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luveline · 2 years

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𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐬 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary eddie gets very, very good at fucking you the way you like it [5.1k]

warnings smut, 18+ please no minors, fem!reader, p in v sex, oral both receiving, praise kink, best friend!eddie, best friends with benefits, eddie pining for r, mutual pining, giggly sex, a part 2 to this but u dont have to read it lol

𓆩❤︎𓆪

"Bye, kids!" Eddie's uncle calls, swiftly followed by the sound of the door shutting. The night shift begins.

You shout, "Bye, Mr. Munson!"

Eddie can see from the way your back is a little straighter that you're waiting to see if he's making a move tonight. The brilliant thing about being your friend is that Eddie's content to spend time with you doing anything, not just fucking – a newer extension of your friendship, a good one – but still. Two young adults, a lot of hormones, and a natural chemistry? It's kind of hard to resist it anytime you're alone.

You sit further down the bed, the sheets pulled over your legs. The summer heat has finally broken into a cooling fall. Almost two months of lazy, hot sex later and Eddie's working out everything that you like. One example, you like to be dragged around. Never cruel, but dragged the same, Eddie hooks his hands under your arms without saying anything and pulls you into the space between his legs, your back to his chest.

"C'mere," he says, like he hasn't manhandled you exactly where he wants you to be.

You drop your head back onto his shoulder and it's like an electric shock, your easy smile, your wide eyes. "All of ten seconds. You don't have much patience."

"I'll show you patience," he says, quick to dive into the juncture of your neck.

He doesn't bother with chaste kisses, lips parted and teeth scratching against delicate skin as he mouths into the spot he knows you like most. You hiss, "Fuck, Eddie," almost scolding to his everlasting amusement, grabbing for his hands where they've stayed wrapped around your abdomen.

"You want to?" he asks between scraping kisses.

Your hand tightens around his as he starts to suck, intending on marking you up, something pretty to look at while he fucks you later, he reasons. Anything to not be staring at your mouth.

You make a breathless gasping sound that has his jeans tightening fast, neck arching to the side to give him better access. He's taking this as a soft yes, though he'll ask again when he's not winding you up. He bites down and you squeal, the beginnings of a bruise under his teeth.

His lips are wet when he pulls away, a pop and release of your abused skin. You shudder, a big exhale of breath as you press further into his back, head to your shoulder to stop him from giving you another.

He brushes his hands up your abdomen and stops at your ribs, worrying he might've gone too far too fast. He's about to ask when you start giggling, sick little sounds that have him craving your mouth, wondering what they taste like.

"What's funny?" he asks.

"Your hair's tickling me."

You turn in his arms and stretch, leaning out of the circle of his hold for the bedside table. He makes sure you don't tumble out of his bed as you search past things that might've embarrassed him before, condoms, a new tube of lube; the old one long gone. Your fingers snag on a hair tie and you take it, quick to stretch it around your fingers and stand up on your knees.

He holds your hips amicably as you smooth the hair from his face, hands characteristically tender, gentle as you pull his hair into a ponytail behind his head. Almost a tradition at this point for his hair to be out of his face, this is the first time you've done it for him. He's transfixed by your face, your eyes and their lashes, your mouth and the pink of your tongue as your lips part mindlessly, your nose. He can't help but think of your nose, how it would slide against his if he leaned in.

You tuck small strands behind his ears and grin. "There," you begin, something playful in your voice, something so sweet and smooth it makes his cock twitch and his chest ache. "Now I can…"

Your words fade away as you move for his neck, slower and softer than he'd been to yours, the pillow of your lips sliding down the column of his throat. You drop pecks like stars into his skin and every one of them burns, stopping only at his Adam's apple to kiss it twice, both he tricks himself into thinking are unbearably fond – the slowness of them, the double kiss, like one couldn't be enough.

His arms cross over your back, holding you close as he can as your teeth skip over his collar bone. You kiss the well, lips joining over his skin, damp and squishy and soft. He blinks rapidly and turns his gaze to the ceiling light in efforts to stave off any evil thoughts besides fucking you dumb. You must take it for an invitation, moving back to his neck. Your lips work and your tongue licks a stripe, closing around the very underside of his jaw, too close to his ear. He moans at your loving, the barest hint of your teeth against a hot spot he didn't know he had until you found it.

Your hands flex over his shoulders, moving like the flow of the tide. They climb over the hills of his trap muscles and fold around the back of his neck, and he decides he's gonna make you cry tonight if it's the last thing he does.

"Nice sounds, pretty boy," you murmur, "does it feel good?"

Yeah, he's definitely gonna make you cry. Half melted by your attention and half insane he laughs, a dark chuckle that has your hands stilling where they tease. He pushes you away nicely considering his mood and you fall on your back, legs moving from their folded position to hiked up. You stretch one slightly downward and the other comes in coquettishly, your kneecap rubbing against your thigh, moving them first left and then right.

"It's like I'm in a fucking porno," he says to himself, swallowing, worse when you smirk at him.

Your legs drift open, a split second where he can make out the bump of your cunt in your tight pants. He needs to be touching you, like, yesterday.

You hold your hands out as he climbs on top of you, taking his waist into your grip as he grabs your upper arm in one hand and your neck in the other, dipping down to kiss you and then remembering he can't. You don't seem to mind his position, taking it as an opportunity to talk with him face to face.

"Eddie," you say, his name like dripping silver off of your tongue, "my neck's burning. What are you, a vampire?"

"I might be," he says, looking away from your amused eyes to the mark he's made at the side of your throat.

"I have parents, you know? Who aren't blind?"

"Quit complaining," he says, lifting his weight off of you so he can slot a hand between your bodies, rubbing it into the dough of your thigh.

He looks to your face for permission and you nod, dazed, and so Eddie doesn't kiss you but he gets the next best thing as he cups your cunt with his palm. He spreads his fingers wide and searches for your clit, the fabric much too thick for any real teasing. Still, he must graze it, your breath jumping.

"There you are," he murmurs.

You're holding your breath as he unbuttons your jeans and pulls down the zippers, hand snaking underneath denim to find not a lot of fabric covering your centre.

His eyes flinch up. "Fuck, are you wearing a thong?"

"No!" you rush to say, and then stammer, "I mean- kind of? Uh. Not completely a thong."

He climbs off of you, breathing hard and hiding it as he says, "Alright, take the jeans off. Now. Right now."

You roll your eyes and lift your hips, kicking out of your jeans with a huff. "Slow your roll," you admonish as he whips them off of your ankles.

And fuck, don't you look pretty? Your simple white tennis socks and your baby blue vest top, the silhouette of your pretty chest and how it moves, the stretch of your naked legs and your thighs, thighs he's spent hours now messing with, kissing and marking up. None of it drives him as crazy as your cunt, your pretty pussy, hardly covered by these new cut black panties. They're not quite a thong but not far from it and Eddie can't decide whether he wants to rip them off or ask you to wear them forever. He tries to take a mental photo of you like this, something for the spank bank, immortalising your shy smile as you hike up on your elbows.

"They're not too slutty, right?" you ask.

"They're slutty," he disagrees happily, grinning as he pulls your calves and then your thighs over his lap. "They're cute."

"Cute," you repeat.

"I can touch you, right?" he asks.

You spread your legs wider over his lap and his cock aches as you say, "Please, Eddie."

He brushes his thumb into your clit, pulling your doughy skin in big circles. You exhale at the sudden pleasure, your legs tightening at his waist, one knee turning in. He keeps a hand on your legs and spreads you wider, pleased when you bring your hand to your chest and start toying with your pebbled nipples.

"Oh, you're hot as fuck," he says, laughing. You beam at his praise and he aims to keep it, furthering, "You're so pretty. Look at you."

"Are you talking to me or my…"

"Your pussy?" he asks. "Say the word, Y/N, it won't bite you."

"My pussy," you say, the word foreign and fucking world-ruining on your lips.

He asked for it, he knows, and he'll deal with the consequences, even if the consequences are creaming in his pants.

"I'm talking to you," he says, hands slipping under your thighs. He bends as he talks, "You're so fucking pretty," he says, lifting your hips to his mouth, his lips brushing up against that small slip of fabric that doesn't even cover you up properly, head racing with expletives. "But your pussy is just as cute."

He kisses you through fabric. He kisses you like a man possessed, a man starved, an open mouthed search for the bead of your clit. He kisses around it, pulling fabric and skin into his mouth.

You hold yourself up with your hands, panting as he gets messy. He moves away from your slit and laps at your skin, kissing and licking the space between your thigh and your cunt, your creases, downwards. He nudges the not-quite-thong aside with his nose and pulls back to take you in.

There, that clear slick, a tiny rivulet at your entrance. "Your hole's already crying to see me," he says, knowing it will embarrass you.

You squeal and stop holding your weight. You fall for a second and he chuckles as he lifts you straight back up, arms more than prepared for the weight of your hips. "Take more than that for me to drop you," he chastens.

You huff a breath out the side of your mouth. "You're teasing."

"I am," he agrees cheerily. "Thought that was what you liked, babe."

You wiggle in his hold. "Please," you murmur, your anticipation showing itself.

He swears he can see the throb of your clit, how it looks almost swollen already as he takes it into his mouth.

He rolls his tongue around your clit, laps down, looking for that well of wetness and finding it. He licks around your entrance, your little hole tight and contracting at his intrusion before he eats back upward, face pushed ardent and unashamed into your pussy.

He plays with your labia, taking the folds between his teeth and tugging. More squealing, your reach for his face and can't quite get there, a sound of protest escaping you as he does it again. He licks over them in apology and moves back to your clit, sick of teasing, wanting to bring you to your climax suddenly and intensely. He wants to see your face, the way your eyes slam shut and crinkle, the uptilt to your eyebrows like you might cry. He suckles your clit, kissing and kissing and kissing until your thighs are shaking in his hands.

"Ah, there, right there, Eds," you pant, your eyes half-lidded, lashes twitching.

He lowers your hips slightly and your clit drops from his mouth with a lewd pop. "Where, sweetheart?"

"You just-" you pout at him, hips rolling, "Eddie, please, please, I wanna cum."

Again, he can't tease. He wants you to cum, needs you to, feels like an addict as he squeezes your thighs in his hand, fat moulding under his fingers as he moves back in to toy circles around your clit. He wants desperately to open you up and save this wetness from dripping down his shirt, wasted, so he pushes your hips back and follows, your ass pushing into the bed. He spreads you wide open and taps under your knee until you get the message to hold it, pussy glistening and open as he rubs your entrance teasingly, fingers working inside slowly, an exploration.

"Fucking soaking," he mumbles into your clit. You whine at the vibrations. He smirks. "Pretty pussy sopping wet, ruining the sheets, look at what you've done to my face," he says, though he doesn't pull away to let you look. "I'll clean you up, babe, don't worry."

Your hand bumps into his forehead and he's expecting a mean hair pull as you approach your high. Your breathing is hard and wound up, coloured by your voice like breathless moans, your tummy and chest heaving as he scissors his fingers against your gummy walls. But you don't pull his hair as you cum, far from it, you seize up and make a pathetic whimpering sound that tugs his heart, your fingers slipping into his hair. You hold him carefully to your cunt and he sucks until you’re half-sobbing, eyes closed and brows pinched and everything he wanted to see, one of your feet kicking out when he doesn't stop.

You don't ask him to, petting his face almost pleadingly, your thumb brushing against his eyebrow as he licks all over your sensitive clit and your hole and down to your seeping slick.

You make a sudden sharp sound and he knows to stop before you've even said his name.

"You're good. I got you, I'm done," he says comfortingly, nipping at your thigh. "You came pretty hard then, huh?"

You cover your overstimmed cunt with a lovely hand and smile at him weakly. "You didn't stop."

"I didn't think you wanted me to."

"I didn't," you say, dropping your head into the bed with a tired sounding sigh. "Oh, god, I’m melting. Can we open the window?"

He springs up and pushes open the window. You beckon him back towards you as you sit up, legs to one side of you as you reach out.

He enters your reach. He's expecting – anticipating, begging for – you to touch his cock, palm the throbbing length with your hands that he likes so much, but you don't. Your hands slide over his hips and you hug him where he's standing, fingers lacing at the small of his back, the side of your face pressed into his tummy, which feels heavy with lust.

Your face this close to his cock drives him crazy. Your hug hurts his heart. You rub your nose into his shirt. "You're the best at head, I swear. Y'always get me badly," you say. You look up at him. "Well, second best."

He can't help it. He kisses your square on the forehead. "Second," he agrees, hand on the side of your face. "Wanna show me who's best?"

You stare into his eyes for a second, looking shell shocked. He chalks it up to post-orgasm fog and forgets all about it when you grin.

"I'm gonna rock your world," you promise, hand needling for his dick.

Eddie's eager, whatever, pulling down his trousers just enough for the head of his hard cock to slip out. You take it into your hands. He doesn't watch as you work your hand down to his base, too busy tugging off his shirt, and so isn't expecting it when you pull his boxers down under his cock and take his balls into your mouth, just once.

He groans. "Fuck, babe. Do that again?"

"Shush, you're disrupting the process," you say, spitting into your hand. Despite your words you take his balls into your mouth again, sucking and kissing carefully as you tug at his cock with your spit wet hand.

His head tips back, overcome with the wave of white hot pleasure. You kiss up his shaft, lips parting wet and warm over the underside, his cock shining with your spit. You guide the tip gently to your lips and kiss it gently.

"You have a pretty dick," you tell him, almost conversational. He laughs and rests his hand atop your head, pulling it back to see your cute face as you say it.

"Yeah?" he asks indulgently.

"So pretty," you say, opening your mouth. You slide the tip against your tongue and pull back. "Too big, though."

He bursts into laughter, eyes squinting with humour. "You're such a charmer. Shut the fuck up."

"Shut me up," you tell him, opening your mouth wide. He stares at you. "Go on," you encourage.

You open your mouth, jaw lowered. He guides his cock over your tongue and watches as you take it, your lips wrapped around him, careful not to slide against your teeth. You’ve got one hand braced against his thigh, the other bunched in the fabric of his half pulled down jeans.

You take him carefully, good at head but not as confident as you claim. Eddie thinks even if you weren't a diamond he'd still cum, too enamoured with your eyes looking up at him and your chin covered in spit as you pull away. You’re panting, bobbing on and off of his shaft happily, hand pumping over the base you can’t quite reach.

Eddie guides you slowly, hands in your hair and pulling. He tries to take you back and you endeavour forward, his cock brushing the back of your mouth, that line of resistance before your throat.

You gag and the feeling of it makes his vision white out for a millisecond before you’re pulling away, giggling and gasping for air. "Whoops, sorry."

"Sorry?" He makes a derisive sound. "Please, I'm fucking begging you to do that again."

You establish a quicker rhythm, lapping at his cock and moving down, gagging and recovering, gagging again. You take as much of him as you can and then fall back, a line of your spit branching from wet lips to his reddened tip.

He wipes it away with his thumb, cock throbbing in your hand as you stroke his length and catch your breath.

Your eyelashes wet with tears, you gaze up at him imploring. "You wanna cum in my mouth?"

"Obviously," he says. Stupid question. "But I wanna be inside you more. You ready?" he asks.

"Someone made sure of that.” You kiss the tip of his cock and scramble into a sitting position. "Can we do it like last time, please?"

Again with 'please'. He'd give you anything you asked for.

Eddie slips on a condom with practiced technique and gets into the position you want, sitting with the pillows behind his back against the headboard, thighs spread wide and waiting for you. You take off your ruined underwear and kneel over his thighs. He hooks your ankles, helping you get as comfortable as you can be with the head of his cock brushing against the mess of your cunt.

"Ready to ride?" he asks, beaming.

Your hands move up his chest and grab hold of his shoulders as you lift your hips, waiting for him. He takes his cock into your hands and presses it to your hole, heart loud in his ears as you sink down onto it. The look on your face as you go, that shiver you get as he splits you open, Eddie could fill you up now if you asked him to.

You're more than warm as you slip onto his cock, heat quickly enveloping him. You can never take him to the hilt at first, slowly rocking against him. He holds you tight to his chest and hisses, wanting to keep you as at ease as possible during the stretch.

"Fuck, Eddie," you whisper, sounding emotional. "You're so big, oh my god."

"'Cos you're so fucking tight, babe. You sure you're ready?" he says into your neck.

"I am," you promise, sliding down further. You make your pretty noise and he knows he's close to filling you up entirely, kissing your neck gratefully as you moan.

"Eddie?" you ask.

"What?"

"Can you…" you shudder as you slide back down, his cock throbbing red hot as it drags against your walls, "Can you…"

"What? Anything you want babe, just tell me."

You duck your face into his neck and your hands search for his, pulling them down from your hips and onto your ass. He grins like a fool and grabs at you, spreading your cunt wide around his cock.

"Help me?" you ask.

