#PLEASE THE TIME SKIP ROBBED US OF SO MUCH

[babybluebex]

telling robert fischer you’re pregnant idec don’t look at me you KNOW how i feel about babies

yes yes, you are a FIEND for the babies, i'm aware of this... lucky for you, i am too 😈 also i tweaked this a little tiny bit to be more like what i texted you about sooooooo

Ever since Robert split the company, he had been happier. Of course, he really only split it because of you... And him.

"Mikey, just one more spoonful of carrots, then you can have a cookie," you heard your husband say from the dining room, and you nervously looked down at the bathroom counter. The plastic test had been saying the same thing for the past ten minutes, and, every time you looked back at it, your heart thumped with adrenaline. But no, it couldn't be. Michael was hardly 11 months old, and he took up most of your time; you and Robert had only had sex twice (three times, if him kneeling between your legs while Michael was napping counted) in the past six months. While it certainly wasn't impossible, it just seemed so soon.

When you finally left the bathroom, you found your boys sitting at the table, Robert spooning mashed carrots into his son's mouth, his own dinner cold and forgotten. When you had first gotten pregnant with Michael, you were worried about how much time Robert spent at the office and if he would be able to be there for his son. To your surprise, though, Robert had come through for you. He had used his father's alternate will that split up the company in order to take time for you and his son, and, even though the inheritance was smaller than Robert would have wanted, it meant he got to be with you and Michael. And there for you he was; he worked from home every day except for Fridays, he went with you to every doctor's appointment— even when you went into labor on a Friday morning, he skipped out of his meetings for the rest of the day to be with you. Robert was the best father you could have asked for, always prioritizing Michael before himself, and it made you pleased to know that fatherhood had completely changed him. You loved the Robert that you used to know, but Robert as a dad just made sense.

"Rob?" you said quickly. "I need to talk to you."

He looked at you with worry in his eyes, and Michael glanced at you. He was the spitting image of his father, dark downy hair and clear blue eyes, and he smiled his toothy little smile at you and squealed, slamming his hands down onto his high-chair tray. He started to babble, looking at Robert as he said "Da-da-da!", and Robert nodded slowly.

"Is something wrong?" he asked, and you hugged yourself as you shook your head.

"Just..." you started softly.

"Just what, sweetheart?" Robert asked, sounding a little urgent.

You sat down next to him at the table and wiped up Michael’s chin, covered in carrots, and you sighed. “I think I’m pregnant,” you said, and you watched Robert’s face turn from one of worry to one of surprise.

"Oh!" he said. "Well, that's good! I was worried it was gonna be something bad."

"I want to go to a doctor and get a test done," you told him, and you watched him pull Michael from his high chair, settling him easily on his hip.

"Alright," Robert agreed easily.

"Robbie," you said quickly. "Do you not hear me?"

"I hear you, sweetheart," Robert told you.

"Well?" you asked. "We can't have a toddler and a baby running around! It'll be too hectic! And Mikey is still a lot of work, we'll be stretched so thin with him and a newborn."

"I think we'll be fine," Robert said. He held tightly onto Michael as he reached down into the pantry for his son's favorite cookies, the shortbread kind with a thin chocolate on the bottom, and he turned back to you for a moment. "I'll just take less hours at the office."

"You already don't have that many hours," you said softly. "I just... I'm just worried, y'know? I don't know if I can do that."

Michael grabbed at the cookie in Robert's hand, and Robert gave his son a playful scowl. "We ask before we take things, Mikey," he said. "Here, ask nicely."

Michael reached out his chubby little fist again, but this time he babbled away a quick "Dada!". Robert smiled and broke the cookie into a smaller piece, more manageable for Michael, and your son pushed it between his lips, gnawing on it with his growing teeth. Robert came back to the table, handing Michael off to you, and you held your son firmly, sighing.

"I think you can do that," Robert said finally. "You're a strong woman, and such a good mother. I mean, you already take care of me and Mikey so well. I think you're capable of more than you think you are."

"But..." you started, bouncing Michael lightly. You shook your head lightly, and Robert leaned forward, resting a gentle hand on your knee.

"You're not alone," Robert told you. "You've got me here for you, no matter what. Alright? We're gonna do this together."

You pressed your lips together and sighed through your nose, and you watched your son eat his cookie for a minute. His big blue eyes caught your gaze, and he extended his hand to you, giving you the sloppy, gnawed-on remnants of his cookie, and you couldn't help but smile. "Thank you," you whispered to him, taking it into your hand, and you looked back up at Robert. "If you say so, Robbie. We have to think of more names."

"I hope it's a girl," Robert said, reaching out to pinch Michael's belly. "You want a sister, Mikey? A little sister?" Michael giggled and squirmed in your arms, obviously wanting down so he could play, and your smile grew.

"I want another boy," you said. "Just have a bunch of little rascals running around."

"Who says a girl can't be a rascal?" Robert asked. "She can be whatever she wants to be."

"That's true," you chuckled. "Can you try to get me a doctor's appointment for later this week?"

"Sure," Robert said. "Did you take a drugstore test?"

"Yeah," you told him. "Just a few minutes ago."

"Why?" Robert asked. "What made you think to do that?"

"Well, I'm late, for one thing," you started. "And I'm getting that same sick feeling whenever I eat that I did back when I was in my first trimester."

"Okay," Robert said softly. "Well, we'll go later and see what the verdict is. But, I'll let you know, if it is a girl, I'll start crying."

"Oh, whatever," you giggled, and you leaned over Michael to kiss Robert softly. "My big crybaby."

#bex answers #soph 🧸 #robert fischer x reader #dad!robert fischer x mom!reader #cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader

[jo-harrington]

On-the-Job Training (A Store Manager Verse Story - Steve Harrington/Reader)

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader

Summary: Steve has a crush on the Dippin' Dots cashier.

Warnings/Themes: AU where the Upside Down doesn't terrorize Hawkins. Late Summer of 1985, Steve and Robin work at Scoops, Reader works at Dippin' Dots, Mutual Pining, Flirting, Enemies to Lovers(sort of?), Tie in with the Store Manager Verse

Note: Ok what started off as a silly little conversation about what flavor chapstick each ST character would use turned into this and I typically don't write Steve...but I had to give him some love.

Tagging my loves who were integral to that convo to thank them for inspiration especially Drac who started it all. This is for you bb. @dr-aculaaa @mopeymopeymouse @chestylarouxx @somnambulic-thing @fracturedarkness @br0ck-eddie

Technically slightly anachronistic because Dippin' Dots didn't open until 1988 but I'm a stickler for accuracy in the regular series. This is just a fun little do-dad.

You can find my masterlist here for more fics featuring pretty much exclusively Eddie Munson content but also a little Steve.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Largely unedited; I didn't even re-read it. It's might suck. Enjoy!

---

"Ahoy! One U.S.S. Butterscotch!"

Steve never thought that this would be his future after graduation.

This summer he should have been living it up before he went away to college and made something of himself. Lifeguarding at the pool, going to all the parties, hanging out with his friends.

Instead, his life went to shit, Nancy Wheeler had broken up with him, he had gotten rejection letter after rejection letter from the schools he had applied to...and instead of working at the pool like he had every summer since he turned 16, he had a crappy job slinging ice cream at Scoops Ahoy of all places at the new StarCourt Mall.

"Thanks so much," the sweet lady who had placed the order smiled at him and handed the sundae to her son. "Look at that Frankie, your favorite." The little boy shot Steve a grin complete with his two front teeth missing and Steve melted a little bit.

Alright, it wasn't so bad. He got to make people smile, he got some spending money--which was nice since his dad had pretty much cut him off, although his mom was sneaking him some cash on the side.

"Look alive dingus," Robin called from the window separating the front of the ice cream parlor from the backroom. "Your schmoopsie poo is here."

"Shut up Rob!" Steve groaned through gritted teeth.

One of the perks of working at the mall was that he got to interact with people of all shapes and sizes and yeah...Steve had tried to use it as a means to get over Nancy. He'd had little hours-long crushes on fellow mall employees, customers, Robin--although working with her made that difficult--hell there was even a manager that had caught his eye towards the beginning of summer except he'd seen Eddie "The Freak" Munson of all people hanging around her.

Although after a few months of seeing Eddie around StarCourt not being a wastoid menace, Steve had to admit...well he wasn't that bad either.

The one who'd caught his eye the most though was you, and yeah...he'd developed an actual big little long-lasting crush.

You, who came around for a root-beer float most afternoons.

You, whose smile made his heart skip a little.

You in your pink polo, teal apron, and white visor with the words Dippin' Dots emblazoned on the front.

The enemy.

And you never let him forget it either.

Steve had been heart eyes over you the first time you had entered into Scoops territory to order your float. Undercover in casual summer clothes a week after the mall had opened. There was just something about you, your smile, your laugh.

Robin teased that he said that about everyone; Steve ignored her.

Then you opened your mouth and said the float was good but the service could have been better. That Steve should stop by Dippin' Dots sometime and see how it was really done.

Shots fired.

It really hurt at first. This was his first real job outside of the community pool, one he had been excited to get. He was really nice, tried his best; why didn't you think so?

"It's called flirting," Robin insisted. "God, you really suck, you know that? How can you ask people out willy nilly and then miss someone flirting with you right in front of your face? Flirt back next time."

So he did.

Every so often he'd mosey across the mall to your kiosk, order a small vanilla cup, and throw a little insult of his own your way. Usually something about how tiny balls of ice cream could never beat an actual scoop. Or about how you didn't count his change the right way, or that your visor was on crooked.

You wouldn't hesitate to get your own comment in. Especially about his choice in flavor.

"You work at an ice cream parlor and you order vanilla?" you questioned. "A hundred flavors to choose from at scoops; do you only get vanilla there too? Vanilla...is good but when you have variety? Order something exciting one day, and then we can talk business, Stevie."

Oof, it steamed him.

But not enough to stop playing the game.

And it left you both grinning so who was he to end the fun.

So when you showed up at Scoops today after not being around for a few days and your smile didn't reach your eyes like it usually did...Steve was suddenly overcome with...well he didn't really know.

"Ahoy, uh, sailor," he greeted and tried to put on his biggest award-winning, tip-earning smile.

"Ahoy," you replied weakly.

"Root beer float?" he asked, already heading over to the case to start scooping ice cream into a cup.

"Uh," you hesitated. "No, just...just a small vanilla cup today."

Steve froze and looked at you. Your shoulders were slumped, you had your visor in your hand, and you were pointedly avoiding eye contact with him.

What was...what was wrong with you?

Where was your fight? Where was your fire? Why, all of a sudden, was your game over?

"Hey, uhm," he coughed awkwardly. "Is everything ok?"

"Yeah, Steve," you nodded absently.

"You always get root beer."

"I just want vanilla today."

"The special is salted caramel? I can give you a sample if you're--"

"No, I just want vanilla," you cut him off and rolled your eyes. "You always get vanilla. Why is it a problem if I suddenly do? Vanilla is good too. Maybe vanilla is just...what we both want ok? Nothing else."

He was shocked. That wasn't playful annoyance in your voice; you were just...annoyed.

"Sure," he agreed. "Sure. One small vanilla coming right up."

He got your ice cream and rang you out, and as you were about to leave, he called after you.

"See you in a little while?" he asked.

"If you want." You waved goodbye and headed out of the ice cream parlor.

Steve turned and looked at Robin who simply rolled her eyes and shook her head.

"What just happened?" he asked.

"You're hopeless," she sighed and slammed the shutters on the window closed.

---

Steve roamed around the mall on his break.

Typically, he'd make his way to Dippin' Dots but...that just seemed like a waste of time today.

He'd fixated on your visit for the rest of his shift until his break, analyzing everything he said, everything he did. Everything that could have made you mad at him.

Once he got Robin out of her hiding spot in the back room, he monologued all of his thoughts to her.

She watched him pace back and forth, called him a dingus a few times, a loser a few other times, and then finally sent him on his break with some last words.

"I know you're hearing everything they're saying Steve," she began. "But are you really listening? You just keep...ordering vanilla."

"Uh. Yeah. That's the game."

"It's not a game you...ughhhhh! GO!" She pointed to the exit. "Before I throttle you."

Why couldn't she just tell him? What had he done?

In his rumination, he'd been chewing at his lips. A habit he had pretty much done his entire life when he got nervous.

Shit, and he'd left his chapstick in the car; it was hot, it probably melted by now.

That was one of the little ways you made his life a little better...through your teasing. You had told him, once, that his lips looked dry.

"Maybe invest in some chapstick or something."

He'd gone to Melvald's that same night that you told him and got a 3-pack of strawberry chapstick. All the while wondering if it meant you had been looking at his lips for a while or...

But it was...just another little jab right? Another little flirt? Another part of your game?

Still, he never knew when you might show up so the chapstick became a constant--something that soothed him even, gave him courage--and he always had a tube tucked into the pocket of his shorts, or on the register, or in the cupholder of his car. To swipe on if he knew he was about to see you...or hoped he was.

And now...he desperately needed it, needed his strawberry chapstick--needed you--and it was nowhere to be found.

Steve stopped in his tracks and looked at the stores around him.

WaldenBooks, Regis Salon, JH Camera Repair.

Claires.

Bingo.

He'd seen little kids with their play makeup and sparkly plastic jewelry post up in one of the booths at Scoops after they spent their allowance money at Claire's. He had to find strawberry chapstick there. He'd even take cherry. Something.

Anything.

Steve crossed into the pink-and-purple-and-pop-music-filled oasis to a melodic "Welcome In" from the employee helping a little girl by the ear piercing booth. And as out of place as he felt, he was immediately relieved to see a wall full of eyeshadow palettes and glitter hairspray.

He closed the distance and frantically searched the wall, but it was all novelty makeup. There was one package of Dr. Pepper lip smackers, but the package was half-ripped and the cap was missing; he was a little worried but he figured it was better than nothing.

He was about to snatch it off the hook when that voice sounded behind him.

"Did you need help finding anything?" He immediately turned on his heel to find the employee--the manager, Eddie Munson's girlfriend--standing there in a flourish of tulle and fluorescent colors. "Oh! That's a customer favorite...looks like it's damaged though, let me just..."

She reached out to take the package but Steve reacted instinctually. He quickly grabbed it and clutched it to his chest.

"I don't mind," he tried to reason. "I don't care if it's missing the cap."

"Listen, I can't sell it to you if it's damaged," the manager explained. "It's just not safe. Is there anything else I can help you find though?"

She reached for the package again but he held it back.

"I need this," Steve tried again.

"Oh...kay."

"Because I messed up and this...you know the cashier down at the Dippin' Dots kiosk? Well...I don't know...I pissed them off or something and I just need to...go down and talk to them and I can't."

"So the lip balm is a gift for them? To make amends?"

"No...it's for me because my lips are dry." Steve sighed. "I...ok I know it sounds crazy, but I swear. It's...they got me to start using chapstick because they said my lips were dry and it's this thing we do. We go back and forth and we tease each other.

"But they're mad at me now, and they didn't...I mean they ordered vanilla. They never order vanilla. They hate it when I order vanilla."

"Uh huh." The manager's eyes went a little soft. "I'm not...really following the logic...but I get it."

"You do?"

"You like each other. But you're just...going back and forth. And no one has really...admitted it," she observed. She suddenly burst into laughter and Steve cocked his head to one side in confusion. "Sorry, sorry...it's just...whatafuckincoincidence.

"So are you the one who's afraid of being rejected? Or...are they...or..."

Cue the record scratch in Steve's head.

Rejection.

All summer...all year actually...Steve had been faced with one rejection after another. First Nancy, then all of the college applications, his dad and now...all of the little fleeting mall crushes that he'd asked out that had said no.

Robin had even made a scoreboard that sat in the back whenever someone turned him down.

He thought all this time...he'd become immune to it. But with you...it was easier to think it was just a game than to possibly face the reality that if he asked you out...you'd say no and then the little game would be ruined. And his hopes would be dashed.

He didn't realize that all of his waffling could potentially be hurting you too.

"Why don't you," the manager continued when Steve hesitated to answer, "go down there and talk to them? Even if they're mad at you. Communication is very important. I'm sure if you explain everything, or even...just show that you're willing to bridge the gap, they'd be willing to listen. The worst they could say is no, but if they're already mad, you have nothing to lose. See if they'll give you a chance."

"So I...shouldn't order vanilla this time?" He looked up at her and asked, recalling your words.

Order something exciting, and then we can talk business.

The door had been open for him to ask you out this whole time.

And that's why you ordered vanilla earlier. Because Vanilla meant...meant that this...flirtation...this game...wasn't going anywhere. He hadn't made a move, so you didn't want to wait anymore.

God, he was so stupid.

"Uh, no...don't do that," the manager smiled kindly. She reached out for the broken lip balm and took it from him. "I'll just...damage this out."

"Wait...but my lips are still dry," Steve floundered. "I still need chapstick."

"Do you think there's gonna be some kissing happening?" the manager's eyes narrowed. "I said talk to them, not...plant one on them."

"I just need...something," he begged. "Strawberry...if you have it."

"I think we have strawberry flavored lip gloss by the register."

"I'll take it."

---

So there Steve was, in the concourse by JCPenney, patiently waiting in the line for Dippin' Dots with sticky, strawberry-flavored lips tinted a very nice shade of pink.

As soon as he had swiped the gloss on...as silly as he had felt...he had been reminded of you.

"Next!" your voice sounded every so often and the line got shorter and shorter, and Steve's courage got weaker and weaker. The Claire's manager had been right though...communication...the worst you could tell Steve was "no."

"Next!" You'd be just another tally on Robin's scoreboard. And she could call him a dingus again. She really enjoyed doing that. So some good would at least come from his failure.

"Next!" He'd also get...a cup of Dippin' Dots which...if he had to admit, he kinda enjoyed. He got all the Scoops ice cream he wanted for free but this was different. Ice Cream of the Future and all that. He sort of expected Henderson to come up with something like this, the little nerd; well, if he could never show his face here again, he'd ask the kids if they could figure out how to make some kind of futuristic ice cream for him.

"Ne--oh!" Steve finally got to the front of the line and saw your shocked face. He smiled and waved as he approached the register.

"Hey," he greeted. "I told you I'd see you around."

"You did," you said flatly and scrunched your nose. "So...the usual? Small vanilla cup?"

"Uh no..." Steve said hesitantly. You raised an eyebrow in question. "I uh...can I get a large..."

"Large vanilla?" You sniffed.

"Large Rainbow Ice," he recited after squinting at the menu board. "It's time for something new."

You stared at him silently and Steve couldn't help but doubt himself.

What if Rainbow Ice was the wrong answer? Should he have gone with Banana Split? Shit he should have just stuck with Strawberry. It was his favorite. Strawberry chapstick, strawberry gloss, strawberry ice cream. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

"Yeah," you finally answered with a beaming smile and Steve's heart soared. "Yeah it is time for something new, isn't it?"

Next Part: Incremental Planning

#stranger things fic #Steve harrington x reader #Steve harrington fic #store manager verse #Steve harrington fluff #scoops steve

[malexmalesstuff]

Can I request Robert Pattinson x shy Boyfriend reader where Robert takes the readers virginity and lets the reader fuck his mouth and ass while praising the reader?

Requestlist

Robert Pattinson x Male Reader

warnings: this isn’t good smut. reader is 19, Robert his current age. Age gap. sad reader, kinda depressed reader? Angst ig. Shy soft dom reader. Bottom Robert. idk kinda ditched the request sorry. Girl idk what tense i wrote this in

A/n: Realised i hate writing smut.

A/n: Couldn’t think of anything further. 300 likes, 50 reblogs for a part 2.

———

“I’m home!” I heard Robert say, then a bang. You flinched, like you always do. The door was always so loud, for no reason. He just came back from filming his new movie, ‘the batman.’ He was away filming for about 4 months, not including the months during and before covid-19.

Hearing his voice, made me smile. I missed him, I missed his smile, I missed his hugs, i missed his everything. There was a difference in hearing his voice over the phone and in real life.

You felt this warmth inside you once you saw him walking in the living room, a warmth that had been gone for a long time. You tried to smile, but you hadn’t been feeling the happiest for awhile, your smile was weak. But you tried your best.

“Hey baby, are you okay?” He asked me, noticing my forced smile. I felt so weak, and happy at the same time. He rushed walked over to the big couch i was on, getting on his knees to hug me.

“Yes, i’m okay.” I lied to him, my voice was weak. As we pulled out of the hug, i grabbed his face. “please, never leave so unannounced like that ever again.” I tell him, as i feel my eyes tear up. Trying my best not to breakdown. My vision went blurry, and breathing became harder to control.

