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absurdthirst · 8 months

Text

Surrogate Love {Dave York x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 14.9k

Warnings: Surrogacy, mentions of impregnation, emotional distance, fighting, drowning feelings, mentions of masturbation, crossing boundaries, technical infidelity, vaginal sex, ovulation, sex to procreate, cock warming, cheating, oral sex (female receiving), pregnancy, divorce

Comments: When Carol cannot have anymore children, she and Dave turn to seeking for a surrogate. Finding you, Dave grows closer to you as Carol seemingly pulls farther away. Leading to a discovery that will alter the agreement between you and the Yorks and allow you and Dave to fall deeper into a complicated love.

Co-written with @pedropascalsx

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|| MasterList || Dave York MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

Surrogate Wanted! -Family of four looking for a surrogate to help complete our loving family. -All medical and additional pregnancy related expenses covered. -Plus a fee for carrying the child! -Looking for a young, healthy woman to commit to carrying our child, temporarily moving into our space whilst pregnant and for a few months afterwards to breastfeed. -Must be willing to undergo routine medical testing. -Contact us below if you’re interested!

You read the advertisement over and over before sending an email. Attaching your latest medical and a few details about your family history. Money is tight. Unbelievably tight. And doing this would not only help your financial strain, but you would be doing something wonderful for a family.

What’s the harm in applying? You mumble to yourself after hitting send on the email. Unsure if you’ll even get a response.

“Honey, look at this one.” Dave looks up from his computer to find Carol leaning over his shoulder, reading the email already. “What do you think?” He asks. There have been a few other emails, but they were all unsuitable and this woman has already started providing medical information. And a picture of how lovely she is.

“She looks nice,” Carol says with a roll of her eyes, trying to seem interested as she pulls on her new dress, ready for a girls night out. “Invite her over for an informal interview.”

“Okay.” Dave frowns as he looks over at Carol. “Are you still going out?” He asks. “I thought -“

“My sister needs this,” she says with a pout, “I can’t let her down. It’s just a few hours with the girls. Drinks and karaoke.”

“Okay, yeah sure.” Dave sighs but he nods his head. Carol says that she’s interested in this, she was the one to suggest it. Hiring a surrogate so that third dream baby could happen, but so far it’s been Dave doing all the leg work on this.

Carol lightly pecks Dave's cheek as she grabs her purse ready to go. “Don’t wait up, honey.”

****

Your phone pings with an email alert, asking if you’d be interested in an informal meeting to see if it could potentially be a good fit.

‘Hello, Mr. York.

Thanks for the prompt reply, I would love to arrange a meeting. There’s a cafe just outside the National Mall called ‘Cherry Blossoms’, If you’re free tomorrow we could meet there?

Kind regards.’

The polite response makes Dave interested in meeting the candidate and he quickly sends a reply, agreeing to the time and place. After he does that, he pulls out his work laptop to do some background checks on the person who might be carrying his next child.

‘See you and your wife tomorrow at 1pm.’ You send back, anxious about meeting them but excited about the same time.

****

Arriving at the cafe, Dave sighs and rolls his shoulders back. Aware that the meeting might go horribly sideways since his wife couldn’t drag her hungover ass out of bed to do more than puke in the shower. She was in no condition to come and he had to smother his irritation since he hadn’t told her about this meeting this morning. Instead of dwelling on that, he steps up to the counter and orders a coffee and a muffin, since she hadn’t arrived yet. A quick glance around had told him that.

You walk into the cafe and make your way up to the counter, ordering a hot chocolate before looking around to see if you can spot the couple. A very handsome man puts his hands up and waves to you and you assume that he must be Dave York.

Prettier than he had noticed in the pictures, Dave stands up as you walk over. “I’m sorry.” He starts out, introducing himself and offering his hand. “My wife couldn’t make our meeting this morning. She’s….under the weather.”

You reach out and shake his hand and offer him a warm smile, before taking a seat. “Poor thing, I’m so sorry to hear that! Is she okay? Would you like to reschedule?”

He is surprised that you don’t want to cancel. “Only if you would rather wait to meet my wife?” He flashes you a grin. “Make sure I’m legitimate?”

“I’m happy either way,” you say, before thanking the waitress who’s handing you your drink. “I mean we’re both here, so a chat couldn’t do any harm.”

“That’s what I was thinking.” The background checks on you have come up clean but he wants to know more about you. “What questions do you have for me?”

“If it’s not too personal… Why surrogacy?” You ask before taking a sip of your hot chocolate and humming in delight at the taste.

He had expected that question so he is pulling out his wallet, flipping it open to show you a picture of his family, taken last Christmas. “My youngest, Molly, when she was born, Carol had a lot of complications.” He explains. “She ended up needing a complete hysterectomy.” He had hated it, but it was that or lose his wife and he would rather have her. “That’s my oldest daughter, Alice.” He points to the older girl.

“They’re gorgeous,” you say, peering down at their smiling faces, “I’m sorry to hear about the complications your wife went through. I’m glad to see that both your wife and your daughter are okay though. Do you have any questions for me?”

“Are you okay with using your egg?” He asks seriously. “That would be required, or you would have to go through implantation.”

“Yes, I’m fine with that. Happy for the testing as well… uh… my periods are like clockwork. And I have an app that tracks ovulation.”

“Okay, good.” You don’t seem to think that it’s odd. “All your medical care will be taken care of.” He promises.

“Good to know,” you clear your throat before asking the next question, “If you were to select me, I’d have one hard rule.”

Dave arches a brow and nods. “What is that?”

“You said that you’d require me to move in, I would like at least 4-6 weeks notice before you’re ready to move away from breastfeeding. So I have sufficient time to find myself somewhere to live.”

“Of course.” That’s more than reasonable. “And if you find you would need more time because of the market at that time, I’m sure we can work something out.”

“That sounds good,” you say with a smile, “Just so you know, I am employed. 24 hours a week, I work from home. But I’d be more than happy to help around the house, babysit so you and your wife can have time alone and so on. I graduated college and I majored in computer sciences and I work for a social media company and stay on top of their coding.”

He nods and if he thinks that the hours are low, he doesn’t mention it. Your finances and work are not his concern. It might be good for you to work less while you are carrying the baby. “But so you know, you aren’t obligated.”

“It’s an entry position job,” you say after noticing his reaction to your low hours, “Money is tight and it’s an industry that you’ve got to climb. I took what was available. But i’m an honest hard worker. And I know, I also don’t want you to think I’d expect you to offer me anything until I've met your family and after the medical is done.”

“We pay for the medical, you live with us and breast feed the baby - if you can.” Dave knows that sometimes the baby doesn’t want to latch or milk isn’t plentiful. “And we would pay you eighty thousand dollars.” He holds up a finger. “But no dating or sex during your pregnancy. I don’t want to risk the baby’s health.”

“Yeah I don’t date,” you say with a giggle, “I uh, I’m not the most confident person and casual sex isn’t something I’ve ever had any interest in. $80,000? Perfect. That’s enough to start my life and find somewhere comfortable to rent once the baby is born.”

Now comes his own questions. "Why are you willing to do this?" He asks you, leaving forward and watching you carefully. "And will you be able to give up the baby once they are weaned?"

“Financial stability,” you say honestly, “And yes. I’ll sign anything that’s required.”

"Obviously I'd want you to meet my wife first." Dave leans back, confident that you are what he is looking for. "Once we agree, we could start insemination procedures the following cycle."

“That sounds great. Name the time and place, I’d love to meet your wife.” You say before eyeing up his muffin and trying to work out if you want one. “So what is it that you do Mr York?”

“I work for the DIA.” He sees you eyeing the muffin and takes the knife to cut it in half. He offers it to you and smiles. “Government bureaucrat.”

“Thank you,” you say with your brightest smile, “It’s a bit too early for me to be stealing your food, I don’t have the pregnancy excuse yet. I’m sorry. And whoa. That sounds intense.”

“These muffins are huge.” Dave chuckles and gives a small shrug. “It’s got its moments, but it pays well.”

“Nice,” you say before taking a bite and moaning at how delicious and moist it is. “This is heaven.”

"It's a good little treat." He agrees, finishing off his own half in two quick bites.

“When and where would you like me to meet your wife?”

"Can I call you to schedule a time?" He asks, pulling out his phone. "I don't know when she will be feeling better." It's better you believe that she's sick than just hungover.

“Oh, of course. I’m sorry I didn’t think,” you say with a flood of embarrassment. “And is there anything you’d like me to do in the meantime? I could schedule an appointment with my gynecologist?”

"Don't worry about that." He shakes his head and gives you a smile. You are a little awkward but it's endearing in a way. "I'll text you when I figure out how long it will be and we can arrange something? We can schedule doctor appointments after everyone's met and you can give your final decision on if you would like to do this for us."

“That sounds good,” you beam, “Yeah, you can text me anytime.” The next set of words slip out of you mouth before you’ve even realized you said them and it’s in that moment you’re convinced you’ve blown it. “God. I never thought i’d have the baby of a man who looks as good as you inside of me.”

He's shocked by your honesty and for a moment he freezes, but he grins at the mortification that is riding over your face. "You think I look good, huh?"

“Oh god, I’m so sorry, Mr York,” you groan, “Of course I do. Shit. You’re gorgeous. I didn’t mean to… Fuck. I’m so sorry.”

"That's okay." Dave chuckles and shakes his head. "Attraction is normal. The first thing I noticed was how attractive you were."

You can’t stop the smile that spreads across your entire face as he compliments you, “Thank you, Mr York.”

"Our DNA will produce a very attractive child." He hums, sending you a playful wink.

****

Almost a month since the initial meeting has passed and everything has been great. You met Carol a few days later and the girls a few days after that. Dave had arranged for you to be seen by the most fought after gynecologist in D.C. and all your tests came back great. He had loaded you up with ovulation tests and the decision for home insemination to reduce stress had been made. Dave and Carol would spend time alone together and once he was about to ejaculate he would finish in the pots provided and Carol would bring them down to you and help with the process.

Dave had just helped bring your last box into the basement they had converted that would be your home for the foreseeable future and you were excited.

"Do you need anything else?" Dave asks as he sets the box down and looks around. "I have changed the locks on the basement door, rekeyed them to the rest of the locks in the house." He fishes a set of keys out of his pocket for the walk out door to the side yard. "So you can go out that door if you want."

“No. This is perfect, Mr York,” you say as you look around your new home, “I insist on buying dinner tonight to say thank you.”

He chuckles and shrugs. "It's Friday, we normally order Chinese." He admits with a grin.

“Let me know what to order and where to collect,” you say before giving him a brief thank you hug. Clearly surprising him in the process.

"Oh- uh, you're welcome." He pats your back awkwardly and shoots you a grin. "The girls are easy. Sweet and sour chicken and fried rice for both of them." They had been introduced to you and had immediately found that you were the most fascinating person they had ever met and had a million questions for you.

“And for you and Mrs York?” You love the girls. They have already made you promise to watch a disney movie with them tonight and you’re honestly excited about it.

"Carol likes vegetable lo mein and spring rolls." He tells you with a small shrug. "Me- I like General Tso's shrimp."

“Got it,” you say with a grin. “Consider dinner sorted. And afterwards once the girls are in bed, we can start the process tonight? I mean I'm ovulating and there’s no point in missing a cycle right?”

Dave nods. "Yeah. We can do that before bed." He rolls his eyes and sighs. "I know it's stupid and superstitious, but would you tilt your hips up with a pillow for at least an hour after it's injected?"

“Of course!” You say excitedly, happy to make this happen for them. “Can you believe that part of you will be inside of me tonight!” You say without realizing just how filthy it sounds.

He bites his lip, trying not to say something dirty in return. He knows that you want to help give him and Carol another baby and it’s not going to work if he gets too close to you. “Hopefully, we’ll get lucky on the first try.”

“Fingers crossed, Mr York.”

****

"I have already told them that I'm going out." Carol huffs as she looks at Dave with a pout. "I can't back out now. I'm supposed to pick them up." She shrugs a shoulder. "I thought we would let the poor thing at least unpack before we start shooting her full of your sperm."

Dave huffs and rolls his eyes. "She's ovulating, Carol." He reminds her. "It's not like we can reschedule that."

“I can’t reschedule this. She’ll still be ovulating tomorrow, honey, we can do it then. And make sure you don’t order me food,” she says as she goes back into the bathroom, “We’re getting tapas.”

It's been fucking months. Months of every ovulation cycle he jerks off into a cup and Carol quickly rushes downstairs to inject it inside you. Months of disappointment when your period comes. You have apologized and apologized, cried about it and offered to go back to the doctor for the fifth time, but Dave can't blame you. He sighs and shoves his hand through his hair. "Do you even want to do this?" He demands, feeling like his wife is just brushing this off when it was her idea in the first place. "It doesn't seem like it."

“Of course I do, sweetheart,” she grits out, before rolling her eyes. “These things can take time. Look I know she’s ovulating now, but why don’t we skip this month. Let her destress and pick it up next month. Plus it’ll mean she can take the girls to their after school clubs for me this week, if you’re not obsessing over her cycle.

Dave sighs and shakes his head. "She's not the damn nanny, Carol." He reminds her, having noticed that there have been a lot of 'favors' his wife has been demanding of you despite Dave telling her that she shouldn't be. You weren't here to fucking pick up the girls. You were here to try to give the family the third child both of them said they wanted.

“She’s being paid $80,000,” Carol snaps, “She can do some work for it. I’m not arguing with you. It’s girls night. I refuse to leave the house stressed, or thinking about your goddamn cum, David.”

"You've been having a lot of goddamn ‘girls nights’, Carol." Dave snaps back, clenching his jaw. "Why don't you stay home for once and be a fucking wife and mother?" It's gone from a couple of times a month to two, sometimes three times a week and he's sick of it.

“I need to support my sister, she’s going through a rough time,” Carol repeats for the hundredth time this week, despite never elaborating and her sister always being in high spirits when she visits the house. “I probably won’t be home tonight. Tanya has suggested we go back to hers after food as her husband is away. I’ll be back mid-morning.”

That hazy suspicion niggles in the back of his mind but he doesn't voice it. Instead he sighs and shakes his head. "Just- you still want to do this, right?" He asks again, this time trying not to accuse her. "If you changed your mind, you just need to talk to me."

“Of course, I do,” she says again, “But you’ve gotta be more patient. It takes time. And sometimes it just doesn’t happen. We can give it a few more months… And if it doesn’t happen then… we can tell her to move on and we will have $80,000 to spend on a dream vacation.”

"We could always have her egg harvested and do IVF?" Dave suggests, still not ready to give up on the idea of having that third child that they had always talked about. He was trained to find solutions and this was something he wanted.

“Let’s just keep trying it like this,” she says before grabbing her phone and her purse and getting ready to leave. “She’s bathing the girls right now, tell them Mommy will see them in the morning.”

His jaw clenches as he watches his wife stroll out of their bedroom as if there wasn't a care in the world to be had. Irritated that she was using you to take care of the girls once again. By the time he leaves the bedroom, the front door is closing and he sighs again, moving towards the bathroom where there is a lot of splashing and giggling.

“Hey,” you say as Dave enters the room, and sees you’re just as soaked as the girls. “Made the mistake of letting them play with their water pistols in the tub.”

“Daddy, are we still watching Frozen tonight?” Alice squeals excitedly as he kneels down in front of the tub.

“Of course, sweet pea.” Dave nods as he looks over at you. “I’ll finish bathing the girls if you want to go dry off.”

With a raised eyebrow you keep looking over at Dave and lean down to whisper to the girls with a sneaky look on your face. “Daddy looks awfully dry doesn’t he, babies.”

The adorable giggles that start to fill the room again makes your heart soar as they turn to face a skeptical Dave. And without a second's hesitation they blasters are being pointed in Dave’s direction, their tiny fingers hovering over the trigger.

"Don't you do it." He warns softly, shooting them a faux stern look. "You don't want to start something you can't finish, little girls."

“3 against 1,” You say with a laugh, “He’s bluffing. We’ve got this… 3,2,1… shoot!”

Dave growls, ducking his head when three streams of water start to soak him and he reaches out to slap his arm through the bathtub to send a wall of water across the tub and the instigator of his attack.

You yelp before bursting into a fit of giggles, “I yield, I yield,” you choke out, as the girls continue to soak Dave.

Dave grabs your water gun and turns it on the girls with ruthless glee as they start to shriek and try to avoid his one barrage.

Watching Dave with his girls reaffirms how badly you want to do this for him, he’s the most loving father and it just warms your heart to see how great he is with them. You watch happily for a few minutes as the excitement dies down and the girls start to get restless and want out of the bath. You take Molly as he takes Alice, getting them dried and dressed into their pajamas before sending them downstairs to get comfortable on the sofa so you can set up the movie.

After you’re all dressed in your pajamas and the movie is playing you in the background you whisper to Dave, “Where’s Carol? I got some tips to help with insemination. I thought we’d try tonight.”

Dave sighs and turns to look at you, honestly hurt that his wife has pushed this off. He wants this so bad and he's starting to become frustrated. "She's out. Something about her sister again." He doesn't tell you that she suggested taking off this month, not willing to speak on it. "Do you think you could....do it yourself?"

“Oh,” you say quietly, “I mean I could try. I read somewhere that inserting it slowly rather than pushing it straight in is a better method. Also I read something else that’s supposed to help, so I can try that at the same time.”

"What else?" He frowns, wondering if there's something that he needs to get you or order you. He's been reading everything he can get his hands on but if you've found something, he's all ears.

“Uh,” you say quietly, before looking over at the girls and checking their still engrossed in the movie, “I read an article about um…” Shaking your head, you reach into your pocket and pull out your phone and bring up the article on clitoral stimulation helping the insemination process.

Dave takes your phone and purses his lips as he starts to read. His brows change, lifting and his expression shifting as he delves into the writing and hums. "I- I don't see why you shouldn't try it." He clears his throat and tries not to think about you playing with your clit or anything sexual. This is just supposed to be for making this baby. "But...." He sighs. "That syringe is really long." He frowns, unsure why Carol had decided to pick up a new type when the supplies had run out, but he can't blame her for not wanting to get too close to another woman's vagina. He personally thinks that she is harborning some resentments that she can't carry the baby and is just unwilling to admit it. "Are you sure you'll be able to handle it?'

“I’m not sure,” you say with a shrug, “Maybe I’ll just focus on the syringe. I just can’t really do the other thing with Carol around as it would be uncomfortable for us both. I just really want to do this for you. The worst thing that can happen is I need to change my sheets I guess.”

"If-" He starts and shakes his head. "No, that would be too much." He blows out a disappointed sigh, aware that another opportunity will most likely be lost.

“Tell me,” you say with a raised eyebrow.

"Only if you're comfortable with it...." he stresses, not wanting you to feel pressured in any kind of way. "I could help you." He offers quietly. "Not like I haven't made two kids before. Just not quite with a glorified turkey baster." He huffs, trying to make a joke of it.

“If you’re sure?” You say, “I mean it’s not like it takes long. I could make sure I’m ready and it’ll be over and done with in a few seconds.”

"Do you think -" He sighs and leans in closer to you. The girls are absorbed in the movie but it almost seems wrong to even think about what he's going to say next. It definitely crosses a line but he's tired of jerking off in a cup. "I could do it there and just....transfer it." He suggests. As it stands right now, he's jerking off upstairs and Carol is then taking the cum downstairs to the kitchen, filling the syringe and then carrying it down to you. Maybe something is happening in transit. "I mean, I could use your bathroom?"

“I mean it’s usually cold by the time Carol gets it in the syringe,” you say with a shrug, “So yeah, downstairs is fine.”

Dave frowns, wondering how long it takes for the sperm to cool down, but then again, it's always cool to the touch a couple of minutes after he cums on Carol's tits. "Only if you're comfortable with it." He reminds you. "I don't- don't want you to feel like I'm pushing boundaries."

“We’re making a baby, right? That’s the endgame here. I think sometimes different measures are necessary. When the girls are in bed, we can go downstairs and go from there.”

Dave nods, thankful that you are taking such a rational approach and he shoots you a smile. "Thank you." He whispers softly. "I know that it's not easy for you."

“I just hate that I’ve let you down so far,” you say, a lump forming in your throat, “I just want to make you happy.”

"You haven't let me down." He reaches over and covers your hand with his, squeezing it gently. "Without you, we wouldn't even have this hope. So don't ever think you are letting us down."

The past few months you’ve gotten closer and closer to Dave, spending most evenings eating together and watching a movie. It’s hard not to feel softened by him, despite his tough exterior he’s always so kind and your heart leaps at his touch. “Thank you, Dave.”

The rest of the movie flies by and before you know it the girls are giving you a kiss and hug goodnight. “I’ll see you in the morning, babies,” you promise.

Dave looks at you and you nod, signaling it’s okay for him to join you in the basement once the girls are asleep.

Dave waits until he knows they are asleep, checking on them and closing the bedroom doors as he walks down the hallway. He checks the doors and sets the alarm since Carol isn’t coming home and swallows slightly as he makes his way down to your basement apartment and knocks on the door.

“Come in,” you say with a shaky breath, you’re sitting cross legged on your bed. “How do you wanna do this? If you need porn while you… uh, yeah, I can wait in the hall and you can set it up on the TV.”

“No.” Dave shakes his head. “I don’t need porn.” He bites his lip. “I know you said you wanted to…masturbate before, so where do you want me to?”

“Wherever you’re most comfortable,” you say before biting your bottom lip, “I’m happy to follow your lead.”

He shifts, the idea that pops into his head makes his eyes widen and his cock twitches. He can’t suggest that. It would be completely wrong.

“We could watch each other,” you say, before looking down at your hands, not wanting to see rejection in his face.

Dave’s heart leaps and his head whips around to look at you. Wondering if he had actually heard that for a moment but you are so fluster it must have been. “It’s just to make the baby.” He reasons. “Right? You’ve seen a dick before.”

“Yeah,” you say with a nod of your head, “It’s not like we’re touching each other.”

“Yeah.” Dave frowns slightly, knowing Carol wouldn’t be happy but Carol’s not here and he doesn’t want to waste an ovulation day. “You can use your wand or hand or whatever and I can-“ he grins. “Old fashioned way for me is best.”

“I’ll use my hand… Do you want to see my tits?” You ask softly, not wanting to assume that he’ll want you to fully strip off.

His mouth goes dry and he tries to swallow. “It’s not like I won’t see them when you're breastfeeding.” He reasons again. “But it’s up to you. However you feel comfortable.”

“Will it help you get off? I don’t mind.”

“I like tits.” He admits, rolling his eyes at himself. “But I don’t have to see them.”

“Okay. I’ll stay up here and you can kneel at the bottom of the bed? Will that be comfortable for you.”

“That will work.” He agrees, raising his brow. “Do you want me naked?” He asks. “Or to just pull my cock out?”

“Naked.”

Dave nods, pulling his shirt over his head and dropping it onto the floor. “Okay.”

The sight of his broad shoulders and chest makes your moan, and you follow suit. Pulling off your t-shirt, undoing your bra and pulling your sleep shorts and panties off in one clean sweep.

You’re attractive. He knows this. He’s attracted to you, and there’s nothing wrong with that. He’s not trying to sleep with you. He’s not trying to cheat on his wife, he’s trying to make a baby so he and Carol can complete their family. He unzips his pants and pulls them down to kick off.

You can’t keep your eyes off of him, he’s known from day one that you’re attracted to him. You open your legs and reveal your glistening pussy to him, already drenched at just the thought of watching him alone. And you gather some of your slick and drag it up to your clit before drawing slow circles around it.

His boxers come off next and he kneels on the bed, hard cock already bouncing as he does. Eyes fixed on your cunt as he spits in his hand and starts to coat himself in it.

