#me: wow i really do not have any time to draw today!! i should just do something simple and fast

[readsaboutreid]

Everything To Me

summary: Spencer is in love with his coworker and best friend and goes all out to celebrate her birthday on the day after when she catches her boyfriend in bed with another woman when they arrive home from a case.

this is 100% season 1 spencer

warning: cheating, making out, angst/comfort

“(Y/N)! Wait up!” Spencer stumbled, tripping over his feet as he hurried to catch the elevator with his friend. He covered the distance from his desk to the elevator doors in record time as (Y/N) hit the button to presumably hold open the doors for him. He slid in and stood next to her while panting lightly. He really needed to do some cardio, he noted to himself.

“Wow, with speed like that I should start calling you Barry Allen,” she giggled, making Spencer's heart flutter in the best and most terrifying way and drawing a laugh out of his throat (even though he didn’t really get the reference). He couldn't help it when all he could think about was how much he wanted to hear that laugh every day for the rest of his life.

“Sorry,” he flashed a sheepish smile at her and ducked his head a little bit as he felt his cheeks heat up slightly.

“Hey, uh, I was wondering if you had any, uh, any plans for the evening? There’s a Star Trek: The Next Generation marathon and I know that’s your favorite Star Trek series so I was thinking maybe we could hang out and maybe get some takeout?"

"That sounds like it would be a hell of a time," she began. Spencer could already feel the incoming, "but I promised Warren I'd spend the evening with him since it's my birthday and all." Spencer had to keep himself from making a face at the mention of her asshole of a boyfriend, not wanting to upset her, and so instead he opted to skip over that and react to the next part of her statement.

"Wait it's your birthday? Why didn't you say anything? We all would have done something to celebrate before going home today," Spencer started kicking himself internally. How could he not have known today was her birthday? The two of them had become attached at the hip pretty much since she started at the BAU 4 months ago. She had even celebrated his own birthday with him and the rest of the team.

“Hey, it’s okay! You don’t need to feel bad or anything, I tend to just treat my birthday like it’s any other day so I often just don't even tell anyone when it is,” she shot him a sweet smile in an attempt to assure him that it was okay but it didn't make him feel any less guilty.

Spencer's heart sank a bit at the thought of not being able to celebrate (Y/N)'s birthday with her, but he knew Warren was important to her regardless of how much Spencer and the team disliked him. He mustered a smile and nodded, "No worries, spending time with Warren sounds great. Happy birthday, (Y/N). I hope your day is as wonderful as you are."

(Y/N) blushed at the compliment, waving it off modestly. The elevator dinged softly, indicating they had reached the ground floor. As the doors slid open, they stepped out into the bustling lobby of the FBI building. Spencer glanced at his watch and realized it was already late in the evening.

"Well, I should let you get going. Have a fantastic birthday night with Warren," Spencer said, trying to hide his disappointment behind a cheerful facade.

"Thank you, Spencer. I really appreciate it. We should definitely catch that Star Trek marathon another time," she replied with a warm smile before turning to head towards the exit.

Later in the evening, Spencer found himself sitting on his worn-out couch, a container of lukewarm Chinese takeout resting in his lap as he absentmindedly watched reruns of Star Trek. His mind kept wandering back to the encounter in the elevator with (Y/N) earlier that day. The missed opportunity to spend her birthday with her weighed heavily on his heart.

Just as Captain Picard was about to make a diplomatic decision that could change the course of an entire star system, Spencer's phone rang, jolting him out of his thoughts. He glanced at the screen to see (Y/N)'s name flashing brightly.

With a mixture of confusion and worry, he answered the call. "Hey, (Y/N), is everything okay?" His heart clenched at the sound of her quiet sobs on the other end of the line.

"Spencer," her voice cracked, "can you... can you come pick me up?"

Without another word, Spencer sprang into action. "Of course, (Y/N). I'll be right there. Where are you?" Spencer's voice was filled with concern as he quickly grabbed his keys and rushed out the door, leaving behind the half-eaten container of Chinese takeout and the flickering TV screen showing Star Trek.

As he drove through the quiet streets towards (Y/N)'s location, thoughts raced through Spencer's mind. Why was she crying? What had happened? He couldn't bear the thought of her in distress, especially on her birthday.

Finally reaching the spot where she said she would be, Spencer spotted (Y/N) sitting on a bench outside of a sketchy looking apartment complex, her head buried in her hands. He parked the car and hurried over to her, his heart breaking at the sight of her tear-streaked face.

"(Y/N), what's wrong?" Spencer knelt down beside her, gently placing a hand on her back. She looked up at him with red, puffy eyes, and he felt a crack in his chest

as her trembling voice filled the cool night air.

"I... I waited for Warren at my apartment, but he never showed up or called. I got worried and went to his place," she paused, taking a shuddering breath before continuing, "I let myself in with my key, and... and I found him in bed with another woman."

Shock rippled through Spencer as he struggled to process her words. The image of (Y/N) standing in the doorway of Warren's apartment, witnessing such a betrayal, tore at his heart. Anger flared within him, directed not only at Warren but at the unfairness of it all. How could someone as kind and genuine as (Y/N) be treated so callously?

Without hesitation, Spencer pulled (Y/N) into a tight embrace, offering her solace in the warmth of his arms. He felt her tears soak into his shirt as she clung to him, seeking comfort amidst the storm of emotions raging within her.

As she sobbed into his chest he felt tears pricking his own eyes. He gently cupped her head and started stroking her hair in an attempt to soothe her before saying, “let’s get you into the car, okay?”

As Spencer led (Y/N) to his car, he couldn't shake the image of her devastated face from his mind. The weight of her heartbreak hung heavy in the air, suffocating him with a sense of helplessness. He opened the car door for her, watching as she settled into the passenger seat with a heavy sigh.

"I'm so sorry, (Y/N)," Spencer murmured softly as he started the engine, casting a sympathetic glance her way. "You deserve so much better than this."

(Y/N) let out a bitter laugh, devoid of any humor. "I should have known better than to get my hopes up. This is why I never celebrate my birthday. It’s more trouble than it’s worth," she confessed, her voice laced with resignation and nothing more than a whisper by the very end. Spencer's heart clenched at her words. He wanted nothing more than to ease her pain, to show her that she deserved all the love and happiness in the world.

"You deserve to be celebrated, (Y/N)," Spencer said with conviction, his eyes meeting hers in the dim light of the car. "No one has the right to make you feel otherwise. You are kind, beautiful, and deserving of all the love and joy that life has to offer."

Spencer's words echoed in (Y/N)'s mind as they drove through the quiet streets of the city, the soft glow of streetlights casting a serene ambiance over the car. The heaviness of her heart began to lift ever so slightly, buoyed by the sincerity in Spencer's eyes and the comfort of his presence beside her.

As they reached a stoplight, Spencer turned to (Y/N) with a tentative smile. "How about we make a detour?" he suggested gently. "There's this little ice cream shop a few blocks away. Maybe some ice cream might help lift your spirits."

(Y/N) managed a small smile in return, touched by Spencer's thoughtfulness. The simple gesture felt like a ray of sunshine breaking through the storm clouds that had gathered around her heart. "That sounds nice," she replied softly, her voice still tinged with sadness but with a glimmer of gratitude shining through.

They parked near the ice cream shop, its cheerful neon sign beckoning them inside. The bell above the door jingled as they stepped in, greeted by the sweet scent of freshly made waffle cones and a colorful display of ice cream flavors. Spencer guided (Y/N) to a cozy booth by the window, where they could watch the world pass by as they indulged in their frozen treats.

As they savored their ice cream, the heaviness in (Y/N)'s heart began to thaw, melting away with each spoonful of creamy sweetness. Spencer listened attentively as she shared snippets of her favorite childhood memories, her voice soft and wistful against the backdrop of cheerful chatter from other customers.

Once they had finished their ice cream, Spencer suggested another detour. "There's this little vintage store down the street that always has some classic movies on sale. How about we pick up one of your favorites and head back to my place to watch it?”

(Y/N) hesitated before saying, “I don’t know about picking up anything from a store but is that Star Trek marathon still on?” The slight amount of hope in her voice made Spencer’s heart flutter with a mix of relief and warmth. He had been longing for a chance to make her smile, to see a glimmer of happiness light up her eyes once more.

Nodding enthusiastically, he replied, "Absolutely! We can swing by the store another time. For now, let's head straight to my place for that Star Trek marathon." The anticipation in (Y/N)'s eyes was palpable as they made their way to Spencer's cozy apartment. The familiar scent of old books and fresh laundry greeted them as they stepped inside, the soft glow of string lights casting a warm ambiance over the living room.

Spencer turned the TV back on, dimming the lights to create a cozy home-theater atmosphere. They settled on the couch, surrounded by plush pillows and soft blankets, basking in the nostalgic thrill of the sci-fi classic unfolding on the screen.

As the episode played on, Spencer got up and reheated the Chinese food from earlier and putting it on plates for each of them. He grabbed himself a fork and got one of the sets of chopsticks from the restaurant for (Y/N). As he made his way back to the living room he saw (Y/N) happily rocking back and forth as she watched Data and Geordi share another one of their intriguing engineering discussions. Spencer couldn't help but smile at the sight, a flicker of contentment lighting up his own heart as he handed (Y/N) the plate with her food and settled back onto the couch beside her.

Between bites of General Tso's chicken and sips of hot tea, Spencer couldn't help but feel a sense of peace settle over him. The soft glow of the TV cast shadows across the room, creating a cocoon of warmth and familiarity around them. The gentle hum of the spaceship's engines on screen seemed to lull them both into a comfortable silence, broken only by the occasional chuckle or comment about the characters.

After a few episodes, Spencer found himself stealing glances at (Y/N) out of the corner of his eye, admiring the soft curve of her profile as she watched intently. He could see a spark of joy in her eyes, a fleeting moment of escape from the weight of unspoken emotions that lingered between them. Sensing a rare moment of vulnerability, Spencer cleared his throat softly before turning to (Y/N) with a gentle smile.

"Hey, (Y/N)," he began, his voice soft and tentative. "I was wondering... If you could have done anything for your birthday today, what would it have been?"

(Y/N) paused, her gaze shifting from the screen to Spencer. Her expression softened as she considered the question, a faint blush dusting her cheeks. "You know, I've always wanted to visit the Smithsonian," she murmured, her eyes distant with longing. "And maybe the Botanic Gardens too... It's on my list of things to do someday."

Spencer nodded, committing her words to memory as he filed away the simple desires she shared. He made a mental note to himself, silently vowing to make those dreams a reality for her someday.

As they finished the last episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation, Spencer noticed the clock on the wall ticking closer to midnight. With a sense of reluctance, he turned to (Y/N) and said, "I hate to cut this short, but it's getting late. I should call a cab for you."

(Y/N) looked up at him, a mixture of disappointment and understanding in her eyes. She nodded quietly, gathering her things and slipping on her coat. As Spencer dialed for a cab, he couldn't shake off the feeling of missed opportunities hanging heavy in the air.

The subdued sound of the approaching cab echoed through the quiet street outside. Spencer opened the door for (Y/N), his gaze lingering on her for a moment longer than necessary. "I'll be picking you up at 11 am tomorrow so be dressed and ready," he said, surprising both himself and (Y/N) with his sudden declaration.

Confusion flashed across her face as she stammered, "But... why? Where are we going?"

"Just make sure you’re ready,” he smiled, ideas blossoming in his mind as he decided he was going to show her what her birthday meant to him. He closed the cab door behind her and waved as the car drove off before turning on his heel and heading back inside, preparing to show his best friend the time of her life tomorrow.

Spencer woke up at 8 am the next morning to the soft rays of sunlight filtering through the curtains, illuminating his room in a golden hue. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he stretched his arms above his head and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. Today was going to be special; he was determined to make it a day that (Y/N) would never forget.

Remembering her mention once that morning glories were her favorite flower, Spencer decided to start by weaving a delicate flower crown out of the vibrant blooms he had picked from his backyard garden. As he carefully intertwined the petals and vines into a crown fit for a queen, he couldn't help but smile at the thought of seeing (Y/N) wear it.

After finishing the flower crown, Spencer's thoughts drifted to a memory she had shared with him long ago. Before her parents had passed away, they used to build her a pillow fort and hang fairy lights in it on special occasions. Determined to recreate that sense of childhood magic for her, Spencer set about constructing a fort in his living room. He gathered every pillow and blanket he could find, stacking them strategically to form the walls of the fort. With a bit of effort and creativity, he managed to fashion an elaborate yet cozy hideaway filled with soft cushions and twinkling fairy lights. His PhD in Engineering was finally seeing some use.

As he stepped back to admire his handiwork, Spencer's heart swelled with a mix of emotions. The soft glow of the lights cast a warm, inviting aura over the fort, creating an atmosphere of whimsy and nostalgia. He could almost picture the look of wonder on (Y/N)'s face when she saw it, and the thought filled him with a sense of anticipation.

With the fort completed, Spencer glanced at the clock and realized it was almost time to pick up (Y/N). Quickly changing into a clean shirt and vest and grabbing the flower crown he had made earlier, he made his way out the door, excitement bubbling in his chest.

As he drove to (Y/N)'s apartment, Spencer's mind was a whirlwind of nerves and anticipation. He parked the car a few blocks away, wanting to give himself a moment to compose himself before their day together began. Taking a deep breath, he stepped out onto the sidewalk and started the short walk to her building.

The street was alive with the sounds of the city waking up - the distant hum of traffic, the chatter of early risers going about their day. But in Spencer's mind, all he could focus on was the image of (Y/N) in his mind, wearing the flower crown he had made for her.

Finally reaching her apartment building, he climbed the steps to her floor, his heart pounding in his chest. Standing in front of her door, he took one last deep breath before lifting his hand to knock.

The sound echoed through the hallway, reverberating in Spencer's ears as he waited with bated breath. After what felt like an eternity, he heard footsteps approaching from inside the apartment. The soft shuffling of footsteps grew louder, and Spencer's pulse quickened in anticipation. Suddenly, the gentle click of the door being unlocked filled the air, and it slowly swung open to reveal (Y/N) standing before him.

She looked breathtaking. (Y/N) was wearing a simple yet elegant dress with cute buttons lining the front and a delicate peter pan collar. Her chin length bob was slightly curved under her chin and her bangs fell across her forehead in such a perfect way and Spencer looked away quickly, his cheeks burning when he realized he was staring. For a moment, they stood there in silence, the air thick with unspoken words and emotions.

Then, Spencer slowly brought forward the flower crown he had hidden behind his back, holding it out towards (Y/N) with a shaky hand. “Happy birthday," he finally whispered, his voice barely above a breath as he nervously offered her the crown. The soft petals of the flowers brushed against her fingertips, and (Y/N)'s eyes widened in surprise and delight as she took the flower crown from Spencer's hand. A small gasp escaped her lips as she held the delicate creation, a mix of awe and gratitude shining in her eyes as she looked up at him.

"Spencer, it's beautiful," she murmured as she gently placed it atop her head, her voice soft with emotion. The sun was just beginning to rise, casting a golden glow that illuminated her features, making her look even more ethereal. In that moment, caught in the gentle morning light, Spencer felt a swell of affection for her that threatened to overwhelm him.

After a beat of silence filled with unspoken words hanging in the air between them, Spencer cleared his throat and offered a hesitant smile. "Are you ready to go?" he asked, his heart beating a little faster at the prospect of spending the day with her.

(Y/N) returned his smile with a nod, her eyes sparkling with anticipation as she looped her arm through his, the flower crown perched delicately on her head. They strolled down the bustling street, the city waking up around them with a cacophony of sounds and scents. Spencer couldn't help but steal glances at (Y/N), her presence beside him filling him with a warmth he hadn't felt before.

Their first stop was a cozy bookshop just across the street from her apartment building. The bell above the door chimed softly as they entered, and the scent of aged paper and ink enveloped them in a comforting embrace. Rows upon rows of books lined the shelves, each one whispering promises of new worlds and adventures.

"Pick out as many as you'd like," Spencer said, gesturing to the endless array of titles surrounding them. (Y/N)'s eyes widened in delight, a soft gasp escaping her lips as she wandered through the aisles, her fingers trailing over spines in search of stories. He watched as she made her way through the shelves until she reached the SciFi/Fantasy and Horror section and begin removing books from the shelves, reading the backs and either adding them to the stack in her arms or placing them back on the shelves.

Spencer couldn't help but admire the way (Y/N) immersed herself in the world of books, her eyes alight with a passion that made her even more enchanting. She moved with purpose, carefully selecting each book as if it held a piece of her soul within its pages. His heart swelled with fondness for her, her love for literature reflecting a depth to her character that he found endlessly captivating.

As (Y/N) returned back to him, her arms filled with a stack of books that seemed to reach towards the sky, she gave him a sheepish smile. "I might have gotten a bit carried away," she admitted, a hint of embarrassment coloring her cheeks. “Could you help me narrow things down a little bit?”

Spencer chuckled softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners in amusement. "No need to apologize. Let's see what treasures you've found," he said, reaching out to take a few books from her arms. Together, they perused the titles she had chosen, discussing the plots and themes. After they had no luck in narrowing down the pile, Spencer scooped them all up into his arms in a stack and began making his way to the checkout stand.

"Why bother narrowing it down?" Spencer's voice was filled with a playful lilt as he carried the stack of books towards the checkout counter, (Y/N) trailing behind him with a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

"Impressive selection," the bookstore clerk commented as he rung up the stack of books, each title a window into (Y/N)'s interests and desires. (Y/N) beamed at the compliment, her eyes shining with confusion and gratitude as Spencer pulled out his wallet and paid before she could even reach for her own from her bag.

As they left the bookshop, the sun had climbed higher in the sky, casting a warm glow over the crowded streets. The sounds of the city swirled around them—honking cars, lively chatter, and the distant rumble of a passing train. Spencer glanced over at (Y/N) walking beside him, her face illuminated by a soft radiance.

(Y/N) quickly unlocked the door and placed the bags of books onto her dining room table before they walked back outside. Spencer patiently waited as she locked her door before holding his arm out again for her to grab on to as he lead her to his car.

As they arrived at the Smithsonian Air and Space Museum, Spencer's steps were light with anticipation. The air was alive with the promise of discovery, and he couldn't wait to share this world of wonders with (Y/N). The museum loomed before them like a giant treasure trove, its grand architecture a testament to human ingenuity and ambition.

Stepping inside, they were greeted by a vast hall filled with aircraft suspended from the ceiling like metallic birds frozen in flight. (Y/N)'s eyes widened in awe, her gaze flitting from one exhibit to another as Spencer led her through the maze of history and innovation.

"This is the Wright Flyer," Spencer said, pointing towards the iconic biplane that started it all. "It's incredible to think that this simple machine paved the way for all modern aviation."

As they moved deeper into the museum, Spencer's voice became a gentle murmur of knowledge and passion. He regaled (Y/N) with stories of astronauts who dared to venture beyond Earth's atmosphere and the technological advancements that made it all possible. (Y/N) listened with rapt attention, her eyes shimmering with wonder and admiration for both the exhibits and the man beside her.

Each artifact held a story, a piece of history waiting to be unraveled. Spencer's explanations brought life to the static displays, turning them into vibrant tales of human courage and scientific progress. He pointed out the intricate details of each spacecraft, each spacesuit, each photograph, as if they were sacred relics in a grand temple of human achievement.

As they entered the lunar module exhibit, (Y/N) gasped in awe at the sight of the actual spacecraft that had touched the surface of the moon as well as a piece of rock from the moon that was free for visitors to touch. She reached out a hand as if to touch it, but stopped herself, as if afraid to disturb the fragile connection between past and present.

Spencer noticed her hesitation and smiled softly. "It's okay, you can touch it," he encouraged. "Feel the history in your fingers."

(Y/N) tentatively reached out and brushed her fingertips against the cool, pitted surface of the moon rock. A jolt of electricity seemed to pass through her as she made contact, connecting her to a distant world that had once seemed so unreachable. Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears, overwhelmed by the weight of history and the magnitude of human achievement.

Spencer watched her with a mix of admiration and fondness, his heart swelling with a bittersweet ache at the sight of her emotional response. He longed to reach out and comfort her, to share in this moment of vulnerability and connection, but he held back, knowing that some experiences were meant to be felt in solitude.

As they moved on to the space shuttle exhibit, Spencer's voice took on a reverent tone as he explained the intricacies of space travel and the courage of those who dared to venture into the unknown. (Y/N) listened intently, hanging onto his every word as if they were precious treasures. The stories of the astronauts and their daring adventures resonated with her in a way she couldn't quite explain. It was as if each tale of exploration and discovery tugged at something deep within her, awakening a yearning for the stars that had long been dormant.

After exploring the wonders of the cosmos in the Air and Space Museum, Spencer suggested they visit the Museum of Natural History next. (Y/N) eagerly agreed, her curiosity piqued by the promise of delving into the mysteries of the natural world.

The moment they stepped into the museum, a wave of earthy scents enveloped them—the musty aroma of ancient fossils, the fresh green fragrance of preserved plants, and the tangy scent of minerals. (Y/N) took a deep breath, savoring the rich tapestry of odors that surrounded her as they ventured deeper into the exhibits.

Spencer guided her through halls filled with towering skeletons of dinosaurs, exotic taxidermy specimens, and sparkling gemstones that seemed to whisper tales of ancient worlds and forgotten creatures. His voice, now a gentle hum of fascination, wove intricate stories of the natural wonders before them, each exhibit a chapter in the never-ending book of Earth's history.

With every step, (Y/N) felt herself being transported back in time, her senses overwhelmed by the sights, sounds, and scents of a world long gone yet preserved within the walls of the museum. She marveled at the sheer diversity of life that had once inhabited the planet, from the majestic bones of a towering T-Rex to the delicate wings of a butterfly frozen in time.

As they reached the Butterfly Pavilion, (Y/N)'s eyes lit up with childlike excitement. She walked among the lush greenery, her fingers gently trailing over velvety leaves and vibrant petals as she inspected each plant with keen interest. Spencer watched her with a soft smile, his admiration for her knowledge and passion shining in his eyes.

"It’s like stepping into a living kaleidoscope," (Y/N) breathed, her voice hushed with wonder. "Each butterfly and moth, every plant here tells a story of adaptation and survival. Look at this one," she gestured to a plump monarch butterfly sipping nectar from a bright orange bloom, "did you know they migrate for thousands of miles to escape the cold?"

Spencer was happy to listen intently to her spout knowledge that he already held, captivated by the gleam in her eyes and the animated gestures that accompanied each explanation. He found himself falling even more deeply under her spell as she shared her wealth of knowledge, her voice growing more animated with each tidbit of information.

As they wandered through the pavilion, (Y/N) pointed out the intricate patterns on the butterflies' wings, explaining their purpose and significance with a mix of scientific precision and unbridled enthusiasm. Spencer couldn't help but be swept up in her passion, feeling a warmth bloom in his chest at the sight of her so fully immersed in her element. Her rarely used PhDs in Botany and Microbiology shone brightly through her words and actions as she explained the importance of every living thing within the enclosure down to the network of fungal mycelium in the dirt, making Spencer see her in a whole new light. The way she spoke about each species of butterfly or moth, each plant or fungus they saw, showcased not only her expertise but also her deep love and respect for the natural world.

Spencer found himself hanging onto her every word, just as she had done with his tales of space exploration earlier. He admired the way her eyes sparkled with excitement, the way her hands gestured animatedly as if conducting a symphony of knowledge and wonder.

As they reached a secluded corner of the pavilion, (Y/N) knelt down beside a cluster of milkweed plants, her voice soft and reverent as she explained their importance to the monarch butterflies. Spencer watched her intently, a sense of peace settling over him as he observed her in her element. He then checked his watch, his eyes widening in realization as he saw the time. They were going to be late for the dinner reservation he had managed to secure at the new Italian restaurant (Y/N) had been longing to try for months. With a gentle touch on her shoulder, Spencer interrupted her explanation about the symbiotic relationship between the milkweed plants and monarch butterflies.

"(Y/N), as much as I hate to interrupt your fascinating lesson, we should start heading out. We have a dinner reservation," Spencer said apologetically, a hint of regret in his tone.

Startled by the mention of dinner, (Y/N) straightened up, her eyes widening in surprise before a sheepish smile crossed her face. "Oh gosh, I completely lost track of time! I'm so sorry, Spencer. Let's go."

They hurried through the Butterfly Pavilion, their steps quickening as they made their way to the exit. Spencer opened the passenger door for her as they approached his car, and they soon found themselves seated inside as Spencer started the engine. The warmth of the setting sun bathed the interior in a golden glow, casting long shadows across (Y/N)'s face as she fastened her seatbelt. She glanced over at Spencer, her eyes shining with a mix of excitement and anticipation for the evening ahead.

