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#hope you can find something you like in it anyway!
reiderwriter · 2 days
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🔐 Password Protected 🔐
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader
For the CM Kink Bingo Challenge 2024
Requested: "Hii Kacie, may I put in a request of a NSFW prompt? Any plotline or back story is fine I trust your talent :"> Reader's boobs/asscheeks recoill during sex turning Spencer on even more "I wish you could have my view right now" he grabs the phone to open the camera app."
Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, DubCon Hidden camera, dry humping, free use, soft to hard Dom!Spencer, sub! Reader, creampie, unprotected sex, slight breeding kink, implied oral sex, implied bondage, implied somno, pictures/ photos, degradation (slut, whore etc,) and pet names (Princess, sir, angel etc,), nipple play/torture, multiple orgasms.
A/N: Here's my second fic for the CM Kink Bingo 2024~♡ I'm definitely all over the board now, so who knows if I'I hit bingo this year, Imao? Anyways, I hope you enjoy~ And to my dear friend :"^ anon - thank you for your inspiring request.
Masterlist || Bingo Board
With a glorious lull in cases to close over the summer, the biggest mystery in the BAU was “What's in the locked folder on Spencer's phone?” 
The man had made the (technologically inept) mistake of leaving his new phone unlocked on his desk in a bullpen full of criminal profilers. To say you'd all descended like vultures to a fresh carcass was putting it extremely lightly.
“What apps does he have? Five dollars says there's a dictionary app,” Emily joked, leaning over Morgan's shoulder to try and catch a glimpse of the screen. You were similarly perched at his other shoulder. 
“He can probably recite the dictionary himself, and I don't think he'd know how to download apps,” you scoffed, scrolling up in the phone yourself to the app page. 
“There's got to be something good in the camera roll, right?” Morgan said, clicking into it to find some dirt on the much too innocent Spencer Reid. Which is where you'd found quaint pictures of the sky, some pages from a book and the folder. 
The one with a little lock on it signalling the boundary. Spencer had figured out how to use a locked folder - you'd be impressed if you weren't so curious about what was inside. 
“Placing bets, people? My money is on work documents,” Morgan chuckled, losing interest swiftly in the phone and pressing it into your hands. “It's not like the kid has a lot going on romantically, right?”
You kept your mouth shut as the others nodded in agreement. While Spencer Reid may not have anything romantic going on officially, he definitely had something sexual going on. You'd been in his bed five of the last six days, losing count on the amount of times he'd fucked you into oblivion, using your body as freely as he wished, cumming inside of you to finish before washing off all traces of your coupling and cuddling upto you as you slept. 
It wasn't quite a relationship, but dear god, did you never want it to end. You hadn't been so satisfied, so fulfilled (emphasis on the filled) in a long time. 
“What are you doing with my phone?” You heard Spencer question from behind you, and you turned, trying to mask your embarrassment. You really didn't want him to think you were some obsessive not-girlfriend going through his messages, and almost dropped the phone like it was a bomb when your eyes met his. 
“We were just debating what you could possibly have to hide in your gallery’s locked folder,” Emily laughed, clapping the man on the back and smiling up at him. “Help me win $20 and tell Morgan here that you made it accidentally and don't know the password.” 
“Hey, I didn't agree to any bet yet,” Morgan laughed, kicking his feet up on his desk. 
“Only because you know you're wrong.” 
They bickered just long enough to let Spencer take a step closer to you, slipping the phone easily out of your hand and back into his pocket. His voice was low, his mouth close to his ear when he finally sated your curiosity. 
“I think you may want to distract them from this topic, Y/N. I don't think you'll like it if they demand to see what kind of pictures and…videos I have in that folder.” 
His tone wasn't suggestive, but it still lit a fire in your belly with the implication alone. You'd warmed his bed for long enough to know that you were the only one sharing it, but you didn't remember him taking any pictures or videos of you. Shit, had you been so desperate that you'd completely blanked him capturing a folders worth of images of you servicing his cock? 
You took the hunt and stepped away from him, picking up a file quickly and glancing over it before turning to Emily. Distracting them with work was the only way to keep them off the scent and distract you must.
Even if it did mean you were inconvenienced with curiosity and lust for the rest of the day. 
When you finally finished work, you practically hammered down Spencer's door, trying to get answers to questions he'd left hung in the air earlier. You were a visual learner, so you dearly hoped he'd answer by simply just showing you what you'd missed. 
“Y/N,” he said, opening the door with a sweet smile, drawing you into the apartment with a slow, honeyed kiss. You felt him smile into you, his touch chaste enough around your arms to still your beating heart. You languished in the kiss as he pulled you on closer, shutting the door behind you as he opened you up to him, pulling you further under his spell than usual. 
“I'm so happy to see you,” he said once he'd pulled away, feathering his touch across your waist, settling his hands in the crook just under your breasts, stroking the bottom of them with his thumbs. You were suddenly glad the man's hands were so large, sure that this one interaction was heaven on earth. 
He almost distracted you from your purpose for coming here. 
Pulling you to the sofa in his living room, Spencer pushed back a strand of hair, hooking it behind your ear as he let you straddle him  wrapping your arms around his neck, your head falling comfortably onto his shoulder as you inhaled his scent. 
“I'm not complaining that you're here, or anything, Y/N,” he said, hands roaming your body and stroking your ass as he spoke. “But did you have something to say? You didn't message before coming.” 
You lifted your head to look him in the eyes before looking away out of embarrassment. 
“Earlier, you…” you started, tongue going dry as he tightened his grip on your ass. He shifted slightly under you and you realized he was grinding his leg up into your clothed pussy as you spoke. 
“Yes?” 
“Your phone…the locked folder, I want to see what's inside.” 
You were sure that he knew already what you wanted before you'd even arrived, but he just smiled at you again, almost too kindly. 
“That's my private business, Y/N. Why should I let you see it?” He asked, looking good a finger under your jaw to make you look him in the eye once more. 
“I th-think… I think there are videos. Of me. I'd like to see them.” 
“Where are your manners?” 
“Please, sir,” you whispered, tipping your head forward, begging him for a kiss. “Please show me the videos.” 
He huffed out a quick laugh and gave you one last peck on the lips before he pushed you off. You sat on the floor between his legs, a position you were so used to being in by now that you wouldn't be surprised to find multiple shots of you sat like this, lips wrapped around his cock, pussy grinding on his shoes. Even the thought of such pictures had you wanting to recreate those memories, you weren't sure what a folder worth is going to do. 
Stretching over to his coffee table, Spencer picked up the discarded phone and unlocked it, flipping through some pages before looking down at you again. 
Stroking your hair, Spencer neatly arranged it before wrapping the same hand he'd been using g around your neck and pulling you gently upwards. You landed back in his lap, but he'd turned you around this time. Instead of straddling him, your back was pressed to his chest, your legs on either side of one of his. He released your neck, instead pushing his hands between your thighs so you couldn't push them together for relief - he already knew your body so well. 
“Is this what you're curious about, Y/N?” He said, finally flashing you the phone screen. The first picture was obviously taken post-sex, and you recognised his bed sheets quickly. Your face hung off the end of his bed, eyes shut as his cum painted your lips, cheeks and eyes, lips parted in a lusty moan. From the angle it was taken at, you could see your breasts swell and your hand disappear between your legs as well, stroking yourself to release.
“Shit,” you moaned, pussy clenching on nothing as it begged for relief. With a hand on your hip, Spencer started encouraging you to rock back and forward, humping his leg as he whispered in your ear. 
“You didn't know about that one because your eyes were covered in my cum. It turned me on more knowing you had no clue I was going to jack off to it later as well.” 
He scrolled to the next image, and in this one too, you seemed unaware of the camera. Your hands were tied to the headboard, and he was fucking you from behind, the shot capturing his creamy dick pulling out of you and the discarded condom on the bed beside you. 
“That was the day we learned how much more you enjoyed being filled with cum than you enjoyed condoms,” he said, scrolling to the next picture. 
“And here's your first creampie,” he said, his spare hand pushing under your shirt, fingers clamping down on one nipple as you shuddered. 
Your pace was faster now, desperately thrusting up and down his thigh. Even through your skirt and panties, you felt your wetness against his pants, knowing you'd be punished later for such unladylike behaviour. 
As if Spencer had ever wanted you to act like a lady. He knew you were a slut and he enjoyed it. 
“The next one is a video,” he said, moving his hand to your other breast and slapping it as you moaned above him. “Do you think you can handle it?” 
“Y-Yes, Sir. Please let me see it, sir.” 
“Okay, but not a fucking noise out of you. I want to hear your screams from the video.” 
You could only silently groan in reply, nodding quickly as he scrolled and pressed play. 
This one was recent, maybe one or two nights ago. You recognised the outfit you'd partially discarded, the shirt that had been ripped open. 
How had you possibly not seen the camera pointed straight at you? 
In the video, his cock was pressed into you, fucking you at a pace most would call violent  but you called heavenly. The focus wasn't on your pussy taking his cock, though, but on your boobs, recoiling and jumping with every thrust. His other hand pressed to your stomach, feeling himself sheathed there, as you moaned desperately. 
“Spen…Spen-sher,” you tripped over your tongue, slurring the words as if you'd been drugged. Your eyelids were heavy, eyes practically rolling back in your head as his hand on your stomach tightened. 
“I think I fucked your brain out, baby,” he laughed deeply, cock not relenting even one second. 
“Your tits looked so perfect,” the Spencer of the present said, pressing the phone into your hand as he grabbed each nipple and tugged them forward, leaving you gasping. 
“And you didn't even realize I was filming it all. I could've done anything to you, anything at all, and you wouldn't have cared. You'd have enjoyed it, and I'd have had the proof.” 
You were soaked now, humping deliriously against his thigh, like a puppy experiencing their first heat, desperate for this feeling to go away and for it to stay and intensify all the same. 
“You were acting so stupid. At one point, I even got you to say hello to the camera, and you didn't remember a thing an hour later.” 
Releasing one breast, he swiped one more time to the left, and you saw the beginning of another video. 
Hitting the play button, his hands returned to your chest, this time pushing up your top and bra and freely clamping down on the nipples as hard as he could. 
What intrigued you the most about this last video was the start. Unlike the pictures and the videos, you weren't in the middle of sex at the beginning of this video at all. 
You were instead laid with your back to the camera - to Spencer - a leg thrown over some unfamiliar sheets. This wasn't his bed. This wasn't yours either. 
Another minute of grinding against his leg, and you recognised the motel room from your last case. 
“Spencer, wh-” 
“Watch and see, princess.” 
The bed creaked under his weight as he climbed in behind you, removing the duvet covers from your body, replacing it with his hands. He made similarly swift work of your pajamas, only bothering to push them down to your knees before pulling out his cock and slowly pushing into you. 
If you weren't so close to another orgasm, you'd probably be shocked that Spencer had invaded your personal space and started fucking you as you slept. But that's what it meant to be his little free use slut. You allowed him access to you anywhere, anytime (including the motel room you'd given him the spare key for) and in return he dropped as many loads of his cum into your pussy as would fit there. 
Watching yourself get violated in your sleep was the last of what you needed to push over the edge. 
You grabbed Spencer's arm, gasping, and you felt him trail kisses along your neck and shoulders. 
“That's it, baby, just hold on a second while I…” he pulled the phone out of your grasp, opening yet another familiar looking app. 
You looked at the screen and found your own bare chest heaving staring back at you. He clicked the red button and forced it back into your hands as he began abusing your tits again. 
“Show the camera, Y/N. Show them how you get yourself off on my leg.” 
You complied, lifting the phone slightly to get the best view of your chest, heaving up and down as you humped his thigh into oblivion. 
Your cunt twitched and you felt fluids rushing out of you, even as your arms trembled. But you didn't let them falter  holding g up the phone to capture every second of your climax, knowing its exactly what he would want. 
“You're perfect, you know that Y/N,” he said, finally kissing the top of your head and pulling the phone out of your grasp as he saved the video into the file you'd been browsing. 
His gentleness was short-lived, though, as he pushed you off his lap and back to the floor. As you caught your breath, ass up on the floor, he took the opportunity to slip his dick out of his pants, and began stroking it up and down, inspecting your pussy with his free fingers. 
“I'll give you five seconds to get ready for the next round,” he said, and you panicked, lifting your legs off the floor. You weren't strong enough, though, or maybe you just didn't want to move. He kept counting down. 
“4….3….2…1,” you heard the predatory grin in his voice as he pushed his foot onto your head, holding your cheek to the floor with one leg. 
“As you wish then, my little slut.” He moved his foot away quickly and pushed inside of you, and your last coherent thought was of the folder again, and how long he'd make you wait to see the video you were about to shoot. 
