#i mentioned this before but i love how this race felt like an epilogue and it was nice to see everyone having fun and enjoying themseles | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dilemmaontwolegs · 10 months

Text

The Aftermath || LN4 {13}

Pairing: Lando Norris x widow!reader Summary: Lando is still struggling with his anxiety and it seems to only grows with time as he tried to balance work and parenting. Warnings: 18+ only, hurt/comfort, mentions of dad!PND WC: 3.4K

F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || Ten || Eleven || Twelve || Thirteen || Epilogue

“I thought this was supposed to get easier,” Lando grumbled as you sat in bed, your laptop screen filled with his image. The bright late afternoon sun was streaming through the window in your room but it was night where Lando was in Miami. “I feel like I’m letting everyone down. I can’t concentrate on the race because I’m thinking about you two, and I can’t be at home because of the race…I hate this.”

“I don’t know if it's easier, but I guess it will become a new normal in time. We’ll be with you at the next three races, just have to make it through this one.”

“I need this two week break to hurry up and arrive. I just need to be able to go to put Ren to bed and tuck her in,” startled cries sounded from the cot across the room as Renleigh woke from her nap, “and I need to be there to pick her up when she cries. I think I’m going out of my mind.”

The catch in his voice broke your heart and you grabbed your phone off the bedside so you could message Max. “You don’t know how much I wish I could take away the hurt you’re feeling, Lan. I don’t want you to be alone so Max is getting on the first flight he can. And before you argue, he is happy to do it. We are both worried about you, babe.”

“No offence, love, but I don’t need Max, I need my family.” He dropped his chin onto his hand with a sigh.

“I’m just a phone call away, day or night. But if you want snuggles, Max will have to do for a few more nights.”

You left the laptop for a moment so you could reach into the cot and bring Ren over to see her daddy, waving her little hand to the camera. A smile finally graced his lips as he waved back and leaned closer to the screen to kiss his camera.

Placing her on the bed, you both watched her try to crawl towards Lando. “That’s it, my girl,” he praised as she rocked forward before face planting into the soft blankets. “Getting there, you’ll be racing around in no time.”

“Speaking of racing, you should be getting ready for bed,” you reminded him gently. “Max will be there in the morning to keep you company and you know you can talk to him about anything.”

“You make it sound like I need counselling,” he joked but it fell flat when you shrugged. “I’m fine.”

“Okay, it’s just…your job is already so stressful, then the addition of a baby…it’s a big change and it’s alright to admit that. Dads can get PND too.”

“Really?” His brows pinched together as he fell silent.

“Even if you are fine, I think talking to someone else might still help. Remember when you got me to go to counselling? You said it wasn’t anything to be ashamed of and it isn’t.”

He didn’t look convinced as he muttered, “yeah, maybe.”

“Just think about it,” you suggested as he started to yawn. “And get some rest, babe. I love you.”

You felt like you had come out of hibernation as you sat beside Lando, your fingers entwined as he drove to Imola. Since giving birth you had hardly travelled anywhere, opting to keep Renleigh’s arrival private, so everyone close enough to know about her came to your house to visit her. That would all change on Sunday and to say you were nervous was the mother of all understatements.

Your stomach was tied up in knots just thinking about trying to navigate the busy paddock with your precious baby. Lando had already organised plenty of security to escort you everywhere but your overthinking and paranoia whispered that there were still so many things that could go wrong. It lingered even when you tried to focus on the here and now.

The radio played quietly in the background but it was Ren that you listened to, her babbling in response to Lando’s chattering keeping you both entertained and distracted. You turned in the seat to see her smile in the small mirror and her papaya socks kicking in the air.

“Someone is excited to make her debut,” Lando said with a chuckle. He gripped the wheel with one hand and the other came to rest on your thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze. There had hardly been a moment where he wasn’t holding some part of you since his return, needing the comfort of your touch to ground himself and suppress his growing anxiety.

This was the most relaxed he had been in months and you smiled back at him, grateful that your husband was returning to his old self.

“Why are you smiling like that?” he asked with a nervous laugh between glances as he drove.

“Do you ever just stop and think ‘I have never been happier than I am at this moment’?” you asked as you traced the beauty spots that dotted his arm like a constellation of stars that would always lead you home. “It’s almost painful how happy I am right now, like my heart is going to burst right out of my chest.”

“Please don’t,” he chuckled, reaching up to stroke your cheek before concentrating back on the road. “That was me this morning, well, every morning I wake up beside you. Seeing the sunlight catch your hair, the peace on your face when you bury it in my neck and snore.”

Ren’s arms startled into the air at the sudden laugh you barked and Lando’s grin grew at the sound of pure, unfiltered joy. “That was almost romantic! You were so close to a blowjob, until you lied.”

“You do snore, and it’s cute!” he stated seriously before casting you a sly smile. “So about that blowjob…”

You leaned over the console and kissed the sharp line of his jaw, tracing the curve to his ear. “Tell me I snore one more time.” He clamped his lips closed and you smirked as you sat back in the seat. “Smart man.”

Lando put the car in park and turned the engine off but made no move to open the door as he sat quietly with his hands still on the wheel. His qualifying had gone great the day before and he was starting the race in P3 but the race was far from his mind as he looked at the high fence ahead, knowing the circuit was just on the other side.

“What if we are doing the wrong thing?”

“Lan, we can’t keep her bubble wrapped for the rest of her life. And we are going to make mistakes, that’s just a fact, but there’s only one way to find out.” You looked out the window and saw a group of men wearing McLaren shirts that showed off their large muscles. “Your papaya army has arrived, and they bought the big guns too.”

Lando snorted and relaxed a little, though the wariness never left his eyes as he unbuckled his seatbelt and stole a kiss. “Thank you.”

Lando’s fingers tightened around yours and he placed his other hand protectively over Renleigh’s back. He had debated putting her into the stroller that remained folded up in the car boot but the need to keep her close made him strap the front pack to his chest. Every few steps his head would dip down and he would place a tender kiss to the top of her head, whispering soothing words that were more for himself than her.

“What’s the weather forecast?” you asked as you tipped your head back to the skies and wondered if you had imagined the kiss of raindrop on your skin.

“Chance of rain, but it should only be light.” He took a look around himself and narrowed his eyes at the grey clouds on the horizon before picking up the pace a little. His quick walk stalled when he reached the paddock gates and patted his pockets for his pass to scan and swore under his breath.

“Looking for this?” you teased as you pulled his pass out of your pocket along with yours.

“Have I told you how much I missed having you here?” he said as he took his pass and scanned it, his photo popping up on the little screen before he stepped through the barrier.

“You may have mentioned it once or twice. Is Maria here already?”

Lando nodded, mentioning he had messaged her earlier and she had already arrived at the track with Zak.

“Maybe grand-mere can look after you for a little while,” you whispered as you tickled Ren’s feet through her socks. “Then mummy and daddy can sneak off to his room for a few minutes.”

“Minutes?” Lando scoffed at the insult and you grinned knowing his competitive side was coming out despite the fact the man’s stamina was far longer.

“If you want to prove me wrong…”

“I’ve done that multiple times a day, for the last two weeks, love,” he smirked as he whispered in your ear as you walked along. “But if your memory is that bad, I’m sure I can remind you.”

Your reply was lost as a huge swell of people came into view through the gaps in the wall of muscle ahead, the chaotic screams suddenly piercing the air as Lando was spotted by the crowd. Your mouth was still parted in shock but the sound of a shaky breath didn’t come from your lips.

“Can we get to the garage, please?” you asked the head of security and he nodded, just as eager to make it through the mass of people.

As effortless as Lando made it seem, he was never truly comfortable in large crowds and the birth of his daughter had only increased his social anxiety. You could feel it now as his palm heated against yours, his skin clammy and grip tightening to an almost painful hold. He was using you to anchor himself and fight back the panic so you bit the inside of your cheek and let him crush your hand.

“Almost there, baby,” you soothed as the men moved to the shape of an arrow that speared the crowd apart.

Cameras flashed and fans screamed as they spotted the baby tucked into Lando’s chest, just the brown tufts of her curls visible. Those too were hidden as Lando cupped the back of her head and hummed a sweet lullaby to distract himself from the questions thrown his way. There was no way he could bring himself to stop and answer any of them until Ren was safely in the McLaren area, he couldn’t risk her safety among the strangers. It was only when he caught sight of the grey and orange coloured motorhome that he could muster up the courage to slip his hand away from yours and offer a small wave.

The fear and reservations you had held never had time to surface while you focused on Lando but when you passed the doors and the outside world was silenced you finally breathed a sigh of relief. “We did it, Lan.”

“I don’t like this,” he admitted as he continued to his driver room. A bassinet was already set up with McLaren blankets and it made his lips twitch into an almost smile as you helped him to take Ren out of the front pack. “I can’t believe she slept through all that.”

He placed her into the bassinet and tucked her in while you wrapped your arms around his waist and kissed his shoulder. You knew it wouldn’t be long until she woke up for a feed as a heaviness ached in your breasts so you had to make the most of the quiet moments while you could, dragging Lando to the couch and forcing him to sit down.

“What’s going on in that handsome head of yours?” you asked as you combed your fingers through his hair and tugged the stands so he looked at you. “Talk to me.”

“I thought having you both here would be easier, but I still feel sick,” he admitted after a minute of drawn out silence. “I need you here, don’t get me wrong, I hated being away from you but now I can't…I don’t even know how to explain it.”

You waited patiently for him to collate his thoughts, holding his hand while he watched Ren sleep peacefully. He longed for that peacefulness too.

“Infinite possibilities, it’s something Andrea gets us to think about when we race. One move can make a difference, one millimetre off the line could be the difference between the fastest lap or ending up in the gravel. Every action has an infinite amount of possibilities and it’s my job to figure out which is most likely to happen.” He took a deep breath from his quiet ramblings and exhaled a long sigh as he slowed down his words. “I can’t stop thinking about the infinite possibilities with Ren. Every bad thing that could happen, everything that could go wrong, I see it in my head. All. The. Time. I can’t stop.”

His words died out with a sob and you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into your embrace as he fell apart. This was the moment you had been expecting, though it was still gut wrenching to witness. All the ups and downs this season had been leading to one cataclysmic peak where he had to release the pent up thoughts he had tried to suppress.

“Do you remember that day at Silverstone, the first time I came back to the paddock?” You knew he was listening by the way he held his breath to silence the sobs that jolted his shoulders. Rubbing his back softly, you kissed his temple and stared at the poster on the wall, seeing how much his face had matured in the last four years.

“When I sat in your room alone it was like time stood still. I had so much time to think that I imagined every horror scenario of you and your car and that fear made my stomach turn. I couldn’t eat anything all day,” you admitted as he pulled back with shimmering eyes and damp cheeks. “But the moment I saw you napping in the cockpit of your car I could finally think again. Not a single one of those scenarios came close to what was actually happening in that moment.”

You wiped his eyes and cupped his face in your hands. “It doesn’t matter that there’s endless possibilities for how the future might go, Lando. All that matters is this moment, and wasting time thinking about things that may never even happen only makes us miss out on today.”

“You aren’t scared we are making the wrong decisions?”

“Of course I’m scared, babe. But I know the man I married and I know that the decisions we make, whether they are right or wrong, come from a good place.” You placed a hand over his heart, feeling the bump under his shirt of the necklace he wore for Ren. “That’s the best any parent can hope for.”

His hand came to rest over yours for a moment before he lifted it to his lips and kissed your wedding ring. “I need to go but I’ll be back before the race starts.”

You nodded as he went to the small bathroom and washed his face, looking clear headed and calm once more. “Are you alright?” you asked as he started to undress and grab his fireproofs from the closet.

He pulled the skin tight material over his head and looked at your reflection in the mirror. “No, but I will be.”

The honesty was more relieving despite his words and you were glad he hadn’t just lied and said he was fine.

With a small smile, he leaned into the bassinet and kissed Ren’s cheek. “I love you, little lady, more than anything in this whole wide world.”

Five years after Imola had stolen your breath away, it had done it again. This time your voice was hoarse from the screams of support and happiness as Lando won the race.

It was as if all the tears ever shed at the circuit were released from the heavens to cascade upon the track with only three laps to go. Max and Charles had just passed the pit entrance before the deluge fell but Lando had made the split second decision to box and change to full wets. He had quickly caught up with the better grip and took the lead when they pitted on the next lap.

You hadn’t been able to move from where you stood rooted on the balcony in front of the home straight. Lando had always been able to dance in the rain, making his car sing in harmony to the beat of the drops on the blacktop. This was his element, but every turn gave you heart palpitations.

Yellow flags flew as some drivers tried their luck with their slicks, praying the rain would pass, only to spin out when they hit a puddle. One rookie aquaplaned off the track, leaving tire ruts in the grass, before rejoining the track and you gasped as Lando had to swerve to avoid him.

“We saw there was a close call on that final turn. How stressful was that?”

“It was scary, so scary. Knowing that my wife was watching just ahead, and seeing that car come right in front of me…my wife and my daughter, they were all I could think about. It’s so wet out there, turn too quick and there’s just no grip, nothing to keep me on the track. I was certain I was gone when that car came at me.”

Lando brushed his cap off and combed his hair as his lips pressed tight to hide the tremble. “It was so scary. You just have no idea what it’s like in those split seconds where you react on instinct and don’t know if you have just saved your life or forfeited it. It’s a risk, and I used to find it fun when I was younger but not now. I have too much to risk now.”

You cradled Ren closer as the McLaren team let you through to the front of the barrier. You hadn’t planned on stepping out of the motorhome but Lando was clearly not okay and you needed to get to him.

“It’s hard to be excited over winning when I thought I had just about made my wife a widow again, or that my daughter was going to grow up and not know me,” he said, answering another question that you had missed as you navigated your way out of the garage. “As much as I love this sport, and I am grateful for all the people who have helped me to get to where I am, I love my family more.”

He seemed to sense you in the crowd and Renleigh started to cry in your arms as you reached the barrier. The reporter followed him as he crossed the short distance and pressed his sweaty forehead to yours. “I’m going to be alright,” he whispered for only you to hear before he took Ren, who instantly settled on his shoulder, as the crowd ‘awww’d at the sight.

“I have been thinking hard about this for the last few months,” he continued as he gently bounced Ren back to sleep, “but this will be my last season in Formula One. I have always put 100% into what means the most to me and I haven’t been able to do that with racing taking me away from my family.”

The shock that rippled through the crowd and stunned the reporter into silence didn’t reach you. You had seen the look in his eyes when he parked in front of the 1st place signage and pulled his helmet off. He hadn’t thrown his hands in the air, he hadn’t waved to the crowd or his team. He had fallen to his knees and ripped his gloves off to feel the solid ground beneath his palms as the rain continued to fall.

The microphone shifted to you as you watched Lando hold Ren tighter and brush his lips over her dark curls. “It must have been harrowing to watch that last lap, especially since it wasn’t far from where you laid a wreath earlier today.”

“I trust every decision Lando makes. I knew he would make it through,” you said with a reassuring smile to your husband as you clutched the necklace that held your first wedding ring. “And every year when I visit I ask René to watch over him. Maybe he was listening all this time.”

Click here for the epilogue.

Tagging: @yunnie-f1 @neiich @zendayabelova @stillbreathin @dr3lover @writerscurse @christianpulisic10 @alwaysclassyeagle @alexisquinnlee-bc @purplephantomwolf @lightsoutletsgo @pleasantducktimetravel @pierre-gasllllllyyyyyy @holy-macncheese-balls @belennasif @ophcelia @love4lando @ryiamarie @mickslover @tyna-19

#lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x you #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 rpf #f1 fanfic #formula one imagine #formula 1 fanfic #formula one fanfiction

622 notes · View notes

whimsicalwritingsandmore · 3 months

Text

Want You Back | ateez x reader

Pairing: werewolf!ot8!ateez x werewolf!reader

Genre: fluff mostly, romance, poly, a little angst?

Warnings for this chapter: another mention of a sharp object

Word Count: 2073 words

a/n: there will be an epilogue. :) not gonna lie, I'm a little more nervous for this chapter. let me know your thoughts! happy (heh) reading!

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

Chapter 11

And when you thought about it, you didn’t think it would end up like this.

You had no clue where you were going. As much as you tried initiating your bond with Hongjoong, he did not respond to your calls. You were relying on your dazy memory of your dream and muscle power, and also a silent prayer in your mind to the Moon Goddess to protect Hongjoong and assist you in finding him.

Wandering around Seoul in your condition was the worst and in the back of your head, you could practically hear Seonghwa reprimanding and reproaching you for your decision. But you were not going to turn back, as much as you were unsure about Hongjoong as a mate at the moment, you feared your dream coming true.

You were not going to let it happen.

Please show me the way. Like a mantra, you called on the Moon Goddess for assistance as you paced forward. Suddenly, effortlessly, you felt yourself being guided. You weren’t sure where you were going but you trusted the feeling inside you and continued down the path.

After a long trail, you found yourself outside an abandoned building. And abruptly you felt Hongjoong’s bond; he was inside. Without much thought, you raced inside despite every aching part of your body begging you to slow down. But you were resolute and had to find Hongjoong before it was too late.

Thankfully, Hongjoong was alone, hovering over a table.

“KIM HONGJOONG!” you bellowed.

Hongjoong thought he was hearing things but when he turned and saw you in the flesh, either he was finally losing it or it was really you in front of him. When you grabbed him and shook him around, then he realised it was really you.

“Y/N!? What- what are you doing here!? You were unconscious!? How are you -”

“I woke up and we need to leave now!” you stressed.

“What? No I can’t and you shouldn’t be here! You still need to recover!”

“Kim Hongjoong, we will deal with that later, right now we need to get somewhere safe.”

“Why? Wait, Y/N, I-” Hongjoong paused as he tried to pull himself together.

Here you were in front of him, looking at him with concern and worry, and pulling him with you. He looked at you with tears in his eyes.

Still, despite what he did, you cared.

“W-Why are you doing this?” he whispered.

“What?”

“After everything, why do you still care about me?”

You softened at Hongjoong’s broken look. The light that once shone so brightly in his eyes dimmed to flicker behind his tears and his expression resembled one like a wilting flower. Why did you care? You had more than enough good reasons not to. Loving him had hurt so much, and left you with a broken heart, that weighed so heavily when you thought about it, you could barely make yourself move, much less feel. If you could even feel anything, you felt the sadness and grief bleeding every time you thought about it. The intensity was agonising and the weight of the despair felt soul-crushing.

But seeing Hongjoong in your dream sent shockwaves throughout you. Despite the turmoil that swirled inside you, Hongjoong is your first love and you needed to save him. You will protect the leader of the strongest pack and your mate, no matter what it took.

“Because I love you,” you answered, “Because…despite all your stupidity and foolishness, I love you Hongjoong, I did then and I still do. And I don’t know what that makes me, a fool I guess, but that’s okay. Because you mean a lot to me no matter how much I might try to convince myself otherwise.”

Honjoong gazed at you tenderly as the tears stung like shards of glass. You were always going to be the best decision he ever made. Cautiously, he reached for your hand to hold in his, and traced along your knuckles in a silent confession. He loves you too. Your love story is a winding path with so many unexpected twists and turns but somehow, you always end up right back to one another.

Gazing at Hongjoong, you decided to do something risky. You hesitated, your eyes flickered to lips before meeting his eyes. His eyes drooped to your linked hands, and so, drawing in silent and shaky breath, you used your free hand to lift Hongjoong’s face and tilted your head slightly as you connected your lips to his. His lips were still soft like you remembered.

Meanwhile, Hongjoong felt a spark of electricity travelling throughout his veins. His eyes widened but he dared not ruin the moment. He kissed you back with just as much tenderness and sweetness, cupping your face to pull you in closer.

As the two of you parted, a flurry of emotions raced through each of you but before either of you could speak, the sound of a door being broken down interrupted you. It sent you right back to remembering your dream. Your heart began to pound furiously and each beat echoed the growing fear as each crash was a flashback to your dream. The fear felt unshakeable and magnified the panic that was beginning to take over you.

