#whatever. FLY MY RUSHED MIND PIECE
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jaggybot3000 · 9 months ago
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Alright. i had to get at least one Jashtober art piece out there.
of course it's mind...but get it, he's wearing a crown of thorns......but its made of lightning bc of his....he's.....the Mind Electric........GET IUT
sketches/textless vers. below
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im gonna push him down the stairs
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nightunite · 8 months ago
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slides u twenty dollars can we consider jealous johnny if he sees reader is only that avoidant with him and no one else… i don’t want to rush ahead in case you have something else planned but like, johnny hearing that there are rumors one of the baron’s newest maids is pregnant and the timing just lines up a little too well 😵‍💫😵‍💫
-noona bc tumblr refuses to let me send asks from sideblogs
Hiiiiiiiii Noona 💖
Thank you for the twenty, I'm gonna spend in on blind boxes, it's not an addiction, I can stop anytime I want. Spoilers concerning reader's pregnancy under the read more:
Gonna answer only the first part of this and save the second half because I don't wanna give away too much just yet. I will say that at the point this piece of the story takes place, our dear reader is indeed aware she's pregnant and has informed Konig, who insists on her having someone with her when she goes out into town. Anything could happen, and he fears the idea of her falling and harming herself or the baby, or having to do so much heavy lifting. They're just on friendly-ish terms though for now, as this isn't by the time reader has started showing, so no rumors have started flying yet. Also, curious how one section of this will be interpreted. Johnny exhaled as he stepped out of the shop, breath a thick fog in front of him as the winter chill set to work stinging his cheeks. Snow had fallen last night and stayed, keeping the roads slick. The thick woolen cap he wore snug around his head crushed down his signature hairstyle, but he'd rather have flat hair than a raw scalp. He rubbed his gloved hands along his wrists to fend off the shivers, the door behind him shutting with a clatter and the ring of bells as he moved along the walkway towards his next stop a few streets over. Four stores in, and he had yet to find what he was looking for. He wasn't entirely sure what that was, mind you, only that whatever it was remained elusive. It let him move about town all the same to get out of his house which had felt odd these past few weeks. Too loud, too quiet, achingly lonely yet also too many people nearby setting his nerves on edge. Impossible to get anything done, his irritation grew erratic like his thoughts. All he wanted was a moment of peace, a chance for his ever-restless thoughts to let him breathe lest he take it out on his staff.
Try as he might to deny it to himself, he knew why this happened. She wasn't there anymore. Packed up and left in the wee hours of the morn, when the fog was thick and the duchy silent as a graveyard. Didn't bother to inform him, merely the head maid whom had given him a look that said he was a fool. Shortly thereafter, word had gotten back to him that she had taken up a position in the Baron's home. He'd had to take a swift walk to handle that knotted up wad of string wrapped tightly in his gut.
If he were an honest man, he would say she hadn't truly been there even longer. It made his throat close up, the way she seemingly wasted away in his halls, sunken in on herself like a sunflower wilting in the frost. Like a cold snap at the start of winter, suddenly she had no time for him. Always quick to pull away from him, to find some task to do that kept her preoccupied from the start of the day until well past it. Hesitation whenever he asked her what was wrong, a momentary pause before she would tell him nothing was the matter, addressing him as 'my lord', as though the name she had permission to use would not escape her mouth.
Eyes always downcast, fixed on the floorboards or over his shoulder when she would bring herself to pretend to look him in the eye. Truth be told, he preferred it in some ways, the relief of not having that direct connection. At least then he didn't feel the weight of his inadequacy of caring for her, like a verdict cast down upon him. This way he could pretend that he was the man he was supposed to be. He stopped attempting to touch her in any way when he caught how she tensed, braced herself for contact. The kissing followed shortly thereafter, her strained smiles and broken laughter making him feel worse, like he never should have even tried. Anything further wasn't even on the table, and the thought of even broaching the subject made his insides churn. And so, he stopped. Filled his time with the other maids, though that never lasted long either. They weren't right; laughter too loud or high pitched, smile too far to one side, hair the wrong thickness between his fingers. It left him feeling further unease, as though he kept going down the wrong hallways in a maze that he had no chance of escaping. Like a picture set at the wrong angle, or shoes that are a size too small. It pinches him, makes something inside him pace like a beast in a cage, keeps him up at night. He knows what felt right, what kept him sated and content in his days. Eyes that gazed at him like he was her salvation, her sun, always turning towards him with a smile that made his own lips turn up. Soft hands even after hard work, rubbing over the calluses of his palms and stroking over any scars, pressing gentle kisses to them. Laughs and squeals that made his heart race like a schoolboy, cheeks flooded red with the desire to keep her that way, keep all of her attention on him. Even now as he turns the corner, he feels a small smile coming up from those memories, only to freeze awkwardly on his face.
Across the street there she walked, a small box wrapped in her free palm. He hadn't anticipated her being out, assuming she had remained indoors lest the chill finally do her in. He felt his breath leave his lungs at the sight while his blood raced at a fever pitch, heart beginning to hammer. She looked beautiful, the way she had before whatever had occurred at the duchy. Cheeks fuller than he had seen since this past fall, eyes bright and a small smile on her face, she looked radiant to him. Some piece of him, deep in his soul perhaps, relaxed in relief at the sight of her hale and hearty. Another part of him, a part of who he is as a man, feels the stirrings of bitterness at the fact she seems to flourish again once out of his reach. But he couldn't help the way he wanted to grit his teeth and snarl at who stood at her side. Baron Konig, the man who had poached her from him. Still draped in his silly shroud, he was covered head to toe, a thick peacoat covering him and sturdy boots making contact with the ground, clicks following. Even with the coat in the way, Johnny's eyes narrowed at the way her hand was tucked into the crook of his arm. Why does that bastard have the right to touch her? He must have said something under that hood, for she looked up at the Baron and let out a chuckle, breath pluming out for a moment before she responded with something that he nodded in return to. In his free arm he held several packages, looking for all the world as though they weighed nothing. To a man of that size, they probably didn't.
Johnny felt the acidic tendrils of jealousy lance through him, searing him from the inside out while he fought the need to bare his teeth and tear into the man. He couldn't help it, truly he couldn't. That should have been him with her, guiding her down the street while she looks up at him and laughs at whatever he tells her. Actually no, he thought, she shouldn't be out here at all. She should have been back in the duchy with him, playfully seated on his desk, fire roaring and keeping them both toasty while he pretended to work. He would reach out and cup her face, stroking the apple of her cheek, while she would lean in and reward him with a kiss for his hard work that day. A game they had played before, the two of them wrapped up against the bitter outside world, a secret shared between their hearts.
Why does she not look at him that way? What did he do to harm her? What must he do to have her return to him? Just look at him again, please. Even just a passing glance, something to show that she still recalls who he is, who he can be to her.
Words of adoration and touches that feel like absolution dissipate from his eyes, Johnny swallowing a small noise behind his teeth when he sees how she leans into the Baron so she can stretch slightly higher and say something in his ear. Never before has Johnny wished to be lesser in society so as to step forward and take her hand and pull her home, show everyone who she is meant for. Unable to bear the sight any longer he hunches his head into the collar of his coat and swiftly turns around. His attempts at finding peace have only led him to further turmoil.
As he heads back to his carriage, his thoughts circle over and over, ruminating and digging furrows into his sanity.
He doesn't deserve this, none of this. Not with a woman like that, not with her. When he returns to the house, he has letters to write.
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staryunaa · 8 months ago
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do you write for oliver aiku? :3
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car sex w Oliver Aiku
afab! reader
context- you just got stood up at a date, planned by anri of course. you’re sad, upset, kicking the bed, but then… you get a text.
your ex fling, Oliver Aiku
warnings- car sex, riding, a lil cunilingus and my horrible “fluff” or “angst”
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its 10:38 pm
you’re laying in your bed, sighing about some random guy who stood you up! you are never trusting anri again, who would’ve known she was horrible at choosing blind dates?
you’re just doomscrolling now, liking and commenting on every somewhat cute guy.
“... this is so STUPID!”
you push your head in your pillows, swinging your legs around. maybe you’ll be alone for the rest of your life!
bzzt!
“please! please tell me that’s a like back!”
you rush to pick up your phone, a text from oliver. your ex-fling..
“you up?” -10:40 pm
oh. it’s this guy again! some stupid strong idiot with some really good dick! i mean you did sleep with him enough… for the number to be in the double digits.
whatever, you’re done with guys! they’re nothing but stupid-
bzzt!
he double texted?! what the fu- you rush to open the chat again.
“c’mon now, don’t leave me on read.” -10:43 pm
okay.. no way he just double texted! that means he definitely wants to fuck right now! wait what are you thinking girl? just one last night stand? your fingers start flying on the screen typing the most perfectly written text message back!
“haha yeah heyy” -10:44 pm
did you come off too strong?! whatever! he just wants to fuck and you don’t mind that!
“come outside cutie” -10:44 pm
wait. HES OUTSIDE?!
you quickly head out to your window, oh my god! he’s actually outside?! you quickly brush your hair and clean yourself up before you rush out the door.
“hey there!”
wait did you even reapply lipstick? did you just forget your phone? you’re so flustered and nervous about a guy you’ve fucked so many times already.
“you were ready for this?”
he looks up and down at you, a cute elegant blue dress. it’s not too revealing, but it makes you look gorgeous!
“oh! well.. my date stood me up earlier..”
you pause, taking a deep breath in.
“whatever.. he was really shitty anyway”
you feel aiku pull you into his arms, one of his hands pressing onto your back pulling you closer.
“ooh! aiku.. i don’t think this.. this is appropriate-“
he quickly shuts you up with a kiss, his other hand holding your head, keep you locked into the kiss. you can’t help but reciprocate the kiss back.
he only lets go after you’re left panting. he watches your eyes, you feel nervous. but then he speaks again.
“i want you back.”
he pauses, his hold on your back moving lower.
“i don’t want to keep just fucking like this.. i want you”
he pauses again, this time he looks through you. you start to sweat a little, no freaking way! no way he just said that!
“i need you, i can’t let some other guy have you for himself.”
is he for real? no way! he has to be lying right?
“im not lying sweetheart, you are the missing piece in my life”
he understood you, he understands you. you feel a real.. genuine connection with aiku, you’ve never felt any spark or connection with any guy.
“so please? will you be my girlfriend?”
you snap back into reality, quickly processing what he just said. maybe you’ll give him a chance.
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“a-ah.. shit!”
you grip on to aiku’s shoulders tightly, he just keeps thrusting into you! the comfy leather seats are stained with a mix of your juices.
“fuuuckk… you’re so good to me baby..”
you press your head into his neck, peppering small kisses along his collarbone.
“hah-ha.. is this your way of thanking me?”
you can’t help but smile at his words, his hands tangle into your hair pulling you closer.
“you’re so warm y’know?”
he slowly moves your hands to your hips, keeping you bouncing on his shaft.
“soo.. glad that date stood you up”
he softly pecks a kiss to your cheek, moving down to your neck. you can barely respond, he’s just wayy too deep inside you! his hand moves to your stomach pressing on the bulge.
“just.. too big for you hm, your cunt is just begging for me right now…”
he laughs softly squeezing your hips, lifting your hips up again.
“yeah.. you’re too b-!“
your insides are immediately rearranged with one thrust.
“ahh.. fuckk..”
you look up at him, holding onto his biceps.
“i- i want more aiku..”
in a few seconds, oliver presses your back against the car seat. his hands keeping your legs pressed up to your chest. he quickly kisses your clit, licking up your juices.
“let’s do more then.. shall we?”
he lines himself against you, slowly teasing you with his tip. thrusting fully inside you when you start whining about how empty your stomach feels without, his finger pressing on the bulge on your stomach.
its gonna be a lonnnggg night for you two huh?
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gilbertscurls · 2 months ago
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unspoken words — chris sturniolo
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The evening had started off so well. You had planned a quiet night together — takeout, a movie, maybe a little bit of cuddling before the day ended. But now, hours had passed, and the clock on your wall seemed to mock you with its slow ticking. You’d already eaten your food, watched half the movie on your own, and now you were pacing around the apartment, checking your phone every few minutes.
Chris said he was just going to be a little late — something about a last-minute project. You hadn’t expected it to drag on this long. And then, of course, his phone had died.
You had tried calling him multiple times, but each attempt was met with that frustratingly familiar voicemail message. It was silly. You knew he was probably just busy, caught up in work. It wasn’t like Chris to ignore you on purpose.
But the more you waited, the more your mind began to spiral.
What if something happened to him? What if he was out with someone else? Maybe he was tired of you and was just avoiding you now.
The thoughts turned dark, twisting and growing, until you could barely recognize the person you were becoming. It felt like every ounce of trust you had built with him was suddenly shattered into pieces.
By the time the door opened, you were on the verge of tears.
Chris stepped inside, his eyes immediately finding yours, confusion written all over his face. "Hey, I’m sorry, babe. My phone died, and I lost track of time—"
That was all it took. The dam broke.
"Do you know how worried I’ve been?" Your voice cracked as the tears started to spill over, your anger bubbling to the surface. "I’ve been calling you! What, did you forget about me? Did you just not care that I couldn’t get in touch with you?"
Chris took a step toward you, but you backed away, shaking your head, your hands flying up in frustration.
"Don’t," you said, voice trembling. "You always do this. You make plans and then just disappear, and I never know where you are or what you’re doing. What if—what if something happened to you? What if I never heard from you again?"
You were pacing now, completely losing control of your emotions. "Are you out with someone else? Is that why you didn’t want to answer my calls? I—I can't keep doing this, Chris. I can't just sit here and wonder if you're abandoning me!"
Your voice was shaking with each word, but you couldn’t stop it. The accusations and fears tumbled out of you in a rush, each one more hurtful than the last. You hated yourself for it, hated how easily you slipped into that place of doubt, but it felt like the only way to stop the panic rising in your chest.
Chris didn’t say anything at first. He just watched you, his face unreadable, but his eyes softened as he took in the scene. You were standing there, trembling, sobbing, and he could see how much you were falling apart — how much you were terrified of losing him. He stayed quiet, letting you get it all out, because he knew you needed to say these things, even if they weren’t entirely true.
When you finally ran out of steam, your shoulders shaking with every breath, Chris slowly stepped forward. He reached for you gently, pulling you into his arms as if you were the only thing that mattered in the world.
"I’m not going anywhere," he whispered into your hair, his voice warm and steady. "I promise, I’m not. I didn’t mean to make you feel this way. I should’ve called, I should’ve kept in touch, and I’m sorry I made you feel like you couldn’t trust me."
He held you tighter, feeling the weight of your sobs against his chest. "I’m here, okay? I’m not leaving you, and I’ll do whatever it takes to show you that."
You clung to him, your tears soaking into his shirt, but somehow feeling a little lighter. The fear, the panic, slowly started to fade as you absorbed his words. Chris wasn’t going anywhere. He wasn’t abandoning you. This fight — no matter how ugly — didn’t change the fact that he loved you. That much was clear.
After a few moments, you pulled back, sniffling and wiping at your eyes. Chris smiled softly at you, his hand brushing some stray hair from your face, before he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.
"I’m sorry," he said again, his voice a little more steady now. "I should’ve been more careful with you. I’ll do better."
The next morning, you woke up to find Chris sitting on the couch, phone in hand, scrolling through Amazon.
"What are you doing?" you asked, your voice still a little groggy from the emotional exhaustion of the night before.
Chris looked up, his face breaking into a sheepish grin. "Buying five more phone chargers. I’m not letting this happen again."
You blinked, trying to process what he just said, before the corners of your mouth turned up into a smile. "Five? You’re really going all out, huh?"
"I can’t trust one charger anymore," he replied with a wink, his eyes gleaming with affection. "I’m making sure that when I tell you I’m working late, you can actually get in touch with me. I’m not going to make you feel like that again."
You couldn’t help but laugh, even as your heart swelled with warmth. Chris was a bit of an idiot sometimes, but in moments like this, you knew how much he cared.
"Thank you," you murmured, your voice soft but full of meaning.
Chris stood up, walking over to you and pulling you into a hug. "Anything for you, babe. I’m not going anywhere."
And this time, you believed him. You really did.
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tag list: @stuwniolo, @sturnobsessedwh0re, @matts-myloverboy, @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut, @lizzymacdonald06, @asherrisrandom, @sturniolowhore69, @faith5drpepper, @emely9274, @psychologyloverfr, @lovetaylorrussellgrr, @conspiracy-ash, @helpimateenagerinlove, @ghostlythinggoingaround, @sturmatt, @chris-hallelujah, @goingtojohnkramershouseee, @wurlibydominicfike, @shadowthesim237, @courta13, @frankdelreyy, @evansturn, @bamsblooming, @backwardshatnick, @whore4chris
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shaykai · 4 months ago
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Nightmare But He’s Randomly Passive
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This is an official update post on the state of the comic
Currently speaking, the comic is discontinued. I have a lot of love for it still, but making comics takes a lot of time and effort that I don’t have to dedicate to it, and my focus has shifted from UTMV to other interests.
I want to thank everyone so much for all the love and support you’ve all shown the comic, it was an amazing experience and I still smile when I look back on it
Beginning of The Comic
Below the cut are the unedited scripts for the next parts for anyone who is interested.
(Full disclosure, I use the word ‘script’ loosely. A lot of the comic work was done on the fly, so a lot of the details are vague at best)
Dream: (eyes go wide) Nightmare is here- we need to figure out what he’s up to before something terrible happens.
Blue: You got it! Let’s go get him-
(Killer throws a knife, Blue narrowly dodges)
Killer: The Boss shows up once and you’re ready to just pretend I’m not here? Ouch. Guess I’ll have to remind you who to keep your eyes on. Horror, mind helping out?
Horror: Not at all.
***
(They convince NM to go on missions with them. Dream notices but can’t reach him- write a star sans segment where he plans out how to get to NM. They fight like three times without trouble- fourth time is when dream finds NM)
Stars & Bad Sanses fighting
Dream’s eyes go wide as he senses NM’s aura: Blue, Ink, he’s here- do you have them under control?
Ink: We got it!
Blue: Be safe!
Dream starts B-Lining for NM, Cross notices
Cross: Shit- he’s after Nightmare!
Cross takes off after him only for Blue to get directly in his way: Sorry! Dream’s busy.
The others take off after Dream, Ink catches Dust and Horror as Killer narrowly skirts by. Ink tries to catch him as well but Horror and Dust intervene. (Ink catches them with several bone attacks before getting slammed into a tree by a gaster blaster, barely ducking his head down as an axe gets stuck in the tree)
Ink: Shoot- Dream, incoming baddie!
Dream: Killer-! (Killer tackles him, Dream holds a knife inches from his face between his sabers)
Killer: Heya Dreamboat! Sorry ‘bout the Boss, his schedule is pretty packed today. Maybe we can hang out instead, whaddya say? (Dream manages to shove him off, they start circling each other)
Dream: I don’t have time for this- whatever Nightmare is up to, I’ll stop him.
Killer: That a no? Too bad, you were cute, too. (Winks)
(They fight, it’s pretty back and forth and Killer keeps Dream from getting too far away until Ink appears, catching Killer’s feet with paint and making him trip, Dream’s sabers are about to be brought down on his soul- unintentionally- Dream looks as scared as Killer does)
Nightmare throws his weapons and knock Dream’s sabers to the ground. They both freeze and stare at each other, Dream starts shaking.
Everyone stops to stare at them before Dust teleports over and helps Killer up.
Dream: Nightmare-
Nightmare gives him a hard stare before turning and running into a portal. The others teleport over and run into it, the portal closes before the Stars can get to it
Dream: Brother, wait-!!
Ink: Was that… Nightmare? Why does he?…
Blue: Oh Stars…
(Dream is crying, they both hug him)
Killer: Boss-
Everyone slouches as Nightmare’s aura lashes out. He rushes to his room.
Dust: …. Fuck.
***
Horror slides some food in- figure out what it is??
Nightmare: (He’s been cooking everyone’s favorite food.. Hm.)
NM exiting his room for the first time in weeks
Dust: Boss?
Killer: Wow, are you a piece of paper? Cause you look straight up terrible.
Dust: (ha) that pun was awful.
Cross: Have you been sleeping?….
Nightmare glares: I don’t have to sleep.
Horror: But you can and you should.
Killer: Yeah, like any of us do what we’re supposed to.
Horror: ‘Least you came back out… You need help with something?
Nightmare: I’ve reread everything in my personal library. I’m gathering new books, then I’ll be gone.
Dust: I’ve got a few recs for ya. If uh, you want them, that is.
Nightmare: …… Make it quick.
Dust: You got it.
(They get a few books, Nightmare vaguely compliments Dust’s taste in literature) (maybe Dust offers up a book he’s already read, NM says as much before hesitating and taking it)
Dust: Hey. Before you go back to your room, maybe you could… Stick around for a bit. Seeing you around is good for morale, you know.
Nightmare: Your morale is fine without my immediate presence.
He leaves back to his room to find a stack of papers and a few pencils with a small note saying “sometimes drawing helps. Dumb, I know. Try it out sometime.” From Cross and one of Killer’s cats (maybe with a whoops how did this get in here, note)
He sighs, pushing the papers off of his desk
Nightmare: this is ridiculous. (He sits, going to grab a book before the cat jumps onto his lap) no, get off- (it lays down, comfortable and purring)
Nightmare: How does Killer put up with you? (He scowls at the cat, glaring for a long moment before reluctantly petting it. He does that for a moment before signing and rolling his eyes as he picks up one of the books Dust gave him) Ridiculous.
(Those are all the script pages I had! I had plans for more after this, specifically a scene for the Star Sanses to plan and console Dream, and a plan to talk to Nightmare. I don’t remember if I worked out an ending or not, but it would’ve been happy! I’m a sap and I need the brothers to hug.)
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clone-anon · 1 year ago
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I miss Tech. I know you might not be able to write for awhile and I get that. If you feel up to it though could you please write a fic where Tech is able to come to Pabu after tantis and finds out the Marauder is gone. Maybe reader (platonic/aromantic) comforts him with hugs and memories tks
Hello! I have some pretty strong feelings about Tech and how we still didn't see him in the entire last third of The Bad Batch. Here is hoping he will come home soon. And in manifestation of this....