Eddie hums. "You got it. Wrap your arms around me, yeah? That's a good girl." He's mostly joking.

As soon as he says it he's worried you won't like it. You do, blatantly, sucking in a ragged breath as he bottoms out. "You like that?" he asks hotly, smug. "You wanna be my good girl? Y/N, I never would've guessed."

"Liar," you say into his neck, whimpering as he pulls your cunt off of his cock, hips bumping as he thrusts back up into you.

"You're predictable," he concedes. "Now be a good girl for me and make some of those sick sounds you make, yeah?"

He's ridiculously smug and it shows in his tone, a deep, mocking drawl.

His hands squeeze your flesh as he thrusts into you, drunk on the feeling of your opening as it stretches around him and the curl of his climax building in his abdomen. You huff and pant and whimper as he fucks you, calves working to bounce over him. Already a wetness is pooling at the base of his cock and the slapping sounds of your riding echoes through the room.

"Hear how wet you sound?" he asks.

"Uh-huh," you say mindlessly. He feels sorry for how out of breath you are, bringing one hand up to the small of your back, hugging you close.

"Making a mess after I cleaned you up, huh? So ungrateful," he jokes.

"It's your fault," you murmur into his neck, arms flexing around him, squeezing him close.

He rubs your back. "Yeah, it is."

You laugh again and your walls tighten around him. He grabs you to fuck into that extra tightness, pushing you down onto his cock whilst he ruts up into you, his own breathing laboured.

True to what he asked, you're making sounds, heart-aching whimpers and mewling. He gets rougher in response, fucking up into your heat with an impressive speed. He knows he can get you all teary eyed if you're wet and relaxed enough to hit the sweet spot, and that first orgasm seems to have done the trick; your breathing is shuttering, your eyelashes tickling his neck, and you start to get beggy as he pistons against the deepest part of you.

"Eddie, Eddie please," you say, every thrust sending shocks down his cock and into his hips.

"What do you want?" he asks, holding off the 'honey' that so desperately wants to come out with it.

"Feels so good," you murmur, lips wet on his neck. You kiss his sweaty skin slovenly.

He pulls you back by the neck to look at your face, leaving you deep seated on his cock, squirming for friction. Your eyes were glassy, lashes heavy with tears.

"You're okay?" he checks.

You nod vehemently and lift up on your knees, dropping back down with a smile. He groans, hands on your hips as you take control and roll your hips around him in wide circles.

You're pretty like this, fucked out with your brows furrowed in concentration, pleasure loosening your hands and your lips as you swear to yourself, every stretch of your cunt around his cock summoning a wave of shuddering.

Wound up, he wants your second orgasm. He reaches between your bodies to push his fingertips to your slick clit, fighting to find purchase. He rubs tight tiny circles into the sensitive bud and you follow his rhythm.

"Yeah, you got it, keep grinding down on me," he encourages, leaning back to watch your face clouding up with pleasure. "You got it, babe."

You eat up his praise and his touch, thighs clenching around him in a tell tale sign. He snaps his hips up quicker until you gasp and hold your breath, chin falling into your chest as your walls tighten on his cock and you cum again.

The second is always harder on you. He stops thrusting and lets you catch your breath. You grind down into him slowly, scrunched eyes fluttering open as Eddie takes your face into his hand, his cock feeling every brush and contraction as you come down, the urge to kiss your pouting mouth reaching an all time high. You save him by dropping your hands from his neck and reaching for the hem of your thin shirt, pulling it off and exposing your chest.

"My girls!" he cooes happily.

You roll your eyes, breath finally coming in strong. "I feel like I'm burning up," you say, hand careful against his ribs.

Eddie loves these little pauses, slow and lazy and outside of time as he grinds his hips up, cock probing. "You're hot," he says agreeably.

"You're hotter."

He brushes your cheek with his thumb, pulling your lips up into a lopsided smile until you smack his hand away.

"Lemme get you on your back," he says.

You fall back and he's fast behind you, groaning doubly loud when his cock slips back into your sopping heat. He's determined to draw it all out of you, hand braced over your neck as he pushes back in. "Tell me if I get too rough."

You nod and Eddie takes you in as he fucks you silly, your damp face and the marks smattering your neck, your clammy chest and the way your boobs move as he thrusts into you.

"Don't stop, okay?" you tell him, bringing your hands to his face.

And he doesn't, fucking into you enthused by your touch and your face pinched in pleasure, your weak moaning and your keening cries when he pushes your hips into the mattress. It doesn't take much more than that before he's cumming, cock searching up into you until he's groaning loud and hot, dropping his face into your neck.

There's a familiar post sex quiet then, your hand rubbing over his naked back, bumping down the ridge of his shoulder blades and into the dip of his back. You trail your fingertips gently over the wall of silver stretch marks near his coccyx.

He inhales your smells. Sex and sweat and shampoo, the last remnants of the mornings perfume.

His cock softens inside you. He pulls out though he doesn't want to move, quickly missing your embrace as he ties off the condom and wipes himself down with his discarded shirt. You wrinkle your nose but let him do the same to you, and he's extremely cautious as he wipes over your entrance, hole still gaping just slightly, your cum and slick slipping out. He dips his fingers inside you and gives your clit a little rub, giggling boyishly when you throw your arm over your eyes and angle your hips away from him.

"In a minute, Eds."

"I'm just teasing, baby. You take as long as you want. Or we could go watch that Stones tape Nick gave me."

"Oh, he finally gave it to you?" you ask, raising your arm just enough to look at him.

"Yeah."

You grin in excitement and get up off of his bed, leaving behind a small wet puddle of mess and a smell he, perhaps grossly, doesn't want to wash out.

He watches your legs shake as you kneel down, searching for something to wear now that's he's ruined your underwear. He stands up fast and pulls up his jeans, zipping them with one hand as the other pats your shoulder. "Sit down, I'll find you something to wear."

"I can do it."

"I can see your legs shaking, babe. Fucked you good, huh?"

"You're so smug, it's disgusting."

"You like disgusting," he says. You don't say anything, but he suspects he'd find your skin warm with a hot flush if he went looking.

You sit at the end of his bed and he throws clean clothes at you, picking through for a shirt he can put on over his clammy chest.

"Eddie," you say.

He's still searching. "Yeah?"

You don't answer for a moment and he hardly notices, wondering if maybe he might not have any shirts clean after all when your arms snake around his chest. You lean your face into his back, your hands tentative where they press into his tummy

He tries to look at you over his shoulder. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," you rush to say. "Nothing."

He covers your hands with his, thinking. You nestle your face into his skin. He squeezes your fingers.

He doesn't let you hug him like that for too long, pulling your hands away. You look crestfallen for the few seconds it takes him to say, "Hey, come on. We'll make microwave burritos or something and watch that tape." Then, though he'd thought it was obvious, "We can cuddle."

"Sorry," you say quickly.

"No, don't be. I just fucked your brains out, least I can do is rub your back for a bit."

You press your lips together in a failed attempt to hide a smile. He turns away to find a shirt, the image of your guilty-happy face burned into his mind.

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#eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader smut #stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic

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sweetestdesire · 2 days

Text

SO DAMN NEEDY

WARNINGS: absolutely none. Just some pure, sweet content.

PAIRING(S): Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: in which Quinn Hughes is a surprisingly needy boyfriend.

Arms tightened their hold on Y/N as Quinn groaned, burying his head into her chest. Sighing, she glanced at the clock, trying her best to wriggle out of his grip as he fell into slumber once more, but his arms locked her in place again. Mornings with Quinn always tended to be unproductive, he wasn’t one to give in once he decided on something and most mornings, he decided she’d stay in bed with him for as long as his heart was content.

"Quinn.” Y/N sighed, prodding at his shoulder. He pretended not to hear her, the little shit. She could feel the tiny smile on his lips against her chest. "Quinn, let go."

"No." He mumbled. "Don’t wanna." It was an everlasting effort to try not to roll her eyes at her boyfriend, he made the task harder than most. Pinching his arm, she glared at him when he jolted a little, staring at her in shock.

“Quinn, please.” Y/N sighed tiredly, but Quinn could hear the smile in her voice. He could even feel it as her lips pressed against his forehead in a gentle kiss, but he didn’t let the soft touch of her lips bribe him into letting go, however. Instead, he was shifting more weight to press onto her as his face hid in the crook of her neck, pulling an exasperated groan out of her as she glared down at him.

“No.” He mumbled, latching onto her body tighter. “Stay.”

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.”

“I need to get up.” Y/N huffed. “I’ll be late for work again.”

“Then be late. Just tell them you had important things to do.”

“Cuddling in the morning isn’t important, Quinn.”

“That’s rude.” Quinn interrupted, pouting into her neck as his hands squeezed her hips. “It’s important to me.”

Y/N couldn’t help but roll her eyes, and couldn’t help but purse her lips as she looked down at the mess of hair under her chin as Quinn tucked himself into her. It was a losing battle every morning, a constant back and forth that she knew she was powerless to win. At first, Quinn seemed like a distant guy. He seemed like someone she’d get lucky to even hold hands with, someone who kept his space and maintained his composure. At least, that’s what she used to think.

It didn’t take long after dating to realize he was quite the opposite. That he was clingy in the mornings, that he needed far too many kisses throughout the day to be normal, that he followed her around the house like a lost puppy, that he couldn’t sleep without her playing with his hair at night. It was funny at first, it was cute and made her just a little giddy that he was as needy as he was around her, but sometimes, like right now for example, it was just a little inconvenient too.

Y/N rubbed over the bare skin of his back, feeling the rippling muscles under her palm. Letting out a content sigh, he nuzzled deeper into her, pressing a tiny kiss to her other hand when it laid on his cheek. “I really should get up.” She whispered.

“I missed you last night.” He mumbled. "Just wanna spend more time with you."

"Quinn, we spent the whole night together, what are you talking about?" Pouting, he gently guided her hand to his hair, leaning into her touch. She smiled at his ploy to get her to stroke through the strands, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead as she did.

"Didn’t even talk to me.” Quinn grumbled. "Just slept the whole time.” His voice was accusatory, as if she betrayed him for doing the norm and falling asleep. He pouted bitterly at the memory of being cut off during his rambling by her soft snore.

"Oh.” Y/N rolled her eyes. "Sorry, I’ll try not to do that next time."

"I’ll wake you up if you fall asleep while I’m talking tonight. Swear I’ll do it.” He warned. Y/N snorted, making him crack a smile, humming when she gently scratched at his scalp with her nails.

"Okay, drama queen. You’re bad for my sleep schedule, you know.” Y/N scowled. His eyes closed, the scent of her perfume and body wash wafting through his nose. “Quinn, you have to let go.”

“Don’t wanna.” He grumbled, grabbing her hand and planting it over his head. Y/N sighed and yet, she was tangling her fingers into his tresses and scratching at his scalp. And really, she hated to admit it, but maybe it wasn’t entirely his fault that he was as spoiled as he was. She never seemed to really be able to fight against him, giving him exactly what he wanted no matter how many times she told herself not to.

“You’re so damn needy.” Y/N mumbled, slowly rubbing circles into his back as he sighed happily. She eyed the clock wearily, watching as the seconds ticked by and the minute hand moved slowly but surely until she was late just like she was every morning with him.

“No, I’m not.” Quinn murmured, and then his head tilted up and his lips tugged into a tiny pout as she pulled her hand away from his head. “Why’d you stop?”

“See?” Y/N snorted, pinching his nose affectionately. “Very needy.” Her hand moved to cup his face, rubbing a thumb over the swell of his cheek.

There was something satisfying about seeing someone like him pout as he pressed his face deeper into her palm, something that made her chest swell fondly as he closed his eyes and leaned into her touch, something that made him that much more human. Sometimes, Y/N almost didn’t think it was the same person. The man she’s watched shove sweaty bodies into the boards couldn’t be the one sprawled over her body right now, couldn’t be the one who whined for five more minutes of cuddles in the mornings as she was running late for work.

“Can’t you just call in sick?” Quinn grunted, plopping his head onto her chest, staring up at her as he propped himself up on his chin.

“No.” Y/N rolled her eyes. “You ask me this every morning. The answer is still the same.”

“If you loved me, you would.” He grumbled, glaring at her as she poked his curled lips with a giggle.

“Don’t I love you when I run late every morning for your extra cuddles?”

“Hardly.”

“You’re so ungrateful.” Y/N flicked his forehead, chuckling as he clicked his teeth and swatted her hand away. “I risk my job for you every damn morning.”

“You don’t need it.” He insisted. “I’ll take care of you, and you stay with me in the mornings. It’s a win-win, see?”

“I don’t think being stuck under you is a win.”

“Oh, yeah?” Quinn grinned, making her heart skip a beat. “But you never seem to complain when you’re under me.” He said cheekily. And he was unfair looking up at her in that handsome way he did, throwing her that lopsided smirk with a strand of hair loosely hanging across his face. Y/N trailed her thumb along his cheeks and across his nose, tracing over his lips and under the crinkles of his eyes. For a moment, she thought maybe he wasn’t the only one who’s needy. She thought maybe she needed him just as badly as he needed her, too.

“Quinn.” Y/N groaned, throwing him a dirty look as he snickered. “I really have to get up.”

“Just five more minutes.” He pleaded, flopping back onto her chest and snuggling against her, tucking his head under her chin. And when she kissed his forehead, he was sure he won just like always.

“You said that like twenty minutes ago.” She raised an eyebrow.

“This time for real.” Quinn mumbled. It was a lie, she knew it as well as he did, but she didn’t think it was a morning without him clinging to her body until she was more than a little late. So with a fond smile and a roll of her eyes, she wrapped her arms around him as she kissed the top of his head, pulling the blanket over his body as he sighed in content.

“You’re such a liar.” Y/N snorted, shaking her head as he smiled victoriously into her shirt.

#quinn hughes one shot #qh43 #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes blurb #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes #quinn hughes oneshot #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes fluff #quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes x female reader #quinn hughes x fem!reader #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes x you #quinn hughes drabble #vancouver canucks #quinn hughes thoughts

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brothebro · 2 years

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Okay so dp x dc because I’m hyperfixated af.

Danny, at his mid twenties probably, living in Gotham after having left Amity Park forever because of the GIW and working in Wayne Enterprises as an engineer. He has Tucker forge an ID for him of course, and he choses as his last name his birthparents surname. Aka Grayson. Yes, that Grayson family. Let’s say they gave Danny up for adoption when he was little because they couldn’t care for him or whatever other reason.

Okay so, we have one Daniel Grayson looking identical to one Richard Grayson working for the Wayne Tech department. What could possibly go wrong am i right? Except of course, a lot can go wrong, or rather, a lot of misunderstandings can happen. So, that’s how we have almost everyone in Wayne Tech thinking they are working with Dick Grayson — especially if Danny’s work id thing just says D. Grayson— and Danny is happily oblivious if mildly confused as to why everyone seems to be walking on eggshells around him. (He knows he can be intimidating as the Ghost King but hey, he’s just nerdy Danny at work, his aura can’t be *that* bad, can it?)

Ah, also let’s say it’s everlasting trio too, and Tuck works as a software engineer for Wayne Tech too and Sam is probably working for an unrelated non profit about the environment or something and all three of them are living together (are married? Maybe?)

In any case, it starts from Wayne Tech but spreads to the rest of Gotham that Brucie’s eldest got married in secret and is apparently working in his father’s business.

Cut to the one and only Dick “Nightwing” Grayson who lives and works in Bludheaven hearing the hot gossip about himself. He thinks it’s absurd. He thinks it’s crazy and then he stops and properly *thinks*. Okay, okay, he might have to look into it further because clones are a thing and if one has infiltrated Wayne Enterprises they could be in deep shit.

Bruce, meanwhile is hurt that Dick didn’t invite him to his wedding. He thought that of all of his children likely to get hitched in secret, Dick was the least probable one to do it.

#bro writes fic #dp x dc fanfic #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc #dick grayson #danny phantom #everlasting trio #danny and dick are twins au #if someone wants to write it lemme know first pls #<3

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mydearlybeloathed · 4 months

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𝐀 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐏 𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐅𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐒

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you decided to create a real life frosty the snowman for estelle blofis, a regular camp visitor. it goes... unexpectedly.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jason grace x fem!boreas!reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6k (wow)

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: child of boreas reader, female reader, snowmen, ethically ambiguous magic, more plot than fluff im sorry, tooth rotting fluff towards the end, daddy issues i think maybe, serious angst ngl, i will never be normal about jason grace, canon who?

𝐚/𝐧: this had no reason to be so emotionally taxing but here we are

Being the boyfriend of a Boreas kid meant two things happened every night: one, sneaking you in from your lonely cabin to his lonely cabin, and two, sleeping with nearly a hundred different blankets.