As Robert tried to speak, no words came out. His eyes started to tear up aswell, he was lost for words. Regret was the only emotion he showed, it was loud. His jaw sharpened, and he chocked on his own words.

“I-i’m sorry.” he said also trying his best not to breakdown.

- time skip (tell if you want me to make an angst fic)

We where now laying in bed, watching tv. I was laying on his bare chest, my hand on his stomach. I felt him kiss my head, giving small kisses. I moved my thumb up and down over his stomach, knowing that made him feel a certain type of way. “fuck I missed this.” He says under his breath thinking I didn’t hear him.

I wanted to continue, but I didn’t know what to do. I have never done anything like this. My heart beat start to go quicker, I heard his do the same.

“Do you want to do this?” He asked me, knowing i had never done anything like this before.

“Yes, I want to do this.”

“Okay baby.” He said as he made us switch positions, so where he was now laying on my abdomen. I was confused by this, thinking in my mind he was a top. He took off my joggers.

“Wait, ur not a top?” I asked him, confused.

“No i’m not, is that okay?” He said.

“Yes ofc, just tell me what to do?” I reassured him

“Okay, well there’s actually not so much to instruct. Just kinda go with what you think you’re supposed to do, ill tell you if you need to stop.” He tells me, with a weak but beautiful smile. I can feel my cheeks turn red.

“Okay, go ahead.” I say, giving him permission. He took this opportunity and took of my underwear. He takes it in his hand and slowly moving it up and down.

I slowly started to get harder. He started to build ip the pace, making small twisting movements now and then. It gave me this feeling, i had never felt like this before. It was hard to describe.

“Fuck, I didn’t know you were this big.” He praised me, making groaning noises. He leaned his head towards it and started to give it kisses. Then out of nowhere he wrapped his lips around it. He moved his tongue in circular motions, going slowly up and down

I moaned, at first it hurt a little. But soon after that turned into a good feeling. You wanted rob to go faster, but you were scared to do anything.

“Can i?” I asked while grabbing his hair. He nodded yes, so you went for it. Moving my hand faster. *bop* *bop* *bop* I’ve never felt anything like this before.

“Fuck, just like that.” I moaned. I was holding his had still, and fucking his mouth. Hearing muffled noises from him.

end.

#smut #gay #x male reader #x male top reader #gay smut #beast boy #lgbt fiction #robert pattinson x male reader #lgbt #filmmaking #twilight x y/n #twilight #robert pattinson #x reader #mlm #m4m #robert pattinson x reader #edward cullen x male reader #edward cullen x y/n #edward cullen #edward cullen x you #robert pattinson x y/n

[rxmqnova]

Surprise!

Y/N: 28 years old Scar: 35 years old Rose: 5 years old Story: The Marvel cast decides to surprise Scarlett with a birthday party… ——————————————————

Y/N'S POV My girlfriend and I had been trying for a baby for months. We had many fertility appointments and attempts and it finally happened! I'm pregnant! I found out a week after Scarlett left to film a movie which was 3 months ago. It sucks, cause I want to tell her personally, so she still has no idea. However, she's coming back today and it's also her birthday, so it's a perfect gift. I can't wait to see her reaction! Right now I'm watching a movie in our bed, wearing my favorite Scarlett's hoodie and her sweatpants. I miss her so much, so I tend to steal her clothes when she's away. To be honest I steal her clothes even when she's home…

Rose's spending some time with her grandmother this week, so I'm home all alone, but Lizzie offered to pick her up today, so we'll be together soon. It's nice to have some time for myself, but I miss that little demon so much. She's not biologically mine, but we have such a great relationship. She even calls me 'mama' which melts my heart every time I hear it.

My sister Lizzie spent here the entire week. She's so excited to be an auntie to another little human. I'm surprised she hasn't told Scarlett yet, the two of them are best friends.

I stop my movie as I ran out of chips, ready to go and grab a new bag from the kitchen when I hear some noise from downstairs. It can't be Scarlett, cause she's on the plane right now. She called me a few hours ago from the AirPort… Who in the world would rob a house at 2 in the afternoon?! I quickly open my closet, taking out a bat that I'd hidden here when Scarlett left. I quietly and slowly walk downstairs, ready to punch anyone who's here right now.

My heart is about to skip a beat with every step I make and my hands are shaking like crazy. I step off the last step, putting the bat on my shoulder properly and walking to the kitchen where the noise is coming from.

I see a man standing with his back facing me. I tighten my grip over the bat, ready to hit him in the head.

"What the hell are you doing here?" A man's voice says behind me, making me jump.

I slowly turn around to be met with Robert Downey Junior. The man I was about to hit turns around, looking at me. It's Chris Evans.

Seconds later there is literally the entire Marvel cast, except my sister as she's the one picking Scarlett up from the AirPort. Great…

"What are you doing here?" Chris Evans asks me. "And why the hell are you holding that bat?"

"I-I-" I sutter, getting cut off by Robert.

"She wanted to hit you with it" Robert says. The truth is that even though Scar and I are together for a few years, she hasn't come out yet. Her friends have no idea about me, so that's why they're reacting like this. My sister knows of course, she's the only one from Scarlett's friends.

"I-I'm sorry. I… I-I thought you wanted to rob the house" I finally let out some words. I've never been more scared in my life.

"Us? Who even are you? Oh my god, is that Scarlett's hoodie?" Jeremy looks at me with wide eyes. What the hell am I supposed to do now?

"Y-Yeah. I-I'm Y/N" I say.

"Well, Y/N… What are you doing in Scarlett's house?" Robert asks. "I-I'm living here" I answer. Where's my sister when I need her…

"Yeah, there's no way Scarlett wouldn't tell us if someone was living in her house" Evans says. "Call the police" He orders, looking at Robert. "What? No. That's not necessary. I'm living here" I repeat, I really don't want to get into trouble. I haven't even done anything.

"Yeah. I'm calling" Robert says, already putting his phone to his ear. I sigh, pressing a palm to my forehead. Scarlett's gonna be so mad. I bet the last thing she wants is to deal with her girlfriend being taken to the police station…

"Please don't call the police. Lizzie is my sister" I sigh, looking at Robert with hope, but he only rolls his eyes.

It doesn't take long until the police arrives. I show them my documents like they asked me to and they lead me out of the house. They're really gonna lock me up for getting into my own house?? Great, really great, Y/N…

Just before I can get into the car, a little body crashes into my legs. I smile when I see my daughter looking up at me, her arms wrapped around my thighs.

"Hi" I give her a smile which she returns, mumbling a 'hi, mama' back to me.

"Rose, what are you doing? Come here" Evans says, practically peeling Rosie off of me. The little girl starts crying, immediately calling me to help her, but my hands are in handcuffs and I can talk what I want, but nobody listens to me.

I sigh in relief when I see Lizzie walking out of her car, Scarlett following her.

"Mama!" Rosie cries out, reaching her hands for me. Tears from in my eyes when I see my little one crying and I can't hold her.

"Don't you see she's crying for me?! She's my daughter for god's sake! Take off that stupid handcuffs! I didn't do anything!" I raise my voice, tears running down my cheeks. I'm so tired of this bullshit. I just want my Scarly and Rosie to cuddle and my bag of chips.

"What's going on here? Why are you in handcuffs? Where are you taking her?" Scarlett is finally here, my sister right behind her.

"I'm sorry" I say before breaking into tears. I just can't hold it anymore. Stupid pregnancy mood swings… Scarlett comes to me, telling off the police when they tell her to stay back.

"About what, honey?" She asks, cupping my cheeks with her hands and wiping my tears out with her thumbs.

"You must be so tired and you come home to see this" I cry out. "Hey, it's okay, Y/N/N" She smiles. "Tell me what happened"

"Your friends thought I was a theif and a stalker and god knows what and they called the police on me" I explain, tears still running down my cheeks even though Scarlett's wiping them out.

"Y/N/N, I'm so sorry" She sighs. "She's not a theif or a stalker. Y/N is my girlfriend, she lives here" Scar says to the police. They finally take off the painful handcuffs and I wrap my arms around Scarlett's neck.

"Mama" Rosie cries out again. I smile, taking her from Evan's arms.

"It's okay now, baby. I'm not going anywhere" I kiss her cheek a few times, walking back to Scarlett who wraps her arms both of us.

"I missed you" Scar says into my ear while we're hugging.

"I missed you too, so much" I tell her back honestly before we pull away and in a second I get pulled into another hug by my sister. "Are you okay?" She asks with a smile.

"Yeah. All good now" I smile and hug her again.

"Can someone explain to us what's happening?" Downey asks confused.

"You called the police on my little sister, that's happening" Lizzie says annoyed. She's very overprotective over me. I usually hate it, but today it feels nice.

"That's your sister?" Evans asks surprised, pointing at me.

"Don't be so surprised, I told you I was Lizzie's sister when you were calling the police" I give him a glare. I won't forget this that quickly.

"I literally told you about her last week" Lizzie sighs.

"Why is she living in Scarlett's house though?" Jeremy asks.

"Because Y/N is my girlfriend. You could have just called me and I'd tell you it's fine" Scar sighs. "Let's just go inside"

We all move inside, everybody apologizing to me and Downey immediately handing us a glass of champagne since it's Scar's birthday.

"I won't, thanks" I tell him on which my girlfriend furrows her brows, wrapping her arms around me from behind and resting her head on my shoulder.

"You're not my Y/N. My Y/N never says no to alcohol" Scar jokes, making me chuckle.

"Well… I wouldn't say no if I didn't have to but… I can't drink for a while" I smile, turning around in her arms and getting met with a confused look from my girlfriend. I take her hand, putting it on my stomach on which she seems to realize.

"No… You're… you're pregnant?" She asks, her eyes filling with tears. I smile, nodding my head.

"I found out a week after you left. We're having a baby" I almost whisper as tears are in my eyes too by now. "Happy birthday, my love" I smile and she pulls me into a kiss.

Scarlett drags me on the couch, pushing me gently to sit down. She kneels in front of me, pulling my (her) hoodie up. I laugh when she starts spreading kisses all over my stomach.

"Hey there, little one. It's your mommy. I love you so much" She mumbles between kisses. "So we're 3 months far?" She asks, smiling at me.

"3 months" I smile back, twirling my finger around Scar's hair. She rolls my hoodie back down, sitting next to me and wrapping her arm around me on which I cuddle up to her and she rubs my stomach with her free hand. "I love you so much"

"I love you too" She smiles, pressing a kiss to my forehead. --------------------

Scarlett Johansson masterlist

Masterlist

#scarlett johansson #scarlett x reader #scarlett x y/n #elizabeth olsen #marvel cast

[jedijesi]

Caught in the Cat's Web Chapter 5

Miguel O'Hara x Felicia Hardy! Reader

Previous Chapter 🕸️ Series Masterlist

Warnings: Unwanted kiss, Angst, Fluff, Sexual Tension, enemies to lovers, slowish burn, she/her pronouns

Word Count: 2.5k

Summary: Angry with Miguel for ruining her date, Felicia gives him the silent treatment. Now that training is over Felicia does field work, bumping into an old foe causing everything to go wrong.

Co-Author: @stclairesplace

A/N: We hit 900 followers! Thank you all so much! My inbox is open for requests to celebrate!

Nueva York, Earth 838

Felicia’s been able to successfully avoid Miguel for the past week, too angry and humiliated to even look at him. If he's in the cafeteria, she’ll skip lunch, if he's talking to Jessica, she'll be hiding until he leaves. Even worse, Web-Slinger has been avoiding her like the plague. Felicia really was attracted to Web-Slinger and enjoyed his company, so she was hoping they'd at least be friends, but since that traumatizing night, he’s been doing the same thing to her as Felicia has been doing to Miguel. 

All of this meant she had to shadow Jessica for the week, and as much as she loved Felicia, she was gonna go crazy if she had to endure another rant about how huge of a douchebag Miguel is. Luckily, she was able to survive the week and move on from this disaster of a month. 

“We are all so proud of each and every one of you,” Jessica said in front of the recruits. “As of today, you are all part of the Spider-Society.” The sounds of cheers and clapping echo through the gym as the heroes celebrate. “When you can, please talk with LYLA to get your missions and schedule your placements.” 

“Congratulations, recruits,” Miguel speaks up, standing behind Jessica. 

While everyone celebrates, Felicia walks out without a word. Miguel can't help but notice the change in behavior since he caught her and Web-Slinger together. In a weird way, he missed bickering with the hot-headed woman. She was loud, obnoxious, stubborn, but brought so much life to a room. Since then, he hasn’t heard a word come out of her or seen that signature smirk on her face. 

Miguel frowns under his mask before deciding to push through the crowd of celebrating graduates. Once he steps out of the gym, he sees Felicia down the hall walking as she talks to LYLA. Miguel speeds up in an attempt to catch up with her. 

“Sir! Wanna get drinks with us?” A few recruits follow Miguel out of the gym. Unfortunately, this catches Felicia’s attention, prompting her to turn around to see Miguel 10 yards from her, making quick strides. 

Miguel curses to himself as she immediately turns her attention to her watch, pressing buttons, opening a portal, and running through, leaving Miguel a universe away. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

New York, Earth-192

The cool breeze of the autumn night embraces Felicia as she lays on the rooftop of the building. When she was the Black Cat, she would come to this rooftop almost every night to listen to the jazz music from the club below. It was her safe place as she would normally bring a bottle of wine and play with her new jewels from the Tiffiny’s she robbed a few blocks down. Tonight, she was just here to unwind, to go back in time. 

Felicia sings along to the song as she plays with her hair. “So if you really love me, say yes, but if you don't, dear, confess, and please don't tell me, perhaps, perhaps, perhaps-” 

“I’ll always love listening to you on this rooftop,” a voice caused Felicia to jump, her heart pounding as she released her talons and swiftly aimed her webshooters in the direction from which the voice came.

Felicia's stomach churned at the sight of the Spider-Suit. “Why are you here, Peter?”

Peter chuckled, trying to diffuse the tension. “You've got the Spider-Man pose down perfectly.” He nodded to her stance, though Felicia's grip on her webshooters remained firm.

“Answer the question, Peter,” Felicia said through clenched teeth, her readiness to strike undiminished.

Peter raised his hands in a gesture of peace. “Woah, easy, cat! I’ve— I've been watching you. I hope that doesn't sound creepy.”

Felicia's eyes narrowed. “That's ridiculously creepy, Peter. I don't want anything to do with you.”

Before Peter could offer further explanation, the cacophonous sound of a car crash reverberated nearby, grabbing their attention. Without a second thought, Felicia executed a graceful backflip off the rooftop, swinging down to the accident site, with Peter following closely behind.

A semi-truck had run a red light, hitting several cars in the process. Three large men hop out of the truck and sprint down the street. While Spider-Man checks on the victims, Night-Spider books it down the street. As she got closer, she shot webs all over them to slow the men down before landing on the first man, digging her claws into his back, causing him to let out a screech.  

Once the man falls to the floor in agony, she quickly webs his limbs to the dirty sidewalk before attacking her next victim. This time, instead of running, the two decide to fight. The first one swings his fist at Night-Spider but her agility allows her to gracefully dodge it, landing a few jabs to the man's gut until he grabs her, flinging her into the street. 

Night-Spider groans before hastily jumping up. “Surrender now, and I'll go easy on you.” 

The two men chuckle before the second charges her. Night-Spider grabs his wrist, redirecting his punch into the taxi’s hood. As the man groans, Felicia uses her claws to slice into his biceps before getting tackled to the ground by the other criminal. 

The man sits on her stomach, punching her face until he sees blood. Night-Spider cried out, doing her best to web him and scratch him, but it was no use. She could feel her sturdy mask over her eyes beginning to break, as he landed punch after punch. 

Before it could break, the man was thrown off of Night-Spider. She could barely comprehend what was happening as she attempted to regain her breath. What she could hear were a series of punches and thwips before being picked up and whisked away. 

“Are you okay?” These were the only words she was able to make out through the ringing in her ears. 

A gloved hand caresses Night-Spider’s bloody face as she tries to focus on her senses.  “Miguel?” was all that she was able to grunt out. “Tha- thank you.” She coughs out, leaning into his gloved palm. 

The cracks in Night-Spider’s goggles made it difficult to see properly, causing the world to appear like a kaleidoscope. After a moment she was ultimately able to make out the figure holding her. 

“P-Peter?! Let me go!” Felicia shouts, pushing him away. 

Peter throws his hands up defensively as he takes a few steps backward. “Fine but we gotta go back and make sure the injured are okay.”

Felicia’s vision still blurred and head spinning, nodded in a daze, feeling a disorienting wave wash over her as she struggled to regain her footing.

“You okay?” Peter asked, concern etching his voice as he reached out for her, but the world still felt like it was tilting around her.

Felicia, her breath ragged, mustered the last of her strength, her anger flaring as she smacked his hand away. “Don’t touch me,” she hissed with a mixture of pain and fury before she vaulted off the building, her figure disappearing into the night as she descended to attend to the injured victims below.

As Night-Spider inspected everyone, a flood of flashing lights from cameras and reporters arrived at the scene, bombarding Night-Spider with questions, which she ignored to care for the victims. 

Night Spider rolled her eyes as Spider-Man posed for pictures and answered their question. She never remembered Spider-Man being so vain. Sure, Peter Parker could be at times but since they broke up, he’s changed. The reporters continued to press, with questions that ranged from intrusive to ludicrous:

“Are you two a couple?”

“How did you get your powers?” 

“When can we expect Spider-Babies?”

“Kiss for us!” 

Reporters shouted, irking Night-Spider. The swirling blue and red lights from the arriving police cars added to the chaotic atmosphere. The blinding flashes of cameras and microphones thrust toward her felt like an assault on her senses. Suddenly, She feels an arm wrap around her waist. In a split second, Spider-Man had dipped her, moving his mask up to kiss her. Felicia could barely comprehend everything that was happening and lights flashed rapidly and her shock froze her. 

Once Spider-Man breaks the kiss, Night-Spider immediately backs away, thwips a web to the nearest building, and rushes away from the scene.

"Sorry, she's shy," Spider-Man shrugged with an apologetic grin before swiftly departing in search of Felicia.

After a few minutes of searching, Peter found her on a quiet rooftop by the river. Silently, he landed beside her, gently placing his hand on her shoulder.

“Don’t touch me!” Felicia shouted, a surge of anger and fear coursing through her as she reacted by delivering a punch to Peter's face.

Peter rubbed his jaw, wincing. "Woah! Ouch! Your powers are definitely getting stronger," he observed.

“Why did you do that?” Felicia cried, her voice a mix of anger and vulnerability.

Peter took off his mask, revealing his earnest expression as he looked at Felicia through her shattered lenses. “I want to work things out between us.”

Felicia scoffs, turning away from him to look at the water below. “No, Peter. This isn’t like the last several times where we break up, you fuck MJ, get back together, and then you run right back to her!” 

“Felicia-“

“NO! Have you slept with MJ since we broke up?” The silence between the two became deafening, leaving the only thing to be heard was the sound of her pounding heart. “Fuck you,” Felicia says before turning to her watch and opening a portal. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nueva York, Earth-838

It was late at night in Nueva York, which meant if anyone was up, they were at the bars upstairs, asleep, or on missions. Although, it was one of Miguel’s favorite moments of the night. Things were finally quiet, peaceful even which was a rarity in his line of work. Therefore Miguel would indulge himself by going to the cafe and making himself a drink, maybe grabbing himself a late-night snack before going back to his room to mope about life. 

However, this time it was different, as Miguel walked through the main hall to the living quarters, he heard the hum of a portal open, followed by a series of screams. Intrigued, he walks closer to inspect the situation. That’s when he found Felicia. 

“Ahhhh!” She screamed, throwing her destroyed mask and watch on the ground, and watching it shatter into a thousand pieces before letting out a scream of agony. Her body glitched and contorted forcing her hair to fall from its style. “You, son of a bitch!” She shouted, punching a hole into the column next to her.

As Miguel got closer, she turned just enough to see blood dripping from her face and onto her suit. Hastily, Miguel throws his items onto the table beside him, running to her aide. 

“Felicia!” Miguel jumps back as Felicia swings her fist at him, screaming. “Woah! Easy there, I’m not gonna hurt you.” 

Felicia looks through her bloody lashes, up at the startled man. Panting, she falls forward into his arms. “Miguel.” All she's able to muster. 

“What happened? Who did this to you?” He asks, using the sleeve of his navy sweater to wipe the blood from her face. 

“They're dealt with.” She gritted through her teeth. 

“What happened?” Miguel says sternly. 