Tech x GN!Reader
Warnings: Mention of injuries, but nothing explicit. No indication of whether Tech was CX-2 or not. Tech lives, obviously!
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You sat on the landing pad near the ocean. It was empty now, but the last few remnants of the Marauder were only recently removed. In the rush to get to Tantiss, the people of Pabu did their best to help clean up the mess from the explosion while Wrecker, Hunter, and Crosshair left with Phee. You were among them, trying to grab whatever you could and sort through anything that you felt the brothers would want to keep. There wasn't much. Thankfully Gonky, Lula, Tech's goggles and various pieces of armor were already removed when the ship exploded. You did, however, manage to find and keep one thing.
You smiled to yourself as you looked down at the yoke and the lever used to jump to hyperspace.
"You recovered it?" Tech asked as he approached.
"I did," you replied with a smile. "I thought you might want to keep it."
Tech sat next to you with a flinch and sighed.
"You okay?" you asked.
"I'm better today." He was still healing, but mostly there. His family had waited until he was better to tell him about the Marauder. He didn't take it well, although he tried to insist it was merely a ship that could be replaced. You all knew better, but it was Tech's way to try to process the information.
Tech reached for the yoke and you gladly gave it to him. He held it in his hands as he had done hundreds of times while piloting the ship. It fit his grip perfectly.
"I requested this particular part," he said. "I requested the modifications to the Marauder. I was nine, but argued that since they felt we were nearly ready for battle, we should be able to get the best equipment. They made some of the modifications, but I made most of them. Even the ones they deemed unnecessary."
He reached for the lever and you handed it to him. He felt so natural holding these pieces, yet they were less familiar since they were no longer attached to anything.
"What was it like when you first flew the Marauder?" you asked.
Tech fondly smiled and answered, "The training simulations were not adequate, but I adapted quickly."
He grimaced, now faced with the thought that he would never fly his ship again. He would never have that home again. He took in a breath. Things changed, but he wasn't alone. He made it to Pabu, their new home. He put the yoke and lever aside and tried to smile at you. You opened your arms to invite him in for a hug if he wanted it. He didn't hesitate. He'd been separated from his family and friends for so long. He rested his head against yours and you held each other. While he wasn't usually one to cry, a few tears trickled down his face.
"I cannot explain why I feel this way. I'm home. We lived. I should only feel gratitude."
"It's okay, Tech," you reassured. "Sometimes I can't put my finger on my feelings, but I simply feel them. We're all built a little different. Besides, you survived a terrible fall. It takes a toll on your body, including your exceptional mind."
He nodded and took in a deep breath. You held him a little closer and waited for him to feel ready to let go. You stayed up with him and watched the ocean while he spent the night telling you all kinds of stories about flying and the modifications he wanted to make on a new ship.
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irisintheafterglow · 1 year ago
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HAND THREE - TWO PAIR
summary: in a season where you're determined to fly under the radar, newly-returned crown prince!touya todoroki has other ideas. in this hand, a date is had.
wc: 2.5k
cw/tags: royalty!au/regency!au, fem!reader, some swearing, banter and dialogue driven, fake dating, pining and tension, todoroki enji jumpscare LOL
note: the two wolves living inside me is one wanting to rush the hell out of slow burn and the other telling me to make it painfully slow. however, i broke a little and made the pining a little obvious in this chapter oops. one day i will achieve the emotional release of s2 bridgerton bee sting scene. hope you enjoy !!!!
likes, reblogs, and replies are appreciated <3
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“Show.” 
“You first.”
“I’m royalty.”
“And I have the higher stack. Now, show,” you repeat and he scoffs, the corner of his mouth tugging upward and creasing the deep purple scars on his cheek. He turns his two cards face-up and, sure enough, you’d snatched another victory from the self-proclaimed Prince of Calculation. “I win again,” you smile and he begrudgingly pushes the pot to your side of the table, an amalgamation of garden pebbles, stray buttons, and a few gold coins you managed to produce. You were using whatever you had to gamble and the prince didn’t seem to mind. Touya, you remind yourself. You were supposed to call him by his first name throughout this whole charade, but it seemed as foreign on your tongue as a protruding third set of teeth. 
“You’re a much more dangerous woman than you give yourself credit for,” he muses with a clever glint in his eyes. Over the course of the last month or so, you’d accumulated an immunity to his unwavering stares and scalding eyes; lately, it actually seemed you found a certain affinity for his intense nature, even when you were its only target. His sweetly poisonous words were the latest test to your composure. “If we dressed you as a man for the night, we could relieve an entire club of their purses before the clock strikes ten.” His pretty fingers dealt another two cards and you peeked at them from the bottom of your vision. Queen of hearts and two of clubs. Not the best hand. 
“Hmm. How much of the pot would you use to bail me out for invading said club?” You lay out the first three cards, the flop, and flip the first over before betting a conservative amount. Four of diamonds. 
“Who ever said anything about bail? I’d just sneak you out. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time,” he answers, calling your bet, and you can’t tell if he’s kidding. It was another piece you were still trying to solve of the puzzle that was the prince of the Todoroki family, how he joked so casually about breaking laws and dodging authority. The nonchalance of his recklessness made your stomach turn, sometimes, but you couldn’t tell if it was from fear or intrigue. You flip the second card of the flop. Two of hearts. A pair, if all else failed. You just had to hope he didn’t have anything either. 
“For a royal, you seem to know a concerning amount about rule breaking. Do you have any intent to corrupt me?” 
“By the end of our courtship, possibly.” Jack of diamonds. Not what you were hoping for as the third card, by any means. A flash of excitement lights up behind your opponent’s eyes, too purposeful to be genuine. You mentally added his poker tells to the never-ending list of things to figure out about him, right under the number of crimes he’s committed against the government. Tossing in a few medium-value flower petals, you’re unsurprised when he matches your bet again. 
“Our courtship which, I’ll remind you, is causing quite the stir in the ton,” you point out while revealing the turn. Seven of hearts. You try not to let your disappointment in your current hand show on your face. The prince, you notice, looks like he’s trying a little too hard to contain his excitement. “You know, I suspect they might be rooting for us.”
“That’d be a new experience for me. Never received too much support in my endeavors before.” He places a high bet and you have no choice but to match it. If you were right about him lying, you would learn something new about his poker strategy; but, if you were wrong, you wouldn’t hear the end of it for the rest of the day. You flip the river and your heart stutters. Two of diamonds. You’re careful with your next bet, knowing that three of a kind wasn’t the best or worst hand you could create. The prince, however, pushes his entire hoard into the pot with a challenge in his eyes. He was trying to force you to fold. 
You match the bet and reveal your hand. 
Two pair versus three of a kind. The prince was bluffing, and you won again.
“At least this time, you’re not alone.” The admission is obvious but still catches both of you off-guard when you say it. You’re about to apologize for being too sentimental when that unreadable look passes over his face again, sudden as a lightning strike and gone just as quickly. 
“I guess you’re right,” he murmurs, relinquishing the remaining pot of knick-knacks to you. “Though I will say, having my ass handed to me in a card game was not a part of my plan.”
“A woman with intellect is never part of a man’s plan, yet she prevails all the same,” you conclude and he hums in agreement, collecting the remaining cards and slotting them back into their box. A concerning thought occurs to you and you glance around the secluded palace courtyard with new-found suspicion. His eyes follow your own, watching you keenly in a way that was both comforting and unsettling. 
“What is it?” 
“Will the servants not whisper about a woman playing a man’s game?” 
“They will whisper that you won, and that is what matters,” he states like a well-known fact. “Why? Is something bothering you about them?” 
“No, I’m just mulling over this whole arrangement again.” You wave him off dismissively and take another sip of lemonade from your teacup. A drink which, when you’d finally agreed to meet the prince at the palace for a day, he ordered presumably because you both shared a distaste for tea. “How odd it is and how people gossip so.”
“A lady beating the prince at poker is hardly a scandal compared to what transpired last week,” he recalls with terribly-hidden amusement, breaking off a piece of scone and smearing a glob of berry preserves onto it. “Wouldn’t you agree?” Your cheeks heat when you think of the memory and you snap your fan open to cool yourself and hide your burning face. It certainly wasn’t your proudest moment, to say the least. 
“Would you like me to retrieve a stick to keep your competition at bay?” You had jokingly asked, following his distracted gaze. It was your third ball of the season and your third public appearance with the prince; both you and your co-conspirator were forced to acknowledge the increasing number of interested suitors trying to pry you away. Dances, you found, were one of the few moments where other men weren’t climbing over each other for your attention. The only problem was being forced to share breathing space with him for an extended period of time. “Your Highness, why are you glaring like that?”
“I said to stop calling me that, and I’m not glaring,” he mumbled, very obviously glaring and avoiding your eyes. His hand stiffens around your waist, making your already-awkward distance from him more uncomfortable. It didn’t take long to notice that he was a fine dancer when he was with any other partner but you, and you figured it was because being in such close proximity was not part of your agreement. You raise a skeptical eyebrow, finally making him look at you when the silence indicates your displeasure. “Pay me no mind. I am only–”
“Moping like a kicked dog, that’s what you’re doing,” you interject and, in a blink, you’re back in another standoff with his intense stare.
“I don’t recall when you gained the right to comment on my behaviors so crassly.” Your eyebrows pinch, taken aback by his sudden hostility. His eyes were always burning, like embers in a fireplace, and it felt like the longer you looked at them, the less likely you’d be able to pull away. After a few moments of staring him down, you back off with a frustrated huff. You think you feel some of the tension leave him, too. 
“If we are to keep up this ruse in a believable manner, I suggest you confide in me from time to time, especially if it causes you to act in unfavorable ways,” you state simply, your irritation obvious. 
“You know nothing of my unfavorable ways.” The venom in his voice makes your heart sink, against your own judgment. His expression doesn’t soften, but his voice does. “Trust me. It’s not your burden to bear,” he says in a low tone and goosebumps spread across your arms, despite the fabric of your gloves and the sleeves of your dress. He meets your eyes and you could have sworn his gaze flickers to the neckline of your gown, but the action, like so many of his movements, is too quick to comment on. “So, let’s keep to our sides of the street, shall we?” 
“You’re insufferable,” you hiss, letting your politely smiling face slip as the strings conclude the dance. “Enjoy the rest of the evening. I feel a bit faint.” The muscles in his jaw clenches and you turn on your heel to beeline for an exit when a strong hand grabs you by the wrist and pulls you backward. Before you can register where you’re moving, your hand is placed firmly on his forearm and you’re a split-second from slapping him when–
“Touya.” Shit. With a blank mind, you remember to curtsy from pure muscle memory, dipping deeply toward the ground while the prince bends at the waist.
“Good evening, Father.” Touya’s voice becomes empty, devoid of all sarcasm, teasing, and charm. A glance at his face tells the same tale, blank and emotionless. The only indication of his true thoughts came the slight shake in his arm and how he unconsciously tugged you closer and closer to his side. You let yourself be pulled in and your free hand moved on its own, coming to rest on top of his and running your thumb over his knuckles. He exhales shakily. “Father, this is–”
“I know who you are,” he says before you could be properly introduced, making your nostrils flare. The man besides you bristles and you wonder how such a hard-faced, stoic man could make such a reckless and carefree son. You’d never seen King Todoroki except in victory parades and newsprints of his alliance with King All Might, but you could recognize the family’s flaming eyes from miles away. You decided that, no matter how irritating the prince was, his father was lower on your ranking of the Todoroki royals. “Should you marry, are you aware of the responsibility of being the wife of a king?” 
“I believe she is called a queen, Your Majesty,” you hear yourself say before you can stop yourself. From beside you, the prince makes a noise somewhere between a choke and a snort, and you direct your attention to the floorboards in hopes of surviving the king’s scathing reply. Despite the chatter of the party around you, it feels like your words were echoing off the gilded ceilings. The reprimand, however, never comes. The king turns back to his son with a look of suppressed wrath before turning and stalking away, a crowd of nobles crowing for his attention. 
“I can’t believe you just did that,” he whispers in disbelief as he hurriedly guides you out of the hall and into one of the manor’s gardens, still within sight of nosy mothers but out of their earshot. Your hand hasn’t left his arm, nor has he tried to pry it off. If anything, you click into his side like a missing puzzle piece, and you’re confusingly reluctant to let go. “That was the worst possible way you could have answered that question,” the prince continues and your stomach turns. 
“I’m sorry if I embarrassed you,” you reply with poorly masked shame, lowering your head and letting him walk ahead. Your hand detaches from his arm and you’re struck by the sudden lack of warmth. He turns sharply to look at you, looks back at his empty arm, and then back at you before closing the few feet between you. His eyes were burning into you again but he said nothing, watching you watch the blades of grass surrounding your shoes. Your voice is as quiet as the swaying summer wind. “If I have jeopardized our plan, I understand if you–”
“Stop,” he commands, and it takes a moment to register his gloved fingers under your chin, gently but firmly tilting your head to look at him. Your eyes trace the jagged lines of where his skin meets his scars and the world around you quiets. “I am…the opposite of angry with your actions.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s not an easy task, talking back to my father. Yet, you performed it as easily as breathing,” he explains with a soft awe in his expression that made your breath catch in your chest. 
“I guess I’ve had good practice, countering your arguments for the better half of the summer,” you agree hesitantly. What the hell was this feeling? For whatever reason, the world around you temporarily faded to static noise and blurred paintings, with the only decipherable images being the man in front of you. “So, you’re not unhappy with my behavior around your father?”
“I have never been prouder to be seen with you,” he reassures you and you finally crack a smile, his hand leaving your face and his feet stepping back to a respectful distance. “On another note, can you recall what we were arguing about before we were interrupted?”
“I can’t, unfortunately. I believe I was about to leave you alone on the dance floor to mingle with other suitors,” you joke and, though his expression remains relaxed, his eyes darken subtly. 
“I wouldn’t let them so much as breathe in your direction,” he declares, your breath becoming stuck in your lungs again. “Plus, you were saying that you required a stick to fight them off.”
“I did not say I required a stick,” you counter, lightheartedly bumping your shoulder against his while you make your way back into the manor. He merely smiles, a rare, genuine smile. “Though, I would like to apologize for my brash observations.” 
“You are forgiven.”
“Thank you,” you exhale, following him to the refreshments table.
“And…”
“Nevermind,” you backtrack, but he continues nonetheless.
“As reparation for insinuating that I act like an abused animal–”
“Which you do,” you retort quietly and he chuckles, shaking his head. 
“Next week, you will accompany me in receiving a visiting ally prince,” he says. “As it would be dreadfully boring to do alone and you, thankfully, bruised my ego, I will be dragging you with me on his guided tour of the kingdom’s market district.” 
“Must I really attend?”
“Who’s acting like the kicked dog now?” He smirks and you have no choice but to go along with his plan. Now, after several rounds of beating his royal ass in poker, it was time for you to leave and prepare for the social night between the Takami and Todoroki kingdoms. 
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babymetaldoll · 8 months ago
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Are you mine? - Chapter eleven: "The pieces this job takes"
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Summary: The Reids welcome little Vinny, and Raven will have to deal with being a sister now. The team has to say good bye to a member, and Spencer will just have to deal with changes one more time.  Word count: 11.094 Warnings: This is a painful chapter for Spencer.  A/N: Sorry I couldn't post last week,  I had an accident (don't worry, I'm ok). I love Anderson's moment to shine in this chapter, and I hate putting Spencer through more trauma. Also, I was so sad writing Raven's tantrum... I totally understand her. 
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(Y/N)’s point of view 
Morgan took six months off after what happened to him. He had to recover mentally and physically, which was neither easy nor fast. I know some things happened to him he wasn’t sharing with us, not even with Savannah. He didn’t want to be a burden for her, and that’s a feeling I can absolutely understand.
We saw him a lot though, which was good. We were there for him the day he and Savanna got married in a beautiful ceremony, and he was there for us the day Vincent was born.
Considering the team was down two members, Hotch couldn’t let Spencer stay at Quantico the last couple of weeks before the baby’s due date. Of course, that means I was in the bullpen when my water broke.
Honestly, sometimes I wonder why we didn't leave the FBI sooner. I'm fully aware I keep saying the same the entire time, but it’s shocking how things were a hot mess and we never noticed. Why were we so blind?
I wanted to kill Hotch for forcing Spencer to go with the team to solve a case in Alabama when I was so close to my due date. I understood things were critical without Morgan on the team and with me not being able to fly. But yet, you’d expect some humanity. I guess sometimes work comes first for some people.
My water broke as I walked from Garcia’s office to my desk to pick up some files. I froze on my spot and didn’t know what to do for a few seconds. My mind went blank. That was not supposed to happen like that. Not with Spencer away. And definitely not in the middle of the office.
- “Anderson…”- I looked around me and found him at his desk, typing something.- “Sonny, can you help me?”
- “What happened, Reid?”- ever since I married Spencer, he has loved calling me by my new last name.
- “Uhm… can you come over?”
- “Give me a minute.”- and he kept typing, not even looking at me. I didn’t want to yell I was almost popping a baby right there, but my friend wasn’t giving me another chance.
- “I can’t wait. Please.”
- “Come on, Reid.”
- “Agent Grant Anderson, I need you. Now.”- a few other heads turned as my voice filled the bullpen. Anderson turned to me shocked, but I’m guessing my freaked-out face forced him to bite his tongue at whatever he was going to say and he rushed over to me.
- “What… oh shit.”- he looked at the puddle on the floor between my legs and understood it all in a second.
- “Yes.”- I cut him a short smile and took a deep breath. I had to do my best not to freak out too.
- “What now?”- Anderson whispered, remaining calm.
- “I need you to drive me to the hospital. Garcia is busy helping the team.”
- “Ok, do you wanna call Reid first?”
- “First, I wanna call my doctor. And I need to tell Garcia. Spencer is gonna freak out and there is no need to get him worried when this can still take a few more hours.”- I did my best to remain calm knowing as soon as Spencer knew what was happening, he was ditching the team and taking the first flight back home.
- “Ok, you wanna sit down while I get Garcia?”
- “I don’t wanna get the chair all dirty.”- I argued as Anderson moved a chair closer.
- “Don’t be silly, Reid. Sit down, I’ll bring Garcia and your phone so you can dial your doctor, ok?”- I simply nodded and watched him sprint across the office.
Raven took her sweet time when she was born, but not our Vincent. He was ready to take over the world in no time. Contractions hit me hard and I was worried my husband wasn’t going to make it on time to be with me during labor. Did I tell him? Of course not, I knew he was freaking out and I didn’t want to worry him anymore.
Spencer called me as soon as he could. I didn’t get to him the first time I dialed, so he got the news from Garcia when Anderson was taking me to the hospital.
- “I’m ok, honey. I promise.”- I whispered as soon as I heard his voice on the other side of the line.- “Doctor Feldmann is going to be waiting for me at the hospital, and Frank and Mikey are on their way over.”
- “I’ll ask Morgan to go too.”
- “He has his very own pregnant wife to take care of, hun.”- I reminded him, but I could almost see Spencer’s scowl all the way from Alabama.
- “I can’t believe I am not there with you.”
- “It might take a few more hours, so you’ll be ok. We’ll wait for you to start the fun part.”- I joked knowing there was no way I could predict that, but I needed to give Spencer some peace of mind.
- “I’ll be there as soon as I can. I’ll call you when my flight arrives.”- I heard Spencer sigh at the other side of the line and my chest tightened knowing how bad he felt being away from me at that minute.
- “I love you so much honey bunny. Be safe, ok?”
- “I’m so sorry, chipmunk. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
- “I know. Please, take care.”
- “Ok, nugget. Your mom is on her way with Raven, I got you ice, and some marshmallows in case your sugar drops. I think we are covered. Do you have to start pushing already? Shit, I’m not ready for that. Please don’t start pushing yet.”- Frank rushed into my room, nearly hyperventilating. He paced across the room, clearly freaking out, as I stared at him, and the nurse raised an eyebrow.
- “Is he the dad?”
- “Nope-” I replied chuckling- “He is not even the godfather. Just my best friend.”
- “Basically I’m like a brother to you.”- Frank replied right away, and pretended to be shocked - “And I am not Vinny’s godfather? Are you serious? What are you talking about? I feel betrayed.”
- “I told you, it’s gonna be Mikey. You are Raven’s godfather. You can’t have all the kids.”
- “We are not having this conversation right now. You are clearly sedated.”- I chuckled and stared at my friend, who crossed his arms on his chest and looked at me from the end of my bed.
- “You do realize I haven’t gotten anything yet. I am not even…”- but a contraction stopped my words and ended that silly argument. Frank moved quickly to my side and held my hand tight. He didn’t even say a word, he just stared at me, obviously concerned, and waited until the pain had passed.
- “I’m so not having kids.”- he whispered after a few seconds, making me chuckle.
- “That’s ok, just can you check my vagina and see if I’m dilated already?”- I joked and saw the color leaving his face.- “I’m joking! Go out and wait for my mom. I’ll be fine.”
- “No way. I am not leaving you alone. I’m not getting anywhere near your vagina, but I am not leaving you alone until Spencer is here.”
And he didn’t leave. Frank stayed in my room until my husband got there, five hours later. Morgan, Mikey, and my mom kept me company too. They took Raven to get ice cream from the cafeteria and honestly helped me stay sane. Savannah, who was four months pregnant by then, and still dealing with all the nausea and morning sickness, helped keep me sane during the entire time. She was not only my friend, but also a doctor, and that always helped during delivery.
I will always be grateful for the family of friends we’ve created along the way.
Spencer’s point of view
It was a mess, nothing went as planned. I was in Alabama with the team and took the first flight back home. Garcia called me, nearly crying ‘cos she couldn’t go with my wife to the hospital, she had to work the case along with the team. I froze in place for a few seconds, not knowing what to do first.
- “Anderson is gonna drive her to the hospital. I'll be with her as soon as I can.”