“Fuck,” you mumble at his filthy action, only slightly increasing the pace in which you circle your clit. You don’t want to cum too quickly, you want to enjoy this moment.

“You rub your clit.” He groans, spitting again and wrapping his hand around his cock to start slowly stroking it. “Does it feel good?”

“Feels so good,” you say, as moans start to slip through your lips, “You look so good stroking your cock. It’s so big,” you start to murmur, “So thick. You’ve got a gorgeous cock, Dave.”

It’s been a long time since someone paid him compliments, making him feel like they mean them. His and Carol’s sex life has dropped off drastically and she claims it’s just because wanting to save it for when you’re ovulating.

You watch the way his wrist expertly flicks as he strokes himself, and reach up to soft palming your tit with your free hand. Needing so much more than you can get, you start to rub your clit faster and faster, feeling arousal dripping from you as you bite down the urge to moan his name.

“Shit.” Dave hisses, watching your hand tease your breast and he grunts as his hips rock forward into his hand. This isn’t about wanting to bite your tit and suck on it. It’s about cumming quickly and filling your womb up with his seed.

You watch the pre-cum leak from his top, groaning when he swipes it with his thumb and spreads it down his cock, “Dave,” you moan, “I’m gonna cum.”

“Good.” He grunts, shuffling closer to see, although the cup is right there for him to grab when he’s ready. “Open up your pretty little cervix to let my cum in.”

Your fingers speed up as you chase your high, his name falls effortlessly from your lips as you’re thrown over that edge. “Oh fuck.”

“Good girl.” He grunts, twisting his wrist and groaning as he feels the first blurry edge of his orgasm start to take hold. “Gonna cum.”

“Put it inside,” you beg, “Just the tip, baby. Fill me up.”

Dave groans and he knows it’s wrong, but he does it anyway. Pushing his cock down and pushing the fat tip into your cunt, he starts to cut almost immediately. Filling you with spurt after spurt of his cum as he tries desperately not to push deeper inside you. Knowing that would be so wrong and go against what you just asked him to do.

You clench down around the tip of him, loving the way he’s stretching you open. “Fuck, put a pillow under my hips.”

Tilting your hips up with his hands pushes him deeper inside you, making him groan as he reaches for the pillow. “I- fuck.” He closes his eyes and tries not to react to how good it feels.

You can’t help the moan that leaves you as he pushes deeper and presses against the spot inside of you. “Your wife might be the luckiest woman alive.”

Dave exhales roughly and breathes out. “This is just….it’s easier to do it this way, right?” He asks. “Faster than the turkey baster.”

“Yes, and more efficient.”

Dave agrees and looks back down at you. “That article said orgasms before and after male ejaculation helps conception.” He reminds you. “We could- I could stay like this and you can cum again.” He offers.

“I can play with my pussy whilst you’re still inside of me?” you ask, wanting to make sure that’s what he’s saying.

“And…” Dave bites his lip. “If I get hard again, maybe I can try again? Make sure you

ve got a good load inside you?” He knows he will get hard again, that’s no question for him.

“Yeah, that sounds good. Really good.” You say as you run a finger through your slit, before lightly teasing your clit.

He watches, telling himself again that this is only to make the baby. That way he knows if it doesn’t happen, every possible variable has been accounted for. It’s the back up plan. And if he happens to find it sexy that you are rubbing your clit while the first three inches of his cock are inside you, that’s an added benefit.

You circle your clit with a delicious intensity, biting down on your lip as you watch his face. His eyes focused on your pussy, watching your fingers play with your bundle of nerves and listening to the soft moans that fill the room. You can feel him start to harden inside of you, and you wonder how it would feel to have him filling your needy little cunt.

“Shit.” Dave breathes out, leaning over slightly as he tries not to surge deeper inside you. “Does it feel good? Playing with your clit with me inside you?” He reaches down and wraps two fingers around the base of his cock and starts to pump, trying not to touch you out of respect.

“Feels like heaven,” you say, “How does my pussy feel?”

“Like it’s going to make me cum,” Dave grunts. “Then you’re going to carry my baby for me. Our baby.”

“Fuck,” you say, rubbing your clit even faster, feeling your pussy start to flutter around his tip. “The things I want you to do to me.”

Dave hisses and closes his eyes. Knowing that it’s straying into dangerous territory. “Cum for me.”

Within seconds of his command you’re clamping down around him, your clit pulsing with pleasure as you flood his cock. His name is now a chant that you repeat over and over again.

“Shit, shit.” Dave groans, his own jerky pulls on his cock pushing him closer. “Fuck, gonna fill you up again.”

“Do it, fuck your baby into me.”

It pushes him over the edge and Dave can’t help but push completely into your cunt, filling you up as he starts to paint your walls again. “Fuck- I- I’m sorry.”

“Fuck,” you moan, “Feel so fucking good.” You pant as his cock twitches inside of you, filling you up with his warm seed.

He shouldn’t have ground into you. He shouldn’t have filled you up like that. It was cheating. Dave closes his eyes and pulls his hips back. “Are you okay?” He asks awkwardly.

“I’m okay, are you?” You say, seeing the guilt on his face and feeling your heartbreak over it.

“I’m good.” He promises you. “I just- I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry, I didn’t ask.”

“I was practically begging you.” Reaching over you gently press your hand to his cheek, “We were just making a baby. Nothing else.”

“Yeah.” Dave nods, reminding himself that it’s not like he was trying to fuck you. “Hopefully it takes.” He shoots you a grateful smile.

“I hope so. Best daddy ever.” You say with a smile.

He is grateful that you think that as he shuffles off the bed to put his clothes on. “I should let you rest.” He hums.

“You should rest as well, I’ll stay like this for a half hour and then I’ll go get some water before bed.”

“Okay.” Dave nods, biting back the urge to offer to get you the water. He hadn’t been doing things like that before he stuck his dick in you, doing it now would make it weird.

“You sure you’re okay?” You ask as he starts to make his way towards the door.

“I’m good.” He turns and shoots you a reassuring grin, “just worn out.” He lies. “Baby making is tiring and I’m an old man.”

“You’re not old,” you say with a small smile, sensing his discomfort. “Goodnight, Dave. Let’s hope we just made a baby.”

“Me too, sweetheart.” Dave turns back around, “get some rest, okay?” He doesn’t wait for you to answer, letting himself out of the door as he curses himself for being such an idiot. He should have known he was going to fuck this up.

Guilt floods you. You practically begged him to enter you, and the regret that he’s wearing so clearly on his face makes your heart hurt. You don’t think he’ll ever forgive you, and you’re not sure you deserve his forgiveness. All you can do is hope you just made a baby.

Upstairs, Dave showers and tries to reassure himself that he didn’t take things too far. You had asked him to put the tip in, and thought you asked for more but he was caught up in the moment. Still, he shouldn’t have done it without making sure it was okay.

Almost 45 minutes passes before you tiptoe upstairs and get yourself a much needed bottle of water and a snack. Deciding that you’ll get to early and make everyone breakfast, you make your way back downstairs and curl up in bed. Praying you haven’t completely fucked everything up.

****

Dave doesn’t sleep. Not because of the situation with you, but because he texted Carol and she didn’t respond. And she’s turned off her location. Not that he tracks his wife, but what if something happened to her? It makes him suspicious and he doesn’t like being suspicious. Not with the line of work he is in. So when he hears the stairs creak, he’s already nursing his second cup of coffee and the oven is warming up for cinnamon rolls.

Creeping into the kitchen, you’re greeted by the unexpected sight of Dave. Your heart once again breaks at the look on his face, clearly regretting ever hiring you and before you have time to process what you want to say, the words are slipping through your lips. “Oh god, Dave, I’m so sorry. I took advantage. You just wanted to make sure that it took, and I was so delirious with pleasure that I didn’t think. I’m so sorry. I let my attraction to you cloud my judgment. Please forgive me.”

"What?" Dave frowns, turning toward you and seeing how distraught you look. You look like you are about to cry and he stands, moving towards you to hug you but then he stops. Unsure of how to touch you right now without it turning into something else. "I took advantage." He reminds you. "I'm the one who shoved it in."

“I begged you to,” you say, tears now streaming down your cheeks. “I’m so so sorry.”

Dave walks over to you and pulls you into his arms, hating that you are crying. "We just got caught up in the moment." He decides, rubbing your back gently. "You don't need to be sorry." It was a moment, a fluke where both of you were acting impulsively.

“I just want to give you a baby, Dave, I see how badly you need this.” You sob into his shoulders, “I promise I won’t overstep anymore boundaries.”

"It's okay." He shushes you, comforting you like he would if you were one of his girls. Although you aren't one of his girls, he shouldn't feel the things that he does about you. But you are so important to him, you are going to give him a baby.

You wrap your arms around him a little tighter and try to ignore the way your traitorous heart leaps at his touch. “I’m sorry, Dave.”

"No," Dave shakes his head and he kisses your hair. "Don't be sorry. It's my fault. You didn't do anything wrong." He sighs. "Carol wanted to skip this month, I'm the one who pushed. This is all me."

“Why would she want to skip?” You say, as your head tells you to loosen your grip but your heart just wants to hold on.

"I don't know." He frowns slightly. "She didn't come home last night." He reveals softly. "And she's turned off her location."

“Oh,” you say, stepping back but letting your hands linger on him. “Maybe something happened with her sister? Have you tried calling her?”

"Tried when I came downstairs to make coffee." Dave motions to his phone. "Goes to voicemail. Texts are delivered but not read. She's got her phone off."

“What about calling her sister?” You say as you rub his shoulders, trying to reassure him.

"No." If there's something else going on, he doesn't want to discover it today. Call it putting his head in the sand, but he has other priorities. "I'll deal with it later when she comes home."

“Is there anything I can do?”

“Nothing.” He promises with a small shrug. “Unless you want to help me make breakfast.”

“Bacon and eggs to go with those cinnamon rolls? Or sausage and biscuits?”

“Bacon and eggs.” The turkey bacon and eggs always go over well with the kids. Especially with cinnamon rolls.

“On it,” you say with a smile, “Do you want more coffee?”

“There should be half a pot left, but why don’t we fill up our cups and make another?” Dave suggests with a smile, walking back over to his cup to snag it off the table.

“No coffee for me,” you announce, “Caffeine intake is being sliced. Orange juice for me!”

“I’ll make sure to pick up some more when I go to the store.” He appreciates your dedication to this.

“Thank you, Dave. Should I wake the girls or wait until breakfast is ready? I was gonna cut up some strawberries.”

“I’ll go wake them.” Dave turns and then pauses. “Carol’s been having you do a lot around here and I just want to remind you that it’s not necessary.”

“I like it,” you admit, “I love the girls. Spending time with them is one of the best parts of my day.”

"Okay." He murmurs slowly. "I just don't want you to feel like you have to."

“I know, Dave.” You start to slice the strawberries and focus on that, ignoring the tension that’s floating in the air.

"Thank you again." He says before he turns back around. "For everything."

“You’re welcome,” you say softly, before finishing up breakfast and waiting for the girls to come down.

Dave wakes the girls up, chuckling when they grumble at him but they are quickly roused from their bed by the promise of an indulgent breakfast and a morning of cartoons in their pjs. Laughing to himself when they thunder down the stairs with their stuffed animals in tow.

“Hi babies,” you say as they make a beeline to the table, “Do you want milk or juice?”

"Milk!" Molly chirps while Alice simultaneously shouts "Juice!" Dave rolls his eyes at the way the girls are so very obstinate. Unlike each other in so many ways but then so alike in others.

“So milk for Alice, and juice for Molly,” you tease, before pouring the correct drink in each of their cups. “Your daddy was just telling me about how much he enjoyed the water fight from last night and how he thinks you should do it more often. Right, Daddy?”

"Oh sure." Dave nods, cutting his eyes at them. "Next time I will be fully armed." He promises with a grin that makes their little eyes widen in delight and possibly a little bit of fear.

“We can take him. Girl power. 3 against 1. He doesn’t stand a chance,” you say as they begin to giggle.

"Keep it up and I'll get the water hose out." He warns with a dark chuckle.

“Ooh, I’m so frightened,” you tease back, “What do you girls want to do today?”

"Where's mommy?" Molly frowns, looking exactly like Dave as she does.

Sensing the discomfort in Dave you answer for him, “She is out having some girl time with her friends. I bet she’s missing her babies though. So we better have a super fun day so you can tell her everything when she’s home.”

“Can we bake?” Alice says between mouthfuls of her food, “Daddy’s favorite. Chocolate cake.”

He's grateful that you answered for him and he grins. "Daddy's favorite, huh?" He asks, raising his brow. "I think it's Ms. Alice's favorite, more than mine."

You laugh as you watch their little back and forth, “Daddy, it’s your favorite because it’s my favorite. You’re so silly.”

“That’s right.” Dave snaps his fingers and looks so disappointed in himself. “I’m so sorry for forgetting, baby.”

The rest of breakfast is spent watching Dave and his girls joke around, and silently hoping that you’re going to give this man the baby he is yearning for. The girls accompany you on a trip to target for baking supplies while Dave stays home and clears up. With a cake baked and half eaten, endless episodes of Bluey streamed and a dance party that the girls had insisted you join in with over, it’s almost their bedtime and you’re just as exhausted as they are.

You take the girls up to bed as he dishes out the Indian takeout that he had ordered for you both. Carol clearly wasn’t coming home today, and seeing as she hates Indian food, he decided to indulge in his favorite as a treat.

Dave looks over at you as he eats his curry and catches your eye. “So what are your plans after the girls go to sleep?” He asks.

“Netflix I guess,” you say with a shrug, “What about you?”

“Hopefully the same as last night.” He admits, watching you carefully.

Your breath hitches, “Let’s hope they fall asleep soon then,” you reply softly.

He watches you for a moment and then nods. He's not sure if Carol will come home tonight but he doesn't care right now. "I'm sure they will."

“You want to just put the tip in again?” You ask, as the need between your legs grows.

Dave clears his throat and bites his lip. "What do you want?"

“You.”

Huffing quietly, Dave understands what you mean but he pretends that he doesn't. "My seed you mean?"

“If that’s what you’ll give me,” you say as your heart sinks, clearly having misread the situation. “Let’s make you a baby.”

Dave murmurs your name quietly to have you look at him again. “We can- I- I don’t know what you want.”

“I want you to put the baby you want in me,” you say, before looking back down at your plate and pushing your fork around.

“No.” He shakes his head. “You said you wanted me.”

“I know what I said,” you say, before pushing your chair back and standing up, “Sounds like the movie has finished. I’m going upstairs to check on the girls.”

"Wait-" He sighs as you dart out of the room and he knows that he's blown everything. He doesn't understand what is going on and he pulls his phone out of his pocket. Opening his contacts and selecting his sister-in-law's number.

The girls are fast asleep, but snuggled up to each other and gripping onto their favorite stuffed animals. You lean over and gently kiss both of their foreheads before tucking them in, seeing no use in moving Alice to her own bed when she’s quite content with her sister. Switching the TV off and turning on the nightlight, you sneak out of the room, leaving the door open slightly and making your way downstairs.

Dave's jaw is tight, his phone nearly crushed in his hand, he's gripping it so hard. Closing his eyes as he resists the urge to put his fist through a wall, or destroy something in a rage. It wouldn't do any fucking good and it would scare the girls.

“Hey,” you say, as you enter the kitchen, seeing the expression on his face. He looks furious and heartbroken at the same time, and you’re not sure whether to immediately give him space or go over and console him.

He shakes with anger, vision going white and for a moment, it sounds as if you are muted. Underwater and sounding like you are miles away as the pressure from the blood pounding in veins rushes through his ears.

You look over to the door of the basement and look back at Dave trying to gauge what the best thing to do here is. The sadness seems to have drained from his face and been replaced with sheer anger.

It takes Dave another minute before he gets ahold of himself. Purposefully thinking about something else and recalling his breathing techniques as he closes his eyes and slows his rushing heart down.

“Dave,” you say softly, as you approach him, gently reaching out and gripping his wrist, “What happened?”

"I called Maria." He tells you quietly, his voice low, nearly inaudible. "Carol isn't with her. Hasn't been with her." He inhales roughly. "She's not been out to a girl's night with her sister in nine goddamn months."

“Oh shit,” you say, before pulling him in for a hug, “Dave, I’m so sorry. Hopefully she’ll tell you the truth when she gets back.”

"She's cheating on me." Dave growls. "Maria told me everything. Carol told her that I had 'opened our marriage'." He rolls his eyes. "Told her that you were my live-in girlfriend."

“Oh, honey,” you say, letting him go and taking a step back, “I’m so so sorry.”

"Fucking bitch." He hisses, shaking his head. "We talked about this. She must have decided that I would be so fucking busy trying for a baby that I wouldn't pay attention to her bullshit."

You don’t know what to say to console him, so you just stand there and be the listening ear he needs right now. You reach out and gently rub his shoulder.

Dave closes his eyes and sighs, shaking his head. "It's obvious that the idea to have a baby with her is done." He admits. "I'm going to be getting a divorce."

“Oh,” you say, “That makes sense. I’ll contact my Mom in the morning and see if I can crash at hers for a while. Get out of your hair.”

"No." His hand reaches out and he grabs your. "No, don't- don't do that." He asks, opening his eyes and staring at you.

“I don’t want to get in your way, Dave,” you sigh, “Do you think you still want this? Going through a divorce and juggling a newborn as a single father. It’s a lot to think about.”

"You don't have to be in my way." Dave can't possibly think rationally right now but he knows one thing, he still wants you. "I wanted to fuck you last night." He admits. "I wanted to fuck you and not fucking jerk off and cum inside you."

“Fuck,” you say, “You wanted me?” You shake your head, knowing he’s just had news that’s turned his entire life upside down right now, and no matter how you feel for him, you can’t act on it. It would be taking advantage.

"I want you." He corrects.

“Dave,” you mumble, unsure what to do. Your heart says kiss him, let him take out his pain on your body by demanding it gives him pleasure, but your head says let him go to bed. Sleep on it.

"If you don't want to, walk away." He warns you after a second, his eyes turning darker. "Go downstairs and I won't follow you. But the smallest part of you does want to, go up to my bedroom."

After staring him down for a few minutes, feeling your arousal begin to drip down your thighs, your feet make the decision for you. Turning towards the stairs and taking each step carefully. Walking to the end of the hall and pushing open the door to the master bedroom.

It's wrong on so many levels and yet, Dave doesn't feel guilty. He looks down at his hand and contemplates for a moment before he reaches for his ring to slide it off his finger. Setting it down on the kitchen table, he turns around and walks out of the room and rushes towards the stairs.

You watch him as he strolls in the room, closing the door behind him and turning to look at you. “If you want this, Dave, if you really want to fuck me... Prove it. Undress me. Lay me down and show me just how much you want me, and if I'm satisfied I’ll let you fill up this little cunt.”

Dave hums, smirking slightly at the bossiness of your sudden change of attitude. "Is that how this is going to go?" He asks, raising a brow. "I have to prove it to you?"

“I’m not the one who’s leaving a multi-year marriage,” you say before perching on the edge of the bed and watching him.

"How do you want me to prove it to you?" He asks, starting to strip all of his clothes off. "I'm thinking about what I used to imagine when I was jerking off into that cup." He admits. "You sitting on my face. Smothering me in your pretty little pussy."

“That’s what you were thinking about yesterday or before?” You ask, wanting to confirm that he’s been wanting you for a while.

"Since the first week." He admits. "It's something I wanted to know. How you tasted. It was all I thought about while fisting my cock and spilling into a cup. Giving you my cum to insert into that cunt."

“Fuck, you wanna taste my pussy?” You mewl before standing back up, “Undress me and I’ll take a seat on that gorgeous face.”

Dave reaches for you, already nude and hard, his hands eager as he pulls your clothes off. Not caring if he stretches or rips something in his haste to strip you down.

Once you’re fully naked in front of him, you grab his hand and slowly drag it up the inside of thighs, letting him feel just how much you want him. “Since you said you wanted a repeat of last night, my pussy has been dripping for you. Soaked my panties within seconds and since then it’s been spreading down my thighs.”

"Do you know how good you felt?" Dave groans. "I felt bad about it, because I wanted to do it again. I wanted to cheat on Carol." He twists his fingers and slides them through your folds. "But now, now I'm just going to fuck you and not feel bad about it, I'm not married anymore. The rest is just legal bullshit."

“Fuck me then, York,” you challenge, “You knew from the second I first saw you that I wanted you.”

Instead of saying anything, Dave grabs you and pulls you down on the bed. Laying down and pulling you on top of him.

“You want me to ride that face or your cock? I’ve never sat on someone’s face before…”

"Face first." Dave groans. "Then my cock."

You hesitate for a moment, a little uncertain of how to make sure you don’t hurt him before you move up. Lowering yourself so you’re hovering just above his mouth.

He can tell you are hesitant and he reaches up to grab you hips and yank you down onto his mouth greedily like he is man starving and you are his last meal.

“Dave,” you yelp as he pulls you down onto his face. You reach out to hold on to the headboard as you patiently wait for him to start tasting you.

He chuckles and doesn't hesitate to slide his tongue through your folds, groaning at the tangy taste of your cunt and arousal. Gripping your hips tighter and making sure that you don't move away from his greedy mouth.

“Oh, Dave,” you whimper, as he starts to lap at your clit before moving down and pushing his tongue into your cunt. “Oh, fuck.”

He groans, spearing his tongue up into you while his nose presses against your clit. Rocking you back and forth to provide some friction.

“Dave,” you pant, over and over, as you start to rock your hips. The sensation is new, you’ve never really been with anyone who makes your pleasure a priority and he’s eating your pussy like a man starved.

Your taste, your moans has him aching as he gets exactly what he wants. Letting go of one of your hips, he reaches down and starts to wrap his fist around his cock. Groaning into your cunt like he is pained.

You rock your hips faster as you near your high, his mouth working magic on you. You throw your head back in pleasure and as you do you catch a glimpse of something moving, turning your head slightly you see him fisting his cock as he groans into your pussy. “Fuck, my pussy taste that good, baby? That you’ve got to fuck your own fist?”

He can't answer you because it means that he would have to pull his lips away from your cunt. Not willing to pull his tongue out of your warmth for a single second while you are dripping into his mouth. He groans, doubling down on his efforts to make you cum.

The only word you’re able to speak is his name, it falls out of your mouth over and over as he works you towards your high. Your thighs tighten around his head, as you start to cum. Hands gripping onto the headboard as you flood his face.

Dave hisses, his fist tight around his cock and squeezing so that he doesn't cum. Nearly ready to from the sweetness of your release and your cries.

“Fuck,” you murmur as you lift yourself off of his face, “Hi, baby.” You giggle as you look down at his soaked face.

"Hi." He smirks, a little pussy drunk and he lets go of his cock so he can stroke your hip.

“Can I kiss you?” You ask, as you run your hands through his hair, loving how blissed out he looks.

"Yes." He nods as he looks up at you. He's wanted to kiss you, and now there is nothing to stop him.

Wasting no time, the second he gives you permission you smash your lips against his. Not caring that they’re still damp with your arousal, you lick across his bottom lip as a silent plea for entry.

It's been years since Dave has kissed someone besides Carol. The pecks on the lips with the girls don't count. Years since he has kissed someone like he was going to devour them. And that is exactly what the kiss between the two of you turns into.

You moan freely into his mouth, letting him take the lead as he kisses you with an intensity that makes your heart flutter. Reaching down you grip his cock, giving it slow languid strokes.

"Fuck." Dave groans, twitching in your fist but he thinks of something and pulls away. "Do you- do you want me to wear a condom?" He asks breathlessly.

“Fuck no,” you say before pulling him back for another kiss.

