck, touching the skin where your lips had been. It had only been a kiss, a simple touch, but he couldn't remember the last time someone had made him feel like this. You were so soft and kind and... beautiful.

He reached down for his fallen coat that you had tossed to the ground. He lifted it, carrying it to the back of the sofa. He picked up his tie, too, and placed it into the pocket of the jacket, folding it neatly.

There was so much he didn't understand about himself. There was so much he didn't know and would likely never know, but he knew how he felt about you. He could admit that to himself, at least, even if he couldn't admit it to you. Not yet.

“Idiot… Idiot.” Gideon groaned, burying his face in his hands. He sat down on the edge of the couch, falling onto his back. He stared up at the ceiling, his mind drifting back to you.

When Scott Pilgrim had won that battle against him, Gideon was left to wake up and realize that there was a whole world out there that he had no control over. It was a frightening thing for him to come to terms with, but there it was. The world was going on with or without him, and he couldn't change that.

You were there for him, though. You had always been there for him. You had been so soft and kind and gentle. His ego was completely shattered when Scott brought him to his knees, but you had been there for him, comforting him as he recovered emotionally.

And yet, that wasn't all you had done for him. You have helped him in so many ways since you started working with him. You were the perfect assistant—attentive, thorough, and never a bother. He could ask you to fetch anything for him, and you always had.

You also knew when he wanted to be left alone and respected his boundaries. He had to be very careful around people. If you use the wrong words or the wrong tone of voice, everything could fall apart. And it had—it was—with Ramona.

Ramona. It still hurt to think about her, but he could admit that what he felt for you was far different than what he had ever felt for Ramona. What he had felt for Ramona had been a sort of hyperfocus. That was what he told himself anyway. She made him feel things that no one else ever had, but it had never been real. And Gideon knew the difference. Ramona wasn’t love; it was obsession.

You were love. You made him feel so... so human. He didn't want to get into the nitty-gritty details of that, but you made him feel alive. You made him feel real.

Gideon sat up and crossed the room. When he was stressed, or upset, or upset because he was stressed, he found himself pacing. It was one of the few that helped him focus. As he paced, he glanced at the door, staring at the knob as he imagined you coming back through it.

That’s it, he thought. He needed to do something. He needed to go after you to make things right. Make sure that you knew he was serious. Make sure that you know what was at stake here.

Gideon wasn't good with words, but he knew that he would figure out a way. Figuring out ways to fix things had never been a problem for him.

He was the smartest man in the world. How hard could it be?

God, I need to learn how to write actual endings instead of leaving everything open 😭😭

Conclusions are the bane of my existence istg

[soobnny]

drunk in love — seo changbin.

trope. best friends to lovers. college au. mutual pining.

synopsis. getting drunk for the first time with the one person you trust the most doesn’t sound like a bad idea, right? even if you’re madly in love with them?

word count. 2.2k words

warnings. drinking, puking, and just everything that comes with being drunk, curse words

note. been in a changbin mood recently

Everything looks so hazy.

With a shot glass clumsily in hand, you tilt your hand to look around Changbin’s living room in wonder. Everything looks as it has always been, the same pieces of furniture in the same places, and yet it felt totally different.

The walls look a different color, and the television seems to have grown a new pair. How silly to keep two TVs side by side each other.

You giggle at the thought, eyes unfocused as you keep staring at his television with curiosity. Your best friend, currently seated beside you on the couch, carefully grabs the shot glass from your hand to prevent any accidents – taking advantage of the moment where you’re distracted.

A few minutes ago, when he had attempted the same thing, you had gotten upset. Changbin would rather roll down multiple flights of stairs than have you be upset with him again, even if it was unintentional and under the influence of alcohol.

He doesn’t even know what had prompted you to drink in the first place. You had just texted him, completely out of the blue; can we drink tonight lol

And before he could even respond, you were already knocking on his door with a bottle of tequila in hand and a sheepish smile painted on your features. He accepts the offer. For one, he could never say no to you. And secondly, he had no classes tomorrow and he hadn’t drank in a while.