- “I’m on my way.”- that was all I could say before I hung up and turned to Hotch.- “I have to leave. Now.”
Morgan, Frank, and Mikey had to take my place in the hospital while I was away. I nearly got into the pilot’s cabin and yelled at him to take us home faster if possible. Those were the longest four hours of my life, it was torture. I thought I was going to go crazy sitting there thinking my wife was alone in a hospital delivering our baby, and all because work forced me to be out of town.
When I finally got to the hospital, I rushed in flashing my FBI badge to everyone and anyone who could even think of trying to stop me. Am I proud of that? No. Do I regret it? Hell no! I just wanted to be with my wife as soon as possible, no matter what.
- “Reid!”- I heard Morgan’s voice as I rushed down the hall, trying to find the right room. He was with Savannah, Mikey, and Raven.
- “Dada!”- she escaped Mikey’s arms and ran to me. I squatted and opened my arms to hold her. - “Mommy said bad words.”
I chuckled at her comment and kissed her forehead as I stood up and walked toward our friends, who stood up as soon as they saw me.
- “I think today we can spare her a few bad words.”- I whispered into my daughter’s ear and heard her giggle.- “Guys, thank you for being here.”
- “Nothing to thank us for”- Morgan replied immediately- “You should put an eye on your pretty girl. She looked like she was about to pop your kid five minutes ago.”- I widened my eyes, gave Raven to Mikey, and ran to the room.
(Y/N) was squatting on a ball, holding her mother’s hand as Frank kneeled beside her, talking nonstop and looking honestly confused.
- “Oh thank god.”- he mouthered the second he saw me. I rushed in and held my wife tight. She grunted and shook in my arms. That’s when I realized how late I was.
- “I’m here, ma cherie. I’m here.”
- “I know. Vincent is almost here too.”- she whispered and didn’t let go. For a few minutes, it was just us holding each other. I wanted to ask her to forgive me for being so late, but words didn’t leave my lips. Instead, I just kept her close to me for a little longer.
- “I’m gonna get the nurse.”- Sofia said, probably to give us some privacy.
- “And I'm gonna leave this room before our friendship is forever scarred with gore scenes I will never be able to forget.”- Frank added and walked to the door.- “I’ll be out with the guys and my goddaughter.”
- “Thank you.”- that’s all I managed to say, but I’ve always been sure he understood the depth of my words. For a few minutes, it was just us. (Y/N) asked me to help her move to the bed, and I wrapped my arms around her to help her support the weight of her belly.
- “Did you tell Hotch I hate him for keeping you away?”- she muttered in the middle of what was clearly a very painful contraction.
- “Yes, I did.”
I did not. It wasn’t necessary, (Y/N) had made it clear before we left for the case that she was never going to forgive Hotch if the baby was born while I was out of town. The entire team knew it, my wife hadn’t been subtle at all. She stood next to the elevator's door before we left for the case, looked him in the eyes, and said: “If the baby is here and Spencer is still away, I won’t be back for work, ever again.”
- “Good.”- she whispered as I helped her sitting on the hospital bed.- “Honey Bunny, I think I’m ready to push.”
- “Wait just a few more minutes. Your mom is coming with the doctor.”
- “Shit, fuck, for Christ's sake! What shitted mother fucker thought this fuckery was in fact fair for women??!- my wife shouted every curse with such profound heart and pain, it was clear she needed more medication. Who knew when she had gotten her epidural.
- “You know, the first thing Raven told me when I got here was how you had said many bad words today.”- I whispered in her ear as I kept rubbing her back, trying to help her through the pain.
- “I fucking told Mikey to take her out, I didn’t want her to be traumatized and watch me losing it in pain.”- (Y/N) seemed mortified.
- “It’s ok, I told her you were allowed to curse a little today.”- Sofia and a nurse walked into the room, and a doctor followed them a few seconds after.
- “Ok Mrs. Reid, your baby boy seems to be ready.”- doctor Feldmann announced as he sat at the end of the bed and checked on my wife.
- “He feels ready as well.”- she mumbled, doing her best to be strong. I just scooped a little closer and held her a little tighter. I’ve never known what to do during delivery but praying and holding her hand tight. Being next to her while she delivers our babies is magical and agonizing at the same time. I will never love the process, not if I know she is going through an excruciating pain and there is nothing I can do to stop it.
It only took thirty minutes and Vincent Spencer Reid was there with us. His soft cries filled the room and my heart stopped. He was so small, so innocent, so vulnerable. Dr Feldmann placed him on (Y/N)’s chest and she caressed his back carefully, as the two of us stared at him with a loving smile on our lips.
- “Hello baby boy.”- she whispered and her voice shook as tears fell from her eyes.- “Aren’t you a pretty boy. My pretty boy.”
- “Hey there, Vincent. I’m your dad. Hello.”- I ran my fingers down his tiny arm and smiled at him.- “I hope you like baseball ‘cos it’s the only sport I’ve managed to learn so far.”
- “Maybe he’ll teach you, look at those hands, they are so big.”- (Y/N) whispered and touched his fist with her index - “Looks like the hand of a basketball player.”
- “Or maybe he’ll be an artist.”- I suggested and (Y/N) looked at me with a bigger smile.
- “I would love that.”- I stared into her eyes and caressed her cheek a few times, then ran my fingers up to her temples, and wiped a little of her sweat off before kissing her.
- “You did you good, ma cheriè. I’m so proud of you.”
- “I’m glad it went well and that he is here. Wanna go tell the rest?”
- “Not yet.”- I whispered and touched Vinny’s back one more time, enjoying the feeling of having my son there with me for the very first time - “Give me another minute of this.”
- “All the time you want.”- my wife answered and chuckled- “We have a son.”
- “We have a son.”- I smiled at those words and tears blurred my vision for a moment. I had a son, and he was perfect. Life was perfect.
Mikey stood up the second he saw me and his smile mimicked mine as I announced Vinny was there and that everything had gone well. He, Frank, and Morgan hugged me, tapping on my back, and congratulating me. Well, us. I smiled at them as I turned to Raven and opened my arms for her. She was cuddled in Sofia's arms and hesitated for a few seconds before moving toward me.
- “Come on birdy. Do you wanna see mommy and meet your brother?”- Sofia kissed her cheek and encouraged her to go with me, but she still wasn’t sure. I held her and kissed her cheek a few times before announcing.
- “(Y/N) said you guys can come in and say hi after Raven meets her brother. He really wanted to hang out with her first.”
- “Of course man.”- Morgan replied.- “Your baby boy has to meet his big sister first.”
- “I’m not big.”- Raven whispered.- “I’m a baby too.”
I should have seen that reaction coming, honestly. Raven hadn’t been excited during the first few months of (Y/N)’s pregnancy. She actually threw a massive tantrum the day we explained to her what was happening. It hadn’t been easy and Frank stepped up as her godfather and helped her see the benefits of having a little brother. However, we knew Raven would get jealous no matter how. And it was our job to show her nothing was going to change.
- “Baby girl, are you ready?”- I whispered as I held my daughter in my arms and started walking to the room. Raven hid her face on my shoulder and wrapped her arms around me very tight. I could almost feel her little heart beating hard inside her chest. It was a big day for her. The same as it was for us.
- “Hey birdy!”- (Y/N) whispered from her bed, where she sat, nursing Vincent.- “Vinny was just asking for you.”
Raven��s curiosity was bigger than her fear, clearly, ‘cos she slowly moved her face from my neck and turned to look at her brother.
- “Look, that’s your brother, Vincent.”- I sat next to (Y/N) and Raven moved in my arms, trying to get the closest look she could to her brother. She was silent judging the baby. I kept my eyes on her as she raised her little hand and carefully pressed a finger on his cheek.
- “He is so Squishy!”- Raven whispered and giggled.- “Vinny is squishy!!”
- “Yes, he is. And he is very tiny, are you gonna help us teach him all the fun things we do?”- my wife held Raven’s small hand and placed a kiss on it, making our daughter giggle one more time- “Like singing and playing and having tea parties?”
- “Can he wear a tiara?”- I tried not to chuckle at her question ‘cos she was incredibly serious about it.
- “If he wants to, of course.”
- “Don’t worry Birdy. We are still going out every Saturday morning on our dad and daughter dates.”
- “Just us?”- Raven looked at me and her little eyes shone with excitement.
- “Just us.”- I murmured and kissed the top of her head.
- “Do you wanna hold him?”- (Y/N) asked and Raven couldn’t believe it.
- “Yes Mommy!! Please!!”
- “Ok, sit here next to me.”- and as our daughter followed all the instructions my wife gave her and I placed a pillow on her small lap, I stared at the scene unraveling in front of me as I did my best not to cry, but tears kept filling my eyes. My daughter was now a big sister and was holding her little brother in her arms. I chuckled and locked eyes with (Y/N) for a moment. And as we smiled at each other, all I could think of was: I have two kids. Everything I do, I do it for my wife and our two kids.
You don’t know how that thought can change a person. The way it made me feel so much stronger and weaker at the same time. I would do anything for my family. I would fight the world to keep them safe. And at the same time, it petrified me knowing I was now living with my heart outside my chest. They were all I had, all I loved. My entire life.
I never thought I’d have a conversation about this a few months later, with Morgan, right after he came back to the team. We first had a surprise baby shower for him and Savannah in the meeting room. She was nearly on her due date and Morgan was clearly freaking out about becoming a dad, so we tried to help him relax a little and share a nice moment before a big case. (Y/N) was already back working, so she organized everything with Garcia and Savannah. Raven was in Playground and Sofia took care of Vincent while we worked, and though life was crazy, you could say we were managing.
We had a case that very same day that took us to Witchita, a double homicide and a child abduction. It hit differently when they were kids involved. To all of us now, but I’m guessing Morgan wasn’t ready to be back on the field and dealing with something like that.
We were in the police office, just us, going over some information while the rest of the team gathered a few things. I was going over some info, and Morgan seemed lost, sitting there, his mind and thoughts just weren’t in the room with us.
- “The glue our unsub used is sold practically everywhere, so we can't isolate the point of purchase.”- I pointed out as I read one of the files we had.- “A mineral analysis from the sand, however, indicates that it came from the Seneca River in upstate New York.”
Morgan didn’t reply. I doubt he even heard me. I kept my eyes on him as I straightened up and walked a little closer to him.
- “You ok?”
- “Yeah.”- he replied, but his eyes were so sad and concerned it was clear he was not, in fact, ok.
- “Morgan, we're gonna find the people who tried to kill you.”- I said as I sat on a chair in front of him, trying to reassure him that things were going to be ok. But that was not what clouded his mind, not that minute at least.
- “He was in his pajamas.”- he mumbled, staring at a point on the wall. He must have felt I wasn’t getting where he was going, ‘cos he quickly added. - “Ronnie Brewer. Out there by the side of the road, he was still in his pajamas.”
I looked at my hands and took a deep breath. That was a fact I knew, but I was trying my best not to overanalyze it. Not to imagine my kids in his place either. Not to lose it in the middle of an investigation. It’s hard to keep your head cold. You might think it gets easier with the years, but no. It only gets worse. The more you get involved in the cases, the more parts of you you give.
- “I'm sorry, kid.”- Morgan tried to justify his behavior.- “I, uh, I don't know, man. Six months on the sidelines. I guess I still have a few blisters where I used to have calluses.”
- “I don't think that's what this is.”- I say looking straight at his face with a short smile.
- “Oh, no?”- I shook my head when he stared at me confused - “Then what is it?”
- “You're about to be a dad. You know? You have to expect the world to start to feel different.
- “Did it happen to you?”
- “Of course. And it’s terrifying!”- I confessed and tried to be as honest as possible, ‘cos maybe that would help him relax a little. He sighed and held his head with one head for a minute, trying to focus and rearrange his thoughts.
- “It just feels so hard. Not as in difficult. Literally hard.”- Morgan started explaining how he felt. And it was something that I could definitely understand. - “Like asphalt is hard. Like pavement.”
- “And children are soft.”- I added, and the thought of Raven touching Vincent’s cheek saying how “squishy” he was filled my mind and my heart with love and fear. These two feelings that, apparently by rule, always came together in my life.
- “Yeah. Defenseless.”- Morgan added, mumbling under breath.
- “That's why every day we try to make this world a little safer.”- I said and tried to smile at him, though the frown on his face didn’t move.
- “How do you do it? You have two, you’ve seen the worst people can do.”
- “We are making a change, one day at a time. I will never look at the world the way I did before I was a father. But it helps knowing there are people like us, catching bad guys. I guess focusing on the good instead of the horror is what keeps me going.”
Morgan stared at me in silence, like analyzing everything I had just said. For the first time in my life, I felt like he was the one who needed my help. I was usually the one lost in a world with too many messages I couldn’t understand. And Morgan was the one helping me decoding them and teasing me about it.
But not this time.
- “If there's one thing I'm sure of, is that you and Savannah are going to be great parents.”- I added and smiled at him. Morgan chuckled and realized the position we were at. Me, giving him advice for once.
- “Charge by the hour, Doc?
- “Yeah, but you need to book your appointment at least two days ahead.”- I teased and my friend finally laughed. For the first time in what seemed to be years.
(Y/N)’s point of view
I tried to be rational. I swear. But after baby number two and going back to work, I hated how everything had changed. I could feel it around me, and I know Spencer felt it too, though I’m not sure if he felt it at the same level I did.
It was clear Morgan was leaving. I could feel it in my guts the second he walked back to the bullpen after those six months away, and I tried to prepare my husband for it. Change is part of life, that I can not change (see what I did there?). But that doesn’t mean we are always gonna love each one of the changes of ties that life sends our way. Derek had the right to start a new life, and the time felt right. It made me wonder, yet again, if leaving the BAU was the right path to follow. But at that time, it didn’t make as much sense as it does now. I guess I wasn’t ready to deal with everything that would unravel with time.
One of those things was so embarrassing I kept pushing it aside and failed. But it was so incredibly embarrassing, that I couldn’t tell anyone but Lu.
I was jealous. Seriously jealous. Of JJ.
At that time it was mainly because my stomach kept telling me there was something odd about how sometimes, especially during cases. She acted somehow territorial about Spencer. Like he was hers. That made no sense, obviously. He was my husband and only her friend. I wasn’t proud of how I felt, but a voice deep inside of me kept warning me about her attitude.
But instead of listening to my instinct, I tried to bury it. I excused my own brain, telling myself it was all because I had just had a baby and I was feeling insecure. Which was probably true, in part. But there was something about how JJ always found an excuse to be close to my husband that bothered me the second I came back to work after my maternity leave.
It didn’t really help that we were under similar conditions. Both had two kids and husbands on the field. A very demanding job, eyes for Spencer the entire time he was around. And it felt like she had her shit together, not like me, who struggled every day. Not JJ. She was fucking perfect. From her hair to her attitude and her outfits. There was no way she was a mother of two, her body was, for lack of a better word, perfect. I was filled with stretch marks underneath my clothes, making me feel incredibly self-conscious. I knew it was normal, I had two babies, my body was going to change, and Spencer seemed to be ok with that. But it felt unfair. JJ looked the same. I looked like a mom. I hated it.
- “You do realize you are being incredibly hormonal about this. Right?”- Lu suggested one afternoon when I managed to call her in between kids, cases, and house chores. Spencer had taken Raven to the store to get some things I needed to cook dinner, and Vinny was napping. So I called my friend as I started catching up with laundry.
- “Define being hormonal, please.”
- “You are not being rational, and you always keep your head cold, and this is so not you. Who cares about JJ? Spencer loves you!”
- “I know, but… she is so much better than me in every single fucking way. It’s annoying.”
- “That’s all in your head!”- I could basically hear my friend’s grin through the line. - “All this ‘cos you are no longer a size… what’s your size again?”
- “No! all this ‘cos I feel like a big fucking failure!”
- “How are you even failing? You do more in a day than Frankie does in a year.”- I tried not to chuckle at the comparison because I was trying to show her how upset I was.
- “I mean it, Lu! I know this is not a competition, but what if Spencer realizes I am a shitty wife, a lousy mother, and a sickening sight when naked.”
- “Aren’t you being silly? That man has loved you since before he could even start talking to you or even looking you in the eye. So stop it.”
- “He loved her first”
- “He had a silly crush on her before he met you. That’s it. You’ve always felt threatened by her. It’s not just now. And that’s because you can not believe something this good could happen to you. But it did, so be grateful and enjoy it.”- Lu gave a very compelling speech, I gotta admit. But one thing kept bothering me.
- “What if she is in fact in love with him and tries to do something?”
- “Then she is the most stupid FBI agent I’ve ever met.”
I remember chuckling at her response, thinking if JJ ever tried to make her move on my husband, not only I was going to go absolutely unsub with her, but probably Lu, my mom, and even Frank and Mikey could definitely bring her down.
But, much as I tried, things had changed. I could feel it. It was obvious even when nothing was happening at the bullpen. And it was clear the second Morgan came back to work. He wasn’t the same man that had left six months earlier. None of us were anymore.
The last case we worked with Morgan was the worst we had had since he had been kidnapped.
Savannah got shot. That day we were about to leave the bullpen when Garcia got the call. Spencer was talking with JJ as I grabbed all my things, already late to Raven’s school spring recital. Our daughter was so excited about the recital, her class was going to sing a song and she had practiced for weeks. She was confident she was good at it, and all she could talk about was how much she wanted to show her dad how well she and her friend were going to sing. It broke my heart to miss that show. I know it broke Spencer’s as well.
Pen rushed over, tears already falling down her cheeks, as she explained what had just happened. Morgan was at the hospital with Savannah. They were trying to save her and their baby. Things didn’t look good. In a second we were running to the elevator and Hotch drove us to the crime scene.
You don’t know how hard it is to call it a “crime scene” when it’s the place your friend was hurt. Hotch tried to keep Derek out of the investigation for obvious reasons, Morgan wasn’t in his right mind. None of us were, to be honest. But I knew keeping him out of the investigation was basically impossible. So I entered mode S.A.A Reid, and hid all my fears and worries, even my daughter’s deception (I knew I was going to deal with that later). I needed to help our friends.
I called my mom from the car. I tried to explain what had just happened and why we couldn’t be there with our daughter. We jumped out of the SUV as soon as we got there, Morgan was trying to cross the police line, looking like a madman. I heard him yelling “That’s my team” before JJ walked over and explained to the police he was in fact an FBI agent and not a psycho. I couldn’t blame him, I would look the same if my family had been hurt. I know I did when it happened. You see red when they hurt someone you love.
- “Tell me you got something.”- Morgan demanded, fire in his eyes as he spoke to us.
- “A casing and a rifle up on the roof.”- Rossi explained in a single line everything we knew.
- “This guy isn't sloppy. He's sending us a message.”- JJ added, but really didn’t say anything new. I turned to Morgan and held his hand for a moment, giving it a small squeeze, trying to comfort him. He was hot, and anger was running through his body as adrenaline kept him going.
- “Garcia, we need to access the surveillance footage.”- Hotch said and Pen nodded immediately.
- “Of course. I'm on it.”- and off she went.
- “What else we got?”- Morgan asked, and none of us said a thing. ‘Cause of course, after fifteen minutes, we didn’t have much to add.
- “That's it right now.”- Rossi sighed and shook his head
- “Where were you and Savannah standing?”- Spencer asked, first ‘cause Morgan was the only witness we had, and even under the stressful conditions he was under, he had to tell us what he saw. And second, ‘cos we had to keep him busy or that man was going to go crazy.
- “We were standing right over there on the side of my truck. We were just talking. She was to the back and I was facing her. I was the vulnerable one. I was the easy shot.”- Morgan finished that sentence screaming.
- “How's Savannah?”- I whispered, trying to calm him down.
- “She's in surgery.”- our friend’s voice was cracking, just like his strength. I grabbed his arms and pushed him with me to start walking.
- “Come on, let's check in. Rossi, are you coming?”- David nodded and started walking along with us.
- “You guys got this?”- Morgan asked and looked at the team. Spencer nodded and looked at me for a moment. He confessed sometime later that all he could think of that minute was that if that was me in the hospital, shot, he’d kill whoever was responsible for hurting me. I never forgot it 'cause I kept thinking the same thing.
We checked in at the hospital, where Rossi did most of the talking, and then we sat in a waiting room on the second floor.
- “Metro PD's gonna secure all the windows and have an officer placed in front of Savannah's room 24/7.”- David explained as Morgan walked and nodded, like a zombie.
- “Thanks.”- he mumbled though I know he didn’t process what Rossi had just said.
- “I got us a conference room down the hall to work in, and I'm getting access to the security cams right now.”- Penelope announced as she walked into the room, nearly hyperventilating.
- “Great. You two need coffee?”- Rossi offered
- “I’m good.”- Garcia replied immediately
- “No. Thanks.”- Morgan nearly bit Rossi’s head off as he replied. I couldn’t blame him, though, he was under stress, and he was going to be a nasty asshole until he knew Savannah was safe. Rossi looked at me and asked.
- “No cream, no sugar?”
- “Thank you.”- I whispered and cut him a short smile as he walked out of the waiting room.
- “Tara's donating blood in case Savannah needs more. It turns out they're the same type.”- Pen added as Morgan continued pacing across the room.
- “I’m a universal donor. I’m gonna sign up to donate for her as well.”- I said and turned around to leave. I knew Morgan well enough to leave him be for a moment. Now that he was in the waiting room, pacing and with Garcia, I could be useful somewhere else.
I was still signing papers when I heard Morgan storm out of the waiting room, smashing a pile of paper towels in a cart he found on his way down the hall. The nurses winced and I sighed as I grabbed my phone and read my husband’s text. Hotch had taken Morgan officially off the case.
- “Is he ok?”- Spencer texted me.
- “Nope. Stormed out. I’m donating blood for Savannah.”- I quickly replied. A nurse asked me to follow her to another room and got me ready to
- “Looking at the footage with JJ in the conference room.”- my stomach tightened at the thought of him and JJ being alone. But we were at work, and doing something incredibly important and personal. There was no time for jealousy.