He moans into your mouth, needing to be inside you now that there is nothing stopping him. "Ride me." He begs.

“Yes, sir,” you giggle, lining yourself up with him and slowly sinking down. Moaning from the stretch of him. “Fast or slow, baby?”

"Fuck." He groans. "You could just stay right there." He promises, watching you as you adjust to him in this new position.

“You just want me to keep your fat cock warm?”

You could, he wouldn't have any problem with you just sitting on his cock all night but he thinks you want more. "Later." He groans, pushing your hip with his hand, urging you to move. "Remember that I can't keep going if you make me cum too quickly."

“You can use your mouth and fingers though,” you say before grinding down on him, loving his filthy groans. “How often did you play with cock and think of me?” You ask as you rock your hips back and forth, nice and slowly.

"Every fucking time." Dave grunts, bracing his feet on the bed and starts to roll his hips up to meet yours. "Every fucking time I jerked off."

“Fuck,” you groan, before increasing your speed. “I think about you too,” you admit, “Those fucking shoulders. Imagined you putting my legs over them so you could fuck me deeper.”

Dave hisses, rocking his hips up harder. "Yeah?" He asks. "You knew how big my cock was before last night?"

“It’s honestly bigger than I was imagining,” you say before gasping, “And I was imagining a big cock.”

He grunts proudly, grabbing your hips and pulling you down to make sure he grinds deep into you. Wanting to make you feel every inch of him.

“You gonna make me cum on it,” you challenge as you snap your hips forward.

"Fuck yes." He hisses, gritting his teeth and snapping his hips up hard enough to make you bounce.

“Dave,” you gasp, as he forces the air out of your lungs, you bounce up and down on his length, grabbing one of his hands and placing it on your tit.

Dave palms you tit and squeezes it, grunting at how perfect it fits in his hand. Watching as you ride his cock like you had imagined and yet, it is so much better.

He fucks into that delicious spot with ease, making you almost delirious with pleasure. With a few more rolls of your hips, you find your walls fluttering around him, before clamping down, choking his cock and cumming hard.

Dave groans, wrapping his arms around you and he takes over. Feeling that you can’t move anymore and he starts thrusting up into you like his life depends on it.

“Fill me up,” you plead, grateful for the change in power right now. “Please, baby.”

"I will, fuck, I will." Dave groans out your name. Starting to chant it with every thrust of his hips. Until he finally pushes deep and starts to cum, filling you up just like you begged him to.

You love the way he overwhelms you, everyone of your senses are on fire in the most delicious way and it’s because of him. “Fuck,” you groan as he finishes filling you up, “So many nights of imagining this, and it was a million times better than I ever could have imagined.”

He nods, panting as he closes his eyes. "I- I shouldn't' have wanted it, but I did." He admits, holding you close. "It's so much fucking better than I ever thought of."

You giggle, loving the way he reacts to it. Still buried deep in your pussy, and groaning as your flutter and clamp down around him. “You wanna wake me up with your cock?” You ask before pressing a kiss to his lips.

“I can do that.” He doesn’t motion for you to get off him, and sighs softly. “I need to ask you a question though.”

“Should I be worried?” You ask, as you shuffle off of him. Sitting on the edge of the bed, instead of climbing in next to him.

“No?” He frowns, shaking his head and looking down at his hands before he starts talking. “Now that- now that Carol and I aren’t going to be staying together….if you wanted to stop this…surrogacy, I understand.” He tells you. “I know it’s not what you signed up for.”

“What do you want?” You ask, before running your hands through your hair. “I know how good of a dad you are, and despite what I said earlier, if anyone could juggle a newborn and all of this… it would be you. And I'd be here to help and breastfeed for as long as you need me.”

He blows out a small sigh and he shakes his head. “You don’t want what I’ve discovered I want.”

“What do you want?” You say, confusion evident on your face.

“I want to do this with…..with a partner, but you don’t want to be a parent and I don’t want you to feel like you have to.” He’s not saying things right and he shakes his head. “Just forget I said something. It’s not a good idea.”

“If you’re asking me to have a baby with you, you’re going to have to at least take me out to dinner first.” You say, before giggling and moving your face up to his, “Kiss me, idiot.”

He closes his eyes and shakes his head but he leans in to kiss you. “I don’t know when I started imagining raising the baby with you.” He confesses. Maybe it was all the time you spent together, but he hadn’t imagined you leaving after the baby was weaned.

“Can’t pretend my heart didn’t stutter when you said ‘our baby’ last night,” you admit, “But we have to be smart here. The girls. Carol. The fact we haven’t even been on a date yet… And honestly I could be pregnant right now… We need to sit and have a conversation out of this post sex haze.” You climb into bed next to him and lightly press a kiss to his lips, “Right now I know two things… 1. How badly I want you. 2. We have a lot to figure out.”

“We’ll figure them out.” Dave promises, wrapping his arms around you, “I want to figure them out.”

“Me too. You wanna be the little or big spoon, baby?” You ask before you pepper a kiss on his shoulder.

It’s been a hard day and he chuckles to himself. “Would you think less of me if I wanted to be the little spoon?”

“Not at all, baby.” Letting go of him, so he can shift around in your arms.

Dave turns over and sighs when you wrap your arms around him. Finding comfort in the fact that you care about him. Carol cheating on him is going to change everything in his and his girls life, but it might be for the better. He might get to have you.

“Goodnight, my love,” you mumble against his warm skin, placing a few kisses between his shoulder blades and wrapping your arms just a little tighter.

****

When Dave wakes up, he smiles as he feels your arm still around him. Apparently neither one of you moved during the night. He hums, shifting slowly as he turns to face you.

You wake up to Dave shifting in your arms, and you can’t help the smile that spreads across your face. One of his hands slowly rubs the bottoms of your back as you move a little closer to him, “Good morning, you sleep ok?” Your mumble sleepily.

“Never woke up.” Which for him was a miracle. He smiles, admiring the way that you are struggling to keep your eyes open. “You look beautiful first thing.”

“Flatterer. And good, I’m glad, I didn’t either. Slept like a baby.” You say as you press yourself up against him. Grinning when you feel how hard he is already.

"Good." You had said you wanted him to wake you up on his cock, but you managed to open your eyes before he could get into position. So now he leans in and kisses you while rolling you onto your back.

You let him mould your body as he pleases, his mouth refusing to leave yours as he climbs on top of you, his fingers snaking between your bodies and slowly circling your clit.

Instead of rush through things to push inside you, Dave decides to take it slow. He's got all morning, the girls won't be up for at least another hour and on Sundays they liked to watch cartoons before the designated brunch time.

“Feels so good,” you moan as he plays with your clit, his lips lightly ghosting your neck as you moan his name. “You want me to stroke your cock, baby?”

"No." He kisses along your neck and nuzzles your pulse, inhaling the scent of you. Warm and soft with sleep, arousal now mixing with it. "Gonna slide inside you of you soon enough."

“Sounds perfect,” you say quietly, loving how perfectly you fit together, “Keep the pace nice and slow.”

"Lazy lovin' Sunday." He hums, smiling against your skin.

“Sign me up for more,” you say with a soft laugh, “All of them.”

"Yeah?" He huffs quietly, rocking his hard cock against your mound slowly. "You want to do this every Sunday?"

“Baby, I want to do it everyday,” you say as his fingers rub a little harder, your orgasm just teetering over the edge.

“Don’t know if I could do it everyday.” He chuckles. “Getting old.”

“Doesn’t seem that way to me,” you choke out, as pleasure explodes behind your little bundle of nerves, cumming with a soft moan of his name, as he whispers soft praises in your ear.

When you come back down, Dave pulls his hand away so he can slide between your thigh. Pressing against you and slowly rocking his hips forward as he starts to sheath his cock in the tight walls of your pussy.

One of your hands gently holds onto the back of his head, while the other one grips onto his hip. The heft of him a glorious stretch, as he pushes himself in, taking his time and giving you a moment to adjust once he’s filled you to the hilt. “Could stay like this forever.”

"Have to eventually eat." He teases, nudging his nose against yours and then kissing your lips.

“You’re gorgeous, did you know?” You say after he softly kisses your lips.

"Distracting me." He hums, kissing you again. "You are the gorgeous one." He murmurs quietly, starting to slowly move. "You were going to sacrifice your body, your womb to give me a baby."

“Oh, you feel so good,” you whine as he starts a slow but delicious rhythm, notching against paradise. “How could I say no to those big brown eyes?”

"Ask everyone who turned me down." He hums, flashing you a small smile and trying not to let Carol's betrayal affect him, affect this. He shouldn't have fallen in love with you, but he did and he's not going to apologize for it.

“Their loss is my gain,” you say, “But no one else but me and you exist right now.” You whisper into his ear.

"No one else." It might be ironic, promising fidelity when he is technically cheating on his wife, but he feels single. Or at least his emotional attachment to Carol severed the moment he learned about her affair.

“Make love to me,” you whisper softly into his ear, “Please.”

It's soft, sweet. Dave takes his time and doesn't try to push anything but the softest sounds out of you. Each slow thrust accompanies a kiss and some praise.

Your hands trail the expanse of his shoulders, dipping down his back and finding home on his hips, you can feel that delicious pressure building but you don’t want to let go just yet, needing desperately to fall off that ledge at the same time.

"Baby." Dave groans quietly in your ear. "Need you to cum for me."

“Call me baby, again,” you say, before clamping down around him, “Cum with me.”

"Baby." He grunts, pushing his hips a little harder. "Baby." He feels his body tensing. "Baby." He chokes out before he buries himself deep and pours himself into you.

You clamp down around him hard. Cumming with the softest, sweetest whimper of his name. Your arms wrap around him as he groans your name once more, before dropping down and capturing your lips in a bruising kiss.

He pulls away only when he finally needs to take a breath, humming softly as he reaches up and caresses your cheek.

“You know I’m going to expect you to exclusively call me baby now I know how good it sounds?” You laugh as you push his hair back out of his face.

He chuckles and nods. "Figured."

“Sorry to darken the mood, but she’s probably going to be home today,” you sigh, “With work tomorrow. You want to spend a few nights downstairs with me until it’s all figured out?”

Dave sighs and he hates to acknowledge that but he nods. "Yeah." He leans down and kisses you again. "Just until I can get her ass served with divorce papers."

“At least we can be loud down there,” you say as you nuzzle your nose against his, “That’s if you’re not ‘too old’ to go again later.”

He snorts and shakes his head. "Might be." He jokes, nudging his nose against yours. "But you need to shower." He smirks at you playfully. "You smell like sex."

“So do you.” Kissing his lips once more you gently push him off you and climb out of bed, “Wanna join me?”

"I shouldn't." He admits, sitting down on the bed. "Just in case she comes home or the girls wake up."

“Guess it’ll just be me and my imagination then,” you say with a fake huff, “I’ll see you after, we can make the girls breakfast again.”

"Hey." Dave calls out and smirks at you when you turn to look at him. "I love you."

“I love you too.” You say, before slipping downstairs to shower.

****

The morning goes by in a blurred frenzy, Molly tells you that she needs 36 cupcakes to take to school with her tomorrow, and with Carol not back it’s down to you to bake them.

It’s only once you’ve finished frosting the final cake that you hear her car pull up onto the drive and Dave flashes an annoyed glance in your direction.

"Girls, why don't you go upstairs and play?" Dave suggests, ignoring the way they whine and try to stall, but he breathes a sigh of relief when they disappear to go upstairs. He turns towards you and watches you carefully. "Do you want to go downstairs?"

“Do you want me to? I can go if you want or stay and support you. Either way is fine.”

"I'm not going to confront her about everything." He tells you. "But I don't want you to face her wrath if she gets pissy."

“I can take it, but if you want me to go, I’ll go, baby.” You say before reaching out and caressing his cheek, sighing at the sound of her key turning in the door. Peppering the quickest of kisses on his lips.

He should send you away, but he doesn't. Realizing how much you care about him because you are willing to face whatever mood Carol is in just to stand beside him. He looks at you softly before his eyes harden as the door opens and Carol calls out. "In the kitchen." He calls back, voice flat.

“You’ve got this,” you whisper before briefly squeezing his hand. You both say nothing as she waltzes back in the house, tossing her car keys down on the counter and immediately going to the refrigerator and getting herself a bottle of water.

"Where have you been?" Dave asks quietly, sitting at the table watching as she twists the cap off the bottle and guzzles down half of it.

She giggles before slamming the bottle down, “Oh, Dave, you won’t believe it,” she says with a roll of her eyes and a huge grin splashed across her face, “Me, Maria and Tanya had one too many and ended up in Atlantic City! Of course I didn’t have my charger so I couldn’t contact you, but it was so great! Exactly what Maria needed.”

"Is it?" At least Maria hadn't lied when she told Dave that she wouldn't breathe a word of their conversation to Carol. She had been horribly apologetic, nearly tearful when she realized her sister had lied to her. "Is she feeling better now, then?" He asks.

“So much better,” she says before finishing the rest of her water, “I can’t believe we ended up there… The AmTrak really shouldn’t run at that time of night. Anyway I should shower…” She turns to look at you, “Could you have lunch ready when I get back downstairs? I’m starved.”

"She is not the maid." Dave reminds his wife. "Fix your own damn food."

“Excuse me?” Carol says, raising her eyebrow, “She lives here rent free, she can fix me a damn sandwich. What is your problem, David?”

"My problem is that you were supposed to be home two days ago, Carol." Dave doesn't raise his voice, he doesn't shout or throw anything. "You didn't call, you didn't give a fucking shit if your husband or your children knew if you were okay. You waltz back in and ask our surrogate to fix you a fucking sandwich."

“I told you I couldn’t call. Maria needed me, Dave. This is my home, she’s living here for free in exchange for me pumping her full of your cum. A sandwich won’t kill her.”

"Don't say it like that." Dave huffs. "You agreed that that was what you wanted. Have you changed your mind?"

She rolls her eyes dramatically, and she shakes her head. “No honey, you could just be a little more accommodating when it comes to the needs of my family.”

"Go take your damn shower." Dave tells her. "I'll fix you a fucking sandwich."

“No, she will fix me a sandwich. I need you to pack me an overnight bag, Maria wants us to go to the spa tonight. Last minute deal on groupon.”

“Carol.” Dave frowns at his wife and shakes his head. “It’s Sunday. I have work tomorrow. I’m not going to a spa.”

“Oh, honey,” she says with a laugh, “I meant me and Maria. Not ‘us’.”

Dave’s hands are on his hips and he contemplates just packing her a bag and letting her go. Taking the easy way out but he shakes his head. “Sure, Carol. Whatever you say.”

“Dave,” you say, as he lets her walk over him, “You deserve better than this.”

“Excuse me?” She scoffs at you, as you continue to focus on him. “Who the hell do you think you are?”

“I talked to Maria yesterday.” Dave announces, staring at Carol.

“What?” She splutters, “When?”

“Don’t worry about when.” He huffs and grits his teeth. “Where were you really?”

She sighs and walks over to Dave, wrapping her arms around his neck and pouting, “I just needed a few days to myself, baby, this whole surrogacy thing is so stressful. I’m sorry.”

He pulls away from her, knocking her arms from around his neck, “you owe me at least the fucking truth, Carol.” He hisses. “Be honest. For fucking once.”

“Leave,” she hisses at you, “You’re the reason I felt like I needed to escape my family for a few days.”

“Oh, that wasn’t Robert that made you feel the need to leave?” Dave sneers.

“What exactly did Maria tell you?” She says, clearly relenting and sitting on the stool behind her. “Make her leave and we can talk honey, we don’t need her meddling in our business.”

“She can stay.” Dave shakes his head and scoffs. “Maria told me enough, don’t worry.” He promises her. “My lawyer’s already been called.”

“Saline.” She says with a smirk, “You were right. I didn’t want another baby, but I knew you were adamant you wanted us to try surrogacy.” She turns to look at you and laughs, “Looks like he has no use for you anymore either, no chance you’re knocked up with salt water.”

He nods, furious but at least he knows why it didn't seem like the inseminations were working. "How long have you been fucking this guy Robert, Carol?" He asks, holding up his hand when you start to speak.

“Doesn’t matter,” she shrugs, “He ended it last night. The spa trip was a cover up to go and get some of my stuff I left at his.” She admits, no point in lying anymore.

"How fucking long?" Dave demands, his voice hardening slightly and his eyes dark.

“Just over a year,” she scoffs, “Does it matter? Do we really need to be having this conversation in front of her? She should have started packing her bags the second I told you both about the saline.”

"No, but you can pack your bags." Dave tells her, crossing his arms over his chest. "Get out of my house, Carol. We are done."

“No, we are not,” she shrugs, “We can find another surrogate and try again. We will have the baby and move on together.”

“No,” you say, courage coursing through your veins, “He will have a baby, but it will be with me. And I’ll spend the rest of my life doing the one thing you were too stupid to do, and I’ll show him how appreciated and loved he is.”

Dave lifts a brow at your impassioned speech and smirks at the way Carol's jaw drops in surprise. "I've already given my lawyer the evidence, Carol." He tells her. "Just like I'm going to forward this video of you confessing to adultery to him."

She ignores Dave and instead sneers at you, “You’ll get bored of him. Just like I did. I’d run if I was you, get out of here as quickly as you can.”

“I’m good,” you say before reaching out and grabbing his hand, “Fell in love with him that very first day in the cafe. Fell even harder watching how incredible a father he is, fell some more when he made love to me this morning. Will continue to fall harder and harder for the rest of my life.”

"Get out, Carol." Dave tells her quietly, squeezing your hand and looking over at you with soft love in his eyes. "I'll tell the girls you will be there to see them this weekend, but I want you to go. You made your choice, so I've made mine." His choice is you. You and his girls and whatever kids you might have together.

“I’ll be back tomorrow,” she scoffs before grabbing her keys, “And i’ll be ready for you to apologize, so we can move on from this. Make sure that little slut is out of our basement before I get back.”

He sighs and shakes his head, watching her walk away and doesn't flinch when the door slams behind her. "Gonna have to change the fucking locks." He sighs before he looks over at you and grins. "You heard her. You need to be out of the basement by tomorrow."

“I heard her loud and clear, baby,” you say before pulling him in for a heated kiss, “I’m just thinking about how you’re planning on fucking this little slut tonight.”

"Might be too tired from moving all your stuff into the master bedroom." He smirks, wrapping his arms around you. "Unless you're still ovulating."

“Oh I think moving can wait until the morning,” you smirk, “Save that energy ‘old man’, Daddy is going to be railing the fuck out of this little pussy tonight.”

“Sounds good to me baby.” Dave smirks and pulls you close. “Tonight we’re going to make our baby.” He promises.

“Keep calling me, baby, and we can make our baby right here and right now.” You tease, before kissing him hard and slow. “I was telling the truth by the way, fell in love with you the second I saw those big gorgeous brown eyes.”

He hums, knowing that you mean it. His hand slides down and he cups your ass. "I started falling in love with you while you've been living here." He admits, knowing you will understand that. "But I think that it's fair enough to say that I am completely in love with you, baby."

“Good,” you say before scrunching up your nose and nuzzling it against his, “Guess now I can tell you about the sex dream I keep having.”

"Tell me all about it." Dave pulls you close and closes his eyes. He's still hurt about Carol's betrayal, about her tearing their family apart. But he also has to thank her for it. If she hadn't been unfaithful, he wouldn't have met you, he wouldn't have fallen in love with you and he wouldn't be planning on creating a life with you.

“Keep dreaming about slowly riding your cock, your lips wrapped around one of my nipples, tasting the milk I make for our baby. Listening to you telling me how sweet it is. How sweet I am. Before tasting more.”

“That sounds more like a prediction than a dream.” Dave murmurs. He had already thought about watching you breastfeed and seeing your tits full of milk, and how he won’t have to deny those thoughts. “Let’s see if we can’t make dreams come true.”

“I would love to. I love you, Dave York.”

****

[SIX MONTHS LATER]

You groan at the clock next to you, reading 4:23AM. Your pregnancy cravings refuse to let up, but your aching and swollen feet makes it too difficult to get up and out of bed.

You don’t want to wake him, he’s been so supportive, so wonderful and spends a good forty minutes every evening luring you to sleep with his tongue. Knowing it’s the only thing that relaxes you enough to sleep. But you had made the decision to attempt to ignore your craving after dinner and it’s come back to bite you in the ass. You groan again as you think about the rocky road in the freezer, calling your name.

Wordlessly, he sits up and presses a kiss to your forehead and before you can apologize for waking him, he’s shushing you and getting out of bed.

A few minutes later he returns with a pint of ice cream, two spoons and two gatorades.

“What did I do to deserve you?” You say softly, feeling tears spring up in your eyes and immediately start to stream down your cheeks. Pregnancy hormones make you a lot weepier than usual.

"You answered an ad." He teases, setting down the gatorades and reaching up to wipe away your tears. "I knew you were going to want ice cream." He teases, leaning in and kisses your lips softly. He motions to the ice cream. "Go ahead and have your ice cream baby, I'm going to talk to him."

“God, I love you,” you say, ripping the cover of the ice cream and digging in. Watching as he gently rests his head on your tummy and starts to talk to your unborn son. The immediate kicking as soon as he hears his Daddy’s voice makes you both smile. Answering that ad had been the best decision you had ever made, you reach down and caress his face after finishing up the ice cream. “I love you so much. Love our girls. Love our boy. I love you, Dave.”

"Love you too, baby." He promises, kissing your ice cream flavored lips with a smile. "Thank you for our son, thank you for loving me and the girls." There's a ring on your finger, not quite yet a wedding ring since you want to wait until after the baby is born, but the divorce was finalized last month and he can't wait to make you Mrs. Dave York. "Love you so much."

“Me too, baby. I love you.”

#pedro pascal #dave york #dave york x reader #dave york x you #dave york x f!reader #dave york smut #dave york fanfiction #dave york equalizer 2 #dave york imagine

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bidisasterevankinard · 9 months

Note

Platonic baby making? Is this your Buck mpreg fic?

One of two yes! (Other one is 5b au I could tell more if you would like too)

This fic has a title!!!! "Sometimes it takes a baby"

Basically after delivered Kameron's baby Buck is happy he helped, but he wants to be parent and he's tired to wait for parner. So he looks for donors, but he wants parner to raise a baby, not anonymous donor. And as he and Eddie established they are co-parenting Chris, he goes to his bestie. Eddie agrees and they start some test to make sure everything is ok, then they are ofc make baby (completely platonic sex cause it's just more convenient), then they have positive test and their live changes. Eventually they ofc have to face that it's not platonic at all

I actually have a plot kind of done, just can't sit and write

Old snippet

And thing I wrote yesterday:

It’s a long and heavy emotional, and just really overwhelming month for Buck. First week after Kameron gave birth to her baby he spent time researching: everything about pregnancy he should know, how already he should prepare his body, best clinics to find a donor and prices and how many attempts are needed on average. Everything to make a plan.

Then he went to the clinic to take tests and make sure he was completely healthy to get pregnant. All tests have shown that he is more than healthy and ready for this.

So he moved on to the third and probably the most difficult stage: choosing a donor.

For two weeks, Buck spends the last two weeks constantly selecting the best candidate, each time some even small detail forces him to move on to the next and the next and the next.

He knows that he behaves strangely at work, refuses to meet friends outside of work, and even refused dinner with his boys yesterday in order to come home and spend hours flipping through possible candidates again, feeling like they always lack something.

The eyes are not brown, or the wrong shade of brown, the hair is too dark or light, there is no beauty spot under the eye, but the most important thing that stops Buck is he absolutely doesn’t know these people.

The anonymity of the donation, the fact that his child will never know their second father, he does not like it. He never knew the true love of both parents until he met Bobby and then Athena, and the feeling that envelops his heart every time he sees their care cannot compete with many things.

