#i mean the fact night at the museum is on here but not those gives you an indication how much they suck | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

frenchkisstheabyss · 1 year ago

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♡ ｗａｎｎａｂｅｙｏｕｒｓ♡

♡ Pairing: bouncer!bang chan x stripper!chubby!fem!reader

♡ Summary: You've had your eye on a bouncer who works at your club for the longest time. Tonight may just be the night that you get your chance with him

♡ Genre: smut/angst-ish

♡ Word Count: 1.5kish

♡ Warnings: light violence during fight scene, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex, dick riding (in the fun sense)

If years of being a dancer have taught you anything it’s how to pretend to give a shit when you’d much rather be at home vegetating. It’s not that you hate your job. You simply aren’t always in the mood to socialize. But the club’s packed tonight and bills need to be paid.

At least the customers are generous, the music’s tolerable, and your best friend’s scheduled to work with you. Spinning around on the pole, you spot her over by the bar lighting a sparkler inside a bottle of champagne. She waves to you, blowing you a kiss. You blow one right back at her.

A sweet moment's swiftly interrupted by the thud of a body crashing onto your platform. With the music blaring overhead, you hadn’t noticed the fight breaking out behind you between bouncers and a few frat boys who’ve clearly had one too many vodka shots. The frat boy laid out at your feet has blood gushing from his nose, ruining his shirt and risking the safety of your brand new stilettos.

He sees the bouncer responsible for his broken nose headed in his direction and so do you. Both of your heart rates increase for opposing reasons. His because, despite his blurred vision, he’s ready to go another round. Yours because the bouncer in question is Bang Chan or Channie as he lets you call him.

You’ve had an embarrassingly heavy crush on the platinum blonde haired Aussie since your first night working here. Somehow you’ve managed to remain oblivious to the fact that the feeling’s mutual. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch a glimpse of the frat boy sneaking a knife from his pocket.

You stomp down on his wrist, applying your full weight, and you feel something crunch beneath your heel. He cries out in pain, the knife falling to the floor. Now his nose isn’t the only thing that’s broken. Chan grabs him by the shirt, tossing him into the arms of two other bouncers waiting nearby.

You’ve never seen him this angry before but his rage is fleeting when he rises from retrieving the knife and lays eyes on you. He smiles up at you, basking in your beauty like you’re one of those goddess statues in a museum. Masterfully carved in marble and perfect in every sense of the word.

“My hero” he gasps, hand over his heart. You roll your eyes, “Dramatic much?” Chan takes your manicured hand, kissing it so gently that it sends a chill through your body. “Thank you. I mean it. I owe you one.” His thumb strokes the back of your hand, your gazes lingering on each other as the rest of the world fades away.

It returns with a roar as the fight erupts again. “I, uh…” he stutters, torn between the longing to stay with you and his obligation to fulfill his duties. “Go. Do your job. No slacking” you tease, shooing him away. Chan blushes, grateful that the darkness of the club conceals it, and disappears into the crowd.

Being the professional that you are, you immediately go back to dancing. Your mind’s even farther gone than before, floating somewhere in the clouds treasuring the tingle left behind by his kiss like it’s gold.

“Absolutely not” you sing, slamming the door to your locker. In the dressing room girls crowd around a half dozen vanities, dashing between clothing racks, hurrying to put the finishing touches on their looks before they’re called to the floor. You, on the other hand, have already changed into a hoodie and a cozy pair of sweats.

The night’s over for you. At least it was before your best friend cornered you, begging to borrow your car. “Oh, come on. Please, please, please” she pouts, “It’s only until tomorrow and I’ll give it right back.” “And how exactly am I supposed to get home?” The grin that spreads across her glitter speckled face is adorable and concerning all at once.

Throwing her coat on, she takes your hand and drags you through one of the side doors where Chan leans against his car waiting for you. With the sleeves of his black dress shirt rolled up and a few buttons undone, you get a peek at the tattoos covering his muscular form. Whatever workout this man does has done sinfully good things to his body.

Your best friend plucks the car keys from your hand, nudging you forward, “You look out for my girl, Bang Chan!” “I’ll take good care of her” he promises, opening the door for you. There’s something sensual about the way he says that. “I’ll take good care of her.” You throw the bag on your shoulder into the backseat, hesitating to get in yourself.

“You really don’t have to do this.” “I owe you, remember?” Unable to argue with him, you hop in and put your seatbelt on. As sexy as he looks walking around to the driver’s side, you wouldn’t object to being taken care of by him.

You pinch yourself on the arm, shaking off the thought of anything happening between the two of you. He probably doesn’t want it to. Even if he did, you work together. Something like that would never happen. It can’t...

An hour’s passed and you’re thrown across your bed, knees pressed to your chest, breathing like a pregnant woman in a Lamaze class. You have no clue where your clothes went but honestly, who the hell cares? Chan’s face is buried between your legs, slurping at your pussy like it’s the only thing he’s eaten in 48 hours.

Though that may not technically be true, you definitely taste better than any meal he’s had in recent memory. Your bed’s soaked from how wet you are, a year’s worth of anticipation dripping from his chin. He sucks your clit between his lips, circling it with his tongue and pulling away.

He repeats this over and over again, edging you to the point that you’re a trembling, overstimulated wreck. “Channie…” you whine, your eyes falling close as your nails dig into the sheets below. Chan grabs onto your lush hips, lifting you away from him, “Keep them open.

I wanna see those pretty eyes when I make you cum.” You pry them open and catch him staring up at you with nearly the same look he had at the club. Only now there’s an insatiable hunger behind those eyes. Grinding you down against his face, his tongue plunges into the depths of your warmth.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” is all you can say when he has you coming apart at the seams. “Mmm” he hums, sensing how close you are by the way your walls clench around his tongue. He flexes it along your g-spot and you’re cumming harder than you ever have. Your body’s twisting, pitiful moans fill the air, fingers grasping at his hair.

This must be what it feels like to have a demon exorcized or to be possessed by one. Either way, there’s nothing in this world like it. Even as your body goes limp, your mind going cloudy, Chan’s still kitten licking your slit to gather every drop of your juices. When he finally stops, he straightens your legs out, massaging them as he trails wet kisses up your stomach.

He takes the hand previously responsible for breaking someone’s nose and delicately toys with your nipples. They perk up for him, making each graze of his fingertip twice as intense. He drags his tongue over your bud. Up your chest. Along your chin. You open your mouth to catch your breath and he’s pulling you into a decadent kiss, laced with the sweetness of your arousal.

“I knew you’d taste amazing but that was…” he groans, using two fingers to stroke between your folds, “I could stay between those thighs all night.” “You’ll have to come up for air at some point” you tease. Chan wraps his arms around your waist, hooking an arm behind your knee, “Breathing is overrated.”

In one fluid motion, he’s rolled you over on top of him, his thick cock resting against your twitching clit. Your legs are as structurally solid as jello but you manage to prop yourself up on them, fingers running along his length. “Is this all cause of lil old me?” you ask, dipping your thumb in the precum leaking from his tip and licking it off.

Chan cups your cheek into his palm and you nuzzle it, kissing his palm. “Can I keep you?” You giggle at the question, raising your hips and sinking down onto him. “You can'' you moan, rotating your hips in graceful figure eights that have him ready to implode. A mixture of pleasure and panic floods his system.

It’d be embarrassing to cum this quickly but you’re making it impossible. It takes everything he has to hold back watching you have this much fun using his dick to make yourself feel good.

Chan gets it, how men can throw everything in their pockets at you when you’re on stage. He’d empty every bank account in his name to have you sit on his face. Just sit there. Not even move.

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carriedawatermelon · 2 months ago

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Ronance Kinktober, chapter four. Idk when it stops being a ficlet, but this is nearly 6k words soooo. In which Nancy has a surprisingly good afternoon (and Robin does, too). Did I look up Indianapolis museum exhibits in 1986-87 for this? Yes, yes I did.

Prompt: Multiple Orgasms

The spare key is in a fake rock by the garage, and Nancy grabs it before she goes back to her car for the casserole dish, balancing it on her hip as she pushes open the front door.

She rolls her eyes at the fact that every single light in the house is on, despite the fact that Steve’s at work, and makes her way to the kitchen, sitting the casserole on the counter as she opens the fridge to make sure there’s room.

It’s a little strange, to be moving milk and leftovers she doesn’t let herself think too hard about in Steve’s fridge, but it’s nice, too, to be comfortable enough to do this again. They’re friends. Really friends. Steve hangs out at the house, with Robin and Dustin and Erica, somehow, and Vickie now, sometimes too, who is…nice. Fine. They’re friends, all of them. Things are still a little weird with Jon, but she imagines, hopes, that they’ll get there, too.

Her mom is pleased, winks at Nancy like she knows something when Steve comes around, giving a deeply annoying nod of her head at Nancy’s repeated and emphatic assertions that they are friends, that they are not getting back together. “Sure, honey. Of course.”

Nancy tries not to let it grate too much. It doesn’t matter, really, except that they are friends and they’re not getting back together. They had talked, after Vecna, after the second round of Vecna, bruises yellowing on their skin. Nancy had spoken to Jonathan the day before, and she wanted to get it all over with, let herself hurt all at once if she had to.

It had hurt. Both of the conversations had hurt, but they had hurt the same way it did when she buckled her seatbelt in those days after the upside-down, the strip of fabric pressing into a body that was still healing. A reminder that she was actually healing, the pain a sign that she didn’t want to hurt again.

She wasn’t what he wanted, couldn’t be, not that she had any desire to try. He understood, a level of self-awareness that was welcome and unexpected. For her part, it hadn’t hurt her when he’d admitted he had been scared and grasping, that Nancy had been there to hold on to.

They had taken a few days, less time than she expected, and then he’d called and said, “Come watch a movie with us. It’s her night, and Robin says you can pick.” She had gone to watch a movie with them, and there had been ten minutes of weirdness, the two of them in the kitchen with the soda and pretzels Nancy brought, and then they’d both smiled and it had been fine. It’s been fine for months, better than fine, and Nancy had hoped the year she decided to take before starting college would be good for her, but she couldn’t have anticipated that it would be this good, full of genuinely easy time with her friends. She’s happy that she’ll be staying closer, happy about Northwestern.

Now, she’s here, wrinkling her nose at a pizza box taking up way too much space on the second shelf. She’s sighing and taking it out and risking a look because her mom has sent her with a casserole, chicken spaghetti, which Steve loves. Maybe she thinks Steve will look at it and look at Nancy and be a little closer to reaching for his class ring, just until he can get something better.

Nancy can’t care too much. She and Steve understand each other, and it’s good, anyway. Steve gets a home-cooked meal, which he needs, and just as often that means Robin gets one, too.

Robin, who’s over at her house more than Steve, charming her mother by asking genuine questions about the book she’s reading or the sewing projects she’s started doing again since half of Hawkins fell into a hole. Robin, who treats Holly like she’s a middle-aged friend with a desk job, asking about her day at the office and her coworkers. The bit’s been going for at least six months now, and it still makes Holly giggle the way a seven year old should. Robin, who has Mike’s respect since they went back in, since she stood in front of them with a spiked baseball bat and a line of Molotovs and has the scars to show how much she meant it.

Her dad even grunts in recognition when she gets to the house. He doesn’t typically care for people or noise or anything at all, his unflappably kind youngest daughter a notable exception, and he has noticed the way that Holly laughs when Robin’s around. It hadn’t hurt that Robin had seen his Pacers socks, a Christmas gift from Holly, and had a twenty minute conversation with him about odds and drafts and players. Twenty minutes. At Nancy’s obvious gape, Robin had said, stealing a cookie, “I’ve got a little cousin who doesn’t talk at all, but he’ll talk about the Pacers, so I learned about the Pacers.”

Nancy’s come to terms with the fact that she’s got feelings for her that go well beyond platonic with a capital P. It’s not what she expected but if she ignored things or pretended they weren’t real just because they were unexpected, she’d be no better than most of the adults in Hawkins. She’d also probably be dead. Ignoring a demogorgon is not an effective method of defense.

Ignoring the way her stomach flips around Robin, the way she wants to smooth her perpetually wrinkled work shirt just to see her blush, the way she wants to hold her hands and play with her rings and the astonishing amount of time she’s spent thinking about the fingers on which those rings sit—well, Nancy’s not interested in a method of defense, anyway. She’s interested in Robin, in the the things that she says and the way that she thinks and the places she wants to go. She’s interested in the blue of her eyes and the freckles that cover her skin and the rasp of her voice.

It feels good, to be interested. It feels good to sit close to her at movie night, to lift Robin’s arm and tuck herself underneath it and feel her chin on her head. It feels great, to make Robin laugh. It feels amazing, to wake up with Robin’s arm around her, her breath against her neck, the length of her body wrapped around Nancy’s warm and safe. Better, to turn carefully and brush her hair back from her face, watch blue eyes blink open at her and a smile spread slowly and the blush that still covers her cheeks when she realizes how close they are. She doesn’t pull away, not any longer, not since Nancy made it clear, kept making it clear, that she didn’t want her to.

By the time Robin told her, Nancy had already seen her with Vickie at the volunteer center. She’d watched and watched as they made sandwiches and sorted clothes and then something had clicked into place. Nancy’s from Hawkins but she’s never wanted her world to be that small. She knows about homosexuals. Her mom’s got a cousin in Chicago who lives with his best friend, and she’s known Will Byers his whole life, was ready to stand with Jonathan between him and anyone who had a thing to say about it.

She’d felt silly, for a minute, that she thought Robin and Steve were together. And then she’d felt something else entirely. She pushed that away, when Robin brought her a milkshake and asked if they could take a walk, made herself soft as Robin stuttered and stumbled and landed, finally, so visibly nervous it made Nancy ache. “I like…I like women. Girls. In a…in a romantic way. I’m a lesbian.”

Leaning over, the chains of the swingset creaking, she put her hand on Robin’s. “Thank you for telling me.” Robin’s tears of relief had broken her heart.

She’d told Nancy about Vickie a few days later, cheeks red and fingers picking at her bottom lip. And Nancy had smiled and acted the way a friend should, asking questions and encouraging her. Two weeks later, Robin had shrugged it off with a little too much nonchalance, said they were too similar and Vickie wasn’t sure she was finished with her ex anyway and they were better off as friends. The better parts of Nancy hugged Robin and made cookies with her and Holly and made a fool of herself dancing and singing to David Bowie and Heart. The worse parts of her managed to develop a vicious grudge against Vickie while also celebrating that she could do something about the fact that someone had been dumb enough to let Robin go. Vickie’s loss.

She tries to see the Nancy’s gain part of that equation, too, because she thinks, maybe, it is her gain. Or it will be soon. She sees the way Robin looks back at her, the way she has started lifting her own arm for Nancy at movie nights, the way her grin turns crooked when Nancy laughs. So Nancy’s gain, as soon as she can bridge that last little gap. And Vickie really is nice enough. She and Robin really are friends. Still, Robin once mentioned Vickie’s order at the drive-thru, and now Nancy never brings Sprite to movie nights if she’s there.

She’s thrown out half the leftovers in the fridge. She can’t help herself. It’s unsanitary and she spends too much time here to let the place where she finds food and drink become a Petri dish. She’s washing her hands when she hears footsteps on the stairs and then movement at the door of the kitchen.

“Did you forget the tapes? I put them by the front door, I thought.”

It’s Robin, long legs hanging out of white and green checked boxers, an oversized blue t-shirt exposing her collarbone and part of one shoulder. She’s got on some of Steve’s basketball socks, and her hair is mussed like she just climbed out of bed. Nancy wants to shove her right back in.

“Nance,” she says, smiling big. “What’re you doing here?”

“My mom made chicken spaghetti,” she says, gesturing lamely at the fridge, and she knows she sounds strange, disaffected maybe, but she can’t focus on anything but Robin.

She doesn’t know why. She sees Robin in her sleep clothes often, wakes up with their legs tangled and has regularly scratched gently at her back under one of those big t-shirts. But there’s something different about this, about seeing Robin here, at 2:00 in the afternoon, sunlight streaming through Steve’s kitchen window and highlighting the patches of freckles on her thighs, the golden hair that covers her legs. Sleepy and vulnerable and soft and Nancy wants her.

She’s moving, and Robin’s eyebrows scrunch in confusion. “Nance?” And then Nancy’s on her, hands bunched in the fabric of her shirt, mouth pressed hot against Robin’s. “Oh, fuck,” Robin whispers into the space she makes to breathe, but her eyes go dark and she’s got Nancy pressed against the counter, her hands on her hips and then lower, cupping her thighs. Nancy takes the hint, puts her own arms behind her on the counter and pushes as Robin lifts, mouth never leaving Nancy’s neck.

“Fuck,” she says again, teeth grazing Nancy’s skin, and Nancy’s head hits the upper cabinets with a thud. It’s loud enough that Robin pulls back to check on her. “Okay?” Nancy’s not sure she sees the nod, but her hand tugging Robin back to kiss her is answer enough, probably, or her tongue pressing against Robin’s with purpose.

