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s-awturn · 4 months ago

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Us, again || CS55

summary: Abandoned in a strange country, with no money, friends or family and a positive pregnancy test, Y/N finds herself on the brink of unprecedented chaos. There is no one she can count on, except her ex best friend, who she didn't want to have to turn to.

cw: conflict, abandonment, crying crisis and mention of an anxiety attack. Old conflict, nostalgia, separation, problem solving, relationship to be established, ex-friends to lovers. Extreme cuteness

a/n: I wanted to start something like this, and Carlos and Toto are always my favorites for angst and this plot arose especially for the grid's smooth operator. And I articulated the details of the story while reading "my tears ricochet" by @spngi and it's no secret to anyone that I'm a drama girl, so be aware that this is going to be a lot of drama, something cute and sweet, we'll see how it turns out.

a/n¹: notes: oh my god, this took so long to finish, I almost gave up when Tumblr lost everything I had ever written (I almost cried) after four attempts, three days, I finally finished it, anyway, I hope you like it, yay!

Freely inspired by Taylor Swift's "cardigan".

“I knew you'd haunt all of my what-ifs / The smell of smoke would hang around this long / 'Cause I knew everything when I was young / I knew I'd curse you for the longest time”

"This isn't happening, Y/N, Don't fucking fuck with me! This isn't happening!" I hear Aaron's raised voice as he walks through the hotel room, in my hands, an urgent ultrasound and a pregnancy test with a static "positive" on the test screen. "I can't be a father now!"

"I also didn't choose to be a mother now, Aaron, much less did I make this child alone!" I respond, equally upset and stand in front of him, I would never let him, or any man in the world, get above me.

"So it's decided, we will have the abortion" he says as if it were simple, and my mind spins in a huge spiral, I don't know if abortion is an option for me, much less in a strange country and in circumstances like this. "Ireland guarantees the right to abortion, we can do it today, hopefully!"

Aaron holds my arms tightly and shakes me lightly, trying to convince me. I move away from him as if I had been shocked and stop in the other corner of the suite, looking at him as if he were a stranger.

"I'm not going to have an abortion, much less in a foreign country! I cannot and will not decide this overnight, Aaron!" I speak and I see him become more exasperated and veins grow on his forehead, a sign of stress.

"You've got to be fucking kidding," he complains, and I don't like the glazed look he's giving me. "You can't decide? Y/N, fuck, we have plans, we start our trip now and you can’t decide?”

"No, we're talking about my body! Whether I carry this pregnancy forward or not, is my decision!" My voice echoes in the room and Aaron sighs, I feel a bad shiver running up my spine when I see my boyfriend's green eyes go dark.

"You're right, it's your decision, it's your body..." He rests his hands on his hips, breathing deeply "let's sleep, we'll go back to London and talk better"

I nod and change into comfortable pajamas. The test and ultrasound are forgotten on the table. All around us, the strange tension and feeling of something wrong only allow me to sleep much later than I would like. Aaron falls asleep as soon as he hits the pillow.

-- ♡ --

I wake up as the sun escapes the translucent curtains, my body hurts like I've been hit by a truck. I barely open my eyes and my intuition kicks in and I sit up so quickly that my muscles groan with pain, there is no sign of Aaron, his bags are not in their place, I jump out of bed and open the safe, I only find my passport, torn up, in fact. No sign of my cards or the money we brought for the trip.

Tears burn my eyes as the truth crashes down on my head.

Aaron abandoned me in Ireland, alone, without money and with my documents torn up, he destroyed me. I start to hyperventilate, there's no one I can ask for help, no one to rescue me, I'm alone in a country I don't even know. My boyfriend left me, alone, pregnant, without money or any fucking support.

"Son of a bitch!" I scream and collapse on the floor, crying without stopping, I should have followed my instincts, but I trusted that he would never do something like that to me, I trusted his feelings. I was such a idiot! It takes me a few minutes to recover, taking deep breaths with my left hand on my flat stomach.

"I'll find a way to get us out of this, baby, I promise" my voice shakes and I try to stop crying. "Your stupid mom will find a way, we'll be fine soon"

After forty minutes between "I'll fix this" and "Oh my God, I'm fucked", I call the hotel reception, and I have the excellent news that my stay is guaranteed for another eight days, a Since Aaron — my stupid fucking ex — we paid before we left. At least I have a guaranteed roof over my head for a week, with food and clean clothes, I wouldn't be completely homeless.

My parents passed away years ago, my friends walked away from me when I started dating Aaron, which means I'm fucking alone.

A new bout of crying chokes my throat and I'm tired of being strong, I can't believe that stupid man left me and stole my money. I feel so, so destroyed. I face the test and the ultrasound, I wanted my mother to be here, I wanted her to comfort me and tell me everything would be okay.

Five days later.

"Wow, really? One hundred and fifty euros for a new passport? I don't have that money!" my hope dies as soon as I understand how bad my situation is. "I have the police report, isn't that worth anything?"

"I can check with my superiors, but it will take at least two weeks, Miss L/N"

"Two weeks? I can't afford to stay here for two weeks, I have no money!" My voice shakes and I suppress the urge to cry.

"It's the best I can do, Miss"

"Well, thank you then..." I thank you grudgingly and hang up. It's been five days since Aaron left, in the meantime, I've sunk into so much self-pity that I'm sharing the rent with Samara. I've swallowed my pride the last few days and called some old friends, but all the calls went to voicemail, and that doesn't surprise me.

What did I expect? That they would welcome me with open arms after I turned my back on everyone? How I was deceived;

My reservation will expire in three days, and then I will literally be in the gutter of Dublin, with no chance of returning to London, all the disappointment turns my stomach and brings on the disgusting feeling of sickness, I only have time to run to the bathroom and vomit my breakfast into the toilet. I don't know if it's a symptom of pregnancy or if it's a consequence of the horrible situation I'm in. I brush my teeth and go back to the room, going straight to the suite's balcony and facing the view of the city, I hope Dublin's landscape makes me forget how bad everything is around me. Sitting on the lounge chair, looking at the azaleas on the balcony wall, she absently ran her fingers over her belly; If you asked me a few days ago if I wanted to be pregnant, my answer would have been a giant "no", but now, I feel anxious about the little things.

Looking forward to buying the baby's clothes, choosing the color of the room or making a list of names, nothing will be easy, I know, but I will make it work, even with all the difficulties and problems, I will strive to be a good mother, and a father too if necessary.

"You didn't come at a good time, little one, but I promise I'll do everything I can for you" I murmur, trying to be confident and find some way out. There are no more tears to cry, there's no more pain to suffer so I'm not going to waste any more energy on it, fuck Aaron, I'm capable of taking care of everything, I just need some time, but I'll make it. I remain on the balcony until the end of the afternoon, when the hotel reception calls me, letting me know that dinner is already served, the mention of food makes me salivate with hunger, in the same way that it shakes my stomach in previous waves of nausea. "I need energy to sort things out for us, little one, so you can let mommy keep the food down today, huh?”

I talk to my stomach as I look for my cell phone in the mess on the bed, ignoring the pieces of my passport, otherwise I would have a tantrum and be able to get to England by swimming. I greet some guests, who ask me how I am and if the baby is already giving me trouble, and they also ask me if I managed to solve the passport problem. These same guests found out about this when they found me in tears at the reception, sympathizing with the situation I was in.

"We're fine, he's already deciding what he likes to eat, and avocado toast isn't on the list" I say laughing as we go downstairs. The restaurant is not that crowded, most guests prefer to dine in local restaurants and pubs, so most of the seats were vacant, the process of serving my food and choosing the table furthest from the air conditioning takes less than ten minutes. The food on my plate is almost gone when I'm drawn to the call of an Irish sports program, they were going to rebroadcast the Monaco GP qualifying, with comments from the commentators. I don't even notice the time passing, I end up staying there in the restaurant as the guests leave and say goodbye to me, and my heart starts racing like a rocket when the camera focuses on Carlos Sainz.

"I haven't heard anything from him since... Oh, it's been so long..." I murmur, resting my chin in my hands, hoping he can get a good position. Even though I haven't been to the races for some time, I still know how things work and I also know that Monaco is a difficult circuit. I can't help but be thrilled when he gets P2, it was quite an achievement! This leads me to wonder if he still keeps the same phone number.

Can Carlos help me... I know I'm being selfish, but I have no one else to turn to, and I'm about to despair. We were friends until one of his girlfriends decided that there was no more room in Carlos' life for me, until she decided that I could no longer come between them, not that I would, I always wanted my best friend to be happy, with whoever he was, and what hurt the most was Carlos agreeing with her and cutting me out of his life. Carlos was my best friend.

"It doesn't hurt to try, I already have the 'no'" I murmur, sliding my finger across my cell phone while I look for his phone. With my heart racing, I press "call" and wait and at the height of my anxiety, I count the seconds until he answers. Thirty seconds until I hear Carlos' familiar voice.

"Hello?" He says and I can't hold back my tears, like an emotional idiot.

"Carlos?"

"Y/N? Is that really you?" He looks as surprised as I am.

"Well yes, it's me" I give a choked laugh, the tears are blocking my nose, soon I'll be exhausted. "I know we're not friends anymore, Carlos, but I need your help... I don't would bother you if it wasn't necessary"

I hear the sound of a door closing and a strong accent complaining in what I think is French.

"You would never bother me, how can I help you, cielo?"

And then I talk, I say everything that's happening, my sobs make me cry in some parts, the hormones are already in an uproar, apparently. Carlos listens to me without interrupting once, and if I know him well, I know he's messing up his hair and frowning like he always does when he's concentrating.

"I wouldn't be calling if I weren't desperate, Carlos..."

"Calm down, calm down, you did well in the place, cielo, I won't be able to go, of course, but you'll be home soon, I promise" he says, there are no signs of hesitation in his voice and It comforts me in a way I can never explain. I hear the sound of drawers opening and a sheet of paper being torn apart "give me the address of the hotel, I won't be able to go, because of the rush, but I will send my advisor to take care of everything, don't worry, bien?"

"Thank you, thank you so much! I can't even tell you how grateful I am" I speak emotionally and give the hotel address next to the phone, in case I don't answer.

"There's no need to thank me, cielo, I would never leave you helpless, never" he assures me and I feel eighteen again, sitting on the sidewalk outside my house with him, the two of us eating ice cream and talking about his season. Oh God, I missed him so much.

"Congratulations on P2, you were great" I say sincerely, Carlos is a great driver and I know how much he works every day, I don't need to be with him to know, he is very obstinate.

"Oh, did you watch it? Thanks, Y/N"

We stay silent on the line, sharing our breaths until I break.

"I don't have enough words to thank you, Carlos, but thank you, you saved me" I say, swallowing the lump that suddenly appeared in my throat. "I need to sleep now... Good luck in the race tomorrow, I'll be rooting for you"

"Thank you cielo, have a good night" he says and we remain on the call until I hang up. Carlos and I have always shared silence, staying silent has never been a problem between us. When I lock myself in my room, all the weight of that day falls on me like a stone, I take a hot shower and lie down, tormented by memories.

"You don't call me anymore, so I came to see you, your mother told me you were here" I say, entering his room, something we always did, Carlos and I always went to each other's houses.

"Well, I didn't return your call for a reason" he said and I saw Isabella, his current girlfriend come out of the bathroom, wearing one of his shirts. "We'll talk later, Y/N"

“You never call me Y/N, what’s wrong, cielo?”

"We can't be friends anymore" He says it without pity, harshly and even cruelly.

"Huh? Why? Because of Isabella?"

"Isabella has nothing to do with this" he says quickly, standing in front of his girlfriend, Isabella puts on shorts and says she will give us privacy, I don't even look at her face, keeping his eyes on Carlos. "your feelings do!"

"What the fuck are you talking about, Carlos?! My feelings? Are you crazy?

"I heard your conversation with Blanca" he confesses and I feel my heart stop, he shouldn't have... "Don't make me say, Y/N, So spare us the humiliation of having to break your heart over feelings that should never exist, because you know, we would never have anything."

I could call him names, fight him, or do anything else, but I just nodded and took off the friendship bracelet we had made last summer. A stupid symbol of our bond, which no longer exists.

"I think you're right, I hope you're immensely happy, cielo and that you can achieve everything you dream of" I leave the bracelet on his desk before leaving the room. I say goodbye to Mrs. Sainz and Blanca, Carlos' sister apologizes, she didn't know he was listening. "It's my fault, there's no need to apologize"

I said goodbye to them, aware that it would be the last time we would see each other like that, I had been accepted at a university in England and with the death of my parents, nothing kept me in Spain anymore. Except only for Carlos.

But not anymore, that was the last time I spoke to Carlos.

My heart jumps when I wake up, I feel my face wet and I confirm that just like in the memories, I cried. I really had feelings for Carlos, but I was willing to ignore them if it meant having my best friend with me, I didn't care if he was dating or anything, I just needed him, I didn't have anyone else, feelings that shouldn't have even arisen. I didn't want to ask him for help, but I knew I would never have the courage to ask Blanca, Reyes or Mr. Carlos, so I had to swallow my pride and call him.

I'm still looking at the hotel ceiling, thinking about the floodgate that Carlos opened in me, with just one phone call. I thought I was over it, that the hurt and resentment were gone. As for the mistake, I was as hurt and resentful as years ago, it still hurt as if it had been done yesterday. My daydreams are interrupted by a call from an unknown number, I answer and make the mistake of answering while yawning.

"I'm sorry, please, I just woke up" I ask before hearing the person, who laughs, I would recognize that laugh anywhere, even in a crowd. "Carlos"

"Sorry for waking you up, cielo" he says and I feel my skin itch, the nickname takes me back to good days, where everything was sweet and full of dreams.

"Relax, I literally just woke up. Is everything okay?"

"Yes, yes everything is fine, I just called to let you know that there will be a car to pick you up at one o'clock in the afternoon, you will be taken to a private flying field straight to London" he says, I hear the buzz of the pitlane in the background, lots of shouting in Italian and the uproar of the crowd. The race would start soon. "Is everything okay with you, cielo? Can you get it ready in time?"

"Yes, definitely yes, I didn't want to bother you, Carlos, especially before a race."

"Ah" he clicked his tongue, dismissing my apology "it's no big deal, I promised I would take you home and I will, there will be a car at the private airport to take you home, just give your address to the driver, and don't worry about paying anything, you only need to worry about eating and resting during the trip, as for your passport, I scheduled a time for you to get a new copy of your document, in three days, you will receive a memo on your cell phone."

My throat constricted, well here I am feeling like crying again, these hormones are still going to make me dehydrated from crying, or my tears would dry up at some point.

"You're being a guardian angel for me, Carlos, I'll never thank you enough" I murmur hoarsely, swallowing the tears.

"Oh no, no please, don't cry, you know I never know how to deal with your tears" he says and I know he's despairing, which makes me laugh and sniffle, in a strange way that I know I've never done before "I'm not doing anything much, if with all this money, I can't do something simple like take you home, what is all this for?"

"I know, thank you very, very much... I'll pack my bags and have coffee, you'll do well in this race, I know that" I say quickly and hang up before it gets awkward, or rather, weirder.

The following hours are a mess, checking in at the hotel, the journey to the runway and much of the flight are done with my mind on standby, I could only think about how betrayed I felt by Aaron's attitude, how I needed to swallow my pride and ask for help from someone I swore I wouldn't see again. The Earth turned several times until it threw me into Carlos Sainz's life once again. I sink into the armchair looking at the fluffy clouds through the window.

"I said I would find a way, little one, and we're going home now. Maybe you'll question my methods in the future, but not my results" I laugh at my own joke and I let my hands rest on my belly, I suddenly feel anxious to see it bigger, Being a mother was not a goal for the next five years, I'm not at all prepared for motherhood, but I don't know how to describe the panic that gripped my heart when Aaron suggested the interruption. I have a stable job, which allows me to work from home and a flexible schedule, I have a small apartment, but with an extra room for the baby and well, I decided to move on. I already feel very connected to the baby, and there is a break in the loneliness that I have felt for years, it is good not to feel alone.