He wants to know the person from whom he will give birth to a child, but most importantly, he wants his baby to be loved by them. He wants to raise the baby with a partner he trusts. So after closing the next donor file from the clinic, Buck takes his folder with his medical documents, papers from the clinic, his plan of what he will do until he can't work and goes to the person with whom he wants to have a child.

Even if it would be just platonic, Buck wants to be pregnant and raise a child with Eddie. So he’s going to try to do it. Starting with a conversation with Eddie.

#my wips #mpreg Buck #fic: sometimes it takes a baby

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badfanfix · 11 months

Text

There’s no title, have a Diamond Clan fic.

Lord Electrode’s wardens did not always last long.

There was a risk to being a warden, to caring for a semi-feral Pokemon—divinely blessed or not—that could easily decide it disliked something and poison, maul, trample, or drown you for the slight. But Lord Electrode was always considered on a level of his own. The electrical surges when it was happy, the literal explosions when it was annoyed, even the fact that it could lose its balance and go careening down the mountainside near Moonview Arena—most of the clans rarely even saw the Lord of the Hollow, and most were perfectly fine with that. Plenty of young brash wardens had died in the Lord’s service, and even ones who lived to see their hair turn gray met painful ends due to a simple careless error leading to a blast.

When Melli was augured as the new warden, most did not expect him to last the season. He was too quiet, said the elders, too shy and always hiding behind Adaman or Mei. He was too timid, said the old women. Lord Electrode would lose patience with him and blow him away. The procession that delivered him up the mountain was more akin to a funeral than a celebration like it might have been for Lady Liligant or Lord Wyrdeer. Melli cried half the way there. But when they finally reached the Arena, he dried his face and stubbornly refused to let anyone walk in with him. “If Adaman is gonna be the new clan leader, I’m going to make sure Lord Electrode will bless him.”

For weeks no one heard anything from the mountain. A few tried to contact Lady Sneasler’s warden, but the old woman had not been up to the cold summit where Lord Electrode resided. Adaman begged Mai to take him to the peak on Wyrdeer, but his sister refused. “A Noble and their warden sometimes take time to bond.” She ruffled his hair, making Adaman grumble. “We cannot interrupt that.”

The snows came, burying Hisui in deep cold. The mountain paths became treacherous, and news of the death of Lady Sneasler’s warden came from Lord Braviary. But no word on Lord Electrode, nor Melli. Adaman spent all winter pacing the edge of the camp, his newly evolved Leafeon dogging his steps in spite of the sleet. The mountain loomed in the distance, a mere shadow amid the foul weather. Sometimes Adaman wondered if the mountain knew he was waiting impatiently, and deliberately refused to thaw. He couldn’t stand waiting.

But spring did come at last, the marshes turning into a lake full of run-off from Coronet’s peak. Adaman spent every moment he wasn’t in lessons running as far up the slopes as he could before the sun began to set, forcing him to turn back. Leafeon would race alongside him, bouncing to keep up with his lengthening stride. But no one came to greet them. No one came from the Moonview Arena to join the ceremony to find a replacement for Lady Sneasler’s warden. She rejected all of the prospective candidates, something the elders and old women muttered about under their breath when they thought Adaman wasn’t listening. Mai spent more time assisting in caring for the wardenless noble—as the oldest of the Diamond wardens she was often kept busy representing the clan. Adaman wondered what he would find when he could finally reach the peak where Lord Electrode resided. He didn’t like to think about it too hard.

The summer solstice arrived, and the elders agreed it was time for Adaman to attempt to contact Almighty Sinnoh, to confirm himself as the clan’s leader. Adaman agreed—not that he had much choice—but relishing the idea that Mai would have to return to take him up the mountain. It had been a lonely spring. He wasn’t allowed to bring Leafeon, but as Mei guided Lord Wyrdeer closer and closer to the peak, it was all he could do to sit still.

“D’ya think Melli will come?”

“You should be focusing on listening for Almighty Sinnoh.” Mai looked grim. “Adaman, it’s been… a while. Melli might not be… he might not be able to come with Lord Electrode.” Adaman shrunk. The adults had said that a lot lately. Mai saw his frown and tried to smile. “Besides, this is your big day. You’ll hear Almighty Sinnoh and be confirmed as the leader of the Diamond Clan, and then have a huge feast, isn’t that right?”

“That’s what they tell me. They’ve been cooking all day for it!” Adaman bounced in the saddle, making Wyrdeer huff. “Are we nearly there? I can’t wait much longer! We don’t want to waste Almighty Sinnoh’s time!”

Mai laughed. “The temple should come into view soon. Look.” She gestured skyward. Lord Braviary was circling overhead, his long feathers gleaming in the sunlight. Like Lady Sneasler, he had rejected the last attempt to find a warden. Still, the noble Lord of the Skies had been keeping a close eye on the Diamond clan of late. Some said he sensed his future warden. Others said he was merely blessing the clan for its fidelity to Almighty Sinnoh. His presence was surely a good sign.

“Warden Mai!” Adaman nearly bounced out of his seat to greet the other two waiting figures. Iscan, who was only a year older than Adaman, was making sure his noble was settled into the ceremonial pond at the edge of the temple. Lady Lilligant, accompanied by Arezu, stood at the top of the steps, twirling idly as they awaited Wyrdeer’s arrival. Melli was nowhere in sight. Adaman had to hide his disappointment.

“Lord Basculegion seems to be in good health.” Mai pulled Wyrdeer to a stop as Iscan helped Adaman down. The large fish splashed the cold water at them all, seeming to indicate it was not comfortable and would prefer they skip the pleasantries. “I trust the trip was not too strenuous?”

“There were, uh… a lot of times I think we swam straight up.” Iscan rubbed his head. “Of course, Lord Basculegion did all the work. I just had to not fall off.” Basculegion splashed again, indicating Iscan had definitely fallen more than once.

“Did you see Lord Electrode on your way up?” Adaman has been in a rush to arrive, but now that they were there, the cold stone pillars made him anxious.

“N-no. We didn’t come that way.”

“I didn’t see him either.” Arezu joined the group. “But Lady Lilligant was in a hurry, so I hardly had time to stop at Moonview Arena.”

“Surely Lord Electrode would come, even if—“ Iscan trailed off. Adaman felt a rush of annoyance.

“Almighty Sinnoh doesn’t like people who waste time. If Mel—if Lord Electrode is late, we will just have to start without him.” He stomped up the temple steps, stopping only to bow hastily to Lady Lilligant.

“Do you think that’s the best idea? All the Nobles traditionally have to bless you before—“

“It’ll be fine, Mai.” Adaman clenched his fist. If M—if Lord Electrode didn’t want to come, if they couldn’t come… it would be fine.

Adaman reached the top of the stairs, looking at the long line of statues leading to the altar. The Nobles, the Pokémon that had followed Almighty Sinnoh… of course, half of their descendants watched over the Pearl Clan now. Adaman wondered if they fell away from the truth about Sinnoh, or perhaps they watched the Pearl Clan in hopes they would one day see the light and give up their false god. Either way, as the descendants of each Noble took their place beside the likeness of their ancestor, it was hard to not feel a sense of awe.

First Lady Lilligant approached, twirling around him with dancer-like grace before laying her leaves on his head. The blessing didn’t feel all that magical. Nothing changed. But she curtsied deeply before stepping back, a show of respect uncommon from a Noble like herself. He saw Arezu behind her give a thumbs-up. Next was Lord Braviary. He leaned down, plucking a feather from his chest and holding it out to Adaman. Adaman wasn’t sure what to do with the feather, so he tucked it into his hair. Braviary chirred in an approving manner, preening a few of his bangs before fluttering back.

Lord Basculegion watched him approach warily, smoky fins swirling a deep crimson. Iscan bit his lip, looking between the two of them. Adaman bowed, waiting for the Noble fish to decide. After a moment, Basculegion bellowed, launching himself upward in a graceful arc, then lurching and twisting backwards at the height of his leap, crashing into the pond with a splash that soaked Adaman and Iscan both. Adaman blinked a few times, but Basculegion nudged him onwards, toward the empty space where Lord Electrode should have been. Adaman wiped at his face, hurrying past the empty plinth to Lord Wyrdeer. The deer leaned forward, staring into Adaman’s eyes.

For a moment he felt very small, like a Wumple beneath the eyes of a hungry Staraptor. Wyrdeer’s gaze was deep, knowing. Adaman had known Wyrdeer most of his life, but he had never been so deeply scrutinized by the Pokémon. He braced his shoulders, not wanting to back down, but Wyrdeer’s eyes did not waver. He leaned closer, so close Adaman could feel his hot breath on his face.

Then he licked him.

Adaman yelped in surprise as the wardens and other Nobles stifled a laugh. He could hear Basculegion splashing about as it chuckled, making him go beet red. He quickly bowed to thank Lord Wyrdeer for his blessing, such as it was, then turned to face the dais. As he did his eyes passed over the empty space by the statue of the first Electrode, but he ignored it and pressed forward. If Almighty Sinnoh would accept him, he would know soon enough. He stepped onto the altar, stomach in a knot. Would the moment of truth be as understated as the Noble’s blessings? Would anything even ha—

There was a burst of light, and the altar was soaked in a golden glow.

Adaman could feel the power, making the hairs on his arms stand up. It was bright, almost too bright to look at. He stood, staring upward, watching the light dance through the air. “Almighty Sinnoh..?”

Faintly, he heard someone call his name.

“I hear him! I hear Almighty Sinnoh!” Adaman whooped with excitement, his nerves falling away. It had worked! The voice called him his name, so right and so familiar it felt like he had heard it his whole life. He was the leader the Diamond Clan needed, he would help deal with the Pearl Clan, the nobles, protect Hisui, protect his people—

“Wait, no, come back!”

Adaman looked down just in time to see Lord Electrode roll smack into him, knocking him down and delivering a faint electric shock. The feather in his hair sizzled and turned to ash as the water on his skin buzzed. For a second his muscles spasmed, but the current dissipated, the light fading away as a purple haired figure peeked over the top of Lord Electrode.

“Melli?!” He heard Mai’s feet as she raced to help him up. “You’re ok!”

“Of course I am!” Melli stuck out his lip. “The Great Melli merely wished to demonstrate how a proper blessing should be given!”

They all stared at him.

“We thought you were de—not coming.” Iscan tugged at his collar.

“And how was that a proper blessing?” Arezu put her hands on her hips. “Lord Electrode nearly steamrolled Adaman!”

“Lord Electrode was greeting the new leader of the Diamond Clan!” Melli scowled. “And his blessing was far better than getting splashed or licked! We worked on it for weeks!”

“Why didn’t you come out sooner?” Mai seemed satisfied Adaman wasn’t dead.

“The Great Melli wanted to make an entrance! To make this ceremony exciting!”

Adaman stared. “Why are you calling yourself that..?”

“Because Lord Electrode deserves the best warden, and I have accepted that is what I must be!” He laid a hand on his chest. Adaman noticed he had embroidered a line of Voltorb along the edge of his tunic. “I am no longer sad little Melli, now I am the Great Melli! Warden of the Lord of the Hollow and first to greet the new Diamond Clan leader! And if Lord Electrode had not slipped and rolled away, our blessing would have made the rest of you cry!”

The others began to argue, insisting their Noble’s blessing had been fine. The ceremony was clearly concluded. Adaman could hear Arezu saying that Melli was being annoying, Mai chiding that he should have warned them—

None of them noticed Adaman as he sadly scooped up the remains of Braviary’s feather. He was glad Melli wasn’t dead. He was. But the voice that had called him, the voice he thought had been Almighty Sinnoh… he realized now why he had thought it had sounded so familiar.

It had been Melli.

#pokémon legends arceus #pla melli #you may be thinking “Fix do you like Melli?#the answer is no #he’s awful #but all the tidbits of lore in the game lined up in a cough syrup induced haze #and I stayed up writing this #ironically making myself literally sicker #I see this grimy little creature and I’m like hm I must study him #pla adaman #PLA Mai #PLA Iscan #lord electrode #diamond clan #this was gonna be for Dad!Melli AU but it didn’t end up that way

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letstalkaboutfandomsbaby · 2 years

Text

Nanami Kento (Highlighted Posts)

Updated 12/24/21

Asks:

"Ma'am, Nanami Kento just fucking infatuated with chubby/fat reader, pls 🤲🏼" x

"Big Dick Men silent af..........Kento Nanami is just the perfect candidate for this 👀" x

"okay "nanami was probably such a tsundere as a teen" LIKE YES HE WAS" x

"lol nanami reverse parking while his hands are behind your seat even when there's a perfectly fine rear view camera in his car" x

"i think nanami is the kind of person who would make you a playlist but wouldn't share it with you but rather he would play it while the two of you are in the car and would ask you if you like the songs or not." x

"Not the NSFW you're looking for but here's one bc I just spent 9 hours working on a work project on a Sunday 🥲🥲🥲🥲" x

"Gonna say Nanami likes sleepy sleepy sex after a long day of work" x

"babes…. i’m gonna need u to elaborate on chubbychaser! voyeur!nanami…. like PLEASEEEE" x

"what would happen if gojo DRAGGED nanami to a stripclub?" x

"i LOVE ur nanami x chubby reader contenttt ahhh i don't know if you take requests but por favor grace us with some more of your nanami x chubby reader content 🥺🥺" x

"you dear woman of taste, how you think drunk!nanami is?" x

"Nanami would jerk off thinking about his crush to then have a mental breakdown on how ashamed he feels doing that and proceeds to do it again the next day" x

"ok you cannot tell me Nanami isn't a possessive mf" x

"Asshole" x

"Nanami wanting chubby reader to sit on his face" x

"Pussy Drunk Nanami!!!" x

"My take is that Nanami prefers missionary vanilla sex" x

"Nothing wrong w hcs that hes rough ofc but just want to see more soft nanami." x

"Head empty just Nanami interrupting your talk by sealing your lips with his." x

"nanami with an insatiable reader would just be a mess" x

"Lesse lesse let’s go with Nanami’s home life and upbringing if that tickles your fancy" x

"Thoughts about yandere nanami and chubby reader? 🥰🥰" x

"hi so you know the nanami headcanons with him being a momma boy and his upbringing, well what would happen if you know…him bringing chubby reader to meet them and his family loves her. all fluff up here" x

"Can we talk about how Nanami would be obsessed with getting married with you" x

"do you think nanami would be the kind of husband that's like "wait i think i left something" before going to work and proceeds to crash his lips on his wife's" x

"if ur chubby requests are still open, could i ask for a chubby reader x nanami drabble where reader gets a little insecure because of namami’s obsession with watching her face while she cums, so nanami counters by making her cum until she’s too fucked out to care??" x

"A Meal Fit for a King" x

"Pretty please could you make a fic about AU where Nanami simps for reader, he reads fanfiction and jerks off to smut, he just wishes reader was real" x

"currently having the feminine urge for nanami to fold me into a mating press and stuffing me w his babies" x

Drabbles:

"Nanami isn’t a possessive person per say; he just likes doing things that let people know you’re together." x

"Thinking about Nanami having a rough day and coming home" x

"Nanami Kento isn't one for grand gestures to declare a person's love." x

"Tsundere Teen Nanami x Chubby Reader" x

"Ok but im imagining Nanami (who gets joy from taking care of his partner and letting them use his money however they pls) and me (somone who feels immense guilt when anyone spends even $10 on me)" x

"Nanami is surprisingly incredible at giving massages" x

"Thoughts on Nanami wanting to take care of his s/o" x

"Oh to be the cute chubby camgirl that Nanami watches every week 💕" x

"blowjob" x

Fics:

"a wonderful way to decompress" x

"let me take care of you" x

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shayewrites · 2 years

Text

Take a Chance

pairing: reiner braun x fem!reader

content warnings: spoilers for AOT season 2/3 (not sure if i should mark that or not...), reiner has something close to a panic attack, reverse comfort

a/n: this was actually a former plot for The Red in My Ledger that i’ve retconned. hope you enjoy this stand alone fic! also THIS PICTURE OMFG. i’m down bad. down bad for this man.

masterlist. navigation.

“Dr. Jaeger, I can take over here. There’s a new batch of patients outside who need to be seen, no use in wasting time here when I can do it,” you walked to the senior doctor, more than willing to help the wounded warrior that had come in fresh from the western front.

Dr. Jaeger looked back at you with a wrinkly smile that was quick to reveal he was up to something, “Ms. l/n, I’m perfectly fine right where I’m at. However, I do believe there’s some place you need to be soon.”

Confused, you couldn’t help but ask him to clarify his vague statement, “Doctor?”

He pulled out a folded letter out of his coat pocket, holding it out for you, “Here, this came in last night, marked as extremely urgent. I should have given it to you sooner, but I wasn’t sure you’d come into work at all if you had read it first. For that I do apologize, but because you’ve helped this old man so much today, you go ahead and take the day off. I’m sure you’ll need it.” A letter? You knew you were up to date on paperwork, the only thing you were waiting to finish up was your shift here at the hospital and the field nurse application that had returned to you denied just a few days ago. However, you were sure to have kept it hidden from your coworkers, not wanting to hear their pitiful sympathies attempt to comfort you. Surely Marleyan government hadn’t changed their minds so quickly.

You hesitated for just a moment, unsure if you even wanted to take the letter, but once you noticed the familiar name on the sender label, you were quick to snatch it up, “Yes, sir.”

You walked out into the hallway and immediately opened the letter, glancing at the name signed on the bottom. There was no way, you told yourself, but the handwriting didn’t lie. You raced out the doors of the hospital, desperate to locate the letter’s sender. Reiner Braun.

…

Reiner laid on his back, staring up at the beige ceiling while Proco wrote out a report, and Peick laid on the neighboring bed, likely exhausted from a few long months in her titan form. He had been mulling over the letter he had sent you almost two days ago. Had it gotten to you? Would you even read it? Had you moved out of the internment zone? While still lost in his thoughts, he accidentally voiced one of his concerns aloud, “Do you think she got the letter?”

Porco lowered his pen, offering no comfort other than a mocking chuckle and a few words of ‘encouragement’, “I wouldn’t be surprised if she threw it out after all this time. It’s been nine years, and for all she knows, you abandoned her.”

Peick, while nearly passed out atop the bed, was quick to counter Porco’s cruel words and to reassure Reiner, “Porco, she was one of us, you know. It’s not like she’d simply forget any of us like that. Reiner, I’m sure she’ll reply within a day or two. She took up a position as a nurse under Dr. Jaeger, so I’m sure she’s got her hands full.”

“Yeah, I bet,” he said, somewhat unconvinced. Porco was right, he had left you behind. He couldn’t exactly blame you though, now could he?

…

“I’m here to see Reiner Braun. B-R-A-” You waited at the security office right outside the compound of the Internment zone.

The soldier cut you off, clearly annoyed with your sweaty figure after you ran all the way here, just to see him, “Ma’am, I can spell. However, as you are no longer a Warrior candidate, I’m afraid I cannot let you inside without the authority of the-”

He was cut off by a familiar voice, “Let her in.”

The soldier nearly leaped out of his seat at the sound of the officer behind him, “Commander Magath! Sir, I-”

He overlooked the poor soldier, addressing you as if you were an old friend, an old acquaintance, “l/n. It’s good to see you again. Walk with me, will you?”

“Yes, sir,” you replied curtly. If you were honest, you were less than pleased to see him after all these years, but being a former Warrior candidate yourself, you knew better than to lose all sense of respect in front of him. You found yourself standing straighter, falling in line with his steps, and looking straight ahead at all times, just like you had practiced for years.

If he noticed your change in demeanor, he didn’t acknowledge it, rather cutting straight to the point, “Now, I’m sure you’re here to see Reiner after his return. Am I correct?”

“Yes, sir.”

He hummed, almost sounding pleased with your response, which immediately caught you off guard, “Hmm, I’m sure you are aware of where he’s been for the past nine years?”

Once again you replied shortly, not one for many words in front of authority, “Yes, Paradis Island.”

He stopped walking, stopping in front of the tree where you and your comrades had met up by after training in order to walk home together, “So you should note that he is likely to be under great duress. Those devils truly put him through hell, but he was still able to walk free. I won’t stop you from seeing him, but I do expect you to report to me afterwards, should he open up about anything that happened to him while on the island. Am I clear?”

You were immediately taken aback. Was Reiner in deep water? Why? You didn’t trust Commander Magath in the slightest, but still you weren’t one to ever disobey an order, “Crystal clear, sir.” He started to walk away, but somehow, you found the courage to speak out of turn, “Oh, also, I wanted to ask about my application to work as a field nurse that I submitted a few weeks ago while I had you here. I know it’s a competitive field to work with the Warr-”

The commander cut you off with exactly the news you had wanted to hear, and more, “Granted. You will start tomorrow, reporting here to me at standard time. You will be overseeing the Warriors and Warrior Candidates, I want them in perfect condition. Something I’m sure you understand. Now, I won’t keep you any longer. Go visit Braun. I’m sure he’s waiting.” As he walked away, you were sure your jaw had dropped. Not only had you just been accepted after being denied, but you would be able to work closely with your comrades again. You could almost burst with anticipation, but before you could think about your new job, you had a returned Warrior to welcome home.

…

The letter you received had told you to meet him on the roof, where the two of you had spent a few nights talking without the prying eyes of the brass or the other candidates, so you climbed the rusty ladder. What if he had changed? What if he was upset you chose to leave this life behind? What if he came back, but wasn’t the same Reiner you had longed to see again. What if he-

You paused mid-thought when you spotted a blonde-haired man sitting on the edge of the building. You were paralyzed in your place, unable to move as your nerves got the better of you. You could turn around, pretend you couldn’t find him, and return to the hospital for your shift. You could write a letter claiming you’d come when things slowed down, or when he had time to recover , or-

“You of all people should know better than to sneak up on me, dove.” The man’s voice startled you. It wasn’t at all like you remembered. It was deeper, yet still rough around the edges. It was…comforting. The man turned around to face you, but you didn’t recognize him this way.

“Reiner?” you asked, hoping you were right.

He smiled at the sound of his name from your mouth, loving the way your voice hadn’t seemed to change too much, “y/n.”

You walked over to him, where he stood up to embrace you. Only then did you notice the major height difference from when he had left, “I can’t believe it. You grew taller than me, damn bastard. That was supposed to be Bertholdt and I’s job.”

Reiner laughed heartily, still the same one that you had heard from him multiple times as children, “Haha, it was, wasn’t it?”

Your eyes scanned the roof, looking for the other Warrior who was often not far behind Reiner, “Where is he? Did he not want to visit with me as well?” Surely he was simply hiding, or out with the others.

“y/n,” Reiner called your name, but you weren’t entirely paying attention.

You continued to talk, speaking the first thought that came to mind, “I mean I totally get if he’s hanging out with Annie or something, they always were-”

“y/n,” his voice was stern, yet it wavered. Water gathered in his eyes, threatening to fall down his cheek.

Oh no. Something had happened, didn’t it?

“Reiner, you’re scaring me. Talk to me.” You placed a hand on his forearm, capturing his attention, hoping to help him.

The blonde shook his head, unable to find the words to tell you what had happened. Instead, his breaths became quicker, his heartbeat racing, and his mind spun from the memories of Bertholdt, “I-I can’t.”

You were quick to help him sit down, to take his hands in yours to try to bring his attention back to you, “Easy, chief. You’re safe now. Breathe with me, okay?” You started a breathing exercise with him, slowly trying to help lower his rapid pulse and erratic breathing, “In. Out. In. Out. In. Out.” Together, you repeated the process until his hazel eyes finally opened once again, finding your own looking back with a delicate concern, “Just like that.”