- “I’ll be there in a second.”- I replied and put my phone back into my pocket. The nurse asked me to raise my sleeve, and for a couple of minutes, all I could do was pray for Savannah’s health.
- “So if security footage has no angles of the shooting or the rooftop, where does that leave us?”- Rossi asked as we all stood around the table, trying to find something new to call a clue that might lead us to the shooter.
- “We're running facial recognition on everyone in and around the hospital to see if they match any loose ends from Morgan's abduction.”- JJ announced as I sipped on my coffee. Hotch walked into the room that second. It had taken him an extra fifteen minutes to get there after I was done donating blood, which only meant one thing: whatever Morgan had said to him, got to him.
- “How did he take it?”- Spencer asked what we all knew had happened. Hotch’d face didn’t move when he simply replied
- “As expected.”- and that was all we talked about our friend’s emotional tantrum.
- “Sir, I know that when Morgan was on leave after his abduction, you encouraged him to stay away from the case.”- Garcia started explaining what we had all done behind Hotch and Rossi’s back.
- “And let me guess, he didn't.”- David interrupted her, and we all shook our heads.
- “We all knew in our hearts it wasn't over, and, look, we were right, so in an extra-curricular kind of way we kept sleuthing to see who was working with John Bradley.”- Garcia explained and I looked at Rossi with a shy and almost innocent smile.
- “Everyone needs a hobby, right?”
- “You of all people here have enough going on in her end to add more to her table.”- Rossi argued and Spencer frowned.
- “I helped her.”
- “Getting her pregnant again isn’t helping.”- David joked, and Hotch ignored us as he started talking.
- “Before he came back to work, Morgan said that he'd found a connection between the men who held him at the cabin and the Montolo family.”- Hotch added, looking at Rossi, who seemed lost. Like he never saw coming the fact none of us was going to let Morgan’s kidnap go.
- “Right. So, basically, we're dealing with a big crime family tree, of which Bradley was certainly a branch. And the Montolos had hired him multiple times.”- Garcia added, simply explaining we were obsessed with his case.
- “Did you scan the drawing?”- I asked her and she nodded.
- “Yeah, it's right here.”- at those words, Spencer leaned closer to look at the screen with me.
- “So, has everyone been working on this?”- Rossie asked, surprised.
- “Yeah.”- I said not taking my eyes from the screen.
- “Basically.”- my husband supported me.
- “Kinda.”- Pen added with a shy/busted smile and then she started explaining what we had. - “Ok, with Morgan's research, plus our bad guys/gals tree here, we've cut all the legs off the evil table. So like look… you got assassin mother, father, siblings, all deceased, one aunt in therapy for family trauma, and each line is like that.”
- “Montolo's line's the shortest of them all.”- Spencer pointed out - “The only living child of Chazz and Rosemary Montolo. Rosemary died when Giuseppe was just a boy.”
- “When you thought your family was fucked up…”- I shook my head at my own words, trying to ease the mood ‘cos for the life of me, I can’t deal with so much gravity from time to time.
- “Right. And then Giuseppe went to live with his family in Italy, and Chazz went off to build a criminal empire.”- Pen added. Rossi walked to me and grabbed one of the files.
- “Looks like Chazz Montolo was killed last year.”
- “Yeah, in a bank fire in Germany. Got a positive I.D. On the dental and fingerprints.”- Pen even showed him the newspaper of the fire.
- “One week after his son was murdered. What if that's not a coincidence?”
- “So whoever poisoned the son also killed the father.”- JJ suggested, but I shook my head, reading Hotch’s mind.
- “Or he staged his own death so we wouldn't suspect him of this.”- I said and felt Spencer’s hand resting on my lower back as I spoke, supporting and comforting me.
- “Hey, wait, wait, wait.”- Pen suddenly freaked out and started typing as fast as she could- “I only ran facial recognition on living people for obvious reasons, but this guy right here, walking out of the hospital, this guy, that is… That's Chazz Montolo.”
- “Well done, ma cherie.”- Spencer whispered in my ear and I turned to smile at him for a fraction of a second. We were finally going somewhere.
- “Garcia, play the footage.”- Hotch asked, and a few seconds later, we were all able to watch Montolo senior walking out of the hospital.
- “Mother fucker.”- I whispered thinking that asshole had been there with us in the building.
- “Garcia, contact the city, get access to traffic cameras. Now that we know he's here, we can find out where he went.”- but her phone ringing freaked her out before she could do anything.
- “Oh, wait, Morgan's calling me. I told him I'd keep him in the know before I knew it was an order that he wasn't supposed to know.”
- “All right.”- Hotch sighed and looked at me and my husband. - “Reids, you talk to Morgan. JJ, you and Garcia track Montolo and find out who his accomplices are. He doesn't work alone. Dave, you and I will find potential witnesses who might have seen him on the property.”
And before we could even argue or plan what we were going to tell our friend, we were forced to move and face him.
- “Wait, wait.”- I grab my husband’s sleeve and stop him- “We should get him something.”
- “I don’t think he is hungry.”- Spencer raised an eyebrow as he stared at me.
- “Still. Maybe something to drink to warm him.”
- “You wanna stress him more by adding caffeine to his body?”- he questioned me.
- “Hot chocolate?”
- “He will throw it on our faces.”- Spencer was probably right, but he could read my worry.- “Green tea?”- I nodded and walked to the closest vending machine.
- “Raven must be so angry with us.”- I whispered as I pushed a few buttons on the machine, and a cup with some suspicious-looking tea appeared in front of our eyes.
- “I know.”
- “We are gonna have to deal with her when we get home.”
- “I know…”- Spencer sighed and rubbed his hands against his face, trying to rearrange his thoughts. - "I really can’t deal with that right now.”
- “I know, I’m sorry. I just can’t stop thinking about her and Vinny, and if any of this happened to them, or you.”
- “I understand, ma cherie. So much.”- Spencer moved a step closer and kissed the top of my head.- “But right now we have to focus on helping Morgan. Ok’”- I just nodded and grabbed the cup of tea.
- “Ok.”- I looked at my husband and took a deep breath. I know he was doing his best to keep his head cold and focus on the case- “Alright, let’s do this.”
Morgan was back in the waiting room. He kept pacing, still looking like a madman. But now he was an angry madman. Angry with us ‘cos he knew we were keeping things from him.
- “Were you with Garcia?”- he asked as soon as we walked in.
- “Yeah.”- I replied and tried to smile at him, to maybe calm him down, or make him feel less threatened- “Here, we brought you a green tea.”
- “It won't make you as jittery as coffee.”- Spencer offered the cup to our friend and he grabbed it, but not without reading every single movement the two of us made. It was annoying, Frank was right.
- “You came instead of Garcia because you know I'd be able to read her.”- Morgan didn’t ask, it was a fact.
- “That is correct.”- Spencer nodded and whispered.
- “And Hotch sent you both here to see if I'm stable.”
- “He didn't say that, but…”- my husband made a pause and I just sighed.
- “Let’s say we were the chosen ones ‘cos Hotch trusted we could read you, and if you were too angry at him, we wouldn’t take it personally in case you’d yell.”- I couldn’t lie to Morgan, so I didn’t. He nodded and didn’t even try to say he wouldn’t yell. It felt good to know we were above that bullshit.
- “I don't get jittery.”- of everything we said, that was what Morgan wanted to point out. Why? I don’t know. Maybe that was an insult in his mind. He moved to the other corner of the room and left the tea on a little table Food, he wasn’t going to throw it in our faces.
- “Usually you don't, but your carotid tells a different story.”- Spencer started rambling- “I've counted 10 heartbeats in the last 3 seconds. That's about 20% higher than your usual when you're under stress.”- his voice was soft and almost shaky. My husband was nervous and worried. Scared.
- “I know you're only trying to protect me, I get it, but knock it off.”- Morgan nearly yelled, annoyed with his speech- “I just want to know what you've learned.”
- “Seriously, Derek. You know we can’t tell you.”- I sighed and shook my head.- “So don’t take it with us. We are just trying to help.”
- “If you were trying to help you’d tell me what the hell is going on”
- “We are doing our fucking best. That’s what’s going on.”
I know we didn’t plan it, but Spencer and I were doing the old “good cop, bad cop routine.” And I was the bad cop. Again.
- “When you first told me about Savannah, I'd never seen you like that.”- my husband started talking and his voice was still soft and sweet, trying to keep it together. - “The decreased levels of central serotonin in your brain cause intrusive thinking. When I finally saw you guys together, that's when I knew for sure. Your pupils dilated, your posture changed, and I saw you involuntarily reach for her hand. Science confirmed it. You've found the one.”- Morgan stared at him, speechless. - “Do you believe that?”
- “Yes.”- Derek replied, not an inch of hesitation in his voice.
- “Then believe this. Our team loves you, and we are not going to stop until we find whoever did this. But we can only do that with a completely dispassionate and unprejudiced point of view. Paternal instinct is a deadly bias that we just can't risk. It's for your protection, Morgan, I swear.”
- “Ok.” - Derek answered coldly, though you could almost hear the cogs in his brain going a hundred miles an hour.
- “You would do it for us, wouldn’t you?”- I asked him, and Morgan raised both eyebrows- “If we were you and you were us, you would try to keep us away from the information. Try to keep us calm. We did it with Kate when her niece was taken. Hotch and JJ did it for us when he pretended Em was dead. We did it for Garcia when the Dirty Dozen was trying to kill her. We’ve all done it. ‘Cos that’s what families do, they protect each other.”
- “The unsub is a father, isn't he?”- Morgan ignored my speech and looked right into Spencer’s eyes.
- “Why do you say that?”- my husband lied between his teeth as Morgan analyzed every single one of our movements.
- “A paternal instinct is a deadly bias? Those were your exact words.”
- “I meant… we are both fathers…”- Spencer was nearly sweating and I didn’t know how to help him.
- “I know what you meant. But that's what you said.”- Morgan stared at us, and neither of us said another word. So he simply walked away from us.
- “Shit, shit, shit.”- Spencer whispered and closed his eyes.
- “It’s ok, honey. We both knew it wasn’t going to be easy. And we would be the same under these sick circumstances.”
- “I know, I just…”- Spencer bit his lips as tears filled his eyes.- “I wish there was more we could do. He doesn’t deserve this.”
- “Who does?”- I held his hand and gave it a soft squeeze.- “You did well. It’s just hard keeping things from a profiler.”
- “He is my brother. And someone hurt his unborn child and wife. And all I can do is tell him things will be ok.”
- “We can help him, but he has to trust us.”- my phone ended our conversation. It was my mom, which only meant one thing: Raven’s presentation was over. And she knew we weren’t there.
- “Hello?”- I whispered and closed my eyes.
- “Mama…”- it was worse than my mom. It was Raven.
- “Hey there, birdy. How was the recital? Did you have fun?”- Spencer moved closer and I put our daughter on speaker. - “I’m with your dad at work. We are both so sorry we couldn’t be there today, Raven.”
- “Emma says I don’t have a mom or a dad.”- Raven was crying, and my heart broke as soon as I heard her.
- “What? Why?”- I knew Emma, she was three and a half years old, but that night, I wanted to kill that brat. I’m not proud about it.
- “You are never there.”- Raven wept and all I managed to do was hold Spencer’s hand as I turned to him. His tears ran down his face as he tried to get himself together.
- “I’m so sorry, Birdy. But we have to get the bad guys.”- my voice shook at the end of the sentence.
- “Why is it always you? Why can't Uncle Derek do it?”
- “Oh, Birdy”- Spencer mumbled and took a deep breath, trying to get himself together.- “We are helping Uncle Morgan right now get the bad guys.”
- “I just wanted to sing for you.”- Raven kept sobbing. - “Why don’t you love me?”
- “Raven Marie, we love you so much.”- I managed to say before I broke into tears. I hid my face in Spencer’s chest as he continued talking.
- “Your mom and I are very sorry we couldn’t be there today. We promise we’ll make it up to you.”- Raven didn’t reply, instead we heard my mother’s voice on the other side of the line.
- “I’m sorry kids. She wanted to talk to you.”
- “Thank you for taking care of her, Sofia.”- Spencer managed to say. I know he was trying to be strong, but honestly, both our hearts were broken.
- “Frank and Milkey came along. We are having ice cream and then I’m gonna take her home.”
- “We’ll pick her up as soon as we are done here.”- Spencer added.
- “Take care, kids. I know you are doing the best you can. And she will see that when she is old enough.”
- “Thank you, mom.”- I whispered and tried not to sob too hard.- “We’ll call you later, ok?”
- “Sure, peanut. Love you.”- I couldn’t talk anymore. I just broke into tears one more time as Spencer hung up and placed the phone in my pocket.
- “It’s ok, ma cherié”
- “It’s not ok. This is what I always hated about my dad’s job. This is what I swore to myself at ten years old I was never going to put my babies through!”- I sobbed against his sweater, feeling like the worst mother on earth. The sound of Raven’s cries on the other side of the phone had been way too much for me to deal with, especially considering what was going on.
- “This is wrong.”- I murmured and tried to put myself together. - “We don’t have time for this now. Derek needs us.”
- “It’s gonna be ok.” Spencer whispered as he wrapped his arms around me tightly. - “We are not going to miss any more recitals. And she is going to forgive us. She knows we are doing this to help other people.”
- “Spencer, she is about to be four, she doesn’t have to understand this. She needs her dad and mom.”- my husband kissed the top of my head and sighed.
Spencer’s point of view
The night Morgan became a dad was the night I understood he was going to leave us. My wife had pointed it out a few times before that, trying to prepare me for that moment, but I didn’t want to believe it. I thought we were going to be a team forever. But he had a new team. One that was more important than anything else.
It made me feel I was a lousy father for a moment. He was quitting to make sure his wife and kid were alright. It was something I had thought of many times until that day, but I had never found the guts to do it. I couldn’t blame him, though. He had been through hell and back.
Meanwhile, I kept overanalyzing everything that had happened that day, hell was waiting for us when we picked up our kids from Sofia’s house. Raven had refused to sleep and also refused to talk to us. Vinny was fast asleep when (Y/N) held him in her arms and kissed his forehead. Sofia offered us something to eat, but we just wanted to get home and get some rest. It had been an eternal day, and seeing our daughter’s teary eyes and hardened face made it even worse.
- “I don’t wanna.”- she argued right away as I tried to pick her up. Raven kept fidgeting every time my hands tried to reach her.
- “Come on, baby. We have to go home. Don’t you wanna go to bed? We can have a special breakfast tomorrow.”- I offered her, but she hid behind Sofia and started whimpering.
- “No! I don’t love you!”
- “Birdy, you don’t mean that.”- I whispered as I knelt closer to her. She stayed behind Sofia’s legs and refused to even look at me. Her eyes were filled with tears and I could see her struggling to both stay awake and not to cry. It was heartbreaking.
- “Raven Marie, we talked about this.”- Sofia moved and took my daughter in her arms carefully.- “Your mom and dad had to work tonight and they couldn’t go to your recital, but they still love you very much.”
But our daughter ignored my words, (Y/N)’s words, and her grandma’s words. Instead, she decided to give us the silent treatment and ignore us all the way back home.
(Y/N) made us some tea after she put Vinny in his crib, and I was struggling with Raven’s bedtime. She didn’t speak but refused to brush her teeth and put on her pajamas.
- “Birdy, I know you are upset. And you have all the right to be mad at me and your mom.”- I whispered as I sat on her bed and put my hands on her shoulders, trying to make sure she was paying me attention.- “But you have to know your momma and I were helping Uncle Derek. No one is more important than you, but when someone needs our help, we can’t turn our back on them.”
Raven refused to look at me, but at least she got into bed. I read her a short bedtime story, kissed her cheek, and wished her a good night before I left the room.
- “How is she?”- my wife asked as I walked into our room. She was already in bed, sipping her lavender tea.
- “Still angry.”- I untied my tie, left it on a chair, and unbuttoned my shirt before falling on our bed.- “She didn’t say a word.”
- “And she is just three… I don’t wanna think of our lives when our girl is a teenager.”- (Y/N) cut me a short mile, but it was clear she was trying to make lights off of what was happening.
- “I’m glad we still have a few more years until then, ma cheriè.”
We both stayed quiet for a moment. I grabbed the cup of herbal tea my wife had left on my bedside table and took a long sip.
- “Am I a bad mother?”- her whisper broke the silence and made me whip my head immediately.
- “You are not. Of course, you are not.”- I held her hand and kissed it, as tears fell from her cheeks.
- “We broke her heart, and she is three years old.”
- “She will forgive us.”
- “But how do I forgive myself?”- my wife broke into tears and I wrapped my arms around her, sitting her on my lap. I wanted to be strong for her, I wanted to find the right words to make her feel better. But I had nothing, ‘cos honestly, I was feeling very low.
- “Maybe we should quit.”- it was the first time one of us had said it out loud. I froze at her words. I didn’t see it coming. But my wife had been brave enough to say the words that had haunted my mind so many times.
- “Quit?”- I asked, half shocked, half confused. - “Morgan is gonna leave, what will do the team without us?”
- “What will our kids do without us?”
And I didn’t know what to reply to that.
- “Mommy…”- Raven’s voice ended that conversation, or the start of it. She stood at our door holding the stuffed unicorn Mikey had given her.
- “What is it, birdy?”- (Y/N) asked, sitting on our bed, whipping the tears from her face quickly.- “Did you have a bad dream?”
Raven shook her head as she walked slowly toward the bed. Her big brown eyes were filled with tears, and she kept biting her lower lip, the same way her mother always does when she is nervous.
- “Do you wanna sleep with us tonight, birdy?”- (Y/N) whispered and tapped on the bed. Our daughter nodded but didn’t move from the spot she was standing at. My wife stood up and took a few steps until she stood in front of Raven, kneeled, and opened her arms to our daughter, who nearly ran to her and wrapped her arms around her neck, sobbing.
- “I’m sorry mommy”
- “It’s ok, baby. I’m sorry too.”
It was such a moving scene tears fell from my eyes as I stared at my wife and daughter hugging as they lay on our bed. I scooted closer to them and wrapped an arm around them, kissing Raven’s cheek and (Y/N)’s temple.
- “Your mommy and I love you so much.”- I whispered and watched our daughter sob a few times before she fell asleep on (Y/N)’s warm chest.
Neither of us said another word after that. We just laid with her on our bed, Vinny sleeping peacefully on his crib near us. I wanted to put a bubble around us all and never let anything hurt us.
I didn’t know it back then, but the only way I could do that was by quitting the BAU.
The following week, Morgan came back to the BAU for the last time. We all knew he was leaving, Hotch had told us. But it was still hard for all of us to deal with what it meant losing him in our team. In our daily basics.
When we walked to the bullpen’s door, I saw Morgan hugging JJ and I knew what was happening next. I knew he was there to say goodbye. It was going to be our last time there, and I didn’t feel I was ready to face it. So I left (Y/N) standing there alone and ran away to the meeting room.
Chicken much? Yeah, I know. But everyone knows I am not a fan of changes, and that day was especially hard for me. I was losing my brother. It wasn’t just another profiler leaving. It was my best friend we were talking about. And I was happy for him, of course I was. He got everything he ever wanted. It was just hard dealing with the guilt of not being as brave as him and doing the same for my family.
But of course, I wasn’t ready to deal with that truth just yet.
- “I know you hate goodbyes kid. And change.”- Morgan found me and walked into the room, facing the issue upfront. I wasn’t expecting anything less from him. I turned to face him, my eyes already filling with tears, and he cut me a warm smile, knowing how hard it was for me.
- “Hey. It isn't always a bad thing.”- he added- “And you’ve been getting better at dealing with changes. At least with changing diapers.”- I chuckle at those words. I liked the fact we could keep that conversation closer to the fun side because it was too painful to deal with.
- “You are gonna be better.”- I whispered and he smiled.
- “Only ‘cos I learned from the best.”- Morgan added and we both stayed in silence for a few seconds. Everything about saying goodbye to my best friend hurt. So I sighed loudly and finally accepted the truth.
- “I just can't imagine this room without you.”
- “So don't. Don't think about it.”- Morgan quickly answered, still smiling. - “Just know I'm always gonna be by your side. I'm just a phone call away.”
- “I know. Raven won’t let you go either. She loves Sunday brunch with you and Savannah.”- we both smiled for a moment, but tears quickly threatened to fall again.
- “I'm sorry I can't stay.”- Morgan apologized and I shook my head right away.
- “I don't want you to stay.”- I quickly replied thinking I wasn’t sure I wanted to stay either, but I also wasn’t ready to deal with that just yet.- “Because I know why you're leaving and I couldn't be happier for you.”- I simply looked at him with a smile, because I honestly didn’t want him to feel guilty about leaving. Still, his eyes watered up as he took a step closer and grabbed something from his back pocket
- “Listen, we were gonna mail these, but I wanted you to have a birth announcement first.”- he opened the envelope and handed the announcement. I didn’t know what to say or how to react to it. So I just read it out loud, feeling a knot in my throat.
- “Hank Spencer Morgan.”- my voice broke as I stared at the picture of baby Hank in my hands. I couldn’t stop smiling as I looked at it. It was the sweetest gesture. It was more than I deserved. My best friend had named his baby after me. What had I done in life to deserve that much love from him?
- “Yeah. Hank is for my pops. But Spencer is for the best little brother anybody could ever ask for.”- his words were too much, and before I knew it I was sobbing. Morgan wrapped his arms around me and tapped on my back as he whispered.
- “I love you, kid.”
- “I love you.”- I replied knowing he was doing the right thing. It was just too painful to deal with how it felt at the moment. But it was meant to happen.
- “So, look, my little dude, he's gonna need a favorite uncle. To teach him everything he knows about life. And chess.”- Morgan chuckled at his words and I nodded smiling.
- “I can do that.”
- “I know you can.”
- “Which reminds me, I’m gonna need you to teach me how to play soccer, so I can teach Vinny eventually.”- my answer made him laugh.
It was comforting knowing Morgan was leaving the team, but he wasn’t leaving my life. That was a big change. We weren’t going to stop meeting, he wasn’t walking out of my life. He was just taking a step back from work and focusing on his family. The
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adnauseum11 · 1 year ago
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Short Takeoff, Vertical Landing (John Price x Reader)
John gives you a gift and you explore your understanding of the man.