He could use the taste of alcohol to hide behind when it comes to his feelings for you. It’s grown tenfold over the past few weeks, and although he could never trust himself drunk around you (he knows his blabber mouth would confess in one way or another), a few shots wouldn’t hurt.

Plus, he has never drank with you either. To his information, you’ve never drank before either. At all.

Changbin had asked if you wanted to invite any of your friends over, even the guys, but you had asked if it was alright that it was just the two of you for tonight.

It’s because you trust him the most, but you don’t need to tell him that.

If you did, he would’ve exploded. But you didn’t have to know that either.

With the shot glass successfully out of your reach, Changbin doesn’t even try to understand what you’re giggling about. He knows you’re hit, and the wholesome way you’re smiling is too adorable to question. He just lets you stare at his television like it was a Nobel prize winning discovery.

After gawking for a few minutes, you turn your attention to Changbin, scooting so much closer that your knees are pressed together now. Leaning in with a hand covering your mouth, you whisper into his ear.

“Why do you have two TVs?”

Changbin feels like crying at how cute you are.

“I think you might’ve had too much to drink.” You pull away from his face, eyebrows knit as you shake your head in disagreement. You’re too shy to admit you’ve already been hit hours ago.

“I’m dizzy, but I can still understand what’s happening around me. So, I’m just tipsy, right?” You don’t even give him a chance to respond when you start talking about something entirely different, abruptly getting up from your seat to point at the walls.

Changbin follows suit with his hands stretched out in case you fall over.

“When did you get the time to repaint your walls? I liked the old one better.” Eyes blinking rapidly, you step forward a little unsteadily and Changbin has an arm hovering around you in record time. “It changed again just now!”

“Think you’re really drunk, darling.”

“‘M not drunk. Your wall’s being weird.” You brush his statement dismissively, attempting to stumble towards the painted walls to see them up close.

Though, you don’t think your feet want to cooperate with you very much.

Changbin has to pull you to his side before you can trip over your own feet, and you can feel the heat spreading from your neck to your face but you’re unsure if it’s from the alcohol or the close proximity to your best friend.

“Okay. You’re not drunk. I believe you.” His grip tightens around you, and you smile victoriously at the small accomplishment of convincing him you aren’t drunk, even though he knows otherwise.

“Thank you.” You politely respond, bowing unsteadily before looking up at him with your crescent eyes and your crooked grin, and the boy really has to try his best not to get carried away with the overwhelming amount of feelings he has for you.

Especially when you’re looking at him like that.

He fails, of course, hearing his own heartbeat quicken and his palms start to sweat, but at least he tried anyway. In trial of calming himself down, he places his palm on the entirety of your face and pushes you back down to sit on the couch.

Changbin hears nothing but muffled protests from you, but he takes the limited time he has with your eyes peeled to clear his throat and recompose himself before he pulls his hand back.

Get it together, Changbin.

Though, even after having calmed himself, he still finds himself thinking about the way you perfectly fit by his side, like he has always been meant to wrap an arm around your waist.

He wants you so fucking bad, and it really doesn’t help that your cuteness has heightened from the silly lens you’re viewing the world in right now.

Preparing himself for your scolding, he finds that you’ve completely forgotten the way he had manhandled you back on the couch. Instead, you’re gripping at your shirt with your eyebrows twisted, lips pressed in a thin line as if you’re trying to discern the way you’re feeling right now.

“Binnie, I’m a little dizzy now.”

And then you’re getting up again.

“Careful.” He mumbles under his breath, stepping forward. You always trust Changbin to be there before you fall.

Though, ironically, you’ve been falling for a few years now. But you haven’t crashed yet and there’s still time for Changbin to open his arms and catch you if he wanted to.