His breaths came back to a normal pace as he began to speak, “He’s gone. Bertholdt, he-he didn’t make it back with me. Those devils, they took him-they took him, just like Annie.” He put his head in his hands, crying into them as he apologized, “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry.”

Soldiers often came back from the field like this, traumatized by the horrors they had seen, plagued by the choices they either had or hadn’t made. For once, you were glad for that experience, so that you could now help someone who had helped you all the way through the Warrior program, “Reiner, look at me. You can’t blame yourself for that. Look, you made it back here to me, you are safe from those devils, alright?”

He nodded slowly, wiping the tears from his face and attempting to compose himself, “Right. Dove, it’s so good to see you again. I-I was so scared you’d forget me, that I’d come back home and you-you’d be gone.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at such a preposterous thought, “Forget you? Wow, you insult me for believing such a lie. Reiner Braun, I have waited everyday for nine years for you to return to Marley’s shores. Now, back then I might have been a little childish in thinking I wouldn’t miss you, but believe me, after four more years spending everyday with Porco, I missed you much more than I thought.”

Your joking manner was able to draw out a real laugh out of him. You smiled at the pleasant noise, glad to see him coming back to himself. He shrugged, “You know, I was more than surprised to hear you took up nursing. You always struck me more as a fighter than a healer.”

It wasn’t the first time someone had said that. In fact, you had thought of yourself that way as well. Hell, it had taken you quite a while to overcome that, but that was a story for another time, “You know, Dr. Jaeger once said the same thing, but I guess I just have a knack for it. Besides, I think Porco would have skinned me alive if he were to suspect I’d receive the next available titan over him, so all I can do is do as much good for Marley as I can outside the Warrior program.”

“Good,” he replied curtly.

“Good? What on Earth has gotten into you?” you teased, “Where’s the boy who would have challenged my decision to drop out of the program? Where’s the boy who would have taunted me for giving in, for losing to Porco of all people.”

His smile widened, “Haha, he’s still in here, but let’s say he understands the situation from an ‘outside’ perspective now.”

You raised an eyebrow, perplexed by his response, “Hmm, then I’d say he’s grown up quite a bit.”

He nodded, with a new sense of purpose,“He has, but there’s something else he learned while he was away.”

“Oh really? And what would that be, soldier boy?” You enjoyed being able to mess with him like you had before he left for the island, glad to use the nicknames you had given to him all those years ago once again.

“To keep moving forward, and to never take any chance for granted no matter how small.”

You hummed in response, glad to hear that he had a new goal in mind, “So, what chance are you going to take next?”

He used one of his hands to push away some hair that had fallen into your eyes, glancing at your lips just long enough for you to notice, “Heh, dove, if you’d allow me to, I’d like to try my hand at loving you, to make up for lost time.”

Internally, you were shocked, unable to believe that he had gathered such confidence over the years apart. It left you wondering how much Paradis had really changed him, still, you weren’t going to let him see your surprise, “Real smooth, chief.”

His expression was expectant, his golden eyes looking into yours with an unspoken desperation, with such a softness that you found yourself drowning into them, “What do you say, y/n? Want to take a chance on me?”

You leaned into him, pressing a kiss to his cheek, that is, until he turned, capturing your lips with his own in an accidental, but oh so meaningful kiss. You drowned in his embrace as he pulled you closer, slotting you between his legs. Only after the both of you pulled away for air did you cheekily reply, “Does that answer your question?”

He brought his forefinger to his chin, as if he had to ponder your question, “I don’t know, you might have to do it again.”

You lightly shoved him, jealous that he didn’t budge as much as an inch, “You’re lucky I actually like you.”

He traced your lips with his thumb before pulling you back into him, whispering just before your lips collided once again, “I sure am.”

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criminalmindzjunkie · 3 years

Text

The More Loving One

Masterlist

Summary: Professor Reid finds himself falling for a student.

A/N: This fic is based on this request. I changed a few things up, but I hope you like the finished product!

Long time, no see! It seems like forever since I got to sit down and just enjoy writing something. And enjoy this, I did. I approached this one a bit differently than I usually do, but I like how it turned out none the less. I hope you all enjoy my take on the Professor Reid arc. The first poem I use in this fic is titled The More Loving One by W.H. Auden, and the second is from a collection of Perry poetry.

Also, I recently hit 2k followers, which is absolutely unbelievable. I can’t even begin to explain how thankful I am for each and every one of you. This fic is my love letter to you. Thank you all so much.

Pairing: Professor!Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Content Warnings: a few swear words maybe?, teacher x student relationship, age gap, exhibitionism (sorta?), vaginal fingering, unprotected sex

Word Count: 4k

For as long as Spencer can remember, he’s always had a predilection for the finer things in life.

Spencer attributes the origin of his preferences to his upbringing. In his childhood, before his mother’s disease got the better of her, she exposed him to all sorts of literature. While he ventured to read all types of writings, he’d always been partial to tales of extravagance. A young Spencer Reid sought refuge in the profligacy of it all, as it was so starkly different from his own reality. Forced to bear the burden of household and a sick mother from an early age, Spencer’s own life left little room for reckless indulgence.

Now, as a single adult male, Spencer makes it a point to give himself up to the finer things as often as he can. Spencer isn’t a rich man, nor is he careless with what hard-earned money he does have. He simply likes to treat himself to the occasional five-star meal, and even more frequently, posh clothing and rare books. Walls lined with hundreds of antiquarian novels and a closet full of Comme Des Garçon cardigans are where the indulgence ends, however, and until recently Spencer was content with this.

But when she strolls into his life on the very first day of his teaching career, Spencer knows that his small luxuries will no longer be enough to keep him satisfied. The part of him that longs to have only the very best roars to life as he takes in every perfect inch of her. She stands before him, the embodiment of divinity and grace, looking like every fantasy he only dares to conjure up in the late hours of the night. A litany of cliches from every piece of romantic literature he’s ever read spring to the forefront of his mind in the instant that her eyes met his, but there is nothing stereotypical about the way her gaze banishes the air from his lungs. It is as jarring as it is intoxicating. He never wants to look away.

Unfortunately, she doesn’t feel the same. With a light flush of her cheeks, she turns away from him, and in an equally unfortunate turn of events, she proceeds to shuffle down the aisle and into the second row of seats to the right of the podium. The realization that washes over him feels like ice water in his veins.

She’s a student. Worse even – she’s his student.

Spencer wrenches his gaze from her as if he’s been burned, and the fiery shame of his embarrassment makes him tug at his collar. As he struggles to stave away the lingering heat in his chest and even more embarrassingly, the tightness in his trousers, Spencer chastises himself. His own carnal urges often go ignored, a fact that is glaringly obvious as he cowers behind his podium in an attempt to hide his arousal. He feels more than a little bit pathetic. No self-respecting thirty-five-year-old man gets hard just from gazing upon a beautiful young woman.

When Spencer pulls himself together enough to start his lecture, he positively forbids himself to look her way. It is hard to fight the urge, but every time he catches his eyes wandering to her, he reminds himself that she is an indulgence he simply cannot partake in. No matter how badly he wants to.

It doesn’t take long for her to notice him noticing her.

In the early days of the semester, she manages to convince herself that the stolen glances are but a figment of her overactive imagination. That, or an unhealthy dose of wishful thinking. But as the semester stretches on and the professor’s eyes linger more and more, wishful thinking gives way to a startling realization that she isn’t alone in her attraction. Professor Reid is, to her complete and utter astonishment, just as taken with her as she is with him.

This is all but confirmed when a slight brushing of the hands during an exchange of papers leaves them both with flushed cheeks and pounding hearts. Both of their heads snap up, two sets of eyes meeting in a prolonged stare that results in an understanding of sorts. It’s mutual, this thing blossoming between them. She can see her own hopes reflected in two velvet pools of brown – can see the longing, the desire that burns within them. Her heart soars, as she imagines his does, and she accepts the papers with a smile.

She also imagines that, if he could, he would tell her to wait for him. He would tell her that, for now, their relationship must stay strictly professional.

This doesn’t stop them from sating their cravings in other ways.

She makes it a point to stop by during office hours at least twice a week. Her visits always fall under the guise of her studies, but within minutes their hushed conversations stray from the professional and towards a more personal nature. She learns of Spencer’s mother and her condition, of his unusual job and his coworkers that were more like family. In return, she tells him about her upbringing in southern California, as well as her dreams of becoming a criminal psychologist. They never go as far as to discuss what will happen when the semester comes to a close. It is an unspoken agreement that the end of the semester will find them in each other’s arms. All they have to do is wait.

Spencer can’t voice his affections with words, but he more than makes up for this with his actions. Without fail, every Monday following the very first clandestine brushing of hands, lavish bouquets of flowers arrive at her workplace. Each bouquet is always paired with a notecard inscribed with a brief explanation of the meaning behind that week’s flower of choice. Cherry blossoms to pay homage to her beauty, plumeria to symbolize their new beginning, agrimony to convey his thankfulness that she is willing to wait for him.

Her favorite bouquet arrives four weeks before the end of the semester. As she steps through the doors of the bakery, a vase full of nine red roses sits atop the counter. The sight of them nearly takes her breath away. She pauses for a moment and runs her fingertips across the velveteen petals before plucking the notecard from its place.

This week, Spencer chooses to forgo the explanation in favor of a messily scrawled poem;

Looking up at the stars, I know quite well

that, for all they care, I can go to hell,

But on earth indifference is the least

we have to dread from man or beast.

How should we like it were stars to burn

with a passion for us we could not return?

If equal affection cannot be,

let the more loving one be me.

That evening, Spencer receives his first bouquet from her. On his desk sits an arrangement of pale pink ambrosia.

The meaning isn’t lost on him, but if it were, the note that sits next to the vase makes her intentions clear.

We never had to force love.

We were drowning in it from the moment we met.

Spencer is horribly frustrated.

A mere twenty feet away from where he stands, the notoriously garish and wholly unprofessional PhD program director is gesticulating wildly to the young woman that stands trapped between him and the hors d’oeuvre table. To find Professor Van Wesep in such a position is not uncommon, due to his penchant for trying to charm (terrorize) the prospective female doctoral candidates. The man is practically a walking harassment complaint waiting to happen. Spencer would abhor Van Wesep even if he weren’t the only thing standing in the way of him and his lover.

At long last, the semester has drawn to a close. The lonely nights spent longing to hold her in his arms are a thing of the past. By the time the sun rises again, Spencer will no longer have to wonder what her body will feel like pressed against his. He’ll be thoroughly acquainted with every inch of her, and she with him. The thought sends a thrilled chill down his spine.

The torturous foreplay they’ve been engaging in for the last four months would have surely broken a lesser man. Spencer would be lying if he said he wasn’t tempted on more than one occasion to have her during one of her frequent visits to his office. Some days, when her visits came later in the evenings, just as the sun began to dip low in the sky, her eyes would glisten in such a way that told Spencer her thoughts were none dissimilar to his own. That glimmer of lust had him holding on to his restraint by the skin of his teeth.

And here they were, on the last evening of the semester. Final grades had been submitted and were released hours prior. Spencer would have been content to skip this event altogether, in favor of more… recreational activities, but his lover insisted on attending.

Initially, Spencer assumed her insistence lay in her desire to mingle with her future peers and mentors. Her true intentions come to light when she breezes into the room clad in a pair of sleek, designer pumps. Her lips, painted fire engine red, curl up into a playful smile at the sight of a slack-jawed Spencer Reid. The devious glint in her eye twinkles sinfully in the light.

Tonight isn’t a social call at all. Tonight, she wants to play with him.

And play she has.

From the second she arrives all eyes are fixating on her celestial beauty. Peers and mentors alike trip over themselves in their haste to capture her attention, if only for a fleeting moment. She works the room flawlessly, leaving a trail of smitten men of all ages in her wake.

The most smitten is Spencer himself, because he’s the lone recipient of countless heated glances, as well as more than a few knowing smirks. She well aware of what she’s doing to him, and she takes pleasure in watching him squirm.

Spencer intervenes when Van Wesep makes the ill-advised decision to reach a hand up to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear. He barely has the time to withdraw his hand before Spencer is upon them.

“I apologize for the interruption,” Spencer casts a faux apologetic glance at his colleague, before settling his gaze on his target. “Ms. Y/L/N, may I speak to you for a moment?”

She looks positively gleeful. Perhaps Spencer should have intervened hours ago.

“Absolutely, Professor Reid.”

The honorific sends a jolt of heat straight to his groin. He definitely should have stolen her away earlier.

The two of them say their goodbyes to a confused Professor Van Wesep, whose imploring eyes follow them as they hurriedly slip from the party and down the hallway.

“Where are we going?”

Spencer leads her down a long corridor, far beyond earshot of the other guests. Pushing her into a dark corner, he positions her between himself and the cold wooden door of an unoccupied office. The only sounds that can be heard are the distant thrum of the music and the eager pants falling from his lover’s lips.

Spencer pulls her into a searing kiss, one hand tangling in her hair and the other finding purchase on her waist. He worries for a moment that he’s being too rough with her, that he should have taken a more careful approach to their first kiss, but she assuages those worries when she kisses him back with equal enthusiasm. Her hand reaches between them and clutches his tie, then she’s pulling him closer and whining wantonly against his lips. Spencer takes this as an invitation to slip his tongue inside and he finds himself letting out a low groan when he tastes a hint of strawberry.

Spencer pulls away to catch his breath. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

“Oh, I think I do, Professor,” she laughs, breathless. “Probably just as long as I’ve wanted to do this.”

Spencer jolts forward when her hand slides down to cup him over his trousers.

“Could’ve done that a lot earlier if you hadn’t insisted on teasing me for the entire night,” Spencer growls through gritted teeth. He’s more than a little proud of his ability to string together a sentence with her hand working him over with slow, steady strokes.

He trails a line of kisses across the underside of her jaw, before taking her earlobe and nipping it lightly with his canine. Spencer’s actions are rewarded with a full body shudder. He dips his tongue in the hollow at the base of her throat and her hands ball into fists against his dress shirt.

“Spencer, please.”

Spencer hums and pulls back to look at her. The hand in her hair lowers, and he trails a thumb across where her nipples are hard against the fabric of her dress.

“Yes, my love?”

Her eyes flutter against the weight of her arousal, and Spencer twitches in his pants. The sight of her with her hair disheveled and her lipstick smeared on account of him is a heavenly thing. He doesn’t know how he ever deprived himself of such a splendor.

“I want you. Right now.” She punctuates her words by pulling him down into a frenzied kiss. One of her hands tangles itself in the hair at the nape of his neck while the other busies with tugging his shirt out of his pants.

“Right now?” Spencer taunts, mouth against mouth. His hand trails down the side of her breast, caressing her rib cage and her hip before stopping at her upper thigh. Spencer’s fingertips toy with the tops of her lace thigh highs. “But anyone could walk by and see us.”

“I don’t care,” she argues, fumbling clumsily as she struggles to undo his belt buckle.

Spencer’s wandering hand dips below the hem of her dress to explore the silky-smooth skin of her inner thigh. She’s soft here, too, he thinks to himself as his hand travels up, up, up. He stops just short of where she wants him most and she lets out a despairing cry.

“You wouldn’t mind someone walking by and seeing you with your pretty legs spread wide for your professor?”

Spencer brings life to his words by lifting her leg up, hitching her thigh around his hip and pressing into her. The silk fabric of her dress rustles as he pushes it up and out of the way.

A breathy moan tumbles from her lips as he rocks against her, dragging his arousal up and down the front of her lace panties. The friction is maddening in that it provides only the smallest bit of relief. It’s not enough for Spencer, and judging by the way she desperately pushes down the fabric of his pants, it’s not enough for his partner, either.

“Need to get these off now,” she murmurs against Spencer’s mouth. An eager hand tugs at the elastic band of his underwear.

Spencer places his hand on hers, stilling her movements. “Not so fast, baby. Gotta make sure you’re ready for me first.”

Her fingers clamp down on Spencer’s wrist, guiding him to the sodden lace between her thighs.

“Don’t think that’s gonna be a problem,” she whimpers as Spencer’s fingers take appraisal of the drenched cloth. “In fact, I think four months of foreplay is sufficient enough. Wouldn’t you say?”

“Maybe so,” Spencer muses, voice muffled as he sucks at the skin of her neck. “But I’m not willing to chance hurting you our first time together. You’re entirely too precious to me.”

Spencer captures her lips in a kiss so sweet it has her sighing into his mouth. When he pulls away, he fixes her with a smile.

“You’re not particularly fond of these panties, are you?”

Her eyebrows pull together. “No, why?”

Spencer pulls at the flimsy fabric harshly and it gives way under the force of it. He reaches back to stuff the thong in his back pocket.

“That’s why.”

Spencer’s lips come down against hers at the same time his middle and index fingers drag across her slickness. His foresight pays off when his mouth muffles the sound of her cries. As confident he is that they won’t be found, a cry like that would certainly have drawn unwanted attention.

The swipe of his thumb across her crest paired with the gentle pressure of his fingers dipping into her heat is enough to make her legs buckle. Had it not been for Spencer pressing her against the wall, she surely would have fallen to the ground in a trembling heap.

“I could get lost in you for hours,” Spencer groans, curling his fingers inside her in such a way that makes her clutch desperately to his shirt.

“Spencer, oh my God,” she keens. “I need you, please.”

“You have me, my love,” Spencer whispers the promise against her parted lips. “You’ve had me since the first moment I laid eyes on you.”

Spencer speeds up the onslaught of his fingers until the telltale tightening of her heat warns him of her impending climax. He has to bite down on his lower lip to regain his own composure. The feeling of her tight and wet around his fingers is almost too good.

“Spencer, I’m getting close,” she whimpers.

Spencer continues until she’s on the cusp of tumbling over the edge, until one more pass of his fingers against her crest would surely seal the deal, and then he’s removing his hand and taking a step back.

“Spencer, what the fu-,” she pauses when he promptly shoves his pants and underwear just enough to free himself from their painful confines. “Oh.”

A dazed smile makes its way to her face as Spencer presses himself against her once more. He sweeps her up into a kiss comprised of pure, unadulterated desire, before pulling away and smirking deviously at her.

“Jump.”

It takes a moment for her pleasure fogged brain to make sense of the request, but as soon as it does, she complies without question.

Spencer’s hands grip her thighs firmly and in one swift thrust he sheaths himself into her fully – an indulgence so grand that all others dull in comparison. Now that he’s had the finest, felt it wrapped around him like warm velvet, he can’t imagine a world in which he must live without it.

“Spencer!”

Spencer swears he’s never heard a sweeter sound than her crying out his name as their bodies come together for the first time. It’s synonymous with a siren call, he thinks, because in that moment she could lure him to certain death and he knows he would go with a smile.

His lips seek purchase on the exposed skin of her chest as he buries himself in her paradise again and again. The sharp sting of her heels digging into his back with every thrust brings out a sort of primal urge in him, spurring him to rut up into her like a man possessed.

“You feel perfect,” Spencer groans out against the flushed skin of her neck. He presses a soft kiss to where her pulse bounds just beneath the skin before pulling away and locking eyes with her. “When I’m old and gray and can remember nothing else, I’ll remember this. I’ll remember how it felt to kiss you for the first time – how it felt to touch you. How it felt to worship you and make love to your body.”

Spencer’s voices catches, thick and overwhelmed with emotion.

“I’ll remember how it feels to love you.”

Her breath catches in her throat and sharp pang of panic burns hot in his chest. Had he misinterpreted her affections? Did she not burn for him in the same way? Perhaps the ambrosia meant nothing. Spencer’s movements falter, and for several torturous seconds he’s nearly paralyzed with fear.

She silences those fears with a kiss.

“Oh, Spencer,” she sighs as she presses her forehead against his. “I love you, too. More than you could ever comprehend.”

Spencer resumes moving in and out of her, but the frenzied feeling from before is replaced with something else now. Something softer, but no less passionate.

“Yeah?” he inquires, searching her eyes for any trace of insincerity. He finds none, and it’s a relief. Any hint of falseness in her claim would surely lead to a heartbreak he could never recover from.

“Yes.” The word trails off into a moan. “I love you, Spencer Reid. I don’t imagine I’ll ever stop.”

Spencer’s heart jolts and he whines pathetically against her mouth. “I’m counting on that.”

“I’m close, Spencer,” she pants, her breath hitting his face in warm puffs. “Don’t think I can last much longer.”

“Me, too.” Spencer nudges her nose with his own. “Reach between us and touch yourself, my love. I want us to cum together. Can you do that for me?”

She nods, and the hand that clung to his right shoulder dips in between them to rub tight circles against her crest. Spencer doubles his efforts when he sees her eyelids flutter closed, and the resulting tightening of her core leaves him panting hard.

“Spencer, I-” her breath catches in her throat as Spencer delivers a particularly strong thrust. Her head falls against his shoulder, her soft moans of his name like heaven to his ears.

“Cum with me, baby,” Spencer grunts out desperately. He needs it like he needs air to breath and water to drink. And once he has it, he knows he’ll need it again and again.

She gives it to him with a muffled cry of his name and he’s instantly swept away, drowning in the blissful way her body sings for him. His body follows her lead, shattering completely under her fingertips.

While he’s been through similar acts with previous partners, those instances always felt impersonal and clinical. The caresses and whispered words were all a means to an end, an end that usually left him feeling lonelier and emptier than when he started. But right now, as he feels the beat of her heart pressed against his own, he swears he couldn’t feel fuller - full of adoration, full of affection, full of love. It’s beautiful and overwhelming and everything Spencer didn’t know he was looking for.

A raucous round of applause erupts from the direction of the party, startling the two of them. Spencer feels her laugh against his neck.

“It’s almost as if they were applauding us for a job well done.”

Spencer presses a chaste kiss to the crown of her head.

“As they should. That was sensational.”

Spencer carefully pulls out and lowers her to the floor. He wastes no time in tilting her chin up and capturing her lips in a reverent kiss. Spencer hopes his lips convey his gratitude.

The two of them pull apart and set to making themselves presentable. Their efforts prove to be in vain when Spencer points out a dark purple love bite nestled into the crook of her neck. She counters this by taking note of the smudge of red lipstick on his collar.

“What an adulterous pair we make, Professor.”

Spencer rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “I’m not your professor anymore.” He bends down and places a kiss to her lips before taking her hand in his.

“I suppose you’re not,” she muses as they meander down the corridor. “Whatever shall we do now?”

As the two of them step out of the dark hallway and reenter the party, Spencer smiles to himself. Visions of wedding rings flit through his mind. Spencer supposes he’ll have to take a break from the posh clothing and rare books in favor of saving his money. He’ll buy only the finest ring for his future wife, after all.

“I have a few ideas.”

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#spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #professor!spencer #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds smut #matthew gray gubler fanfic #matthew gray gubler smut #matthew gray gubler #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #smut #professor!reid

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epicstuckyficrecs · 3 years

Text

Weekly Recap | October 4th-10th 2021

Sorry it's a bit late, I had a three day weekend and I was very very lazy :P ALSO this week is the Preview Week for the Marvel Trumps Hate auction!!! The Preview Week is when you can have a look at all the offerings, spot the ones you're interested in, and even sign up and save your favourites in a watchlist before bidding week starts! You can find my auction listing on Tumblr and on the MTH website. This year, I will be offering one fic cover/banner and one typesetting auction - turning a fic into a book! 😃 If you're interested in any of those, make sure you head over to my offerings page and add me to your watchlist!