My cell phone rings the moment I turn the key in the lock, Carlos' name flashes on the display and I answer it while trying to push my bags inside.

"The driver just told you he dropped you off at home, did everything go well? Were the flight attendants kind to you?"

"Yes, yes, everything was fine, Carlos, the flight attendants are really cute, I was treated very well, you can put your weapons away" I breathe a sigh of relief as I sit down on my sofa, finally away from all that hell I went through in Dublin.

"That's good, cielo, I've been worried about you all day"

I don't know what to answer, I don't know what Carlos expects from me after all these years, after so much distance.

"I'm glad you're home and well, cielo, I'll let you rest now"

Another time, we are silent on the call until I ask "did you win?"

“It was Charles' home race, my job was to make sure he won, but I got second place” he says, there's a certain 'job done' tone in his voice. "I'm happy with today's result"

"That's good, I'm happy for you, and for your teammate" I say sincerely.

"Thank you, that matters a lot... Anyway, rest okay? You can't sleep late anymore, take care cielo, call me for whatever you need, anything, don't hesitate" he says with such firmness that It almost makes me uncomfortable, so we hang up. I don't know if Carlos is back in my life and I don't know if I'm okay with that. It's so confusing, but I don't need to deal with it right now, I have more important things to take care of.

Almost two weeks later, I got a new passport, applied for new cards and was being monitored by an obstetrician. Luckily I didn't run into Aaron a single day, I changed the locks, I threw his things in the trash and made my transition from a committed woman to a single woman smoothly.

"What do I need to buy at the market?" I mutter as I check cupboards and fridge, licorice dangling from my lips. "milk, eggs, sugar, tomatoes and pasta... Cheese and bacon, for sure" Maybe I'll make a carbonara when I get home from the store. I had been in the middle of an Italian food fixation for days, all I wanted was pasta, tomatoes and cheese. Just when I finish making the market list, my campaign rings and I have a heart attack when I see no one other than Carlos Sainz — and all his other surnames — standing at my door.

"Carlos? What are you doing here?"

"I don't know, to be honest I don't know, but after you called me, I couldn't stop thinking about seeing you again" He says it so fast I think he's going to choke and I pull him into the apartment before the neighbors see him and decide to hold a carnival on my doorstep. He wastes a few seconds looking around, for an instant I saw my best friend there, the guy who knew everything about my life and who today, knew nothing about me anymore, big breakthrough.

"I'm sorry if you think that explains anything," I reply, looking at how lost he looks. "but again, what do you want here, Carlos?"

"I want to apologize, I was a shitty friend to you, I was cruel, I belittled your feelings, you are the most amazing and resilient person I know" he says, taking a step towards me, I don't back away, but I make it clear that he is not welcome in my personal space. "Life without you has been bad, very bad and I only realized that when I saw you, weeks ago."

"Walking away was the best thing we did, Carlos. God knows how we would have ended up if you hadn't put an end to it."

"No, it shouldn't have, it wasn't the right thing! We were left without our best friends because we didn't know how to deal with things, I didn't know"

"Carlos, you can't be best friends with the guy you're in love with, at some point I would hate you and that would be worse"

"and you didn't hate it?"

I keep quiet, because yes, I hated him for a long time, I still think I do and I don't even know why I'm trying to defend him. It must be the hormones talking.

"Yeah, yes I hated you for a long time, maybe I still hate you, but you were my best friend, I can't hate you forever"

I look at the man who was my mainstay for years, my confidant, best friend, accomplice, the guy who won my heart with gumdrops and notes in candy wrappers. The man I fell in love with and broke my heart. There is a mixture of feelings in me, hurt, pain, hope, resentment, all of it shaking my heart nonstop, I don't know what to feel.

"I don't know if I can have you around, Carlos, you were really my best friend, but you were also the guy I fell in love with and who broke my heart, I don't know if I'm ready to have you back"

He swallows, taking in what I said, and for a moment, I think he's going to give up and walk away, but he nods and straightens his posture "okay, I'm going to prove that I'm sorry, for everything, for being a shitty friend, a stupid guy, I'm going to make you forgive me and" he pauses, to emphasize everything "I'll be with you, I'll make up for all the years, all the pain, I'll deserve you, Y/N, I swear"

I don't even know what to think, my mind goes blank as I try to understand what he's up to.

"What if I don't want to?" The question escapes my mouth without permission, the filter between my brain and mouth is off, apparently. "What makes you think I might want you in my life again?"

He doesn't respond for a few minutes, I can almost see the gears in Carlos' head turning, trying to find a good answer.

"Nothing, but that's never been an impediment for me, you know"

I just stare at him, surprised by that, my mouth articulates, but no sound comes out.

"You came all the way here from Spain for this?"

"I would come from anywhere in the world"

After that there wasn't much we could say, Carlos insisted on staying and making pancakes for me, and I couldn't say no as my stomach growled like a monster at the mention of food. In an instant I was watching Carlos move everything in my kitchen, he chops strawberries and blackberries while letting the pancake batter rest for a while.

“Aaron looked for you?” He questions, putting the fruit in a bowl and only looks at me when I sigh loudly. "What? Has he been bothering you? I'll sort it out"

"What? No, no! He didn't show up"

"Then why do you look frustrated?" I watch Carlos put the frying pan on the fire and add the yeast to the dough, and then stir gently, placing small discs in the hot pan.

"I'm just tired, all the stress from the trip is still affecting my sleep..." I murmur, stealing a piece of strawberry, the smell of the pancakes increases my hunger and Carlos laughs when he hears my belly rumbling. "Don't laugh, I'm eating for two and you have no idea how much this little one likes to eat"

We enter another silent space, Carlos focused on finishing the pancakes and my mind wanders to our conversation, some time before. I'm not a hypocrite in saying that I've already forgiven Carlos, but I don't think there's still space for that kind of resentment, I'm not eighteen anymore, I'm about to be a mother, I no longer have the time or inclination to feed old grudges. And God knows how much I missed him all these years, I refused to watch any races so I wouldn't have to see him. Calling Carlos and asking for his help seems to have put all our dramas in order, It made me understand that one way or another, my life would end up intertwined with his again.

No matter how much I wanted or tried, I would never be able to completely move away from Carlos, and it's time to accept that.

"Here you go, eat it all, I don't want your baby to grow up hating me" he says and pushes over a plate full of pancakes, berries, honey and some icing sugar. A beautiful montage.

"I hope it's good, or we'll both hate you" I reply and laugh when he turns pale, I take out a generous piece and the sweet smell intoxicates me for a few seconds. I go to heaven and back when I chew the piece of pancake, the taste is light and the dough melts in my mouth, I know I can eat this for the rest of my life and be happy every day.

"Holy fucking God, this is perfect, Carlos!" I take a piece of pancake with a strawberry and feel heaven on my tongue, a moan of appreciation makes my whole body vibrate, this is perfect, damn"If you had used that to apologize, I would have definitely accepted it from the beginning."

"if I had known food was the secret, I would have come prepared" He laughs as I finish eating, nothing more is said until I finish the second helping, which Carlos was happy to serve me.

I slide my finger across the plate, picking up the traces of honey and sugar, humming as I literally wipe the plate clean. I insist that he put everything in the dishwasher and come sit with me so we can sort everything out, once and for all.

"I still can't believe you came all the way to London... You got my address from the driver and you're here, making me pancakes and everything..." I say, playing with one of the cushions while Carlos takes the armchair in front of me. I allow myself to face him, he's even more handsome than before, the trail of beard over his chiseled jaw, his thick hair in an elegant mess, Carlos is a vision of fucking paradise.

"I'm not lying, Y/N, I really want to make amends with you, in any way" he assures, and breaks the distance between us, sitting next to me while holding my hands. "You missed me so much, and when you called me crying, I realized that we missed so much from each other, I wanted you to be at my first victory with Ferrari, I wanted to see your graduation, help you move in... "

In a strange way, I'm grateful that he doesn't mention the fact that I was in love with him, not that I'm ashamed of it, but ignoring it might make us easier to get along with.

"We can try, Carlos, try to be friends again, because my goodness, I missed you so much" I confess and he laughs.

"I promise to make it worth it, cielo" he squeezes my hands, running his thumb affectionately from the back of my hand. "I won't disappoint you"

"I bet it'll be a boy," he says, stealing a spoonful of my ice cream, fast enough to avoid the hit of my spoon on his hand. "God said to share bread, you know?"

"Exactly, He said to share the bread, not my ice cream" I mumble, protecting the container with my body. Carlos has been coming to my house for weeks, always bringing food — I'm beginning to suspect that it has a direct connection to my stomach and my hunger —, gifts for the baby and books on child psychology, food introduction and everything he considers necessary to educate a child. He's been taking over my couch whenever he has time off. I dare say that I see more Carlos than my neighbors. "And why do you think it will be a boy? This is misogyny, Sainz"

He tries to steal my ice cream again and this time I slap him right in the middle of the forehead, which is effective because he moves away. "I'm not being sexist, I'm following my intuition, okay?"

"The last time we followed your intuition, we ended up in the middle of nowhere, at three in the morning in a car without gas. If it weren't for my father, you would be grounded to this day." I respond, changing the sofa, Carlos is willing to steal my ice cream, interfering with a pregnant woman's right to satisfy her desire for a sweet treat after lunch. I'm going to report him to human rights.

"But do you think it's a boy or a girl?"

"I have no idea, I still don't have that 'maternal intuition' that I've seen in the support group for solo mothers, but I'm fine with any option, I'll love it regardless of gender" I say, my right hand slides over my recently completed five-month-old belly. "I should have found out the sex at the last appointment with the obstetrician, but this little one here had his back turned, can you believe it?"

Carlos laughs, throwing his entire body back and falling onto the sofa. I just watch him laugh, being enveloped by his laughter like a fluffy blanket.

"Seriously, I didn't even know that was possible, crossing your legs, ok, but being on your back is something new" he says, still laughing and drying his tears. I just realize how close he is, When I feel your hand on my belly, the calloused palm warms my skin even with the shirt between us. My breath hitches in my throat, something new growing and It's not just the little traveler in my womb... I don't know if that could be a good thing, especially considering our history.

"Yeah, she told me to go back there in a few days, if I want to find out the gender before the sixth month, then I'll be there on Tuesday, I won't have a meeting at work and I can buy the paints" I explain, poking at the ice cream, trying to distract myself from Carlos' hand on my belly.

"I just need to be in Maranello on Saturday, so I can join you if you want" he suggests, finally moving to his end of the sofa.

"Really? I don't want to disturb you, I know race week is coming and you need to prepare" I say trying, I don't even know what I'm trying, I'm going to blame my exploding hormones.

"I can deal with that later, you need my opinion on paint colors and someone to hold your hand while you root for the business class traveler to be facing forward this time" he said, and looks at me meaningfully "that is, I am most needed here"

"Are you sure? You don't need to go"

"I would be there, even if I were playing crosswords in the office waiting room" he says, without giving me any chance for discussion.

"Okay, whoever said that is no longer here, now pass the ice cream slowly and no one gets hurt" I say and hold out my hand, waiting for the container he stole when he thought I wasn't looking. "Now"

"That's unfair," he grumbles, handing over the pot.

"I'll let you have the ice cream if you get pregnant in my place."

"You win, you can have the ice cream"

-- ♡ --

"Do you want me to come in with you?" He asks and I bite my lip to keep from laughing, Carlos is holding my bag under his shoulder. Quite a scene.

"I need someone to hold my hand, and" I look behind him "I don't see any more volunteers, so smile, you've been selected" I smile, waving my index finger as if it were a flag.

"Okay, let's confirm that my intuition is right"

"Uh-huh, of course yes, cielo" I say, entering the office.

The obstetrician doesn't need to ask any initial questions, since I was here a few days ago, so asking how I am is irrelevant. I change into that horrible hospital gown and lie down on the stretcher, Carlos looks anxious in the passenger seat and my hand grabs his so fast I don't even register it, I laugh nervously as the cold gel is spread across my bulging belly.

"Let's hope he's being an exhibitionist today" she says confidently and starts to use the device.

"How can you understand anything here, it's all blurry" he says, approaching the screen. "Where is his head?"

"Shut up, chilli" I say, but I give a nervous laugh "I don't understand anything either, so let those who do understand tell you what we're seeing", I shake his hand and receive an eager smile.

"We're lucky today, he's turned around, or rather, she" she indicates on the screen and I start crying immediately, Carlos squeezes my hand and wipes my tears. "Congratulations, you will be parents of a very strong-willed girl."

"Oh, no, no, I'm just the family friend" Carlos corrects her, but this is forgotten, given how much I'm crying. "You're crying a lot, should I be worried, cielo?"

"I-I'm fine" I sniffle crying less, I'm having a little girl, I don't even know what to say, I'm exploding like fireworks "I'm fine, really"

"I'll leave you two alone" the obstetrician leaves and I feel, cleaning the gel from my abdomen and I am hugged tightly, Carlos supports me with care and zeal, there is so much between the lines here, so much implied.

"That little girl is so lucky to be born as your daughter" he murmurs, stroking my hair gently "a little girl, damn you were right, my intuition is shit"

I press my hands to his shoulder blades so hard I feel my fingers tremble. "Thanks for coming"

"There's no place in the world I should be, cielo"

"You want me to go to the next race? Why?"

"I like having important people cheering me on there, and Charles is bothering me to meet you" he says, painting the wall lilac, he's all dirty, there's dye in his hair, and of course, he is shirtless. As long as I don't have a knife at my neck, I will never confess that the vision is messing with me. "I will take care of everything, you can stay in the same hotel as me"

"You should stop taking care of everything, or you'll have a heart attack instead of appendicitis" I murmur, Carlos insisted that I sit and watch him paint, he even brought books, chopped fruit and even Alexa to play my favorite playlist. "Seriously Charles Leclerc wants to meet me? Why?"

"I have no idea, Charles must have heard it one of the times you called me" he replies. Carlos speaks so quickly that there's no way not to be suspicious, but I give him the benefit of the doubt, I'm sure Charles will tell me why.

"Mhmm, I know... Now I'm curious to meet him too... But the trip to Budapest can be so tiring..." I murmur, peeling the pear as I watch him slide the paint roller along the wall perfectly, Carlos is meticulous and perfectionist in everything he sets out to do, so I admire the paint stains in his hair and on different parts of his body, thank God the fan is on here, otherwise I would be melting from the heat, and having him there, almost naked, doesn't help much.

“It’s not like I’m going to let you take a commercial flight to Hungary, please Y/N, I’m not that petty!” He retorts, touching up the paint on the roller while giving me a quick look "You will go with me to Budapest, on a private flight and I will leave you staying in the same hotel as me, if you are worried, I will hire a private neonatal nurse to accompany us, but I really want you to go, it's important for me to have you two there with me."

"If you insist on that—..." I try to say, but he interrupts me.

"I insist yes, and I'm glad you agreed, I was ready to start the Infallible Convincing Plan for Carlos Sainz" he says and I laugh loudly "What? Am I not convincing?"

"Persuasion isn't one of your best qualities, chilli" I mutter, picking up the folded sheet of paper from among the books he brought me "changing the subject, I listed the female names that I liked most for the baby, feel free to give your opinion, I'm quite undecided here, I have good options."

"I'm listening, I hope they are good names and none taken from the books, considering how obsessed with A Court of Roses and Thorns you are, the girl is in danger of being called Feyre" Carlos shamelessly mocks me and I throw the pear stem at him. "I'm just telling the truth, cielo, but come on, give me the options"

"You know, Ancient Egypt has been my Roman Empire for years, so I thought I would pay homage to one of the greatest queens of that civilization, none other than Cleopatra, but" I pause, aware that Carlos will want to object, so I continue quickly "I chose to shorten the name, Cleo. It's a good option, right?"