“I had it handled, but then one caught me off guard and- and” Felicia uses everything in her to keep her emotions in check, but it's useless as the pain and heartbreak overtake her. “I couldn’t save myself. And then he- he- he kissed me, used me, broke my heart-”

Miguel shushes the hysterical woman, trying to ease her mind. “You’re safe. Want me to bring you home?”

Felicia jumps at Miguel’s words. “N-no! I can’t- I won't go back!” She lets out another scream as she glitches again, more painful than the time before.

“Okay, okay.” Miguel panics needing to get her a visitor’s band to replace the watch. “I have a spare room in my penthouse, are you okay with staying there? Otherwise, I can try to see if there's another available-”

“The spare room is fine,” Felicia says, her voice shaking with adrenaline. 

Miguel’s chest aches at the broken woman in his arms. “Okay. I'll take care of you.” 

Miguel picks Felicia up, taking her to his penthouse on the other side of the building. Once he arrives, the doors automatically slide open, revealing the nearly empty, bland living room. He takes Felicia up the steps to the room next to his. Miguel carefully lowers Felicia down onto the large bed before leaving the room.

“Miguel!” Felicia shouts, prompting him to peek back into the room. 

“Yes?”

“I don't wanna be alone right now.” She reluctantly says, feeling vulnerable. 

Miguel frowns, “I know, I’m just gonna get a band, a towel to clean you up, and something for you to change into. Is that okay?”

Felicia hesitantly nods, waiting patiently for Miguel to return. 

“Here’s an old shirt and some boxers.” He hands her before sitting next to her on the bed, placing the band on her wrist before bringing the damp towel up to her face.

“Ouch!” Felicia winced and then scowled, pushing past the pain. “You trynna hurt me, asshole?” she grumbled.

The city's ambient light from the window revealed Miguel's subtle smile in the dark room. “Someone’s feeling better,” he chuckled as he applied a special healing paste, his touch gentle as he worked on the cuts and gashes on her face. “Alright, time to change,” he said after placing the last bandage over Felicia's chin.

Miguel began to stand to give Felicia some privacy, but before he could move too far, her hand tugged at his arm, pulling him back. “You never seen a woman before or somethin'?”

Miguel rolled his eyes with a hint of amusement. “Yeah, you're healed.”

Felicia couldn't help but break into a small, appreciative grin, even though wincing at the pain from her cuts. She pressed the spider emblem on her chest, causing her suit to loosen. Miguel averted his eyes, politely studying the plain walls of the room. Felicia then unclasped her bra before draping the comically large shirt over herself. She removed the rest of her clothing, donning Miguel's boxers that became concealed by the shirt.

“You can look.” She teases. 

“Anything else I can get you?” He asks as he fluffs the pillow on the bed. 

“You've done plenty. T-thank you.” She says, looking away to hide herself. 

Miguel’s head turns to look at the Spider-Woman. “I didn’t realize you had manners.” 

“I’m the one who almost died, remember?” She snaps, throwing a pillow at his face. 

Miguel gives in, letting her win this time. “You're welcome.” He replies. “Goodnight, Felicia.”

Felicia watched as Miguel walked to the door, and just before he could close it, she softly whispered, “Goodnight, Miguel.” Miguel turned back, giving Felicia a small, warm smile before closing the door and returning to his room.

That night, in the dimly lit penthouse, the two of them stayed up for well over an hour. Their rooms stood side by side as they both gazed out of the wall-length windows at the glittering lights of the city’s skyline. They didn't move, didn't utter a sound; they simply allowed the stillness to envelop them, lost in their own thoughts and the unspoken something that lingered in the air.

Chapter 6

A/N: I can’t wait to hear what you think!!!

Taglist: @leahnicole1219 @oscarissac2099

#jedi jesi #miguel ohara fanfiction #miguel o’hara x reader #stclairesplace #felicia hardy #miguel ohara x female reader #miguel o’hara x felicia hardy #miguel o’hara x felicia hardy reader #miguel x reader #spider-man x black cat #spider man x felicia hardy #spider man x reader #peter parker x reader #spider man 2099 x reader #spider man 2099

[celestial-grls]

Sweet Treat / Robin Buckley x fem!reader

summary: blurb based on this post because I couldn’t stop thinking about it, also I 100% believe Robin has a huge sweet tooth and always wants something sweet late at night word count: 1.7k  a/n: my first time writing smut and hardly proofread so please be nice ok mwah mwah

You both make it a point to have dinner as much as possible together, but sometimes it just will not work. However, you guys always had dessert together. Even if it was 1 AM and you both had a long night, it felt wrong to skip having dessert together. Due to her notorious sweet tooth, it was mostly Robin’s habit that trickled into your daily routine. She’d finish washing her face but want company down in the kitchen while she ate her ice cream so you’d come down with her. If you guys couldn’t eat dinner together, this was the only time you’d have to ask about one another’s day. Sometimes even when you were eating dinner together, you guys would be too caught up talking about something else entirely that you’d completely forget to ask about each other. Never on purpose, but Robin and you are not immune to gossiping. 

Tonight is no different. Robin uses a special ice cream scooper that you got engraved with her initials on it for your first anniversary to scoop heaps of ice cream into her bowl. She even makes you a bowl, taking extra care to pick a good maraschino cherry to garnish yours with. She’s freshly showered, wearing a big t-shirt of yours while her hair dries. She’s walking back and forth from the fridge to the kitchen counter, where you’re sitting, in her white socks that she’s scrunched down. She’s telling you about some snags she hit with the production of a student film. 

You’re really trying your best to listen to her, but it’s so difficult when she sounds like that. The worst part is that she’s not even trying. She just has a voice that sounds like smoke. It’s low, and she rasps, and when she’s getting into what she’s talking about it goes high and carries these cracks that make your brain go fuzzy. And her nipples are hard against your old college t-shirt that she’s wearing. And you’ve been thinking of feeling her wrapped around you since you left for work in the morning and she was still sleeping, her hair on your pillow. 

Robin’s telling you between bites of ice cream, “...it’s not like I haven’t tried to compromise with them. I don’t know. What do you think, baby?” 

You haven’t been paying attention. You’ve been absentmindedly eating your ice cream, just listening to the sound of her voice and not the actual words. There’s no way to even pretend like that wasn’t the case, because Robin can tell when she looks at you. 

“I’m sorry, Rob. Okay? I wasn’t listening, baby. I’m sorry. But it’s your fault. It’s your stupid voice.” You’re pouting slightly, and Robin knows what you mean when you call her voice stupid. 

Robin moves from where she was leaning against the kitchen sink to step closer to you and stand between your legs as you sit on the counter. She’s taken both your now empty bowls of ice cream and moved them aside, placing cold fingertips on the inside of your knee. “My voice?” Robin’s asking, just so she can hear you elaborate. 

“Yeah. I wish you sounded like Kermit or something so I wouldn’t want to jump your bones every time you open your mouth.” You’re mostly kidding, settling your hands at the nape of her neck and feeling her damp hair on your fingers. Then Robin starts to laugh. 

“God, don’t laugh! That’s even worse than when you talk. I hate what it does to me.” You’re doing a horrible job at scolding her. Because whatever blood flow was rushing to your brain has since abandoned your brain and moved elsewhere. 

“Aww, it’s okay Y/N. But really, what are we gonna do about this?” She’s evil. She’s torturing you, and worst of all, she’s enjoying it. She’s tracing little shapes on your inner thighs now and rubbing her nose against the column of your throat, just staying there. Her head is right under your nose, you can smell her shampoo and you’re losing more of the little grip you had on reality before. 

You duck your head under to kiss her earlobe. “I don’t know. I’d have to fuck you with earplugs on, I guess.” 

Robin is so vocal, she always has been. You can hear all her little sighs and feel her lips curling up into a smile against your throat. She starts nipping at your collarbone and kneading her hands against your hips. Once she feels you shiver she stops and you immediately whine a little, missing her teeth on you. She looks at you and says, “But you love my voice too much to do that.” You’re so needy, and you’ve had enough of her teasing. So you finally kiss her, licking into her mouth. She tastes like the ice cream you both just ate and you can’t stop. She rakes her hands up your t-shirt, brushing a thumb across your nipple. You feel all the air move out of your lungs. But it’s still not enough, you want more. You’re desperately moving as close to Robin as possible, ass right at the edge of the kitchen counter. Robin’s the first to pull away and catch her breath. With her face a little flushed, you already miss the warmth of her cheeckbone against your skin. She pulls one of her hands away from your breast to brush her thumb against the pillow of your bottom lip. “Can you open for me, baby?” 

You love putting her fingers in your mouth, you love it even more when she’s asking you to. You obediently suck on her fingers. She’s almost cooing at you, she even starts brushing your hair away from your face. “There you go. Y’look so pretty.” 

When she says stuff like that it makes you wet instantly. You can feel yourself dampening, almost embarrassed about the effect she has on you. You pull your mouth off her fingers to say, “I’ve been thinking about you all day. And you’re in my t-shirt. Seriously baby, what’s your problem?” You whine at Robin because she hasn’t touched you where you want yet. 

She does this exaggerated gasp that only makes you wetter. This woman has a death wish against you. “Lucky for you, I like it when you’re a little mean,” She inches her hands just a little higher, hooking her fingers inside your panties but still not touching your clit. It’s the slowest few seconds ever until she finally palms at your center. “What are you so wet for, hm?” Robin asks as if she doesn’t know the answer. 

You’re touching her wherever you can but it still doesn’t feel like enough. Your knees are hitched up right where her hips are, and you’re squeezing the curve of her ass to try and get her as close as she can possibly get to you. You sigh against her, “Don’t make me say it…” 

“Please?” She has the most devilish look in her eye when she adds the next part, “For me?” Then she dips her fingers in your panties and starts rubbing circles into your clit. It feels so good you start rolling your eyes back. 

“I hate you,” You tell her while sloppily kissing the flat of her forehead. 

She’s sucking little love bites into the side of your neck. She is filled with cockiness as she says, “No, you don’t.” She easily dips her fingers inside of you. You gasp against the feeling of your cunt being filled by her fingers. 

“Baby, give me your fingers,” You’re requesting for her fingers back in your mouth, needing something to suck on while you ride her fingers against the kitchen counter. This is so dirty, you both know it. But you both are too horny to care, as she keeps pumping her fingers in and out of you. You can feel her nipples rub against yours, losing your mind at the friction. Robin brings her thumb to your clit, rubbing circles into it torturously slow. You’re moaning around her fingers in your mouth and keeping your eyes glued to her, counting all the freckles between her eyes. 

“You sound so good. You’re doing good, baby.” 

“Think, fuck, think I need those earplugs,” You tell her because if she keeps talking to you like this you’ll combust. 

Since Robin loves to watch you squirm, she brings her lips right up against your ear and whispers, “Should I be quiet? Would you like that better?” 

The little puffs of air against your ear, Robin’s hair grazing the side of your face, the way her eyes keep opening a little wider and wider to look at you, having her like this still isn’t something you’re used to. When she hits that spot inside you that makes you squirm, you take a second to recalibrate yourself before saying to her, “You’re so cocky tonight, how come?”

Robin makes a good effort to pretend to think while she just takes you closer and closer to the edge, all your senses blurring more and more the longer she goes on for. She keeps chasing the same spot above your breast with big kisses, sweetly reminding you that she can be both doting and drive you insane. 

Ultimately, she is too eager of a lover to truly be a tease. “Not cocky, just know who I have,” she starts rubbing circles into your clit a little faster, making you arch into her, hard nipples right against Robin. You’re falling a part quickly, Robin is pulling out little whimpers from short sighs, all you want is for her to keep talking you through it. “She’s pretty great, but she’s always saying she hates me,” Robin fake pouts at you.

You’re clench as she fingers you deeper. With a maon you tell her, “Fuck, I don’t-don’t think she hates you right now.” 

Robin smirks, her lips pulling up in the corners and attaching themselves to your collarbone, her final move to drive you insane and right to the edge. “Stay right there, you’re almost there,” It’s only a matter of moments until Robin speeds up and brings you over the edge. That clenching in your stomach releases and you let out one more moan right against the shell of Robin’s ear, carding your fingers through her still-damp hair. 

“God, fuck,” You’re still catching your breath, missing Robin’s fingers in you already. You look at her with that dazed and moony-eyed expression you get after she makes you come. 

Robin’s already smiling and looking too pleased with herself. After a little pause she says, “Still need those earplugs?”

With equal parts adoration and annoyance you tell her, “You’re insufferable,” 

#my writing #robin fanfic #robin headcanon #robin buckley #robin buckley x reader #robin stranger things #robin buckley blurb #robin buckley x you #robin buckley x y/n #robin buckley smut #robin buckley drabble

[lullaebies]

Hi could I please request a Aegon, Jaehaerys and Maelor where he spends time with his sons and they just have an entire day together. Aegon does things with them that Viserys never did with him Aemond and Daeron.

I added in Aemond and Criston in to the boys day, because it felt right, I hope that's all good. It took me some time to decide what they do, but I hope you'll enjoy this. I believe you sent the girls' day request too - hope to get to it as well soon!

-

It’s the oddest thing, seeing his child don sparring clothes and hold a wooden sword.

Granted, Aegon has been around Jaehaerys’s age when he was ushered into the training field himself. He, Aemond, and Daeron were just the same, small twiglings of boys taking up arms of weapons thicker than their arms. And now, Maelor being a clinging extension of his arms, he supposes his limbs will never be more than thin branches to what they held.

Jaehaerys swishes around his heavy wooden sword as he jumps and skips. Ser Criston and Aemond watch him with some crinkles in their eyes and an amused smile to their lips, while Maelor babbles in his ears. “Wanna hold s’ord too!”

“Can you?” Aegon asks him, lifting his eyebrows at the boy and squishing his arm between his thumb and index. “I think even your brother may drop his,” he tells him. Jaehaerys spent a good amount of his powers dragging him to the yard, and the long slashes at the air already make his arm quiver somewhat.

“I won’t!” Jaehaerys yells at him, lifting up the sword in triumph. “I have a good grip!” He says loudly, his hold on the handle firm. Princely as could be, one might say, with how its tip points straight to the sky. He does have a good grip, no one can rob him of that.

“You needn’t tell me, my hair will know it better than any,” Aegon says, thinking of all the ripped-out hairs he lost from the moment Jaehaerys learned he can reach to him, one way or another. For a moment, Aegon has some sinking feeling in his stomach; all his boy learned from him is the force in his grip. Before long, however, Maelor’s grubby hands reach out to his hair, catching at it too. “Seven hells!”

Maelor giggles loudly at his ears. His sons are menaces of the Keep, if only to him.

“How about we begin your spar, Prince Jaehaerys? You wanted to show it to your father, didn’t you?” Ser Criston then asks.

“It’s due time,” Aemond says, shifting his weight onto to stand straight. “Before my brother falls at the hand of your brother.”

Twat, Aegon huffs at him, giving Maelor his finger instead of his hair. Gods, he used to ground him so easily in this field as kids. Never again would that be, and Aegon has accepted it; but he still wishes Aemond’s little smirks weren’t so justified.

“And another brother can spar another brother,” Ser Criston then says, placing his hand on Aemond’s shoulder and shoving a training sword in his hand. “Princelings ought to help princelings.”

“I have long outgrown being a princeling, Ser Criston,” Aemond replies, clearly taken aback. Aegon laughs.

“You’ll stay a princeling until you die, little brother,” he tells him aloud. “But I understand your fear. My son will best you, but only kindly,” he says, and looks to Jaehaerys. “Won’t you, Jaehaerys?”

Jaehaerys follows the exchange with his gaze, and some fire lights up in it. He brings his wooden sword forward. “Spar me! Spar me!” He jumps around his uncle, leaving him little to no choice. Maelor claps his hands, encouraging them further. Despite everything, Aemond knows when he is beaten. He too bends to the will of the boys.

“Then do swing, dear nephew.” He tells him, and a new dance of swords starts.

Jaehaerys is a clumsy thing, trying to hit Aemond’s legs and lunge at him with not much thought. Aemond blocks it all, only returning barely hits, trying to guide the boy in the spar. Every once in a while, he looks back to Aegon and Maelor; to see if they’re looking. Aegon remembers when he used to look around, see if he was doing well while taking field.

Pride is a shallow thing; you can be the proudest one moment, and find in another that it is for nothing at all.

“Wahhh!” Jaehaerys lets out a battle cry, lunging again, but Aemond blocks his sword, and this time he nearly trips. Aegon sees Criston readying himself to stop this play of a spar, and Aemond tussles Jaehaerys’s hair with his free hand, ready to tell him he did well, nonetheless; but he knows that won’t quite satisfy the boy. He sees it in Jaehaerys’s frustrated eyes.

“Let us help your brother,” he whispers to Maelor quietly. “Grab your uncle at his ankles, will you?” he tells him. Maelor’s eyes sparkle; it’s in his nature, to grab and latch. Aegon puts him down, little feet ready to run.

And while Maelor charges to Aemond’s surprise, catching him from behind his shins, Aegon rushes along to catch his brother in a constraining embrace that refuses to relent. Aemond feels grabbed on both fronts and exclaims. “What are you doing- “

“Three is more fun of a trial,” Aegon proclaims, and looks to his son, who is wide-eyed at the aid. “Quick, point your sword – you need to make him yield!”

“Hah?!” Aemond yelps, while Ser Criston howls with laughter. Foul play it is, but he knows the Lord Commander approves. This spar is for entertainment, after all.

Jaehaerys comes back up with his sword, once again lifting it high. It doesn’t reach his Aemond’s neck, just his chest; but Aegon guesses there is a stab at his heart when Jaehaerys stands with a triumphant smile in front of him, as he stills in his arms.

“Yield, Uncle!” he yells, and Aemond looks to Aegon. Aegon nudges back forward, to Jaehaerys. It’s a small request, on his part, but he knows Aemond understands. Despite everything, they all waited for their own time to shine.

Aemond drops his training sword. “I surrender,” he says, lifting his arms. Maelor giggles, holding onto Aemond’s leg and standing on the tough of his boot. Ser Criston claps as he chuckles, and Aegon grins widely. It is soon enough that Jaehaerys drops his sword to the ground, and runs to his uncle, jumping to his other leg, and making nearly all of them fall back.

“Can we do it again?” he asks, hugging Aemond’s side. “With Father and Maely!”

“Again, again!” Maelor repeats after him. Aemond looks at Aegon once more. Aegon knows he won’t escape this; and somehow, he finds he doesn’t want to. Pride is a shallow thing; but he felt prideful, earning Jaehaerys’s smile. Aegon huffs to himself and nods.

“Ser Criston,” Aemond calls the Lord Commander, trying not to snort. “I think you need to divide us into pairs, one more time.”

#aegon ii targaryen #aemond targaryen #jaehaerys targaryen #prince jaehaerys targaryen #maelor targaryen #criston cole #hotd #my fanfics #requests #answered #team green

[morningstarbee]

what i think we really got robbed of is will being silly/sassy like he was in early s1.

like obviously throughout the entire show will never really loses that bite, but in the very beginning it was so much more....silly. he was more light-hearted, you know?

like by mid-season 1, the encephalitis has really set in and he's just so miserable and out of it all the time. And obviously in s2 he's on a warpath. and by s3 he's just really jaded.

but in early season 1 he was just so sassy. he got in trouble for saying stuff he probably shouldn't have. he used to tease/talk back to hannibal in a way that wasn't as hostile or overly cautious like he does after he learns who he is. he use to rib zeller and make these little smart remarks and jokes.

I think I'm especially missing the period of time where they were close enough Will would call Hannibal on his bullshit but it's still before Will found out he was the Copycat/Ripper.

Like the "Are you trying to alienate me from Jack Crawford???" and the "Well this should be interesting. please Doctor, proceed."

There's a missing point in their relationship where Will is comfortable enough to call him an idiot or annoying in a lighthearted way that got skipped right over to Will being too scared of him to test his limits that way. Maybe not scared. I don't know if there was a time where will was truly scared of him. But their relationship definitely got really intense, especially with Will lying to him. And I think Will's feelings about him were too genuinely negative at these points for it to be very light-hearted.

I don't know. I always love more light-hearted and humor focused stuff in this fandom. I think they deserved a bit more of it. Both of them are kind of silly guys at heart. Hannibal never stopped being silly really. But I think Will did a few times.

Maybe in season 4 we would have seen the return of silly will, after they hashed out all of their issues and became comfortable with each other and the knowledge that they wouldn't hurt each other anymore.

