#man beatrice is just nice

[whaledocboi]

“You don’t have to be happy, you know,” Lilith mentions offhand, helping Camila up. “I am beating you to a bloody pulp. You are not required to enjoy all aspects of the training.”

“I do enjoy spending time with you; the beatings, less so.”

“Good, I was beginning to worry you’re some kind of masochist.”

“She just said she enjoys spending time with you, she’s definitely a masochist,” Mary calls out in greeting. “Show me what you’ve learned, baby girl.” Mary does a combo punch and leg sweep that Camila deftly blocks and avoids. “Good! We should set you up with Beatrice, get you beat up in a whole new way.”

“Um, OK?”

“Mary always steals my most promising sparring partners and gives them to Beatrice; it was only a matter of time,” Lilith sighs.

“Shan needs you for something; less whining, more sister warrior-ing. I’ll take Camila to the range, see how she does with one eye swollen shut.”

“Thank you for the spar, Sister Lilith.”

“You’re welcome. Keep your left guard up; Mary is sneaky.”

“How dare you imply I would surprise attack her on the way to the range!”

“Would you?” Camila asks.

“Absolutely, baby girl. Let’s go!”

fuck yeah, thank you anon, im stiching these together like a frankenstein monster, please absolutely do keep it up (if this is one person. actually im not sure. doesnt matter)

its like camila saying "i enjoy spending time with you" didnt even register to lilith at first, and then after 5something minutes she's like "wait, what" (tfw someone hits on you and you only realize it a year later)

"you dont have to be happy. like seriously. dont keep smiling at me and be nice, i do not know what to do with that. no, stop, stop it immediately, because one day i'll wake up with the terrible horrible realization that i've fallen in love with you." - lilith probably

then one day mary probably will napalm her with the "wow do you have a crush on her or something with the way you talk about her all the time" and lilith is mortified because that cant be, i should find everything about this little guy unbearable and annoying and YET

camila on the other hand would just ask beatrice once like "do you think lilith hates me? i cant ever tell if she cares for what i say or wants to knock all my teeth out" and beatrice would go "im dont know what exactly she thinks of you, but she offers to help you up after sparring and she also willingly speaks to you for no apparent reason, and she hasnt done that since. forever basically."

and yippee, cam finally feels at home and less alone and surrounded by people she likes and cares for. i sure do hope nothing will happen to them.

[ebiemidnightlibrarian]

Girl youre awakening my old crush on Peter Capaldi

LOL, I'm glad to be responsible for it!! 💜

Honestly, I've liked him as an actor for AGES; he's always been cute, and I love his voice and all, but that was it. However, that was my brain overshadowing the signs of a severe case of brain rot. Since I watched a clip of him as the 12th doctor about a month ago, I knew I was hooked. Then I watched The Lair of the White Worm, and now he has me in a chokehold! (I blame the fluffiest curls and those angelic features, ugh.)

I mean...

[thesmokinpossum]

i feel like it’s an extremely unpopular opinion but i really dislike todd chavez as a character and the more they flesh him out the more i hate him tbh

[phoward89]

Based on this ask

Young President!Coriolanus Snow x First Lady Wife!Reader

It's no secret that your marriage to your husband, President Coriolanus Snow, is an arranged one. Your father, Colonel Javani Halvir, just happened to be bestfriends with his father, General Crassus Snow, so of course the families had drafted up a marriage contract for the two of you. A contract that was made when you were still little kids.

Of course, when you came of age you got married. The engagement was actually a long one, considering Coriolanus wanted to wait until he graduated the University to get married. You didn't mind tho since it meant you were able to get to know him better due to the longer courtship.

Despite his cold and stoic demeanor, Coriolanus was a really nice man to you. And as time went by he became more and more enchanted with you- well, despite claiming to never love again he truly did fall madly and obsessively in love with you. He always made sure to show you his love and devotion too, whether that be by showering you with gifts or kisses. Whether that be by making sweet love to you or passionately fucking your brains out. But, Coriolanus Snow always made sure that you knew how much you meant to him. Both before and after you said ‘I do’.

But a lot of your so-called ‘friends’, the socialites and wives of other political elites and friends of your husband, would often make little remarks about how awful it must be being married to President Snow since he's such a cold, stoic, hard, hateful, ruthless man. Despite these women being afraid of your husband, they still talked shit about him. And in places they knew you'd overhear too, like in the lady's room at galas, balls, tea parties, etc.

And this afternoon you came home from a charity luncheon for Doctor's Saving Districts very distraught. When your personal maid took a seat next to you on the sofa in your sitting room and asked, “First Lady Y/N, what's the matter? Wasn't the charity luncheon nice?”, you burst into hysterical tears.

“Oh, Beatrice, it was horrible. Completely horrible.” You cry, causing your personal maid to just give you a questioning look. “My friends were gossiping about me and my husband in the bathroom; they said such horrible things.”

“What did they say, First Lady Y/N?” Bianca, your personal maid and friend in the Presidential Palace, asked while wrapping her arms around you, pulling you into a hug.

“That it must be horrible being married to the president since he's such a cold, stern, stoic man.” You told your maid the exact words you heard Livia Heavensbee nee Cardew tell your friend Megara in the ladies room this afternoon.

Before Bianca could say any words of sympathy to you, you begin to break down and cry. “They assume he's a cold and hateful husband when he's not. And they think I'm miserable when I'm happy with him.”

Unknown to you, Coriolanus has finished his meeting earlier than expected and decided to pay you a visit in the living quarters of the Presidential Palace to inquire about the charity luncheon you attended today. Your husband was very proud of you for being such an avid philanthropist. Your kind heart and sunshine disposition made your inner beauty rival that of your putter beauty; it made the president love you even more than he thought possible.

So, when Coriolanus walks into the sitting room only to be met with the sight of your crying, crumpled form being held by your personal maid and friend, he's very concerned. But when he hears your sob ridden voice hiccup, “My friends assume that Coryo doesn't love me because of his proper and stern disposition he displays in public and it hurts. But what hurts more is that they assume I'm miserable in a loveless marriage, Bianca.”

Hearing you say that breaks President Snow’s heart and pisses him off too. How dare the high society women of Capitol City, Panem pretend to be your friends only to gossip behind your back; say blatant lies about your relationship? Who do those useless socialite whores think they are? Making his wife cry? Slandering his personality and his love for you?

Those Capitolite bitches need to pay and he knows just the perfect way to make them do that. Oh yes, he's going to make them pea green with envy at the next gala (which is at the end of the week for the Doctors Saving Districts charity) by being the perfect doting husband to you.

“Those women are just jealous fools, First Lady Y/N. It's clear as day to the entire palace staff that President Coriolanus loves you very much; in fact, those women must be wearing blinders if they can't see how much you mean to your husband.” Bianca tells you in a very supportive and friendly tone.

“I doubt it. My husband's not one for PDA, so there's no true way for my friends to see that he’s not a hateful, cold hearted bastard.” You sniffle, pulling away from your maid and wiping your eyes.

How dare those women call him a hateful, cold hearted bastard towards his wife? Well, he just happens to know that despite being sweethearts with Persephone, Festus is currently cheating on her with not one, but two mistresses. And your friend Megara, well he has it on good authority that her husband, who's a lobbyist for a politician that opposes the president, is having an affair with his driver.

Hmm, these women think that their husbands love them so much because they hang on them in public, but that's far from the truth. Their husbands are putting on a show, an elaborate act, for everyone.

It's an act that Coriolanus never felt the need to put on because he's faithful to you, loves you with his entire being, and doesn't feel the need to ‘prove’ his devotion to you. But now he needs to be a better husband in public than the men your ‘friends’ are married to.

Coriolanus is determined to show you off at the gala in a few days. Make you feel like the most loved and adored woman in all of Panem.

The president decides to back out of the room and let you cry with Bianca, your trusted maid and friend, in privacy. He’ll come back later when he knows your tears are dried and your makeup’s fixed to ask about your charity luncheon. Coriolanus doesn't want to embarrass you by letting you know that he overheard your tearful breakdown about your relationship being labeled a cold loveless one.

When Saturday night rolled around your husband, President Snow, took you to the charity gala for Doctors Saving Districts. You two looked like the epitome of a regal couple- him with his dark burgundy suit and crisp white shirt, complete with ruby cufflinks, and you in your white strappy ball gown with dangling ruby and diamond earrings, ruby and diamond choker, and ruby and diamond tennis bracelet. His platinum blonde hair was slicked back in its signature pompadour while yours was pinned in an elegant half-updo. And to top it all off, you wore matching white roses. His white rose was on his lapel while your white roses were tucked into your half updo- making your silky hair pop beautifully.

All of the men secretly wish that you’re hanging on their arms instead of on your husband's. The men envied Coriolanus for being your husband. One would think men would covet his presidential position, but that wasn't the case.

No...

In fact, you're the most beautiful lady in the Capitol according to the murmurs amongst the elite and wealthy men. Hell, if you'd give them a second look they'd drop their wives faster than a hot potato. But that'll never happen because you only have eyes for your husband, President Coriolanus Snow.

And the cold, stoic, stern, ruthless Mister President only has eyes for you as well. And because of that, he's not letting you leave his side tonight. President Coriolanus Snow is going to show you off; dote on you so much that the socialites of the Capitol will be astonished, envious, and will never utter a slanderous lie against him as your husband ever again.

“There's Hilarious and Livia Heavensbee.” Coriolanus subtly pointed out the miserable looking couple as they bickered by the punch bowl. “Shall we go over and say hello, darling?”

After overhearing Livia and Megara’s hurtful gossip about your husband being unloving to you the other day, well, you didn't want to be around her. But your husband's the president and he's old classmates with the Heavensbees, so you understand why he suggested approaching them to strike up polite conversation. Coriolanus had to portray himself as a polite and charming creature to ensure that he kept his top political position.

Although only Capitol citizens are eligible to vote, a vote for presidential terms is held every handful of years. So, your husband has to play nice with the other Capitolite elite.

And you?

Well…

You need to be the epitome of a perfect wife and a perfect First Lady. Which, unknown to you, Coriolanus feels that you've far exceeded his expectations for you in that department.

“Yes, let's say hello to them.” You nod, a thin smile on your face, as an Avox comes over holding a tray full of champagne.

Coriolanus grabs two flutes of champagne, one for each of you, and dismisses the Avox. Handing you your drink, he takes a sip of his. Once your fingers are daintily wrapped around the champagne flute, your husband's large hand rests on the small of your back as he guides you over to Hilarious and Livia Heavensbee.

“Hilarious,” Coriolanus greets his former Academy acquaintance with a nod. Turning to Livia, who he's always hated, but hates ten fold now because of how she made you cry, your husband puts on a fake smile and greets her, “Livia, I believe you attended the charity luncheon with my wife, Y/N, this past Wednesday.”

Livia Heavensbee nee Cardew looked every inch a fine socialite in her black evening gown and black sheer gloves, but she couldn't hold a candle to you. In fact, her husband's sneaking glances at you while President Snow caresses your back as you're tucked into his side, sipping on champagne.

Mrs. Heavensbee is a bit surprised by your husband's hand stroking up and down your spine. She's also shocked that you're tucked into the president’s side; looking every bit like a woman being doted on by a loving husband.

It can't be so, can it? Coriolanus is a cold, hard, unfeeling, stern, ruthless man. How can he be a doting husband to you? It doesn't make sense to Livia.

No sense to her at all.

“Yes, we attended the charity luncheon together.” Livia confirms, all the while her eyes are glued to the way President Coriolanus Snow’s hand comes to rest on your hip- thumb pressing circles into the white fabric of your dress's bodice.

Not letting the Heavensbees get a word in, Coriolanus brags about your kind disposition. “My darling rose is quite the philanthropist. She heads so many charities and I couldn't be prouder of her for it.” Coriolanus bends down slightly, since he towers over you, and pecks you on the cheek. “Y/N is the perfect epitome of a true First Lady.” Turning to you, he asks in the loving baritone he reserves only for you, “Aren't you, baby?”

“Coryo, you flatter me more than I deserve.” You humbly counter. “I’m not that perfect.”

“See, not a vain bone in my wife's body to even take credit for all the work she does; for being the perfect embodiment of what a Capitolite lady should strive to be.” Coriolanus proudly told Hilarious and Livia while moving his hand up to caress your shoulder. Turning to Hilarious, he asks, “How's business been, old friend?”

“Business is business, as usual.” Hilarious flatly replied, earning him a nod from President Snow.

“Well, as much as I'd like to stick around and discuss your business, I must take my wife to greet some other friends.” The regal president tells the inferior couple, who don't even have matching outfits on, before dragging you away.

Livia’s livid as she sees your husband's hand slide down to pinch your ass while the two of you head towards where your friend Megara's at. Never did Livia think that President Coriolanus Snow could be so doting on you. Why won't her husband caress her or goose her in public? It's not fair!

But, in Hilarious’ defense, he didn't love the dirty blonde shrew. He got stuck with her via an arranged marriage. The ancestor of the founding father of Panem and the heiress of the largest bank in not just Capitol City, but all of Panem, was a very smart match. It just never produced any love, but they did have a son. Plutarch. But they never talked about him.

“I'm surprised you're leading us over to Megara and her cousin Hera. I thought you didn't like them?” You ask your husband as your ‘friends' got into range.

Leaning down, Coryo's breath is hot against his ear as he whispers, “I don't like them, darling, but tonight I'll deal with their useless chatter in order to greet them with you, my love.”

“As nice as it is having you greet my friends with me, Coryo, you're the President of Panem and need to greet high ranking politicians and allies of your own accord.”

“You forget, baby, that you're my First Lady so you're able to be by my side as I greet allies, foes pretending to be allies, and business contacts.”

“Why do I get the feeling that you're going to be extra needy tonight?” You ask your husband in a whisper only he can hear.

Coriolanus icy eyes twinkle mischievously as he says, “Perhaps your beauty has overwhelmed my senses and I want my beautiful wife by my side tonight.” His hot breath tickles your ear as he huskily adds in, “And I want you to ride my cock for hours tonight, my love. For hours upon hours, til I'm too sensitive to get hard and your womb’s overflowing with my seed.”

You're speechless as your husband stops you right in front of your friends Megara and Hera. He greets them with the charming sophistication only Coriolanus possesses from a lifetime of selling snake oil and lies. And just like before, he sings your praises and caresses you in a way that has your ‘friends' seething in silent jealousy.

In fact, Coriolanus does it all night long- dote on you in such a way that every female in the room’s beyond jealous. And when he notices that the Capitolite ladies are visibily shaken by his displays of love and affection towards, he knows that he's won; that his mission to show everyone that you're very well loved and cared for by him- President Coriolanus Snow, has worked.

Oh, and when the Presidential Palace's PR team makes an announcement exactly one month later about how President Coriolanus Snow and First Lady Y/N Snow are expecting their first child, well, nobody at the gala's surprised. Far from it considering how much of a doting husband Coriolanus was to you that night.