The drive to the Italian restaurant was filled with comfortable silence, the only sound the soft hum of the radio playing a mellow jazz tune in the background. Spencer stole glances at (Y/N) from time to time, admiring how the fading light accentuated her features, casting her in a soft, ethereal glow.

Arriving at the restaurant, they were greeted by the tantalizing aroma of garlic and tomato sauce wafting through the air. The cozy ambiance of the place enveloped them as they were led to their table, nestled in a corner with a flickering candle casting dancing shadows on their faces.

As they perused the menu, (Y/N)'s eyes widened in delight as she scanned the offerings, her excitement palpable. Spencer couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm, feeling a warmth in his chest that had nothing to do with the romantic candlelight surrounding them. This moment, this simple act of sharing a meal with her, felt like a glimpse into the life he had always wanted but never dared to reach for.

Their conversation flowed effortlessly, filled with laughter and shared stories. (Y/N)'s eyes sparkled with joy as she recounted a hilarious mishap at work, and Spencer found himself hanging onto her every word once again. It was moments like these that made him forget about his own worries and fears, immersing himself in the present moment.

As the waiter brought out their food, the table was soon filled with plates of steaming pasta and fragrant sauces. The first bite sent a burst of flavors dancing on (Y/N)'s tongue, and she couldn't help but close her eyes in bliss. Spencer watched her savor each mouthful, her expression a symphony of delight and contentment. The flickering candlelight played on her face, accentuating the curve of her smile and the sparkle in her eyes.

Spencer's gaze lingered on her, a sense of longing tugging at his heart. He wanted to freeze this moment in time, to etch it into his memory forever. The warmth of the restaurant, the soft glow of the candle, the sound of (Y/N)'s laughter – all of it wove together into a tapestry of perfect happiness.

But beneath the surface of their shared joy, Spencer felt a pang of bittersweet realization. This was just a moment, a fleeting interlude in their lives. Tomorrow, they would return to their separate paths, their separate dreams.

As (Y/N) reached for her glass of wine, her hand brushed against his, sending a jolt of electricity through him. Their eyes met, and in that brief moment of connection, Spencer felt a surge of courage wash over him. As they finished their meals, the waiter returned to their table with a flourish, presenting a tray of decadent desserts that Spencer had secretly ordered while (Y/N) was in the bathroom. A smile played on his lips as he watched her eyes widen in surprise and delight at the unexpected treat.

"Spencer, you didn't have to do this," she murmured, her voice soft with gratitude.

"It's my pleasure," he replied, his tone gentle yet tinged with a hint of nervousness. "Would you like to enjoy it here or take it to go and eat it while watching something?"

(Y/N) hesitated for a moment, her gaze flickering between the cozy restaurant ambiance and the promise of a quiet moment elsewhere. After a brief pause, she decided, "Let's take it to go."

Spencer nodded in agreement and politely requested the bill. As he settled the payment, a sense of resolve settled in him, guiding his actions as they left the restaurant. The cool night air caressed their skin as they walked towards Spencer's car parked just around the corner. He opened the passenger door for her, a gesture that was both chivalrous and intimate.

As they drove through the city streets, (Y/N) couldn't shake off the feeling of curiosity that gnawed at her mind. Why were they headed to Spencer's apartment instead of hers, as she had anticipated? Her thoughts raced, trying to find an explanation for this unexpected turn of events.

Upon arriving at his apartment building, Spencer handed her the to-go boxes with their desserts before unlocking the door. A sense of bewilderment washed over (Y/N) as she followed him inside. Before she could voice her confusion, Spencer moved behind her and gently covered her eyes with his hands, guiding her further into his apartment.

The faint scent of his cologne lingered in the air as (Y/N) let herself be led by Spencer through the dimly lit hallway. Her heart raced with a mix of anticipation and curiosity, her trust in him unwavering as he guided her with careful steps. The soft shuffle of their feet echoed in the corridor, creating a rhythm that seemed to match the beat of her own pulse.

After what felt like an eternity of darkness behind her closed eyelids, Spencer's hands finally left (Y/N)'s eyes, revealing a mesmerizing sight before her. As she blinked away the temporary blindness, a gasp escaped her lips at the magical scene that unfolded in front of her.

The room was transformed into a whimsical wonderland – an elaborate pillow fort stretched across the space, twinkling with fairy lights that cast a warm, inviting glow. Soft blankets cascaded down like waterfalls, creating nooks and crannies that held the promise of cozy comfort. The air was scented with old books, eucalyptus, and lavender, adding to the ethereal atmosphere that surrounded them.

Spencer watched (Y/N) with bated breath as she took in the sight before her. The flickering lights danced across her face, illuminating the awe and wonder reflected in her eyes. It was a moment frozen in time, suspended between reality and a dream.

"Happy birthday, (Y/N)," Spencer's voice was barely a whisper, filled with a vulnerability that he had never dared to show before.

Tears welled up in (Y/N)'s eyes, moved by the effort and thoughtfulness he had put into creating this enchanting surprise. She turned to face him, her heart overflowing with emotions she struggled to put into words.

"Spencer, this is... it's perfect," she finally managed to say, her voice trembling with emotion. She reached out to grasp his hand, holding onto it as though afraid this magical moment would slip away if she let go.

As they settled into the cocoon of blankets and pillows, Spencer grabbed his laptop from his desk and popped a DVD into the disc player. The opening to a movie he had never seen but had heard her talk about multiple times, Clueless, played in the background but all he could do was look at her. Under the twinkling of the fairy lights he could almost swear she had to be a fairy herself. That’s the only thing he could think of that would explain her beauty.

As the movie played on (Y/N) explained to Spencer that it was actually an adaptation of her favorite novel by Jane Austen, Emma, which did little to make him feel the main character was more likeable but watching her happily chatter about the movie filled him with a sense of comfort and affection. This is how it should always be, he thought to himself, wrapping his arms around her as she settled against his chest.

They sat and cuddled in a comfortable silence until it was broken by her voice, soft and timid as she said, “hey Spence?”

“Hm?” He hummed into her hair, his eyes closed.

“Why did you do all of this?” She queried, sounding like she was on the verge of tears, which immediately pulled Spencer from his half asleep haze.

Spencer thought about his next words carefully, taking so long that (Y/N) was about to ask if he had fallen asleep before he finally responded. “After seeing you so heartbroken last night and seeing how Warren just tossed you aside like you didn’t matter I just felt like I should show you how much it means to me that you exist." His voice was gentle, barely a whisper as he confessed the depth of his feelings for her.

(Y/N) felt her breath catch in her throat at his words. The vulnerability in his voice touched her heart in a way she had never experienced before. She turned to look into his eyes, seeing the sincerity and care reflected back at her.

Tears glistened in her eyes as she reflexively leaned into his hand as he reached to cup her cheek, caressing it with a tenderness that spoke volumes. "Spencer," she murmured, her voice filled with emotion, "you didn’t have to—I’m not worth all this—I-I don’t—"

He placed a finger on her lips, silencing her words. "That’s what I’ve spent all day trying to show you, (Y/N). You are worth it. You are worth everything to me," he whispered, his gaze unwavering.

In that moment, (Y/N) felt a rush of emotions swell within her, a mix of disbelief and overwhelming gratitude. Her heart pounded in her chest as she gazed into Spencer's eyes, seeing a depth of love and sincerity that she had never expected to find. The weight of his words hung heavy in the air, wrapping around them like a warm embrace.

As they sat there, suspended in time, (Y/N) felt a gentle tug at her heart urging her to lean forward. She hesitated for a moment, uncertainty clouding her mind as she debated the implications of such a gesture. Could she allow herself to be vulnerable again after everything she had been through? Was it worth risking her heart for the possibility of something more?

But before she could overthink it any further, Spencer's gaze softened even more as he leaned in towards her. In the briefest moment of hesitation, his lips hovered centimeters away from hers, silently asking for permission. And just as he began to pull back, (Y/N) plunged forward, closing the distance between them as she pressed her lips against Spencer's. It was a tender, tentative kiss filled with all the unspoken words and emotions that had lingered between them for so long. The world seemed to stand still as they shared this intimate moment, their hearts beating in harmony.

Spencer was momentarily stunned by the sudden turn of events, but as he felt (Y/N)'s warmth against his lips, all doubts and insecurities melted away. When they finally pulled away, they were both met with flushed cheeks and wide eyes. There was a charged energy in the air, a newfound connection that sparked between them like a flame igniting in the darkness.

"(Y/N)," Spencer whispered, his voice barely above a breath as he searched her eyes for confirmation.

(Y/N) simply smiled, a radiant expression that lit up her face with joy and relief. “I love you, Spencer,” falls from her lips before she crashes them back against his.

#criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x you #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #light angst #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x fem!reader #criminal minds fanfic

[samandcolbyownme]

Summary: anon request - "hear me out ok .. ok what if reader was getting a tattoo and JAKE is the person who does the tattoos??????"

Warnings: TW needles, getting tattooed, male tattooing female reader, mentions of being in pain and smoking, mainly fluff

Word Count: 5.5K | kind of edited

╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗

"Hello?"

"Hey y/n, it's Corey from Emblem One."

You smile, "oh hey. What's up, Corey?" You sit up and listen to him, " So, Vienna isn't going to be in today, she's got a bad, and I mean bad case of the flu."

You pout slightly, "Oh. Thats too bad. I hope she feels better soon."

"Yeah, me too. I just got done rescheduling her appointments today.. she was booked and busy so it's.. been a day so far." He laughs slightly, "But I know you trust the rest of us, and I was going down over our other appointments and Jake has an earlier opening if you want it."

"Is he the one you were talking about bringing in a few weeks ago?"

"Yeah, that's him. He does pretty sick work, if I do say so myself, but you know that if I didn't think he could do your tattoos, I wouldn't recommend him." Corey chuckles slightly, "I know it's a sternum tattoo, so if you're no-"

"Put me in." You say quickly, "I need tattoo therapy Corey. I can't wait any longer." You laugh and he clicks his tongue, "You got it."

He pauses for a second, "So instead of coming in at six like you were supposed to with V, he can get you in at two thirty. That sound okay?"

"That's absolutely perfect. Thank you so much for calling me."

"Anytime. See you in a little."

"Yep, bye." You hang up, checking the time before getting up to go shower.

You were getting a chest piece done, a floral setting under your boobs with a vine that goes in between them.

You were actually kind of nervous for this one, well.. it wouldn't be as bad if you hadn't let google and all of its pain scale ratings deter your feelings about it.

You tried not to think about it by going to the shops page, looking to see if they posted an introduction to Jake.

They did, and wow is he ever pretty.

You bite your lip, reading down over the basic info that's listed below his picture.

Emblem One would like to introduce our newest artist, Jake Webber. Jake has been tattooing for a few years and he is absolutely incredible. You can swipe to see a few of the pieces that he's done so far, and if you would like to schedule an appointment with Jake, please call the shop and we'll get you set up.

You raise your eyebrows as you swipe through the attached pictures, "Wow." You shake your head, Corey was right, his work is pretty sick.

You find yourself in the comments, and to no surprise, you're reading stuff that definitely should have stayed in the keyboard.

User1: I have no tattoos, but now I want one that will take hours

User2: I have a few openings that I can definitely schedule you in to fill.

User3: I'd leave a wet spot on the table, he's so hot

"People have no chill." You roll your eyes, laughing slightly as you double tap the picture to like it before getting in the shower.

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

You push the door to the tattoo shop open, walking in as you give Corey a smile, "Hey."

He stands up, "What's up, y/n?"

You shake your head, closing the door behind you, "Nothing really, about to get a tattoo." You laugh slightly and he chuckles, "You don't say."

He slides the paper for you to sign, "Are you nervous?"

You sign your name and shrug, "I know it's going to hurt, but I'm so excited for it."

He chuckles and nods, "Yeah, I don't really think it's going to tickle." He nods to the back, "I'll go tell Jake you're here."

He walks back, leaving you alone in the small lobby that you're very familiar with. You walk over, looking at the different paintings and drawings that are on the walls.

You've seen them a bunch of times but they always amaze you.

"Y/n."

You turn, seeing Jake standing there and your eyes move up to meet his - wow, he's a lot taller in person.

You smile, "Yes, hi." You walk over to him, "You must be Jake."

He extends his hand out, "That would be me."

You lay your hand in his and it feels like fireworks are going off inside of your stomach.

"So if you're ready.." he nods towards the door, hand still holding yours, "You can follow me this way."

You nod, blinking a few times as you smile, "Yes. I am more than ready." You slip your hand from his and he gives you a little smirk before walking back the hall.

You follow him back, saying hi to the other artists that are there today.

"You're popular here aren't you?" Jake jokes and you laugh, "I've known Corey since, middle school, I think."

"So you're friends with the owner, how sick is that?" Jake sits down on his stool and you nod, "It has its perks."

You sit your bag down on the extra chair in the corner and shrug your jacket off. You turn around letting out a quiet, but loud enough to catch Jake's attention, "shit."

"Everything okay?" Jake looks up from getting everything set up and you nod, "Yeah, well. I mean no. I wanted to bring an extra shirt with me, just so I didn't get ink all over this one, and I forgot it."

"I have an extra one if you want it." Jake offers and you raise your brows, "Do you really?"

He nods, getting up from his stool, "It's in my car, but I can go out and grab it quick."

"Are you sure?" You tilt your head, "I don't want to be a hassle. I know you have other appointments later."

He shakes his head, "Nah, just one. But that isn't until six or something, so we have plenty of time." He grabs his keys and points to the door, "I'll be right back."

"Thank you!" You say as he walks out. You turn, digging your phone from your bag and bringing it up to text your best friend, I got rescheduled so I'm here at the shop now. Corey put me with the new guy they hired and oh my gosh is he a sweetheart, and oh, he is sooo pretty, too. Go to Emblem One on IG and look. It's their new artist. Jake.

Just as you get done, basically fan girling about Jake, he walks back in, "Here you are."

You take the shirt from his hand and smile, "You are a lifesaver, Jake. Thank you."

He bats the air, "Oh shucks." He laughs slightly and walks towards the door, "I'm going to let you get comfortable, I'll be back in a few."

You watch as he leaves, closing the door behind him.

You take off your shirt off, followed by your bra before slipping on his shirt. Your eyes scan over the black walls, moving over the long mirror hung horizontally against it.

You walk over to the mirror, spending the last few minutes alone trying to figure out how you were going to keep yourself covered while he tattoos.

As you're moving the shirt around, there's a knock on the door and you quickly pull it down, "Come in."

The door opens and Jake walks in, "Comfy cozy?"

You laugh slightly, moving to sit back on the table, "As much as I can get."

"Is there anything else I can do for you before we get started?" He sits down, turning to look at you with a smile.

You tilt your head, "It's more or less how I'm going to stay covered up, I don't want anyone uncomfortable. I seen other shops have hospital gowns that they have people put on backwards.."

He smirks slightly, "I was actually thinking about that out there and, I don't have a hospital gown, but what I can do, is cut the shirt up the middle and then tape it down so you're covered."

"I don't want you ruining your shirt, Jake." You shake your head slightly and he shrugs, "That's an old shirt anyway. I won't miss it."

"Are you sure?" You ask and he smiles as he grabs the scissors, "So. Are we doing this?"

You laugh, moving to stand up, "I guess we are."

He rolls over, pinching the hem of the shirt with his fingers before gliding the scissors upward. You lay your hands on your boobs to keep them covered and your breath hitches quietly as the cool air hits your skin.

"Let me grab the tape."

You nod as you watch him wheel over, grabbing the white tape before coming back over. He look up at you, "If you feel uncomfortable at anytime and need or want me to stop, please tell me."

"You're fine, Jake." You smile.

That wasn't a lie, you were, oddly enough, more comfortable with him than you were with any of your actual guy friends.

"I'm just saying. I don't want you writing a bad yelp review." He tries not to laugh but fails which causes you to laugh, "Oh yeah, I'm going to totally go home after this and write the worst review ever."

"Maybe that'll make the girls in the instagram comments stay away." He snickers as he shakes his head while taping down the shirt to your skin.

"You saw them?" You drop your hands and he look up with a nod, "Oh yeah." He rolls his eyes and sighs, "But I seen you liked it, so thanks for that."

You can feel your cheeks heating as he pushes himself back, "Oh, that. Yeah, i was just.. showing love to my favorite tattoo shop, you know."

Way to play it cool, y/n, you mentally slap yourself as you sit down on the table again.

He chuckles, "No I appreciate that. I know being a new artist to some is kind of scary, but Corey said he would hype me up and it obviously worked, since you're sitting on my table."

You laugh, "he did. Don't worry. He said your art was sick and I have to agree with him. You do some good work, Jake."

He smiles as he holds up a fresh, unopened needle, "Steril, clean." He brings it down to open it up, "Thank you. I appreciate getting that confirmed." He chuckles as he puts everything together.

You make small talk while he gets the stencil ready, asking where you're both from, what you do for work, this and that.

"alright, if you would come stand in front of me." He points with his pinky to the floor in front of him. You walk over to him and he rubs soap onto your skin before shaving the spot the stencil is going to be.

You look in the mirror, watching Jake as he works to get you ready.

"I'm actually nervous about this. I heard this spot hurt."

He smirks, "everyone is different, you know pain tolerance and all, but considering you have a few others, I think you'll be fine. If you need to take a break or two, or five.." he laughs slightly, "Just let me know."

You nod, "Sounds good."

He applies a thin layer of the stencil solution to your skin before turning around to pick up the thin layer of paper, "Alright. Nice and straight and stay as still as you can for me."

You let your hands hang by your sides as you try to control your breathing. You glance in the mirror, watching as Jake smooths out the stencil over your sternum and under your boobs.

"I think, this is going to be a sick ass tattoo." Jake leans back, letting the stencil sit for a few seconds before gently peeling it off, "take a look at that, let me know if you need it moved or anything."

He watches as you turn to look at the stencil in the mirror. You nod, "That's good. I like where it's at."

He nods, "Then we'll let that dry for a few minutes then I guess we'll get right into it." He smiles as he turns away to pour the ink into the little cups.

"I know your post said you've been tattooing for a while, but I'm nosey, so how long is a while exactly?" You sit back down, making sure to keep your body as straight as you can.

He laughs slightly, "Well, if you must know." He glances at you with a smirk, "I was an apprentice for about two years then I worked with an artist in the city for a little bit until I got a call from Corey."

"Did Corey find you on Instagram?" You reach up to run your hand through your hair and Jake laughs, "No, actually. My friend Sam got him in touch with me."

You blink, "Wait. Sam.. what's his last name?"

"Golbach."

"Shut up."

"I'm confused." Jake laughs and you shake your head, "No, no. I know Sam."

"Really? No fuckin' way." Jake's mouth drops open, "How do you know Sam?"

"My family knows his family. Ever since we were little." You shake your head, "That's crazy. Maybe it is a small world after all."

"Yeah, yeah." He smiles, "It sure is."

You smile and after a few seconds of silence, he points, "I'm going to check your stencil if that's okay."

"Oh no." You push your chest out, "Go ahead."

He walks up, gently rubbing his finger over the end part and nods, "Ready?"

You take a deep breath, "I guess so." You laugh as you swing your legs up, lying back on the table. Jake sits down, wheeling himself and the cart over.

You hear the buzzing of the tattoo gun and you take a deep breath. Jake applies a thin layer of Vaseline over the stencil, "Alright. If you need a break at all, let me know."

"Alright." You nod, taking in a deep breath before he anchors your skin down to start.

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

Halfway through the tattoo, you opted for a break.

Jake takes your hand, helping you sit up. You swing your legs over the edge of the table, "Thank you."

He nods, taking off his gloves before shrugging off his jean jacket, revealing a t-shirt with the sleeves cut off.

"I like your tattoos." You smile as your eyes move over his tatted skin. He smiles, "Thanks. I'm kind of an addict when it comes to them."

"Tattoos are hot, so it's okay." You smirk at him as you get up to look into the mirror. He walks up behind you, "Yeah, they really are." His eyes move from your half finished tattoo to your eyes and his lips form into a smirk before he turns away.

"Do you care if I go out and have a smoke real quick?"

You shake your head, "Nope. You're good." You smile at him, "Take your time."

"So sweet." He smiles and pulls the pack from his jacket pocket, "I don't know if you smoke, but I'd feel like it would be rude of me not to offer you one."

You laugh and shake your head, "I only smoke when I'm drinking, or drunk, I should say."

"Nothing wrong with a drink and smoke." He smiles and puts a cigarette between his lips, "I'll be back."

You nod, bending down to get your phone out so you can snap a picture of your tattoo progress. You laugh when you read over the text from your friend, oh my god. He is absolutely beautiful. You're letting him see your tits? Lucky day for both of you lol

You roll your eyes, taking a picture of your current state, He gave me his shirt and cut it so he could keep me covered. He's honestly very respectful, but we're halfway done. I'll send you a picture when it's all done.

You walk back over and toss your phone in your bag before going back to sit on the table. As you sit and wait for Jake, you can't help but think about how you feel like you've known Jake for years.

You clicked with him, so fast that it was actually kind of scary.

"I brought you a water." Jake says as he rounds the corner into the room. You look up, smiling as you take it, "Thank you so much."

You open it, taking a sip before lifting your legs to rest them on the table, "How was your smoke?"

He nods, "It was alright." He laughs as he grabs new gloves, "Don't worry, I washed my hands when I came in."

"No worries, I trust you." You smile, watching as he pulls the black gloves over his hands.

He had nice hands. Very. Nice hands.

"Are you ready to start again?" Jake snaps you out of your stare and you smile, "Yes. Yes I am." You lay back on the table as look over at Jake, "So is this your first sternum piece?"

He looks up at you, "Mm, not really. I did a touch up on one other, but her boyfriend stared me down the whole time."

"Oh I bet that was awkward." You stare up at the ceiling, "I hate that. I hate people in general."

Jake chuckles before he starts tattooing, "I totally get what you mean."

"Oh, I don't hate you. I hope you didn't ta-"

He cuts you off, "Not at all. Not at all." He smiles as he continues, "Don't take this the wrong way, but you have beautiful skin."

You bite down on your lip, smiling as you feel your cheeks turning red, "Thank you? I think."

He leans back, wiping your skin, "I meant that as a compliment, sorry if it didn't sound like one."

"No, no. It did. I just.. never got that compliment before."

"Really?" He shakes his head, "People are missing out to see you smile, then." He glances up at you, and you can tell that he's just as comfortable with you as you are with him.

You didn't really believe in love at first site stuff, but you did believe in that click, and that click is what you have with him.

"Alright, now this part might hurt a lot more than the bottom piece, so if you need another break, just tell me."

You give him a nod, biting down on your lip as he starts the vine that's between your boobs.

"Oh.. gosh.." you take calming breathes as he was right, it does hurt, "you were right."

You close your eyes, trying to think of something else and Jake helps with that.

"Have you lived here long?"

"Kind of." You say instantly, "I've been here a few years. I actually only live a few streets over in the Green Ridge apartment building."

"Nice, nice." Jake wipes away and gives you a little breather, "Do you have any pets?"

"I have a cat." You laugh slightly, "I would love a dog, but my building doesn't have the grass around it for them to go out, you know."

"Oh man. Of course not. What's your cat's name?"

You laugh slightly, "Um. It's mystic. He's a fluffy grey cat and I got the name from The Vampire Diaries." You wince slightly as you feel the needle piercing your skin, "I'll show you a picture when we're done."

"I would love to see it." He smiles as he moves onto the next part, "I don't have any pets. Mainly because I spend most of my time in the shop, whether it's drawings or tattooing, I just like being here."

"Did you draw that moon phase picture above the mirror?" Your eyes move to the frame and back to him, "Yeah I did." He looks up at you with a smile, "it wasn't easy, took me forever but I finally finished it."

"Do you.. think you can draw me a flower piece that connects to the top of this one?"

He nods, "I'd be honored."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

Two hours of talking and tattooing later, Jake is up by your shoulder, leaning over you to finish the top of your tattoo, "We are almost done, sweetheart."

The cute little pet name makes your stomach flip and your cheeks turn pink, "Okay." You say quietly with a smile, "I'm so excited to see it."

"I may be biased, since I'm the one who's doing it, but it's so pretty." He nods, "I like it."

"I'm sure I will too."

"If you don't like it, you can tell me. I promise I'll wait to cry until you leave." He laughs and turns to get more ink.

"I don't think you'll need to cry. From what I already saw, I'm in love with it already." You smile at him and he nods, "I'm glad."

His arm lays over your shoulder, resting under your chin. You close your eyes, feeling the vibrations move through his arm and before you know it.

You're done.

Jake leans back, "Well.." he wipes off your skin, "we're done."

"Already?" You smirk, "That didn't even take long."

He laughs as he helps you sit up, your hand in his and his other on the center of your back, "Take a look."

You glance down before sliding off the table. You walk over to the mirror and your jaw drops, "Oh my god."

"Go easy on me, I'm sensitive." He holds his hands up and laughs.