Hands move across her body, over her back and shoulders, cupping her neck, running through her hair. Eventually, they work at the buttons of her shirt, but they’re distracted, a little shaky and Nancy bats them away gently, undoes the buttons herself as Robin splays her palms over her thighs. Robin’s nosing at her temple, pressing kisses to her jaw and licking at her neck, hot and gentle and everything Nancy wants. When she finally gets the buttons undone, she shrugs the shirt off and brings Robin’s hands up to her chest, sighs out as she feels them cup her over her bra.

“Jesus, Nancy. You’re so beautiful.” It’s reverent, disbelieving, and Nancy blinks open her eyes to find Robin, breathing hard but looking at her with a kind of awe that makes her blush. Robin Buckley, melting her. It’s not a surprise. Nancy needs her, badly, so she presses her chest out as shamelessly as she can, and Robin groans. “Fucking perfect. Oh my god. Am I still napping? Is this real?”

“You’re not napping,” Nancy says with affection and enough tease to make Robin duck her head. She misses Nancy’s hands moving behind her back, undoing her navy blue bra. She does not miss the way the bra loosens, head snapping back up and hands moving to tug at the straps, eyes fixed on Nancy’s chest. “This is real,” Nancy says, proud of the way her voice is steady as Robin begins to thumb at her nipples. “If you want it to be.”

Hands move around her back at that, Robin pressed to the counter between her knees as she kisses Nancy hard and filthy, holding her close. “Yeah, I fuckin’ want it,” she rasps as she moves back to bite at Nancy’s collarbone, and Nancy’s wetter than she’s ever been in her life. “Lemme show you, okay? Wanna show you.”

“Yeah, Robbie. Show me, baby.”

Robin pauses, places a gentle kiss to tender skin, and Nancy runs a hand through her hair. “You like that?”

It’s almost shy, the nod into her neck, and Nancy’s reminded of the fact that Robin’s never done this, not just the sex, because Nancy’s never done it quite like this either, is astounded by Robin’s confidence, frankly, but the affection, the closeness. The relationship. That’s what Nancy wants, and that’s what she wants to give Robin.

She tucks her index finger under Robin’s chin and brings Robin back up, leans forward to kiss her softly, a short, sure press of her lips. “Baby,” she says again, and this kind of softness is new for her, too, but it doesn’t feel dangerous. Robin bites her lower lip, her hands running up Nancy’s thighs to come rest on her waist.

“Hi,” she says, still shy, and Nancy’s in danger of falling apart.

Instead, she traces Robin’s left eyebrow. “Hi,” she echoes. “I’m sorry I threw myself at you without saying hello first.”

Robin’s eyebrow twitches under her finger as she grins. “Literally the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Please do that whenever you want.”

“I think I’ll probably generally say hello first.” Robin lights up, so pleased, and Nancy leans forward to kiss her again. “But good to know I have permission to skip it if I need to.”

Need, Robin mouths to herself, and Nancy rolls her eyes.

“I had plans, you know. To ask you out properly and bring you flowers and kiss you good night.”

Robin laughs and Nancy arches an eyebrow. “I am absolutely not kidding.” Robin’s staring at her, wide-eyed, and Nancy puts on her best I know what I’m doing face. “Actually. Robin, are you free Friday night? I’ve been hoping to take you out, if that’s something you’d be interested in.”

There is, almost unbelievably and absolutely embarrassingly, a nervous edge to her voice. Robin’s eyes blink, taking her in, and then she’s hugging Nancy, long arms wrapped tight around her waist as she nods. “Yes. Yeah. I’m free Friday.”

“Good.” Her hand buries itself in Robin’s hair, keeping her close. “I’ll pick you up at 6.”

“Nancy.” Her head shakes lightly. “Sweetheart,” she tries softly, and Nancy closes her eyes as her heart thuds happily, humming her approval. She’d never used pet names, really, hated it, when Steve and Jon used them. She doesn’t hate this at all. Arms loosening, Robin’s hands begin roaming over the exposed skin of Nancy’s back. She shivers, fingers tightening, and Robin whimpers. “You feel so good.”

“I want your hands on me all the time,” she confesses, and is rewarded with the tips of Robin’s fingers digging into her skin, short nails just enough to make her hiss.

“I want my hands on you all the time.” Her voice is back to that low, broken sound, and Nancy lets her free hand run down Robin’s back and over her ribs, resting against her sternum.

“Do you want to keep going?”

It’s a serious question and she asks it seriously, but Robin barely takes a second to answer. “Yes.” She flattens her palms again. “I’m nervous,” she admits. “But I don’t want to stop.”

“You’re doing a great job so far.” Maybe she shouldn’t say it, shouldn’t cant her hips or squeeze her thighs around Robin’s body where it rests between them. She does, though, and Robin doesn’t seem to mind, trying to press further forward into Nancy. Her hands move back around, slow, stopping below her breasts. Robin’s eyes are careful but wanting, her breath growing ragged again, as Nancy leans close, says against her lips, “Touch me.”

That’s all the permission Robin needs, her hands moving with confidence, thumbs catching and pinching her nipples until Nancy’s arching for her, mouth gasping against Robin’s. “Harder,” she says, and Robin groans her approval, pulling with intention and leaving Nancy’s mouth for her jaw, her ear, her neck. Her mouth is greedy, and Nancy’s happy to give her whatever she wants, hands buried in her hair encouragingly.

When her mouth moves lower, taking a nipple into her mouth and moaning happily around it, Nancy reaches down and undoes her jeans herself. Robin notices, stops sucking so she can help, pulling at the fabric while Nancy lifts her hips. She takes her panties, too, at Nancy’s nod, and then her bare ass is on the kitchen counter, her pants bunched at her ankles, which was not in her plan for today, but she could give a shit, really, because Robin’s running a finger through the mess that she’s become, cursing into the air as she watches herself touch Nancy.

“So wet,” she says, fascinated and precious, grazing Nancy’s clit and making her hips jump.

“For you,” Nancy says, because she wants Robin to know, and the look she gets back has her hips moving again.

“What should I…how?” She says, and Nancy kisses her, licks at her bottom lip and sucks it into her mouth. Robin’s finger is still moving, but she looks dazed when Nancy pulls away.

“Inside,” Nancy says. “Want to feel you.”

Tentatively, she slides her middle finger into Nancy, both of their eyes watching, and when she pushes past the second knuckle, Nancy closes her eyes and makes a breathy, broken sound of pleasure, because she feels good, and because it’s Robin.

“Okay?”

“Mmhmm. Yeah. Yes. Good, Robbie. You feel so good.”

“Oh my god,” she says, and then starts a narration that has Nancy shaking. “You’re so wet and so warm and so tight. God. I can’t. You feel so good, Nance. Fuck. Fuck.”

Her finger’s moving slowly, in and out, and then she crooks it, feeling and pressing and Nancy’s eyes fly open. Robin’s so focused, it takes her a second to notice, another second of her touching Nancy exactly the right way, and it must show on her face because Robin gets the look she gets when she wins an argument with Dustin. Smug. Nancy clenches around her.

“More,” she says, and Robin’s sliding a second finger in, the pads moving and pressing as she thrusts.

Her mouth moves to Nancy’s, their kisses deep, and then she kisses down again, biting at Nancy’s left breast and taking a nipple into her mouth. Her tongue moves against it, and Nancy holds her to her chest with one hand while she slips the other between her legs, finding her clit.

“Shit,” Robin says as she pulls away, panting. “Yes. God. Touch yourself for me.”

Moving to do just that, Nancy wonders idly if she and Steve have been taking advantage of the little adult section behind the curtain in the back room at the store. Is there lesbian porn there? Is it any good? She has doubts on both counts. The pictures in the magazines she’d found under Jonathan’s mattress had seemed ridiculous, but the stories had been…okay. Her mind refocuses as she dips her fingers lower to get them wet, bumping Robin’s and causing them both to groan. She’s ready, like a livewire, and as soon as her fingers start moving, she knows it won’t be long.

Maybe Robin knows, too, because she leaves Nancy’s chest to whisper filthy things in her ear. “Wanna feel you come for me. Can feel how close you are, so tight around my fingers already. So hot. You wanna come, Nancy?” She whimpers her response. “Wanna come with me inside you? Promise I won’t stop until you tell me. Come on, baby. Come for me.”

She does, Robin’s fingers crooked perfectly inside her and her middle finger working furiously against herself. Robin keeps her promise and doesn’t stop, keeps fucking into her as Nancy clenches around her, body rocking and shaking as her orgasm rolls through her. Eventually, she takes her own hand away, leaning back against the counter with her palms braced.

Robin follows her, kissing her softly and then letting Nancy tuck her into her neck, warm lips grazing skin and nose running along her jaw.

“Holy shit, you’re gorgeous,” she whispers, and Nancy feels the flush in her cheeks, the honesty of it overwhelming. She’s still inside her, and she’s making no move to leave, and Nancy, Nancy doesn’t want her to. In fact…she rolls her hips in a test, and a cry punches out of her, unexpected.

“Nance?”

Anticipating that Robin might try to pull away, Nancy catches her wrist and holds her still and close, grinding again, moaning loudly.

“Fuck,” Robin says. “Fuck. Gonna give me more, sweetheart?”

Fluttering her eyes open, she meets blue and bites her lip. Normally, she can make herself come more than once in a night, but she needs time. She’s never done it with a partner, rarely ever came at all with Jon or Steve, unless her own hand was involved and her eyes were closed. But right now?

“I want to,” she answers, and Robin looks determined. “I want you,” she adds, tugging at Robin’s earlobe affectionately, like she’s not riding her fingers on Steve’s kitchen counter and begging to get fucked again.

Robin kisses her softly, and then less softly, and then her fingers are moving and she’s saying, like maybe she’s just as wrecked as Nancy, “Can you take another?” And Nancy’s nodding because she can and because she wants it.

Robin’s third finger stretches her open, and it’s so good, the ache of it, the pressure, the way she shifts inside Nancy to keep the friction where she wants it. She slips her second hand down, thumb taking over the job Nancy had been doing a few minutes ago, and she experiments until Nancy says, “Like that, like that,” her hands gripping at Robin’s shoulders over the sleep shirt she should’ve made her take off.

Her breath is heavy near Nancy’s ear, and Nancy’s louder than she’s ever been, little noises and affirmations constant in the air between them, and then she’s tightening, and Robin’s saying, “Yeah, Nancy, good girl, come for me,” and Nancy does, and, miraculously, shaking as she holds herself against Robin’s body, she wants more.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” she says breathlessly, disbelievingly, moving a soothing hand to Robin’s hair and explaining when she hears the concerned noise she makes. “I want more.” She laughs at herself, makes a pitchy, wanting sound when Robin flexes, still inside her, at the admission.

“Let me give you more,” she says simply, just as breathless. “Let me…” She pauses and Nancy waits, focuses on her breath and not on the fingers spreading her open. “I want to go down on you.” She can’t help the clench, and Robin’s moan makes her do it again, and holy shit, she’s so close already, so, so close, and she could come like this, again, but Robin’s mouth is on offer.

“Yes.”

“Yeah?” It’s genuine, like maybe she doesn’t know how easily Nancy would beg if she asked her, if that were what she wanted.

“Yes. Please.”

But when Robin kisses her, shifts her arm to get a better angle, get closer, her fingers press just right again, and Nancy’s so full of her and wants to stay that way, needs to stay that way. She clutches Robin to her, and Robin understands, starting steady, slow movements of her fingers. Her other hand comes up between them, teases over her breasts and stops at her neck, cupping carefully, thumb running the faint scar that runs the circumference. Robin has one to match, a thin white line that catches Nancy’s eye when she laughs in the right light, head thrown back. She moves to kiss it now, an impulse she can finally indulge.

Robin’s hand moves, the base of her palm adjusting so that Nancy can grind against it. “Robin,” she sighs against her neck. “Yes.”

It probably wouldn’t be enough, normally, but she’s so sensitive, so ready, that it’s more than enough, her body freezing in pleasure in a way that catches her by surprise. She shakes, again, breathing out against Robin’s collarbone, her hand now holding the back of Nancy’s head, her fingers still slowly moving.

“I want to do that forever.”

It’s an inside thought that escaped, which Nancy knows even before Robin’s body tenses. She kisses her neck in reassurance, her nails digging into the fabric over her shoulder blades.

“Sounds good to me.” It’s quiet but steady, and it makes Robin relax under her, press a kiss to Nancy’s head.

Her brain doesn’t whir over the exchange the way it usually might, something about three orgasms, probably, and about Robin, definitely, giving her space to breathe. They have months before they go to college to figure things out, and they’ll be in the same city when they do eventually go, and so what, anyway. She means it. It does sound good.

Nancy has spent the last few years making herself hard, being what other people needed her to be, and this isn’t that. This is letting herself be nineteen and in love and wanting, maybe for the first time.

With another kiss to Robin’s neck, she leans back on the counter. Deep pink covers Robin’s cheeks and the bit of her chest that’s exposed, and she’s biting her bottom lip, and Nancy smiles at her and then looks down, to where Robin’s still inside her.

“Oh my god,” she laughs, mostly to herself. “This is insane.” When she looks back up, the smug tilt is coming back to Robin’s lips and Nancy’s very into it, but she wants to gain back a little ground, just for the fun of it. “Still interested in going down on me?”

It works, smug replaced by an almost innocent eagerness, a rapid head nod. “Yeah. Yep. Super interested. Please.”

Overcome by fondness, Nancy pulls her close again, kissing her before nodding. “Okay.”

They separate, Robin reluctantly removing herself from Nancy, wincing in sympathy as Nancy does and kissing her soundly, murmuring sweet things to her as she holds her close and then moves to tug her panties and pants up where they’re caught on her sneakers, helps her settle on the floor again.

She links their fingers, bringing Nancy’s hand up to kiss her knuckles and smile shyly, and Nancy’s got butterflies, wants and wants and wants.

Robin’s room, the one she uses at least five nights a week, though she technically still has one at her parents’ house, is next to Steve’s, and she apologizes, hand at the back of her neck, for the mess. It isn’t a surprise. Nancy’s been here before, slept tucked next to Robin in her perpetually unmade bed. She knows how to navigate the piles of books and cassettes and pens and notebooks. She recognizes the drawing pad open on the desk, makes a note to move the two glasses of water that sit beside it, both nearly full, and bring her a fresh one. The clothes Nancy assumes Robin was wearing earlier are tossed over the back of the desk chair while dirty laundry sits in a small hill in the corner. It smells like her, sour candy and leather and lavender. It makes Nancy feel easy in herself. It makes Nancy feel close to her.

She’s still topless, but she bends down to unlace her sneakers and toe them off, kicking them out of the way and then shucking her jeans and underwear unceremoniously. Robin watches her, licks her lips, and then pulls her own shirt over her head, pulls her boxers and the briefs she wore under them down her legs and kicks them into the dirty pile.

“Fair’s fair,” she says with a shrug, but there are nerves in her face and in her posture and Nancy, breath gone at the sight of her, can’t have that.

She’s kissing her, hands tracing paths up new skin, and she presses her back into the bed, climbing over her and straddling her thighs.

“Fuck, Robin. You’re perfect.” She means it, absolutely, her eyes wandering over gorgeous tits and patches of freckles spanning her ribs, the dusting of hair below her belly button and the dark blonde that covers her, just above where Nancy’s settled herself. Robin’s looking up at her, vulnerable, the sharp cut of her jaw and line of her nose familiar and no less striking every single time. Nancy wants so badly to give her everything she can.

“Can I touch you?” Her hands are resting neutrally on her stomach.

“Y-yeah. Please. If-if you want to.”

She stretches her hands and body out at that, smiling sharply. “I want to,” she confirms, and then takes Robin’s nipple into her mouth.

She cries out, a hand holding the back of Nancy’s head, and Nancy sucks harder, pleased, rolling her hips against Robin’s thighs and humming at the relief of it. Her other hand comes up to work her other breast.

She takes a sharp breath, overcome. Nancy has come to understand she’s a homosexual over the last several months, had just had the best sexual experience of her life in an objectively uncomfortable position with her clothes tangled at her ankles because it had been Robin touching her, but the difference in the way she feels when she touches Robin still nearly strikes her dumb. She wants to be everywhere, to touch and taste and hear the sounds she makes.

“Nancy,” Robin says, almost begging. “Nancy, please.”

She pulls herself off and sits up to meet Robin’s eyes. She’s barely touched her, has much more she wants to do, but she takes pity on Robin, writhing as much as she can with Nancy pinning her down.

“I’ve got you, baby.” She bends to kiss her, and then she’s kissing down again, over her sternum and her ribs, nosing at her belly button and then at the hair beneath. “Okay?” She asks, and Robin nods frantically.