#hannibal #nbc hannibal #hannigram #murder husbands #will graham #hannibal lecter

[being-of-rain]

My thoughts on The Church on Ruby Road! I literally can't write one of these without it being much longer than I expect. You think I'd simply expect it by now. But apparently I just had a lot of thoughts to put down about this one!

I really liked it! Going by friends' reactions, I think I liked it more than most of them. Maybe that's because I was expecting the more straightforward fantasy than usual from Doctor Who after hearing about it from RTD. I hope they dive into that more in the upcoming series, and make it explicit that it's because of the edge-of-the-universe-superstition stuff. That's such a fun direction for the show to go in.

I mostly have good things to say. Ncuti Gatwa was an instant fit for the Doctor, I can't wait to watch a whole series of him. His outfits were fantastic, especially that very first shot of him with his hat. And his deduction and reassurance scene with the policeman reminds us that the character has a powerful magic even without the goblins and skyships. Oh and the Doctor loving the name Lulubelle, what an adorable moment.

The goblins and skyships themselves felt very Peter Pan to me, and I love the urban fantasy feel it gave the episode. I also simply adore the fairytale logic, narrative magic that the Doctor was talking about. "The language of luck" and "coincidence is what makes the baby tasty" and "vocabulary of rope" and "if you have lots of accidents, it stitches you in. It weaves you into the day." I eat that stuff up, urban fantasy at its best in my opinion. Creeping into our world around the edges. And of course Doctor Who had to have a line suggesting that all coincidences might be because of goblins, I love it. The unexpected goblin music number felt very appropriately pantomime, and led to yet another moment that made me fell in love with this Doctor; him continuing the song rather than stopping it. Again, adorable.

As for Ruby Sunday, she's fun to watch and well acted, and I don't have anything bad to say about her, but she does feel a little generic-companion to me at the moment. Sometimes companions take a while before they go from 'like' to 'love' for me, but they usually make it eventually, it just takes one really great episode or plot. I do love her family though, they're so much fun, please can we have the Doctor spending more time with them. It's so cute to see a foster family depicted so positively and wholesomely.

Which leads us to the hardest-hitting part of the episode, when Ruby's taken and the timeline is rewritten, and GOD it's bleak. It's another look at that classic RTD cynicism that's just under the surface, but it works soooo well here, god damn. The way a lot of minimal changes made the setting go from "queens of the sky" to "stuck with my old mum up here in the attic" was so Powerful. The performances of Michelle Greenidge as a depressed Carla and Ncuti Gatwa as a raw and heartbroken Doctor was just. Chef's kiss. This time it's sci-fi at it's best; something impossible happening and then the story really digging its claws into the emotional impact it has on people.

The Doctor really showing his emotions is something I love and want to see a lot more of. I assume that's the main change to the character after Tennant Doctor's mental health retirement, which is a relief after Thirteen's years of brooding and hiding negative emotions from friends. So I don't mind Gatwa's Doctor having issues and brooding moments, because obviously you can't permanently fix all your problems forever anyway, especially not in his life. But all that said, specifically his line "I've got no one" really stood out to me as being strange considering the previous episode seemingly solving that in the short term. I know Gatwa's Doctor might potentially be a long way past that now, but surely it robs the retirement ending of its entire point if we immediately skip past not only the healing, but the getting-worse-again-about-the-exact-same-issue as well.

Speaking of Thirteen, it was nice to see RTD once again bring back the Timeless Child from Chibnall's era and give it a bit more depth. Chibnall definitely acknowledged the Timeless Child's emotional impact on the Doctor, and she had an arc surrounding that. But if I had to describe that arc I'd call it rather one-note and uninteresting; going from 'desperate to know more about adoption' to 'accepting it without question' without really any character beats in-between. Seeing how Gatwa's Doctor was dealing with it, how he related to other adoption stories and thought about himself, adds more dimensions to that, and I hope we get more glimpses of it.

When it comes to Ruby Sunday's adoption, I like that there's something of a plot bait-and-switch with the Doctor staring at (presumably) Ruby's mother in the cold open, then the Doctor being more concerned with saving Ruby later in the episode, and deciding not to follow the mother. If the series spends more focus on that plot, I hope it's mostly Ruby making a similar choice to the Doctor, because I'm an absolute sucker for 'it's not biology that makes a family.' I mean, basically my favourite Doctor Who story is Izzy Sinclair's from the DWM comic, and it was basically this. Izzy's story might've even been a direct influence on Ruby's, since we know that RTD was a DWM reader at the time and loved it too, enough to send a letter in praising the final Izzy comic! Anyway, I should probably try not to compare the two arcs too much, because I have my favourite and I'm biased 😂

How does this Thoughts Post feel even longer than usual!? I guess new Doctor, new companion, and new story arcs might do that. So time for random points!

-After checking, the clock on the eponymous church is absolutely the same one on the Christmas Town tower from The Time of the Doctor. I hope I'm not the only one who immediately noticed that aha. -I've seen people diss the narration at the very start, and I get disliking purposeless narration, but I think this one serves a purpose well. It adds even more of a fairytale vibe to a very fairytale scenario in a very fairytale episode. -Random nitpick: one thing I'd change about the episode is how much stress the camera and music give to some comedy minor characters, specifically the lady with the pram, Mrs Flood in her first scene, and the other neighbour. Focusing on them so much felt like it dampened their little jokes a bit. -Random highlight: I love when the Doctor says random throwaway stuff like they always do, but side characters actually pick it up and start trying to pick meaning out of it. So it made me happy when Ruby came back to the Houdini namedrop at the end of the episode. -The international version of the episode had a random Disney Plus ad before the final few lines (rather than that being a mid-credits scene like in the UK) and god I hated it. Praying that doesn't happen again. -I know RTD has said there'll be more about the "mysterious" Mrs Flood in future, but to me she genuinely just felt like a minor character with a christmas fourth-wall break. I really don't care about getting more of her, so if there is then I hope it's more interesting. -The murder of the Goblin King sure was more violent than usual for Doctor Who, and it can bother me a little bit when TV shows start letting things like that go by without comment, but I don't really mind it this time. The goblins vanished like the mythical creatures they were, the Doctor was cool as hell jumping off the church tower to bring them down, and this time the classic RTD Emotional Manipulation was working on me perfectly. -It's hilarious that they're keeping up the 'mavity' thing, I wonder when they'll actually do something with that.

Final thoughts! The Church on Ruby Road was a fantastic start to The Gatwa Era. It had a simple plot and villains, which worked wonderfully with the delightful characters, magical aesthetic, and powerful emotional beats it landed. It definitely felt more like a first episode than a christmas special, which is to it's credit, but with the singular downside that it has me impatient for more episodes!

If you made it all the way to the end, then Happy New Year! I hope you (and Dr Who) have a wonderful 2024 😘

#my thoughts #woof my thoughts always look a lot longer written down than in my head aha #but it's nice to feel like I have things to say about something yknow. I can put some opinions into words. #and I left a little present at the end for anyone who gets that far <3 #doctor who #ruby #fourteen #I may have to start tagging him fifteen soon to avoid confusion tbh

[somewhere-over-the-rynbow]

Thoughts while listening to Death Shroud:

SPOILERS AHEAD. Obviously.

• nicknicknicknicknicknick

• Ellie where are you getting coffee

• what do you put in your coffee???

• “There aren’t many spare parts for you Nick” why can’t you use gen 2 synth parts?

• Goodneighbor? THIS EARLY? MY BITCH IS BACK?!

• HANCOCK HANCOCK HAN- Hancock? HANCOCK!?

• THEY HIT THE FUCKING PENTAGON THIRD RAIL

• HANCOCK!!!!!

• wait why would Nick order a drink

• KENT KENT KENT KENT KENT KENT KENT-

• KENT NO-

• omg canon Nora real???

• Nick stop encouraging Hancock’s chem use

• how the hell are they gonna get Hancock into Diamond City

• cram! It’s meat… mostly!

• DID THEY KILL ELLIE

• thank GOD ellie is safe

• “drab upstairs apartment” lmao they said your interior decorating skills suck nick

• Nick “The Dick” Valentine

• Okay WHO is charlie????

• damn what did the Minutemen do to y’all

• Nick 4 Mayor

• who even is the mayor of Diamond City now

• John “Hold Me Back Nicky!” Valentine Hancock

• that was supposed to say Hancock, but Valentine was accidentally typed and that’s funnier.

• 3/4 families are missing their daily intake of processed powder cheddar? Believable.

• ayo time skip?

• lmao Seth Patrick Day

• OMG REMINISCING ABOUT THE PREWAR GOD I LOVE THIS OLD MAN SO MUCH

• D I M A ! ?

• omg Nick and Nora are besties <3

• OMG ALL THE COMPANIONS HANG OUT!?

• Hancock you’re already back <3

• oh Moe,,,, never stop lying babe

• his source is “i made it the fuck up”

• The Mechanist is back????? Hello???

• salty bitch. can you leave Sole and Co alone like goddamn

• Is the Mechanist a Synth now?

• THE CHILDREN OF ATOM?????

• wait no

• NO

• YOU CANT DO AN AD NOW WHAT

• WHAT ABOUT PIPER??? CAIT???

• I don’t care who Nick Valentine sends, I am NOT eating sugar bombs

• did they fucking nuke Piper

• THEY FUCKING NUKED THEM!?

• NORA!!!!!

• omg Shaun :)

• omg Nick :(

• omg Danse???? Why are you here what

• hdjdjdjd say hi to your big brother Nick, Danse

• “don’t touch me” lmao

• oh FUCK MACCREADY

• oh no. strong left. that’s… so sad…

• Protective mom Nora!

• NORA AND HANCOCK NORA AND HANCOCK

• I love them all so much oh my god

• this is a fucked up family reunion

• ugh FUCK maxson all my homies hate maxson

• “An old flame” “Seriously? I wanna see how that works” Hancock is asking what we’re all thinking

• bro can Nora have anything

• I can not believe that Hancock and Danse are friends now lol

• lmao don’t rob the vault tec rep

• wait. why didn’t Nora invite him to Sanctuary :(

• HIS NAME IS MACK!?

• god I love you so much Mack

• omg this trio can NOT be good lol (Nora, Hancock, Danse)

• Nora how the fuck is Hancock lifting Danse

• “Danse, scan the building, use infrared vision to pick up vitals” “I don’t have infrared vision” “Really? So much for human 2.0” he’s such a smart ass I love him

• FEV conjoined twins???? Omg that’s so fucking cool

• Hancock, stealing is bad

• Hancock, Florida is bad

• lmao Danse is bitter about Nora taking Nick instead of him haha

• Oh shit they got Lorenzo’s crown? Nora you can’t leave this shit laying around girl

• OMG PSYKERS

• Nora really. You freed Lorenzo??? You dummy

• okay so Hancock and Danse aren’t really friends now lol, they just kinda tolerate each other. Real.

• “No, are you nuts? He’s armored, dual wielding, and you’re wearing a 16th century nightgown!” “You unpatriotic son of a-” “Hush, damn it!” these three are so important to me

• UNITY???? UNITY!? no way they’re doing a Master plot right?

• so is this the same mechanist as in the automatron DLC?

• damn these 3 are agile

• omg not Hancock’s coat!!!!

• oh fuck the silver shroud and mechanist fused

• can we please discuss how fucking disgusting yum yum deviled eggs sound. How the fuck were they preserving eggs. Why would you make prepackaged deviled eggs??? I always thought that was such a weird pick for a food lol

• YO WHY ARE WE AT SANCTUARY

• uh oh. UH OH.

• WHERE IS SHAUN.

• can y’all let Nora have ONE THING god DAMN

• OH THANK GOD CODSWORTH

• I cant believe they canoned Nora and Danse being together,,,, damn

• omg Hancock please don’t traumatize Shaun

• Hancock do NOT give Shaun alcohol oh my god

• THEY KILLED MAMA MURPHY :(

• can they stop killing my favorite old people

• omg I forgot about you Nick lol

• hey Charlie? What the fuck

• DONT FUCKING HUMAN NICK-

• do NOT kill Mack PLEASE

• KELLOGG!???? WHY ARE YOU HERE

• bro can Nora have ANYTHING damn-

• can’t have shit in the commonwealth fr

• AMARI WHAT THE FUCK

• OMG KELLOGG NICK THING IS TIED UP!?

• Mack you are fucking useless (I still love you though)

• why are we talking about puppies what

• oh my god :(

• OH FUCK A BOMB?

• Nick… you fucking plug yourself into computers???? hacker supreme

• omg he’s so robot

• omg Mack you are so papaw

• it’s cre-shendo not cre-sendo

• Nick you are NOT captain america omg

• shit I guess he is captain America

• poor papaw has had such a day let him go home Nick

• “I’m not asking!” DAMN nick

• WHAT. HOW DID HE CALL A CAB.

• HOW DOES HE HAVE A PHONE???? WHAT JUST HAPPENED???? WHAT

• this is so funny what the fuck is happening

• WHY IS EVERYONE ACTING LIKE THIS IS NORMAL WHAT

• YOU CANT CUT TO A VIM AD NOW HUH

• ok it is kinda funny to imagine a salesman in power armor lol

• Huh. Cannibals will eat ghouls. Interesting.

• learn to drive? How? What driving schools are there???

• okay the idea of a cab driver in the commonwealth is so funny. But how the fuck did Jefferson come into existence-

• NICK CAN WALK UNDERWATER????

• WHAT. IS NICK A TIME LORD!?

• WHAT IS HAPPENING. WHAT. NICK. NICK WHAT IS HAPPENING. WHAT ARE YOU DOING.

• WAIT IS 47 THE UNDERWATER VAULT!?

• Mack is so real lol

• HIS NAME IS DAVID DWECKER!? I THOUGHT IT WAS MACK

• omg David my beloved peepaw

• 747683 is not 5 digits Nick

• Champion of Justice???? What?

• WHY WOULD THE CODE BE SHROUD?????

• maybe I’m missing something?????? It is 6 am lol

• I’m sorry, did Nick magic a fucking vault into existence

• CRYOPOD!!!!!! TWO YEARS AGO???? WHAT.

• time to wake up bitch

• NICK STOP MAGICING

• … what? THE SILVER SHROUD!?

• WHAT IS HAPPENING

• but… the shroud… isn’t real… did Nick just create the fucking Silver Shroud?

• it should be 2289, not 2287

• “Same words Hancock uttered after smoking a tire that one time…” huh???? Nick and Hancock hang out lol

• EMOJI???? HOW DO THEY KNOW WHAT EMOJI’S ARE!????

• I’m sorry, I can’t get over Nick Valentine accidentally bringing fucking Batman into existence simply for the drama of it all

• Poor David lol

• How The fuck is Nick gonna explain all this to Nora, Danse, and Hancock

• HOW DOES THE SHROUD KNOW JEFFERSON????

• oh. Ok. That makes sense.

• this is like the world’s strangest fanfiction

• NICK. STOP DOING MAGIC. OH MY GOD.

• WHY ARE NORA AND DANSE HERE. WHO IS DEAD. WHAT.

• WHERE IS HANCOCK!?

• WHY IS THE SHROUD CASUALLY A PART OF THEIR GROUP NOW

• MACCREADY IS DEAD!? WHY IS HE HERE. WHERE DID HE COME FROM.

• Okay, I’m starting to think that Nick managed to get high off Jet or smth

• who is the duke????

• “sociopath science daddy in slacks” What the hell maccready

• “just one more job” thanks. Gonna go sob now

• omg fancy lad snack cakes my beloved

• omg Hancock is in his Robin era

• wow. Just remembered Kent is dead. Devastating

• pay your employees Shroud.

• An old lady, the Silver Shroud, and Hancock get into a cab…

• why is no one questioning this cab

• honestly though. I understand why Hancock isn’t. He probably just thinks he’s hallucinating lol.

• “Fish Lips Malone!” what. is happening. I’m as confused as Hancock is…

• “activate passive aggressive restraint!” What is that????

• Hancock why do you know every criminal.

• “yes indeed my flesh peeling friend!”

• “man I have never seen anyone who needs to be laid more than you do” “finally someone else says it” oh my GOD I love Hancock so much (and Jefferson. Man, do I love Jefferson.)

• “omg Hancock we’ve been waiting for you! Oh… and the shroud’s here, too…” just like me fr

• Is the Silver Shroud an incel…

• THEY MEDUSA’D MAGNOLIA!?

• lmao everyone else hates Johnny Guitar?

• KELLOGG GET THE FUCK OUT.

• Hancock you are REMARKABLY casual about the dead man in your booth

• The Silver Shroud is a short king lol

• why is Kellogg the only one who thinks the shroud being here is weird

• Nora is an “uppity broad” lol

• why are y’all dissing Hancock, leave my man alone-

• Just gotta say… it’s a great day to be a Hancock stan

• THE DUKE IS THE MECHANIST!?

• what. A literal rat faced man? Why does he have 3 arms?

• Hm. They still do beehive hair, huh? I’m kinda impressed

• what do you mean they turned Louie into a mole rat using the creation engine

• “stay low to the ground, my crusty companion!”

• THEY TURNED THE SILVER SHROUD’S GUN INTO A DOG????

• THEY TURNED HANCOCK INTO A STATUE NO-

• how could they do this to me.

• the Silver Shroud can say fuck. Nice

• omg wait

• Hancock is… Hancock’s… he’s…

• he’s stoned

• ba-dum-tsh

• Travis, please don’t sexually harass all of Diamond City

• I’m more than half way through this and I genuinely have no clue what’s going on lol

• omg they legit are using the creation engine huh

• HANCOCK???? YOURE BACK??? WHY DID YOU DRINK GASOLINE!???

• I wanna have tea with god…

• Dr… Satan?

• HAROLD!? WHY ARE YOU HERE????

• Nora 🤝 Harold

never getting to rest

• I think it’s very funny that Hancock is just… back.

• damn they all got stoned

• and the stone is gone again

• what even is the point of the stone lol

• THE MYSTERIOUS STRANGER!?

• OH MY GOD

• OH MY GOD

• OH MY GOD

• THEY KILLED THE MYSTERIOUS STRANGER!?

• who is… showing up…

• WHO IS OBEDIAH BLACKHALL

• Damn. Bye bye Obediah.

• I genuinely can’t remember what started this lmao

• Oh fuck, Kellogg is back…

• omg they broke the scarab!!!

• what do you mean by too many voices

• too many characters??????? WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY THAT

• WHY IS IT JUST NICK AND THE SHROUD VS REALITY

• they are SO remarkably calm

• “see if you can… blind him with some… bullets to the face” yeah that should do it Nick

• “my speed should give me the upper hand” your what Nick

• WHY IS NICK SUPER FAST WHAT

• … they’re summoning bitches now? A Grognak bitch? WHY ARE YOU HERE?

• wait. Nora is the one magicing?

• oh wait. You mean that Nora was the silver shroud for a while. Right? What is happening.

• The Silver Shroud is really good at sticking to his bit lol

• OMG NORA BECAME THE SILVER SHROUD AND CHANGED REALITY?????

• Silver Shroud speed runs an existential crisis

• uh oh

• uh oh

• uh oh

• reality is literally crumbling

• SHEOGORATH!?

• oh fuck Bethesda is crumbling

• GLADOS!?

• THE JOKER!!!!!???

• CLAPTRAP!!!!!!!????

• Poor Nick…

• can you guys stop having relationship issues when I’m on the phone with my dentist

• SNIPER?????

• GLADOS is hitting on Nick Valentine. Yeah. Okay.

• “Thank you, intelligent sociopathic blender!”

• at no point could I have predicted this.

• they gave Nick a portal gun.

• he is opening a portal on the moon.

• they are essentially creating a black hole.

• How The FUCK is Nick supposed to mentally handle all of this

• GLADOS didn’t even get to say goodbye :/

• omg they’re in the creation engine

• OH MY GOD THEY ARE IN TODD HOWARD’S BRAIN????

• Jesus Christ, poor fucking Nick

• Hey, you. You’re finally awake.

• what do you mean it was all a dream

• how did Nick fall asleep

• is everyone alive??????

• wow. Huh. What.

#fallout #fallout 4 #death shroud #fo4 #nick valentine #hancock #fo4 hancock

[dutchvanwinkle]

Mr Van der Linde Pt. 5 - Dutch x Reader

Hello again darlings! I hope those of you celebrating Easter / Ramadam / Passover are having a wonderful weekend, did you know this overlap only happens three times every century? How cool is that!! Whether you're observing a holiday or not, it's now time for us to all come together and fantasize about daddy Dutch :)

I would apologise for the wait between this chapter and the last, but I did say this fic would be relatively slow in updates. I wrote a good chuck of this chapter then decided I hated it, took some time away from it, came back, then realised it wasn't as bad as I'd made out in my head lol. It's a pretty fluffy one tbh, and even if it's not as long as the previous one I hope you still enjoy!