3.1k words (longer than I normally like, my bad)
CW: swearing, sex (MDNI - 18+ only)
This is shameless slice of life smut - you've been warned!
This work is part of the S.N.A.F.U series, the Masterlist is pinned to my blog.
Feedback welcome!
Ao3
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It takes a moment for you to compute what John’s words really mean, most of your higher brain function temporarily offline. Your body is still humming with the remnants of pleasure, making sitting up a languid affair. John’s pulling something out of his bedside drawer that is very much not shaped like a condom, to your partial dismay.
You crawl across the bed on slightly unsteady limbs and push your hair back, its disheveled state threatening to obscure your view of the handsome man in front of you. He’s holding out a flat, long box to you and you know instantly it’s jewelry. You hesitate, your experience with previous boyfriends and jewelry not typically good ones. The item in question almost inevitably not to your taste and something generic a salesperson has sold them. You quietly dread having another random piece you’ll be obliged to wear. Unfortunately, John reads you like a book.
“This was for Christmas but I fucked that up. If you don’t like it, we can change it.”
His deep voice is calm, but there’s a sudden tension to the set of his shoulders that gives him away as he holds the box out to you. If you didn’t know him so well you likely wouldn’t have noticed the slight shift in his stance but whatever is in the box in his hands means something to him. His willingness to interrupt sex for this should have tipped you off to that, but you freely blame the orgasm you’ve already had for being slow on the uptake.
The slim box is heavier than you expect, and you flick your eyes up to John’s face, the full weight of his attention settling on you again. You subconsciously hold your breath as you open the lid, the light of the room slowly revealing strands of luminous pearls gently forming a wave in the cradle of the box. The two long strands are held together with what’s obviously a vintage rectangle clasp, the aged silver and small diamonds sparkling amongst the gently rolling pearls. The breath you’ve been holding leaves your lungs in a surprised rush.
“Oh my god – John.”
“You like it?”
“I love it, this is exactly my style. Oh, this is gorgeous! It must have cost you a fortune!”
John doesn’t comment on the cost, a slow smile replacing the carefully blank expression he’s been wearing since you took charge of the box.
“Thought of you when I saw them. I’m glad you like them, darling.”
He’s about to say something else but changes his mind, reaching out to cup your jaw for a kiss instead. You clock the shift and run your fingertips over the pearls lightly, enjoying the feel of the cool smooth globes for a moment while you consider the man in front of you. You slowly piece together his request for your dress from earlier with the unspoken words he’s just swallowed and look down at the pearls in the box.
“Should I wear them?”
You know that’s the right question when his pupils dilate, his fingers spasming along your jaw as a full body shiver runs through him. You lift the necklace carefully from the box, handing him the empty container back. Without looking he tosses it, sending his cell phone and spare change flying from the impact. He doesn’t flinch, his eyes locked on you as you settle the pearls around your neck, spinning the clasp so it sits against your nape. The cool spheres brushing against your skin raise goosebumps again, your nipples tightening. You wonder what you must look like, perched nearly naked on the edge of the bed in nothing but a bra and the pearls he’s bought you, your hair a post orgasm mess. You’re about to run your hand over it self-consciously but John steps into your space, tilting your head back as he bends to kiss you again.
“You’re stunning; I love that I get to see you like this.”
You aren’t expecting that kind of tender admission from the aroused man in front of you, and it makes the breath catch in your throat, your hands wrapping around his wrists. John swallows the soft hiccup of breath, kissing you hungrily as he cups the back of your head. The sweep of his tongue over yours with the hint of your taste still discernable unlocks something in you. Suddenly you find yourself rising up on your knees to kiss him back, John’s appreciative groan giving you a jolt of empowerment. Your hands scrabble over his shoulders, sinking your fingertips into the heavy muscle as you press against his solid frame. John’s deft fingers undo your bra, breaking away from your mouth to tug it off your arms. The pearls make a soft sound as they clink together with your movements, sending a shiver down your spine.
The planes of John’s stomach jump as your hands land on his lower abdomen, fingers trailing through the dark hairs there. They work their way under the band of his pants, shoving them down his shifting hips as his mouth drops to seek out the line of your collarbone. He nips the rounded corner of your shoulder before kicking off his pants and boxers, his erection bobbing against your hip. Your fingers find him automatically, wrapping around the hard length of him and stroking, his hiss of pleasure ghosting across your neck. The gentle rattle of the pearls as your arm moves back and forth is seductive, bracing yourself with a palm in the centre of John’s chest, the dark hairs crinkling under your palm. You give him a gentle shove with your fingertips and when that doesn’t register you remove your hand from around his length, placing both palms on his chest to direct him into bed. John allows himself to be moved, landing nearly in the middle of the bed, his eyes locked on you with an intensity that makes your belly quiver.
His gaze follows the sway of the pearls over your breasts as you crawl up his body, sliding your palms up the hair of his thick thighs to cup him, forcing a jagged exhale out of his lungs. The head of his cock is flushed a deep red, a matching colour working its way over his throat and chest. His stomach pulls taut as he watches you bend over him, stroking him firmly, foreskin pulling back as you wrap your lips around the tip. John’s groan of pleasure rumbles through his body, his fingers landing in your hair. You open your jaw take as much of him as you can, making a few enthusiastic passes before pulling back and swirling your tongue around the head, tracing with the flat of your tongue. John flexes his hips, chasing the sensation with a guttural moan that only encourages you to wreck him further, your eyes landing on his blissed-out face.
The pearls trail through his dark body hair, making a mouth-watering contrast between the cool luminous globes and the heated flesh in your grasp. You return your attention to the tip of his cock, lapping your tongue over the underside while you fondle his balls. As his hips arch again you open your jaw and let the rise send his length down your throat, the stretch making your eyes water. His choked gasp and the press of his blunt fingernails into your scalp telegraph his pleasure at your unexpected action.  You hold still for a moment, your body fighting the invasion, your gag reflex fluttering around him before you pull back. The salty taste of his pre-cum coats your tongue and the shuddering deep groan you pull from him as you ease off goes straight to your pussy, a low throb starting to build again between your legs.
“Fuck, that feels so good.”
The low reverberation of his voice rolls down your spine and you flex your fingers against his hip in response, encouraging him to repeat the action. The naked desire in his voice makes you want to rub your thighs together and purr so you do the next best thing and moan around his tip, forcing a sharp gasp out of his lungs. His control is slipping, you can tell by the way his hips buck upwards, not even and measured as before. His length slides down your throat again, the quivering muscles wrenching an unguarded moan from his chest. The pearls draped over your skin start to collect against your throat and you realize he’s gathering them in his fist. You follow the unspoken direction and ease off, long strings of saliva connecting you for a moment after he slips from your mouth.
“Condom, now.”
He releases the necklace to let you lean over and fish a condom out of the drawer and you follow the order without argument, wiping your face in the process. Your willingness to be ordered around ends abruptly with a smack to his hand when he tries to take it away from you and take over. You end up straddling his wide thighs to pin him down with your weight, knowing that John only stays flat on his back because it’s what you want. He lets you roll the condom down his hard length and press him up against his abdomen so you can scoot forward over his hips. His breathing is laboured, your hands on him making his muscles contract as he fights to lay still as you settle over him. His eyes are dark and intense, locked on you as the pearls sway over your body with your movements, the gentle roll of them over your skin like a caress.
“Fuck me, you’re gorgeous.”
John breathes the words as you kneel over him, reaching behind you to wrap your fingers around him again, guiding him to your slick entrance, focused on lining yourself up. You answer him with a heated kiss, your attention on the stretch as you lower yourself, spearing your aching pussy on his tense body. Your palm rests on the steady planes of John’s chest, his head thrown back and the muscles of his neck corded as you slowly start rocking your hips, working him inside until he’s fully seated. He hisses as you rise over him and sink back down, setting a slow and steady pace with a pleased purr. The weight of John’s gaze lands on you again, his hands hovering over your hips as you move, the pearls rocking back and forth over the tight buds of your nipples. The heated drag of his cock through your silken walls has your nails biting into his chest in pleasure. John groans but doesn’t try to shift your hands, his attention fully on you as his hips rock up to meet yours.
“You like seeing me in things you’ve picked out?”
The words fall out of your mouth without any forethought, the part of your brain normally tasked with assimilating information overwhelmed with delicious sensation. The slight rise of John’s hips grinds his public bone against your clit with each downward stroke and your brain goes fuzzy with each lingering contact, shivers running up your spine.
“Yes, yes just like that, bloody hell.”
His hands finally land on your hips, squeezing you as he urges you on, trying to speed you up. You resist, twisting slightly as you rise pulling a low groan out of him, your hands wrapping around his wrists to steady yourself. You slide down his length again, clenching around him as your grind down, biting your bottom lip. There’s a severe look on John’s face as he curses again, your breath coming in shorter pants as you move over him.
“Why that dress?”
John answers that nagging question with the same bald honesty he’s answered everything else you’ve asked of him today, his eyes falling to the spot where your bodies are connected, his fingers dimpling your hips with his grip.
“Don’t think I’ve stopped thinking about you in that dress since you turned up in it.”
You continue your steady pace, John’s flushed face impossible to look away from. There’s devotion etched there, and your heart squeezes painfully in your chest, feeling too large for your ribcage.
“When you were away? Did you ever think of me in that dress?”
“Every night. Love, please.”
This is as close as you’ve ever heard John beg for anything, an echo of his words from this morning. His desperation sends a thrill through your belly, speeding you up, the pearls clacking together against your heated flesh. You can feel John’s cock jerking deeply inside you, bumping against the sensitive patch of flesh that resides there and it weakens your thighs, your body wanting to go pliant against him.     
“John- “
“I’ve got you.”
He understands immediately and grips the globes of your ass as you drape over his heaving chest, your breathy panting muffled against the base of his neck. He braces his feet against the bed and fucks up into you, his grip spreading your cheeks as you moan into his ear. You can barely hear his muttered curse over the rush of blood in your ears and your own wanton noises, unable to stop yourself as John chases his pleasure now, his grip bruising. You nip at his thick shoulder, your teeth razing over his skin, his low rumbling moan vibrating through you as his blunt cock relentlessly buries itself in your slick pussy. The tightening coil of pleasure builds at the base of your spine, your muscles clenching around him as he buries himself and holds still, his hands shifting back to your hips.
“Sit up, love, I want to see you.”
You follow John’s order mindlessly, dragging your palms over his chest to press yourself back up, biting your lip when John twitches deep inside you, meeting his heated gaze. To your surprise he sits up too, the thick muscles of his abdomen flexing and pressing against you as he settles inches from your face, his legs going akimbo behind you. His big palms land on the tops of your thighs, squeezing your flesh in encouragement.
“Bounce, love.”
Again, you follow his direction without any compunction, and immediately your nails dig into the tops of his shoulders as this position offers more friction against your clit. A gasp is torn from your throat after the first experimental rise of your hips, and soon you land on a rhythm that has the frame of the bed groaning. The pearls are trapped between your bodies, the soft clinking nearly inaudible as the tension in you builds quickly, the angle making your toes curl and your moans climb in volume. John’s strong hands steady your sides, his body jerking up into you with each bounce, the walls of your soaked pussy bearing down on him tightly. His eyes are inches from yours, and you’re transfixed and unable to look away, his pupils blown.
All it takes is a firm smack on your ass to tip you over the edge, the jolt enough to make you clench around him, your nails raking over his back as you try desperately to ground yourself against the sudden cresting wave of your orgasm. A keening cry escapes you, your inner thighs trembling with strain as you try to clamp around his hips, the rhythmic pull of your slickened walls dragging a primal sound of out John’s chest before he tips you onto your back. His demanding thrusts send sparks shooting up your spine, catching the back end of your orgasm and drawing it out. You can feel the thundering of your heart in each extremity, your hands wrapped around John’s biceps as his hips jerk into the soft flesh of your body, the wet slap replacing the groaning of the bedframe. John’s thrusts quickly lose their rhythm, your leaking pussy pulsing around him tightly, drawing a broken sound out of him. He jerks into you deeply, making tiny little thrusts as he cums hard, his forehead landing on your shoulder as he groans loudly.
You stay locked like that, desperately trying to catch your breath for a few long minutes, John recovering quicker than you. You wordlessly protest when he tries to disentangle himself, tightening your limbs around him with a groan.
“I love you but I’ve got to get rid of this condom, darling.”
The low rumble of his voice in your ear convinces you to relax your hold on him and he extricates himself gingerly, leaving you sprawled the wrong way on the bed, too relaxed to bother moving the right way round. Finally, your heart rate slows and you marshal yourself to sit up, propping yourself on an arm. The pearls drape gracefully over your body as you move, swaying with you. John is at the sink when you meet his warm gaze across the room.
“You alright, love?”
“mhm, just needed a minute.”
John watches, half amused as you wriggle out of bed, making your way on wobbly legs to join him in the bathroom to pee. He leaves and returns with the case for the pearls, placing it on the counter by your elbow as you wash and dry your hands.
“John?”
You ask as he turns back to the bed, tugging the duvet cover with the wet spot off the duvet and tossing it towards the laundry hamper. The case for the pearls closes with a click as you return them to their place and you nudge the box into it's new spot beside your perfumes lined up on the counter.
“Hm?”
John’s proclivity for order and neatness distracts him from answering you and you smile affectionately as he wrestles the duvet back into a fresh cover. Once he’s satisfied you climb into bed, watching the curve of his spine as he bends to collect his cell and change from where they have scattered.
“What should I know about Kate before our dinner?”
He straightens and replaces the objects in his hands on his bedside table, crawling into bed and spooning you, pressing a kiss to your shoulder as he rolls you on to your side. You offer no resistance, sighing softly, feeling deeply content and drowsy, your fingers tracing over his forearm.
“Well, to start she’s American, and a very good poker player. Impressive poker face.”
From your position you can’t tell if he’s joking or not but you let his words roll over you nonetheless, the rise and fall of his voice soothing. Exhaustion from the highs and lows of the day are pulling you under before you can learn what part of America she hails from, or ask any more questions about the mysterious figure in John’s life.
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princesskenny1998 · 8 months ago
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One Piece | Shanks LeRoux x platonic!f!Marine!LeRoux!reader (x Monkey D. Luffy) ~ Deserteur, PT.2
The Sabaody Archipelago bustled with activity, a vibrant blend of laughter, shouts, and the unmistakable energy of pirates and adventurers preparing to set sail for their dreams. The sun hung high in the sky, casting a warm glow over the numerous ships lining the harbor. But amidst the laughter and chaos, you felt a heaviness in your chest, a mixture of anxiety and excitement.
Your name—Shanks’ daughter and a deserteur—had become known throughout the seas, and the bounty on your head had made headlines across the Grand Line. After the chaos of Marineford, where you fought alongside Luffy and witnessed the tragic loss of your brother Ace, you had made a decision to stand by your loved ones, to carve out your own path away from the Marines.
Now, standing on the docks of Sabaody, you could feel the weight of the world on your shoulders. You had heard Luffy’s call to adventure since childhood, a promise he made you do long ago, to follow under him when the time was right. And now, as you stood at the edge of this new life, you had to know if he still wanted you to join him on his journey.
Taking a deep breath, you moved through the crowd, determination guiding you despite the uncertainty swirling in your mind. You remembered the last time you had seen Luffy; two years ago, the memories of that day at Marineford played vividly in your head—the pain, the loss, the fire in Luffy’s eyes as he fought for Ace. You had been lost in the chaos of grief and violence, but now you were ready to step forward, ready to embrace whatever came next.
As you reached the docks, your heart raced at the sight of the Thousand Sunny. The ship was beautiful, alive with colors and energy, reflecting the spirit of its crew. You spotted Luffy standing on the deck, laughter spilling from his lips as he interacted with his crewmates. They were preparing for their next adventure, but when he turned, his laughter faded, replaced by a look of pure astonishment.
“[Y/N]?” Luffy exclaimed, his eyes widening as he jumped down from the ship to meet you. You could see the surprise and joy flooding his face, and suddenly, all your fears melted away.
“Luffy,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. You felt the years of separation and longing rush back in a wave, filling the space between you. “Do you still want me to join your crew?”
His grin returned in an instant, infectious and full of warmth. “Of course! I’ve always wanted you to come with me!” He stepped closer, an energy radiating from him that made your heart flutter. The world around you seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you.
The crew, however, stood a bit back, exchanging confused glances. They didn’t know who you were, this woman who had just appeared before them. Nami raised an eyebrow, her expression skeptical, while Sanji’s eyes widened in admiration, but there was also a hint of confusion as he tried to gauge your significance to the captain.
“Wait, who is she?” Zoro asked, his arms crossed, leaning against the railing with a casual air that belied his intense curiosity. “And why does she look so familiar?”
You felt a rush of laughter bubbling up at the questions flying your way, but before you could respond, Luffy took a step forward, the joyful energy around him palpable. “This is [Y/N]! She’s Shanks’ daughter! And she’s my childhood friend! She’s gonna join our crew!”
A ripple of shock and surprise ran through the crew. Usopp’s jaw dropped, and Robin raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Shanks’ daughter?” she echoed, a glimmer of interest sparking in her gaze. “The one who deserted the Marines?”
“Exactly!” Luffy said, practically bouncing on his feet. “She’s been with me since we were kids!”
“Wow, that’s pretty crazy,” Franky said, nodding appreciatively, clearly impressed by your lineage. “But that means you’ve got a big bounty on your head now, right?”
The realization seemed to settle over them, the crew’s surprise shifting to a mix of admiration and respect. But it was Luffy’s gaze that held you captive, and in that moment, the noise around you faded away again. There was something electric in the air, a connection that had always existed between the two of you, a love shared between you since you were teens.
Luffy stepped closer, his eyes locked onto yours. “I missed you so much,” he said, his voice sincere, a tone that made your heart race. “You’ve been gone for too long. I’ve thought about you every day.”
A warm blush crept onto your cheeks, and the laughter of the crew faded into the background as you took a deep breath, steeling your nerves. You had wanted to tell him for years—wanted to say again what you had last said the night before Garp had took you away, what had been left unsaid for far too long.
“I love you,” you confessed, your heart racing. “You were always my adventure, Luffy. I wanted to be by your side. And now it's finally my time.”
And in a moment that felt both surreal and beautifully ordinary, he closed the distance between you, capturing your face in his hands. His thumb brushed against your cheek, and you could feel the warmth radiating from him. Then, without hesitation, Luffy leaned in and kissed you, a sweet, earnest kiss that sent the butterflies racing in your stomach again.
It felt like coming home, making your mind switch back to stolen kisses in the tree house or in your bedroom above Makinos bar.
As he pulled away, a beaming smile spread across his face, the joy and mischief dancing in his eyes that you had so drastically missed the past few years. “Now you’re really part of my crew!” he declared, his enthusiasm infectious. Laughter bubbled up from the crew, a mix of cheers and playful teasing. It was a strange but comforting realization that you had finally taken the step you had longed for.
You looked around at the crew, the warmth of their acceptance washing over you. There was a sense of belonging that you had craved for so long, and it felt exhilarating to know that you were finally here, with Luffy and the Straw Hat Pirates.
As you boarded the Thousand Sunny, you felt a renewed sense of purpose and adventure fill your spirit. This was your life now, and together, you would face whatever the Grand Line had in store for you.
Standing beside Luffy, watching as the crew prepared to set sail, you felt a thrill of excitement course through you. The horizon stretched out ahead, a canvas of endless possibilities waiting to be explored. With your heart pounding in your chest, you took a deep breath, ready to embrace this new chapter of your life.
“Let’s go!” Luffy shouted, his voice ringing with uncontainable excitement. “To the New World!”
And as the ship began to sail away from Sabaody Archipelago, you knew that your adventure was just beginning. Together with Luffy and his crew, you were ready to make new memories, face new challenges, and carve your own path in a world filled with dreams and danger.
You were no longer just Shanks’ daughter or a deserter; you were [Y/N], a Straw Hat pirate.
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fakeuwus · 2 years ago
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GUILTY CONSCIENCE | sim jaeyun
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now playing ☾⋆⁺₊🎧✩°。 guilty conscience by 070 shake
⁺ ⋆˚ genre: idol!jake x nonidol/femreader, just angst man am i sorry, established relationship
⁺ ⋆˚ warnings: lowercase intended, cursing, being drunk, infidelity, gaslighting(?), baby is used as a nickname, one suggestive text, jay is mentioned BRIEFLY
⁺ ⋆˚ word count: ~1.2k
⁺ ⋆˚ message from nic: i know i already did a piece ab cheating but all of my works are inspired by songs or i try to connect them to a song,,, i just feel it sets the tone of the story and its fun to connect a story to a song!! and since this song is one of my favs atm i HAD to write ab it. i definitely recommend u guys listen to the song while reading or even listen to it after. kinda ironic how cheating is one of my pet peeves (i fr despise it sm dont get me started) yet here i am writing ab it lmao. i promise i'll write something more lighthearted and/or anything that isn't angst soon LOL. but hope y'all enjoy and feedback is always appreciated!