“You smell so good,” she observes, as much a happy note for herself as for Robin. Yeah, absolutely a homosexual, she thinks again, desire running through her like fire. She wants to bury herself in Robin, so she does, nose and tongue and then her fingers, gently with another nod from her girl. Her girl, tight around Nancy and letting out perfect moans and little pleading mewling sounds, one hand in the sheets and the other in Nancy’s over her hip.

“Nancy, Nancy. I’m gonna come. Oh my god, I’m gonna-“

She’s so tight, her knees bending up and her thighs clenching around Nancy’s head and then falling to the bed, sprawling and boneless like the rest of her. Nancy grins, wipes the back of her hand across her mouth, and crawls up her body. Their kiss tastes like Robin, whose eyes are dazed, arms wrapping around Nancy and holding her close. Her heart beats quickly against Nancy’s ear. Being skin to skin with her this way is so good Nancy isn’t sure how she’s going to avoid the temptation when Robin stays over.

“You’re so good at that.” The preening is reflexive and she doesn’t try to stop it, not that Robin can see it, except maybe she knows anyway, an amused huff raising Nancy’s head with her chest and her hands scratching at her back.

“I’ll get better with practice.” It’s important to her, being competent. This is an area where she hopes to excel.

She can feel Robin’s laughter, or the tired form of it she can manage. “I mean, you’re at an A+ already, summa cum laude, all of it, but uh, I am definitely here to help with practice. Whenever. Wherever.”

“Why are you here?” It’s a thought she hadn’t bothered with, much, much better things to think about, but Steve had told her the house would be empty, had reminded her of the spare key. “At home, I mean. Today. Steve said nobody would be here.”

“Oh, yeah. I was supposed to be in Indy. There’s an exhibit at Newfields I wanted to see, but the bus didn’t run, so I fucked around at the library for a minute and then came home to nap.”

“Sorry you didn’t get to go.”

Robin snorts, holds her closer. “I’m really, really not.”

Pressing another kiss to her sternum, Nancy says, “Wanna go with me? To the exhibit? I’ve got time tomorrow or, I know I said 6 on Friday but we could go earlier.”

“You wanna drive to Indy to go to a basket and quilting exhibit with me? I’d like you to actually keep dating me, Nance. You really don’t need to do that.”

It’s light, easy, and Nancy tries to keep her response the same, manages, mostly. “I like watching you get excited about things. It’s one of the things that made me want to date you in the first place. Teach me about baskets, Buckley.”

It’s true, the shift from annoyed to endeared happening rapid-fire when Nancy realized Robin is, genuinely, just being herself. She likes languages and art and music, has spent her whole life trying to keep herself entertained in a town that does its best to keep the world small. It had been no surprise when she’d gotten into Chicago, eyes alight with possibility once Hopper made clear the government would be footing the bill.

“Okay,” she says quietly. “Yeah. Let’s go look at baskets.” She shifts, and Nancy goes with the movement, ends up on her back with a very naked Robin Buckley boxing her in, a dangerous smile on her face. “But first…”

She’s warm and eager and Nancy tilts her head back and sighs as she works her way down.

#ronance #ronance fic #ronance smut #ronance kinktober

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pimosworld · 2 years ago

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Care to join?

Pairing- Layla el Faouly x f!reader x Steven Grant x Marc Spector x Jake Lockley

This is my submission for @flightlessangelwings pride month celebration. I’m new to writing but this month is very special to me so I put my nerves aside and came up with this self indulgent fic.

Summary-Steven asks you about your feelings for Layla after she shows interest in you. Will this change your relationship?

Dialogue prompt- “Can I kiss you?”

CW-Explicit 18+MDNI, mentions of DID,eventual poly relationship,FF dynamics, talks about sexuality, kissing,cursing,light angst,fluff,thigh riding, smut,threesome MFF,oral sex female receiving, fingering, unprotected piv,piv cream pie

WC-3.8k

A/N- Layla is married to Marc and has been previously in an established relationship with the system. Reader is in an established relationship with Steven.Reader is not described or race coded. I will often write that the system can carry/pick up the reader and I am a plus size person who can not be carried by my partner but I like to believe that since they are superheroes they have superhuman strength.

Not beta read

***

Wednesday

You’re lying under Steven, your legs wrapped around his waist while you both try to catch your breath. You’re rubbing slow lines up and down his back as his hot breath blows on your neck.

“Love...that was… incredible.” He raises on his elbows to peer down at you with his sweat tousled curls on his forehead. You can’t help but fall in love with him every time you look into those deep brown eyes. He’s grown soft inside you but he refuses to move. He drops his head down onto your shoulder and lets out a deep sigh.

“Just give me a minute please.” You know he can be needy but the annoyance in his tone is concerning.

“You know I never rush you.” You say as you continue to trace lines up and down his back.

“God no! no! I wasn’t talking to you love.”

“Oh...” It was still weird knowing Marc was present sometimes. You haven't been intimate with him obviously not wanting to cross a line with Layla. You were with Steven and she was with Marc. You’ve been on a few dates with Jake but his shyness prevented him from fronting too often.

“I…well we have been meaning to talk to you about something.” You can sense his more than normal nervous behavior. “It’s about Layla.” You have been dreading this moment for months, the conversation you knew would come when she grew tired of sharing. She married Marc and later became established with Steven and Jake but according to Steven he’s not been with her since you met on your first day at the museum.

Surprisingly you took to his confession of having D.I.D very well. It took him several more weeks to reveal they are moon knight to which you also took in stride. It was the follow up conversation about the fact that he was technically married that you didn’t take lightly. It took you a week of reflection and a long conversation with Layla to convince you to give him another chance. No one has ever treated you like Steven and you didn’t want to give that up.

Steven often stayed at your place to give Layla her space, you knew she missed him but she always respected your relationship. When they were off doing khonshus bidding you would often have a girls night with Layla. Recently you weren’t sure how to grapple with the feelings you’ve been having towards her. You haven’t felt this way about a woman in a long time. There was no need to further complicate your already intricate relationship.

“Um…Steven, if I need to talk to Marc I would prefer we get cleaned up and put some clothes on.”

“Sorry love I didn’t mean to worry you, he’s not here anymore.” You relax a little but can’t help but worry about the impending conversation. He climbs off you and you shudder at the sudden change in temperature, no longer having his body as a barrier to the cool air in your flat.

“Let me run us a bath and we can talk while we get cleaned up.” The prospect of a relaxing bubble bath with your boyfriend would normally have you on cloud nine, but you’d rather not have such an uncomfortable conversation in such an intimate setting.

“Steven, if you’re going to break up with me I’d rather you do it now,I can just take a shower when you leave.” Your legs are curled underneath you and all you can do is stare at the rumpled sheets desperately trying to keep the tears at bay.

“What!” Steven is standing in the doorway of the bathroom wide eyed and horrified at your assumption.

I told you not to bring it up after sex, she’s too vulnerable right now.

“Will you buzz off Marc!” Steven strides towards you and is back on the bed in moments. He bunches you up with the sheets and pulls you into his lap sideways. “ I’m not breaking up with you

Love, I just have something I need to talk to you about and I am a bit nervous.” You look up at him with tears brimming your eyelids and you can all but see his heartbreak.

He cradles your head and kisses you slowly as if it’s your first time. “This is not at all how I wanted this conversation to go.” He stands from the bed with you still in his arms and carries you to the bathroom. He gently sets you down on the toilet as he begins to draw a bath. You can’t help but admire his arms and his broad back as he leans over to test the temperature of the water. He places your favorite lavender bath bomb and chamomile bubble bath in before unraveling you from the sheets and helping you into the bath. You’re enveloped in that warm fuzzy feeling as he finds his place behind you pulling your back into his chest.

“I’m just gonna start and I don’t want you to say anything until I let you know I’m done.” You nod your head and you’re thankful you’re not facing him as the tears begin to well again.

“Layla has…really enjoyed your company lately when we’re out.” He pauses and tightens his grip around your waist. “She said it helps her not worry about us so much.”

“I enjoy her company to Steven.” You know he told you not to speak yet but you figured he needed a moment to gather his thoughts.

“She’s actually grown quite fond of you and thought that you might feel the same about her.”

A long silence passes between you and all you can hear are the ragged breaths of Steven and the crackling of the bubbles. You don’t think Stevens even realized that he hasn’t said he’s done speaking and is waiting for you to respond.

“Of course if you don’t feel the same then we don’t need to mention it again, I’m sorry I even brought it up. It's just that Marc pressed on about it…and actually he’s quite fond of you too and well that’s besides the point…I don’t even know what I’m saying any…”

You turn in the bath and stop his rambling with a kiss to his lips as you cradle his face in both hands.

You rise in the water so you can settle yourself in his lap. You lean in to kiss him again and he parts his lips to let your tongue slide in. This slow languid movements leave you both breathless as you pull away for air and can’t help but giggle at his face covered in bubbles.

“I thought Layla had grown sick of this situation and wanted you to end things with me.” He begins to say something but you place a finger on his lips, prompting him to wait just as you had.

“I am still getting to know Marc and Jake but obviously I can’t help but be attracted to someone who looks like my boyfriend.” You know Steven would accept all parts of you but it still made you nervous to open up to him.

“Steven…I’ve been with women before you, but I never wanted to make you uncomfortable. I’ve grown to like Layla a lot and I wasn’t sure how to come to terms with my feelings.” Steven releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“That’s wonderful love…Layla was quite nervous that you wouldn’t feel the same and she didn’t want to pressure you.” Steven is beaming up at you as if you’ve presented him a million dollar grant to research Egyptian mythology. “You know I love and accept you for who you are.”

You’re suddenly feeling exposed as the bubbles dissipate and your mind starts wandering. What does this mean? What does she want? He said something about Marc. Would Jake be involved? Would Steven be upset?

He can see you spiraling before his eyes. “Talk to me love.” He starts rubbing soothing circles on your arms.

“Where do we go from here?” You don’t even recognize your voice as you look anywhere but his eyes. He grabs your chin with his forefinger and thumb and pulls you into a chaste kiss.

“Whatever you want to do we will do…no

pressure.We all want you and what’s best for you, as long as you’re safe and happy that’s all we care about.” You wrap your arms around his neck in a tight hug, feeling this most content you have in years.

Nice job hermaño, I knew you could do it.

***

Friday

You’ve never been this nervous before to just have dinner with Layla. This was something you did every week while the boys were out but this time felt different. You’ve torn your room apart looking for the right thing to wear, finally opting for a simple blue babydoll dress with a flowy skirt. You wear your hair in its natural state and put on some light makeup to complete the look.

It’s just dinner, relax

You’re standing in front of the door of their shared flat trying to calm your nerves as you smooth down the front on your skirt. You can already smell the wonderful aroma wafting under the door as you begin to knock. Layla opens the door and pulls you into a hug but you’re apprehensive to hug her back act normal.

“Hey hon, come on in, I'm just finishing up the pizza.” You enter the flat and set the bottle of red wine you brought on the counter and take in the sight of delicious homemade pizza.

“I’m making Marc’s favorite for you, he insisted.” She looks up from placing the toppings to wink at you. Why did he insist?

“Oh…everything smells wonderful.” You’re standing nervously at the kitchen island fidgeting with the hem of your dress. “I brought some wine,would you like me to pour you a glass?”

“I’d love some, you know where the glasses are.” She points absentmindedly to the cabinet behind her while she finishes topping the pizza. You pour two glasses for the both of you and once she places the pizza in the oven all attention is on you.

“How has work been? Steven said you’ve had to put in some late night shifts.” You’re staring at her wine stained lips and the curls that frame her face. How does she always look so effortlessly beautiful? She has an inquisitive look on her face and you realize you haven’t answered her.

“Umm…it’s been fine, I’m sure you know how much of a pain Donna can be.” You're focused on the wine in your glass instead of her piercing gaze.

“Hey…I can tell you’re nervous and I know Steven talked to you. Nothing has to change. I just wanted you to know how I felt.” It makes her heart swell noticing you’ve put more effort into your appearance than you normally do for your weekly dinner.

“I don’t know why I’m so nervous…I care about you a lot and I want to do this right.” She takes your hand in hers and you finally look up and meet her eyes. Neither of you say anything, whatever is happening between you can go unspoken for now.

You both finally relax into a comfortable calm as you eat Pizza and finish the bottle of wine. As the night progresses it feels more and more like how things are supposed to be. Conversation flows freely as you both relax on the couch gossiping about work or sharing your thoughts about the boys.

“I know they look different but Marc and Steven both get that furrowed brow when they’re focused.” She shifts on the couch to face you mimicking that stern look they get. You burst into a fit of laughter at the accuracy.

“Okay but have you seen Jake's serious face?” You squint your eyes and muster up the best version of Jake that you can manage. She leans in close,her lips just a breath away.

“That face is much more adorable than Jake's.” Suddenly you're feeling hot,neither of you pulling away from your close proximity. The tension that’s been building for months is threatening to burst as you wait for her next move.

“Can I kiss you?” She’s practically touching your lips when she asks and you wish she would just do it but you know it’s in her nature to wait for you.

“Yes please.” In a moment her lips are on yours as her hands caress your neck and trail down your jaw. It’s like nothing you’ve ever felt before, feverish in the way her lips slot against yours. She pulls away and you chase her lips with your eyes closed and lips parted trying to catch your breath.

She brushes her thumb along your bottom lip and looks at you as though you hold the world in your eyes. “Your lips are so soft.”

“Do it again please.” The desperation in your voice is unfamiliar but she doesn’t hesitate to oblige your request as her lips crash into yours, you part your lips to allow her tongue to slide in as you moan into her mouth. She pulls you slightly into her lap as you straddle her thigh. Your lips move in tandem as she grabs your waist. You can feel your panties soaked as she grinds your clit over her jeans.

“Sweetheart…you gonna come like this, I’ve barely touched you?” You’re a panting mess as your climax approaches and she doesn’t relent as she trails kisses down your neck,leaving love bites along the way. She moves one hand from your waist and slowly starts trailing your inner thigh. Her fingers dance along the hem of your underwear almost reaching where you need it the most.

The floorboard creaks and you both halt your movements. You look up from the couch and see Mr. Knight standing near the window, the moon still illuminating him in his stark white suit. He’s masked and you can’t see the expression on his face but his chest is heaving and you can’t help but notice the growing bulge in the front of his pants.

You slide off Layla suddenly embarrassed at the state she had you in. She grabs your hand before you can stand and sends you a reassuring squeeze.

“Steven…care to join?” She says in this sweet honey tone. Yet he doesn’t falter, as if he’s frozen to the spot.

Steven move your goddamn feet or I’m taking over the body.

Snapped from his trance Steven begins to walk towards the couch. He takes a seat beside you so that you're situated in between them. He’s yet to reveal his face but his demeanor is definitely your Steven as he begins rubbing soothing circles on your thighs. The combined touch of their hands is all too real and this is territory you’ve never covered before.

“Are you okay with this Love?” Steven is always the observer making sure that this is truly what you want. You slowly nod your head.

“I need you to use your words honey.” You turn your head to Layla and the pet name she’s used many times before holds more weight in this moment.

“Yes this is okay…as long as Steven is…”

“Yes I’m great love this is perfectly alright.”He cuts you off before you can finish. You can’t help but giggle at his sudden burst of enthusiasm.

“Steven…why don’t you give her a kiss to calm her nerves.” Steven grabs your chin between his thumb and forefinger and gently tilts your face to him. He withdraws his mask and you can see his pupils blown wide. He kisses you softly as though it’s just the two of you in the room. Two sets of hands are on you as Layla leans against your back leaving hot kisses along your neck.

A soft hand trails up your inner thigh as another cups your breast over your dress. You kiss and bite at Stevens neck as you palm his erection through his pants. He whimpers in your ear as he bucks his hips into your hand. A soft finger pulls your panties to the side and rubs along your slick folds. You drop your head to Stevens shoulder gripping his arms for purchase. She dips two fingers dip into your entrance and you whine into his neck as you begin to rock your hips.

“You’re doing so good for us sweetie.” Layla coos in your ear. She withdraws her fingers from you and you whine at the loss. She holds her fingers up to Stevens lips and taps on them lightly, he takes both fingers in his mouth never breaking eye contact as rolls his tongue around coming off with a loud pop.

“Tastes so good love…why don’t you let her have a taste hmm.” Your brain is short circuiting at the sight. “Yes.” It’s all you can manage with your voice barely above a whisper.

“I think the bed would be better for that…don’t you think?” She says as she takes your hand to stand. Your body is no longer in your control, you can’t feel your legs beneath you but you know you’re moving towards the bedroom. Layla at your front and Steven close behind.

Steven retracts his suit and begins to undress when you enter the room. Leaving him only in his boxers, you can see the strain of his cock against the fabric where a wet spot has formed.

“I think you two are a bit overdressed.” He stands at your back pulling your straps down your shoulders letting your dress fall to the floor revealing your green matching lace set. He moves behind Layla pulling her shirt over her head as you work on the button of her jeans. He slides down her pants and kisses her shoulder when he stands.

This is so not fair

Callate pendejo

Steven does his best to block out the sounds of his head mates but doesn’t shut them off completely. He wants them to see this.