You can tell he’s tired. You don’t even know what time it is anymore. Everything’s so distorted and it’s all just static to you now. All you know is that you have to get home so Changbin can get his much needed rest.

“Gotta get home now.” You hiccup, body swaying in an alarming way as you try to make a run for his front door.

“Not so fast.” He pulls you back, allowing you to rest most of your weight on him when you stumble back. “You’re sleeping here tonight. Can’t let you go home like this. Hmm? Who’s gonna take care of you?”

“You gonna take care of me?” Your voice has grown incredibly soft now, hands gripping his arms to keep yourself standing.

“Mhm.” He leans forward to brush away the hair falling in front of your face, tucking the loose strands behind your ear so it doesn’t bother you so much.

“Thank you, Binnie. You always take care of me.”

Changbin thinks he’s gonna pass out again because here you are, looking at him again. In some delusional way, it makes him think you feel the same as him, even though he thinks it’s just wishful thinking.

“Stop looking at me like that. Makes it really hard for me.”

“Makes it hard to what?” You’re standing on your tiptoes to try and mirror his height so your face is directly in front of his now, and Changbin has to hold both of your arms to prevent you from falling on top of him completely.

“Not to kiss you.” He mumbles begrudgingly. It’s okay, you won’t remember this tomorrow. He thinks. Or, he hopes.

But if you do, he’s equally hoping you admit you’ve always wanted to kiss him too.

“What’s stopping you?” Another hiccup.

“You’re drunk.” Changbin deadpans, pinching your cheeks, and immediately regretting his decision when a pout sports your lips and your eyebrows knit together in the most adorable way possible.

“I told you ‘m not drunk!” You let your head fall on his shoulder.

Only a few seconds of silence pass before you’re speaking again. Although, your tone’s a little more troubled. “Uh oh. I don’t feel too good.”

You don’t really remember how you got to the bathroom. The only thing you can feel is a hand rubbing your back and another pulling your hair back as you’re hunched over his toilet seat, vomiting out whatever you had for dinner earlier.

Tears prick in your eyes, and then you’re hurling again, coughing out as if it’ll help you feel any better about the circumstance you’re under. You don’t even notice Changbin has left your side until he comes back with a glass of water, making sure you drink all of it after wiping away the corners of your mouth.

“Sorry.” You frown, lips starting to tremble as you stare down at the floor, clearly dejected and ashamed.

Changbin sits down on his bathroom floor next to you, continuing to rub your back like he did earlier. “It’s okay. This kind of thing happens.”

“But it’s gross, and now you’ll never like me. You’ll like someone else who doesn’t vomit in your toilet.” He lets out a breathy laugh at how sad you sound, and you’re starting to feel embarrassed.

“Hey. I like you even when you vomit in my toilet.”

You look up at him with doe eyes, and you suddenly feel so much better. “Promise?”

“I promise.”

“Mkay. Thank you.” You smile stupid to yourself, playing with your fingers and suddenly feeling shy.

Changbin finds the sight endearing, and feels his heart expand in fondness every time you say ‘thank you’ at even the most minuscule thing – when he “believed” you were drunk, when he had let you stay the night, when he told you he still liked you even when you puke.

He snaps out of his thoughts when he catches you yawning.

“You tired? Gonna get you some clothes to change into, okay?”

“What’s wrong with my clothes?”

“Not gonna let you sleep in that. You’ll be uncomfortable.” He pats your head once he’s stood up from having sat on the bathroom floor next to you.

“Oh. You’re right.”

You don’t protest further, humming to yourself as you wait for him to come back.

He returns with some of his spare clothes and a damp face towel. After wiping your face, he allows you to change into your clothes after having convinced him you could do it. He can’t help but laugh when you walk out of his bathroom with his shirt on backwards.

You immediately fall face first on his bed, groaning out at how comfortable his bed was. Changbin smiles fondly at the sight, helping you tuck yourself in comfortably. You blink up at him, patting the space next to you.

“Come to bed now.”