"No, Jake. This is .. this is beautiful." You turn back to look at it more, "By far my favorite tattoo."

"I'm glad you love it. I love it too." He sprays a paper towel and sits down, "I'm just going to wipe it off some more then take a picture if you don't mind?"

You turn to face him, "I don't mind." You smile as you step towards him, feeling that relief as he wipes over the completed tattoo. (A/n: if you ever had a tattoo, you know exactly what I'm talking about.)

He rests his hand on your hip as his eyes move over the tattoo, wiping it in different spots, "Beautiful."

You look down at him and he smirks, "That tattoo looks pretty good, too." He winks before turning to grab his phone.

Okay, so there's something there. You weren’t imagining it.

You take a deep breath, licking your lips as you turn to look at it in the mirror again, admiring his work.

"Alright." Jake says, "Ready when you are."

You turn back to him, standing up as straight as possible as he snaps a few pictures.

"Got them. I'll probably post it later if you're okay with that?" He looks up at you and you nod, "Whatever you want to do. I'm covered."

"I definitely wouldn't post them if you weren't." He chuckles and points, "Do you want me to take that tape off or did you want to do it at home?"

"You can take it off and I'll just wrap the shirt over and we can slap a new piece on if that'll work?" You motion to pulling the shirt over and he nods, "oh yeah, that will totally work. Do you want me to cover it?"

"Oh yes. Please." You nod and he gives you a thumbs up before turning around to grab some Saniderm. He holds up the piece, "I think that'll be good for the bottom, I'll cut a skinnier piece for the vine part."

You nod, letting him do whatever he needs to do.

He runs his hands over the clear covering and then moves to take the tape off, "If you wanted to grab this side, I'll go ahead and work at getting these pieces off."

"Okay." You hold the side against you as he peels each piece of tape off on the other side before you hold that side of the shirt against you.

You pull the shirt over, holding it there until he grabs a new piece, "Thank you again, for the shirt, for cutting your shirt, and for doing all of this."

"It's not a problem at all, y/n." He smiles as he rubs the piece of tape to stick to the fabric, "Thank you for allowing me to do this."

"Corey said you were good, I just wanted to see how good." You smile and step back. He smiles, "Well I appreciate your curiosity getting the best of you."

"Of course." You nod and go over to grab your jacket, slipping it on before grabbing your bag, "Do you want me to meet you out front then?"

He nods, "Yeah that'll be good."

"Okay." You walk out to the front and Corey looks up, "Well, I see you're alive. How was it?"

"Painful. But.. worth it." You laugh and rest your bag on the counter, "You have a good artist back there."

He tilts his head, "Good as in he does good work, or good as in you like him?" He smirks and you shrug, "Is it okay to say both?"

He chuckles and rolls his eyes, "I guess." His eyes move behind you as Jake walks out. He moves behind you and around to stand next to Corey.

You hand him the money the amount for the tattoo and he squints his eyes, "How much did you and Vienna agree on?"

"Three fifty." You say and Jake laughs, "I'll take two."

You sigh, "then I'm leaving you a big tip."

He chuckles and Corey looks between the two of you, "I have to go.. check on something.. I think." He laughs as he walks away, leaving you and Jake at the desk.

"I'm not leaving until you take it." You rest it down on the counter and Jake sighs, "You're persistent."

"I like to show my appreciation." You smirk and he picks up the cash, "Fine." He smirks and sets it down on the desk, "Are we looking at scheduling another?"

"Is that even a question?" You laugh and Jake sighs, "Yeah, a dumb question." He laughs and looks at his schedule, "When did you want to come back in? For the shoulder connecting piece, right?"

You nod, "Um, we can do like two, three weeks? That should give you enough time to draw it up for me."

"Okay." He bends down, clicking on the computer, "Does the twenty first sound good?"

"That's perfect." You smile and watch as he writes down the date on an appointment card. He hands it to you and right when he's about to say something else, the door opens and you both look over.

A guy walks in, smiling at both of you.

"Hey Matt, I'll be right with you." Jake nods to him and looks back at you. You sigh, "Thanks again, Jake. I really appreciate it."

"Anytime."

And with that, you leave the shop, mentally beating yourself up that you didn't ask him out.

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

A few days later

The last few days have been painful and irritating as you can't really sleep comfortably yet.

So it's two am, you're wide awake, and your phone goes off.

Who could that be, you think as you sit up, leaning over to grab it.

Hey, y/n. It's Jake. I'm so sorry that it's so late but I cannot stop thinking about you.

Your mouth drops slightly as you feel an excited rush roll over your body. You smile, biting your lip as your thumbs quickly tap the screen, Hi Jake. I'm glad to see that we both feel the same way.

You clutch your phone, anxiously awaiting his response.

Okay, wow. This is embarrassing. I honestly didn't expect you to be awake, but then again I'm glad you are. I wanted to ask you out at the shop the other day but I was so fucking nervous.

You giggle slightly, happy that you finally got the message you were waiting for, or waiting for the courage to send.

You tap the screen biting down on your lip as you send the message, You're literally taking the words right out of my mouth. I was so nervous, too.

You see the bubbles pop up, disappear, and then pop up again before he finally sends his message, This might be a long shot, but what are you doing right now?

You look at your screen confused but you answer, I can't sleep so I'm just lying in bed wide awake.

He answers, almost instantly, Do you want to take a drive?

You answer instantly, Yes, please.

You send him your address and he responds, I'll be there in twenty, I'll text you when I'm there.

You kick the blankets off, hurrying over to grab a pair of sweats and a sweatshirt from your closet. You brush your hair, not worrying about anything else before you walk out to your living room to wait.

You were kind of nervous, but at the same time, you were so excited to see him.

Twenty minutes later, your phone lights up and it's a text from Jake, I'm parked out front in the Tesla.

You grab your bag, making sure you have your keys before walking out of the door. You walk down, smiling at his car as you walk towards it.

He smiles at you through the windshield, leaning across the consol to open the door for you.

"Thank you." You say as you get in and shut the door. You turn towards him as you buckle, giving him a quiet, "Hey."

"Hey." He smiles and looks away, "god why am I so nervous?" He laughs and looks back at you. You shrug, "I asked myself that, too. A few times on the way out here."

He smile and shakes his head, "I figured we could stop, get some snacks before we drive around?"

You nod, "That's good with me."

"Okay." He nods and starts driving, "So. I have to ask. Are the lines on your tattoo straight?"

"I think so." You look at him, "Why do you ask?"

"Because.." he laughs, "I had to force myself to not shake."

You laugh slightly, "Aw, Why were you shaking?" He looks over at you, "I started shaking the minute you turned around to look at me in the lobby."

"Well you did a good job at covering it up because I couldn't even tell you were." You smirk and he sighs, "Well that's a relief." He looks over at you, "Tattoo healing okay?"

You nod, "Oh yeah. I took the stuff off two days ago I think?" You look over at him, "Do you want to see it?"

"If you're okay with that." He nods, "I'd love to."

He pulls into the parking lot and you unbuckle, bunching up your sweatshirt to reveal the underboob part of the tattoo, "I love it."

He raises his eyebrows, "That looks so good."

You nod, "It's healing perfectly."

He smiles as he points to the building, "Shall we go get some car ride snacks?"

You nod, "Let's do it."

You get out, walking in with him. You stay close to him, mainly because you're just happy to be with him. You grab some snacks and a drink, making your way up and Jake takes you stuff from your arms to pay.

"You don't have to do that." You say and he looks back at you, "You got out of bed at two in the morning for me, it's the least I could do."

You roll your eyes with a smile and wait for him to grab the bag before you walk out. You get back in the car and Jake looks over at you, staring for a few seconds.

"What?" You ask shyly, "Is there something on my face?" You brush your face and Jake laughs, "No." he sighs, "You are just.. amazing."

He laughs nervously and you smile as you look down, "So are you."

He turns towards you , word vomit spilling out, "I definitely would have asked you out the day you were at the shop, but I didn't want to do it with Matt standing and.. and then I thought that I could wait until your next appointment with me, but I couldn't so I got your number from your client profile and I just.. had to see you sooner."

"I'm glad you did. I was beating myself up over not saying anything." You sigh, "Plus. You're worth getting out of bed at two in the morning for."

He smiles and shakes his head, "That.. is sweet. Thank you."

You laugh, "I'm just glad we feel the same."

"You had me when you first looked at me, but you really got me at I hate everyone." He laughs, "I'm just glad that it wasn't all in my head."

You shake your head, "Nope. It's not."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

As usual, let me know how you liked this. Thank you for reading! Love you all!

Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated 🖤

#samandcolby-ownme #Jake Webber #Jake Webber one shot #Jake Webber fluff #jake webber one shots #Jake Webber fluff one shot #Jake Webber one shot fluff #jake webber x you #Jake Webber x reader #Jake Webber x reader fluff #Jake Webber fluff one shots #Tattooed With a Side of Love #anon requests #anon request

[loquaciousferret]

Over And Done With

Pairings: Javier Peña x f!reader

Warnings: persistent but not dubcon or noncon. javi being a cocky rude asshole (you all know my Javi by now) smut 18+, oral (f receiving) fingering, unprotected sex, unsafe sex, sexism

Word Count: 2k

A/N: Javi is still my leading man guys... Enjoy this little piece of filth. Thank you for over 1k on my other two Javi oneshots, so grateful! Thanks to Lucy and Gi as always for thots with me ;)

Playlist: Dark But Just a Game - Lana Del Rey | Less I Know The Better - Tame Impala | Business - Catfish and the Bottlemen | Californication - Red Hot Chilli Peppers

You waited until the office was nearly empty. That wasn’t a deliberate choice, simply a consequence of how long it took you to pluck up the nerve to face Agent Peña and tell him that the meaningless sex you two had been having for the past few months was over.

You knocked on his door and he drawled to come in. 

You opened it and crossed the threshold to his office timidly. He was standing at a filing cabinet, rifling through papers, a tight white shirt stretching over his wide shoulders and strong biceps- Stop it. You tell yourself.  

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” He says, his gaze rising to meet yours. You don’t miss the way his eyes trail up and down your body shamelessly, fixing for a second on the exposed skin of your thighs, and again on your chest. 

“We need to talk.” You say firmly.

He doesn’t even attempt to hide the insolent roll of his eyes. He loosens his tie and reaches for the cigarettes on his desk.

“Really?” He says, irritated. 

“This… Arrangement between us. It’s over.” 

“Wow.” He says, sarcastically. “And the hits just keep on coming today. What put that stupid thought in your head then, huh?” 

You narrow your eyes. Why does he always have to be such a dick. You ignore the question.

You make your way towards his desk and reach into your purse. You retrieve a set of handcuffs and clatter them onto the tabletop.

“You forgot these in my bedroom.” You say, feigning nonchalance.

“I didn’t forget them. They were there for safekeeping.” His smirk is growing with each comment he throws at you.

“Well, I won’t be needing them anymore.” 

He has a smug and infuriating expression. “No, keep ‘em. They’re a parting gift.”

“They aren’t yours to give. They’re the property of the US government.”

“Riiight.” He agrees, in a mocking tone.

You turn to leave and hear him sigh. “Thanks for stopping by, sweetheart. My place or yours tonight?” 

“Peña-" You huff in frustration, turning to face him. "Have you not listened to a word I said? We are done.” 

He takes a lazy draw of his cigarette, not wiping the taunting smirk off his face the entire time.

"No, we're not." He shoots back.

You sigh. "Why do you have to be so difficult? It's not a big deal, we don't even like each other, in fact, I barely tolerate you, so-"

He cuts you off "Then why do you keep coming back for more?"

You shake your head and turn away from him, not pleased with the direction of conversation, and desperate to get out before he can work his magic on you. But he stalks towards you, and though you had nearly reached the door he is spinning you round to face him and presses your back into it instead.

"I-"

"Shhh," He coos. "I know why. You crave me. Like an addict needs a hit, baby."

"No, I-"

"Yes. That's why you beg me for it. That's why you give yourself to me, any time, any place." His voice has dropped to a whisper and he is so close to you, his hot breath causes goosebumps to raise on the surface of your skin.

"You see how your body reacts to me?" He smirks, "I haven't even touched you, cariño."

"Just admit it." He urges you.

You somehow gather the resolve to shake your head, and a passing thought tells you that you should have attempted this in a more public place so he couldn't accost you like this and throw the whole conversation off track.

You reach out to push him away and create distance between you, trying to escape from the overwhelming cloud of his scent that envelopes you. Citrus, tobacco, sea salt, gunpowder.

"Please, Javi, no, I-"

He takes you by the wrist to stop you from pushing him, and his other hand lifts up your chin and forces you to look into his eyes. They are dark with lust and menace.

"Fine, baby, we can stop." He says, a sweet tone to his voice that you know is too good to be true. "On one condition."

"What?" You respond, somewhat breathlessly, still lost in the sensation of his heady presence.

"You let me slide my fingers up your skirt. If you're not dripping wet for me, I'll let you go."

You know that arousal has been growing between your legs ever since he invaded your personal space. It was an animalistic reaction, but one that betrayed your true feelings, leaving you vulnerable to the dominating Javi. Your thighs were clenched together in an attempt to relieve some of the tension, but it wasn't working.

"Don't be ridiculo-" You begin to protest.

"I'm not. Stop trying to deny your body what it wants. What you want. You want me."

When he slips a large palm between your thighs and begins to gently prise apart the tight grip you have them locked in, you know you are completely beat. One touch from him and you will fall to his mercy, desperately chasing the pleasure you know he is capable of giving you. And this reminds you exactly why it is so hard to ever break things off with Javi. He is utterly relentless, and there are no rules when he is in charge. He never gives you a fair chance.

A small moan escapes you, and he chuckles. You hate that in this game you are trapped in with him, you can never help yourself from showing your cards too early, always emboldening him further to take from you what he wants. And he is right, you do want it too, as destructive as it is to give yourself to someone like him, you can't deny the way he makes you feel, and you end up right back where you started every time you attempt to withdraw to a safe distance.

His fingers graze the hem of your panties, then, he must change his mind, withdrawing them. You whine, giving away more and more just how much you desire his touch. You are surprised when he is dropping to his knees in front of you.

"Jav-"

"Shh, baby." He says. He takes the fabric of your skirt and pushes it up your legs, slowly exposing your skin inch by inch until it is bunched around your hips and he is separated from your arousal by only your thin red lace panties.

"Who are you wearing these for if you weren't planning on being with me today?" He says, licking up your thighs and sucking lightly at certain spots.

You whine pathetically at the sensation and his lips tickle you as they curve into a smirk. He puts a hand between your legs and seperates them further, putting his head between your thighs and pressing his face into the fabric. He inhales deeply and groans, sending vibrations through you, making you throb with desire.

"I'm gonna taste how turned on you are for me." He whispers.

He hooks fingers into the waistband of your panties and drags them down your legs. The cold air hitting your hot, wet core makes you shiver. You step out of your underwear and he stuffs them into his pocket.

He returns to being nestled between your legs and places kisses to your inner thighs, making his way closer to the spot which needs his attention at a teasingly slow pace.

You manage to keep quiet and resist from begging him to hurry up.

Thankfully, he finally licks a wide stripe up your entire core. He literally moans gutturally as he does so. He sends your head into a spin every single time he eats you out like this, so enthusiastic and starving for you.

He alternates between licking up and down your folds and stopping to focus on your clit at the top, sucking gently, circling his tongue around it, constantly varying his pace so that every time you started to get used to the sensation, he would have you whining again by changing up the intensity. He then focusses on your tight entrance, inserting his tongue and then fucking you with it, licking up the arousal leaking from you.

Then, he grips your thigh, and swings your leg over his shoulder to improve his angle of access to you. This practically makes your knees buckle, and he has to hold you up with both hands as he continues to feast on you.

You start to feel your orgasm building and grip his hair, rolling your hips against his mouth to increase the pressure. He senses all of these changes in your movements and knows you are close, focussing his attention entirely on your clit in a steady rhythmic fashion that he knows will take you over the edge.

It doesn't take long before you are shaking with the intensity of the orgasm. But he doesn't stop, harshly warning you to quiet down because there are still people around the embassy and these sounds are only for him. He sucks on your clit gently until it is overstimulated and tears begin to form in your eyes.

Eventually, he pulls back, but you only get a moment of reprieve until he is jamming two fingers inside your cunt to replace his mouth. Your wetness makes it relatively easy to take but you still mewl at the sensation. He curls them and their length allows them to hit a spot deep inside you.

Everything about being intimate with Javi is levels of intensity far beyond what you can achieve alone, or that you ever have with previous lovers. He brings a whole new meaning to the idea of pleasure. You don't tell him this. His ego is big enough.

He brings a thumb to your clit and brushes it gently, continuing to torment you with his two fingers which entered you, scissored and curled, slipped back out of you, and thrusted back in. His pace was inconsistent, so you were left on the edge, never knowing what to expect. As he starts to rub your clit in circles, you notice how sensitive you are from your first orgasm.

"Javiiii-" You drag out the syllable as you whine loudly in pleasure.

"You're gonna cum again before I fuck you." He growls.

"No, no, please." You say, your legs shaking. He combats this by pinning your thighs to the wall with his free forearm, keeping you stuck there.

"It wasn't a question."

He kisses at your skin, wherever he can reach, as he continues to work you with his hand. He presses his lips to your hipbone, then trails down to the thickness of your upper thigh, his moustache tickling you as he travels downwards. Then, he sucks lightly, and you gasp. He nibbles and sucks harder, trying to leave marks. He has a somewhat possessive side to him, revelling in marking your body whether it be with hickeys or handprints. Not in places that others will see, just in private spots where he can admire them for himself.

You know he is trying extra hard to be generous just to remind you why you aren't going to cut him off. He is taking his time on you to prove to you all the reasons why you won't really stop seeing him. It is obvious that this is his ulterior motive, and yet it is working, you start to think you were too rash in your decision to end things.

His tongue flicks over the painful marks he has sucked and bitten into your inner thighs. It tickles and this adds to the once again growing sensation of an orgasm, one that you know is going to rip through you with even more ferocity than the first.

You are whining and moaning his name, panting as the tension inside you reaches a peak, ready to snap at any second and have you unravel all over him.

When it does happen, you think you go slightly dizzy. Your mouth falls open into a scream that never actually leaves your room. You are overwhelmed into silence, your body twitching. You curl your hands through his hair and try to pull him away from you, and he finally obliges.

He takes you by the hand and pulls you away from the door, locking it behind you and moves you both towards the desk. He sits you on top of it, on top of no doubt important government documents. He unexpectedly kisses you on the head, and even in your blissed out post-orgasm state, you note that this is the first time he has ever done this.

But the moment is over quickly, as he is soon spreading your legs again, unbuckling his belt and releasing his erection from his stupidly tight jeans. It doesn't matter how many times you sleep together, you never get used to the size of it every time you see it.

He unbuttons your blouse and slides it off your arms. He stares and takes you all in.

"All for me." He says, dipping his head to the curve of your cleavage and plastering kisses there, stroking his cock against your folds to gather lubrication. You moan at the feeling of it sliding through your sensitive parts, nudging your clit and making you hiss sharply. The next time he comes down to your entrance, he stills. He presses a hand onto your chest to lay you backwards onto the desk. Then he plunges inside you at full force and your back arches from the table top instantly.

You exclaim and he presses a hand to your mouth. The other is gripping one hip, pulling you back onto his cock with each thrust. He has chosen to start with an immediately punishing pace. You know that he is impatient now, having spent so much time on you, that he wont want to draw out his own pleasure, and will use your body now without mercy to reach his own release.

The desk screeches against the floor and some objects roll off the side. This doesn't so much as cause him to falter. He is hyper-focussed on the task at hand, his gaze fixed on watching himself slam in and out of you, only occasionally looking up at you to appreciate the look of pleasure on your face for a moment before looking back down at the place the two of you are connected.

He removes the hand from your mouth and takes it to the other hip, thrusts now impossibly forceful with him pulling your whole body weight against him with every single one.

You wrap your legs around his back and lock your ankles together, pushing him slightly deeper inside you and he grits his teeth. "Fuck, cariño. Tan apretada."

"So tight," He repeats, "You like it, huh?"

You can't respond, too consumed by pleasure. You nod pathetically and you can feel his smirk burning down on you, you know he is watching your face now, admiring the way he can make your expression twist, your mouth fall open, and your eyes squeeze shut.

The feeling is so intense that you are growing numb to it, he is rhythmically slamming against your deepest spots, causing you to whine and whimper, your limbs going slack.

He always becomes more vocal as he reaches his climax, and he does so now, You like my cock, huh? You come in here just to get fucked like this? I know you wanted it, sweetheart.

"You gonna take my cum inside you like a good girl?" He asks

You nod at the last one. "Please, Javi."

"You gonna beg for my cum?"

You whine, half in protest, half because he has somehow changed the angle to result in even more devastating thrusts.

"Do it." He demands.

You perform for him how he asks, using up what little concentration you have to plead in a sultry tone that he fill you up. That he make you his. That he remind you who you belong to.

Soon, he is grunting, profanity spilling from his lips as he tenses up inside you, filling you with hot spurts of his cum.

He stays inside you and leans down, kissing at your neck and chest. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and play with the soft curls at the back of his neck. The pair of you rarely indulge in a tender moment after sex. He seems so different today.

He does pull out after a few moments, and you pout at him, disappointed by the sensation and missing the feeling of him buried inside you. He smiles and runs a finger over your downturned lips. "Can't stay in there forever. You don't think I want to?"

He takes a few steps away from you, turning away from you to readjust himself. When he faces you again, leaning lazily against the wall, lighting a cigarette, watching you re-dress, his demeanour has completely changed back to usual. His cruel, taunting smirk has returned when you look up at him, straightening your skirt and readjusting it to where it should be just below your mid-thighs. He looks and notices one of the bruises he left just peeking out from under the hem.

You stare back but you don't have any words for him. He fills the silence, walking towards you.

"You see? We’re done when I say we are done, princesa. I'll see you later."

He pats your ass dismissively, sending you on your way, and you exit his office on weak legs. You should have known this would happen, you and Javi still aren’t over and done with yet.

My other smutty Javier Pena works: Partners | Little Games | All Work, No Play

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LET ME KNOW IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO BE ADDED TO A PERMANENT JAVI TAGLIST OR FOR ALL PEDRO WORKS

#javier pena smut #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena fic #javier pena fanfic #javier pena x reader smut #javier pena x reader #javier pena x female reader #javier pena x f!reader #narcos fanfiction #narcos smut #narcos fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal characters #agent pena smut #agent pena fanfiction #agent pena fanfic

[kidney9-9]

Kinktober Day 1 - Peter Parker

Welcome to day 1 of Kinktober! I hope you enjoy, please read the warnings!

Peter Parker x Reader [Smut] Warnings: Smut, virginity loss, slight corruption kink, condom use Word Count: 1730

Peter whimpered as you deepened the kiss, causing his body to slide down the bed even more with you on top of him. You adjusted your legs to be set on either side of his body and you lightly settled your body down against him, causing him to gasp. You grinned at the noise and pulled away from the kiss.

“Something wrong, Peter?” You asked softly, loving the bright red on his face from just a normal kiss. Today was the fourth time you two have gotten this far. You’ve wondered how long it was going to take for him to finally want to go all the way, and you two have been dating for six months.

“Uhh, nothing, no – it’s just, well,” He paused, breathing hard from feeling so intense from the kiss. “I think I’m ready now. I want to go all the way.” He continued, barely making eye contact with you. He bit his lip hard, almost drawing blood.

You felt your smile widen, “Aw, baby, really? We can still wait – if you’re feeling nervous about it.” You couldn’t believe what you were hearing, but it sounded like he was almost ready. You felt yourself become more and more aroused at the thought of finally having sex with him.

“Yeah, I’m ready for sure now. I’m just really excited. And yeah, kinda nervous, but who wouldn’t be? Any virgin would.” He huffed out a nervous laugh at himself and gazed down at your body.

“Should I take off my clothes now or wait, is it like the other way around? I’m a bit confused.” He continued, rambling slightly as he shifted in his spot, causing you to lightly grind against his hard on. He gasped loudly at the contact, jaw dropping as he shuddered at the feeling.

You smiled softly at him, “I just want you to be sure though. Are you certain that you’re ready?” The action you just saw of him gasping at just the smallest movement made you feel even more wet, wanting to watch him react to your body. You wanted to ruin him so badly, but you wanted him to be sure.

“Yes! Yeah, I am, please, I want this so much.” He begged you and you nodded softly.

“Okay, honey, then we’ll do this now.” You wiggled yourself off him, purposely rubbing your clothed pussy over his hard on, making him whine softly under his breath.

He smiled back at you excitedly and started to strip his shirt off at a fast pace, making you chuckle softly. You slowly took off your pants, taking the time and as you turned back around to look at Peter, he was already completely naked. You blinked in surprise, but a grin formed on your face, loving the eagerness from him, the cute virgin.