“Lay down against the pillows Steven.” He lays down on the bed with his legs spread wide and his hands at his side. She directs you to lay against him facing her while she sits between your legs. You're shaking from the anticipation and he begins rubbing soothing lines up and down your arms giving you goosebumps. She grabs the hem of your underwear and gently lifts your hips to slide them down.

“Is she always this wet for you?” She smirks at him as she drops her head down between your legs, licking a stripe through your slit. You arch your back at the sensation and Steven moans as you press further into his hard cock. He pulls your knees back to hold your legs open as she dips her tongue into your slick heat. Your whimpers and moans of her name are muffled as Steven swallows them with his mouth on yours.

“She does taste good.” She rocks back on her heels and pulls you up into a kiss. You can taste yourself on her lips as she dips her tongue into your mouth. You start to slide your hand beneath the band of her panties but she stops you.

“Tonight is about you sweetheart.” She’s definitely in control and you decide not to push. “Take off your boxers.” Steven practically rips them trying to get them off as his cock springs free slapping against his abdomen. You don’t think you’ve ever seen it so big, the angry red tip leaking precum all over his stomach.

She coaxes you back to lean against him and grabs the base of his cock causing him to gasp. She drags the tip along your dripping folds and Steven lifts you slightly as he guides you down onto him.

“Oh fuck…Steven it’s too much.” He’s not even all the way in and from this angle he’s hitting something devastating inside you. “Shhh love you can take it just relax.” Your cunt flutters around his thick cock causing a guttural moan from him. She straddles you both and you sink to the hilt. She places her hands on Stevens chest as she rides you grinding her hips into yours. Your mind has gone numb as she fucks you into Steven, each roll of her hips catches on your clit and slides you up and down his length.

“M’so close.” Steven chokes out from behind you as his grip tightens on your hips and his pelvis bucks slightly. She reaches between your bodies and begins rubbing tight circles on your clit as she leans in close and kisses Steven. He picks up his pace slamming you down on his cock over and over as he arches his back lifting the both of you.

“Right. There. Please . Don’t. Stop.” Each word is punctuated by a thrust and you come undone; she grabs your face, pulling you into an awkward three way kiss. Every nerve in your body is alight as she doesn’t let up on your clit, you don’t know if this is the same orgasm or a second that has tears streaming down your face. You clench down on him as he comes with a loud groan shooting hot ropes of cum into your core.

“You did so good, sweetheart.” She kisses you deep as you try to control your cries and aftershocks.

As you come down from your high you realize you’ve been moved. You’re laying on your side facing Steven as Layla plants small kisses on the small of your back. Steven places a soft kiss to your sweat soaked forehead and rolls out of bed.

“I’ll be right back love.” He retreats to the bathroom as you hear the water running.

You turn to face Layla and she can see the worry on your face. “What’s wrong hon? Was this too much?”

“No it’s not that it’s just…you didn’t get very much attention and I feel bad.” She grabs your neck and pulls you into a soft kiss.

“There’s always next time.”

Next time

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated.

Happy pride 🏳️‍🌈

#fawpride2023 #steven grant x reader #moon knight #marc spector x reader #moon knight smut #layla el faouly x reader #layla el faouly x you #jake lockley x reader #layla el faouly x reader x Steven grant #moon knight x you #moon knight fanfiction #pride2023 #bisexual #moon knight x reader #steven grant

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babymetaldoll · 3 months ago

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Are you mine? - Chapter 1: I'm a puppet on a string

A/N: Ok guys, here we go! Thank you all for your love and support, and most of all, for waiting for this last book. Summary: We are starting on season 15 for a little sneak peak of our lovebirds getting ready for their last day at the BAU. Spencer and his cherie have been married for some time now, and things are going great, until they don't, as they usually do. Let's join for a big flashback and understand all that happened from season 9 to season 15 that lead them to their last day at the BAU. Word count: 7.680 words. Warnings: Alcohol consumption, fluff, angst, confusion and babies.

Series' Masterlist - Author's masterlist

Next chapter

Spencer's point of view

Thomas Merton once wrote, "Love is our true destiny. We do not find the meaning of life by ourselves alone. We find it with another."

Life has never been this good, not like this. I know I haven't slept well in over seven years, due to the constant demands of parenthood, but I don't mind. In fact, I think I love it. I was not a good sleeper before becoming a dad if we are sincere. But waking up ten times every night to change diapers, check for monsters under the bed, or scoot over and allow my kids to sleep next to me, kicking my ribs for the entire night has never been a problem. Because they are my babies, and I would do anything for my kids.

I no longer have every night during the week to bury my head in hundreds of books. I haven't read more than a few every week since Raven was born, seven years ago. Now, my evenings are filled with baby rambles and kids' voices as we play games and read bedtime stories.

My kids. I never thought I could ever say those words. And now look at me, father of three healthy, bright, and beautiful kids. Not even in my wildest dreams I ever imagined being alive could be so fulfilling. Now I have an honest reason to be a better person every day. My babies. My wife. My family. They are my whole life.

I have everything I ever dreamt of: me and (Y/N) have been married for almost nine years. Nine years of waking up next to her, good morning kisses, and cuddles. I still find it hard to believe that she is my wife. The love of my life. The woman I would die for. Just ask me and I will give up everything for her safety and happiness. Yes, as cheesy as it sounds. And with our career choice, a decision that we've had to make more times than we imagined.

Our eldest daughter, Raven Marie, turned seven this year. She is bright and cheerful. She is just like her mother: a natural leader and the light of my day. Vincent is four years old, and he was born an artist. He loves painting and drawing, especially on the walls when no one is watching. We enjoy our trips to the museum together, even more if we get ice cream afterward. And baby Matilda is just three months old. I love holding her in my arms as she sleeps safe and sound. It makes the whole world stop. And the way her big brown eyes stare at me, I swear she can understand every word I say. The three of them make me feel loved in a way I never even imagined.

We live in a beautiful house just outside town, which is perfect for raising our family. It has a large backyard where our kids can play. It even has a tree, so I plan to build a treehouse next summer, probably with Mikey's and Frank's help.

This is everything I always dreamed of and never thought I could have. That is why (Y/N) and I decided we would never let anything jeopardize what we have accomplished. There is nothing more important to us than our babies.

That is why it's time to leave the BAU for good.

Today is our last day as Supervisory Special Agents with the FBI. And though I always thought if this day ever came, I would be devastated, I'm looking forward to this new stage in our lives. As long as we have each other, everything is going to be ok.

I roll in bed and stare at my darling wife asleep beside me. I take in all her features, nose, and closed eyes fluttering occasionally. There are a few gray hairs already showing, stressing her out. I find them sexy if you ask me. We are already 39 years old, I have a few gray hairs myself. My wife's skin looks so soft, so tempting. I wanna mark her mine again, leaving sweet bruises from her neck to her breasts, which are almost exposed underneath her pajamas. The hickies I did last week are barely visible anymore.

But before I get into action to wake (Y/N) with hot kisses all over her body, sweet blabbing sounds coming from the small crib next to our bed catch my attention. Our baby girl is already awake. It's still too early for Matilda to open her eyes, so I roll in bed and hold my baby daughter, rocking her in my arms as we walk around the room.

- "Good morning, Jelly Bean."- I whisper and kiss her forehead- "Thank you for almost letting us sleep through the night last night. Your mom and I have a decisive day today."- Tilly stares at me with her big chocolate eyes and smiles as her tiny finger holds mine tight.

- "Yes baby. Today is your parent's last day working at the BAU, after over fifteen years of service for your mom and seventeen for me."

The words should shock me, or maybe even cause angst or pain. But nothing could be farther from the truth. I'm excited to become a full-time professor at Georgetown, come home every night, and spend time with my kids. No more travels unless they are on vacation, no more chasing psychopaths. I'm ready to leave that life behind me and take care of my loved ones daily.

I walk around the house, enjoying how it's still silent. Holding Tilly close against my chest, I open Vincent's door and watch him sleeping on his little bed. I walk over and cover him with his blanket, knowing in about forty minutes he will be running downstairs, demanding breakfast. Today is hotcakes Friday, I could start the batter and get the coffee ready after I put an eye on the kids.

I head to Raven's room and find her awake. She is sitting on her bed, holding her teddy bear hidden behind Moby Dick.

- "Birdie, what are you doing awake? it's six in the morning"- I whisper as I walk over to her and she widens her eyes, clearly busted.

- "Sorry dadda. I just woke up. I swear."

- "What happens when we don't get enough REM sleep?"- I ask her as I sit by her side, and take her book from her tiny hands.

- "It interferes with memory formation, altering my learning process."

- "Very good. So if you know why you must have nine hours of sleep, why are you awake so early?"- my older daughter giggles and hides underneath her blanket for a moment. I wait for her to show me her face one more time as she whispers.

- "I wanted to know what happened to the giant whale."

- "But this is our bedtime story, Raven. We have to read it together every night."- I try to look serious, but frankly, I feel so proud. I love being able to share my passion for reading with my daughter. Raven fixes her pillow underneath her head and covers herself with her purple blanket.

- "But I'm no longer sleepy, dadda."

- "Just close your eyes for a bit, Birdie. Try to rest and I'll make breakfast. I'll call you when the food is ready, ok?"

- "Can we read two chapters tonight, dadda? Please?"- she looks at me with pleading eyes as I place the book back on her bedside table.

- "Only if you get some more sleep now, ok?"

- "Fine... good night dadda... or is it good morning already?"- I chuckle and kiss her forehead.

- "If you are going to sleep, we still say good night, birdy."

Sometimes I'm sure I'll wake up alone at my old apartment, all this would have been a dream. I never imagined I would love something or someone more than I loved my work. The FBI was my life for so long. But this, my babies, my wife sleeping safe and sound in our house, that means more than anything I could ever achieve at the bureau.

(Y/N)'s point of view

I wake up in bed and immediately feel the cold, empty space beside me, and I don't like it. I'm used to waking up with the warmth of Spencer's arms around me or any of my kids hovering over the covers or sleeping on me. But not today. Today, I am alone on this gigantic bed, and neither my children nor my husband are in sight.

The sweet sound of my kids' laughter somewhere in the house and the smell of hotcakes catches my attention in a second. I could get used to waking up like this. No text warning me that we have to catch a serial killer. No one is trying to hurt my family. No psycho plotting to ruin our lives. Just us in our house, living our sweet dreams.

The last couple of years have been rough, to call it somewhat. Everything we ever tried to avoid from working at the BAU hit us. For a moment it felt like everything that could go wrong, did. And when I say "everything", I mean it. But I don't wanna think of those dark times, I don't wanna start this last day with sorrow. I wanna start it with coffee, hotcakes, and sweet kisses from my babies.

- "Something smells extra good in here!"- I walk into the kitchen and find Spencer flipping hotcakes in a pan, as Raven and Vincent are sitting at the table, eating already and chatting nonstop. My husband smiles as I walk to him and kiss his lips sweetly.

- "How are you today Tilly?"- I whisper as I stare at her, she is asleep against Spencer's chest, in a baby wrap we got when Raven was born, and that my husband loves beyond life itself. Try to take it from him, it's impossible. He loves carrying our kids around in that thing. And when they are too old to fit in, he just carries them on his shoulders or arms all over.

- "One day they will be too big or too embarrassed to be seen like that with me"- he explained to someone, probably some of my aunts or cousins, who argued he was spoiling them rotten. - "And I wanna enjoy every chance I get before we reach that point in life."

Now, if you ask me, I don't think our kids will ever get tired of their dad. They love him too much.

- "Mama! dadda made chocolate chip hotcakes!"- Vinny is clearly running on sugar right now- "They are tasty!"

- "I'm sure they are! They smell delicious!"- I grab a cup and fill it with freshly made coffee- "Can I get you more coffee, hon?"

- "Yes, please ma cheriè."- I pour two cups and add sugar to my husband's as he prepares a dish with hotcakes and scrambled eggs for me and one for him as well.

- "Someone went an extra mile with this breakfast today. Thank you hon"- I kiss him again and take both dishes.

- "It's a special day. You deserve the best breakfast."

- "Well, I'm gonna cook you the best dinner then" - I wink at him and look at our kids- "Are you ready for school, Birdie?"

- "Yeah. I'm excited because in math we are starting to do multiplications! Finally!"- our daughter is honestly happy about math, which I know she didn't get from me.

- "Multiplications? Why were you looking forward to that?"- Spencer asks her, as I help Vinny cut his hotcakes.

- "Because Uncle Frank said we are good at multiplication in this family, so I wanna learn all about it."

I keep my poker face and nod at my oldest daughter, trying to pinpoint any kind of scenario where Frank might have said that to her. Spencer stares at me with wide-open eyes as he clears his throat and sips his coffee.

- "Yeah, math is really fun!"- that's all I can say- "Which is your favorite subject, Vinny?"

- "Art"- I am not shocked.

- "Are you planning on making a new drawing for my desk?"- Spencer asks our son, who takes a few seconds to reply and gives him an honest answer.

- "No, Aunty Lu asked me to do one for her fridge, because her baby can't draw anything yet."- I smile and nod.

- "We should work on that drawing this weekend then."- I say to my boy and kiss the top of his head. I love that my kids know Lu, Frank, and Mikey are also family.

Lu got married a few years ago and last month she had her first baby. I haven't seen her in a few weeks because things have been crazy for both of us, but we text daily. A lot has changed, but our friendship remains the same. Mikey got married as well, to a girl he met at work. They have been together for five years and have a baby girl. I have never seen him this happy before, and it fills my heart with joy to know he is living the life he always dreamed of.

Meanwhile, Frank is still single. Not shocking news, I know. He has a steady girlfriend though, and they are very happy. He and Tarah have been together since Spencer and I got married, and they have the cutest dogs and cats I've ever seen.

- "Ok kids, let's get ready for school."- I put the dishes in the sink and watch our kids run upstairs. Spencer smiles as he finishes his last sip of coffee and I walk to him to take Tilly in my arms.

- "I'm gonna get this little lady ready to spend the day with Nana Sofia so you can take a quick shower, ok?"

- "Thank you, ma cherie."

- "No, thank you for breakfast, Daddy."- I whisper and kiss his coffee-tasting lips as he stares at me, raising an eyebrow subtly. I am teasing him, and I know it. But I can't help it. I love it when he stares at me with those hungry eyes.

- "We have some extra time, in case you wanna join me in the shower."- Spencer whispers and stands in front of me, wrapping his arms around mine, and moving his hands up and down my back, underneath my pajamas.

- "Mom!!"- Raven yells from upstairs- "Vinny got back into his bed and said he won't go to school today!"

- "Hold that thought until tonight."- I sigh and peck his lips- "Take that shower while I get the kids ready."

- "Fine, but you owe me, Mrs. Reid."- I chuckle at his words and shake my head, walking out of the kitchen with our baby secure in my arms.

- "Dr. Reid, I'm keeping count, and as far as I remember, you owe me, big time."

Spencer's point of view

As I drive to our last day at work after dropping the kids at school and Tilly with (Y/N)'s mom, I start to do the math of how many times I've driven us to work in the last few years. Plus all the times I took the subway to get there, before we got married. I know during all those times I never imagined how the last time would feel like. I never even imagined this day would ever come until Raven was born. Ever since I knew she was coming, I seriously considered dropping the life I knew to do anything else. Something that didn't include putting my and my wife's life in danger daily.

After we got married, (Y/N) and I spent a few years trying to catch up with all the time we wasted not confessing our feelings. There wasn't much left to know about each other that we didn't deal with being friends, but being a couple was a completely different thing. Our job came with certain unconventional situations, to call it somewhat. Like the day I realized how badly I wanted to be a dad, after delivering a baby in front of an unsub.

It happened almost eight years ago, not long before we discovered we were going to become parents for the first time. I remember I was out for a drink with Rossi, who had taken very seriously his job to help me transition from a single man with no clue about dates, to a man married to the woman of his dreams.

That night he took me to one of his favorite bars, which apparently had seen better days. It was old, dirty, and mostly empty, except for a very old guy singing karaoke at the back of the room, and some regulars.

- "That's where I saw Carolyn for the first time."- Dave pointed at a table in a corner, where a guy seemed to have passed out. I widened my eyes and looked at him, not impressed.

- "No offense, Rossi, but this place is kind of a dump."- of course, he was offended.

- "Oh, back then it wasn't."- he argued and tried to sell me the place - "Back then, the biggest names would come here: Creedence, The Eagles, Chicago. It was a Marine bar. They played for us jarheads."

- "What was Carolyn doing here?"- I asked, trying to focus on the story and not on the number of bacteria in every glass in that bar.

- "Waiting for Ringo."- Rossie replied as I stared at him surprised. - "Beatlemania was no joke. I mean, it would make the women crazy. She'd write them a letter once a week, begging the band to come visit."

I smiled thinking that sounded like something (Y/N) might have done as well, though instead of writing letters, she would tweet her favorite band and spam them with messages begging for a show in town.