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azullumi · 2 days
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LAST NIGHT I DREAMT OF THE STARS AND YOU, PT. 1
premise — because that’s just how they are; alternatively, “the type to” trend with hsr characters. characters — ruan mei, veritas ratio, aventurine, and robin content tags — gender-neutral reader, established relationship, fluff, slight angst, not proofread, word vomit in some parts, 1.6k words ; headcanons
note from me — seasickness took me out and the fact that i have a 9 hr road trip tomorrow is already making me dizzy. i hope i’m asleep for the 3/4 of it,, also this has a pt. 2 which i’ll upload later on !! anyways i wrote this in between my vacation and trip and in between the long-ass separate fics with sunday and aven so sorry if it seems rusty or out of my style 🙏
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RUAN MEI, (lies in between the line of a good lover and a bad lover) the type to be unable to express her affections for you through words and settles with small and simple gestures that she has observed and seen from everyone around her; having never understood “love” and never knowing how to correspond with such, she’s left silent and confused like a lost child in the wake of it. She’ll find herself staring you quietly, memorizing the lines of your face and how it creases and contorts into different expressions, studying each crevices and edges of the parts that makes up your being to bury you in her memory, and there’s a smile that tugs on her lips every time her gaze falls on you. Oh, she wishes she understood what it all meant (she simply and devastatingly adores you).
RUAN MEI, the type to subconsciously write your name on paper whenever she’s distracted. it’s a small habit she does, one that makes her smile whenever she notices the letters spelling out your name. She has ruined, tainted several of her papers, even important ones, with just a single word, a set of letters that composes of what makes warmth seep into her chest when her mind drifts into the thought of someone—you.
RUAN MEI, the type not understand the underlying reason behind her actions—why she spends the time and makes the effort in between her busy schedule and pile of papers to make sweets for you, why she lets you do her hair despite how messy it often turns out when you braid it and how she can never find the strength in herself to “fix” or disturb the state of your work, why she always seek for the warmth of your hands whenever she’s feeling uneasy or stressed, why she always lean to your shoulder or to your touch when you caress her cheek, and everything. It’s a puzzle board of missing and scattered pieces, unable to comprehend the full image of the mystery—and yet, she still delves into the enigma of her feelings that is intertwined with your existence. Maybe one day she’ll come to know it all and maybe it will be the time when she can finally be honest to herself.
VERITAS RATIO, the type to want to know every single thing you and remember all of it. Perhaps it’s the bare minimum, perhaps it’s something that he just does. “They don’t like that,” He would say when an arrogant fool would even try to give you (or do) something, and he’s there, witnessing it all, knowing the things that you prefer and like. He knows what flowers that you like, knows your favorite color, knows the way you prefer to sleep, knows the small habits that you do when you’re nervous or scared or happy, knows every little detail that paints the whole of your existence. Isn’t it simply just lovely when someone desires to know you from the inside and out? Even if it’s just a little bit, he feels more closer to you in this way.
VERITAS RATIO, the type to be sweet and reassuring towards you (through words and actions), even though he may come off as mean, blunt, or rude towards others. Sure, he may call you an idiot sometimes but he’ll never go past that nor reach the line of degrading and distasteful remarks because he never wishes to hurt your feelings; if ever he did, he’ll apologize and tell you it’s not his intention. “Fool,” But the affection that edges into the tone of his voice cuts the thread of disdain that sews into the word. Oftentimes when texting and it’s easy to misunderstand the tone of one’s message, especially his tone, he’ll reassure you that he didn’t send it in a way that he’s angry or scornful: “The ‘Ok’ that I sent is not a mad ‘Ok’, I am in a rush and could only type that out. I’m not angry.”
VERITAS RATIO, the type to entertain your questions no matter how stupid it can be; he’d give you the answers every single time. He doesn’t mind being treated like a walking encyclopedia or dictionary if it’s you—he’d hate it if you were going to ask someone else instead of him (although he probably never told you that discomfort). I mean, you have a well-known member of the Intelligentsia Guild, someone who parallels a genius, just right at the tip of your fingertips, why bother asking someone else?
AVENTURINE, the type to like listening to the sound of your breathing, the sound of your heartbeat (to listen to the sound of you blinking, to listen to your hands soothe). It’s comforting, in an odd way, and he never tells you but it helps him fall asleep—watching the rising and falling of your chest, seeing your calm face wrinkle ever so often while you sleep. He keeps the sound of your heartbeat close to the pocket on his chest, weaving the rhythm of it to his pulse, and before he knew it, the dawn will come in quiet solitude.
AVENTURINE, the type to be always on fight-or-flight mode. Perhaps it’s the way that he grew up, perhaps it was the harsh and cruel environment that he’s in, but he’s always on guard, seemingly on defensive mode as if danger lurks at every dark corner. His shoulders are always tense, his hand either hidden or playing with the ring on his finger, it’s like he never can’t seem to relax himself even when he’s in the comfort of your arms. It follows him everywhere, trailing behind his feet, and forces him awake at night—he doesn’t even know where the fear, the anxiety, is coming from, he just knows it’s there. One wrong step and his thoughts will come crashing down like cold downpour, one wrong move and you’ll come to leave him. Sometimes a little reassurance comes a long way and it’s all he needs when his mind is being tormented. (He will learn to live with it, even if he can never seem to understand or know it. He will come to know peace as if it’s all he had in his hands when the sun first held him).
AVENTURINE, the type to immediately smile after a kiss. It’s utterly affectionate; parting, staring deeply into one’s eyes with his cheeks dusted with a certain color and he’s grinning—warmth beams from his expression and there’s a certain feeling that intertwines into his gaze and he knows it’s love because it’s all he feels whenever he looks at you. He’s the type to laugh into a kiss, feeling ticklish all over his bones as if your hands are ghosting the sensitive parts of his skin, and you’ll ask him, “What?” but he’ll only answer with, “Nothing.” He’s not drunk, the ache of wanting simply swells up in his chest and all he can think of is how much he adores you.
ROBIN, the type to try and make time for you. Her schedule is always packed, filled with all kinds of events and tasks that she needs to do. It’s overwhelming, everything feels overwhelming for her and it’s hard to know which one she should prioritize first not when she has a lot of things on her hands. Sometimes she feels lost, feels the weight too heavy on her shoulders, feels like her feet are tied to the ragged earth, feels the cage closing on her. She tries so hard to be the perfect lover for you, to become someone that will reach beyond your expectations; she cradles that perfect image, broken in all of its edges, that were constructed for herself close to her chest even if it feels like a knife to her heart. But really, all you need is for her to be herself (not the star that everyone admires and wishes to reach) and sometimes, that’s all she needs to hear from you—that she doesn’t have to hold on to the shattered chains when the coldness of the metal reminds her of what she has to carry.
ROBIN, the type to go on all kinds of dates with you, silly or not, and even matches clothes with you. She’s usually the one to make the invite to match, thinking that it’s cute and the both of you rarely ever has time like this so why not make the most out of it; who are you to even say no when she’s beaming at you so warmly? She has all of her options laid on the bed, displayed on clothing hangers, asking you what you’re going to wear or what color do you want. It’s lovely, sweet, seeing her like this and you could only pray to whoever aeon is listening that nobody comes to ruin the day the both of you rarely have for each other.
ROBIN, the type to bring you all kinds of souvenirs and gifts from her (universal) tours, sometimes having bought too much that you don’t know what to with some of them; the type to send you letters every time she’s away so that you won’t worry for he, especially knowing what happened last time, the type to always try to keep in touch and keep you close no matter the stars between you and her. She’ll ask for one thing that you own that she can carry with her person, making a promise that she’ll come back and return it—the item a testament to her vow—, but for the meantime, she’ll keep it so she has a little piece of you everywhere she goes and she can say that you’re always there by her side.
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DRUM ROLLS PLS *dundundundundun* special mention to the one and only beloved feli @dr-felitas !! i think i owe you a lot of end notes so here i am :3 also i’m sorry if i publish this and i still haven’t responded to your messages (if you have sent me cause im on dnd to avoid my dumbass from checking and looking at the phone during car rides knowing that i get motion sick) ANYWAYS i would like to begin this with i love you mwamwa, you’re one of the sweetest and most wonderful souls i have ever met and anyone who tells u otherwise will get a boulder thrown to their head 🫵 im glad to have met you, that my anti-social ass went ahead and messaged you despite the fact that we only talked once or twice AND IT WAS OVER ASKS OR COMMENTS BUT YEAH !! idk what or where i’ll be if i hadn’t done that; maybe not replying to my friends idk (again im sorry if i take business days to answer i sometimes get busy or i sometimes dont have the energy :3 i hope u still love me hahahaha… *slides down the wall*) again, i really appreciate and adore you for everything. you are a brave and kind person and i only hope for the good things for you. don’t be too mean or harsh to yourself 🫂 know that i’m always here to listen to you no matter what you’re saying. you’re never a burden to me and i hope you’ll come to see just how you shine and radiate with so much warmth and kindness, it’s like love itself is found in you. ily lottss mwaa <33
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sunday, himeko, welt, gallagher, and jing yuan next !!
© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.
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ebodebo · 3 days
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summary: ghost is being chased by the police and just so happens to be sleeping with one of them. of course, she doesn't know that the man she's been sleeping with is also the man her department has been trying to find, but he does.
pairing: ghost x f!reader
word count: 2k+
a/n: THE VOICES DON'T STOP anyways i lowkey didn't think about this when i was writing, but this is kind of like the punisher?? but, i was inspired by the beekeeper ANYWAYS i hope you like it! let me know what you think:)
warning: death mentioned
18+ Content
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NSFW WARNING
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❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。
Cat and Mouse
The night sky was aglow by the bright street lamps, showcasing the streets demure appearance. A blanket of stars coaxing the sky above and the occasional barking of a faraway dog broke the silence of the night. You should be asleep, but the all-too-familiar bench that you took refuge on in the night when you found yourself rustling in your sleep called your name. 
You held a cup of warm tea in your hand while the other grasped around a book you had brought out there. Though, you were too enamored with the simplicity of the streets to open it.
It was comforting to sit and just exist. It was a nice change of pace from the exhilaration and adrenaline that comes with your job. It was kind of expected of you to join the police force since your father had joined the force years ago, eventually getting himself promoted to chief of police, and your brother following suit. 
You didn't mind the expectations, though. You found pleasure in helping citizens and keeping the streets clean. You never really considered it a job; it was more of fulfilling your duty. However, about a month ago, it started to feel like a job.
Your brother was KIA while staking out a trafficking organization downtown. He died saving the life of a fellow officer. It was not only a grave, devasting loss to your family but for the whole city. A selfish part of you wished he wasn't so selfless. A selfish part of you resented the other officer for being able to leave the scene alive and not in a body bag. But, the thoughts subsided when you would see the officer with one of his little girls clinging to his leg and the other resting on his pregnant wife’s hip. You realized that your brother hadn't just saved a police officer that day; he saved an entire family. 
"It's a bit cold. No?" A gruff voice rang next to you, absolving you from your thoughts. You looked up at him, Simon. The man who you had been spending your nights with. But, make no mistake, he wasn't yours. He didn't belong to anyone. He said he couldn't.
"A little, but I have tea to warm me up." You smile up at him, taking a sip of your tea. He nods, then opens his door slightly to grab something hanging on the catch-all hooks, as you call them. 
"For when the tea gets cold." He steps in front of you to gently lay one of his jackets on your lap, engulfing your legs. You give him a smile and curl your legs under you. 
"Can I sit, or is two a crowd?" He questions, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. You'd think this was your first interaction with each other. But, ever since the death of your brother, he's been treading lightly. He doesn't want to upset you or be in your space without your permission.
"It's always been three, Simon." You lightly laugh, gently patting the seat next to you. He accepts the invitation and carefully sits on the wooden bench beside you, delicately laying his arm behind you and draping it over your shoulder.
"You know. I thought it would get easier." You pause, leaning closer, laying your head on his shoulder. "But, it's still hard." You breathe out, feeling a tear stream down your cheek. 
He hums, so you know he's listening, as he presses a kiss to the top of your head. Although most find comfort in people consoling them and telling them everything is going to be alright, you find comfort in knowing he's near you and hears you. Even if it's just a kiss or a lingering touch, knowing he's right there eases your mind.
"And on top of that, the guy I told you about is back." You groan out. Referring to the vigilante, who had recently made his revival after going dormant for the last month. Before he went inactive, he employed acts of murder, kidnapping, and threats of violence to rid all sorts of evil. A uniquely brutal band of justice, indeed. Traffickers, abusers, predators. He dealt with some of the most depraved, wicked souls. But, people nonetheless. Meaning the police couldn't turn a blind eye to this. It was murder after all. Doesn't matter if they had it coming. 
The police department tried to figure out his next move, but he somehow knew all their moves. It was almost like someone was feeding him all their information. They hoped there wasn't a snake in the grass—a person supplying him with all the necessary details he needed to stay untouched and have his getaway prepared. 
The guy in question was Simon, but you didn't need to know that. He also didn't need to tell you that his intel was unknowingly coming straight from the police chief's daughter, you.
"I just don't understand why he came back so out of the blue." You sigh, rubbing your tired eyes with the back of your hand. 
"I'm not sure." He supplied as he gently massaged your hip with his hand. 
"I mean, theoretically speaking, if he would have just laid low for the rest of the year and part of next, the captain would have told us that we needed to "start allocating our resources to other cases with activity and leads." You say, picking your hands up quickly to make quotation marks. "And the case would grow cold and start collecting dust. It would almost be like he'd be getting away scot-free." 