It's on ao3, too!

Summary: Your relationship with Dutch deepens when you spend more time with him after a stressful week.

Word count: 6,471

Content warnings: smut, mildly creepy dutch

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | PART 5 | PART 6 | PART 7 | PART 8 | PART 9 | PART 10

‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗

Despite everyone’s knowledge of the end of the academic year, not one of your group of friends took the responsibility of arranging the flat for you to all live in together for second year. So, once again, you and Karen were in the same one - with John, Abigail, Sean, and Javier across the hall in theirs. You didn’t mind much; you were all too deep in the habit of leaving your flats unlocked anyway so the others could wander in should they please. It was dumb, but you hadn’t been robbed yet and imagined that’s what it would take for you to change your ways. 

Abigail had made extra dinner and you were the first to claim the portion, skipping across the hall and ambling in with a grin on your face. The two of you ate and chatted with the TV filling the background noise. Karen had joined not long after, and the three of you found yourselves sprawled on the sofa, tired from a full day.  

Second year was noticeably harder, no more easing you into university life – the theory and assignments were tough. However, thanks to your hard work in the previous semester it wasn’t an impossible leap. It had been for some, Javier regularly coming around in an attempt to inconspicuously copy your coursework.  

Just as you were mentally preparing yourself for the next day, the last before the weekend, your phone buzzed. 

Naughty girl. 

Dutch. You cleared your throat, pausing a moment before opening his message. He hadn’t taken any liberties with his possession of your phone number, and your inbox had been decidedly empty since the last time you saw him. 

?? 

Was this the old-person way of flirting? Was it sexting? Hopefully, your response would allow room for clarification. 

I was just in my photo gallery. 

Oh. You smiled to yourself. Another message. 

I almost dropped my phone. 

Sorry, won’t happen again. 

It better happen again, miss. I’ve already made good use of it, and now I’m in need of more. 

Good god, the thought of him pleasuring himself to a photo of you brought heat all over your neck. “I’m just gonna use your bathroom,” you stood up to excuse yourself, getting no response from your friends. 

Once inside, you looked around, knowing full well it was empty and quickly flicked the lock on the door, before pulling your top over your head. Glancing over your reflection in the mirror, you tried to figure out the best angle that’d reveal enough but not too much. 

Eventually, you got an angle you were happy with, only your jaw in view and your tits on full display. You cropped the photo (including your bottom half was a bit too much, right now at least) when his name appeared in your notification bar again. 

Too far? 

Bless him, he could see you’d read his message but left him without a response for ten minutes. Without giving yourself time to chicken out, you sent the picture to him. 

Sorry, I was distracted. 

He read it instantly, and it took a full minute before you could see he was typing. Then the dots disappeared. Then reappeared. Then disappeared again. You smiled to yourself, pulling your top over your head and flushing the toilet for good measure, before venturing back out and returning to the sofa. Dutch finally decided on what to say once you’d made yourself comfy. 

Come see me this weekend. 

If only. A weekend being fucked repeatedly was just what you needed, exhaustion already settling into your mind thanks to your busy schedule being back in action. Unfortunately, said schedule was exactly why you couldn’t. 

Can’t, sorry. I’m working tomorrow and Saturday. 

Fuck work. I’ll pay you. 

“What are you smiling at?” 

You glanced up, Karen looking at you inquisitively, Abigail taking her attention off the TV in turn to see what the fuss was. 

“Nothing?” you said casually. 

“You’ve been grinning at that phone of yours for five minutes.” 

“I have not been grinning.”  

She raised a brow, the look on her face turning to intrigue. 

“Please tell me it’s a guy. Or a girl. Or anything with a pulse,” Abigail pleaded, and you tutted while Karen cackled. 

“I’ve told you I don’t have time for that crap! Besides, I’m perfectly fine as I am,” you said defensively, folding your arms and ignoring the buzz of a message on your phone. 

“We all need a good screw now and again,” Karen said plainly, Abigail nodding in agreement. 

Don’t we just. “Oh, and Maquire is providing that service well enough for you, is he?” 

She shot you a glare, and as she was about to retort the main door opened, the man himself trailed by Javier and John. 

“Yeah, alright,” John said, his phone held up against his ear while he set the bag of shopping on the counter. 

“Hello ladies,” Javier greeted you all, beginning to put away their communal shop which was pathetically void of nutrients and taken up mostly by cans of beer. 

Sean pulled off his boots, hopping a little before it gave and sighing proudly when it did. “Any of you want a drink?” 

You shook your head, as did Abigail, but Karen held her hand out. 

“Ah, that’s why I love ya,” he grinned, handing a can out to Karen who scoffed in disgust before snatching it from him. 

“Okay, fine, yeah. I can do that. See you later,” John said, hanging up his call and letting his phone drop into his pocket. 

“Everything okay?” Abigail asked while John played tetris stacking the beers in the fridge. 

“Yeah, just my dad. He’s coming down this weekend.” 

That got your attention. Surely not - 

“Says Tilly’s been angling to see the city. He was just checking I was free to spend time with them.” 

“Aw,” Abigail sat up, “will we get to see them?” 

John shrugged, and your phone buzzed again. 

I’m serious. read Dutch’s previous message to you, followed by his most recent one: Looking forward to seeing you. 

You neglected to respond just yet, not wanting to draw any more attention to yourself. That man worked fast.  

“Where are you gonna take them?” 

“God knows. Knowing Dad,” John sat down beside Abigail, “he’ll have already drafted up a full itinerary.” 

You smirked at the thought, a warmth growing in your chest. 

- 

Dutch was fond of John’s friends. They were a decent bunch, and he’d been glad to see their familiar faces when he and Tilly arrived in the city the next morning, dropping their bags at the hotel before coming to visit John’s flat. He reminded himself repeatedly not to comment on the lack of cleanliness students seemed to thrive in. 

It was nice to see John, along with Javier who he’d watched grow up with his son. Abigail was extra friendly, and thanks to a little birdie he understood why. She was a nice girl. They were all nice. But the one he wanted to see the most was unfortunately yet to descend on the flat despite John’s assurance that everyone swings round all the time.  

“I’m going out for a cigarette,” Dutch announced, departing the flat and being met with the doorway to yours opposite him. He tried his luck, finding it unlocked, and mentally chastised you for being careless. He wasn’t sure which room was yours, though he thought it a good enough excuse to have wandered into the wrong flat should anyone ask. Two of the doors were ajar, and after a peek, he found them empty. The flat was quiet, and he decided there was no harm in trying the closed ones. He knocked on the next door, getting no response and so pushing it open. 

Dutch smiled to himself as the air entered his nose; it smelled just like you.  

Thanks to the strange layout, he could see the end of your bed and a slight bump under the duvet where your feet lay. “Tut tut,” he hummed as he took a couple of steps in, “you really should keep it locked – oh.” 

His brows pulled together as his voice died in his mouth at the sight of you fast asleep and bundled up in your bed, completely flat out. He debated waking you but was distracted by seeing the inside of your room for the first time. A little nosy never hurt anybody.  

Hands in his pockets, he observed the pictures up on your wall and smiled fondly at the ones including his drunken son. Then, he glanced over the perfume bottles lined up near your small desk mirror, then to the books and paper laid out beside your laptop accompanied by an empty mug from the previous day. It was then that he turned his attention back to you, hair ruffled with one arm out of the covers. 

Dutch sat on the edge of your bed and brushed a strand of hair from your peaceful face. It was enough to make you stir, and you cranked your eyes open. He smirked as he observed your expression, going from alarmed to relaxed when you realised it was him, then back to alarmed when you realised it was him.  

“You really should lock your flat, and your door,” he greeted. 

You rubbed your eyes, wondering if the man had come to visit you in a dream though it felt undeniably real as you remembered your conversation with John the previous day.  “Or perhaps,” you said around a yawn, “strange men shouldn’t let themselves in and sit on my bed.” 

“Strange men?” Dutch looked mildly offended. “I’d hate to know what you do with familiar men.” 

“Very funny,” you grumbled, pulling the covers up to your neck. “What time is it?” 

“Ten thirty. I didn’t think you were one to sleep in late.” His hand rested on your lower leg, and the added pressure was soothing and lessened your motivation further for starting your day. 

“I’m not. But I’ve got a long day today, so I’m treating myself,” you shut your eyes and felt Dutch shift his weight on the bed. You felt his warmth over you before you felt the kiss he pressed to your cheek, and you couldn’t help but smile at the sweetness of it. It awoke other unsavoury sensations that you usually repressed in the morning. 

It was as though he sensed it, brushing his hand up your leg and moving to kiss your jaw, an added tenderness compared to its predecessor. You sighed contently, the comfort of Dutch’s soft chuckle reaching your ears. There was no option but to give in, your eyes fluttering open as you shifted onto your back, allowing Dutch to manoeuvre himself on top of you. His face filled with pride, but when he moved in to kiss you, you put your hand up as a barricade.  

“I haven’t brushed my teeth,” you explained, and he huffed a laugh. 

“I could care less. But, if you insist,” his hand travelled further up the path of your body, cupping your breast as his lips tended to your neck instead, which you bared for him gladly. 

“Was it really worth coming all this way?” you asked, lazily watching him trail his lips around your skin. 

“Of course,” he said, hardly breaking his path, “need I remind you of my lack of interest in desiring a thing. I prefer -” 

“- to have it, right.” Dutch smiled up at you, and the tardy realisation hit you that you were now finishing his sentences. “How was the drive up?” you asked quickly, hoping to alleviate any teasing forming in his mind. 

“Just swell,” he answered, trailing his hand underneath your pyjama top to knead your breasts. His fingers moved gently in circles, testing your tenderness as they neared your nipple and lightly tweaking the now erect buds. Then his mouth came down over the fabric, and he sucked one into his mouth, leaving a wet patch behind that he eyed fondly once he was done. 

“You know,” you set up on your elbows, craning your neck to look at the door, “I really should lock my door. Just in case.” 

Dutch placed his palm on your chest, applying pressure until you lay back down. “No no, you want to leave it unlocked, then you leave it unlocked.” 

“I’m serious,” you attempted to sit up again but damn he was strong, “John lets himself in all the time.” 

“Does he,” Dutch hummed, moving his head down to suck your nipple in again and released, “I ought to teach the boy some manners.” 

“Dutch, it’s not funny. Let me lock the -” 

As you tried to sit up Dutch applied his full weight onto you and mouthed at your neck while all the air was knocked from your lungs. Strong and heavy. It would be a comfort if you could only breathe, and grumbled incoherently at your body’s response to being trapped by him despite the danger of the situation.  

“Now,” Dutch cooed, lifting his head and running his thumb along your chin, “don’t you worry. I’ve been fit to burst since you sent me those pictures.” 

“I thought you -” 

“I did, but it’s not the same.” With that, he eased off slightly as you gradually accepted this was a risk you’d just have to take, and wrapped his hand around your inner thigh to shift your legs apart. “Huh, looks like I’m not the only one.” 

You frowned down to observe what he was looking at and were met with the moist material of your pyjama shorts. “Goddamnit.” 

Dutch chuckled while he trailed his fingers up and down your mound, and it wasn’t long before you were grinding up in time with his movements. He always seemed to know the exact pressure and pace you wanted, and often reigned it back some so as to keep you frustrated. You were about to ask him to get on with it, considering the risk and limited time you had before your day started, when he removed his hand to undo his jeans and pull out his frustrated-looking cock. The man didn’t even look at you, nor give you any warning, before moving your shorts to the side and sliding right in. And curse your body once again, allowing him the smoothest of passages. 

A sigh of relief left him, the sort one would make when sinking into a hot bath. He stayed there a moment, nosing at your neck and brushing his palm down your flank to your shorts, the fabric of which he bunched up in his hand. At least you weren’t wearing any underwear he would inevitably steal. 

“How could this not be worth the journey,” he mused, and you realised he was in fact talking to himself. Still, you sighed out a laugh. 

Dutch moved his torso off yours, straightening up to grab your outer thighs in each hand. His grip was tight, bruising almost, and he held you right where he wanted you as he pulled out and began thrusting in a slow, deep rhythm. His head tipped back, and you stayed watching him, the euphoric pleasure seeping over his face enough to keep you lubricated down below. It truly was nice to know you were the cause of such a response. Well, your body, at least. 

“Now,” his heavy gaze met yours, and he leaned forward to plant one hand on your headboard and left the other gripping your hip, “let’s get to it, shall we?” 

There was no room to answer before he deepened his thrusts, his thick cock thoroughly filling you. He was perfectly anchored to the bed and you, and being leant forward slightly enabled him to brush over the plush, pulsating spot inside you repeatedly. Swiftly building up your impending orgasm, you thanked your accommodation for not giving you squeaky beds despite their questionable quality.   

Dutch’s grunts sounded at the same time as his thrusts, his lips pressed together to limit any other noise and you did the same, quiet gasps leaving you on occasion. “You gonna come for me, pretty girl?” he asked through a laboured breath. 

“Mhm,” you answered and wrapped your legs around him, pulling him further in and it was the last bit of motivation he needed to fuck you into your mattress until silently you came, back arching and hands gripping the duvet beneath. Dutch continued to fuck into you while your orgasm ebbed away, and you bore through the over-stimulation until he pressed his hips as far forward as he could, filling you up as you felt his cock twitch inside you.  

Your breath evened out while he dropped his head forward to run a hand through his hair. “My memory did not do you justice.” 

“That right?” you tilted your head in amusement and he hummed his agreement while slowly pulling out and doing a poor job of catching his spend. Guess you’d be changing your sheets today.  

“Mind if I use your bathroom?” he asked and you gestured to the door to your ensuite in agreement. While he was there, you pulled some wipes out from your side table and cleaned yourself up. 

“What have you got planned for today?” you asked as he ventured back in, doing up the fasten of his belt. 

“Probably get some food, walk around and see what we can find,” he pulled out a cigarette and lit it, gesturing to your fire alarm that was tactically covered by a sock. “You really are a naughty girl.” 

You snorted a laugh and sat up, while he leaned on your desk and cracked your window open to blow the smoke out. “Are they not going to wonder where you are now?” 

“I told them I was going for a cigarette.” 

“Huh, smart.” 

He raised his brows in agreement as he took another drag. “What time are you working until today?” 

“Late,” you shrugged. “I’m on until close.” 

Dutch tutted. “Well, my hotel isn’t far from your work, so you may as well stay with me. I’ll wait up.” 

“I don’t recall telling you where I worked.” 

He smirked, tapping the ash out the window. “You didn’t.” 

“Then how -” 

“I have my ways. I can be rather resourceful when I want to be.” 

“No shit,” you scoffed, ignoring the slight creepiness of him having that knowledge. “But no, thank you, I’ll be too tired.” 

“The hotel bed is very comfortable.” 

“I said no. Besides, you have Tilly with you,” you said, Dutch shifting his position to be half-seated on your desk. 

“She has her own room.” After a final drag, he stubbed out his cigarette and flicked it out your window. He walked over and sat on your bed again, taking your hand in his. “Just consider it?” 

“Fine,” you acquiesced, “I will see how I feel after my shift.” 

“That’s my girl,” he said, a pleased smile forming on his face and moved in to kiss your cheek before standing. “Be sure to say bye before you head off.” 

“Whatever you say,” you rolled your eyes, and with that, he departed, and the urge to shower became urgent. 

You had ten minutes to spare after getting washed and dressed, and couldn’t find anything to busy yourself with so you ended up visiting John’s flat after all. Your friends were all there when you entered, Tilly offered you a hug, and Mr Van der Linde greeted you casually when you entered the flat, like he hadn’t been pounding into you less than an hour ago. 

“Here she is,” John smiled, “you feeling better?” 

Dutch’s expression hardened so fast you could feel it, and you grumbled internally at John once again unintentionally putting his foot in it. “Yeah, fine,” you said quickly, “just needed some sleep.” 

“Perhaps you should skip some lectures and catch up some more,” John teased. 

“You’re actually going?” Javier scoffed from the sofa, taking his attention away from Tilly’s phone where she appeared to be showing him a video. 

“You know I have to,” you deflected, walking over to sit on the arm of the sofa beside him. 

“Eighty percent, you can stand to miss a few.” 

With a playful tilt of your head, you raised your brows accusingly. “Not worth getting into the habit.” 

“Get me a copy of the notes?” he asked sweetly, smiling up at you and taking your hand in his to place a kiss on the back of it. As always, you could never resist, nodding your understanding with a smirk. “Ah, Mr Van der Linde -” Javier’s expression dropped as he look at the man in question, “don’t tell my pa, okay?” 

Before he could respond, Sean decided to get a word in. “My da doesn’t mind me not going, says it’s better I don’t get my head filled by those pompous academic types. N-no offence, Mr Van der Linde,” he held his arms up placatingly. 

“Now, why would I be offended by that?” he asked, genuinely, though Sean visibly began to sweat. 

“No reason! No reason at all -” 

“And on that note,” you cleared your throat, deciding to save Sean before he inevitably fell further into his self-made hole. “I should get going. Nice to see you both again,” you said, mainly to Tilly, and hoped Dutch’s devious expression in response wasn’t as noticeable to anyone else. 

- 

If another person asked you to make a cocktail, you’d scream. It’s a Friday, do these people not know how filled to the brim with students this place was? You weren’t even sure why you offered cocktails at this stupid hour; everyone was too inebriated to even appreciate it, and who needs to spend extra on a drink when they’re out to get as plastered as they can, anyway? Just order a shot and be done with it - 

“Whiskey old-fashioned, please.” 

You turned, half-ready to lose your job for punching a patron and were met with a smiling Dutch on the other side of the bar. 

“Seriously?” you gestured around yourself, both as to why he’d ordered that and why he was there in the first place. 

“Why not?” 

“It’s busy,” you grumbled, making an exasperated show of preparing the glass. 

“Fine,” he chuckled, “just a double on ice will do.” 

You offered him a grateful smile, scooping a few ice cubes out of the tray.  

“Do you always speak to customers that way?” 

“Only the annoying ones,” you shrugged. 

“I’m in half a mind to tell your manager,” he raised his brows, leaning on the bar in a way that enhanced his arms as his burgundy shirt stretched around them. 

“Do that and I’ll ask you for ID. You forget I also have the power to withhold... other things,” you slid the drink over to him, and as you were about to announce the total, he handed you a twenty. “It doesn’t cost that much.” 

“It’s a tip.” 

“No,” you lamented, refusing to be his charity case, “it all goes in a pot anyway.” 

“Consider it an apology for my being a difficult customer,” he answered immediately. “And as a sweetener, so you don’t withhold your oh so generous offerings.” 

You tutted and placed the change to sit stubbornly in front of him on the bar. “I -” your attention was pulled to someone new coming up to the bar, “hold on a second.” 

After pouring out two vodka cokes for them, you returned to Dutch. “Where’s John and Tilly?” 

“John’s back at his flat, I think, and Tilly’s sleeping at the hotel,” he sipped at his drink, and you smirked as he tried to hide that this whiskey was not as fancy as his palate was used to.  

“Will Tilly be alright on her own?” you asked. 

“Of course. I plan to return soon anyway; I just need to pick something up first.” 

“What do you need to – oh,” you realised what – or rather who – he was referring to. “I haven’t agreed to come back with you. Besides, I’m still working.” 

“When do you usually finish?” 

“When everyone leaves,” you narrowed your gaze at him accusingly. 

“Ah,” he hummed in amusement. “It appears to be quietening down.” 

He was right. The crowd was certainly beginning to thin out, and you hoped that in true student fashion, they would all leave to go somewhere busier once they noticed. “I still haven���t agreed.” 

Dutch’s response was the inching of his fingers closing to yours, brushing them over your own secretively. “I would really like you to.” 

“I’m really, really tired, Dutch.” 

“That’s fine, you can go straight to sleep,” at the raise of your brows, he continued with a smile that inched on his face, “I mean it.” 

“I could be a while,” you excused yourself further. 

He finished the last of his drink, pausing a beat before finishing it. “Just text me when you’re done. Otherwise, I’ll stay here until everyone else has left.” 

“Okay, alright,” you rubbed your brow, supposing it couldn’t be too bad if you did just go there to sleep. By now, your trust in him had grown to the point where you believed he would’ve put all the measures in place to ensure the two of you weren’t caught. “I’ll text you.” 

“Good,” he said, pleased, and stood. “I’ll be going now, then.” 

“You mean you don’t want another one of those?” you pointed to his empty glass. 

He gave you an almost weary look, and a laugh slipped from you. 

“I’m only kidding.” 