Hongjoong drew you near and wrapped his arms around your waist. His hand behind your back was a comforting attempt as he slowly rubbed soothing circles. He stood straight as his eyes flashed to his werewolf gold, ready to protect you. The similar feeling of uncertainty surfaced and you gripped Hongjoong’s shirt, signalling that you felt something wasn’t right.

“Joong…”

“No matter what happens, you will always be the one, in this life and the next and forever.” he said.

And with that, he pulled you as close as he could to him, as everything exploded around you.

On the other side, the other boys were restless. Seonghwa gripped his hands in his hair furiously as he tried to process everything that was happening. Currently, they were with Chan and his soulmates, trying to decipher where you were. The hospital camera caught you leaving the premises, but where you headed after turning the corner was a mystery.

When Yunho retold them everything Hongjoong had said, Seonghwa wanted to do nothing more than barge into the mansion and end Mrs Kim right then and there. But before he and the boys could even think about that, you snuck out and Hongjoong was somewhere in this big city.

Chan had a bad feeling. He felt it the day he met you. It was a feeling that wouldn’t go away, and as he researched and studied, he realised someone was out to get you, someone wanted you gone and wanted to take away everything you had. You didn’t deserve that, he could see it in your stars, that you deserved a beautiful life of prosperity, love and success. But there was an evil eye that envied you and didn’t want you to live that life. Chan promised himself to protect you and he could tell the other boys also did so secretly.

But Chan was only a wizard and could not control fate.

“Guys…” Jeongin called from the window.

As Chan approached, he was taken aback at the massive gang of rogues that stood outside. Seonghwa too was surprised - where did so many rogues even come from?

“What are we going to do?” Jongho asked.

“We can take them.” San said resolutely, “Then we will find Hongjoong and Y/N.”

Chan and Seonghwa looked at each other, both silently confirming to the other. They watched their respective soulmate groups, each member ready and prepared to take on whatever happened next.

Chan looked at Jisung who nodded in confirmation to Chan’s telepathic message to him

“Then,” Chan said, “We fight, we fight to the end if we have to because none of us will go to that woman as prisoners.”

“And no matter what happens,” Seonghwa continued, “Remember that we will always find our way back to each other.”

“They’re all gone.”

Mrs Kim stood in the middle of the foyer, a sickening smile plastered on her face as she tapped her fingers on her arm. She finally did it, and now, everything would go her way. She turned to her husband who was on his knees as her lover held a gun to his head.

“See? I always get what I want.” she laughed smugly.

Mr Kim silently wept as he watched the broken picture frame a few metres away. It fell when a sudden gust of wind blew and shattered right by him. It was a picture of all of you, smiling and looking so happy. Mr Kim was bloodied and beaten but the pain was nothing to the profound emptiness that opened up inside of him, threatening to swallow him whole. His family was gone. Everything he worked so hard to build and the family he loved and adored was unfairly taken away from him by no one else but the woman he had married. A dark cloud of grief descended on him with a haunted and hollow look glazed over his eyes.

Lila stood in shock by what she just heard. You were all gone but instead of feeling like she won like Mrs Kim, she felt her spirit sinking like a stone in the water. She was appalled by the cruelty she was witnessing.

The pack that held the highest rank in the entire town no longer existed and was taken out by one of their own.

“Now where is my son?” Mrs Kim said gleefully.

The two rogues who brought the information glanced at each other cautiously.

“Well?”

“He’s gone too ma’am. He looked like he was going to protect the girl to the end. So, we decided to just blow up the building with them in it.”

Mrs Kim was dismayed by what she just heard. No… it was only supposed to be the eight of you, not her son. She blinked in confusion as realisation dawned on her. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

“No…NO NO NO!” she shrieked, “You imbeciles. You were supposed to just take out the girl and the other boys. Not my son!”

Mrs Kim was flabbergasted by the sudden turn of events. She needed Hongjoong here, he had to lead with her overlooking him. This wasn’t a part of the plan.

Mr Kim, with as much energy as he could muster, looked at the woman with disdain.

“You…” he growled viciously, “You have not won Estelle. You will pay, you will pay for all that you’ve done. My children will come back, they certainly will, and when they do, they will bring you down and drag you to hell right where you belong. You will just watch as you lose everything that never belonged to you in the first place.”

With the little strength he had, he grabbed the gun from Mrs Kim’s lover and shot him in the shoulders. As her lover retaliated, Mr Kim grabbed a glass shard that was close and sliced the man’s face leaving a scar that would never be forgotten. Mr Kim grabbed the picture of all of you and ran as fast he could, barely escaping the two rogues behind him.

Mrs Kim watched in fury and seethed in anger. She didn’t have another plan and it was only a matter of time before people found out.

“What now?” her lover groaned trying to stop the blood that oozed from his face, “He will pay for that.”

“Forget him for now, we need to leave now.”

“And where are we going to go?”

She looked at him sharply before answering, “The human realm.”

“THIS CAN’T BE HAPPENING!”

As the angel wailed and was comforted by his friend, the Moon Goddess watched with folded arms and a stoic expression.

“Calm down Jungwon.” his friend pacified.

“This can’t be the end for them, Goddess. Please, please don’t let that woman win.” the angel cried.

“It’s not,” the Goddess answered, “Every action has a consequence. The stories of the soulmate groups have not been completed yet. If we leave it, there will be an imbalance.”

“So,” the angel sniffed, “What are you going to do? It’s not the end right?”

Suddenly, a baby’s cry rang through the heavens. The Goddess smiled.

“It’s not the end my dear child, this is only just the beginning.”

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

Taglist:

@eastleighsblog @sehun096rainbow @greensnakeglobep @satsuri3su @zonked-times @sugarrush-blush @lomons @explorewithd @chatsgotmytongue @scarfac3 @popcatx0 @angrynightnight @sannieluvrr @idfkeddieishot @alicia-dpa @park-simphwa @puppyminnnie @mysticfire0435 @sundayysunshine @chngbnwf @dementedaly @thunderous-wolf @itsmeregan @cookiechristie @hyukssunflower @lelaleleb

#ateez x reader #poly ateez x reader #ot8 ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez fluff #poly!ateez #ateez series

149 notes · View notes

hades-in-bloom · 4 months

Text

The Bigger Person

Spawn!Astarion Ancunin x Redeemed Dark Urge!Reader

summary: after saving Baldur’s Gate, Astarion and his partner descend into the Underdark to take care of Cazador’s misdeeds. All seven thousands of them. Was it something the elf truly wanted to do with his freedom?

spoilers for Act 3/Pale Elf and Epilogue

warnings & contents: teethy fluff; established relationship; comfort, sass, and class; hints of existential crisis; the reader could be any gender; mentions of trauma; some hugs; assumed drow or half-drow background of the reader but could be any race

a/n: I am kinda terrified of writing for Astarion as I respect Larian’s work SO MUCH (so Larian, please forgive me, if I ever do this goofy dagger-happy love wrong). This blurb came out of nowhere as I was bored during my long ass flight. As always, proceed at your own risk. Minors DNI! Masterlist xoxo

soundtrack: miley cyrus — used to be young

***

You watched Astarion from afar as elf was basking in the azure light of a Sussur tree. His pale skin glowing, eyes half-lidded—one of, if not the most beautiful sight you’ve seen in your entire life. Radiance of a Sussur flower might have been the closest thing to the sunlight the vampire spawn had now, after the ever-protecting tadpole was gone.

It was barely a couple of weeks since the Netherbrain crushed into the Chionthar. The exhausting journey was finally over. Your thoughts for a moment went to Gale—how was he fairing now, taking into account his condition? And what any of you was supposed to do with your lives now, after saving the world?

You shook off your guessings by and by—only to notice that it was Astarion’s turn to stare at you. His smooth lips curved into a mischievous grin.

“My once murderous little love, what were you daydreaming of?” The man wondered as he stepped towards you, stretching out a hand for you to touch, inviting you to feel the soothing coldness of his forever-young skin. The elf tilted his head a bit, curiously; studying you.

“You seemed… far from here.” Although his tone was lighthearted, you could see concern in the wandering gaze of garnet eyes. After all these weeks traveling—and now living— together, you could read him quite well.

“It’s nothing,” you mumbled before coming to your senses; a gentle, slightly teasing smile appearing on your face. “I was stalking you, actually. You fit quite well with the Underdark, you know.”

Astarion didn’t seem to object your observations.

Obviously.

“Well,” he gestured abstractly, pretending not to care, although he cared quite a bit. “You don’t say, my sweet. Although I'd assume that my features should look aesthetically pleasing in most of the attention worthy places.”

You couldn’t keep a straight face as you laughed, enjoying his lazy attempts to hide a proud smile.

“Behave, Astarion. There are kids in the close vicinity, after all.”

The man changed in the face and let out a soft groan. “Seven thousand of them,” he muttered with slight annoyance in his voice.

Despite grimaces Astarion made regularly, you could see him enjoying it—taking care of the murderous horde of vampire spawns to whom the elf showed mercy in the palace. He was their mentor, their leader now—a counterpart to what Cazador was, the monster that created them all. Now so much better than him.

“I blame you,” Astarion continued in the meantime, playfully pointing a finger in your direction. “That’s all your nasty influence. Be the bigger person, dear!..” he passionately—and painfully accurately—mimicked your tone of voice while saying the last piece. You, though, weren’t offended in the slightest. You liked him even more when he dared to show the silly side of his complex, wounded personality.

You felt his hand crawling around your waist as he huffed next to your ear shortly after. “Why should I be a bigger person, darling, when I can be happy and petty?”

You snorted. “I don’t think you’re holding back on pettiness, love.”

His smile stretched across the skin of your neck in a silent, although eloquent enough reply. None of you said a thing for quite a while, staying motionless close to each other with heads buried deep into your own thoughts.

“Thank you.” You blurted out eventually.

Astarion shifted, looking into your face with his eyebrow raised. He was visibly confused.

“Thank you for choosing this. Choosing them.” you continued as you met his gaze with yours. “Instead of your… freedom.” You struggled to find a better word for that.

Astarion didn’t seem to be convinced; didn’t seem to follow at first. “I’m free,” he replied gravely. “The bastard is dead.”

You shook your head slightly. “You could’ve been anywhere. Doing anything,” you retorted with care. “But you’re here instead.”

His facial features softened as he understood why you were saying what you were saying. There was a pinch of truth in your words—he spent some time thinking about it, too, after you’ve both descended into the Underdark and began building this fort; the safe harbor for Cazador’s cursed—as although perpetually hungry vampire spawns now, these people deserved to have a place to call home, no matter how dangerous or uncivilised per human standards it was.

You heard Astarion letting out a reluctant sigh as he came to terms with his own decision once more.

“This was the right thing to do.” The elf concluded at once.

Mild aversion to his own heroism that manifested itself in his whole appearance in that particular moment made you giggle suddenly.

“My, my. Who thought you'd be up for doing The Right Thing the first time we met.”

The elf gave you a friendly, tad fiendish stare as he rolled his eyes, and you scoffed as he spoke. “Not that you were a paragon of virtuousness back then either, being your daddy’s scion.” You made an unamused face that made him smile.

Astarion reassured you then with playful seriousness, letting his lips and teeth slide affectionately to your neck. “Don’t keep your hopes up, darling. Now my quota of the rightful deeds is fulfilled for the upcoming century.”

You smirked as you locked him into a hug, not believing a single word of what that man just said as you felt him hugging you back.

173 notes · View notes

no-phrogs-in-hats · 5 months

Text

Baby Steps Part 1

Larissa Weems x fem!reader

Summary: Larissa and reader begin their journey to becoming parents

Warnings: Needles, pregnancy, mentions of PCOS (PCOS girlies unite), blood

A/N: Okay, so a lot of you wanted me to write a Larissa x pregnant!reader and I've decided to make this a tiny series. I was gonna make it a tiny continuation of If I Could Turn Back Time, but I forgot in the epilogue that they adopted a student so oh well. Tiny Larissa x reader series! Also I know I could've just had Larissa shapeshift a dick, but I'm not up for writing that.

Also lmk if you wanna be tagged in the next part<3

Read Part 2 here

It was in the dark of your bedroom that you whispered her name, “Larissa?”

“Hm?”

You felt her arms tighten around your waist. “What do you think about…children?”

“Children?” She sat up and leaned over you. “Well, I think I have to like them since I’m the principal of a school.”

You sighed, smiling softly as she pecked you on the lips. “That’s not what I meant. I mean…a…family. What do you think about a–starting a…family…?”

Your heart began to race. It had been on your mind for months and all you were waiting for was the courage to bring up the topic. You were anticipating Larissa’s reaction, every scenario in your head ending with the phrase, “Maybe we should get a divorce.”

But, instead, when she laid back down behind you and pulled you into her embrace, she placed a kiss on your neck and smiled. “I would love nothing more, my darling.”

Larissa held your hand as you sat on the table at the doctors office. The sterile white paper underneath you crinkled with every move you made.

“The doctor should be in shortly,” the scribe said, smiling before tossing her gloves out and leaving the room.

Your eyes wandered the room, noting the diagrams and pieces of maternity art that hung on the beige walls. You giggled as you watched Larissa blow into a latex glove before letting it go and watching it fly around the room. You sobered up immediately when a soft knock on the door was heard.

“Hi!” The door opened and a short woman with frizzy hair walked in. “I’m Dr. Curan. It’s lovely to meet you.” She took a seat on the rolling stool in front of the computer, opening your file on it and skimming through it. “So, I see that you’re here for an evaluation.”

“Yeah, we’ve decided to, uhh…start a family. But, as you can see,” you said, gesturing between yourself and Larissa, “we kind of need help with that.”

The doctor smiled. “Well I can help you with that. Were you thinking in vitro? Intrauterine?”

“Intrauterine,” you answer. “Of course, though, in vitro is okay if it’s necessary.”

“Okay! So, the first thing we’re gonna have to do for intrauterine–or artificial insemination, whichever one you wanna call it–is a fertility test.” Dr. Curan looked over your chart once again. “I can see in your chart here that you do have PCOS, so that can affect your fertility. Other than that, you’re healthy and you’re young, so my hopes are high for this.”

“And what does the test consist of?” you heard Larissa ask.

“Part of it will be a blood test,” the doctor said. “This one will measure two hormone levels. The first is the follicle-stimulating hormone. Its main job is to control the growth of eggs in your ovaries. And the second hormone is anti-mullerian. It’s produced by the follicles themselves and the more anti-mullerian you have, the more eggs you’re probably going to have.”

“And the other part?” you asked.

“The other part will be the antral follicle count,” Dr. Curan explained. “It’ll be performed by a transvaginal ultrasound. Basically, we’ll count how many follicles are in your ovaries. And, after that, we’ll go over the treatment plan.”

Waiting for the sonographer, you laid on your back with your feet in stirrups. You watched as Larissa, with arms folded in front of her, looked closely at a framed poster with fun facts about the female anatomy.

“Did you know this?” she gawked. “Prehistoric females had an average of fifty periods in their lifetime! And the average woman will use 11,000 tampons in her life! That’s bonkers!” She looked back at you, meeting your surprised look before turning back around to continue reading. “Oh, look at this! A contraction can give a force that equates to roughly 1,938 kilograms of pressure! That’s 4,272 pounds! Women’s breasts can grow up to three cup sizes while pregnant! Their blood volume increases by fifty percent and their heart can grow bigger because of that! This is incredible! I can’t believe I never knew some of these!”

“Larissa,” you huff, “you need to stop reading these off to me, otherwise I’ll schedule a tubal ligation instead of an intrauterine insemination.”

She pursed her lips and smiled at you before walking over and taking your hand. Larissa leaned down and placed a kiss on your lips, “Oh, you’ll be fine, darling.”

Standing at the sink, you watched out the window as your hands worked idly, scrubbing away at dirty pots and pans. You were lost in your thoughts when you felt a presence behind you. Arms wrapped around your waist and you gasped as hands slid to your hips and lips skimmed over your neck.

Low groans from Larissa vibrated over your throat as she kissed and nipped at the exposed skin. “It’s seven o’clock. Maybe you should put a hold on the dishes.”

“Maybe you should be patient,” you retorted. “A few more minutes won’t make a difference.”

Larissa hummed, “Talking back? You know, Christmas is coming up next month. I’d hate for you to end up on the naughty list…”

“Have any punishments in mind?” you quipped.

You could feel her heavy breath on your neck as her hands wandered more. Down to your ass, up to your waist, over to your breast. “So, so many,” she murmured into your ear.

You could feel one of her hands keep you steady as the other one retreated from your body. They returned shortly and one of them pulled your shirt up over your belly. “And–Ow!”

A sharp pain in your lower abdomen caused you to jolt, and after five seconds Larissa stepped away. You glared at her as she giggled to herself and recapped the needle on the pen. She pressed a kiss to your cheek, “Just think about our future child. When you’re done here, I’ll be in the bedroom…waiting for you.”

Later that night, beneath the warm comforter and cold air, your naked bodies, slick with sweat, were locked in a tight embrace.

“Maybe we could ask Vlad,” you giggled.

Larissa laughed and tightened her arms around your waist, pulling you closer. “Vlad? Really?”

“Mhm,” you joked. “He’s good looking. He’s athletic. He’s European. He’s the whole package, Larissa.”

“How about we choose someone from the donor list,” Larissa suggested.

You sighed, “Fine. As long as they’re attractive. I don’t want an ugly kid.”

“You are ridiculous.”

Your leg bounced up and down as you sat with Larissa in the waiting room.

“What if it’s negative?” you ramble. “What if we’ve done all of this stuff for nothing?”

Larissa’s hand went to your knee, squeezing it lightly to calm your fidgeting. “Then we’ll do it again if you want. Darling, you’re young. You’re healthy. We have plenty of time. And if you no longer want to do it, there are other options.”

When your name was called, Larissa took your hand and walked with you into the room. She sat beside you as you had your blood drawn, talking about names and if the baby would have powers like you, what color to paint the nursery and if you should start looking for a bigger house.

The phlebotomist stood up after bandaging your arm. “Alright, whenever you’re ready, you’re all set. Let me know if you feel dizzy or lightheaded and I’ll get you some juice. It’s a Friday, so you should expect the results in your chart on Monday or Tuesday, and if you haven’t by Wednesday, feel free to give us a call.”

Monday morning, your heart was racing. Your anxieties would be cured sometime that day–to be replaced with elation or disappointment. When? You didn’t know. And you hated it. The entire day moved at a snail’s pace. You could hardly focus while teaching and kept checking your phone every time it buzzed. This happened so many times, in fact, that you had to silence it altogether.

At lunch, you checked your phone again, but to no avail. It was during the last class of the day that you were sitting at your desk and grading papers while the students had free time that the buzz of your phone made you almost sick with anticipation.

New message: ‘Hello! You have one (1) new test result waiting in your chart. Questions? Call (802)44…’

You thought the bell would never ring. However, when it did, and your students flooded out of the room, you followed suit with your phone in hand. Rushing up the stairs, you had made it to Larissa’s office in record timing. You knocked quietly on the door and when you heard a faint voice beckoning you to enter, you did.

“How was your day?” Larissa smiled as she put away files in a desk drawer .

“Long,” you sighed, giving her a peck on the lips before sitting down. “But, I got an interesting message…The test results are available.”

Larissa froze. “What are you doing? Open it!”

“But, what if it’s negative?” you said.

She took your hand in hers, eyes softening and her voice lowering. “My darling, if it’s negative, it isn’t the end of the world. Like I said a couple weeks ago, this isn’t our only option.”

“Right…” You took a deep breath and sighed. “Well, here we go.”

You unlocked your phone and opened your online patient portal. The words at the top of the screen make your insides turn.

One (1) new test result!

You tapped on them.