- "Did they ever come?"- I asked and Rossi nodded, with a smile.

- "Ringo did, after his divorce. But luckily, Carolyn met me first. But that's how we all became friends."- I was about to add something when the waitress arrived with our second round.

- "Devil honey for Dave and a light beer for the kid."- I smiled at her and whispered a shy thank you as she left the bottle in front of me. I was about to sip it when the sound of a text message coming from David's phone reminded me duty ruined most of our fun times.

- "Oh, on second thought, Helen... it's Garcia."- Rossi announced and looked at me.

- "So much for a night off."- I sighed and left the bottle back on the table, untouched.

- "You better bring us the bill."

- "Ok. That'll be 10 bucks."- the waitress replied quickly, and I moved to grab my wallet, but David stopped me.

- "No, you can charge us for the drinks we didn't have. Drinks are on me, kid."

- "Everything's marked down until it's all gone."- the waitress announced and showed us a banner announcing Rossi's favorite place was closing in a few days.

- "Oh, you can't close! This place is history!"- he argued immediately, shocked by the news.

- "Unfortunately, Dave, history doesn't pay the bills."- Helen, the waitress, replied and shook her head as Rossi sighed, defeated.

- "Marines used to be big business!"- he said and looked at me, I don't know if waiting for words of support or just trying to convince me.

- "Still are. That's why three new bars opened up across the street."- Helen explained and then asked- "What's that thing they say about competition?"

- "It breeds success?"- I told her, but she cut me off.

- "It sucks."

- "Well..."- Rossi stood up and I followed, grabbing my jacket- "Keep the change."

- "Thank you, Dave."- Helen smiled and looked at him for a few seconds, giving him a knowing look, and then walked away.

- "I hate to see this place go."- Rossi said to me as he stood there, staring around him at all the memories he had in that place. I tapped on his shoulder and walked out of the bar.

- "We could come back again after we solve this case."- I suggested, trying to cheer him up. - "Bring the rest of the team, enjoy one last drink here. I'm sure (Y/N) and García would love to hear all the stories this place has."

When we reached the BAU that night, (Y/N) was already there with Blake, García, and Hotch. I walked toward my wife and held her hand.

- "Ma cherié, did you get to enjoy your evening at home?"- I whispered and she sighed.

- "I prepared the perfect bathtub, got myself a glass of wine, and I had a brand new book to enjoy. And it all went to waste."- she pouted and I ran my thumb down her cheek a few times, caressing her soft skin.

- "I'm sorry, chipmunk."- the rest of the team joined us in the briefing room, which forced us to be professional and move from each other a little bit- "We could take a bath together after we solve this case."

- "That sounds so nice." - (Y/N) sighed and smiled at me. - "How was your night out with Rossi?"- she asked as we sat around the table in the briefing room.

- "We had fun, we have to go to the bar he took me"

- "Was it good?"

- "No, actually it was old and dirty, but it's his favorite and it's closing."- she chuckled as Rossi turned to me, from the other side of the table, looking absolutely offended.

- "It's a very respectable place! You are lucky you visited it!"

- "That's why I'm telling my wife we should go!"- I replied, doing my best not to laugh. I knew he was affected by the closing news.

- "And we will, you don't have to tell me twice."- (Y/N) said quickly- "If there is booze and Rossi approves, I'm dying to go."

That case was in Boston, a psychotic was on the loose and had already killed three men and stolen their wallets. Though nothing tied the victims together, our guy was on a mission, and it was more likely to strike again before we got there.

We were already in the jet, going through the briefs and trying to find anything that could lead us to find this guy quickly.

- "We need to determine where he's finding his victims."- Hotch said, and I locked eyes with my wife, who was sitting next to me.

- "Geographically speaking, none of the victims live near one another, but they were all killed downtown, which is where the unsub likes to operate."- I said as she nodded, but before (Y/N) could say something, Blake commented.

- "That fits with where Maxford works, but not with the other two victims."

- "His area of control, while relatively small, includes a number of residential and commercial buildings."- I started rambling out loud.

- "Can you do the math that might help us?"- my wife suggested.

- "Well, factoring in a 3-mile radius in a city with a population of 636, 479 over 48.28 miles, we're looking at approximately 39,549.23 people living in his comfort zone."- I blurted out and (Y/N) kept staring at me with a sweet smile, as the rest of the team looked at each other like I was a freak.

- "How many of them are male?"- Morgan asked me and I replied in a blink.

- "18.944,08."

- "Garcia, start with the victim's known associates."- Hotch commanded as I felt (Y/N)'s hand on mine, intertwining our fingers.

- "Your brain is so fucking hot"- my wife whispered and I chuckled, embarrassed- "I love hearing you do math on anything."

- "Never let her go, kid"- Rossi overheard her words and smiled at us. I guess so did JJ, 'cos she looked at us with a funny stare in her eyes before standing up and walking to the kitchen to get herself a cup of tea.

Our guy was Tanner Johnson, and he was in fact, on a mission. He wanted to gain his ex-wife's trust back again to prove to her that he could take care of her and her new baby after their 10-year-old Jeremy had died. He wanted to be a good father, and in a way to protect everybody who lived under his roof, he started killing people who he thought were a bad influence for them and even kept a scrapbook, filled with proof of his murders.

I remember being in a van with Morgan, on our way to Mrs. Johnson's house, where she was being kept against her will by our unsub. (Y/N) was with JJ and Blake in another van, as Rossi and Hotch stayed back at the station, watching the surveillance cameras Tanner kept, still streaming everything that was happening in his old family home.

We just made it in time before Mrs. Johnson had the baby, and I was glad for once I had memorized all of the delivery manuals I had come across when JJ was pregnant, just in case she went into labor on the field.

- "Hannah, how far apart are your contractions?"- I put my gun down as I stood in front of Mrs. Johnson and Tanner, who had a knife against her throat. Morgan kept pointing at him, but I knew he didn't have a clean shot.

- "They're constant!"- the poor woman in labor screamed in pain. I looked at Derek and shook my head. I knew I had to do something quickly.

- "The baby's coming now!"- I announced the obvious, knowing the entire team was listening, and hoped for the best.

- "Look, man, your baby is about to be born. Now, we want to help you, but you need to put that weapon down."- Morgan tried to dialogue with Tanner, but it was impossible. He wasn't going to cooperate.

- "No! This is my child! I'm not leaving it!"- the unsub shouted, so I slowly moved closer, put on a pair of gloves, and took a deep breath staring at Mrs. Johnson, trying to get her to mimic my breathing.

- "Hannah, I need you to breathe deeply. Breathe deeply."-

I kneeled in front of her and did my best to look as confident as possible, though deep down I was so freaked out I was hoping I wasn't going to keep any memories of that moment.

- "Hannah, I need you to start pushing..."- I whispered, but she refused.

- "I can't."

- "Yes, you can, baby, just like with Jeremy."- the unsub tried to help, but she didn't want anything from him.

- "This is not helping!"- Hanna mumbled under her breath, she was in so much pain that I knew I had to find a way to get him away from her as soon as possible.

- "Tanner, you need to let her go. The stress isn't good for the baby. If Hannah doesn't start pushing now we could lose the child."- I commanded him, but he kept the knife against her neck and refused to move.

- "I have to watch him. I have to keep him safe."- he argued and stared at me as if I was a threat to the baby's security.

- "Like you did with Ashley?"- Derek caught his attention, which left me focused on the baby.

- "That was an accident. I didn't mean to."- Tanner mumbled

- "I know you didn't. Accidents happen. What happened with Jeremy was an accident, right?"- Derek continued talking, and I knew he had hit a very sensitive string in the unsub. It could only help us or put the baby's safety in jeopardy.

- "If I'd have been there I could have helped him."- Tanner was taken by those words and his whole shift. That was the key to helping Hanna. So I took advantage of his concern.

- "Guys, something's wrong."- I tried my best to look convincing. - "The umbilical cord is wrapped around the baby's throat."- I didn't want to trouble Hanna, but I had to do something.

- "No!"- Tanner yelled right away, as well as his poor wife.

- "Well, Reid, do something."- Morgan got it right away, and kept his eyes glued on Tanner as I continued lying.

- "I need something to cut the cord with, quickly!"

My words came as urgent as it was needed, and Tanner didn't hesitate to give me the knife to cut the cord. In two seconds, Morgan grabbed him and started taking him out of the room, as the unsub yelled and tried to fight back. Just then, (Y/N) walked in with JJ and Blake, and she quickly kneeled next to me.

- "Don't worry, Hannah, your baby's doing fine, but you need to keep pushing. Ready?"

- "Medics are on their way."- my wife announced, but I shook my head and continued doing my work.

- "We can't risk moving her now. We'll have to deliver the baby here."

- "Oh, God!"- Hanna yelled and (Y/N) quickly held her hand after putting a pillow underneath her back.

- "It's gonna be ok, Hanna, trust him, he is a doctor."- I looked at my wife for a second and though I knew she meant it as words of reassurance for the victim, they worked for me as well.

- "Come on! squeeze her hand as hard as you can and push"- I said and watched her struggle to do it.

- "Oh, I can't. I can't."

- "Yes, you can! You're doing great!"- (Y/N) said and rubbed Hanna's hand on her- "You are amazing!"

- "Yes! you're doing great. I can see the head! Keep pushing! Keep pushing!"

It didn't take much for the baby to come out. I held him in my hands, (Y/N) helped me cut the umbilical cord, and we wrapped him in a blanket that was lying around on a couch. Medics arrived and took care of Hanna while my wife held the newborn with tears in her eyes.

- "You are amazing Spencer."- she whispered as the two of us kept our eyes on the baby- "I can't believe you just did that."

- "I wouldn't have done it without you, ma cherie."- I replied and kissed her temple.

- "You are not delivering our babies, by the way."- she said after a few seconds and chuckled- "I'm gonna need all the epidural they can give me."

And just like that, the thought was inside my brain like a disease that wouldn't stop spreading. It wasn't like I hadn't thought about having babies with (Y/N). I had imagined a future with her in many ways possible. And that was exactly the point: at that moment in our lives, it was possible. And the overwhelming amount of things that could go wrong was impossible to overlook. They were there each time I looked at her.

Ever since we got married, the possibility of having kids has been present in our lives. We weren't officially trying, but I knew it was something we were both thinking about. And for a moment, it was perfect. Until I remembered there was a chance our kids could inherit my mother's schizophrenia. I know that disease tends to run in families, and though studies show there is no single gene to be responsible, the possibility of having kids with that disease was real. And I knew I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I ever put (Y/N) through any painful situation.

So I tried not to bring the subject up after we came back home, and for a few days, it worked. Until, well, it didn't.

(Y/N)'s point of view

I knew there was something wrong with Spencer as soon as we hopped back into the jet from Boston. He delivered that baby and something triggered him. I didn't want to pressure him, so I acted like a good wife and let him process the events at his own pace. I assumed it had something to do with the whole experience of delivering that kid and the fact we had talked a few times about having our own little family, but probably that whole moment had been eye-opening for him.

What if he didn't want to have kids anymore? What if he wasn't as ready as I felt? I was ready to quit taking the pill. I wanted to start trying to get pregnant. I wanted a little Spencer to love and take care of. Teach them all the things I knew. Watch them grow... I was fully ready to be a mom, and somehow I was scared to bring it up to Spencer. I was afraid he didn't want to anymore.

And then, the team made sure to force us into the conversation the Friday night we were all out together. We were at Rossi's favorite marine bar, the one he had brought my husband earlier in the week. Penelope and I gathered a bunch of people from the FBI and invited them over to say farewell to a piece of Washington's history. We also told them Rossi was buying the drinks, which explains why it was packed.

- "So, let's toast"- I said and raised my glass. The entire team and my husband were there with me, to enjoy our free night- "To spend more evenings together with family."

- "And to Dr. Spencer Reid, who may be adding M. D. to an already impressive list of credentials."- Hotch added, looking at my husband, who blushed, embarrassed.

- "And to Spencer Johnson, may he prove to be the child prodigy like his namesake."- Derek added- "I'm shocked there is a kid named after you out there before you two even have your first baby."

I know I smiled because little Spencer was a very cute and healthy baby, and I was (and still am) proud my husband helped deliver him. But the guys didn't stop teasing us after that.

- "And when are we going to have baby geniuses running around the BAU?"- Garcia asked- "I am ready to start knitting and spoiling your kids!"

- "Yeah, I'm surprised you haven't knocked your wife up already!"- and Morgan was on board with the joke- "I mean, are you doing things properly?"

- "Stop!!"- I nearly covered my ears with my hands

- "Emily said she'd happily fly from London just to assist with the baby shower I'm throwing you."

- "Penelope, I am not even pregnant yet."- I tried to reason with her, but it was useless.

- "You just said so, yet. But you will. Please! you'd make the cutest little munchkins!"- Garcia stared at me pouting.

- "Come on, don't pressure them."- Hotch tried to be the voice of reason, but it was impossible.

- "I'm sure Henry would love having a little cousin"- JJ smiled at us and sipped her drink.

- "Come on! This night is not about us."- Spencer chuckled, clearly awkward with the conversation, and raised his glass of whisky- "To Dave Rossi!"- and luckily, everybody else followed.

- "I still can't believe you guys did this."- Dave was surprised the place was packed

- "We wanted to make sure you had one last proper goodbye."- I assured him and felt his arm around me.

- "Grazzie, carissima!"

- "And I may or may not have posted on the Quantico message boards that all the drinks are on you tonight."- Garcia confessed, making us all laugh, busted.

- "And they are, indeed. Thank you very much!"- Dave added and we all raised our glasses again. The guys continued talking, but Spencer's eyes captured my whole attention. He was staring at his hands, holding his glass. He seemed concerned about something he clearly was overthinking. So I let David's arm go and walked closer to my husband.

- "Are you ok?"- I whispered, resting my hand on top of his. He slightly jumped and looked at me, surprised.

- "Yeah, sorry. I zoned out a little. I'm exhausted."

- "Do you wanna go home?"

- "No, it's Rossi's night..."- Spencer smiled with his teeth, but not with his eyes.

- "The guys..."- but before I could continue talking, I felt JJ's hand grabbing me and my husband and crawling us to the stage.

- "Come on guys!! Karaoke time!"- she commanded, as she gave us a mic, and Rossi started singing Billy Joey's "Piano Man". I looked around me, chuckling, 'cos the whole scene was surreal. The entire FBI quarters was in that bar, drinking and singing along as my friends and I sang karaoke. And Hotch even made a video.

Spencer held my hand as he tried to read the lyrics of The Piano Man, and I stared at him remembering the day he proposed. That was one of the most romantic things he had ever done. And watching him sing karaoke in that bar brought me back a million memories. We had grown so much already, that I felt we were ready to take our relationship to the next level: parenting. But somehow, I was scared to ask my husband if he wanted to have a baby with me.

As the night progressed, and Penelope got drunker and drunker, she continued to ask us about kids. She was very excited and eager to become an aunt. Apparently, our baby geniuses were what her life was lacking. Rossi was pretty drunk too, he sang a lot of Sinatra and even dragged Hotch on stage with him for a duet. I had a few whiskeys myself trying to find the courage to face my husband, who had a few drinks as well but kept doing his best to mask the fact something was bothering him.

Until I couldn't stand it anymore.

- "Ok, come here."- I grabbed Spencer's hand and dragged him through the crowd. I heard Morgan teasing us but I paid little attention to what he said. I just looked for a quiet spot in that packed bar, which ended up being the alley outside and asked my husband.

- "What is hunting that pretty brain of yours?"- and he stared at me with wide-opened eyes, trying to come up with something to deny what was obvious to me.

- "How much did you drink, chipmunk? I'm ok."

- "No you are not, you haven't been ok since we came back from the last case. So come on, spit it. I don't wanna dance around this for days until we both do something stupid or say something hurtful. Just say it, what is eating you alive?"

Spencer stared at me and finished his drink- a light beer- his eyes were so sweet and yet filled with fear. What was so scary that he couldn't share with me?

- "I hate that you know me so well sometimes"- he whispered and looked down at his shoes

- "No you don't. You love it."- I teased him and smiled as I walked closer and rested my hands on his waist- "Come on honey bunny. You know you can tell me anything."

- "I know."

- "So? Are you gonna tell your wife what's wrong?"- I whispered and Spencer finally looked at me. His puppy eyes could melt the coldest heart, and make my knees shake.

- "Let me ask you this"- he whispered after a few seconds of a very deep silence- "When you married me, did you ever think that my family's illness history might affect our kids?"

I stared at him confused. Which was that illness' history he was talking about? As far as I knew, it was just his mother's schizophrenia. Was there something else he never told me about?

- "What?"- I simply asked and Spencer stared at me like the answer was obvious- "You mean Diana?"- he nodded and looked back at his feet again, embarrassed he brought it up.

- "I just... can't stop thinking I could never forgive myself if our kids inherit any of..."- he stopped talking and shook his head, unable to even finish that sentence.