"It's a beautiful, elegant and feminine name. I like it, you have a good option" he responds, with his back to me, giving a beautiful view of his lats contracting and relaxing. Oh God, what a hell of a handsome man.

"Well, the next option is Athena, as the Greek goddess of justice, wisdom and war, I don't think I need to explain further, right?"

"It's good, but I still prefer Cleo"

"I like Margot and Elena, they are both elegant and short, I didn't think about long and complicated names, I don't want her to have problems learning to write her own name"

"It's a good justification, giving her a name that's easy to read and write... So I still prefer Cleo"

"Don't you want to hear the other options?"

"Nope, I like Cleo, it's beautiful and very meaningful, and it matches her last name, she'll love it, when she understands it"

I hadn't thought about my last name when choosing the names, so Carlos' reasoning makes sense, so I already had a name chosen.

"Alright, we have a winner, I like Cleo too, thanks for helping me choose"

"You're welcome, we are here to serve well and always serve" he makes an exaggerated bow and I laugh.

"Oh really? My kitchen faucet is dripping non-stop, can you fix it for me?" I ask ironically and Carlos wipes the sweat from his face, giving me another meaningful look.

"Of course yes, cielo, I'll sort it out as soon as I'm done here"

"I'm kidding, chilli, you don't have to worry about it"

"But not me, I'll sort it out as soon as it's over" he insists and I give up trying to make him give up, Carlos is as stubborn as a wild horse, it's no wonder he's at Ferrari. Which makes me think of something:

"I agree to go with you, but I want to meet Lewis, it's my condition" I point my index finger and Carlos looks at me, raising his eyebrow.

"Really? I need to find out what makes Lewis Hamilton so appealing to the female audience" I can't identify the feeling in his voice, and I adjust myself in the seat, stroking my protruding belly. Being pregnant isn't easy, the nausea, all the swelling and fluid retention is horrible, I was already sleeping poorly because my belly wouldn't let me find a comfortable position and of course, I've already lost all my clothes. But I don't regret for a moment having continued with the pregnancy, my little traveler is a gift, Cleo already makes my days wonderful. I observe the lilac covering the walls little by little, making her room take on shape and color, soon the furniture would be assembled.

"I think it's the voice, he has a very good voice to listen to, I could listen to hours of ASMR of him speaking" I respond, hearing Carlos mumble intelligibly. "What did you think of color? I didn't want pink because I thought it was too obvious, and I love the combination of lilac and green"

"I like it, they are very pretty shades and you chose a good brand, they don't have a strong smell and they pigment well on the wall... I'm almost done here, where do you leave the tools to fix the tap?"

"Carlos, I was joking, don't worry about it, the plumber will come on Tuesday to fix it, I'm serious" I say, hoping he will forget this story. "Don't worry, it's serious!"

He puts the rest of the paint in the can and takes the paint roller to the laundry area. I even try to help, but Carlos forces me to sit down again when he returns from the laundry area. He himself collects the newspapers from the floor and opens the windows.

"I need a shower now, can I use your bathroom?"

"Obviously, feel free, I'll order a pizza for us" I say, following him to the living room, Carlos waves and gives a quick kiss and and go to my bathroom in the suite. I see how his jeans fit well on his hips, leaving the waistband of his underwear slightly visible and God only knows how that messes with my hormones. “Y/N, you fucking need to control yourself, he’s your best friend, stop acting like a needy bitch.

"Are you Y/N? Finally! It's a pleasure to meet you, Carlos talked a lot, a lot about you!" Charles tells me, giving me a tight, loving hug. He is really very handsome and It's easy to understand why his fans are so obsessed with him, he's gorgeous. He has an adorable dimpled smile on his face and I feel shaken all of a sudden.

"He also spoke a lot about you, Charles, it's great to meet you too" I return the hug.

"I hope he said good things"

"I tell her the truth!" Carlos shouted from afar.

Soon we are surrounded by the team, who are extremely warm and kind to me, but I feel claustrophobic among so many people.

"Okay guys, give her space, please, you're making her suffocate" Carlos appears as a salvation and takes me out of the crowd, Charles follows us to the empty area of the garage. "Are you okay, cielo? Here, drink some water, it's too hot and you can't get dehydrated." He offers me a disposable cup of water and makes me sit down. "I have to talk to my mechanics now, but Charles can take you for a ride in the pitlane, if that's okay?"

"Of course, of course don't worry, you can go, we'll be fine"

"Well, take care of them, Charles"

"Relax, being with me is the same as being with God, relax cabrón"

"That's what scares me" Carlos says and kisses me quickly on the cheek, not caring what it does to me, not that he knows.

"Ready? I'm going to give you the best guided tour of the pitlane" Charles interlaces his arm in the middle and guides me through the pitlane, he is approached by a lot of people, always being extremely kind and attentive, he makes some jokes while introducing the places and some people.

"Y/N! Carlos didn't tell me you were coming!" Lando comes running towards us and hugs me too, we were already close to the Mercedes garage, one of the employees told us that Lewis was in a meeting, so I decided to wait

"It was a last minute decision, there was no way to warn you anyway" I say while Charles takes a chair from the Mercedes garage and makes me sit down.

"Why did you meet her before me?! I hear Sainz talking about her all day!"

"I live in London and I met her during his visit, so I tagged along! It's not my fault you don't live in London!" Lando retorts and I laugh at them.

"Sorry if I'm Monegasque! I didn't choose to be born in Monaco!" My laughter echoes around the room and they stop arguing, and then they laugh too, but the moment is interrupted by Lewis Fucking Hamilton. He's more impressive up close, damn it.

"It's good to finally meet Carlos' girl, you've been the talk of the paddock, he says and my cheeks burn and he hugs me too. The four of us talk for almost forty minutes, Lewis is exactly what I expected, polite, kind and attentive, he really has the aura, that aura that few people have and that made it clear why he is one of the greatest in the sport. He's really impressive.

"Let's go to the garage chérie, you need to get some rest, it's too hot for you to stay out here" Charles says as he guides me to the Ferrari garage, where Carlos is already waiting for us, Seeing him is like a cool breeze on a scorching day, he looks so good in red that wow, it hurts to remember he's leaving the Tifosi.

"How was it? Did you enjoy the ride? Did Charles treat you well?" He asks and sizes me up, but I nod dismissively and hear Charles click his tongue, offended.

"I'm fine, Charles was a perfect gentleman to me, and we met Lando on the way, it was amazing!" I say.

"That's great, cielo, let's go to my room, you need to rest, there was a lot of excitement today" He takes me to his private room and lets me rest on the bed there, I don't mind, my feet hurt so much and I wanted to get some sleep, Carlos sits on the edge and rubs my belly, he looks strange, like he's uncomfortable. "Are you okay? How is Cleo?"

"We're fine, she's great" I reply and feel her move and kick, Cleo is Carlos' biggest fan, apparently, she always moves when he speaks, loves the sound of his voice and kicks in the exact place where his hand is. She's going to be his biggest groupie, and there's no argument.

I watch him, feeling my heart beat like a fool, Carlos has been exactly what I hope he will be, a friend, a great companion, he is always in connection with me, I hate knowing that I'm falling in love with him again, that I'm entering that gray area again, putting our friendship at risk because of my stupid feelings, so I'm going to swallow whatever I feel because I'm not willing to be without my best friend again, I couldn't bear to lose him and I want him to be part of my daughter's life, of our life. So it's okay for me to stay in the friend zone if it keeps him around.

"What's bothering you, chilli? You look strange"

"I... I need to tell you something"

"Carlos, if you brought me to Budapest just to kick me out of your life, I swear to God I will run you over with your own car!" I exclaim, trying to pinch his muscular abdomen but failing, obviously.

"What? Of course not, it's nothing like that" he laughs nervously "It's something else... Well, I know this shouldn't happen, and I don't even know how to tell you this, but spending the last few months with you It's been the best thing in my life, I love spending any available time with you and Cleo, helping you with everything, this has left an impression on me and continues to leave a lasting impression on me, I'm so grateful for allowing me to be a part of this."

He stops, leaving tension in the air, making me anxious.

"What I want to say, cielo, is that my feelings have changed, I no longer feel like your friend, I'm just falling more in love with you every day, I tried to avoid it, because we are friends, but it was inevitable and when I realized it, I was already in love. I know it's not the best case scenario, and I broke your heart before, so it's okay with me if you don't reciprocate, but please, let me stay close to you, close to Cleo, I already love this little traveler, I love her so much and it hurts to imagine not being around—..."

I didn't even notice when I sat down on the bed, but I notice the exact moment my hand grabs the collar of his red t-shirt and I kiss him. As I imagined doing since I was sixteen. Carlos responds almost immediately, there is urgency, care and satisfaction in his kiss, all spiced up by the sweet taste of cinnamon. It's exactly how I always imagined it. It's sweet, strong and intense.

"If it's up to us, you'll be with us forever, cielo" I say and he breathes a sigh of relief, kissing me again while leaving his calloused hand on my belly.

"I'm going back to London now, fuck it, my little girl is coming" he says on the cell phone, I hear the sound of him moving around the room, I breathe loudly when the contraction hurts and I want to cry, but I don't.

"No, no, you're saying goodbye to Ferrari, Cleo won't like knowing that her father is abandoning the race like that" I say in one breath. "We're fine, okay? Blanca is here with me and Reyes will be here soon, please stay calm, love and promise me you will win, for us"

Carlos whimpers and I stop holding him, bursting into tears, I wanted him with me there, but I would never forgive myself if he didn't race his last race with the Maranello team, and Cleo will understand in the future. I know it will.

"Cielo... This is fucking unfair" he kicks something and I sob "I wish I was there, you need me, both of you"

"Win the race, chilli, for us!" I scream because Blanca takes the phone away from me, because I enter the operating room.

-- ♡ --

Cleo is perfect, there is nothing Aaron about her, thank heavens and she is absurdly restless, she doesn't cry, but she doesn't sit still either. I'm absurdly in love with my little traveler, ga she is beautiful, healthy and was born at exactly the same time that Carlos won the race in Abu Dhabi, that didn't give him the championship, but it was extremely important for us, because the checkered flag waved when she cried.

"She's beautiful" Blanca is standing next to the stretcher, holding my daughter's little hand while Cleo breastfeeds, still with her eyes closed. The silence of the maternity corridor is broken by quick footsteps, the door to my room is opened with force and I see Carlos there, he still looks like a mess in his Ferrari overalls, messy hair and very, very tired.

He doesn't say anything, he just walks towards us and kisses my forehead for long seconds and looks at Cleo.

"I'll leave you alone" Blanca gives a suspicious smile and leaves the room.

"Lamento llegar tarde, pequeña estrella, pero gané la carrera por ti". He says in Spanish and I melt with so much love, Cleo seems to recognize his voice and calm down. "she is beautiful, too beautiful, I'm sorry for being late, mi amor"

"It's okay, chilli, you're here at the right time" I say, grateful to smell his expensive cologne, it feels like home and gives me so much comfort. "Thanks for coming."

"There's nowhere I want to be, cielo" he murmurs, carefully I make Cleo stop breastfeeding and cover her breast with the hospital gown. "are you really okay, cielo?"

"I'm, I'm fine actually... How did you get here so fast?"

"Fred left a jet ready for me, I just did the race, got the trophy and came here as soon as I could" he says, running his finger on Cleo's cheek. "She's so beautiful, her nose is identical to yours, happily."

"Do you want to hold her?"

He looks nervous, but accepts it. Carefully, Carlos places Cleo on his lap and walks around the room, talking softly to her, it's the most adorable scene in the world, my heart fills with love as I watch them.

"Cielo, will you marry me?" He says, still looking at the baby in his lap. "I want you close to me always, I want to take care of you, of Cleo. God, I love you both so much and I can't spend another day away from you"

"Are you serious?

"Damn it! I've never been so serious in my life"

"Yes, yes, yes! There is no one better for me, no better father for Cleo" I say in tears, and he comes over, sitting next to me on the hospital gurney. We both watch Cleo sleep in his arms, she looks comfortable and happy with him, just like me.

Months later.

"Let's go see daddy, sweetheart" I say, clearing the entrance to the paddock. It was Cleo's first race since she was born, Carlos had been looking forward to this race for weeks, but didn't want to travel with her so young, so I waited for the Silverstone circuit. I'm in the process of moving to Madrid, but it's happening gradually because of the racing, the 2025 season has been unusual, Williams is finally scoring well, Carlos is having a great season so far, so I thought it was only right that we came to support his race.

Cleo babbles happily, clapping her hands as the team members greet us and joke with Cleo, my little traveler laughs to everyone. She is Miss Congeniality herself, drawing attention wherever he goes. When we finally arrive at the garage, we are greeted by the sound of an engine being tested, the mess of Netflix with the team and Carlos aside, talking to Alex as if they were two old gossips, and when he sees us, he smiles so wide it shines like the sun.

"¡Mi estrellita!" He talks loudly as he comes towards us, Cleo claps her hands and laughs, making the cute baby sounds, getting the team's attention, I don't mind seeing my little girl be his focus first, this is part of what I idealize paradise to be. Cleo laughs as Carlos kisses and tickles her, so I go to greet the team, ask James what his predictions are for the day's race and talk to Alex.

"Where's Lily? I thought I'd have company during the race" I look around, trying to find her, but I hear Alex sigh.

"She's at a golf tournament in Asia, she won't be back until Thursday" he says sadly "She wanted to come, especially since it was Cleo's first race, but she couldn't miss it..."

"Oh, and will it be broadcast? I want to root for her" I say, the two of us spent a long time talking until Carlos came to us, they are both blushing and smiling, which makes my heart skip a beat.

"Hey cutie, I loved your blue jumpsuit it suits you so much" Alex holds out his hands to her and of course my daughter goes with open arms to him, Alex takes her for a walk and sees her cats, giving me and Carlos a little time together.

"Hey cielo, Thank you for coming, it's important to have you here" he says and kisses me, wrapping his arm around my waist, keeping me close."I like this dress, any special occasions?" He says, looking me from head to toe, I try not to blush under his malicious scrutiny.

"I thought we could have dinner today after the race"

"Oh, really? I think we can request a special babysitting service from Lando and Charles... And extend our dinner to the room, what do you think?"

"Excellent! We can make things better then" I suggest, playing with the zipper on his suit.

"And how do you intend to make things better, mi cielo?" He asks quietly, and suddenly everything around us disappears, leaving just the two of us there. The air becomes thicker and my breathing is heavy with anticipation.

"A bet, if you win the race, I'm in your hands, otherwise, you'll be under my yoke, what do you think?" I suggest softly, he laughs, running his tongue over his lips as he stares at me.

"I'm in, and I'm prepared mi amor, because I'm going to be at the highest place on the podium today" He assures me and kisses me, the team calls him to run, I find Alex and Cleo in the corner of the garage, both playing with one of his kittens.

"Come on baby, let's let Uncle Alex run" I pick Cleo up and she whimpers, wanting to keep playing with the puppy. "then we play with the kitten, love, I promise" I say to to comfort her, Alex promises to leave the kitten with Cleo later. The two drivers prepare for the race and I decide to watch from Carlos' room. Cleo is not used to the noise of the cars and I don't want it to become a nuisance for her.

The whole race is full of unforeseen events and surprises, no one is really expecting Williams to perform well, but Carlos and Alex are getting everything they can out of the car, putting pressure on Lewis and Lando in the first positions, the last laps literally become a game of musical chairs, the four exchange risky overtakes, the last lap is marked by an interesting exchange and Carlos takes first place, with Lewis in second and Alex in third. Cleo and I celebrated in the pilot room until we were taken to the garage, When Carlos arrives, he is euphoric and celebrates with the team, I love seeing his joy, how well he is with Williams. He comes to us and picks Cleo up, throwing her in the air and making her laugh. I'm taken by surprise when he kisses me, amidst applause and screams from the team.