Lab results - Blood

Pregnancy

Result:

Positive

#gwendoline christie #larissa weems #larissa weems x reader #fanfic #fluff

195 notes · View notes

polyamzeal · 8 months

Note

got any polyam book recs

How many time do I need to reccomend the Smart Girl's Guide To Polyamory by Dedecker Winston! I feel like I never shut up about it and still people have never heard of it! I am just going to create a quick list of all the polyam books I have read. Because when I was first learning about polyamory it felt like you were required to read certain books before you could get your polyamory license yet so many other people haven't read any books! One day I might write out longer reviews for these.

The Ethical Slut: A Practical Guide to Polyamory, Open Relationships & Other Adventures by Dossie Easton and Janet W. Hardy- This is one of the first ever books focused on polyamory. As such it is a bit dated. Despite that I think it is still a good book that people can get a lot out of. Just keep its age in mind.

More Than Two: A Practical Guide to Ethical Polyamory by Franklin Veaux and Eve Rickert - When I started learning about polyamory this was the holy bible of polyamory that everyone insisted that everybody must read. I honestly liked The Ethical Slut better though. Since then though the book has been utterly condemned by the community and people are now very quick to scream how nobody should read this book because Franklin Veaux was revealed to be abusive in his relationships so now suddenly the book is a guide to teach people how to be abusive in relationships. I guess??? Eve Ricket has put out multiple statements about the book about if people should still read it or not but I am sure I will miss something if I dive into that. Like more The Ethical Slut, just keep in mind it might have some problematic aspects. But I personally think there is still some good stuff in it that people might find value in. It has been a while since I read it but I don't remember it being problematic, just a bit dry and boring.

The Smart Girl's Guide To Polyamory by Dedecker Winston - I'm skipping right to this to say this is my favorite polyamory book! It is very unfortunate that that the title isn't great. And indeed it is written to be aimed at women but honestly I found very very little in the book to feel exclusive to women and not apply to me (a cis-male) just as much. I love this book so much that I re-typed up a passage from it, had it printed on a large poster, and framed.

Sex At Dawn: How We Mate, Why We Stray, and What It Means for Modern Relationships by Christopher Ryan and Cacilda Jetha - This is another book that used to be worshipped in polyamory circles and wholehearted reccomended. I am so glad that it is now mostly forgotten. Why? BECAUSE THIS IS NOT A POLYAMORY BOOK! This is a very scientific anti-monogamy book. So I was waiting for all this set-up to talk about why polyamory fixes all these problems of monogamy it has taken so long to explain. Spoilers! Polyamory is only briefly mentioned in the epilogue of the book in a half-hearted, "Maybe this solution works for some people". Let's be clear, this is not a bad book. It is a very good book at using scientific evidence to point out flaws with monogamy and can lead to interesting discussion. But it is not a polyamroy book and shouldn't be recommended as such.

Love's Not Color Blind: Race and Representation in Polyamorous and Other Alternative Communities by Kevin Patterson - Another great book that is highly underrated. But note this is not a Polyamory 101 book. I consider this a "next-level" polyamory book. And to be clear I am white/Caucasian and I learned so much from this book and really love it! It opened my eyes in so many ways.

The Polyamorists Next Door: Inside Multiple-Partner Relationships and Families by Elisabeth Sheff - This isn't a bad book but I also didn't really find it to be a good book either. It feels neither pro-polyamory or anti-polyamory. Just a whole lot of stories and facts. I think it might be most interesting for a monogamous person to read.

Polyamory by Marissa Blake - Worst book I have ever listened to and I am pretty sure it is plagiarized. Been meaning to do a project where I research that claim but just haven't been interested in doing so. it is utter garbage.

The Polyamory Breakup Book: Causes, Prevention, and Survival by Kathy Labriola - Another advanced level polyamory book. But I think an especially important one for everyone to read. When you date more people you have more breakups. And when "cheating" is far less of an issue it is becomes hard to understand when you should breakup.

Polysecure: Attachment, Trauma and Consensual Nonmonogamy by Jessica Fern - The new holy bible of polyamory that everybody in every polyamory group will recommend immediately. It is a good book but honestly I think it is overrated. I think it is aimed at a very certain kind of person struggling with polyamory but it didn't resonate a whole lot with me on a polyamory level. I thought Secure Attachment was very interesting but I felt the actual polyamory aspects of the book were a little lacking to me. I do recommend the book but maybe not as someone's first polyamroy book. I think there are better polyamory 101 books. To note I have not read Polywise yet, the authors sequel book that just came out. I think I have higher hopes for that one though.

Ready For Polyamory by Laura Boyle - Most recent book I read and I had wanted to write a full review but I forgot. This is a fairly good book. I feel like it doesn't stand out much from the other Polyamory 101 books but overall solid. The one place where I give it the most praise is it has the most up-to-date definitions of terms which over the years have evolved and changed over time. The spectrum of polyamory styles I think is especially important for people to read. Older books didn't mention this at all or it was only Parelle VS Kitchen Table. Now we have a much wider spectrum and I often see a common mistake for newbies is for 2 partners to be at different point of the spectrum and never acknowledging it.

Do you know of any polyamory books I missed that I should read? Please let me know!

#polyamory #polyam #nonmonogamy #Books #Reccomendations #Book Reviews #Book

176 notes · View notes

elizabethwritesmen · 7 months

Text

Notice - Part 4

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Curvy!Reader

Warnings: Smut 18+, Mature Themes, Self deprecation on both sides, Body image issues, Self hatred, Angst (That's basically all this chapter is sorry love you guys), Slow burn, Mutual Pining

Summary: Dean is gone. Until he's not.

Word Count:

AN: Hey guys! I'm so sorry it took so long for me to put this out. This past (almost) year has been ridiculous, and I haven't had much time to even think about writing. But I'm back at it now with lots of fresh ideas and chapters! And I snuck in a little something as an official apology (;.

The next chapter will be the last, and I might do a short epilogue.

Thanks so much for the continued support and enjoy!

╔══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══╗

She pined after Dean left, just as she knew she would.

Every time she saw a man that looked like him at a bar, or a store, or anywhere, she fought the urge to say something. She knew deep down, though, that if Dean ever came back, she's the first person that would find out. He would knock on her door and let her know how long he was staying for, and maybe he would even spare her a kiss this time before disappearing.

She waited for that knock. A month passed and she waited, then two, then three. Eventually she grew cynical, her inner demons possessing her and her insecurities winning.

"Come on, Y/N. Please. If you want to wait forever for that guy to come back, more power to you, but can you at least rejoin the human race in the mean time?" Evelyn asked, her voice heavy through the phone speaker.

"I don't know, Evvy. I don't really like the whole bar scene anyway, I never have fun like you guys do."

"Yes, we've been over this. Ashley and I have tons of men all over us and you never have anybody. Did you ever stop to think that maybe that has nothing to do with how you look? Seriously, Y/N. You're hot. But you're quiet, and reserved, and you hang out in corners and read or peel labels off bottles. It's intimidating and off putting. What you need is to come out with us tonight and let your hair down! Have a good time!"

"I like corners and books and peeling labels," Y/N huffed.

"I know you do, but why don't you just take a break from the norm? You might have a good time, and it'll get your mind off of Dean."

The mention of his name was enough to make her second guess her decision. She did want to forget about him, at least for the night. She wanted to remember what it felt like to be human.

"Okay, fine. But you're driving. Come get me."

Evelyn cheered on the other line and hung up, leaving Y/N to wonder if she'd made the right decision. She shrugged off her doubt and wandered to her closet, picking through clothes until she found an outfit she was happy with.

An hour later, there was a knock on her door. Evelyn and Ashley stood on the other side, both with giddy smiles plastered onto their faces.

"Stop looking at me like that," Y/N furrowed her brows, letting them in and shutting the door behind them.

"Like what?"

"All smiley and weird. You look like the doodle bops. You're creeping me out."

The girls giggled, and Ashley explained, "We're just so happy to see you. It's been so long! It's like you forgot that we're all best friends."

"It hasn't been that long. Besides, I'm sure you guys have more fun without me, I am the lame one."

Evelyn huffed, "No you're not. You're like the coolest of all three of us. You're the funniest, and the smartest. It's not the same without you. We don't even really go out much anymore since you stopped coming with us."

"It's true," Ashley nodded, "You make us whole. I'm glad to have you back."

Y/N was taken aback. She always thought she was extra. She never realized how much she mattered to them.

"And by the way," Evenlyn raised her brows and blatantly checked her out, "You look hot."

Y/N blushed, smoothing out her yellow mini dress. Her white heels complimented it perfectly, and she paired the outfit with assorted gold jewelry and curled hair.

They walked into the bar, and Y/N let out a sigh when she noticed how packed it was.

"There are so many people here," she cringed.

"And you're about to flirt with one of them!" Ashley exclaimed, much to her dismay.

"I don't think she's gonna have to make the first move, either, with that dress on," Evelyn smirked.

They found a booth and Y/N volunteered to go to the bar and order them all drinks. Three beers.

"I love a girl in a good sundress," a voice came from behind her. She turned around to see a man, tall and handsome, but not quite Dean.

"Oh," she awkwardly spoke, "Thank you?"

"You're welcome," he laughed, "Why don't you let me buy you a drink?"

"I already ordered one, but thanks."

"Okay, then why don't you hang out with me while until you finish it and I'll buy your next one?"

He was persistent, she had to give him that.

"Okay," she sighed, figuring she had nothing to lose. At least it would be a short-lived distraction.

"Here you go, ma'am," the bartender handed her three bottles.

"Thanks," she smiled, grabbing them and turning to the man she'd been talking to, "I'll be right back."

She brought Evelyn and Ashley the beer and told them about him.

"Go for it, girl! He's been staring at you since we walked in, he totally wants some," Ashley spurred her on.

"Yeah, but I don't want some," she frowned.

"Okay, but he doesn't know that yet, so there's no harm in flirting. Just something to get over Dean and boost your self confidence," Evelyn inputted.

Y/N let out yet another exasperated sigh and silently agreed, walking back over to the man.

"There you are, hot stuff!" he smiled at her, all teeth.

"Yeah, sorry, I just had to bring my friends their drinks."

"No problem at all, sweetness, I knew you'd come back for more."

Internally, she was cringing. This dude was disgustingly cocky. He looked like a former frat boy who peaked in college.

They talked for a while, but she really wasn't interested at all. Even a conversation with him was a chore, and her energy levels weren't high enough to inflate his ego further.

"Listen, Jordan, I'm gonna go back to my friends but it was nice to meet you," she interrupted him in the middle of his sentence, not caring what he had to say.

"Excuse me?" his confusion showed all over his face.

"Yeah, I'm sorry, I'd just rather be hanging out with them. There are a lot of other girls here you could talk to," she smiled politely, ejecting herself by turning away from him.

He grabbed her arm and pulled her back into him, growling through gritted teeth, "But I'm talking to you. You know, you big girls are good in bed but you're really all fucking bitches."

She tried to yank herself away from him, but it was to no avail. She yelled, "Let go of me!" He didn't listen, holding tighter and reaching down to her ass, giving it a squeeze.

"It's ok, hot stuff, I can take care of that. This ass needs me behind it, huh? Get rid of your attitude real quick."

She didn't even have time to respond, or spit on him, or punch him, or whatever else she planned to do because she was ripped from his grasp. It was a whirlwind, and she felt like she was spinning, but when she grounded herself, she was behind a solid wall of leather.

She recognized him by his smell alone. It was Dean. Her Dean.

"She told you to let her god damn go," he deadpanned, his voice low and deadly.

"Who the fuck are you, her dad? Get the fuck out of here, she's just some whore," Jordan huffed.

That was all it took for Dean to swing, sharp and quick, his fist landing square in the center of the other man's face. Jordan's nose instantly started leaking blood behind the hand he'd put over it.

"She is not a whore. She just doesn't fucking want you, asshole."

He grabbed her hand and lead her out of the bar before the owner even had a chance to kick them out. Evelyn and Ashley followed closely behind.

"Are you okay, Y/N?" Evelyn asked, concern written on her face like a book.

"I am," the girl meekly assured, rubbing her arm where the creep had grabbed her.

"Um," Ashley started, glancing between Y/N and Dean pointedly, "We're gonna go. We'll call you later to check on you."

"Yeah," Evelyn agreed, sensing the mood. She turned to Dean as they walked to her car, "Get her home safe."

"Always," he promised, waving goodbye to the girls and turning to his favorite. "What the hell were you doing, talking to a guy like that, sweetheart?"

"I..." she stuttered. She didn't want to lay all her cards out on the table just yet. "I don't know. I liked him."

Dean cocked a brow, "Him? Really? See, I just don't believe that."

She rolled her eyes and stomped her foot petulantly, "I thought it would be a distraction, Dean."

"From what?" he asked, as if he really didn't know. Her eyes averted to the ground and she pursed her lips awkwardly. That told him everything. "From me?"

"I think about you more than I should. I just knew you would come back, so I've been waiting for you, but I didn't know when, so I wanted a distraction."

"How many distractions have you looked for?"

"He was the first one. And I didn't plan to sleep with him or anything. I just thought the conversation would be good for me. Turns out it wasn't."

"Well you don't have to answer to me, sweetheart. But you should know, I've been thinking about you, too."

"Really?"

"I've been trying to get back. It's just been impossible. We've been so busy with hunt after hunt, and there haven't been any here."

"If there's not a hunt here, then why are you here?"

"There was an easy one close to home. I sent Sam on it alone for a couple days and I drove here."

Her eyes met his, and she saw how worn down he was. The innocence in his eyes was dwindling every day. Her heart ached for him, wishing she could lighten the load. Wishing she could take some of it away for him.

"Take me home," she demanded, her voice sweeter than her words. He nodded, leading her to the impala and opening the passenger side door for her.

The car ride was silent. As was the walk up to her apartment. Neither of them knew what to say. All of the feelings from before were still there, in fact they were stronger than they'd been the first time.

They stood awkwardly at her door for a moment, and she cleared her throat to ease it, "You can stay here tonight, Dean. You don't have to find a cheap motel."

"I actually already have one. But I'd still rather stay here, if you're sure it's okay."

She let him in and he sat on her couch as she walked to her bedroom to change. She threw on a tank top and a pair of spandex shorts, rushing back to his side. She didn't want to be away from him for too long. Really, she didn't want to waste a moment of the time she had with him.

"How long are you here for?" she asked.

"Until tomorrow afternoon."

She couldn't stop the sorrow from creeping into her smile, "Well at least we have a little bit of time."

"I need more with you."

"I know," she sighed, "But this will do. Are you hungry? I'm gonna make something to eat."

"I'll help you," he offered, following her into the kitchen.

They threw together some burgers and fries, and she handed him the remote, instructing him to find a movie. He did, The Untouchables, mumbling something about it being his favorite of all time.

Before they knew it, they were sitting next to each other on the couch, plates empty and discarded, movie almost over.

"You were right. The movie was good," she mused as the credits began to roll.

"I’m always right,” he smirked, turning the TV off and carrying the plates to the kitchen, washing them before she could protest.

A loud yawn burst from her lips as she joined him, placing the newly clean plates in her cabinet.

“You should get some sleep, sweetheart. I’ll still be here in the morning,” he told her.

“I’m not ready to go to bed yet, I don’t want to let you out of my sight,” she whined in protest.

He chuckled, pulling her into his chest and squeezing. She took the moment to breathe him in,

“Hey Dean, why’d you go to the bar when you got to town instead of to my apartment?” she’d been wondering for hours but hadn’t had the chance to ask yet. Finally, she said fuck it and went for it.

“I came here first. You weren’t home, and it’s a Saturday night. I figured the bar was a good place to start looking for you.”

Her heart warmed, swelling in her chest.

“Let’s just have a living room sleepover and watch movies til we fall asleep,” she suggested, pulling just far enough away to look at him.

“Or, and feel free to say no or slap me or whatever you think is appropriate, I could sleep with you tonight? We don’t have to do anything. I just want to be next to you.”

And he meant it. He’d never been so eager to simply sleep in the company of a woman in his life. He wanted more, sure, but he was fine with just holding her. She was warm, and she smelled of vanilla and strawberries. She was comfort and she felt like he’d found a home. Hunting didn’t really allow him one of those, so he savored her.

“Come on,” her voice was barely over a whisper as she pulled him by his hand to her room.

He had to fight the urge to inhale as he walked in. Her scent was so heavy in the room he could wrap up in it like a blanket. He felt like he was becoming addicted, and he dreaded leaving the next day. She was just as perfect, if not more so, than he remembered, and he didn’t understand how she came so easily to him when nobody else ever had.

“You’re welcome to shower before you go to sleep. I have some extra boxers that I think might fit you,” she hummed as she flitted about, cleaning up as much as she could. She wasn’t expecting him, and her stomach was in knots, butterflies fluttering in there like she’d never felt.

“Why do you have boxers laying around?” he asked, brows furrowed, a twinge of jealousy tainting his voice.

“Evelyn stayed over a few months ago with her ex boyfriend and they forgot to bring his boxers, so they went to the store and got some. He only used one pair out of the pack, the other two are still in there. I’m pretty sure he left a T shirt too, but I’d have to look for it,” she explained. She felt empowered by his slight jealousy; it made her feel wanted.

“Just the boxers will do,” he smiled, and she reached into one of her dresser drawers to fish the package out for him.

He went to shower and while he was gone, her nerves got the best of her. She paced, almost frantic, heart beating out of her chest. What if he made a move? What if he didn’t make a move? She hadn’t become less insecure since he’d last been there, and she worried about whether or not he even liked her. Maybe it was just a friendship thing for him. Maybe it was a pity thing. Maybe he didn’t want to see her at all, and just stumbled into her at the bar by accident.

“You okay, sweetheart?” he asked, drawing her out of her panicked state. She stood frozen when she laid eyes on him, his hair wet and his chest bare. The boxers fit perfectly and her eyes widened when she noticed what they were hiding. It was…. intimidating, to say the least.

“Yes!” she squeaked out, jumping under the covers, willing the flush to leave her cheeks.

He climbed in beside her as she turned on her bedroom TV, putting on an old movie and turning the volume down for background noise.

“I can go to the couch if you’re uncomfortable,” he offered. His concern for her was evident.

“I’m not,” she said, all too quickly. “I just… I can’t believe you came back. Why did you come back?”

He sighed, heavy and thoughtful, “You’re all I’ve thought about since I met you. I talk about you all the time. I didn’t send Sammy on that hunt alone, he went without telling me and called me on the way. Told me to drive here and see you before he goes crazy.”

“Why are you so interested in me?”

“I guess for the same reason you’re so interested in me. It’s not something I can explain. It’s just something I feel.”

“Yeah,” she paused, “Tonight is the first night I’ve gone out since you left. I’ve been waiting for a knock at my door like an idiot. You’ve.. you’ve vexed me.”

“You vexed me first.”

She met his eyes, startled by how close he was to her.

“Close your eyes,” he whispered.

“Why?”

“Trust me. Close your eyes.”

She did as he asked. She hoped he’d kiss her, but she was only half expecting him to, doubt gnawing at her like a dog with a bone.

It let go of her, though, the second his lips met hers.

It was the kind of kiss a girl doesn’t forget. Heavy, and soft, and passionate, and desperate. And sweet. So sweet. His taste was burned into her memory and if she was ruined before, she was much worse for wear now.

He slipped his arms around her and pulled her into his chest, embracing her like he’d wanted to since the moment they met. She whined, needy and pliant, and he had to fight the urge to groan. He’d never felt want like he did with her. She made him feel like he could do anything.

She arched her back into him, wanting to be closer. She thought she’d die without more of him right that second. His bare skin taunted her, warm and hard and inviting. Her nipples hardened through her thin tank top, pushing against him, creating the most beautiful friction. She couldn’t hold back her moan when his tongue brushed against hers, and her leg found it’s way over his hip, her core meeting his in a fit of need.