“Wow, Pete, wanna help me take my top off since you’re already undressed?” You asked, hiding a fond laugh from him. You gazed down at his cock, eyes widening slightly at the size – the girth. Incredible. How was this guy a virgin with such a huge cock?

“Yes!” He shot out at you and fumbled his hands to take your shirt off. You raised your arms as he took it off and threw it across the room, causing you to laugh this time.

 Your bra and panties were still on, and Peter gazed at the bra in wonder, “How do I take this off?” He mumbled under his breath, but you caught it.

“It’s pretty simple, just unhook it in the back.” You explained to him, and he nodded in embarrassment, turning slightly to get to the back of your bra. Just as he unhooked it and let it fall off your body, your breasts were instantly cupped by Peter’s hands.

Then he backed away almost immediately after, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I should’ve asked.” He let out, stuttering. You shook your head to him and smiled, bringing his hands back to your breasts with yours, and placed them back over your breasts.

“Baby, it’s okay, you can touch them however you’d like to. I’ll tell you if something’s wrong.” You responded, glancing down to see him lightly squeeze your boobs gently, as if he was scared something would pop out at him. You took your panties off quickly while he was focused on your boobs.

You two were sitting on the bed, with your legs crossed and Peter leaning on his knees, sitting back on his heels. After a few moments, he started to squeeze a little more and move his fingers around your nipples. Finally, he pinched one of your nipples, causing you to shiver at the feeling, which he noticed and instantly squeezed your other nipple, wanting to see you react more.

“That’s good, keep going.” You encouraged him, and then leaned in to kiss his cheek. He turned his head to meet your lips in a kiss and you slipped your tongue out to his bottom lip, making him open his mouth. You two started to make out and his hands became more aggressive and explorative as one of them wandered down your body, squeezing at your hips and the other rubbing your nipple in his fingers.

He moaned your name as you pressed your body against him, and your hand found its way down to his hard on, causing him to shake against you as you lightly circled a finger over his tip.

“I wanna be in you now, please, so bad.” He pleaded, and you pulled away and nodded. You knew he wasn’t going to last if you really set your hands on his dick, since the last time you tried to give him a hand job, he instantly blew a load. You hadn’t prepped yourself at all, but you were very wet, and you figured it was going to be fine – but you did start to pump a finger in and out of your pussy slowly as you moved into another position.

You laid back and watched as Peter got up from the bed to get a condom. You weren’t sure where he would keep his condoms since this was his first time. But then you saw him lean underneath the bed and grab a box, then open the box to show a few condoms in there. You smiled, a little amused that he would hide condoms in his own apartment – but you were glad he was being quick about it.

He rolled the condom down his dick and turned to you, eyes widening at the sight of you pushing two fingers in and out of your pussy. You added a third – even though it burned a little and watched as Peter gulped.

“I’m ready now.” He said after a few moments of watching you finger yourself in preparation. You nodded and removed your fingers and before you could move again, he pounced on you, grabbing your hand, and bringing it up to his face.

He looked so curious and excited, and you were so confused at what he was doing with your hand – and then he licked your fingers clean. You gasped in surprise at his action because he had never once brought up wanting to do anything with your pussy.

“Why’d you do that?” You asked, a bit shocked still, but very aroused.

He blushed heavily, “I always wanted to see what you tasted like, but I was too nervous that I’d mess up. So, I – uh, wanted to lick your fingers to see what it was like.”

You chuckled softly at his actions, “Mm, you continue to surprise me. Are you ready to fuck me now?” Your crude question caused him to cough in shock and look down at your pussy in wonder.

“I – yeah, I am.” He stuttered and you smiled at him and nodded for him to continue.

You placed your hand on his dick very softly and guided it to your pussy. You placed it to your opening as Peter shifted to be above you. He held himself up with one of his elbows and placed his other hand on your cheek.

He pushed in slowly, eyes meeting yours. Then he gasped as his tip was inside you, he moaned your name, “Oh my… oh wow.” He panted.

“Keep going, it’ll get even better.” You encouraged him, leaning up to kiss his lips gently.

“Really?” He panted, and continued to push into you, stretching your pussy out more. You groaned at the feeling, wanting him to be completely inside you.

You shifted your hips, causing him to steep into you even more, and he gasped loudly, eyes squeezing shut. “Ah! Fuck, fuck.” He whimpered and finally he pushed all the way in, bottoming you out.

You sighed in relief and watched as he shuddered. “Ok baby, good job. Now you gotta move in and out, can you do that?” You asked gently.

He nodded, “Yeah, I think I can.”

He grunted as he pulled out and then in again, and he started to fuck you at an unsteady pace. You started to rub your clit, bringing yourself up so you could orgasm in time with Peter. You gasped as he continued to hit your g-spot, “Right there, keep going!”

He continued rigorously, and within the next two minutes, he started to groan loudly, hiding his head in your neck.

“I- I’m gonna cum. Can I cum? Please?” He gasped and you nodded quickly, “Yes, Peter, cum for me!”

Almost immediately after you said that he thrusted in deep and stopped as he started coming hard. You wish you could’ve felt his cum inside you, filling you up.

“Ahh, fuck, that’s s’good.” He groaned loudly, and you quickly continued to rub your clit. He pulled out of you, and he pushed your g-spot one last time, pushing you to orgasm. You moaned as it happened, and sighed in relief as you calmed down, watching Peter heaving.

He collapsed next to you with his eyes closed. You smiled at his expression and kissed his forehead lightly.

“That was really good, Peter. I’m glad we did that.” You spoke up very gently.

He opened his eyes and smiled back at you, then he glanced down at his cock hardening again, then looked back at you sheepishly, “Can we maybe do that again?”

You laughed loudly, but nodded, “Yeah, sure thing.”

#peter parker x reader #peter parker smut #kinktober 2023 #smut #marvel smut

[obsessedelusional]

Five Star Service

parings ✦ Eddie Munson x Reader

summary ✦ After a rough day of work you boyfriend Eddie offers you a full body massage. Contains Smut

authors note ✦ this was a request, thank you!! Hope you enjoy. Feedback and reblogs appreciated

I’ve been MIA for a week because I guess tumblr has a “glitch” that’s makes your posts not appear in tags and you can’t interact with other posts. They finally got back to me and said I should be back to normal. So hopefully y’all actually see this (:

⊹ ꙳ ✦ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹

Munson spent everyday unapologetically worshiping you and your beautiful body. Always wondering what he did to deserve you. So when you’d talked down on yourself he would take personal offense to it, reassuring you that you were perfect the way you were. That he would love you no matter what.

This day no different, you had come home from your work exhausted and upset. You two shared a small apartment, coming home from work to Eddie was your favorite. Before you can even walk through the door he is enveloping you in a hug.

"How was your day, beautiful?" He asks head nuzzled into the crook of your neck, tightening the grip on your waist.

"It was fine," You sigh giving into his embrace, allowing yourself to fully relax for the first time today.

"Just fine?" He asks pulling away so he can see your face.

"It's better now." You try to smile in a way that would convince him to stop worrying.

"What's the matter?" He asks, your smile must of not been convincing enough.

"Just tired. I was by myself today again for the third day in a row, meaning no breaks. Just eight hours of running around miserably. My back is killing me." You groan reliving the memories of the day.

"Can I make it better?"

"How?" You ask, having a feeling where this is headed. Eddie was a firm believer that any ailment you had could be cured by his dick. Migraine? Dick. Upset Stomach? Dick.

"Let me give you a massage."

"A massage?" You ask surprised by his offer.

"Yes. I want to make you feel better." He smiles leading you to the bathroom.

"Take a quick shower, wash the day away then meet me in the bedroom for your personal Munson Massage." You waste no time getting undressed and hop in the shower.

When you walk out into your room in nothing more than a towel your greeted by a dark room. The only light coming from the various candles lit around the room.

"Lay down." He motions you to the bed where he has laid a towel and pillow to rest your head.

"Wow Eddie you really went all out." His finger reaches your lip shushing you.

"Lay down."

"Damn okay." You laugh removing your towel. Without hesitation his hands gravitate to your body. From behind he cups your breasts kissing down your neck.

"You're body is perfect." Eddie whispers between kisses. You release yourself from his grip so you can do a he said, lay down causing Eddie to pout.

"You told me to lay down. Do you want me on my stomach or my back?"

"Your stomach." He instructs and you listen rolling over so your ass if facing Eddie.

"What a beautiful sight," A few moments pass before the feeling of a freezing cold liquid hits your back. Eddie's hands rub up and down your back, stopping at your shoulders giving them a rough squeeze. This causes you to let out a soft moan. Eddie's dick twitches at the sound you let out.

"Does that feel good princess?" Eddie asks voice low and husky.

"Mhmm." Is all you can manage to say as his hands knead down your back and land on you ass. He cups your cheeks giving them a squeeze. His fingers slipping between them and toying with your cunt.

"Do all your customers get this kind of treatment?" You laugh.

"Only my favorites." He laughs back before finding your clit and lazily drawing circles around it.

"More.. I need more.." You moan and his hand leaves your slit and flips you over. Jumping on the bed between your legs, resting so his face is close your pussy.

"Such a beautiful pussy so wet just for me." Eddie grunts, his hard on growing in his pants just at the sight.

"For you." You words turn to moans because Eddie's tongue licks up your juices before finding your clit, one finger enters your pussy pumping in and out. His tongue swirls around your clit. He adds one more finger, his large fingers stretching you out for the real thing.

“Eddie… I’m going to cum.” You pant the tightness in your stomach growing warning you it’s coming.

“Cum for me princess,” Eddie speaks. His words enough to send you over the edge.

“I love watching my perfect girl cum.” He groans removing his fingers from your cunt.

“Delicious.” Eddie says licking your juices off of his fingers.

“I need you to fuck me Eddie.” You purr getting straight to the point, not wanting to wait any longer.

“Can’t keep my most loyal customer waiting.” He smiles, removing his pants letting his cock finally breathe. You’d think after years of dating you’d get used to his size, but it never ceases to amaze you. The tip lines up with your hole, slowly stretching you out.

“My perfect girl taking my cock so beautifully.” He says as he bottoms out in your pussy. His rhythm starts out slow, leaning into you kissing you. Your moans muffled by his tongue finding it’s way into your mouth fighting for dominance.

As he pulls away his speed picks up. Your nails dig into his back as he goes even faster and harder, his hair dangling in your face. Eddie sits back and picks your legs up and continues his fast motion. Somehow filling you up even more than before, causing you to moan more than you once were.

“You like that?” Eddie growled. You nod, your eyes closed enjoying this moment too much.

“Look at me when I fuck you. I need to see those beautiful eyes princess.” You open you eyes to find Eddie starting down at you.

“So fucking beautiful.” Eddie grunts still pounding into your pussy. One of hands fall to your clit roughly circling it. You hold your own legs so Eddie can focus on your clit. It doesn’t take long before you feel that familiar feeling in your stomach.

“Fuck,” you whine as you cum for a second time. Only this time on his cock. The sensation of your pussy pulsating when you cum is enough to make Eddie need to cum. He pulls out, jacks himself off onto your stomach. His white sticky liquid shoots around your navel. Eddie reaches for a rag, cleaning you off before laying next to you.

“How would you rate your service?” Eddie pants trying to catch his breath still.

“Five star.” You giggle giving him a soft sweaty kiss.

#eddie imagine #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson pov #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie x reader #eddie munson smut #stranger things x reader #eddie stranger things #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things smut #joseph quinn x reader #eddie x you #eddie my beloved #munson #eddie x y/n

[sugarsfics]

Painting Together

Summary: Your next-door neighbor comes over; he needs some help painting. There are some pros and cons. Pros you are great at painting. Con you have the biggest crush on him. 

Trope: Eddie x reader; Friends to lovers 

Warning: use of y/n, kissing, fluff, bad writing  

Word count: 1.0k 

30 Day challenge: Day 5 Send request <3 

It was a beautiful gloomy day, there was a nice sprinkle outside. You are currently cuddled up in bed reading a book when there was a knock at your door. You place your book down then ventured out into the living room, you open and were met with big brown eyes those you belonged to your neighbor Eddie Munson. “Hey” he spoke first “Hi” “Um so I was bored and thought maybe I should come bother you because you are probably also bored” you laughed “Yea ok come on in” he closed the door after himself “What’s in the bag” you asked him pointing and his black backpack “Oh my d&d stuff I need to paint some figurines for the next campaign plus finish the campaign “Are you using me too paint your little toys” “What no” he said sarcastically “You are wow and to think that you just wanted to hang out with little o’me but no you must use me” you said dramatically “No I-I really do want to hang out I just I-“ “Relax Munson I love painting and helping you out”  “I just don’t want you to think I’m using you” “Your my friend” his heart dropped yea just friends but he wanted too be more “Plus you could never use me how much the cheerleaders used me back in high school"

That is where you and Eddie met. You were the artist he was the freak You were on the student council your job was making posters for clubs and any events that were going on. You were used people being nice to you to do their homecoming proposals or to make their club sign extra. But Eddie wasn’t like that, he started developing a crush on you the moment he walked into first period. You were wearing a pair of light pink converse with drawings all over, some paint cover overalls and a black tee under along with some paint sprinkled on your arms and cheeks. When your eyes meet with his for the first time he swore it stopped for 5 seconds and that he died and went to heaven. The love at first sight moment was ruined went Mason Carver bumped into him “move freak” After class we walked out a was met with a poster JOIN OR MAKE A CLUB, with the same colors that you were covered in. That is how Hellfire was born. It took many people to convince to start the club but, in the end, he got his club, they directed him to you to make your club poster for club rush the next week. He bonded with you over the week of making the logo and posters he even helped with the other clubs, he didn’t dare to touch anything to do with sports. After that week, your friendship blossomed. But you both wanted more but never said anything.

You brought him into your room, he sat on your floor as you went into your closet to grab your art supplies. “Ok who am I painting today” “Well.... This is a Merrow they are mermaids or merman. They carry spears and here is the handbook for his colors” as you painted Eddie would tell you about the roles each person or creature was playing in his campaign. Eddie looked too cute when he was focused, his tongue was poking out, intrusive thoughts took over and you grabbed your paint brush and poked his nose. He looked at you stunned you thought he was mad until he grabbed a brush and poked your cheek, a poking war start any open flesh had color dots on them. You fell back has Eddie tried to poke your forehead, then felt a sharp pain in your lower back “Ow” “Are you ok” he was panicking thinking he hurt you, but in realty you fell on one of his figures “All good just landed on this little guy” you said holding it up "Oh wow this one looks just like you” the one had long hair dressed as a knight. “Um yea that my character he needs to be clean up bit but yea” “Aw he’s cute” you're cute you both think. He went into his bag and another figure fell out “Oh who is this” it was a girl she has your colored hair about the same length as you, a white dress flowy dress was this me you thought “Oh um that is um Eddie the banished fair maiden” he says sheepishly “What are her traits or strengths” “Um she helps patches up Eddie the banished after battle, she as a power where her food that she packs for him heals him and his wounds, and” he didn’t look you in the eye for the last part “she is really good a painting and drawing” you didn’t want to ask him just in case it wasn’t true but you really wanted to know “Eddie” “Yes” “Is she based off someone” your heart was pounding “Would it be weird if it was” he asked here goes nothing “What's her name” “um l-l-lady y/n” he said lowly “You made a character after me” couldn’t form any word he just nodded. 

He hasn’t looked at you since his confession “Eddie look at me please” he slowly looked at you “I think it is really sweet” you grabbed his hand “You don’t think it is weird that I made you my character fair maiden” “No I would be your fair maiden in any universe if you wanted me too” his eyes widen please don’t be dreaming he thought “I-I” he was speechless you smiled at him that made him melt. You did something that you only dreamed of you grabbed Eddie’s face and kissed him, he quickly kissed back and pulled you closer to him. He didn’t want it to end, but unfortunately people need air to live, and he was lacking that then. He pulled away with a lovesick smile, you pressed kisses all over his face till it was a deep red “Does this mean we are dating” you asked, “If you keep kissing me like that, I will be your anything” “So boyfriend?” “Yea girlfriend?” “Yes” 

Tag list: @thefreak0fhawkinshigh

#eddie x reader #eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x you #eddie x y/n #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie my beloved #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things #eddie x plus size reader #eddie x introvert reader #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fandom #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #sugarsfics

[doe-eyed-fool]

Fallen {Chapter Twenty Four}

Alastor x (fem)Reader

It had been about a week since that incident, I was still a little shaken from it. Though, I tried to keep my composure, and act normally. Most seem to buy it, except for two people. Angel Dust, he saw right through my act. He tried to make me feel better. Talking to me, inviting me out with him and Cherri. While I appreciated his efforts, it didn't help much. I tried to put his own worries at ease, but I wasn't much help either.

Then there was Alastor. Even if I wanted to pretend like everything was fine, it wouldn't convince him. He was patient with me and understanding. He did as I asked, and kept quiet about what he did to Liam. Though, telling from the grin on his face, he was satisfied with what he's done. 

Today, Alastor had stopped by my room. He wanted to take a crack at trying to cheer me up too. But, the way he went about it was...shocking.

I answer the door, I've learned overtime that his knock pattern was different from the others. He stared down at me with a friendly(?) grin. "Good evening Y/n! How are you feeling?" He asks. I shrug. "About the same." Not great, but not terrible either. Somewhere in between. But, it wasn't a good in between. I knew that much.

"Well, that's not good." Alastor knew it too. "It's because of that, I came by. I wanted to ask you to join me this evening." 

"Join you? I don't know Alastor, I'm not really in the mood to be going anywhere. I could tell I was dampening the mood, when Angel invited me out recently. I don't want to do the same with you." I tell him.

"Nonsense! You never let my spirits down! Y/n, I feel like this would be good for you. Trust me, you'll have a blast!" Alastor quickly adds. "And before you say anything, no, this evening will not involve murder or maiming of any kind." 

"Then, what were you planning?" I ask him. Alastor offers his hand. "That's for you to find out." I hesitated, but took his hand anyway. "Aha! Wonderful! I assure you Y/n, you won't regret it!" He begins to walk with me, but pauses after taking another look at me. I raise an eyebrow. "What?" 

"I feel as if we should properly dress for the evening, shouldn't we?" He says before snapping his fingers. Suddenly, we were both wearing new outfits.

I wore a red midi dress with a black bow tied around my waist. While Alastor wore a red suit, because of course it was red.

"Perfect!" Alastor exclaims. "Alright, are you ready, dear?" He asks. "I don't think I will ever get use to sudden wardrobe changes. But yes, I am ready." Alastor chuckles at my comment before leading me out. He teleports us both, as not to draw attention from the others in hotel.

We had traveled to a upscale part of the city, anyone here clearly were proper and fairly rich. I felt so out of place, though Alastor acts as if he's been here hundreds of times. He probably has, now that I think about it.

"I say we should start the evening off with a nice meal. What do you think?" Alastor asks me. I couldn't pass up the chance for food, especially when I haven't ate all day. "That sounds fine." I tell him. Alastor leads me to a fancy looking restaurant.

He informed the host of his name and reservation, and was swiftly welcomed in. Though, I'm sure without one he'd get in. He was an overlord after all.

We were brought to our seats, and given a bottle of wine that was sat in a small bucket of ice. The host told us our waiter would be with us momentarily before excusing himself. "I know you don't drink, so I won't force you. But, if you change your mind..." Alastor says as he pours both of us a glass. "It'll be there." 

"Well, it's not like I don't drink ever." I say while taking the glass. "I just, prefer not to over do it. I like to keep it light, you know?" I then took a sip. Wow. This is good. I dare not think about just how much this wine costed alone, on top of sitting down to eat here.

"Understandable." Alastor nods as he takes a sip himself. "I don't think I've gotten drunk in a while. Last time I did, I believe I found myself in a part of the pride ring I'd never been to before. Apparently, in my drunken state, I had bet quite the sum of money on a race horse...and lost." 

I couldn't help but laugh a bit at that. "How much did you drink?" I ask. "Couldn't tell ya. But my pockets were hurting for a bit after that, I can say that for certain." Alastor chuckles.

"I can't even remember why I was drinking that much to begin with. But I recall Mimzy being there, and when Mimzy and I drink together...The night can take us literally anywhere. I even asked her, and she can't remember why either. But she had gotten herself into some trouble as well." He takes another swig. 

"This Mimzy girl sounds like a blast." I say with a smile. "Oh, she is." Alastor chuckles. "Quite the trouble maker too. But, she's a decent woman. Me and her go way back. We were good friends when we were alive." He tells me. "We got each other out of a few sticky situations, every now and then." 

"I notice your quite popular with women." I say. "You get along with them better, and it seems you only make friends with women. I'm surprised you don't have a girlfriend, or a wife." Alastor shrugs. "I was never interested. Romance, love, it was never a priority." 

"Oh, I see." Something about hearing that made me a little disappointed. Not upset. But, I guess I was hoping for something? Then again, this could be a good thing. My delusions and silly emotions could finally settle. At least now, I know for sure I won't get hurt again.

Our waiter then arrived, and took our orders. As we ate, me and Alastor talked about all sorts of things. He told me a bit about his living days. How he was a popular radio host, though that was unsurprising. How he basically came from nothing made something of himself all on his own.

And being a black man in a time like that, it was more than a little difficult. But he did it, and he was damn proud of it too. He told me more stories of him and Mimzy, and from what he talked about, she was a handful. She would get herself into trouble and usually Alastor would have to help her out. But, she would always make up for it somehow.

By the end of dinner, he would take me to a jazz lounge. The relaxing atmosphere, along with a few drinks, had put me a calmer mood. While the restaurant made me a little anxious, this place was the total opposite. Jazz wasn't my most preferred music, but I still liked and appreciate it.

And as I said, it was very relaxing. I take a look around, there was a few couples in lounge, cuddled up next to each other. I smiled at the sight, but it made me a little jealous. My gaze then moved to Alastor. He was focused on the performance, so he didn't catch my stare.

Maybe it was the alcohol finally settling in, but, the lighting of the lounge made him look very handsome. And we were sitting so close, our shoulders nearly touched. My cheeks began to heat up, and I prayed he could hear my heart beating as fast as it was. 

"I was never interested. Romance, love, it was never a priority." 

My heart started to settle, upon remembering those words. I turn to face the stage, feeling that same twinge of disappointment again. 

After that, Alastor and I took a stroll trough the city. We didn't talk much, but it was a comfortable silence. My arm interlocked with Alastors as we walked.

The night here in Hell was different from the one on Earth. Instead of a black sky full of stars, the red sky was a cool maroon. Even the bright pentagram had dimmed down, still bright enough to light the sky, but not enough to hurt your eyes. It was like looking at the moonlight. 

"Y/n?"

I looked up at Alastor. "Did you have a nice time?" He asked me. I smile and nod my head. "I did. Thank you." Alastor's grin soften, he turned his attention ahead and kept walking. As we walked, the sound of music steadily grew louder.

Ahead of us, was a street performer, who was playing a saxophone. There was a small gathering of demons who watched him play, some playing money into the saxophone case next to him. He was pretty good.

Alastor suddenly stopped walking, unhooking his arm from mine, and twirled me around. "Alastor?" I gasp slightly. "May I have this dance?" He asks, pulling me close. "I thought I told you, I can't dance." I laugh weakly. 

"You did fine the last time we danced." Alastor said, beginning to move. "Don't focus on the dancing, just focus on me." I tried to do what he said, keeping my eyes on him, trying to drown out my thoughts as we danced.

I follow his lead, and like before, he was perfect. I couldn't help but wonder how long he'd been dancing. 

I became less tense by the second, just taking it all in. The soft music in my ears, the beautiful city lights. The very same feeling I had when Alastor held me like this before...I couldn't help but smile, and finally give in. Alastor made it clear, he wasn't interested in romance. But it was a nice thought. 

It was nice to pretend for a while. Just for tonight, just in this moment. 

 As the song slowed to an end, Alastor and I found ourselves closer than when we started. Our lips but inches away from each other's. I half expected Alastor to back away after the song finally ended.

But, he stayed put. His eyes, looking deep into my own. I swore I saw something in his, I had never seen from him before.

It was really nice to pretend...

I inwardly sighed before pulling away from him. "That was nice." I say softly. Alastor was silent for a moment before speaking. 

"Yes...Yes, it was."

Tag List! @krak-jj

@martinys-world

@cherry-cola-100

#hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor x reader

[ryuichirou]

Replies

A couple of replies today!

Anonymous asked:

Edmundedmundedmundedmundedmundedmundnebulacollegeedmund YESSS I have been fed content and I'm so motherfucking happy

The boy looks wonderful in both bunny suits ❤️

Hehehe thank you so much!! I love love love drawing boys in bunny suits, so I am very happy for the opportunity to draw Edmund wearing it…both options~

Anonymous asked:

If Jack and Ortho sees Vil in that outfit, I'm sure they find it attractive.