“Gotta change too, okay? Give me a few minutes.”

You whine childishly when he makes his way to his bathroom. “Binnie, where are you?”

“Just a few more minutes.”

“But Binnie! I’m cold. And.. and… what if someone suddenly came in and took me away! It’ll be all your fault.” You try to play with the cards that you’re dealt with, scheming to say anything that could guilt trip Changbin into speeding up in the bathroom so he could be beside you right now.

“Okay, okay. I’m here, I’m done.”

You’re grumpy now, even with his favorite blanket wrapped around you. When he sits down beside you on his bed, you’re scooting away slightly to really sell the part.

“You mad at me?” He whispers, smiling to himself when you nod your head.

“You left me all alone.”

“Just so I’m wearing clean clothes when I cuddle you.”

“You’re gonna cuddle me?” You ask with wide eyes.

“You said you were cold, hm?”

It doesn’t take much after that before you’re wrapped in his arms instead, head resting comfortably on his chest as you sigh out in relief. This feels nice. His arms feel warm and comfortable. It’s warmer than it was when you were just under the covers.

“You still mad?”

“‘M not mad anymore. You’re forgiven.” Changbin grins, threading his fingers through your hair gently to help you sleep quicker. He knows you’re tired, from the way you drawl out your words, and the way you simply collapse into him.

He rests his free arm around you comfortably, just by your hips, and he continues to look down at you attentively in case you jolt awake in need of something. He only completely relaxes when he hears soft snores from you.

Placing a soft kiss on the top of your head, Changbin allows himself to shut his own tired eyes closed. Even though he had been exhausted from the events of the day prior, he finds he’d do it all over again for you if you asked him to.

As for you, you’re not quite sure you want to drink as hard as you did today. One thing you are sure of is you never want to leave, with your head resting just below Changbin’s neck, and his hand running through your hair.

You don’t wanna be anywhere else but with the one person you trust the most.

[theonevoice]

Rumination n. 6 - It was all Jim's fault

Well, not all his fault. He walked right into a 6000yo situation of unspoken "do I... would you... could we...", but I think, since he fills the role of comic relief, we are not fully taking into account his impact on the whole ineffable miscommunication mess.

Because he is not just a plot device, he is a character that pushes Aziraphale and Crowley to act in unplanned ways and - most of all - brings some of their worldview biases and traumas out of their dark corners. And I am increasingly convinced that his presence plays a major role in the final breakup, acting as a catalyst for their millennia-long misalignment of hopes and fears.

Sure, he is there to make us smile and Jon Hamm is a joy to watch (I cannot get to his line in ep 1, when Aziraphale tells him that he can see that he's naked, and he goes "Oh! Well, what do you know? Ahahah!" without burst out laughing, even after countless rewatches), but that humor is mainly for us viewers to detect. From Aziraphale's and Crowley's point of view, he doesn't appear as funny as he does to us. For them, he is a source of worry and danger, and I would argue that he is also an incarnation of different desires. And that's the point.

Let's consider for a moment Aziraphale's perspective. He sees his former boss, "most holy archangel" Gabriel, pop up one day at the bookshop, reduced to the mental capacity of a smart dog, vaguely aware that someone was planning to do "something terrible" to him. It is a terrifying spectacle to behold. It's not just the mere danger of having one of the most powerful entities in the universe, possibly still in posess of all his powers, acting like a child. It's the terror of witnessing what Heaven can do to your identity and your mind: imagine Aziraphale - book-lover, diary-writer, Antichrist-locator Aziraphale with the capacity, as per the book, to solve math problems that only people with Nobel prizes could master - trying to process the idea that his former boss doesn't know the alphabet anymore. The idea that he could be reduced to that degree of utter ignorance and unawareness if Heaven decided that their truce is over.

At the same time, what Aziraphale sees is that, once stripped of all the layers of Heaven's legalism, Gabriel is legitimately a great guy. 