The groan he’d been saving came out full force, his hand sliding over the curve of her ass, pulling her closer, wanting…. wanting…. wanting. Only then did the kiss slow, coming to a sweet and breathless end.

“Maybe we should wait,” he suggested.

“Did I do something wrong?” she asked.

“I’d rather work for you, sweetheart. I don’t want this to be something you regret. I want it to be perfect, like you deserve. And I just don’t think I deserve you quite yet.”

“Dean..” she breathed out, unsure of what to say. He was so… careful with her. It turned her into a puddle. “We can wait. But you deserve everything.”

“You are everything.”

╚══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══╝

Tag List: @stoneyggirl2 @winchestergypsy90 @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog @deansbbyx @siospins2 @gatorgal94 @classyunknownlover @jbcalway @djs8891 @mishapocalyse @justrealizedimmascifygurl @ellie-andthemachine @sassy-pelican @tmb510 @superwholockisdabest

#dean winchester smut #dean x reader #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader

55 notes · View notes

sweeter-innocence-fics · 1 year

Text

My Sweetest Downfall - Chapter Two

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Work Summary:

Eddie’s back from the Upside Down, but things aren’t exactly how he left them. Hawkins is in pieces, his friends are scattered and the love of his life is… pregnant?

Eddie Munson x Harrington!Reader

Chapters: Prologue 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 Epilogue

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 3394

Read on AO3.

Masterlists.

Taglist: @mrs-kai-anderson @ang3l1te @missryerye @eddiesgirlforever @harrys-tittie

Taglist info

Previous Chapter

Notes:

I don't think I mentioned this before but I'm never going to specify whether reader is full/half/adopted siblings with Steve, so she can be of any race/ethnicity. I'll try my best to be inclusive/vague in my descriptions.

Starting this week, I'm going to be updating this fic weekly (every Monday).

Warnings for shitty parents, pregnancy, vomiting (a lot), grief, depression, reader being kinda mean to steve even tho he's a good boy, reader not taking care of her hair (or herself generally), bad relationship with food, nested flashbacks

---

~ FOUR MONTHS EARLIER ~

A sharp tapping on your bedroom door roused you from sleep. You sat up suddenly, dazed and confused. Your bed was cold. You grimaced.

In the time since you’d learnt about Hawkins’ dark underside, you had gotten used to the nightmares. You could handle them. What you weren’t prepared for were the other kind of dreams.

When you slept, Eddie was alive. He would lounge beside you in your bed, drawing long forgotten laughter from deep inside you. He would hold you, kiss you, tell you that he adored you. Touch you in ways that you never wanted anyone else to touch you.

Awake, you felt hollow.

When Steve called your name through the door, you tried to say, “come in,” as naturally as possible, but your throat was tight.

He opened the door, a dishtowel slung over his shoulder. “Hey. How are you feeling this morning?”

Now that was a question. How were you feeling this morning?

You took a quick inventory: your throat hurt; your eyes were crusty and sore from crying; you hadn’t showered in days so you felt sweaty and gross.

“I’m okay,” you said, and Steve frowned.

“I thought I could make pancakes?” he suggested. Admittedly, pancakes did sound good. “Why don’t you have a shower and I’ll make breakfast, and then we can go for a walk?”

You tried not to groan. Steve had been doing this since your parents left. You knew he was only doing it because he cared, but right now you bristled against even the gentlest suggestion that you should eat, or bathe, or exercise. You knew that Steve wasn’t judging you – you knew that – but hearing the words out loud still hurt.

But he was just trying to help you. You bit back your harsh response and nodded instead.

“I’ll be down in ten minutes.”

A smile broke across his face. “Great!” he said, as if the thought of you doing the bare minimum was actually impressive.

You hated all of this. Steve was treating you like you were made of glass. The two of you had always good-naturedly bickered at each other, poking and prodding and making sarcastic jabs, and now the only mode he seemed capable of was gentle, earnest compassion. It sucked.

Still, you kept your thoughts to yourself as you went into your bathroom and turned on the shower. It was a quick wash, dragging soap over your body and continuing to ignore the growing problem of your hair. When you were done, you brushed your teeth quickly and then dressed in clean(ish) sweatpants and a t-shirt.

You put your hair up and out of the way, and then covered it with your hood, trying not to think about it.

Steve was just plating up the pancakes when you made it down into the kitchen. He gave you a weak smile, which you returned even weaker.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“Fine.”

“Right.” Steve took that as his cue to not ask any more stupid questions.

Staring down at your plate of pancakes, you felt suddenly ravenous. You hadn’t been eating well. As you tucked in, you could feel Steve’s eyes on you.

You cleared your throat. “You’ve got work later, right?”

“Yeah, but not until this afternoon. Plenty of time to hang out.”

He didn’t ask you if you would be okay alone in the house. Not since you’d snapped at him for treating you like a broken doll. Steve didn’t deserve that. He was trying, and you weren’t. So you decided to offer him an olive branch.

“It’ll be nice to get out of the house,” you said, as breezily as you could. Steve’s eyes widened, but a broad smile soon followed. You looked back down at your pancakes.

Hawkins being Hawkins, nature walks weren’t advisable, but when Steve suggested driving into town to walk around the mall, you shot him down. You really didn’t want to be anywhere where you might run into people.

So the two of you set off on foot, hiking along the edge of the woods, never straying more than 20 feet from the road. You both knew what dangers lurked in the darkness.

As much as you hated to admit it, Steve had been right about walking making you feel better. The fresh air cut into your lungs, an ache blooming in your chest. It was better than feeling numb.

Steve cleared his throat. “I was thinking that we could do a movie night some time soon. We could invite Robin.”

“Sure,” you said, non-committally.

“Or something with the kids. It’d be nice to all get together in one place again.”

All. You grimaced at the use of the word. There were some people who were never coming back, no matter how much you wished it.

Barb. Benny. Bob Newby. Chrissy Cunningham. Even Billy, for all his faults. Not that you would ever have invited him to your house.

And of course, there was Eddie. You would never get to have a movie night with him again. He’d never crawl through your bedroom window and fall asleep by your side. You would never get to kiss him again.

You stopped in your tracks, throwing your arms out to try and keep your balance.

“What is- Oh my god.” Steve jumped back as you vomited all over the patch of earth in front of you. You swayed on your feet, so he scooted around the splash zone to get to your side and put an arm around you. “Are you alright?”

You shook your head, and then bent forward to hurl again. Steve clutched at your jacket, trying not to let you fall.

You found yourself reminded of something that happened when you were a child. Your parents had been more present then than they were now, although that was a low bar. Your general needs were taken care of by nannies more often than not, but on this occasion, your parents were taking you and Steve on vacation.

It was a long drive down to the lake house, and at six years old, your feet didn’t touch the floor when you were sitting in the back of the car.

“Mommy?” you called out to her, but she was leaning on her neck pillow, sunglasses hiding the fact that she was asleep. “Mommy!”

“Keep it down,” your dad snapped, “I don’t wanna hear your whining.” You shrank back into yourself, crossing your arms over your chest.

“What’s wrong?” Steve whispered to you. He had been staring out of the window until you’d spoken, but now his focus was on you.

“Feel sick.”

He pulled a bottle of water from his door, cracked the lid open and then handed it to you. You took a big gulp, but the water was unpleasantly warm, so you pushed it back towards him.

He must’ve seen the expression on your face, because he said, “Dad? Can we pull over? I think she’s gonna be sick.”

“We’re not gonna make it there before sunset if we keep having to stop for you damn kids. Now shut the hell up.”

“It’s gonna be okay,” Steve whispered to you. He took your hand in his pressed his fingers against your wrist. “My teacher showed me a place where you can press to make you feel less sick.” As his clumsy, eight-year-old fingers fumbled to find the pressure point, you gripped the seat suddenly.

“Dad-” you tried to say, but before you could say anything else, you threw up all over yourself.

“Dad, she’s been sick.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he muttered, readjusting his rear-view mirror to get a look at you, and then let out a deep sigh. “We’ll stop at the next rest-stop.”

Hot tears pricked at your eyes. Embarrassed, you sniffed, trying to keep them in, but to no avail.

“Hey,” Steve murmured. “It’s okay. It’s gonna be okay. We’ll get you all cleaned up and you’ll feel so much better.” You nodded weakly.

The next rest-stop, as it turned out, was very sparse, with only a restroom and a few benches. Your dad got out of the car and opened your door before you’d even had the chance to undo your seatbelt.

“You little shit,” he hissed. “You got it all over the upholstery. Do you know how much this cost?”

Bewildered, you stared back at him. “I don’t know, daddy.”

“Get out of the car.”

“What’s going on?” said your mom sleepily. She had evidently taken her sleeping pills for the drive.

“Get up,” he said to her. “You need to clean this up. Your daughter vomited all over it.”

“Why do I need to clean it up? She’s your daughter too and it’s your car.”

“I’m gonna take her to go get cleaned up,” Steve announced loudly. He helped you out of the car, snagged your backpack from the trunk and then took your hand. Your parents were still sniping at each other behind you as you walked away.

“Mom and dad are fighting because of me,” you said as he ushered you into the bathroom. There was only one stall, so you hoped no one came along and needed to use it.

“It’s not your fault.”

“Are they going to get a divorce?”

“No, sweetpea.” That comforted you a little.

With Steve’s help, you removed your soiled cardigan and t-shirt. He dropped them both into the sink to rinse them, and then wet some tissues for you so that you could wipe yourself down.

Ten minutes later, you were dressed in a clean t-shirt and sweater, and your dirty clothes were rinsed and shoved into a plastic bag. Steve got you a cold water from the vending machine, and the two of you sat in the sun on one of the benches while your mom cleaned up your seat in the car.

The memory made your heart hurt. The more things changed, the more they stayed the same.

Now, Steve was ushering you back to the house, one hand on your shoulder to keep you steady. At least this time you hadn’t got any on your clothes. This time, though, throwing up didn’t make you feel any less sick. If anything, you felt worse.

As soon as you were through the front door, you sprinted to the downstairs bathroom and bent over the toilet, hurling up the contents of your stomach. Your knees trembled, and you sank down into a kneeling position. You could hear the creaking of floorboards outside the door, as if Steve wasn’t sure if he should come in or not.

After a moment, his footsteps retreated. Fine. Good. You had wanted to deal with this alone anyway.

But he didn’t leave you to deal with this alone. Thirty seconds later, the bathroom door swung open and he placed a bottle of water on the floor beside you.

“Hey…” He rubbed your back soothingly. Another surge of vomit had you blinking tears out of your eyes.

Without warning, Steve pulled back your hood, probably to get your hair out of the way. You flinched.

He said your name softly, and his pitying tone convinced you that he had noticed the state your hair was in. You screwed your eyes shut and threw up again.

It took a few minutes, but eventually the vomiting subsided. It had left you sweaty and cold, with a horrible taste on your mouth. You opened the bottle of water and drank some down, trying to get rid of the burning acidity in your chest.

As you got shakily to your feet, you found that Steve was still watching you. He had a sympathetic look on his face that made you want to punch him. How dare he feel sorry for you, after everything you’d been through.

You balled up your fists, your face hot with shame.

“Hey…” he said, wincing. “Please let me help you. I want to help you.”

Reluctantly, you let him.

If there was one thing Steve knew, it was hair. At his behest, you took your second shower of the day, this time taking your time to properly shampoo and condition your hair. When you exited the bathroom, you found that Steve had stripped your bed of its sheets, which were starting to get a little musty, and put on a load of laundry.

You put on a clean, dry pair of pyjamas, and found Steve downstairs, cleaning up the bathroom that you’d spent ten minutes puking in, wearing marigold gloves.

“Get comfy on the couch,” he said, “I’ll be with you in a minute.” And sure enough, he returned to you holding a whole box of hair products. “Just trust me on this, okay?”

So you did.

It took many hours, several bottles of conditioner and all sorts of other products that you’d never even heard of, but eventually, Steve managed to tackle your hair into a manageable state. You had been crying on and off – it sometimes felt like Steve was yanking your hair out of your scalp – but now you felt all cried out.

Part of you appreciated the pain. You had hardly cried since Eddie’s death. If the pain managed to break through the numbness to make you shed a few tears, that could only be a good thing.

More than once, you suggested cutting it all off. Your brother adamantly refused.

When he was done, Steve looked exceedingly proud of himself. He held up a mirror like a hairdresser, showing off his handiwork. You just put your arms around him and hugged him tight.

~ PRESENT DAY ~

Eddie couldn’t help but steal glances at you. You were sitting in an armchair, a big, cosy dressing gown hiding your baby bump, clutching a mug of hot chocolate in your hands.

Making the hot chocolate had been a struggle, since Steve wouldn’t leave Eddie alone with you. It was like the riddle where you have to get a fox, a chicken and a bag of grain across a river and you can’t leave the fox with the chicken or the chicken with the grain.

Eddie supposed that made him the fox. He balked at the idea that he could ever hurt you. Steve had never trusted him before, but they had found an uneasy truce. Now, that was all out of the window.

Steve had made Eddie come into the kitchen with him while he made the hot chocolate, leaving you alone in the living room. In a brief concession to civility, he had offered Eddie some too, but he’d declined. He thought he might puke if he ate or drank anything right now.

“Hop’s here,” Steve said suddenly, and sure enough, the crunch of tyres on the gravel of the driveway reached Eddie’s ears.

Eddie took the brief moment while Steve was answering the door to steal another glance at you, and found you looking back at him. He offered you a smile, but you quickly looked away.

It turned out to be not just the chief, but the entire Hopper-Byers clan. Eddie had never met Will, nor Eleven, but he’d heard plenty about them. The two young teens were wearing hoodies and shoes over their pyjamas.

He remembered Jonathan from school. Jonathan eyed him with suspicion, but he supposed he couldn’t blame him for that. Joyce barely glanced at Eddie, beelining over to you to give you a hug, which you received gratefully. Eddie knew that you’d always loved Joyce. She’d been good to you when your own mother would barely even look at you.

“Munson,” said the chief. Or not the chief. Eddie didn’t really know what Hopper’s rank was now. Still, as a drug-dealer and general troublemaker, he had been all too familiar with the chief.

“Hop,” said Eddie, getting to his feet.

“Last I heard, you were dead.”

“I could say the same about you.”

To Eddie’s surprise, Hopper actually smiled at that. Perhaps Joyce’s influence had mellowed him out. Or so Eddie assumed, as they evidently seemed to be living together now.

“Are you a zombie?” he asked.

“Uhh, no?”

“Vampire?”

“Well, I have a certain thirst for blood, but that’s not new.” Eddie grinned, but Hopper didn’t.

“This isn’t a time for jokes, kid. Are you flayed?”

“Am I what?”

“Sit down. My daughter is going to tell us if you have any connection to Vecna.”

“W-What?”

Hop put one hand on his shoulder and shoved him back onto the couch. Eleven, whose short curly hair was tousled with sleep, perched on the edge of the coffee table. She closed her eyes.

“What’s she doing?” asked Eddie nervously. He’d heard a little about what she could do, and was mildly concerned that she might be about to snap his neck.

“She’s checking to see if there’s any trace of the Upside Down on you. If you’re a zombie, or one of Vecna’s puppets. If you’re dangerous. While she’s doing that, I’m gonna ask you some questions.”

“Maybe we should-” Steve started, putting a hand on your shoulder, but you cut him off.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you snapped.

He swallowed nervously, but acquiesced. Eddie could feel all eyes on him. He felt awfully exposed.

“What happened to you in the Upside Down?” asked Hopper.

“I don’t… I don’t really remember?” Eddie tried to think, but a flash of pain lanced through his brain, and he flinched. Eleven flinched too.

“What happened?” Hopper asked her, one hand on her shoulder. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine. Keep asking questions,” she said, her eyes still closed.

“Well?” Hopper turned to Eddie again.

“We were… we were fighting the demobats. I got overwhelmed. There were too many of them.” He winced, blinking slowly. “They were biting at me. It hurt. A lot.”

“And then?”

“I don’t remember anything else.”

“He’s telling the truth,” said Eleven, opening her eyes. “He’s not flayed. Not a zombie. Human. Alive. Something is wrong with him. But he is human.”

“‘Something’ is wrong with him?” asked the chief.

“Well, what’s new?” Eddie forced out a smile.

The room was quiet enough to hear a pin drop. That was, until you huffed out a laugh. Eddie turned his head towards you, and found you wiping tears from your eyes.

After that, Eddie couldn’t focus on anything else. Hopper and Joyce were talking to you and Steve about what to do now. The gist of it seemed to be to keep a close eye on Eddie. Eddie wasn’t listening. He was watching the way tears kept rolling down your cheeks sporadically. Steve was tense beside you, arms folded across his chest.

“We could take Eddie home with us?” Joyce suggested. “That way we could keep an eye on him to ensure he’s safe.”

“No way,” you said. “Absolutely not. He and I have some catching up to do.”

Joyce glanced down at your baby bump, grimaced, but then nodded. “Of course.”

“If anything happens – and I mean anything – you call us, okay?” said Hopper. “But it’s four in the morning, so I’m gonna take my family home. Is that alright?”

“Fine by me,” you said, very abruptly. Then your expression softened. “Thank you for coming over. We really appreciate it.”

“Alright.” Hopper clapped Steve on the back. “You did the right thing, kid.”

You stood up to see them out. It was evidently a struggle to pull yourself to your feet, and Eddie was about to offer you a hand when Steve stepped in and helped you out.

You stepped forward and gave Joyce a hug. Then you gave one each to Eleven and Will. And then the family were retreating out the door, piling into Hop’s car and driving away.

You and Eddie and Steve were left alone. Steve was clearly fighting off a yawn.

“Steve? Can I talk to Eddie alone for a minute?” you asked.

His expression tightened. “What for?”

“Because I want to talk to him,” you snapped. “Why else?”

“Okay…” He looked from Eddie to you and back. “I’ll go and make up the guest room. Yell if you need me.”

Eddie waited until Steve’s footsteps had disappeared up the stairs. He started to speak, unsure of what he really wanted to say, but was cut off by you throwing your arms around his neck and hugging him tight.

---

Notes:

When I was at university, I went through a period of being so depressed that I neglected to brush my hair for months. The more tangly it got, the worse I felt, and the less I wanted to deal with it. Eventually I went to visit my long distance bf at the time, and he asked me why I wouldn't take my hair down. With his help, I tackled it. Using a shit-ton of conditioner, he helped me brush out some of the tangles, but the stress got too much and we ended up having an argument and me having the worst panic attack I've ever had. He stayed with me until I was calm, and then he went home. I finished my hair myself, using two bottles of conditioner. The next day, it was the softest it had ever been. I never let it get that bad again.

Recently I was in hospital with a broken ankle. My family came to see me after surgery. I was so hungry, I hadn't been allowed to eat all day and I was constantly on the verge of tears. My hair was a mess. It was super tangly, so my mum brushed it for me and then plaited it so it would stay neat and not tangle. I cried the whole time because I've been pretty starved for affection.

Honestly I'm not even sure why I'm telling you all this, but it feels kinda important that you know where I'm coming from here.

Ciao.

Next Chapter

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x harrington!reader #steve harrington x sister!reader

123 notes · View notes

unrequitedloveletter · 11 months

Text

The Fire That Burns Within- N.L x fem! reader Chapter Nine

Masterlist

Okay!! There’s not much left of this series (there are two chapters and an epilogue remaining) and things are kind of picking up! A note about this is that book events are referenced but I don’t want to plagarize so I didn’t rip entire lines of dialogue out from the pages.

Fic type- this is hurt/comfort

Warnings- mentions of death, a mention of baghra jumping off the cliff, fire is used lethally (reader summons fireballs) and a very vague depiction of dissociation (it’s not referenced as that)

You were standing at the side of Alina when you saw his face again.

Twelve hours, it had been since you and Nikolai had been laughing on a terrace just like that one. Twelve hours was how long it had been since the surety in the feeling of his forehead pressed against yours. Twelve hours was the time between Nikolais hands on your waist and the sight of the Darkling in front of you.