Tags: @kuroosbby001 @preteen @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst @whipwhoops @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere @savagenctzen @ryswritingrecord @erikasurfer @tulips2715 @universal-s1ut @thesmutconnoisseur @squidscottjeans @sudek4l @wearemadeofstardust0 @mashiromochi @gracieroxzy @belcalis9503 @shari-berri @aoi-targaryen @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1 @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @v-love @swiftieblyth @joyfulyouthlover @princess-harvey @chxrrybomb22 @marvel-hiddles-stark @xjinnix @devils-blackrose @zombicupcake3 @jacesvelaryons @tempt-ress

[radiant-reid]

The Right Person

request:

things spencer would say to his ex who’s his ex but not really his ex bc their hearts always belong to the other but is actually his ex bc they called it quits but just bc it’s over doesn’t mean it’s really over cuz he’s just: last slide

Summary: Right person, wrong time... at least until there's a part two

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (angst, sort of)

Content Warning: a tiny spicy moment

Word Count: 3.3k

Masterlist | Navigation

Spencer has always jumped into things too quickly. It's the cocktail of being a romantic, coming from a broken home, failing with most social relationships, and the desperate need for a family.

So when Y/n came along, all smiles and beauty, he moved too fast. Fell is probably a more accurate verb. He fell in love so quickly without any logic that he couldn't help proposing a year in and marrying her six months later.

She offered him support and unconditional love. And for the first time in a tough five years in the FBI, he felt like the world wasn't completely terrible.

The whirlwind relationship would have been much better if taken slowly. It might have even worked out. With their fast pace, neither of them could keep up and after four years, trying to make it work wasn't worth it. The therapy, fights, and long periods without speaking wasted time and drained them both emotionally.

It was like fire. Hot and heavy or warm and comforting, but they were destined for a burn.

Sure, they loved each other more than anything, and they would forever argue that they're soulmates and the timing was at fault.

When Beatrice was nine months old, it was clear things wouldn't, so for her sake, Spencer moved out, the fighting stopped, and they could be friends.

For three months, they've been doing well with their co-parenting routine. Since Spencer had spent so much time away during their marriage, Y/n didn't have to get over the feeling of loss.

Maybe some of that could be accounted for by the fact it still felt like they were dating, the magnetism between them still volatile.

It's Saturday when Y/n's baking in the kitchen. She's yet to enquire about selling it, probably because they're yet to properly get divorced. Somehow, it doesn't feel weird for her to live in their marital home. She ignores how little it feels like they're broken up, especially when she's eagerly anticipating him coming home back from a case. He's not even coming to see her, but she's changed out of her pajamas and put makeup on.

"Guess who?" A voice says while the matching fingers block her vision.

If she didn't know that voice like the back of her hand, she would have freaked out. "You're so close to losing your key, Spencer Walter Reid."

He pulls his hands away, resting his back against the bench with his body facing her. "Boring answer. I would have accepted sexy ex or the smartest man alive." He says, smiling his perfect wide smile.

He looks good, a golden glow still surrounding him, and his shirt fits him tightly around his muscles. She's allowed to say that as his eventual ex-wife, right? It's more of a compliment to herself for attracting attractive, intelligent men. That's how she justifies it anyway.

"Who's been inflating your ego, loser?" She teases.

Repartee of their level is something no one else could ever offer him, and he cringes when other people try. "Jealous?" He asks.

Yes, she is. She'd love to shower him with compliments. Tell him about how nice his hair looks a little bit longer, how he should wear more light blue because it really is his color, how good he smells, and some less innocent things as well. The jealousy boils in her at the thought of someone else doing that. Still, she resists.

"That someone else has to vacate the bathroom for hours each day so you can do your hair? No." She lies. It's a lie on all levels.

Unimportantly, he doesn't spend that long in the bathroom, and he's about the furthest thing from a narcissist there is, but deeply, she would jump at the opportunity to be locked out of the bathroom while he spends far too long in the shower and be greeted with the gorgeous sight of a towel wrapped around his hips and his chest showing.

"Okay." He lets it go, and it annoys her that he won't believe the time. "Can I have some cookie dough?"

"Say please." She directs.

He pouts too much like Beatrice. "Please." He complies before opening her mouth.

She frowns, unsure if he seriously wants her to hand-feed him cookie dough. The answer is yes because he doesn't shut his mouth and tell her it's a joke. She scoops some up, putting her fingers into his mouth. He doesn't let them sneak out without wrapping his lips. It's suggestive, and it doesn't disgust her.

"You'll get salmonella." She tells him when he finally lets her fingers out of his mouth. She tries not to blush like mad while she wipes her fingers on a kitchen towel.

"You'll have to look after me then," Spencer says, justifying it. "As the person who gave it to me."

She shakes her head. "Gross."

"Why are you baking on a Saturday?" He asks, raising an eyebrow at her. He's suspicious whenever things change in her behavior, more so than anyone else's.

"I'm anticipating being busy tomorrow." She answers ambiguously.

It was on purpose, but the goal wasn't to make him curious and ask more questions. She just wasn't jumping at the opportunity to hear his opinion on her love life.

Unfortunately, his curiosity peaked when she started speaking. "Why?" She mumbles out an answer that he doesn't catch. "Come on, don't be shy."

"I'm going on a date." She says finally, avoiding looking at him.

That knocks him off guard, the smile slipping from his face as he steps back. Quickly, he forces himself to say something recoverable to hide the hurt and shock he's feeling at the unexpected news. "Does he know you're married?"

He knows he has no right to be upset about it. Not only are they not exclusive, but they're, in no way, romantically involved. It's why there's no bite in his words, nothing vicious in his tone.

It hits him harder with every passing second. Her statement is something he never expected, and questioning why that is while standing in the middle of their kitchen with her in a beautiful new top, yeah, it's gut-wrenching.

She holds up her bare left hand, shed of a wedding ring. "He doesn't, no."

"What's his name?" Spencer asks next. There are a million questions on his mind, but he keeps the conversation casual.

"Bradley."

She feels guilty for it, unsure if it's cheating guilt or mom guilt, and she's forced to constantly remind herself that it's okay, she's allowed to say yes when she gets asked out and be swept away by someone else.

His next move, to her, seems predictable. Whenever he's looking for more information, he stays quiet, waiting for her to feel awkward enough to elaborate. Even though she used to read him like an open book, she can't see that he's processing, replaying their worst moments-the moments that led them here- in his head.

She keeps talking, annoyed that his old trick is working when really she's just breaking his heart more. "He's a defense attorney, but he accidentally took my coffee the other day."

Spencer resists the urge to scoff because 'accidentally.' He's seen Morgan use the move a hundred times: pretend to mix up the coffees, apologize, and seal the deal by asking if he can make it up to her. "Switching teams, I see." He interrupts, predominantly so that he doesn't have to hear anything else. "And a new top." He mentions. Again, a tactic to get her to stop talking. "What color is it? It would look really nice as a feature wallpaper."

He does that, too, only complimenting things adjacent to her. Talking about fucking interior design instead of just saying she looks nice pushes her buttons, and she knows where his are.

"Yeah, I was wearing a jacket in a similar color, so I'm hoping it's a subliminal message." She admits. "Plus he's tall and very attractive.”

Spencer wants to scream something along the lines of 'I'm 6'1, I have three PhDs, you've told me I'm handsome after you held my hair up while I puked after drinking far too much, and I'm so goddamn in love with you,' but he can barely admit the last fact to himself.

"So he's got brown curly hair and sparkling brown eyes?" Spencer teases her, and she rolls her eyes. That dumb eidetic memory would never let him forget the descriptors she'd given him, and his cocky attitude would never stop mentioning it. "It's not your fault you have a type. Scientifically-"

"Shh." She requests, pressing her finger to his lips.

Without thinking about it, like it was second nature, Spencer purses his lips and kisses her skin. After letting it linger for a moment, she takes it away and turns back to what she's doing.

Again, he draws her attention back to him, cupping the cheek furthest away from him and turning her face to look at him. Once she is, eyes locked on his, he holds her other cheek. He steps forward so that he's so close to her that her breath gets trapped in her throat.

Those fingers on her skin make her feel things she shouldn't be feeling, and her heart starts to thump in her chest when she sneaks a glance at those beautiful veins. Maybe her skin is hot or maybe his fingers are just cold but the contrast sends shivers all over her. It's hard not to think about all the times they've been inside her or how they look wrapped around his cock as he lines himself up with her sex.

"Y/n, if he lays a hand on you, I swear to god." He says threateningly, and it would worry her if she didn't know him so well and if it wasn't so hot.

"You don't believe in god." She calls him out, raising her eyebrows in challenge.

"I can find anyone, anywhere." She can't debate that. "And if he lays a hand on you, I'll kill him or put him in jail for the rest of his life. Your choice."

He's acting like he's doing her a favor, letting her decide how he'll hurt someone who hurts her. It's an odd declaration to be making, contradictory to every bit of his sweet nature, and she doesn't hate it.

"What if I ask- beg for it?" She questions him.

"Oh, I'm not worried about that." He's really not.

He would do immoral things that would make him lose his job and even go to jail if someone hurt her, but the deep feelings he's disgusting as an overprotective bravado against someone assaulting her is really just because he can't stand the thought of someone else being with her.

He's not worried about it sexually. She might be anticipating not being home for the night, but she's not the type to ask a first date to get rough with her. What's got him on edge is her being someone else's emotionally. They might be telling everyone they're not together, but if her heart belongs to someone else, there's no chance of him getting her back, and that's all he wants.

His lips are so close that she could kiss him, but the magnetism makes it challenging to resist. She yearns for the feeling of warm lips against hers, more specifically, the pretty pink ones she's peeking at.

They've had slips before. It's been three weeks since their last one. Every time, she swears she won't do it again, but she's ready to tear his clothes off and fuck him in the kitchen.

She's daring him to make that dangerous leap, and he's about to.

The cries of a woken-up one-year-old through the baby monitor snap them back into a harsh reality before their lips can touch. They both wonder if it's horrid that they forgot why he's there. Spencer lingers for a moment with her face in his hands before he breaks away from her painfully.

"I'll go." He says, leaving her standing there stunned with cheeks hot and a pounding heart.

She has a moment to recover, but it's not enough, and soon Spencer's back in the room with the sweetest baby in his arms. She's giggling, clinging to her dad, who she loves dearly. If Y/n didn't love Beatrice wholeheartedly, she'd be jealous she wasn't enough for Spencer to spend time with. But she can't be. Not when Bea has the greatest dad in the entire world, and she deserves every inch of his love.

"Kiss momma." Spencer directs, holding her up to Y/n's cheek.

She plants a kiss that's mostly saliva on her mom, and despite how messy it is, it makes Y/n grin. "How'd you sleep, baby?" She asks, knowing they'll be no reply. Her vocabulary is limited to three words: mom, dad, and love.

"Not so well last night," Spencer answers like it was intended for him.

He sits on a bar stool at the kitchen island, sitting Bea in his lap. "Spencer," Y/n warns, glaring at him.

"Your mom's mad at me." He stage-whispers to Bea. "I never know why."

"Should we start with lying to a child?" She wonders, but it's playful, not insulting. "Add in some pesky comments."

Spencer pouts, holding Bea up so she can see it and copy her father. "Oh, she loves them." He assures her. "And I love you. So much."

Y/n smiles in adoration. He might be difficult to be in love with, but he's the best dad ever. Spencer catches her staring, it's pretty obvious when the bowl of cookie dough sits abandoned on the counter.

"You look so similar." She says, trying to prevent the awkward since and slightly too romantic looks.

"Need another one to look like you?" He jokes, or maybe it's an offer. She can't really tell.

She scoffs, shaking her head. "I'm alright, thanks."

"But she's so perfect." He coos, her entire hand holding his pinky finger. "How could you not want another one?"

She chuckles at his baby fever. It is practically impossible to not want another child when theirs is so incredible, but they're only masochistic towards each other.

"Don't go getting random girls pregnant, Spencer." She jokingly advises him.

“I’m only ever going to get one girl pregnant.” He tells her.

He’s messy. In fact, they’re messy together, and he can’t keep his dick in his pants, but it’s not a problem he has with anyone else.

"That's possibly very nice." She says, frowning as she tries to figure him out.

"You're lucky." He rephrases.

She laughs, shaking her head. "You're lucky I don't kick you out now."

"Whoa, I get it." He teases. "It's someone's time to get lucky, hang a sock on the door and all that."

"I highly doubt you got any in college." She reminds him.

"Or now." He adds.

It should be weird. Who casually discusses sex with an ex?

"Yeah, I noticed one of your hands seems stronger than the other." She quips, although there's no discernable difference. They're both equally delicious.

"Mm, reminds me, I need more lotion." He mentions, playing along with the joke. "Vanilla, right?"

She fake-gags. "That's literally disgusting." She chides. "Do not go and get the same lotion I have to jack off."

He shrugs casually. "It's a free country."

"You're disturbing." She reiterates, reminding herself he said it to get her flustered.

"Don't flirt with me like that, or I might start thinking you like me." He warns, fluttering his eyelids at her.

She does feel like she's falling in love all over again with him when it's all flirting and comfortable.

"You'd be begging if I was flirting." She assures him, and it's true. Spencer begs like no one else.

"Alright, I think that's time to go." He decides, clicking his tongue and looking at Bea again. "Your mom's too into me for her own good."

That is hitting the nail on the head. She's into him and she always will be, but it's not wise, and it compromises her self-respect time and time again.

He gets up, bouncing Bea on his hip and walking around the bench. She leans forward to kiss her happy baby before playing with her soft hair. "Just admit you lost, Spencer." She tells him.

A little grin lights up his features as he refuses to comply with her directions. "I never lose." Oh, except for his one true chance at happiness and a family with the most remarkable woman in the world.

"Those beautiful big brains." She coos, moving her hand to his hair to part his curls properly.

"I'm sure yours are equally, if not more, beautiful." He says, once again making her stomach slip with the eye contact. "Smaller of course."

She scoffs out a laugh. "Bye." She says. "Her bag's in the hall."

"When do you want her back?" Spencer asks, holding the baby up so her cheeks can be kissed an obscene amount of time.

Their custody arrangement is nonexistent. With Spencer's hectic schedule and their good relationship, there's never been a need to make it official. Bea's always his priority when he's in the District, and that keeps Y/n happy.

Not fully happy. She'd like to see Bea, and her dad, every day, and she's too far from that with the latter Reid to ever be completely satisfied with her life. Months later, she's still convincing herself she can one day not look at him and wish for something unrealistic.

"Whenever." She says. They start walking towards the front door, slowly, both lingering and dragging it out. "If you need to go, you can bring her back."