Complete

The Buck Stops Here by theemdash/ @theeemdash (Canon divergent, Presidential Candidate Steve Rogers | < 1K | Teen): The presidential campaign trail has been tough on Steve Rogers, luckily his campaign manager and best guy is along to take care of him.

serpentine serenade by thiccbuckybarnes/ @thiccbuckybarnesfic (Naga AU, PWP | 3K | Explicit | Warning: Rape/Non-Con): Bucky returns from a long mission and finds Steve in rut. (Part 4 of Kinktober 2021)

i'm gone in such a blaze by thiccbuckybarnes/ @thiccbuckybarnesfic (Shrunkyclunks, PWP | 1K | Explicit): “C’mon, Stevie, I know you can do better than that.” (Part 2 of as you seep on in 'verse, Part 6 of Kinktober 2021)

💙 a rocky heart for breaking teeth by thiccbuckybarnes/ @thiccbuckybarnesfic (Hunkyclunks aka Modern Beefy Steve/Winter Soldier Bucky, Dom/Sub AU | 25K | Explicit): Bucky takes a sip of his drink, his gaze still locked with the sub over the rim of the glass. He sees the curiosity in those forget-me-not-blue eyes, that flash of interest, of attraction. It makes Bucky’s blood set ablaze under his skin, like a match striking a dry surface, igniting from friction. It’s a feeling he hasn’t in a long time—decades, even, considering he’d been chemically castrated during his imprisonment as the Winter Soldier and is now pumped up with enough suppressants to—well, to abate the intense needs of a super soldier that happens to be a Dominant. (Part 5 of Kinktober 2021)

💙 a shrinking violet no more by thiccbuckybarnes/ @thiccbuckybarnesfic (Historical Royalty AU, A/B/O | 7K | Explicit): He drinks up everything Bucky says as he promises himself, commits himself. Steve aches to touch him, to undress him and reveal that sweet body, to bring his omega pleasures that he cannot fathom. He wants to open this flower, take his body like no other ever has, to hoard every moan and tremble. His blood sings at the promise of it, the certainty that their bodies will be joined as one in mere hours. Steve simply cannot wait to devour his omega whole, to make him his forever. (Part 7 of Kinktober 2021)

💙 a wolf in sheep's clothing is more than a warning by voxofthevoid / @voxofthevoid (Vampire Bucky, Werewolf Steve | 13K | Explicit): How to Cope When Your Werewolf Soulmate Tries to Kill You With Sex: A Beginner’s Guide by James Buchanan Barnes. (sequel to your smoking gun's the tip of your tongue)

Reheating by fandomfluffandfuck/ @fandomfluffandfuck (Uni AU, Hockey | 20K | Explicit): Steve Rogers, center, first line. Bucky Barnes, right defenseman, first line. Steve cannot possibly make it through this year with his roommate being fucking Bucky. It’s not that the guy is too messy or stays up too late or anything as simple as that, it’s something that Steve can’t possibly approach him about… right? Like, saying, “hey can you stop being so fucking attractive for a second because it’s driving me insane,” is not the same as saying to someone, “hey could you quit leaving your clothes all over our floor so I don’t trip and die?” Good thing Bucky will end up beating him to punch, huh? (Part 2 of On Thin Ice)

💙 5 times Steve was Bucky’s Prince Charming (and 1 time he was a frog) by kocuria, kocuria-visuals (kocuria)/ @kocuria (Shrunkyclunks, Musician Bucky | 20K | Mature): It starts like this: Boy meets boy. Or, to be more exact: boy meets Captain America. Boy decides trolling is absolutely the way to go about his crush. Since, clearly, there’s no pigtails to pull. What the boy does not realize is: while trying to troll Captain America might seem like a sound plan, trolling Steve Rogers? Oh, that is bound to backfire.

💙 Falling Back on Forever by ftmsteverogers/ @transbucky (Canon Divergent, Winter Soldier Steve, Winter Soldier Bucky | 24K | Explicit): Bucky falls from the train in 1945. Steve jumps right after him. The Winter Soldier and the Midnight Patriot are the world's most feared duo, serving HYDRA and leaving a trail of bodies a mile wide behind them. But then they remember.

WIP

A Tapestry of Two by BlueSimplicity/ @bluesimplicity73 (Post-Winter Soldier, Mute Bucky | 2/? | 9K | Explicit): Ever since DC, things haven’t been easy for Bucky Barnes. HYDRA stole everything from him, even his voice, and two months later he’s barely surviving as he struggles to pull the few scraps of himself left into a cohesive whole. Until he gets his hands on a blanket and everything changes. Fascinated by its color and softness, he begins a journey he never would have imagined. Taken in by a stranger who teaches him to knit, Bucky slowly discovers he is so much more than a dropped stitch in the fabric of life. With time, patience, and the help of a few who have had their eyes on him for a long time, Bucky begins to turn himself into something stronger, softer and more beautiful than before, weaving a tapestry of friendship, laughter and love warm enough to embrace the entire world, fix old wrongs, and wrap around the only other person who never stopped believing in him.

💙 Give the Devil His Due by kocuria-visuals (kocuria)/ @kocuria, thiccbuckybarnes/ @thiccbuckybarnesfic (Historical Fantasy AU, Demon Steve | 2/4 | 16K | Explicit): "What is your name?" is all Bucky can think to ask, even though there are a million other things that should probably be said. Those curious blue eyes seem to consider him, his head tilting slightly in thought. He holds out his hand, and it's only then that Bucky realizes that it isn't stained with blood. Or at least, it can't be blood. For blood is not black. "Steve," the man says, but his voice sounds strange when he says it, like he’s asking a question rather than saying a decided fact.

💙 Read, White & Blue by JJK/ @trenchcoatsandtimetravel (Shrunkyclunks, Librarian Bucky | 3/16 | 14K | Teen): If Steve was certain one thing would have stayed the same during his sixty-something years in the ice, it was that libraries were still the place to go if you needed information. And Steve needed information. Lots and lots of it. aka Librarian Bucky helps freshly desfrosted Steve learn how to use computers and catch up on everything he missed whilst he was in the ice.

Re-read

💙 happily ever after has bite marks in it by voxofthevoid/ @voxofthevoid (Canon Divergent, Werewolf Steve, Winter Soldier Bucky | 29K | Explicit): In which Bucky is aggressively okay with his self-imposed exile from society, and Steve is a werewolf who’s nothing like the Brooklyn boy Bucky still dreams of. (Part 1 of in this story, you have claws)

💙 there's a light at the crack that's separating your thighs by voxofthevoid/ @voxofthevoid (Werewolf Steve, Winter Soldier Bucky, PWP | 26K | Explicit): Three times Steve and Bucky almost get caught having sex, and the one time the Avengers walk in on them. (Part 2 of in this story, you have claws)

💙 series: Sugar Sugar by geneticallydead/ @geneticallydead (Shrunkyclunks, Sugar Daddy Steve, Daddy Kink | 3 works | 19K | Explicit): The first time Steve sees Bucky Barnes, he knows he is so fucked. He can’t be older than 20. He looks up when Steve comes into the lab – summoned by Tony to check out the latest suit redesign – and bites down on his plush lower lip and smiles shyly at Steve. So, so fucked. OR Bucky wants to be Steve's sugar baby, and isn't exactly shy about it.

💙 series: Werewolf? There Wolf by leveragehunters (Monkeygreen)/ @leveragehunters (Werewolf Steve, Modern Bucky | 5 works | 65K | Teen): After the car accident that cost him his arm and the endless rehabilitation that got him his shiny metal Stark Industries replacement, Bucky's happy for a break from people. The house in the forest is peaceful, town's a fair distance away, and he's got no neighbours...except maybe a blue-eyed wolf and possibly a naked guy named Steve.

#stucky #stucky fic #stucky fanfic #stucky fanfiction #stucky fic rec #Weekly Recap

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thedoubteriswise · 4 years

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okay so. I am a smart adult with many important responsibilities. I have good taste and care about things that matter. for this reason, I’ve been trying to identify where in cql canon wangxian manage to fuck.

because they definitely do; I like a good post-canon getting together fic as much as the next guy, but it’s just not realistic.

allow them. it’s already been so long.

(just like this goddamn post turned out to be, let’s do a cut)

right. so initially it looks like you could place this right after the time skip in episode 33, because it shows us that wwx is with lwj in cloud recesses. we know that he spent the night in the jingshi because he wakes up there the next morning before he goes for a nostalgic tour of his old school.

and also visits the cold spring, where lwj is mostly naked. nice.

but wait! wwx is surprised by the scars on his back and chest. that seems like something he would have known about if they’d already been naked together the night before, so I’m going to say they did not fuck immediately upon wwx’s return to cloud recesses. okay, fine, they’re taking things slow, that’s cool.

maybe they could work it into the next night, then. oh wait, lqr is injured and... staying in the jingshi? for reasons?

I don’t know why. he must have his own house in cloud recesses, and it’s probably at least as comfortable as lwj’s, but here he is. he lives to stop his nephew from getting laid, I guess.

the next day they do some Q&A with the kids and determine that they need to head to qinghe to figure out what’s going on with this sword thing. great! we love a romantic road trip, plenty of alone time. but they also have to do their jobs, and then jin ling needs to get rescued from a wall of dirt, and jc is unfortunately there being himself, and then they have to grill nhs about his tomb full of angry sabers, etc. etc.

with all that going on, their next obvious chance is at the inn immediately after interviewing nhs. this evening has already included:

wwx gazing lovingly at lwj from afar

lwj carrying wwx on his back

lwj pawing at wwx’s robes trying to deal with his cursed leg

lwj helping wwx up the stairs, serving him wine, fixing his flute, and generally being at his beck and call

a very sexy and homoerotic duet

and now they’re alone and drooling over each other as usual. this seems like a plausible spot, right?

it does! but no. after they go back to the nie basement o’ swords and hear the backstory on nmj’s death, we see them walking in yueyang and lwj asks wwx how the curse mark on his leg is doing. wwx says it’s almost healed, which may or may not be a lie, but his inner monologue says:

he’s more concerned about the wound on his arm from the sacrificing curse, which lwj doesn’t know about, because wwx won’t tell him and they still haven’t been naked together.

also, this silly teenage shit doesn’t make much sense unless they’re still dancing around each other.

you guys love the sound of opportunities as they go flying past, don’t you?

right after this, lwj gets drunk. I’m aware that Stuff Happens in the novel scene that inspired this bit, and they do incorporate some of that into the show by having lwj commit petty larceny and admit that he “likes rabbits” as part of the softest and most loving conversation in human history oh my god

but lwj goes to sleep right on time, and the next morning, wwx is laughing and reassuring him that nothing happened.

after this, it’s time to go on a fucked up field trip with the kids in yi city, so they don’t really have any time alone for a few episodes until they’ve finished that and everyone is back at yet another inn. I wonder if they learned something about wasted chances and poor communication from this miserable songxiao story?

maybe! look, they’re being cute and domestic. there are currently no material barriers preventing them from having sex, nor will there be any specific evidence later on proving that they didn’t.

but they’re still firmly in mystery-solving mode and the juniors and lxc are floating around. the vibe isn’t quite there. if I were to pick the most solid reason why I think they’re saving room for jesus at this point, it would be the tension that happens when wwx again asks how lwj recognized him. lwj asks why his memory is so bad, and wwx replies that he wishes he had a bad memory. even though they’re comfortable and happy being together, there’s still some fundamental distance remaining. there’s no sense of romantic resolution. that was actually a point against all their previous opportunities as well; they’re all very sweet, but none of these feel like the place in a story where the romantic leads Officially Get Together.

okay, off to koi tower! shit is getting extremely real. everyone’s busy insinuating that they recognize wwx, but no one is saying it explicitly. wwx isn’t supposed to be here. the guy he’s pretending to be also isn’t supposed to be here. he and his boyfriend and his boyfriend’s brother are trying to figure out if his boyfriend’s brother’s boyfriend is a murderer. no one is comfortable and the political intrigue leaves no time for fucking in front of anyone’s salad.

I guess there’s plenty of time to make dozens of armed guards and like half the people they know wait while they have a romantic moment, though.

could they be more in love? And that sure feels like a romantic resolution that might be followed by narratively-earned sex.

ah. no, unfortunately wwx gets stabbed again. this certainly sucks, but it does have the helpful consequence of making lwj take him back to cloud recesses, where they are mostly alone and as safe as they can be in the circumstances. now there’s even more tenderness and also some plot-justified touching and skin exposure. plus, lwj just made a very public declaration of love.

too bad wwx has probably been unconscious since he started coughing up blood in the forest near lanling. he’s also still visibly in pain. fresh abdominal wounds tend to kill the mood.

but hey, the injuries on this show are only as serious as they need to be to move the plot forward and facilitate gentle h/c scenes, so by evening he’s looking perfectly healthy and walking around under his own steam like nothing’s wrong. I guess that problem can be ignored moving forward.

lxc then offers the the most devastating highlights of lwj’s backstory, like, all at once. it’s nice that he includes a flute solo to give wwx a second to process this mountain of terrible information. what the fuck.

there he is! the most devoted man in the whole world! turns out they can actually be more in love after all.

and then the following scene... look, I’m lazy and I don’t know how to make gifs, but screenshots cannot properly convey how good it is. you all know. the hesitant way wwx approaches, the slow and gentle piano version of wangxian, the two of them watching the snow together, it’s. ugh.

remember how I was talking about how the last scene with no material barriers was an unlikely candidate because of the lack of romantic resolution?

well, here’s wwx still being cagey at the beginning of this conversation.

and here they are in the middle of this conversation, having some epiphanies about the course of wwx’s life - I love this shot for a lot of reasons, but I extra love it because it shows wwx out in the snow, with lwj as the safety and warmth waiting behind him, god this show goes hard, holy shit

they both recall their vow to live with a clean conscience and internally say some very corny things about each other because they are both So Much, and then,

ah, what the hell. he can say it out loud after all. romantic resolution accomplished.

and then the camera slowly pulls away as wuji plays.

a slow zoom out? swelling music? listen, I am a connoisseur, I know a tasteful fade-to-black indicating a sex scene that won’t happen on camera when I see one. at last, we have a winner!

now you may think this post is finally over, but I actually have one more piece of evidence for you - the next scene shows the two of them the morning after, meditating behind a screen in the hanshi while lxc is waiting for jgy to show up.

before wwx got de-cored, he was a pretty powerful cultivator, right? the chances that he’s just bad at meditating or that he can’t stay focused on this task seem slim to me. so why does he keep falling asleep?

well. he had kind of a late night.

#yes I do have a lot of time on my hands #the untamed #cql #wangxian #meta #my meta

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vrishchikawrites · 3 years

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If its not too dark, jow about fic where wwx's implied cannibalism is discussed/talked about by wangxian?

"Would you rather die of starvation?"

Wei Ying asks and Wangji looks away from the men before him to see Wei Ying studying them curiously.

"Starvation isn't fun," he says, "It is a sharp, maddening sensation that never leaves you alone. It feels like your body is attacking itself and eating itself inside out. When you starve, your sanity slips little by little, your head aches, your tongue dries up, and there's this gnawing pit in your stomach that overtakes your entire being."

Wangji feels dread coil in his stomach as he watches his husband.

"You reach a point where hunting for food becomes instinct. You eat anything that looks remotely edible, dried branches, watermelon rinds, crawling insects, anything. Starvation is like drowning- you can only hold your breath for so long."

The villagers exchange unnerved glances and Wei Ying turns to look at the two children on the bed, his gaze sharp and disapproving, "You cannot hold their actions against them."

"Gongzi," the leader of the men says tentatively, "Surely, it is unnatural-"

"Blaming innocent and ignorant children for what they did to survive is unnatural." Wei Ying says, "Their father acted out of despiration to save them and gave them instructions. Will you now blame children for obedience?"

"Hanguang-jun, surely you understand! Our village has faced draught ever since these children arrived and we finally know why! The Gods are displeased with us!"

Wangji looks at the children, feeling a stir of concern at their wan faces. They've already been beaten black and blue by angry villagers.

"I'll be taking the children," Wangji looks at his husband in surprise but doesn't voice any objections. It is rare for Wangji to deny his husband anything these days and Wei Ying's desires are often simple things, easy to fulfill with the greatest pleasure.

This may be a little more complicated to arrange but nothing Wangji won't happily do for his beloved.

He recognizes the stubborn expression for what it is.

Faced with a stern-eyed Yiling Patriarch and his powerful Lan husband, the villagers back away quickly, leaving the children in their care.

Wei Ying still has a stern expression but he does turn around when they leave, his eyes softening, "Apologies, Lan Zhan," he says softly, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Wangji places a hand on Wei Ying's lower back, pressing him close for a moment in silent reassurance.

One of the children shifts and Wei Ying pulls away.

They'll talk later.

Wangji sets the comb aside and stares at the back of Wei Ying's head. His love is uncharacteristically silent, staring out of the window. The silence doesn't feel melancholy, just thoughtful.

He collects the strands of fragrant hair and places them over Wei Ying's shoulder, leaning forward to press a kiss to the bare nape, "Dear heart," Wei Ying hums, leaning back against him, "May I ask you a question? About your experience at the Burial Mounds."

Wei Ying is silent for a while before he laughs softly, "Aiya, Lan Zhan, I already know what you wish to ask." Wangji waits patiently for permission and Wei Ying huffs and nods, "Yes, you may."

"What did you eat?"

Wei Ying picks up Wangji's hands and presses a gentle kiss on them, lacing their fingers together. He lingers for a moment before sighing, "My Hanguang-jun doesn't deserve to hear of such grim things."

Wangji curls his fingers because that might as be a confirmation. His heart breaks for his beloved and he closes his eyes, "Your husband wishes to know, Wei Ying."

"Mostly some small critters, Lan Zhan," he admits, "Sometimes I'd dig up roots of trees. They were softer and easier to consume. I managed to catch a few birds. Bugs, earthworms, maggots, crickets- they were plentiful."

Wangji stays silent, his running his thumb cross Wei Ying's knuckles soothingly.

"Sometimes-" Wei Ying pauses, "If there was something fresh, yes, I had to harvest it."

"Wei Ying," he whispers, something in his chest twisting in horror, "You didn't feel ill? Some of the- they can't have been fresh."

Wei Ying scoffs, "Wen Chao dropped some of his victims off in the same area after a few weeks. That actually helped me find the direction to walk in."

Wangji swallows and presses his nose to Wei Ying's temple, "How much suffering do you hide from me, Wei Ying? Even now?"

His husband turns his right hand and kisses his palm in response, his gestures smooth and affectionate despite the topic of their conversation. "Lan Zhan, what purpose does it serve to remember or discuss these things?" He asks finally, "Does talking about it erase what happened? What does it do besides making you worry about me?"

"Would you be unconcerned if you were in my place?" Wangji asks. Unable to help himself, he pulls Wei Ying onto his lap and turns his husband's beautiful face towards him, "Isn't it my privelege to worry? Haven't you given me the right to know you, Wei Ying?"

Wei Ying smiles, one of his soft, private smiles that he only reserves for Wangji, "Aiya, Lan Zhan, you talk nonsense sometimes. Of course, you have the right to know me. I am yours, every part of my mind, body, and soul is yours." Wangji feels his ears become warm at the candid admission. Wei Ying, as always, he delighted by them.

"Wei Ying," he reprimands when his husband nuzzles his jaw in a clear attempt to distract him.

Wei Ying sighs and pulls away a bit, "Don't you think that life has given us enough pain already, Lan Zhan? Why add more by actively seeking memories of unpleasant times."

Wangji frowns but he can't deny the wisdom of those words. Wei Ying's capacity to heal has always amazed and worried him.

Slender fingers tap his cheek and he looks into his husband's smiling eyes, "I would rather remember the times I spent with you, just like this. Because Lan Zhan, all of our pain is in our past. It cannot touch us now. As long as Lan Zhan exists, Wei Ying is safe and loved."

Wangji cups his husband's face and draws him close, "Wei Ying is safe and loved," he agrees and kisses him.

That's all that matters.

#tw implied cannibalism #short prompts #wei wuxian #lan wangji #post canon #implied child abuse

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fallen-gravity · 3 years

Text

Intellectual Adequacy

Stan hates to start any unnecessary conflict, especially when there’s a very real chance that Ford will be moving to California next year, but he knows deep down that if they don’t talk about this now then he’ll never have the courage to bring it up again.

“Wait,” Stan shouts to Ford, and he stops dead in his tracks.

Notes: In which one little plot bunny that was preventing me from getting any work done becomes its own rabbit hole.

I genuinely cannot believe that in the six-seven years I've been in this fandom, I've never tried my hand at the fix-it-fic where Stan and Ford just talk it out as teenagers, just like they should've in canon. I've seen a lot of different approaches, but I feel like I've yet to see one that tackles it from the perspective of Stan's own battle with his self-worth, rather than the actions he or Ford have already taken.

AO3

Stan hates the principal’s office more than anywhere else in the world.

He swears, he’s called down every other week for something that’s not even his fault. He punched Crampelter in the nose for harassing some poor freshman? Principal’s office. He talks back to a teacher calling his classmate stupid for forgetting an “obvious” geometry equation? Principal’s office. He accidentally drops his pencil during an exam and bends over to pick it up? He must be cheating. Principal’s office.

If you asked him, the whole idea of sending kids to the principal’s office is pointless to begin with. Oh, you did something bad, and now we’re gonna make the big man in charge tell your mommy and daddy? How old do these people think they are?

Stan wishes he could say that this time is okay because they’re not even talking to him. They’re talking up a storm to Ford in there about another college scholarship and all the reasons why he and he alone would be the perfect candidate for some random school all the way out in California

But it’s not okay, because the longer Stan sits in the dumb waiting room the more he’s starting to feel like chopped liver. They’ve been in there for at least five minutes with no sign of stopping anytime soon, but every time Stan asks the secretary if he can just go back to class already she dismisses him with a wave of her hand and it’ll be your turn soon, sit back down.

He’s thinking of just sneaking out the next time the secretary buries her nose back into her magazine. It’s simple: just wait for her to pull it out from her desk, sneak by as quick as he can, and slip out the door and back to class before she can even notice he’s gone.

He stands from his chair, pretending to stretch and preparing to execute, but freezes solid when he hears his name being spoken from within the principal’s office.

“…What about our little free spirit Stanley?”

It’s Ma, and whatever it is they’re talking about in there, she isn’t happy about it. Frowning, Stan glances over at the secretary to make sure that she isn’t staring at him, and presses his ear to the office door to listen to their conversation more carefully.

The principal laughs in response. “That clown? At this rate he’ll be lucky if he graduates high school”

Stan’s taken aback by the harsh choice of words, but if he knows Ford, then he won’t just sit there and let the principal talk about him like that. He presses his ear further into the door, waiting for Ford to interrupt the principal’s rambling about how he’s never going to amount to anything with you just don’t know him like I do, or something along those lines, but it never comes.

Not a single interjection that…anything he’s saying is wrong. Not from Pa, not from Ford….and not even from Ma.

They don’t…all really believe that, right?

There has to be something else he’s missing. He bets they’re defending his honor right now, and the reason they’re not making a big scene about it is because they’re in public.

Yeah.

He’s got nothing to worry about.

He peeks into the window, expecting to see Ma glaring daggers into the principal, or Ford silently cursing him out behind his back, but what he’s met with is so much worse. Ma and Pa are exchanging warm smiles, and Ford is frantically shaking hands with the principal, beaming brighter than Stan’s ever seen in his entire life.

Matter of fact, Stan’s not sure he’s ever seen any of them look so happy in his entire life.

He’s worthless, he’ll never go anywhere, and they’re all smiling about it.

Stan’s heart drops to his stomach, and he slides to the floor to join it.

Is this some kind of cruel joke? Were they expecting him to listen in on their conversation? Is this their cruel workaround of telling him he’ll never amount to shit?

He sighs.

He stays there on the cold tiled floor for what feels like hours, contemplating all the times he’s been called dumb, or stupid, or a terrible influence on his brother. All of those times when he could brush it off just because it was coming from someone he didn’t care about.