"Thank you, thank you for everything, mi amor, I love you, I love our family"

"I love you, chilli, and I know Cleo does too" I respond, leaving my face close to his and kissing him again. I never thought that my life would have such a huge turnaround and that I would end up here, once again in love with my best friend and, on top of that, being reciprocated by him. I thank each and every entity that has guided me to this moment, I thank my incredible partner, my perfect family and our wonderful family.

I watch Carlos go get his trophy, he refuses to leave Cleo in the garage and she loves being in the middle of the mess.

And I love seeing them.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

#Spotify #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz angst #carlos sainz x reader #f1 imagine #f1 #s awturn

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jo-harrington · 5 months ago

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Stranger Than (Fan)Fiction - Chapter 4: Reader Suggestions

Previous Chapter: Lore Dump

Summary: Things start to get a little strange when The Writer hits the dreaded Writer's Block and looks for some inspiration.

Word Count: 4.9k

Pairing: Eddie Munson/Fem!Reader

Warnings/Themes: No-Upside-Down AU, Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Chaos, SMUT?, Cockblocking?, Isekai, Mentions of FOI-compliant events and characters, Various References to Movies and Television, Probably a little more lore (just assume that theres gonna be bits of lore everywhere), Criticism of Fanfiction, Analysis of Fanfiction/Fandom, Meta Fiction

Note: This is more of a "filler episode" to establish some of the rules of Eddie and Reader's predicament than anything specifically plot-driven, until the end. You could say that I myself felt a little bit of Writer's Block...not necessarily because I couldn't get anything onto a page but that it wasn't happening for this story in particular. (Coincidental that it happened at this specific chapter. Almost like I planned it that way. Maybe I did.)

So please forgive me if anything feels a little rusty; I'm getting back on this bicycle after a few months of letting it sit in the garage. But I'm happy I get to take it for a spin again. We're in it for the Tour de France now lads! Or we die trying.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

You know, in a previous life, if someone told you that you'd be laughing in the face of a bloodthirsty, murderous vampire, you would probably think it was impossible.

That was, unfortunately, the reality you lived in right now.

Red, veiny, monstrous eyes. Sharp fangs. Hissing and roaring.

And you just snickering like an idiot with a death wish.

Probably because you knew it wasn't actually a death wish.

Your arrival in Mystic Falls was an interesting and exciting one. Mainly because of how normal it was.

It was a small town and everyone seemed friendly enough and you were truly ready for it to be a break in the action. Despite it being another so-called "modern" or "futuristic" setting.

Futuristic to you, at least. Still a bit stuck in your 1985 mindset, 2009 seemed beyond your imagination. More than the 90s had been, or 2004. Still not as bad as when one of the Writers shoved you onto the USS Enterprise so you could woo Bones McCoy. And certainly not 100 Trillion years in the future, at the end of the Universe with The Doctor.

Still, you were happy for a change of pace. So you chugged into town with your trusty Beetle like you usually did, until you made it to the large house on Maple Street that was the new residence of your supposed "college best friend," Jenna Sommers.

You liked Jenna, actually. She was sweet and funny and hated the hoity-toity elites of the town's Founding Families. She dragged you to all the Historical Society events just to have an ally, and those nights were always a hoot. You'd gossip about the mayor's affair with so-and-so, drink free booze til you saw double, and stuff your tiny handbags with their expensive hors d'oeuvres.

After years of traveling through various universes, and over analyzing your friendships back in Port Geneva, she was a breath of fresh air and someone you truly cherished.

She also set you up with her boyfriend's best frenemy--her words, not yours--Damon Salvatore.

And he seemed fine.

Great, actually.

A normal, sarcastically funny, suave, handsome sort of guy who took you out a few times and always behaved like a gentleman, and kissed better than anyone you'd ever kissed before.

Until this very moment, where the penny dropped, and he roared in your face with his fangs.

And you just laughed in his.

Because of course he was a vampire.

Of course you couldn't have a nice, normal thing.

Once.

Ever.

December 1985

If Eddie thought his life had been out of control before, it was safe to say that the moment he realized that it was being controlled by some Writer in another universe, it only got worse.

For a few days, there had been a break in the madness.

Well, there were some things that still fucked with Eddie's head.

Some of the posters on his walls were for bands he didn't like, his collection of exclusively DC comics became an array of Marvel titles, and his stash of porn...needless to say it was full of shit he'd never even thought about before.

He still jerked off to it, though. What else was he gonna do? Not jerk off?

But there were no out-of-body feelings, no wacky spectacles in class, no unexpected emergencies. The trailer even stayed clean for a whole week; it was a godsend.

"Does that mean it's all over?" Eddie asked when you'd arrived at his trailer for a night in.

"Unfortunately not," you sighed. "I don't know the ins and outs of it. Sometimes the story proceeds as planned. Sometimes you get long stretches of time where nothing happens. You've heard of Writer's Block? Maybe they're having trouble trying to figure out what's next for us."

"Why don't they just give up?" he huffed. "Leave us alone."

"Would you give up if you were trying to figure out some complicated plot for Hellfire?"

"Yeah, but that's different. It's just DnD. These are our lives that this asshole is playing with."

"And what if, somewhere, Agrithor the Invincible is real and getting mad because Jeff rolled a Nat 1 on a medicine check and now he has dysentery."

Eddie didn't know if he was cranky because you were right, or a little more in love with you because you had been listening to him rant about Hellfire.

"It's a learning curve," you continued. "It gets weird when you start to think of your life like a story someone is writing, waiting for the next thing to happen. Trust me. I learned that the hard way."

"So what should I do? Just go with the flow?"

"You need to, otherwise you start second guessing what's real and what isn't with everything."

"Hmmm..." He tilted his head from side to side considering your words. What's real and what isn't. A loaded statement in this predicament the two of you found yourselves in.

"So let's just enjoy our night in," you said with finality. "What's the plan? Fraggle Rock and fooling around?" You glanced around him to the setup on the coffee table. VHS tapes and cans of soda and a bowl of popcorn.

Eddie felt his cheeks getting hot with embarrassment.

"Speaking of what's real...I, uh, thought it might be fun for us to watch a few episodes of Port Geneva?"

You looked at him like he'd grown a second head; your brows raised in question, mouth dropping open in shock.

"I just...have some questions about things that didn't really make sense," he was quick to explain. "Continuity errors. Who better to ask than someone who was there?"

It took a second, but you broke down into laughter and you threw your hands up in defeat.

"You know what, as long as you order us pizza too, fuck it. Fine! Let's see what all the commotion is about."

That had been the last truly fun night for a little while--

His tapes were paused more than they played because you kept getting up to rant about scenes you disagreed with, or stories that the producers of the show simply got wrong, or key scenes that had been cut altogether.

Every time you'd get up and shout and talk with your hands and point at him to get him to understand...he loved you more and more...

--and Eddie felt bad for not taking advantage of the normalcy for as long as he could.

Because things started getting weird.

First Christmas had come, and it had been a joy.

Munson Christmases were simple affairs. More of a day for hearty food and relaxation than for any traditions or celebrations. You'd of course joined in, along with Granny Ecker, who lamented over Ronnie not being able to come home for the holiday.

Both Granny and Wayne had conspired to get you and Eddie under the mistletoe though, and had ooh'd and ahh'd when your lips met several times over the course of the night.

But Eddie looked forward to New Year's a little more than Christmas; he and the guys typically shot fireworks at the quarry and TP'd all of the jocks' houses in the middle of the night. You'd had similar New Years celebrations with your friends back in Port Geneva, so he figured it would be a treat for you to join them.

Except New Year's Eve never came.

On what was supposed to be the 31st, Eddie slept in, anticipating he'd be up all night with you and the guys. He got his backpack ready with supplies and walked out of his bedroom, only to find Wayne in the kitchen cooking.

"Did we have plans I forgot about?" he asked his uncle.

Wayne crossed his arms over his chest and frowned at him.

"You getting sick, kid?" he asked. "Don't know how you could forget about Christmas."

Christmas?!

"But it's," Eddie scoffed, "it's New Years' Eve."

Wayne opened his mouth to respond when there was a knock at the door, and after a beat, you walked in with several grocery bags in hand.

"Hey guys," you greeted cheerfully. "Merry Christmas!"

Wayne repeated the sentiment and motioned for Eddie to go and help you.

"M-Merry, uh, Christmas sweetheart," he said with heavy sarcasm as he reached your side. You shot Eddie a very pointed stare. "What's going on?"

"Just go with the flow," you muttered to him, leaving no time for explanation before you and Wayne started chatting.

So that's exactly what he did.

And truly, there wasn't anything wrong about having a second Christmas.

You'd baked cookies and he'd helped you decorate them; you kissed icing off the tip of his nose and then he'd serenaded you and Wayne with carols on his guitar while It's a Wonderful Life played in the background. He honestly had so much fun, all of his complaints and questions got put to the wayside

It was the fact that the following day brought yet another Christmas.

"Alright," he demanded when you'd arrived to make popcorn garlands with him. "What the hell is going on?"

"A time loop." You explained. "A request loop, actually. The Writer must have asked for Holiday-themed requests from their readers to get themselves out of their slump. Not the first time I've been through this."

"And everyone chose Christmas?" he scoffed. "Damn, these people are boring. Halloween is the best holiday, obviously!"

"Obviously," you laughed.

"Or April Fool's Day!"

"It must be December in their world too." You cupped his face in your hands. "Listen, request loops suck and they're boring. But trust me, you got lucky that it's just holidays. It could be worse."

So of course it got worse.

Because Eddie Munson could never get so lucky as fate taking it easy on him.

The requests didn't stop with Holidays--although, it had been a nauseating gauntlet of Christmases and Thanksgivings, with one Valentine's Day and a 4th of July thrown in for good measure--they extended to other things too.

Eddie had woken up one morning with the word "faucet" stuck in his head.

No rhyme or reason.

Just "faucet."

He suspected that The Writer had something to do with it, especially as he felt a strange anticipation to interject the word into conversation at some point in the day. Like he was compelled to say it in every sentence and every conversation, but none of them felt right.

Only when Dave had gone to get a drink from the water fountain and had stuck his entire mouth on the spigot did Eddie get any relief.

"Fuck Dave, you don't know how many germs are on that faucet?" he practically gasped as the weight on his chest and his mind finally alleviated.

It happened again a few days later. An insatiable need to talk about "root beer floats" all throughout the day, until the evening when he picked you up for a date.

It had been a great date, sure, but he hated root beer.

Finally, it was the word "alluring." Not one that was usually a part of his vocabulary, but this Writer seemed to want to teach Eddie a lesson by using some fancy word.

This time, the key word was said to you during a steamy make out session on your couch. Eddie's lips traveled down the column of your throat, sucking at your pulse, and he told you how alluring you were. Your moan was delicious, and no matter how true the statement was or how much he wanted to continue, he simply couldn't find the desire to.

The moment felt tainted. All of them did. No matter how funny or sweet or hot they were; the knowledge that he was just a puppet on the Writer's strings was a sour feeling and he just couldn't shake it.

You held him in your arms as he lamented about the lack of control he felt.

"I'm sorry," you whispered into his hair as you rubbed soothing circles over his back and shoulders. "I wish I could make it better. I wish I could make it all go away."

Eddie was just so overcome with emotions and feeling so unlike himself that he asked, "what if you could?"

You paused your movements and strained to look at him, confused.

"What...what do you mean?"

"I don't..." He closed his eyes and sighed. "I don't know what I mean."

Yes he did.

The thoughts had begun to form the moment the words exited his mouth, until they were a tempest swirling in his mind.

"Ok," you simply dismissed, and then continued your attentions.

"Actually," he couldn't stop himself then. He pushed himself away from you and stared directly into your eyes. "I...this all started because you came to Hawkins. So maybe...maybe if you tried to leave."

He immediately saw the heartbreak in your eyes, and he knew he fucked up.

"Do you want me to leave?" you questioned softly.

Everything inside of him screamed no. Of course he didn't want you to leave. In fact, he wanted the opposite of that; he wanted you to stay with him forever. He'd been willing to sell his soul to the devil just for the chance to have you, have someone who understood him the way you did.

He was just...so...tired.

So tired in that moment, he could only focus on his own desperation. His own feelings. He hadn't even thought to consider yours.

"I just...have you ever tried to leave?" he wondered. "You said you get in your car and you come to all of these worlds; that's how you travel into these stories. Have you ever tried to get back into your car and leave? Back to Port Geneva?"

"I don't," you shook your head rapidly, hands held up in front of your face as though you were trying to manifest a physical version of the idea just so you could conceptualize it. "I don't even know how I could. Or where I would go? How to get there?"

"You said that there were times when you got to go back."

"But I'd just end up there," you explained. "I've never decided on my own that it was time to go. I don't have a map."

"Maybe that'd be the end of it all," Eddie grabbed your hands in his. "That's the key to breaking the cycle. If you decided that you wanted to leave, if you tried to go home, the Writer would be compelled to give up and our lives could both go back to normal."

Your eyes darted between his, and you calmly repeated the question, "Eddie do you want me to leave?"

He hesitated so you continued.

"You said we were in this together. You said you'd help keep me grounded and I would do the same for you." You took a deep breath and repeated yourself for a third time. "Do you want me to leave?"

It was an eternity of waiting before he finally answered.

"No, of course not." You pulled your gaze away from his, your face crumpling in a way that made his heart ache. "I just figured...it was just an idea. And it couldn't hurt to try."

He tried to talk, tried to explain himself, and went on rambling for minutes on end. He even stood up and started pacing, hands running through his hair anxiously.

He cursed the Writer for doing this to you, cursed the Writer's Block for putting the two of you in this kind of a position in the first place. Cursed the Gods and Devils for making such an inescapable Hell in the first place.

He hoped the more he talked the more you'd see his frustration, his side of things.

Or at the very least, you'd try to fight him. Yell at him. Tell him he was wrong.

But you just nodded along, refusing to look at him.

It's a learning curve, you'd told him.

Because you'd been through this a million times before, lived this nightmarish life that he was now getting to experience for the first time. Shit, you'd even loved people before you'd come here and started having feelings for him.

Loved and lost and left. Whether you wanted to or not.

He thought he'd understood that. You had thought that he thought he'd understood.

But maybe he didn't. If he thought that getting you to go was the magic solution.

He realized, in that second that he stared at you and you stared at the floor, that this life wasn't the only learning curve for him.

And he wasn't the only one with something to learn either.

You both needed to adapt.

It's a learning curve.

He decided, with a soft kiss to the side of your head and a "see you later sweetheart," that it was better to leave and give you both the space to think and adapt, instead of just standing there digging himself into a deeper hole.

It would get better.

It had to.

But who knew what tomorrow would bring?

He was on a stage playing for a crowd of thousands.

It wasn't the biggest venue they played but it was the only sold out show on the tour.

They were all singing along with him, cheering. His friends, his bandmates, surrounding him and supporting him.

The lights were blinding, he was sweating, and his fingers tapped against the fretboard rapidly until it felt like they would bleed.

He played the last few notes of the song and then threw his arm up in the air with a flourish, all to the backdrop of their cheers.

He saw his face on shirts in the crowd, saw his name, heard them chant his name.

"Eddie...Eddie...Eddie..."

He basked in the majesty of it all, so far from his meek beginnings, so far from Hawkins. If he really thought about it, he didn't even feel like himself anymore. He felt like more.

It felt great.

It felt powerful.

And it was everything he ever wanted.

He pulled the earpiece from his ear and spoke into the microphone as Dave and Jeff threw picks into the crowd.

"Thank you guys...you've been great." He laughed as they cheered for him again. "Port Geneva is one of our favorite places to play. It feels like a little bit of home away from home. The best shows, the best crowds. The best food. Anyone else going to Bonnie's after the show?"

There was a roar of applause again.