Normally, he fell asleep easy despite the chill, but there was a lot of work waiting for him back New Rome. Jason knew this holiday at Camp Halfblood was only making that work pile up, but he tired, so he didn't care just yet. He could let the anxiety catch him after Christmas. Plus, the longer he was away from work the longer he was with you.

Jason had been away doing Roman things for at least two months, and Iris Messages and the occasional phone call weren’t cutting in anymore; despite your cold shouldered father, you were as clingy as all get out. Not that Jason minded (he was clingy too).

The next fall of New Rome University couldn't seem to get there any slower. You were both going to be there, thank the gods.

Jason started to grin at just the thought, his eyes skimming all over your peaceful face as you breathed in and out slowly. The two of you were practically buried under all the blankets, and he would have been miserably hot if it weren’t for his amazing cooler system of a girlfriend.

“You’re staring,” you suddenly sang out softly, a mischievous smirk taking your face.

Jason’s heart sped up. “I thought you were asleep.”

“Creep,” you mumbled.

He reached over to caress your cheek, tucking some stray hairs behind your ear. You leaned into his touch and twisted in the blankets, wrapping your arms around his middle and nuzzling into his chest.

He pressed a light kiss to your hairline and rested his arm on your waist. “What’s up?”

“Just thinking.”

“About?”

You blinked blearily up at him. “Christmas. I’ve been working on something.”

“Care to share?” Jason had known you long enough to know you were serious about Christmas surprises. This time of year your powers were strongest, and you always took advantage of that.

You lightly patted his chest and snuggled deeper into bed. “Mhmm. When it’s ready. Can’t let anything get out or else Mr. D will so shut it down.”

Jason was officially intrigued. “What exactly… never mind. I'd rather sleep easy.”

You leaned up to kiss his jaw. “Good choice.”

He caught your lips before you could get back to sleep, cupping you cheek in his hand and drawing you close for an everlasting moment. The thundering mosaic on the ceiling was as annoying as ever, and he swore he could feel the statue of his dad staring holes into him.

So Jason pulled the pile of covers up to hide the two of you away, thriving off your little giggle as he pulled you in once more.

જ⁀➴

A week till Christmas, and you finally felt ready to cast the enchantment. Giddiness ran through your whole body all morning, along with some nerves, of course.

It all began when you heard Chiron reading a story to some of the littler campers. They were year rounders and were feeling homesick, whining and crying so much their counselors couldn't get anything done. So, he read to them, taking some Christmas storybook from Athena Cabin and frantically narrating the tale of Frosty the Snowman.

You’d been coming by to drop off some paperwork from your well-enough paying job in the Big House, lamenting being unable to find a suitable gift for Percy's little sister Estelle. She'd be coming to camp for the Christmas Day bonfires with her mother and father, and you had yet to find something she would like.

As you dropped off your papers you heard the older of the littles cry out that she wished it would snow in camp. Another then exclaimed he wished they had their own magic snowman.

Mr. D was in the next room over, promptly laughing and popping the kids dream bubble. You weren’t having that, not one bit. And suddenly, you had your perfect gift.

The only reasonable solution was to learn how to create a magic snowman.

(Jason would later call you crazy, which is basically a declaration of love, you think.)

You sat alone in the dim lighting of your cabin, which you shared with no one but the dust bunnies. Boreas didn’t really hoe around much, which you supposed was nice, aside from the fact that it left you no roommates. Nights used to get lonely before you and Jason started saying fuck to the rules.

Little snowflakes danced around your palms before they went spiraling into the air and exploded into dozens of flurries. Slowly, bit by bit, the snow started to pile up all around you, creating a blanket of white across the floor. You had the snow down, now, you just had to trust you had your sorcery skills down.

A knock on the cabin’s skylight startled you.

You smiled, calling up, “What’s the password?”

“Jason has the coolest girlfriend ever.”

“Not quite.”

There was a sigh. “Shiver me timbers.”

“Access granted,” you sang in reply, an all too satisfied smirk planted on your face.

The skylight creaked open, letting in the moonlight as well as your boyfriend. He shivered instantly. No matter how high you set the thermostat, the Boreas cabin was always freezing. Not that it ever bothered you, anyway.

A snow flurry landed on his nose, sending Jason into a sneezing fit. “Still working?”

“Mhmm.” He watched as you tried and failed to hide a yawn.

A little smile sprouted on his face as he rolled his eyes. “All right. Bed time.”

You shot him a glare. “Don’t baby me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, but I’m afraid I can’t sleep without you,” he said softly, holding out a hand with such a pretty look in his eyes. If he kept on looking at you like that, you might as well fall in love with him already.

“Fine,” you sighed, plopping your hand into his and letting him haul you to your feet. “Only because you can’t function without me.”

You wrung your arms around his neck and flushed yourself against him, his arms tight around you and a cute blush in his cheeks.

A light breeze kissed your cheek as he rose off the floor, keeping one arm around your waist while the other pushed open the skylight.

“Air Jason, taking off,” you said, doing your best to mimic a pilot’s microphone and failing miserably. Jason loved it though, an airy laugh bubbling from his lips as the night air met the pair of you with no regret.

“You’re such a dork,” he muttered into your ear, eliciting a poke to the ribs from you. Jason dropped a few feet in the air and nearly sent you into cardiac arrest, a scream leaving you as your legs clambered to wrap around his waist.

Jason was laughing for gods’ sake, shushing you as he picked up speed to reach Cabin One before the harpies caught you. “Sorry, sorry.”

In through the open window and down to the floor, the wind carried you all the way, a soft caress on your skin as if the air meant to comfort the two of you. You were going to ask him if he felt it too when a wave of exhaustion found you, and you started to lean into Jason, not letting him go even when your feet touched the ground.

He rubbed gently circles into your back, his chin coming to rest on your head, eyes closing. You were cold to touch, as always, but Jason would gladly get frostbite just to hold you forever.

Eyes soft, you caught corners of glittery lights in your peripheral, turning to find a Christmas tree that had definitely not been there a few hours ago. A smile split onto your face as you rushed up to it, admiring the rainbow lights and mismatched ornaments.

Jason must’ve gone through the Big House attic to find all these. You picked off an ornament of Olympus, a selfie of a smiling Apollo and a less than pleased Dionysus staring out from the little city of the gods.

“It’s perfect,” you said, spinning back around to find Jason there.

He had that look in his eyes. You know, the one that takes all the air out of you and leaves you craving nothing more than his very presence. “One more thing.”

You followed his gaze to the ceiling, lip slipping between your teeth to contain your smile. “Mistletoe?”

His hand came to cup your cheek, eyes dipping low. “Hey, I don’t make the rules.”

How could you argue with that? Without warning you lurched forward and sent Jason stumbling back, lips meeting his in a feverish moment.

જ⁀➴

Dawn was encroaching on the camp.

There was barely a noise all across the Long Island Sound, aside from the sea meeting land, the ruffling of the harpies’ feathers, and the contented snores coming from each cabin. In the stables the pegasi huffed and dealt with the faux antlers stuck to their heads. Mr. D sat snoring in a rocking chair on the Big House deck.

The tall and proud Christmas tree at the center of camp stood looming over Hestia’s fire. Her warm face could be spied through the flickering flames, if one looked close enough. Beneath the tree’s branches were boxed gifts, some from attentive godly parents, but most placed there by Chiron (he never bothered correcting the campers when they assumed Santa Claus came in the night).

Garlands and wreaths hung from every doorway. Mistletoe was easy to find from the awnings of the Aphrodite Cabin. Poinsettias bloomed over the rooftop of Demeter’s Cabin. The smell of cookies and candy canes wafted out from the camp kitchens, the dryads tossing bits of flour and sugar at each other as they prepared something special.

It was a Camp Halfblood Christmas if you’d ever seen one.

The only thing missing was snow.

You stood on the hilltop overlooking the center of camp, embracing the December chill. The magical borders prevented outside weather from affecting the camp, but they did nothing to stop weather coming from the inside.

Flexing your palms and shaking them out, you let out a breath that crystallized in the frigid air. The water in the air bended to your will, the clouds gathered at you command. You didn’t pretend to understand weather and the science of it all, you just knew that when the water in the clouds got cold enough…

Your concentration was unrelenting even as the first few snowflakes drifted down from above, following the current of air down the valley of camp. You would need a lot more than that. Glancing at the sun peeking up over the horizon, you pushed past your growing fatigue.

There would be snow that Christmas Day if you had anything to do about it.

જ⁀➴

Jason noticed right away that the familiar warmth of your freezing body was missing from his side. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes he rolled over and noticed that your shoes weren’t at the foot of the bed.

The whole cabin was freezing, but without you, it was just getting on his nerves. He was ready to get up, throw on a coat, and maybe just start yelling your name to find you wherever you’d run off to.

That was when he looked out the window. Jason’s jaw slacked, his eyes pleasantly wide and bright as a laugh tore out of him. He jumped up and didn’t bother with shoes as he flung open the cabin’s door and ran into the snow.

Everywhere a white layer of snow sat heavy on benches, picnic tables, the cabins—nothing was safe from this Christmas Day miracle.

He laughed again and raked his hands through his hair. So this is what you’d been working so secretively on. Jason really should have guessed sooner.

The sound of boots in the snow caught his attention and he glanced over to see Piper hurling a snowball at Leo’s head. Leo sputtered when the snow hit his face, a sly grin all over his face.

Piper laughed behind her hand and noticed Jason struggling to pull on sneakers in his doorway. She dodged a melty snowball from Leo’s warm hands and jogged toward him. Her voice was tangled with a smile. “Did you know she was planning this?”

“Nope,” he said, popping the p. All around camp kids were racing outside, slipping on the icy snow and tossing on any warm clothes they could find. You were still nowhere to be seen. “Have you seen her?”

Piper shook her head and made to say something when a handful of snow was dumped down the back of her shirt. She gasped and whirled around, shivering despite the hot anger in her eyes, and took off after a cackling Leo without another word.

Snickering, Jason took another look around, sighing when he couldn’t see you in the midst of excited campers.

He turned around to go grab a jacket when a soft noise caught his attention. Some kind of grunting, followed by a startled yelp. Jason started to smile. He’d know that sound anywhere. He followed the noise around the side of his cabin, tilting his head at the sight.

You were red in the face, using all your might to roll a giant ball of snow, struggling to say the least. Estelle was standing by with rapt attention, excitement written all over her face.

Jason went to stand beside Estelle, kneeling to be at her height. He leaned in to stage-whisper, “Do you think she needs some help?”

You looked up, stopping in the process of pushing your back against the snow, huffing and puffing through your glare. Estelle giggled. “Probably.”

He saw it in your face; you wanted to flip him off, only refraining given the current company. Estelle’s eyes gleamed up at him along with a bucktooth smile. “We’re building a snowman!”

“We?” you huffed, tucking your hair out of your face and behind your ears. “I didn’t know we were pronouncing my name as we now.”

Estelle rolled her eyes. “I’m supervising.”

“Honestly, I think ‘Stelle’s doing the heavy lifting,” Jason teased.

You sighed and turned to face your work. “That’s one layer. Jason, you do the middle.”

Still grinning, he was going to protest before doing exactly as you said, when a voice echoed across the lawn. One of the Stolls (Jason knew they were a few years apart but he still could never remember which was which) was approaching, a snowball in hand.

“Yo, Y/N!” he called. “It’s getting a little soggy over here!”

You smiled like this wasn’t the first time someone had had this complaint, wasting no time in cracking your neck and splaying out your hands. A cold rush of wind enveloped you, a firm crease in your brows, before the another wave of snow rained down from the clouds.

The Stoll brother shouted his thanks, and you meant to offer a smile when suddenly the world got tipsy, everything going black for a split second as you teetered off balance. Jason’s heart dropped and he rushed to your side, steadying you against him.

“Hey, hey, you with me?”

You blinked blankly, though you nodded despite the greenish tint in your cheeks that was quickly fading. Still, Jason wanted nothing more than to sit you down and cast lighting upon anyone who tried to use you like a snow machine again.

“I’m fine,” you assured him, gaining your color back. “Just a bit tired keeping all of this up.”

Estelle was attempting to finish the snowman on her own, promptly falling face first into the snow and sputtering to her feet. You giggled at her expense, not realizing you were still leaning mostly on Jason.

He wasn’t done questioning. “How long did it take to cover the whole camp?”

“Oh, uhm.” Your brows drew together, lips pursed. “A few hours. No big deal.”

You broke away from Jason and went to help Estelle roll along another giant snowball, casting Jason a reassuring smile. He let out a sigh and tried to let it go, going to help with the snowman construction.

The three of you finished the three layers of the snowman’s body, and Estelle ran off to collect the decorations and came back with a box, her brother, and her brother’s girlfriend.

Percy held Estelle on his shoulders, the box of supplies in Annabeth’s arms. You wiped your brow and smiled so brightly upon spying them, that Jason nearly forgot you’d been focusing on continuing the snowfall all along, slowly draining yourself.

Before he could call you out you sprang to your feet and went to pick the carrot out of the box. Annabeth chuckled and said, “I had to fight Blackjack for that.”

“Aww,” you hummed through a giggle. “Poor guy.”

Percy scoffed. “Please, he gets enough carrots. He could spare us at least five.”

Before you even had the chance to reply Estelle had jumped up to swipe the carrot from your hand. A response was barely on you lips when she nearly toppled the whole snowman over trying to stick the nose on its blank face.

You sighed and went to help her, scooping your hands under her arms and lifting her so she could reach its face.

The morning went by as Piper and Leo approached the finished snowman with hot cocoa in hand. Piper sported a grin as she looked at you and said, “Mr. D is furious.”

“I hoped so,” you said.

As Piper knelt to talk to Estelle you once again chose to ignore the weightiness in your shoulders, swallowing thickly to deal with your drying throat, and walked to the near empty box. Inside was a top hat you’d been saving for last. This was what the practice was leading up to.

“Hey, Stelle,” you called. Jason came to your shoulder, brows drawn, and you shot him a smirk. “Have Percy help you put the hat on top.”

She needed no more asking, taking her brother’s hand and dragging him to the snowman. Percy lifted her just as you had, and as Estelle rested the silk top hat on the snowman’s head, you held out a hand, worked some Boreas kid magic, and sent up a prayer to your dear old dad. A flurry of snowflakes shot out from your palm and right to the heart of the snowman.

You waited on bated breath as Estelle’s boot crunched back to the snowy ground, your gaze locked on the unmoving creature of snow. One second, then two, then three, until a minute passed. Estelle ran back to Annabeth and started ranting about something, Percy right behind her as he slung an arm around Annabeth’s shoulders. Piper and Leo engaged in another snowball fight, hot cocoa discarded on the ground.

And the snowman stood still. Your lips pursed with confusion and frustration. Jason appeared beside you again, looking from you to the snowman. “What’re we glaring at Frosty for?”

“Nothing,” you dismissed with a forced grin. You let out a sigh and intertwined your fingers with his, pressing a swift kiss to the back of his hand. “Wanna head inside? You’re shivering.”

He shook his head and slipped an arm around your waist. He was warm and soft and despite how much you loved the cold, you’d never get tired of it. But you couldn’t focus on that right now; you were too disappointed.

That was until he tried to lead Jason back to his cabin anyway, and your boyfriend had a full stop, his eyes slightly horrified while also mystified. Brows pinched, you were on the verge of asking what was wrong when his hand gripped your chin. You flushed deep red at the action, another rush of warmth hitting you, but then Jason was turning your head to follow his line of sight.

A bright laugh escaped you. There, made of snow, two button eyes, and a carrot nose, was Estelle’s snowman. But now, he was living and breathing, the little twig eyebrows on him drawn taut as he examined himself, looking at himself tree branch arms.

The lot around you stood in shock, looking from you to your creation. You laughed again quite like a mad scientist, and dropped Jason’s hand to slowly approach the snowman.

“Hello,” you said, and he considered you with a blank button stare, the line of chocolate chips making his mouth curved down into a frown.

“What am I?” he asked you, dropping his arms to his sides. He looked very contemplative for a snowman.

“A snowman,” you answered brightly.

The snowman hummed. His voice was soft, reminding you of the sound of crackling fire. Ironic. “I don’t think I’m meant to be alive. I feel… odd.”

Your smile started to fade, and you glanced back at your friends for help. Estelle stood awestruck, slowly stomping through the snow to stand at your side. She took your hand and looked up at the snowman with shining eyes.

The snowman looked back at her, going quiet. “Hello.”

Estelle started to smile. “Hi. My name’s Estelle, and this is Y/N. Those are our friends.” She jabbed a thumb back at the others. “Oh, do you have a name?”

He seemed to turn thoughtful, nodding. “I believe it was Perseus.”

Estelle let out a tiny gasp. “That’s what I called you! In my head!” She turned to you in complete and utter amazement. “How did he know that?”