You were cold, your kefta buttoned all the day up to your neck, the golden threading standing out and a marking of yours and Alina's alliance. The air on the terrace was brittle and the Darklings presence was setting everyone on edge. You wanted to jump off the terrace and down to your death, but you did not. You refused to do anything other than stare him down, glower at him as your jaw locked and your lips set into a thin line.

"Sergei did bring up a rather heartbreaking point in the middle of his clamber," said the Darkling. His gaze met yours, and the minute you locked eyes, your heart set off at a racing pace. "He mentioned rumors of you and the Lantsov. You cannot imagine the pain I felt knowing that my most trusted Inferni would betray me like that, especially considering the fact that our disdain for the Lantsovs is something over which we have bonded."

"I am not your ally," you spat. "And my standing with Nikolai is absolutely none of your concern. Whether I were in love with him or I hated him so much that it consumed me, it would still not be a necessary object of your worry."

"Surrender," Alina said. "Put an end to this. You know you can, and you know you should, but still, you choose not to? You are wasting so much time, so many resources. All of this can be resolved peacefully if you would just lay down your weapons and give in!"

You had, admittedly, arrived a little late to the game. You'd helped refugees get to the boats and then were off to find Nikolai, help him wherever it was necessary. Instead, you had found Alina, Mal, the Darkling, Zoya and Genya. Instead, you were confronting the last person you had ever wanted to see.

"You will not win this, Alina," he said. "You cannot win."

The nichevo'ya were terrifying as they circled around him, forming from the shape of his darkness. They were as terrifying as Genya had described, looked just as lethal as she had said they would've.

You needed to escape. Every bone in your body was begging you to run in the opposite direction, head back into the depths of the Spinning Wheel, locate the Lantsov your mind had suddenly decided to care about, and get onto a boat. You wanted to leave. You could not bear the sight of the Darkling, not for a moment longer.

You gripped your flint, summoned your small science, and forced yourself to focus on that as you aimed a ball of fire at a nichevo'ya. You let yourself grin as it cried out with pain before reforming, saw a weary look cross the Darklings face. You loved your small science, loved the warmth of the fire and the comfort it brought wherever you went. You had missed summoning as your opportunities to do so grew a little more limited, and seeing the weariness cross the Darklings expression for a moment only fueled your energy.

Good, you thought. Feel a moment of hurt for the thousands of moments you have caused everyone who has ever lost somebody because of one of your foolish actions. Feel just a sliver of an ounce of the pain you have caused.

You summoned another ball of fire, and then two more. You heard Mal snickering to your right. "For someone so elusive, she's quite skilled."

"For a tracker so renowned, he is quite the fool to be sarcastic about a woman who is willing to burn him alive," you whispered, turning just in time to catch horror as it flitted across Mals expression. You scoffed at him, and he stuck his tongue out at you in retaliation. In an act of pettiness, you returned the gesture and paired it with subtly flipping him off while you adjusted the grip you held on your flint.

The Darkling struck once, and then twice more. Your brain had moved into a different kind of state by the time that Baghra was involved. You did not scream as you watched her fall. You hardly registered it until you saw the horror, the guilt, on Alinas face and the sight of the Darkling diving after his mother.

You let Genya and Zoya lead you to a boat, your mind fuzzying with thoughts of Nikolai. Where was he? What had happened to him since you'd seen him last, bidding him good evening after he'd joked and jabbed with you at dinner? Had the Darkling gotten to him? If so, what damage had he done?

The next thing you knew, you were on a boat, Genyas hand gripping yours, Zoya a foot away from you and within earshot.

"Lantsov?" She asked, turning her gaze to yours as she and the other Squallers got the boat off the ground. "Are you thinking about him?"

"Wondering where he is," you said, shrugging. "I was trying to find him in the action, but I couldn't."

"The Darkling infected him with merzost," Alina said. It sounded like saying the words pained her. "I don't know where he is now, but he'll find us."

"And we're on the task of helping you find the Firebird?"

"The last necessary piece in defeating the Darkling and destroying the Fold," Alina said with a nod. "How're you? You looked unlike yourself until two minutes ago. More distant."

"I'm fine," you said. You knew that Nikolai would've seen right through that. "Well enough, anyway. Just got out of my head at an inopportune time, is all."

"Do your best to keep spry," Alina said with a nod. "We'll find the Firebird and put an end to all of this, I promise."

"I'm going to hold you to that, Ms. Starkov."

Alina grinned. "I expect no less, Y/N."

You pressed your head against the back of the boat, gave Genyas hand a squeeze and used your other one to grip your flint. Genya helped you get to standing and made conversation with you as you paced about the boat, finding that the pacing helped to calm your nerves.

#nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov x reader #shadow and bone #shadow and bone netflix

33 notes · View notes

queengiuliettafirstlady · 6 months

Text

The gentle stag Secrets trysts

Fandom: Ikemen Prince

Pairing: Keith x MC

Tag: Locked in Dance Party Mention of Alcohol Caress Touches Almost Kiss Soft Keith Dark Keith Fluff

Word Count : 2.968

Author’s Note: Parties are all dance and fun but what happen when two people, who may harbor secret feelings for the other, remained locked in a room alone ? Sparkles are about to burst if one of them is an hopeless flirt determined to make the most out of their alone time, bringing them closer than ever.

To celebrate Keith route release I crafted a sort of rewriting of the epilogue of "To catch a bunny rabbit" story event, because I loved that even so much it sparked my interest in him even more than before, I hope you may like it. 🤗

Side Note: He Soft Keith He Dark Keith

Tag list

@kissmetwicekissmedeadly @aquagirl1978 @violettduchess @atelieredux @klutzyroses @randonauticrap @thewitchofbooks @princess-pray-a @judejazza @itsmyara

You can find me on AO3 as QueenJuliet 😊

Thank you for everyone who will like, reblog, or comment please be gentle with me english is not my first language so please do not leave rude comments I apologise for eventual errors I hope you will like it 😊

It was a dreamy night, she spent chatting about books with her favourite author and dancing the night away with the man who stole her heart.

What more could she ask for ?

She smiled to herself smoothing her hands over her jade dress, tailor made just for her made even more special by Keith compliments and praises all through the shopping, as he helped her choice not only the color and fabric of the gown but even the jewels to match it, that night she really felt like a princess worthy to be at his side … at the thought her heart swelled with mirth, painting a rosy dream in her mind for her pleasure alone, her lips curled in a blissful smile as she stared at the crowded ballroom from outside the balcony … it wasn't her world … not yet because maybe she could have got used to it too, fit to be with him.

Sweet thoughts swirling in her heart as she let the fresh air of the evening refresh her heated cheeks, until his image popped up to her mind, she had been so busy talking with Sonia that she forget to check out on him, he had got to take some drinks but he must have forgot by that time, she sighed softly deciding to wander a bit around the garden before returning inside, remembering he told her when they met how such crowded events made him feel uncomfortable, not finding him anywhere she adventred herself in the maze of hallways and room of the house careful to scan every guest that resemble him.

She did not know how much time it passed but she was begin to feel tired, so much she stopped next to a window shooting a last glance to the moonlit garden, turning round as she saw someone approaching her from behind, the chat with that man made her behind uncomfortable, she looked around to find a way to escape … panic took hold of her at the sight of the empty hallways, so far from the hall not even the must reached it, she was about to flee when she felt one strong arm wrap around her waist, the sight of a familiar jade jacket and his musky woody scent put her immediately at ease, as she relaxed in his hug clutching his shirt.

He looked somehow different than usual, it wasn't the first time she noticed that, but as ever she brushed it off as her imagination, and yet the beastly glimpse in his amber eyes as he looked down at the man tightening his arm around her as he brushed off his lips on her hair, making her heart race, were unmistakable different like the slightly more shady and sadistic smile curling his lips, but she was too grateful he came to save her to care about anything else.

Even though he may have looked more wicked deep down he was still the same caring Keith that she came to love, asking what she wanted to do before proposing something of his own, smiling softly as her eyes light up with excitement at the prospect of discovering what he had in store for her, giggling like children he led her away through the hallways hand in hand, promising a surprise to earn that smile he never got tired of seeing light up her beautiful features.

His gift was no less than a view worthy of a painting, present in all the books she loved so much, happiness filling her to the core as she basked in the masculine hug of his arms wrapped around her waist, deaf to his words a warning for her to not trust everyone, thing she already did on her own, but brushed off when she was with him led by a yearn to know more about him, the man who unknowingly had begun to stole her heart and mind with his kindness.

They were about to return to the ball, even though she would have liked to spend a bit more time alone with him, when suddenly he discovered the door was locked and they were forced to settle down there, fear not even remotely lingering in her mind at his attempt to woo her, because in truth she felt happy, be it for a moment she had to thank the alcohol for, to have tasted what a love with him would have felt like, knowing the naivete of her dream.

He must have perceived the shift in her mood because a moment later he called out to her, inviting her to sit with him, offering her a smile, more mysterious and shady than the usual tender sweet ones she was used to but she did not mind, curious as she was to discover all his hidden sides.

She was to sit on the sofa next to him but suddenly he wrapped his finger around her wrist, took off balance she fell right on his lap, flattening her hands on his chest captive of his golden eyes gleaming with lust, too entranced to notice the compromising position she was in.

He leaned over her, few inches from her lips, unconsciously he licked his upper lip, the gesture both sensual and lascivious at once while her resolution, at staying away from him, flickered at each minute going by, but then he smell alcohol reached her nostrils, she wrinkled her nose at the stench pulling away from his grasp, mildly hurted that he shower such an interest in her only when drunk … if only he would have been sober she could have give in to their desire, sharing a precious first kiss with him, and maybe obtaining a confession of love from his part thereafter.

The weight of her shattered hopes and dreams of an impossible love too much to bear she swallowed her feelings trailing her gaze down on her hands still curled in his firm chest, perceiving her displeasure he wrapped his fingers around her own, the gesture more sensual as it had any right to be as he slide his lips from her wrist to her knuckles covering her skin with little wet kisses, lingering more than appropriate on her ring fingers making her heart race furiously in her chest at the smoldering sensuality of his gaze as he nibbled on her digits one by one, smirking in delight at the rosy blush spreading on her cheeks.

His voice husky and low, almost contradicting his own words with his actions as he cupped her face in his hand, bruising tenderly his fingers on her cheeks

“You should be careful of being alone in a room with a man, ya know ?”

“Are you telling me I should be wary of everyone … even you ?” she looked back at him, astounded at his advice

“Especially me, for the most wicked beasts may be the ones we let in.” something similar to concern flickered in his amber eyes as he looked straight at her, with an unusually stern expression on his features

“I am not afraid.” she shook her head, as even the mere idea of not trusting him was ridiculous to her ears

“I am touched.” he disguised his confession with a sly smirk,

“What makes me so special ?” there was a hint of mirth in his voice, almost as he was testing her, not intimidated from that farce she held his gaze.

“I trust you.”

Her candid confession took him aback, not enough though to let his composure falter, as he probed further to keep her away from him, away from his heart that already he felt wrapped around by the branches of love they felt for her,

“Even now ?” she nodded smiling sheepishly at him

“Yes but now it seems you are going to hurt me and …” she let out a shaky sigh “I am scared of what you will do to me.”

His fingers cruelly gentle as they brushed on her lips

“I have to say I am tempted to gobble you up.” her eyes widened in disbelief at the smoldering heat in his amber gaze, shining in the dimly lit room like a predator looking over his prey.

“But I won’t harm you. After all it will be a sin to scare you away now that we are beginning to be close.”

Every words oozing the sensual decadence of a secret tryst fanning on her skin, setting it ablaze in delicious contact with the wetness of his lips brushing ever so softly on her neck, making her desire for more despite the warning signs he was giving her, mesmerizing her to give in the temptation of her most wicked desire.

A dreamy sigh escaping her lips involuntarily, suppressed by her hand, brushing over that soft rosy lips he yearned to savour, melting in a gasp as he laid on the sofa his movements both languid and sensual at once he leaned his head on her lap his gaze alluring seducing her to give in his selfish desire for attention a malicious smirk on his lips coaxing her to obey him

“I hope this position is comfortable enough for you.” she nodded, unable to say anything else, lost in the molten gold of his eyes, a beastly glimpse flickering in it like a predator seizing up his prey shining in the dimly lit room.

“Good I will take it as a thanks for saving you before and showing you this place.”

He reached to caress a soft curl dangling on her shoulder, her eyes widening at his intimate touch taking him aback by her strange docility, capturing him deeper in the spires of what surely He would have called love, something he personally has never experienced until her.

“Thank me once its tomorrow too, I love to hear your sweet voice first thing in the morning.”

The touch of her fingers on his curls strangely comforting, touch she was doing to Him, that thought soured his expression as he looked at her, seeing reflecting in her bright pure eyes nothing but the deepest kindness and tenderness of her heart, dripping over her words.

“I think you should mind how much alchol do you drink.”

“What for ? It’s not like anyone can order me around ‘bout what I have to do is it ?”

“No but … I care for you.”

Her heartfelt confession had the effect of a cold shower on him as he stared at her in disblief

“Like I don’t want anyone to take advantage of you when you are drunk that is.”

a tender smile curled her lips as she combed her fingers through his hair, brushing her thumb on his cheek pushing a rebel lock away from his face.

“Now is better if you take a nap to dispose of the alcohol running in you.”

He couldn’t afford to lower his barrier too much with her, she didn’t know anything of him not yet and though that words melted his heart all the same, a soft smiled curled his lips before he resumed his though facade

“I will take up on your offer then, thank you.” he shot her a last sultry gaze speaking in such a low hoarse voice revelling in the deep shade of red rising to her cheeks.

“Feel free to do the same, little bunny.”

She nodded mindlessly continuing to brush through his soft grey curls, smiling at his cute nickname, hearing him purr in delight feeling drowsiness taking over her she felt grateful for his decision to turn on his side, while his head shifted away from her lap, giving her freedom of movements, slowly, as to not wake him up, she slide next to him sandwiched between his sturdy body and the back of the sofa, strangely so she felt safe almost as his body was shielding her from any harm a sigh of relief escaped her lips admiring his graceful features.

It was such a weird hectic night even though she could not tell the second part of it exactly a dream she could not brush it away either, at least she got to see another side of him she should have been grateful right ?

Yet she felt a weird uneasiness took over her hoping for him not to change too much, afraid his sudden switches would have eventually led them to drift apart, strangely so this thought wounded her more than she could say, almost as he perceived the sudden shift in her mood he wrapped his arm around her keeping her close to him.

A rush of heat rose to her cheeks for that intimate contact feeling his warm breath fanning over her cheeks she closed her eyes trying not to overthink about it too much, to not read anything in that light contact, after all he was fast asleep right ?

Maybe he was a cuddly drunken or he just like to cuddle, even though the little smile on his lips told her a different story sheepishly she trailed her gaze down only to feel her head cradled into his chest as his soft fingers brushed over her soft curls, while the other arm wrapped around her waist, before she knew she drifted asleep nuzzled on his pecs dreaming of him.

Unaware of the way the budding affection, hidden in their hearts, was slowly but constantly growing stronger each day as they got closer, bonded by the strongest ties of them all the red string of love, written above the stars, twinkling happily in the blue night sky peeking from the clouds as the moon look down at them, bathing the little room in its light.

It was still night when a knock at the door awake him from his slumber, his sudden movement waking her up smiling at the sound of the night birds chirping excitedly outside already spreading the rumors she envisioned would have spread through the palace, after the news of their peculiar night spent together all alone in a room, but she didn't cared not even one bit, truth to be told she was happy to be exchanged as his lover.

Not minding the hour she took her time to bask in his hug, smiling at the gentle touch of his fingers on her cheeks as he greeted her good morning before fretting over to apologise profusely for that compromising position, finding his legs wrapped around her and her head laid on his arm, but she was quickly to reassure him nothing happened between them, even though she would have preferred otherwise, alike the drunk part of him that didn't seem against showing his passion freely at the contrary of the shy, kind Keith who was right in front of her, gazing pleadingly at her asking for forgiveness over and over again.

She reassured him it was nothing he should mind of, ignoring the way her heart clamored uneasily and the urge she had to kiss that soft rosy lips of his to shut his apologise but she wasn’t so brave to and so she settled to calm him down cupping his cheeks and caressing her thumbs on his soft skin, diving in the deep pool of molten gold of his eyes.

Ever the gentleman he pulled off from her, helping her off the sofa adjusting her dress and hair before doing the same to him in time to greet his butler coming to look for them, unaware of the gratitude she felt at the knowledge the lock functioned and so the previous night white lie from his was a trick he pulled off to be alone with her, offering much needed time to spend together getting to know one another better, knowing little of the fact even his naughty side, she didn’t quite discovered yet, interested her as much as his kind one did.

The carriage travel back to the palace was long, and boring seeing how much drowsy she still felt and so she focused in admiring him to stay awake, with little success, as she slumped on his shoulder, too tired to slide off she remained where she was faking to be asleep, a soft smile curling her lips as she basked in his strong arms cradling her on his chest once more, nuzzling better in his arms as she felt him carrying her back to her room, placing her on the sofa before turning to go away but she caught his hand.

“Thank you for this wonderful night Keith and for showing me the room, it was a beautiful sight.” A sheepish smile curled her lips mirroring his own

“It was my pleasure. I am happy you liked it.” a soft blush crept up on her cheeks at the sensation of his lips kissing gallantry her knuckles, like a night, her heart bursted with affection as she raised on her tiptoe to plant a soft kiss on his cheek, revelling in his rosy blush, while his masculine musky and woody scent enveloped her nostrils making her dizzy.

They parted way promising to meet that afternoon for a tea party, a spring in her step as she got ready for the night, looking out of the window while thoughts of the pleasurable time she had spent in his company swirled in her mind, her heart filled with happiness and curiosity as she greeted the stars twinkling in the night sky, pleasure behind imagination crafted her dreams until dawn, when she bathed in the warmth of the morning sun, enjoying a breakfast with him, like a couple, bonded together by the strongest force of them all, capable to bring to their knees peasant and Kings alike, for nothing was more powerful than the almighty power of love.

#ikemen prince #my writing #ikemen prince keith #ikepri keith #ikepri

14 notes · View notes

isimpfortoomanypeople · 2 years

Note

Omg! You did amazing portraying the whole sibling thing and relationship.

The part where yn scared bully was funny.

Please do another, maybe an epilogue like Billy spying on dates?

"Get out of the fucking tree,"

"I'm birdwatching,"

"it's two am idiot,"

"fuck,"

Lmao anything with badass reader (hargrove ) dating Steve

A/N: Aww thanks so much and I’m so happy that you loved it. I love this idea of Billy spying on them and just being an idiot.

Stay away from my sister- Steve Harrington x Fem Y/N Hargrove part 2

Part 1

Warnings: small mentions of catcalling, the reader is Billy’s fraternal twin to include all readers

A/N: I’m from the U.K. sorry if this sounds overly British, apologises for all spelling and grammatical mistakes as I’m super dyslexic, enjoy

It’s been a week since Tina’s party, one week exactly since you kissed Steve in front of your brother’s face. You wished that you would of recorded Billy’s reaction because it was hilarious, he looked mortified like he had just witnessed the worst thing imaginable. From his big reaction you would of expected him to at least yell at Steve, yell at you for betraying him for kissing the Harrington boy, but no Billy was being oddly reasonable it was unsettling. Sure he made the occasional glare towards him whenever their eyes met but this new found silence was so unlike the brother you knew.

“What’s wrong darling?” Steve asked as he slid his arm around your waist. It was like clockwork at this point, Steve met you at your locker daily at the exact time to carry your books to class, snaking his arm around your waist and pepper your face in a million kisses just to see you blush. Which according to Steve was the most adorable thing in the world. But today there was something off about you, you seemed distracted and dazed like your mind was in a different dimension entirely.