He shook his head, and for the briefest of moments your heart skipped as you saw his rare, genuine smile. 

“See you later,” you concluded the conversation. 

Dutch folded his jacket over the arm and offered you a secretive wink. “I look forward to it.” 

- 

It was another hour before the bar closed, and you swiftly grabbed your bag from the back room, pulling your phone out to message Dutch at the earliest opportunity. 

You opted for waiting outside, a small way down the street in case any of your colleagues caught you swanning off with an older man who’d visited the bar. He didn’t leave you waiting for long. 

“That was sooner than I expected,” he greeted you, and on the short walk to the hotel, you answered his questions about how your shift went. 

“This is an expensive hotel,” you slowed on the approach, and Dutch rested his hand comfortably on your lower back. Somehow, you always seemed to forget just how rich he was. 

“You think they won’t let you in?” he teased, and you nodded genuinely. “Relax, darling.” 

That worked. Your body softened involuntarily, and walking in with him felt natural, easy. What you’d expected otherwise you weren’t sure, still hyper-aware of how you must look to a passer-by at this moment. Or perhaps they didn’t care. Dutch certainly didn’t. 

The two of you took the lift, walking down the well-decorated hallway until Dutch stopped and swiped his card on a door. You let out a breath once inside, kicking off your shoes and sitting on the edge of the bed without a second thought.  

“You and Javier seem to have an interesting relationship,” he commented, untying his shiny black shoes and placing them neatly by the door. 

“What do you mean by that?” you asked defensively. 

Dutch shrugged casually, clearly a façade. “You seem close. I wondered if there was anything there.” 

You scowled at him, too tired for this line of questioning. “Obviously not -” you paused, remembering yourself despite your newfound anger. “Well, we might’ve had a drunken kiss on our first week, but it didn’t progress beyond that.” 

“Hm. I thought as much.” 

“What is wrong with you?” you said sharply, “why would you ask that?” 

“I was only curious,” he held his hands up before unbuttoning his shirt. “I didn’t realise it was a crime to ask.” 

“It’s not. You’ve no right to be jealous.” 

“Who said I was?” he asked, leaning into a chuckle and it only aggravated you even more. 

You huffed out some of your anger. “It’s pretty obvious. I’m not stupid. And you’re not as good at hiding things as you think.” 

His face altered from unbothered to mildly entertained. “I don’t see why you’re getting so defensive. It was only a question.” 

Your mouth opened to let a retort pass through, but none came. The fucker wasn’t wrong, he had only asked. In your exhausted state, you questioned whether you’d read too much into it, and frowned at the ground while rubbing the stress from your brow. Keeping so much contained was a problem in times like this, when emotions escaped out into the world. “I don’t - I just -” you began, feeling yourself getting worked up. 

“Okay, alright, darling. Come here,” Dutch sat beside you, opening his arms and you tucked yourself into the warm embrace. 

“Sorry,” you sighed quietly, “this is why I didn’t want to come. I get grouchy when I’m tired.” 

“I can tell,” he teased, but the kiss placed on the crown of your head balanced it out. “You’ve been sick, John said?” 

“Not sick. Just tired this week, that’s all.” 

Dutch paused, tightening his arms around you. “It doesn’t look like you’re going to have any time to rest in the near future.” 

“I’ll take a weekend off work at something,” you mumbled, almost on autopilot as it wasn’t the first time you’d been berated for being too much of a try-hard. 

“Why do I get the impression you’re lying?” he asked gently, and your responding laugh was mirthless. “I like most things about you, except this.” 

“Except what?” you asked, resting your head on his shoulder to catch his eyes. 

“This incessant need you have to work yourself to fatigue. It’s unhealthy.” 

“It’s temporary,” you insisted. 

“If you would only let me -” 

“Don’t you dare offer me money again.” That was a place you’d never go to, a sense of pride far too strong to accept his help. You could do it. You just... need to complain occasionally. And maybe have someone that could help alleviate the stress using tried and true methods. “Wait, you said most. What else don’t you like about me?” 

He paused, as though he hadn’t expected that question. “I suppose how little time I get to spend with you.” 

“That’s a cop-out.” 

Dutch laughed, releasing you from his embrace and standing to continue getting undressed. A feeling resembling awe settled in your body at how proudly he stood, in only his underwear, while finding a pair of joggers to wear for bed. He hooked his thumbs into the band of his pants but paused, slyly looking over his shoulder at you. You swiftly averted your gaze. 

“You’re allowed to look, I don’t mind,” he said with amusement, and you only looked back once you’d heard his underwear come off and joggers come on. You were far too tired to go another round, but you feared your body would decide otherwise if you caught a glance of him fully nude. “Here,” he passed a plain t-shirt to you, “I suspect you don’t have anything to wear.” After you took it, his face fell slightly. “Not that I mind you sleeping with nothing on.” 

You rolled your eyes at his teasing, for whatever reason wanting to get dressed where he couldn’t see. “Does the hotel have spare toothbrushes?” 

“Sure, in the bathroom,” he pulled back the cover of the bed and got in, clasping his hands over his stomach. “Help yourself to whatever.” 

You did, brushing your teeth, washing your face, and changing into Dutch’s t-shirt. It was clean, but it still held his underlying scent. He was in the same position when you re-entered the bedroom and lifted the covers for you to get in. “Thanks,” you said, laying down and marvelling at how soft the bed was, a yawn escaping thanks to your newfound comfort. 

Dutch reached over and flicked the switches above the side table, turning off all the lights except the lamp next to him. Then, he brushed the back of his knuckle tenderly over your temple, and it took all you had to fight an immediate descent into sleep. You took the opportunity to shuffle closer to him, and he extended his arm so you could lay on his chest while he was propped up a little against the headboard. “Get some sleep, now,” he said, his voice a quiet rumble in the low light of the room. 

As you melted into him some more, the bare skin of his chest warm and soothing, he put on his glasses from the bedside table and picked up his book. “Aren’t you sleeping?” 

“I’ll sleep better if I read a little first. Don’t mind me, though.” 

“Okay.” You pecked his lips, and once you were re-settled on his chest sleep came easier than ever. 

- 

The gentle motion of fingertips slowly grazing the middle of your back was the first sensation to greet you upon awakening, and you blinked your eyes open to the hazy filter of morning sun through the window. You were nestled comfortably into Dutch, still using his chest as a pillow and glanced up, finding the man himself in somewhat of a daydream as he looked out the window. He noticed the small movement, though, and offered you a warm smile. “Morning.” 

“Morning,” you half-yawned, stubbornly closing your eyes to nestle further into his chest. How he was more comfortable than the bed itself you weren’t sure. 

“Sleep well?” he asked. 

“Like a log. You?” 

“Just fine. You’re nice to wake up to.” He placed his palm flat on your back, holding you to him. 

“You aren’t so bad yourself. What time are you seeing John today?” 

“I think we’re going for a late breakfast; I suppose whenever he’s ready. We have a bit of time, if you want anything brought up to the room?” 

“No, no, I’m okay. Thanks though. Actually,” you shifted up onto your elbow, rubbing the sleep from your eyes and internally deciding you preferred Dutch’s hair in the morning, a little messy from the night. “I wouldn’t mind using that shower.” 

“Be my guest,” he said politely. It was nice to lay like this with him, you’d expected him to have his hands all over you as soon as you’d awoken, though perhaps he was tired. If anything, he was more reserved than usual, and you hoped he wasn’t beginning to have second thoughts. You knew better than to question him first thing in the morning and moved to a seated position before swinging your legs off the bed.  

“Appreciate it.” You picked your clothes up from their crumpled heap on the floor and carried them into the bathroom with you before having the most glorious shower you’d had in some time.  

Checking your phone once you were finished, you realised you’d been in the bathroom for a full thirty minutes. Whoops. 

“Sorry,” you said as soon as you opened the door, Dutch seated on the bed, now dressed and rolling up his sleeves. “That shower was a little too nice.” 

The smile Dutch offered you was warmer, more awake, and more like himself than he had been previously. “Good,” he offered out his hand which you promptly took and pulled you towards him to stand between his legs, and he wrapped his arms around your lower back. “I’d say you’ve earned it.” 

You chuckled easily, glad to find out nothing was wrong, and he simply hadn’t woken up yet.  

“What time are you working?” he asked, while you ran a hand through his hair and settled it on his shoulder. 

“Early afternoon. I’m off tomorrow, but I’ve got work to do – what time are you leaving?” 

“About midday. Don’t worry about it,” he placed a kiss on your sternum, “I’d prefer it if you rested instead.” 

“I’ll try,” you nodded with a snort. 

“I would like,” he stood up, holding your hands in his, “to see you more frequently, if possible.” 

“I’d like that,” you looked up at him, and the deal was sealed with a kiss. “I’m not sure exactly when, but -” 

“We’ll work something out. I have your number,” he said conspiratorially, an alluring half-smile making him even more irresistible than he already was. “But I fear Tilly will be up soon, I don’t want her catching you on the way out.” 

“Good call,” you agreed, breaking out of the embrace to pick up your bag and double-check you hadn’t forgotten anything. “Have a good weekend.” 

“We will,” he pulled you in for a kiss, one that was tender and slow and left you a little breathless once you’d parted your lips from his. “Thanks for coming to stay with me.” 

“I’ve got to do my part for the community,” you shrugged, and his face dropped into playful annoyance. 

“Oh, that’s how it is?” 

You laughed, edging towards the door though he managed to pat your ass in reprimand before you were out of reach. “I might add this to my volunteering work on my CV, come to think of it.” 

Dutch laughed heartily, pressing his tongue into his cheek and shaking his head. “You truly can be a wicked woman.” 

With a proud, final smile, you stepped forward for a kiss goodbye then opened the door, checking the coast was clear before stepping out. At the risk of Tilly hearing you, you offered Dutch a simple nod before departing, which he returned. 

It wasn’t a short walk back to your accommodation, but it wasn’t long, either. The weather was good, and you were thankful it’d been nice for Dutch and Tilly’s visit up. It wasn’t lost on you that there was a slight spring in your step, every meeting with Dutch making your heart feel that extra bit lighter, and life feel an extra bit more accommodating. After last time, you’d attributed it to the sex, to the rush and release that was a rarity in your everyday. But perhaps it was him, and while this newfound feeling was a nice one to experience, the low hum of guilt and the prospect of where this avenue of exploration would lead you left a slightly bitter taste in your mouth.  

There was a possibility that Dutch’s philosophical suggestions were imprinting on you, but you actively decided not to dwell on the many possibilities and instead focus on that, for now, you had something that made your chest grow warm and your breath seep from your lungs. Perhaps this was what you were missing, a way to dispel your worries and fears even for a short while. And perhaps, on some level, this was something you deserved. 

#dutch van der linde x reader #dutch van der linde x f!reader #dutch van der linde #dutch x reader #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 #fanfiction #my stuff

[rosemaryandarsenic]

The Graduate

Gareth x fem!reader [abt 3k] A one shot, I might add more later? Best friends to lovers, summer, childhood, pining, crushes, a kiss. Reader and Gareth are both 18 in this, and Hawkins is “normal”, at least for them at this point. It’s graduation day, and there's a party to be had. 

Warnings: Slight spicy content, mentions of smut, implied smut. Substance abuse. Minors DNI, 18+. Tried to keep reader looks general, but she’s plus sized :)

Inspired by Every Breath You Take by The Police (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OMOGaugKpzs)

Gareth sat at one of the picnic tables outside of Hawkins High, still clothed in his graduation cap and gown, cigarette in hand. The ceremony had ended hours ago, but he wanted to sit outside one last time. Its not like he would miss the place, but it felt like not saying goodbye was wrong somehow. So he sat, openly smoking a cigarette and chuckling to himself as he reminisced. 

“Hey you.” Y/N said, wandering up to him with a smile. 

She stole his cigarette from his hands, taking a drag.

“Hey yourself.” He chuckled, swiping the cigarette back playfully. 

“Whatchya doin’?” She asked, hopping up on the table next to him.

He shrugged. 

They sat together smoking for a bit, silently.

“You going to the party later?” Y/N broke the silence. 

There was a graduation blast at Mark Cooks house that night, the whole school had been invited, including the “freaks”. 

“Free booze, who can say no to that.” Gareth said, “Eddie’s picking me up at like, 7?” 

Y/N nodded.

“You wanna come over first?” He elbowed her gently. 

“Yeah,” she elbowed him back, “I’m just gonna wear that I have on. I don’t feel like going back home and dealing with my dad today.”

He shook his head, mockingly making a serious face. “You gotta change, no one will talk to you if you’re looking like that.”

Feigning indignation, Y/N threw her hand over her chest. “What? You’re telling me this now?”

“I was going to tell you this morning but I didn’t think you brought anything to change into, y’know?” He gestured to her outfit, a pretty blue sundress. “Gonna give Munson a nosebleed.”

She laughed loudly, turning pink. “Anyone could wear literal garbage bags and Munson would still be foaming at the mouth.” 

“Anyone?” Gareth raised his eyebrows. 

“Shut up.” She groaned, throwing him the bird.

He grinned, and flipped her off in return.

“Now I wanna change,” she mumbled, fiddling with the hem of her skirt.

He groaned internally, regretting saying anything. As much as he was right about Eddie’s horniness, he also secretly didn’t want her to change. The way her skirt was flipping in the wind was…distracting. If it wasn’t y/n, Gareth would be staring too.

“Nah, its fine. Promise.” He poked her knee, trying to lighten the mood.

She groaned and shifted, standing. “Fiiinee.”

Gareth hopped up, standing next to her before offering her his arm. “Lets get out of this shit hole before they decide we gotta stay another year.”

She laughed, taking his arm and skipping towards his car. “Please.”

…

They sat outside, waiting as Eddie’s van rumbled towards Gareth’s house. You could hear it a mile away, screeching, with Iron Maiden blaring from the open windows. He rolled up, pushing the passenger door open from the passenger side. 

“Your chariot, Gareth the Great.” He yelled, glancing at Gareth before catching sight of Y/N. “M’lady.” He nodded, a little flush covering his cheeks. 

Gareth hopped in, shoving aside the little pit of jealousy in his stomach. It’s just Eddie, he does this with everyone. 

“Hey Eds!” Y/N said, pulling open the back door and climbing in, carefully situating herself in the back among the pillows and beer cans.

“Jesus, did you rob a liquor store on the way here?” She asked, waving at the bottles and packs of beer piled in the back. 

“I’m 21 now, so I thought I’d pull a few favors.” Eddie laughed.

“A few.” Y/n rolled her eyes. 

The drive to Mark’s house was short, thankfully, with Eddie’s driving. Y/N was used to it, but she clung to the door none the less, sliding around as he whipped around corners. 

“Watch the goods,” Gareth mumbled, getting a raised eyebrow from Eddie before he glanced in the rearview mirror and saw Y/N tumbling around. 

“Sorry y/n.” He said, sheepishly, slowing down a little. 

They pulled into the gated community, and parked behind the crowd of cars parked in the long ass driveway leading the Cooks house. It was practically a mansion, with people sprawled in the lawn and on the porch, drinks in hand and music blaring. 

Y/N spotted some of the girls from band, and waved happily as Robin’s gangly arms reached above the crowd, waving back. 

“I’ll be back!” She said as she ran, jumping into robins hug and squealing as the group erupted in choruses of “CONGRATULATIONS!!”. 

Eddie stood next to Gareth, watching Y/N run, and looking away hurriedly as her skirt rode up, exposing the dimples on the back of her thighs. Gareth didn’t turn away, eyes lingering a second longer at the exposed flesh and the way her legs rubbed together. The dress situation may be worse than I thought, he wandered to himself, as he tried not to stare at the pudge of her stomach and the way it curved into the slope of her hips. 

“Stare any longer and I’m getting a bucket of cold water.” Eddie chuckled, ripping him out of his trance. 

“Fuck.” Gareth muttered under his breath, giving Eddie the side eye. 

“S’fine,” he said, “She didn’t notice.”

Gareth grunted, turning back towards the van. “You need help carrying any of this shit?”

Eddie’s attention easily shifted to unloading the van, and he handed Gareth several cases of beer to carry inside. Gareth made his way to the kitchen, where the party was starting to pick up as dusk fell. Mark was hovering there, red cup in hand, yelling as he jumped from group to group, already drunk.

‘HEY MAN” he hollered, grabbing Gareth’s shoulders as he set down the beer. “Grab a drink! Welcome! Is Y/N here with you?” He prodded.

Gareth tensed up, avoiding the question. “Thanks, she’s somewhere around.” He said, as he spotted her across the room, now hovering by Robin on the sofa. She was talking to Steve Harrington, animatedly waving her hands, eyes wide. Gareth grabbed a cup and quickly poured some red punch in, it smelled like acetone but he chugged it anyway. Watching her interact with other guys shouldnt bother him. We’re just friends, he chided himself. They have been since elementary school. He still remembered the day they met, the way she’d been hunched in the corner of the cafeteria with a book. Encyclopedia Brown, he’d mocked, as she looked up at him with a scowl. “If you’re too stupid to read books that are actually interesting, just say so.” She’d stated. He’d read the whole series that summer and they’d been friends ever since. 

“Slow down there!” He came back to reality, as he heard a voice behind him. Eddie was behind him, looking slightly concerned as he’d watched Gareth angrily chug three cups full of punch. 

“It’s not even nine yet, man.” Eddie laughed, bumping Gareth over as he reached over the punch bowl to hand someone a beer. Gareth nodded, feeling the effects hit him already. 

The night rolled on, as everyone celebrated, games of beer pong lifting the mood as Madonna blared over the speakers. Y/n had gravitated to Eddie’s side by the pool, smoking a blunt as she watched the groups around her. Eddie was simultaneously dealing and smoking, his eyes sparkling as he weighed out a variety of drugs and pocketed cash.

She laid on his shoulder, head feeling hazy. 

“You good?” He stopped, tapping her head as she sat there. She nodded. 

“Too high for people.” She mumbled, and he laughed, letting her sit there. 

“You want me to take a break? We can go dance.” He said.

She perked up. “Yes!” She jumped up to quick and stumbled.

“Whoa there,” Steve said a few feet away, reaching out for her arm.

“I got it, s’fine.” She giggled, and Steve rolled his eyes. 

Grabbing her hand, Eddie led her inside where the music was loudest. Gareth sat on the carpet, back against the wall, nursing his own cup and watching as the room swirled. 

“Gare bear!” Y/N hollered, seeing him and running over on wobbly legs. “Dance with us!” She twirled, reaching for Gareth and pulling Eddie with her other hand. 

Gareth groaned, standing, and made his way toward the two as Y/N twirled more, her high making the music feel like it was coursing through her veins. 

Eventually, Eddie grew bored, and nudged Gareth. “Watch this one,” he whispered in his ear, “I’m gonna go get some waters.” Gareth nodded, leaning back agains the wall as he watched y/n. Her hair had fallen loose along her back, free from the braid it had been in all day. There was a soft flush along her cheeks, eyes glassy and lips pink and parted softly as she smiled. Her body swayed to the music, skirt brushing around her thick thighs, neckline shifted down, exposing her chest just a little. Metal started to blare, and she yelled excitedly, dancing harder. Gareth felt his heart pound as she leaned back, singing along, carefree and passionate. He felt his cheeks grow hot at the sight of her tracing her hands down her body, eyes shut, blissful. Maybe he’s the one who’d get the nose bleed this time. The song ended, and she finally seemed to tire, slowing as she turned to him and sidled over. 

“Hi.” She said breathlessly, leaning on him and panting a little from the movement. 

“Hi.” He said, resisting the urge to wrap his arms around her waist and nuzzle his face into her neck. He could smell her perfume, and the traces of cigarettes and weed. She was so close to him, it would be so easy. 

She sighed and he straightened his back, “maybe its time we take a break.” He laughed. 

Y/N nodded, smiling. “ITS SO LOUD IN HERE.” She said, grabbing onto his arm.

He nodded, gesturing his hand towards the pool outside. She shook her head. 

“I know a better place.” She whisper shouted into his ear, sending a shiver down his spine. Maybe it was the weed and the booze, but he could’ve sworn he heard a change in her tone.

“Lead the way.” He said back, grabbing her hand.

She pulled them both through the crowd, leading him further into the house and towards the stairs that led to the top floor of the house. A small sign lay crumpled on the stairs - NO GOING UPSTAIRS, it said. Clearly it was ineffective he thought as they clambered up.

“Y/N, what are you-“ Gareth started to say as she cut him off with a finger to his lips. 

“Shhhhh.” She mumbled, dragging him down the hall towards one of the back rooms. 