You could only shake you head with a smile, squeezing her hand. “I dunno. Magic?” You couldn’t help but laugh once more, casting a glance up at the sky. The wind brushed through your hair, feeling oddly like a father’s hand ruffling a daughter’s hair.

You’d never met your father, but you doubted he was a cold as the weather.

Percy, Annabeth, Leo, and Piper came to admire the snowman, introducing themselves as he assessed them one by one. Jason hooked an arm around your waist, pulling you side against his, and you practically melted onto him. Your legs felt a tad bit weak.

He pressed a lingering kiss to your temple, whispering in your ear. “You astonish me.”

A smile split onto your face as you turned to kiss his cheek. Percy started to laugh as he looked upon the snowman. “Perseus the Snowman, huh?”

Perseus was holding Estelle’s hand as she rattled on about camp and how cool her big brother was and all about the Greek gods. Perseus listened with unabashed attention, the crease in his twig brows alluding to his curiosity.

Annabeth sidled up to you, unsure how to phrase her question. “Do you… Well, was this smart?”

You gave her an odd look. “What do you mean?”

The wise daughter of Athena settled you with her seriousness. “He’s snow… you can’t keep him that way forever.”

Her words rattled you to your core, and for once, you felt the chill of December.

Morning passed to evening, and you stayed stuck to Jason’s side more by exhaustion than by choice. Not that you minded, but the jelly feeling in your legs was less than pleasant. It took some work to ward off the curious campers from bombarding Perseus, who proved to be a rather anxious snowman.

Christmas Day passed by answering the endless questions of a snowman, explaining everything he could ever want to know.

Piper and Leo had gone off to lead ornament making with their respective cabins, being head counselors and all, and Percy and Annabeth went to make an obligatory holiday call to the latter’s father. Leaving only you, Jason, Estelle, and Perseus.

The four of you were at a picnic table close to the woods, the demigods sat atop the table and the snowman rolled up to the side.

Your energy was slowly but surely coming back to you. With the sun crossing the sky and starting to descend, the need for snow was waning. You hadn’t had a demand for a few hours, and to be honest, you were grateful. Your eyes felt droopy and your shoulders ached. You wanted to sleep, but you had one more thing to keep focused on: Perseus the Snowman.

Jason drew gentle shapes on your hand, letting you lay your head on his lap as Estelle told the harrowing tale of how Percy defeated Clarisse La Rue in his very first game of capture the flag.

You were having trouble looking at your snowman. From what he said when Estelle let out a yawn, he knew exactly why.

“Look at that,” he said, drawing everyone’s attention. His button eyes swept across the lawn of camp, where the snow was melting into the grass under the heat of the setting sun. His eyes turned to you, then. “You’re letting it all melt.”

You sat up and crossed your legs, resting your hands in your lap. You blinked at him, a tug on your heart. “Yes.”

He could only stare back at you. “You’re keeping me, though.”

Perseus was very perceptive for a snowman. You smiled at him. “We’re not done talking to you.”

He smiled back. “That’s true. And when we’re done talking?”

Estelle was looking between all of you, a confused purse in her lips. Jason cleared his throat and asked her to get him earmuffs from his cabin. She nodded and ran off, nearly tripping over herself. You sent him a look. “You don’t own earmuffs.”

“Oops,” he murmured through a grin. Perseus was watching the pair of you almost fondly.

You turned back to him and searched for the words to say, but it was all lost on you. Jason continued to rub soothing circles into your skin. All the words you knew suddenly boiled over. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think what would happen when… You know.”

Perseus shifted around, a gentle chocolate chip smile on his face as he took in the scenery. “Don’t be sorry. I’m happy to have lived.”

“But… you’re going to die,” you couldn’t help but say, as if he needed reminding.

He didn’t. That much was clear by his smile. “Don’t be sorry,” he echoed. “I’ll be happy to die. Snowmen aren’t meant for longevity.”

Your throat constricted. “It’s all my fault. I wasn’t thinking.”

“You were thinking of Estelle,” he said. “I’ve made her happy. I’m perfectly fine with melting.”

You cupped a hand over your mouth and averted your eyes just as Estelle came sprinting back, chest heaving as she lamented being unable to find any earmuffs.

“It’s cool, Stelle,” Jason said, forcing a smile.

She plopped back down and huffed, looking to Perseus, then the sunset. Perseus glittered in the light, and it took you far too long to realize it wasn’t glitter, but dew.

Estelle, angel she is, noticed it too. “Perseus, are you melting?” Before he could even think to answer she was turning on you, a fire in her gaze. “Make him better.”

You would—gods, all of Olympus knew you would, if only you weren’t exhausted. You gaped like a fish, squeezing Jason’s hand. Perseus the Snowman shook his head. “No, there’s no need.”

He reached out a wooden arm and she gently wrapped her little fingers around the splintered edges of his crooked hand. “I don’t fear death.”

Estelle’s jaw hung slack for an everlasting moment. “Well, I do! Y/N, do it.”

Jason tensed and snapped, “Stelle, that’s not fair.”

She didn’t seem to care in the slightest.

“Estelle,” Perseus drew her attention back to him. “You’ll make more snowmen.”

She shook her head hopelessly, eyes going glassy. “No, I won’t. I won’t ever make another snowman.”

“How sad,” said Perseus. “Never?”

Estelle wiped her nose on her sleeve and looked at the ground. “Maybe, not never.”

The snowman started to smile again. His button eyes roamed over them all, stopping on the sky, and he sighed. “What a wonderful day to be alive.”

You turned your face so no one would see you crying. Jason's hold on your hand was the only thing sobering you up enough to remain on the picnic table, watching the sunset with your snowman.

The god Astraeus painted the sky with vibrant yellows, pinks, and oranges in a sunset to rival all others. It was too beautiful. Perseus kept his blank gaze settled on it alone, his hand still in Estelle’s. You and Jason sat rigid behind them as time ticked away.

The moon rose expectantly to take its place as the sun started to hide under the horizon. The yellows and pinks made way for the dark blue of night creeping in. Only then did Perseus shift his gaze back to Estelle. “I’m ready now.”

A crease grew in your brow when Estelle nodded, understanding what you did not, and she stood up on the table to reach over Perseus’ head. With shaky hands she reached for his hat, glancing down at him, worrying her lip between her teeth.

All Perseus did was smile. “Merry Christmas.”

The little girl took in a wavering breath. “Merry Christmas.” And she removed the hat, lifting it off his head, and in an instant all hints of emotion left the snowman. Nothing changed at all, but each of you could see it; those buttons held life behind them no longer.

You bit down hard on your lip. “How did you know that would work?”

She shrugged, setting the hat down on the snow. “I didn’t.”

The sound of footfalls on the snow had you turning around. Chiron approached, a sorry look in his eyes, and he stopped a few feet off. “Everyone has gathered around the tree.”

You took Estelle’s hand in yours, steeling yourself and offered her a smile that she slowly returned. Jason moved to walk at your side as you followed Chiron to the center of camp. The tree lit up most of camp, stretching high and out.

Campers were singing off key here and there. A pair of girls was caught under the mistletoe, one laughing awkwardly before the moon eyed one swooped in for a gentle peck on her lips. Gifts were being exchanged. Snow balls were thrown. A snowman was being built by some younger Hermes kids too.

“Hey!” Percy called out, cheeks flushed as he sipped on his apple cider. One arm was slung around his girlfriend who was talking in low voices with Thalia. The lot of your friends were gathered around one of the many little fires scattered around the lawn.

He offered you and Jason each a blue gingerbread man, grinning ear to ear. “Mom made ‘em.”

You looked around for Mrs. Blofis and found her at a nearby table, handing out marshmallows for roasting with Mr. Blofis at her side. Mr. Blofis wasn’t doing much handing out, instead in what seemed to be a deep conversation with Mr. D. The god of wine was gesturing wildly as he regaled some kind of story.

All was well. All was calm. You found it in yourself to actually smile.

Guilt wasn’t very far, wondering truly what you had been thinking bringing a snowman to life, when a particularly harsh bout of wind blew all your hair into your face. You sputtered through a giggle and swiped your hair to the side, your voice faltering when you caught sight of a man standing on the outskirts of the bonfires and chatter.

It couldn’t be. You stepped away from Jason and the rest, approaching the stranger. He stood tall, with a suit that glittered like snow. Two purple wings arched from his shoulder blades. What could your father want with you on Christmas?

“Hi,” you said, not sure where to start.

He stirred like he was uncomfortable. “Yes, hello, daughter.”

You had the heart to grin. “Merry Christmas.”

Boreas nearly scoffed before he corrected himself with a nod. “You as well.”

The silence to follow was tense. You motioned with your hand vaguely. “Is there a reason you’re here?”

You weren’t sure how to feel about meeting your father. You’d imagined this moment countless times, but it all led up to this anticlimactic reveal that was more amusing than aweing.

“There is,” he huffed. “I thought I would let you know your little magic act didn’t harm anything.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, heart dropping.

“I mean that the snowman is not dead,” Boreas informed you. “The snowman itself was never alive, I suppose. I’m impressed, I should say. You managed to catch a snow spirit and wrangle it into that snowman. Normally, snow spirits don’t get lives… You did a good thing, I suppose, giving that spirit one. He remembers it all. Perseus, as you called him, is living free and wild, as a snow spirit should be.”

You hadn’t realized your eyes were watering, relief coursing through you. “Oh, thanks gods. I’m not murderer.”

Boreas chuckled softly. “You’re not.” He averted his eyes, raising a hand and pausing, unsure, before he settled it on your shoulder and met your eyes. “I’m… proud of you. I don’t have many children. You’re certainly one I don’t regret.”

You blinked up at him, reaching to awkwardly pat his forearm. “Thanks, Dad.”

He nodded stiffly, backed away, and with a last Merry Christmas, he vanished in a flurry of snowflakes. One landed on your nose and gave you an ever rare shiver.

Jason’s arm wrapped around you, his warmth enveloping you like a nice blanket. “You good?”

Nodding, you leaned your head on his shoulder. “Very.”

Curfew was extended that night, much to the herpes disappointment. Treats and drinks were devoured by greedy children and finally, at the end of the night, Chiron gave the word and a stampede of kids ran to tear open the gifts they’d been eyeing for weeks.

After the younger kids had grabbed theirs and the crowd died down, your group moved in to find the gifts with your names on them. Your dad gifted you a snowglobe of camp. You shook it up with a smile, not noticing your sweating boyfriend approach you from behind.

“Y/N?” You turned, smile widening. Jason only got more nervous. “Uhm… I…”

You set the snowglobe back in its box on the ground and stepped closer to him, taking his hands in your freezing ones. “Yeah?”

“I love you,” he blurted. “So much.”

Your grin grew painful with how big it was. “And I love you.”

Jason blushed and took a deep breath. “You’ve been with me through… everything. When I wasn’t sure who I was, when Hera manipulated me and Piper, through the war.” He was out of breath, only one thought on his mind: no words would ever be enough. “I’m so in love with you. I can’t explain how much. Just when I think about it I can’t breathe.”

Your face had fallen into admiration. Jason’s thumb rubbed anxious lines on your knuckles. “I never want to spend a day without you. You deserve everything, I want to give it to you.”

“Jason…” Your voice was shaky, tapering off.

“Don’t worry,” he nearly whispered, moving to cup your cheek. “I’m not asking you to marry me. Not yet.” You giggled and he swore it was better than ambrosia. “I will though. I promise I will.”

You were too busy reaching to take his face in your hands to notice when he pulled something out of his pocket. You leaned forward to kiss the very life out of him, and he would very much have let you, but he drew you back with his hold on your jaw, chuckling when you frowned.

He held up a little velvet box between your bodies. Suddenly you weren’t so interested in kissing him, swiping the box from him with greedy hands and gleaming eyes. You popped the box open, admiring the pretty silver chain laid within. “Oh, it’s beautiful.”

“Here.” Jason turned you around and offered to clip it around your neck. He didn’t waste the opportunity, peppering kisses from the skin behind your ear down to your shoulder, relishing in the little quiver you gave in response. “Merry Christmas.”

Whirling back around, you jumped him, arms flinging around his neck as you crushed your lips to his. You pulled back for barely a second to mumble, “Merry Christmas” before your tongue pushed past his lips, your teeth catching his bottom lip.

“Woah! Woah! No PDA in my camp!” You groaned and ripped away from Jason, rolling your eyes as you cast Mr. D a glare over your shoulder.

Jason wasn’t so cocky anymore, red from neck to nose. “Sorry!”

“I don’t get paid enough…”

You and your boyfriend locked eyes, breaking down into a round of laughter as the grumpy god stomped away.

“Hey!” Piper jumped out of nowhere, Leo hot on her tail. Both were totally buzzed, and all you could do was laugh and wonder how on earth they’d snuck in alcohol. “Come sing carols, lovebirds!”

The pair of you followed the pair of them back to the little bonfire your friends had claimed. Fiddling with your necklace, you eyes scanned across them all to land on Jason, and a rush of adoration hit you like a freight train. You pecked his cheek and watched him stumble over a chuckle, returning a kiss to your hairline.

Then, as you leaned your head on his shoulder, a snowflake crossed your eye.

One by one, the sky became littered with flurries. Annabeth held up a hand as if to catch some. “Y/N, you’ve got to be tired by now. Take a rest.”

You shook you head slowly, confused. “This isn’t me.”

The winter wind kissed your cheek, and you were left at a loss. But Estelle—sweet Estelle, who sat between her brother and Annabeth—she knew. A little grin appeared on her face. “Goodbye, Perseus.”

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pix3lplays · 5 months

Text

Once again I am writing in honor of Dr. Veritas Ratio coming home-

So imagine!

Him Literally coming home!!

Fluff this time!

Bellflowers. Absolutely perfect. He read once that they symbolized everlasting love. Exactly what he was going for…

It’s been so long since he’s seen you. He’s been away on a business trip, denying his dear the sweet satisfaction of having him close…

And he had to make it up to you somehow, now that he was back.

He arrives at the door of your shared apartment, a bouquet in one hand, a box of your favorite chocolates tucked underneath his other arm, and he fumbles for his keys for a moment, not even noticing how excited he was at the prospect of coming back home to you.

He swings the door open. You had heard the key in the door. You promptly abandoned the book you were reading on the couch and ran as fast as you could to see your beloved husband and-

As soon as he takes a step inside, you’re all over him, wrapping your arms around his neck, peppering his face with sweet kisses, not even hearing him complain about how he was carrying things and you were going to make him drop them.

“Hm?” you ask as you kiss his jaw for the umpteenth time.

“For. YOU,” he says, struggling to pry you off of him. Yes he was HAPPY as can be, but he was really expecting this encounter to be a little more…dignified.

You take a step back, take a look at the now nearly crushed bellflowers and chocolates in his arms.

“Oh…Veritas…” you whisper, bringing your hands over your mouth.

“No need for tears now…do we have a vase?”

That was so like him, you think to yourself, as you nod and lead him to the kitchen.

You’re filling a vase up with water, leaning over the kitchen sink, when you sense his presence behind him. He’s set the flowers and chocolates down on the kitchen table, and his hands are now on your hips as he kisses the back of your neck.

He’s being calm and behaving himself now, but you know he wants to talk about his trip.

You know you’ll be sitting up in bed late into the evening while he gestures wildly and paces around the bedroom, telling you every minute and insignificant detail. And you know he’ll get upset at you if you start to drift off.

You’d have it No other way.

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #Dr. Ratio #dr. ratio x reader #Hsr Dr. Ratio x reader #honkai star rail Dr. Ratio x reader

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just-pot-over-here · 4 months

Note

Ok, of course, yes please also tell us about your favorite Crutchie and why!

LETS FUCKING GOOOO OKAY

i have no problem with AKB as a person!! just getting that out of the way because i WILL shit on his portrayal of Crutchie swiftly and without remorse.

AKB is very good at playing the happy-go-lucky, innocent, wide eyed comedic relief character. he plays the same type of character in tuck everlasting as Jesse, and in the Dracula reimagining he's in now. he's a good actor and he plays that typecast well!

the problem is, that isn't Crutchie. i feel like AKB drastically sanitized the character that was written in the script. he made Crutchie into this pure and wholesome caricature of a disabled person, who gets pushed around and defended and is always upbeat about it. The general atmosphere of fan spaces in 2017 didn't help that at all either. I remember a lot of infantilizing Crutchie, all sorts of "smol boi ray of sunshine" shit. he was treated like this defenseless, needy little thing. he wasn't a person.