Of course they will, everyone would~ not only these two.

(related to the latest event)

But I would love to see their reaction to Vil in that outfit as well… I feel like Jack would get visibly flustered, but wouldn’t look away even for a moment.

Ortho would take pictures and record Vil just so he always has the image of Vil looking so good in his head lol

Anonymous asked:

Ok, but those Crewel/Deuce comics, fulfilling another fantasy of mine 😩👌

Actually, the funniest thing is that I've always imagined that those two would have a secret relationship and only would start "officially" dating when Deuce graduated nrc. Like on the weekends, Deuce would tell people that he's going to visit his mom or a cousin, but in reality, he's going to Crewel's place for "extra credit."

Funny scenario: 19/20 y/o Deuce posting on Magicam that he's in a relationship with Divus and all his notifs are from his friends blasting "ayo? 🤨" Then he gets a text from his mom like "DeeDee, you know I will support you in everything and anything but don't make the same mistakes as I did when I was younger, this is how you were born 😔"

(related to this comic; sorry for the late reply!)

Thank you, Anon, I am happy you liked the comic!

Out of all the first years, Deuce does feel like the type to officially go out with a teacher after graduating lol I can’t explain it, but it feels right in a weird way. I wonder if any of the first years would suspect that Deuce isn’t really visiting his mom or a cousin whenever he leaves to spend time with Crewel…

Also! His poor mother, this boy just keeps making her worry lol At least Deuce isn’t going to get pregnant, so that should be a relief…

blackbutlerfandomnerddomain asked:

If we had a battle of crossovers, who would win: GreenViolet or LilIdia

Hmm, how are they fighting? Is this a fist fight? Then Lilidia, because Lilia would outsmart Greenhill, and Violet and Idia both are wimps who can’t fight lol

In terms of a relationship… it’s a bit difficult to compare them because both couples are kind of confused within themselves. Greenhill is a bit oblivious about Violet’s feelings, and Lilidia are both confused about them being online friends lol so now I imagine these four looking at each other confused because they don’t know why are they even here and what is going on.

If both ships are established relationships though, it would be a tough fight, because Greenhill and Lilia are both competitive.

GreenViolet could win because Greenhill knows Violet better than Lilia knows Idia. And Lilidia could win because Lilia is a war veteran who would get super excited about winning and then teasing Idia about them being the best couple ever…

Anonymous asked:

All You Wanna Do by Samantha Pauly, the live Broadway version reminds me of Alois. Especially the last two minutes…

Wow, listening to this while thinking about Alois was quite a journey! 😬 It really does fit him in a lot of ways, and the last two minutes are especially heartbreaking. Ghhh I love Alois’ story so much.

Thank you for sharing, Anon.

Anonymous asked:

The last ask regarding the Leech parents and their reputation if both of their sons started dating. Out of all the characters you ship them with, which one would make the best impression? My first thought was 🥁 Riddle 🥁

If Floyd would ever settle down (which is hard to imagine with his unpredictable personality), it would definitely be with Riddle. I also think Riddle would make a great son-in-law. Even though Riddle would be very nervous meeting The Leech parents. Riddle Leech has a nice ring to it. Maybe Floyd would take Riddle underwater  to live in the coral sea. Goldfish Riddle confirmed??

But then again, I wonder how Mrs. Rosehearts would feel if her son decided to marry the son of a "Yakuza" boss. Mrs. Rosehearts and Mrs. Leech meeting each other?! 👀

(this is related to this reply)

Sorry for the late reply, Anon! Your ask got me thinking as well, as you can see lol

The Leech parents would absolutely love Riddle! Both because he is hilarious (so uptight, I mean, upstanding!) and because he is genuinely a surprisingly good pick. Just like you said, he is so polite, so well-educated, at times it almost feels too good to be true, how come Floyd of all people brought home such a good boy? They always expected Jade to be the one…  They’ll absolutely let the boys know about it lol embarrassing all of them.

Riddle would be super nervous and a bit scared, but parents are parents, even if they are scary fish mafia parents. So he has to be respectful and polite. Which is honestly only going to amuse Mama and Papa more – Riddle is so tiny and cute with his baby face and tiny hands and stuff, but oh so serious. He’s like a baby doll… they would woobify him a lot lol and tease him in general, but always try to be stealthy about it. Maybe they just don’t want to scare him away because there is no way Floyd finds someone else similar to Riddle lol

Also! Riddle being a goldfish merman is such a fun theme, I love it when people draw him like that. Floyd really should turn him into a merman, poor Riddle is going to be so confused. He is reversed Ariel lol

Oh Mrs Rosehearts is going to hate this so much… Leaving her alone with Mrs Leech is such a bad idea, because Mama Leech is going to play along at first, complaining about how having sons is such a huge source of stress, how rude and ungrateful they are sometimes, and just how much she wants them to just be good and proper at everything that they do. Mama Rosehearts could even think that they are on the same page at first (even though this Leech woman is way too dramatic…)… Mama Leech would just troll her the entire time, just as she does with everyone she talks to… but she’ll like her a lot, she’ll consider her a good friend afterwards <3 and call her every day.

Another potential partner that the Leech parents would love is Idia, and we have some thoughts about them, but I’ll share them a bit later – there is another ask related to this topic that I’ll try to write a proper reply tomorrow. So consider this a teaser and thank you for your patience 👀

#replies

[lonelysheepling]

Advice for artists and non-artists but mainly just artists

You know how you do a thing for so long that it’s becomes super mundane and insignificant to you, like when you’re sewing something you just do a basic stitch and struggle to tie a standard knot at the end. But you don’t do this often enough for it to stand out to you. You’re an artist, hey maybe even a professional one, and you’ve been doing your art a certain way for a long time. You use pose references and look up environment pictures to reference. But you still draw shoes without a reference or you draw clothes without any detailed folds.

At various points in my art journey I tried using tutorials, resources, and step by step guides for drawing certain things, be that nature brushes, drawing noses front-on, etc. and my skills at the time were kinda basic so I could never really pull off the tutorials in a way that satisfied me. I then went years just improving on broad areas like perspective and posing, focusing more on the overall composition than the minor details. But one day, years later, I got bored and decided to look up how to draw clothing folds

On the left of the green line is some previous work, on the right was two pieces I drew after I heavily referenced cloth physics

Ignore the shading, lighting, colors, etc. the stuff on the right definitely has way better flow than the stuff on the left. Now it wasn’t like a “wow I used a reference and now I’m a master” situation, there was an adjustment period with some less than stellar examples

But when I created those first 2 folds it was like a fucking switch was flicked in my head and I’ve been improving ever since. I am immensely grateful that I just happened to go looking for reference photos because holy shit something as simple as improving my clothing folds massively boosted my confidence in my work. Something I’ve noticed after I followed tutorials is that during the adjustment period, while the first couple of pieces are very reminiscent of the source tutorial, they start to get a little too far off and I stop referencing the tutorial and start doing my own thing (for better or for worse), but there’s then a period afterwards where I go back (maybe after re-watching the original tutorial) and develop it more into my own style.

Here’s a graph to better explain my thought process

Here’s another gun to the head reminder to use references. Recently I was drawing shoes for a character and I have a pretty consistent method of drawing shoes (consistent, not good).

But I wanted it to look more rugged so I looked up an image of a hiking boot and guess at what point in this timelapse that the reference was pulled up

I had for years tried using tutorials and reference photos but the process never really clicked for me. But over the years I have improved my technical skills and I believe that those improvements and all that practice made it way easier for me to understand and replicate tutorials, i understand now how the specifics of certain things like shading and depth work, picking up new skills that are still in the area I work in became way easier. But Im obviously still finding areas in my art by random chance that I can improve on. Because I don’t think about those parts anymore, they’re in the background of my design process.

This is where my advice to non-artists comes in. Look up tutorials. For anything. You know earlier when I mentioned sewing? Look up a guide on stitching, I just learned today what a surgeons knot is despite having been hand stitching for years. You don’t know what you don’t know, you don’t seek out improvement when you don’t perceive the need to improve. Trust me, there’s always areas to improve but you are going to have to stretch your mind at some point to recognize them. Everybody talks about how you should use tutorials and use references and all that, but I don’t think many people are going to research tutorials for things they don’t feel like they need improvement in.

. Anyway that’s the end of my monthly psa

If something in this post confused you feel free to send me like an ask or a brick through my window with a note attached to it, I’m not picky.

#somewhat art related #art tutorial #art help #art advice #psa i guess #long post #no alt text #ask to tag #advice for artists

[sixpossumsinatrenchcoat]

Natural Satellite [ch 5]

An In Stars and Time AU. In ch 5, Isa & Sif finally put their heads together. You can start from ch 1 here!

Isa’s grip tightens on your shoulder and your mind goes utterly blank. You can feel his—his thumb, just the edge of his thumb brush your collarbone and all you can think is that you want to feel it on your skin because you know, you just know he’d feel so warm. You’re shaking. You want to pull him closer. You have to push him away. If you push him away it will kill you. Why is he touching you, how do you make him stop, how do you make him do it again. How do you make sure he never ever stops. You could cut off his hand. You could cut off his hand and keep it with you, always, always. You could freeze him in time. You could eat him alive. (You’re disgusting.)

[ISAT spoilers thru act 4! CW for panic attacks]

“An article about the King?” Isabeau echoes. “Like… from a newspaper?”

You nod.

“You mean like the one on the first floor?”

“The what?”

He blinks at you. “Umm… on the wall, right? I think it was in someone’s dorm room… I can’t remember exactly where, but—”

“The candle maker?”

“Huh? No, I don’t think—”

“The one with those weird drawings?”

“Oh! Yeah! I think that was it!”

“On the wall?”

“Yyyyes?”

“Like a poster??”

“I mean… yes? I guess so, yeah.”

You throw your hands up. “Who puts up wall art of their impending doom???”

“Pfft,” Isabeau snickers. “The Housemaidens of Dormont, I guess?”

Wow. Wow. That is… You don’t even know where to begin. You just spent the better part of twenty loops scraping the entire House top-to-bottom. Every bookshelf and every barrel; every secret passage and every stupid, pointless dead end. And now you’re supposed to believe that the article was on the first floor? In plain sight?

“...Sif?”

“No,” you hiss, and then snap to attention. “Sorry. I mean, yes? I mean. What?”

“That was your main goal right now, right?”

You nod.

Isa’s eyes sparkle. “So… maybe I saved you a little time?”

“...Maybe.”

“Enough to earn me a favor???”

“Depends,” you tell him, grudging. “What do you want?”

“Can I have today?”

You squint at him.

“Um!! I just mean!! At the House tomorrow, you can do everything how you’re used to, and I won’t even get in the way. Honest. But can I pick what we do today? Can I just, like… book you? For the day? So we can maybe actually talk?”

Hrmph. You can’t understand why he’d want to, but. Well. It’s not like you have other plans. Killing the King is easy now. You still try to help Mira, most loops—her shield really is very useful—but it’s a convenience, not a necessity. “…Fine.”

Isa lights up. “Really???”

Do you need me to write it down for you? You bite it back. By now, Isabeau should already know that you’re poison. There’s no need to beat a dead horse. “Sure.”

“Yeah!! Yes!! Okay!! Thanks, Sif!! I just have a few questions! So just, um, bear with me, okay?”

* * *

Isabeau gets right to the point.

“So… Loop. Any theories?”

You think about it. “I asked who they were once.”

He looks up with interest. “And?”

“They told me to guess.”

“Figures,” he sighs, going back to his notes. “What’d you guess?”

“I thought they were probably me.”

His writing hand lurches, gouging an ugly black streak across the page. “Um??? Um… what made you say that??”

“They know a lot about me,” you say, evasive. It’s true, but it’s not the whole truth. In all honesty, you don’t really know why you said it. It’s hard to put into words. Though, to be fair, you feel that way about most things.

“Um. Um, well… I mean… What’d they say?

“They laughed at me for like, ten minutes.”

“...Right,” he mumbles. “Um. Okay. I’m just gonna mark that down as inconclusive.” He makes a few notes, his tongue trapped between his teeth, before looking up again. “What about the King? I can’t remember what you guys talked about, what with… um. Y-You know. What happened after. But he sorta seemed like he… recognized you?”

You shrug. You haven’t figured that out yet, either.

“He had white hair, too,” Isa muses. “I’ve never seen anyone else with hair like that.”

“So, what? You think he’s my long-lost brother?”

“Wh—No!! I just meant you might be from the same region or something!!” He pauses, looking surprised. “Actually, Sif, I just realized… I don’t think I know where you’re from!”

You nod. That’s true, yes.

“So… where are you from?”

“Oh, um…” You trail off. Isabeau is looking at you, expectant. Like he’s waiting for something. Did you zone out without noticing? It wouldn’t be the first time. But you can’t remember your next line. “I— Sorry, what were we talking about?”

“...Where you’re from?”

“R-Right. Sorry. It’s, um. I’m—“ Your mind stalls out. What did he ask, again? Was it maybe a yes or no question? “Um… Yes?”

“What?”

“What?”

Isa looks concerned, for some reason. Not that he needs a reason. You’re concerning company. “Sif, are you— Can you hear me right now?”

“Huh? Yeah, of course. I lost my eye, not my ears.” Too late, you remember that it grosses people out when you talk about your eye. But you already did it, so you might as well finish the job. “‘Eye’ can hear just fine.”

“Ri-i-ight,” he says slowly. “Um. You’re not, like, messing with me, right?”

“Huh?”

“Yeah, I really didn’t think so. Okay, lemme try this.” He scribbles something down in his notebook and hands it to you. It’s a question. Hi Sif :3 Where are you from?

Oh. Weird. He just asked you that, didn’t he? And you said—you said— What did you say, again?

Of course you know where you’re from. You haven’t been traveling forever. Everyone’s from somewhere. And you—you grew up with your—with your… family, right? Of course you have a family, everyone has a family, so why can’t you—

Why can’t you remember?

You can feel your breaths coming faster, the words blurring on the page but you can still read the question and he’s still waiting for an answer; you have to say something. You know where you’re from! You forget a lot of things but you couldn’t, you wouldn’t, how could you forget your own family? What kind of a monster could forget their own family? So why can’t you— Why can’t you—

“Sif! Sif! Hey! Hey, Sif, come on, can you breathe for me? Can you try to breathe with me?”

But you can’t. You can’t. Your hair is white like the King’s and your parents, your parents must have, they must have had white hair like yours, but were they— Were they short, like you are? Were they stupid and clumsy and quick? Did they— They had a boat, didn’t they? Didn’t you have a boat? Did you even have a boat or did you only dream you had a boat because you, you can’t picture it, one sail or two, its shape, its color and what was its name? You bury your hands in your hair, white like the King’s, like your—

“Sif!” Isa says, frantic, and you realize that he’s reaching for you.

“Don’t touch me!!!” You slap his hand away, flinch out of range. He’s not supposed to touch you, no one is supposed to touch you, there’s something WRONG with you and what if it’s contagious? You’re— You can’t let him get any closer, can’t let him find out that you CAN’T REMEMBER THE NAME OF YOUR HOME, YOUR PARENTS’ FACES, YOU CAN’T LET HIM KNOW THAT YOU—

[ f e e l   a   t u g   a t   y o u r   s t o m a c h ]

—and you’re lying in a field.

Isa stands over you, looking a little nauseous and more than a little frantic. “S-Sif!! Crab, Sif, are you okay?”

“I… What? Yes? What just…”

“It’s okay!!” he says quickly. “It’s okay, it’s okay, don’t worry! You just… I think you h-had a sort of a p-panic attack and you… We looped again. It’s okay, you’re okay, you’re totally fine. We’re just talking. We were just, um, talking about the King.”

You stare at him for a few seconds. “...You found that article.”

“Right!! That’s right! Yeah, you got it! I—” When he looks at his notes, his shoulders slump a little. “Aw, crab. Looping wiped my notes.”

Well. Obviously.

He darts another nervous little glance at you, like he’s afraid of what you’ll do. Like he thinks you’re dangerous. (He’s not wrong. You are dangerous.) “So, it… seems like it happens when you get upset, huh? When you’re overwhelmed or, um. Freaked out.”

You shrug.

“Does that track with the times it’s happened before? When you looped without dying, I mean. Y-You don’t have to tell me what happened!” he adds hastily, when he sees the look on your face. “I’m not asking for details! Just for you to think about it, and… think about if you were usually upset?”

Reluctantly, and very much under duress, you reflect on the times you looped on accident. Just now, having a—what did he call it? A panic attack. That time you scared your family, near the entrance to the House. Watching Isa freeze.

(You do not think about what you did in front of the Favor Tree.)

“...Maybe,” you concede.

“Okay!! Hey, that’s good, right? We just gotta figure out how to do that, and we can totally skip all the, you know. Um. Dying.”

You’re not convinced. Your current system works. And having to get upset every loop… Honestly, it sounds even worse than the dagger.

“Hmmm,” Isa hums, chewing on the end of his pen. “I could… try to scare you?”

You stare at him.

“H-Hey!! I could be scary!!”

You don’t bother arguing. “It wouldn’t work, anyway. I was scared the first time we fought the King.” You give it a little more thought. “I was really scared the second time.”

That makes him wince, for some reason.

“It doesn't scare me anymore,” you reassure him. “Not for ages.”

That does not appear to help.

Isa darts another glance at you. He’s fidgeting more than usual, shifting his weight and picking at his fingernails. “Um. Okay, I— I sort of have an idea, but only if it’s okay with you…”

…Interesting.

“And I— I just wanna say in advance that I'm really sorry about this, it’s just—I think watching you die kinda messed me up a little, haha, s-so if there’s, like, even the tiniest chance that we can find another way, I think we actually really have to—“

“Isa.”

“S-Sif??”

“It's fine.” Whatever he has in mind, it can’t be worse than what you’ve already done. When that doesn’t seem to reassure him, you raise an eyebrow. “We said you could have today.”

“Right. Right!! Okay!! Then I'm just gonna—um—try this. If that’s okay. (Sorry.)”

Isabeau clenches his fists and draws a deep breath, like he's steeling himself for something dreadful. Then he takes two slow, sliding steps and suddenly he’s a lot closer. Closer than in bed in the Clocktower, closer than the greenhouse, (almost as close as when you—)

He’s looming over you, almost. Enough to fill your field of vision. His face is flushed and he’s staring fixedly at the ground to your left, but his eyes keep darting back toward you, like he can’t stop them. Like he can’t help himself.

“S-Sorry,” he mumbles, looking away again, and reaches for you.

You wait for him to pull away but he—doesn’t. He doesn’t. He doesn’t thump you on the arm, like he always looked like he was going to. He just… grazes your shoulder, the barest touch with only the tips of two fingers.

Your breath snags. Your heart is in your throat because he—he isn’t supposed to do that here, or anywhere, ever. He doesn’t touch you, he doesn’t want to touch you so why is he— WHY would he—

Isa’s grip tightens on your shoulder and your mind goes utterly blank. You can feel his—his thumb, just the edge of his thumb brush your collarbone and all you can think is that you want to feel it on your skin because you know, you just know he’d feel so warm. You’re shaking. You want to pull him closer. You have to push him away. If you push him away it will kill you. Why is he touching you, how do you make him stop, how do you make him do it again. How do you make sure he never ever stops.

You could cut off his hand. You could cut off his hand and keep it with you, always, always. You could freeze him in time. You could eat him alive.

(You’re disgusting.)

He’s so beautiful. You’re a monster. He’s not even a person, he’s only an actor, he’s playing a role. But this wasn’t in the script. You can see the flush creep down his throat and you want to trap it in your hands. Catch his pulse between your fingers like a firefly. Drink the heat from his lungs and seal it in a jar where you can’t ever forget. Really take his breath away, ha ha ha.

…You’re disgusting.

He has to force himself to look at you. You can see that it takes effort (but of course it does, you’re DISGUSTING) and when he finally meets your eye you can feel his hand trembling a little, even through your cloak. Just for a second, your self-control slips. Just for a second, you lean into his hand, his touch, his warmth.

You have no idea what your face looks like, but it must be pretty appalling. Whatever he sees in your eyes seems to terrify him. He jolts back, electrified, and you—sag, like someone cut your strings. You’re exhausted.

“Sorrysorrysorry!!!” he babbles, holding both hands out like a shield. “Sorry! Wow! Sorry!! Crab!!!! I really thought you were gonna loop!!!”

Oh. Of course. That’s why he touched you. For his theories. His little experiment. You said that he could have today.

Isabeau wrings his hands. “I-I’m really sorry, Sif, I know you don’t like being touched, I just thought if it worked, you might… hate it less than being stabbed, I guess? But you were totally right, I don’t know what I’m doing, I just thought— I don’t know!!! I just really thought that would work!!!”

You reach for your shoulder, for the place where he touched. You know it's stupid, but it feels warmer than it should. His heat signature, stamped onto your skin. “Why.”

“U-Um? Just because… you know, the whole thing about getting upset, and… Aww, never mind! It was stupid! Sorry!!!” He shakes his head vigorously, jumping in place a little. “Phew! Um! That’s… probably enough for today, haha! I’m sure you need a break!”

Maybe you just didn’t touch me enough, you think. Maybe you needed to hold my hands. Hold me close. Hold me down and break me in half. Tear me apart. Swallow my heart. Hold my face in your hands and lean in so, so close. Hold my heart in your hands and squeeze.

You don’t say anything.

Isa’s gaze drops to his hands. He runs his thumb over the pads of his fingers, gently, gently. Maybe you would loop if he did that to you. But you don’t know.

“...I really am sorry,” he says softly.

Don’t be. “It’s okay.”

“If you ask, I can— I’ll never do it again, if that’s what you want.”

Your chest seizes up. “No.”

He looks up, startled.

(Calm down. You’re scaring him.) “I—wouldn’t mind. If we tried again.” (Stop. You’re taking advantage of him. You’re holding yourself hostage. Can’t you see how gross that is?) “It could be—um. I think it would be better than the dagger.”

“Pfft,” Isabeau snickers. “Careful. I might get an ego.”

“Huh?”

“It’s nothing.” He glances at his notebook, heaves a sigh. “I guess as long as you don’t do it with the knife…”

You frown at him. “You said I could have tomorrow.”

“I-I’m not telling you not to loop!! I am literally just asking you not to do it in the most horrible way possible!!!!”

Ughhhh. “Okay, but that means we’ll have to finish off the King…”

“Uhh,” he says. “...Uh huh?”

“It takes a really long time.”

“Pfft,” Isa snorts. “Yeah, I think I can handle it. Still sounds a lot better than watching one of my favorite people die.”

“I’m—” You bite off the rest of that question. He isn’t talking about you. He's talking about your character. “Um. I mean. If you get a request for my day, then I get to ask something too.”

“You got it!! Anything!! W-Well, maybe not anything, but… pretty much basically anything. As long as it doesn’t… um. Hurt you.”

Ha ha. What a nice idea. But that doesn’t leave a lot of options. Everything hurts you.

“Soooo, what did you wanna do?” he asks cheerfully, and then hesitates. “Oh. Unless you meant that you, um, wanted some time alone, or… you wanted to make plans with someone else…”

Look at the stars with me. You almost say it.

You choose your words carefully. “I want… rest.”

His face crumples into something painfully fond. “Aw, bud. You’ve been doing this for way too long, huh?”

Finally, an easy question. You nod vigorously.

“Poor Sif,” Isa says softly. “And all on your own.”

“We sleep in the same bed.” It’s an evasion. An obvious one, at that. You’re pretty sure you used to be better at this. (‘Bed-ter.’ Is that anything?)

“That’s not what I mean, though.”

…Yeah.

His arms twitch toward you before falling back by his sides. You watch his hands flex and unflex. You think about reaching for them. Maybe this time he would let you.

You don’t move.

Isa tilts his head, curious. “What would you normally do today? If I didn’t call dibs?”

Teach Bonnie to fight. Find Odile’s book. Help Mira with her papers. Look at the stars. Eat dinner. Go to bed. Fight. Book. Papers. Stars. Dinner. Bed. “...Run around after everyone else, mostly.”

“Aw, Sif.”

“And go fishing.”

“Oh!!” he gasps, brightening. “You fish?”

“I—used to. I think.”

His eyebrows twitch, but he doesn’t press you. “Do you really have to do all that stuff every time, though? Of course you gotta eat, but you could nap until then!”

“Mira always wakes me up.” Also, you don’t sleep.

Isa thumps a fist into his palm and squints menacingly. “Well, she’s gonna have to go through me.”

You can’t help it. You snicker. It comes as an almost violent shock. When’s the last time anything actually made you laugh? “She could do it, though.”

“Oh, yeah. She wouldn’t hesitate.”

“No mercy.”

“But I’m tough too!!” he insists. “I can take her!!!”

You huff another laugh. Two in one day. A new record. “…I can’t ask you to do that.”