"If you're in the middle of a date?" He wonders cheekily, grabbing Bea's bag from the floor.

She glares at him, not finished with her sentence. "Otherwise, I'll text you."

"Call." He insists. "We're not texting people."

"Fine." She agrees, swinging open the door. She takes Bea into her arms, giving her a tight hug. "Love you, sweet baby."

"Mom, love," Bea mumbles back, placing her hands on Y/n's cheeks.

Spencer gets the sinking feeling in his chest that he always gets leaving, but it's worse when he's taking Bea, who's Y/n's entire world. It makes him feel nauseating amounts of guilt. How can he be okay with putting her through the loneliness of a house that big being empty?

He smiles at her as he takes Bea back. "Thank you."

She not sure what for and she doesn't have a chance to ask before he's walking out the door, strapping Bea in her car seat. She waves at her mom, looking as happy as always.

Spencer stops before he gets in his seat. "Y/n?"

"Yeah?" She asks, straightening up her posture.

She's hoping he'll say what she wants to hear, although she doesn't know what that is. A Spencer fact would keep things simple, but saying something about how they can get back on track, that she shouldn't go out tonight, would ruin their carefully stacked house of cards.

"He's a lucky guy." He says, and it kills him to know that it used to be him taking her out, watching her grin from across the table, making her laugh until she's begging him to stop, driving home with his hand on her thigh, watching her take off her makeup and become more beautiful, and ending up cuddling in bed, their baby just a room over.

And he can't ever have that again, not with her, and he can't fathom it with someone else.

Y/n goes back inside once he's driven away, hoping for once, after he leaves, that she can not think about him.

It doesn't work. As always, she's stuck thinking about Spencer.

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[charmingsoa]

■ Bring it On Home to Me (two) ■ John Egan x OC ■ ■ Multi chapter story ■

⚠ Chapter warning ⚠ Mentions of sexual content, cursing, use of slurs, mention of abuse.

Author's note: Hello again! So, first of thank you so much to everyone that has read the first chapter! I really appreciate it. I've been kind of in a slump with this story, having so many ideas, and trying to figure out how to piece everything together. It's definitely a work in progress. I have added past and present as well in this chapter, but going forward, I kind of want to time jump. Like I want to jump around their relationship instead of each chapter being in the same time period. Would you all be okay with that or would it be too confusing. Like I could add time stamps if that would be helpful? Please just let me know whichever you all prefer. Again, you guys are amazing and I thank you all ❤️

✪ If you would like to be tagged, just leave a comment ✪

I watched from the corner as he slept peacefully – the turmoil of war erased from his gorgeous features as the night slowly crept into daylight. Our time together was quickly coming to an end – an end that would more than likely be terminal. He was an American soldier – a major – a pilot that would either soar like an eagle or crash like so many before him.

John Egan was a charming man – one that could sweep you off your feet with just one look. I had gone to the bar down from Louella’s, the night too slow for any business. She had sent most of us home, choosing to close for the evening. Rumor had it, she was expecting one of her “high ranking” gentleman friend – a German that didn’t want to be identified.

I didn’t want to go back to Aunt Beatrice’s – already knowing that she wouldn’t approve of a cashless night. All I wanted to do was nurse a drink or two – maybe get a dance from a lonely attendee. I wasn’t looking to get into anyone’s bed, let alone spend the whole night making love in the shadows of the bombs that were exploding on the outskirts of town.

Watching as he made his way further into the bar, I couldn’t help but take sneak peaks. His uniform fitting him just right – the chip on his shoulder being held up nicely by his cocky attitude. His drink of choice was whiskey – raw whiskey. One glass after another – his body holding a tight grip on sobriety.

The way his lips tasted of the liquor made me want more – more of his lips, more of his touch. This wasn’t a fuck and pay situation – Louella was not in charge of this union. I think what made it that more powerful was the fact that there was a high chance we would never see one another again. He was an American who just so happened to be sent to the city for some reprieve – a night away from the battlefield to unwind and relax. A time that most soldiers would come into Lou’s for an hour to two of pleasure – their wives or girlfriends back home oblivious to what happened behind the closed doors of the bordello. As soon as their time was over, they would go back to their hotels and call their significant others – whispering sweet nothings in their innocent ears.

As my time with John progressed into the night, the thought of never seeing him again remained in my mind. His promise, whether it was from the liquor or his grandiose illusions, of taking me away from all this was left as an empty promise. This man didn’t know me from Adam, only the tracking of my body as his head found its position between my legs. Many had come before him promising the same – a beautiful life back in the states – a life away from Louella’s bordello and Aunt Beatrice’s abuse. I would just smile and go on – both of us knowing that once they left those doors, everything would be forgotten.

Quietly, I rose from the chair, tiptoeing in the darkness as I started collecting my wardrobe. Each glance at John’s sleeping figure making my heart race and ache simultaneously. How I wanted to just stay locked in those strong arms, listening as he spoke of what he had seen on the frontline or stories of his childhood. He was the first person I had opened up to as well – speaking of my late mother and father – the living situation that I was in now as with Aunt Beatrice being the only family left. All this talking happening in between sessions of love making – a short intermission as we let our bodies rest up for the next round.  The tone of his voice creating a fire in my core as it got huskier as the octaves lowered.

“You leavin without saying goodbye?”

Stopping dead in my tracks, my eyes darting over to the bed as John stared back at me. “it’s not nice to fuck and run, darlin.”

I watched as he picked up the pack of cigarettes, the sheet lying low on his hips as he leaned against the headboard. His hair was disheveled from the pillow, his tired eyes watching my every move as I shifted around. “It’s better off that way.”

He let out a sigh, releasing a plume of smoke between his pursed lips. “Says the one who’s running away.”

I slowly pulled on my undergarments, taking a seat on the side of the bed as his eyes bore into my frame. “I’m not the woman you need in your life, John.” My voice low. “It’s not fair to either of us to keep acting like we’re gonna see one another outside of these walls again.”

“Wow-“He chuckled annoyed. “Sounds like you're killing me off – telling me that I’m not making it back home.” My face expressionless as I looked at him. “You obviously don’t know me very well, little girl.”

I shook my head, “That’s not what I’m saying but I’ve seen it enough to know that that could be the case. But, even if you do make it, survive this hell that we’re all in, I’m sure there’s a beautiful American girl waiting back home for you.” The tears forming in my eyes. “A girl who’s not tainted by the spills of other men –“

“I don’t want that-“His hand grabbing onto mine. “You’re the one that I want – you’re the one that I want to see standing on that front porch when I get home from work. I want to be able to wake up next to you every damn day. I want to watch you waddle around the house as our children grow in your stomach. I want you to get annoyed at me for every little thing.” A sad smile forming on my face. “ I don’t know a damn thing about you, but I know that you’re the one that I’m bringing back to the states come hell or high water.”

We stayed still for a moment – no words said between the two of us – just silence filling the already quiet room. I wanted so badly to cling to his every word –to just go off into the sunset with this strange man that I had known for less than six hours.

My hand pulled from his as I stepped away from the bed. I quickly pulled my dress back over my head, buckling my heels as I stood in front of the mirror. His reflection could be seen plain as day, his head hanging low as tears welled up in my eyes. I couldn’t leave without saying goodbye – a goodbye that I didn’t even want to think about saying. What if his plane were to go down one day – the thought of just leaving with no words would eat me alive if I ever found out he had passed.

“John?”

His head slowly lifting in response as I stepped back to where he sat. His strong arm instantly pulling me into his chest as I wrapped my arm around his neck, my lips faintly connecting to his skin. We sat there way for a moment before I pulled away, his gorgeous blue eyes glassed over with tears.

“You take care of yourself, Major Egan.” The pad of my index finger lightly tracing his plump lip.

He didn’t say anything, just nodding his head as his grip on me loosened. If this wasn’t my chance to leave, then I would have stayed for the rest of eternity. I didn’t bother with one last kiss or one last hug – I simply pulled away from his touch for the last time, marching out of the hotel room before I could change my mind.

I watched as Aunt Beatrice sat next to the fireplace, the flame running low due to the dampness in the small room. I shifted nervously as she remained silent – not even an expression on her aged face. I already knew that my news would not be taken well – Loella basically throwing me out of the building once I told her. Telling me that she was just keeping me around because she felt sorry for me. – not like I was one of her top earners among the servicemen. I had left John back at the hotel – letting him know that this needed to be done in private. If Beatrice caught wind of John being around, that would only set her off even more.

“You’re running off to your American dream and I’m being left here to rot.” Her voice low. “After everything I’ve done for you, Vanessa.” Her piercing green eyes whipping in my direction. “After I took you in when you had no one – I put a roof over your head when you should’ve been wasting away on the streets like everyone told me to do.”

“You made me sell myself – made me give up my virginity so you could have your bills paid.” I began to speak. “Had me out there working for Lou every night just so you could sit on your ass and collect the money in the morning. Do you even know what some of those men made me do in order to earn that money?”

“Bullocks!” The packed ashtray shattering against the wall behind me from the force of her throw. “I didn’t hear you complaining when those men were buying you fancy dresses and expensive jewelry. You were sitting pretty every single night just asking to be fucked like the whore you are. You could have quiet at any time – took a job anywhere else – in those factories down by the river – but no. Don’t act like you were keeping me up, sweetheart. If it wasn’t for me, you would be dead and buried somewhere just like your fucking parents.”

This was going nowhere – there would never be a resolution between her and I. It was pointless to keep the argument going because there was no way, even if there were proven facts, that she would backdown and forgive and forget. She was a hateful and spiteful woman.

When Aunt Beatrice passed away, I didn’t find out until four months later. I had been living in the States for almost two years by that point. She had told the hospital that she didn’t have any living family members – saying that they all died years ago. She was buried in a pine box at the poplar cemetery with all the other individuals that didn’t have the means for a proper burial. No tombstone – no marker. It would take many years after the fact for me to forgive and forget myself.

I ran a hand through my hair, the frustration boiling over as I pulled at the strands in silent anger. "You truly are a miserable old bitch," the words spilled out, a release of pent-up emotions that had been building for far too long. "Always wanting those around you to be just as miserable as you are. Well-"

I closed the distance between us, stepping closer until our faces were mere inches apart. The fire in my eyes matched the intensity of my words. "I'm no longer that little girl who's afraid of you. You can't use that cane or ash shovel to beat me anymore. You can't call me hurtful names or tell me that my parents died because they didn't want me as their daughter."

The air crackled with tension as I held her gaze, unflinching. The weight of years of abuse and manipulation hung heavy in the space between us, but I stood tall, my resolve unshakeable.

"And when that rent payment is due," I continued, my voice low but filled with a newfound strength, "you will never have me pinned down to the mattress as those bastards from the bank have their way with me."

The creak of the floorboard caused us both to look up as John stood in the doorway, his hands shoved in his pockets, his expression unreadable. Beatrice's body stiffened, her eyes narrowing as she processed the words I had just spoken.

"Well," she began, a sickening smile spreading across her face, “Looks like we have ourselves a visitor.” I felt a surge of anger rise within me, but I forced myself to remain composed. Stepping forward, my heels clicking against the floor, I took my place next to John. His arm wrapped protectively around my middle, a silent gesture of support and solidarity in the face of Beatrice's barbed words.

"If it isn't the little tinker soldier coming to whisk the distressed maiden off to a great new world." Her tone was laced with sarcasm, each word cutting through the tense silence of the room. “Tell me, Major.” She struggled to stand. “How does it feel knowing that ever soldier from here to Russia has had a taste of your little tart’s pussy? Knowing that your dick and hundreds of other dicks have been in the same hole – a stretched-out hole for someone who’s only 19 years old.”

John's tall frame began to move forward, his muscles tensing with anger as Beatrice's cruel words hit their mark. I acted on instinct, my arm reaching out to stop him from advancing any closer towards her. I could feel the heat of his rage radiating off him, his jaw clenched tightly as he struggled to contain his emotions.

Beatrice stood her ground, her expression unreadable, almost daring John to lash out at her. The tension in the room was palpable, thick with unspoken words and unresolved conflicts that hung in the air like a heavy fog.

I held John back, my grip firm but gentle, silently urging him to stay his hand. Despite the torrent of emotions swirling within me, I knew that violence was not the answer, no matter how much Beatrice's words cut deep.

"Don't," I whispered to John, my voice barely above a breath. "She's not worth it. Let's not give her the satisfaction."

John's gaze flickered to mine, a storm of conflicting emotions raging in his eyes. Slowly, he began to relax under my touch, the tension in his body easing as he took a deep breath to steady himself.

With a final, defiant glare at Beatrice, John stepped back, his fists unclenching at his sides. The standoff between them remained unbroken, the silent confrontation speaking volumes of the deep-seated animosity that simmered just beneath the surface.

"Go get your stuff," John's voice cut through the tension, sharp and commanding. His words were a clear directive, a signal that it was time to leave this toxic environment behind.

I glanced between John and Beatrice, their silent standoff continuing as I quietly shuffled past Beatrice, determined not to engage further in her games. With purposeful strides, I made my way to my makeshift room, the weight of the impending departure settling heavily on my shoulders.

I wasted no time in gathering my belongings, selecting only the most essential items and packing them into the duffle bag that the army had provided John during his service. The meager possessions I owned were carefully chosen and placed with care, each item a precious link to a past I was preparing to leave behind.

As I sifted through my belongings, a mix of emotions washed over me - sadness, anger, but also a glimmer of hope for a new beginning. I knew that I would have to leave behind most of my things, the material possessions that held little value compared to the memories they carried.

Clothing could easily be replaced, but the mementos that my parents had given me were irreplaceable. Each trinket, each keepsake held a piece of their love and guidance, a reminder of the family I had lost but never forgotten.

As I slung it over my shoulder, ready to embark on the journey ahead, I felt a sense of liberation and determination take root within me. The road to America beckoned, and I was ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead, armed with the strength of my resolve and the unwavering support of John by my side.

John gently removed the pack from my shoulder as I reentered the living room.

"You're making a grave mistake, Vanessa," Beatrice's tone filled with contempt as she spoke. Her eyes bore into mine, searching for any sign of doubt or weakness. "Do you truly believe that this man will fulfill his promises of calling you his wife and providing you with the perfect life in America?"

I remained silent, refusing to give her the satisfaction of a response. The doubts that she tried to sow in my mind were like seeds of discord, but I refused to let them take root. I knew the strength of the bond between John and me, and I held onto the hope of a better future with unwavering conviction.

A bitter smirk played on Beatrice's lips as she continued, her words dripping with disdain. "If you believe in such fairy tales, then you are even more of a mug than I thought you were. Don't be blinded by false promises and empty dreams, Vanessa. Reality has a cruel way of shattering illusions."

I met her gaze steadily, refusing to flinch under the weight of her scorn.