"Maybe it's not about that." He plainly stated, bringing his hand to pull his jacket that was lying in your lap, up around your chest.
"About what?" You questioned, looking up at him. 
"Not gettin' caught." You tilted your head. "Look." He started. "I know guys like him. I've worked with guys like him."
"Murderers?" You bluntly said. 
"Somethin' like that." He breathes out. "But, my point is that the guy isn't doin' this to stroke his ego or see how far he can go before he gets caught. I think it's because he wants justice."
"Justice?" You repeated. 
"Justice." He affirms, nodding his head. 
"How is murdering people justice?" You skeptically question.
"I'm not sayin' I agree with the guy. I'm just tellin' you what I think." He says.
Simon knows he shouldn't be going in-depth on the guy's thoughts, AKA him. It was stupid and reckless. You could get suspicious as to why he was being defensive of a murderer. But, he wasn't too concerned with you reading too much into what he was saying because, as of late, your mind has been consumed with your own thoughts.
"It's gettin' late. We should be headin' inside. Ya?" You nodded as he stood and extended his hand for you to grab. You reached your hand up, and his fingers tenderly wrapped around yours. 
Simon led you to his room. You made your way to his bed and fell onto it stomach first, letting out a deep sigh. Simon let out a laugh. "Comfortable. Huh?" He questioned, slipping his shirt off.
"It's always comfortable." You said as you breathed in the scent of the clean linen laundry detergent he used. "I'm glad. I'm just gonna' take a shower. You'll be okay?" He asked as he stripped himself of his sweatpants. 
"Simon, it's like one a.m." You turn over on your back, eyes wandering over Simon's abdomen. "Was sweatin' " He clarified as he ducked under the doorway to the bathroom, connecting to his room.
You stole glances into the bathroom since the son of a bitch left the door open. He peeled off his underwear, revealing his cock before stepping into the shower, obscuring your view.
You lay there for a whole five minutes before the scent of Simon's body wash lingered into his room, filling your nostrils. You stood up and stripped yourself of your clothes, until you were completely naked. 
Simon faced towards the showerhead, one hand on the wall, the other wiping away the water streaming onto his face. You stepped into the bathroom doorway and slowly opened the shower door, bringing your hands up to wrap around his abdomen.
"Finally decided to join me. Huh?" He turned to face you, letting his hand run up your back before threading it through your damp hair while the other slid down your back, landing just above your ass.
"Didn't want you to be lonely." You smirked, standing on your tiptoes to kiss his pec. 
"Is that what it was?" He titled his head, before bringing it down to your lips to engulf them with his. It started gentle and tender, but it became hungrier when you nipped his bottom lip with your teeth.
He pulled you closer before he lightly pinched your ass, making you yelp. He used the opportunity to slip his tongue in your mouth. His hands roamed your body, eventually settling on your breast, giving it a gentle squeeze, electing another moan from you.
"Simon, I need you." You pant as you cling to his neck for stability.
"Where do you need me?" His voice was barely above a whisper. The roughness of it made you even wetter than you already were. His hand slid down the dip of your cleavage, slowly down to where you ached.
"Where, sweetheart?" Your voice went dry, as he slid his hand over your cunt, making you squirm. "Is this where you want me?" He teased, leaning into your neck, leaving sloppy wet kisses on it, as his hand rubbed soft circles on your clit.
"Right there!" You finally let out, voice hoarse. Simon picks one of your legs up to wrap around his waist so that he can see you more clearly. Your eyes are closed as he shoves his middle finger into you, grazing your sweet spot.
You open your eyes briefly to see Simon's staring into yours. Your face reddens, and you raise one arm to cover your eyes in embarrassment. "Don't go shy on me now." He gruffs as he pulls your arm down, covering your eyes.
"I wanna' see all of you." You stare back at him as he introduces another one of his fingers into you. You throw your head back at the contact and tightly grip his bicep. "Fuck, Simon." You moan.
"Feel good?" He seductively asks as he finds your clit again and rubs it. You swiftly nod your head as you feel a knot tightening in your lower stomach, signaling your climax is near. 
"You wanna come?" He pauses before bending down so his mouth is hovering over your ear. "Ask me nicely." 
"Please, Simon." You instantly say. "Let me come." You beg.
With that, Simon picks up his pace, and soon enough, you come all over his fingers, with his name on the tip of your tongue. He holds your body up as you steadily come off your high.
Simon and you end up washing up, with you helping him sud up his hair and him helping wash your back and ass, per his request. After washing up and having another quick makeout session, you both step out of the shower and put on fresh clothes.
"Where are you going?" You questioned as Simon slipped on his shoes. 
"Gotta' go check on Johnny's dog. Forgot to earlier." He said as he laced his shoes.
"Why do I always have to share you with him?" You joke as you settle into the bed. He laughs as he walks over to you and kisses you on the top of the head. "Be back in thirty." You nod, and he heads out the door. You end up almost immediately lulling off to sleep after he leaves.
You didn't question how odd it was that Simon forgot to check on Johnny's dog all day and waited until two a.m. No, because he never gave you a reason to question his whereabouts.
How unfortunate that you would be walking into the office tomorrow morning to see that yet another body was found, this time of a child predator, being reported on the small television you found your colleagues surrounding.
Must be a coincidence.
❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°
taglist: @callsign-artemis @yuenity @sceletaflores @starsofang @chonkaydonkay @gowno1wysrane @harpsinfinity @bleached-punk @babygirl-riley @yyiikes @IMASLUTFORFICTIONALMEN @contractedcriteria @lunars-somehow-alive @theloneshadow24 @minihotdog @mrs-marc-spector @wwwbabygirlcom < finally got some of the @s to work😋
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wosoimagines · 1 day
Text
Sweet Sixteen
part 2 of rivals one-shots
Jo's sixteenth birthday happens during camp.
1,437 words
set in between chapter 3 and 4 of rivals.
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“Dude! It’s your birthday?” 
I raised my eyes from where I was focused on my breakfast to meet Pinoe’s eyes. Everyone had turned to look at her as I froze. It didn’t take long for everyone’s eyes to turn to me. I shrunk in my seat a bit at the number of eyes that were focused on me now. 
“It’s your birthday?” 
My eyes met Becky at the question that was repeated softer. I sucked in a breath but slowly nodded. 
“Is that a problem?” 
“You didn’t tell us it was your birthday,” Becky said. I shrugged at that. Honestly, I wasn’t used to it being celebrated. “We would have got you something.” 
“You don’t have to,” I said with a shake of my head. 
“You don’t want anything for your birthday?” 
Alyssa was the one who spoke up this time. I shrugged at that. There wasn’t much that I really needed. 
“I’m getting a new pair of shoes when I get home. Well, new cleats anyways.” 
I didn’t miss the looks being shared between my teammates. 
“What do you want?” Pinoe asked. 
I was at a loss with that. I didn’t really know what they wanted me to say. I was used to just getting new soccer gear from my family. At least I got to pick out exactly what they got me. 
“How should I know? I usually get new socks and cleats and shin guards and a new ball.” 
The room went silent again. 
“Your family just gets you soccer stuff?” 
I nodded my head at Christie’s question. I tilted my head as the captain clenched her jaw, and I could see the anger that sometimes flickered in her eyes on the field suddenly set in her eyes now. 
“It’s a free day today,” Becky said, drawing my attention back to her. “You can make a list of things you’d like, and we can go shopping for birthday presents.” 
“No,” I shook my head, “That’s too much.” 
“Nah, it’s easy,” Sydney said as she suddenly sat next to me with a pen and piece of paper. “You just write down what you like to do, and we’ll go get you presents that relate to that.” 
I huffed at that. They didn’t get it. 
“Soccer is what I like to do.” 
The whole room froze. 
“If I’m not in school, then it’s soccer.” 
“What do you do besides that?” 
“I don’t. I go to school and I practice and we watch football at home. We don’t do much more than that. We go to the lake during the summer where we swim and we ski. But I don’t do anything else. I can’t do much anything else besides soccer because soccer is how I’m going to make money. And I need to be the best at soccer so that’s what I do outside of school.” 
I refused to meet anyone’s eyes at the admission. I knew it wasn’t entirely normal, but I loved soccer, so I was okay with it. 
“Okay, we’re taking you out, and if you find anything that interests you, we’re buying it for you,” Alyssa spoke up across from me. “And it won’t have anything to do with soccer.” 
I sighed but nodded. It was obvious in the way Alyssa stared me down that there was no room for discussion about it. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 
I gave the camera a small wave as I walked into the mess hall. I knew that the team had talked Jill into letting them get a cake for me. I was a bit surprised though by the amount of boxes that were wrapped. 
Christie had me wearing the new pair of sneakers she had gotten me earlier today after I had accidentally told her that the only new shoes I ever got were my soccer cleats. She had seemed upset by the fact that my parents had only ever given me hand-me-downs for shoes. Her present was the only gift that I knew what it was. Everyone else had ended up keeping it a surprise from me. 
“Think fast, Pip.” 
I easily caught the box that Hope threw at me. She looked surprised but I had a lot of practice with everything that would be thrown at home. I shook the box before raising an eyebrow at how whatever was instead was easily rattled. I took the newspaper off before pulling the lid off. 
“It’s a rock.” 
“It’s an emerald,” Hope corrected. I slowly picked it up. “Figured you could use it. The guy says it brings love into your life.” 
I immediately dropped the emerald back into the box before shoving it in Becky’s hands. 
“No thanks,” I said as I shook my head. “Don’t need love to try to find me right before the World Cup.” 
A couple of our teammates laughed at that.  
“He also said it improves eyesight.” 
“I have perfect vision.” 
Becky ushered me to sit down before Hope and I could get into a petty argument. I did appreciate the thought of her gift though. 
“Here,” Becky said as she put another gift in front of me. “I hope you like it.” 
I sent Becky a small smile. I was sure that I would. After all, I was just happy to have presents that didn’t relate to soccer. I didn’t realize just how annoying it was to only get gifts relating to soccer. 
“You got me a camera?” 
I tilted my head at the sight of the Nikon camera that now sat in my hands. 
“It’s an F2. I figured you might like it since you seem to always try to steal the cameras at practice. But you’ll have to learn how to shoot on film.” 
I grinned at that.  
“Thanks. I love it.” 
“Yeah, yeah,” Kelley spoke up. “We get it. Becky’s your team mom. You’ll love any gift from her.” 
I rolled my eyes at the defender. 
“Here,” Tobin said as a bigger box was pushed toward me. “Might as well keep it on the artistic side.” 
I raised an eyebrow at that. I did wonder if anyone got together to get me something. Maybe Tobin and Becky did? 
“Seen you doodling during film sessions,” Christen explained when I started pulling out sketchbooks and pencils and paints. “Wasn’t sure what to get so I asked Tobin for help, and we just decided to get it all for you together.” 
I hadn’t been able to draw since I was a kid. Not really. At least not if it wasn’t at school. We just couldn’t afford the amount of paper I would go through drawing and how much Mom needed to print so she could edit the chapters of her book. She always said she was old school with her editing and did it much better if she edited a paper copy. 
Present after present was pushed in front of me. Or at least an explanation of what a teammate had ordered for me was given. Like Alyssa ordering me some books she thought I would enjoy. Ali definitely took me by surprise with the amount of clothes she had bought me, but only gave me a shrug that I could start to find my own style instead of having to wear hand-me-downs from my siblings.  
Well, I thought Ali’s would be the biggest surprise, until it was Pinoe’s turn. She had waited to be last. But there were still at least twelve boxes on the table. 
The first was a pair of shoes. So was the second box. And the third. 
“Did you just get me shoes?” 
I knew that I had tried on quite a few, but the ones that Christie had got me were more than enough. 
“You’ve never had your own first pair before now. Now you have options.” 
Twelve pairs of shoes. I couldn’t believe Pinoe. 
“And-” 
“There’s more?” 
There was no way Pinoe got me twelve pairs of shoes and then something else on top of it. 
“It’s like Ali said,” Pinoe started with a shrug, “You can find your own style. I ordered you some clothes to be delivered to your house.” 
I did get into a small argument with Pinoe on whether or not what she got me was too much. It was eventually broken up when the cake was put in front of me, and I was sure that the video of my face immediately turning red as the team sang to me would be posted online. 
“Be honest,” Alyssa nudged me as she walked Becky and I back to our room, “How was your sixteenth birthday?” 
“Best one yet.” 
“Yeah?” 
“Yeah.” 