I really feel like Matthew Duckett (an actual disabled actor! almost like it matters!) read the same script as AKB, and got a person out of it instead of a pity sponge. Matthew's Crutchie is, to put it plainly, a little shit. He antagonizes the Delanceys, fights cops, slingshots his friends when he gets bored. He's playful and funny, but he's also whip-smart, fast on his feet, and will talk shit like it's nobody's business. his doubt about the strike isn't him being scared and worried about fighting, it's him being a realist and a strategist, recognizing flaws in their plan that jack isn't even thinking about. He isn't this defenseless little blob that the other newsies have to constantly worry about, but a competent and capable part of the community. one of jack's right hands and confidants, an intelligent and necessary part of the strike. it makes it so much more devastating when he's taken to the refuge. jack falls apart because he's lost his friend, brother, and equal, not because he let poor little Crutchie get captured by the cops.

and when Matthew's Crutchie gets back from the refuge, he is happy to be back and see his friends, but he is also angry. he's angry and hurt and has a lot of other emotions going on, which you can see when he cuffs Snyder. he doesn't just bounce right back, he is affected tremendously. like a REAL GODDAMN PERSON.

i love how Matthew Duckett gave Crutchie room to be a capable, emotional character instead of a clean-cut sunny blob. you can really see that he isn't just Crutchie, he's Sean (or Charlie or whatever name you prefer), the real person.

AKB made Crutchie a caricature, Matthew Duckett brought him to life.

#i love matthew duckett with my whole entire heart #newsies #newsies broadway #crutchie newsies #crutchie morris #newsies uk #charlie morris #matthew duckett #andrew keenan bolger #livesies #uksies #uk newsies #newsies live

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the-guilty-writer · 1 year

Text

Damaged

Agent Rossi-Reid

Anthology Masterlist

David Rossi x daughter!reader, Criminal minds x BAU!reader

Summary: After twenty years, Rossi-Reid learns why her father stopped putting up the Christmas Tree.

A/N: This is basically a rewrite of S3E14 “Damaged”. I wanted to include it since it’s such an important part of Rossi’s arc and other significant events (even if only snippets are shown) happen during this episode.

CW: So many Rossi-Reid feelings, Hotch getting a divorce, regular crminal minds violence, talks about santa not being real

---

“Spencer!” you called. “You’re going to be late!” You packed a snack in a small tupperware container and stuck it in his satchel.

He walked out of the bedroom, tucking in his shirt and striding forward at the same time. You looked over at him and made a face. “What?” he asked. “Is it my hair? I was thinking it looked a little long this morning-”

“It’s not your hair, Spence.” You smiled. “Your hair is wonderful as always. It’s just, you and Hotch are going to do that interview tomorrow at the prison.”

Spencer grabbed his satchel and put the strap over his shoulder. “When you say it like that it sounds like we’re competing to see who gets to be the last inmate at a luxury detention facility. They’d pick me off my hairstyle alone.”

You couldn’t help but giggle just a bit. Spencer had recently acquired a rather new-found confidence and you loved it. “You’re wearing a tie,” you said.

“I wear ties all the time,” he retorted.

“Yes, but you’re going to be in a room with a killer and I’d rather not get a call that you were strangled,” you admitted.

Spencer knew that even though your tone was joking, you were actually rather serious. Behind your humorous exterior you harbored fear. As you turned from unlocking the apartment door to walk him out, he took you by the waist and pulled you into a kiss.

The older the two of your got and the longer you were married the more your kisses had evolved, and the more you understood what each type of kiss ment: there were the soft ones that lingered before you went to sleep or before the two of you parted which was a simple and strong “I love you”. There were the feather-light ones used for teasing and deep, all consuming ones for passion. There were ones on foreheads and knuckles for comfort and rare pecks on cheeks in public just to show you were marito and moglie- staking your claim on one another for the world to see. But recently you and Spencer had developed a new type of kiss- one that was deep and full, that caused a feeling to spread through your whole body as if you were being engulfed in Spencer while the rest of the world just faded away. It was different than a kiss of devouring lust or everlasting love- it was a kiss that knitted the fabric of your souls together for a few sweet seconds of eternity.

This new kiss was by far your favorite, and it seemed to be Spencer’s too.

“You’re going to be late,” you whispered.

Spencer purposefully tilted his head so his nose touched yours ever so slightly. The intimacy of delicate touches drove you crazy and he knew it.

“I should probably get going then,” he murmured.

“You probably should.”

You had to be the one to pull away, taking Spencer’s hand from your hip to intertwine it with your own. The two of you would hold hands until you exited the apartment building, and then you’d have to let go and wave goodbye to him as he climbed into the passenger seat of the SUV with Hotch.

Delicacy would have to wait.

---

You weren’t used to sleeping alone. With Spencer’s absence you found yourself seeking companionship and headed to work particularly early only to find yourself in an empty bullpen for the majority of the morning.

Growing up, your house had always been rather empty and lonely, and something about your Italian heritage made you long to go back to your grandparents' home country to live in a family house full of aunts and uncles and cousins. You wished for a house that was loud and never stopped moving. You wished for a family that never left you alone. Then you got old enough that your dad could bring you to the BAU after school and on weekends that he had to work. Suddenly you had everything you wished for- aunts that baked you cookies and scolded you for running in the halls, uncles that paid you a quarter to bring their reports to other departments so they didn’t have to, and eventually a brother; the young agent Hotchner who was trying to get on your dad’s good side. The BAU was the only true home had ever known, and you couldn’t stand to feel like your home was empty.

That’s how you ended up in JJ’s office that morning, sitting in the corner chair working on files while she went through her own manila folders. At some point, Garcia burst into the office and began to pace, but you didn’t really pay attention to what she was saying until you heard your own name.

“-Rossi showed up at my door in the middle of the night while I was enjoying a post-coital shower with fellow FBI technical analyst Kevin Lynch?”

You and JJ both looked up at Garcia, and then at one another.

“Sit,” JJ said to Garcia. You put your work on the chair and went to perch on the corner of JJ’s desk. You weren’t sure what was more intriguing about the whole thing- the fact that Garcia was in the shower with some guy, or that your dad had shown up at her apartment in the middle of the night.

No, you were definitely more interested in the guy.

“I need your help.” Garcia looked between the two of you.

“With what?” JJ asked.

“Agent Rossi,” Garcia said, concerned. “We're not supposed to date fellow bureau employees.”

“From what I hear, Rossi is the reason most of these fraternization rules even exist, okay?” JJ said.

“Oh, he is,” you confirmed with a smirk. “And it’s not like they even enforce those rules… I mean, Spencer and I got married and both of us still work here.”

“He's not gonna tell anyone,” JJ tried to ease Garcia’s nerves. “Just relax.”

“What was my dad doing at your apartment?” you inquired as casually as possible, hoping Garcia would spill.

“That's a good-” Garcia stopped herself. “I’m not supposed to tell anyone.”

Now you were even more curious.

“Why?” JJ drew out the word.

“I didn’t press the issue,” Garcia answered.

You tuned out JJ and Garcia’s voices, thinking about what your dad could possibly be hiding when another familiar name caught your attention.

“Mrs. Hotchner,” JJ answered the phone.

Your heart sank in your chest- Haley had been a big part of your life for a long time. Her and Hotch were newlyweds when you met them- all young and googly eyed and disgustingly in love. Back then, the BAU had also been quite the boys club, and Haley had taken you under her wing. You finally had someone that could teach you about clothes and make-up and boys. She was the first real consistent female figure in your life.

But despite your efforts to contact her, she hadn’t gotten back to you since she served Hotch with divorce papers.

“Well, that- that would make sense because he's in a prison right now, so sometimes cell service can be…” JJ trailed off and you tried not to overhear the angry words on the other end of the phone. “Oh, yeah- well if-yeah, if I can get ahold of him I'll… okay.” JJ hung up the phone. “That is one seriously pissed-off lady.”

You didn’t want to imagine Haley angry- she’d always been such a caring and understanding person, and selfishly, that’s how you wanted to keep seeing her. Once again, you tuned out the conversation and went back to your paperwork, but now your mind was flooded with questions and anxieties. You doubted you’d get any paperwork done now.

JJ got on the phone and Garcia left the office. You looked down at the files and wished that Spencer was there. It wouldn’t have taken much for him to make you feel better- just a small brush of hands or shoulders, maybe a few badly spoken Italian words- but he wasn’t there. As soon as JJ hung up the phone she looked over to you. “Are you okay?”

“Am I really that easy to read?” you asked.

JJ sighed. “No, but Hotch is getting divorced and I know you were close to Haley. You’re Jack’s godmother. On top of that your dad apparently has some massive secret that he’s been recruiting Garcia to help him with. I’d be feeling a little sad right now if I were you.”

You shrugged. “I’m not all that worried about my dad to be honest,” you admitted. “And I guess if Haley only had me in her life because of Hotch... then she was never really my friend in the first place.”

JJ didn’t have time to respond because Prentiss opened the door without knocking. Her eyes expressed concern and she spoke quickly. “You guys should come see this.”

“You go,” you told JJ. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

Emily and JJ left you alone in her office. You picked up your phone and scrolled through your contacts, looking for Haley’s number. You weren’t sure what you were going to do. You weren’t going to call her- she never picked up anymore. Every text you’d sent had gotten no reply. There wasn’t anyone there to tell you what to do… except for you.

Your dad would have scolded you for being too involved, Spencer would have just taken your phone and held it above his head so you couldn’t reach, and Hotch… Well, for the first time in a long time you didn’t know what Hotch would do. So you typed the message out and pressed send before putting your phone in your pocket and pushing the thought to the back of your mind.

You walked to the bullpen to find Emily and JJ, but the two of them and Morgan were leaning over the railing outside your dad’s office, talking to Garcia.

“The guy is a fussy, anal-retentive neat freak who-” Emily stopped herself when you approached.

There was a pause and all of them looked at you. It was the same way agents used to look at you when you were a teenager and walked in on them conversing about a brutal case- you had heard something that you weren’t supposed to hear.

“Let me guess,” you started. “We’re talking about my dad?”

You peered behind Emily to see what all the fuss was about, and indeed it was something to fuss over. Your father’s files were scattered all over his office- the desk, the table, and the floor were littered with papers that would take hours to organize properly. Never in your life had you seen your father’s space look so messy.

“Oh, Papa.” Your jaw fell slack in shock and you rushed up to your dad’s office to get a closer look. Nothing was broken- his favorite mug was empty on his desk, the lamp stood tall, and the glass of the picture of the two of you was still intact- but your father’s filing system was like an extension of his brain and at the moment it was destroyed. “Fuori come un balcone…” You muttered as you looked around at the disarray in front of you.

“Say what?” Morgan asked.

“She says he’s gone crazy,” Emily interpreted.

You looked back at Garcia. You loved Penelope, you truly did, but if she didn’t tell you where your father was, you thought you might become the next unsub the team had to hunt down. “Where did my father go?” you asked, your tone serious. Almost dangerous.

Garcia turned serious as well. “He’s in Indianapolis on a 20 year-old double homicide. He said it’s time someone pays for it, and he was upset.”

You shook your head in slight disbelief- you must have been around seven or eight when it happened, but you had no distinct memory of your father coming home upset over a case at that age. When you were that little he tried to keep you as far away from the bad part of his work as possible, but surely you would have remembered something that disturbed him this badly.

The rest of the team’s chatter was background noise until Morgan tapped you on the shoulder. You turned to look at the team member who was probably least impressed by your father, but a team was a team to Morgan and that’s all that really mattered.

“Rossi-Reid,” he said. “Let’s go.”

---

It felt like the start to a bad joke… You, JJ, Morgan, and Prentiss walking into a bar. But seeing your dad look so defeated made you want to do anything but laugh. You’d grown up thinking he was invincible, and even though you knew better now it still hurt something inside you to know that he wasn’t. You couldn’t even bring yourself to speak as the rest of the group convinced your dad to let them help.

Rossi finally turned away from the bar. He looked at everyone, but his gaze lingered on you just a bit longer than the others. “Why do you care?” he asked.

You wanted to speak, but you couldn’t bring yourself to open your mouth.

“Because you do,” Emily said.

Without another word, Rossi grabbed his drink and walked over to a section of the bar that looked more like a lounge. All of you sat down and your dad began to talk. The case wasn’t even supposed to involve the BAU- your dad just happened to be in the car with the detective when he got the call. They were first on the scene of a brutal murder, leaving three kids as orphans, and there wasn’t anything to lead them to a suspect. The murder weapon, an ax, had been wiped clean.

“It turns out it belonged to the family,” your dad said. “The oldest daughter, Connie, told me her father bought it on Christmas eve a few months earlier to cut down the Christmas tree.” He sighed heavily and suddenly things started to make sense. “Now I always associate the whole thing with Christmas… Never been able to put up a tree myself again.”

You gazed down at the floor, unable to look at your dad. You recalled the first year the two of you didn’t go to pick out a tree; how you’d found the ornaments in the trash and suddenly your dad began giving you gifts on New Year Eve instead of Christmas day. You always assumed that he thought you’d outgrown the holiday- you knew that Santa wasn’t real and reindeer couldn’t fly. Snowmen didn’t come to life if you gave them a magic hat and the north pole was just a place full of snow instead of candy forests and elves that built toys.

You’d attributed his sadness on Christmas day to the fact that you were getting older, but the whole time it was because he was mourning parents that would never get to see their children grow up and children who would have to grow up without their parents to take care of them.

“When we arrived on the scene, before any of the other units got there, I could hear them before I even got out of the car.” The look in your dad’s eyes was distant, as if he was still at the scene from long ago.

“It was a warm morning and the windows were open in the upstairs bedroom… And their voices floated out into the street. They were crying and calling for their mommy and daddy.” You’d never heard your father so close to tears. “Three terrified children, screaming for their murdered parents. I've seen so much death and pain, but that sound… It's been twenty years and I can still hear them screaming every night, crying.”

You’d known your dad had nightmares occasionally- it came with the job- but it had been so long since you lived under his roof, you’d wondered if they had gotten worse as time went on. You wondered if, just like an unsub could be triggered by an anniversary, a profiler could too.

“If I can't tell them for sure that whoever’s responsible will never do it again, that screaming might never stop.”

Your dad finished off his drink and you, JJ, Morgan, and Prentiss looked around at one another. You’d been quiet for a while now, letting the rest of them do the talking while you sat with your memories and feelings, but now that you had processed everything you were ready to get to work.

“Well,” you said, looking at your dad. It was a good thing you’d gotten his stubbornness. “Let’s find who’s responsible for it then.”

---

It was easy enough for Garcia to find out where the children were living now, and before you knew it, Morgan was pulling up to the house and the team was getting out of the SUV, ready to face the case that had haunted David Rossi for two decades.

“Hi, Connie,” he greeted the oldest daughter. She couldn’t have been that much older than you. No wonder this case had hit him so hard. “I brought the team-”

“You need to stop this!” It was almost as if she was begging.

“Excuse me?”

“We thought that if we didn’t call you back the last couple of times you would just give up and leave us alone,” she said, her voice unsettled.

“Well, I know that it hurts, but I’m only trying to make sure someone pays for your parents’ deaths.” After nearly six months at the BAU, you’d never heard Rossi be so gentle with someone. The last time he used that tone was when he talked to you after Gideon left.

“We don’t care anymore!” Connie stressed. “It’s been twenty years. We need to be able to move past it, please!”

Your dad had always been a pusher, so when he responded with “I won’t bother you kids again,” and turned to get back into the car it surprised you a little. Part of you wanted to push for him.

“And you’ll stop it with the gifts too?!” That made all of you pause and turn back towards the family.

“Gifts?” The wheels in your dad’s head were beginning to turn.

“What are we supposed to do with a bunch of toys that remind us of the worst day of our lives?”

Rossi paused, his stare pointed at the girl with the intensity of the agent you knew he was. “I never sent you any gifts.”

Within ten minutes the three kids, who were now all adults, compiled the toys they had been mysteriously given over the years. You put on a set of rubber gloves and began to inspect them. You automatically knew your dad would never send toys like these to anyone- the material was falling apart in your hands, the stitching easily ripped, and they smelled like chemicals from a warehouse. One of them even left colorful dye on your gloves. Rossi was a best selling author, but even before that he’d always had expensive taste. Your own favorite childhood toy was an FAO Schwarz Teddy Bear that was older than this case and was still in decent condition- considering how much the stuffed animal had been through.

“See, an unsub like this, when they seek out children, they want to play with them,” Morgan explained. “They don’t really want to hurt them, but it’s their size- it frightens people.”

You stood up and stripped off your gloves. Done inspecting the evidence, you looked over at your dad. “This could be that piece you were looking for.”

Soon enough Garcia had gone through crime records and the team was on the move, searching the grounds of a carnival. Rossi and Prentiss paired up while you, JJ, and Morgan inspected the grounds.

“I can’t believe people actually pay good money to play these fixed games,” Morgan said.

“Men,” JJ said blankly. You snorted.

“Excuse me?” said Morgan.

“It’s not people,” you clarified. “It’s men.”

“Is that a fact?” Morgan tried to seem unbothered, but you’d known him long enough to know he’d probably tried to impress several ladies by winning them prizes on impossible ring toss.