"Any place that's away from you and this godforsaken place will be considered a fairytale ending,"

[yupstillhere]

Currently thinking about how Michael had the absolute audacity to say ask Ava “you okay?” right before they go off on their secret suicide bomber plan.

I mean even if you don’t factor in Ava having just had her first and last kiss with Beatrice (didn’t even get to say I love you to her at this point) I’m sure the whole facing her own mortality is gonna put a downer on things.

And, aaand this man decided to be a sassy fuck and say “nice of you to show up” instead of hello. Fucking pipe it mate, this is a horrible plan. Not only are you both dying in about 20 minutes, but Ava will be dying via human shrapnel. Sure it’s technically divinium but let’s be real, that’s some body horror right there and I’m sure if Ava wasn’t actively bleeding out at the time maybe it would’ve clicked how extra disgusting that is.

“You okay?” Of course not you limp biscuit of a man. Jesus, he has the emotional intelligence of a limpet in this scene, brainwashing be damned.

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

What Would They Name Their Children? (Headcanons)

Rise!Turtles

A/N: More names!💚 And for some reason, I decided to use gifs that made me laugh lol.

Warnings: None💚

Raphael:

Big brother Raph might very much want some more “traditional” names for his children. Names that might be a little bit more common, but still very beautiful. Of course, Raph would very much want to hear what his future partner thinks of these names, before settling on any of them.

For Boys:

Edward, meaning “rich guard”.

Arthur, meaning “strong as a bear”.

Adam, the name of the first human man in the Bible.

For Girls:

Beatrice, from French, Italian and Latin origin meaning “voyager” or “traveler”.

Eleanor, meaning “one who is as bright as sun rays”.

Alice, meaning “of the nobility”.

Leonardo:

Would it surprise anyone that Neon Leon would want to give his children a Spanish name? Not really. Most people would have seen that coming from a mile away. A very avid Spanish speaker himself, it just feels natural for Leo. And if his future partner is up for it, then he already has a few ideas.

For Boys:

Marco, most likely derived from Mars, the god of war.

Joaquín, the Spanish version of the name Joachim.

Alejandro, the Spanish variant of the name Alexander.

For Girls:

Gabriela, meaning “God is my strength.

Esmeralda, meaning “emerald”.

Lucia, meaning “light”.

Donatello:

Donnie’s partner wouldn’t even have to ask - Donnie would name his children after some of the greatest scientists there have ever been. However, with Donald being the way that he is, he would want to be extravagant with those names. He would want them to have old and long names, thinking that they sound not just nice, but beautiful.

For Boys:

Archimedes, after the Greek mathematician.

Pythagoras, after the Greek philosopher, mathematician and music theorist.

Avicenna, after the Persian doctor, philosopher and politician.

For Girls:

Mercuriade, after the 14th century Italian female physician and surgeon. One of the few of her time.

Aglaonice, after the Greek astronomer.

Guillemette, after Guillemette du Luys, the royal French surgeon of king Louis XI of France.

Michelangelo:

Mikey would want to decide on a name, before the birth of his child. A name he can use to reference the child, in a way that feels more natural to him. But he would do this very early on, seeing that as one of the many reasons why Angelo would only want to give his children gender neutral names. A name he would be able to use early on, while giving his child a chance to explore their own identity, with a name that wouldn’t upstruct that.

Phoenix, after the mythological creature.

Peyton, from the Old English language, with an unknown meaning.

Lennox, meaning “place of elms” in Gaelic.

Madhu, from Sanskrit meaning “sweet”.

Presley, meaning “priest” or “clearing” in Old English.

Bellamy, meaning “beautiful friend” in Old French.

[agaypanic]

Hey could I request a klaus x reader where the reader is around his age and works for VFD (as a singer for her cover but is actually someone who charms people for information yk) but is like super lonely because all their attention isnt really/longterm but klaus and the reader fall in love anyway ( also if you could add him confessing at like a masquerade ball but the reader almost gets killed by count olaf kinda like the lemony and Beatrice flashback ) sorry for the long and specific request

The Siren and The Bookworm (Klaus Baudelaire X Reader)

Masterlist

Request Something!

Summary: As a siren, all the attention you received was fake or short lived. But your new partner proves to be an outlier.

A/N: Klaus and reader have been working for the VFD for a few years, so they’re in their early twenties. Count Olaf didn’t die at the end of the series. Klaus confesses after the ball instead of during it. Also based off of the ball scene from Cruella. One more also, this is my last ASOUE fic!!! So I hope you enjoy

***

It felt simple, almost fun working for the VFD. Given your unique ability, you did much of your work and investigation at parties. You were a singer, but you had a certain charisma that made you able to get anyone to tell you anything. You loved it; the attention, the trust. 

But it never lasted. It was always temporary. When you were done getting the information you needed, you’d move on, and the person you had talked to would forget all about you and your conversations. But at least you always had the stage to return to, your one constant.

Although it felt easy, VFD work was sometimes dangerous. So, after a few minor incidents of being followed or getting found out, the VFD assigned you a partner to accompany you on missions and such. His name was Klaus Baudelaire, the son of the late VFD alumni Bertrand and Beatrice Baudelaire. A lot of the time, when you were undercover, he acted as your bodyguard. This amused you because he was better at reading about defensive strategy than practicing it. But it was still nice to have his company. 

You were first assigned to each other a few months ago. It was strange to form an actual relationship with someone. But after some time, you two became best friends despite your differences. The characters you portrayed accurately depicted your true selves in a way. You were known as The Siren, where being charming and open was just as important as your voice when you were put in front of the microphone. And when Klaus joined the VFD, he was lovingly nicknamed The Bookworm, for his mind was like an endless library that constantly desired to be filled.

You knew you shouldn’t get close. Eventually, he’d be like everyone else, a distant memory. But knowing that didn’t stop you from falling.

You were getting ready in your hotel room when Klaus came in. He was practically itching to leave, because this mission was especially important to him. The VFD had heard whispers of someone who was finally seen after years of hiding. And after years of attempts, he was seen in the limelight. Klaus knew this man all too well, and because of his stories, it felt like you knew him just as personally.

Count Olaf was now known as a talented and famous theater actor, instead of a murderer, kidnapper, and child endangerer. You don’t know how he did it. From Klaus’ stories, Count Olaf seemed to completely lack any sort of talent beyond fooling foolish adults with disguises. You and Klaus couldn’t understand why people were so favorable to him now, but you guessed that it had something to do with the fame and people having their opinion of someone so easily swayed.

The VFD wanted Count Olaf put away once and for all, which was why you were getting ready to go to a press event in his honor and why Klaus was practically about to push you out of your chair and into the car.

“Y/n, please hurry. The car’s here.” You couldn’t blame Klaus for his excitement. He had been wanting revenge on Count Olaf since he was first placed in his care. And although Klaus wasn’t a violent person, he was itching for justice to be served in any sense possible.

“I’m almost done, Klaus, I promise.” You sighed, applying a final touch of lipstick before standing from your chair. As you moved, you felt your dress was looser than it should’ve been and realized it wasn’t zipped. “Klaus, can you zip me up?”

“Uh, yeah.” If you were paying closer attention, you would’ve seen that he had a harsh blush on his cheeks and was about to choke on his spit when he answered you. But you were too focused on the tasks ahead of you. He zipped your dress up, being gentle in a way like he was almost scared to touch you. But you didn’t comment on it. “Ready?” You turned to see an outstretched hand. You took it, and the two of you made your way down to the car provided by the VFD.

“You remember the plan?” You asked as the driver took you to your destination. You fiddled with the ring on your pinky as you thought about it. This was probably the most risky mission you had participated in in all your years working for the VFD.

“Yes.” Of course, Klaus remembered the plan; he remembered everything. “And you’ll be okay.” He grabbed your hand and squeezed it tightly to emphasize what he had said. It wasn’t a question; it was a statement. A fact. Even though what’s supposed to happen hasn’t happened yet, Klaus believed that everything would work out perfectly. Despite the series of unfortunate events that he had to endure in his child, he was such an optimist at times. 

“I’ll be okay.” You repeated after him. If you said it enough times, it was sure to be true.

Count Olaf resided in a mansion on a cliff. The drive to the estate was long, and the view was incredible from any part of the property you stood on. Clearly, he was doing well for himself.

When the driver stopped in front of the mansion, littered with guests coming in and hanging around the entrance, Klaus stepped out first before reaching for your hand to help you out of the car. Immediately there were murmurs and gasps as the lights touched your face. It was funny how your undercover persona was more known than the person you actually were. It seemed very counterintuitive. Count Olaf’s doorman greeted you and Klaus when you reached the doors.

“Ms. Hent, it’s such an honor. The Count will be most pleased by your arrival.” He smiled at you and then glanced at your partner. “And this is?”

“This is my bodyguard, and plus one. I don’t go anywhere without him.” You grinned, signaling for Klaus to introduce himself.

“Hembro Kotow, how do you do?” It was Klaus’ idea to use anagrams to form your identities. And it was your idea to use your nicknames for each other to turn into anagrams because if someone could unscramble your fake names, they still wouldn’t know your real ones. So you, The Siren, were also Ires Hent. And Klaus the Bookworm was Hembro Kotow. Klaus felt somewhat ashamed about the idea because he had gotten it from Count Olaf and his antics from when he’d chase him and his siblings around for their fortune. He hated that he had learned something actually useful from the crazed lunatic.

Before you knew it, you were on the stage in the main room, because of course Count Olaf would have a stage in his house. As you sang, you scanned the crowd to find your host. Everyone was masked because Count Olaf seemed to love secret identities. You and Klaus didn’t participate in the masquerade part of the ball, because the vital part of your undercover work was to be seen.

After a few songs, you found him chatting it up with a guest by the doors that lead to the back courtyard. As you sang the final note, the crowd turned their attention to you and started to applaud, Count Olaf being one of them. He smirked, and although you were disgusted, this was part of the plan. You nodded to Klaus, and he accompanied you on your journey through the sea of people.

“I’ll give you five minutes with him before I send everyone out,” Klaus whispered, hand pressed to the small of your back to guide you. “And I’m being very gracious by giving you that much time.”

“Five minutes is all I need.” You whispered back. “And stop worrying; I’ll be okay.”

“You’ll be okay.” He repeated softly.

“Count Olaf, it’s such a pleasure to finally meet you.” You gave a sweet smile to the man when you finally reached him. He immediately brushed off whoever he previously talked to and focused on you. He grabbed your hand, and you pretended to be delighted when he kissed the back of it.

“Believe me, Ires Hent, the pleasure is all mine.”

“This is such a beautiful home. Absolutely magnificent.” 

“Perhaps you’d like to see more of it?”

“I’d love to.” You linked your arm with his and gave Klaus a nod that said, ‘I’ll be right back, don’t follow me,’ and although this was all part of the plan, he wished he didn’t have to leave you alone with Count Olaf. “Could we see the ocean first?”

“Of course.” Count Olaf led you out of the mansion, and the two of you walked through the courtyard to get to the edge of the cliff that was fenced off by cobblestone structures. “Who was that man you’re with? He seemed familiar.”

You tried not to panic. After all, Count Olaf hadn’t seen Klaus in years, and he had grown up and matured a lot since their last meeting. Or at least you hoped. 

“Oh, just my bodyguard, Hembro. He came from Canada a few months ago.”

“So why isn’t he here now, guarding you?”

“I don’t necessarily think you’re someone I should be guarded from.” There was a flirtatious tone in your voice, even though you wished nothing more than to be away from this man. Count Olaf smirked, and soon, you two were looking out at the sea. “This view is absolutely marvelous.”

“It really is.” Count Olaf sighed, glancing at you. You caught it and had to play along. 

“Very handsome.” You said, turning to lean against the fencing while facing him. You played with the lapel of his suit jacket, wishing it was someone else’s. It was bad enough that he was so much older than you, but the fact that you knew of all the things he had done, especially towards someone you care so deeply about? It made you sick to your stomach. You hated having to act so pleasantly toward a monster. But it would all be over soon. He gripped your hips to pull you closer. “You wanna know a secret?”

“Oh, how I love secrets.” You leaned forward to put your mouth to his ear. In the distance, you saw Klaus talking to different groups of people inside, gesturing to the courtyard. Slowly but surely, they started gathering outside.

“Well, this is a good one.” You took a deep breath, preparing yourself for the inevitable. “The VFD found you, and they’re ready to put you away for everything that everyone else had forgotten about.”

“What?” He hissed, squeezing you tighter. You tried not to grimace from the slight pain. You had to stay strong and confident. “Who the hell are you, and what do you know about the VFD?” You decided to not answer that question.

“I guess it was a mistake to chase the spotlight, Count Olaf. Now the only light you’ll be seeing is from a jail cell.” He turned you around quickly, pushing your body against the stone barrier. 

“I don’t think so, Darling.” He said with a sick grin. You gulped. “I think it’s time for you to see what you wanted to see.”

“Which is?” You asked, trying to wiggle your way out of his grip.

“The ocean.” His grip was soon off your body, and you were free-falling off the side of the cliff. The last thing you heard was gasps of horror before your plummet took you too far down to see or hear anything else.

Count Olaf turned around, shocked for once that he had an audience. His guests looked at their host in horror, murmuring about how they just watched the Count push the famous Siren off his cliff.

“What?” He glanced back, realizing what they had seen. “She jumped. Everyone, I know how distressing this must seem. But Ms. Hent was deranged, threatening to take me with her.” He was putting on the performance of a lifetime, but it wasn’t to convince the audience this time. “She jumped.”

But they didn’t believe him. Soon, the police (who were secretly VFD agents) came and arrested Count Olaf for the murder of Ires Hent. He screamed as he was being dragged off, talking about how it wasn’t what it looked like and how he was innocent.

Klaus sighed as he walked to the car that had returned to pick him up. He prayed you were okay, even though he knew you were. After all, this was all part of the plan.

Knowing the layout of Count Olaf’s party and his murderous tendencies, the VFD had fashioned you a gown that was both expensive looking and practical for getting thrown at sea to your death in. The skirt’s volume hid the fact that it could also be used as a parachute. You were able to guide yourself into the water, close enough to the shore that you wouldn’t risk getting pulled back into the sea. You insisted to the VFD (more Klaus than anyone else) that you could make your way back to the hotel on your own, and to not send a car for you to avoid the risk of drawing attention. Using VFD tunnels beneath the city, you secretly made it to the hotel. When you opened the door to your room, you were squeezed and lifted in the air.

“Oh, thank God.” Klaus sighed, keeping you close to him as he rested his head against yours. “I knew you’d be okay, but then the minutes kept passing, and I kept thinking the worst.”

“I’m okay.” You combed your fingers through his hair which seemed to help calm him. You pulled him away from nuzzling further into you to press your forehead to his. “We’re both okay.”