We all love Muriel to death, of course, but the more I watch s2 the more I believe that Jim is the most similar "angel" to Aziraphale out of all the ones we see. He is jovial (think at whatever that cheeck squishing thing is that he does during the ball), he is enthusiastic (think at his reaction at his first sip of hot chocolate, and also his genuine "hurray! Let the bookselling commence!"). He is affectionate and open about it ("You're funny, I love you"). He is caring (sure he was struggling to read the room during the demon attack, but still in that moment of danger he has the altruism of thinking to ask if anyone wants hot chocolate, and hot chocolate is the symbol of comfort for him, it's the first thing Aziraphale offers to him to make him feel at ease in the bookshop and the thing that Crowley brings him to soothe his angst after the memory conversation). He is helpful or at least he wants to be (rearranging the books in an order that, if you think about it, follows the criterion of medieval manuscripts illuminators, who usually embellished only the first letter of the first sentence on a page, which makes sense as a frame of reference for an angel whose only experience of books probably goes back to some old Bibles). He is generous and brave (giving himself up without a second thought when he realises that Shax is threatening Aziraphale and all the others because of him). 

As Jim, memory-wiped Gabriel is both Aziraphale's worst fear and his deepest hope: that after all Heaven is the side of good, that all the cruelty and the callousness and the total blindness to the value of life on Earth is just a mishap, that if you scrape off the absurd obsession with World Ending Great Plans you will find underneath a form of good that is pure and gentle. I think Jim, way more than the Metatron and his shitty offer-threat, is the main thing that brings Aziraphale back on the mission of fixing Heaven, "making a difference," not for the greater cosmic good, but to create a safe place for him and Crowley. So they can be safe together.

But something similar happens from Crowley's point of view. He also sees Gabriel as the concrete manifestation of both his worst fear and his deepest desire. The former Supreme Archangel renews the momentarily forgotten awareness of what Heaven and Hell can do to you if you cross them: destroy you either by throwing you into hellfire or holy water, or now by hanging the threat of the Book of Life above your head. Force you to live in a constant state of danger, pressing you against the possibility of your non-existence, making you feel like you have a loaded gun constantly placed against your skull and no magic trick to avoid the bullet.

At the same time, just as Aziraphale, what Crowley sees is that, if you are determined and lucky or maybe just inconsiderate, you can get away from Heaven and live your happy thoughtless life on Earth. Think of how bitter he is when he confronts Jim in ep5, calling him Gabriel and "Oh, yeah yeah, no no no. You're Jim now. Got everything just the way you want it?" I think here Crowley is projecting his desire to be "on the lam having a wonderful time and never be seen again." Sure, everyone is after him and they had to perform a joined miracle to hide him, but let's not forget that Crowley was not doing it to save Gabriel, he was doing it to keep Aziraphale safe. From his point of view, Gabriel did it: he run off, cut ties with Heaven, settled in his little neat new identity, cared and protected, not a thought in his head. And yes, Crowley is painfully aware of how awful it is to have your memory erased - I don't think he would consider it an acceptable price to pay for freedom. But still, Gabriel did what he would like to do. And it does not help that memory-wiped Gabriel presents specifically to Crowley some aspects of his personality in which he can recognize himself. He is curious and asks questions (think of the gravity conversation), and even more important he is ready to dispute the answers that are given to him ("but they don't stay where I put them"). He��hears the plan about Nina and Maggie that Aziraphale didn't listen to, and afterwards asks Crowley how it went. He is insightful in his own instinctive way (when he tells Crowley "you're really nice" he's not just saying "you are nice a lot" but also "in reality you are nice", he's seeing through Crowley's rough mannerism even if just seconds before he was angrily shouting at him). He has lost his memory, which by now I think most of us agree it's what also happened to Crowley, at least partially ("I know, looking at where the furniture isn't"). And then, the final nail on the mirror-coffin: Gabriel run away from Heaven for his love. They run off together.