“Only a man would waste fifty dollars trying to win a three dollar stuffed animal,” JJ said.

Morgan huffed a little, but the three of you kept walking, looking for anyone who could possibly resemble the unsub you were looking for.

“Clown.” You spotted him, white make-up still half on his face and red smeared around his lips. Morgan and JJ looked in the direction you nodded in. The clown looked back at the three of you and promptly dropped his trash bag before walking off.

The three of you went to look for him, trying not to look too threatening or suspicious. It didn’t take long for Morgan to spot the man’s discarded broom near a covered platform. Drawing your side arm and preparing for the possibility of a fight, JJ pulled down the cover to reveal the unsub hiding like a small child. It took you and Morgan combined to get him out from under the platform and cuffed. JJ kept her side arm ready just in case while Rossi restrained the unsubs father and Emily aided you and Morgan.

You took a moment to look over at your dad, but he was looking at the unsub- the man who he had spent twenty years trying to find. You expected him to look relieved, at least a little bit, but more than anything Rossi looked disturbed, as if he truly couldn’t believe that someone who had done such a horrible thing had a right to exist on earth. He should have been nothing more than a speck of dirt on your Papa’s spotless shoes, but he was a monster in the shape of a man- the reason three children had screamed for their dead parents; the reason your father heard their screams every night. And when your dad looked at you, you knew that he was thinking about twenty years worth of Christmas’s lost- twenty years worth of childhood and twenty years worth of memories.

At least you could make up for them now.

---

The jet was quiet- JJ filling out the paperwork to make the case official, Morgan with his headphones, and Prentiss with a book. Everyone except your dad was busy with something. He was just looking out the window, lost in thought.

You closed the file you were working on and moved to the other side of the jet, sitting across from him. He looked over at you, breaking his gaze away from the clouds.

“Mio passerotta,” he said, a smile in his voice. “You did a good job today.”

The compliment surprised you. Really you had done no more than the rest of the team, but the way your dad looked at you was different than he had before- like he was seeing you as more than a kid and more than an agent. He was seeing you as both.

“You know, I really wish you had told me,” you said. “Maybe not when I was little, but before you threw your files all over your office and we had to fly two hours to find out why.”

“Well,” he sighed. “Now you know.”

“And now you know why we work as a team,” you said.

He nodded once, slowly. “I guess I do,” he said. “But, mio passerotta, you and I have always been a team.”

“Does this mean you’ll start treating me like a team member?”

“It does,” he confirmed. “But you’ll still always be my daughter.”

You smiled. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

---

The mood was light walking back into the bullpen, and you felt yourself brighten even more when you saw that Spencer was back. Every ounce of you wanted to run up and embrace him. The past twenty four hours had been an emotional roller coaster and your body craved to be pressed against his. Spencer must have known, because when you walked over to his desk, he took your hand lightly and planted a soft kiss on your knuckles before answering Morgan’s question and directing Rossi to his office where Kevin was waiting for him.

“Just when I thought nothing scandalous was ever going to happen around here.” Emily smirked as your dad closed his office door to talk to Kevin in private.

“What?” Your husband looked confused. “What does that mean?” Then he looked up at you- an inter-BAU marriage was rather scandalous in theory, but you and Spencer were so tame in front of everyone that it really didn’t count.

“Didn’t you hear JJ?” Emily said.

“The song meant something? No- no I missed it,” Spencer began to ramble.

“It-it-” Emily sighed. “You know what, never mind.” She sat down at her desk.

“What?” Spencer looked towards Rossi’s office.

You touched his hand lightly, still leaning against his desk. “I’ll explain it when we get home, Spencer,” you told him. He nodded, but then went back to gaping at the closed door.

You looked up too- seeing that Hotch was in his office. Normally you would have gone to say hello and maybe tease him about having missed all the fun, but even from where you sat you could tell that he was far more distressed than normal. The papers he was holding weren’t just from a case. They were personal.

Your phone vibrated in your pocket and you pulled it out, expecting a text from Garcia, or maybe Morgan. But when you saw the name on the screen your stomach dropped. With shaking hands, you opened the message:

From Haley Hotchner:

I want you to be a part of Jack’s life. You’re an amazing person, (Y/N). I love you and Jack loves you. You’re right that he shouldn’t have to grow up like you did, with only one parent to rely on, but Aaron needs to figure that out himself.

“Mio amata?” Spencer said low enough so that Emily couldn’t hear. “Are you alright?”

You shoved your phone in your pocket. “Tesoro,” you whispered, holding back tears. “Portami a casa?”

Spencer grabbed your go-bag and his satchel, his eyes wide and sympathetic with understanding. “Let’s go home.”

---

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docholligay · 2 months

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The Last Unicorn by Peter S. Beagle

I came to this book with a not-insignificant amount of baggage and decided to read it anyway. Or, let it go through, rather. And it got drawn. This book, I know, is on a lot of people's favorite lists, which always carries with it a pressure, and I know most of those people experienced it as a child, which always makes me suck my teeth a little, because we all carry the weight of nostalgia with us when evaluating things we grew up with. Also, there was once major cheating trying to get this book into contention for Eight Days.

But, I read it anyway. This is a great kids' book. I know it was written before children's literature was as much a thing, and so it's slippery to define--the only reason it's very easy with Watership Down is the author was pretty clear that he wrote these stories for his daughters--but this is a children's book. It is a very very good children's book. I do sometimes have issue with the way that any time a book is sufficiently good, you see people say it's not for children. There are also excellent, well plotted, heartfelt children's books. Watership Down, Bridge to Terabithia, Tuck Everlasting, there are books that are written for children that resonate, and have meaning, and it is a mistake, and not kind to children, to assume all they can enjoy is pablum and power fantasies.

ANYWAY YES THAT IS MY NON-SPOILERY TAKE. This is an excellent children's book, and I will absolutely read it to Jewlet as she gets older. If this were NOT a children's book, and/or I was in a saucy little mood, I think I would be harder on it. I mean even technically any time I am recommended a children's book as a grown-ass woman, I am meant to take the recommendation as such, but this is such a GREAT children's book I gave it a pass I would not give a lesser one.

Spoilers below the cut

There are so many little things for a kid to take away from this, but it never feels like it's teaching a lesson, and I think it's all the more valuable for that. For example, at the end of the book, with the unicorn, this children's introduction to what it means to KNOW.

What the fuck do you mean by that, Holligay? I've been thinking over and over again about the end, and how she is not like other unicorns, can never be like other unicorns again, and I really like that. Sometimes, you know things your peers do not know. Sometimes, things have touched you that have not yet touched them, may never. It separates you, in some ways, from people. Not totally, but there is always something that feels different when they don't know the things you know. Hard concept to explain to a kid, hard concept to explain to an adult. Well done here.

Oh god, probably one of the more Doc moments of all: "The Bull's nought but a pet name you give your cowardice" what a great moment, and how correct. How many times are we all so guilty of the same? That the big bad is actually us breaking in the face of our fear, the same as the unicorn being driven into the sea, and on that note, I think it is important, and I love, that the Bull was all about FEAR. So far as i can tell, the Bull couldn't do jack shit to the Unicorn, but he could frighten all of them. It is fear that keeps beauty, and magic, and truth, in the bottom of the sea. This is something I would go over with Jewlet, what do we think about the fact that the secret, after all this time, was to be very brave? To refuse to stand down? Maybe fucking Cully could have done it, we don't know because the fear of what the Bull COULD DO, that just became a mask for cowardice.

Hm, other things: I love the idea that Schmendrick's reward for finding his magic is mortality, because to be able to die is a beautiful thing. It is the tragedy of the unicorn that she can't, in part. The skull says it's not good to have time. "Rush, scramble, desperation, this missed, that left behind, those others too big to fit into such a small space--that's the way life was meant to be. You're supposed to be late for some things. Don't worry about it." I love this especially within the fantasy landscape of the time this was written in, where we're still FAIRLY happy with the idea of The Undying being a reward, and immortality a boon.

There's something I really like about the spider who believes herself to be Ariadne, but I can't quite put my finger on it.

ANYWAY THIS IS NOT PROFESSIONALLY COMPOSED ENJOY

#doc reads

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cloudlessly-light · 7 months

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heyy could i request something jotchniss

sub jj , sub emily and dom hotch ?? thank you love ur writing :))

A/N: Hey Anon! I know you asked for sub JJ, but I can’t for the life of me picture JJ as a sub, so I hope switch/sub JJ is okay! This one also is a little more Jemily than I usually write, but I wanted to switch things up.

Title: Don’t lose your focus Summary: After JJ and Will split up, JJ feels lost for a long time, luckily for her, she finds exactly what she needs with Aaron and Emily. Word Count: 4,4k Rating: Explicit Warnings: Smut, oral, threesome, restraints, sex toys, anal, double penetration, Dom Aaron, Switch JJ, sub JJ, sub Emily

When Will and JJ decided to split up, she was lost for a long time. Her life became Henry and the BAU, splitting time between trying to be the best mother she could be while also balancing her work that she had no intention of leaving. They decided to split their time with Henry, shifting days and weeks to make it work for both Will and JJ but it was hard, it was harder than she’d wanted to admit.

For a long time after, JJ felt like half a person, like something was missing. She felt guilty because she wasn’t spending enough time with her son, felt a longing for something besides being a single mother. She loved Henry with everything she had, and the guilt for feeling like it wasn’t enough was an everlasting presence.

But JJ and Will make it work. A year passes, then another one and Henry is turning 4 and JJ has almost been able to ignore the itch that something was missing.

And then that night happens.

She’s spending an evening at Aaron and Emily’s house. They had been together for almost two years now, happy in a way that makes something ache in JJ’s chest. The jealousy was bitter on her tongue, the feeling of possibly never having the kind of happiness that her friends had a realization she’d rather not have. She pretends that she doesn’t feel something warm in her belly when Emily looks at her a certain way, or that Aaron’s heavy, warm hand on her shoulder doesn’t give her goosebumps. She didn’t want to admit that she felt something more than friendship towards them, she had ignored those feelings for so long that it felt like second nature by now.

But then Emily kisses her. It’s soft and so sudden that JJ steps back with wide eyes searching brown ones.

“What are you doing?” She asked just as Aaron came to wrap an arm around Emily’s waist.

“I think she kissed you.” He answers before Emily has the chance to, an unfamiliar look in his eye that made her gulp. “Did you like it?”

She looked between them, from the amused smirk on Aaron’s face to Emily’s dark stare, her bottom lip tucked between her teeth and JJ couldn’t lie to them.

“Yes.” She breathed and she swore she saw them both relax slightly. Aaron took her hand, tugged her closer and Emily’s soft hands landed on her hips. For a moment she was lost in them, confused and excited as Aaron leaned a little closer to her.

“Should she do it again?” He asked and JJ is nodding before she can think about it. Emily’s lips are more insistent that time, soft and careful but an urgency behind her kiss. When they break apart and JJ looks between the pair she feels like the part of her that she’s been missing, finally fell into place.

That night she ends up spending hours in their bed, watches the way Emily submits to Aaron, how Aaron worships her, studies the different ways they bring pleasure to each other. And to her. It’s a new world, until them she had never been one to explore. But they come along and it’s like a buffet of pleasure that they lay at her feet.

In hindsight it shouldn’t have surprised her that Aaron had a thing about control even in bed, it shouldn’t have made her pause that Emily gave herself utterly and completely to him. That their trust led to exploration of pain and pleasure.

Aaron teaches her how and where to hit the whip across pale skin, Emily watches with hazy eyes as JJ gives herself to Aaron. She never knew she had a thing about control as well, not until she got to experience it herself.

With Aaron, she was never in control. With Emily, she always was.

“I’m giving you my permission to use her.” Aaron had whispered against the shell of her ear. “Poor thing needs two people to tell her what to do.” His hand wraps in her blonde hair and pulls harshly, causing a breathy moan to fall from her lips. “But at the end of the day you know who owns you, don’t you?”

“You do.” She gasped and she felt his grin, feral and dark against her neck.

It’s new, it’s exciting, it’s exactly what she needs.

She lets herself fall in love with them, explores what it means to be in a relationship with not one person, but two. And she’s never been happier.

It’s another year and they all live together, not caring what people might think because they were happy, they were working.

JJ is sifting through files in her office when the door closes and she looks up to find her girlfriend leaning against the dark wood, a familiar look on her face.

“Do you need something?” She arches an amused eyebrow when Emily shakes her head and pushes off from the door.

“I’m bored.” She says as she sits on the edge of JJ’s desk.

“We’re at work. Why can’t you enjoy a slow day?” JJ muses as she stands from her chair and fits herself between her spread legs. “Does Aaron know you’re in here?”

“Nope.” Emily grins as JJ grabs her hips and squeezed. She pulled her closer by wrapping her legs around her slim waist. “He’s in a mood.”

“Is he now?” JJ smirked when Emily nodded, her dark eyes already focused on her lips. “And it has nothing to do with the fact that you’ve been acting like a brat since this morning?” One hand moves from her hip to tangle in dark hair and she tugs hard enough for Emily to hiss. JJ places soft kisses up the column of her throat. “He’s already texted me everything you’ve been doing, and what we’re going to do with you when we get home.”

Emily whimpers at her words, fear and excitement in equal measure spreading through her.

“And he also told me that if you came in here trying to distract me, to tell him.” JJ keeps one hand tangled in her hair while picking up her phone with the other, quickly sending a message to Aaron. “And we both know that I’m his good girl.” JJ nips at her throat before stepping away from the brunette, leaving her dazed and aroused.

“JJ-” Emily tries reaching for her but she barely has time to stand from the desk before Aaron is walking through the door with an angered expression on his face.

“What did I tell you about leaving your desk?” He walks towards Emily and easily pushes her to her knees on the floor. Then he reaches for JJ and kisses her. “I knew I could count on you, sweet girl.” He whispers against her lips and she feels her cheeks heating and lips tug upwards at the praise. When Aaron looks down at Emily any trace of softness is gone and he scowls. “Pathetic, aren’t you?”

Emily looks up at them with wide eyes, a flush creeping from her cheeks and down her chest. She licked over her bottom lip as she nodded, wordlessly agreeing to his harsh words. But JJ knew how much she loved it, how much she craved it.

“Please Aaron-”

“Quiet.” He ordered and stepped back from her, urging JJ to follow him. He looked at Emily kneeling on the dirty floor of JJ’s office, still sometimes not believing his luck, that both Emily and JJ both gave him this, that they trusted him enough to do so. “JJ will think of a suitable punishment once we get home.”

She can’t ignore the tingle down her spine when she hears the way Emily tries to muffle a moan.

JJ and Emily get home earlier than Aaron that day and JJ plans to take full advantage of that fact. She hasn’t stopped touching Emily since they got in the car, let her hand linger on her thigh or tangled in her hair, drew her nails up and down her arm. Emily was always so receptive, breathy sighs and low moans, pale skin flushed as her eyes pleaded for more.

“Get the strap.” JJ orders and she sees the way Emily tries to hide her excitement and she smirks. She gets undressed while waiting for her girlfriend to find the harness and dildo and watches in amusement as Emily tries handing them to her.

“Get naked and put it on.” She almost chuckles at the way Emily’s eyebrows rise high on her forehead. Emily almost never wore the strap, but JJ had plans.

“Why?” She asked and JJ grabbed her jaw with just enough pressure for it to hurt.

“Because I’m telling you to. Because you clearly think that misbehaving is the way to get you what you want.” She tightens her grip and Emily hisses at the pain. “And because I fucking said so.” She all but spat the words in her girlfriends’ face, she didn’t let go until she was nodding in her hold and JJ pressed a kiss to her lips. When they broke apart Emily’s eyes were hooded, her tongue sneaking out to lick her bottom lip and taste JJ.

She watched as Emily undressed, a look of uncertainness on her face and JJ couldn’t help the low hum of amusement. She let her gaze follow the harness up smooth thighs, lingered on the fake cock bouncing between Emily’s legs as she walked slowly towards the bed.

“Lay down.” JJ instructed while pulling out the leather cuffs and then straddled her girlfriend’s waist. She smiled when her center pressed against Emily’s stomach, the brunette clearly feeling the wetness on her skin and she whimpered. She fastened her wrists in each cuff, spreading them wide apart before moving off the bed again to take in the vision of Emily tied down with a look close to desperate on her face.

“Baby-” She started as she watched the blonde at the end of the bed. “I need you.”

JJ scoffed, the sound sarcastic as it fell from her lips.

“This isn’t about you.” She said and Emily slumped slightly. “You’ve been greedy, we have treated you too good.” She moved around the room, grabbed lube and then climbed back on the bed. “So until Aaron comes home, you will lie here and you will let me use that gorgeous body of yours until I’ve had my fill. You will be quiet, you won’t touch, you’ll be good, for once in your life.” JJ gently caressed a flushed cheek, then leaned down to let her lips graze Emily’s. “Is that clear?”