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gayestcowboy · 7 hours
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fantasy dildo recs please? im trying to find one that isnt like $100 but is still good and reputable and wont fill my body with microplastics. ive been looking at neotori and they look great but;; the price;;; anyway yeah recs please?
hi! i have a lot of information for you.
first off, my specific recommendations of fantasy toy shops i’ve bought from or know to be reputable: uberrime, wandering bard, twilight meadow creations, strange bedfellas, pleasure forge, pp sculptors, batbites, xenocat artifacts. all of these shops have toys under 100 usd. uberrime especially has a huge selection including non-fantasy, realistic, and dual density. my top 3 fantasy toys right now are TMC’s ambrose (mini), wandering bard’s shadow demon (x small), and uberrime’s ardor dragon (small). highly recommend ambrose to transmascs with bottom growth. also it looks cool as fuck. mine is bright green and yellow.
second, this google doc is a masterpost of fantasy and fantasy-adjacent sex toy companies (created as a list of alternatives to bad dragon) and is organized quite well, and includes some shops to be wary of. it was last updated in 2022 so it’s outdated, but it’s massive and still quite useful. safe fantasy toys dot com also lists body safe toy companies, although you should still check reputability of the company before you buy (some of the companies listed on the site should still be avoided for various reasons— try cross checking with the google doc, browsing reddit, etc). all of the specific companies i recommend in this post use platinum silicone only, but if you go searching for other toys make sure to avoid jelly and other porous materials because they cannot be sanitized properly and will store bacteria. just like with piercing and body jewelry (another one of my special interests lol), it’s always better to pay more for safety when it’s something going inside your body. reputable stores will always list the material, and tend to have pages on their sites with even more specific information on their silicone. shipping also affects the price, especially international shipping.
also, when youre shopping for fantasy toys, make sure you check the sizing. smaller toys are frequently under 100 usd. many fantasy toys tend to be quite large anyways, especially knotted toys (many small knotted toys still have diameters of 2”+ which is too large for me personally. for reference i think the average human penis is somewhere around 1.5” diameter and my personal maximum for toys right now is ~1.75). there’s so much diversity in fantasy toys that you will probably be able to find toys that fit your desired length/girth and are still classified as small and therefore less expensive. if you’re new to fantasy toys or have trouble with insertion (or even just have an average sized vagina/rectum), small fantasy toys can be cost efficient and accessible and more fun than more standard toys. many stores will also sell b-grade toys at a discount for minor cosmetic flaws that don’t affect usage. also, there’s a pretty big market for secondhand toys/dong sales on twitter, reddit, etc so if you’re willing to buy secondhand, that can be more cost efficient. quality silicone toys can be properly sanitized by boiling and other methods. for more cheap options— good glass toys can frequently be under 50 usd, and are easy to sanitize. also, tantus isn’t quite a fantasy brand, but it’s very high quality and has some great toys on the cheaper side (i love the tantus magma). and if you want a really good cheap vibrator, the romp hype is amazing and only 35 usd.
i am by no means an expert, just incredibly autistic, but i hope this helps! i’m always happy to try answering questions about sex toys!
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covetyou · 2 days
Text
a dress up!Joel interlude
tomorrow (29th May) I'll be posting the next part of dress up!Joel, lovingly titled ghosted.
in the meantime, have this interlude of sorts that I've been sitting on for weeks (and honestly thought I posted back in April, whoops.)
main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist
rating: Explicit (18+ only!) word count: 969 warnings: more brotherly shenanigans, sex toy talk, mild relationship angst, alcohol consumption summary: Joel's egg hunt couldn't have gone worse, and so he confides in the one person who has his back no matter what - his baby brother.
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Shooting the shit with his little brother wasn't something Joel Miller ever thought he'd enjoy. But, with age and maturity, there wasn't anything quite like sipping cold beers in his backyard, his brother yapping away about work, or girls, or the playoffs, or just about anything else, as they relaxed at the end of a long week. Tommy could talk, and Joel could listen, and that's how it'd always worked.
"Hey, you still got that thing I gave you," Tommy suddenly asks, after giving Joel a blow by blow of his latest conquest - some blonde he met at a bar and didn't even know the name of.
"What, this pain in my ass? Yeah."
"Very funny. Nah, I mean that ballpedo thing. Turns your balls into a torpedo."
"Balldo."
"Yeah! You still got it? If you ain't usin' it, ain't no use in it goin' to waste."
Joel lifts his beer, the condesation leaving a dark ring on his jeans, and takes a sip, averting his eyes from Tommy.
"Still got it."
It was stuffed at the bottom of his sock drawer upstairs. After Christmas, and his uncomfortable walk back home with the thing still strapped to his balls, it took him a little while to pry the thing off. The lube he'd spread over himself was turning tacky combined with your juices, and wetting it just made everything too slippery. But, eventually, he was free, and he cleaned the thing up and left it to dry, as if there would be any opportunity to use it again.
It was a happy coincidence that Sarah was with her mom again on Valentine's day, and your calendar for that day was empty - he noticed when he was fixing a drip in your kitchen sink. Given you enjoyed Christmas, he thought you might like something else too, and he was happy to be right. On Easter, he was going to leave a note for you for his little egg hunt, hoping you'd wake up Saturday morning and make your way over to his place to find the final prize.
He hadn't expected to get caught, and he hadn't expected things to be left as they were afterwards. Now the memory of all of it left a sour taste in his mouth.
"Can I go grab it? I'll take it off you."
"Nah... nah it's okay," Joel says, with a non-commital wave, as Tommy stands, taking a few steps to head inside.
"C'mon, if you ain't usin' it, I can take it. Mom never teach you to share your shit?"
"I'm always sharin' my shit with you, I said no," Joel shoots back with finality, unable to stop himself from mumbling into the rim of his beer. "You wouldn't want it now anyway."
Tommy was never one for being quick to catch on, and for that Joel was grateful. Though, maybe this time he underestimated his little brother. Tommy still makes a move to head inside, likely to rifle through his shit to find the toy he'd given Joel so long ago, but he stops in his tracks before pulling the patio door open.
"Holy shit," is all Tommy says. "Holy shit."
"You remember you're an asshole again?"
"You used the fuckin' ball thing?!"
Joel's silence says all Tommy needs to know.
"You gave yourself a dick for balls and you didn't tell me? Fuck I've been wonderin' about that thing ever since I gave it to you. It good?"
Joel doesn't really know what to say. He doesn't want to say anything - he wants to keep his fuck up with you his own tragic little secret, but now the balldo's out of the bag, he can't exactly dodge the question. Tommy was a persistent bastard when he wanted to be, and Joel knew that he was going to be extra persistent with this.
"It... yeah. Yeah, it was good."
"Wait... fuckin' wait a minute. This mean you got a girl?!" Tommy's face lights up as he asks, and Joel can feel the color drain from his. "You got a girl and you didn't bother tellin' me? You wound me, brother."
Shaking his head, Joel takes another swig of beer, hoping it'll wash the memory of the taste of you from his mouth. It doesn't.
"Nah. Didn't get the girl."
"You fuck it up that bad?"
As much as they could piss each other off, they always had each other to fall back on. Usually, of course, it was Joel picking up the pieces for Tommy, but there was an unspoken agreement between them that meant no one was keeping score. No one owed anyone anything, they'd always be there for each other, whether it was one time or a thousand times. So, against his better judgement, Joel tells Tommy everything and, for once, Tommy listens.
"Only one thing I don't get," Tommy muses when Joel finally finishes with a sigh. "If it was a misunderstanin', what the fuck are you doin' here with me, and not over there with her, explainin' yourself?"
"She told me to leave. I don't wanna intrude any m-"
"You broke into her fuckin' house, brother, think you're long past that."
Tommy slides the patio door open, half inside, half outside, and looks back at his big brother.
"Take it from an asshole who knows - doin' nothin' ain't gonna do shit. You don't get the girl, you don't get your shit rocked. Talk to her. You got nothin' to lose. If she don't want anything to do with you, nothin' changes, and if she does, well... you get the girl, and you get your shit rocked."
He hated to admit it, but Tommy was right, and Joel had never felt so fucking stupid that he didn't come to the same conclusion sooner.
Tomorrow. Tomorrow he'd make this right.
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renranram · 1 day
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Hi darlll super love your stories!!!!! huhu even though its so short it's enough to keep me fed for a whole week HAHAHAHA.
That aside I kinda have another suggestion do take your time! Always take breaks, you don't have to write as soon as you see this🫶 (just tryna keep the schlatt community alive/j)
Anyways what about schlatt with either a preggy or reader with a newborn baby (like they just gave birth orrr it's a nephew? cause SCHLATT HANDLING KIDS IN HIS INTERN VID WAS SO SWEET AJSHSH) or maybeee baby accidentally shows themselves on screen with jambo and burnt soup following them (sorry if it's so long LMAO)
Ps. Holding rammy or something eehehehehe... Also genuinely don't know if I skipped your rules etc but yeah I hope this is comfortable for u to write 🫶
Dad Schlatt
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sfw
new dad schlatt trying to take care of your daughter!
( a/n; COME BACK OF THE YEAR LET'S GOOO 🗣️🗣️🗣️ ill also post more later 👍🏻 )
jay sighs, watching you two, his treasure, fall asleep in bed, you facing your toddler, your baby girl, he looked at you with admiring eyes, he can't help but catch himself smiling
he can't believe your daughter will be 3 in a few weeks, he still remembers everything, “ jay- oh my god.. im so sorry for interrupting the r-recording… but i think.. i think she's coming out “ you burst into his room, recording an episode of chuckle sandwich, deep in pain as you hold tightly on your stomach
“ holy shit “ schlatt immediately rushes to you, not minding the recording anymore, “ my water broke “ you mumble at him as he caresses your cheek, “ okay, we'll be okay, let's go to the car “ he tries to reassure you, panicking himself, gently lifting you up, bridal style as he carefully rushes downstairs
during the ride to the hospital schlatt kept his hand with yours, holding you tightly as you tried to calm yourself, moaning in pain, “ im so sorry toots, it'll be okay, just take a deep breath, yeah? “ his thumb caressing your knuckles, stealing a peck
after you arrive the man patiently waited outside of the operation room, waiting for you to be okay and your little angel to be born, clenching his hands as he takes deep breaths, pacing back in forth, his anxiety rising up
and after hours of waiting schlatt immediately rushes in when he hears you've been admitted to a room, “ toots? toots? how are you? you alright? “ he approaches you, caressing your hair, you chuckling softly, “ im fine jay “ your hands intertwine, as you peck his knuckle
“ i wish you could've seen her… she's so pretty “ you whisper, a bit weak due to birthing just a few minutes ago, schlatt couldn't help but sigh in relief, “ yeah?, im guessing she took her mother's genes “ he smiles at you, endearingly, jay softly pecking your cheek
you could only giggle, as the nurse enters your room, “ how are you feeling darling? “ she gently asks, checking your vitals, before facing jay, “ you can watch your pretty princess on the nursery now “
“ baby, why don't you see her? “ you suggest, smiling softly, “ but toots, what about you? “ schlatt asks, wary to leave you even for just a minute, “ awh don't worry sweetie, i’ll look after her “ the nurse, with the nametag of sarah, smiles at him reassuringly
“ now shh go “ you gently pat his butt as he steals a quick forehead peck, “ alright… be careful yeah? “ he hums slowly leaving the room
as he walked towards the nursery, a small smile came to his face, seeing the newborn children inside, finding children, adorable, his eyes tries to look for your daughter, ‘ loreine schlatt ‘, his eyes sparkle in affection, seeing your baby laying in the crib, a pink bonnet on her hair, with a matching pink blanket
“ jesus fuck… im a dad now “ schlatt breathes out, leaning closer to the glass window, “ my pretty little girl “ he whispers staring at his daughter through the glass, his chest getting warmer every second
after a week, you're finally released from the hospital, and god, did anyone warn you how stressful it is to be parents?
schlatt decided to take a break from youtube, to finally focus on you two, he was amazing at it, managing to look out for his healing wife and his… crybaby of a daughter
as the two of you cuddle, schlatt hums, finding rest for a bit, watching your chest rise and fall, as you snore quietly, he chuckles softly, fixing your hair with his featherlight touch hoping not to wake you up
and that's was his rest, as loreine, yells and sobs, the man sighs, tiredly sitting up as he glances at his alarm, 3:45 am, he groans softly before approaching your daughter's room, already having a miniature fridge on her room to avoid rushing downstairs to make milk
“ you like interrupting daddy’s rest, no? “ jay baby talks your daughter as she wails, her tiny chubby hands wavering around as he gently lifts her up, cradling her, “ you got your mother's mouth, loud “ he jokes, gently grabbing her milk, guiding it to her mouth
humming a song as he moves back and forth slowly, hoping to calm her down, “ it's 3 in the morning and my tiny lady is bothering mee “ he said in a sing song way, gently caressing her cheek with his finger, “ i can't believe i made you “ he whispers, smiling
his baby talking slowly calms your daughter down, sucking the shit out of her milk as she cooes
“ i can't believe, one day, you'll grow up and have a boyfriend, then you're gonna leave daddy “ he playfully scolds your daughter, before noticing burnt soup and jambo entering the room, meowing, “ you guys are awake too? “ he asks, chuckling, “ she's a pretty loud sibling isn't she? “ he jokes
noticing loreine finally gone back to sleep, he gently puts her back down on the crib, switching the milk for a pacifier, as soup and jambo look at your daughter, as if guarding her, “ you two gonna be her guards now? “ he kneels down, gently petting jambo and soup, “ then you better take care of her alright? she's grow up and take care of you two too “ he smiles
before standing up, stretching, eyeing up a rammie plushie of his, the first of it's kind, before gently setting it next to his daughter, smiling as he watches loreine immediately hugs it
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temis-de-leon · 15 hours
Text
When Greed is too much
Characters: Mammon x gn!MC
Main Masterlist
M. Anon: good day, tennis. im an anon who lurks around your work. i find your work fascinating and I hope you may make a small oneshot for me. can you make a mammon x reader fanfiction? the pronounce doesn't matter. and the fanfiction could be about mammon and reader sneaking out frequently because mammon likes to gamble and they get caught one day and mammon took all of the blame for himself. i think it would be a good idea for a oneshot. but putting that aside, I adore your work. i like how you describe everything and your headcanons are interesting. i hope you can keep uploading. sending platonic loves.