“It’s just Billy, I don’t know. He’s been too quiet about us dating, I was at least expecting some form of reaction by now” you sighed closing the metal door of your locker, passing Steve your chemistry textbook.

“Maybe Billy has accept us dating?, I mean you were very intimidating. You even scared me for a second” he smirked, gently guiding you towards the direction of your next class.

“Have you met my brother? He loves the dramatics, he’s up to something and I don’t know what”

“Forget about him, are we still good for tonight?”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world” Steve leant into you, placing a long tender kiss on your lips. “Now go, before you’re late to O’Donnell’s. that woman is seriously terrifying”

Steve laughed, placing another kiss on your lips before running down the corridor hoping to get there before the bell rang.

You watched him go and felt your heart flutter which made the butterflies in your stomach race. The corners of your lips curled into a small smile as you realised, yep your definitely falling for Steve Harrington

——————————————————————————

Swiping on another layer of gloss upon your lips before grabbing your jacket and headed towards the front door. Before you could turn the handle you heard Billy’s voice.

“You look nice”

“Thanks, Steve is taking me out?” Your voice dragged out the sentence till it sounded like a question, highlighting how unsure you were about your brother’s nonchalant attitude towards tonight.

“Oh, where is he taking you?” He asked completely unfazed by the whole situation which further added to how out of character he was acting. Billy hated Steve’s guts, he despised his whole existence to the point he practically knocked him over during a basket ball game. Now he was okay with his sister dating the boy he hates, something wasn’t adding up which led to an uneasy feeling in your stomach.

“He’s taking me to the movies” you took a moment to observe his face and saw no reaction upon his features, not even the little twitch in his eye that he gets when he’s on the verge of rage. “Why are you so okay with this?”

“Huh?” He looked at you like you just grew another head, this started to irritate you. You knew your brother more than anyone and for him to be totally unfazed was exasperating.

“You hate Steve to the point you nearly punched him at Tina’s party, now you’re okay with me going on a date with him? So what gives?”

“Why do you care about what I think? You made it very clear that you would kill me if I laid a finger on the ‘king of Hawkins’, Y/N I saw you punch that guy who catcalled you a few days ago. I’d rather not take that risk” Billy shrugged, gently brushing past your shoulder as he walked towards the kitchen.

Your eyes grew wide and your brows furrowed together, Billy is definitely up to something. You’re definitely not going crazy or picking up on signals that weren’t there, he’s definitely up to no good.

A knock at the door brought you out of your thoughts, you turned the handle and called over your shoulder

“Don’t do anything stupid while I’m out”

“Wouldn’t dream of it”

You open the wooden frame to see Steve, he stood in blue jeans with a blue striped shirt, he looked so handsome that all your sentences got lodged in your throat. Leaving your mouth agape staring at him.

He chuckled about how blatantly obvious you were being, like he could see every cog in your brain coming to a screeching halt. You truly were the most beautiful person he had ever laid his eyes upon.

“Ready darling?”

You quickly darted your eyes away from him as you felt your cheeks flush with embarrassment from being caught, but who could blame you when he looked this good?

“I’m ready”

“You look beautiful by the way”

you smiled back at him, as your cheeks became nearly as red as the dress you were wearing. Steve had some form of hold over you. You once prided yourself upon being an independent person, who obtained the same level of “I don’t give a fuck” attitude as your twin, but when Steve was around that persona faded away leaving you in this lovesick mush.

——————————————————————————

Steve chose ‘nightmare on elm street’ for you both to watch, he was secretly hoping that you’d become scared and would cuddle into his side for comfort. While he could do that romantic cliche of putting his arm around you, holding you closer, whispering into your ear that he’d protect you.

What Steve didn’t factor in for is that you were Billy’s twin, Billy would force you to watch ‘Carrie’ and ‘the shining’. Doing that whole annoying brother thing of scaring you with the horror classics of Steven King and all of the classics within that genre . You were now use to scary movies, in fact you were starting to like them.

So Steve’s plan to act as the protector was ruined, you may or may not have even acted as his protector every time Freddy’s face flashed across the screen. But you swore to secrecy that you didn’t have to hold Steve tight while he had his head buried in the dip of your shoulder.

You both didn’t want the night the to end, so Steve suggested that you both go to the most beautiful place in Hawkins, a small secluded woods that contained a beautiful lake within the middle. Steve didn’t tell you the name of the lake and how he pretty much invented the place, in fear of you thinking that he’s a player. Steve swears that he has left those days in his past, for he has only known you for two weeks but he swears that he has never met anyone like you. He has never met anyone who has captured his heart the way you have, he was far from saying ‘love’ but he knew deep down that he would say those words to you in the future.

Staring up at the stars, nestled upon Steve’s chest looking at the night sky, this felt romantic and familiar as if fate has brought you to this moment.

“What are you thinking about?” Steve questioned looking dotingly at your face illuminated in the pale moonlight.

“Just how beautiful this is”

Steve dipped his head to down gently kiss your forehead, you smiled relaxing into his embrace-

Wait did that tree just move? You slowly arose from Steve’s warm arms to investigate the disturbance further.

Upon closer inspection you saw a leather jacket stretched across one of the branches, and familiar curls of sandy blonde hair.

Wait! Surely not?

“Billy?” You called up to the shadowy figure a few branches above from you. The figure froze not daring to move an inch.

Shit! Billy thought, he has done so well so far not to be caught. He didn’t want to spy but he’s heard about Steve’s old reputation of being a player and he was making sure that his sister wasn’t going to be hurt, plus Billy doesn’t trust Steve as far as he can throw him.

Billy froze in place hoping that if he didn’t move you wouldn’t see him and go away

“Billy?” You called again, silence was the response you received. You couldn’t help but let out a laugh over this whole situation.

He seriously doesn’t think that you’re that stupid?

“Billy get out of the fucking tree!”

“I’m birdwatching” he blurted back, cringing as he didn’t have time to register what he just said till it was out in the open. He was honestly such a terrible liar

“It’s 2am you idiot” you hissed, you didn’t know wether to laugh at how much of a fucking idiot he was being, or if to die of embarrassment for you could hear Steve’s howls of laughter over this mortifying situation.

“Fuck!” He groaned, he smacked the palm of his hand to his forehead. He truly was an idiot and now all he wanted to do was wallow in his own embarrassment.

“Go home you creep” you joked, the moonlight wasn’t bright enough to see his reaction but you knew that he was turning as red as a beetroot. Yep Billy you definitely aren’t going to hear the last of this.

A/N: I just love the idea of Billy being a protective brother and to me Steve is a himbo, I don’t make the rules he just gives off that energy. Thanks to everyone who has sent in their requests, I’m currently working on them :)

@manyfandomsfanvergent

#stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things imagine #stranger things steve #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x female reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem

44 notes · View notes

j-graysonlibrary · 2 months

Text

Heartbeats; Paradise Epilogue

Title: Heartbeats; Paradise

Author: Jay Grayson

Word Count: 112K

Genres: Psychological thriller, drama, sci-fi, LGBT+

Available on: Kobo and my website

Synopsis: Melvin Hardy and Kade Axel appear to be a match made in heaven. After a meet-cute in the rain, the two quickly find themselves in a burgeoning, wholesome relationship.

Yet, things feel…off. It isn’t the ghosts of their pasts that resurface to test the strength of their partnership—no—it’s something nebulous. Something indescribable. Melvin can’t put his finger on it but, the more time he spends with Kade, the more he starts to wonder what’s real and what’s pure fiction.

Full epilogue under the cut:

Epilogue:

The dim lighting in the kitchen sets the mood for dinner and those gorgeous eyes meet mine and I hold that gaze for a long while. Kade smiles at me as our hands are clasped over the table. A large meal, made up of many parts and a result of hours of care and work in the kitchen, sits between us.

It’s a special occasion though bittersweet in nature.

I usually cook for us but Kade took on the task today. He wants to do everything he can for me on this day—even if I don’t think that’s entirely fair. The gesture is sweet, however; I can admit that. Besides, it’s the intent that truly matters and I’m already planning ways that I can pay him back in the following days.

It’s been a year since Oswald Friar was taken to jail, forever leaving our lives and gifting us this peace and quiet. As I said, the anniversary doesn’t necessarily hold the best memories for us but it’s still worth looking back and appreciating how far we’ve come.

Pictures from that fateful night pop into my mind and, while they’re fuzzy, I still want to swat them away.

The way I felt when I saw Kade tied to that bed was like nothing I’d ever felt before and like nothing I ever want to feel again. Even if my memory is spotty—blanked out by the rage I flew into—I know what it makes me feel. What I’m missing in those empty spaces, I can fill in with the gut knowing I have.

Kade is the same way though we barely ever speak of it anymore. He buried most of the experience deep down and only recalls me rushing into that apartment and beating Oswald until the cops came.

I glance to our hands, laced together on the table, and I scan over the scars on my wrist. My brow twitches and I feel my stomach churn but I give it no further thought. I squeeze his hand.

“You really didn’t have to make all this just for me,” I say for what feels like the millionth time.

Kade chuckles and then shakes his head. He’s let his hair grow out some and he looks like an angel from a renaissance painting come to life. “It’s the least I can do for my hero. Every year, starting now, I want to celebrate you and thank you for saving my life.”

“But I should be the one cooking for you after everything you went through.”

He squeezes my hand in return but glances away. I fear I’ve upset him by mentioning his trauma too directly but he sighs and looks back at me. A smile hangs on in spite of everything. “You can appreciate me in other ways, you know.”

That sly look is unmistakable and I find myself grinning. “Don’t tease me,” I say and finally pull my hand away from his. If I don’t, we’ll just sit here and stare into each other’s eyes until our food goes cold.

Kade follows my lead but he does wait for me to take a bite before picking up his utensils. “Is it any good?” he asks, leaning forward with anticipation.

“Perfect,” I tell him, “Just like you.”

The blush I love so dearly blossoms across his cheeks and he looks down at his plate. He busies himself with eating and I keep my gaze on him when I can while I enjoy the wonderful meal he’s made for me. My mind, however, races with what we’ll do after dinner.

Of course, I’ll wash the dishes and clean up but, after that…

We have all night to be together and I intend to savor every second with my love. In my mind’s eye, I see our bodies intertwined, under the sheets and painted in the blue light of the moon as it pours into the room. The romantic imagery of my mind’s eye is so realistic I could get lost in it.

A thump against my foot gets my attention back on my love. Kade shoots me a lopsided grin and I realize that it’s his foot which taps against mine under the table. He pushes against me once more and I think that he must be able to see the direction my thoughts are taking me through the expression on my face alone. The corner of his lip hikes even further up and he says, “Wanna skip dishes?”

I mimic his smile. “Maybe.”

We’re both ready to jump up and race each other to the bedroom but, before we can even scoot our chairs back, the lights cut out.

My heart skips a beat at the suddenness of it but I collect my thoughts quickly. I pull my phone from my pocket and try to turn on the flashlight but the screen won’t even turn on. I push the button a few times and nothing happens. That’s strange—I could have sworn that I charged the thing this morning.

“Shit…what the hell?” I mumble before taking a stand.

There is a window nearby so I pull the curtain to the side and open the blinds, letting in the orange glow from the solar powered streetlamp below. It isn’t great but it lets me see a little better.

I turn back to the table and notice that Kade hasn’t moved at all. He’s not looking at me or the light from the window—he’s just staring straight ahead.

In a rush of thought and repressed feeling, I’m hit with the realization that the fog is gone. And not stilled or diluted—gone. There is a lot wrong with what’s been happening lately and while I’d like to sort those issues out, Kade takes precedence.

I return to the table and lean down to get a better look at him. Half of his face is still hidden in darkness but the half that’s illuminated strikes me.

A lump forms in my throat as I look at him. He’s still not moving and I’m reminded of my co-workers and so many other, lifeless people I’ve come across over the past year and a half in this small town.

I wave my hand in front of his face, watching for any signs of life. “Kade…?” I call out to him but I keep my voice down, soft and low.

Nothing.

“Kade!” I jump to shouting instantly and I shake him. At least, when I move him, his brows push together. There could still be something—someone—in there. “Kade…” I hold my breath as I watch him.

His mouth moves as if he wants to say something and his eyebrows turn up as a tear slips down his cheek. It takes minutes although it feels like hours but he slowly looks up at me.

He’s scared.

“Kade, what’s wrong?” I ask before insisting, “Talk to me!”

He blinks and another tear falls. His eyes burn straight through me. “She’s gone…”

My chest seizes and I grab both of his shoulders, needing to hold onto something and also hoping to push him to tell me more. “Who is she?” I ask, tightening my grip.

Is it the same “she” Oswald spoke of? The same “she” that I heard in my head? The same “she” who’s done everything? Who’s controlled our lives?

Kade’s bottom lip trembles and he asks me, “What do I do now?”

I don’t know what to say to that—I’m not even sure what he means. I also don’t want to interrupt him since I see him gulp and prepare to speak again.

His eyes dart around the room as if he’s trying to find something to focus on other than me. “She’s not telling me what to do…my head…it’s…it’s…”

“It’s what?” I urge, hanging onto every word.

Kade blinks and then whispers, just loud enough for me to hear, “Empty.”

#heartbeats paradise #my novel #my writing

1 note · View note

dilemmaontwolegs · 10 months

Text

The Aftermath || LN4 {12}

Pairing: Lando Norris x widow!reader Summary: daddy!Lando struggles with balancing work and parenthood Warnings: 18+ only, fluff, mentions of pregnancy and birth WC: 2.3k

F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || Ten || Eleven || Twelve || Thirteen || Epilogue

Lando was uneasy as he made his first appearance for the new race season, arriving in Bahrain alone. He could constantly be found on his phone, distracted, and every spare moment he had was spent on a facetime call to you.

“Good morning, love. How are my favourite girls?” he asked quietly as the video connected.

You smiled at the sight of your husband and panned the camera to the newborn asleep in the crook of your arm. “Missing daddy.”

“I miss you too.” The exhaustion in his blue eyes faded as he watched his daughter’s chest rise and fall for a few moments. “She looks like she’s grown.”

“You’ve only been gone one night, Lan,” you chuckled softly.

“It feels like more.” He took a seat on the bed in his hotel and leaned against the headboard with a heavy sigh. “I thought I would actually be able to sleep through but I kept waking up because it was too quiet.”

“If it makes you feel better, I was the same,” you giggled. “She slept for a whole four hours straight last night but I still woke up after two. My boobs were huge by the time she woke up for a feed.”

“Pics or it didn’t happen.”

“You have a million pictures of my boobs on your phone.”

“And I want one more. I miss them too. And your lips, and your neck, and your thighs, and your-”

“I get it, you miss me,” you laughed, accidentally waking Renleigh.

“Hi, princess, it’s daddy,” Lando cooed softly as her eyes fluttered open, giving him a peek of the blue irises they shared. “I wish I could hold you and give you the biggest kisses.”

He clutched the necklace hanging over his shirt and his finger ran over the engraving of her name and the date she was born, only six weeks ago. Those six weeks had gone by so fast, it was almost unbelievable. Everyone said that children grow up so quickly but he hadn’t believed it until in the blink of an eye he was packing his bag, leaving you and Renleigh safely at home. It felt like only yesterday he had held her for the first time.

“What am I doing?”

You knew he hadn’t meant to ask that aloud but you humoured him anyway. “Exactly what we planned. Four more sleeps and you will be right back where you belong, baby.”

Lando groaned at the thought of another four nights sleeping apart but he knew it was safer for Renleigh at home. The thought of bringing her to the races where thousands of people roamed the paddock induced panic into him and he took a shuddering breath. “I don’t think I can do this,” he whispered.

“Yes, you can,” you assured him, shifting Ren on your shoulder so you could talk to her and he could see both of your faces on the small screen. “Your daddy doesn’t know how to give up. He never gave up on me, even when I pushed him away, and he never gave up on us when everyone told him he was crazy. He is the bravest man I know and you, my darling, are so lucky to have a daddy like that.”

Lando blinked rapidly as his eyes started to water and the visible relief shimmered on the surface of those tears. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Renleigh started to wriggle and grunt until you moved her to your other shoulder. The change in position must have been exactly what she needed as her body tensed and a horrific sound escaped her onesie.

“Little lady!” Lando gasped before chuckling. “I’ll let you go deal with that, love.”

“Thanks,” you drawled as you rolled your eyes. “I’m keeping a tally of all the diaper changes you have missed so you can catch up when you get home.”

“That’s fair,” he agreed with a laugh as he wiped his eyes. “Are you sure you’re okay on your own? If you need a break just to catch up on sleep Maria said she can be there in a few hours, mum too.”

“I’m alright at the minute, Lan,” you said with a little smile to Ren. “It won’t be long before we have to share her with the world, I’m savouring these moments.”

“Okay, but call me if you need anything. There’s more diapers in the garage and the groceries I ordered should be delivered this morning-”

“Lando, relax, I’ve got things locked down here,” you assured him one again as you heard the doubt creeping into his tone. “You focus on your job.”

The tv was playing quietly as you saved time and multitasked, folding the washing on the sofa while your foot gently moved the baby rocker where Renleigh slept. You just finished folding the latest load of baby clothes when the Formula One theme song began and you sat back to see what media day would bring.

A key turned in the front door before it swung open and Max waltzed in with his arms full of grocery bags, his eyes lighting up as he saw the new opening video start. “Hey Mama! Made it just in time,” he said with a grin as Lando came across the screen. “Oh, there’s our boy. Looking dapper, ol’ Bob.”

“Hey Max,” you greeted as he walked by to the kitchen. “When Lando said he had ordered groceries, I didn’t think he meant he ordered you to get them.”

“He probably didn’t want anyone seeing these get delivered,” Max said as he unpacked the bags and lifted up a pack of breast pads to frown at them. “What do these even do?”

“Catch the milk that leaks.”

His nose wrinkled and he dropped them back down. “That actually happens?”

“At the most inconvenient times too,” you muttered wistfully. No one told you that getting aroused could trigger a letdown, but you and Lando certainly found out the hard way before he left. Thankfully Lando was Lando and he found it hilarious, laughing it off to save you from utter embarrassment.

“You’re really not selling this baby thing for me,” he stated as he tossed a tube of diaper cream over to you.

“I’m sorry, what I meant to say was…those are just nipple pasties and my body hasn’t completely changed since I pushed an 8lb human out of my-”

“Yeah, yeah, okay, I get it.” He shivered at the thought and finished his unpacking before dropping down into ‘his’ chair and stealing the rocker away from you. “It’s not as glamorous as I imagined, but she’s pretty cute. Aren’t you, sweetheart? Wake up for Uncle Maxie.”

You chuckled softly as he unbuckled her and picked her up, but she slept as heavily as Lando and didn’t even stir.

“Have you spoken to him?” you asked as a clip of Lando signing autographs for fans came across the screen.

Max’s lips turned down as he nodded. “He’s struggling.”

You sighed and turned the volume up as the interviews started to begin. “I don’t know how to help. If I say I’m fine without him it makes him feel like a spare part and if I say I’m not then he worries even more.”

“He just needs time to settle into the change, especially before the news breaks.” Max looked down at Ren and grinned. “You are going to break the internet, yes you are.”

“I’m surprised the secret hasn’t already come out in all honesty. Lando isn’t exactly good at keeping them.”

“This is different though, it’s for your guys' privacy. But it was funny to see you sneaking around under baggy hoodies, can’t do that now that the weather’s warming up and she’s on the outside.”

“I was incognito!”

He looked like he was going to argue before he pointed to the screen and you saw Lando in front of a Sky News reporter.

“Welcome back, Lando, how was your winter break?”

A bright smile lit up his face and it felt like it was just for you as he stared down the camera lens. “It was the best one yet.”

“Your social media updates were noticeably empty of your wife and we haven’t seen her yet around the paddock. Is she well? Is everything alright?”

“She’s good, really good.” His nervous mannerisms started to leak through as he scratched the back of his neck before fidgeting with his necklace. “She wishes she could be here. She has something more important happening at the moment to make any of the overseas races but they’ll come to Imola.”