“Yes.” She breathed, her entire body already hot, arousal pulsing between her legs but she resisted pushing her legs together to relieve some of the ache. She moaned quietly when JJ kissed her, opened her lips to an insistent tongue and when she pulled away, Emily almost whimpered at the loss. She watched as JJ smeared the lube on the fake cock, her eyes zeroed in on the way it looked huge as the blonde straddled it.

JJ slowly sunk down on the toy, let her body get used to the delicious stretch. She moaned, her eyes closing as she settled over her girlfriend, a lazy smile on her face as she did.

“Fuck, that feels good.” She whispered and Emily bit her bottom lip in response. She started to roll her hips, then lifted herself up and down and when she moaned louder Emily’s hands balled into fists. JJ knew that this was torture for her, that Emily loved to touch, loved to bring her pleasure. She was watching JJ with pleading eyes, the brown orbs so dark, pupils blown wide and it only made her move her hips faster.

Emily couldn’t keep her eyes off JJ, from the way blue eyes rolled back, to the parted lips, watched how her thighs tensed with each movement, how her abs clenched as she rode her faster. She could feel the need to touch only grow, wanted to wrap her lips around pink nipples and grab onto blonde hair and feel the way she would clench around her fingers.

She was moving faster, hips twitching as the pleasure built inside of her. She rubbed her clit and shuddered as her head fell back.

“You’re such a good toy for me to use.” She panted and Emily buckled up in return, clearly trying to get some relief on her clit. “So good for me.” She rubbed her clit faster as her hips grinded onto the toy.

“Fuck!” Emily moaned before she could stop, the base of the dildo pressed right against her clit with each movement of JJ’s hips.

If she hadn’t been so close she would have stopped, would have stuffed something in Emily’s mouth as a reminder to keep quiet, but she could feel her orgasm building and her need for release was bigger than her need to punish. She leaned over her girlfriend, steadying herself with one hand next to Emily’s head as she continued to ride the dildo, blue eyes locked on brown.

“Fuck you’re so pretty.” She gasped as Emily whimpered. “You look so pretty when you’re this desperate.” The cuffs rattled against the headboard and JJ felt Emily push up against her again and it was the last push she needed to crash into an intense blur of pleasure. Her body trembled as her hips jerked desperately against Emily. She gasped, her forehead landing on Emily’s shoulder as she let her orgasm wash through her until all that was left was the subtle quivers. She let herself relax for a little bit and only sat up when Emily squirmed slightly.

“JJ, please.” Her voice was thick with want and JJ lifted her head with a grin on her face.

“I’m going to sit on your face and you’re going to make me come again.” She chuckled when Emily nodded quickly and then carefully sat up again, then moved off the toy. The silicone was covered in her slick and Emily’s eyes widened at the sight. JJ unclasped the cuffs, a small reward for her and then removed the harness before settling above Emily’s face.

She was quick to wrap her arms around JJ’s strong thighs, let her hands trail up and down smooth skin and sighed happily at finally getting to touch her. When she tasted JJ’s arousal she moaned, the sound muffled as she settled above her. Her tongue moved through slick folds, dipped inside of her and JJ gasped, her hips slowly rocking against her tongue.

She sucked her clit, kept JJ against her with a firm hold around her thighs. She wanted her to come on her tongue and she didn’t let up until JJ was grinding onto her face.

Sometimes it amazed JJ how quickly Emily could make her come, but only a few minutes later she was moaning and gasping. She fell forward as she came, Emily’s tongue insistent on her clit, drawing out the pleasure for as long as possible.

Emily didn’t stop licking and sucking on her clit until JJ had relaxed, only then she dipped her tongue inside of her, still feeling the way her pussy was clenching.

“Good girl.” JJ moaned and sat up again. She could see Emily slick on her thighs and she smirked to herself. “Again.”

Emily whimpered, her brain hazy from arousal, her clit aching and pulsing. JJ still hadn’t touched her and she was going insane. But she loved bringing both her lovers pleasure, so she happily pushed her tongue deeper inside of JJ, a low whimper escaping at the heat of her. She alternated licking over her clit and dipping her tongue inside of her and JJ’s moans slowly got breather and louder.

“Just like that.” JJ whispered, her eyes closing at the pleasure her girlfriend was causing as she built her up again. When she opened them only a few moments later, Aaron was standing in the doorway, watching them with a smirk.

“Somone’s been having fun I see.” He said, eyes moving from the harness on the floor to JJ’s flushed face. He walked across the room and JJ leaned forward, supporting herself on Emily’s hips as Aaron leaned down to kiss her. His hands were warm as he trailed them down her body, fingers rough when he tweaked her nipples, earning a gasp from her.

“Is she making you feel good?” Aaron could see the pleasure on her body, could tell that she was close to coming and JJ nodded.

“She’s so good with her mouth.” JJ’s eyes rolled back when Emily sucked her clit hard.

“I know she is.” Aaron cooed as he started to undress. “How many times has she made you come?”

“Twice.”

“But almost three times now.” He smirked as JJ’s body started to tense. “How many times has Emily come?”

“None.” JJ forced out, barely able to listen to his dark voice as she got closer. “She hasn’t earned it.”

Aaron chuckled as he pulled off his boxers. He was already hard just from watching them, his hand fisting his cock and slowly rubbing it.

“She must be desperate by now.” He kneeled on the bed and JJ forced herself not to come just at the sight of him in front of her. “Show me how we she is.”

She pulled Emily’s thighs wide apart and she felt the moan vibrate against her clit. Emily hated when they talked about her like she wasn’t there and they knew it, they also knew that it only made her wetter.

“My my…” Aaron’s smirk was dark when he saw just how wet she was. He climbed closer to them, settled between Emily’s thighs and let his cock fall onto her clit. “What are we going to do to you?”

“Fuck, fuck-” JJ’s desperate moans caused him to look up and he grabbed her blonde hair in a tight fist.

“Come on, let go and come on her tongue.” He kept his hold on her hair as JJ came with a strangled groan. Her eyes closed tight as her hips buckled and then Aaron kissed her, swallowing up her moan.

“That’s my girl.” He mumbled against her lips, only letting her fall to the side of Emily’s body after she had stopped trembling. He watched fondly as JJ laid down beside Emily, her breathing still heavy and eyes glazed over. Then he looked at Emily, who was licking her lips, obviously still tasting JJ on them. She was panting too, her body covered in sweat.

“Gorgeous, both of you.” He mumbled and grabbed the base of his cock. He slapped the tip of it against Emily clit and she jerked with a breathy whine.

“Please, please touch me.” She pleaded and he chuckled.

“Look at you, even begging for it. Looks like JJ has done a good job putting you in your place.” He slapped his cock against her swollen clit again, the sound obscene. “Put on the harness, baby.”

JJ smiled widened and she moved from the bed, quickly adjusting the harness and getting back on the bed. She was tired, her body sated from the orgasms she’d already had, she knew that Aaron could tell as he kept slapping his cock against Emily who’s whimpers only got louder and breathier.

“Lay back, you deserve the rest.” He winked at her and bit back a smile as she laid back beside Emily who was fisting the bedding to keep from reaching out or taking matters into her own hands.

“Aaron, ah-” Whatever Emily was going to say died on her lips when Aaron suddenly slapped his hand on her clit and her thighs closed automatically.

“While I do think it would be fun watching you come just like this, I want your ass tonight.” Aaron mused casually, ignoring that Emily was grinding into his hand until he slapped it again, the sound loud as Emily let out a sound somewhere stuck between pain and pleasure. “Ride her, show us how much you need it.” With those words, he moved back enough for Emily to scramble to her hands and knees, and easily straddled JJ’s slim hips.

JJ’s hand rested on Emily’s thighs as she sat down fully, taking the entire dildo in one smooth thrust.

“You didn’t even need lube.” She smirked at the gasp that fell from Emily’s lips as she started to move. She pushed her hips up, earning a loud moan from her girlfriend as she found a pace. But she didn’t get to enjoy the sight for long, soon enough Aaron was behind them, pushing Emily down until she was laying down flat against JJ.

JJ kept her eyes on Emily’s face as Aaron slowly pushed inside her ass, she loved the look of somewhat pained pleasure on her face, loved when Emily took both of them and she knew that they did too.

“Oh my God…” Emily sucked in a breath and burrowed her face in JJ’s neck as she adjusted. Aaron was stroking calming hands over her ribs and back, JJ was holding her thighs as they gave her a few moments. “Move, please move.” She panted and Aaron was the first to pull out, setting the pace as he fucked into her with a growl.

“Perfect, my perfect girls.” He caught JJ’s eye over Emily’s shoulder and smirked at the way her mouth had fallen open. He thrusted harder and both women moaned as Emily was pushed down on the dildo that pressed against JJ’s clit.

They found a rhythm, Aaron fucking into Emily and JJ weakly pushing up against her, too tired to do much else, but it was more than enough. Emily was moaning and groaning, her senses overwhelmed from being denied for so long to feeling everything. She bit down on JJ’s shoulder, knew that she was bruising her skin but didn’t care. She was already close to the edge, getting there quickly to no one’s surprise.

“You can come.” Aaron grunted behind her before she even had the chance to ask. His lips were hot against her ear, his stubble rough against her and it was perfect. She tried moving between them, her hips jerking as she got closer and closer, until finally she came with a scream.

JJ gasped when Emily tensed above her, felt her body tremble as she came with her and Aaron’s name on her tongue. She caught Aaron’s satisfied grin as he peppered kisses along Emily’s shoulder and neck, not stopping his heavy thrusting until Emily was coming down with heavy breaths.

“JJ,” He said as he moved higher on his knees and she looked up at him with wide eyes. “Do you want to watch for a bit, rest?”

“Yes, please.” She loved watching her lovers together, loved that Aaron knew that.

Emily whined when Aaron slipped out of her, his hands warm as he helped her off JJ’s lap and onto her back again. She reached out to hold JJ’s hand just as Aaron pushed back inside her ass and her eyes closed in pleasure.

“Look at me.” Aaron mumbled and two sets of eyes looked up at him. “You can touch her freely.” He said to JJ who rolled onto her side, pressing against Emily’s body and letting go of her hand. “And you can come as much as you want to.” He looked to Emily who smiled gratefully at him. He loved to bring them both over the edge as many times as possible, but giving either of them free range like this was unusual.

Emily’s train of thought came to and end when JJ’s fingers pressed inside of her, the palm of her hand grinding against her clit just as Aaron started to thrust harder inside of her, making her bite her lip to keep from screaming out too loudly.

“She’s already clenching.” JJ said in awe, she loved that Emily always came so easily for them.

“You wound her up good, baby.” Aaron told her through slightly labored breathing. He moved to grab Emily’s hips in a tight grip, leaving new bruises over old ones as he thrust as hard as he could. He had been longing for them for hours so he knew he wouldn’t last long.

“Fuck I love watching you.” JJ whimpered as she looked between Aaron’s strong body and Emily’s trembling one. “You’re so close, again.”

“Yes, yes fuck yes.” Emily pulled JJ down for a rough kiss, her soft lips muffling the needy moans. When they broke apart she looked up at Aaron. “Kiss me?”

Aaron smiled at the simple request, that in a moment that was anything but tender, Emily would crave something so simple as a kiss. He leaned down and pressed his lips against hers, a low groan rumbling in his chest when JJ’s nails scratched through his hair and keeping him against Emily.

“Come again, sweetheart.” He mumbled when they broke apart and he was back to kneeling between her legs. Her ass clenched around him hard and JJ’s hand moved faster and Emily wouldn’t have been able to hold back even if she tried to. She came again with a cry of pleasure, her back arching and eyes closed tight as she gave in to the pleasure.

“That’s it, that’s it honey.” JJ mumbled against her ear, her hand slowing but not stopping as Aaron continued to fuck into her. She could feel his cock, could feel Emily’s clamping walls and she felt a rush of arousal settle between her legs.

They didn’t stop, Emily coming two more times until Aaron was grunting his pleasure against JJ’s lips as he spurted inside Emily. They were a mess of sweaty limbs and harsh breaths and pleasured daze as they laid tangled on the bed after.

“How about we shower, and then we’re doing that again?” Aaron smiled as JJ nodded on his left and Emily hummed happily on his right.

It was strange, how time could change everything but JJ had never been happier that it had.

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thechaoticdruid · 2 months

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Winnie is such a cute Tav name!!

Awe thank you! My friends think I named her after Winnie the Pooh, but actually it comes from an old book I read in middle school called 'Tuck Everlasting'. I barely remember anything about that book besides the main character's name being Winnie/Winnifred and I kinda fell in love with the idea of using it for a female character. Used it for some older OCS that never saw the light of day.

Then low and behold I get BG3 and I'm like "uh....What do I name my character.....uh...uh...Oh Winnie, yes!"

This kinda turned into a storytime all of a sudden, but anyway thanks again!^^

#My ADD got a hold of me again.#But I needed an excuse to state that Winnie is not a bear that likes honey.#That's Halsin #Winnie is a wolf that likes cheese #lol #my tav #bg3 Tav #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #oc tav winnie #tav oc #Winnifred The Druid

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pealeii · 11 months

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what is tuck everlasting i know that akb was in it and there's a family and they're like immortal or smth???? and it had a criminally short broadway run cos hamilton idk. i'm considering getting into it. feel free to infodump!! (i'm not too worried about spoilers)

OH I AM CRYING THANK YOU

Yes, Tuck Everlasting is a musical about a family who drank from a spring that made them immortal, and a young girl who meets them. It’s about the value, beauty, and importance of life, and that it matters because it ends. This ties into the family being immortal because life is not life if you are stuck in immorality. It is amazing!!! This musical illustrates it in such beautiful ways - but the most poignant is a ballet at the end that goes through all the aspects pf a life - highs, lows, birth, death. It is heartbreakingly powerful and simply gorgeous.

But it doesn’t even stop there. The script is also so funny and witty like (“Nothing hurts us!” “Not physically anyway.” | “Came here as fast as we could!” “Fast as molasses…”) And there’s this whole song about how you can’t trust men in yellow suits and it’s genuinely the funniest thing I have ever heard.

And the characters!! It has one of the most genuine depictions of a family - including an old married couple who still finds joy in their relationship! It also has autistic deputy boy. Need I say more.

And also the rest of the soundtrack are BANGERS. It has this wonderful folksy sound, with fiddles and unconventional percussion, and it also goes a little hoedown at times. And I am a SUCKER for dance breaks, and this musical is not short of them. From beautiful waltzes, to jazzy swing, and bombastic flips - all equally fun and impressive.

And it’s true the cast is wildly talented! It’s kinda crazy how much variety of skill they got. You have Broadway legends like Terrence Mann and Carolee Carmello, fresh faces like Sarah Charles Lewis and Michael Wartella, strong male actors like Michael Park and Robert Lenzi, and a subset of bway actors I like to call Newsies - Andrew Keenan Bolger and Ben Cook. (Also Jeremy Jordan and Mike Faist were possibly going to work on this show!!)

Honestly I could go on for years…unLIKE ITS BROADWAY RUN I WANT JUSTICE

#thank you anon!#lord this show #omigosh #tuck everlasting #tuck everlasting the musical #tuck everlasting musical #musical theatre #terrence mann #carolee carmello #Michael park #michael wartella #sarah charles lewis #andrew keenan bolger #ben cook #robert lenzi #answered asks #asks

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bearswithpartyhats · 1 year

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GOOFY GUY SILLY BILLY MY FAVORITE SO CUTE

Yes I do extremely relate to Hugo Jackson from the Tuck Everlasting musical, what about it?

#tuck everlasting #hugo jackson #tuck everlasting the musical #drawing #sketch

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owlish-owlhouse · 2 years

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Maybe something about reader adjusting to their new life as a vampire? You’re taking it better than he expected, though it’s still a sudden change… and maybe the idea of getting to stay with Philip forever excites you more than it should, given all that you know about him…

Tagging @the-enchanted-archivist because I'm a menace and Yandere Philip Vampire brain rot has taken over my life and ask box

...

As Philip held you close to his chest he was relieved you had finally stopped convulsing. Your need to breath was no longer a necessity but he listened to your shallow breaths and pants as you laid limp in his arms from the after effects of his venom. You no longer had a beating heart and while he'd miss the sound it was worth the sacrifice.

You were processing he could tell as you hadn't spoken. Shifting you he was afraid to look you in your eyes after the transformation so as you sat in his lap he hid his face in your neck. Just for a moment longer he wanted to enjoy this. His nose brushed the fresh bite wound before he nuzzled it softly, lips giving you cold kisses to soothe the bite.

Both your necks were bloody. Your neck from his bite and his neck from your first feeding. Feeling euphoria at the realization that this was happening that you were forever his, he gently kissed your new bite again, softly sucking when it leaked blood which made you shiver.