A/N: I got a little distracted and made Mammon feel guilty af instead of taking the blame, I'm sorry, I hope you like it anyways <3 A little reference right at the end
.
Mammon had a complicated relationship with money.
He loved it too much to hate it and he needed it enough to forgive the danger it brought within. He would inlay it under his skin if he could, if Lucifer let him, making him shine under the lights like a kaleidoscope.
Cold metal between his fangs to check its authenticity, smooth paper sliding through his fingers, hard plastic shaping his wallet. Jewellery, clothes, his car. He had them because he needed it in any way, shape or form, like water to fish, riches to him. A bottomless pit that got bigger and bigger the more he threw in.
His fingers were longer and thinner than his brothers’ and more than once he had wondered if his sin had modified his body to easily indulge in it. He was also the fastest runner when he needed to and he could turn his words to honey if the situation required it. An opportunist thief, even if he disliked the term.
And he knew stealing wasn’t okay, but no amount of Lucifer’s punishments would stop him from doing so. He could manage hanging upside down for hours on end and, even when the lectures were painfully boring and made him want to die, sitting in the same position for as long as his brother decided was something he could live through. Lotan, or rather the flood it implied, was a bothersome threat and, although terrifying, the witches wouldn’t seriously hurt him unless Lucifer knew he could take it.
Still, constantly going through that was annoying, so he went to the next best thing, a place where condemned souls like him got together and did what pleasured him the most: bring money to the table. The wheel of fortune laid deep in his chest; sometimes he deceived himself, others, he was right.
Fortunately for his ego, his dignity and his integrity, Mammon had found his perfect lucky charm. Human shape and devoted to him, every time MC joined him in his escapades, his wallet came back home fatter than when they left. It was refreshing and addicting and it didn’t take him too long to actually need MC’s presence each time he left the house to gamble.
At first it was just once or twice every week and a half, then at least once a week, then three times a week, then every night. He would invite them to his room, taking advantage of the alibi their relationship offered, hang out and fool around until every single one of his brothers was asleep and then sneak out through the garage door.
It was a fun, bonding time between them. Holding hands while running from one corner of the town to another, pockets heavier and heavier as the night went by and clothes reeking of the cigars, alcohol and perfume of those who pushed them around amidst the chaos of the casino.
Mammon lived for all of that, especially now that MC was by his side, watching him thrive and win, over and over and over again. In their eyes, he succeeded and he was the one to carry the golden medal. Not his brothers, not their friends, him.
Eventually, he did what he did best and pushed his luck.
After an outstanding winning streak, they finally got to the night when everything went astray, losing every bet and every game, eventually finding themselves deep in debt with the casino and a bunch of furious patrons and, although begrudgingly, admitting that a period of restraint was long overdue.
And then they got home.
“When will you learn?” Lucifer said for the hundredth time while tightening the rope around his torso and trapping his hands behind his back.
“C’mon! It wasn’t that bad!”
He tried to smile to downplay the situation, but it came out wobbly and his fear was too obvious for his brother to ignore. Lucifer grinned with malice, eyes darkening in evil enjoyment before bending down to tie Mammon’s ankles together, slow in his movements and his words.
“Do you truly think this would’ve ended well? We both know you’re an idiot, but the limits you’re willing to cross outstand me. Bringing MC into this? Really? You moronic dimwit… I thought you would be the last to put them in danger. Alas, I was wrong”
“I’ve never put them in danger”
His immediate response brought Lucifer back to his feet, both of them now serious and locking eyes with each other. Mammon felt the rough edges of the rope scraping his skin, uncomfortably keeping him in place under his brother’s infuriated gaze.
“Taking them out of the house for hours every night, making them play games against lowlife demons and risking their safety for a few coins, what is that to you if not jeopardizing their life?”
“A few coins? We made ourselves rich!”
“Is that what bothers you about what I just said?”
“I’m telling you they were safe with me!”
Lucifer sighed, shaking his head in disappointment and going around Mammon. A noise coming from behind filled him with dread and he didn’t have time to beg for more time before something pulled his feet to the side and his body hit the carpeted floor. It barely softened the fall and soon his pained groans reached every corner of the staircase.
“You truly never learn”
“I’ll do it! I’ll learn! Please don’t leave me here! You can’t abandon your baby brother here, can’t you? It was an honest mistake!”
“Mammon”
After securing the rope around one of the beams from the ceiling, the eldest took a few steps down and looked at him from above. His voice was low, hopeless, and Mammon found that more hurtful than the strong grip around his limbs or the pounding on his head.
“You’re lucky MC’s heart shines brighter than mine” Lucifer said, leaving him speechless “One of these days you will go too far and I’m not sure who will be there to catch you”
“What…?”
“Rest well, Mammon” he continued to go down the stairs, not bothering to look at him anymore. He spoke one last time before disappearing completely. “And think about what I said, will you?”
Lucifer’s footsteps merged into the night, the lights turned off and, suddenly, Mammon found himself alone.
He was still wearing the clothes he’d chosen to go to the casino hours ago, jewellery dangling over his face and DDD threatening to fall out of his pocket. The screen lightened up, showing MC’s name, and the desperation to answer the call made him squirm enough to ultimately make the phone fall to the bottom of the stairs. He grimaced at the cracking sound.
Asmo would say it was karma for being a scumbag and he didn’t know if he should start believing that.
He wasn’t a scumbag, was he? MC was fine! Not a scratch in their pretty face to complain about and every bit of their outfit still in place and making them look even better. They had been smiling when they finally got to the garage door, shallowly breathing while they checked him out in search of any type of damage.
They were fine.
They had been smiling because they’d been having fun. Or was it out of relief? Heart beating in fear, terrified about him and the punishment that awaited them both once Lucifer found them.
Mammon craned his neck, looking at the remains of his DDD with a sting in his throat. Why did MC call him? Were they mad at him? Did they have enough? The thought of actually putting them in danger for a piece of metal, easily ripped paper or soon to be frozen plastic made his hear stop in panic.
He was a fast runner, an immortal demon with wings. It was easy for him to flee and leave his troubles behind, but MC didn’t have the same advantages. They were a human, flesh and soul in close proximity, easy to eat and forget.
A gasp escaped him at the image of his partner being tore apart and he shook his head trying to chase it away, but it was no use. He closed his eyes and it was there, like an omen or a reminder, Lucifer’s words roaring in his mind.
His name got louder and louder until It finally sounded right next to his ear. A hand cupped his neck and MC’s worried face appeared in his line of vision, but the remorse didn’t let him feel relief.
“Are you okay? Let me get you down. I got out as soon as I could, but I’m sure Lucifer knows I’m here anyways. What a way to end the night…”
He huffed at their whispers, his heart breaking piece by piece. Looking at MC and the way they carefully untied the knots, he knew Lucifer was right. The dumb human was too good for him and didn’t want to acknowledge it, choosing instead to stick by his side each day until it would be too late.
“I’m sorry” he finally said in a broken voice.
“For what, dummy?”
“I put you in danger”
MC chuckled, kissing his jaw before freeing his arms and watching the rope fall down. Mammon leaned forward until he touched his feet, noticing his body burning while he worked the knots that creased the leather in his boots.
“How did you put me in danger?” they asked with a hint of humour in their voice “As far as I know, I went with you willingly and we had a bad night. It was bound to happen after winning that much money”
“But they almost attacked us…”
“We got out of there just in time” MC interrupted him, then frowned and put their hands on their hips. “Did Lucifer said something to you?”
“No”
The lie was obvious and MC licked their teeth in poorly contained fury. Seconds later, Mammon finally set himself free and swung on the rope to reach the banister. Once he settled and stood straight, MC rushed to hug him. Both of them stayed silent and basking in the comfort that surrounded them.
He didn’t know what to say. He wanted to beg them not to reprimand Lucifer and he wanted to thank them for freeing him and staying with him beyond what he definitely deserved, but no words came out and forcing them would make him cry; and doing that in front of MC would definitely kill him faster than Lucifer could ever do.
In the end, none of them said anything, instead clinging to each other like their lives depended on it. Slowly, as if they were handling a wounded animal, MC grabbed his hands and lead him towards their room.
What did that human movie say?
He’d die for them. He’d kill for them. Either way, what bliss.
.
.
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polarspaz · 2 hours
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Was rereading the Knowing Too Much AU (eldritch batfam beloved), and realized that since Barbara's aspect is knowledge does that mean she's the third to figure it out? Maybe after the Cave Incident where everyone's trying to undo the "curse" Tim is under. She wants to know what happened to him, she wants to know why, she wants to know how, she wants to know if she can fix it. And then she stumbles upon his research, and figures out what's really going on. And she changes. (It's not a curse, it's so much worse...)
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You are correct! Barbra is the third one to figure out what's really going on. But I'm trying to decided wither or not she tells Tim she knows. Telling Tim might devastate him, as he's clearly been trying to keep this thing suppressed in anyway possible, and telling him could also actually make things even worse.
The less people know about this mess, the better.
I also updated the positive/negative powers for the EldritchFamily
-Tim/Aspect Hope = Power/Teleportation. Tim can create a portal to anywhere, and innately knows where any object or person is. The entity however forces Tim to drag people back to Gotham, wither they want to return or not. Tim is essentially the chain that keeps them tied to city
-Bruce/Aspect Justice = Power/Shadow manipulation. Bruce can warp shadows and make them physical. He can also melt into shadows and use them to travel anywhere there is a patch of darkness. He can also lurk in these spots and spy on people if he wishes. The entity however has a good deal of influence on Bruce and can tamper with his personalty, making him more extreme in his crusade or suppress his emotions.
-Dick/Aspect Humanity = Power/Empathy. Dick can amplify people's positive emotions, like love, happiness, and compassion. His power helps the family retain their humanity, boosts their powers, it can also help compel villains to do good deeds. The negative part to his power though is that the entity will make Dick inject negative emotions into villains, making them even more deranged and violent.
-Jason/Aspect Rebirth = Power/resurrection. Jason's power is the most OP and ironically the most simplistic, he can bring people back to life. The downside? The entity makes him bring back villains too, especially the Joker.
-Cassandra/Aspect Secrets = Power/Invisibility. If Cassandra doesn’t want to be found or suspected, she will never be seen or thought of again until she desires it. She can also turn herself or anything she wants completely invisible, even to technology and the senses, meaning you can't track her through smell or sound either. The entity forces her to hide objects or people that could help the family rebel against it. ((She never remembers doing this either, so she can't just cheat and tell where the shit is lol))
Barbra/Aspect Knowledge = Power…Knowledge lol. If Barbra wants to know something, she will always find the answer to it. She remembers EVERYTHING and instantly understands any complex idea or problem that comes before her. However, whatever she learns, she must share that same knowledge with the entity, meaning whatever she knows, the entity knows too.
Also here's some others who are affected by the entity.
Alfred/Aspect Loyalty. Jim Gordon/Aspect Diligence. Damian/Aspect Redemption. Joker /Aspect Chaos. Catwoman Aspect/Desire. Stephanie /Aspect Mischief.
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meazalykov · 10 hours
Text
soft spot (2)
esmee brugts x reader
part two (part one here)
the emotional reader finds happiness again
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The first season at Barcelona went fast for Y/n. After joining Barcelona Femení, she gradually found her rhythm, both on the pitch and off. Her initial nervousness about fitting in faded as she formed strong bonds with her new teammates, none stronger than the one she developed with Esmee. 
Despite their clash during the World Cup, and after Y/n’s apology, they became close friends, their connection deepening with each passing month. A few examples were when Y/n scored in her debut against Madrid CFF in September, Esmee was the first to congratulate her as it was a goal in extra time. When Esmee scored her hat-trick against Eibar, Y/n was the first by her side congratulating her. 
The girls hung out all of the time outside of the pitch. Their personalities clicked together like a smooth puzzle. Esmee was shy, more reserved, and relaxed. Y/n was extroverted, yet kind and creative. There wasn’t a weekend (unless there were international breaks) where the duo wasn’t together. Other Barcelona girls took note of this. 
“Y/n, what are you doing this weekend?” Ona said. Y/n turned around at the voice and saw Ona, Salma, and Vicky approaching her. The American smiled at her friends, she had a few plans but she knew she could fit the three Spanish girls into her calendar. 
“Nothing too much. What's going on?” Y/n asked. Salma put her arm around her shoulders, Vicky doing the same, as Ona started speaking– 
“We were thinking about going to the Men’s game against Napoli on Tuesday. Its their second-leg game.” Ona said. Y/n’s eyes widened as she remembered that Esmee and her already had plans to go to that game together. She thought that Ona, Salma, and Vicky were going to ask about something else. 