- "Where is this coming from? Why are you thinking about these kinds of things?"

I held his hand and kissed it, his eyes were still glued to his feet, not moving. A few curls of hair fell down his forehead, giving him an angelic look.

- "I never even considered it, Spencer. Not even once. Every time I think about our kids, I dream of them running around, catching bugs, and eating cookies"- I tell him my truth. I never considered Diana's schizophrenia as something we could even think about when it came to our kids. Why should we? You can't predict any disease and fear was not going to stop me from having my own family.

Spencer held my left hand and kissed my ring finger, a sweet gesture he did quite often, especially when something was troubling him.

- "I would never forgive myself if any of them inherited a disease from me."- the way Spencer whispered those words, so slowly, so scared. It moved me.

- "Honey, you won't..."

- "I just don't want to ruin their life"- his eyes filled with tears and his voice broke. My husband was honestly concerned about something that we couldn't even control. And I knew that meant that idea was eating him alive.

I remember walking with him from the back alley of a bar to our car parked on the other side of the street. It was late and everyone at the party was already drunk, so I didn't bother saying goodbye or telling anyone we were leaving.

Spencer and I sat in the back seat of our car and I held both of his hands as he kept trying not to cry. His jaw was tightened and his eyes glassy. It made me feel so guilty. My husband had been chewing those torturous thoughts the entire week, and I had been blind enough to think he was merely second-guessing having kids with me.

- "Spencer, I need you to look at me."- I whispered and held a finger underneath his chin, forcing his eyes to focus on mine. He bit his lip as I did my best to remain calm.

- "This is important, so please give your entire attention and eidetic memory."- I tried to joke, but he didn't smile or even move his face as I spoke.

- "Ever since I realized I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you, there hasn't been a day where I haven't thought of how amazing it would be having kids with you."- I said, and tears started falling from his eyes as I spoke. I had to pause and rearrange my thoughts, because watching him so affected made me think I was doing something wrong.

- "And you know that was way before we even started dating. Which means I've dreamed about having kids with you for a long time. And never, and I mean never, the thought of them inheriting any kind of trait from either of us has made me second guess or reconsider my dreams. I want a family with you, Spencer Walter Reid. I want to have your babies. I want to carry your children, a lot of them, as many as we can."

My husband cried and sobbed as I wrapped my arms around him and held him close to me. I didn't know what to do or what to say next. I just wanted to take all the pain away from him.

- "I just... I just want to make you happy."- he mumbled against my neck as I kept running my fingers through his hair and trying my best to be the support he needed at that minute.

- "You already make me happy, Spencer."- I kissed his cheek, not moving an inch away from him- "And I know our kids will make me even happier."

- "I just wish I knew they are going to be healthy."

- "They will be."- I assured him, not giving it much thought.

- "But how do you know?"

- "You are gonna be their dad. You will never let anything bad happen to them."- I affirmed, though it sounded more like an order to fate. - "And I'm gonna be their mom, I will always take care of our babies."

- "You are not scared?"- he asked softly and looked at me with teary eyes.

- "The only thing that scares me to death is the idea of you not wanting to have babies with me."- I confessed, and though he was the one crying, I felt embarrassed sharing my deepest fear.

- "I want so many babies with you. I've thought about it since we met."- my husband answered, and for a second, he smiled at me- "I was scared to bring it up, but... I'm so ready to be a dad."

- "Then please, let me make you a dad."- I was so eager to change his mood and lift his spirits, that I was almost ready to do it right there, in the back seat of our car. His lips found mine, and we sealed our pack, as his arms wrapped me tight and held me close to him.

We were finally ready to start our little family.

Next chapter

#spencer reid #criminal minds #babymetaldoll writes #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #criminal mind fanfic #diwk #r u mine #spencer reid x fem!Bau!reader

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xiament3 · 1 year ago

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[𝐒ummary : Pete’s dreams finally come true, now earned everything he’s truly ever wanted.]

[𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭] [no, but I would love to be sent you’re requests]

[𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 1.32k 9 minutes read time]

⟣-----------------------❀------------------⟢

It wasn’t a secret that Pete wanted to have children, he had very publicly talked about it several times and I’m many interviews.

Still the idea was somewhat foreign to him but he knew what he wanted and he wanted kids with you.

“Hey babe” Pete started pausing the movie the two of you chose to watch for date night you both made it a point to have a date nice twice a month every month indefinitely.

When picking those dates you both took turns planning them last time you choose going to a museum, due to history being your favorite subject and you loved learning about thing and telling random fun facts.

Pete had chosen to stay in wanting to have you in his arms close at all times, so here you were watching the little mermaid on the couch with his arms wrapped, around your waists him laying on you’re belly and you’re back against the couch.

“Yeah, what’s wrong?” You said turning your full attention to the tall man on your stomach.

He gazed up at you grabbing hold of your hands playing with them showing his eyes gleaming nervously at you’re hands, his eyes bouncing before your hands and then at you.

“Well I don’t think it’s wrong but I’m not sure where you stand on it I mean I know but I don’t know if that was just talk or futuristic.” He rambled.

“Baby what is it?” You said cutting to the point but still finding his rambling abordable.

“Iwanttohavebabywithyousoonbutnow” he sputtered out quickly making you felt like your head was spinning at his pace.

“Okay say it slower, taking that fast you can’t possibly think I’d understand you.” You said reaching to give him a sip of you’re water, before he sat once again on you’re facing each other hands in hand.

“Okay?” You asked making him nod his head and sigh. “Now what did you say?” You asked him again turning you’re attention to him.

“Yeah, I want to have a baby with you and I feel like now would be a great time we’ve been married for a little bit we moved into this house and we have this extra space and backyard for kids and I’m directing mostly now so I’ll be able to be with you and not have to travel as much and…” he ranted deciding to let him finish his baby fever fueled rant.

“Yes,” you said stopping his rant right there quickly focusing on your face.

“Yes?” He repeated confused

“Yes, I would love to have a baby with you were both stable and healthy we do have the space. This would be the perfect time.” You agreed looking at him and not even a half of a second pasted before he was showering your face in kisses before picking you up kissing you all the way.

“Baby making time.” He said taking you up stairs to bed, bursting through your bedroom closing the door behind him before turning his attention to you on the bed.

Pouncing on you again he kissed all over your face.

“Baby, wait wait.” You related begin cut off by a kiss with each word.

Instantly Pete stopped sitting up

“I want to have a baby but I still need to make an appointment to get my IUD removed and it might take a little bit for my body to adjust.” You warned

“I know as long as I get to enjoy the process of the journey with you I’m okay.” He said kissing you rapidly this time with no interruptions.

The following Thursday you found yourself in a doctors appointment with a very excited Peter getting your birth control removed.

And then eight almost nine months later you found yourself in the early morning.

Suddenly feeling extremely sick rushing and pulling the covers off you waking Peter up in the process.

Emptying out your body in the toilet having Pete hold your hair back and rubbing your back comforting you best he could.

You didn’t want to assume immediately you were pregnant, twice before you had a false alarm and now you wanted to be sure before getting excited about the morning sickness.

After a doctors appointment it was confirmed.

“Mrs. Davidson you are in fact six weeks pregnant.” The doctor said dragging the Doppler across your jellied stomach.

She filled the screen around and there was your baby it was the size of a cherry seed but I brought tears to both of your eyes.

“I love you so much.” He said looking deeply into your eyes as he wiped the jelly off your belly and helped you stand up.

Ever since then Pete has been on cloud nine.

HIS POV

ever since I found out, you were making me a father I tried my best to make it as easy as possible.

I thought it would be hard having your body change constantly adapting to take care of our baby.

I wanted needed to do anything and everything to take the much off you as I can.

Crack of dawn cravings? Got it

Can’t fine anything to wear you feel comfortable in? I’ll buy you new clothes or you can have mine

Anything hurts? Feet, back, boobs I’ll massage it

Anything, as your due date was approaching and before you couldn’t travel I wanted to take you on a babymoon.

Settling on Punta Cana’s blue water beaches booking a beach villa, with you laying next to me sound asleep tried from the day and our daughter.

I can’t help but stare down at you and your belly holding the child I always wanted but never thought I’d get.

You’ve given me everything I could ask for marriage, love, understanding, support and now a baby girl to be named Aniline Amy Davidson.

Thanking nobody but you for making all of this a reality.

I drift off to sleep your back to my chest, my hands to your belly, and your hands together with mine.

⟣

Turning over away from the window, the sun blinding me trying to force me out of my sleep.

Feeling the bed for you only to come up empty, jumping up sleep long forgotten my eyes frantically darting around the room.

The bedroom, the bathroom, the kitchen, the living room and no sign of you. My eyes still darting around seeing the sliding glass door open running standing in the doorframe.

I saw you in a floral dress blowing through the breeze. Playing and swaying in the water.

Drawing closer behind you wrapping my arms around your belly swaying with you and the waves.

“Are you okay your heats racing I can feel it?” You asked me stare locked on me.

“I couldn’t find you this morning when I woke up I got scared and started running around trying to find y’all.” I confessed

Normally I probably would’ve gotten embarrassed about jumping that far off the bat but, with you I didn’t feel like I needed to hide or be embarrassed about anything.

“We’re right here this morning she wouldn’t stop kicking and I didn’t want to wake you up so I came out here, she stopped kicking when I told her about this place and how much it means to us.” You told me sitting down at you best ability to sit criss cross.

“Yeah, this all feels like a dream to me.” I told you sitting with you hearing and feeling the waves clash softly against our bodies.

“It’s real Peter I’m real, our daughter is, our marriage everything is real.” You smiled at me holding my hands your wedding ring glowing in the sunlight.

“I remember when I asked you to marry me, I remember when we were at the alter here, when you told me you were pregnant after our honeymoon and now soon you’ll give birth to our daughter soon. We’re here together you’re 32 weeks pregnant this is all I’ve ever wanted ever.” I told you feeling my eyes water.

“This is what I never thought I’d have thank you for everything being my wife, the mother to our daughter, and my support and heart.” I thanked her rubbing your belly.

Kissing your face enjoying this ocean and life with you.

#Peter micheal Davidson #pete davidson #Pete Davidson oneshot #pete davidson x reader #Pete Davidson x you #dad!petedavidson #dad!pete #pete davidson x pregnant!reader

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kxmikomrade · 2 years ago

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🍁˖࿐ Artist! S/O - Isagi, Bachira, Reo, Sae

╰┈➤Hcs of them with an Artistic S/O!! Genre: Fluff and crack Gn!reader or Any gender Warnings: Swearing, Not proof read bcs im lazy, idk wat else but lmk if theres anything else Waiter's Note: OH LOOK WHO FINALLY PULLED THIS OUTTA THEIR DRAFTS AFTER A WHOLE ASS 5 MONTHS LMAOO I HOPE U GUYS ENJOY <33 Reqs Open as usual!! Masterlists

Now Playing: An Art Gallery Could Never Be As Unique As You

Very VERY VERYYYY fascinated on what you do, he thinks it's really cool

He canonly likes art too so let him join in!!

Draw him in any way like even a small doodle and he WILL COMBUST

He decorated his wall infront of his desk with your drawings and doodles, other things like custom keychains, origami, glass paintings are on his desk so he can see it everyday when he wakes up 🥹🥹

Study dates with you two often end up in drawing-cuddling sessions

Starting with studying so you can both pass your exams to you two beside eachother, legs tangled under the kotatsu table while you both lay on your stomachs, drawing whatever you felt like drawing 🫶

Let's just hope that you both pass your exams 😭😭

When you have art block or you feel stressed, he offers to take you out to a walk (yk he loves those esp with you)

It may seem kinda annoying at first but trust me, it does WONDERS

YOUR WORKS ARE DISPLAYED THROUGHOUT THE ISAGI HOUSEHOLD ✨

His parents like your creations too but they ALWAYS remind you whenever you come over that it's okay to take breaks and do other things 🥹💖

He's not rich by all means, but he's willing to spend his money to get you supplies u want

When he got the letter for blue lock, you both agreed to meet at a park at night and you talked things through, promising to work hard and improve while you both are separated

Whenever the topic of art or s/o comes in, he just ends up talking everyones ear off in blue lock and the question was just from a truth or dare game😭

Whether or not you got recognized for your art and got more commissions/promotions or quit art to start something new that interests you, he's supportive just as you are for him 🫶

HE LOVES ART, AND YOUR AN ARTIST?? MATCH MADE IN HEAVEN

Introduces you to his mom <33 you both share tips and tricks and now she's like your teacher ITS SO CUTE

But Meguru gets pretty pouty if you just sit there beside his mom talking about art related things all day 😭

If you let him lay down on your lap and give him occasional kisses then he'll be able to sit still for a while longer

You gave him a bee-themed soccer ball you painted once and he ALWAYS has it on his bed so he can fall asleep hugging it 🥹

He doesn't play with it tho, atleast not outdoors bcs he doesn't wanna ruin it 😭💖

Painting with him and his mom if she isn't busy!!

He always plays around and puts paint on your face, his mom scolds him for it LMAOO

Don't take him to art museums pls 😭😭 HAVE YOU SEEN HOW HE WAS IN THE LIGHT NOVEL?? you both would get in trouble just because he was bored 💀

BRAGS TO EVERYONE AND ANYONE IN BLUE LOCK ABOUT YOU THAT THEY LITERALLY KNOW YOU AND EVERY SINGLE ART PIECE YOU HAVE DONE BEFORE EVEN MEETING YOU OR SEEING THEM 💀💀😭

Has tried to eat paint before 🧍‍♂️Much worse if you paint food then bro might try it again 💀💀💀

You sit on a bench nearby and draw while he practices, it's relaxing, just watch out for the ball 😭💀

Oh boy

Id say for a FACT that you were broke until you started dating him unless you have really cheap materials or you're just really good at saving

Yk how art materials and art school is so ridiculously expensive?? Well, your LOVELY boyfriend here has it all covered

Mans literally already bought a whole art shop 💀

Its not like it's anything new *looks at art big art studio*

PLEASE get a frying pan and smack some sense into this man's head bcs he was just about to buy his way into getting your art showcased in an art gallery/convention

He might, MIGHT stop if you use his own words against him. Like the whole 'i want to carve my own future' thing

Lets be fr, he won't stop, the most he could do is stop bribing his way to get your art showcased

Bby supports you alot tho :((

He just admires how much effort you're able to put in each work

When art block kicks in, he'll take you to go to expensive art galleries or to wherever the Mona Lisa is currently being showcased at

Just drag him out and tell him u wanna learn soccer 😭 it's honestly more fun than roaming around an art gallery

Paint him with his parents and they'll already start planning your marriage 💀😭

Bro when collage comes along, then your tuition fees and apartment bills are already paid like??? I wonder how 🤔

PLS DRAW HIM AND SHOW HIM THAT THERE ARE OTHER WAYS TO EXPRESS LOVE OTHER THAN MONEY SPENDING BCS HE'LL ACTUALLY UNDERSTAND WITH ALL THE TIME, EFFORT AND SKILL YOU PUT IN

He DEFINITELY frames all the drawings/paintings you give him. No buts

Let's be fr, he probably has a room in his house filled with your creations 🧍‍♂️

I'm pretty sure that blue lock allows anything to be brought unless it's a phone or something (because they'll have to earn it back) so Reo brought this photo album/journal decorated by you and/or your drawings

AND YK THOSE MINI PRINTERS??? HE BROUGHT ONE TOO SO WHENEVER YOU SEND A NEW ARTWORK, HE PRINTS IT 😭😭

Talks Nagi's ear off every time 💀

Supportive bank in general 👍 jkjk pls don't use him just for money or I will come for your eyeballs 🤗

Sae is pretty chill compared to his hardcore emo brother like did you see that one panel where he wanted to go home in the middle of a game while applying lotion???

He doesn't seem like the type to check social media often too so I hc that he draws after practices when he gets home to cool down for the night yk

I can definitely see him drawing his favorite characters from Chibi Maruko-chan whenever he feels stressed or has a bad day because of his stupid teammates who play like headless chickens 🙄(his words not mine)

So like when YOU came in, it's like he's surrounded by comfort when you two draw in silence while listening to your shared playlist 🌼

drawing fanarts for him that you wanna show off to everyone since he's beautiful and he's even more beautiful in your artstyle <33

he doesnt know about it tho because thats too embarrassing

rin follows you on that account with his private acc LMAOOOOOO

LISTEN. IMAGINE DRAWING HIM WITH HIS YEE YEE LOOKIN ASS BANGS AND TEASING HIM ABOUT IT HAHAHSHAHA

you secretly sent one to Rin for funsies once and he sent you a pic of Sae when he was young back, now you both have this sketchy deal thing going on that Sae doesnt know SHIT about

dw tho, both your mouths are sealed because now you got Rin to approve of you

If you live with him abroad, then your apartment/house is FILLED with notes/drawings/sketches/paintings/origamis, etc. im not exaggerating at ALL.