"5 AM when i walked in, could not believe what i saw"
yn: JAKEY JAKE JAKEY pleaseee come tk the club rn i habent seen u since u got nack :(
jake chuckles at the message as he reads it. he glances over at the clock that reads 4:38 AM. he knows that clubs in korea don’t close until 8 but god damn how are you still partying with your friends this late? he figures that you must’ve had a little too much to drink and your party animals for friends don’t help at all.
jake: ik baby but we had schedules right when we landed and im so tired… how are u even still there rn???
yn: TOO MICJ FUN :D
yn: COME HAVE FUN WITH ME BABY ;)
jake: u make it rlly hard to say no to u
jake: ill be there soon<3
jake sighs as he rises from his bed, making sure not to wake jay who’s fast asleep. he envies how jay can be sleeping so peacefully when jake is experiencing the worst jet lag of his life. you being out at 4 in the morning and his racing mind doesn't help him try to get some shut eye either.
he dresses quickly, making sure it's quiet when he exits the dorms. it’s not his finest fashion moment but he could care less about what he looks like. he’s only going out to see you and to possibly save you from whatever crazy antics you and the girls are up to.
jake isn’t going to lie when he says he hasn’t made the best effort to see you after getting back from tour. but he also didn’t lie when he said his schedule was super jam packed these days. he should’ve immediately ran to you as soon as he landed but he just didn’t have it in him. guilt gnawed away at his heart as he hailed a cab to lead him to the club you were having the time of your life at.
jake enters the back of the club smoothly without drawing any attention. thankfully your friends secured a vip table upstairs in a secluded area, making it easy for clubgoers to not notice that an idol was going to a club at godforsaken hours.
approaching the table he sees you right away. it’s not hard to spot your beautiful red dress, hugging every curve on your body. your long hair flows as you sway your hips back and forth. jake smiles to himself. how did he manage to bag the most gorgeous girl in all of seoul, korea? it was clear you were having way too much fun, giggling and dancing with your friends and-
he quietly gasps. the scene before him makes him halt in his tracks. it was like time stopped and the flashing lights began to blind his vision. his heart rate slowed and his palms were becoming clammy.
maybe he was mistaken. there was no way you would do this to him, he thinks. but there you were cuddled up next to a man, drunk out of your mind. jake can't stand another minute watching you and the mysterious person grind up against one another.
in a blinded rage he rushes towards the guy and pushes him away from you with all of his power. “GET THE FUCK OFF MY GIRL!” you shriek and the guy stumbles backwards sending a few drinks flying off of a nearby table. “YOU MIND TO TELL ME WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON HERE YN?!”
your mouth is agape and your mind is scrambling to figure out what to say. you know you can’t explain how you were practically dry humping a stranger, too shocked and the alcohol still strong in your system. you're struggling to say something, anything to try to make things right.
“and you,” jake turns and gets too close to the man’s face. “she’s clearly too inebriated to make the right decisions. how DARE you take advantage of her like that?!” you’re confused as to why he’s flipping the script and blaming the stranger but jake rips you away from everyone too fast for you to think another second. you stumble as you’re dragged away to a dark corner.
the two of you are standing in awkward silence, no one daring to say a word. your eyes are looking everywhere but jake. you’re too afraid to see what kind of expression his face has. “jake i-” “no. you don’t get to speak right now. there’s nothing you could say to justify what i just saw.”
ragged breaths begin to come out of your mouth and your chest is tightening. “jake please baby i just- i was so drunk and these guys came up to us and…” your sentence trails off, every word you’re saying just sounds so ridiculous at the moment. he’s right. you couldn’t say anything to excuse your wrongful actions.
“and to think i came here at fuck ass o’ clock just to come and see you. i’ve barely gotten an ounce of sleep these days but i gave that up to come because you were BEGGING for me to be here.” his voice is angry and you know he has every right to be screaming at you. at this point tears are threatening to spill from both of your guys’ eyes. “jake… i know i know and i’m so sorry i swear nothing like that-”
“NO. no just no,” he pauses carefully choosing the words he’s about to say next. “you’re right. there won’t be a next time… we’re done.” the tears that brimmed your lashes are now falling. the alcohol that once ran through you is now gone. you move to grab his hand but he takes a step back. the distance between you two grows larger and he seems out of reach.
“jake please we can work this out! please don’t leave me because of this.” your pleas are ringing in his ears but he ignores them. “we can’t come back from this yn. how could you think i’d ever trust you from now on?! don’t contact me ever. have a nice life.” the loud music pounds on the walls just like your heart is in your chest. you’re left alone sobbing, wondering how you managed to fuck up the best relationship you’ve ever had.
jake stumbles out of the club, trying to clutch onto anything to help him out. the fresh breeze of the night blows onto his face and helps him regain his breath. he struggles to get his thoughts together as he walks down the sidewalk back to the dorms.
maybe he was too harsh with the way he spoke to you but he knew it had to be done. seeing you cling onto someone that wasn't him was his ticket out. he knows that you're absolutely going to be broken for awhile but you'll be okay, right? he knows that you're going to blame yourself for this for who knows how long but you're going to be fine in the end, right?
he convinces himself that it's better you than him because now,
he'll never have to admit what he was doing while he was away from you on tour.
"i caught you but you never caught me, i was sitting here waiting on karma, there goes my guilty conscience."
© fakeuwus 2023 do not repost, translate, or plagiarize
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sweet-self-indulgence · 6 months ago
Note
Crack/smutty ask
In an AU where Mika lets the boys stay but does not have any sexual relationship with them, how would they each react to her either a. Randomly asking "wanna have sex? Or b. Randomly kissing them.
This was a fun idea to do as little ficlets! They’re kind of a mix between silly, smutty, and angsty.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Wanna have sex?”
The question catches James completely off guard. His mouth gapes open as the alluring scent of Mika’s arousal wars with his conviction that she cannot want him. His control must have slipped, he’s unconsciously influencing her desires.
“Please… I’m ready now”
It’s correct etiquette to look at someone’s face while they’re talking to you, but James can’t seem to rip his eyes away from where Mika fiddles with the button on her blouse. It’s opened far more than usual, allowing for an intoxicating view of her cleavage.
James shakes his head to try to clear his traitorous thoughts. As the incubus struggles to piece together a polite way to express his disbelief in her sudden change in demeanor towards him, Mika marches over to where he sits.
She may have intended to say something else, but the second her hand touches his own the force of her sexual energy rushing into him makes James groan.
“It sounds like you are too” the girl’s thumb brushes over the back of his hand. Nervousness flickers across her face as she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth. Her expression settles on determination as she leans down to capture James’ mouth in a kiss.
All at once Mika breaks down the walls that James has spent years carefully building. His enthrallment activates with a force that leaves them both dizzy.
Mika straddles James’ lap without breaking the kiss and the incubus sends the rest of the buttons flying off of Mika’s top as he rips is open.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
To Erik, life is a stage. We all have our little characters to play: the dutiful son, incorrigible incubus and the modest schoolgirl.
Enter Mika, looking distracted. She almost bumps into him before she notices him.
Erik recites his  line, complete with a wink, “Are you going to kiss me or do I have to lie to my diary?”
The next stage direction calls for a cheesy grin from Erik as Mika rolls her eyes and blushes before going about her business. However, his scene partner is improvising, pressing her lips to his.
Erik is nothing if not a composed professional. He reciprocates the perfect chaste kiss and pulls back to fire off another quip.
He never gets to say his next line, as Mika pulls him back in. She takes advantage of his partially opened mouth and kisses him deeply.
For the first time in forever Erik is alone in his own mind. With no audience to perform for, he turns his attention to enjoying being so thoroughly kissed. Each time they break apart Erik is prepared for the moment to end, steeling himself to go back to the behavior dictated by their roles.
But they can’t seem to separate. Instead they are pulled closer and closer together. The demon savors small groans, and the feeling of her fingers messing his normally perfect hair.
Finally, Erik is able to break free of Mika’s gravity and asks, “Why?”
The girl simply winks, “I know how you hate to lie.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“How many times do I have to tell you to watch where you’re goin’, doofus?!”  Sam’s outburst has no venom in it as he steadies Mika on her feet.
Mika grins her usual grin in response, and Sam’s stomach does its usual little flip flop at her smile.
The girl is so clumsy they have this interaction several times a day. Sure, Sam could potentially not drop whatever he’s doing to speed to her side whenever she trips. But he is simply not strong enough to ignore the opportunity to hold her close, if even for a second.
Sam is pulled from his thoughts by an unexpected pressure on his lips. The kiss sparks a fleeting moment of joy before anger stampedes in.
“What the hell is that about?!” This time his words are sharp, almost threatening.
Mika presses into him again in response. Sam is completely incapable of not kissing her back.
A short moment later, the anger flares again and he pushes her away, “This isn’t a fucking joke!”
“Who said it was?!”
Sam rolls his eyes, “Oh please—”
“Not everything is about you!” Mika interrupts. Sam’s utter confusion at her statement allows her to continue somewhat more calmly, “God, I know you’ve been through some shit. But this is about kissing a cute boy, not trying to piss you off or whatever.”
Mika sighs and turns to leave, “Thans for catching me and sorry for making you do something you didn’t want to do.”
Sam’s lips are suddenly on hers again, “I didn’t say that…”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Wanna have sex?”
Matthew looks for all the world like a deer in the headlights. He’s completely frozen in place. After a solid three seconds of complete silence, batter slides off his spatula and drops into the bowl with a plop.
The sudden movement startles him into action. He fumbles as he puts the dishes down on the counter, “Uh, O-okay, yeah. I mean, i-if you want to or something…”
“Yup!” Mika confirms. She watches serenely as Matthew valiantly fights through the awkwardness. His face is bright red as he walks stiffly towards her.
Matthew grabs Mika’s hand when he gets close enough to her.
“Hi!” his voice is a little too high and a little too loud. The demon cringles and clears his throat, “Hi!” His second attempt almost succeeds in sounding casual.   
He hesitates as he starts to take another half-step forward, toeing the line of Mika’s personal space.
A sudden high-pitched cackle portends meddling from Matthew’s least favorite furball.
In the blink of an eye Mika finds herself laying on top of the incubus.
“OhMyGodAreYouOkay?!” Matthew looks up at her with worried eyes as he grasps her upper arms.
“I’m exactly where I want to be.” Mika answers lowly, accentuating her meaning by pushing her breasts into Matthew’s chest.
Matthew’s laugh dissolves the rest of the tension in the room, “You know what? Me too!”
Mika captures his smile into a kiss as Matthew’s hands use her ass to press her more firmly into him.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Wanna have sex?
The thought catches Damien off-guard and his mouth stops moving-mid kiss. The kiss itself had been an unexpected, but pleasant, interruption that he was loath to question after so long spent pining after Mika.
This was no passing notion; Mika was directing her thoughts towards him. That idea alone stirs something within the incubus. Okay, Mika’s imagination may have caused some stirrings as well.
Damien struggles to regain his breath as he pulls away from Mika, “Follow me.”
Mika takes his outstretched hand and lets him pull her through the mansion. She gasps as they abruptly enter the secret hot spring.
 “I’m sorry. Your Grandfather’s spirit told me about this place. I’ve been meaning to tell you for a while…” Damien trails off, embarrassed for having hoarded this paradise as his personal refuge.
“So this is where you are when no one can find you!” Mika’s teasing smile falls when she sees Damien’s face twisted with emotion.
She’s… worried about me? About intruding on my safe space…That doesn’t make any sense she the one who…
Damien physically startles at his own realization. She is my safe place. She has been for a while.
Before Mika can voice the concerns growing in her mind Damien interjects, “Yes!”
Mika just stares at him in confusion.
“You asked me a question… earlier.” Damien pitches his voice low and looks pointedly at her lips to jog the memory, her slight blush indicates his success. “The answer to that question is yes.”
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fluentmoviequoter · 19 days ago
Text
Knock Knock
Dalton Lambert x fem!reader
✰ You and Dalton get into an argument when you accidentally spill your drink on his new drawing. He kicks you out, but after a gift is left at his door and he finds a reminder of what he feels toward you, he knocks on your door with more than an apology.
✰ angst to fluff, argument, takes place after The Red Door, 1.9k+ words, requested
Dalton Lambert Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List
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You shift your knees up, tucking your socked feet beneath the comforter on Dalton’s bed as you remain focused on your tablet. Since you last spoke to Dalton, you’ve read a bit, colored with your stylus, and downloaded a new game. Although you’ve been in Dalton’s dorm since you got out of class nearly four hours ago, you haven’t paid much attention to him in the last hour. However, this works for you. It’s become a bit of a routine to spend time together after class while doing your own things. Parallel play, Chris had called it; it's when you do different things of your own interests while being close. Whatever it’s called, you love it.
Perched on Dalton’s bed, mere inches from him where he’s leaned over his drawing table, you’re comfortable. Dalton has become more than a friend, and the more time you spend together, the easier it is for both of you to open up, be yourselves, and show that you feel something toward the person sitting beside you.
Dalton tugs a piece of hair behind his ear in your peripheral, and you shake your head. You’ve been telling him that he either needs to cut his hair or actually use the stash of ponytail holders in his dresser, but when he gets in the zone like this – lost in himself and his memories as his drawing utensils move across the page – that’s the last thing on his mind. You tap an app to open it, shifting closer to the end of Dalton’s bed as your attention shifts away from him again.
Dalton’s hand works faster than his mind as he sketches. He’d had a plan when he sat down: to draw a landscape for Professor Armagan’s class. The second he’d lifted his pencil, however, an image flashed into his mind, along with the soundtrack of a slamming door cutting off screams and the memory of a soft, caring hand against his face. You’d been there after he’d closed the Red Door, though you never pushed him to tell you exactly what happened. Each moment he spends with you, he feels more inclined to tell you everything, to pour his heart out to you, and let you decide if you’d like to fit in his life with everything else. Coming back to the present, Dalton is surprised to see how much progress he’s made. Your face is taking shape on the open sketchpad, exactly as he remembers you looking when you cupped his face for the first time and invited him to let go.
As Dalton focuses on touching up the details of his sketch, you reach toward the table beside his bed. Your eyes don’t leave the tablet screen as you attempt to get your drink, and you don’t realize that your hand is too close to it until it’s too late.
You gasp when the glass tips over, scrambling up as apologies rush from your lips.
“Dalton, I’m so sorry,” you say. “I- I can go get paper towels, and I’ll replace the sketchpad. I should have been more careful, looked at where my hand was.”
Dalton’s chest rises and falls quickly, staring at the soaked paper as you continue speaking. After what feels like an eternity, he pushes his chair back, causing you to flinch, and snatches the paper off his desk as he stands.
“It’s ruined!” he fumes. “Replacing the paper won’t bring back the art!”
“I’m sorry,” you repeat, softer as you step back from him.
“I was working on something new, that’s fresh in my mind, but the other drawing- the one that took me three weeks? That’s gone!” he exclaims loudly. “A dry sketchpad can’t replicate it; don’t you get it?!”
You nod, opening your mouth to apologize again. Dalton cuts you off by slamming his hand down on the wet desk, sending drops flying through the air as you tug your hands behind your back, attempting to stay calm and not cry because of his outburst.
“Typical,” Dalton scoffs under his breath. “Why would you care about the art? You just want to feel like someone wants you close.”
He’s not even speaking to you, but his words cut like a knife through you. You swallow, blinking rapidly to stay as composed as possible. Maybe he’ll think you didn’t hear him, see that it was an accident, and apologize.
“Just go,” he says, turning to face you. “Get out.”
“Dalton,” you whisper. "I didn't mean-"
“Save it!” he yells. “I don’t want you here!”
So, you do exactly as he asks. With your chin dropped you rush out of his dorm, leaving your things behind and not noticing that the door doesn’t close behind you. You do want to feel like someone is close, and you thought that was Dalton. Tears begin clouding your vision as you make your way back to your own place. Avoiding any routes Chris may take, you take twice as long to get home, and when you reach your bed, you collapse into it and let your tears fall, sobbing over the end of something that hadn’t even started.
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The night after kicking you out, Dalton is sitting slumped at his desk, drawing on a new sketchpad. He’d gone out and bought one before class this morning and was surprised to see a bag with five leaning against his door when he returned for dinner. They’re from you, of course, but he was too angry to consider thanking you, so he tossed the bag in a corner and got to work on recreating his assignment from memory. Squeezing his pencil too tightly, Dalton remembers what happened last night. You’d been apologetic, looked ashamed and close to tears, and he’d kicked you out. His anger was justified, he tells himself, because you know how much this means to him, and you weren’t more careful.
Looking around his desk, Dalton doesn’t locate the pencil he wants. Sighing, he opens a drawer beside him and freezes. There are a few pages inside with various sketches: a few pictures of his family or the house he saw in his nightmares, a quick drawing of you… and the assignment he thought had been in the sketchpad you ruined.
“What did I do?” Dalton asks himself.
Regardless of whether his assignment was intact or not, Dalton shouldn’t have reacted like he did. He had no reason to yell or kick you out, and as he relives it now, he sees the fear and heartbreak in your eyes. You’d tried talking, but he’d cut you off, upset and angry. You’ve never asked him to listen, only invited him to share his burdens with you, but he refused to listen the one time you tried to speak.
Dalton drops the papers back into the drawer and stands. He has to make this up to you somehow, at least apologize. If you don’t want to let him close again, he’ll understand. As he turns to put his pencils away, he notices that your stuff is still in his room. The tablet you’d had yesterday is sitting atop his dresser, your water bottle and backpack are in the corner where he’d tossed the sketchpads, and a hair tie that he hadn’t noticed yesterday appears to have been slid toward him when he’d been lost in his work.
Dalton rakes his fingers through his hair, tugging at his roots. You were trying to take care of him, and he didn’t even notice. With another sigh, Dalton gathers your things, packing your tablet carefully into your bag. He pulls it over his shoulder then and leaves his dorm with two destinations in mind. The first is a nearby mall. And then to you. He can only hope that you’ll listen to him one last time, long enough to hear his apology, even if you want to walk away after that.
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Chris hasn’t responded to your text yet, so you use your remote to navigate to your favorite show without moving out of your bed. You haven’t eaten today, didn’t go to class, and if Chris doesn’t help you, you have no way of getting your stuff back from Dalton’s dorm. It doesn’t matter, you lie to yourself. As another episode of mindless television begins, someone knocks on your door. You ignore it, assuming they’ll go away when no one answers.
Less than a minute later, a louder knock. You stand with a groan, not bothering to look through the peephole before you pull the door open.
Dalton softens when he sees you. He’s not smiling, but his shoulders drop and his eyes seem to grow larger at the sight of your puffy eyes and how your hair has been messily pulled back out of your face. Your backpack is over his shoulder, and a few paper shopping bags are hanging from his wrist. Neither of you speak, taking the other in.
“Can I come in?” he murmurs after a moment.
You don’t reply, but step back and gesture in a silent invitation.
“I’m sorry,” Dalton begins as you close the door. You keep your back to him as he continues speaking, saying, “I’m so sorry. There is no excuse for how I treated you. I should have listened, and I know it was an accident. I’m sorry.”
Slowly, you turn to face him, and he sets your bag and the other things he’s brought on your table. When he steps back to wait, you move closer to the table separating you. Dalton nods, pointing at the bags to give you permission to open them. You don’t care about whatever apology gift he may have brought, though, so you round the table and hug him.
Tightening his arms around your waist, Dalton sighs against you and whispers another apology.
“I forgive you, Dalton,” you murmur. “I get it. I should have been more careful. But we both need to do better next time.”
“Right,” he agrees, nodding as he straightens. “I will. I won’t take you for granted again.”
“Thanks for bringing my stuff back,” you add. “I asked Chris to go get it and she left me on read.”
“That sounds about right. The rest of it is just to say I’m sorry, and I want you close, no matter what we’re doing.”
You smile and peek inside the largest bag. Inside, a book you’ve been wanting to read and two face masks, just like the one you convinced him to do that last time he hung out at your dorm.
“There’s also some snacks and drinks in the smaller one; I just got what you usually bring with you. And flowers in the white bag,” Dalton says. “It’s not much-“
“It’s more than enough,” you interrupt. “You don’t have to buy my forgiveness, but thank you for thinking about me.”
“You didn’t have to buy mine either,” he points out. “But thanks for the sketchpads.”
Your brows furrow as you argue, “I didn’t get you sketchpads. I wouldn’t know where to start with something that personal.”
Dalton sighs. His dad has been trying to make up with him for nearly as long as he’s been trying to find the courage to tell you how he feels. He should have remembered that you have a key to his dorm, anyway.
“Dalton,” you call, carrying the bouquet to your small kitchenette. “Could we… could we maybe go to dinner? Actually spend a few minutes talking to each other.”
Dalton smiles so wide it begins to hurt his cheeks. “Only if we make it a regular occurrence,” he counters.
You return to his side and loop your arms over his shoulders, leaning forward before you murmur, “We can arrange that.”
There’s a better angle to draw, Dalton thinks as he meets you halfway, kissing you with a passion that does more than reinforce his apology.
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roseamongroses · 2 months ago
Text
eggheads | de
Shuri/Riri Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Summer Camp Teacher!Riri, Auntie! Riri, Auntie! Shuri, Plot Device Rainstorm, Sexual Content, Missed Connections, Riri Williams is a Hot Mess, Shuri's into it
Summary: Sometimes smart people can be a little dumb when it comes to matters of love.
-
Shuri picks up her nephew from summer camp and meets his rather interesting teacher. Sparks fly--or at least they could, but it'll take a little more effort for them to get to the first date.
ao3
MADI -
Riri Williams was a hater.
It was a carefully curated trait that only blossomed as she grew older.
One of the many—and she does mean many—things she held in such low regard were wealthy transplants. Right below them on the list was a confused—ass bitch. And lucky, lucky her-- these potential parents happened to be both.
The couple strode into the building, the door slamming hard, the bell clanging obnoxiously. They both wore matching sunglasses that were uncomfortably square and had slick-back, dyed black hair tied up into frustratingly tiny buns at the top of their pointy heads.
They had ignored her initial greeting. Instead they were talking to each other without a care in the world, leaning on the counter, and getting uncomfortably close. Close enough that she could see the spittle fly when they spoke, smell the weed on their breath, and see the coffee stains on their teeth.
Then—as if remembering her presence--the shorter one pushed up his sunglasses, revealing red—rimmed eyes without even an inkling of a thought behind them, “So we finna went and asked Chet-PTG where a bussin' program was for our little beaker baby. Chet blessed us up with a list, so we’re poppin' by to check y'all out for ourselves—type shit," his drawl had an annoying, nasal tinge to it. As if his vocal chords were dropped in a blender, but not quite pureed. The chunks of oddly phrased words sticking out as if he had picked up bits and pieces of his vernacular from tech-bro podcasts and rap-beef video essays.
Their partner had the same inflection, picking up from where he left off, “And like we gyat," she giggled, twirling the stray pieces of her hair as she smacked her gum, "-- to get like a tour, type-shit ” she said, nodding her head sagely.