 “Oh yeahhh– sorry Esmee and I already had plans to go together. You can all join us—I’m sure she won’t mind.” Y/n sighed. Salma and Ona smirked to each other as Vicky patted on Y/n’s back. 
“Y/n—- do you have a crushhhh?” Vicky teases Y/n. The other Spanish girls giggle as Y/n blushed at the question. 
“Noooo I dooo nottt” Y/n dragged out her response in the same teasing tone Vicky did. 
“You’re lying!” Salma’s jaw dropped as the other girls started to laugh even harder, y/n laughing too. 
“Stop it!! You guys can join us on Tuesday, it'll be fun!” Y/n offered, feeling bad that she couldn’t fulfill Ona's plan. 
“No thank you, I don’t want to interrupt your guy’s date!” Ona smirked. All of the girls laughed as Y/n blushed, not denying that it was a date in her mind. 
As the months passed by, Y/n had a high level of anxiety when she realized she was falling in love with Esmee. 
Memories of Jane's betrayal last summer haunted her. She moved on and doesn’t love Jane the same anymore, with the help of her sport’s therapist, but betrayal doesn’t leave the mind of most people. Y/n was terrified of making herself vulnerable again. 
However, she reached out to Ingrid, Mapi, and Ona for help. The three women gave constant reassurances and helped soothe Y/n’s fears. They all spoke highly of Esmee's character, assuring Y/n that she would never treat her the way Jane had. 
Y/n and Esmee spent most of their days together, sharing late-night talks, laughing over shared inside jokes, and supporting each other through the highs and lows of their games. Y/n's heart raced whenever Esmee was near, and she often found herself lost in Esmee's eyes, the fear of vulnerability slowly replaced by a blossoming hope. She hoped that Esmee felt the same love for her.
Now, the Champions League final against Lyon is here in Bilbao. The entire team was abuzz with excitement and nerves, and Y/n felt a mix of both as she took her place on the bench. The girl knew she wouldn’t start, but she assumed that she would have the opportunity to play today since Jona is the coach who wants to give his players minutes. Anyways, Y/n watched the game intently as the minutes passed. Barcelona and Lyon were locked in a fierce battle, and the stakes couldn't be higher.
When Aitana opened up the score, Y/n jumped up and sprinted towards the shorter woman. The entire bench followed her as the ballon d’or winner jumped and celebrated with them.
Later in the 71st minute, Jona called Y/n's name, signaling for her to sub in for Salma. With her heart pounding, Y/n stepped onto the pitch, the weight of the moment pressing down on her. It was her first Champions League campaign, everyone knew that and their eyes were now on her, and the significance of the final wasn't lost on her. 
She drew on the encouragement from her teammates, particularly Esmee, whose support had been a constant source of strength for her this season. Being the first sub in this final drew attention, she needed to contribute to an inevitable win for Barcelona.
Even though Barcelona was up by one, the tension was palpable. Danielle Van makes a mistake which leads to Caroline Graham Hansen making a brilliant run up the right side. Y/n fast feet sprinted to meet her up the pitch, her eyes fixed on the ball. As Caroline approached the box, dodging Bacha’s attempt to block her, she executed a perfect left side pass, sending the ball directly into Y/n's path. 
Without hesitation, Y/n took the shot with one-touch, her foot striking the ball cleanly. The Lyon defenders weren’t fast enough to stop it, since Y/n knew that more touches on the ball would lose her that opportunity. The ball soared into the right-top corner of the net, past the outstretched hands of the Lyon goalkeeper.
The crowd erupted in a deafening roar. Y/n, overwhelmed with joy and disbelief, spread her arms and ran in celebration. The cameras captured her glistening eyes as she ran to the corner closest to the benches.
Her Barcelona teammates on the bench stormed the field, knowing they’re up 2-0 with twenty minutes of the game left. All of the girls and coaches surrounded Y/n in a warm (yet loud) embrace.
Esmee was the first to reach her, wrapping Y/n in a tight hug, her head nestled into Y/n's neck.
"I'm so proud of you, Mijn liefje" (My darling) Esmee whispered, her voice filled with genuine emotion. She knew that Y/n wouldn’t understand her Dutch, which gave her the confidence to say the nickname she gave her. 
Y/n blushed, her adrenaline mingling with the warmth of Esmee's praise. She felt a surge of happiness, her fears and doubts melting away in that moment since the goal gave her the biggest boost of confidence.
The game started again and from the sidelines, Vicky nudged Esmee. "You're still going to confess your feelings to her after the final, right?"
Esmee glanced at Y/n on the pitch, before looking back at Vicky her heart swelling with affection. "If we win, I will."
Everyone on the team knew that Esmee and Y/n were in love with each other. However, they left it to the girls to decide on when they’ll want to confess. The whole team was aware that Esmee will ask her out after the final, little did they know— Y/n had the same plan.
The final minutes of the match were a blur of intense play and mounting anticipation. Esmee came on the pitch which excited Y/n, she knew it was Esmee’s first Champions League final too. She loved Esmee on the pitch with her, as they’re both ⅔ forwards on the pitch that moment.
Ale subbed into the game next and scored the third goal just a few minutes after. This celebration overwhelmed the fans, knowing that Barcelona would win. Y/n held up Alexia’s jersey for the fans after the captain took it off her body. Camera’s captured this site beautifully. 
When the final whistle blew, confirming Barcelona's victory, the team erupted in celebration. Amid the chaos, Y/n and Esmee found each other again, their hearts pounding with more than just the thrill of victory. Y/n wrapped her arms around Esmee’s shoulder as Esmee held hers around Y/n’s waist. 
As they stood together, before the trophy celebration, Y/n took a deep breath. "Esmee– Hi!” she awkwardly said. 
“Hi!” Esmee laughed with Y/n. She looked into the girl’s eyes and saw love and happiness in them. Y/n was the most beautiful thing to her at the moment, even with the Champion’s League trophy a few yards away. Y/n felt the same with Esmee as she placed her hands on the back of Esmee’s neck, where her braids gently fell on them.
“We won!” Y/n pumped her free hand into the air, the one that wasn’t holding Esmee. 
“We are champions!!!” The Dutch girl mimicked Y/n's movements which caused the girls to laugh uncontrollably through the awkwardness. The American realized that she needed to stop holding back from telling Esmee the truth.
“Es– um– there's something I need to tell you." Y/n swallowed. She looked over her right and saw Vicky, Ingrid, and Ona looking at them, they looked away once Y/n noticed their looks. 
Esmee smiled as Y/n looked back at her, her eyes twinkling with anticipation. "Me too, Y/n. You can go first."
Y/n's heart raced, but she pushed through her nerves. "I love you, Esmee. I wish I had told you this earlier. I've fallen in love with you, and I have to tell you, even if you don’t feel the same."
Esmee's eyes widened in surprise, and then she laughed softly, her joy evident as she pulled Y/n closer to her. "Y/n, I love you too. I should’ve said something earlier too."
After the celebrations with the trophy, getting pictures with the trophy with friends and family, and rolling around on the ground with the confetti— Y/n pulled Esmee away into the hallway which led into the dressing room. 
Both girls had the same idea as Esmee turned Y/n’s body around to face her– the girls immediately pulled themselves into a kiss, sealing their love with the triumph of their shared victory.
“Looks like the Champion’s League isn’t the only thing you’ve guys won!” Salma ran into the dressing room and cheered at the sight of her friends in love. She runs beside the couple and starts jumping up and down. 
The couple laughed and started to do the same thing. This is the best ending to a season ever, and y/n was grateful that her soft spot for Esmee blossomed into something more. 
<3
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omgg i loveee your patrick zweig x reader fics, could please write a bit more about patrick zweig x pregnant reader or patrick with his newborn baby (i have a soft spot for that lol)
So when Y/N first found out she was pregnant she was scared and nervous. Patrick was still a pro tennis player and they barely talked about kids. So when Y/N saw that the pregnancy test was positive she didn’t know how to react. Patrick was practicing so it would be awhile before he got back. A few hours later he returned to find Y/N sitting at the kitchen table with something in her hand. “Hey baby.” He greeted. She gave him a soft smile, “Hey.” Her body was tense and she had every emotion. “Can you come sit?” She asked him. He looked confused but sat across from her as she stared at whatever was in her hand. “What’s wrong?” He asked. She sighed and sat the pregnancy test on the table for him to see. She slid it over to him. He picked it up and gasped. “You’re Pregnant?” He asked and she nodded. He stood up and ran over to her and picked her up. “This is amazing!” He said and twirled her around. She laughed and he set her down. They were almost face to face but the height difference made that impossible. “You’re having my baby!” He said with a smile. “I know it’s amazing.” She said, happy that he reacted that way.
Patrick was pretty overprotective over her as the days went on. He didn’t want Y/N to lift a finger. So anytime he was there she wouldn’t. Even if she had to shower he’d offer to help. “Patrick you just wanna see me naked.” “Well duh but I want to make sure you don’t hurt yourself.” He said. When the raging hormones hit he took it all. From Y/N yelling at him to crying and obviously to wanted to jump his bones. That was his favorite obviously. He loved having sex and the fact Y/N wanted it more than him? That was awesome. “This is the most we’ve had sex.” He breathed out as he collapsed next to her. “Are you complaining?” She asked, he shook his head. “Hell no.” Even the crazy cravings that she got. “I’m sorry you want Pickles and popcorn but together? So the pickle juice with popcorn?” She nodded. He looked at her weird but got it for her anyways. He loved her so much and the little baby growing inside of her.
When the time came Patrick freaked out as Y/N yelled in pain. He called Art to figure it out and help since he had a kid of his own. “Take her to the hospital you dumbass!” He yelled at the man. So he grabbed what was needed and took Y/N to the hospital. The car ride was awful. She kept screaming at him to drive faster. “Babe I’m going as fast as I can.” When the arrived Y/N was took to a room immediately and Patrick watched as his wife screamed as the contractions hit. He took a hold of her hand as she got ready to push. “You got this baby!” He said as she pushed. “You did this to me you asshole! You put this baby in me! We are never having sex again!” She yelled at him. He hoped that wasn’t true. Once the baby was out the crying could be heard. “It’s a girl.” The doctor said. They looked at each other and smiled. “A little tennis star.” Patrick said. The doctor handed the baby to Y/N and she awed. She was so tiny in her arms and looked so cute. Patrick stared at the scene in front of him never wanting to forget it. “Do you want to hold her?” Y/N asked him. He nodded as the tears started forming. He took the baby out of his wife’s arms and cooed at the little baby. “You look just like your mom.” He said and Y/N scoffed. “Patrick she doesn’t look like either of us yet. Well maybe your big nose.” “Hey you like my big nose especially when you sit on it.” He said and Y/N hit him. “No talk like that in front of the baby. “ She growled. He apologized but smirked at her. “Babe we have a little us in my arms.” He said and she smiled. “Yeah we do.”
Patrick wouldn’t shut up about his newborn. Art was happy that Patrick had a baby now but the man really couldn’t stop talking about her. “Art she’s so cute and has my nose!” “I know you’ve told me 8 times already!” Safe to say that Patrick loves her a lot.
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pumpkinbxtch · 2 days
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hey, ik requests are closed but if you could do this one, i'll be very grateful. just remember, if you don't want to, you don't have to.
i was thinking if post-trial apollo, meets the reader, after the trial (can the reader be a child of Hades? like a child of Hades would be so iconic), love at first sight (fuck, why is this so cliche 😭😭) and tries to spend more time with the reader. the reader is new to the entire camp thing, and is getting more used to it, and grows closer to Apollo. but he's like scared to admit he's in love bc he thinks, that just like all his past lovers, the reader would run away, or kill herself, or fall into deep trouble, but after some really had event in which he almost loses y/n, he goes all haywire, confessing everything and it becomes a cute, fluffy scene together
AGAIN ik you aren't taking in requests, so if you don't want to do it, it's totally fine. love so many of your fics btw ♥️♥️
i love you, isn't that the worst thing you've ever heard?
— apollo/lester x child of hades!reader
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warnings: none a/n: Hello beautiful person. You're seeing this, now you know that I take your request and I want to say why and it's because you asked me so nice that I couldn't resist. I have corazón de pollo which is something like being very sensitive or being warm-hearted. Anyway, let me know if you liked it. I hope it was like that and thank you for reading me, for your support. ❤️ Kisses from Pluto! ha ha
Your legs settled back over Apollo’s knees, and he kept them in place with his hands, letting out a snort.
— You’re pretty comfortable with a god, aren’t you? — His pretentious tone just made you smile and shrug.
— You didn’t move my feet, did you? — you replied in the same tone, and he leaned against the cabin wall. It was true, and if it were up to him, he never would.
— Whatever…— he muttered, watching you lie back down, putting your attention back on a comic book Will Solace had lent you, saying it was based on one of his favorite movies, which made you interested in reading it. You thought you and Will weren’t that different, and you liked him but not in ‘that’ way, just as a friend. After all, Will was becoming part of the family with your brother Nico because they seemed to have something slowly brewing.
— How many times have you said I love you?— you asked out of the blue, still not taking your eyes off the comic. Apollo almost choked on his own saliva.