"Maybe we'll see you there. It's the main reason we keep coming back here. I always get the Number 7 on Rosemary Bread."

There was a lone boo from the pit; he pulled the mike from the stand and took a few steps to the edge of the stage, eyeing the people for the source of said boo.

There was a couple; a handsome, conventional-looking guy with very neatly combed hair, who wore a flannel over a tee from their first tour. And a girl, pretty--main character pretty--with a hand-written poster in her hands...scolding her boyfriend under her breath.

Bingo.

"We don't like hecklers at our show but if you have a better order than mine I think you need to share it with the class," Eddie grinned at them. There was something familiar about the guy...and the girl...he just couldn't place where he'd seen them before. He shook off the feeling. "Come on, I won't bite."

"If you're not getting the Bonnie Special," the guy shouted up at him, "then you're not doing it right."

The crowd around them boo'd but Eddie stopped them.

"No, no," he chuckled. "I like a guy who knows what he wants. Very metal of you man. What's your name?"

"Patrick."

"Nice to meet you Patrick. I'm Eddie." The crowd laughed. "But seriously no Rosemary bread? That's ok. More for me."

He put the earpiece back in and turned back to the guys, ready to do what he did best: keep playing.

---

Once the show was over, he and the guys indeed made a stop at Bonnie's.

The little sandwich shop was overrun with fans wanting to meet them. He shook hands and signed autographs, as people snapped pictures of them at the counter, ordering a veritable feast to-go.

Then when they got their food and Eddie's hunger got to be too great for him to wait anymore, they were sped back to their hotel.

He wished his bandmates and their manager a goodnight before ducking into his room and bolting the door behind him. He took a few steps in and flipped the light switch on.

And there, sprawled out on the bed, was a different sort of feast.

The true object of Eddie's hunger: you.

You in perfectly paired, borderline scandalous lingerie, hair and makeup impeccable, staring at him with a mirroring hunger in your eyes.

"Hey rockstar," you greeted with a predatory grin. "Kept me waiting long enough."

"Wouldn't you believe it," he smirked at you and gestured to the takeout bag in his hand. "They were out of Rosemary bread."

"That's what happens when you shout your order to a crowd of your biggest fans."

"Funny I didn't see you there."

"How else would I know that you told them your sandwich order?" you teased.

"Didn't hear you either."

"I'll scream your name tonight," you batted your lashes at him. "You'll make sure of that, big boy."

Oh yeah, it was always a boost to his ego when he got you to sing for him, scream for him.

He tossed the bag onto the dresser--for later--and then closed the distance so he could devour you.

His lips went straight for your collarbone, hands exploring your curves, eager to make you squeal; meanwhile, you made quick work of his clothes. His belt was gone instantaneously with a sharp snap, your fingers made quick work of the fly of his jeans, then you reached up to shove his jacket from his shoulders.

God, he'd been fantasizing about you for years--knew your body better than he knew his thanks to countless hours wasted on the tapes from the adult section of Family Video--and it had been a surprise to see your familiar face in the pit at that very first show in Port Geneva.

Or maybe a gift from whatever god or devil was out there.

He'd sought you out after the show and it had been instant chemistry. You both couldn't stop fawning over one another, even though it might've been a little bit more awkward on your part. But you certainly weren't shy about it.

"The rockstar and the porn star," you joked as you split that infamous Number 7 at Bonnie's after your first night together. "A real power couple."

But now it was a handful of years later, and that's exactly what you were. Names forever entwined together in gossip magazines and on each others lips--not to mention the lips of every man and woman who wanted to fuck both of you, even though that likelihood was a big fat zero.

Yeah the sex was great, but it was more than that.

It was knowing one another. Caring for one another. Especially when you were both in an industry where there was little-to-none of either of those things at all.

You'd known for a while; Eddie had found out the hard way.

That's what kept him coming back to you, coming back to a small town with a venue barely-big-enough for the band's rising fame.

Because it was your home, and you were Eddie's.

Home.

It was exactly what he thought as you pushed your panties aside and he sunk into you, wet and waiting and oh-so-deliciously tight.

"Fuck," he swore against your mouth, "I missed you."

"M-missed you too," you panted right back, squirming beneath him, waiting for him to move.

Of course, Eddie was an asshole and let you wait. Let you suffer. Shit he let himself suffer, just to savor being this close with you.

He knew once he got started, he wouldn't stop until it was over.

So he'd hold out for that one last little bit, because he knew before long, he'd be leaving home behind once again.

He wasn't a man known for patience though, and before long he began to move.

He bucked into you, kissed you, squeezed you, lavished you with attention until you were one.

It was a crescendo of feelings when he got to have you like this, his lips spilling promises before he spilled himself inside you.

I missed you.

I want you.

I need you.

I love yo--

Eddie woke up with a gasp, heart racing and a wet spot growing in his boxers.

There was heavy pounding at the side door, someone slamming thier fist against it over and over again.

"Shit," he cursed. "Shit, shit, shit."

He jumped out of bed, and looked down at himself, wincing at the mixture of his embarrassment, his cum-full underwear and his rapidly-softening cock.

"Eddie, it's me," you called through the door and he froze in panic. "I know you just had a wet dream. Can you open up? It's cold out here."

How the hell did you know that?

He waddled out of his room and to the adjacent door and then let you in. You--coat thrown over your pajamas, feet in fuzzy slippers--pushed past him and headed straight for the kitchen.

"We need to talk!" You told him urgently.

"Uh," he called after you. "Can I, uh..." He gestured down at himself.

You pivoted on your heel, and then glanced from his face, down to his crotch.

Your face cycled through an array of warring emotions before it settled on bashfulness.

"Sure," you squeaked. "I'll...uh...make coffee."

Eddie locked himself in the bathroom for several minutes, listening to you bang around in the kitchen as he cleaned himself up and changed.

By the time he walked out, you were sitting at the little table, biting your nails, as two mugs sat in front of you invitingly.

"How did you know about my dream?" he asked immediately as he fell into the seat opposite you.

"Because I had one too," you said in an obvious tone.

He immediately felt his cheeks get hot, and he grabbed the steaming cup of coffee to take a sip, the scalding liquid not nearly as bad as the feelings that burned through him.

"I know...things weren't great last night," you stared once his attention was back on you, "but if shit like that's going to happen--"

"And what exactly was that?"

"That was our Writer finding their inspiration again," you explained. "Probably from one of those pesky requests. For an alternate universe. We can't exactly be...in other places. Yeah sometimes it happens, but when there's already an established world like this one...where I'm here in Hawkins...alternate universes happen in dreams."

"And are they always..." He waved his hand as he looked for the word.

"Pornographic?" The tension between you broke and two of you laughed, all worry melting instantly. "No...not always. But, uh, I guess it doesn't exactly bode well if our Writer found their inspiration for us in that AU."

Eddie swallowed hard and felt his face heat up again, for a different reason this time.

"It wasn't that bad," he muttered and you shook your head at him with a fond chuckle.

"No," you replied. "It wasn't. But, uh, I was kind of hoping you wouldn't see me naked without...I don't know, me being the one to show you."

The realization hit him too, that all of that...was all of that...was that all against both of your wills?

Sort of?

Kind of?

"It's ok," you assured him, seeing the conflict taking over his features. "I, uh...it happens a lot differently for us if either of us didn't actually want to have sex."

"Got it," he nodded, a little relieved that meant you wanted him just as much as he wanted you. But then he paused as he realized the implication...and what that meant for you in the past.

He was about to ask, to check and see if you were ok, but you quickly moved back to the original topic.

"If the Writer has found inspiration again," you began. "That means we need to be on the same page. We need to work together and support each other, because who knows what they have in store for us.

"There are a million types of stories out there. Daring adventures, fluffy romances, angsty heartbreaks. It's a bitch to deal with, honestly. We already know that this Writer wants us together, and they've already thrown wrenches into our relationship. With Steve...and Chrissy...plus the sheer unpredictability, if this dream was anything to go by...it's going to be difficult.

"So you need to be prepared," you said with a tone of finality. "We can't...you can't do what you did earlier. You've gotta keep your cool. There's no escaping this. For either of us. And you can't really fight it, but if you try to, there's definitely ways that it could make things worse for us. There's no way we can stop this until it's over. Until the story this Writer wants to tell is complete."

You reached across the table and covered Eddie's hands with your own.

"I know it's hard and I know it sucks for your world to be turned upside down," you told him gently. "But you need to hold it together. You need to listen to me, trust me. Otherwise there's no telling what might happen."

Your eyes were full of desperation, full of care, and as much as he wanted to question things--question everything--he knew now was not the time or the place.

So he assured you, without a hint of doubt or question in his voice, "I trust you."

Then he turned his hands so your fingers could twine together, and he squeezed.

"And don't worry," he smiled. "You can trust me too."

Next Chapter: Friends to Lovers

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aidenlydia · 7 months ago

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hey ho!! the 09 simon sh anon here (what a weird title. anyways) first of all, thank you for replying! didn't know you hc simon as autistic, which makes him, in a way, even more relatable to me <33

i have another question, this time about simons and johnnys relationship. you mentioned that johnny helps simon cope, especially with his aggression / sh. do you have any specific headcanons how simon does that? do they have any specific rituals for when simon starts struggling? and also, the other way around, when johnny starts struggling with his OCD and depression?

cw: self-harm

Oh boy do I have a lot of thoughts about this. But first some definitions for those who are unfamiliar:

Autistic Meltdown - a intense response to overwhelming stress or dysregulation, leading to loss of control over behavior and difficulty calming down. Common signs include crying, yelling, rocking, pacing, dissociating, intense stimming and aggressive or self-injurious behavior (hitting, biting, kicking).

Shutdown - a form of meltdown where a person becomes extremely still, silent and withdrawn rather than outwardly aggressive.

Stimming - repetition of certain physical movements or vocalizations that autistic people use to calm themselves down or express their feelings.

Intrusive thoughts - unwanted thoughts that pop into one's mind without warning, at any time. They're often repetitive and can be disturbing or distressing.

Obsessions - intrusive thoughts that are hard to manage, get stuck in one's head and have a negative impact on daily life.

Compulsions - repetitive things one feels they have to do (mentally or physically) in order to reduce distress and anxiety caused by obsessions (to make things feel right again). One might know that it doesn't make sense to carry out a compulsion, but is unable to resist doing it.

I think the first step is being patient and not judging each other.

The way Ghost feels during and after a meltdown is complete loss of control, accompanied by shame. That's why SH is so easy to fall back to. It re-establishes some sense of control, which can be both a relief and a punishment at the same time.

Similarly with MacTavish, when his intrusive thoughts get the better of him and he starts spinning his wheels (getting stuck in compulsions and increasingly agitated) he knows he's both out of control and unable to stop it while probably being judged if witnessed.

It boils down to not being understood and feeling like everyone thinks you're crazy. Your self-esteem and sense of belonging take a massive hit. But having someone witness you at such a low point and support you through it, without thinking less of you afterwards, already makes a huge difference.

I don't think MacTavish knows he has OCD, he's probably only aware of the stereotype (obsession with being clean and organized) and thinks of his own symptoms as "a weakness" he needs to hide and overcome by sheer willpower to be able to keep his job and the respect of his colleagues.

Ghost isn't blind to it, he notices a lot of MacTavish's quirks and insecurities that others don't. He takes them seriously, wants to understand and help.

Part of MacTavish's depression is connected to his OCD - it makes him very anxious and tired. If anything goes wrong his depressed mind will find a way to blame himself and his compulsions get worse in response to his new intrusive thoughts/obsessions. Anything can become an obsession and the excessive misery caused by it makes him feel even more depressed. And on it goes.

At first Ghost falls into the trap of wanting to help and relieve MacTavish of some of his distress by accommodating one or more of his compulsions - it seems to make him feel better. However the more you give into compulsions, the stronger they get and end up making the symptoms worse in the long run.

The key to truly support MacTavish is to help him resist his compulsions. Ghost learns firsthand that endorsing the behaviors does more harm than good, including giving reassurance, which is a common symptom of OCD (and the most heartbreaking for both parties. It feels like a rejection to MacTavish and Ghost feels so mean for doing it, but it is for MacTavish's own good).

You can read more about it here: If You Love Someone With OCD, You May Need to Stop Reassuring Them That Everything Is OK

Of course Ghost can still validate his feelings, recognizing how upset it makes MacTavish and remind him to be patient and compassionate with himself while also staying consistent in his encouragement to keep resisting. Instead of trying to make the distress go away, Ghost helps him to accept it and ride it out together. Sometimes while in the thick of it they resort to distraction (doing something else to take his mind off it, which isn't exactly the best go-to coping skill) and physical affection (for emotional support). During a crisis situation Ghost will usually fold and let him give into a compulsion, he still has to learn how to deal with those.

Another thing that helps MacTavish a lot is when Ghost starts telling him about some of his own intrusive thoughts (everyone can have them). It makes him feel less alone/more normal, helps him open up more about his worries and reaffirms his belief that Ghost doesn't think he's crazy or a bad person. Remember, he doesn't know he has OCD yet.

I'm not sure Ghost would know or even suspect he has Autism either, autistic afab kids don't fit the "typical" stereotype and are often overlooked. He probably got called weird and off-putting his entire life, as well as being bullied without even realizing it. He only knows he isn't like the others and prefers to be alone because everyone understands the world and communication in a way he just doesn't.

He embraces his weirdness instead of hiding it, doesn't care if people think his mask is corny or that they should keep their distance from a freak like him. He's tired of not being understood, so he isolates himself and doesn't try to change anyone's mind anymore.

Nobody really gets him until MacTavish. He tends to leave a negative first impression; being perceived as rude, aggressive and disrespectful because of missed social cues. His meltdowns are mistaken for childish tantrums or manipulation. MacTavish can tell he's definitely odd, but he appreciates Ghost's straightforwardness and blunt honesty instead of being offended by it. Ghost responds well to MacTavish because he needs very clear and direct communication without it being condescending and patronizing, which MacTavish is naturally very good at. No mind games, no reading between the lines.

It's also why Ghost doesn't mind taking his mask off in front of him, not only does he trust MacTavish enough to be vulnerable, but he doesn't fear being off-putting or having his facial expressions (or lack thereof) misunderstood. They are similar in that regard, MacTavish has resting angry face and is often mistaken as aggressive, intimidating or confrontational because of it. Ghost sees there's a much more sensitive and thoughtful man underneath the hard exterior.

MacTavish doesn't have much experience with meltdowns, but can tell Ghost isn't escalating on purpose. It starts with Ghost showing signs of anxiety - pacing, rocking or becoming very still and quiet. He tries to calm himself down by fidgeting/stimming, bouncing his leg, grinding his teeth or biting at his lip. Sometimes he will ask repetitive questions, seeking reassurance, or become increasingly nonverbal. He is easily frustrated and has difficulty communicating or expressing himself clearly.

Meltdowns can be triggered by many things at once, a mix of distress intolerance, emotional regulation issues and sensory overloads. Meaning lack of sleep, stress, too many unexpressed emotions, change in routine/big life changes, too much noise, being touched too much, bright lights (that's why he wears sunglasses), too much smell, not getting enough air, ect. It can be completely overwhelming.

MacTavish responds by staying calm and quiet, not talking over Ghost and moving slowly. Any additional stimulus makes the overload worse. He gives Ghost space, doesn't touch him without permission and never punishes him for "losing it" during his meltdown or afterwards. He gets Ghost into a safe, quiet room or place until it's over. Things that help Ghost calm down is silence, a cold compress on his forehead, noise canceling headphones, laying down with the lights out and MacTavish's entire weight laid on top of him or something cold to drink.

After meltdowns Ghost feels exhausted and either needs some time alone to recharge or becomes very clingy for a while. He often doesn't remember what exactly happened and is very self-critical, but MacTavish won't allow him to be ashamed of himself or engage in his typical SH behavior, opting for calming affection and distraction instead.