Imagine those cute and decorated fridges but make it the ENTIRE house

You both just slap some sticky note on walls, tables, chairs, cabinets, shelves, counters and draw on it,and neither of you clean them up, you just leave it there 😭😭

it comes off when it comes off ig 🤷

If you dont live with him abroad, then you guys have a minecraft server you both share thats literally FILLED with builds. Somehow, Sae's RIDICULOUSLY fast at learning these things and now hes an architect 🧍‍♂️

Also those cooperative drawing websites/games?? yeah, you both have them OFTEN, like, every night other than when hes like SUPER tired

just stick to screenshoting him and drawing on his face

He buys you anything you need/want too and theres basically no stopping him 🤷🤷

Tagging: @inariezaki

[1341 words]

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canmargesimpson · 9 months ago

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@imthursdaysyme you got me pregnant to the most beautiful idea and now I’m giving birth to it (that’s a weird analogy sorry) AND this is also to my Chilean friend @timefospookies BITCH I KNOW YOU AINT THAT LATINA BUT YOURE GETTING THERE

CHILEAN EDDIE

- he never really knew his father but he knew that he was a piece of shot that no one likes at all

- cut to years later when he is like hella famous and whatever, he does one of those like ethnicity tests and realizes he is 1/4 Chilean. And he’s like… “tf is Chile?”

- he gets home to lock himself in a his room to study about the weird skinny country on the south of america.

-Steve is kinda worried cuz he haven’t come out of the room for like hours ands it’s kinda suspicious

- out of no where Eddie decides that corroded coffin is making a South America tour, as an excuse to visit his some what home country.

- after going country through country they arrive to Chile, he has learned enough Spanish to get by, but little did he know that out of all of the latinoamericanos Chileans are one of the hardest to understand.

-he goes to museum and parks. He eat whatever he found on the street and learned about the basics of the culture

- the night of the concert arrives and he reveals on stage for the first time the reason behind touring

-“so I know it’s weird af to be here because this is actually…. Where I’m from?? A few moths ago I did an ethnicity test and turns out I’m from Chile? I mean it makes sence, I do have awfully dark humor and i am skinny and tall too”

- the crowd goes wild, everyone is shitting themselves rn. Lfter the concert terrier went crazy over the fact that one of greatest metal singer is Chilean.

-after that, his Instagram post got filled with Chilean shit and comments like “WACHITO RICO VEN PA CHILEEE” or “que chileno es este weon?? Si ni siquiera se puede tomar una piscola”

- at first he was scared, because he found out that Chileans can be quite…. Aggressive (I mean the entire country was banned from posting comments on Donald Trump’s Instagram for something)

- he then went to Viña Del Mar to make a comeback and learn some shit. He was now quite fluent in Spanish but you could still tell that he was American by the accent.

-he loved each and every comedian because they all poked at him for being “Chilean” and at the same time calling palta “avocado” or saying “hot dog” instead of “completo”

- after that he just more and more got to learn about the bizarre history behind Chile with Steve. And they loved it so much, since them, they bought a house and spend their vacations on Valdivia looking at the sea lions and Badurrias in the garden

- ALSO he was totally in love with Teletón, since it’s like a thing he never thought South America had, so every year he went to help disabled kids and adults and donating money.

- he comes back as much as posible, and trying to get to see everything from the flowered desert in the north to the glaciers in the south.

- he knew the people where cold but he actually found them quite nice since they all had that same weird sence of humor he did. They also had the same taste as he did, I mean he truly felt at home when he ate a Barros luco for the first time like that shit hit home.

#by: me #eddie munson #Latino eddie munson #latin!eddie Munson #OMG SUFBANS ENSKAKALA #steve harrington #steddie

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queeniecook · 4 months ago

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January 20

There's a gentle rain falling upon the island of Sulani as the Grant household wakes up for the day. It's a Saturday which thankfully means no school for AJ.

"Can't I do this later? I want to go talk to Rahmi. She has fun stories about her farm." AJ says with a sigh.

"It's best to get it done and out of the way. Then you have the rest of the weekend to have fun." Naya tells him, she's helping him with his homework while her husband stares at the TV, watching the ending credits of some movie he found to watch.

By the time Rahmi gets up and gets ready for the day, the rain had cleared up - almost like magic one could say. According to her weather app, it was supposed to rain all day. She leaves the house to go meet Ukupanipo at Sand Simoleon Beach.

"Is the weather around here always so unpredictable?" Rahmi asks after they've gotten in the water. She still isn't used to seeing her friend in his merman form. There's a certain ethereal beauty to him when he's in the water - in his element - but she won't be sharing that thought anytime soon.

Ukupanipo's face breaks out into a huge grin. "When you have those of us who can change the weather, yes it can be. Normally I don't meddle with nature but I did tell you I'd bring you here today..."

Rahmi's eyes grew wide "You...stopped the rain?"

He nods his head "We can summon clear skies, among other things." He doesn't want to give away all "secrets" yet.

"Well...thank you." Rahmi says with a smile, she feels a warmth spread through her chest at the idea of someone doing something like that for her.

After their swim, they grill out fresh fruit for their dinner. Tomorrow she would be spending time with AJ and Apollo while Naya is at work. The guys want to take her to a local museum so she can see some of Sulani's history.

The duo eat their dinner, chatting here and there about their lives.

"Since you go back soon, there's one more thing I'd like to show you." Ukupanipo announces to his companion. He isn't sure if she'll agree to it or not.

"Oh?" Rahmi asks, putting down a piece of fruit to look at him.

"I work at the island's bar and well, I'd like to take you there. Not while I work obviously but I'd like to give you a taste of the Sulani nightlife scene."

Many things filtered through Rahmi's mind in that moment. Is he asking her out on a date? Or is this just a friend thing? Then her emotions kicked in. Panic and happiness were the main ones. "Sure."

Night begins to slowly creep in and Rahmi finds herself putting on some warmer clothes she brought with her. The fact that it's wintertime and she's been at the beach most of the day while her kids are dealing with snow back home isn't lost on her. She's been keeping in touch with her kids and they seem to be doing well, from what they're telling her anyway.

The pair spend time around a bonfire someone built on the sand until it gets late and they part ways.

Once Rahmi returns to the Apollo and Naya's house, she goes to Vera's old room and finds Naya sitting on the love seat.

"Did he ask you out yet?" She asks, almost giddy. Despite her own struggles in her marriage lately, Naya is a fan of love. She loves love and seeing people in it.

"No. Yes...I don't know." Rahmi says, staring at the blonde. She tells Naya what happened at the beach.

"That's totally a date! Don't worry, I got your outfit covered." Naya beams. It's not often she gets to dress someone up. Apollo let her play dress up on him once and that was it - but that story is for the bedroom only.

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hekate1308 · 1 month ago

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Fictober #21, We've Done Worse

Prompt: We've Done Worse

Fandom: White Collar

Pairing: Gen

The last thing he expected was that Peter’s – well, he doesn’t even know what to call it. Re-education seems a little harsh, considering the historical connotations, and everything else is just… wrong. Rehabilitation? He doesn’t think he ever really was one of those who needed that. Yes, he forged art and lied and stole, but that’s hardly worth a place in hell. Restitution? Not the proper word to use, and anyway, it’s not like he’s giving back any of what he stole. The FBI already seized most of it, and what little there remains is not exactly the most expensive of the bunch.

The point is, he really didn’t think he’s changing in any way, shape or form. He might have a nine-to-five, but he hates it (or so eh thought). It’s nice to have dinner with Peter and Elizabeth sometimes but it doesn’t take away the fact that he can only walk so far without being arrested (he was convinced). It’s one thing to be able to solve cases and help people, but another when one is forced to do so (he believed).

So, really, he was just a crook who flew too close to the sun, as Mozzie put it, got caught, then got lucky and that is why he is not in jail and biding his time. Easy, right?

As it turns out, not so much.

He’s been going through some files. Nothing big, nothing that needs their immediate attention, but if he doesn’t, there’ll be repercussions, mainly that Peter will have to do it on his own, he’ll be late for dinner, and Elizabeth will be annoyed, not to mention that Diana and Jones will roll their eyes, and anyway, it’s easy enough work for a few hours. Mozzie sends him a text that they need to talk, but that can mean anything and is not alarming really so he decides to ignore it until he gets home that night.

Mozzie is waiting for him, having opened a bottle of wine, of course.

“What is it?” he asks when her realizes his friend his unnaturally excited, even for his standards.

As it turns out, it’s a von Alt. Not extremely well known over here, but fetching a lot in Europe, so – perfect. Also, currently being house in one of the smaller museums in Manhattan, being on permanent loan from a millionaire how seems to consider it his duty to let other people enjoy works of art too instead of letting them rot in some vault or another which, from what he knows of that kind of people, is positively philanthropic. Also a bit stupid, but it just gives them the chance to… to…

He says no without even thinking about it. There’s just something that rubs him the wrong way. Also, it’s next week, and there’s an audit coming up, not to mention Diana and Jones will be in court, and Peter is –

“We’ve done worse” Mozzie say and he automatically opens his mouth to argue only to realize that in fact, they have, They have, as mentioned before, stolen and lied and cheated, and he has never even batted an eye, because it’s unfair that some people have nice things and they don’t. It’s just how life works – sometimes you have to help justice along if you actually want to see it done…

But this… well… this is not one of those times. This is literally just them being annoyed that another rich guy has a painting. If he were hiding it away, that would be one thing, but it’s literally on loan to the gallery, and so people get to see it. Everyone is happy with that, apart from people who want it for themselves or need the money, and…

Well… Neal does get paid. Not a lot. But there is compensation. And anyway, if something happened and Peter realized what was going on – always a risk, although until now, it just added to the gun of it – he’d hunt them down again because this is Peter they are speaking of.

“I know” he finally answers because he realizes Mozzie expects him to. ”It’s just – “ and then he realizes he has no idea what to say to even start to explain what’s going on in his head, because it seems that part of him is a law-abiding citizen all of a sudden and it’s a little bit too much for him to comprehend.

“Look I’m not saying never, alright? I’m just saying some other time” he tries to save himself, only for Mozzie to raise an eyebrow.

“Fine, fine, mon frère, just don’t expect me to join you on your new side any time soon.”

There’s no new side, he thinks, shaking his Hea. He’s just being careful and deliberately choosing what to do, that’s all.

If only he could believe himself.

#fictober24 #my writings #white collar #neal caffrey #peter burke #mozzie

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snarky-wallflower · 6 months ago

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for those who are lost at sea

Word Count: 2106

Hershey, sometimes I can barely get out of bed. Sometimes the only thing fueling me is the fact that my Satellite will save so many people like my father. That no one will ever be stranded out in the ocean, that deep blue sea that's deeper than any expanses of space to me. That no one will ever have to watch their father sink into those depths-- swallowed entirely. Watch him disappear, know that he didn't know his place in the world when he died. OR A letter Nova never sent to Hershey.

(A plaque, found at the Smithsonian National Museum of American History:

A LETTER FROM DAME ANNA HANOVER, TO SIR JOHN HERSCHEL

September 1834

Measures 11 inches by 5 inches, 4 pages. Written using a black fountain pen (see exhibit 4), on parchment paper.

This letter contains words from Dame Anna Hanover, seemingly never sent to her friend, Sir John Herschel, while he worked at The Cape of Good Hope. It is one of the only records we have on just why she decided to build the Satellite, a peek into the mind of a true scientific genius. It goes over her deep friendship with her scientific equal, and talks of her history previous to the Satellite’s construction.)

Dear Hershey,

I can’t sleep. I’m writing because I hardly know what else to do about it.

I know, I know–that’s hardly new for either of us, isn’t it? I remember when we used to take turns hauling each other off to sleep in university. Telling each other that the exams could wait, that we would fail either way if we were falling asleep in the middle of the lessons. You used to get this constipated expression as I had to tug at your coat in order to get you to rest. I’m half-convinced you still do—what I would give to have a portrait of it! It truly was a ridiculous look.

I suppose we both knew we’d never stop. But that didn’t mean we couldn’t get each other to take care of ourselves.

I’m not with you, and I am awake. And since I cannot speak with you late into the night, distracting myself from such things, I must do the next best thing. I may not get your wry comments, or your half-laugh when I say something witty, or the way your brow furrows as you think over a problem I have proposed. All I have right now is this pen, and memories of those times.

So, how is the Cape of Good Hope? How does your map of the stars fare? Do they invite you to those ridiculous parties there, all those stuffed shirts that hold our funding in their pockets? I don’t miss those parties. Honestly, you getting this project so far away truly has saved my soul there–

Oh.

Oh, I don’t–I don’t know if I can continue pretending as if everything is normal. Even if only in a letter. My mind is a whirlwind, Hershey, and the only thing that even partially calms it is these words. Writing down, documenting what exactly has happened to me.

I know exactly why I can’t sleep, and I just–

(The words become illegible here, through heavy scribbles.)

Damn it.

I don’t plan to send this, so what should I care about here? It’s nothing but throwing my feelings into the void? I need to write this down, to say something about this before I scream aloud.

Tonight was the anniversary of my Father’s death.

And it was a day like any other.

I didn’t even realise until halfway through the day. I was so caught up in checking the flywheels, making sure the bricks were not crumbling. Organising the workers, because you know I don’t rest when it comes to that. Tasks I’d completed a thousand times over, a steady routine. We’re still relatively well-staffed, so I was mostly just checking over work, encouraging the bricklayers.

But, while I was in my place in the Township, I saw the sea from my window.

I saw the waves swirling and rippling, and felt my heart freeze, icy seawater seeming to wave over my heart.

I was thrown back to all those years ago. I feel I must have gone light-headed, as a thousand memories of that day burned through my mind in an instant. I don’t even remember the next couple of minutes–by the time I came back to myself, I was gasping on the chair of my room, trying to get back steady breath.

I didn’t get much more work done after that.

It’s been seventeen years and yet, I still feel my heart sink and sway whenever this day comes around, when I remember just how long it’s been.

That’s why I’m writing this letter. After all, I ran out of tequila a couple of days ago, and haven't bothered to replenish it.

I miss you. I know why you’re gone, and I know that I can run this project by myself. That’s not why I need you. You’ve called me indomitable, and I know I live up to that. I don’t lie to myself, Hershey. The project is working, and every day I grow closer to seeing that new Polaris brightening the night sky.

Instead, I miss having someone I could truly talk to. Spend hours speaking on the stars, on celestial astrophysics, on just how far we still have to go. On old memories of university, of those horrible parties we were both forced to attend, but made bearable simply by your presence. I miss being able to talk about my grief, even if I’ve never been brave enough to tell you its full extent.

Who else is there to tell?

Because I certainly cannot speak to Charles about such things! That man hates everyone and everything in this place. I swear, every time I’m left alone with him, I grow closer to knocking him over the head with one of my heavier books. If I hear him muttering about Americans one more time—

Ugh, I’m getting off track. Perhaps I would rather focus on something else, but these feelings will consume me if I let them. So I cannot do anything but write.

I work above everyone else here. While I may be friendly, this is not the sort of thing you can tell a casual friend. My grief fuels me, just as it makes it harder to truly function some days. How do you explain that? Even with science on my side, I’ve never been able to say all of it aloud.

God.

I think that's the deepest blow of them all. I had to watch his eyes lose their light, his confidence replaced by fear and confusion. He had always known where to go, what to do, what next to say–but did he, really? Or is that just a child’s fantasy? A little girl’s dream, believing that her father would never falter?

I’ve lived so much longer without him than I did with him.

He’ll never know the woman I became. He’ll never know that I never abandoned my dream of the sciences, never fell for a man. He’ll never get the chance to truly know me, because I wasn’t even fully formed when I lost him. I was still becoming, still changing–and yet, he died only knowing a version of me that quite possibly no longer exists. Every time I think about it too long, Hershey, I swear it’s like I’m adrift again, the waves crashing over my small form. Being stabbed with blades of seawater.

I do this all for him, and he will never know it. He will never know the woman his daughter became. I believe that he would have still loved me, still cared for me. But I’ll never know for sure, will I?

Sometimes, I wake up and I'm back on that sea. Clinging to that driftwood like it's my only tether to the world. I was just as lost as my father, really. I was just the one who got to survive. Kicking, kicking, kicking, frantically trying to move towards a land that I wasn't quite sure existed.

I nearly gave up, Hershey. I was a child. Not even a decade past of life, having just lost–my world. My everything. I had nothing but my books, my father, and his crew - a life spent at sea, sailing the Caribbean, gone forever. Before that night, I believed that the sea was a home. That the waves would never overwhelm me, that they’d always bring me back to shore safely.

I’ll never be that little girl again. There’s a reason I bring navigation gear everywhere, you know. …well, of course you don’t know. Sorry, Hershey.

Every day, I wonder how I found the strength to survive it. You don't know how tight of a grip exhaustion can have on your heart, swirling around your skull, lulling you into letting go of everything you know. Until everything you have ever loved is gone in one storm. Those who are lost, never found again.

But even as a child, I didn’t want to let myself be lost.