— What’s that about? — he said evasively. He didn’t want to talk about it because if he remembered correctly, all those times had ended badly. He tried to catch your eyes but found the glossy cover of the comic in the way.
You shrugged and turned the page, continuing with the same topic.
— I heard Nico say that to Will once when they thought I was out of our cabin, but I was just in the bathroom.
— Hmmm. And?
— Nothing, just that Nico doesn’t say it often. I’ve only heard him say it to his sister Bianca, his real sister. Also to Hazel, to me, and to Will.
Now Apollo understood but played dumb.
— I don’t know.
You tapped his thigh with your foot.
— Of course you do.
And obviously, he did, but stayed silent, hoping the comic would distract you enough.
— I think they’re falling in love — you stated, laughing at something you read. Apollo could never understand how demigods managed with ADHD; now, it just seemed like a curse.
— Well, I suppose.
His half-hearted responses annoyed you, and you put the comic down with a frown, and he apologized with his eyes.
— Have you fallen in love recently?
That question threw him off. Apollo gently moved your legs aside to sit on the edge of the bed with his heart racing and a pout on his face.
— Where are you going? — you asked, concerned, setting the comic aside and sitting next to him. Apollo smiled sheepishly. He didn’t like lying to you, but whenever you started guiding the conversation that way, he had to find a way to escape.
— I need to do something in olympus, they just told me.
You made a face and nodded. You never got involved in that; after all, he was a god.
In the end, Apollo sat moodily on his throne, watching time pass at Camp Half-Blood. Since his return as the sun god, things had changed in his heart, so he found himself more in that place despite what the gods said, which reminded him of when he met you.
You had recently arrived and caught attention for reaching an age where any demigod would have died, but shortly after, if not the same day, everyone knew you weren’t just any demigod. You were a child of Hades. Of course, the most delighted with this was Nico, who welcomed you and made sure you were never alone.
Things were fresh, so Apollo ended up in your close circle until it became very close. If Apollo was at Camp Half-Blood, you were with him, and it didn’t take long for him to fall in love with you, though you hadn’t realized it yet.
You felt safe growing up by his side; no one would mess with you since you were a child of the big three and a close friend of a god. Some fools judged you for your company, but they were afraid to approach when you were – according to Apollo – an adorable person.
The god watched through the fire as you thrived in camp after his unexpected departure, and to him, you were doing too well, though some things were too good for his liking, and he couldn’t deny it; you were charming in more than one way, which obviously attracted campers like Harley, that son of Hephaestus who sometimes gave you cute things like that pomegranate made of metal leaves. A gift that seemed very familiar when he saw Leo flirting with Calypso.
Leo flirting with Calypso.
Leo flirting.
The god stood up and admired the scene closely. Harley had blushed cheeks while giving you the gift, and you smiled gratefully. No way, he knew the sons of Hephaestus were bold, but he never imagined someone would be so obvious with you due to your lack of understanding of indirect hints. They approached but never that close, and he should have guessed, but also, he wasn’t one to get angry.
You received the gift and admired it closely, but only thanked him briefly, which seemed enough proof of your affection to the son of Hephaestus, something Apollo obviously loathed as well as keeping him awake the rest of the night.
He didn't know why (well he did) but the god ended sitting at the dining pavilion, his nails digging into the table.
— Everything okay? — Your voice snapped him out of his trance, and he smiled. You always seemed to have a radar for when he was near.
— Will fell in love with Nico, and Nico with him. Do you think they both realized it or just one?— His question took you by surprise, and more than making you think twice, it excited you that he finally answered that kind of question since he always seemed to have a repulsion to them.
You sat beside him, and Apollo gave you a sweet look, waiting for your answer.
— Maybe Nico and Will know, but Will could be waiting for Nico to give clear signals about it.
— Maybe Nico is scared.
— Does he think Will isn’t?
You both fell silent. It was clear; it was in the air, you weren’t really talking about your brother and Will.
— What’s the worst thing he could say to Will? — you asked, your hand reaching for Apollo’s to intertwine your fingers. The blonde swallowed and suddenly felt breathless.
— I don’t know, but I can think of something.
Apollo made a face and turned a little more towards you, his cheeks red and his eyes shiny. He was afraid of hurting you, of things not working out as they did with his previous lovers; he could never afford to make you suffer when he already knew the degree of consequence it would have in his life, but beyond his good or bad karma, he cared about you. He loved you enough never to try to have you.
Your patience was reaching its limit, and although the son of Hephaestus was cute, sweet, a good match… your heart belonged to someone since the first moment you saw him.
—Apollo… —your voice called him with a bit of seriousness, a peculiar tone that made the god realize his time for redundancies was over.
— I love you, isn’t that the worst I could say?
Your eyes widened with hope, and you moved a little closer to him, bumping knees.
— From Nico to Will? — you asked, not wanting to humiliate yourself.
Apollo’s blue eyes examined you suspiciously. The responsibility would fall on him; he was never the best at hiding his feelings, but if your happiness depended on it, the first moment he saw your life in danger, he wouldn’t hesitate to disappear from it. For now, a confession was something very innocent.
The sun god turned to you with a bit more evident confidence and didn’t let go of your hand; instead, he kissed it.
— No. From me to you…
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Lost Fic #184
1. Hi! A while back ago I saw a fic in which Agnes Nutter wrote one last last prophecy, which read, “He loves ye too, ye dafte olde serpent” or something similar to that. Has anyone seen a fic like that? Thanks so much, y’all do amazing work here! - @seraphic-sibyl
2. Hi there, I was looking for a fic I read awhile ago where Aziraphale speaks to God about his relationship with Crowley, and she describes it sort of like that Crowley is a flaming sword, and therefore Aziraphale is the sheath? I’m sorry if that’s too vague, but thank you for the help you do! -anon
3. I'm looking for a fic and I am hoping you can help me locate it. You all do such a great service finding fics that are lost and I am hoping you can help me. The fic is about Crowley and Aziraphale living in the same building and I think Aziraphale is playing records or maybe plays the piano and Crowley joins him on some instrument even though they can't see each other. Crowley is famous and Aziraphale has a child that he is either looking after or its his son. (Adam maybe?) They go over to Crowleys to see each other and I think Crowley is surprised that Aziraphale isn't an elderly man. I honestly have been looking for it for a while with no luck and I feel like the longer look the more blurry the details get. - anon
4. Hello lovely mods! I am looking for a lost fic that I cannot find for the life of me - it may have been deleted. It was a smutty fic that involved Crowley driving home in 1967 with Aziraphale’s thermos of holy water between his legs, and it results in Crowley “making an effort” for the first time in the Bentley lol. Any help finding it would be much appreciated ty! - anon
5. Hi, hello! Thank you so very much for all your work! I'm looking for a Night at Crowley's Flat fic, but I'm not certain it was tagged that way, and I'm also not certain of the rating. All I remember is they get back to the flat, and are sort of tiptoeing around each other. C decides to go to bed, and leaves A to his own devices. Eventually, A decides to crawl into bed with C anyway, to find him still awake. Thank you again!! - @opheliasflorist
If you know any of these fics please include the number in your reply! Thank you :)
- Mod D
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hey elliot! this is a surgery question, so please take all the time you need to reply. you've mentioned you had top surgery before, and i was wondering what it was like accessing that kind of care as a little person? was it challenging finding a surgeon willing to work with you? what sort of considerations were needed for your surgery and recovery, if any? i was also curious if you had used a binder before surgery, and how you found it? i have a hard enough time donning and doffing mine with long arms, so i'd imagine it could be quite challenging for you, but maybe you found ways around it! thank you for all your hard work and patience in educating folks. wishing you bountiful spoons and lots of restful, easy days 💚
Hello! Thank you so much for your patience, I did indeed take some time to process this - I'm more than happy to answer questions related to surgery on here, as it's such a large part of my experience as a little person, but I may indeed take some time to respond as I have medical CPTSD.
Anyhoo lol Yes! I have had top surgery, and my dwarfism did effect how I accessed that care:
Because I'm at risk for spinal injury, my surgery was done at a hospital rather than an outpatient centre where most top surgery is conducted (I needed to be kept overnight for monitoring while most top surgery patients leave day-of)
Like for all my surgeries, my sleep apnea and oxygen levels needed to be monitored
But unlike my many other surgeries, this particular hospital (which will remain nameless for my own security) was incredibly inaccessible despite it being obviously well funded. No stools to be found, the wheelchairs were so high and designed with an almost bike-like frame that I needed to be liften in and out of them, and the staff was unfriendly and ableist.
My surgeon was picked for her experience with little people rather than her experience with top surgery. (I ended up unhappy with my results because my surgeon was more familiar with breast reductions and didn't follow through with my wishes. My top surgery was actually the worst surgery experience I've had - I was repeatedly dead-named by members of the hospital, overdosed on anaesthesia, and my surgeon had a terrible bedside manner)
But my touch up surgeon was my first choice! Dr. Armstrong at McLean Clinic did a fantastic job straightening my scars and removing my nipples (which I had hesitated on for the first surgery but firmed up for the second. I love having no nipples!)
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Image description: a photo of my torso and lower face, displaying my healed top surgery results. Two wavy pink scars line the bottom of my pecks, and I have no nipples. With one hand on my hip and the other on my upper chest, you can see my tarot "the fool" tattoo, my kissing crows, and my sailor mercury star. On my right hand I wear a red glass ring to honor my deity Hestia. I have pail skin, a short brown beard, green curly hair and a gold vertical medusa piercing.
Post-op care was understandably different for me. Since my arms are already short and locked, the limit to my range of arm motion affected me even more. I needed even more help with care tasks than that of an average height/able bodied patient. I was lucky to several loved ones around to help :) Though compared to other surgeries, I was happy that I was able to walk and be more independent for the most part.
I also just want to add: something I see a lot on social media is trans and nonbinary folks seemingly bouncing back from surgery effortlessly. We see them at the beach, posting photos, and it gives the illusion that top/gender affirming surgery isn't the painful, emotional, difficult thing that it is. IT'S OKAY IF YOU DON'T FEEL QUEER JOY IMMEDIATELY AFTER SURGERY!! It takes a while to heal and bounce back because it is a lot on your body! Take your time, and give your body the love and care it needs!
Anyway I hope this all was helpful/educational - and I wish all my queer, trans, and otherwise gender diverse followers a lovely day!!
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sissylittlefeather · 2 days
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Your Love's Been A Long Time Coming: Chapter 5
A/N: I'm sorry this took me so long. I've been dealing with a lot of writers block and I'm honestly not even sure this is any good. I have so much for Elvis and Viv that I want to get to. I hope people continue to read it. Or I'll just write it for me. But if you do read it, please please please leave a comment. I live for comments.
Need to catch up? Here is my masterlist.
Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, cussing, oral sex (m receiving), swallowing, teensy bit of angst
Word count: ~2.4k
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Oh, Elvis, she thinks. Why won't you come and rescue me from myself?
******
In December of 1962, Elvis brings Priscilla over from Germany in an attempt to stop thinking about Vivian. He hosts a New Year's Eve party and invites everyone, including her. He's hoping that seeing Viv and Priscilla in the same room will help him realize that Viv is not what he's looking for. He's been thinking about it a lot and honestly, she's too independent anyway. She probably wouldn't make a good wife. Priscilla, on the other hand, is young enough to still be molded and she seems ready to do whatever he asks. Isn't that what a wife should be? He repeats it like a mantra: not Vivian. Not Vivian. Not Vivian.
At the party, Priscilla and Viv reconnect briefly. He forgot they had known each other in Germany. Elvis nods and smiles awkwardly and then she turns to move around the party, leaving him with Cilla by his side. For the most part, he's successful in staying focused on Cilla. He catches glimpses of Viv briefly as she walks through the crowd, always with a drink in her hand.
Finally, he finds himself next to her at the table with the food in the dining room with no one else around.
"You're really serious about this thing with Priscilla?" Viv asks with her eyebrows raised.
"Yeah. Why?"
"She's a teenager."
"She makes sense to me, Viv." Vivian shrugs and concedes.
"I can't argue with that. She's not very complicated, so I believe that she makes sense to you." Elvis turns to look at her suddenly. Is she jealous?
"That's not fair, Viv."
"Is it not? I'm sorry. I just think you need someone more like..." She stops short of what she was going to say. He has an idea of how that sentence would've ended, though. "It doesn't matter. You like simplicity."
Something between rage and frustration bubbles up inside him.
"Which one of my friends are you fucking tonight, Viv?" He immediately regrets saying it as her mouth pops open and her eyes get glassy. "I'm sorry-"
"No, that's fair. Maybe Red." She turns and walks away from him quickly.
"Viv!" He calls after her but she doesn't turn around. "Goddamnit."
"You okay?" Elvis hears Cilla and works to recover his facade, turning to face her.
"Oh yeah, it's nothing, baby." She smiles and he is filled with the desire to take the stairs two at a time and go to bed. Alone.
******
Vivian sits in the bathroom trying to compose herself after her conversation with Elvis. She's a joke to him. And this girl, this Priscilla, she's what he wants. She'll never be that. She wasn't that sweet and demure even when she was 17.