“Well, I’ve got bad news, Sif,” he says seriously. “Today’s my day. I get to do what I want. And I wanna guard your nap! Nap guardian!! Protector of sleepyheads all across Vaugarde!!!”

Pffft. “There’s no way you want to do that.”

“I do!!”

“There’s no way I can let you do that.”

“You’re gonna have to!!”

You should stop him. Laugh and say you changed your mind. But you can’t. You’re selfish like that. "Well... I guess it does sound bed-ter than sleeping alone..."

"Pffft!! Sif!!!!"

“And I could definitely use a few winks.” You can’t resist winking cutely. It’s kind of your signature.

“Hah!!!!”

“So I guess I could pill-ow you to help.” Oof. That was bad, wasn’t it? “Um. You know. Like, ‘allow?’”

“Hey, you don’t gotta tell me!! And c’mon, Sif, you know I just wanna help! After everything you’ve done for us, it’s the sleep-st I can do!!”

Pfft!!! Oh, wow. Okay. Yeah. He got you. “Snrrrk—khhehehe! Hee hee hee!!”

When you look up, Isabeau is beaming at you with eyes so bright they hurt to look at. Your chest clenches. Your stomach swoops. You look away. “S-Sorry.”

“Please don’t be,” he says, painfully earnest. “I’m… It makes me really happy to… Aw, don’t worry about it. Get some rest. I’ll wake you up in time for dinner, okay?”

“You really don’t have to…”

“My day!!” Isa says fiercely. “I do what I want!!!”

You want to argue. You know that you should. But you're so, so, so so so so tired. At the end of the day, you just don’t have it in you.

I usually get around to posting on tumblr eventually, but if you wanna find out about updates as soon as I post em, you can follow the series on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53412649/chapters/135189547

#isat fanfic #in stars and time #isat au #isa loops au #isat isabeau #isat siffrin #isafrin

[lovesosweeet]

better left unsaid // cth

chapter twelve

in which orion has leukemia, and calum doesn't know.

calum hood x fem!oc

read other chapters

august 1, 2018 los angeles, california orion

My moms come up from San Diego for my first chemotherapy appointment. While I’m grateful that they’re here, I hate that they’re just another group of people who want me to tell Calum. Emelia is working today. She had offered to take the day off, but since my moms are here, I figured she should go to work.

“Honey, do you need us to take Duke while you’re getting treatment?” Mama asks.

I sigh, not wanting to think about yet another round of logistics. I feel like I’m having to rearrange my entire life because of the diagnosis and Cal being on tour. Granted, I don’t even know how much of my life is worth getting into order. Does it really matter if I take my classes if I’m going to be dead in a year or two? Taking care of Duke does matter, of course, but he’s not a very active dog and I want him here while I’m living alone temporarily.

“No, I can keep him here. He’s already got a lot of changes with Calum gone,” I tell her. She nods.

“Of course. Let us know if you change your mind, okay?”

I nod.

We get ready to leave, prepping a cold bottle of water for me to have, along with a box of crackers and a bottle of fruit punch Gatorade. In the pamphlet that Dr. Harris gave me about my chemotherapy drug, it mentioned that I’d likely be nauseous after receiving the IV of the essentially poisonous fluid. I don’t think that they’ll do much to remedy the discomfort, but I want to at least try to dispel the symptoms.

Mom and Mama insist that I also bring a sweatshirt in case I get cold, and I just do what they say. I am not in the mood to debate anything with them. I bring one of Cal’s to have a piece of him with me at the hospital. It’s not the same as having him there to support me, but it’s the closest I’ll get to it.

We drive the short distance to the hospital. My appointment is at 9:00, but they’d woken up super early to be able to pick me up and take me to the appointment. I got a text from Calum at 3 am when they landed in Tokyo and I’m so thankful he didn’t call like he’d promised. I would’ve woken up and I’m already exhausted as it is. The chemo is about to make it all worse.

I check in at the same desk that I’d come to before, but this time I don’t see Russell. A young, pretty blonde nurse calls me back instead and she explains that they’re doing more tests to provide a baseline while we track the chemo’s progress over the next few months. The tests include another blood draw, and they let me lay down, but this time I don’t pass out thankfully. Once the initial dizziness wears off, we walk down the hallway into another room, but this one is far larger.

There are several sterile-looking arm chairs, some of which have patients sitting in them already, an IV hooked up to them. I am sad when I see the youngest patient is a boy who can’t be more than 9, bald, hooked up to the chemo transfusion, and reading a Magic Treehouse book. He's so young and he's already received a death sentence: a cancer diagnosis.

The blonde nurse directs me to my own chair, which has a table next to it that has a “WELCOME, ORION” sign and a bottle of apple juice and a pack of cookies. Wow, way to make a girl feel special while she's dying.

I take a seat in my chair, and my moms stay right in front of me, even though they have chairs available for guests very much available. Maybe I get it from them — the inability to accept help. I can't imagine that they'll stand there the whole time. We're supposed to be here pretty much all day.

Another nurse comes over with a cart of medical supplies. She's older, around my moms' age, and she greets us with a 'good morning' that I just ignore. It's not a good morning.

"Let's get you started. Any questions?" She's already grabbing my arm and wiping it with a disinfecting cloth, prepping it for an IV. The thought of an IV gives me chills, so I try not to stare as she puts it in and then hooks me up to the drip of the chemotherapy drug. I don't want to think about it.

"No questions," I tell the nurse.

She smiles at me and hands me a remote. "Press this if you have any issues. I'll be back in a moment to check on you."

I try to look anywhere except for the bend in my arm where she just inserted my IV. Mom opens her mouth to say something right as my phone starts to ring. It's Calum.

"Hello?" I answer instantly. I've been waiting to hear his voice. I know it's some ungodly early hour in Tokyo, but I'm sure he's got a completely messed up sleep schedule right now, and that won't be changing for a few weeks until they're consistently in the same time zone for a few days.

"Hi baby," Cal's tired voice comes through my speaker.

"How was the flight?"

My moms mouth to me that they're going to go grab coffee and I nod, appreciating the chance to talk to Cal without them eavesdropping.

"Long and boring. Ash kept snoring for most of it." He sounds so tired. I've never understood how they could tour like they do. The different time zones, constant busy-ness, late nights... it's exhausting.

"I'm sorry."

Cal laughs. "Don't be sorry, you had absolutely nothing to do with it. How are you? What are you doing today?"

My breath catches in my throat. I have to lie again. My stomach sinks and I feel guilty all over again, but I don't have time to dwell on that. I have to tell him something. "My moms are here. Probably just gonna take a short hike and get some food, maybe go to a museum."

I feel like I can hear him frown. "I wish they'd come before I left! I've not seen them in forever. Let them know I say hi?"

I nod even though he can't see me. "Yeah, of course. I'm sorry I didn't think to invite them up to see us before. My brain has kinda been mush lately."

"I know, it's okay. I'm excited to spend Thanksgiving with them again, though," he says. Last year we did Thanksgiving with my family and Christmas with his, since Thanksgiving isn't exactly a thing in Australia. We were talking about hosting his parents and Mali here in LA this year, but we hadn't finalized that yet.

"Yeah, that'll be good."

"Hey," Calum says, which makes me laugh. Why is he greeting me again in the middle of our conversation?

"Hey?" I reply, asking it as a question.

"We're one day closer to me coming home."

I smile at the prospect of having him back home and by my side. "Yeah, what is it? A couple of months ‘til you're in San Diego?" I think I'll still be getting treatment, and I'm not sure if I'll be able to cover my tracks with him being so close to home, but I try to focus on getting through things the way they are right now. He will be home for good in November. I can make it to November.

"Yep, two months. It's October 2nd. Oh! Maybe your whole family can come to the show! Would your moms let Eri come even if it's a school night?" His mention of bringing my brother to the show is cute. My little brother absolutely adores Calum. Actually, my entire family is obsessed with him, and I don't blame them.

"Maybe, I'll have to ask." I know for a fact that they would let Eri come to a show, regardless of date or time, but I'm leery to make any kind of promises at this point.

“Just let me know, I’ll put whoever on the list.”

“Yeah, for sure. How’s Japan? How’s everyone else? I wanna hear all about it.”

Cal then dives into the rundown of their arrival to Japan and going through customs, meeting fans at the airport and finally getting to the hotel. He said Matt is already tired of them, but, to be fair, Matt was tired of them after two days of rehearsals. Ash said that Kay’s grandma is back at home, so I won’t be running into her at the hospital. It hasn’t been a full day since they left but I feel like so much has happened. Hooked up to this IV, my cancer feels so much more real.

“I’m getting sleepy again, so I can let you go. Just wanted to hear your voice.” He yawns and I can only imagine how tired he looks. I'm tired too.

“Of course,” I say. “Sweet dreams. I love you.”

“I love you too. I’ll text you when I wake up again.”

We hang up — I’m not sure which one of us does it first or if we do it at the same time, but it seems like the silence comes instantly. The moment my phone goes quiet, I realize just how freezing I am. I remember the sweatshirt my moms made me bring and pull it out of. my tote bag that's on the floor, just as the two sympathetically smiling faces appear in front of me again.

They're carrying Starbucks cups from the food court, a third one in their hands that I presume is for me.

"We got you some mint tea — it's supposed to be great for nausea," Mama says, handing me the hot cup.

"Thank you," I say, wrapping my freezing fingers around the warmth of the tea.

"How's Calum? He's in Japan first, right?" Mom asks. She ignores the chair that's next to me that she could sit in, instead choosing to squat in front of me with her iced coffee in hand.

I nod and take a sip of my tea. I've always loved mint tea. Cal and I seemed to have a cup almost every night for the first few months of us living together. "Yeah, Japan. He's tired, but he'll be tired for a while."

Mom sets a hand on my knee. "So will you." She's right. I'm about to be drained and exhausted and sick and miserable. She smiles sadly at me.

Just like the drip in my IV, the next few hours go incredibly slowly. I'm so cold the entire time, the staff have to bring me a blanket, and I note mentally to bring one with me next week. My moms were prepared and both brought books to read, one of which they end up giving to me. Scrolling on my phone got old quickly, but I found some photos of Cal and the boys arriving in Japan and enjoyed that.

Once I'm done with my first full bag of the chemo drug, we get to leave. Walking out of the hospital and back into the sunshine is jarring, and I'm still cold, even though it's still very warm outside. My moms drive me back home, but once I'm back in the apartment, they have to leave to drive back to San Diego so they can have dinner with my brother. He'd been at a friend's house all day while they were here.

They offer to order me a pizza or something for dinner, but Emelia and I are planning on hanging out tonight. I know I won't feel well, but Em just wants to be there for me in case I need anything. She'll probably stay the night, too. It won't be as comforting as having Calum, but I will gladly take the company.

A few hours pass while I'm alone, and the nausea sets in quickly. I text Emi and ask her to bring food, even though the thought of eating makes me feel worse. I know I need to eat. I don't specify what she should bring, because nothing sounds good. She just says she'll be here in thirty minutes.

I text Calum in the meantime.

To: bass boy 💕 hi my love hope you're getting some beauty sleep i know i said don't bring me anything but actually can you bring me some kind of Japanese snacks pls i will love you forever and ever and ever i mean i'll do that anyway but i do want some snacks ignore me til you're awake was just thinking and thought of it and wanted to ask hehe oh and i know it's not til the v end but can you pretty pretty pretty please buy me chocolate special k in europe i will remind you dw

I think I've successfully pretended things are normal, and I do desperately miss the Special K in Europe.

A knock on the door is timed perfectly with the end of my texting spree, and I know it's Emelia, hopefully with food.

"It's open!" I yell out, not wanting to move from my comfy spot on the couch.

I hear the door opening and closing, followed by some echoed footsteps, and then Emelia is standing in the living room. She has on her work clothes — black leggings and t-shirt, nonslip shoes on her feet. She's not wearing the hat that they make her wear anymore, but her hair is still up in a messy ponytail.

"Hi, how ya feelin'?" She asks. She also holds up the bag of food she brought. It's the ramen from the place that's pretty close to here that I love.

"Pretty shitty, but I know it's only going to get worse."

Em frowns. "Well, have no fear. I brought ramen, and we can watch Girl Meets World all night."

My jaw drops. Everyone in my life knows how much I love Girl Meets World but judges me for liking a kids' show so much, so no one ever watches it with me. She really is such a good friend, willingly watching something that she knows will make me feel better.

"I love you," I tell her.

Then, she smiles, takes off her shoes, and puts the food on the coffee table, disappearing for a minute. When she comes back, she has glasses of water, napkins, and silverware. Emelia plops onto the couch next to me and takes the ramen out of the bag, setting it up for us.

"I got the curry and the mushroom," she explains. "I wasn't sure which you'd want today. I'm fine with whatever you don't want."

Both are normally delicious, but neither sounds appealing right now. The mushroom broth is lighter, so I go with that, thinking if nothing else, I can just sip the broth.

After a few hours of watching TV and pretending to eat my ramen, I suddenly feel Emelia's eyes on me. She's got a thoughtful look on her face, and I don't know what it is.

"What's wrong?"

She shakes her head. "Sorry, was just thinking. Do you know if you're going to lose your hair?"

I gulp. I'd looked into it. It depends largely on which form of chemo you're on, but also, it comes down to luck. "The drug I'm on is one that doesn't usually cause it, but there's still a chance I might."

Emelia nods, thinking. "Do you want to get a wig? Just in case."

I'd thought about it, but wigs that actually look nice are very expensive. Medical bills are already racking up, and my moms are going to help me, but it's a lot. "No, I think I'll just cross that bridge if I get to it."

"Do you want to cut your hair?"

It's relevant, but it catches me by surprise. I hadn't thought about that. I might lose my hair, but I've had long hair for so long. I've not cut it much shorter in so long. I'm also... dying. Why do I need to have long hair until I die? Why can't I change it up?

Isn't that what life is all about? Doing fun things?

I turn to her. "Let's do it."

I stand up and head straight for the kitchen, grabbing scissors from our junk drawer. I then go into the bathroom, switching on the lights. Emelia joins me soon after I start tying my hair into four sections, aligning the elastics at the same level, halfway between my chin and my shoulders.

Emelia doesn't say anything, she just smiles at me through the mirror and watches while I begin to saw off my hair. I don't know why I'm making such a sudden, big decision, but I've chopped a full ponytail off already, so there's no going back. Leave it to leukemia to stop me from overthinking every piece of my life.

Once I've cut off all the length, I take off the elastics holding everything together and have Emelia help me even everything out. It's not perfect, but if I'm about to lose it, it doesn't matter. If I don't lose it, I'll go see a hairdresser to fix it.

"OK, let me take a picture and then I need to go lay back down.

I take a mirror selfie, covering my face with my phone, just showing the lack of hair cascading over my green sweatshirt. I send it to Cal while I trudge back to the couch, flopping face-first onto the mountain of throw pillows and blankets.

"Want some Tums? Or Pepto?" Em asks.

"No," I groan. Why did cutting my hair suck all of the energy out of me?

"You okay?"

"No."

Em chuckles, and I feel the couch sink slightly as she sits next to me. "Can I get you anything?"

"A new body?"

She snorts. "Can't do that, sorry."

I let out a pained sigh, turning my head so it's not face down on the fuzzy blanket. "Thank you for being here."

"You have to stop thanking me. I know you'd be the first person holding my hand and bringing me food if it was me."

She's right. I'd probably let her move into our place so I could take care of her as much as she'd let me. I don't think she'd take me up on the offer to move in, but there'd undoubtedly be an offer. I'd do anything for her.

"I think I'm gonna sleep," I announce. My phone buzzes several times in my pocket. Hoping it's Calum, I pull it out.

From: bass boy 💕 UM EXCUSE ME MADAM YOU CANNOT JUST SPRING THIS ON ME IT LOOKS SO GOOD GOOD MF MORNING TO ME MY GIRLFRIEND IS A GODDESS can't wait to see it in person <3 and 1000% will get you snacks and special k anything for you

read next chapter

a/n: hi hi hi sorry sorry it's been a lil bit have been slowly working on this chapter :)

#5sos #5 seconds of summer #luke hemmings #calum hood #ashton irwin #fanfiction #fanfic #5sosfam #5sos fanfic #calum imagine #calum x fem!oc #calum x oc

[capricornmuffins]

Majorly in need of Kendall’s improved and sweet birthday please!! 👀🎂❤️

Anything for you, lovely!! Thank you for the inspo as always! ❤️❤️ this is fluffy and also a little angsty because ken and Rava are separated at this point in the timeline and I have no self control. I’m sorry this got so long!

Summary: A happier birthday for Kendall. Set a few months before the pilot.

Some smuttiness under the cut also!

Anyway, Don’t Be a Stranger

“Hey!” Her warm smile greets him when he answers the FaceTime. “Happy birthday, grandpa.”

“Yeah,” he scoffs, unfastening the tie he put on. Too stuffy. “Thanks. 39–fucking prehistoric.”

“Did you get your AARP brochure yet? Or is that the big 4-0?”

“Uh huh. Laugh it up. You’re next.”

“Hey, I still have 4 months to go, so. You’ll always be old first.”

“Oh, that’s nice. You uh—you better have a great present for me. To make up for this fucking harassment on my birthday.”

“Who said I’m getting you a present?” She asks, brow raised.

He huffs a laugh. It’s too easy to fall back into their usual banter—he never knows quite where to draw a line.

“What are the kids doing?”

“Getting ready for school, but they want to say hi—hey, guys? Daddy’s on the phone.”

“Happy birthday daddy!” Sophie practically screeches on the other end. Her crooked smile makes Kendall’s heart constrict. She grows every time he sees her—which is admittedly less these days. He’s burning the candle at both ends, getting ready to take up the mantle at Waystar.

Only a few more months to go til Dad’s 80th. The final countdown.

“Thanks, baby girl. You pick your dress out today?”

“Yes! It’s my new one from Auntie Shiv.” She hands the phone back to Rava so she can do a twirl.

“Wow, look at you! Auntie Shiv picked out a beauty. You look great, sweetie. What’s Ivey doing?”

“He’s here—he wants to say hi,” Sophie passes the phone to Iverson.

His baby boy. His son. His legacy.

“Hey buddy!”

“Hi daddy,” Iverson waves, pushing his too-big glasses up the bridge of his nose. Kendall aches.

“You all ready for school?”

“Uh huh.”

He hears Rava whisper to him offscreen.

“Happy birthday,” he recites dutifully.

“Thanks, bud. Hey—I got a new Lego set for us. It’s that Spider-Man one you wanted.”

“Cool!” He nods enthusiastically, a genuine smile lighting up his little face. “Will you help me build it? Like last time?”

“Sure will. I think you’re gonna like this one even better.”

“Hey, Ken—we have to run—“

“Oh, sure—have a good day at school guys. I love you.”

“Bye daddy,” The answer in unison.

“Hey—one sec,” Rava comes back on.

“What’s up?”

“I know you have them this weekend, so I haven’t asked. But—do you have any plans tonight? For your birthday?”

“Um—“ He wishes he could say he was throwing a cool party, or even just having dinner at Dad and Marcia’s. He should just lie, because his actual plan of working as late as humanly possible and passing out is pathetic even to him.

“I’m sure you probably do—“ she goes on, almost nervously.

“I um—yeah, I don’t, actually. Been a lot going on at work, you know, with everything. So—I was just gonna work late.”

There’s an almost pitying look in her eyes that makes him feel even worse.

“Well, if you don’t feel like being at the office for 14 hours, I was wondering if um—maybe you’d want to come over for dinner? With the kids?”

“I—wait—really?”

“Yeah—I would have asked sooner, but um—I don’t know. I figured you’d have plans.”

“Yeah,” he scoffs. “I’m uh—I’m in really high demand.”

She laughs a little. “You usually are.”

“Yeah—I don’t know about that. But um—sure, that sounds great. Really great.”

“Yeah?” She looks relieved. As if he’d say no to her. “You wouldn’t rather be out with the guys?”

“Come on, no way.”

“Okay,” she smiles. “Okay, good. You think you can get here for 6:30? They usually eat at 6, but I know it’s not easy getting out early around there.”

His mind flashes to the nights he wasn’t home until 9 or later, too coked up to eat the food she’d leave out for him. He screws his eyes shut and lets it pass. Bad, bad times.

“Yeah, no, that’s fine.”

“You sure?”

“I think they can let the birthday boy out early. I’ll be there.”

“Great. I’m glad we’re doing this. It’s been a little while since the four of us had dinner together…” she trails off.

“Uh huh. Yeah, this is good. And hey—thanks, Rav.”

“Yeah, of course. See you tonight.”

It’s his second birthday since they’ve been separated. Last year was spent in a black hole of depression after she left with the kids. She took them to her parents, brought him to rehab, and left him with the promise that this whole thing was temporary. Just so he could completely focus on his sobriety.

They’d get through it, she said, but she needed time. How much more fucking time did she need?

This time last year, he hoped he wouldn’t see 39. The sky fell and fell and fell. He’s better now — rehab and therapy have stuck. He’s learned to live with the pain, like some incurable disease. But the hole in his heart is still there, it scabs over and the slightest misstep reopens the wound. He’s all scar tissue. She still hasn’t come back to him fully, only in late night phone calls and the occasional dinner hand-offs that feel like explicit trysts.

But now, she’s finally throwing him the life vest. He’s fucking taking it.

————

He spends the last hour of the work day anxiously checking his watch. He needs to be en route to Rava’s by 6 and he’s determined to get there on time. He’s going to prove to her that his head is clear, that he can be the man she needs again. To prove what a good father he is.

“Hey, dad—“ he sticks his head in to Logan’s office. “I’m heading out.”

“Bankers hours today?”

“I’m uh—I’m having dinner with Rava and the kids.”

Logan’s face is stony.

“For my—for my birthday.”

“Uh huh,” he looks like he wants to say more, but remains impassive. “Well. Good. That’s fine.”

“So I’ll—I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Well, when you’re done there, if you want to come by for a drink—you know, for your birthday. Marcy and I will be home.”

“Oh, yeah. Sure.”

“Good. Give the kids my love, won’t you?”

He’s no longer looking at him, attention back on his screen. Dismissed.

“Yeah, of course. I’ll bring them by soon.”

“Happy birthday, kiddo,” he says, still not looking up.

“Thanks.”

He feels light as he gets into the idling Mercedes.

“‘Sup, Fikret.”

“Evening, Mr. Roy. To Rava’s as planned?”

“Please.”

He puts on his headphones to decompress from the day, stomach fluttering in anticipation of seeing Rava and the kids. Their absence has taken up permanent residency in his ribcage and he can’t shake it loose. It’s ever-present, the weight of his fractured family. His failure. Loneliness.

But today he feels hope, because he knows they’re getting back together. She’ll see that everything will work out. They’re just going through a rough patch right now. He has to pay the toll for his sins.

“Thanks Fikret,” he nods as he steps out of the car. Rava’s new building feels tall and looming and unfamiliar.

She buzzes him up and opens the door herself instead of her usual housekeeper. His heart almost leaps out of his chest at the sight of her. She’s casual in faded jeans that hug her perfectly, and a fashionably slouchy white sweater. She’s done her hair and makeup though — he tries not to feel too good about it.

“Hey,” she greets him with an easy smile, the one that sucks the air out of him.

“Hey,” he tries to sound chill, but he feels like he just ran the fucking New York Marathon.

He clocks her taking in his Brioni suit with a flicker of satisfaction.

“You look nice,” she says.

He leans in to embrace her, his confidence growing. Her sweater is soft, tangible against his fingers, grounding him. But the scent of her Jo Malone is still a gut punch, so he’s careful not to inhale too deeply.

She rubs his back, almost absentmindedly, before pulling away.

“Thanks. So do you.”

“Oh, thanks. I’ve been running around,” she waves him off. “The kids are so happy you’re coming.”

“Really?” He smiles, daring to let himself be cheered at the thought.

“Mhmm,” she gives him a funny look. “Did you think they wouldn’t be?”

“I mean—I dunno. We FaceTime almost every day. I’m not that exciting.”

“You’re their dad, Ken,” she reminds him gently. “They always want to see you.”

He nods, swallowing a lump in his throat.

“Hey, guys? Dad’s here!” Rava calls out up the stairs. The sound of barreling footsteps echoes from the second floor.

“Don’t run down the stairs, please,” she adds. “This spiral staircase is a fucker,” she says to him.

“Architectural Digest’s wet dream, though,” he notes.

“Hi daddy!” Sophie appears at the top of the stairs, consciously making an effort to walk slowly.

“Hey, there’s my best girl,” he opens his arms to her. She hits the last step and launches herself into him.

Iverson follows behind, nudging himself into Kendall’s side.

“Hey, slugger,” he ruffles his hair, pulling him in for a hug.

Sophie wraps her little arms around his neck and looks at him earnestly, the way she has since she was a toddler.