If Ghost's urge to SH is coming from a place of anger they tear paper in little pieces together, go for a run or exercise. If it's from sadness they hold each other, listen to music, let MacTavish massage him or get out into nature. If it's from feeling numb, he's allowed to flick an elastic band on his wrists or hold ice cubes.

To prevent a meltdown or SH the trigger needs to be recognized early enough to be either removed in time or given a coping strategy. They develop a code sign for Ghost to use when he feels unstable, so MacTavish can help him regulate or get him away to somewhere quiet where they can properly communicate. The more Ghost trusts him, the easier it is for Ghost to communicate and disclose his distress. When Ghost becomes nonverbal they either write or speak in sign language to navigate the situation.

After leaving the military they struggle more with their relationship and gain a deeper understanding of each other by finally getting diagnosed. They end up going to therapy together where they learn how to properly manage MacTavish's compulsions and get him treatment for depression. They develop relationship strategies and identify Ghost's meltdown and SH triggers as well.

I think this is a good place to stop for now. Perhaps one day I'll get into my DID Ghost headcanon/ideas, but my fingers hurt from typing so it will have to wait lmao

This is a continuation from a previous post

#cw sh #09 soapghost #09 ghost #captain mactavish #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #headcanon

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bg-brainrot · 9 months ago

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Hugs for a Vampire (Astarion x GN!Reader) - Chapter 18: At Withers' Party

Bonus Hug - Chapter 18: At Withers' Party

Each chapter can be read as a standalone hug.

Pairing: Astarion x GN!Reader (Rogue!Tav)

Genre: Fluffy, Filling in Canon

Rating: Teen

Tags: Gender-Neutral Pronouns, POV Second Person, post-game, epilogue, cw: alcohol, jealousy

WC: 2.1k words, 18/18 chapters

Summary: An epilogue hug! Astarion sees Rogue!Tav giving out hugs and wants one of his own.

Author's Note: This was not part of the original fic, added on after the epilogue was released, however I chose to put my own spin on the epilogue hug.

Finally, Whether you read this fic AO3, on Tumblr, or a combo of both, thanks so much for joining the hugfest! I love this vampire man, and may he have many, many more hugs <3

Ao3 | [Hug17] | Hugs for a Vampire Masterlist

It’s been six months since your victory at Baldur’s Gate.

Six months of traveling through the Underdark with Astarion, establishing a base for the vampire spawn, and figuring out your next steps together. It was perilous and difficult work, but you wouldn’t change a single thing.

You have missed your former companions dearly though, so when you received the invitation from Withers for a celebration, the smile that broke across your face could blind a celestial. I wouldn’t miss this for anything – not even a fresh new apocalypse, you wrote back.

So that’s how you and Astarion have found yourselves above ground once again, the familiar wilderness of the Sword Coast a welcome sight, the distinguished company an even more welcome one.

Everyone seems to be doing quite well, despite how you all left each other. Lae’zel is only able to visit through a projection, and the reprieve is rather temporary for a few of your companions– namely Wyll and Karlach– However, it’s a rare opportunity and you’re incredibly grateful to have it.

The elation must be obvious on your face, as Astarion takes one look at you and laughs. His sing-song little giggle never fails to bring a smile to your face, and right now your face is liable to crack open. “Go on, dear,” he says, sensing the eager tension in your body. “Mingle! If you need me, I shall be near the wine.”

“You can mingle too, you know,” you say, though you’ve already begun to walk away.

“Invite me again after a few bottles,” he responds. You know he loves them all in his own way, but he also finds them to be a bit too much at times. Ever the stray cat, he’ll find his way to them when he’s ready, at least you hope. So you nod to him in agreement and wander off to chat with your dearest friends.

You’re so excited to see them all again that you’re practically jogging to meet them.

Shadowheart is the first. When you get a good look at her, you see a peace in her face that you haven’t seen in any of the months you’ve known her. Something about it brings you relief. You knew they would each find their happiness without you, but seeing it firsthand is something else. Perhaps it’s because she’s looking so much more herself than ever, but before long you find yourself asking, “Could I have a hug?” The hug is caring and welcoming and everything you knew Shadowheart has always been.

Next you make your way to Karlach. She’s alive and well, which is ten times better than the last time you saw her, and you just might cry from the sight. She tells you about Avernus and about the possibility to fix her heart and you just might cry from that as well. Again, you can’t resist, especially knowing she’s been fighting for her life for six months. “Could I have a hug?” The hug is warm and strong, just like the woman in your arms.

After that, you make your way to Wyll. He’s doing rather well in Avernus with Karlach, and, when he mentions that he’s planning to ensure Karlach finds a solution to her heart, a few tears well in your eyes. Wyll is among the best of mortal and immortal men, and you’re glad he went with Karlach when you couldn’t. The grateful feeling is more than you can put into words, so you ask, “Could I have a hug?” The hug is strong and bracing and an absolute testament to Wyll’s enduring friendship.

You find your way to Lae’zel. After learning of her diligent efforts to save her people from Vlaakith, you can’t help but be awestruck by how much she’s changed. You’re inspired by her ability to learn to fight with words and stunned by how much she truly misses you. Even though she’s not there, you can’t help yourself, “Could I have a hug?” She simply clicks her tongue at you and calls you an idiot, somehow melting your heart all the same.

Eventually, you find Gale, tucked away with the tressym Tara. He’s a teacher and no longer at risk of exploding – you can’t help laughing at that, remembering the various times he almost blew you all up without the help of an all-powerful orb. Something about the way he speaks of his new role and invites you to visit, either to teach or just to spend time, makes you realize that this is what a happy wizard looks like. You love it and ask, “Could I have a hug?” The hug is all-encompassing and lengthy, much like one of Gale’s lessons in magic.

Finally, you find Halsin, dancing the night away. When you learn more about his endeavors, you find that he’s reestablishing the settlement at Reithwin, reconnecting the land to its people. He mentions that Thaniel and Oliver are no longer lonely and that the children of the settlement bring him a fulfillment he never thought possible. After regaling him of an exaggerated tale of your and Astarion’s adventures, you assure him that the two of you will visit soon to tell more. “Could I have a hug?” The hug is surprisingly gentle and comforting, and you walk away feeling quite content.

You determine that you’ll need to ask the rest, even Withers, for hugs if they’ll all be this enjoyable. But before you do that, you decide to take a moment to yourself, to process everything.

That’s how you find your way to a quiet corner, head spinning with warm, fuzzy feelings and maybe a smidge too much wine. Just being here, surrounded by some of the best people you’ve ever had the privilege to encounter, fills you with a companionship you weren’t aware you’d been missing. Astarion fills you with so much love and happiness, but this– this is different.

As if summoned with your thoughts, the vampire walks toward you, wine glass in hand. "Are you done mingling?" Sensing your mind is elsewhere, he leans closer, inspecting your glassy, faraway gaze. His hand lands on the small of your back, jolting your attention back to the present and you turn to look at him. His eyes sparkle at you with radiant joy and a hint of something else. Could that be annoyance?

You decide to focus on the joy. "Yes, I think I've managed to get good conversations out of everyone. Did you know Gale wants me to go teach at Waterdeep?" Your voice sounds incredulous, after all, you warned him: once a rogue, always a rogue. Unless he wants his students to learn how to stab more efficiently, he would do best to seek someone else.

Astarion clearly agrees, making an exaggerated, aghast expression. "You? A teacher?" He shudders in fake-fear. "My love, I pity the poor students who would be subjected to your methods."

“Hey,” you say, shooting him a glare. “I thought you were supposed to be the supportive one!”

He laughs and shakes his head. “I can only support so much, my dear.” Then he takes a long look at you, noticing how unfocused your eyes are, the flush to your face. “And from the looks of it, I may need to support your entire body before the night is over.”

You only grin at him and say, “What did I do to deserve such a caring man?”

“Yes, yes,” he says, rubbing gentle circles along your back. “Likely whatever you did to deserve the affections of every adventurer this side of the Chionthar.” His tone is joking, but the dark look on his face says otherwise.

Pushing aside your own amusement, you pull his hand from your back and lean into him. “Okay, what's the matter, love?”

“Oh nothing. I just thought my jealous days were behind me.” He sounds sullen, and you note a sad tilt to his eyebrows.

Jealous days? You groan, recalling his concern over the fiery barbarian. “Love, really truly, if I were leaving you for Karlach, I would have gone to Avernus months ago.”

He waves his wine glass at you dismissively. “I know that, and I don’t mean Karlach, contrary to all evidence thus far.” Suddenly avoiding your gaze, he takes a sip of wine and changes the subject. “No matter, let’s go ask Withers where he found this vintage.”

“No, no, no,” you say, tugging him back to you before he can walk off. After another six months together, getting used to each other’s idiosyncrasies outside of mortal peril (mostly out of mortal peril), you knew the escape was only a ruse. He wants to talk, but he seems too embarrassed to begin. “You’re allowed to be jealous, Astarion. But I can’t help you if you don’t tell me why.”

Astarion stops in his tracks, looking back at you with a pair of vulnerable red eyes. “Do you promise not to laugh?”

You take a beat to debate this, but ultimately honesty wins over and you shake your head. “I wish I could, but I do promise to try my best?”

A sigh escapes him, and you’re graced with a soft, reluctant smile. “Typical. You were truthful though, so I shall be too. I was rather jealous of…” He wipes a hand over his face dramatically. “I was jealous that you’ve gone and hugged everyone else. Gods, I sound like a child.”

It’s a good thing you only promised to try your best because an involuntary huff leaves your lips, which you'd firmly pressed together in preparation. "That is…" you gasp out.

"Idiotic? Pathetic?" Astarion supplies.

"Rather adorable actually," you say, finally allowing a snort out. “How do you always manage to be both adorable and sexy?”

You swear you can see the tips of his ears color pink, but that may just be the firelight or your own tipsy vision. He only says, “I’m quite talented.”

“Would a hug help you feel better?”

Astarion looks at you, eyes darting between yours. You can see a bit of hesitation in them, and you’re wondering why when he says, “Only if it’s not a pity hug.”

“Never,” you say, solemnly. “You know I only give hugs I mean.”

He clicks his tongue, annoyed again. He places his wine glass down on the ground with a flourish, as if preparing himself. “Yes, exactly. Which is why I’ve gone and become jealous. This is all your fault and I expect you to remedy it.”

You nod, accepting this burden with ease. “In that case… Could I hug you?” Astarion waves his hand at you as if to say, get on with it already, and you dive right in.

The hug is loving, it’s understanding and supportive. It warms you, it cools you, and it makes you want to tackle this man to the ground in an aggressive affection– a feeling you only barely temper after a few glasses of wine. After experiencing so many hugs tonight, you find that the hug is so very perfectly him.

No, not just him. It’s the type of hug that the both of you make together. And it’s the hug you want to experience again and again for the rest of your life.

When you finally pull away from him, Astarion is smiling once more, jealousy evidently placated. “Well now, I have you every night, don’t I? Go on then, continue to bless them with your presence. I’ll be here when you’re ready. I’ll always be here, my love.”

You shake your head at him. “A lovely sentiment, of course, but you’re done hiding. Come on.”

“What?” he asks, brows furrowing as he tilts away from you.

“I said, you’re done hiding. No more shadows, they all keep asking about you and I’d rather you answer them yourself,” you say, all but dragging him back to the party now. “They miss you too, you know.”

“Darling, please. What if they ask me for a hug?” Astarion looks truly appalled at the thought.

You laugh, imagining him reacting like a cat forced into a bathtub. “You can say no, of course. But I promise not to get too jealous if you do.”

“What will it take for you to forget I ever said that?” he says, laughing and allowing himself to be dragged.

You quickly swipe his wine glass back up off the ground as you pull him along, and take a long drink before returning it to him. You only say, “At least two more bottles, though I suppose that depends on how wild Withers likes his parties.”

Hand-in-hand, you both walk off to enjoy the rest of the celebration. The night is young, the wine is flowing, and there are still many more hugs to be shared.

#astarion #astarion x tav #fanfic #astarion fic #astarion x reader #rogue + rogue #astarion fanfiction #astarion fanfic #astarion fluff #astarion masterlist #hugs for a vampire #hfav #gn reader #astarion x gn reader #astarion x gn!tav #astarion baldurs gate #bg3 astarion

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nqueso-emergency · 14 days ago

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Alright Queso I’m dropping my own theory here. Feel free to delete it, I just need this all out before I self implode due to frustration.

I’m honestly so confused by the people being like “lol this is the last season!” due to pacing and Tim’s writing.

#1 ABC wouldn’t have spent the millions they did on the show for just one season. Peter and Angela were each getting over a million annually and the others were finally at the 100k per episode by contract negations during season 6. Even IF the Mouse House suddenly lost all of their brain cells and were like “yeah let’s pour an easy 20 mil [idk what the budget actually is but I’m assuming the salary alone is in the 10s of millions] into this production and just have it for one year”…. Why? Literally what good would that do for Disney/ABC? Like yeah, Disney doesn’t need to recoup losses, but still they want at least something close to being out of the red (unless 9-1-1 is sucking that much money out but I also don’t think they wouldn’t have taken it on if they were afraid of that). Also I highly doubt the actors and crew would have signed onto a year contract (circle back to previous point of “Disney wouldn’t have taken on a money sucking production”).

#2 as it’s been established, Tim writes by the seat of his pants. I think last season they had a rough game plan, then the strikes happened and it was too late to turn back when it came to drafts. By the time it came to filming, they couldn’t open, lead up to, and close the stories they wanted to tell in the 10 episodes. They didn’t know they would only have 10 episodes. They were writing what they wanted, then dealing with the timeline later. Fast forward a year and a half later, we’re left with them scrambling and everyone is now dealing with the effects of “okay here’s a resolution just trust us” (Ortiz v the Wilsons) as well as incredibly condensed stories (Gerard) so they can get to the stories they wanted to tell this season (Hot Shots, Eddie and Chris, Maddie and Chimney having another kid). Realistically, we’re NOW getting to the stories that should have been episodes 4 and 5. So yeah it’s rushed and probably will be for the better part of this season.

Regardless, my personal theory is, the writing is on the wall for Grey’s. The general public has been laughing about how Grey’s has jumped the shark 4 times over by now and everyone is kinda over it (both the show and Shonda). ABC knows this, but most importantly Disney knows this. But they can’t get rid of Grey’s until they have a show to take over for Grey’s. I think ABC got 9-1-1 to potentially take that power hour over. With how well Dr. Odyssey is doing and a potential spin off, in my very convoluted opinion, they’re looking at a way of building a new Shonda but instead it’s Ryan Murphy (even if he isn’t involved in the 9-1-1 sphere anymore the general public still knows the name Ryan Murphy).

I also am starting to question if Peter and Angela will leave (or have smaller roles) in the coming season. Between Bobby still dealing with Hot Shots, Athena hinting at retirement, and their house being built? I’m curious if they’ll pull a moment where the house is under construction, but it’s ~wherever Michael and David live~ so they get the happily ever after retirement and they’re setting up a season 9 where it’s “oh wow what will happen next!?”. Procedurals need a revolving cast and Peter and Angela have both mentioned moving on eventually. Why not now? Let them get the Disney money then leave (with guest appearances at reasonable times) opening a WHOLE LOT of potential things to t op about the 118.

Sorry for the novel. I’ve been thinking and have no one who will listen to my theories ❤️

Posting. But I'm not getting into this conversation 😅

#nquesu wanna block #911 abc #anonymous #911 show

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biscuitbox23 · 11 months ago

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Dead weight.

summary: you run into the woods to get away from the group, you were reaching the end of your life as you suffer from aplastic anemia, only to get stopped by Rick.

A/n: I’m not a medical expert, i have no familiarity with the field of medicine I am just an idiot who is a sucker for terribly made sad stories. This may be a very long opening to the actual climax so im sorry for that :( please do DM me for advice on how i can make my fanfictions better!