Having Jim right there, in front of his very eyes, I think it's the thing that pushes Crowley back to his old plan of running off together with Aziraphale: he is the living prove that it can be done, further confirmed by his final departure with Beelzebub. Of course, for a brief moment both sides of the metaphisical universe where hunting him down, which is not desirable. But Gabriel was the Supreme Archangel after all, it's only fair that they're looking for him. They are but a former bullied angel and a former already-replaced demon, maybe Heaven and Hell would not mobilised their hosts for them. They could be finally safe together.

So, when you put everything together, I think that what happened at the end of ep6 has more to do with Gabriel and how his presence affected them during the season, than it has to do with the Metatron, or even with the Nina-Maggie foil. It is Jim that pushed a wedge into the thin crack that had always been there, separating what each of them sees as the best way to be safe together.

[fort-cozy-mcblanket]

Top three favorite shamy moments? And why? Love hearing your thoughts

1. The Fort

There is a reason I chose this url. The Fortification Implementation is my favorite episode and my favorite Shamy moment. There's something so lovely and so achingly honest about Sheldon and Amy acknowledging that they've both been excluded from a lot of things while growing up and up to the present day, and how it doesn't stop hurting but they can start making up for those lost experiences together.

And ugh, they way they smile at each other in this scene is just so sweet and so pure, I could go insane. I could foam at the mouth. Look at this. There's so much joy in this moment. And then it was their first sleepover too? It's perfect. Just perfect. I can barely talk about this episode without crying. I'm crying right now.

2. The Nobel Prize Recommendation

I feel like this is such a key pivotal moment for them as a couple and it doesn't get talked about a whole lot. They were both willing to give up winning the Nobel Prize for the other. This is maybe not so surprising for Amy, but winning the Nobel Prize was Sheldon's lifelong dream. His lifelong dream was right there almost in his grasp, and even Amy was telling him to take her off the nomination and go for it, and he refused to do it without her. Amy was more important to him than winning.

I want to shove this scene at everyone who says that Sheldon didn't really care about Amy or Amy deserved better or any other such nonsense. He loves her so much. They love each other so much. They created their theory together on their wedding day and decided they were either going to win the Nobel Prize for it together or not at all. It's so beautiful. I'm fucking crying again.

3. The Reconciliation Kiss

Honestly, this was tough. I knew right away what my top two moments were, but it was hard to pick a third. There are so many good moments—the proposal, the first kiss, their wedding, their first time, "you look like a pile of swans," even their first meeting—I feel like I really could have put any one of them here.

But I'm going with their reunion in The Earworm Reverberation because it was just so damn satisfying. After all those stressful months of being broken up but still obviously in love with each other, they finally worked it out. What a relief. And this kiss still makes my heart skip a beat. It went on for so long and I could have watched it even longer. I could stare at it for minutes on end (and I will). It's so good. They're so good.

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

The Raifu infection is S P R E A D I N G

And for me the only cure is M16A1, Springfield (MY BELOVED), Spas-12, and M4 SOPMOD II with an S/O who likes to serenade them with a guitar! Please?

(GFL) M16A1, Springfield, SPAS-12, and M4 SOPMOD II's S/O serenading them with a guitar

I have barely resisted the urge to turn this into yet another song fic because Love Deterrence from Metal Gear is the first song to come to mind. And for Girl's Frontline, that song is very fitting in this setting. Also, SPRINGFIELD MY BELOVED, whoever made her deserves some kind of nobell peace prize for creating a woman who can bring world peace with that voice.

M16 thinks S/O songs are cheesy, if she's being completely honest.

She laughs everytime at the sight of S/O with a guitar, attempting to swoon her with an old love song from the early 2000's.

But at the same time, she couldn't deny that it had its charms.

Or that it was completely ineffective against her.

Strangely enough, she gets flustered if S/O plays it with the rest of her squad around, her usual boisterous attitude shut down into stammers and blushing.