Someone knocks on the bathroom door and she wipes her tears, assessing her makeup in the mirror, and opens it. It's Red. But despite what she said earlier, she pushes past him and goes straight to the front door. She has no desire to see Elvis and Priscilla kiss at midnight.
******
Elvis and Vivian avoid each other as much as possible before the spring of '63 when they both pick up the film Fun in Acapulco. Viv still hasn't managed to land another speaking part, but her work as an extra keeps her paid enough to eat. And when it doesn't, Elvis makes sure she's taken care of.
Filming the same movie means being on set together and after their last encounter, it's pretty awkward. Still, when Elvis finds himself in a particular predicament, she's the only one he can find to help.
His least favorite part of this movie is the pair of tiny blue shorts they have him wearing in several scenes. They're a lot like the ones from Blue Hawaii, but for some reason these just won't come off, especially when they're wet.
That's how Elvis finds himself in this situation. He has to go the bathroom. Badly. But they're in the middle of filming. Once the director finally calls cut, he's absolutely ready to burst. He makes his way to his trailer, frantically trying to figure out how to get his shorts off. Thats when he sees Vivian.
"Viv!" She stops dead in her tracks, recognizing his voice. She turns to him.
"What, Elvis?"
"I need your help." His desperation is palpable.
"With what?"
"Just come with me, please." He grabs her hand and practically drags her to his trailer. Once inside, he shuts the door and turns to her. "I have to pee so bad I might die."
"Okay? What does that have to-"
"I can't get these fucking shorts off, Viv."
"Oh, shit."
"I'm going to piss myself."
"Well, they're already wet." He looks at her with panic on his face.
"Are you gonna help me or not?!" She tries to focus and make sure she doesn't laugh.
"Yes, come here." She tries to tug on the shorts, but they don't budge.
"What if I kinda lift them off of me before you pull."
"Yeah, let's try that." Vivian gets on her knees in front of him to pull when he says to. He looks down at her on her knees in front of him and looks at the ceiling. He whispers to himself.
"Don't get hard. Don't get hard. Don't get hard."
"What's that?" Viv asks.
"Oh! Nothing." He takes a deep breath and tries to focus on what's happening.
"Okay, I'm gonna count to three. You lift them and I'll pull down. 1... 2... 3!" She gives his shorts a firm tug and they come down to his thighs. What neither of them realized about their plan is that pulling the shorts down means his dick is going to be right in her face.
"Oh, God, I'm sorry." She tries to look away, but he whimpers, trying really hard not to pee on her. Finally, she gets the shorts down his legs and off and he runs into the bathroom. She sits in the living area with his shorts in her hand, laughing quietly.
He opens the door a little and hollers to her.
"Toss me the shorts. I think I can get them back on." But he can't. After about 12 minutes of struggling, he comes out with them stuck on his thighs, his hands covering himself. "Can you...?"
"Yes, I will. Come here." He waddles over to her with his hand still covering himself. He goes back to praying his body won't respond to the image of Vivian on her knees in front of him. He's doing okay, until she gets the shorts up higher and she puts her hand on him gently to try to stuff him into the shorts. He whimpers at her touch and becomes noticeably hard.
"God, I'm sorry..."
"It's okay; it happens, Elvis." She keeps trying to pull the shorts up despite his massive rock-hard erection.
Just then, there's a sharp knock on the door.
"Elvis, we need you back on set. Now." It's the director.
"Uh, just a second?"
"We don't have any more seconds. Wrap up what you're doing and come out. Now." They can tell by the director's tone that he assumes Elvis must be in there having sex with someone. Elvis is annoyed. That would be a much better excuse than what's actually happening.
He looks at Vivian frantically, his dick still standing at full attention with her on her knees trying to tuck it into the shorts. She whispers.
"It's not gonna fit like this. Can you... fix it?"
"Make it go away, you mean? I don't really have time to use my hand. And I can't think it away. That never works for me." It does work sometimes, but he knows it won't with the image of Viv on her knees.
"That settles it, then."
"Settles wh- OH MY GOD VIVIAN." Elvis falls backwards and braces himself as Vivian wraps her mouth around his cock and starts moving. "What the fuck are you doing?!"
He moans softly as she pulls off of him to explain.
"You need this gone. This'll work and it'll be faster than your hand. You want me to stop?" She looks up at him with his dick in her hand.
"No..."
"This is purely functional." She pulls him deep into her throat and sucks on him. His eyes roll back with the sensation of her warm little mouth on him. He's dreamed of this for so long, but the reality is better than he ever could've imagined. Her mouth moves skillfully up and down, complemented by her hand moving his foreskin back and forth. She licks a circle around the head and then deep throats him again. He grunts as his orgasm begins to build and he knows he won't last much longer.
The director pounds on the door again and hollers something, but Elvis is incapable of listening. Viv is working him with her mouth and hand, pulling out all her tricks to get him off as quickly as possible.
"Oh, god, Viv... that's so good..." He moans as she gets him closer and closer to the edge. He's gripping the counter behind him so tightly that his knuckles are white. She pulls back off of him and looks up at him with her big blue eyes, licking the precum off the tip of him.
"Let go, baby. You have to cum. Now." Something about her telling him what to do pushes him the last little bit and he tumbles into a mind-blowing orgasm, shooting his release down her throat. She swallows it easily, sucking until he relaxes, and then stops.
"Holy fuck, Viv..."
"Ah ha!" She cheers as she's finally able to get his shorts up and tuck his package into the front. Standing up, he looks into her eyes and wants to kiss her so badly. Still, despite what just happened, he's not sure he can.
"We're gonna talk about this later."
"Okay."
Just as the director is about to knock again, Elvis opens the door and walks out.
"What? I had to go to the bathroom."
******
Viv waits about ten minutes and then makes her way back to where she's supposed to be filming, in shock over what just happened. And now he wants to talk about it? What is there to say?
******
Elvis doesn't see Vivian again until the summer after the shorts incident. He can't decide if she's purposefully avoiding him or just busy, but she stays away. Part of him wonders if she's avoiding the conversation they were supposed to have after the blowjob. It never happened.
In July, Elvis is in Memphis just before he leaves for California to meet his costars and start filming his next movie. He comes across Vivian on Beale street.
"Viv!" When she sees him, she looks for an escape and doesn't see one, so she waits for him to catch up to where she is. "Where the hell have you been?"
"I've just been really busy."
"Look, I really need to talk to you. I'm leaving for California at 3. Will you come with me to Graceland? Please?" She looks around again for an exit and then looks back at him.
"Yeah."
"Good!" He grabs her hand and practically drags her to his car. They make small talk about what they've both been doing for the whole drive. Once they get to Graceland, Elvis settles them into the tv room.
"Are we ever going to talk about the head you gave me?" Viv shifts in her seat, obviously uncomfortable.
"What is there to say, Elvis? I sucked your dick to get it back in your shorts. That's it."
"That's it?!" He thinks back to the incredible orgasm he had at her doing. He wouldn't mind it happening again.
"Yeah? That's it." All of a sudden, something else bubbles up inside him and he stands up.
"VIVIAN WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?!"
"Wrong with me?!"
"Do I really mean so little to you that you can suck my cock and have absolutely no feelings about it?!"
"It was just to-"
"Get my shorts on. I know. Why am I just a sex object to you? Something to play with when you've been drinking?"
"What?" He's not talking about the blowjob anymore.
"Why do I mean nothing to you?"
"Elvis... I-"
"Why can't you see how much I-"
"Will you let me finish?!" He sits back down on the couch seething. "You don't mean nothing to me. You mean too much to me."
"Too much? What does that mean?" Vivian rolls her eyes and he's somewhere between wanting to slap her and wanting to kiss her.
"Elvis. Do you remember what I told you when you got in the fight with Joe?"
"Which part?"
"The part about how if I let myself, I could fall in love with you?" His heart pounds wildly in his chest.
"Yeah?"
"I've wanted you since the moment I met you. And not just for sex. Sex is like... I don't even know what it means for me but it's not love and you... I..." His stomach turns over and he's overcome with a need to take her in his arms and show her what love can be. Is she finally admitting what he's felt for all these years?
"Viv." He whispers it and cups her cheek in his hand. She leans into his touch. Just then, there's a knock on the door. Elvis curses loudly and then gets up to answer it. It's the Colonel.
"My boy, we need to head to the airport. You need to be in California soon." Elvis nods and then turns to Vivian, who has followed him up to the foyer. He tucks a stray piece of hair behind her ear.
"We will finish this when I get back, okay?"
She nods.
But he doesn't come back. Not this version of him anyway. The costar he goes to California to meet is a woman named Ann Margaret. And when he meets her, Vivian and all her complications become a distant memory.
But Priscilla? Priscilla won't go down so easily. She moved to the United States to marry him and she won't be deterred by the small matter of him being in love with another woman.
Elvis is trapped between three women and Vivian? She's the quietest of the three with what she assumes is the smallest claim on his heart.
She fades into the background easily, watching the feud that happens between Ann Margaret and Priscilla, her love for him never diminishing, but they never finish the conversation that they started.
******
Until next time!
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Taglist:
@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @deltafalax @jhoneybees @everythingelvispresley @returntopresley
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harley-sunday · 2 days
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Renaissance
Renaissance [noun]
re·​nais·​sance ˌren-ə-ˈsän(t)s  -ˈzän(t)s 
1. capitalized : the period of European history between the 14th and 17th centuries marked by a flourishing of art and literature inspired by ancient times and by the beginnings of modern science 2. often capitalized : a movement or period of great activity (as in literature, science, and the arts) 3. literal translation from French : re-birth
Summary: Charles wins the Monaco Grand Prix.
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x reader
Warnings: None.
Word count: 765 (a short one, I know)
AN: You know I had to come out of retirement after Charles winning his home Grand Prix. Hope you enjoy this little drabble. Please come yell at me in the comments ♥
Part of Rituals
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Charles Leclerc, in 2021, when asked if he has any race rituals: “At every start of the season, until F2, my grandmother used to take my race suits, remove one of the sponsor logos and sew a little cross instead of it. Now grandma is gone, I can’t sew and the ritual is over. I was thinking about keeping a lucky charm in my pocket but then I thought to myself: if you need an object [to feel better], then you are missing something on the mental aspect, so I let it go.”
[Angel of God, my guardian dear,]
The ritual is not over.
You can sew and the ritual is not over. 
Charles took pole today, you can sew, and the ritual is not over.
[To whom God's love commits me here,]
It’s late. It’s late and with the rest of the world asleep you are wide awake, hunched over in a chair, with the red of the Ferrari race suit draped across your legs, and the floor lamp casting a golden glow over your lone figure. You caught a glimpse of yourself in the window earlier, the scene eerily reminiscent of a renaissance painting you saw in the Musée des Beaux-Arts in Nice last year. 
Freddy is sleeping at your feet, tired after spending yet another day barking at race cars from the safety of the balcony. The gray hairs around his nose are becoming more and more prominent, a cruel reminder of his upcoming sixth birthday next month. Except for Freddy’s soft snores, the house is quiet, and it almost feels like a sanctuary. 
[Ever this day, be at my side,]
Modern Formula One suits don’t have sponsor patches, everything is printed on, and so instead of having to decide which patch to remove, you try to find a piece of thread that matches the yellow of the Ferrari logo. There’s no exact match, everything you have is a slightly different shade, and after a few minutes you give up and take out a bobbin with black thread instead. 
It’s been years since you’ve last sewn something but your muscle memory makes feeding the thread through the eye of the needle easy. You pick up the fabric and set to work, using a simple back stitch to sew a cross in the black of the Ferrari horse. No one will even know it’s there, not unless they look closely, and people hardly ever do. It only takes a couple of minutes to finish and once you’re done you run your fingers over the stitches, while you say a quiet prayer. 
Careful not to disturb Freddy, you get up then and drape the suit back over the chair, making sure it looks untouched. You leave the light on, it’s almost morning anyway, and make your way back to the bedroom. 
Charles stirs when you lay down next to him and when you settle into him you can feel him press a kiss to your forehead, “Lucie is back to sleep?” 
For a moment you’re confused, not sure what he means, but then you remember you told him you’d go check on your daughter earlier. You nod and tilt your head back so he can let his lips ghost over yours, “She is. You should be as well, chéri. You’ve got a race to win tomorrow.” 
[To light and guard, Rule and guide.]
Charles takes it all in from the top step of the podium, lets his eyes wander over the sea of people below him, the water in Port Hercule glistening in the distance. He can feel his smile growing wider when he finds his family in the cheering crowd - his mom and his brothers looking at him with watery eyes and soft smiles, and her, with their daughter perched on her hip, biting her lip to keep from crying. He wants nothing more than to hug them, hold them close, and celebrate with them, but he knows that will come later, in the quiet hours after the public celebrations, back in the sanctity of their home.
It’s time for the national anthem and so Charles takes his cap off and places his hand over his heart. When his fingers graze over what he quickly realizes is a cross, embroidered onto the Ferrari horse, he has to swallow back tears. He didn’t see it before the race, doubt anyone has, but now that he knows it’s there he never wants to race without it ever again. 
The ritual is not over and Charles Leclerc is a Monaco Grand Prix race winner.
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