I would not let Father's sacrifice be in vain.

Not then. Not ever.

So I fought against the sea for weeks. I had my own personal battles with the waves, clinging to that driftwood like it was my Eden. I fell asleep, woke again gasping for air, fighting against tides roaring above my head. Even after so long, those memories don’t fade. I remember them as vividly as they were yesterday…even as my father’s laugh and voice fades from that same memory. Seawater tastes so bitter on your tongue, your blood racing up and down your veins as you scream into the stars, your voice going unheard for thousands of miles. Even writing this down makes me want to shudder.

Now, it still makes little sense to me. It makes even less sense to me knowing more about the world. I should have died of hunger, of thirst, of lack of sleep. That risk should have killed me a thousand times, a child fighting against too much to bear. But I suppose even back then, the woman I would become, the indomitable Anna Hanover had started to emerge.

That little girl survived, making it to shore. Only I remain of the Hanovers.

My father is gone.

But I will make his legacy live on. I will make it so that no one is never lost at sea, unsure of where they are in the world ever again. So that no children have to struggle against the sea, too tired and afraid to yet get to mourn.

It is a vow I’ve made over and over, and one I will continue to make.

God, it truly is late, isn’t it? I don’t know if as many of these words would have left me otherwise. My hand aches, the ink running low. I suppose I’ll have to replenish it in the morning. Add another task to the neverending pile.

Anyways. I doubt I'll send this.

But maybe one day I will.

Maybe one day this letter will be meaningless, because I will have said all of this in person to you.

But I don't–Hershey, I just don’t know. Imagine. Me, not knowing something. Not being able to talk about something! You know better than anyone just how much I can go on and on. It's heavy, this grief. It's been over fifteen years now, and I don't think the load has gotten any easier to carry. Father’s memory is the reason why my life’s work exists, after all. My grief and old love for him weigh on me almost as heavy, if not heavier than my Satellite.

Given how much I care for you, I wonder if I’ll ever be able to share my truth on these matters. If not you, then who? I may take lovers, may have friends—but you have been my dearest person for so long. You have gotten me through so much, been my friend so long, and yet the words die whenever I think of trying.

Good night, Hershey. I think I’ll try to sleep now. My eyes grow weary, and my hands shake. After all, I need to be up rather early tomorrow in order to . Sleep may be hard to come by. Perhaps it will come easier after baring my soul in this letter.

A woman can only hope.

I hope that wherever you are, your night has been more peaceful, more filled with stars, than mine.

Your friend,

NOVA

#anna hanover #sir john herschel #pulp musicals #anna hanover's father #snarky's fic #i just have so many feelings about anna #so many

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cdyssey · 2 years ago

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Abbott 2.22 Reactions:

I can’t believe we’ve reached the finale. 😭 I’m not ready to be without Abbott for a while.

“I don’t know how to leave this conversation.” - Gregory Eddie repeating something I think to myself every single day.

“All thirteen essential vitamins.” Snsjdjsjsjsjs, I love him.

Night at the Museum!!!

“I take all of your recommendations seriously. I want to know why you like stuff.” If someone ever said this to me, I’d probably marry them right then and there.

Melissa’s baseball bat that she can’t sleep without. Actually, I’m going to go feral about that detail!!! Her hypervigilance. A way to defend herself always has to be within reach.

MEL FIXING THE BLANKET. CALLING BARB YOUTHFUL. WW DELULUS STAY WINNING.

ANSNDNDN, waiting for the bell. What does Barb have in her bag?!?

Maurice!! I love him. The way he delivers his lines is so funny.

Janine and the talking head about not wanting to be selfish. The break in her voice. It makes me think about the fact that she knows what it’s like to have grown up with a selfish person, and so she’s probably terrified to ever be selfish in her own life. She doesn’t distinguish between being a remorselessly selfish person and doing one selfish thing.

Janine shutting Gregory out instead of communicating. :(

Mel having beef with the tour guide ANAJSNSJSJDJ. GOD. I love you.

That jumpsuit that Ava is wearing is impeccable. My God.

AVA ALIEN TRUTHER. BARBARA SHIELDING THE KIDS WKWKDJSJSJ.

Watching all these kids play is so lovely.

“You seem completely unaffected by the cutest thing I’ve taught a child.” Lmfao.

Gregory wanting to stay in Philly for the summer because of Janine.

Barbara needing to be in a private room!!

Ava Night Shyamalan NQJDNDWKKWIWDJSJ.

“That’s the name she remembers?” AKQJQKWJSNSJ. HELP ME.

“It’s no wonder that your dad is a landscaper with the way that you beat around the bush.” I love Jacob being the biggest Teddie supporter. 😭 He’s also dropping some incredibly good relationship advice.

BRO HUG BETWEEN JACOB AND GREGORY. I’M EMO. THEY’VE COME SO FAR.

Ava looking out for Teddie too by pairing Janine and Gregory up. ;w;

“All the time. My grandma called me selfish this morning.” ANWKWKOQJDDJ.

I GET TO CROSS OFF A SWEET AVA-JANINE MOMENT OFF MY BINGO! YEAHHHHHHH!!

BARBARA AND HER ROBE AND SLIPPERS. I LOVE HER.

“GOODNIGHT.” JUST PASSING OUT BEHIND THE THING. Barbara Howard, I love you.

“Because I like you, Janine.” 😭

BARB AND HER C-PAP. HELP. I LOVE HER. OH, GOD, I LOVE THAT SHE HAS A C-PAP. I’M GOING TO WRITE FICS ABOUT THIS.

NOT MELISSA GETTING READY TO BEAT THE “ALIEN” WITH A BASEBALL BAT

“Melissa, I would never ask you to take Barbara out.” AKQKQKOQOQOEDJJSSJ. Ava’s out here really helping all the ships tonight.

Barbara having only been recently diagnosed with sleep apnea, so she didn’t have the machine when Mel and Barb shared a room at PECSA.

“I’m obviously very particular about how I present myself, so I tried to hide it.” That’s it. That’s Barbara Howard in a nutshell.

Mel saying behind and making sure Barb is okay. 😭 Those are my work wives.

“You’re aging with dignity.” SOBBING. I LOVE THEM. This is this season’s “Like fine wine and Stanley Tucci” moment.

“I like you too. Like, a lot.” In the heart room no less.

Both of them admitting to having liked each other from the very beginning. So, so sweet.

“Multi-presidential-term relationship.” JAJWDJDNSN. Incredible line.

“It changed how I feel about me.”

“… and I cannot lose that friend.” This conversation is breaking my goddamn heart. It’s so real and unflinching, confronting the reality of what it means to love someone you work with day-in and day-out. It’s terrifying to possibly upend what already works well between you.

Another bro hug. 😭 I’m actually fucking tender.

That kid going “absolutely” to Barb ANSNDJFNS.

The tender, longing glances Teddie give to each other before going to sleep.

“Work for free?” / “Yeah, you’re really not from Philly, aren’t you, hon?” Never change, Melissa.

“I guess I’m not ready for him, but that’s okay. I’m okay,” she says in the emptiest, most desolate voice.

AVA BAREFOOT DJDJEJDJD.

What a precious and bittersweet finale. I love all these characters so, so much, and I’m going to miss them. 😭

Favorite Moment: That last conversation between Janine and Gregory in the heart room. It was so honest and painful.

Funniest Moment: LMAO, everyone freaking out at Barb with her CPAP machine.

Work Wives Watch: Mel lingering behind to check up on Barb and let her know that she’s aging with dignity. God. 😭

#s: abbott elementary #abbott elementary spoilers #maggie blogs #what do I do with my life now

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bloodiedmedic · 2 years ago

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A night at the museum.

((Drabble for my fae OC Ms. Gold who ends up terrorizing and killing some enforcers in Zaun. Why?...Why not?))

Ms. Gold hadn’t actually been intending to cause any trouble that evening as she drifted though a museum in Piltover after hours. She simply didn’t want to deal with the crowds that would have inevitably been swarming around the museum with all the noise of a million gnats, and the manners of a thousand chihuahuas wanting to yip at anyone they thought their less. It wasn’t worth the effort when so many “Pilties” were both dull, and ill mannered. She could excuse the one, or the other when in a good mood. Both together however was an unforgivable sin in her opinion yet in so many human cultures it occurred. She’d despair of it, and contemplate living a secluded life off in some forest somewhere if it wasn’t for the fact it so often gave her the perfect excuse to play.

She hadn’t intended to cause any trouble, but she had also been bored for the last few days so if she ran into some guards Ms. Gold was entirely willing to enjoy some trouble. As it so happened turning the corner as she went from one exhibit to the next the woman found herself running into a group of four enforcers. All of which looked startled, and rather predictably started to reach for their guns. “Halt! Who are you? What are you, actually no. You can answer our questions down at the station. Hands out, and drop your cane.” The one who had spoke instead of grabbing his gun pulled out a pair of handcuffs and walked towards Ms. Gold.

Tilting her head ever so slightly an amused smile flickered across the Fae Woman’s face as for a moment her eyes almost seemed to swirl with golden motes. “I understand fully what it is you desire dearie, but before that. Might I have your name?” A simple request, and one delivered with a strange emphasis that made the enforcer blink for a moment before frowning. “You don’t need...It’s Thomas Michael Kristoff. Now get your hands up.” Tapping her cane against the ground her eyes got the tiniest bit larger. “Thomas. Michael. Kristoff. A lovely name.” The other enforcers were starting to look a touch confused if not downright disturbed at this point as their pistols were held not quite at anyone, but half raised all the same.

((Cut for length. Also yes people die, but anyways.))

Reaching out with one hand instead of dropping her wrist into those handcuffs she looked into the Enforcer’s eyes. “Such a kindness of you to give me a gift. That’s a thing done between friends even, but dearie… what are you doing?” The enforcer paused for a moment blinking and shook his head. Ms. Gold spoke again. “It’s okay, you gave me a gift. I understand everything. Do you remember who you are?” The enforcer looked utterly confused, and looked down at the handcuffs in his hand. “I gave you a gift? We must be friends than I guess, but no. I...I don’t remember… wait. What’s my name? Who am I?” Looking back at the other enforcers he shook his head.

A simple thing a name. In some cases taking a name simply gave someone a measure of control, or influence. However in other cases it could mean far more. A name was someones identity, and within their identity their sense of self was their memories. Take their core, and you took everything leaving them utterly vulnerable in any number of ways. Ms. Gold had taken everything associated with his name. A firm grasp on the threads of his soul, and a snip like fangs clamping shut to cut before she’d pulled away what made the man himself rolling it up to put next to a thousand thousand other names. Not something a younger less experienced Fae could do, and in a Realm with less magic perhaps it would have been difficult for her as well but here? On Runeterra? Oh she was going to have so much funhere.

The other enforcers started to look utterly confused glancing between each other before at the man who was now No one. “Thomas. Thomas what are you doing? Put the handcuffs on her! She did some...some magic shit. She’s dangerous. Put the handcuffs on her. Now!” No One shook his head looking back to Ms. Gold who offered a concerned look tapping her cane on the floor before taking a step to one side. “Dearie look at me. What could I be other than a middle aged woman with a cane trying to avoid the day time crowds? I’m no threat, and you said we must be friends. Are you going to allow some random people to drag me away? Do you want me to be gone forever? I’m the only one who can help you.” No One looked helplessly at her for a moment before dropping the handcuffs, and going for his pistol. Acting out of reflex, and training the other three enforcers immediately raised their weapons and fired. A series of loud shots rang out echoing through the museum as Ms. Gold moved to one side watching even as she frowned reaching up to cover her ears for a moment. So loud. It was annoying. The look on the three enforcers faces as No One fell to the floor made up for it, and with a sinister smile… she released his name.

A loud shuddering gasp came from Thomas as he shook reaching for one of the holes in his chest as frothy blood splattered across his lips. “You...you shot me. You all shot me...You know me. You know my name. Thomas Michael Kristoff. Why did you...What. Happened?...I want to go home. My wife is...waiting for me.” Eyes going blank his hand dropped to the floor as his life faded. The enforcers looked confused, and scared as they stared at his body. “This...what did we do? It must have been an ambush right? Someone ambushed us? It was that weird lady. What was her name? Where is she?” Looking around they blinked realizing that not only was Ms. Gold nowhere to be seen, but the lights had dimmed as well. Suddenly there was a scent akin to that of a forest coming to them, but not like any forest or small little collection of trees they’d ever seen to. This was an ancient forest drenched with frost, and with roots fed well on blood and that utter silence that only ever happened when some predator was stalking and the forest could feel it with any animal smart enough to realize what was happening disappearing quickly. The enforcers perhaps were not stupid, but they were woefully ignorant with no idea of what was happening. That ignorance quickly shifted into something akin to a softly growing terror as they shifted nervously, and agreed to start looking for “that weird lady” before figuring out what to do next. However with only three left they decided to break up into two groups as there was after all still “the whole museum” to search.

Perhaps the easy play would have been to take out the person who was by themselves first, but it wouldn't have been as fun. Watching from the shadows Ms. Gold smirked as two enforcers went down… well it looked like a hallway. Technically. If you ignored the lack of lights, and the shadows stretching down along it as well as how the ground had softened ever so slightly instead of the buildings hard tile with that scent of the winter coated blood soaked forest growing stronger. They weren’t in a new world of course, but than she didn’t need them to be. She just needed an illusion strong enough to scare them. The funny thing after all about fear is it’s tendency to confuse the mind, and thus make the already existing illusion all the stronger and harder to break out of.

Tossing her cane to one side it vanished into the shadows, and her shoulders rolled as a soft little eerie giggle came from her. Running a hand over her face fingers spread wide, and her eyes changed. No longer human at all they became dark black voids filled with swirling golden shards that never seemed to stop moving. Fingers stretching outwards and curling just a bit becoming more flexible than any human could hope for even as her ears changed as well becoming longer and pointed. Her teeth sharpened, and her human face all of a sudden seemed not quite right. Maybe it was too perfect, or maybe it wasn’t perfect at all with sharpened angles and a harsh chin with cheeks that they seemed like they could cut you if she laid her face alongside yours. It was impossible to tell if this was a transformation as Ms. Gold become steadily less human, and something far more monstrous than most humans would ever welcome into their house. Was it uncanny valley, or was it simply that she was something that Should Not Exist and yet did as though pissing on whatever natural laws of the universe were commonly recognized and accepted? It didn’t matter to her. She existed, and that was enough.

It was time to hunt in the cold, and soak the grounds of the forest once more with blood.

Eyes too large for her face finally moved as her hand lowered, and suddenly she moved. Feet so silent no human would hear them as she ran all the same there was a noise, but it was of horses and dogs. She was alone of course, but never would the Walker in Shadows forget that which she had once ran along aside. The Hunt that humans dreamed off and woke up feeling a strange mix of longing, and dread. The whispered legends that made people in the deep of winter lock their doors, and shutter their windows. Rumple was older than many could ever possibly understands, and somethings ran bone deep even for someone of her age. The enforcers at this point were panicked things stumbling, and confused as to what was happening. Where those noises were coming from, and even where they themselves happened to be. Eyes finding shadows, feet chilled ground covered with iced grass and hands reaching out to what should have been walls but felt like bark so cold as to freeze your hand to if you left your hand there for longer than a few seconds they were terrified. An emotion that deep down inside Rumple adored. No matter how much more “relaxed” or “nice” or perhaps even “kind” she might have became over the years she was still a Hunter of a sort no mortal could equal.

Was it minutes? Hours? Days? The enforcers would never know, and Rumple would never tell. Eyes unblinking as one golden mote swirled past another, and another swam under the other she followed them. Eventually however a sharp, and curved short sword came out. She didn’t need both of them. Both Enforcer died quickly with nothing in their mind left except for fear, and confusion. A quick thrust under the ribs into the heart finished one, and a slash across the back of the neck for the other severing the brain stem ended both. A merciful kill perhaps, but than the Hunt was terror enough. At least for these two. She hadn’t been willing to take the risk of those irritating pistols sounding out, and alerting the third and last enforcer as to what had happened. The third one however… well now she could do what she wanted.

Eventually Ms. Gold stepped out of the building looking as human as ever, and humming softly headed down the street offering a polite nod to two enforcers who were heading to the museum to replace their predecessors. They’d find a rather odd scene however. Against all odds each enforcer despite all four being in good health seemed to have had heart attacks with each ending up in front of a painting on the ground. The only thing connecting each painting was that it was nature themed with each being based around a different season. Spring.

Summer.

Autumn.

Winter.

A sad thing really four young people in the prime of their life all cut down by a natural cause with no warning. Particularly for those who had a family, and in this city of “progress” that family would inevitably find themselves in need of money. Perhaps they could use a friend.

There was always time in the day for a new deal after all.

((Yes I deliberately did not go into detail about what happened to the last enforcer. I don’t want to give away all of Rumple’s Ms. Gold’s secrets so quickly.))

#justgoldthings #goldendrabbles #murder cw #death cw #UGH I LOVE WRITING HER

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