He felt his palms get sweaty. Everyone knew what the upstairs is for at this sort of event. Its not exactly a secret that couples would sneak upstairs for some….alone time. His stomach fluttered, and he shoved it down. This was his best friend, she couldn’t possibly be… could she?

“Give me a hand.” She whispered, as she pulled him into what he recognized as the bathroom and shut the door. “Open the window.”

He obeyed, trying to cover the way his fingers were trembling a little. She looked so pretty and flushed, and his mind wanted to go to some places it should not go. Not while she was so close, in that dress. He winced as the window creaked, sliding open. 

Y/N perched herself on the window sill and slung one leg over, looking back at him. 

“Right behind you.” He whispered, trying not to heave as she swung her other leg over, revealing a pair of white lace panties underneath. She disappeared through the window and he followed her, surprised to see how flat the roof was on this section of the house. She walked a few feet over, and plopped down, pulling her hair from her face and patting the roofing next to her. Gareth sat beside her, inhaling the clear night air as he looked around him at the view. It was actually breathtaking, the lights from the party sparkling below and the lake in the distance. 

“How the hell do you know about this?” He asked, turning to her. 

She blushed a little, smiling. “Eddie and I used to hide up here from the cops.” She chuckled. 

Of course, it was Eddie. Gareth sighed a little, thinking enviously of them up here alone. He never went to parties, didn’t like them, but the rest of the gang had their fair share of long nights. For Eddie it was the dealing, for Y/N it was band. She even hung out with the cheer squad sometimes. Highschool was not as isolating for her, and he was both mad about it and happy for her at the same time. 

“What?” She poked him, pulling a pack of cigarettes out of her sock. 

He shrugged, trying to find words as he watched her reach into her bra for a lighter. God damnnit. 

“Uh.” he mumbled, accepting a cigarette from her as she waited for him to reply. 

“I don’t know,” he managed, “I think maybe I drank too much punch.” 

She looked concerned, then grabbed his free hand. “I’m sorry.” She whispered as she played with his fingers. 

Finding it hard to focus, Gareths reply came slow. “S’not your fault sweetheart.” 

She grinned at the pet name. He’d seen how she reacted to it once and had mockingly used it ever since. 

She brushed her finger over his knuckles. “Can I tell you a secret?’ She said, and he nodded. 

“Mark puts like four bottles of everclear in that punch.” She laughed, and he groaned. 

“Thanks for the warning.” He laughed.

“I said I was sorry.” She giggled. 

She was staring at their entwined hands, quiet, when they both heard a thump from the open bathroom window.

“Shit.” She whispered, scooting back so no one would see them.

They waited for someone to come out the window, but no one came. Suddenly a moan echoed loudly from the window, and Gareth looked over at Y/N, eyes wide. 

She was trying to stifle a laugh as they heard another moan and a grunt. 

“Steve!” The voice said, giggling, and Y/N let out a quiet snort, unable to contain the giggles. 

“Oh shit,” they heard Steves voice, “the windows open.” Steve looked out, confused as he looked side to side, unable to see them at the angle they sat. 

“Must’ve been the wind.” He muttered, and they heard the window shut. 

Y/N let out another giggle, less quiet this time and they both dissolved in laughter. 

“Fucking Steve.” Y/N whispered, “he’s such a man whore.” 

“I don’t blame him.” Gareth whispered back, chuckling.

“Jealous?” Y/N quipped back, taking a drag from her cigarette. 

“You’re telling me if you could you would just put out all the time?” Gareth asked, leaning back.

“If I could.” Y/N giggled again. “Ill have you know I have no trouble in that department, thank you very much.”

“I didn’t mean-“ Gareth stuttered, turning pink.

“I know what you meant.” She smiled. “Its just…uh. Different for men?” She paused. 

“When I do it, people say things.”

“Things?” Gareth sat up, suddenly angry. 

“Calm your tits.” She laughed, “People are just mean. Can’t have sex without being a slut, cant be a virgin without being a prude. You know how it goes.” She sighed. 

“You’re not a slut.” Gareth whispered.

She looked over at him, their arms touching again. “I know, but thank you.” She whispered. 

“I’m also not exactly a prude,” she continued, leaning into him. “It is what it is.”

He wanted to desperately in that moment to make her feel better. There was an ache in him, reaching out. He’d had a girlfriend freshman year, talked to one or two people, but he’d never been this close with another girl before and it felt sacred. There was also something else there, something he ignored, a closeness with her that he knew was different. Sometimes it felt like lust, but mostly it felt like passion. He felt the same thing when he played his drums, all warm and buzzing, like every cell in his body was radiating with electricity. 

“Earth to Gareth.” Y/N said, reaching over to poke his nose. 

“Im here,” he laughed, “sorry.”

“Whatchya thinking?” She asked. 

He hesitated. “Just that..youre a very special person.” He blushed. 

“Special?” She whispered.

“Very.” He said. The booze was wearing off but he still felt the boldness. “To me.” He added. 

He could hear Y/N’s breath catch at the words, and felt his cheeks burn immediately. 

“I..shit, im-“ he started, regretting the awkward tension between them now, wishing he could take it back. 

She put a finger to his lips, shushing him. “Shut up for a second.” She said, looking at him intently. 

“Are you drunk?” She asked carefully. 

“No, tipsy?” He said, wondering if he should be blaming this on the alcohol. 

She nodded. “Im going to say something and I’d like you to know that Im high but like, just a little bit not a lot.” She rambled. 

He nodded, his heart pounding again.

“I…I think…I KNOW,” she paused, “that you are a very important person to me too.”

Gareth felt like the weight of the world was lifting off his shoulders, like he might float off the roof. 

“Very special?” He whispered, leaning in.

“Very.” She replied, still staring at him. He saw her gaze shift from his eyes to his lips for a split second and cracked. In one swift gesture he bridged the gap between them, smashing his lips onto hers and pulling her towards him. She leaned into it, kissing him with so much fervor he fell onto his back, pulling her on top of him. A soft moan came out of Y/N, her lips leaving his and making their way across his face, down his jaw and towards his neck. 

“Gareth…” she whined, leaving wet kisses down his neck before locking onto his lips again. 

He was gone, practically drunk on the taste of her and the feeling of her pressed against him. He never thought shed like him back, not Y/N, the perfect girl next door with the softest body and kindest eyes. Neither of them was taking care to be quiet as Y/N shrugged the flannel off his shoulders, pawing at his shirt, and moaning in his mouth like she was dying to be as close to him as possible. She was swallowing his own sounds of pleasure as he pulled away, gasping for air. They lay there for a minute, catching their breath as Gareth traced his hand up the back of her thigh. His fingers didn’t stop at the hem of her skirt, instead pushing it up slightly to feel the roundness of her butt, the hem of those lace panties making him groan softly. 

“You don’t have to stop.” She whispered, brushing her nose against him, adjusting herself into a straddle position over his lap. 

He kissed her softly this time, hand tracing the outline of her underwear up her thigh. She shuddered at the touch, cheeks blooming with red under the moonlight. 

Stopping for a moment, he reached up and cupped her face.

“Be my girlfriend, Y/N?” He begged, quietly.

She hummed, nodding, her reply a clear yes and she leaned in to kiss him again. 

“Finally.” She whispered. 

#gareth x reader #gareth the great #stranger things

[zoubissoux]

party favours

summary: your best friend robin is in a bit of a pickle, and who else to help her out is there, but you? did she forget to mention eddie munson?

word count: 2.6k

warnings: mentions of drugs, drug use, FLUFFFFFFFF

“seriously, robin. if i wanted to be arrested for drug possession, i could think of a million other ways to do it.”

“really? you?”

you closed the lid on your flute, sitting snug as a bug in a rug within its case. “really. me.”

robin scoffed as she threw her trumpet with little care into its case, shutting its locks with a click. “for some unknown reason,” she eyeballed, looking you up and down, “you make that very hard to believe. besides, you’d really be doing me a favour here. you owe me, remember?”

“remind me?”

“last month when you skipped band practice to go to the mall? i had to tell mrs. blancher you came down with the craziest case of diahorrea?”

your fellow bandmates were slowly filing out of the music room, the blanket of chatter slowly leaving with them. hoping to escape this ploy you were very obviously being dragged into, you threw a handle of your backpack over your shoulder and grabbed your instrument off your chair. “you sure that was a favour?”

hurriedly grabbing her things and following close on your heels into the hallway, robin was growing desperate. “okay, okay, okay. i know it might not have been the best excuse, but i did it out of the goodness of my own heart! doesn’t that count for something?”

“okay, whatever. why can’t you just go get it yourself? i don’t understand why i have to go for you.”

“because i just so happen to have a shift at the video store with steve and won’t have time to do much else before the party.”

you rolled your eyes.

“pretty please? please, please, please do this eensie weensie little thing for me?” robin clutched her hand’s together so tightly that her knuckles were almost white, eyes scrunched closed in prayer.

despite not being friends for a very long time, you had to admit that your soft spot for robin ran pretty deep, as much as you liked to hide it. “alright! okay,” you sighed in admission. “i’ll go see munson.”

lunch was a sort of organised chaos - one that you never really had to think about beyond getting your food and walking to your usual table near the windows. if you really focused and examined your peers’ seating arrangements, you might be able to find some sort of hierarchy, but admittedly you were more interested in the food in front of you.

robin came into your field of consciousness with the grace of a baby deer, slamming her lunch tray onto the clear space of table next to you and making herself comfortable on the bench seat. “ah, how we meet again!” she laughed, nudging your shoulder.

“very funny, rob.” you laughed in response, nudging her back. “study period got you on the ritz again?”

“you know it. but something else has been nagging me even more, believe it or not.” she sighed into her meatloaf before downing a heaped spoonful. oh no, you think, i was hoping she forgot about that.

“i have.. almost this sixth sense.. that you’re avoiding the the task i so graciously handed off to you yesterday.” she raised her spoon at you, eyes reduced to slits. “am i right?”

you shrugged, quietly picking at the mystery meat in front of you. “i haven’t forgotten, don’t worry. just.. waiting for the right time.”

as if thinking the same thing, you both turn your heads to peer at the table a few from your own.

eddie munson was quite the character. ever since you started at hawkins’ high as a freshman and first seen him in the flesh, you had held a sort of fascination with him. you’ve always preferred keeping your head down and keeping to yourself, it’s always been easier to handle the lack of drama when you’d always been sort of… forgettable. the main character in a filler episode type of personality. but this boy never seemed to care what others thought of him - the mischevious smile that never failed to reach his eyes, that playful glint in his eye; it was enough to piss people off, but you found yourself a little jealous of his reckless abandon. your memory of him doesn’t pale in comparison to how he appears in front of you now, it only created a clearer picture.

although you couldn’t exactly tell what he and his friends were talking about, you could still hear the echoes of his voice travel across the cafeteria and see his arms wildly gesticulating something to the boys sitting around him. if you hadn’t known any better, from this angle he looked a bit like an excited kid (albeit, a kid two years older than you).

as if he could feel your gaze on him, he whipped his head around to look in your direction. he caught you staring long enough to throw you a questioning look. you continued to blankly stare at him before being ripped out of your reverie by a painful pinch from your neighbour. “eks-nay on the staring-ay, doofus.”

you quickly realised that you were basically staring all googly-eyed at eddie munson and were caught in the act by none other than the aforementioned party. “fuck. FUCK.” your hand flew to your brow to shield yourself from his view as you began to closely examine your meatloaf.

robin sounded exasperated, joining in on your stealth mission. “you better hope he doesn’t charge extra after that stunt you just pulled.”

“surely not? besides, its not like he’ll remember who i am.” you sneak a peek back at his table through your fingers to see if he was still looking your way. huh. “okay, coast is clear. he’s gone.” it seemed a bit strange that he had just disappeared, but you decided not to question it and count your blessings.

“i swear to god, it feels like the universe is throwing obstacle after obstacle at me in the revelation that i might have some fun tonight.” you let out a breathy laugh at robin’s epiphany, resting your head on her shoulder.

“god, you’re telling me. i never knew this would stress me out so much. i haven’t even asked munson to meet yet!” you let out another giggle, too slow to realise that your friend had gone stiff.

“what do you mean you haven’t asked munson to meet yet?” you lifted your head to meet robin’s raised eyebrow.

“well, i mean- i was going to do it later.. like at last period, or something? isn’t that how it works?” something tells you that no matter what you said here was the wrong answer.

“y/n…” robin shook her head. “at least give him some notice! i bet ten dollars we will not be his only customers today and his services will be in high demand. you have to ask him now. like as soon as possible.”

you found yourself at a loss for words. just as you were about retort back at robin for not giving you any sort of direction, an unfamiliar voice answered for you.

“ask me what?”

eddie was standing right behind you and robin. dear god.

robin was the first to turn around with a sheepish grin. “heeey, munson.. we were just talking about you.”

you gulped, hoping that the floor would just swallow you whole and you wouldn’t have to sit through this interaction any longer.

“yeah i figured. saw your friend checking me out all the way from my table,” he smirked, turning his attention toward you.

his indignance seemed to awaken a little fire within you, causing you to sit up straight and look at him dead in the eye. “i… was not.”

eddie let a small chuckle escape his lips. somehow your feigned confidence served as an invitation for him to make himself comfortable on the bench seat next you. turning his body toward you, he rested his chin in his hand and grinned maniacally at you. “so, what did you want to ask me?”

seeing the infamous troublemaker up close was a lot more pleasing to the eye than you originally thought. you didn’t exactly have the luxury of time to inspect his every feature, but you knew that roguish sparkle in his eye belonged to him. besides, his cocky act was enough to piss you off a little bit. “for weed, munson.” you decided to mimic his smile, resting your own chin in your hand. “were you hoping for something else?”

“honestly? yeah,” he moved closer, testing your resolve. your faces were nothing but a breath away from each other; it took everything in you not to shuffle backwards into the safety of robin. “but i can be patient.” his brown eyes flittled between your eyes and your lips so quickly you could have imagined it. he suddenly stood up and stepped away from the table to take a bow. “i shall be seeing you at the park bench in the woods at 4pm, m’lady.”

“oh.. okay.” you both sat there watching eddie, dumbfounded. it was as if what just happened was a hallucination - he shot you a wink over his shoulder as he left the cafeteria and disappeared into the hallway.

you turned to robin to get some look of reprieve, only to be met with a gaze that said i told you so. “could’ve been worse, right?”

there was a notable chill in the air; the leaves were yellow, orange and red and while some of them held on for dear life, most of their fellow leaves created a colourful palette on the forest floor.

counting the leaves one by one was the only thing holding you together right now. all that was running through your head - or rather, that you were trying to distract yourself from thinking about - was how you embarrassed yourself so collosally at lunch. what were you thinking? what was that whole thing? eddie is kinda weird.. isn’t he? well, it explains a lot of what you’ve heard and seen thus far.

oh man, who cares anyway? you think to yourself. it’s not i’m ever going to speak to him again. it’s not like he’ll remember me beyond whatever happened today.

you stretched your jumper sleeves over your hands and scrunched the material up in your palm, obscuring any lingering cold breeze that dared to slip through.

yeah, it’s fine. i’m so fine. i’m just going to do the deal, head to the party and forget any of this ever happened.

“hey-“

so enrapped in your own thoughts, you didn’t expect to hear a voice coming from behind you, sending you flying up from your seat with a yell.

“woah, sorry. didn’t mean to scare you.” eddie stepped back with his hands up, one still being occupied holding a small metal box.

you took a second to gather yourself before sitting back down. “it’s fine. sorry about that.” you were trying to push out the thought that you have just embarrassed yourself for the second (or was it third?) time in front of this guy and you weren’t sure if you could handle another stint of this.

the table seemed like an awfully interesting subject of focus instead of the drug dealer who was now circling back to sit across from you. from the corner of your eye, you could see eddie trying to hold back a grin, his lips pursed into a thin line. just my fucking luck. ugh.

“so-“

“well-“

you lifted your head to look up at him to find a familiar pair of brown eyes looking straight back at you. you couldn’t help but mirror the grin eddie projected, and before you knew it, you both burst into laughter.

“god, sorry! i’m a bit of a nervous mess, aren’t i?” you giggle sheepishly, scratching the back of your ear.

“understatement of the year,” eddie chuckled, playing with the latch on the little box. “we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. just say the word.”

the wall you created around yourself softened to clay at his comforting words. maybe he wasn’t so scary after all? or is that just what he wanted you to think?

“thanks, but i’m good.” you nodded to yourself. “how much does thirty dollars get me?”

“maybe enough for a small family of 4?” eddie answered back in disbelief. “didn’t peg you as the type.” he raised his eyebrows at his container, leisurely collecting the goods together.

you almost corrected him, but your curiousity got the best of you. “the type to what?”

“oh i don’t know,” he threw his hands up. “the type to buy a pound of weed out of the blue?”

“thought this was a ‘no questions asked’ kind of transaction?” you raised your brow, causing eddie to bite down his lip bashfully and continue to carefully scoop the leaves into a little bag for you. “but you’re right, munson. it’s not for me - it’s for robin and her other friends.”

“oh yeah?” he pressed the bag shut along the suction closure at the top. “big party tonight?”

“you haven’t heard? it’s at patrick’s house on cornwall.” eddie looked at you blankly. “patrick mckinney? on the basketball team?”

“ah, that explains it.” you and eddie exchange packages; three ten dollar bills for a medium sized ziploc bag filled with little balls of green. “you haven’t heard? those assholes are allergic to freaks. not that i care to get to know the monkey living in their empty skulls.” he looks down at the money in his hands for a beat, before shuffling it back into the box.

“well… i wouldn’t say you’re a freak.” you squeezed your lips together. as best as you tried to keep to yourself, it was definitely hard to ignore the bullying that went on. it wasn’t fair to the hellfire club to keep taking all the ignorant insults thrown their way. over a board game? and music? are you serious? you couldn’t believe people were so dense.

“really?” you had piqued eddie’s interest. maybe that moment in the cafeteria earlier wasn’t a one off occurence. “what would you call me?”

you looked at eddie. really looked at him. from his wild curly hair, brown eyes shimmering with curiousity, mischevious grin, all the way down to the chunky rings he adorned - he looked nothing like a freak. he was cute, you’d admit it to yourself, but never to him. “i would call you… interesting.”

“hm!” he smiled widely, nodding to himself. “well, you might be the only one who thinks so. thanks.”

without even touching them to check, you could tell your ears were burning bright red. “anytime, munson.”

sitting across from each other just smiling had you both fidgeting with nothing after a few minutes. “well, i guess i should be going.”

“oh. yeah. sure,” eddie seemed to be caught up in his own thoughts until you started getting up. following your lead, he awkwardly waited for you to gather your things before he joined you on the walk back down to the parking lot.

“is this not a violation of customer policy or something?” you joked, hiding a grin.

eddie looked over at you, metal box jingling in his arms as he walked beside you. “maybe,” he shrugged. “gotta say, our hr department sucks.”

you giggled, covering your mouth as you did. “i kinda wish you were coming tonight.”

“really?”

you have no idea where this sudden rush of confidence came from; it was a total 180 from earlier today. explaining this stir in your chest after such a brief interaction was bound to sound ridiculous once it left your mouth, so you decided against it. “really.”

eddie did little to hide the grin spreading across his face. “maybe i could make a quick stop on the way home.” he looked over at you, brown pools of hope clouding his eyes. “do you need a ride?”

#eddie munson #eddie #munson #stranger things #stranger things s4 #stranger things imagine #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #joseph quinn

[allocnddits]

LATE NIGHT DRIVES r.b.

an:sexy blurb times. just a quick Robin x reader car sex

Robin had spent the night at your place and asked you to drive her home, something that shouldn’t be a problem. But as soon as you started your escort wagon her hand landed on your bare thigh, slightly going under your jean skirt and it was extremely distracting.

“Rob, what are you doing?” you turned your attention to her. she was looking out the window, arm rested on the door.

“Nothing” she said moving her hand closer to your knee, “you just got me all hot and bothered before we, you know, got interrupted.”

“We could stop somewhere…”

“Are you suggesting we pull over to fuck?” she sounded surprised to hear that coming from you “Since when you do this kind of shit?”

“Are you challenging me?” you asked looking around for a place to stop. You landed on a random sketchy street, barely parking the car before taking your seatbelt off and climbing the seats to get to the back.

“Are you sure you wanna do this right here?” she questioned, turning her torso to look at you as you unbuttoned your sheer blouse.

“Well, yes.” you answered as you pushed the shirt down your shoulders and arms. “Come on, it’s not like we’re gonna get caught here.”