“Right…” Riri sucked in her top lip, biting down hard to keep her expression neutral, “Our program offers a variety of camps and tutoring for student’s K-12 as well adult programs for--”
“Mhm, Chet-PTG told us--”
“Yeah, yeah we know but you can go ahead sis--””
Riri’s nostrils flared. A flickering, barely constrained rage skimmed the surface as she forced a bright smile. She nodded along with them, wishing to have whatever they were on.
Right on time, Xavier-- her co-worker, partner in crime, and long-time neighbor-- ducked behind the desk, setting his walkie-talkie on the charging station.
“Actually,” Riri grabbed Xavier’s elbow without looking and tugged him in front of the parents, “My co-worker here can help answer your questions,” she shamelessly said, rushing away before the man could protest. He was much better with people then she was anyways.
Right as her back turned, the front doors opened--the jingling of the bell faint in her ear.
Closely cropped curls poked through the doors.
Shuri looked around the lobby, disappointed. The woman on her mind was nowhere to be found.
-
MÈKREDI -
“Are you sure?” Nakia asked through the phone’s speakers, “I can ask someone else if you’re busy—”
“He’s my nephew,” Shuri retorted with a laugh as she swiped through her playlists, “I’m never busy enough to pick him up--”
An alert went off in her ear-piece.
Once, twice, thrice more.
Shuri inhaled, jaw clenched as she changed lanes, pulling off a particularly illegal U-Turn, “...Apologies, something just came up so I can’t,” she admitted, a bitter taste in her mouth. She quickly said goodbye before bracing herself for the day ahead.
- JEDI -
Riri turned around in her rolling chair, freezing briefly--surprised. She looked off with a small smile, “Hey,” she managed to spit out, heart fluttering, “It’s been awhile, how’s the city treating you—?” She picked up her walkie-talkie, notifying the other teachers to send up Toussaint, glancing back up to the other woman every-so-often.
Shuri smiled back leaning against the counter, “It’s been the longest week of my life,” she shares, sighing wistfully.
“Rough time at work?”
Shuri’s head slumped back, big, brown eyes meeting hers with a soft, helpless look, “Like you wouldn’t believe. I’ve never encountered such impressive displays of incompetence.”
Riri hummed, fingers tracing circles into the counter, “It can’t be that bad,” she teased.
“Oh it was bad--”
“How bad--?”
At that, Shuri paused. She slowly straightened, turning around to meet her gaze head on, before her eyes deliberately dropped, taking care to size her up. Cheesing like a motherfucker with something to say.
Riri choked on a quiet realization, blinking hard--appalled, “Don’t you dare say some corny-ass shit--” she said through gritted teeth.
Shuri struggled to stifle her little snickers, holding up her hands defensively, “I didn’t say anything, but if you want to know it wasn’t as bad as y--”
Against her better judgement, Riri’s smile broke through, “Don’t--” she groaned, but it came out as a laugh. She stood abruptly to batt them away from the counter, her face burning, “Don’t you --don’t you dare--”
It was odd how her head was always a little lighter speaking with the woman, even if her nerves made her feel like a crumbling mess.
Maybe it was Shuri rubbing off on her a little. The woman moved and spoke as if she had nothing weighing her down. An easy-going, if not subdued energy that you couldn’t help but lean into.
Riri didn’t know much about them, but she never felt…judged in their brief interactions. She's done customer-service for awhile now and had to get used to that constant, aggravating feeling of having someone's boot dig into your spine and only having the ability to smile in response. Shuri never looked down on her, she just looked. Her eyes filled with a shameless curiosity that was… refreshing. A vibrant spark in her otherwise mundane life.
Shuri resisted her attempts to banish her from the counter, planting her hands down and leaning in instead, towering over the woman. That playful expression tinted with an unexpected intensity.
Riri stopped in her tracks, her complaints falling silent as she looked up at them expectedly, “...What?”
Shuri pursed her lips, then asked, “I’ve been thinking of taking some time off so I can see the city and I was wondering--”
CRASH.
They both flinched at the noise.
Riri bit down on her bottom lip--hard. It was always some-fucking-shit going on around here--
Another crash interrupted her train of thoughts and she sent them an apologetic look, “Sorry, I gotta--” Another crash and Riri’s hands flew to pick up her walkie-talkie. She circled the desk in a rush, thoughts storming as frustration crawled up the back of her throat.
Watching her go, Shuri let out one, drawn out sigh. She looked up at the fluorescent lights, muttering to herself as her fingers drummed against the counter.
She wasn’t sure how long it would take for the incident to be resolved, but regardless she did have to take Toussaint to an appointment right after this. She’d most likely miss her chance again. Thinking for a moment, she glanced around. She reached behind the counter to snag a sticky-note and a pen. She scribbled her number down, sticking the note where she’d hope the other woman would see it.
A simple, but effective work around.
And yet it wouldn’t work.
By the time Riri came back, the note was long gone.
The sticky note had been moved. From here--to there, everywhere. Moving about the front desk as the other employees completed their different tasks. Filing papers, checking-in students, and so on. Getting lost in the never-ending stacks of junk.
Eventually it got absentmindedly swept up by the custodian after it fell onto the ground.
Shuri tried not to be too disappointed when she never got that call.
-
VANDREDI -
It was a cold, dark day. Several hooded figures approached. Their looming shadows stretched across the cracked pavement, sneakers squishing dandelions and kicking trash out of their path. The silence was deafening for all who watched. The observers scattered upon meeting their gaze. Those eyes were cruel with their absolute judgement towards the worms before them.
“You got the--” Gregory A. Peters Jr. voice cracked mid-sentence and he cleared his throat, neck flushing with embarrassment, “You got the goods?”
He was as skinny as the flagpole with string-bean looking straight-backs and a face crowded with freckles and acne scars. The young boy was drowning in his off-brand, Spider-man sweats and beat-up Jordans. He was a middle-man between the fifth-graders and the younger students, often serving as a mediator during disputes and facilitating the more high-value trades.
Demetrius turned to his ally, wiping his hand clean on his shorts.
Toussaint returned his solemn look.
The pair nodded, resolute in their decision.
Toussaint reached into his plaid book-bag, pulling out his bright, fuchsia, cat themed pencil case. He unzipped it slowly, holding it out to let the older boy take a peek inside.
Gregory A. Peters Jr. squinted as he looked in the pencil case before breaking out into a toothy-grin, braces glinting, “Holy shit, they really found a Cyber Dragon—“ he said, turning towards his friends excitedly, the other boys clamoring to get a better look.
Before the boys could get a look at the card, Toussaint hastily re-zipped the pencil-case, snatching it away with pursed lips. Gregory A. Peters Jr. looked annoyed, but Demetrius stepped in front of his ally, puffing his chest, only his scowl visible from underneath his afro.
A beat passed before Gregory A. Peters Jr. sighed, waving them off, “Right, right, a deal’s a deal,” he agreed, dropping his book-bag to the ground and rifling through the mess of loose papers.
He eventually found what he was looking for, “This--!” he declared, pulling out what appeared to be a video-game controller rather dramatically, “This is the test Bruce Banner uses to rank geniuses! My brother…borrowed it while he was on the road for work.”
Demetrius perked up, leaning closer to the device, “Who’s Bruce Banther?”
Toussaint’s eyes only narrowed, grabbing his ally’s shoulder and pulling him back to his side, “How does it work?” he asked instead, looking skeptical at the device.
“I’dunno,” Gregory A. Peters Jr. shrugged, “Do you want it or not--?”
Toussaint and Demetrius exchanged a prolonged look. Then, Toussaint unzipped the pencil case again, plucking up the card and extending it towards him.
Gregory A. Peters Jr. eagerly snatched up the offered card, tossing the device towards them in exchange which Demitrius easily caught. Not long after, he scrambled away waving the card around proudly as the rest of the boys chased after him.
Demitrius fiddled with the device, somehow finding a way to switch it on-and off.
Toussaint watched over his shoulder, “How are we going to get them to both take the test?” he asked, brows furrowed, “My Tati leaves this week.”
“Oh that’s easy--” Demitrius flippantly said, a toothy grin spreading on his face seeing the hologram flicker from the device, “C’mon--” he said, eyes fixed on the device as he led the way towards the jungle-gym, his ally following close behind.
Across the playground, Riri watched the boys duck into the jungle-gym.
Across town Shuri finally finished signing all of her paperwork and reached for her phone to order lunch.
And in that brief moment they both respectively shivered.
-
“Ugh-fuckin’ hell,” Riri hissed sharply, stubbing her toe on a doll with the consistency of a fucking cinderblock. Seconds later, the lights cut off for the third time that evening, leaving her clutching her foot in the dark--just her luck.
It was her late day. Friday’s were always her late day. She had been grading papers and prepping her lessons for the next week. Since she taught the summer camp kids during the day and tutored the SAT/ACT students most evenings, this was one of the few times she had to get this shit done.
Even then, she had planned to leave thirty minutes ago. Yet, she was still here. She could not for the life of her find her fucking keys or her phone and naturally she came to this realization after everybody had left for the day.
All the office phones were down, service down, the encroaching storm only getting worse by the second. That alone made the idea of trying to use public transport a no-go. The buses in this area were already unreliable and shoddy and walking wasn’t feasible unless she wanted to get doused in the entire Atlantic Ocean.
Riri hobbled to the floor, easing against the reception desk as she steadied her breaths, trying to ride out the pain. The lobby lights were off, only street lights and the occasional flash of lightning illuminating the room. Outside, the rain fell in sheets, the torrential pour leaving the outside world a smear of nonsense. Even if she could call someone, it’d take them forever to get through that mess.
She does not get paid enough for this shit.
Riri dragged a hand down her face, listening to the rhythmic fall of the rain. Think--think--thinking, eyebrows furrowed deeper with each passing second.
The only conclusion she could arrive at was that she was not sleeping here. Despite her instincts telling her the best choice was to hunker down, she had that undeniable, festering itch to leave. The idea of being in this building for a second longer made her sick to her stomach and--
Thoughts coming to a halt, she looked up.
She thought she was hearing things, but there it was again--that sound. A light tapping against the door, a figure she could just barely make out through the glass.
Riri slowly rose to her feet, hobbling over, hesitating as she stopped in front of the door. Squinting through the glass, her eyes widened in recognition and she quickly unlocked the door.
Shuri was thoroughly drenched, a massive splash of water entering with her as she crouched through the doorway. Face slick, scattered raindrops slipped down the planes of her face and curls. Shuri stepped inside, her eyes darting about wild, “Am I too late? ” she asked, with a pensive frown, thunder rolling soon after her words, the building shuddering from its touch, “Did I miss it?”
“Huh? What are you--” Riri shut the door behind them with great effort, the hinges creaking as it slammed. She pressed her back against it, biting her lip and trying to process their appearance, “Why are you here so late?”
At her question, Shuri’s frown only deepened, “Isn’t there an event to…” she trailed off, realization flitting through her eyes. They sucked in a bitter breath, casting her a weary glance, “There’s no event today…is there?” she asked, although it seemed as if she had deduced the answer already. She tugged off her soaked sweatshirt and hung it around her neck. Now she was left in a clinging tank-top with an off-colored, turtle graphic slapped on the front.
Riri squinted at her, looking her over, taking her in--casually of course, “Nah, the only event is that fuck-ass-storm,” she said, folding her arms, head cocking, “What’chu think was happening today?”
“The… camp graduation ceremony,” Shuri answered, biting her thumb as she looked around--as if trying to catch sight of those non-existent decorations, “I knew I couldn’t make the ceremony, but I promised I’d be there for the reception and cleanup--”
“It's not until a few-weeks from now," Riri notes, catching how their jaw ticked, a slight tenseness that you wouldn’t catch if you weren’t paying close attention--and she was paying attention.
“I see that now,” Shuri said, muttering to herself in a language she couldn’t pinpoint. She pinched her nose, eyes closing as she thought, “My nephew must’ve misremembered the dates --”
Riri slowly approached, stride only broken by the occasional limping, “The graduation isn’t for a few weeks from now….All the kids know this, ” she said, tone edging with doubt.
Normally she wouldn’t have second-thoughts about kids misremembering. Shit happens, but Toussaint’s memory was scarily good.
He clung to dates, to numbers, to hard facts like it was second nature. Sure, he got stuck in his head sometimes and that made lessons more difficult, but once he knew something--he knew it. He hardly made the same mistake twice and he certainly wouldn’t have forgotten the date of something he was reminded about at the end of every session.
Shuri must’ve realized this as well, because she quickly pivoted, “...I must have misremembered then,” she suggested instead.
It was rather admirable how she refused to assume the worst. It was almost cute, if not a little infuriating seeing as the truth had been sitting on their noses the whole time.
“You didn’t.” Riri said pointedly.
The pieces fell into place all at once as she considered her very bad-awful day and all the events that it comprised. Individually, it was nothing to bat an eye at. She’d be rich if she had a penny for every time she lost her keys and phone, but she tore up the whole damn building and still couldn’t find them. Combine that with the suspiciously good behavior from the playground and Shuri’s curious appearence and...
“That… scheming…little brat--” Riri hissed under her breath, nostrils sharply flaring.
Shuri shot her an incredulous look, but Riri paid them no mind. She walked to the other side of the receptionist desk. She eased down to the ground, crawling underneath the desk and grumbling to herself as she fumbled in the dark, searching.
“Care to fill me in—?” Shuri called out, head tilting as she watched the other woman fuss.
Riri staggered to her feet, hefting a large tool-box up with her and dropping it on the counter with a thump, “Demetrius.“ she offered, shortly. As if that explained it all. She fiddled with the lock, occasionally stopping to tug up her cargo pants every time it sagged too low on her hips.
Shuri politely, pointedly averted her eyes, “Demetrius?” she echoed, not quite understanding.
“He’s my nephew. Got a lil-body, big ‘ol afro, even bigger head--” Riri raised her arms, spreading them wide for emphasis, “He gets it from his daddy. The head, not the hair--” she explained, with a serious expression before her attention returned to the lock. It popped open soon after and she hooked it around her finger, spinning it around as she spoke, “Sometimes he gets to thinkin’ and then shit like this happens.” She tossed the lock aside and pushed open the box, peering inside. She squinted into the dark before cursing under her breath.
“...And what exactly is happening?” Shuri asked, leaning over to look inside too.
Shuri frowned immediately.
“You read comics?” Riri asked instead, picking up the note inside the tool-box with a faint scowl.
“Occasionally.”
“Demetrius reads them. A lot,” Riri murmured, scanning the crayon before rolling her eyes and shaking her head. She passed the note to Shuri, “He thinks he’s the damn riddler.”
Other than the note, the tool-box was completely empty of any particularly useful tools. While she hadn’t gotten around to teaching her nephew how to hot-wire a car--thank the fuckin’ big man for that-- he had guessed correctly that would’ve been her next move if she couldn’t find her keys in a timely fashion. He was even luckier in a sense that she wouldn’t try some stupid-shit like that during a storm anyways.
Despite her less than stellar explanation, Shuri seemed to be following, “So this is a…game he plays?” she flipped over the note, eyebrow lifting, “How often does he do this?”
“It used to be every-other week, but he talks to a real nice child-specialist nowadays so it only happens every-other month now,” Riri said. She scanned the desk and caught sight of the infernal device in question--a sticky-note and that all familiar handwriting cheekily saying, ‘Play Me’
He even had the audacity to sign it with a smile.
Riri ignored that odd wave of deja-vu falling over her, turning towards her fellow captive, “You got a car?” she asked, but she was already heading towards the door.
“Yes, but aren’t we going to--” Shuri followed behind her without thinking, vaguely gesturing in the direction of the device. Although she wasn’t fond of being…played with, she was intrigued to find out if it did what the child claimed it did.
Riri barked out a laugh.
She’s done this song-and-dance before with men far more influential then her nephew, she wasn’t about to entertain any of that nonsense.
There was a rather simple solution to their little issue.
The boys clearly wanted to get them in the same spot to settle their argument. Kids were capable of a lot if you gave them a chance, but at the end of the day, they were still kids. Their little plan had holes all over. Riri could’ve ignored the note and waited until morning. She could’ve left early and not even seen the damn thing. But the most glaring flaw was tjat they thought of a way to keep her trapped here and a way to get Shuri here, but forgot to find a way to stop her from leaving with Shuri.
Riri stopped abruptly, the other woman almost running into them. She looked back, sending Shuri a wiry smile as she tucked her braid behind her ear, “You gon’ give me a ride or nah?”
Shuri blinked, mouth twitching a little, “...Yeah,” she cleared her throat, hand rubbing the back of her burning neck, "Of course."
It was rather embarrassing. Shuri hadn’t even had a chance to ask the woman if she’d seen her own note or had intentionally ignored it, but all Riri had to do was bat their little eyes and….Shuri found that she didn’t much care what had happened.
Riri was in front of her and that’s all that mattered.
And right now, Riri’s smile only spread, tongue peeking out from in-between her tooth-gap, “Thanks--”
Both women stiffened at the sound of thunder, a flash of lightning illuminating the space all at once. It was stark, bright, frightening--then gone all at once. That comforting blanket of darkness returned, but now there was indisputable tension in the air. They knew that this peace was short lived at best if they truly wanted out.
Shuri grimaced, unwinding her sweatshirt from around her neck and ringing it dry one last time for good measure, “Don’t thank me yet,” she murmured, eyes straying to the storm raging on outside, “Any chance you have an umbrella in here?”
Riri matched her expression, shaking her head.
Shuri kissed her teeth, squinting out the window, “C’mere,” she said, gesturing. Riri hesitated for a moment, before doing as she was told. Her breath hitched as Shuri raised her jacket above them both.
They both leaned in close--to the door, to each other. The darkness hiding their nervous glances as their hips bumped and breaths stuttered. Another crack of lightning came--then went. The women braced themselves for what came next.
Then Shuri--or maybe it Riri-- finally pushed open the doors, the pair sprinting into the storm.
14 notes · View notes
beanswithbuttons · 25 days ago
Text
It's Different When It's You
Spike Spiegel x gn!reader
hurt/comfort
wc: 2199, not proofread
cw: injury, cough, pining, idiots in love who don't know how to communicate
A/N: It's been ages since I've posted my writing on the internet, so I am incredibly rusty! Sorry if this is a bit poorly written, I'm trying to break out of a big writers' block. Requests are always welcome, and if you're a writer too, I'd love to brainstorm with you! <3
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It was supposed to be a simple bounty. A quick rookie grab before departing the planet. Only being on the ship for a few months, you usually stayed behind handling mechanical issues. This seemed like a great excuse to get out there and stretch your legs, help out a bit with the bounty hunting.
Spike never would have let you tag along if he knew it would end up like this.
The mission seemed easy enough- a teenager who had been consistently robbing local convenience stores for booze. An annoyance more than a public concern. A couple million Woolongs was no bounty to lose sleep over.
The poor kid was practically stuttering over his words when he realized actual bounty hunters had shown up, immediately bolting into a back alleyway towards the local street market. It was an easy enough chase. You even split up to cover more ground.
Unfortunately, the kid had a trigger finger. One of his stray bullets just happened to pierce the XL propane tank of a salesman's cart and before anyone knew it, the market was a flurry of explosions and yelling.
Smoke fills the air. The whole marketplace was practically destroyed by the time Spike managed to lay a foot on the kid. One swift kick to the knee and the teen was on the ground, rusty pistol skittering across the concrete.
Spike lets out an annoyed huff, rolling his shoulders. Scanning the rubble of the market, he finally spots you. He refuses to acknowledge the relief that floods into him.
One of your arms is cradling your ribs and you have a few scratches littering your skin. Other than that, you seem equally relieved to see him, already rushing forward with an exclamation of celebration.
You cough as you approach, and although it could be from the smoke, Spike can't help but feel a tinge of worry over it.
As you reach him, Spike places a firm hand on your shoulder, stopping you in place. His eyes linger on your face, not liking the way your lips are paler than usual.
Before he can say anything, you beat him to it. "Look, whatever you're going to say- don't. Just got the wind knocked out of me. I'll be fine."
His gaze only firms with doubt. He nods to where you hold your ribcage. "Get that looked at on the ship."
You scoff and gesture to his cheekbone, where a piece of flying debris had left a slice in his skin. It's not said aloud, but you both know he will more than likely ignore it instead of getting it patched.
"As long as you don't be a hypocrite." You tease, and he's about to argue, but your voice cracks into another rough cough.
"I'm serious." He grunts, voice low with a rare hint of concern. You wave a hand as if to dismiss him, but he's far from convinced.
He's grown quite fond of you in the last few months you've been onboard, learning your mannerisms well enough to know that you'll only ask for help when you feel you really need it. Even if he won't admit it to himself, he sees a reflection of himself in that part of you. "Winded or not."
"Aw..." You grin at his comment through coughs. "You really do care."
Your banter always seemed to match his, which he appreciated on gloomier days. Your smile was always brightening, even when you didn't feel like smiling.
He'd enjoy this moment a lot more if there wasn't that hint of blood in your teeth.
Trying not to pay too much mind to it, he scoffs, rolling his neck side to side. "Of course. You maintain the Swordfish better than Jet."
You chuckle at his quip, but that only stirs up a new round of coughs. This time, you double over a bit, the sound becoming more wheezy.
The bounty hunter frowns.
"Ok, hey. Easy, easy." He murmurs, his tone uncharacteristically gentle. He pats your back as you cough and sputter, taking full notice of how your limbs now have a slight shake to them.
You don't seem to recover very well from this fit of coughs, groaning as your body sways slightly. The adrenaline is clearly fading and the pain is starting to etch itself onto your face. He knew he shouldn't have let you come.
He's quick to tighten his grip on your arm, letting you lean more of your weight on him. He curses under his breath. Shit, this is taking a toll on you.
"Alright, come on." He huffs, hoisting your arm up around his neck and looping his arm around your ribs, careful not to irritate your wounds. "Work with me here. We're going back to the ship."
All you do in reply is nod.
..............................................................................................
By the time you reach the Bebop, Spike is practically carrying you. Another fit of coughs leaves you wheezing and he increases his pace.