“We’re okay.” He repeated, still refusing to let you go. He needed the comfort of knowing you were still alive, and you’d be a fool to deny both him and yourself that. He put a hand on the side of your face, stroking your cheekbone with his thumb. He pulled away just enough to look at you. It was like he wanted to say something, ask you something. But he didn’t know how.

Even though he was the Bookworm, you knew how to read him. “Please.” The simple word drove him forward, pressing his lips to yours and pulling you as close to his body as physically possible. The kiss had so many unsaid words: ‘Thank God you didn’t die,’ ‘I’ve been in love with you for quite some time,’ ‘Never do something so crazy and risky like that again because I can’t lose you.’ Yet none of the words had to be said. Deep down, you had both known for a while. It just needed almost dying to confirm it all.

[crackrodent]

Husk is scared of being on boats

Husk is afraid of boats

Angel Dust was not an idiot. He knew cats were afraid of water. I mean every cat he’d ever seen was. But Angel was a spider demon and didn’t go around making webs and catching bugs. Hell, he was even tied up in a moth’s nest almost eighteen hours a day recently. He really did just want to take Husk out on a date. They hadn’t had a moment alone since they almost kissed after rebuilding the hotel. Angel of course fucked it up by making a joke about Sir Pentious dying. He was always running away from everything good that came to him.

---------------------------------------------

Anthony did like boats though. He had his own when he was alive, and she was beautiful. He used to joke that it was the only woman he would ever love. His parents thought it was hilarious and stupid teenage boy shit but his “friend” from school knew exactly what he meant. Oh, his boat was a sight for sore eyes. She was a dark almost black wooden color and her oars were the smoothest as they glided through the water. He had but cushioning on the bench in the boat. There was only one bench as he needed space for cargo his father told him. He was only fourteen when his father told him that and he took it genuinely. He found out a few years later that he needed space for the rats and troublemakers.

---------------------------------------------

“How much fucking longer are we gonna be out here Angel!” Husk hissed. Pissed off at the sinner who wanted to provide a nice fucking date.

“Until you tell me what's your fucking deal with boats, Whiskers.” Angel challenged, hoping that in a few more minutes he would settle down.

“I AIN’T TELLING YOU SHIT!” Husk yelled. Apparently really pissed off at this whole thing.

Husk went back to huffing and puffing quietly and Angel returned to his boat. This one in hell sucked. It was fake wood. Like the stuff they used at his work. Easier to clean he assumed but he didn't know jack shit about cleaning floors.

---------------------------------------------

He knew about cleaning boats though.

He didn't have to do it a lot. Sometimes his father would just tell him he had cargo for Poseidon and Angel knew what to do. Sometimes it would be a duffle bag of evidence or worse. If they were already dead then Anthony ready hadn’t done anything wrong. Self-preservation and all that. He was just glad their faces were always covered so he didn't have to see them. He had blocked most of it out.

He remembered the evidence though.

One time he tried to lift the bag and it was so fucking heavy that he just had to take a peak. It was his sister’s doll collection. Had to be twenty of the fuckers. Ever since she passed their mother spent most the day brushing their hair, cooing to them, calling each and everyone of them by their name. He knew all their names too. Anthony started pulling all of them out. And looking at them one last time knowing that he can’t take them back. His dad could handle them for his mother’s sake but since Ma passed- the dolls had to go. There was one doll though. Angel loved her too. I mean he had saved up for two years to get Molly the doll.

He saw it in a magazine. Her name was Beatrice. She had a blue dress so long it almost covered her little black shoes. Molly owed the same shoes. Anthony found her halfway down the bag. He stuffed the rest back in and tossed it overboard.

He stood there. Having broke his father’s trust for the first time in his short life. He was just a man of twenty-three. He couldn’t live forever without this piece of his sister. The memory of his mother. The reminder of his hard work earning the money for the first Christmas gift he ever bought instead of made. He was only ten that Christmas but that was the year his father gave him his first pocket knife. Said he had proved he was growing into a fine young man and would be a great father and husband one day.

Was a long talk about providing for a wife and joining the family business eventually. He liked the time. His dad was often too busy guiding his elder brother about his current involvement in business to give young Anthony much time.

Beatrice reminded him of that talk. Anthony laughed thinking back. A husband he could consider but a wife was out of the question. He was just going to be a bachelor as long as the family let him. He figured he could hide the doll in the bench. There was a small storage box. It was great for hiding up to six blocks of coke but he had one thing to protect more than that. The last good thing about this family was safe.

---------------------------------------------

“If I fucking tell you will you let me go?” Husk snapped Angel back to reality. They were already coming up on the end of the route so he figured he would let Husk have this.

“Sure Whiskers. Spill your secrets.” Angel teased.

“It was a couple of years before I died.” He let out a shudder. “I should have stopped with the gambling and shit a lot younger but I was still able so I was still going.”

“Oh yeah? The engine worked well huh?” Angel interjected.

Husk ignored him.

“I was working with some people from Jersey. I was in Jersey well sort of. It’s where I was staying but you know how small the states are up there. I had business in New York too. They had this shitty yellow boat. The paint was chipping but it had so many layers of paint you couldn’t see the original wood at all.”

“Yeah Jersey ain’t far from my old stomping grounds at all,” Angel said and was ignored again.

“We went out on the water because well we had another boat meeting us out there. But theirs was very dark brown or gray so it was hard to see it.”

Angel felt his breath catch. He was certain he was wrong but what if-

“The bench I was on was wobbly. The one the brothers I was out with sat on was fine. The other boat approached. We could see the bags on their laps. We were trading off cash for jewelry. It was legal. Well, our jewelry was. Their money wasn’t. It was an unnecessary risk but the choice was out of my hands.” Husk looked down, “Well our boats were side by side and they tossed the money over but the jewelry was too heavy and I stood to make sure I could toss it over. I was older than every one of those guys. hell twice the age of half of them.”

“You stood on the boat!” Angel gasped.

“Yes,” He responded.

“Did you die?”

“Angel I already fucking told you this was a couple of years before I died.”

“Oh right.”

“Well the bag made it to their boat but I went overboard.” Husk looked down, “They got me back on the boat and I was freezing. They made me sit on the floor of the boat so I could be curled up a bit. Stay warmer.”

Angel felt bad for teasing him. This sounded like it bothered him a lot.

“That’s not the part that made me swear off boats though,” Husk said.

The suspense was gonna leave Angel double dead.

“From the spot where I sat, I saw two little latches. So well hidden if you didn’t know they were already there I doubt anyone would find them.”

“Standard back in my time Whiskers, New York knows their stuff.”

“Well I was cold and I thought maybe there could be a blanket in there so I opened it and inside was a crazy-haired witch of a doll. covered in years of cobwebs. I freaked out. I mean fuck I fell overboard again. Tipped the whole boat.” Husk put his face in his hands. “I didn’t notice right away. not until the brothers started laughing. We were only three feet deep at that point so there was. A man as old as dirt sitting in water and crying like a little kid.”

Angel was glad they had hit land or he would have tipped the boat laughing. He almost fucking called it.

“Was the doll wearing a blue dress? With little black shoes?”

“How did you-”

Angel’s laughter could wake up all of hell and it would be worth it.

“Husk you are not gonna believe this!”

[violivs]

NMTDaily: All Round Great Guy

- Hoo boy, get ready to cringe, folks. This episode, man.

- “So, some people seem to be upset about something that apparently happened at Pedro’s costume party” This opening is interesting in that it could easily set us up to think we’re getting Bea’s side of the story on her argument with Ben. But actually, she’s here to defend Pedro and Hero.

- Right now, Bea and Pedro are a united front. He defended her to Ben last episode; here she is defending Pedro to her audience because, as we see in the video description, he asked her to.

- This is a parallel to the eventuality of Bea having to make videos defending Hero from a situation Pedro’s involved with later. She starts defending them both, but ends up defending Hero FROM Pedro (and Claudio).

- Bea is about to unintentionally make the first big crack in the foundation of the Bea-Pedro friendship in this episode, sadly.

- We find out that Pedro won the race for Student Leader. This does make his asking Bea to make and post this video for him feel a bit like a politician caught in a scandal, trying to cover his ass and avoid damaging his image.

- Pedro, like Ben, cares a lot about what people think of him. He also doesn’t feel like he really is the person he presents as to others. For Pedro, though, it’s about living up to the ideal leader figure people already see him as. For Ben, it’s about trying to impress people because he doesn’t have that ideal popular guy image- he’s kind of still the New Kid who has to prove himself.

- Are double peace signs a bisexual stereotype like finger guns? (Are finger guns even a bi thing or am I misremembering the memes?)

- “You know that he’s actually a really nice guy and he knows his shit.” Love dramatic irony that only becomes dramatic irony upon rewatch!

- Pedro going overboard with praise for Hero while trying to tell us how he DOES NOT have feelings for her is definitely funny. It also says something given how quickly he’s going to turn on a dime about her later. His regard for her here is just words.

- There’s a really good meta by @thebirdscomeback about how women like Hero can never win because if you’re so nice and kind and sweet you must be hiding something, and that is really going to become apparent in future episodes.

- “Everything you may have heard on the vlogs of Benedick was not the truth.” Pedro is acting like he wasn’t IN two of those videos. He didn’t make an effort to clarify things with Ben or ask him not to upload them. He could have.

- Also, Bea has no way of knowing Pedro was in those videos because she doesn’t watch Ben’s channel. So he’s omitting that information to keep her on his side.

- Pedro has taken the note from viewers in the comments on Ben’s videos that “people aren’t property.” But he hasn’t internalized that truth, because he will definitely go on to support the idea that Claudio’s claim to Hero’s body has been violated, when the eventuality happens.

- Meanwhile Ben, who casually uses objectifying language about Pedro stealing Hero from Claudio, will step up and believe and defend Hero. That’s it in a nutshell.

- Claudio and Hero are now officially together! Being sickly sweet together down at the park. And the audience that doesn’t know the plot of the play is happy for them, awww!

- Bea is even happy for them, because she likes that Hero is happy. That’s big for her, and very sweet.

- “Now they’re coupled, and I’m the only one left alone in this mean old world!” Beatrice is being sarcastic here, but Pedro isn’t picking up on that, because he doesn’t want to.

- He’s looking at Bea very fondly. I do feel bad for him, this is brutal.

- “I could be your Prince Charming.” You can actually see him consider and make the decision to take the plunge and say that.

- You can also literally SEE Pedro’s face fall, in real time, as he realizes Beatrice’s answer is to laugh at him. Caleb Wells is excellent at facial expressions in acting.

- Now, for Beatrice, this whole conversation has been a joke. She’s been kidding around about being lonely, he’s been kidding back about finding her someone. I think she genuinely believes at first that Pedro is making a joke. They’ve been so platonic for so long that of course the idea of Pedro being her prince romantically is a joke. So she laughs.

- Pedro chuckles a little, trying to play it off like it was a joke. But he hesitated way too long before laughing, so even without seeing his face, Bea knows she messed up.

- Bea is immediately very uncomfortable, making a ‘yikes’ face and babbling and waving her hands. She feels bad about laughing at Pedro. I also think that she laughs and smiles when she’s nervous, so she keeps doing that here even though she’s making it worse for Pedro by doing so.

- Basically, I maintain that Beatrice didn’t mean to hurt Pedro in this scene. If he had very seriously asked her on a date, she would still have been caught off guard, but would have calmly let him down easy. But because she thought they were joking around, she didn’t know until too late that she was in a delicate situation where not laughing in his face would be preferable.

- To her credit, her first words after this are to offer not to post this online. She doesn’t want to embarrass him further. It’s Pedro who insists she post it, probably in large part just to save face in this moment. (This is confirmed in the comment section, where Bea literally tells someone Pedro ‘wanted this posted to show how fine it is’. Cue the meme: they ask how you are and you say you’re fine but you’re not really fine…)

- “People will laugh about it” = “I’M laughing about it, you definitely didn’t hurt me at all by rejecting me, go ahead and show the world, I’m totally fine I promise”

- I do still read Pedro through the lens that his crush on Bea was real. I do think he was also starting to feel attraction to guys, and feel confused by it, and that makes asking out Bea a good way to distract himself from that. But he was into her, at the same time. He wasn’t deeply in love with her or anything, it wasn’t that serious, but yeah. Pouring your energy into a genuine straight crush to minimize your still-present queer attractions is a huge closeted bi experience. (In the play, how much Pedro is actually interested in Beatrice depends entirely on how the role is performed by the actor, so it’s up for interpretation there and here.)

- “I just can’t take you seriously” is the line where I’m like, okay, you didn’t have to tell him that, Bea. That was a little harsh, but in a way that’s very in character for her.

- Pedro tells us that he apologized to Claudio (even though he didn’t do anything to make Claudio think he was into Hero?) and that it’s all okay between them.

- Pedro and Bea both acknowledge that Claudio has a jealous streak. “But it’s all okay now” or is it???

- I have to wonder whether John is watching the videos at this point. The knowledge he’d get here of how well his plan worked in terms of upsetting Claudio is definitely a big push toward continuing to use Claudio’s jealous streak against him and Pedro. John knows he was right about Claudio’s weak spot now.

- Another thing that lives rent-free in my brain: Benedick is still watching Beatrice’s videos at this point. He would have seen this video. He would have been extremely confused about why it filled him with angst and annoyance to see Pedro ask Bea out. What I’m pitching to you here is Jealous Ben. Who definitely breathed a sigh of relief when Bea shot Pedro down- and was immediately like “wtf, am I happy about this? No. No. I have No Feelings About This At All, Actually.” *punches the air anyway*

- Interesting that after being falsely accused of pursuing his friend’s crush, Pedro then immediately actually does ask out his other friend’s crush. To be fair to Pedro, not even Ben knows for sure yet that Ben likes Bea, so Pedro isn’t knowingly asking out Ben’s crush. But it’s funny that it happened anyway.

- “Pedro’s a great guy, we’re just friends, and there’s no confusion anywhere.” - Bea, doing damage control

- Comment awards: Beatrice the character replying to a commenter that called this “the worst friend-zoning I’ve ever seen”, by going on a rant about how the friend zone doesn’t exist and is an anti-feminist concept. Perfectly in character and true.

- Comment round-up: people praising the excellent acting here; someone noticing that Beatrice is wearing the necklace Hero made her; a WILD amount of Pedro/Beatrice shippers who apparently existed, one of whom coined the ship name #pea; many people just hoping Pedro finds someone, including early Pedrazar shippers and people volunteering themselves as tribute.

- I am so glad this fandom never had any x-reader fics, on that note. No harm to people who like reader-inserts, but it would just feel weird, you know?

- It’s also really interesting to me that there WERE Pedro/Bea shippers, but their interest never coalesced into any significant amount of actual fanworks. Funny how some noncanon rarepairs flourish and others fade once the canon outcome becomes apparent. It’s probably because of their falling-out making fans reevaluate the viability of their relationship, and also just people finding other ships more compelling over time.