“Oh, you’re gonna get us in so much trouble” she laughs before giving in and jumping to back of the car.

Before you know it you’re sat on Robins lap, sliding the jacket off her shoulders as her tongue explores your mouth eagerly. Her hands are under your tank top unhooking your bra, yours trying to get her thick shirt off. “So many layers, it’s not even cold robs.”

“Oh, shut up” she flips and arranges your bodies in the tight space so she’s hovering over you, her leg between yours, knee right against your clit. Her lips were all over your neck and her hands were undoing the buttons on your skirt as yours were on the back of her neck, pulling her impossibly closer.

“Shit, so pretty” she said after she finally managed to pull way to take your shirt off.

“Rob, please, do something.” you whispered as her lips found your nipple, she gave them a little bite, making you arch your back, pressing your chest into her mouth.

She traveled down your body, kissing down your stomach then skipping to your thighs, she kissed and bit them slowly making her way up to meet your underwear. Robin flipped your skirt up, twisting the sides of your cotton panties on her fingers and pulling them down. She arranged herself properly between your legs, laying on her stomach as he kissed your inner thighs, grabbing what she could from your ass with both hands.

“Roro, please, need you.”

She ran her finger through your folds spreading your wetness before circling your clit. She trailed kisses from your bellybutton to your clit finally taking it into her mouth and sucking. Her finger made its way inside you, instantly finding the perfect angle and pace. It curled right onto your g spot, all the stimulation making you whimper and squirm under her touch.

“More, Rob, more.” you begged and she smirked against your core, soon adding a second finger.

She took her free hand up your body, cupping one of your boobs before playing with your nipple between her fingers. You could feel yourself getting closer as Robin drove her fingers deeper into you. Her thumb replaced her tongue on your clit as she left deep purple marks all over your inner thighs.

“So close, Robin, please.” you moaned as she came back up to kiss you.

Your pleads were all that took her to make her movements faster. With her fingers quickly curling into your g spot and her thumb working over your clit you finally reached your high with a moan into her mouth. She worked you through your high with less intensity as you smiled onto the kiss. Pulling away she smiled as you started giggling, stuck in the bliss of your orgasm.

“What’s so funny?” she teased before you pulled her down for another passionate kiss. “Oh, someone’s not done.” she sat up, pulling you to straddle one of her legs.

“‘Course, i’m not done.” you said snuggling your hands in her bra to cup her boobs. “Gotta make you feel good too.”

“I think that will have to wait a little” she whispered in your ear as her hands started to guide your hips back and forth against her thigh.

“Oh, fuck, Rob.” you moaned, surprised with the sudden stimulation as your head dropped forwards against hers.

“C’mon, babe, make yourself cum on my leg.” she teased cupping your boobs before taking your nipple into her mouth.

Your hands left her boobs and met her shoulders, holding tightly as she sucked your nipples hard, alternating between them. She pulls you into a deep kiss as you make your movements faster.

You feel your second orgasm approaching and start moving in circular movements against her leg “Oh, shit, shit, so close” your grip tightened on her shoulders as you came and her mouth left your nipples to appreciate your state.

You dropped your forehead against hers for a couple of seconds, catching your breath before sliding off her lap. You sat back on the laid out blanket, skirt all messy and tits out on display. This time you pulled her to seat on your lap but her head hit the car ceiling, dropping to the side.

“Oh no, Robin,” you crawl on top of her, “I’m sorry. Did it hurt?”

“No, it’s fine. Just-“ she pulled you in for a kiss, wrapping her legs around your hips. You unhooked her bra, sliding it down her arms, taking a moment to appreciate her chest. Repeating her movement from earlier you brought your knee to meet her clit through her jeans. “Fuck, baby I need you now

You knelt up, undoing her button and zipper, struggling to pull off her jeans. Once they were off you quickly climbed over her kissing down her neck to her chest, teeth softly gliding against her nipples as your hand cupped her heat, middle fingers going inside her underwear.

“Wait, I can’t, my leg’s cramping.” she complained. You threw her legs over your shoulders, just eager to have her entirely.

“This better?” you looked up from between her thighs.

“Yeah, better”

“I wonder if this is easier for straight people.” you questioned as Robin got her underwear off.

“Let’s not kill the mood even more.”

“Yes, ma’am ” you dove right into her, catching her clit with your tongue before sucking it into your mouth. Your hands were on her thighs, making their way up her ass to her small waist squeezing it. You looked up as her hand went to your hair, pulling it back so she could take a better looks at you.

“Such a pretty face.” she grabbed your chin guiding you up to kiss her soft lips. Your fingers finding their way to her soaked entrance and penetrating at once. “Oh, fuck, baby, your nails.”

“Shit. Sorry, totally forgot I got them done.” you apologized and knelt down again wrapping your arms under her legs and pulling her closer. Face to face with her heat again you place a kiss to her clit then licking a long stripe down to her entry. Your mouth concentrated on licking, sucking, biting and kissing all over her pussy and tights as your thumb played with her clit.

Robin’s hands never left your hair and from time to time you would lift up your gaze to look at her right in the eyes. Her moans getting louder by the minute, you could tell she was close. Her legs started closing around your head and you made your thumb movements faster, slightly penetrating her with your tongue. Her hand was covering her mouth, she didn’t want to be interrupted again, so keeping quiet was the way.

“Oh, baby, fuck. So fucking-“ she came mid sentence, her words completely leaving her mind, forgetting that she ever knew how to speak for a second. “Oh, shit, that was perfect babe”

You looked up at her, a stupid smile painted on your face, both of you lost in the post orgasmic haze till you herd a knock on the foggy window.

“I told you we were gonna get caught.” robins paranoia was turned on in a second.

“Shut up” you whisper yelled at her, throwing her clothes at her naked body. “get dressed.” told her as you did the same as quickly as you could.

You climbed back to the front seat, trying to look out the window but it was too foggy, so you rolled it down to find Steve staring at you with a smug look on his face.

“Having fun out here? hasn’t anybody told you it’s kinda dangerous to park this close to the woods? Who’s the lucky guy?”

“Steven, what the fuck are you doing here? Scared the shit out of me, for gods sake.”

“Steve?” robin climbed next to you, finally dressed.

“Robin?” he took a second to click “Oh, you’re the girl Robin is seeing, wow, you think you know people.”

“What the hell are you doing here, dingus?”

“I’m taking the trash out. And you decided to stop for some fun times right behind my house.” he laughed.

“Oh my god. Are you serious?” you laughed covering your face in embarrassment.

“How the fuck did we not notice? Okay Steven, thanks for the scariest moment of my life but we gotta go now”

“No. Am i late?”

“Shut up, you perv”

“Gotta be more careful next time.” he warned as you rolled the window up.

“I can’t believe this.”

“Just drive, please. Don’t look back. Oh my god, i don’t think i’m ever having sex again. He’s never letting this go. Do you think he’s pissed that we didn’t tell him? Are you okay about this?”

“Robs, it’s fine, okay? Calm down. Just put your seatbelt on.”

“Sorry”

#robin buckley #smut #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley smut #robin buckley imagine #robin buckley x fem!reader #maya hawke #a writes

[monkeydluffy19920]

Is Nami a mermaid? The evidence includes: An original drawing by Luffy of Nami as a mermaid. Her name means wave in Japanese. Shirahoshi instantly liked her. Nami understands the ocean even without any formal training. She’s Swedish (this is important because Scandinavian mermaids warn sailors of storms and danger). Her past is completely unknown. Also, she has constantly worn those two circles on her skirt and pants that we see the mer guards wear

Hiya Nonny and thanks for the ask :)

First of all, amazing background work made there!  It took some time for me to do some as well so sorry for the delay but let’s move forward to the ponders whether Nami could be a mermaid.

This post will most likely be long since there are lots of interesting themes to talk about so here we go! :)

Mermaids in (Scandinavian) mythology

Ok first the basics, mermaid is a mythical sea creature with the head and trunk of a woman and the tail of a fish, conventionally depicted as beautiful and with long flowing golden hair [x].

Since you Nonny made a good point about Oda-sensei picking Nami’s nationality to be swedish so I will (try to) focus on scandinavian folklores in this post.   By the way, if you dear reader are native Swede and know more about the folklore please let me know, I’m completely leaning on Google at the moment *laughs*

Anyway, in Sweden Mermaids are called Havsfru and they are believed to be seen in the open ocean, living peacefully with other creatures that live in the oceans. According to the legends, the sailors that meet mermaids usually give little sacrifices such as small coins, food or warm pieces of clothes in winter in order to honor them and as an exchange, the Havsfrus repay the kind gestures with either sharing weather information (i.e warning for approaching storms, or good winds, like you Nonny said) or warn them about icebergs etc.

Mermaids can take different figures, an indescribable beautiful lady (like Sanji dreams of) with the tail of a fish tails and sometimes they move with legs. Also according to the folklore, mermaids can also transform into another sea creature.

Transformation is something we saw in Water 7 when Oda made a plot twist and made Kokoro saved Zoro and the others from a huge wave: 

In European mythologies, all kinds of tales have given mermaid a very  variant imagos. Sometimes they were portrayed as beautiful and seductive maidens who were greatly desired by lonely sailors whereas they also were sometimes portrayed as siren-esque beasts that dragged men into the inky-black depths.

Also in swedish folklore, the continuation of your travel depended on the way you treated the mermaids. If you refused their requests, you surely got to taste the wrath power of hers and you’d end up deep down to the sea with your sunken ship. If you were nice and did what she asked, you would get rewarded.

If we think about this mythology and compare it to Nami’s appearence, we indeed can see some similarities in her and mermaids’ characteristics. First of all, she now also has long wavy hair Sanji imagined her to have before the time skip (frankly spoken that mermaid Sanji mentions back then indeed looks a lot like Nami, especially in colored version, not only the hair but the earrings and stuff) but again it can all be coincidence.

We can reminisce the  she still worked for Arlong she was sneaky and used her cute appearence to fool other pirates (just like mermaids lured sailors) in order to rob them and also she charmed Sanji to get away with paying the food in Baratie. 

Now that One Piece has gone further with Time Skip and stuff Nami hasn’t used her looks so much to fool the enemies. I think there are various reasons for this, first of all back then she worked all alone. So she needed always to be one step ahead of the game if she wanted to steal the gold and stuff.

Now she is a part of a pirate group which means she can always lean on her crew mates and second important reason is that her fighting skills have been improved a lot. She started with a (portable?) stick-kind of weapon which wasn’t quite strong but enough for her to get away just in case.

Now she has a clima-tact that has been upgraded ever since it was introduced the first time and now we can say that now she really is strong enough to fight so she won’t end up in such trouble first hand.

Last one thing why Nami doesn’t use her looks is that she simply doesn’t have to. She collected money to save the her home village from Arlong but now that Arlong is out of the game she can be more relaxed. One of her life goals was achieved. Also, she is now a part of a pirate group. Her main occupation is being a navigator.

Despite that she is still proven to be a quick and excellent thief. She freaking robbed a whole village while bidding them goodbye at Cocoyashi *laughs* She keeps her thief-skills still updated because she snatches important things every once in a while.

The point is, stealing money etc. isn’t a must anymore for Nami. Like a thing which her life depends on, it’s nowadays more like a “hobby”. Also now it’s easier to steal stuff vs. when she was alone so no more need to fool the others with body and so on.

Ok then about the other thing, at least from the comical aspect the travel indeed depends on Nami’s mood. I mean not only hers but if she is in a bad mood, she isn’t shy to show it.

No matter canon or filler one of the running gags is that Nami hits people to make them behave or stop the idiocy. This we learned very well before Skypiea when she was literally so pissed off because they became laughing stocks at Jaya.

Nami indeed is a great strategist ad negotiator, I mean she even got Zeus to turn against Big Mom. Let’s not forget that Zeus was made of Big Mom’s soul so a literal yonko soul is scared of a random pirate. That is something incredible.

But let’s not forget Nami does have a soft side too. Despite her greediness is huge running gag she did give away some treasure back in Thriller Bark which was a big moment of confusion for Luffy and Usopp.

Not only this but also in general Nami "repays" the good deeds which means she is thankful for everything Straw Hats done for her and gives back too. She might give chills if things are not in order (as a comical relief though) but she deeply cares about her nakama and is very protective of them.

For example it was her who felt the most openly distress when things start to fall apart in Water 7 and even tried to fix things by reasoning her mates. Then back in WCI she drove forward the retrieval team and showed constant worry about her missing nakama.

Let's not forget that Nami was also ready to save random kids at Punk Hazard (since she herself experienced a miserable childhood after Bellmere died she could somehow relate to the childrens' pain although they didn't know for a long time) so it really speaks for the fact that she is far from selfish.

We must not also forget that although her element is air, she also enjoys swimming a lot. That alone doesn't make her the mermaid but I have to say it's an interesting coincidence Nami was chosen to be a mermaid in one of that One Piece Straw Hat Theater-episode where Straw Hats were mythological creatures.

This was part of Oda's One Piece Omake-series so even though it was "fictional" and "spin off"-styled, I partly wonder Oda picked the mermaid-role for her on purpose.

Nami's unknown past

So, like Nonny said, we know just a little scratch of Nami’s past. She first met her foster mother Bellmere in Oykot where the Marines went to save the kingdom that was battling for some unknown reason. Then later she adopted little Nami and Nojiko and raised them in Cocoyashi Village.

There is basically nothing told about this place named Oykot (which is Tokyo backwards) but somehow it’s almost 50% safe to expect that Oda-sensei somehow returns to this topic and perhaps even reveals more about Nami’s origins (because things have been connected earlier too and everything seem to have a meaning when it comes down to the main characters, the Straw Hats and their character growths).

Like mentioned in this post, what puzzles me the most in this flashback in chapter 77 is the smile of hers. Also Nojiko is pretty much a “wild card” when it comes down to Nami’s past. Why?

Because when Bellemeré asks Nojiko claims that they are not blood related siblings. However she carries Nami around the rainy battlefield so it kind of gives the vibes that they might know each other but I don’t know enough to tell whether it’s normal to carry a stranger in your arms as a kid in middle of a battlefield.

Nojiko and Nami do look alike, maybe it’s Oda’s way to draw but this could indicate that they could actually be (distant) relatives?

She understands the ocean

So, in the folklore-part was talked, mermaids had some sort of ability to predict the weather and they'd share the information to the men of the seas. Nami's one most significant skill is related strongly to the weather (and linked to the ocean) this is something for example Vivi brought up back in Grand Line.

It's an amazing skill, no one knows where she has inherited it (like from books or just going by gut-feeling?) but she has honed it in Weatheria and even if she wasn't a mermaid, her skills are still beyond amazing!!

Friendship with Shirahoshi

Nami and Shirahoshi befriended quickly back in Fishman Island. Hard to say what was the "ice breaker" but mysteriously Nami replies her compliment with: "I guess we have some things in common".

This could be interpreted in many ways but somehow I have the feeling Nami is relating to the similarities in their pasts: both were under the influence Fish Men (and literally trapped by them) and lost their mothers tragically. They are also both emotional too. Would be interesting though if Shirahoshi would be the only one to sense Nami's mermaidness and at thait point these panels could become foreshadowing:

She has constantly worn those two circles on her skirt and pants that we see the mer guards wear

Frankly spoken, I've never paid attention to this detail so this is a great catch, Nonny!!!

There might not be info about who has created one of Nami's favorite clothing brand (which seems to be the one with the two circles-style since she wears it a lot in different forms) but perhaps it has taken influence on Fishman Island?

An original drawing by Luffy of Nami as a mermaid.

So, Luffy drew a “mermaid” version of Nami inspired by Sanji’s thoughts by basically adding hair and eyelashes to his sketch of fish-man. That could be another great foreshadow from Oda for sure but at least we know one thing. Oda is great with details and loves hiding easter eggs and atcually in chapter 262, Luffy’s drawing can be found too "alive"!

All in all, the conclusion of this post is, I really find this theory interesting although I can't say for sure whether there could be possibility that Nami is secretly a mermaid but it would require another arc for her.

Nami basically had already one main arc but now to think about, this could be a huge plot twist just like Sanji had, another arc that explained basically everything I mean.

So, who knows, anything can happen in the story of One Piece!

#one piece #nami #cat burglar nami #dorobo neko nami #long post #answered #thanks #anon #ponders #analysis #theory #//got carried away *laughs* #//sorry for the wait! #//but thanks also! Theories and headcanons are fun to ponder #mermaids #mythology

[dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night]

Tales of Iyuetse: The Enemy of My Enemy part three

Whumptember day 9. “This was always going to happen”| Doomed relationship | Opposing sides

TW: military, injury, stab wound, blood, dead bodies, minor character death, battlefield, passing out, mandatory bed rest, fear of death, religion, human whumpee, vampire caretaker, human whumper

Note: We're skipping ahead a bit. Don't worry, we'll get back to Jahda eventually.

In the heat of the moment, Marcus hardly noticed the dagger sliding into his belly. But his body rebelled against the unwanted intruder, muscles spasming around the blade.

Finally realizing his peril as adrenaline flooded his veins, Marcus fled, stumbling over bodies of soldiers lying dead on the ground.

It seemed hours before he found a familiar face. Jaran, tearing out the throat of an imperialist soldier, and drenching himself in human blood.

This sight didn't help his fear in the slightest, but Marcus couldn't think of anyone else who might care to help him. God forgive him for finding refuge in his spiritual enemy.

"Jaran," Marcus gasped, unable to bring his voice above a whisper. "Help me, please."

Aided by his supernatural hearing, Jaran heard him over the din of the battle and dropped the body of the soldier he had killed.

Wasting no time, he picked Marcus up in his arms and carried him back towards camp. Marcus clung to him, trying to ignore the searing pain in his stomach.

The blade would have to be removed, but not yet. They had no bandages to wrap the wound or alcohol to prevent festering.

No human so brutally injured could have made the long trek back to camp on their own, so for the first time, Marcus was grateful to be fighting alongside vampires.

Auras obscured Marcus' vision, growing more intense the longer he tried to ward them odf, and an awful ringing robbed him of his hearing.

Was this really what it was like to die? Dizzy and senseless in the arms of your compatriot, knowing your life to be a lost cause?

He must have fallen unconscious before reaching camp, for he woke in a medical cot. The slightest movement was agonizing, so he laid still. He was grateful for the dim and quiet room, though it threatened to lull him back to sleep.

"Hey sleepyhead," Jaran said. "Glad you're not dead. You had me worried."

Marcus groaned and looked up at Jaran. "Are you… holding my hand?"

Jaran immediately let go of his hand and laid it gently on the cot. "Sorry. I was just- uh… I was checking your pulse."

"Uhuh." Marcus grinned sleepily. "I know those pointed ears of yours could hear my heartbeat from twenty yards away."

"Fine, I was just worried you were going to die. Because humans do that. A lot."

"So do vampires."

Jaran scoffed. "Not as much. And not as easily. This was always going to happen. I just didn't think it would be so soon."

"So, what's the prognosis, doc? Am I gonna make it?"

"We got your wound cleaned up. You won't even have a scar. Benefits of vampiric coagulants. You're welcome for that."

As repulsed as he was by the idea of Jaran taking it upon himself to lick his wounds closed, Marcus was very glad to have survived. Though he didn't particularly like owing a life debt to a vampire, even one as seemingly friendly as his newest companion.

"Did we win?" Marcus asked.

"We cleared the imperialists out of Rohim Province. Most of them tucked tails and ran as soon as they realized how many goddamn vampires were actually joining the fight."

"That's some good news. So, you leeches are good for something.""Hey, this leech saved your sorry ass." Jaran smiled. "I think that makes us friends."

Marcus wanted to protest, but couldn't find the words. Maybe making friends with old enemies was the right way to move forward, as long as he was careful not to fall into any temptation.

He tried to sit up, but Jaran pinned him down with a firm hand on his shoulder. Marcus struggled against his supernatural strength for a few moments, managing to utterly exhaust himself but not to escape.

"You have to rest for at least another day," Jaran said. "The sun is already up, so I can't go anywhere without getting burnt to a crisp. That means I'm going to sit here with you until sunset. Got it?"

"In that case, you should still be holding my hand."

Jaran did as he was told. The clammy sensation should have repulsed Marcus, but he couldn't help thinking how nice it was to have a friend around to make sure he didn't bleed out.

Taglist: @hugh-lauries-bald-spot @whumpsday @whumpshaped @heavenlyeden @thecyrulik

#Abraham original: Hot off the press #Whumptember2023 #Whumptember day nine #'This was always going to happen' #Doomed relationship #Opposing sides #Military whump #whump writing #Whump series #Human whumpee #Human whumper #Vampire caretaker