The ship seems mostly vacant when you enter, the rest of the crew either on errands or resting.
As you cross the threshold of the main bay, he leads you down the metal stairs and to the stained yellow couch of the common area. You lay down without protest, still coughing up a lung. You sound miserable.
Spike takes a moment to lean back on the table, arms crossing and taking in your condition. They didn't exactly have the money at the moment to find you a proper doctor if this were to worsen, but what other choice did they have?
If this were him, he'd be forcing himself to walk it off- ignoring the ache in his lungs until it either subsided or took him down for good. To him, it wouldn't be more than an annoyance.
But this is you.
"I know what you're thinking."
Spike is brought out of his thoughts by your roughened voice.
Of course you know. You know him better than he'd ever be comfortable admitting. You'd probably know what he's thinking before he's even thought it. You've always been too good at that.
You're blinking up at him from your spot on the couch, looking a little less pale than you were before, your grasp on your ribs weakening a little. Still, you are smiling that sweet little reassuring smile and he hates that it's almost working on him.
"I'm getting you something for that cough." He mutters, rising with a slight pop to his joints.
With long strides, he makes his way to the small med bay onboard. He roots through what little medication they have until he finds something that will at least knock out some of the pain. He hurriedly grabs some water and makes his way back to you.
When he returns, he finds you rolled over on the couch, facing the back of it. You're curled in a little on yourself and he curses himself for taking so long, even if he was gone for only a few minutes. He refuses to think about how small you look. Why is this so hard to watch when it's you who is injured? It's not like crew injuries are something new to him.
Spike approaches quietly, slowly kneeling down next to the couch. He hesitates for a moment before his hand lifts. His fingers gently graze your shoulder. "Hey."
A few seconds pass, but you roll your head back slowly to look at him. Your eyes are half-lidded. You look past the point of being tired, like your coughs had aged you.
"Hi." You rasp, and your voice has gotten quieter. His frown deepens.
"You look rough." He observes bluntly. His fingers are itching to go for the crumpled cigarette box in his pocket, but he would much rather feel this anxious ache than risk adding another irritation to your lungs.
Your smile is faint. He doesn't miss the way your eyes take their time drifting from his eyes to his chin, as if memorizing his face. Your eyes land on his lips, and there's something achingly soft in your eyes.
Something wanting. Something familiar.
Something Spike refuses to acknowledge.
He is struggling to maintain his composure, and he hates it-hates this effect you're having on him. It's an emotion he hasn't felt in years.
Before he realizes he's doing it, his hand drifts from your shoulder up to your neck, thumb gently sweeping along the side. He feels your pulse, a little weak but not too worrisome. Your body seems to relax just a bit more. Your eyes fall back to his lips.
No. He can't do this.
He huffs a sigh.
There's a long beat of silence. For a moment, your eyes drift to his eyes. He feels his throat dry, his heart racing in a way he only used to know possible. He feels like he can't breathe, the tension thick.
He looks away, his hand falling away from your warm skin and back to his side. He focuses his attention on handing you the pain meds and water, which you graciously accept.
You cough a bit more when drinking the water, but the meds seem to stay down. Good. That's good.
The two of you fall back into silence.
Spike finally allows himself to breathe. He sits back on the floor, letting out a hoarse sigh and dragging a hand across his face.
"Next time, you stay on the ship." He quips after a few minutes, a last-ditch effort to keep things light.
You don't quip back as he had hoped. Instead, he's met with a small, sorrowful murmur. "Yeah... probably. Sorry."
That does it.
The small timid tone of your voice, the glances to his lips like you're pleading for something, anything, to comfort the ache. He can't ignore the way you look at him any longer. It aggravates him, but there's a part of him as well that yearns for that kind of connection again.
This isn't who he was. His heart had been closed for so long, he doesn't think he'd know how to try again. Even if he really wanted to.
The tension is maddening. He shuts his eyes, unable to look into yours as he speaks next. "Don't look at me like that."
Spike isn't looking at you, but he can picture it clearly in his mind the way your eyebrows must furrow. The way your head tilts. The subtle pout to your lips.
Oh, he's done for.
Your voice is hesitant. "I'm not-"
"You are." His voice is set, gruff and pointed.
Silence, again. Painfully aching silence. It's agonizing to him.
He swallows.
Finally, he opens his eyes.
He's met with the most apologetic look from you he's ever seen. His heart twists in his chest. God, you make this difficult.
"I never mean to make you uncomfortable," You confess in a murmur and the warmth blooming in his chest is becoming next to impossible to ignore. "I just... I needed you to know."
And he does. He realizes it now.
You've been asking for him for a while now, even if it wasn't with words. The way you leaned on his shoulder on late nights. The way you always made sure to greet him in the mornings. The way you agreed to this bounty hunt this morning was because you knew it'd be just you and him.
For the first time, Spike's eyes purposefully drift to your lips.
He's leaning in before he can register it, achingly slow as his hand drifts back up to its spot on your neck. His lips are moving, asking for permission, but words fall deaf to his own ears.
You nod faintly, and all it takes is a quick glance up to your eyes to tell him that you want this too.
All at once, he's on you.
He cups your face tenderly, as if too much pressure would make you crack. His lips are clumsy, but so are yours. It's sweet how you melt into him, the way your fingers curl into his collar as if pleading for him not to pull away. He doesn't think he could if he tried.
Your position shifts, propping yourself up a bit on the couch to cradle his jaw. He stays on his knees, moving with you. Worshipping you.
He helps guide you into a more comfortable position, leaning back against the couch. His hands find their way to your hips, fingers digging in greedily once they find a hint of skin. Your hands go to his hair. He doesn't miss the way you shudder.
It feels like ages and yet like no time has passed at all by the time the kiss breaks. Spike presses his forehead to yours, breathing heavily with you in sync. You cough a little, and his concern floods back in. His thumbs gently sweep the skin of your waist from where his hands rest on your hips, trying to offer some comfort until it passes.
Then, you smile.
And everything is okay again.
He may not understand what he's feeling or where this will go, but in this moment, he can't bring himself to care.
After all, it's different when it's you.
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heyitsspiders · 1 year ago
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Lucifer x Transmasc! Reader - Falling for the Fallen Angel - Chapter 6
Bow Chicka Bow Bow
Lucifer teases you throughout the day before giving you what you asked for.
Smut
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Your eyes lit up as you rushed forward, your arms wrapping around his form and nestling your head against his chest, “That’s amazing!” 
He chuckled as he rested his hands on your back, “I know! I’ve been dying to tell you but I wanted to keep it a surprise until my room was done.” You could hear the smile in his voice.
You peered up at him, “ That’s what you and Charlie have been talking about? And to think, Alastor tried to get me to make a deal with him for that!” You laughed.
Lucifer stiffened and pulled you away from him, his hands gripping your shoulders as his yellow eyes bore into you, “he tried to do what.”
“He tried to get me to make a deal with him in exchange for what you had been talking about. When I declined he warned me about the friendships I was making,” you explained. You hadn’t told anyone else this as you were a little embarrassed at how badly you wanted to know their secret. As you spoke Lucifer’s eyes sharpened. You gulped. Were you not supposed to say that?
“Oh that piece of shit,” He growled and started off to the door, practically flying off the bed. “I’ll show that radio creep who he’s fucking with.” 
You jolted after him, grabbing his hand, “Woah, Dear, it’s okay!” Look, you and Alastor didn’t get along that well but you didn’t want him dead!
He tried to yank his hand away but you held firm. He was clearly holding back as he could have easily thrown you to the other side of Hell, “No it isn’t! He tried to steal my lover’s soul! That isn’t something he gets to do and get away with!” 
Your mind pushed away what he was saying. You had more important things to deal with right now, like stopping this father from destroying one of his daughter’s friends. You were tempted to let go of his hand and let him go forward with his plan but the image of Charlie’s distraught face flashed in your mind and your grip tightened.
You looked at him sternly, “how are you going to explain killing him to Charlie?”
He paused, whatever he was going to say dying in his throat. You continued, “yeah sure, he tried to take my soul but Charlie believes in redemption. Do you really think killing him would do any good?”
Lucifer was quiet for a while before he sighed, his muscles relaxing as he no longer fought your grip. You tugged him towards you, dragging him into a hug. He returned the hug, grumbling something about “that stupid fucking deer” .  You softly chuckled as you gently kissed his cheek. As the two of you stood, rocking slightly in each other's embrace, it finally clicked what he had said. 
Lover. 
He called you his lover .
Your cheeks heated as you thought about it more. Yeah, the two of you made out and were lovey dovey with each other but he considered the two of you as lovers. You had hoped he would but you never wanted to bring it up, you were too scared he’d laugh at you. You knew he would never do that but that didn’t stop your fear from festering inside you. 
“Lover?” You whispered to him, holding him tighter.
“Mhm,” he hummed proudly. He titled his head to make eye contact with you, faint hunger sparkled in his eyes as his eyes began trailing down your face.
Your heart picked up speed and Lucifer grinned, he could hear and feel as your heart pounded in your chest. One of his hands held the back of your head as he moved his mouth to the crook of your neck. His teeth grazed your skin, heat blooming throughout your body. You could feel his lips turn up in a smile as his tongue slid out and began gently tracing your collarbone. You moved your hand to your mouth as Lucifer moved you against the wall, his tongue continuing to explore your upper torso. 
Once Lucifer got his fill he began to press gentle, hungry kisses along your neck, your eyes rolled with pleasure. Your free hand gripped the back of his vest and his kisses turned to biting. He nestled his head against your neck, biting down harder than previously. You sharply inhaled as he sucked on your skin, his teeth still buried in your neck as the two of you slid down against the wall and landed on the floor. Your hands clawed at his clothes back, you could feel Lucifer smile against you. 
He pulled back, licking his lips as he looked at you. You were breathless as you panted, your mind fuzzy. He smirked at you and wiped his mouth of any saliva that had fallen down his chin. He eyed you with half-lidded eyes as he.. Stood up? 
Lucifer rested his hands on his hips as he looked down at you, puffing out his chest slightly. “Well, it seems like it is time for bed,” he said nonchalantly, looking at his non-existent watch.
You stared at him, shocked. No way he was going to leave you like this. “Wh- what? You’re.. Going to bed?” You stammered. You were a mess on the floor, your heart still pounding in your ears. 
He shrugged, “Yeah, why not?” He said, his yellow eyes staring smugly at you.
You sputtered out some noises that were supposed to be words but nothing made sense. He leaned over and moved his hand under your chin, making you look at him.
“Don’t worry, Darling. We will continue this tomorrow,” he said with a sharp smile. He kissed your head softly, “Goodnight, dear. Rest well, you’ll need it.”
You practically melted into the floor as he let go and walked over to the door. He grabbed the handle, the door creaking as it opened. Lucifer gave you one final grin as he walked out, the door clicking behind him. 
You barely slept last night, despite being warned. How were you supposed to sleep after that? He can’t just make you a mess, desperate for more, and then leave you! 
Well, you guess he can, considering that is exactly what he did. All you did last night was shake with anticipation and desire, your mind wide awake even as you tried to fall asleep. It was futile, though, as you knew you already were fully awake and had no chance of falling asleep. When your alarm clock rang you were quick to turn it off. You both did and didn’t want it to be morning. 
On one hand, you really wanted to see what Lucifer had planned. On the other, you had barely slept and you had a feeling the fallen angel was going to destroy you. You sighed and rubbed your tired eyes as you slung your legs over the side of the bed. You pushed yourself off the bed and walked over to your bathroom. You felt pretty good today, other than being sleep deprived and you were tired of feeling useless, no more off days. 
You showered, the warm water waking you up, and brushed your teeth. You looked at yourself in the mirror and flexed your wings. Your torn wing looked better than it did yesterday, in a few more days you’d be able to fly. Maybe you could get flying lessons from Lucifer. Once you were dry enough you tugged on your clean uniform and walked out your room. 
You covered your mouth as you yawned, walking into the kitchen bumping into Lucifer. 
“Shit!” You exclaimed before apologizing, “Sorry, didn’t see you there.”
“Ha ha,” He dryly laughed, “haven’t heard that one before.”
“That’s not- I didn’t-” You stammered before giving up, “Why are you in here?”
“I’m here to help you!” He smiled. He was still not wearing his overcoat with his sleeves rolled up, showing off his dark forearms that laid underneath. His hat was also missing which allowed his slicked back blonde hair to be seen.
“What?” 
“I didn’t think it was that hard of a concept to grasp,” he teased. “I’m here to help you make breakfast.”
“No no, I got that,” You roll your eyes playfully. “I meant, why are you helping me? This is my job, I can handle it.”
“Oh, I’m well aware, I’ve tasted your cooking before.” He responded with a grin, “I’m just making sure you don’t get too tired! I don’t want you exhausted before tonight.”
Your face felt like the surface of the Sun as you just merely nodded. Words were not working for you. You walked over to this week’s schedule. Seems this morning you were making a relatively easy breakfast; waffles topped with blueberries, strawberries and whipped cream with a side of  chocolate scones and bacon. Easy enough. 
“Alright, well, if you’re helping me this morning can you start on the bacon?” You asked as you reached for the all-purpose flour and salt. 
He nodded and grabbed the bacon out of the fridge, setting the package on the counter next to the stove. Lucifer bent down and grabbed a frying pan from one of the lower cabinets before straightening his back and setting it atop a burner. You turned away and grabbed the other ingredients for the waffles and you could hear the pieces of pork begin to sizzle against the hot pan. 
Eventually you had the batter and poured a small portion of it into a waffle iron. Lucifer had finished the bacon and you asked him to start on the scones, and he agreed. While the first waffle cooked you went to the fridge and grabbed the berries before running them under the faucet. The light on the waffle maker flashed green and you set the berries down and carefully placed the first waffle onto a plate you had set next to it.
You continued to make the waffles and Lucifer grabbed the cocoa powder, baking powder and other needed ingredients for the scones. You watched as he combined the dry ingredients before adding the butter. It was mesmerizing to watch him work around the kitchen. You may have been the hotel chef, but damn. The efficiency and grace of this man made you almost not notice the flashing green light. You mumbled an “oh shit” before plating another waffle.
The two of you finished up breakfast fairly quickly since there were two of you and Lucifer helped you set the table. You set out the plates and glasses as he neatly placed the utensils. Once everything was set up you leaned out the dining room doors.
“Breakfast!” You called. You could hear the conversations quiet down and grow once more, this time accompanied by the echoing of footsteps. 
As the group got closer you could make out their conversation.
“I’m starved!” You heard Angel complain.
“Would ya’ quit your whining? You’re about to eat,” Husk said in his usual gruff tone, a small smile forming on his lips.
You held open the door for them as they entered, flashing them a smile. Charlie was towards the back of the group. She stopped next to you, her eyes were glossy like she was about to start crying. You closed the door to the dining room so you could talk to her.
“Are you-” You were cut off as she hugged you, sniffling.
She pulled away and wiped her eyes, “I’m just- I’m just so happy to have extra help around here. I know I have the other helping but you came to me and offered . And, it just means so much to me.” She gave you another quick hug.
You smiled warmly at her, patting her back, “I’m glad you’ve allowed me to help you achieve your dream.”
Charlie shifted in your embrace, sniffling once more, “What if- What if this doesn’t work?”
You pulled her away and held her shoulders gently, “Charlie, you have worked so hard on this hotel, there is no way it won’t work!” 
She opens her mouth to say something but you cut her off, “And even if it doesn’t, even if Heaven doesn’t allow sinners to be redeemed, it will still make Hell a better place. And I am so proud of you.” 
As you spoke her eyes welled with tears once more and embraced you for the third time. Ever since you started dating Lucifer, you felt way closer to Charlie, as if she were your child as well. Of course, you’d never force her to view you that way. You hoped you weren’t making Charlie uncomfortable or making her feel like you were wrecking their already broken family more. But by the way she confided in you and how we reacted to your help, you figured things would be alright.
 You gave her a quick squeeze before letting her go and opening the doors. Everyone else was eating, except Lucifer, who had been quietly looking for you. He found your eyes and then looked at Charlie, who was wiping away her tears once more as she sat down. Lucifer walked up to you.
“Is everything alright?” Lucifer asked, worry coating his every word.
You nodded, “She was thanking me for working here.”
His eyes now held pride as he smiled, “That’s my girl.” He turned to look over at her, admiration and joy flowed over every inch of his being. 
The pride Lucifer held for his daughter was adorable. He was so proud of her, even if he was bad at showing it. You set a hand on one of his shoulders, smiling at him. He placed one of his own hands on yours, squeezing your hand as he continued to watch his daughter and her friends chat over breakfast.
The rest of the day went by uneventfully. Well, it was other than the teasing Lucifer did to you. As you were cleaning the dishes from breakfast he came up behind you, resting his head on your shoulder and wrapping his arms around your waist. He’d kiss your neck softly, mumbling words you couldn’t quite understand into your skin and when you’d ask him to repeat what he said he'd just grin at you, saying something like “you’ll find out later.” Which, while hot, would be quite ominous if you didn’t have a general idea of what he was going to do. 
You couldn’t think about it for long, otherwise you’d turn into mush and wouldn’t be able to perform your job. Your face basically never stopped burning as the day progressed. You avoided everyone, especially Angel. He’d know exactly what was up if he took one good look at you. You were never lonely, though, as Lucifer would be right there, smiling at you. 
At one point the two of you were in your room, sitting on your bed. You quietly hoped and wished he’d hurry up and do what he said he would. However, any time you hinted at it, he’d look at you and feign ignorance and then laugh as you’d get flustered.
“I know it’s hard for you to wait, my darling,” he’d coo, placing a hand on your cheek as he grinned. “After dinner, wouldn’t want anyone to hear.”
Finally, after hours of waiting, dinner came and went without any problems. Once everyone finished up and you said your goodnights as they walked out the door. You closed the dining room doors, your entire body heating up as Lucifer smirked knowingly at you. You felt his gaze on you as you did your best to clean up in a quick manner. You just wanted to be done as fast as possible, you wanted to be out of the kitchen. Worst part was Lucifer didn’t even help, he just watched as he leaned against the wall, his smug grin never wavering. 
You’d never cleaned the kitchen faster than you had that night. Once the plates and glasses were in the correct cabinets and the utensils in their drawers, Lucifer walked over and tugged you through a portal. The place was unfamiliar as you looked around. There was a lavish bed, a small table on either side. A few shelves lined the wall, various ducks occupying them. There was also a workbench against one of the walls, a family portrait of Lucifer, Charlie and who you assumed to be Charlie’s mother hung above it. There was a window on the other side, you had to be in the hotel still as you could see the city from a nearby window.
“Welcome to my room,” Lucifer said, answering your question.
Ah, that explained the ducks and photo. You were snapped back into reality as Lucifer pressed you against the wall. He nibbled on your neck before moving his head up.
“Are you sure you want this?” He whispered, his eyes sincere and they locked onto yours. 
You nodded, “Yes, I’m sure.”
He wasted no further time as he pressed his lips against yours, your tongues dancing in each other’s mouth. His clawed hands began to unbutton your uniform and it was clear it was taking a lot in him to not tear it off of you. He eventually got it off, leaving your chest exposed to him. He broke away from the kiss and picked you up, laying you on his plush, comfortable bed. He grinned down at you as he stood at the end of the bed. His fingers trailed down your chest and to your waist, his claws tugging at the waistband of your pants. Lucifer gingerly unzipped your pants before pulling them off of you along with your underwear, grinning down at what laid before him. 
With a swift motion he was shirtless, revealing his thin form that was faintly muscular. He crawled on top of you, his eyes hungry as he locked eyes with you. As his hips neared yours, you could feel the bulge of his pants grow and you couldn’t help yourself from thrusting your hips upwards against it. Lucifer sharply inhaled before lowering his mouth against your chest, running his tongue along every crevice he could reach, memorizing how each and every part of you tasted. 
Your eyes rolled back and you bucked your hips against his once more. Lucifer chuckled as he lifted his head from his exploration, “So needy..” 
You melted from his words and he continued exploring. His tongue retreated back into his mouth and was replaced by his teeth as they pierced your skin and you couldn’t stop the moan from escaping your mouth. Your noises only fed into his hunger for you as he traveled back up your body, leaving a trail of bites in his wake. Your fingers dug into his back as he continued.
Lucifer pulled away from your body, peering down and smiling at his artwork. His eyes flicked back up to you as he slowly began to unzip his own pants. Your eyes darted back and forth to his hand and his eyes until he was finally fully revealed. 
Lucifer grabbed your waist firmly as he lined himself up before thrusting in harshly. You screamed his name as he pounded you into his mattress. He was hitting every pleasurable spot inside you and you were mush in his hands as he went in and out. The bed rocked with each powerful thrust Lucifer’s hips did against yours. You could feel yourself near climax already. 
He continued to fuck you into oblivion, soft grunts and moans escaping his lips, which only aided in pushing you over the edge as your muscles tensed and finished. But Lucifer wasn’t done as he continued to rock the bed with you, his pace quickening randomly to break the rhythm he had going to catch you off guard. His name was all you could say in between moans and screams of pleasure. It wasn’t long until you neared a second climax as Lucifer’s movements became desperate. He thrusted quicker and with each sound of skin against skin you drew nearer. Lucifer let out a loud moan as warmth bloomed in your stomach as the two of you finished.
Lucifer looked at you lovingly as he panted. Sweat coated both of your bodies as Lucifer carefully pulled out. Lucifer leaned forward carefully, kissing you gently on the lips before he retreated to the bathroom. You caught your breath and you could hear water start running as Lucifer started the bath. While his exhaustion had weakened him, his weak state was well strong enough to carry you to the bathroom, in which he gently set you in the warm water. He slid into the tub as well and sat next to you as one of his arms wrapped around you. 
The two of you sat in a comfortable silence in the bath, the warm water easing your muscles and washing off the sweat. Lucifer clung to your side, never once moving without somehow touching you. As the water peacefully lapped at the side of the tub, you rested your head on Lucifer’s chest, his heartbeat lulling you to sleep.
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