- Sad to see the first blow to Bea and Pedro’s friendship. It’s hard to get rejected, AND it’s hard to feel a friend pulling away because you couldn’t reciprocate their feelings for you. I feel bad for both of them.

💖🥭🦩

[bratshaws]

through the hourglass 377. brb x oc

THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS SMUT! IF YOU ARE UNDER 18 PLEASE DO NOT READ!!!

a/n: EHE well(comments and reblogs are super welcome and encouraged!)

pairing: plus size!oc x rooster

warnings: god so many. Rooster, office sex, Rooster is a kinky man and we are all here for it, Bea is also kinky for her husband. Both of them are just horny.

goodness gracious (pls read this one to know more what this fic is about!!)

chapter

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-

“Roos!” she whispers harshly, looking around the cold, quiet base as he opens the back gate - the same one they entered through back when they dated. “Baby, is this a good idea?” he just smirks at her as the gate whirrs open weirdly quietly, considering it’s the middle of the night.

He is giddy, like a teenager, and he holds out his hand, “Come on.”

Beatrice hesitated for a moment, uncertainty flickering in her eyes as she glanced around the deserted base."Roos," she whispered again, her voice tinged with apprehension. "Are you sure about this? What if we get caught?"

Rooster's grin widened at Beatrice's concern, his eyes shining with excitement. "Don't worry, gorgeous," he reassured her, his voice low and teasing. "We'll be fine. Besides, it'll be just like old times."

“I was nervous back then too!” she says, then sighs, taking his outstretched hand, her fingers intertwining with his as he led her through the open gate and into the darkness beyond.

As they walked through the base, memories flooded back to Beatrice in a rush of emotions. She remembered the only time they did this, how important it was for him…and her obviously. She had no idea what he was planning. "Roos," Beatrice whispered, her voice filled with uncertainty. "I'm not sure about this. Maybe we should turn back."

Rooster stopped in his tracks, turning to face Beatrice with a reassuring smile. "Hey, it's okay," he murmured, his voice gentle. "We’ll be in my office.”

“...your…office?” she echoed, her voice filled with confusion. "What are we doing there?"

Rooster grinned mischievously, his eyes twinkling with something. "You'll see," he replied cryptically, taking Beatrice's hand once again and leading her towards the building where his office was located.

Rooster stopped in front of the door to his office, his hand hovering over the doorknob. He turned to face Beatrice, his eyes soft with affection. "Are you ready?" he asked, his voice filled with anticipation.

Beatrice nodded, her heart pounding in her chest. She had no idea what Rooster had planned, but she trusted him completely. "I'm ready," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

With a grin, Rooster pushed open the door to his office and gestured for Beatrice to enter. She stepped inside, her eyes widening in surprise at the sight before her.

It was just his office. Plain and simple.

“Oh.” she hears him locking the door, “Oh, I mean, it’s very nice.”

Rooster stepped up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder. "It is," he murmured, his voice filled with love as he kisses the side of her neck. "And we’re alone in it."

Beatrice couldn't help but blush at Rooster's closeness, her heart fluttering in her chest as she leaned back into his embrace. "Yes, we are," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

Rooster's hands trailed slowly down her arms, sending shivers down her spine as he kissed her neck. "I've been thinking about this moment for a long time," he admitted, his voice husky with desire. "Being alone with you, just like this"

Beatrice turned in Rooster's arms, her eyes meeting his "What did you have in mind?" she asked, her voice tinged with curiosity.

Rooster smiled at Beatrice's question, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "I thought we could …work on some fantasies…" he replied, his voice low and teasing. "If you want.”

“Oh?” Beatrice's heart skipped a beat at Rooster's suggestion, her cheeks flushing pink at the memory. "What sort of fantasies,LC?," she whispered

Rooster's smile softened as he looked into Beatrice's eyes. "You know…fantasies.”Rooster leaned in closer, his lips hovering just inches from Beatrice's. "Stuff I know you’ll like too," he whispered, his breath warm against her skin. "Because every moment with you is a gift."

Their lips met in a soft, tender kiss, igniting a fire that had been smoldering between them for years and never once stopped glowing. It was a kiss filled with love and passion, a promise of things to come. She moans in his mouth, hands cupping his jawline as he picks her up by the back of the legs.

She squeaks - no matter how often he did this, it’s still surprising nonetheless - and laughs in his mouth as he places her on his desk, pressing a trail of hot,open mouthed kisses from her lips to the curve of her jaw, his mustache tickling her skin, “Roos…” she gasps, feeling one of his large hands cupping up the softer part of her waist, then climbing up until he reaches her left breasts, brushing his thumb over the sensitive flesh.

Beatrice loved her husband, she loved Bradley so much..but sometimes his ideas neared crazy, “Roos,” his lips drag down the column of her throat and she gasps, “A-Ah, wait–” he stops, mouth on the hollow that connected to her collarbones, eyes flicking upwards, unmoving, “I…” she gasps, slowly tilting her head towards him ,”Is this…is this the idea…you had for a while?”

His lips smack on her skin as he pulls back, “Yes.”

“For how long.”

He purses his lips ‘...a while.”

“How long is a while?”

“How long have we been dating?”

Her lips part in surprise because,well, that makes some sense. Her response however is swallowed up and turned into a quiet moan when his lips drag down to her cleavage. She has to fight back from being vocal because - what if someone is around or close by? Not that he’s going to complain, he does love when she’s vocal but if she’s not, he’s okay too.

He’s just that great.

“You know,” he sighs as he stands up, shrugging off his jacket and that crisp white shirt just clings to his arms, “I kept thinking of ways I could bring you in here, the first time you came here and brought everyone snacks? Fuck babe, took everything in me to not lock you inside.” he hums appreciatively as he runs his hands up and down her thick thighs, the movement lifting the dark fabric of her dress up to the crease of her thighs.

“It’d be strange to tell Mav about it.” she whispers.

Her husband just offers her a look, “Let’s not talk about Mav when I’m about to eat you out.” he says and she bites her lower lip in hopes to hold back a smile. She feels something poking her back and turns around enough to see a few pencils and pens right by her middle, benign careful to push it aside and not make it messy.

Rooster pushes her a bit further and she widens her eyes when she drops something, unsure what it was, “Relax,” he whispers, “It’s okay,we’re locked in here.”

“...wait so…there are people–Rooster!”

“Sssshhh…” he coos,kissing her lips and lying her down on the desk, his hand sliding down to her panties, feeling the lilac colored lace touch his fingertips as he brushed over her mound. She whimpered, canting her hips upwards for his touch, “This is going to be fun.”

“I-I don’t want you to g-get in trouble.”

“Hmmm,I won’t.” he says again, voice so deep it made her whole body vibrate. He nuzzles her chin with his nose, then pushes her panties’ crotch to the side to rub his middle and ring finger against her lower lips, not fully entering yet.

Beatrice moans, slapping a hand over her mouth as she watches him. He stops for a second, “Hold on.’ and he rolls his sleeve up to his elbow, “Better,we both know how messy this can get.” she can see the lines of muscle on his forearms, the dark blonde hair adorning his skin almost shining golden because of the faint moonlight.

He supports himself on the desk, dark eyes watching her expressions as his lower lip slides into his mouth. “You look so fucking good.” they dart all over her body, all over the flushed goodness that was her curves, “And you are still clothed.”

Not for long.

He slides his fingers inside her, eyebrows raising in amusement, “Oh,what is this?” he pushes his digits upwards as she gasps, “Already so,so wet for me. Always,right gorgeous?” she whimpers his name and nods,clenching the hand closest to her face while her eyes close. And truly, to say she was dripping it’d be an understatement. 

Thank god he didn’t have carpeted floors. 

But then again, he didn’t care about that right now.

He lets his gaze linger down her chest, seeing the dress still clinging to her skin in hopes to keep some of her body hidden…he didn’t want to rip it, but he also didn’t want to have her body away from his gaze. So, with his hand still between her legs, fingers moving in a slow,wave like motion, he whispered “Lift up your hips.” and she does, immediately, because not only that added extra pressure inside of her, but also helped her in removing her dress.

He smiles once she’s bare,well,partially, she still had her panties on, but the dress didn’t need a bra. And her breasts just moved as she breathed heavily, eyelids low and mouth flushed from biting so much ,”Perfect.” he pulls his fingers out just in time for Bea to whine loudly in complaint, but her whining was cut short when her legs were lifted.

Soon enough her crossed feet were touching his back and she lifted herself just enough to see him between her legs. Honestly if there was a better vision she didn’t know. 

God he was attractive.

He smirks, wasting no time in burying his tongue deep inside of her. Beatrice’s eyes rolled back, fingers twitched as she held onto the desk’s edge, white knuckled and all. Rooster’s deep,pleased groans when he began just made her whole body shudder. His tongue moved inside of her, then outside, then around her clit only to repeat it several times.

Rooster’s hair was so beautifully combed she almost felt bad for digging her fingers between the strands, but she knew he’d love it too.

Just a tug to his scalp and her husband was mush.

He groaned, openly and loudly, into her, making sure she could feel the way his voice shook her whole body and added to the pleasure of his tongue on her. Beatrice cries out in return, only to slap her hand over her mouth again “R-Rooster.” she bites her hand in hopes to control herself.

Her eyes widened as his hands cupped the underside of her thighs, pushing her forward, folding her over like a pretzel so her knees were touching the desk, right besides her ears. Beatrice’s breathing quickened because she could see so much of what was happening. She moans again,this time holding the opposite edge, trying so hard to keep her eyes open only for them to flutter shut at a languid lick from bottom to top.

He chuckles, pulling back with a wet smack, “Good?” she nods, “Come on, gorgeous, you gotta use your words.”

She furrows her brows, gasping out a ‘yes.’ as he kisses the crease of where her underwear and her actually sex meet, biting the elastic and letting it go accidentally, “Sorry,” he whispers when she lets out a quiet ‘ow’ “Maybe we should take this off,baby.”

“I-I’m okay with that.”

“Hmm,I’m sure you are, turn around for me?” He drops her legs so she can stand up - and Jesus he has to give a few steps back because seeing her, partially naked in his office, was the sexiest thing he had ever seen. She flips her hair to the side before thumbing the edges of her underwear and he watches as it rolls down, then snags between her thick thighs, only for it to fall at her feet again.

She kicks it aside, “Better?’

“Almost.” and his hand swoops down to her ass. The slap echoes around the room so hard she was sure someone else heard it. She cups her mouth to hold back the startled yelp and look back at Rooster with wide eyes, only for him to cup her jaw and smack a kiss to her lips – one that tasted just like her, “Now.” he smirks, tapping the area he just hit gently, “I got an idea.”

“A-Another one?”

“I’m full of ideas and if it was up to me we’d spend the whole night here, but,alas,” and he steps away and around the desk, settling on his chair. He leans back, spreading his legs just enough and she blinks at him, “...is this okay for you or–?”

“You want me to suck you under the desk,don’t you?”

His dick twitches, “Yeah.”

“I mean,” she tosses her hair to the side again, “I’m okay with it, I just wonder if you’ll be able to get any work done remembering I was under your desk.” she giggles when he groans, he hadn’t thought about that, “...Roos, is this really okay? I mean…I..I am happy with it,I just worry about you.”

And his horny gaze softened as he tilted his head, “...baby,c’mere.” he coos, tapping his lap, “C’mere, sit down.” she does and the contact of her naked flushed skin to his slacks was really good. He kisses her cheek, then her temple, before nuzzling her cheek, “I love that you worry so much about me.”

“Course I do.”

“But believe me, this is tame compared to some shit.”

“...oh.”

“Yeah.”

“You don’t have to go into detail.” she says, quickly sliding off his lap to kneel in front of his open legs. He stares down at her face between his legs and he has to hold himself to the best of his ability. “Besides,” she smiles, unbuckling his belt, “We’re busy here.” and he sighs happily, lifting his hips just enough for her to tug the pants down his legs, shoes were long forgotten as soon as they entered his office.

She bites her lower lip, hooking her fingers on the elastic of his black briefs - the fabric straining and stained because of him- gently pulling it down. He bobs out of it, leaking already and clearly begging for attention, “Oh.Well.” she smiles, scooting closer to him, closing her eyes as she kisses the underside, earning a shaky gasp from her husband. “So…what are your orders,LC?”

He snaps his head back down, eyes unfocused, “What?”

“Your orders.” she smiles, “What am I to do if you don’t tell me?’

Rooster’s pupils swallowed his irises and his mouth parted open ,”Fuck I love you so much.” he says breathlessly, then leans back on his chair even further, “I’ll leave it to you, I like being surprised,” and his brain was mud, he couldn’t focus on orders right now.

“Hmmmm…” she hums sweetly, wrapping her fingers around him and dragging her open mouth up and down his shaft, the warm breathing hitting the sensitive flesh. He tries to keep his eyes open but seeing her, under his desk, like how he wanted for so long…was almost too much. She smiles more, kissing his feverish skin again, licking her way up to the flushed tip and pecking it, with a wet smack.

Rooster clenches his teeth, “Fuck…baby I–holy shit!” she slides him into her mouth without worries, too many years of practice, she was no longer nervous around him and my god did she love to experiment. Rooster’s chest heaved as he tries to contain his moans, nails gripping his chair handles as Beatrice’s lips reach mid-length then slide back up.

Only to repeat once.

Twice.

Three times.

When her lips touched his navel,however, he was almost combusting. The muscles on his legs were quivering as he tried to calm himself down while still moving his hips to meet her face. He dared one look down and those green eyes, shining like stars with the flushed face as the background, just squinted at him. He sighs, one of his hands rubbing her cheek, “You still take my cock really well.” he groans, “Fuck,I’m glad you never lost the need to do it.”

Was he making sense?

Who knows?

He surely didn’t. He could feel himself about to snap, curling his fingers and clenching his teeth as Beatrice’s fingers touched between his navel and inner thigh, almost touching pressure points there, “F-Fucking h-hell…” he whispers/growls, “Fuck baby,if you keep up with this I’m going to fucking explode.”

She hums happily, popping him out of her mouth but still moving her hand up and down his length, “And you don’t want that?”

“As much as I love your mouth.” he grunts, “And I do…I still wanna fuck you on the desk.” she stops the movement, smiling up at him and crawling from under the desk. He is breathing hard, his shirt is sticking to his back and chest because of sweat. She slowly sits on the desk, then leans back so her breasts are popping out more, and parts her legs.

He mutters a ‘jesus christ’ before making a movement to pull off his shirt, “No,” she stops him, “Leave it on…I like it.” nevermind how hot he was, he didn’t care. He didn’t give a shit. If his wife liked it, hell he’d wear his fucking winter uniform,jsut for her. Her lips curl into a smile when he slams his mouth against hers, grabbing her left leg to prop the knee on his shoulder. 