He smirked at that, your shivers and whimpers. While yes the process was painful and agonizing to go through both of your blood was now running through each other's veins, your everlasting connection was complete. Still dazed and panting from your transformation he tenderly licked your fresh bite before leaving a trail of kisses across your neck and shoulder. When he finally pulls away he wipes at his mouth with his puff sleeve smiling softly.

"You taste delicious my dear." He teases before his hand comes to stroke your face. You didn't respond and had yet to say anything, simply staring off into space as you breathed deeply. Frowning in worry he strokes your cheek hoping for a reaction. You remain still.

"... I understand what you just experienced was very intense so we'll have to take this slowly. It'll be an adjustment I'm sure but together I promise we'll get through this-" Eyes widening as you lurch forward Philip grunts in surprise at the sudden action. You press your lips to his in a passionate yet sloppy kiss and he moans into your mouth as he tastes his blood on your tongue. Your smell surrounds him and he becomes dizzy with pleasure as the kiss continues. As your hands bunch around his witch hunting jacket he pulls you close on instinct, always wanting to hold you close and never let go.

After the initial shock Philip goes to pull away and continue the previous conversation but when you grab him and pull him closer, new claws digging into his skin desperate to keep him there, he instead closes his eyes enjoying the intimate kiss. Your new fangs tap against his and he chuckles as you cling tighter to him yanking him close.

When you finally pull away his eyes flutter open and he stares at you entranced and breathless.

"That was... Unexpected." He hums before coughing into his hand face flushed red with embarrassment. While he gained his composure his other hand went from your back to your face so he can tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. His hand falls a moment later and rests to cradle your cheek. There's a soft look in his eyes as he observes you. His thumb brushes your cold skin and while he misses the warmth that was once there you being here with him forever made that guilt fade away. You were free to make your own choices but you were forever connected and he would always love you. "What are you feeling love? Be honest." He pleads softly as his blue eyes stare into your newly changed red ones.

Your gasping for air after the kiss, a small smile on your face as you look up at him snuggling closer as you straddle his lap. Leaning into his hands gentle touch you nuzzle his palm with a happy hum.

Philip fears your acting like a thrall and wonders if you had drank enough of his blood. He was more than willing to offer more but you seemed dazed and he doubted you'd be able to drink properly without help.

"Love." He repeats voice oh so soft as he observes you in your dazed state. You simply hum again before leaning forward capturing his lips in another kiss. He leans into it but you pull away a moment later. He's star struck as he stares at you, the love of his life.

"... I... I feel an eternity with you is all I've ever wanted." You admit softly and his undead heart flutters. You'd be the end of him but he'd have it no other way.

Together you would rule side by side until it was time to return to your true home and you'd be happy forever. No one could ever take that away. He'd burn the world to the ground if anyone ever tried. And as you kissed him again he smiled. Apparently so would you.

#vampire philip wittebane #vampire a.u #vampire philip #vampire belos #vampire reader #the owlhouse a.u #owlhouse a.u #toh philip wittebane #toh philip x reader #philip x reader #toh philip wittebane x reader #yandere philip wittebane #yandere philip #yandere vampire belos #yandere vampire philip wittebane #yandere emperor belos

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sapphicsandscience · 7 months

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Aster - Alternative (original)

Not sure if anyone here is reading Aster but before it turned into the long fic it is now I originally had a far shorter (and sadder) outline - sending JL and Bev of a journey of healing and rediscovery.

I didn’t end up going with it for a few reasons but had a few bits already written before I changed the direction of the fic.

So this is a little part of what I had written. Might one day expand this into a longer one-shot. But thought I should get it out of my drafts at least.

Content warnings in tags.

~~~~~

He found her on a hill.

Jean-Luc paused short of her. “Beverly…” he called out.

It was a hill that Jean-Luc knew well. It was only a short stroll from the house but far enough so it felt as if you had escaped - tucked away behind one of the vineyards - and in the direction of the setting sun. This was where his path had led him. His steps had brought him to Beverly as she stood on the hill, facing out, a glowing silhouette in the remaining daylight as dusk blanketed them both.

Eventually, he stepped forward and toward her. His voice was quiet and unassuming so as to not startle her. Though he suspected that she, as he would, had already felt his presence. “Are you - “

It was a silly question and he managed to hold the words in his mouth despite their bitter taste at this time. He would hold the bitterness and its pain forever if it would help her. However, it didn’t work like that.

Grief never did.

Of course, she was not alright. None of them were alright. Because he had seen this image before. Beverly standing in the view of an orange and pink blush that had lit up the sky. Though this time something was missing. It was hard to believe there has only been two months between that memory and this present - and in that time - that a life had come into existence and then left them behind.

Someone was missing. So small yet so felt.

Beverly’s shoulders dropped as he moved closer to her. “I was just thinking,” she said softly, gazing into the landscape ahead of them. “Taking in the view,” she turned to him with a gentle smile, though the light bounced around in her wet eyes as she looked at him.

He smiled back. “Penny?”

Beverly rested her head on his shoulder as she looked back out. “It is one of my favorite things - watching the stars while there is still light,” she uttered quietly. It was peaceful around them, nature was in balance, and there was no need to raise a voice. “Something is different about them in the dusk…the way they glimmer and move. And I know we have long reached them…but from down here they feel -”

“Untouchable,” he finished her sentence. “However, not in a way that is unpleasant. In a way that is -”

“Everlasting,” she said. “At least - in this perspective. As we stand here now.”

Jean-Luc nodded, wearing a small hole in the gravel with one of his feet as he stood. “You know, often as a child, I came to this very spot, at a similar time of day, and looked up at those very stars…”

“You looked for your mother,” she replied, a wind passing over them both as she spoke. Beverly wrapped her cardigan around her midsection tighter. “You told me the last time that I stood here,” the same gentle smile fell upon her lips - a sadness interlaced with the acceptance.

That they would smile again. Despite everything.

His throat tightened. “Yes.”

“And now. You can see them both.”

Jean-Luc tightened his arm around her, bringing her in as close as possible to his own body. As he had done so in those early hours. Tried to protect her against was what not going to be. Held her as she cried for a future they had both grown into and as she struggled to tell him just what was happening. They were hours that were now burnt into his mind. Hours that - beyond the science that grounded them both in their lives and careers - still brought him here now.

He looked up. And she followed his lead.

Aster.

A star. Among the many.

He felt Beverly swallow, her arms coming to cross around her chest. “It was something special,” she began to speak again. To him and the stars between them. This was for no one else. But their family. Something sacred. She exhaled shakily. “Our baby was special. Jean-Luc, I do not know if we could ever replicate that again. Or if I want to.”

He understood.

“This baby…our baby…did so much for us without taking his first breath. He taught me about myself and he would have taught me so much more. He brought us closer and gave me a glimpse of a future I had never imagined would be within my grasp. And for those weeks, it was, and I will treasure them forever. And I know that now, with him up there, I have all that I need to complete me, Beverly. As long as I am with you.”

#cw // miscarriage #fanfiction #hurt/comfort #aster #jean luc x beverly #picard x crusher

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wardenswateringhole · 22 hours

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Reclamation - Chapter 1

-death mention

Cut for length. Enjoy.

Keys twirled around Emmet’s finger as he walked toward his home. His mind sorted through several different lists in his head. All the paper work done? Check. Trains checked and secured? Check. Depot Agents debriefed and schedules made? Check.

When one list finished another began. Was the new hire squared away? Did they receive their required employee materials? Was their uniform going to be available on their first day? Yes, yes and Yes.

Did he need to go shopping? Milk and eggs were stocked. Maybe he should pick up some soda? No. Not this time. Did he need more batteries for the joltiks? Battery supplies were holding for now. Could pick up extra treats tomorrow. The team were doing an extra good job on the battle line. They deserved it.

Next list was ready. Could they do better? What strategies felt fun and new? Were they getting stale? Maybe it was time for a change. Would that bring more challengers? More challengers would be nice. Challenger numbers felt too low…

When was that meeting again? It’s written down somewhere. What was it about? Challenger numbers being too low. Share holders had a problem with that? Not sure why. Things were just fine.

There was no need to worry. None at all.

Emmets mental rambling came to a halt as the key jingled and the door to his home opened. A white coat and hat were hung with care and shoes were slipped off and place by the door. The tune of an overly energetic children’s show could be heard playing on a television deeper into the abode. The smell of spices and warm food wafted through the air pairing logically with the sounds of sizzling and chopping coming from the kitchen. “I’m home!” Emmet voice rang out through it all. An instant response of happy giggling and the sound of small footsteps rushing toward his location could be heard. Two young boys came around the corner, their faces bright and excited to see him. He made to kneel in greeting them before he noticed one was traveling far faster than the other. Emmet tried to stop the inevitable. “Emery! Wait! Brake--!” Emery lost his footing almost as soon as the words left Emmet’s mouth. The other boy watched on as Emery barreled straight into Emmet’s crotch, causing the tall man to crumple like paper. Emmet’s form flopped to the floor, curled in the fetal position and desperately pulling air into his lungs as the pain blurred his vision. He only vaguely made out the two silver headed forms standing over him. A small voice reached his ears through the blood roaring in them. “Sorry, Dad…” A third taller figure soon appeared. They waved the children away and leaned down to Emmet. Soon Emmet was being led to a sofa in the living room by the dark-haired figure. They were much shorter than him but still managed to support his weight. The smell of food clung to them. As he stretched out on the sofa, the children reappear carrying an icepack. She gently chided the rambunctious boy. “Emery, what have we said about slowing down and watching our step?” “Speed, not haste, Momma.” “That’s right.” Emmet’s voice croaked out. “Please drive more safely in the future…”

The boy nodded sullenly. Even though it was obvious he was sorry, his mouth still remained stretched in a smile. He was very much an almost exact copy of his father. The everlasting grin remaining plastered on his face through everything. The other child looked on with bright eyes and a thumb tucked firm in his mouth. He also sported the same hair and face as his brother and father. Unlike them however, his mouth stayed bowed in a frown. It usually stayed hidden behind the fist attached to the thumb he currently coveted. The boy tugged at Emery’s arm and pointed to a pile of papers and crayons in front of the TV. Emery’s face lit of instantly. “Great idea, Iggy! Let’s show dad what we made!” They scampered over and grabbed a couple of sheets before returning and holding them up proudly for Emmet to see. They were both drawings of the boys with Pokémon of various kinds riding on trains of dubious design. The one Emery held had a train that looked to have flames coming out of the smokestack, while the other looked like it shot electricity out of its wheels. “We’re gonna have a battle train just like you when we grow up! This is totally what it’s gonna look like!” Emmet raised his head and looked over the drawings with as much interest as he could muster. His voice was a bit less strained as the pain in his groin began to subside. “That’s great, boys! Yep! But which train will you two take?” The children turned the papers back toward themselves and inspected their work closely. Emery frowned as best as his face could let him. “We don’t know… Iggy says mine is better, but I like his more. We can’t decide.” “Hmm…” Emmet stared at his sons thoughtfully. He was incredibly thankful they had inherited his interest in trains. He didn’t know how he would have felt had they gained an interest in, Dragons forbid, planes. They carried a healthy interest in Pokémon as well, despite not being ready for their first Pokémon yet.

Above it all, Emmet could not get over how much the pair looked exactly like him and Ingo when they were children. Many joked that it was Emmet that truly birthed them. His wife, Lela, would vehemently disagree. No one could deny the twenty-four hours of labor she endured to bring these children in the world only for them to look nothing like her. Emmet had remained by her side the entire time, save for the time he had fainted, and the doctors had to tend to him alongside her. A bump on the elbow and an IV needle seemed trivial compared to what she had gone through and the sheer amount of joy he had felt seeing his children’s faces for the first time. Tiny, pink, and covered in tiny translucent tufts that would eventually grow to the silver locks they now sported. It didn’t feel that long ago... “Why not try to combine your designs in some way?” Emmet felt he would have been blinded had he actually seen the light bulbs flare to life in their little heads. Their eyes went wide and bright as his words. “That’s a great idea, dad! C’mon Iggy!” The other child nodded enthusiastically before they both ran off to their room with drawings in hand. Emmet chuckled weakly as Lela came to sit on the floor next to where he lay on the sofa. “Dad imparting more great wisdom?” “Yep. You know it.” She rested her head on his shoulder and ran her fingers through his hair. He sighed as her nails grazed his scalp gently. “How are you holding up?”

Emmet’s smile flattened as his eyes drifted to a picture on the wall. It was of Ingo in his subway boss uniform, saluting the camera with his trademark frown. A black band was wrapped around the corners of the frame. Other photos sat around it in various candid moments that had been caught of the subway boss. One of him laughing at something with a cat like smile, another with cake smeared on his face most likely during a party. Another of him and Emmet in the middle of roughhousing and staring at the camera like they had been caught committing a crime. They were all cherished memories Emmet had chosen to display in tribute to his long lost brother.

“I’m holding…” He responded after a long silence. He nuzzled his face against Lela’s head. “You?”

“Same…”

Emmet sighed deeply. “Seven years today… I had actually forgotten until I saw the flowers…”

Lela looked at him in surprise. “They’re still leaving tributes to him?”

Emmet nodded. “Every year. I thought it would stop. But no. He’s still remembered.”

Emmet new full well it would continue long into the future. Every year, on this day and during their birthday, flowers and small offerings would appear around a plaque dedicated to Ingo’s memory and the tragedy that took him. It was always hard to see, a stark reminder of his other half being gone from this world. It was also comforting in a way. The world still remembered Ingo. Ingo did not leave the world without leaving his mark on it. People still celebrated the fact that he had existed in the first place. Emmet could only hope to be remembered as favorably as his brother was when his time came.

“It almost feels like Ingo is still alive…” Emmet mused. “Like he could walk through the door at any moment…”

Lela nodded. “We both loved him dearly…”

Emmet scoffed. “And that love brought us together…”

“Yeah…” Lela kissed Emmet’s forehead. He regarded her a moment. His eyes seemed to be searching for something in her face. To him, she looked as beautiful as the day he married her. Her dark hair and emerald eyes always struck him as enchanting. It bothered him slightly the boys didn’t get her eyes. Deep and lustrous. He could stare at them all day. If something didn’t seem to haunt him every time he stared into them too deeply. Though it was his own reflection, it always looked like Ingo was staring back at him.

“Is there something wrong?”

Emmet hesitated but the words fell from his mouth anyway. “Do you regret it?”

“What?”

Emmet’s eyes widened slightly realizing the thought had come out his mouth instead of staying in his head where Lela couldn’t see. “Marrying me…” Emmet trailed off. “I mean… You belonged to Ingo first…”

“Emmet. We’ve been over this…” Her arms wrapped awkwardly but affectionately around his head. “Do you honestly think that I would not have taken your proposal and had your children had I not loved you?”

“Hmm… No.” Emmet replied flatly snuggling into the embrace. “It’s just… I… don’t feel I deserve this… You, the boys, this home… It feels like Ingo was cheated out of this life…”

Memories of Ingo speaking of how he had dreamed of the idyllic domestic life rose in Emmet’s head. He had caught Ingo looking at rings on his phone at one time. It had made Emmet giddy when he first realized what Ingo was planning. Now the memory made him sick to his stomach.

“We live as happily as we can in his honor…” Lela replied, trying her best to calm Emmet’s worries. “You know Ingo would be beside himself with worry if he knew we were miserable without him.”

Emmet nodded. He could not deny that Ingo was selfless to a fault. He would bend over backwards to ensure his loved ones were well and taken care of. The same conversation would most likely happen if the roles had been reversed. But they weren’t. Emmet was alive.

Ingo was not.

“You are right.” Emmet pressed his face into Lela’s shoulder. She could hear him sniffing against the fabric of her shirt.

“What are you doing?”

“Are you cooking what I think you are cooking?” His voice was muffled from his face still buried against her clothing. She laughed and pushed away from Emmet.

“Maybe. You’re just going to have to wait and find out.” She stood and smoothed her apron before looking back down at her husband. His eyes were tired.

“Why not relax before dinner? You know the boys are going to want you to play with them after eating.”

Emmet nodded as a yawn crept up almost as if on cue. Lela laughed once more and smiled sweetly at him. “I love you, Emmet.”

“I love you too, Lela.”

Lela walked away to finished dinner. Emmet made himself comfortable. His eyes drifted back to the wall dedicated to Ingo. Fate had played a cruel trick in taking Ingo away. What would Ingo think, Emmet wondered.

What would he think of his brother leading the life that was obviously meant for him?

“I wish you were here, Ingo…” Emmet muttered, closing his eyes. “I truly do.”

#wardenwrites #Emmet #Subway boss emmet #Ingo #Subway boss ingo #Oc Lela #Oc Emery #Oc Ignius #Pokemon

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