But whenever S/O has her full attention, M16 listens intently with one hand under her chin, smiling all the while.

(M16A1) "You sure know a way into a girl's heart with that singing voice."

(S/O) "It was good?"

(M16A1) snrk "Yeah."

(S/O) "...What was with that snicker?"

(M16A1) "S-Sorry, I really do mean that. It's just...Well, it's just kinda funny. I thought this sort of practice died out fifty years ago."

(S/O) "True love never dies out, my dear!"

M16 knew they said that ironically but it still made her burst out laughing.

...God she hoped they were being ironic.

Springfield absolutely adores S/O's guitars skills.

And she loves it even more that they play songs just for her.

Springfield insists that S/O plays at the café to liven things up!

And if it happens to be a love song, then she certainly won't complain!

Much to the dismay of everyone present in the room if the two lovebirds began flirting.

(Springfield) "Lovely performance as always, S/O!"

(S/O) "Well, I'm not sure I could have played as well without you here, Springfield.~"

(WA2000) "GET A ROOM YOU TWO! Some of us are trying to drink our coffee in peace here!"

Springfield just giggles at the others' reactions, not so much as a hint of shame present on her face.

(Springfield) "If I may ask dear, where did you learn to play a guitar? I can't imagine it was through something digital if you're playing such old songs."

If SPAS had a heart, it'd be pounding every single time S/O played a song specifically for her on their guitar.

She lets out a little squeal before covering her mouth and laughing, listening affectionately to S/O.

This sort of thing was in the old vids she had watched, and she never expected for it to be done for her.

It also helped the romantic mood that it usually happened during a red candlelit dinner.

S/O's music was powerful enough to just make her wait a few seconds longer than usual before digging in.

But even as she's eating, she listens without missing a beat.

(S/O) "Well, what do you think?"

(SPAS-12) "Itwablublyafalaysh!"

(S/O) "Chew your food first SPAS."

SPAS-12 swallowed and wiped her mouth, smiling and leaning into the table, accidentally making it almost tilt and almost hitting S/O in the process.

(SPAS-12) "It was lovely as always! It never fails to make me feel so giddy!"

She giggles as she puts both hands under her chin, staring straight into S/O.

(SPAS-12) "You gotta teach me how to play the guitar too someday! I want my turn to give you something romantic for dinner!"

SOPMOD really enjoyed whenever S/O played her a love song on their acoustic guitar.

She had no idea what most of them were from or what year they originated, but its clear S/O put a lot of heart into them.

SOPMOD at least could appreciate that.

But, it was a bit too soft for her liking.

Only one thing to do, show S/O how it was done! If you wanna sing to SOPMOD, you gotta do it her way!"

(SOPMOD) "S/O! I have a song I wanna play for you too!"

(S/O) "R-Really?"

(SOPMOD) "Uh-huh! I've been learning how to play the guitar just like you! Here, sit, sit!"

SOPMOD excitedly rushed S/O into a chair as they laughed, complying with their girlfriend's wishes.

(S/O) "Alright alright! But you need to grab my guitar first, right?"

(SOPMOD) "Nope! Got my very own!"

SOPMOD opened her dorm's closet and brought out an electric guitar, accented with red lightning bolts. Very much like SOPMOD.

S/O first smiled at that, finding the sight cute.

Until SOPMOD brought out speakers that was larger than her, which she slammed onto the ground with little to no efforts, reminding S/O of the strength she possessed.

And then the dangerous smirk they've learned to love and fear.

...

RO635 sat outside the base to get a breath of fresh air. She felt the cold winds blow against her artificial skin as she sat back into a steel chair she had brought along.

(RO635) "I never noticed how quiet it was out here.-"

(M4 SOPMOD II's Voice)

"WOAH, YEAH! KICKSTART MY HEART, GIVE IT A START! WOAH, YEAH! BAAAAAAAAAABYYYYY!"

(RO635) "...Maybe that's why."