Warnings: inaccurate depictions of the illness, non-established relationship (rick and reader), mentions of death, angst, cursing. (Not much due to me being a minor.) somewhat bad grammar since English isn’t my second language.

words: 1.3K

It has been a while, well, a while since you had a good stock of medicine. You had been in an abandoned cabin a few months after the outbreak. During it, you got stuck in a pharmacy in Atlanta. The law was gone now, so you hoarded a ton of antibiotics, capsules, injections, and anything you could get your grubby hands on.

When Rick and Daryl saved you from a trio of men who were trying to take advantage of you, you joined them and did not stay inside forever, especially when blood stained the floors of your shelter. It was a mistake.

You wanted to stay with yourself, isolated from the horrors and sacrifices that the world has offered now. It was harder to find medication now that most stores were stripped clean. It was easier for you to catch minor fevers, and you tended to have more rest than the others in the group. The only reason you were there is because you knew how to survive.

In the woods, in the apocalypse, no problem. Whatever your dad knew your dad would teach you, he was an outdoor person and loved to forage different shrooms and plants. God knows what happened to him.

You grew closer to the group, helping them find food and clean water, scavenging what you can find in abandoned retail stores (even if it does not have much importance.)

Now you find yourself walking out of Alexandria by attempting to climb the steel borders to the outside of the wall, your head spinning as drowsiness has consumed you to your very core, yet you still have the urge to continue. Or else you are just dead weight. You had a few foot slips —you swear, Enid makes it look easy— but managed to get out. You can sense your muscles aching as if you did not even have the strength to pull yourself up despite climbing trees more than a million times when you were a teen. You needed to disappear

from the people, the group. Rick.

Rick was a leader, for sure. He had all the correct morals and cunningness and looked up to him for it. You were no longer the person of any use to him and his group. You could not even defend yourself without stumbling down to the ground.

You were around when T-dog and Lori passed away. You

remembered falling for Rick when you first saw him, only to discover he had a pregnant wife and a kid. It started like a rocky road. You were so used to the isolation that it took a lot of convincing to get you to come with them to the prison.

You took a liking to his daughter Judith. You loved babies. It was a surprise. You thought that you would never find a baby in this world again. Carl was the closest to you. You tell him stories about your life and would do the same, reminiscing about the world that used to be. He praised his father a lot and got a good idea of what Rick was like as a father. Hershel would check up on your health while Rick would stand beside the old sport as Hershel examines you.

Making your way into the woods, you stopped by a tree to take a breather. Your hands were on your knees as you stared down to the ground, crinkles of the leaves crushing on the bottom of your shoes. The night was cold and airy. The chill on the tip of your nose was evident as you took one more glance at the haven that shielded the real outside world from its inhabitants. The sour stench of rotting meat was not detectable and gave some fresh air — It is not like you cannot get fresh air in Alexandria. You want to be alone most of the time.

“thought I'd find you here." A voice called out, the voice echoing in your ears sounding familiar as the crunching of leaves has gotten closer and closer.

“fuck” you curse under your breath, “how did you find me?”

“Carl saw you tryin’ to climb the walls.”

“huh,” you playfully scoffed but was met with a chill and a cough, “thought I was being sneaky…”

“what're you doin’ out here?” Rick asks out of the blue, staring you up and down as you lean back into the tree.

“Rick," you sighed heavily, “go back.”

“I'm not goin’ back till you tell me what happened, y‘know that, don’t you?” Rick asked with a twinge of concern mixed with his southern drawl.

You paused.

“I'm leaving, Alexandria,” You rubbed your forehead as your stomach grumbled. Sliding down to sit as your back leaned onto the tree further.

“If this is about your illness we can make—“Before Rick could finish his sentence you interrupted.

“Make it work? Yeah, I don’t think so…” You retorted, “You don’t understand, Rick. I have a condition where my bone marrow doesn't produce enough blood cells, and I have no meds to help me, what are the chances of finding a pharmacy? A pharmacy where it has all the things I need to survive?” You spat, frustration filling your mind like hot liquid.

“Denise can help you, Y/n, you have seen her efforts in helping you,” You can sense Rick’s desperation to get you back to Alexandria’s infirmary. His voice remained gentle but firm.

“Why, Rick?” Your eyes stared into Rick's ocean blue orbs, frustration, and confusion, “I’m not strong, anymore. I can’t go on runs, anymore. I can’t protect anyone.”

“Because we still need you—“

“Maybe it’s you who still needs me, Rick…” You spat, leaning your head on the wood as you got the strength to finally stand up, with the support of the tree, of course.

“Y/n we can discuss this once we get back,” Rick sighed, coming closer to you as he held both your arms gently.

A rush of adrenaline painfully scours into your veins as you push him away with all the remaining strength you have.

“GODDAMNIT RICK, WHY CANT YOU JUST LET ME DIE OUT THERE!” You yelled at him. “YOU KNEW I WAS GOING TO BE A BURDEN AND YOU SAW HOW MANY PILLS I HAD ON THE TABLE!”

Rick scoffed, “You're giving up now? After all that has happened? The prison, terminus… and you decide to end it all here? Where we’re finally safe?” His tone wasn’t as gentle but it was now harsher, deeper.

“if you think more treatments, will change anything, it won’t. I'm done and I won't let you guilt me into continuing this charade.”

“then what’re you gon’ tell Carl, hm? That you’re sick of bein’ alive so now you’re gonna leave?”

“This isn’t about Carl, Rick it’s about you keeping me to fill in the gap of what Lori gave you,” you glare with poison in your very eyes. “Leaving you to care for a child that was never yours.”

Rick went quiet, as you realized what you had said, “i-I’m sorry… Rick…” you pleaded, holding his hands.

Rick sighed, “Maybe you're right."

You nodded, your breath becoming shorter as your legs finally give in. You feel your body starting to shut down. Rick helped you sit down comfortably on the ground. You were paler and had many bruises on your arms and legs. You were heating up again.

“I'm sorry, Rick,” you breathed heavily, clutching the hand he gave you.

“It’s okay, Y/n,” Rick comforted you, kissing her knuckles as her legs trembled. Rick’s voice was shaky, almost labored.

“I don’t wanna turn, you can ask Daryl to keep my gun, you’ll need it,” You softly chuckled. Rick looked at you, taking his revolver from his holster.

“Get back to Alexandria, to Judith…” you smiled as you felt bile in your throat, blocking your airway and your heartbeat becoming more abnormal.

Rick gives you a final kiss on the head as an act of kindness and comfort on the edge of a quick and painless death.

—————————————————————

a/n: Hello everyone! This is my very first Fanfic and I thought about it on the spot 😭 Reading it for me makes me kinda cringe but don’t we all? Anyways hope you guys enjoyed it (cuz I didn’t but I’m a sucker for tragic love)

#rick grimes #the walking dead #twd #twd x reader #rick grimes x reader #the walking dead fanfiction #andrew lincoln #first fanfic #the walking dead universe #BiscuitWrites #twd oneshot

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devondespresso · 5 months ago

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Wiggy Wednesday🧠🪱 - A Robin (Buckley) Hood au

tagged by @just-my-latest-hyperfixation @shares-a-vest and @hotluncheddie Thanks guys!!! 💕🫂💝

continue-the-game tags at the bottom, you guys absolutely don't have to read this whole thing for it, it won't hurt my feelings cause this thing got long sgnxgnxnh

💚>> EDIT: @carolperkinsexgirlfriend expanded on the aro robin thing and its literal perfection!! <<💚

tbh the past few days ive felt like i was loosing my spark a bit (could be a medication thing now that i think about it) so the plans for today are to rewatch some really damn good motion pictures, feel some emotions probably, and go from there.

having said that, i was able to put together a fun little idea about Robin Stranger Things as Robin Hood, Steve and Little John, either Vickie or Chrissy as Maid Marian. Chrissy would fit the secretly badass princess type very well, thinking princess peach in the mario movie, while vickie would be slightyyy more tough girl princess, thinking fiona from the first shrek. I'm not like a huge fan of slapping character names into roles just because, so i think most antagonists would be of the robin-hood-world and some might get left out. Dustin and Erica would be there, possibly as merry men, or i also think itd be cool to mix another vaguely-medieval story that fits the kids group better, have it be something in the backstory or future or something like a story living in the edges of this one. Eddies also an easy fit as the minstrel and could be tied to chrissy's story too if you want

im not planning on writing anything for it, but the story ideas that are jumping out to me rn are mostly characters meeting/origin stories. Steve and Robin meet early on in her outcastery, Robin in jail for stealing and Steve also locked up close by either for something outrageously stupid or something definitely illegal but for the sake of his little brother and friends. They swap stories and then swap even more jokes and fun banter. Either Robin loops him in on her plan to break out, or Dustin and Erica come to break Steve out during her escape and they all team up. Maybe a little part where they visit Dustin and friends, let him know Steve's fine even tho him and Robin are fugitives, maybe Dustin tries to follow them but they have to send him back until he's old enough to move out, an emotional "we're not gone forever" talk, concluding with Robin and Steve heading off to camp in the woods and figure out what's next. maybe robin comes out here, maybe steve had confessed and whatnot similar to the show, maybe robin just needed to establish that she's not into him before they started adventuring just the two of them. Maybe she mentions her future plans, to stay firmly on the laws bad side, maybe to reunite with the lady she found at the edge of palace gardens, something that would make the road alongside her rougher than his already will be, and Steve chooses to join her anyway.

also a romantic subplot with Chrissy or Vickie.

if its chrissy, i think itd go similarly to the disney movie (relative to vickie's anyway), chrissy has her princessy life and through circumstance (maybe an archery contest, maybe they run into each other, probably a combination of run-ins) they meet and are into each other, maybe Robin crossdresses and after she's revealed to be a girl Chrissy's head over heels, maybe Chrissy runs away, maybe robin wins her favor, lots of fun princess tropes to play with.

with vickie, i keep leaning into the Fiona-style angle where she very much doesn't care to be in a royal setting, not rejecting femininity just spinning the princess archetype on its head. So maybe she's a runaway, maybe she rescued herself, or maybe she faked her death or something extreme, and she runs into robin (maybe robins disguised and she looks extra rougish, maybe vickie had only heard bad stories about her) and they fight. if vickie wins she notices in her victory robins actual personality, realizes shes not aggressive like expected and they talk, and if robin wins she does a mercy thing, maybe disarms her to get enough time to run off and vickies like 🤨mysterious🤨 or they spark up conversation. Maybe part of Robins group comes in either ready to defend her or diffuse the situation and their appearance soon splits the fight. lots and lots to play with. one way or another vickie tags along or joins the group, she and robin fall in love, yippee

aaaand third option: polyarmory, where chrissy joins the group first, they run into vickie second, and the three of them fall in love.

fourth option: aro robin (lol get it. cause. arrows.) who picks up princesses (plus steve too) like its her job and those princesses fall in love

r*nance (* for search because this isn't exactly abt them, NOT to be a dick about it) could work too ig but its not my jam so im not diving into that angle

i also love the idea of expanding robins relationship with any of the kids (Dustin and especially Erica, because scoops troop has solid character dynamic potential thats barely touched. Robin and Max too, and it'd make sense to bring in Lucas too with his ties to both Erica and Max)

if this gives anyone else brainworms and you want to write it, absolutely go for it, i know im definitely not going to sit down and write scenes or anything for it, and if you're comfortable tag me so i can read it!!

for Wiggy Wednesday im tagging (no pressure ofc): @starry-eyed-steve @marvel-ous-m @lightoftheseraph @pearynice @puppy-steve

@tinytalkingtina @dreamwatch @flowercrowngods @withacapitalp @writing-kiki

@queenie-ofthe-void @carolperkinsexgirlfriend @eriquin @hairstevington @sunflowerharrington

@imfinereallyy @sourw0lfs

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ryik-the-writer · 8 months ago

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No one:

Me: You know who would have been better as Belle's infidelity partner than Will Scarlet? Jefferson.

Before I begin, THIS IS NOT A BELLE HATE POST! Yes, I am going to address IT, but I am not putting her down for this...and I'll tell you why.

So after that god-freaking-awful twist in 4x11 when Belle sends Rumple over the town line, both he and Belle are left shattered at their dubious betrayals, the latter of which so much so she sought additional comfort (again, not hate, just hear me out).

That love interest ... for whatever reason ... was Will Scarlet, a cameo from Once Upon a Time's short-lived spin-off OUAT in Wonderland, which had ended a few months prior.

I, along with a good chunk of the fanbase, thought it was a unique choice, and most likely a way to acknowledge the spin-off in canon.

Don't get me wrong, I like Will as a character in OUATIW, but he was just off to me in OUAT. Like he was just shoved in there without a real purpose. Even his scenes with Robin Hood felt forced to me.

And honestly, it seemed strange to me that Belle, the logical scholar and fruitful romantic, would break her wedding vows of all things even after what Rumple did.

BUT THEN AGAIN, I also don't think it's established how intensive wedding vows are in this universe. I mean, Snow technically cheated on David with Dr. Whale, and while it's addressed comedically, it's not really addressed as an issue in their marriage but they comfortably move on from none the less.

Of course, it's obviously just the show's weakest attempt at *drama* and a way to baffle the Rumbellers into stunned silence so they can focus on *other things* (I am NOT going THERE today.)

And I think I remember an article or something about Will's actor's Michael Socha, feeling underused and wanting out especially since he had a kid at home. While he has a few zingers between him and other characters like Rumple and Hook, he looks so awkward when he's on-screen with Belle, like even he doesn't know why he's there!

But for the sake of *drama* Belle needs some side yum. Cool. Girl's gotta work out her frustrations some way right? But WILL SCARLET?!

This Will Scarlet?

"I love you Anastasia Tremaine" Will Scarlet?

Who ripped his heart out because her betrayal was just too much?

For freaking sake, they had a TLK!!!

I will only, and I mean ONLY accept the following two theories as a reason why...this happened...

1. This takes place during Will and Anastasia's break.

It's established in the OUATIW that the events in the spinoff are happening sometime in either late-season 1 or early season 2's canon. I think. But maybe, just maybe, it was actually around season 4's timeline? The timeline is screwed to hell anyway so...

Ana's presence is established in OUAT after Will, who broke into the library and vandalized a copy of Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, is arrested and held indefinitely. And while Will looks distraught at the mention of his former love, but he's not devastated enough

The scene subsequently serves as a pointless but sweet way to introduce Belle and Will. I myself wrote a fic few years back as a way to fill in how that played out afterwards. But the actual writers just kind of tossed it in there.

And dropped it.

Yeah, WIll just kind of disappeared after season 4. Thanks for stopping by, I guess.

And btw, you cannot convince me that a guy who reacts like this after watching the love of his life get killed in front of him:

Like I kid you not, Will's screams and cries were stuck in my head after that episode. I gasped and covered my mouth. I remember feeling the same way when Graham died in OUAT because Emma's grief was just as raw as this. This is not the kind of grief you just up and move on with so casually. This sticks with you.

BACK TO JEFFERSON

Okay, I swear, I have a point.

Again, if Belle just *needed* a love interest during her break from Rumple, fine, but why not use the opportunity to do some freaking fan service after that Frozen mess?

Bring. Back. The. Hatter.

Why Jefferson?

He has an established relationship with Belle.

Even if the ugly truth is Jefferson had to know Belle was being held captive in the hospital asylum, Belle would still, begrudgingly, be grateful he freed her and reunited her with Rumplestiltskin. Maybe he tried apologizing with coffee, and...things happen.

Plus he has an established relationship with Rumplestiltskin PRIOR to Belle.

No. You cannot tell me these two:

...were just "business associates". No these two were hitting shroons in Wonderland every Tuesday at happy hour, do I make myself clear? It's obvious they weren't friends but they worked well together.

That scene in the shop would have been BANGER if Jefferson had been in Will's place. I mean the possibilities are endless with their establishment. They could have opened up an opportunity to explore more of Rumple's deals with Jefferson to find a way to the Land Without Magic, or even their shared connection with Regina, established, beloved connections in the series the audience would be comfortable with.