“Whomp, there it is,” Max chuffed as you both heard the slip up.

“Maybe they missed it?”

The droll stare he gave you showed just how little he believed that. “Yeah and I’m a unicorn.”

“There was that one time,” you pointed out, reminding him of the time Lando and Mila had drawn on his face while he slept. “It was a dick on your forehead, not a horn, but it’s really the same thing.”

“They?” the reporter prompted, the microphone pushing even closer to Lando’s pink cheeks.

“I…uhh…”

You bit your lip as your husband grew more uncomfortable and you pulled your phone out, knowing he would answer no matter what.

“One sec,” Lando said as held up a finger and stepped back from the mic to answer. “Hi, love, everything okay?”

“Are you?”

His sigh was answer enough and you saw him comb a hand through his curls. “I think we need to change strategies. I fucked A up.”

“It was an accident,” you said softly. “That’s why there’s a plan B. I love you.”

“Love you too.”

“Now go on, you’ve been itching to post it for months.”

Lando was smiling as he ended the call and walked back to the reporter with his phone in hand. “So, they,” he stopped to giggle with excitement. “That would be in regards to this.”

Lando turned his phone to the screen just as he hit post on the Instagram picture, sharing your news with the world. Going on your honeymoon for two weeks had been sublime but what you had returned home with was even better.

“Congratulations! Any hint as to the due date?”

“I think I’ve given you enough already, haven’t I?” he shot back, still riding the high of adrenaline after posting the picture. “But we would really appreciate some privacy, I can’t exaggerate it enough. If you see us on the street, I’m happy to sign autographs and take a picture with you but please respect my family and only take photos of me.”

“He’s jealous of sharing the attention,” Carlos called out behind him.

“Yeah, that’s exactly it, you caught me.” Lando immediately covered his crotch as Carlos passed by and tried to hit him in the nuts. “Ah, no, stop that, I want another kid or two before you damage them.”

“That’s news to me. My stitches have barely healed and he wants me to go through that again.” Max looked at you confused. “It’s called an episiotomy, look it up if you want nightmares.”

“No thanks.”

You were wearing the rug thin in the living room as you impatiently waited for Lando’s return. You had paced back and forth for an hour since seeing Lando’s plane land on the flight radar app. Ren was tucked snugly against your chest in a baby wrap and had quickly fallen asleep with the rocking movement but you started to unwrap her when you saw the pair of headlights coming up the drive.

Renleigh wasn’t too happy at being woken up but you softly cooed to her as she settled back down, “Daddy’s home, baby girl.”

It took a moment for him to see you as he came in from the garage, his suitcase trailing behind him. Dark circles surrounded his eyes and he pulled his cap off as he walked through the doorway, combing a hand into the curls that had been flattened.

“Hi baby,” you greeted when he spotted you in the dimly lit living room despite the late hour. “You didn’t think we would miss your homecoming, did you?”

He crossed the room with a few long strides, his suitcase clattering to the floor as it was forgotten, and he enveloped you both in his arms. “I missed you,” he repeated over and over as he kissed your lips and then Renleigh’s forehead. His eyes fluttered shut and his face relaxed as he buried his nose in her hair and inhaled deeply like he had forgotten her baby scent. “I missed you.”

“We missed you too,” you said as you handed Ren over. “Someone is ready for bed, and I think her daddy is too.”

“Yeah? You want daddy to put you to bed?” he asked as he nuzzled her nose. “One more minute, I need my cuddles first.”

He took a seat on the couch and settled Renleigh on top of his chest as they both yawned. “I can’t wait until you are bigger, baby girl. It breaks my heart to be away from you and mama.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat as you sat beside him and draped your arm over his shoulders, combing your fingers through his hair. He hummed softly as you massaged his head and you felt his head growing heavier as his whispered conversation grew quieter. A soft snore finally escaped and his head rolled onto your shoulder as the exhaustion from his travels won and you kissed his forehead.

“It breaks my heart too.”

Click here for chapter thirteen.

#lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #f1 imagines #f1 fic #f1 rpf #formula 1 fanfic #formula one imagine #formula 1 x you

748 notes · View notes

simonsnowichooseyou · 3 years

Text

This excellent essay was posted by @goodbyedandelion and reposted on Instagram—however their account sadly seems gone now. But it is in rememberence of their Tumblr spirit that I post a continuation to their essay!

EVEN MORE Reasons Why Carry On is so groundbreaking as a YA Fantasy/Romance

Misconceptions/Character Complexity

A large topic in YA Contemporary is gossip, but I feel like fantasy doesn’t touch on this as much. Think of how others perceive one another in Carry On. Early on we learn that Simon, for example, saw Penny as different because of her race. But of course, we quickly know this isn’t true.

But what about Agatha? In Harry Potter, for example, Lavender Brown and other feminine characters are often looked down upon because of their femininity. We often as a culture perceive beauty as overcompensation for what’s inside. Sometimes Agatha is looked at in the same light in Carry On, but when we see things from her POV, we realize that Agatha is perhaps the smartest one there. Maybe she’s not Penny Bunce-smart, but she has the survival instincts that Penny lacks.

Agatha isn’t the only one. Baz looks cold and unfeeling from others’ POVs, but we quickly learn that he is a boy with a soft heart that’s been hardened by his past. Everyone thinks he cares about nothing but we know he cares about his mother and how she’d feel about him; his father and step-mother and siblings; Simon, of course; Bunce, in his own way; he even cares about flowered suits and dramatic entrances! We think Bunce is nerdy and perhaps annoying, but we learn she’s very sweet and like a mother to Simon. And the mage. Ugh, the mage. We think he cares about Simon but we learn that for every bit he cares about Simon, he cares about the war more.

Rowell doesn’t allow any character to be simple, stereotypical, or as they appear. My sister, for example, was saying that Baz sounded like a stereotypical gay man in the media. But he’s not, is he? He might love fashion but Rowell does not make him simple or stereotypical. Everyone is so complex, and she uses the multi-POV to not just show us their complexity but also the complexity of how they are viewed by others.

Woman on Woman Drama/Anger

For years and years, only one woman was allowed to have a true seat at the table in films. Take Indiana Jones, the original Avengers, and Star Wars for example. This woman was often made to be the sex appeal or romantic interest, but I’ll save that for another day. Because of there only being one spot, it set a precedent that women in media needed to fight with each other to take that spot, thus depriving us of women getting along!

At first, I was worried Rowell had fallen into this trap. Bunce thinks Agatha is simple and too feminine, Agatha thinks Bunce is a major pain in the ass. Their dislike for one another is complicated in that they’re essentially two different types of feminism battling it out, and half of their fight was about Simon and their roles in his life.

But in the end, Penny and Agatha create a relationship that exists outside of their relationship with Simon. Penny sees Agatha’s strength and resilience; Agatha recognizes Penny’s harsh exterior for what is is. When Agatha moves away, they text without his even knowing. Penny is the one that decides they need to check on and save her. In the end, penny and Agatha fight alongside one another.

Rowell didn’t just give us a feminine friendship—she showed us what we’ve been doing, and how to get from Point A to point B. I think it’s the most underrated part of the series.

True Friendship

It might sound bad, but I truly believe a lot of today’s media ruins the idea of friendship. I just feel like none of the portrayals are realistic. Friends are either joined at the hip and have never fought (toxic) or never get along (also toxic). The fact that Baz and Penny and Simon and Penny and Agatha and Penny can get into fights but still continue to love one another platonically is really heartwarming to me.

Trauma/Mental Illness

I remember getting to the end of Harry Potter and thinking “he went through all of that and we’re just supposed to leave him now?” We see some remnants in the most cursed play ever: The Cursed Child. But more than trauma we see someone who looks back on the days they risked their life everyday with *longing.* While that’s about the most Harry Potter thing Harry Potter has ever done (and the most canonical part of that play) it’s so unrealistic. You’re telling me Harry grew up with nothing and was an amazing father—minus a few spats with his son. You’re telling me Harry was able to hold it together emotionally after fighting for his life from ages 11-18 without a therapists help? You’re telling me Harry lost two father figures in the ministry of magic AND spent 7 years going through what amounted to a lesson titled “the government is corrupt” just to be a part of that government!?

Wayward son isn’t like that. Wayward Son shows us what happened to Simon afterwards, and it’s not peaches and cream. He had therapy, he quit therapy. A lot of us have been Simon on that couch, and we all needed the Baz in our life to drag us across a metaphorical America. Wayward Son is hands-down my favorite book. Realistic depictions of mental illness, check. Subverting our expectations of after the end, check. Reading it feels like taking a road trip, check.

As OP mentioned, Simon is a beloved chosen one because he’s just so wrong for the role. He’s not levelheaded where he should be, he’s bold in all the wrong places, he couldn’t possibly maintain a professional relationship with the coven. Meanwhile his super-hot enemy Baz was the absolute perfect choice to be chosen, but he was completely passed over. And part of this chalks up to how Simon became so powerful—fate isn’t twisting its whims this way and that. Simon is only chosen because he was a Petri dish experiment-gone-wrong baby. When Simon asks the fates why, really he should be asking the mage. There’s something delightful about the fact that Simon was made. The chosen one was made, and in the same process, so was the greatest threat.

De-escalation

I think it’s clear by now that Carry On is a great book, Simon Snow is an amazing series, and Rainbow Rowell sure can write. But I feel the need to point out that the end of Carry On wasn’t well-received by everyone. I recommend the series to everyone I know and some people are really disappointed you don’t get a big magical battle at the end. Some people think Simon filling in the humdrum was a cop out. But I disagree. I felt it was thrilling to witness a book where war was as stupid in fantasy land as it can be in real life. This is the first fantasy I’ve ever read where they find a better way to handle conflict than senseless fighting. It’s emotionally rewarding, to me, to see de-escalation. To see conflicts fixed before they start to be huge problems. It was a risky choice for an end, you have to admit. But Rowell pulls it off amazingly.

Nothing is Wrapped in a Bow

A day will never go by without me thinking about the fact that Simon Snow Salisbury doesn’t know who his parents are. Or how Baz will never know what exactly happened with his mother—whether she really ended herself to avoid vampirism and whether she would’ve done it to her too. We’ll never even quite understand the mage’s plan behind fix the humdrum and get an all powerful boy wizard on his side. Rowell doesn’t wrap everything up. She gives you closure as often as she gives you something to ponder. The ending of Harry Potter was so controversial, I think, because it spelled out so clearly much of what was happening. And what you didn’t learn in that epilogue, Rowling released later through Pottermore and interviews. That’s fine and dandy—but there’s something to be said for ending Simon Snow’s books with questions. Not infuriating questions but rather things that I’ll always ponder—that will shed new light on different situations depending on how I look at them. Rowell sets a precedent that you can fill in Simon’s world with your imagination while also reminding us that life doesn’t have endings. Not really, the way books to. Rowell is one of the few writers of today’s fantasy, I’d argue, who’s okay letting things go unanswered. There’s always a thread of fantasy and magic going. It’s something that will keep Simon alive in my heart for many, many years to come.

So yeah, that’s what I think about when I think about Simon Snow. It’s not nearly as coherent as the original post but I hope you enjoy it.

615 notes · View notes

thewayofthemandalorian · 3 years

Text

the long way around - epilogue

Pairing: Marcus Pike x F!Reader Rating: M Word count: 2,930 Notes: We’ve finally made it to the epilogue! I’ve loved the feedback on this fic and I want to thank everyone who’s left a comment on it. I hope you love this concluding part as much as I do! The immersive Van Gogh exhibit is a real exhibit that I highly recommend going to, it’s beautiful. Reblogs appreciated! Warnings: Non-descriptive sexual content, swearing, food mention, feelings

previous chapter || masterlist (main) || masterlist (marcus pike)

Fifteen months later…

“I need your help,” you say, standing with your back towards Marcus. You managed most of the zipper, but that last part always needed help.

Your fiancé strolls over to you, places his hands on your bare back. You lean into the warm, slightly calloused, touch of his large hands. Lowering his mouth to the base of your neck, he breathes soft kisses into your skin. “Do we have to go?” he mumbles. “I’d much prefer to stay here and… help you.”

Unable to prevent the chuckle that emerges from your lips, you say, “It’s our engagement party, Marcus Miguel Pike, at your parents house. I think we should probably make an appearance.”

Marcus turns you so that you’re facing him. He kisses you and you sigh into it. It’s been a year and a half and his touch still sends sparks racing through your veins. He smiles against your lips. “Let’s make it fashionably late,” he cajoles, moving his kisses down your throat, his fingers skimming the dress off your shoulders. It doesn’t fall far, but it still exposes your chest and bra. Marcus takes you in, looking appreciatively at you before continuing his kisses against your throat and moving down.

“I missed you,” Marcus mumbles against your skin. He’d spent the last two weeks in Miami (“goddamn hot and muggy and gross,” he’d grumbled when you’d asked him over facetime how Florida was) working an undercover case. It was the longest the two of you had spent apart in the entire year of your relationship and you both hated every minute of it. Next undercover case he’s working, you’ve decided you would go along with him, even if it meant only seeing each other very little throughout the day. He’d flown from Miami to San Antonio, where you are now, and collapsed into the hotel bed, exhausted, but allowing many hugs and kisses from you before crashing hard into sleep, waking up later than you for once this morning. “Let me make up for the lost time, baby.”

Marcus’s hair is cropped short, a requirement of the undercover operation, and his beard is light stubble. You won’t lie and say that you don’t miss the mop of hair and the fuller beard, but you also won’t lie and say that he isn’t handsome as hell any way he looks. As he locks his chocolate brown eyes into your own eyes, the look says it all. He is completely and utterly in love with you and wants to show you just how much that is.

“I suppose,” you begin, feigning contemplation as you card your fingers into his short hair, “traffic could be backed up. It is a Sunday after all.”

Marcus catches on quickly, his eyes glinting mischievously as he meets your faux-coy gaze. “Exactly. Sunday on the freeway? Bumper to bumper.” And then he kisses you.

Making quick work with the rest of the zipper on your dress, Marcus pulls it down, leaving it pooling at your feet on the floor, his lips never too far from yours as you step out of the pooled fabric and against Marcus, his need for you evident as your body comes flush with his. You’ve missed him so much these past two weeks it felt like a physical ache. “I missed you,” you murmur as Marcus leads you to the bed. Housekeeping has already come and gone while you were at the hotel restaurant for breakfast. Oh, well.

“Yeah?” Marcus breathes as you fall into the bed together. Your hands make quick work of his belt and pants. You nod as you kiss him again before helping him expedite the process of removing his shirt. He’s so soft and toned and you can’t believe you’re going to be married to this kind, funny, sweet and handsome man. That you’re going to spend the rest of your life with him.

It doesn’t take long until you’re around one another, that Marcus and you are showing your love for one another in this way. Marcus breathing into your ear words of praise about how “you take me so well, honey. You always take me so well. I love you so much.” You practically melt in his arms as you reach your peak at about the same time as him.

As you come back down from your high, hair properly mussed, makeup trashed beyond salvation, your glassy eyes look at the clock and you giggle into Marcus’s chest.

“What is it?” he asks, kissing your forehead.

You nod towards the clock on the night table. “I think we’re going to be a bit beyond fashionably late, Marcus Miguel.”

----

All things considered, you were no more than forty-five minutes past the time you said you would arrive. It’s a small dinner, just you, Marcus, and his parents John and Maria. You haven’t been engaged long. Less than a month.

You had inadvertently seen the email exchange between Marcus and John when you were ordering takeout one night. Your laptop was updating so you’d had to use the office computer, which was logged into Marcus’s personal email which is the email you use for takeout. It was the first email under the confirmation for your takeout order, subject line: Nana’s ring. You made yourself not click on it, but it was clear from the small blurb that was visible what it was about. And you could tell that Marcus was shy about asking you, having been burned before.

The conversation from dinner with Teresa and Patrick a year ago echoed in your ears. Do you want me to ask you to marry me? You did want him to ask, but you also wanted to ask him.

So, when dinner arrived, you acted cool and collected, like you hadn’t just seen what you thought you had seen and sat across from him at the dinner table. You’ve been living together almost from the beginning. You and Marcus didn’t want to waste any time. And, you were over there more than you were at your own place in the beginning anyway.

You didn’t bring it up in conversation, instead talking about this and that and how his day at work was and how you thought you might expand your career after the holidays and do arts and theatre criticism on the side. He didn’t suspect a thing, not knowing what you were going to do after dinner.

Sitting on the couch, hand in hand, under the same blanket that you had shared the night of the disastrous dinner with Teresa and Patrick, you gazed at him softly, paying more attention to him than to Casablanca, which was airing on tv.

“What’s up?” he asked during the commercial break. You reached out and cupped his cheek with your free hand. Very softly you said, “I was wondering if maybe you wanted to marry me.”

For a moment, Marcus wasn’t sure if he heard you correctly, blinking very slowly as if waking up from a dream. “For real?” he breathed. You nod, heart pounding so hard you think it might burst out of your chest.

“I’m not asking anyone else to marry me,” you joked lightly and Marcus chuckled shakily. “I love you, Marcus. And I want to spend the rest of my life with you. And we don’t need any grand gestures or over the top decadence. It’s just you and me and us.”

You had more that you wanted to say, but it was cut off by Marcus’s mouth on yours as he kissed you. “Yes,” he breathed. “Yes, of course I will.” And he pulled you into a hug, laughter and tears of joy and love intermingling with each other as you held each other.

You told him later that night that you saw his email exchange with his dad. “I didn’t snoop, I didn’t read it,” you said, “but it was there right at the top so it was hard to miss.” But Marcus didn’t mind, just held you closer to him, skin to skin.

“That’s all right,” he whispered. “The way you asked was more romantic than what I had planned, asking me to marry you during one of my favourite movies.”

“What did you have planned?” you wanted to know.

Marcus hesitated for a moment, before telling you, “I was going to take you out to dinner, make a big to do about it.”

Saying nothing, you just pressed a kiss to his shoulder and snuggled up closer against him. After a moment he spoke again. “Is it okay if you don’t have a ring until we see my parents? My dad has it.”

You nodded. “That’s fine,” you said, and considered a moment about the thought of sharing a ring with the women who broke Marcus’s heart.

Marcus must have read your thoughts because he said, “I’ve never given it to anyone before. Nana was still wearing it when I proposed to Amy, and I never gave a ring to Teresa since it was so last minute. Plus it didn’t feel right giving it to her.”

“And does it feel right? Y’know, giving it to me?” you asked. Marcus’s answering gaze was all the confirmation you needed.

You smile as you think back to the night three weeks ago when you got engaged to Marcus. You still don’t have the engagement ring, but that is soon to be rectified.

The front door swings open as soon as you step out of the car. It’s Mrs. Pike. “You’re here!” she beams, pulling Marcus in for a hug.

“Hi, Mom,” he says as he hugs her back before she turns to you. You and she have met a few times, but this is the first time you’ve met as Marcus’s fiancée.

She hugs you, too, and whispers in your ear, “I knew it would be you.” And you can’t help but smile. You’ve heard horror stories about mothers-in-law not getting along with their sons wives, but you don’t think this will be the case. John Pike comes out then and greets you both.

“We were expecting you about an hour ago!” he says. Maria Pike rolls her eyes dramatically at her husband. “Oh, John. Do you not remember when I met your parents after we became engaged? We were an hour late to that dinner and I lived two blocks away!” She winks in your direction, knowing exactly why you and Marcus are late and you giggle. Yep, you and her are going to have no issues at all.

“How was Miami?” asks John as you all make your way into the house and into the living room. Marcus groans and grumbles something about alligators.

“Wasn’t his favourite place he’s ever been undercover,” you say, squeezing his hand sympathetically.

“It’s up there with the time I had to go to Texas for the deposition after Teresa and I—”

Maria interrupts. “Don’t mention that woman’s name,” she says, still angry about the way she treated Marcus. That makes two of you.