“Daddy, we’re making you a present. Me and Ivey have to finish it. Okay?”

She reminds him so much of Rava, all soft eyes and self-assurance and abundant affection.

“Whatever you say, wild honey-pie.”

She kisses his cheek, making him want to sink to the floor and weep.

Iverson stays quiet, looking at the ground. His boy, a piece of his soul, who’s so much like him in every way he almost wants to shake it out of him, like a fucking genetics Etch-A-Sketch.

“How was school today, guys?”

“Good. We learned about presidents. I said that you know the President in real life,” Sophie informs him.

“Oh yeah? You remember meeting him a few years ago? When you were like—“ he puts his hand down by his knee. “Yay high?”

“Uh huh,” Sophie nods. “He was weird.”

He and Rava both snort.

“Yeah, uh—he is kinda weird, huh?”

“Grandpa likes him,” Iverson comments.

“Yeah—Grandpa likes everyone.” He means it as a joke. Rava raises an eyebrow, and he shoots her a look.

“Hey,” she intercedes. “You wanna guess what’s for dinner?”

“Uh—how about….” He looks between Sophie and Iverson. “Spaghetti worms?”

“No!” T hey giggle.

“No?” He smiles. “Huh, okay. Dirt cake?”

“Daddy,” Sophie rolls her eyes fondly.

“Okay, okay. Tell me.”

They both look at Rava and shrug.

“I had Margareta make your favorite filet. You know I’m hopeless with a steak.”

“You—you did?” He prickles with pleasant surprise.

“Well yeah! You have to have your favorite meal on your birthday,” she smiles.

Fuck, he loves her. This feels like how it used to be. He wants to say fuck the dinner and lay her down on the countertop—

He exhales heavily, expelling the pent up emotion from his lungs.

“You are fucking hopeless with a steak.”

“Little ears,” she nods to the kids, but there’s a glint of humor in her eyes.

“That’s a bad word,” Iverson informs him.

“I know, I’m sorry buddy. That doesn’t mean you get to say it, okay?”

Iverson nods.

They spend the next hour at the dining room table. His appetite has returned more recently, particularly now that he’s clean. It’s been a long time since he’s tasted a homemade meal, usually preferring takeout sushi if he isn’t at a business dinner.

“No steak for you, Soph?” He asks.

“Her friend Avery Bancroft is a vegetarian, so…” Rava offers.

“Oh, right. That Bancroft?”

“Uh huh.”

“Red meat is gross. It’s all bloody,” Sophie wrinkles her nose.

Iverson picks at his plain pasta.

“How’s your pasta, Ive?” He asks.

“Good. I put butter on it now.”

“Awesome, bud.” He thinks that’s the right answer.

“Mom, Ivey and I need to go finish daddy’s present.”

“Okay, go ahead.”

“Can’t wait,” he calls after them.

She clears their plates, and he helps stack the dishwasher, despite Margareta hovering nearby.

“You want some coffee?” She asks.

“Uh…yeah. Sounds good,” he smiles.

He sits down at the island as she sets to making them coffee. She doesn’t ask him how he takes it, but still makes it perfectly.

“You remembered,” he notes.

“I’ve been making your coffee for like, 15 years. Have you figured out how to use your machine yet?” She teases.

“Fuck off,” he laughs. “And no. Carla handles that…”

“Helpless,” she rolls her eyes. He tosses a sugar packet at her.

“What’s new with you? How’s work?” He asks, trying to keep things on neutral ground.

“It’s good—you know, the usual. Taking on more projects lately than I normally would.”

“What, you strapped for cash?” He jokes, trying to keep the bitterness out of it.

“Ha ha. No, I just…need to throw myself into things right now.”

“I uh—I get it.”

“But hey, I got you something.”

“You—you got me something?”

“It’s um—it’s nothing crazy. Just a card.”

She procures an envelope from the basket on the granite counter, simply reading Ken.

The card is simple, almost generic. Not much like the Husband birthday cards she used to thoughtfully pick out for him, making sure the words aligned with her feelings perfectly.

But he opens it, and lottery tickets fall out. He chuckles, remembering the year she started adding them to his birthday gifts as an inside joke. They were engaged at the time.

Happy birthday, Ken. I’m so proud of all the work you’ve put in this year. I hope 39 is happy and healthy! Love, Rav

Love.

He’s touched. He holds the lottery tickets in his hand. If you win, you have to leave Waystar and start a rival company, she used to say. They’d spend all night coming up with names and business plans.

“Never did win any of these.”

“Maybe this’ll be your year,” she smiles sadly.

“Thank you, Rav. You didn’t have to.”

She shrugs. “It’s still your birthday.”

“Dadddy!” Comes Sophie’s voice from the top of the stairs. “Close your eyes!”

“Okay,” he plays along, covering his eyes. He can’t see the smile on Rava’s face, but he knows it’s there.

He hears their footsteps come into the kitchen.

“Okay, open!”

Sophie is proudly holding up what looks like an art project, a poster with all kinds of construction paper shapes glued to it. There are 7 or 8 pictures of him and the kids, and a couple of the 4 of them, glued haphazardly around the construction paper. Stickers dot the borders.

At the bottom, I LOVE MY DAD is written in Sophie’s messy handwriting. They’ve both signed their names.

Kendall can’t speak. He feels like he’s been broken in half.

“Do you like it?” Iverson asks, proud of his handiwork.

“Guys—“ he chokes out. “I love it. This is so great, thank you. Wow. Come here.”

He scoops them both into each arm and hugs them against him. They nuzzle into him and he tries desperately not to let his eyes well up. He might be failing.

Rava unexpectedly joins the hug, wrapping her arms around all of them.

“We saved the best for last,” she says.

“There’s more?”

“Cake!” Sophie and Iverson chorus.

———

After they eat cake, and the kids have showered and gone to bed (Ken even got to tuck them in), he and Rava are sitting on her couch.

“This is the best birthday I’ve had in a while,” he says. “Last couple of years have been—“ he doesn’t need to finish the sentence. She knows. “Thank you.”

“I’m glad we could do it.”

“And, hey, this place looks great,” he looks around the vast living room. His unofficial, non-legally-mandated child support is clearly doing it’s job.

It’s surreal that she has a whole

new home, with new furniture and art on the walls and sculptures on the coffee tables. But he still sees traces of their life before—there are scattered pictures of him with the kids, of his arms around a radiantly pregnant Rava, of him holding Iverson in the hospital when he was born.

He thinks of his own home, their home, that still carries her ghost. He can still smell her on his sheets, hear her stilettos on the marble entryway, feel the indent on her side of the bed.

“Oh, thanks! Yeah—I actually brought in a decorator this time around.”

“What? Given up your interior design side hustle?” She’d always insisted on decorating their previous homes herself, filling them with familiar touches.

“Yeah, I just—I didn’t have it in me for this one,” she shrugs. There’s sadness behind her nonchalance, and he feels it in his bones. He can fix this.

“Rava—it doesn’t—it doesn’t have to be like this,” he looks at her earnestly, trying to reach her the way he used to.

“Ken,” she sighs.

“Seriously—hasn’t this little trial separation gone on long enough? I mean, come on.”

“You’re doing so well. You’re sober and getting ready for the big job—I just—I think you should stay focused,” she puts a hand on his knee.

“I am—I’ve turned things around. I’m good. I’m in a really fucking good headspace.”

“I know,” she pats his knee. “I meant it—I’m really proud of you. I want you to be happy.”

“But I’m not—I’m not like— happy happy. Not without you. Or them.”

She closes her eyes and sighs. When she opens them, they’re glassy.

“You still have them, Ken. They adore you.“

It’s a small comfort.

“I know, but I mean—are—are you happy? That they have to FaceTime me every night instead of us all being together? Do you like going to sleep alone every night?”

“Well it’s not ideal, obviously, but—“

“Because I fucking hate it, Rav. It’s been awful without you.”

She looks pained. “I’m sorry. I am. Believe me—this hasn’t been easy for me either.”

He wants to dispute that, but then he remembers the first few months of their separation. When she’d call him at 2 am. They’d stay on the phone in silence until she fell asleep. Sometimes he’d hear her crying quietly.

“I can do both, now. I can focus on being the big boss and you guys. That’s all that matters to me.”

She brings a hand gently to his face, cupping his cheek. He leans in to her touch.

“We can’t keep doing this,” she protests, but it’s half-hearted.

He leans in closer, eyeing her lips. He wants to suck her in until she’s absorbed into his bloodstream.

“Do you—do you still love me?” He asks tentatively. He’s both confident in and terrified of her answer.

She pulls back a little, removing her hand.

“That’s not fair.”

“No—I’m sorry. I know.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“Okay, sure. But it is. I mean, do you still love me or not?”

She bites her lip, nodding imperceptibly. He catches it nonetheless. His heart leaps. She still loves him. He feels that pesky glimmer of hope again.

“That’s—that’s never been the issue.”

“Then what the fuck are we doing?”

“We’re doing the right thing.”

“How? That doesn’t—that doesn’t even make any sense? How can us not being together be the right thing?”

“You know why.”

“I’ve done everything you asked. I went to rehab. I’m sober. I’m in therapy.”

“Ken,” she clutches at his hand. “I’ve already gone through one devastating breakup here, okay? I can’t do it again.”

“But we wouldn’t break up again. I’m better now. We’re still not—I mean, we’re not like, really broken up. We’re just taking a break.”

“Okay Ross,” she laughs a little.

“Hey,” he leans back in, close to her face. He looks into her eyes. “I still love you. Okay? I love you.”

“You can’t just say that,” her voice wobbles.

“It’s the truth, baby.”

He can see the walls crumbling within her. He leans in even closer, forehead resting against hers. His lips a millimeter away from brushing hers.

“Ken, please,” she whispers. “Don’t.”

He pulls back, stinging like she’s slapped him.

“Okay, fine. I won’t—if you don’t want me to. I’ll stop. I’m—I’m sorry.”

She searches his eyes and he feels heat rising in his cheeks. She always makes him feel raw and exposed.

To his surprise, she grabs his face and brings her lips to his.

He hungrily grabs at her and she climbs clumsily into his lap. Her hands run through his hair while his travel up and down her back. He can feel her smile into the kiss, making him do the same.

This feels good, this feels right. He can feel himself coming back to life.

He skims his fingers under her sweater, making her shiver. She begins to undo the remaining buttons on his shirt as he moves to the button of her jeans. He’s already hard as a fucking rock as she wiggles out of her jeans, grinding against him. The feel of her wet cotton panties makes him moan in her ear.

“Rav,” he growls, fingers threaded in her hair, gripping at her scalp.

She pulls off his shirt, running her hands over the planes of his chest, down his stomach, like she’s reacquainting herself with the feel of him.

“Touch me,” she whispers, nibbling his earlobe, the spot she knows drives him crazy.

He indulges her command.

They end up on the floor of the living room (the couch was nowhere near big enough) while the kids still sleep peacefully upstairs.

They’re spent, panting and sweaty. Her hair is stuck to her forehead, and he brushes it aside. She shoots him an almost-nervous smile. He squeezes her into him.

“That was—“

“Yeah—wow.”

“That was fucking interstellar sex. Holy shit.”

“Yeah—what was that new move? Have you been using it lately?”

“Oh, yeah. I’ve had a lot of dates to practice it on.”

She narrows her eyes, and he basks in her hint of jealousy.

“With uh—with Pornhub. And my right hand. Or your nudes.”

She laughs, whacking him in the stomach. He grunts exaggeratedly, curling in on himself. “You should delete those.”

“Easy, killer. You know I’m fragile right after I cum.”

“Mhmm,” she grins.

“You think they heard us?” He nods at the stairs.

“Nah. They’re hard sleepers.”

“They get that from you. A fucking freight train crashing into the bedroom couldn’t wake you up,” he recalls, making her snort.

“Iverson is like you though,” she says. “He has trouble falling asleep sometimes. Gets jumpy. He needs to be woken up gently.”

“Yeah, there’s no waking you up gently. I used to have to practically toss you onto the floor. Dump water on your head and shit.”

“Shut up,” she laughs again, resting her head against his shoulder. “You never did that.”

“How would you know? You fuckin’ slept through it.”

He grins at her laughter. It’s the kind he used to be able to pull from her easily. He wants to drink it up, snort it like powder.

“Okay, stop. We’re actually gonna wake them,” she’s wiping tears of mirth from her eyes.

“Should we—“

Before he can say should we go to bed, his phone vibrates from the pile of their clothes. Her smile fades a bit.

“Sorry, one sec—“ he rummages for his pants, pulling his iPhone out of the pocket.

“Fuck. It’s Dad. Just—just let me get rid of him,” he promises, pleading with his eyes. Her smile is gone, replaced with a resigned look on her face.

“Hey, Dad.”

“Are you still coming?”

“Oh—shit, sorry. I forgot. I’m still at Rava’s.”

“Uh huh. Marcy and I are going to bed. So don’t bother.”

“Fuck. Sorry dad. I’ve been spending time with the kids—“

“Right, sure, sure. Good.”

“Yeah?”

“Uh huh. You have a good night, kiddo.”

“Uh—thanks, Dad. Hey, um—“

Logan’s already hung up.

“Well, fuck. Whoops.”

“What’s up?” Rava asks, covering herself with a blanket from the couch.

“I told Dad I’d stop by tonight, after this. But—“

“Oh. Right.”

“Yeah it’s—it’s fine. Whatever. I’d rather be here, obviously. I just didn’t think we’d—“

“Yeah, I—me either. Maybe we shouldn’t have—“

“Hey, no no. I wanted to. You have no idea—“

He reaches for her before she can slip out of his grasp again. She looks hurt.

“It’s just—it would have been nice to—I don’t know. Not make plans with your dad overlapping dinner with us. That’s all.”

“Hey, come on. It wasn’t like that. I told him maybe I would, if I wasn’t—if you didn’t want me to stay long.”

Her eyes soften. But she picks up her clothes and starts to get dressed.

“Rav,” he can feel the magic of the last hour fading away, and he clings to her arm. “Please. Let’s just—let’s go to bed.”

She rubs a hand over her face. “I don’t want the kids getting the wrong idea—“

He feels the air deflate from his lungs, crushed.

“Right,” he scoffs.

“No—Ken, not like that—“

“Uh huh. No, sure. Sure.”

“I just—I don’t want to rush into things. I’m trying to set boundaries.”

“Oh, yeah, well. I’d argue that me being inside you is not a great fucking boundary?” He spits.

“I know, I know. I just—when I’m with you—you know? When I’m with you—“ she trails off, looking anguished, grabbing at his hand.

He sighs, anger releasing.

“I know.”

“It’s been so hard,” she wipes at her eyes. “It’s not fair. It fucking sucks.”

He’s caught off guard and a little indignant. She thinks it’s been hard? His anger flares up again, withdrawing his hand.

“This whole fucking thing was your idea. You wanted this.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t—want this. This wasn’t in the fucking vows, you know?” she sighs, defeated. “I can’t rehash this all again.”

“Uh huh—maybe pass it off to your therapist. I’m gonna go.”

“Kendall,” she puts a hand on his arm. “I don’t want to ruin this—tonight felt like we were a family again.”

“Yeah, it did.” He feels cagey, like he needs to pace.

“Can we not—can we not leave this angrily? Please?”

She looks down at the ground, still wrapped in the blanket. She chews a nail nervously—an old habit. He feels a pang of guilt, and his anger deflates.

“I’m sorry. I’m working on not reacting emotionally,” he parrots his therapist calmly.

“I know. It’s okay.”

“I’m gonna—I am gonna go, actually. I’m sorry. I just—I’m sorry, Rava.”

“I know,” she placates. “You’re okay.”

He nods, willing it to be true. He takes her card and the kids present.

“I’ll um—I’ll see you Friday. For pickup.”

“Yes—let me know what time works.”

“Yeah, will do.”

She cautiously wraps her arms around him, rubbing his back. He sighs, returning the hug.

“I’m sorry,” he says again.

“It’s okay. You’re okay. Happy birthday.”

Late that night, he’s laying in bed. He feels shitty. He’s hovering over their text thread, wishing he was in bed with her. He fucking hates all of this.

He clutches the kids gift close to him, like if he holds it tight enough, their belief in him will rub off.

As he debates calling her, because he’s desperate for her comforting words, he sees that she’s calling him.

“Hey,” he answers in surprise. “I was—I was thinking about you.”

“Me too. I um—can we—“

“Uh—yeah. Yeah, of course.”

“Okay,” she sounds relieved.

He closes his eyes and lays the phone down next to his head, each of them falling asleep to the sound of their breathing.

#succession fic #Kendall Roy #Rava Roy #kenrava #kendall x rava

[sasster]

Wisdom

[Google Doc]

You know the song Words of the Wise by Truslow, don't you?

--

The Sailor

The night is cool, with an ocean breeze that rushes toward the dock and welcomes Zurven with a sweet, salty kiss. As far back as he remembers, the sea has always been a welcome escape. It carried his fears away on billowing waves, where they disappeared into a distant horizon, and he was allowed respite from his vanilla scented tomb. Even just for a second. That was the single perk to his time with Persep, a thought he will take to his grave whispers, access to Areios’s cliffside hive.

Before he has much time to think on and be upset by it, the dock creaks under the weight of someone walking behind him and he turns to meet their gaze. A troll that was at the same time familiar and entirely new to him fills his field of view. His hair was much shorter when he disappeared, cut tight in order to maintain a proper appearance just like any other pretentious violet blood might have it. Today, it casts down past his shoulders, in waves that resemble the ones he spends his nights navigating.

Shock overtakes the seadwellers features, but it is quickly replaced by a smile that accentuates the scars that pepper his face.

That’s another change, imperfections decorate the violet blood in a map that tells the story of where he has been. Of who he is now. A fractured horn and torn ear and fin. This is not the Velrum that disappeared all of those sweeps ago.

Zurven should be surprised, but he knew what to expect. Harlan’s intervention made sure of it. 

Velrum waves a three fingered hand as he comes closer, and he tries not to let his stare linger. But the gold band around the middle digit draws the eye with the way the twin moons shine off of it. The seadweller does not seem bothered.

“Zurven, is that you?” Even his voice doesn’t ring with the same uptight, strictness that it did in the past. Instead, it seems light. Free of burden. He comes to sit and lets one of his legs dangle over the sea below.

Though neither of their feet touch the water, Zurven cannot help but notice how much further his own is away from it.

“Wow, how long has it been?”

The smaller troll makes like he is looking at a watch that isn’t there and shrugs.

Velrum laughs.

“Doesn’t matter. I’m glad to see you..” He pauses to get a good look at him. “Out. Away from all of that.”

The sailor sounds unsure as he speaks, each of the six words enunciated slowly. Worry almost creases his brow.

A quick nod assuages his fear and he lets out a quick sigh.

“Good. It was a fucked up situation.”

“No kidding.” Zurven sighs. “How did you do it?”

“Hm?”

“Move on from everything.”

Velrum seems taken aback by the question. Anyone who knows anything about Zurven would guess that he would sooner swallow his tongue than choose to speak about this for longer than necessary. Even someone who hasn’t seen the brown blood since he was six sweeps old.

The seadweller runs a hand through his hair, knocking it so it cascades down along his back instead of over his shoulder. It frames his face in a way that makes him look much older than he is.

“Zurven,” he starts, moving to take one of his hands between both of his. The metal of his jewelry feels cool against the smaller troll’s skin. “Time is a weird thing.”

Zurven's laugh is breathless.

“Tell me about it.”

The response he receives is a squeeze, one designed to keep him grounded.

“Time and space are a wonderful tool. They will not heal all of your wounds. They can only provide you with the chance to come to terms with them.”

“That’s what people say. All the time, it’s what they say.”

“It’s hard as hell, Zurv.”

“Doable?”

“I didn’t say impossible, kid.”

Zurven swallows his uncertainty, not really sure what he was expecting to hear in the first place.

The Soldier

Koteus is much easier to track down, despite the claims that he is all but a hermit now. The seadweller lived in the same hive, surrounded by dense forest and an expansive lake from the time he was discharged from the fleet. What is surprising, however, is the sprawling garden that hugs around a considerable length of the hive, and the lively sheet moss that grows up the wall that the hive shares with the garden.

It is a sight to behold.

Certainly not one anyone would expect a so-called shut in to keep up with. Zurven sucks in a deep breath, admiring the warmth of the garden as it brings him to life.

“Hey kid, y’lost or somethin’?” Calls out a yellow blood from the front door, he waves a robotic hand in the air to get his attention.

The brown blood blinks back at him, kicking himself internally for neglecting to account for hivemates when setting out for this trip.

“I’m just here to see Koteus.” He finally says, when the silence blankets them the same way the moss did the residence. “It’s been a while.”

“‘Course you are,” The stranger starts, then pauses to look at a display on his arm. Finally, he motions for him to follow him as he moves back into the hive. “C’mon.”

Zurven nods and toddles along after him.

The yellow blood leads him through a front room and a living room first, where he takes in all the sights the home has to offer. The most important thing he could note was that there were family pictures littered throughout the two rooms. All sorts of faces smiled back at him, with each other, as the pair made their way into a kitchen much larger than he would know what to do with.

“Little man!” A familiar voice calls out and draws his attention to an island at its center.

Standing there beside it is Koteus, a bright smile on his face and a curtain of dreads that threaten to kiss the floor despite much of it being tied up into a bun. The tattoo on his face obscures much of his expression, but it is easy to tell he is happy.

“Little is right.” The cyborg emphasizes as he exits the way they entered.

Zurven can’t find it in him to be offended by the sentiment, he is easily the shortest person in the room. Aside from the very small human that sits on the counter, handing Koteus bowls of varying sizes with great enthusiasm.

She uses a free hand to wave at him.

“Jessie, Zurven. Zurven, Jessie.”

“Hi!” Jessie beams, pointing at Zurven and then her own chest. “Your sign?”

“Horologium.” He says pulling the hoodie he’d stolen from his partner tighter around his shoulders, suddenly incredibly self conscious. “It’s a clock.”

“Har-go-lum!” Jessie shouts as she clasps her hands together before getting back to her very serious job of handing the violet blood her bowls. 

“Hawr-uh-lo-jee-um.” He says, slowly this time.

She nods with vigor and goes on to mouth the word Horologium to herself, going through the motions of learning a new difficult word.

He is momentarily taken back to a time when the name of his own sign was foreign to him. Five sweeps old when he learned what to call it, how to pronounce it. Thuein and Lopard were patient, but the pity they felt reigned in their eyes.

A human will learn how to say it better before she hits three sweeps.

Dwelling doesn’t last long, Koteus’s voice fills the room again and brings him back from his thoughts.

“Had I known you wanted to meet, I could have met you somewhere more convenient.” His voice is apologetic. “Middle of nowhere is a little out of the way, yeah?”

“I think I needed the trip.” He admits.

“Clear skies’ll cure a cluttered mind like nothing else.” The seadweller says as he lifts the young human off of the counter and sets her on her feet.  “Something on your mind?”

“I think so. If you have time.”

Koteus watches as Jessie quickly finds her way to the entrance of the kitchen and disappears further into the hive. He smiles.

“A spot just opened up.”

Despite his time in the fleet, Koteus’s scars are not physical ones. The only markings on his skin are the tattoos he received from the planet he was stationed on. But the scars on his heart, Zurven thinks, must be innumerable. Impossible to count. Heavy.

He leads Zurven to the table and they sit across from each other.

Koteus looks wiser than he would ever care to admit. Always said wisdom means you’re old.

“Lay it on me, little man.”

“You’ve uh. You’ve been through a lot, right?”

“Nothing I didn’t sign up for.” He sighs. “But yeah.”

“Doesn’t it weigh a ton? How do you–”

“Carry it all?” He interjects, voice soft.

Zurven nods slowly.

The soldier leans forward, causing the beads clinging to his dreads to knock against the table between them.

“Not all at once, and never on my own.” He whispers, and the safety of Benjins hoodie starts to feel more real.

The Magician

There is a market in the city, filled with fresh produce from the grounds of the House of Restoration and other goods ferried from parts of Alternia the typical city dweller would never find the time to visit.

Zurven stands among the produce, fighting hard to remember the instructions given to him by Achina on how to pick out the perfect avocado. He is fairly certain the one in his hand is hard enough to give someone a concussion.

“Nah, brother. You try ‘n eat somethin’ that unripe it’ll knock your teeth right outta your skull.”

Zurvens gaze drifts from the rock in his hand to the observer he must have been preventing from getting one of his own.

“Think ya’ gotta put it in a paper bag to make it ripe faster or somethin’. Unless you’re tryin’a--“

The purple blood stops cold as they lock eyes, the recognition on either side is instantaneous. The swirly face paint that starts at the tip of his nose and spirals outward takes Zurven back to a place he doesn’t want to be and he gives the avocado a harsh squeeze. Hard as a baseball, it does not yield to his attempted mutilation.