That means she was folded, again, but partially, her free legs was hanging by the desk and she wasted no time in wrapping it around his defined hip bones. He smirks, nuzzling her nose, “Ready?” she nods, “That’s my girl.” he purrs, grabbing him by the base and slowly pushing it inside. Thank god their mouths are still touching, because the groan that left their throats was filthy…and the sound coming from their connection too, of course. 

She whimpers, looking down at where they joined while supporting herself with one of her arms. Beatrice just meets his gaze, eyes never leaving his as he starts to move. He was so beautiful, and so brave and strong and kind. She just wraps her arms around his neck to kiss him again, nevermind if that only made her leg hurt just a bit, she oculd handle it.

“Oh god.” she gasps, “It’s been…a while…” she mutters, “Fuck Roos.”

“A while?” he smirks, tilting his head, “I think I need to up my game, considering we fuck every two weeks…or whenever it works.” she just fumbles an apology, because she got obviously confused for obvious reasons. Rooster sighs,his hands on each side of her hips to have some leverage as his hips move.

But he had to admit, this one…was different. A good different. Considering where they were and how he had just been promoted too. “God, gorgeous.” he gasps, hips gently slapping against her inner thighs as he smiles, “Fuck I just love how snug you are. And wet. And nice…”

“R-Roos…”

“I’ve been dreaming of this for so long.” he continues, dragging his thrusts just so she cries out in frustration and ecstasy, digging her nails on his clothed shoulders, “Fuck, and you are okay with this – even if you are worried…fuck I’m so lucky.” 

She whimpers again,the leg on his shoulder clenches as she holds herself upwards. “R-Roos,god….I…”

“I can’t wait to come to work and always remember that you were here,” he sped his movements a bit, “Whispering my name,naked, wet, taking my dick so nicely.” and she gasps, slapping a hand over her mouth - her inside clenched. “And so good, like you always do…fuck you are perfect.”

Beatrice’s channel clenched again and a shaky hand was now between her teeth. Her knuckle was being bitten hard. “I’m going to make you cum so hard.” he smiles, pushing her back on the desk so she’s once again like a pretzel, his golden brown hair was sticking for his forehead and temples, “I’m going to make sure you’ll be all over.”

Her eyes widened and she could barely come up with a sentence, especially when he started to grind his navel against her clit. Beatrice’s eyes closed as her head leaned back, the soft smacking of skin on skin wasn’t as loud as it usually was…but it was enough. Rooster wasn’t going to last much longer, he knew that, he was well aware of how much power she had over him.

And he wouldn’t have any other way. He grunts, speeding up his thrusts, “Are you about to cum?”

“Y-Yes.”

“Good.” he says, “I think I’m going to cum all over you.” she laughs breathlessly, he always got mouthy when he was close, “Or in your mouth,” the image was almost too much, his eyes nearly rolling back,  “O-Or just inside, fuck…god…” 

It’s the one thrust that pushes her to the edge and Beatrice bites down on her palm, legs spasming as her orgasm hits with enough force to make her see stars. Rooster watches fascinated, mouth parting into a smirk as he goes after his own orgasm, “Fuck I love you so much.” 

“I love you too.” she whispers, cupping his face, “I’m so proud of you Roos.” that did it. He hunched over her and screamed into her shoulder, thrusting sporadically with his orgasm making all of his muscles melt as a wave of calm heat darts from his feet to his head. It’s like..he feels fuzzy, that’s the best way to describe it. 

Once he’s done, he lets her drop her leg down and they stay like that, immobile, trying to regain her breathing. Her hand comes up to touch his hair and he shudders, feeling her fingernails scratching his scalp, “...this was the best promotion gift ever.” he confesses,breathing hard and she laughs, just as breathlessly as he was.

[lyn-js]

Dancing under the Moonlight | Chapter 4. Truth Unraveled

Bradley Bradshaw x OC Reader (Nickname Honey)

Summary: After the Uranium Mission, Bradley Bradshaw decides he wants to settle down. Maybe even start a family at some point in time. But he felt so tired (and old) to be in the dating scene. That's until he sees a beautiful new bartender at The Hard Deck. Not only that; turns out she's Penny's niece, Beatrice. They both hit it off amazing, but for some reason, Beatrice isn't letting her walls down yet. But Bradley is going to get to the bottom of what Bea's big secret is.

Warnings: Swearing, angst, drinking, mentions of past abuse, fluff, eventually smut 18+, age gap (24 & 35)

(Bradley’s POV)

I was jumping out of the Bronco making my way into the bar. Just a usual Friday night, hanging out with the squad. I wish Bea was here with us, but we talked earlier, and said she and the girls had to work at the diner for a couple hours. I don’t know why, but when she was talking she seemed a little distracted. Like she was doing something on the other end. I wanted to ask her, but I’m not going to make her answer me when she does feel like it. I’m not going to be the type of boyfriend that will question her every move. I sure as hell won’t be that asshole that treated her with disrespect. I try not to get mad when thinking about it. All I know right now is that she is in a safer place. I try and distract myself when I see the group, and waving me over.

As I get over to the guys, I can hear some of them talking about another bar they wanted to xstop at. When I ask them what they were talking about Phoenix steps up to the plate as fast as humanly possible.

“Oh we were talking about this club that’s in San Diego, I think it’s called The Glamor Lounge. It’s a nice dance lounge. Actually, Chantal works there, can wait to see her.” I was taken back a little. Why would Bea lie to me about Chantal working with her? I think to myself. I still don’t want to think about this too much, so I go back to the present and see where we all want to go.

We all agree that we want to “The Glamor Lounge’, I sit in the parking lot looking at the big arch with the big neon sign with stars all aligned on it. Seems like a nice place. I hop out and try and catch up to the squad. 

Let’s see where the night leads us.

When we reach the inside, we go down a flight of stairs. When we reach the bottom, there are large windows showing the inside of the lounge. People taking, having drinks, we see some people up on stage dancing.

But we’re stopped by a man who has a mysterious look. We all give confused looks until he speaks up. “We may have no windows, but this is the best view you’ll get in San Diego. That’ll be $70.” he looks at all of us. So, we all hand Nat each 10 bucks from our wallets.

“What is this place, like a strip club?” Jake sneaks up next to Nat. We all look at the man, and he looks appalled. “A strip club? I should wash your mouth out with jagermister. The only pole you’ll find in there is Ashley the shot girl.” We all try out hard not to laugh because Jake made a complete ass out of himself. But none of us are complaining. Nat hands over the money, and the man opens the doors and tells us to enjoy.

Once we get in, we all grab drinks from the bar, and squeeze into a booth near the back, but close enough to see the stage. So far, we’re all having a good time, laughing, telling jokes, and still not letting Jake down for making an ass of himself. But we all quiet down when we see the house light die down to an even darker setting, and the spotlights circling around the red curtains. We see the darkened fabric being pulled up from its spot and see the silhouette of 8 girls on stage. A couple of seconds later we look over and hear a band start playing music. Then we see the spotlight fall on a couple of the girls.

My eyes widen when I see the girl in the center of the group. It can’t be?

It’s Beatrice and the rest of the girls. I see her ascend from them, and dance to the beat of the music.

Why would she lie to me? I wouldn’t be mad. But she shouldn’t have to keep this from me.

I snap out of my thoughts when she sees me and the group. I can see her eyes widen, but continues to dance and finish her routine with the girls. Trying to focus and not mess up. When the dance is finished, I can see her go off stage before the curtain is down. A couple of minutes later I hear a ring from my phone. I see that It was from Bea.

Honey🐝: Can you go wait by the bar? I’ll explain everything. Please don’t leave.

I can’t believe she thinks I would leave her.

You: I wasn't gonna leave anyway, Honey. I’ll wait for you. You know that. Plus I wanna see that little number you had up on stage.😏

Honey: Okay. See you soon. 

I get up from the booth and make my way to the bar.

(Your POV)

I have never wanted to die on the spot in my entire life, up until this very moment. I wasn't expecting the squad to show up tonight, let alone Bradley.

It was a typical night at the club. Dancing, getting changed into our different costumes, going back on stage, repeat.

I was on for a group number with all the girls when it started, I was my usual self. Feeling the music, letting all of my problems melt away, and finally being free from my stressful life. Up until the point where I locked eyes with someone, I could make out who I was at first. But when the main spotlight was off of me, I finally could see who was all in the crowd. I lock eyes with the person again, I just wanted to curl up into a ball onstage. Obviously, I couldn’t do that, so I just kept my cool and pretended that nothing had happened.

As we all rounded back up when the group number ended, I made sure the curtain was closed enough so I could rush off stage and try and text Bradley, and make sure he did run off. I really liked him, he was different, he made you feel special, he made you feel like you were worth something in this world. He asked me to be his girlfriend a couple of weeks ago, and ever since then We always spent time off together whenever we can. 

After the little altercation, he would show up to the bar when I would have my shift, just to make sure I was okay. I told him he did have to do that, but he insisted that he wanted to, and that was final. So I didn’t bring it up ever again. He would show up at Penny’s house, to have movie nights, snuggle, and have the occasional make-out session. I wouldn’t trade that for the world. I would do anything to keep those amazing times with him. But right now it feels like those memories are all slipping away just because I wasn’t bold enough to tell Bradley what I do for work. Just even thinking about losing him gets me teary-eyed.

I walk back to the dressing room in search of my phone, open my messages, and try to text him as fast as possible, not really caring if I misspell anything. I just need him to listen, even if it’s only for a couple of seconds.

When he said we could talk at the bar, I sighed in relief, almost crying tears of joy. You tell Chantal about what happened, and she wishes you good luck also trying to give words of encouragement like ‘Go get your man babes’ but I’ll take what I can get.

As I’m walking towards the bar, I try to calm my nerves the best I can, trying to calm down my beating heart, rubbing my sweaty palms on my legs, getting the redness out of my cheeks. But all of that stress goes away when I make it up to Bradley. Before he can even get a word out, I start pouring out my whole soul.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier, I was just nervous you wouldn’t like me if I told you I was a burlesque dancer. I didn’t want you to hate me…I’m sorry.” He already knows what to do. He grabs one of my hands and puts it on his chest, letting me listen to his heartbeat. “Hey, hey, hey. Calm down, I don’t hate you, Honey,” He says in a calm tone. Which I’m very surprised by. I would have expected him to get mad, break up, and tell me he never wanted to see me again. But I try to remind myself, that he’s not Zeke. He’s not the bad guy. But I try and put that in the back of my mind for now, focus on the moment, and listen to his soft heartbeat.

I eventually calmed down and heard Bradley speak up again. “I want you to go slow, okay baby?” I nod as I continue to try and get my breathing back to normal.

“I'm just sorry I didn’t tell you.” I just want to bury my head in the sand, I just couldn’t imagine what he thinks of me now. “I’m not mad Honey, I’m a little bit surprised though. You were really good up there baby.”

“I knew this would happen… wait what?” I looked up at him questioning what he just said. “If this is what you want. If this makes you happy. I’m for it,” he says with an assured smile. “So you're not gonna force me to quit because I look like a slut, and I use my body to make money.” I just spew out of your uncontrollable mouth. I watch Bradley’s expression change from reassuring to concerned.

“Why would I ever say that about you, Honey? You are not any of those things. You were amazing up there.” He comes closer to me to whisper in my ear. “Plus you look super fucking hot when you were moving that beautiful body too.” He says in a low burly type voice.

That made chills run all across my body, and my cheeks heated up from embarrassment. I try to push him away from me playfully but he comes back to your side, even closer than he was before. “You look amazing in this outfit, I just want you to myself,” he says in a low tone again. Just as I was about to say something to him, I got called over by Sean saying you were up for the next number.

“I guess I gotta go, I’ll see you later,” I go up to kiss him, but he already beat me to it. But this kiss wasn’t just a kiss. This kiss was so heated, and filled with so much passion, I didn’t even realize that he moved away, but when I did notice, I immediately chased after his lips. “I'll see ya later, Honey. Okay?” I give a small ‘yea’ and make my way backstage again.

Turns out this night just got better.

After a couple more numbers at the club, it was time for all of us to go home. When we all come out from the back, we see all of the squad at the bar finishing their last sips of beer from their bottles, and chatting with the owner, Tess. 

Tess was like a second mother to me. When I first arrived at the club, she was sweet and caring, the first real big fight Zeke and I had he threw me out in the pouring rain with nowhere to go. I didn’t want to go to Aunt Penny’s because I didn’t want her to be involved with my three-ringed circus of a life. So, I decided to go to Tess. She helped me the best ways she could. But anytime she would put the motherly role on her, I only wished my real mom was with me more.

Missing her warm and big hugs, little kisses on the head, calming me down when I was having bad dreams, saying ‘I love you” to her. I didn’t even notice that I shed a single tear down my cheek. But I see Braldey come over to me. “You okay, Honey?” he asks as he wipes the tear of my cheek.  You just give him one look and it seems all of your problems melt away. “Yeah, I’m okay. Just wanna head home.” You reach up and give him a little peck on the mouth. Then he wraps his arm around you, says your goodbyes, and heads out.

As we’re making our way to Braldey’s Bronco, for some reason I felt riled up, the heat pulled from my stomach all the way down to my hole. As we reached the passenger door, I don’t know what happened, I just grabbed the collar of his Hawaiian shirt and brought our lips into a searing kiss. He was first hesitant with the kiss, but then he began to take over.

I try and break away from him, but he chases after my lips and takes my bottom one between his teeth. Both of our chests are heaving, trying to catch air. But when I finally opened my eyes, and see he had a look of regret on his face.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” I ask him with concern laced in my voice. I’m sorry> I shouldn’t have done that to you. You were trying to back away but I kept going.” I try to stop Bradley before he even continues. “Hey, don’t blame yourself. I’m the one who started this. Plus I couldn't stop thinking about what you said to me earlier at the bar.” You try and hide your face away from him when to speak. Just even thinking about the interaction made your cheeks heat up again. 

He stops you before you can hide your face in your hoodie and brings your face up to look at him. But I know you're not ready, and I'm sorry.” “No, I want this, I’m ready. You’re the first person I felt safe with in a long time.” You put your palm against his cheek and see him nuzzle more into your hand. I bring my lips to him to give him a little kiss. When I move away again I mumble something on his lips.

“I’ve been wet ever since you told me, so yeah, I really want this.” I see him move away, and see his face. It looked like his eyes were about to pop out of his head.

So then I see him give me a quick peck, open my door and help me in, and see him run over to the driver's side to get in and move his seat back a little bit. He pats his thighs, and gestures to me that I sit down there. “You really want this. Honey, then I do too.” Without hesitation, I move over from the passenger seat to Bradley’s lap.

I immediately start rolling my hips into his crotch, starting to feel his cock getting harder between me. As I slip my hand between us to unbutton his pants. I feel his hand grab onto mine. “I’m fine right now Honey. Let me take care of you. Okay?” I let out a small ‘okay’ before my voice is being taken over by wanton moans.