Marcus chuckles awkwardly, clearing his throat. “Anyway. Glad that I’m done there.” He turns his attention to his father. “Dad,” he says. “You got the, uh, thing that we talked about?” John nods, tapping his pocket before pulling out a velvet box.

“So, do you have any plans while you’re here?” asks Maria.

You nod. “We’re only here for another night after tonight but tomorrow we’re going to the Van Gogh exhibit, you know the immersive one?”

Maria nods enthusiastically. “Yes, John and I went just last weekend and I think you are really going to love it.”

“I love Vincent van Gogh,” you say fondly. “He’s my favourite artist.” Maria hums in agreement. You miss the flicker of anticipation in Marcus’s eyes as he puts the ring box in his pocket while you and Maria talk about different things.

Dinner is lovely; Marcus’s parents are kind and caring people, genuinely happy that he’s found the one. You get along well with both of them, which you can tell makes Marcus happy. Seeing Marcus happy makes you happy. You’re so happy with Marcus, so happy it seems like a dream.

----

“You haven’t given me the ring yet,” you comment with your toothbrush in your mouth. Marcus is lounging in the hotel bed, reading a book. He says nothing for a minute. Then, “Don’t worry, I’ll give it to you soon.”

Spitting your toothpaste into the sink and rinsing your mouth, you turn the bathroom light off, followed by the big light at the hotel room door, leaving just the bedside lamp. You curl up into bed next to Marcus who merely flips a page and yawns. “I’m still so tired.”

You smooth a hand over his light stubble. “You look tired,” you say. A quick glance at the clock tells you it’s just after 9:30. It’s a bit earlier than usual to be going to sleep for you, but the flight yesterday still has you a little bit jet-lagged. You look at Marcus again, who’s struggling to keep his eyes open. “Marcus, my love. You’re falling asleep. Let’s go to bed,” you say with a kiss to his cheek. You cuddle into him, his warmth.

He agrees almost instantly.

It’s strange wearing lighter pajamas in January. It’s not boiling hot this time of year in Texas, but it’s certainly a lot warmer than Washington is right now; it was snowing when your plane took off. Marcus is just in a t-shirt and some boxers. But he’s a human furnace so he’s always warm. Which is nice for you. You missed this the past two weeks. “G’night,” Marcus mumbles against your sleep shirt, already halfway asleep. “Love you.” Every night without fail, the last thing he says before going to sleep is that he loves you.

The next morning, Marcus is up before you. As you wake up, you notice that your husband-to-be is not in bed. There’s a note on his pillow:

You looked so peaceful sleeping, I didn’t want to wake you up. I’m just going to get us a coffee and I’ll be back soon. I love you, Marcus

You smile at the note, written in his blocky letters, before you stretch out in bed. Before you can get up, the hotel door opens and Marcus comes in, carrying two Starbucks cups. “Good morning, beautiful,” he says, putting your coffee down on the night table before giving you a kiss.

“Morning, handsome,” you reply. You cannot wait to be married to this man.

“There’s this breakfast restaurant that I wanna take you to,” Marcus says as you sip on your coffees. You nod, waiting for him to say it. “They make some of the best pancakes.” There it is. You smile to yourself. Some things never change.

True to Marcus’s word, they are really good pancakes. You have a bite or two of them and they’re delicious. Your food is good, too. “Are you feeling better?” you ask. Marcus nods around a bite of pancake.

“Next time I’ll come with you,” you promise.

After breakfast, it’s time for you to go to the exhibit. Marcus and you had had the tickets since before you were engaged, the trip was always planned, as was dinner with his parents, but since you are engaged, it made the trip a little more special.

Marcus is excited. Not just for the exhibit, but for something else. He’s had something planned for a while and although you had already asked him, there was no harm in asking again. Walking hand-in-hand, you make your way up the steps of the art gallery. It’s quiet, typical for a Monday morning in January.

The exhibit is nothing short of beautiful, using the space as a canvas to display Van Gogh’s artwork along with music. A few times, you’re moved to tears at the beauty and wonder of it. You can tell that Marcus is affected similarly to you by it.

Then, his hand isn’t in yours anymore, he’s not standing next to you. Instead, he’s kneeling down on one knee in front of you, the ring box in his hand. He whispers your name.

“Marcus, what —?”

“I love you. You’re the love of my life. And I know we’re already engaged and that you asked me, and I’m so happy that you did. But I always keep a promise. And I promised that I would ask you to marry me fifteen months ago at that dinner with Lisbon and Jane.” Tears are beginning to form in your eyes as Marcus continues. “I’ve loved you forever, and I know we took the long way around to get here, and that this isn’t necessarily conventional, but when the hell have we ever been conventional?” You give a watery laugh as he takes the ring out of the box, slipping it onto your finger. “So will you do me the honour of marrying me?”

You kneel down as well so that you’re at eye level with Marcus. “Yes,” you say, unable to keep in your joyful tears or laughter. “Of course I will, yes.”

Marcus envelops you in his arms, kissing you soundly. You stay kneeling with him for a few moments before standing up. You’re so incandescently happy and full of love for your fiancé.

And it’s true that nothing with Marcus was conventional. But you wouldn’t have it any other way. You and Marcus may have taken the long way around to get here, but you got here all the same.

The End.

-- taglist in reblog

#marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x you #marcus pike #pedro pascal

193 notes · View notes

mercy-burning · 3 years

Text

Laundry Day

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Reader and Spencer meet again in the laundry room and decide to have some fun. PART 1 / PART 2 / PART 3 / PART 4 / EPILOGUE Category: Smut 18+ (oral sex- male and female receiving, unprotected penetrative sex, slight exhibitionism?/potential of getting caught, slight degradation) Warnings: sex, language. (As always, if there’s anything I missed, let me know what I should include in warnings. I want to be as mindful as I can about what I post. Thank you!) Word Count: 3k

Note: Surprise!! I was going to wait to post this on Saturday but Taylor Swift had me feeling like dropping a surprise, what can I say? 😂 Anyway, I wasn’t going to make another part to Pretty Please, but for one thing, it did way better than I was expecting, so thank you all for your kind comments and tags! And also, @rainsong01 mentioned something that gave me an idea for a laundry room scenario, so you can thank them for this one! I had so much fun writing this and I hope you like it! Thanks for all the love! 🥰

***

Y/N hated laundry day.

There was nothing more boring to her than loading clothes into the washer, waiting, then loading them into the dryer, waiting, and then folding them and putting them away, not to mention the laundry room was kind of dingy and felt like being in a gross, scary basement.

Thankfully though, years of living in the same building had given Y/N a pretty decent schedule of when the laundry room was empty. It wasn't like she disliked talking to people, but laundry made her cranky enough, and the last thing she wanted was human interaction, making small talk with building residents that acted like they cared to know about everyone else's business.

So it was Friday night, 7 pm, which meant that depending on if she had to work, the only other person in the laundry room would be Olivia from down the hall, someone Y/N had only had a few conversations with, either in the laundry room or on the way out the door.

She walked in, silently thanking the laundry gods after hearing complete and utter silence as she made her way to the washer and dryer to the far left of the room. Then she reached into her pocket and realized she forgot her phone. Cursing, she settled on basking in the silence as she loaded her clothes in the washer one by one, at least grateful that no one would be bothering her with pointless small talk.

Until she heard the door open, as if the laundry gods decided they were angry at her. She tried not to outwardly groan, hoping that whoever it was would just say, "Hello," and leave it at that. Or better yet, not say anything at all and let her do her own thing. So she closed the washer and entered the quarters, knowing that it would be a long ten minutes. She could have went back upstairs to her apartment and waited there if she really wanted to, or grabbed her phone at least, but it felt like it would have been pointless, and so she just hoped it wouldn't be awkward.

Maybe I'll just go walk around the building aimlessly for 10 minutes.

But the laundry gods had other plans, apparently.

"Y/N?"

She turned around and saw none other than Spencer Reid, clutching a large cloth bag, presumably filled with laundry.

"Spencer? Hi," Y/N greeted, a small blush forming on her cheeks. The two of them hadn't really talked since their... escapade about a month ago. Most of the time Spencer was at work, but whenever he was home there hadn't been anymore thin wall scenarios or overhearing something she shouldn't. They'd seen each other in the hallway a few times, winking as they passed, but that was it. Y/N had to wonder if maybe it was just a once-in-a-lifetime thing, being absolutely fucked into oblivion by your neighbor so good that you couldn't walk for two days.

Thinking about it made her cheeks burn hotter, so she cleared her throat and only slightly avoided eye contact. "I thought you did your laundry on Sundays?"

Spencer shrugged, walking over to the machine set next to hers. "Normally I would, but I just got back from work and I needed clean clothes. It's... pretty empty in here right now."

"Oh. Yeah, that's why I do my laundry on Friday nights whenever I can. Everyone's either out or staying in relaxing. Laundry's already boring enough, right, who needs annoying small talk?"

He laughed, opening the washer and putting in some of his clothes. "Touché."

Y/N wasn't really sure what to say after that, so she sat on top of the washer and crossed her legs, swinging them a little as she waited.

"Look, I know you've already given your stance on annoying small talk, but... What are your plans for the weekend?" Spencer asked, and she turned her head to meet his gaze, immediately feeling butterflies in her stomach.

"Um... Not a lot, really. Other than some grocery shopping and a few other small errands, I was going to have dinner with my mom on Sunday for her birthday. We might have to cancel though because she might have to go into work, but we'll see... What about you?"

He shook his head. "I don't have anything planned unless I get called into work either."

"Oh... Well, if you ever feel like having some company, you know where I live," she joked.

Spencer laughed. "I might just have to take you up on that. Things at work have been kind of... stressful."

Despite her better judgement, she smirked. "I seem to recall a similar conversation between the two of us not that long ago, Bud. You're not trying to fuck me again, are you?"

She just couldn't help herself. Admittedly she was a little worried she was too forward, but in the end it paid off, because he turned to look at her, shutting the washer and grabbing quarters from his pocket. "Would it be so wrong of me if I wanted to?"

The low tone of his voice made Y/N clench her legs tighter together, her mind racing with all the things that could happen in the next few days, the next few minutes even... She thought back to the last time he'd fucked her, seeing his face between her legs as he completely unraveled her. She felt herself growing wet at the thought.

"Absolutely not," she finally managed to respond. She hoped he would come over to her in a few long strides, pulling her in and kissing her right there, but instead he simply said, "Hmm," and turned back to his machine, putting in quarters.

He could have been playing games with her again, but she didn't want to take the chance. So she grew bolder and leaned back on her hands, puffing out her chest to the air and tilting her head to the side, letting her hair fall and exposing her neck to him. "Well, we have some time to spare, babe. What do you say we make the most of it?"

She was genuinely surprised to see him blush and freeze in his tracks, fumbling with the last few quarters as he inserted them into the machine and started the timer. "R-right now?"

"Duh," she replied, giggling.

"Somebody could come in... O-or hear us." A twinge of worry dripped from every syllable as he spoke, and though Y/N's first instinct was to apologize for suggesting it and letting it go, she thought better of it after remembering what got them into this situation in the first place.

So she scoffed. "Oh, please. You weren't the least bit worried about someone hearing us before. Y'know... When you promised to fuck me so hard I would scream your name and everyone could hear, and then I did? And besides, even if someone walked in right now, they'd probably just leave and come back later. People probably have sex with each other in here all the time."

"I doubt that, this place is filthy. Hardly the right setting for something so... intimate," he replied more clearly, obviously trying to win this argument. Though, something told Y/N he really was a little bothered about how dirty the laundry room was.

She shook her head. "You and I both know that what we did wasn't intimate. It was downright filthy, so if anything it works perfectly for where we are."

"Y/N, I don't know..." He chewed on his bottom lip and shuffled on his feet, refusing to look at her.

"Well, I'm not gonna force you to do anything you don't want to do, obviously, but... You can trust me. I've been doing my laundry here basically every Friday night since I moved here, and since Olivia is working tonight, she won't be here, and neither will anyone else."

"Well, I showed up, didn't I? Anything could happen."

She sighed, a little tired of arguing but still wanting to win. Her body tingled and practically ached at the sight of him, needing to feel his touch yet again. Maybe it was slightly pathetic, but if there was just the slightest chance that he would fuck her like that again, she had to try her damnedest.

So she had another trick up her sleeve, silently praying to the laundry gods that they would take pity on her and grant her this one thing. "You're right, but don't you think that you coming down here just moments after me was bound to happen? Like after everything we've experienced, we were always meant to have a quickie in the laundry room of our apartment building?"

He genuinely seemed to think about it for a moment before shrugging his shoulders. "Truthfully I think it's more of a coincidence than anything that we showed up here at the same time."

There's your chance, Y/N, don't fuck it up, she thought to herself, hoping that with the seductive tone in her voice and the puppy dog look in her eye, it would be enough to get her what she wanted. "I was joking. Of course it's a coincidence, I just want you to fuck me."

He only stayed silent, fiddling with his hands and his eyes flicking between her and the floor before he caught her eye. In another attempt to entice him, Y/N batted her eyes and slowly spread her legs wide, scooting back a little so she could rest her heels on the top of the washer. "Don't you want to fuck me into the washing machine, baby?"

That was the last straw, the thing that pushed Spencer over the edge. He whispered, "Fuck it," to himself before striding over to her and cradling her face in his hands, bringing her to him and kissing her hard. She initially yelped at how harsh he was, but after a second she melted into him, leaning forward and bringing him closer.

She tried to wrap her legs around his torso, but he grabbed them by the ankles and kept them spread open, pulling away to look into her eyes. "Keep 'em open, pretty girl." The old nickname made her whimper, just like he knew it would, and his gaze burned into hers hotly for a few seconds before he bent down, kissing her inner thigh just below the hem of her shorts. She sighed as he trailed his lips and tongue along every inch of skin, switching to the other leg and giving it the same attention until he was ready for more.

Rather than pulling off her shorts and underwear, Spencer simply pushed the fabrics aside and immediately licked a long, flat strip up her pussy, to which Y/N sharply inhaled and reached out, grabbing his hair. He explored her just as thoroughly as he had the last time, his fervor unmatched and absolutely intoxicating as he pushed himself closer and closer, practically living between her legs. Due to the short time constraint and fear of getting caught, he didn't waste time teasing her, and he seemed determined to finish before the buzzing of the washer signaled clean clothes.

Naturally though, he couldn't not tease her, so just as she was about to finish with his lips wrapped around her clit, he pulled away and left her breathless and frustrated.

"Really? We're doing this again?" she huffed, pouting.

Spencer unbuckled his belt and raised his eyebrow. "All in due time, sweetheart. Come here."

Unsurprisingly, she did what she was told, jumping off the washer and waiting further instructions. It didn't take long for Spencer to move, only a few seconds passing by before he turned her around and pushed her against the washer, to which she instinctively bent her torso over it. She gripped the sides of it tightly as he ran his hands up her shirt and caressed her back, eventually using one hand to grip her waist and the other to lift her leg up, setting it on the washer. She readjusted, reaching her hands forward to grip the top of it as he slid his hand down her leg and toyed with the fabric of her shorts.

"Listen carefully," he said, causing Y/N's heart to pound harder in her chest. "I'm clean. Are you?"

"Yes," she stated simply, loud and clear, though adding a hint of desperation as to hopefully speed the process along. She knew this communication was important, but damn if she didn't just want to be railed into next week already.

"Birth control?"

She swallowed nervously, hoping it wouldn't change his mind. "I'm not on it."

"Noted," is all he said, before deftly moving her shorts and underwear to the side and slamming into her with no warning. She yelped, leaning her head back as he pounded into her, the cold metal of the washing machine digging into her skin. It was the best kind of painful pleasure, only made better when he gripped her hair into a makeshift ponytail and yanked her to him, deepening his angle inside of her and hitting that sweet spot every time.

"Spencer, I'm..." She could barely breathe, and she loved it, already feeling herself start to unravel.

"Close already, pretty girl?" he purred in her ear, right before pressing a wet kiss to her neck as he craned her head to the side for better access. "Figures... You've always been so easy to please. Such a good, needy little slut for me, huh?"

Y/N groaned at the new name, and it spurred him forward, encouraging him to push them both further into the washing machine as he moved his hips harder. "Please," she gasped, only seconds away from losing herself.

"Tell me what you want," he growled in her ear.

She squeezed her eyes shut and spoke as clearly as she could, not caring how loud she was being. "I wanna cum! Please, Spencer, please!"

"Do it," he grunted, giving her a few more deep, purposeful thrusts to aid in her high. "I got you, pretty girl." That's what did it for her. She yelled out as her body tensed and her walls fluttered around him, everything absolutely burning and blinding until eventually she was spent.

Spencer held himself inside of her for a few seconds, bringing himself closer to the edge before he roughly pulled out and away, leaving Y/N empty and alone. She was tired as hell and completely fucked out, but still she wanted more than anything to help him, ever the needy little slut, as he'd so eloquently called her. So she turned around, peeling herself away from the washing machine and dropping to her knees in front of him, not waiting for him to say anything.

She promptly leaned forward and wrapped her mouth around his cock, wasting no time hollowing her cheeks and setting a fast pace sucking him off. It had somewhat taken him by surprise, but he welcomed it, gathering her hair away from her face and watching as she went to work, practically worshipping the ground he stood on. Eventually she pushed herself all the way forward, allowing him to hit the back of her throat. Instead of pulling back to breathe, she held herself there and gagged, looking up at him with tears in her eyes before removing herself, taking two deep breaths, and going right back to work.

"Look at you," he mused, his voice barely there but with enough volume that allowed Y/N to hear him. "You look so good, pathetic and choking on my cock. Such a good fucking girl, fuck—"

In no time he was gripping her hair tighter and his breathing started to falter. Y/N held herself still as he came in her mouth, most of it hitting the back of her throat and all of it coating her tongue. She moaned around him, blinking tears away and running her hands over his ass until he pulled away from her and let go of her hair.

Standing up, Y/N swallowed most of his cum but purposely let some of it spill out of her mouth and down her chin, to which she used her middle finger to scoop it up and slide it back into her mouth. She kept eye contact with him the whole time, watching as his tongue flicked over his bottom lip before he bit it softly.

Once she was done cleaning herself up, Y/N ran a hand through her hair and smiled. "See, that wasn't bad at all. No trouble."

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure the only trouble is you. Eavesdropping, making me fuck you in a semi-public place, et cetera..." He laughed as he pulled his pants up and re-adjusted himself as though nothing had happened.

"Don't act like you don't like it," Y/N teased, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing a deep kiss to his lips. He laughed against them, pulling her closer by her waist and resting his hands there when she pulled away.

As if to signal the end of their... whatever they were going to call it, Y/N's washer buzzed and she turned around to attend to her laundry. As she transferred the clothes from the washer to the dryer, Spencer came up behind her and brushed the hair away from her neck.

"You know, I wasn't trying to be mean or anything when I... called you a slut. I would never want to be mean to you or anything, and I'm sorry if that made you uncomfortable."

Y/N almost laughed, amused again by how dominant he was during sex but then immediately a big 'ol softie once it was over. It was such a fun contrast, and truthfully, as much as she loved his dominant side, she wanted to see more of his softer one. So she turned around to meet him and caressed his cheek, smiling kindly. "I know you don't mean it to be mean. It was hot. And I appreciate you checking up on me, it's sweet. You're sweet."

Before he could say anything, his washer buzzed. So he settled on leaning forward, kissing her cheek, and walking away to do his laundry.

The two of them worked in silence for a while, just enjoying each other's company until they realized they both had to wait for the dryer. 20 minutes.

"Round two?" he asked her with a mischievous grin.

Y/N returned it and took a step towards him when the door opened, laundry gods be damned.

"Oh, hey guys!" Olivia from down the hall chirped as she walked in, striding to her own station.

At least they had the rest of the weekend.

#spencer reid smut #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid

1K notes · View notes