“Shit! Little fuckin’, Curly top? Zurven? Damn! You grown up, huh?” The clown sputters out clumsily, measuring Zurven up with his hand as he does.

“Didn’t see you none once the. Well, y’know.” He says as he mimes a hand over his left eye, mimicking the trauma Persep subjected his illusionist friend to. “And you’re all out and about and shit, huh?”

“It’s nice to see you too, Parcae.” Zurven mumbles, resisting the urge that threatens to pull his thoughts back to the past. “You’re always so peppy, despite everything. That’s a real wonder to me-- “

The brown blood is cut off by the magician as he scoops him up into his arms and crushes him close against his chest.

Zurven goes stiff.

“Nah, we ain’t talkin’ about me. We’re talking about you!” He does not seem to care that the display is causing his suit jacket to wrinkle. Not that that really comes as a surprise. “Been thinkin’ about you, brother. Always wanted to scoop y’up like that and let ya know how you were always stronger than you shoulda had to be and shit.”

He says nothing.

“Y’know? I’m thinkin’ you’re one a the strongest guys I ever met. I’m thinkin’ you could survive anything, brother.”

Like the avocado in his hand will in a few days, Zurven softens. He wraps his arms around Parcae and breathes out a shaky sight as his tears start to stain the collar of his dress shirt.

#long post #zurven #velrum #koteus #parcae #rav and jessie are here too but that's irrelevant #coko writes sometimes #hey guys hi HEY GUYS HI

[summerwritesfics]

🌎For As Long As You Rule

Pairing: Raiden/Kuai Liang Length: 991 Words Rating: Teen Warnings: Royalty AU, Prince!Raiden, Bodyguard!Kuai Liang, Fluff, Nervousness, Exclamations of undying loyalty, Kuai Liang: Raiden I will follow you to the ends of the Earth, Raiden: … Okay, Raiden is very new to the royalty thing and very flutersturd by his handsome bodyguard’s loyalty

Meanwhile In Another Universe Masterlist

Notes: Liu Kang: And Scorpion and Raiden are training together…

Me: Oh my god… they’re training together…

Hey, I can ship Kuai Liang with people who aren’t complete and utter bastards, how about that? :) I honestly don’t know how I should be tagging Kuai Liang on this site anymore (or Bi-Han for that matter), but I think how I’m gonna do it is for things that are specifically based off MK1 (like this fic, given Kuai is called Scorpion by Raiden in it) I’m gonna include both the Sub Zero and Scorpion tags on them, just so people know which timeline I’m drawing from.

Raiden gave a frustrated sigh. He just could not figure out how the pearls on this stupid headdress were supposed to fall. He was sure they were supposed to cascade down in layers but they kept getting tangled every time he tried to put it on. I need to get this right. In a few hours, he was due to make his first public appearance as a royal, he didn’t want to go out before his kingdom’s inhabitants and look like he had no idea what he was doing.

Granted, he genuinely didn’t know what he was doing, but he didn’t want anyone to know that.

There was a gentle knock on the door, before a voice called “Prince Raiden?”

“Come in Scorpion- Kuai Liang- Scop- Dammit-” he stumbled on his own words, wincing as the other man entered the room. “Sorry. What exactly would you prefer I call you?”

“Just Kuai Liang is fine, your majesty,” Kuai replied as he closed the door behind him. He had a trey in his hands with a teapot and a cup. “I thought you may enjoy some green tea to calm your nerves.”

“That’s… really appreciated. Thank you Kuai Liang.” Raiden took the headdress off his head, deciding he could deal with it later. Right now, he wanted tea. “And you don’t have to call me your majesty, just Raiden is fine.”

“My pleasure, your- ah. Raiden.” Kuai bowed slightly and put the tray of tea down. “I apologise, I should have realised this must be very strange for you, and done better to accommodate.”

“What? No, no, you’ve been fine.” He shook his head rapidly, feeling terrible that he’d made Kuai feel his efforts were in any way inadequate. “Believe me, you have been the only thing keeping me grounded this last week.” He sighed and looked at that stupid headdress again. “I mean, on Monday I was just some orphan farm kid named Raiden, and today I’m Lei Gong, missing Prince of Earthrealm.” His eyes flicked up to the mirror. The person looking back was him, but at this point he wasn’t sure if he was Raiden or Lei Gong. “It’s uh… been a bit to take in, if I’m being honest.”

“I understand, if it makes you feel better, I think you’ve handled everything extremely gracefully so far.” Kuai reached forward to the teapot, pouring the brown liquid out into the cup. Once done, he offered the cup to Raiden. “I doubt many people could handle such news.”

“I don’t know, I keep feeling like I’m doing everything wrong somehow,” he admitted, taking a sip of the tea. He blinked a few times. Wow, this is really good tea. As if being his voice of reason wasn’t enough, Kuai was also a wizard of the brewing arts, apparently. “Every time I open my mouth around the castle nobles, I feel like they’re judging me.”

Kuai clicked his tongue, “unfortunately, the nobles are…” He paused for a long time, eyes squinting like he was trying to think of a suitable word. Raiden didn’t push him, just sipped his tea and waited patiently. Kuai’s face finally dropped, seemingly admitting defeat with himself before deadpan stating “they’re snobs, Raiden.”

Raiden almost spat his tea out from laughter. Partially because it had taken Kuai so long to land on the word “snob”, and partially because of how matter of fact he’d been about it. I mean, he isn’t wrong, they do seem to be snobs. 

“Well, I’m glad that’s an opinion we share,” he replied with as cheeky a grin as he could manage. Triumph welled in his chest when Kuai gave him a wry smile in return. “Still, I need to figure out how to win them over soon, otherwise Lord Liu Kang’s plans for me to take the throne are going to fall flat before they even start.”

“I can help you with the nobles,” Kuai offered, “I may not be one myself, but I’ve been around enough of them to know how they speak.”

“In that case could you take a look at my speech for later?” Raiden asked, trying to not sound too desperate or feel like he was taking advantage of the offer. “I think it’s okay, but an extra pair of eyes would be appreciated.”

“I would be more than happy to.” Kuai gave a little bow as he spoke, before straightening up and placing a hand on Raiden’s bicep. Raiden tried to suppress the high pitched whine from the back of his throat. “Even if the nobles are not sure about you currently, I have no doubt they will come around. Even in this short time we have known each other, I can tell your heart is pure. For as long as you rule, I will follow you, Prince Raiden.”

Raiden’s mind was overloaded. He was certain his entire face had to be red at this point given how hot it felt, and tears welling in his eyes. On one hand, he was genuinely touched, that was one of the nicest things anyone had ever said to him. Kuai had such earnest belief in him, it made him want to do his best, even if it was just for him. On the other hand? His heart was racing and it was very hard to deny why it was doing that.

He was developing a crush on his new bodyguard.

He had no idea what to do with that realisation.

“Thank you,” he just about managed to croak out. If Kuai realised what was going on with him, he didn’t say anything. Raiden was thankful for that.

Silently, he reached across for the piece of paper he had written his speech on, and passed it to Kuai Liang. He took it without question, and began scanning the document. Raiden watched him, feeling nervous but excited for this new partnership between them.

I won’t let you down, Kuai Liang.

#mortal kombat #kuai liang #sub zero #scorpion #raiden #kuaiden #🌎meanwhile in another universe

[nostalgebraist]

Why do you think that impressive performance on benchmarks ≠ substantial real-world impact in AI? It definitely surprises me that the advances in AI over the last few years haven't really shaken up the economy in any meaningful way. Is it that high performance in controlled settings is different/easier than excellent performance in the real world? Does the technology take a long time to roll out? Are opportunities being missed by "the people in charge," or is something else going on?

Is it that high performance in controlled settings is different/easier than excellent performance in the real world?

This is some of it, yeah.

More importantly, there are things the benchmarks miss that are really important in the real world.

The benchmarks typically ask "how well does the system do on average?", or "what % of the time does the system get the right answer?"

But if you're running a business, and especially if you're building a consumer-facing product, you don't just care about averages. The system is going to fail sometimes, and some failures are a lot worse than others. Some kinds of failures could get you sued, for example.

Even if your ML components don't fail in a catastrophic way like that, they're black boxes, and their failures will be mysterious. This could make your product feel unpredictable/"flaky," producing a state of learned helplessness in some users and a bunch of frustrating tech support calls from the others. (Your tech support people won't have the answers because literally no one knows why the model does the things it does.)

In a business, you also want fine-grained control over what you get. You don't just want "output that (usually) makes sense" or "output that's (usually) factually correct." You want output that makes sense, and is factually correct, and is about the specific domain your business operates in, and says something on-brand and contextually appropriate about that domain, and uses your company's brand voice . . . and we simply can't get this level of control from today's generative models.

(See this post for more on that topic. Also the ACX stained glass post, where Scott gets DALLE-2 to draw all sorts of wonderful stuff that just happens not to be what he specifically asked for.)

For these reasons, I would expect there's...

more adoption of ML for classification/retrieval (like BERT in Google Search) than for content generation

more adoption of ML in areas that customers don't see, like business analytics

ML used to partially automate small and unusually rote/generic pieces of existing human workflows (think of Gmail Smart Compose), not used to do entire tasks

When ML actually adds value, it tends to be incremental and almost invisible. It looks like a slightly smarter autofill feature that you could still imagine being done with heuristics, or Google search getting subtly better at understanding queries (when it was already very good at this, and anyway the effect is drowned out by SEO rendering Google half-useless over the same time interval), or companies getting a bit more efficient at internal calculations you didn't know they were doing in the first place.

This might seem counterintuitive, given the "wow" effect one gets looking at the latest generative models. But the "wow" effect comes from trying to let the models stand on their own two feet, pretending to be human. And they do seem human! In the sense that they usually seem like some human being or other doing something in the general territory of what was asked for.

But there's a long way between "usually seeming like some human being or other doing something in the general territory of what was asked for," and reliably serving any function of real value to a business.

(I should add that the bleeding edge of ML is always very compute-intensive, and thus usually very expensive at the time of its release. That does change over time, unlike the trends above, which I expect to persist as long as the current ML paradigm does [though I realize I haven't defended that stronger claim here].)

#ai tag

[unluckyhoneybee]

The Handsome Artist. 3 (Daniel Ricciardo)

Mark your skin. Abigail finally gets her ivy.

MASTERLIST. Moodboards and Playlist

Previous part: Just checking.

Notes: things will start getting interesting, I promise. Finally, the tattoo chapter. We could say everything starts here.

Warning: mentions of needles.

I had been there for ten minutes. Molly said she would show up. But she didn't. I had my phone in hand and my foot was taping the floor. I was feeling something on my chest. Nerves? Anxiety?

I heard the door opening on my right and a deep voice laughing. With Daniel, a broad tall man, who look like the leader of a weird cult, was laughing hard with his arm covered in plastic. That was the big piece he had before me.

On Friday morning, he had already texted me.

Daniel Ricciardo: I have some free time for you on Tuesday. Does 17.50 fit?

It had brought a smile to my face. I wanted the tattoo already. I couldn't wait to see it.

Me: wow, so fast. It's perfect. Thanks xx.

And there I was. His eyes fell on me and he smiled.

"Give me a second, okay?"

You nodded with a shy smile.

"So you are going to see Daniel. Half naked?"

"That's why I need you there, Molls"

"I will go. But don't expect me to be there every time you get naked in front of a guy."

And she hadn't arrived yet. The nerves were getting bigger on my belly.

I saw how the weird man payed Daniel, how they chatted for a bit and talked about how the big man should take care of the tattoo.

"See you, mate. If you have any problem, you know where to find me!"

Daniel walked the man to the door and then locked it.

"You should have heard him whimper" He chuckled.

"It doesn't help" I whispered with a smile.

"Don't worry, Abi. I'll be careful"

Abi, Abi, Abi.

My heart was beating fast but I didn't even know why.

"Come with me."

I got up and followed him, texting Molly at the same time.

Me: you are the worst.

She was obsessed with Daniel. She wanted me to marry him and I was sure she had missed this on purpose.

Daniel closed the door when I came in and set the lock.

"Nobody will come uncalled." He gave me a smile. "Leave your stuff whenever you like, feel free".

I let my things next to the helmet in the table, which made me think. A motorbike. What kind? Was he one of those guys with fast bikes who passed you on the road? Or was he in one of those bands?

"Lady, sit here. Let's have a chat."

I sat where he told me and our knees touched.

"Are you nervous?" He said chuckling.

"Yeah" I smiled.

"Well, it's normal. Really. Just trust me. We can stop whenever you feel like."

I nodded. I was playing with my fingers.

Daniel showed me the drawing

"I'm gonna start with the lines. I will make the branch first and then the leaves. Only the shape of them. It will take a while and it's your first so... We will take it slow."

I swallowed.

"Then the color. It hurts less. I promise. It's a different kind of needle and the pain is not as intense. Same thing. We can stop. Also... If I finish the lines and you want to stop for today, it's okay too"

I bit my lip. Was he always like this? Had he told the big man the same thing?

"Tell me, are you still 100% sure?"

I laughed a bit and dried my palms on my trousers.

"Definitely. I'm excited"

"That's what I want to hear."

He patted my knee.

"Let's get to it then."

I bit my lip. What was I supposed to do?

He got up and walked around, grabbing stuff from drawers before sitting in front of me.

"Well, Abigail. Privacy is something we respect in Ham&Avo. This is for you. I can't work on this if you keep your bra on. But I don't want you to feel uncomfortable,okay? This things are like stickers, completely healthy and clean. Just for you to cover yourself with them."

"Oh" I had wonder how we would do it. He had the answer there. "That's nice."

He laughed a bit and passed me the two envelopes.

"Thank you... Um..." I looked around. I had seen a toilet signal outside, should I go there?

"Upstairs." He pointed at the stairs. "Just close the curtain and get changed in there."

"Okay."

I climbed the stairs slowly under his gaze and he gave thumbs up before I closed the curtain. It was a tiny room, it only had a chair and shelves with books and folders, all tattoo ralated. There was also a metallic door, closed with a lock and with a Private Area sign. I wonder what was behind.

"Lady?" He asked from downstairs.

"Yes?"

"Rock folk for today?"

"Perfect!"

I bit down a smile. It was nice to find someone with the same taste of music as me. Molly and I were opposite.

I took my shirt and bra off and looked at the tiny mirror hanging in a wall. I took a deep breath. It had been a while since someone saw me like this.

It will be fine. He is doing his job. He seems to be a nice guy. He only had good words about this. You heard him.

I put those things over my nipples, leaving them completely covered. My breast were still naked, though. And I still felt a bit insecure.

I walked down with my shirt over my chest. He was cleaning the chair and had set a little cart next to it. He had everything ready.

"I'm back"

He looked up and smile.

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah" I kind of lied my knees were shaking.

He moved around without getting up, pushing his stool with his feet. He took a paper and told me to get closer to him.

"I need you to uncover yourself, Abi"

I bit my lip.

"Yeah, obviously. Yeah."

He patiently waited for the long seconds it took me to decided.

Used to hungry and disgusting looks from men when I was in this state or similar, it hit hard when Daniel politely kept his eyes away from my chest.

"Come closer."

He had black gloves on and a bottle.

I wasn't ready for it. I almost pant when he pressed his hand on my skin. He was so careful and respectful. Really, it was unbelievable. His big hand moved around my breast with slow strokes.

"I'm cleaning the skin. It's important because the needle will open it. It would leave open wounds. The coolest, though. But it's important to clean it first."

"Okay..."

I put my hands behind my back and looked down. My bare chest was right in front the most attractive guy ever and I was on the verge of fainting.

"Abi..."

"Mhm"

"Don't be nervous" He laughed.

"Easy to say"

"You will love it. It's addictive"

He turned around and grabbed another bottle before putting the content on his fingers.

"This will help with the drawing. To plaster it in your skin."

I nodded.

He put the cold cream on me and massaged it softly.

"Good?" He asked looking up at me. Fuck...

I nodded with a smile and he turned again, taking the drawing.

"Okay. Ready? Let's see how this beauty looks on you."

"I'm ready"

The pressed the paper on my skin and made sure it was perfectly positioned. I stopped breathing when he gently pulled the paper.

"Fuck, yes. It's beautiful, Abigail" He gasped put of breath. "Turn around"

With his big hands on my hips, he made me turn and check myself on the mirror. I looked at my chest. He was right. The leaves curled around my breast and it was perfect.

"What do you say?" He said peeking from behind me. His warm hands were still on my hips and somehow they felt perfect on me.

"You are so talented, Daniel."

"Just wait and see the real thing" He gave me a cheeky smile that made me blush.

Soon I was laying on the chair, completely reclined. It was more like a bed now. He was on my side, my arm was weirdly hanging on one side, trapped between his chest and the leather. I was looking at the ceiling because he was way to close to look at him now and I was to nervous.

"Okay. Let's make a line and see how you feel"

The buzzing sound filled the room.

"3..2...1..."

I felt the needle on my skin and the vibrations on my ribcage. It burned.

"Fuck"

"Too bad?"

I shook my head.

"It's fine. I can take it"

"Brave girl. Just tell me if you need to stop"

"Understood"

I tried to get my mind of the feeling. I tried to pay more attention to his fingers than the needle. He was softly humming alongside some Mumford and Sons song.

"You have good skin"

I laughed a bit, trying to not move too much.

"That's weird"

He laughed too.

"Yeah, you are right. You just make the job easy." He said shooting a quick glance to my face.

"I'm glad"

Minutes passed and I was so deep in my thoughts that I didn't hear him.

"I've done the circle. Let's get with the leaves."

I bit my lip. It was going fast.

"How would you describe the pain?"

"A scratch. A very deep one. Like when -ah" I closed my eyes and bit my lips. Suddenly, something had hurt more than before. "Fuck, that hurted" I whispered.

"Sorry. The angle I suppose. There is bone here" He gently tapped my ribs and when I looked down at him he was blushing. Cute.

"It's okay. I was caught off guard"

"Ready?"

"Go on"

He kept tattooing and humming with the music. He was so close I could see. The freckles on his nose, the softness of his curls, the bridge of his nose... He was beautiful.

"I can't do my job if you look at me like that, Abi"

I blushed and looked away, mh heart pounding on my chest. I was like a little girl.

"Relax..." He stroked my arm with his hand and then cleaned the ink from the tattoo.

"Yeah, sorry"

It tried to stay still, to not look at him and make him uncomfortable. He was just doing his job after all.

"You are behaving well. I like you, you are a good client" He muttered.

I was only able to nod, his words having a bigger effect than they should.

Time went by, the pain became a dull soreness, as if the skin had gone numb.

"How are you feeling?" He asked.

"I'm good."

"You wanna stay here a bit more so I can add color?"

I bit my lip and nodded. His eyes darted to my mouth for a second before he looked away.

Danny POV.

Unfair. That's what it was. She had those brown eyes, big brown eyes. Her nose was straight and she had those perfect lips. Then she bit them and I almost scream.

Her body was warm under may hands, her skin was so perfect. Not only for working. She had little marks here and there, moles everywhere... It was the most difficult job I had done, not for the tattoo itself, but for Abigail, calm and breathing slowly, biting his finger once in a while. She was behaving perfectly, of course. But she was giving me those eyes. She was there half naked in my studio, being all cute and beautiful.

I looked at the work in front of me. The leaves curled perfectly and followed the curve of her breast. It looked really good on her. Just perfect.

"Okay... Last leaf."

She muttered a yes. She was nervous. I had caught her staring and I had to force myself to not react. To not lean and press my mouth on hers.

I made it carefully, not wanting to fuck up now. Not that I used to.

"Okay, Abi. I'm done with this. Do you trust me or want to check it before?"

"It's not like if your erase it if there was something wrong" She whispered half laughing.

Even her laugh was beautiful.

"Well, you are right. So... Let's get to it"

She was looking at the ceiling when I pressed the needle with the green ink. I felt her twich a bit and her hand fell to my shoulder.

Abigail POV.

I grabbed his shoulder hard.

"You said it hurts less"

"It usually does." He said stoping. "Is it really bad?"

I looked at him. It had been a bit worst. But I could take it, right?

"I-I think I can do it"

"Of course you do, you are doing well" Those praising words, accompanied by a little touch on my belly, mande my heart miss a beat.

He resumed his work and I tried to not flinch. It turns out that it took you longer with this. I saw him working with colors, checking the drawing and different images. At some point, he was so close, his whole forearm was on me. He felt warm and and let me grab his shoulder.

"You are doing so well. We are almost there... Last touches."

I closed my eyes. Yep, Jennifer needs to know about this.

Therapy was a way to recover from the last few years. Jennifer was helping me to be the old Abigail, or a new one. But a different Abigail than the one Arnie created. I didn't want to be scared anymore. I wanted to take my own decision, to do things I could have never imagined. So that's why I was here. I was getting a tattoo with the most handsome tattoo artist ever. He was making me dizzy and I didn't know if I was ready for all of this.

"Abi?"

I looked at him.

"I said we are done" He was trying to not laugh, his lips were pressed in a thin line. "Where were you, lady?"

I chuckled. "Not thinking about the pain"

"Oh honey, nothing of that. You did so good." He patted my tummy and leaned back on the chair. "Get up and check it"

I sat and looked down gasping when I saw what he had done.

"Oh God, Daniel."

"Let me help you"

I tried to ignore the fact that he had a hand on my waist to help me.

I was in front of the mirror, he was behind me and I was completely stunned. He had made it perfectly. Daniel Ricciardo was a fantastic tattoo artist.

"Oh Daniel, I love it"

He laughed. He was so happy he laughed and his smile was like the sun.

"I do like it a lot too. Thank you for choosing me"

"It wasn't me, it was Molly"

"Thank her for me please"

I laughed a bit and looked back at the tattoo.

"It's perfect."

"You were brave. I know it's painful. You did it well"

"You made it easy" I whispered and looked at him through the mirror.

"Let me clean it" He said with a tiny smile.

Like before, he sat on the stool and made me stand in front of him. He was even more careful than before. He put cream and cleaned it before talking a picture.

"With your permission, I will post it on Instagram"

"Okay" I smiled. He was proud of his work and it showed. So why would I take that from him.

"Let me cover and I will let you get dressed."

He covered it with plastic and was as careful as before. I was so surprised of his work, of the respect and how in any moment he made me felt like a piece of meat or something. Not even the doctor had treated me this well.

"Fine. I'll let you get dressed."

Soon I was behind the curtain, taking deep breath I got dressed. I had gotten a tattoo. And wow. What a experience.

When I came down, the door was opened and I heard Daniel outside. He was talking to Lewis in whispers.

"Oh, hey." Lewis saw me. "Daniel showed me. It's beautiful. Congratulations".

I smiled and walked to them.

"I did nothing. I just waited there"

"Abi, the guy before you almost cried." Daniel touched my shoulder.

"I'll let you guys"

Lweis went back to the studio and Daniel leaned on the counter.

"Well, miss Abi" He claped his hands. "It has been a pleasure to work for you. Really. I love the tattoo, you made it easy, you worked with me... So... For real and from the bottom of my heart. Ham&Avo's door will always be opened for you. I hope you come and let me mark your skin again."

I blushed at his little speach, walking a bit closer.

"Wow. Thank you, really. I was really comfortable the whole time. Painful but not as much as I thought. And really. You are amazing. It's beautiful."

He smiled and pulled a lollipop from a drawer.

"Wash the tattoo three times a day and... This cream. Please, no sun, no beach, no pool. Not until it's healed. Count a couple of weeks. Maybe three. Anything, any doubt, just come by or text."

He wave me the cream and the lollipop.

"Well... Now. The funny part." He laughed a bit and I rolled my eyes. "150 for you"

"For me? Tell me what it really is"

"200, but I won't take more than one fifty, lady."

"Daniel..." He couldn't do this, he didn't know me.

"No. I don't want to hear anything about it"

I sighed and looked at him. He was giving me his best puppy eyes.

"Okay..."

I paid him and he walked me to the door.

"Enjoy your new piece. You look beautiful on it"

"Thank you, really"

And for the third time, I left the parlor with a big smile on my face. He was different. A bit of a cliché, but I hadn't met anyone like him.

It was when I was cleaning the tattoo that night when Molly texted me.

Molly: someone was happy to work today.

A link to Instagram came with the message. I opened it.

@.ham&avotattoo: our last piece today, beautiful Argelian ivy for a woman of herself. Thank you for the patience, three appointments and two hours of laying in the studio. Enjoy it as much as Ric enjoyed working on it.

↪️@.mollyalberts: amazing, you are welcome Ric. I convinced her.

↪️@.hopper_abigail: thank you guys, Daniel is an amazing artist.

And third part done!! Hope you liked it!! All the love is appreciated, don't be shy and tell me what you think about this fic!

Also, all the pics are taken from pinterest, you can find them on the mood board.

Next part: Deep thinking.

#daniel ricciardo #Dr #Fluff #F1 #Fic #tattooartist!au