But worthless?

Behind his back, spoken directly to people he loves, and they won’t even bother to defend him?

That one’s new, and if Stan is going to be completely honest with himself, it’s much harder to brush off his shoulders than all those other times.

Stan doesn’t even notice the office door opening until it nearly smacks him in the back of his head. He quickly jumps to his feet and brushes himself off, pretending the best that he can that he wasn’t just eavesdropping on them for the past ten minutes.

“Stanley!” Ford comes bursting out of the room, his grin threatening to split his face in two. “I just received the most incredible news! The admissions team at West Coast Tech heard about my science fair project, and-”

The beam suddenly slips from his face, replaced with some sort of mix of confusion and concern. “Is...Something wrong?”

Stan rubs at his eyes to make sure he hadn’t started tearing up without realizing it, but no, his eyes are bone dry.

Curse Ford’s stupid ability to read his mind.

Stan covers up the gesture of rubbing at his eyes with a yawn, and stretches his arms in the air. “Nothing except you taking forever in there” he flashes a fake smile easily. “Talk about a blabbermouth, am I right?” Stan gestures towards the principal with his thumb.

Ford laughs, and returns his gaze to the pamphlet in his hands. “I don’t know,” he says. “I don’t think he’s so bad”

Stan opens his mouth to quip back, but Ford doesn’t seem to be paying much attention anymore. He’s just staring at that dumb pamphlet, his grin slowly but surely returning to his face again.

Instead, Stan shoves his hands in his pockets and shrugs, turning his gaze to the floor. “Yeah, I guess you’re right”

~~~

Stan feels like he’s in a haze for the rest of the day. Even when he tries to focus on class to take his mind off of things and redirect it on anything else, he can’t get his mind to stick. Not even final period gym class can save him, which is really saying something, because the gymnasium is usually the one place where he thrives.

Worthless.

The word won’t stop bouncing around in his skull, hitting him where he’s most sensitive.

It doesn’t help a thing that Ford is dead silent on their walk home from school. He’s usually chatting up a storm to Stan about stuff he doesn’t really understand, and under normal circumstances Stan can’t wait to get home so he can bury his head in his pillow and drown out the sound of Ford’s babbling.

But today he’s not even looking in Stan’s direction, just burying his nose in the West Coast Tech brochure with stars in his eyes, and now Stan wants nothing more than to hear Ford babbling on about his advanced physics classes.

It’s almost insulting.

Stan sighs, and lightly taps on Ford’s shoulder to catch his attention. “Can we talk?”

“Hmm?” Ford blinks, like he needs a few moments to readjust to reality. “Oh! Of course. I was actually planning on asking you the same thing” he places the brochure in his pocket. “Same place as always?”

Stan nods. “Same place as always”.

It’s a quick change of direction and a shortcut to the beach before they find themselves on their old swing set. By now they’re both too heavy to use it properly without a risk of snapping it, but they still find it’s a good place to go when they just need to get away and talk.

“You’re not really thinking of going to that stuffy old school, are you?” Stan asks as soon as Ford sits on the swing beside him. “They’ve gotta be crazy if they think four more years of essays and exams are better lookin’ than tanned babes and gold chains. We’re so close to finishing up the Stan-O-War. Soon as graduation rolls around we’re outta here, just like we always promised”.

Ford chuckles. “That is a nice thought, but…” he pulls the brochure out of his pocket again, and unfolds it for Stan to see. “You have to understand that I can’t just pass up an opportunity like this. Maybe I don’t need a degree from any old state school, but this is West Coast Tech we’re talking about!” he beams, the stars returning to his eyes. “They’ve got cutting edge technology and multidimensional paradigm theory”

Stan rolls his eyes, but he can’t help but admit to himself it’s nice to have his brother back again after an entire day of radio silence.

“Beep boop, giant nerd robot oncoming” Stan punches Ford in the arm.

Ford’s grin only widens. “I figured you’d say that, but it’s too late to change my mind. The head of admissions already flew in this morning, and with my go-ahead they’re going to check out my science fair project later tonight and let me know then and there if they want me at their school”

“Well that seems kind of harsh” Stan quips. “What if they say no?”

Ford shrugs. “Well, then it’s like you said. If they don’t want me, you and I sail off on the Stan-O War and never look back”.

Stan frowns at the strong emphasis on if. He really thinks he’s going to get this, doesn’t he? Stan can’t exactly blame him when he’s been the reigning valedictorian of their class every year since they were kids.

“And if they say yes?”

Ford grins. “Well, then you better visit me on the other side of the country” he punches Stan in the shoulder, and stands to his feet without saying another word.

Stan can’t bring himself to join him. He knows that Ford didn’t mean anything by it, but he can’t help feel wounded by his brother’s implication that while he’s off in California having the time of his life, Stan’s still gonna be stuck living with their parents in New Jersey.

It’s just like their principal said. He’ll never amount to anything anyway, so why wouldn’t he stay in New Jersey? Where else would a worthless piece of shit like him end up?

Stan shifts on his swing and watches as Ford walks away, and he can’t help but wonder just how much of the principal’s tangent that Ford believed.

All of it?

Some of it?

Had Ford even been listening to what he said at all?

As he continues to watch his brother walk away, he can’t help the feeling in his gut that he has to know. He hates to start any unnecessary conflict, especially when there’s a very real chance that Ford will be moving to California next year, but Stan knows deep down that if they don’t talk about this now then he’ll never have the courage to bring it up again.

“Wait,” Stan shouts to Ford, and he stops dead in his tracks.

“Yeah?” Ford says, turning around to face him. Stan suddenly finds himself very aware of his heart loudly pounding against his chest, but he forces himself to squash that down. He’s never felt shy or anxious about asking his brother anything, and he sure as hell isn’t letting that start now.

“You don’t…uh,” he swallows. “You don’t think I’m…worthless, do you?”

Ford looks appalled. He neatly folds the brochure back into his pocket and starts walking- no, jogging, almost sprinting back to the swing set. He pauses in front of the empty swing beside Stan for a moment, like he’s debating whether he should sit down or not, but eventually he shakes his head and sits down anyway.

“What on earth makes you say that?” There’s a hint of anger to his tone, but Stan’s not entirely convinced it’s directed at him. “Why would I think you’re worthless? You’re my twin brother! What could’ve possibly put the idea in your head that I thought that?”

There’s a tiny voice in the back of his head screaming at him to back out, brush it off with a joke and have this conversation later, but there’s an even louder voice shouting at him that it needs to be had now.

Stan sighs. “I…overheard everything in the principal’s office today”

Ford blinks, like he doesn’t understand a word that Stan just said. “About…West Coast Tech? Is this because you’re afraid that I’ll get in, but you know you won’t because you’re not even interested in applying anyway, but you know you’re going to miss me, and you’re not sure if you can handle-”

“About me, Sixer!” Stan shouts, and tries his damn hardest to ignore the waver in his voice. “He practically called me a useless piece of shit directly to Ma and Pa and neither of them said a word about it!” He scrubs his hands down his face because he’s not choking up, not over something so pointless and stupid. “You’re going to travel the world and become the smartest person the scientific community has ever seen, or whatever, but me? Apparently I’ll always be stuck here in New Jersey to pick up after everyone else’s messes, because that’s all I’m ever good for”

Stan buries his face in his hands. He hadn’t meant to blow up, and he certainly hadn’t meant to direct his anger at Ford, but he just feels so hopeless, and he’s the only one around who’s willing to listen. He wouldn’t be surprised if Ford returned with anger of his own, or told him off for being selfish, or even if he just decided to stand up and walk away from him for being such an embarrassment.

The silence that follows is thick and heavy. Stan is so convinced that he must’ve driven Ford away that when he feels a hand on his shoulder he nearly jumps a mile out of his skin. When he finally pulls his hands out of his face to meet Ford’s eyes, his face is flushed pink and he looks…embarrassed.

“Stan, I had no idea, I…” he awkwardly pulls his hand away and grips tightly to the chain of his swing. Stan can see Ford’s face shifting through about a dozen different emotions at once. “I…must’ve been too focused on everything else to realize he was saying those things about you.” He shakes his head. “I know it’s not an excuse, but…” he sighs. “I’m sorry”

There’s another bout of silence between them. Stan’s half-expecting that to be the end of it, and for Ford to walk away without another word.

But Ford breaks the silence with a sigh, and when Stan glances over at him he’s staring down at the ground.

“If it’s any consolation...you’re much smarter than me in a lot more places than you realize”

Okay, now Stan has to laugh. “Okay, now you’re being too nice to me. You don’t need to lie to make me feel better”

“I’m serious!” Ford’s cheeks flush pink again, and he adjusts his glasses before returning his gaze towards Stan. “There’s actually been a fascinating number of studies about intelligence lately, and, well…” Ford’s face is turning redder by the minute, Stan swears. “It turns out that…there’s more than one type”

Stan raises an eyebrow. “You’re losing me here, Sixer”

“Well, you see, I thrive in academic intelligence. Math, science, history, you know, school stuff. That’s the most commonly known type of intelligence because a lot of our formative years are based on it”

Stan doesn’t say anything, just raises his eyebrow even further.

“But,” Ford continues quickly, “They’ve also made discoveries about the existence of social intelligence”

“Social?” Stan blinks, suddenly finding himself significantly more interested. “You mean like talking to people and stuff?”

Ford nods. “Precisely. They say people with high social intelligence are much better at picking up on social cues, and can make friends with others much easier than those with lower social intelligence.” Ford kicks at the sand. “The reason social intelligence hasn’t been recognized is because it’s often mistaken for having a friendly personality”. His face flushes pink again, like he’s afraid he said the wrong thing. “Not that a person can’t have both, but…”

Stan smirks, nudging at Ford with his elbow. “Stanford Pines, are you calling your good-for-nothing brother intelligent?” He teases, but can’t help the genuine smile creeping to his face.

“Think about it!” Ford throws an arm into the air, the other one tightly gripped on the swing to prevent himself from falling off. “Every time Ma and Pa leave us in charge of the shop so they can go to Atlantic City for the weekend, who’s the one bringing in all the customers? Who’s the one selling out our daily stock less than two hours after we’re open? You are, Stan, just by being yourself. You know how to persuade people into buying our stock at ten times the listed price.”

“You can’t learn that from twelve years of public school. They can try to teach you, but at the end of the day it’s all about your ability to connect with people” Ford rubs at his arm. “I’ve tried teaching myself those kinds of tricks for years, but at the end of the day…” he shakes his head. “I’ve never been able to catch up.” He smiles. “I raise my white flag to you, Stan. You’ve outsmarted the smartest brother in the world”

Stan chuckles. “Try telling that to Principal Comb-over. He hears you saying the so-called dumbest clown in the entire school system is smarter than you and he’s going to cart you away to the loony bin”

Ford laughs. “You know, now that I think about it, there may actually be a way to tell him off for what he said about you and get away with it scott-free”

Stan raises an eyebrow. “Yeah? How so?”

Ford smirks. “I think you should try to graduate out of spite”

Stan’s not sure he follows. “Whaddya mean?”

“I mean, think about it” Ford stands from his swing and begins to pace back and forth. “The principal called both of us down even though he only wanted to speak to me, and then he talked shit about you even though he knew you were sitting right outside his door?” he pauses in his pacing. “Stan, he knew that you could hear him. Maybe he didn’t intend for you to listen in when he was talking to Ma and Pa about my scholarship opportunity, but he knew you’d be listening the moment you were brought up in the conversation”

That’s…true. Stan was just about to sneak out before he heard them say his name.

“He’s expecting you to fail, and he wants to put it in everyone else’s head too. He thinks it’s the easy way out, because if you choose to fail out on your own than he doesn’t have to take responsibility for being such a shitty educator. It gives him the chance to say look how he didn’t even try instead of look at how we failed him.”

“But if you proved him wrong? Imagine the look on his face when he has to be the one to place that diploma in your hand. Imagine him having to look you dead in the eyes and tell you he’s proud of you. You’ll know he’s speaking bullshit, but he knows he can’t talk shit about you anymore without making himself look bad.” Ford smirks. “Matter of fact, imagine the looks on the faces of everyone who’s ever doubted you walking across that stage. Pa alone is gonna have a heart attack”

Ford’s smile softens. “I already know that you’re much smarter than you’re given credit for, and I think it’s about time that everyone else recognizes that too”.

Stan’s cheeks burn red, and he shyly kicks at the sand. “Heh, thanks. I appreciate it.” He says. “But even if I did manage to graduate, what am I supposed to do with a high school diploma? Every job application I’ve been skinning through recently says college, college, college”

“Well…” Ford taps at his chin. “Then why not go out for college?”

Okay, now he’s taking things too far.

“Pardon?” Stan mocks, because if Ford thinks that Stan’s going to willingly take four more years of classes than maybe he should be carted away to a loony bin.

“I’m serious!” Ford blushes. “Maybe not a high intensity school like West Coast Tech, but college is so much more freeing than high school, Stanley. It’s not class after class on subjects that other people tell you to take. It’s personalized. If you hate science class so much, you never have to take another science class again”

Ford’s blush darkens. “I know that school is a big drag and all, but if you asked me?” he averts his gaze. “I think you’d really benefit from business school. Charisma and social intelligence is the number one thing that big name businesses are looking for, and I know you’re filled to the brim with both. Ultimately it is your decision, but…” Ford fiddles with his thumbs. “Just…just consider it, okay?”

For a brief moment, Stan just wants to burst out into hysterical laughter. Ford’s been offered the opportunity of a lifetime at one of the best schools in the country, and he’s still taking the time to help out his good-for-nothing brother who’s been cheating off of his exams for the past ten years.

Instead he settles for a roll of his eyes. “Alright, Professor Poindexter, I’ll consider it”

Ford giggles at that, and for a few moments neither of them says anything, watching the waves gently lapping on the beach in the short distance. It’s a comfortable silence, a reassuring sort of feeling that Stan hasn’t felt in a long time.

The frantic beeping of Pa’s wristwatch interrupts them, and both boys flinch at the sound in unison. For a moment Stan is worried that Pa’s standing behind them having heard every word, but when he glances over at Ford, he sees him rolling up his shirt sleeve to reveal that he’s the one wearing the watch, and clicks the alarm off.

“Pa made me borrow it so I wouldn’t be late for the presentation with the school board” he rubs awkwardly at the back of his head. “I’ll probably give it back as soon as I get home tonight”

Stan smirks. “You still hate the sound of that thing too, huh?”

“I can still hear it in my nightmares,” Ford exaggerates, his eyes going wide, and the twins burst into laughter as they both stand from the swings and stretch their arms and legs to wake them up from sitting for so long.

Ford wipes at his eye as he fidgets with the wristwatch. “So…do you think you’re going to be okay?”

That in itself is a pretty loaded question that could take him all night to answer, but all things considering…

“Yeah,” Stan smiles. “I think I’ll be okay”

Ford smiles back, and gestures with his thumb towards the direction of the pawn shop. “Then I’m going to head home and get ready for my presentation. You coming?”

Stan shakes his head. “I think I’ll stay out here and just…watch the ocean for a little while longer”

Ford’s smile softens, but he doesn’t say anything else. He turns heel and walks back towards the house, and it feels as though a giant weight has just been lifted off of Stan’s chest. He glances back to watch Ford go, but finds comfort in the feeling that he feels nothing at all.

~~~

Nearly five hours later, Stan sits at home, watching television on the couch to pass the time. Just out of the corner of his eye he sees Ford slip into the kitchen and gently click the door closed. Stan shuts the TV off, and spins around on the couch to face his brother.

“Well?” Stan asks, though he knows he doesn’t even need to bother asking, given that Ford looks like he’s about to burst. With a shaking hand, Ford reaches into his pocket and pulls out a glinting white envelope.

If he’s trying to keep an air of mystery about it, he’s doing a really bad job, because all at once his composure breaks and the smile that spreads across his face looks as though it could burn out the sun.

“They loved me!” He shouts, excitedly pacing the floor. “They told me they’ve never seen anyone else like me!”

His smile is so contagious that it hurts.

Perhaps another day, in another timeline, Stan would take offense to Ford’s excitement to bounce off to the other end of the country without him. Perhaps he’d even lash out, or do something he would’ve immediately regretted.

But here and now, Stan couldn’t be happier for his brother if he tried.

#my writing #gravity falls #stan twins #stan pines #ford pines

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beananacake · 2 years

Note

hey hey hey sorry if I am bothering you but I still have some other questions. I'm just really interested in your thoughts of the fics.

questions 9,21 for TAP and can you tell us 26 aka the funfact of savior, TAP, and snapshot please!

thank you so much for patiently asking the long questions that I have!

You are very welcome, anon! Thank you for sending me more asks. You are definitely not bothering me! I love getting asks like this!

9. Was there anything from canon that you pulled for this fic?

I used Cinderella 2015 for TAP so some stuff I got from canon were: most of the characters (Thibault is the Captain in the movie but he didn't have a name so I just named him that), Kit having been to war, the idea that Kit has to marry for the betterment of the kingdom, Y/N being a commoner, and the setting (although it's not really that obvious because I didn't go much into world building with this fic.) I did get some dialogue from the movie, although I mixed them up and put them in the context that fits TAP. I took the essence of it, of marrying outside of the rank, and played around that a bit. I'm not saying they couldn't but I can't think of how a peasant girl could rule a kingdom armed with only love from her husband, the prince/king. That's why I made her a diplomat's daughter. She's not necessarily exposed to the workings of how to run a kingdom but she's been through a lot of different ones where she can draw inspiration from. She's still knowledgeable of it, which makes her a better candidate than a maid or peasant (sorry, Ella :/ )

21. What is something you didn't expect people to notice or gravitate towards in this fic?

I think this was answered in the previous ask but to reiterate, it was Louis. I never thought Louis would be someone the readers would come to love! He was meant to be just a side character but he's suddenly become this larger person inside the fic and I just went along with it. I'm so glad he's well-received! But in general, I didn't think the readers would actually love the story lmao Most of the fics I see being requested and read and shared are dark fics and smutty fics. TAP couldn't be dark and couldn't be smutty, especially since it was important that their marriage wasn't consummated, so I was surprised at the love it was getting. I didn't think something like this would actually have an audience (and I am thankful for each and every one who has read it!). I thought it was a dead fandom but I guess there are still some of us who love Prince Kit from Cinderella 2015.

26. Wild card! I'll tell you a fun fact(S) about this fic!

Snapshot: So, I wrote Snapshot because I literally cannot contain my admiration for Richard Madden. I was like a bubble waiting to burst when I started to write it. I just happened to be bored during my chemo sessions and I had this handful of free time that I didn't want to spend scrolling through social media so I started writing. I actually have no plot in mind for that story; it was just a blurb in my head but people wanted a second part to it. I did finish writing the second part in one day because of sheer excitement. Snapshot is just supposed to be a bit like "slice-of-life" piece of fic, where some days you don't really have anything going on. It's very milestone-y so any updates for that fic would be far in between, like life. About Oscars: it had been my plan to actually upload Oscars on the day of the Academy Awards (which I did) because I love coincidences. The idea for that was already forming the moment I finished writing ch5 of Snapshot.

Savior: Like Snapshot, when I first wrote ch1, I have no plot in mind. I just decided to go along the movie because it's a beautiful movie with a lot of layers that people seemed to miss because what they wanted was action and it wasn't as action-packed as any other ordinary superhero movie. It's a love letter to humanity and what else would better fit the embodiment of love than an angel. Speaking of love, I knew I wanted them to end up together but I didn't know how to do/show it. I think I did Angel and Ikaris a disservice when I had them almost kiss in ch4, instead of an organic progression in their story. I actually watched Eternals via a grainy French subbed copy. I could barely understand what was going on but when he yeeted himself to the sun at the end, I was so pissed. That was what prompted me to write Savior. Ikaris had a lot of room for redemption but it's too bad they went for a poetic ending. I'd like to think I like my story's ending better lmao And speaking of ending, I don't think Angel and Ikaris's story is ending soon. There's one plot I want to explore and only shared it with one person in this platform. I just wish I get the energy to write it lmao

TAP: Pride and Prejudice 2005 is my favorite movie of all time so it was partially inspired by that movie (esp that line of dialogue in ch5). When I was considering a love triangle, the movie was one of my primary research materials with Kit obviously being Mr. Darcy but I couldn't see Louis as a Wickham so I scratched that idea. I went with the poisoning instead because I was watching Poirot and Agatha Christie (the author of Hercule Poirot's stories) loved using poison as a plot device. Medici is also an inspiration (ep1 intro where Giovanni de Medici was poisoned with hemlock and Marco Bello going into the apothecary to investigate were a few of the scenes that I took from the show). You'd actually be surprised at the amount of research I do for the etymology and history and origin just for a particular word. I never write without having a dictionary and a thesaurus beside me. The words I mostly use couldn't be later than 1850's, or else they wouldn't fit the era I set TAP in (and I unintentionally set it during the years the Brothers Grimm were alive [See ch1 for that mistake lmao]) And I have never pored over research as much as I did with TAP! There are still mistakes, especially with the poisons and the thing about royalty, but so far, I'm happy with the outcome. It's a fairy tale, it's not meant to be perfect (no matter how much I try to convince myself of that lol).

#anon asks #richard madden x reader #snapshot fic #ikaris x reader #savior fic #prince kit x reader #the accidental princess fic #ask answered

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livia-dovehallow · 3 years

Note

Hi! Thanks for answering about requests, may I suggest something ? I was thinking about a scene in Coi timeline of when Gabriel had to deal with Thomas being accused of murder, and maybe adding also Gideons reaction to that, as it was a scene I really wanted to have read in Chain of Iron but sadly wasn't there.

Congrats on your celebration and happy bday!! Would you consider doing a fic when Thomas was arrested please? Like both Gabrily and Sophideon finding out

There were two of you who requested this exact scene so I thought, well I have to do it now! Please enjoy!

CHAIN OF IRON SPOILER WARNING

Family Above All - The Lightwoods

Characters: Thomas Lightwood, Gabriel Lightwood, Cecily Lightwood, Gideon Lightwood, Sophie Lightwood, Eugenia Lightwood, Maurice Bridgestock

Time: 1903, London, England

Thomas had had better days.

Granted, being arrested and accused of several gruesome murders was not a remote candidate for one of his better days, but he’d surprisingly remained calm. Bridgestock had taken too much pleasure in arresting him for something he had no situational understanding of but for Thomas, he had a long list of people who would look out for him. Of course, when his parents find out, they would jump to his defense in a heartbeat. But Thomas had another advantage as well—Aunt Cecily and Uncle Gabriel were currently running the Institute, and there was no way they would let Bridgestock try him for murder.

Thomas’s hopes were fulfilled when the doors of the Institute flew open and his aunt and uncle stood in the threshold with furious expressions directed at the Inquisitor. “What in Raziel’s name is going on here?” Uncle Gabriel demanded. His voice was thunderous and echoed in the entryway.

“Thomas Lightwood was found with the body of Lilian Highsmith, covered in her blood,” said Bridgestock, much too happily for speaking about a death of one of the most esteemed members of the Enclave. “We’ve caught the murderer and justice will be swiftly served for the families of the deceased.”

“Bollocks!” shouted Aunt Cecily, her voice just as thunderous and threatening as Uncle Gabriel’s had been. Thomas wondered if the Inquisitor knew that Aunt Cecily was not someone you wanted to displease. “Maurice, you cannot possibly believe that Thomas here is capable of something so horrendous.”

The Inquisitor did not flinch. So, he did not know not to anger Cecily Lightwood. “Your familial connection creates a conflict of interest in this case, Mrs. Lightwood,” Bridgestock said, annoyed. “It is best to let myself and the other members of the Council decide Thomas’s fate.”