I can feel his hands snake up into my sweatshirt and graze my ribs, going even higher and brushing against my bra. “You have no idea how bad I wanted this. I was getting hard when I saw you moving up there. I had to go the bathroom twice to get rid of my hard-on.” “well I’m glad I satisfied a customer tonight.” 

we both end up letting out a chuckle but resume our heated makeout in the car.

A couple of seconds later I felt his hands move higher until he was almost engulfing my breast over my bra. I decide to take off my top and bra together and toss it into the backseat. As soon as I saw Bradley look up at me, I just started to cover my chest, feeling out of place and starting to think this was a mistake. 

As I try and grab my sweatshirt from the backseat, suddenly I feel Bradley push me back to the steering wheel. “Don't hide from me. You’re just… so beautiful.” 

Without a second thought, he started to attack my chest. Wrapping his mouth around my nipple, feeling them start to pebble in his mouth. And feel his hand pich the other between his pointer and thumb.

I feel him move his mouth and latch on to the other. I start to grind harder, leaning my head back and letting out the loudest moans possible. “I’m so c-close Bradl-ley!” I squeak out. “Me too, Honey. You ready to cum for me, baby?” I just start babbling nonsense, not being able to think at this point.

But I do know what I want to do. I know he said he wanted to take care of me but come on. He was getting me off in a car. Not a very comfortable place to do these things. So I once again snake my hands through our bodies unzip his jeans and release him from his boxers. I see it bob up against his stomach. 

“H-holy shit your hudge.” I look down again and see a precum leaking out of the tip. 

“Someday you’ll be able to take this whole thing, Honey. You're gonna feel so perfect around me. Like you’re gonna be made for me, baby,” he reaches into my sweatpants and starts to rub little circles into my bundle of nerves. Then I lick my palm and move my hand up and down his huge member. 

I can start to feel the band in my belly tighten. “Oh shit. Pleasedontstop Bradley. I’m so fucking close.” “Me too Honey.” We both start to move faster touching each other. As soon as I feel the band snap, I see stars burst when I close my eyes. I’ve never felt like that ever, nobody has ever made me cum that intense before. I feel Bradley shutter beneath me and feel his cum rope into my hand. We both start breathing heavily.

“Well, I didn’t expect to get off in a car tonight. Lucky me.” we both laugh together again, and I speak up. “I’m really glad it’s you Bear,” I mumble into his shoulder. “What’s Bear?” he asked me with furrowed brows. “You big and strong like a Bear. Plus I know you’ll protect me from anything. So you’re my Bear now.” I say to him as I hide my face in his neck again.

“Well, I’m glad it’s you too, Honey.” He says to me pulling me into a searing kiss. We stay like that for a couple more minutes, then we wipe each other off with some wipes he had in his car.

Once we were fully clothed again, Bradley put the car in drive and we were on our way to Aunt Penny’s.

As we’re driving down the road I can feel him grab my hand from my lap and put it up to his mouth to kiss my knuckles. He doesn’t let me go and rest our intertwined hands together on the center console. I feel butterflies erupt in my stomach. 

I’ve never felt this way before, never this much love and affection in a relationship. Hell, I’ve never had that intense of an orgasm before, let alone in a car. Whenever I’m around Bradley I feel, special and like I belong to someone. So, I turn my head to the window, letting my eyes flutter close and finally feeling a sense of comfort, and care for once.

Reblogs are always welcome. Unless you're under 18. I will block you. and comment if you want to be added to the taglist. If I forgot anybody message me and let me know. You will be added.

Taglist: @caitsymichelle13 @shanimallina87 @angelbabyyy99 @callsign-magnolia @nerdgirljen

dividers by @saradika

[cherrycherish]

Nun Belly. Pregnancy? Vore? Unbirth? You decide~

"Sister Cynthia!" Beatrice hissed as Cynthia pulled her close, "What are you--"

Cynthia forced the naked woman into her drooling maw, moaning as she was gulped down deeper and deeper. Before she knew it, Beatrice was stuck inside the belly of her captor along with Sister Adelaide, despite her struggling.

The days were becoming more difficult as more and more people were being pulled into Cynthia's growing body, Sister Lorna and Sister Mina had gotten gobbled up by her small breasts the night before, leaving them juicy and full, and now both Sisters Adelaide and Beatrice had been pulled into her gut after showering. Just how has all of this happened? And what would she do now?

Cynthia let out a loud belch as she rubbed her tumultuous belly, her clothes wouldn't possibly fit over such girth. She found Adelaide's clothes, finding that they fit her width well enough, but needed to be hemmed at the skirt. She went about collecting the remaining clothes to not draw suspicion and quietly slipped out of the showers and back to her room.

Once in the privacy of her room, she opened the window and sat on her bed, waiting for her late night visitor to come see her again.

Dozing in and out of sleep, eventually her visitor returned, his beauty gleaming like a star. An angel had been coming to her in the night.

"Two?" He asked, watching her belly churn noisily.

"Urp, yes, they were alone in the showers so it was fairly easy."

"Undress."

Cynthia did as ordered, standing before him naked and full. He laid a hand on her round belly and some of his light sank into her skin. She shivered as he withdrew.

"You will stretch now to carry as much as you desire. And no one will think it odd if they see your growth."

"Ah, alright...?" She said, "So, you want me to eat more?"

"All of them. Then, I will return."

Cynthia blinked and he was gone, leaving her to wonder what was to come.

During prayer Cynthia ate all of the others, one after the next, in each pew, until they were all crammed inside of her aching writhing belly or her bulging breasts. Being able to stretch as much as needed was nice, but it didn't save her from being too full to move, so once everyone had been eaten, she was stuck in place, naked as the day she was born, burping and waiting for her visitor.

Her giant belly had all day to digest, but by the time her visitor arrived she still couldn't move, her gut was just slightly softer and sloshy.

"You did well." He gave her belly a pat and her stomach seemed to start working even faster against her feast.

"What now? Bwoooooorp!" She clung to her belly as she burped loudly.

Her visitor snapped his fingers and suddenly she was outside in a wide grassy field, alone.

"Hello?" She called into the night, wondering what was going on, and where he'd gone, "Hellooo?"

She lay there, atop her huge churning gut for a while, worrying that someone would find her in this state, but also worrying that maybe no one would find her.

Eventually someone did approach her from the treeline, a lone man, tall and strong and painted with scars.

"Hello..." She said meekly, followed by her belly making a loud groan.

"Hello~" the stranger purred, "You look like you've had quite a feast, hm?"

She blushed, "Y-Yes... I'm stuck..."

He grinned, "So I can see."

The stranger walked around to her behind and hummed in approval. He said something she didn't understand and suddenly lots of people were coming over from the forest, many of whom wasted no time in climbing up her form and into her cunt. She moaned as more and more of them pushed their way into her womb, making her cum again and again. The stranger was the last to climb inside her, leaving her alone once more, but now with an overactive womb.

Suddenly she was in a large palace of some sort, looking around, she spotted her visitor, "What's going on? Where are we?"

"A safe breeding ground. I had to use you as a honey pot, to attract those vulgar demons. Look at how many went inside, and now they're all stuck inside for purification." He smiled at the angry movement in her belly.

"I don't understand..."

"By consuming the other sisters, your holy cleansing power is condensed together, and your body became a purifying vessel for demons to be reformed. Once they've all regressed you'll grow them as angel pups inside of you. You're not the only one either, look." He waved his hand to show other huge pregnant sows, their bellies flabby and wriggling with life, "You can eat as much as you want, waddle about as much as you want, cum as much as you want, and you're doing a precious service to the world, we can't have enough angels, and these pitiful demons couldn't resist the pull of your warm womb, they'll be much happier as your brood."

"They can't get out?"

"No, they're locked inside. They'll be born after a long long time purifying within you."

She blinked, "Okay..." Just how long would it take?

"As a reward," he smiled, "I'll make sure you have everything your heart desires."

Cynthia smiled back, she suddenly wanted to stay pregnant as long as possible.

[colourful-void]

alright closing umineko for the night!! i had a great time with it so far!! i really like the writing style, and for the most part its actually a lot less dense than i was expecting. I thought it might be some house of leaves stuff but no this is pretty easy to read, at least so far! im rlly glad for that like it doesn't feel too simple, not too complicated, its good!

current character thoughts run down, though i've barely started so i dont know much yet: ginzo: he sucks he totally sucks and im convinced that he made some kidna deal w/ beatrice in order to take advantage of the earthquake and war and such. not entirely convinced hes not about to just murder the whole family bcs he seems like he would do that. krauss: also sucks. just a real dick, but in like. he's a standard asshole really. natsuhi: much in the same vien, but she's got that matriach of the family thing going on i hope will b explored more <3 jessica: she's neat i like her! looking forward to more on her. Eva: i was digging for her a while and then i saw how she treated shannon and it went out the window hideyoshi: ive yet to expirence a thought on this man George: he's very tropey in a good way and i enjoy he's friendly guy swag. looking forward to it inevitably falling to pieces rudolf: DICK!! kyrie: girl leave your husband. i can treat u better <3, im glad she has some decency but my mind aint set on her yet battler: HES SO CRINGEEEE <333333333333333333333333333333333333333333 sometimes he does genuinely offput me but mostly he's just stupid <3 rosa: be a bit nicer to ur daughter, but beyond that shes chill i think. no big thoughts here. i do like her dynamic in relation to the rest of the siblings so far maria: MARIA MY DARLING MY DEAREST SHES SO SWEET AND SILLY AND CLEARLY OMINOUS I CANT WAIT TO SEE WHAT DARK MAGICS OVERTAKE HER OR WHATEVER <333 maria for whatever the fuck she wants 2024 love her so much no crazy thoughts on the head butler or doctor but i think in a different world the butler and ginzo had crazy gay sex shannon: shes soooo sweetie <3 suspiciously so this game wants me to like her so bad and i do <3. i am aware of one key spoilery fact about shannon uncovered in some content warnings i recieved, but its kinda fun seeing the set up for that! everyone be nicer to my girl kanon: hes suspcious but overly so and i wonder what his deal is. i also think all the servants need to be treated better this fucking furnature stuff <3 its awful i love it narratively gohda: i think he would kill someone with very little hesitation. i wanna try that panna cotta. kumasawa: shes like a grandma to me <333 i like her!!

i havent met beatrice yet but im looking forward to it she looks super neat.

i also apperciate how slow burn this is, a few hours in and very little has happened yet it's nice. there's already a lot building but like. nothing big yet it's nice. i like it. it feels like it's moving at exactly the pace it wants to and i enjoy it a lot. the sound design is also rlly good. the music is really nice a couple times i got distracted and just listened to it in the bg. the sfx r nice too.

i do not regret my sprite choice i like these designs they're fun, but i do think maria looks a little off for her alleged age of 9, but it's easy to ignore after a min or two.ironically when i was loading the game and saw her on the steam page it def aligned better, but at the cost battler to my eyes is now yassified. he cant be a pretty boy to me he's too lame.

voice acting is great everyones putting fucking everyting into it and i enjoy that. fully commited to the enviroment and its great.

where i left off: everyone just finished having lunch! kumasawa covered for shannon not knowing the red sauce's ingredients. that's all for now! not sure when ill paly more, probably tomorrow, but its been good!! good game so far i like this setg up!! im also eagar to get more into the murder and violence and witch stuff but like, it does a good joib of setting up the characters so i dont feel impatient, and unlike a lot of games w/ murder n mystery that get right into it i kinda find it refreshing how slow this one is to start its like we all know itll get there so the tension of everyone being relatively calm is great.

anyway, umineko day 1: it was good =D

[calciumdeficientt]

BUCKY HCS

BUCKY OH MY GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHD. IF BUCKY HAS NO FANS IM DEAD I LOVE THAT WHITE BOY. I cried while writing these. Idk what that says about me but it definitely says something.

BUCKY PASTEUR HCS

Starting off on a very strong foot, I’m gonna explain the ‘Bucky incident’ that I mentioned in my Thad hcs post (go read that btw). So basically the nerds were playing Star Wars on the steps outside the library, with those very sturdy, screen accurate lightsabers that all the cosplayers have, and poor Bucky, bless his little heart, got far too invested in the game, lunged forwards with his lightsaber, slipped on a piece of wet moss on the steps and fell. His lightsaber broke his fall and he sort of half-impaled himself on the tip of it. He didn’t break any skin or anything, but the sturdy PVC plastic broke two of his ribs and ruptured his appendix. Poor kid.

Head builder and painter of the G&G mini figures, in his free time you can usually find him underneath Dragon’s Wing in their little lair, with one of those magnifying headset things on, painting away. He has a keen eye for detail, and it really shows. He takes great care in studying his friends character sheets and making sure the paining is reflective of their personalities, even down to the bases. He’s got great technique, from dry-brushing for shading, to colour theory and palette matching, down to hand sculpting pieces when official G&G merchandise doesn’t suffice. Sometimes he goes upstairs to get guidance from Zack but nine times out of ten its his own handiwork.

Very happy go lucky despite being beaten within an inch of his life every day. That insane amount of bullying is enough to make anyone a nihilist, but I think Bucky always finds a way to put a positive spin on everything and. That is just… so commendable. He’s a stronger man than I I’ll tell you that. He’s such a sweet kid, how could you want to pick on him when Earnest is RIGHT THERE.

Speaking of Earnest, he really really hated the whole concept of the Paparazzi mission, especially publicly showing those indecent images of Mandy. He couldn’t even fathom the idea of showing the small ones off as blackmail. He hates the jocks just as much as the next nerd, and the way Mandy treats Beatrice isn’t exactly tasteful, but he’s emotionally mature enough to know that not only was plastering those posters all over town fucking creepy, it was also a CRIME.

Does super well in Hattrick’s math class but absolutely DESPISES his way of teaching it. Hattrick has a very black and white view of maths. It’s either right or wrong, and the only way to solve problems is it do it is his way, any other solution is blatantly wrong. Bucky thinks it’s such a boring and narrow way to look at a subject that’s just bursting with possibilities. In his free time he researches pure mathematics, he thinks its such a wonderful show of the fact that maths isn’t just about practical application, but the beauty of figuring out the logical consequences of basic mathematic principles when applied to abstract objects. He finds it so wonderfully interesting.

He loves his granny so much dude (I may or may not be sobbing over this right now he’s such a fucking cutie patootie.) he goes over to her house on the weekends and has tea. She doesn’t understand half of what her grandson says but she’s happy to know that he’s growing up into a nice polite young man, and is doing well at school. He’s also kind enough to help her around the house with all the chores she has trouble doing during the week. Taking her trash out, cleaning her kitchen surfaces and vacuuming up. He’s her helpful little chipmunk, even if he’s nowhere near as chubby as he used to be when he was a baby.