Gabriel looked as if one of Christopher’s flammable experiments were about to erupt out of his ears. “It will be a cold day in Hell before I leave my nephew in the hands of someone without his best interest in mind,” he said sternly. “Until you come to us with cold, hard evidence of his guilt, Thomas’s name will not be announced to the Clave and he will remain here, in the Institute, is that understood?”

The Inquisitor looked furious, but Thomas had to admit that Uncle Gabriel had a point. There was no evidence other than being found. There was no weapon, no defensive wounds. “All right,” answered Bridgestock unhappily. “He will remain anonymous to those outside of the investigation. But, he will be under guard in the Institute Sanctuary until he can be tried under the Mortal Sword. Fair?”

Aunt Cecily took a step forward looking ready to swing her fist but Uncle Gabriel held her back, though he looked equally unhappy. “It is fair,” Thomas said suddenly. His aunt and uncle looked at him, their expressions easing to concern. “I will face the Mortal Sword. I am innocent and the Sword will prove my innocence. There are worse places to wait than the Sanctuary.”

“Splendid,” Bridgestock announced. He motioned the guards holding him to move toward the Sanctuary and Thomas followed, hoping he wouldn’t have to wait long.

The moment Thomas disappeared behind the hall to the Sanctuary, Gabriel and Cecily went into action. “I’ll call for my brother,” Cecily rushed, her face pinched in worry for their nephew. “Have him bring the Sword from Paris and be the one to question Thomas.”

Gabriel nodded, holding on to her hands tight. She could see the worry and fear filling her husband’s body. “I’ll call my brother, as well,” he said, his voice wavering in his attempt to remain calm. “They’ve been through too much. Damn Maurice for putting them through more heartache but there is no reason on earth Gideon and Sophie should not be here.”

Cecily released on of her hands from his grip and held it against his jaw. He relaxed in her touch, as he always did, and kissed her palm softly. “We’ll protect him,” she said confidently. He nodded without a word. “We are the co-heads of the Institute,” she added, lifting his head to meet her eyes. “We will protect Thomas.”

Gabriel smiled, ever so slightly, and squeezed her hand. “Marrying you was the best decision I ever made,” he thought aloud. Cecily smiled happily.

“Of course it was.”

The room closed in on Sophie Lightwood.

The words no mother should ever have to hear she had heard too many times. These were her children—her babies. She carried each one of them for nine months and brought them into the world surrounded in so much love. And yet—

Barbara is gone. Thomas has been arrested. Eugenia is ruined.

“Sophie.” Gideon’s voice was urgent in her ear, pulling her back into the present. His arms were around her tight. “Sophie, we must go. He needs us.”

Sophie nodded. Her son needs her. She must go to him. “Where is Genia?” she asked, her throat hoarse.

“I’m here, Mum,” came her daughter’s voice. Eugenia emerged from her bedroom with a fierce expression. “No one is getting to Tom if I have any say about it.”

Despite everything, Sophie smiled in relief at her daughter. Eugenia was strong and it eased much of Sophie’s worries (not all, of course. Once a mother always a mother). And her girls had always been protective of their younger brother, who was not so little anymore. She nodded at Eugenia and glanced up at Gideon. “Let’s go. We must see Tom.”

Thomas hissed at the sting from cut on his hands from the rough way the guards has fastened him to his seat. “Aunt Cecily, that hurts.”

She clicked her tongue at him and continued to dab away at the blood around his wrists. She insisted on checking for any dirt or infection in his wound—Bridgestock had prohibited any iratzes for him as his injuries were considered evidence. “I’ll hang that man for having you tied to a chair,” Aunt Cecily grumbled. Thomas fought an ill-timed smile but he was comforted with the knowledge that the adults in his life were looking out for him. And the knowledge that Aunt Cecily was fully capable of following through on her threats.

He had heard his father arguing with several members of the Council upstairs, but it was his mother’s and sister’s heels clicking against the stone floors that created the loudest sound in his ears. The door opened and they flooded in. Eugenia looked angry and carried her knife in her hand, which she had likely used to threaten the guard to let her in. His mother, on the other hand, looked as if she were about to cry. “Thomas,” she whispered desperately and rushed to him. Her hands were soft against his face. There were bags under her eyes that had been there ever since they lost Barbara and Thomas knew they would likely never go away. It pained him to see her like that—tired and heartbroken. “They haven’t hurt you, have they? Are you all right?”

“I’m okay, Mum,” he assured her in as comforting of a voice as he could muster. “Aunt Cecily is a very good caretaker.”

“With a wicked good right hook,” Eugenia mused. He could almost feel the smug grin their aunt gave her at that comment.

“I’m happy to see you Genie,” Thomas said to his sister suddenly. Eugenia seemed surprised, but pleased. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt more relieved to see you come at me with a knife.”

Sophie sighed in defeat and kneeled in front of him, still checking him over despite his insistence that he was not hurt. “We know it wasn’t you,” she told him. “Of course, it wasn’t you. You would never do such a thing. Your father has gone ballistic upstairs with your uncle over this and I have half a mind to march up there and join them.”

Thomas smiled. “I’m sure if you and Aunt Cecily paraded up there looking as angry as you do now, the Council will be frightened to tears.”

“As well they should be.” Aunt Cecily stood and wiped her hands on the skirt of her dress. She was still scowling, but her eyes showed her affection for him. She’d always looked out for his cousins with such fervor that it felt strange experiencing it for himself, but he was not surprised. His own mother had always told him that if he ever needed anything and he couldn’t reach her, that Aunt Cecily would help him as if he were her own child.

“Thank you, Aunt Cecily,” Thomas said to her. She smiled kindly at him. He turned back to his mother, who gazed at him with heartbreaking concern. “I’m all right, Mum. Truly.”

Sophie sniffed and tried her best to smile for him. Thomas wished she wouldn’t do that. “Hush,” she scolded him without malice. “Let your mother fuss over you. It is the one thing I can still do for my children that has no age limit.”

“You do plenty for us, Mum,” Eugenia offered in one of her softer tones. Her knife was still in her hand. “Tom is just like you. He’s looking out for everyone other than himself when he should be focusing on himself. Lucky for him, I am like Papa.”

Thomas scoffed, though it came out sounding more like a laugh, and their mother finally smiled ever so slightly. “Your uncle has convinced the Inquisitor to lockdown the Institute until Charlotte and Will return with the Mortal Sword. No curious onlookers will be poking around here. We’ll make sure of it.”

Aunt Cecily clapped her hands, looking pleased. “That man,” she said, delighted. “Reminds me why I married him every day. Come—let us go add fuel to the fire.” She gripped Sophie’s upper arm and lifted her from the floor at Thomas’s feet. She turned to Eugenia. “I trust you to guard the door?”

Eugenia smiled devilishly. “No one will get past me.”

Aunt Cecily winked—she had helped with much of Genia’s training—and tugged at Sophie’s arm. “Thomas will be all right. I promise. Aunt’s Honor.”

His mother rolled her eyes, but she went along with Aunt Cecily after hugging Thomas tight. “I love you,” she whispered in his ear.

“I know,” he had answered. “I love you, too, Mum.”

“This is idiotic,” Gideon demanded. He stood in the foyer of the Institute, behind locked doors that he would never be able to thank his brother enough for, staring down the Inquisitor with little hesitation. “You have known Thomas since he was an infant, Maurice. He has never done anything remotely like this in his life. You can’t possibly believe he’s killed all these people!”

Bridgestock was unbothered by Gideon’s outbursts. If anything, he looked simply annoyed that he had heard the same argument from various members of the Lightwood family. “Sentimentality and nepotism have no place in a murder investigation, Gideon,” he said roughly. Gideon thought he was less than a second away from knocking the daylights out of him. “I don’t care if he’s your son or not. He will be investigated.”

Clicks of heels sounded toward them; they were fast, determined. Gideon didn’t need to turn to know it was Sophie and Cecily, but he turned anyway to find her face red with anger. In no less than a moment was she at his side, her hand rising from her waist.

A loud, echoing slap filled the tense air. There was a moment of silence, in which the occupants of the foyer stood gaping, before Bridgestock’s face morphed into anger, his cheek turning a livid red. Nearly as quickly as his hand had come up to return the hit were Gideon and Gabriel’s hands on his wrist with an iron grip. “How dare you shackle my son to a chair and leave him bleeding,” Sophie seethed. She had not flinched. Sophie was hardly livid, but when she was, she was glorious and frightening. Gideon tightened his grip on Bridgestock’s wrist, forcing himself to hold back from snapping the bones into pieces for raising a hand to his wife.

“You arrest my son with no evidence, dare raise a hand to my wife, and now I learn you have shackled him without iratzes?” Gideon roared. He stepped closer to Bridgestock, his wrist still in his grip—Gabriel had let go long ago, though his gaze was thunderous—and hissed through his teeth: “Some man of the law you are.”

“Careful who you threaten,” warned the Inquisitor. He was annoyingly calm, testing even, with a pleased and self-satisfied glint in his eyes. “You may be at the Consul’s side, but it is I who dictate the Law, Lightwood.”

“And how long will that last—” interrupted Cecily. She stood at Gabriel’s side with her chin held high—“when Thomas states under the Mortal Sword that he is innocent? What explanation will you create to guard yourself from ridicule among the Council for being so certain of a case without evidence, dissolved with a single question under the Sword?”

The Inquisitor’s angry glare turned to Cecily, who stared him down right back. Gideon suppressed a smirk.

“Think twice before you say or do anything to my wife,” Gabriel warned.

Bridgestock angrily twisted his arm out from Gideon’s grip and took a step back. His eyes were still full of annoyance and anger. “It would do you both some good to control your women. Loose tongues lead to bad incidents.”

“Is that a promise?” Cecily wondered.

“It would do you some good to learn temperance and manners,” Gideon snapped. “Get out before I do something actually worth an arrest. Do not show your face to me again until Will returns with the Mortal Sword.”

Hope you enjoyed :’) || @tsccreatorsnet

#maggie answers #kind anons #request #chain of iron spoiler #coi spoilers #thomas lightwood #gideon lightwood #sophie lightwood #sophie collins #gabriel lightwood #cecily herondale #cecily lightwood #eugenia lightwood #the last hours #tsc #tlh #chain of iron

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morganaspendragonss · 3 years

Text

The Broken Soul of TK Strand (1/?)

so, that bonus fic i mentioned. i cannot take credit for it - it is a translation of 'la esencia rota de tk strand' by road1985, which in turn was inspired by my fic, 'out, damned spot'

i am so grateful to the original author for not only taking the time to write something based on one of my works, but also for allowing me to discuss the plot with her and translate it into english, especially when i am still learning her language. the only thing of this that is mine is the translation, and i sincerely apologise for any mistakes on this front 💚

ao3 | 3k | hurt tk, worried carlos, rituals, kidnapping, angst and hurt/comfort

The man leaned out from the alley and watched the scene. He had spent so much time preparing, he had carefully chosen the victim from many candidates weeks ago, and now it had all gone to shit because of a cigarette and some curtains embroidered by an old woman for her grandson.

He liked the fire. It was erratic, unpredictable, and powerful, just like his Lord, just as he himself aspired to be.

He watched the flames and longed to get closer, to touch them and know first hand the home of his master. But he still wasn’t prepared; he was missing one more sacrifice, the last one. He just needed one more soul, and then the doorway to hell would be open for him.

But it wasn’t just any soul he needed; he couldn’t choose the first stranger who crossed his path. That would be too easy - his Lord had told him so in dreams. To open the door to hell, he had to find pure souls which were close to the dark side, good souls that had been through horrible experiences and whose pain could be extracted together with their body’s vital liquid.

With each one of the souls he had already extracted, he had improved the ritual a little more. It was becoming cleaner, more discrete, and it seemed that the police still hadn’t found the other three bodies. With luck, he would finish the ritual before that happened.

But because everything couldn’t be perfect, the fire had ruined his plans.

He had spent days researching the people living in that building. All of them had problems, but David Archings was his target. An orphan and divorced, it was said that his parents died because of him, and this had destroyed his marriage even though the police found no proof. Now he lived alone in a small flat where no-one ever visited him.

He was a sad man, consumed by grief, and few would miss him.

But the fire had taken him before he could do anything, and this delayed his plans.

Or not.

Whilst he watched the flames consuming the building, the firefighters arrived. They worked quickly and in a matter of minutes, the fire was under control and almost extinguished.

He hated these people who always destroyed the work of his Lord. Who were they to put out the flames of the kingdom of darkness?

On more than one occasion, he had thought out teaching the firefighters a lesson, showing that that they weren’t and never would be stronger than the power of his master.

But there were always so many of them, always with police involved. For someone who enjoyed going unseen and carrying out assignments quickly, it would be too complicated and too much work to hurt them.

Despite everything, that night, the cards played a very different hand, one which could solve all his problems.

In that first moment, he didn’t know why he noticed the young paramedic, but there had been something about that that caught his attention. He had a special aura, which changed from dark to light and dark again, depending on the moment.

It was easy to focus on him. If men interested him, he would say that he was truly attractive. If he were searching for a pretty face, there was no doubt that the boy had it. He didn’t know him at all, but he could tell that he had a sad smile which hid fear and regrets - exactly the kind of darkness that he wanted and needed.

“TK,” an older man said, one of the firefighters who, judging by the resemblance, was clearly his father. “We couldn’t have done anything even if we had arrived earlier.”

“I know, but I can’t get the idea out of my head that it was my fault we got here late.”

“It could have happened to anyone.” The older man put a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “You are one of the best firefighters I know, and now one of the best paramedics. We all have the right to make mistakes sometimes.”

The man began to see some of the darkness he needed for the ritual, but he needed more.

Another man, a police officer, came closer to the young man and opened his arms. The firefighter buried himself in them and the officer kissed his head. It was obvious that they were a couple; they weren’t hiding that they were together, and there was a great love between them. The officer was worried for the paramedic - it almost seemed like it had been taken from a romantic novel.

“Ty, your father is right. You shouldn’t blame yourself for what happened. Tommy said that the man was dead before you got here.”

“I know, but I always think that it’s not fair, that things could have gone another way.”

The man smiled; the paramedic blamed himself for these two deaths but it was easy to see that he carried more guilt inside him.

“When these things happen, I remember what happened to me. If it hadn’t been for my dad always worrying about me, I wouldn’t be here right now.”

“That’s a thing of the past and, look, thanks to it, you are here. Have you thought about it that way?” The police officer kissed him and they hugged again before leaving.

It was incredible. He had only thought about taking a soul who was close enough to what he needed. But that paramedic who had been a firefighter, that TK, was exactly what he needed. He was a broken soul, an aged vase in danger of shattering into a million pieces. A firefighter, perfect for punishing those meddlers, and, further, in a relationship with a police officer.

But he was surrounded by people and in the middle of a shift; he wouldn’t be able to take him that night. His master had taught him to have patience, so he let him go, taking note of the firefighters’ station number, so he knew where he worked.

The idea that he would have the soul he was sure was the perfect subject excited him greatly. He didn’t want any mistakes or to find him with a perfect family at home, so he decided to wait and do things right.

TK didn’t sleep well that night. They returned to the station after the fire, but he needed time to get to sleep and he woke up many times. When he finally did manage to sleep, he had nightmares about the idea that they could have saved those two strangers.

It wasn’t his fault, not directly at least, but if he had been ready earlier, if he hadn’t forgotten to replace the bandages in the ambulance, they would have arrived on time. Maybe then things would have turned out differently. He couldn’t be sure of course, but the nightmares did nothing but tell him just that.

He got up. Everything was still; with a little bit of luck nothing else would happen and they could finish the shift calmly and go home. But this didn’t make him feel any better, so he made himself a tea - if he had a coffee he wouldn’t be able to sleep a wink - and left the station. There were barely any buildings around it, so there was always a beautiful view of the sky.

A little while ago, they had placed some deck chairs on the small back patio and TK sat on one, with a blanket around his shoulders as it was a cool night. He drank the tea slowly as he watched the stars; they never changed, no matter what happened below. Whether people lived or died, the stars remained unshakeable and, in a certain way, this comforted him.

He liked the idea that there were things that couldn’t be changed, things that always happened in a certain way and, as much as he or anyone tried, it couldn’t change.

He closed his eyes - maybe he would be able to sleep out here, and in the worst case, he would catch a cold and spend a couple of days in bed with Carlos. That didn’t sound bad at all. TK drank the last drop of the tea and tried to relax; he had almost managed it when a noise at his back grabbed his attention.

It sounded like a crack, like branches breaking or something similar. He got up and peered into the darkness but there was no-one there and nothing moved. The sound returned, a little closer; maybe it was a wounded animal or one that was trying to get into the station’s trash in search of food.

“Hello?” TK called, only to feel like an idiot a second later; he already knew that there was no-one there.

He headed towards the trash cans but there was nothing there, and he sighed in relief - he would not have wanted a pissed-off raccoon to throw itself at him. TK turned around, but a dark figure, wearing a large coat or cape that didn’t even show a centimetre of skin, appeared in front of him.

“Who are you?” he asked, taking a step back and throwing two of the dumpsters to the floor.

He received no response other than seeing the gleaming edge of a knife the man had taken from under his clothes as he approached him.

The station lights turned on - throwing the dumpsters had raised the alarm. The stranger turned - he wouldn’t be able to do what he wanted, but before Paul and Judd arrived, he used the knife against him. TK raised his arm in defence and shouted at the sensation of the blade cutting his skin. He stumbled backwards and fell to the floor, but no-one was there save for his friends running towards him.

“TK, are you okay? What happened?”

He looked around him, but the stranger had already managed to disappear. “Where did he go?”

“Who? Hey, that cut looks bad,” Judd said, helping him to his feet.

“There was someone here, he attacked me with a knife.”

Owen and the others arrived a moment later, and searched the station, but found no-one. Judd pushed TK to go back inside so that Tommy could treat his arm.

“It’s not a deep cut, but it has nicked a couple of veins so it looks worse than it is,” his captain said as she finished bandaging his arm. “You said that a hooded stranger did this? It’s possible that you tripped and cut it on glass or a broken bottle.”

“There was someone in front of me, he had a knife.”

“Something tells me that the fire today affected you a lot,” Owen said behind him. “Captain Vega, don’t you think it would be a good idea for him to go home and rest?”

“No! I’m fine, really. That man attacked me and then disappeared.”

But they forced him to go home.

Carlos was waiting for him; he had been asleep but he always left the sound on his phone in case anything happened to TK. Judd had called him and told him what had happened and that TK had been put in a car home.

He met him at the door, barely having time to prepare himself before TK was hugging him.

“I’m not crazy, babe, and the fire didn’t affect me so much that I’m having hallucinations of people attacking me.”

“Shhh, I know. I know you’re not crazy.” Carlos left kisses on TK’s forehead and cheek, and did the same when he took his hands, kissing the palms and the back as he led him to the sofa. “You need to sleep and relax. We’ll talk about it tomorrow.”

“But…”

“But nothing, baby. Sleep, and I’ll stay awake so no-one else tries to hurt you.”

TK wasn’t sure if Carlos believed him or not, but he always felt safe in his arms. He let go and, without bothering to change his clothes, curled up next to Carlos on the sofa. He sighed, feeling his arms surrounding him, and closed his eyes.

They were all right about something - between the last shift and what had happened by the dumpsters, he was exhausted and needed sleep, so it wouldn’t hurt to do it.

When he woke up, Carlos was still awake, reading. By the yawn he gave, it was clear that he had fulfilled his promise and not slept all night.

“Are you feeling better?”

TK looked at his arm, hoping that what had happened the previous night had been a dream. But the bandage was still there.

He nodded. It was stupid to think that someone wanted to hurt him, or that they’d wait around the station until dawn to do it. Maybe it was true, maybe he had had a nightmare about the fire and ended up cutting himself with glass, like Tommy had said.

The kiss to his cheek brought him back to reality.

“Should I make breakfast?”

“We could do it together?” TK offered, but Carlos clicked his tongue and laughed. “Okay, sorry, what I meant is that you make breakfast and I’ll lend a hand.”

“Perfect.” With another kiss to the forehead, Carlos circled his waist and made him get up. He looked happy, with that warm, perfect smile that made TK feel as if nothing could go wrong. “What’s up? Why are you looking at me like that?” Carlos asked.

TK shook his head and the smile returned. His arm didn’t hurt and the fear of the hooded stranger disappeared all at once. He took Carlos’s hand to go to the kitchen and they spent the next hour making a breakfast that, between laughs, games, caresses, and a round of sex on the kitchen island, ended up more on them instead of being eaten.

“Happy anniversary,” Carlos whispered in TK’s ear, feeling the fast beat of his heart.

“Oh, are you serious? We’ve been together for a year today?”

“You forgot, right?”

“Babe, I’m so sorry, I… No, I did forget, but I’ll make it up to you.”

Carlos took off his flour-covered shirt and gave him a quick kiss. “You don’t have to, don’t worry,” he said, before heading to the bathroom.

“Carlos, babe, wait.” TK tugged at him. “Everything’s been so perfect with you. And it’s gone so fast too. When we started dating for real, I didn’t want to give myself hope that we would last and I decided to take it day by day. I was always scared that…”

Carlos took his face in both hands. “I’m not Alex, nor could I ever be Alex.” He never lost his smile; even now that he was hurt, he kept smiling and kissing TK. “And I’m going to be here, with you, forever. I love you, Ty. I love you so much, so I’m going to carry on as if I hadn’t heard anything, and I’ll wait for you at the precinct at six tonight so we can celebrate our anniversary.”

“Okay, though what we just did…”

“That was just the appetiser. Babe, you have no idea what I have prepared for tonight.”

TK worked that shift like normal, though every once in a while, he looked at his arm. He’d convinced himself that it was impossible that someone would have attacked him. Why go to the station to hurt him? Why him? It didn’t make sense.

Luckily, the shift was quiet and it enabled him to rest; they only went on one call and the rest of the day, Tommy and his father both told him to take it easy. But now that he wasn’t thinking about the fire, he couldn’t get out of his head how bad Carlos must be feeling after TK forgot their anniversary.

He had to do something, to somehow make it up to him.

“Can I leave a little early today?” he asked Captain Vega, before telling her everything that had happened.

“Go, buy him something pretty - forgetting the first anniversary is very serious.”

He had studied the area, parking the car somewhere that wouldn’t appear suspicious, but also a place where he could see the soul he lacked.

His blood was perfect; the ritual he had done last night had been a success, and its taste was exquisite. Now all that was left was to take him and prepare him for the final ritual.

He had decided to wait until his shift was over, but there was no doubt that fate was helping him, as he saw him leave two hours early. He got out of the car, seeing him put in his headphones, and raised his hood to avoid the wind.

“Hey, TK!” a voice behind them said, the only thing that hadn’t gone as he expected, the only thing that made him improvise.

He hid the syringe he carried in his jacket pocket and, gripping tightly to the iron bar he’d found nearby, hit his victim in the head.

TK fell to the floor, sounds reverberating around him, barely able to see anything other than white lights.

“He’s already left,” said another voice inside the station.

“I’m… I’m here. Help,” TK breathed, his voice barely there. Even that was painful as he watched the stranger, the same from the previous night, approached him with an iron bar in his hand. “Dad… Judd… Please.”

“For the return of the Great Dark Lord,” said the other man, closing the gap that separated him from TK. He knelt in front of him and placed the iron on his chest. “For the Lord of the Dark to walk the earth, you will give your life, your blood, and your soul. You are the fourth chosen. The fourth cardinal point to mark his return.”

“Please, you’re wrong… I’m not the one you’re looking for.”

“You are. Soon you will see.”

Before TK could say anything else, a second blow to his head left him sprawled on the ground, like a broken toy.

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