And honestly, I think Belle and Jefferson could have very nice chemistry too.

Their both worldly, and I can see these two sitting at a booth in Granny's forever as Jefferson told her her stories about his travels, maybe even a few tales about his deal and possible friendship with Rumplestiltskin. And maybe he helps her heal a bit.

That scene in 4x12 where Belle and Hook talk about Rumple really rubbed me the wrong way. What Rumple did to Belle and, yes, even Hook, was awful, but Hook never had to answer for his part in Rumple's decline. What did he think would happen if he threatened to blackmail him with Belle of all people?

Not to mention, Belle and Grace would have gotten along so well.

At this point in the series, Grace is a young teenager, and could possibly use a female presence. She like Henry, would probably understand that her father needs more companionship and would support their relationship. And it would be great foreshadowing to Belle's own relationship with her child later on. And Belle LOVES kids and could have formed a very promising bond with Grace. Regardless on how her relationship with Jefferson could have ended, Belle would have this girl over for sleepovers every week.

#doing this instead of updating my fics #-_-***#rumbelle #ouat #jefferson #the mad hatter #will scarlet #belle french #belle gold #rumplestiltskin #anti ouat #anti killian jones #anti hook #anastasia tremaine #scarlet queen

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chaoticsimp · 2 years ago

Text

My Commander

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18+ | MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Relationship: Erwin x Fem!Reader

Content Warnings: NSFW/18+, established relationship, mentions of alcohol (Reader isn't drunk, but has consumed alcohol), oral (female receiving), fingering, over-stim, dirty talk, praise, a little begging, unprotected sex, desk sex, creampie, some tears, squirting, dom/sub dynamic, authority kink (Use of Sir/Commander/Captain), age difference (Reader is in her 20s and I think Erwin is in his 30s?), experience difference? (Not Reader's first time, but first time with Erwin), fluff at the end.

A/N: Starts a little hot (heavy making out), but as always smut is under the cut.

I have missed Erwin, and we can dedicate why I started writing on Tumblr to him lol

Summary: You wanted him, all of him, but after a year together with nothing but sweet kisses, you started to question if he felt the same about you? Little did you know, he wanted you more than he had ever wanted anything.

Word Count: 3430

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It wasn’t your first date. It wasn’t even your second or fifth. You and Erwin had been together for a year, yet he was still pulling away when things got a little hot. It was beginning to frustrate you, what if he wasn’t interested in you that way? What if the experience levels were too different? Could he tell you couldn’t satisfy him from just a kiss? Were you a bad kisser? This outpouring of questions over drinks to Hange had them pushing you to bring it up to Erwin.

“Enter,” His deep voice summoned from behind the door. Your anxiety bubbled in your stomach, and you briefly wished you had taken another shot before coming. You pushed open the door, closing it behind you and a smile came to Erwin’s face when he looked up from his work.

“I know I’m late,” He apologized, rising from his desk. “I wanted to finish these reports before the end of the day, but it would seem my days never end.”

You nodded slightly, swallowing hard as you tried to find your nerve. Erwin noticed your hesitation and he stepped closer to you, his brilliant blue eyes filled with concern as he lifted a hand to your cheek.

“Is everything alright?” Instead of replying, you caught his collar and pulled him to your height pressing your lips to his. Erwin was caught off guard and had trouble getting any more words out as you jumped and wrapped your legs around his waist. His hands found your thighs, and he boosted you a little higher giving you a better angle to kiss his jaw and neck. Erwin’s mind was spinning, each kiss left fire on his skin, and a gentle nip at the bend in his neck made his breath hitch.

“Wait, wait,” He breathed. Erwin caught your hands, stopping them at his shirt buttons as he balanced you between him and the door. He met your stunning eyes, and you let out a heavy breath, a small smile on your lips.

“You don’t like it?” You asked. How could he say no? You’d know he was lying. Yet he saw the waver in your eyes, a moment of doubt as the flush on your face grew.

“Sorry, I-I don’t know what I was-” Erwin caught your thigh when you tried to step down. He claimed your lips again and pressed you tighter against the door enjoying how perfectly your body fit against his. He had thought of this before, thoughts he only indulged in late at night alone in his room, but this was something else. This was hunger finally satiated. No matter how much he told himself to slow down, each gasp and whimper that left those lips he so craved made that voice quieter, and quieter.

“E-Erwin,” You stammered, trying to focus on your words as his lips trailed down your jaw. “I thought you wanted to stop.”

“All I want is you.” His confession sent chills down your spine, and just as you were about to respond there was a knock on his door. Erwin covered your mouth as he continued to kiss down your neck and towards your chest. He managed to undo your top buttons with his teeth. He felt your breath against his hand, a soundless whimper as the knock came a second time making fear swirl with the growing heat in your stomach. You briefly considered biting his hand to get him to stop, but you didn’t want him to even as the knock came a third time.

“Commander Smith, Premier Zachary wanted those reports in tonight.” It was Miche. Erwin had managed to undo all your buttons, and he dropped his hand from your mouth to pull open your top.

“Commander Smith?”

“Just a moment,” He finally replied. He quietly let you down, and you noticed the hard outline in his pants as he walked back to his desk. He picked up a stack of papers then returned to the door. He put a finger to his lips, and you tensed when he opened the door.

“Here you are.” Erwin kept the door closed enough to hide you and his body angled to hide the stiffness in his pants.

“Are you coming to the bar?”

“Not tonight,” Erwin replied, and he noticed the amused smile on Miche’s face.

“Have a goodnight then, Commander, and please tell the Captain the same.” Your face burned red as Erwin closed and locked the door. He chuckled when you hid your face in your hands.

“He could definitely smell me.” Being forward in a private setting was one thing, but having someone else know made you want to disappear.

“Miche knows how to keep a secret,” Erwin assured you as he pulled you back in. Your mouth slanted to his, and any thought of Miche disappeared as Erwin’s tongue prodded at your lips.

Erwin recognized the bitter taste of alcohol, which he knew might be fueling your desires, and he was prepared to stop at any moment. You made quick work of his buttons, and he shed his shirt prompting you to do the same. The feeling of your skin against his made his heart race – he couldn’t believe he finally had you in his hands, so eager for him and what he could give you.

“I didn’t think you wanted me this way,” You admitted shyly, pausing to catch your breath as Erwin’s hands ran down your back.

“My dear, I want you in every way.”

“But you never-”

“I didn’t want to pressure you. If I had known this is what you wanted, I’d have happily obliged,” He assured you. Erwin’s hands moved lower, reaching under your thighs and lifting you back up between him and the door.

“I want to know every part of you, every sound, every move, how you taste, what you like. I want to worship you. I only wanted to be sure you wanted the same, but we can stop if you’re not ready.” You knew he was sincere, no matter how much he wanted you and how openly he confessed his desires. If you said you were done, he would be too. There were zero expectations, and zero pressure which only encouraged you.

“I want you.”

Your confidence was all Erwin needed to continue. He boosted you a little higher, his fingers dug into your thighs as he dropped his mouth to one of your breasts. Your breath hitched as he sucked a nipple into his mouth, and your head fell back against the door. He released one of your thighs which you kept hooked around his waist as his other hand worked on unzipping your pants. He switched to your other breast, and you gasped when his teeth grazed your nipple.

“Erwin,” You whined, wanting more.

“Sir,” He muttered against your skin, and your face burned a little brighter.

“And I believe I’ve advised you on patience before my little Captain.” He continued to suck and nip at your breasts. You felt his palm press against your clothed cunt, and briefly met his gaze when he looked up.

“Are you prepared to follow my every command?” He whispered, and you nodded quickly.

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Y-Yes, sir.” He smiled against your skin, his mouth leaving your breast and his hand returning to your thigh as he carried you. Erwin gently lowered you onto his desk. He pulled off your boots, then your pants taking your panties with them. Your skin dimpled at the rush of cool air, and your heart sped up as he lifted your legs, spreading you out before him.

“I’ve dreamt of you bent over my desk,” He mused. “Not even my dreams could compare to this.”

Erwin’s words continued to push away any doubt you may have had when you walked in. He knelt, hooking your legs over his shoulders and you could feel his breath against your thighs. Your stomach twisted in anticipation as he kissed down your inner thighs, purposely avoiding the place you wanted him to hit.

“You’re already so wet for me,” He muttered against your skin. “Are you really so desperate for my touch?”

“Yes, yes. It’s all I want, please,” You panted, nodding as he kissed closer to your core.

“Please?”

“S-Sir,” You stammered.

“I suppose I could have a taste.” You gasped as he dipped his tongue between your folds, his grip on your thighs tightening as if to tell himself to slow down – to savour you. His tongue circled your clit, and your body jolted in response as he repeated the motion. He glanced up at you, your hands held your breasts one pinching your nipple as your mouth hung slightly open. He sucked on your bundle of nerves, and your mouth opened a little wider in response causing him to pause. You whined as you lifted your head, looking down at him – at his perfect face between your thighs.

“You’ve never looked better,” You breathed, and a smile pulled at Erwin’s lips as he held your gaze.

“I would live between your thighs if I could,” He confessed. “But you’re holding back.”

“What if, if someone hears or Miche comes back?” Your breath stuttered as he dragged his pointer finger down your slit, and gently prodded at your entrance. You stared down at him as he lifted his hand, and licked your slick from his finger. That heat in your stomach grew when he smirked a little.

“Then they’ll hear you serving your Commander,” He teased, and it made your face redden. “But if that is such a concern, then try and hold back all you wish.”

Before you could say anything, Erwin’s mouth dropped back to your cunt, this time with a new hunger. You bit your lip hard as Erwin devoured you, expertly hitting every spot that made you squirm. He released one of your thighs, and you nearly bit through your lip as he pressed a finger into you. Your thighs tightened around his head, and you wondered how much longer you could hold out.

“Fuck,” You whispered, still trying to keep quiet. The papers on Erwin’s desk crinkled as you tried to find something to grip, something to ground you from the immense ecstasy that was Erwin’s tongue. Erwin added a second finger, seeking that soft spot that was sure to break you as one of your hands found the back of his head. He felt your grip tighten, and knew he found it the moment a moan finally escaped your lips.

“E-Erwin, please slow down,” You whined, but your request fell on deaf ears as he hit that spot again, and again, and again. His relentless pace had you barreling towards an orgasm, your back arched against his desk and you couldn’t get the words out as it crashed over you. The noise that left your lips was music to Erwin’s ears, and he pulled his mouth from your clit but kept his fingers moving as he looked up at you.

“I-I’ve never, I’ve-I’ve,” You had to pause, and noticed the pride that shone in Erwin’s eyes as he looked down at you, waiting for you to catch your breath.

“I’ve never cum that fast.”

“I know a thing or two,” He replied, pulling you back when your hips wiggled away.

“I-I just need a minute to...” But Erwin was already kissing down your thighs.

“How many can you give me?” He whispered, and you quickly realized what he was asking. It shouldn’t have surprised you. This was the man whose ambition and determination made him the best Commander the Scouts had ever had. His relentless will is who he was and of course, that would extend to the private parts of his life.

“Captain, I asked you a question,” Erwin reminded, pressing a kiss so close to your clit it made you shiver in delight. If you were being honest with yourself, you weren’t sure, but the thought of him lost between your thighs for a while longer had that warmth in your stomach reigniting.

“However many you want, My Commander.” The use of his title ignited something in his eyes. It was a name Erwin was used to hearing, but coming from you? Perfect little you, splayed out on his desk like a lavish meal – he would never be able to hear it the same way again.

“That’s my good girl.”

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When you said however many times you want, you were being bold. You were trying to play the game as well as he did, and part of you didn’t believe Erwin had the stamina to keep up with such an indulgent response. Yet here you were, still splayed across his desk. Your thighs trembling, your cunt dripping, and your throat sore as he pulled orgasm after orgasm out of you, and he hadn’t even fucked you.

“Just one more,” He requested, and you looked down at him. You could already see the bruises left behind by his fingerprints, small gifts left on your thighs and hips that would remind you of this moment long after it was over.

Erwin wiped his chin as he finally stood. His thumb replaced his lips against your swollen clit and your body shook in response, much to his pleasure as he eyed the mess you had made on his desk.

“I-I don’t think I can,” You confessed as he pulled you to a sitting position. He dropped his mouth to yours, pressing his tongue past your lips. Your mind was a haze, a haze of him, of his hands on your skin and your taste on his tongue. A string of saliva connected the two of you when he pulled back, he swiped it away with his thumb and pet your bottom lip as he held your gaze.

“You can,” He encouraged. “Or will you disappoint your Commander?”

“Of course not,” You objected.

“Good girl.” You trusted your weight in Erwin’s hands as he effortlessly turned you around. He pushed you back down on the desk, your cheek pressed against the crumpled papers and his hands briefly left you. You heard the undoing of his belt and realized you were the only one completely naked. How long had it been since you came into his office?

“Are you sure you still want more?” You nodded tiredly.

“I can take it,” You breathed, and Erwin chuckled. You felt him press a kiss to the back of your shoulder, and his breath sent chills down your spine.

“I know you can but tell me if anything hurts.” Erwin lifted one of your legs onto his desk before dragging his length between your folds. The anticipation returned, bringing with it a spike of energy you didn’t know you still had as he coated himself in your juices. Then you finally felt him, felt his hard, thick cock press against your entrance. His groan distracted you as he pushed past that first ring of muscle. Nothing could compare to the beautiful sound of his deep moans and his whispers of 'so good' and 'so tight' as he slowly sunk into you.

“You take me so well” Erwin mumbled once he was fully sheathed inside you. The stretch was a pleasurable sting. Your walls fluttered around his length, clenching as they molded against his cock, and he took a moment to enjoy your warmth and how perfectly he fit inside you.

“You were made for me.” Erwin’s compliments made your heart flutter, they made you want to please him and give him everything you could. So, when you felt ready and adjusted to his size you pressed on.

“M-More.” Erwin was impressed, he thought he had reached the limits of your stamina but here you were, trembling from the pleasure and exertion still asking for more. He regretted waiting so long. If he knew this is how badly you wanted him, needed him, he’d have given it all to you a year ago.

“I’ll give you everything,” He promised. You gripped the edge of the desk as Erwin pulled out, then pushed back in, his veins dragging along your velvety walls. His hands dug into the meat of your hips as his pace picked up enough to make the desk shake. You were lost in him, in his soft grunts, in how his hands held you in place, in his deep, commanding voice that made you want to bend to his will. You didn’t know if you’d ever get enough of him or how good he made you feel.

Erwin lifted your other leg onto his desk, and the new angle allowed his cock to graze your soft spot with every ruthless thrust. You felt tears spilling down your cheek as Erwin looped a hand beneath you, his fingers finding your over-sensitized clit. You were on the line between pain and pleasure, and an unfamiliar pressure between your legs had your mind spinning.

“I-I can’t,” You cried. “It’s too much, I-I-”

“You can,” He interrupted gently. “Just let go.”

Erwin’s pace didn’t slow. Your vision blurred at the edges as he drew tighter circles on your clit. Your body shuddered, and your nails dug into the wood of his desk. That pressure kept building, and only Erwin seemed to know where it was heading. You were dancing on the line, but you were still missing something.

“I-I just need a little more,” You pleaded, and Erwin found himself wondering what more could you possibly need.

“Tell me,” He demanded, slowing enough to give you a chance to speak. You managed to look back at him over your shoulder, his eyes dark with lust as he stared down at you.

“Cum,” You panted. “Cum inside me, please a-and don’t stop.”

Erwin didn’t need the please, the request was enough for him to return to his ruthless pace but your sweet 'please' and 'don’t stop' were the cherry on top. You were so perfect, so beautiful bent over his desk just like he had imagined. No, not even his imagination couldn’t compare to the sight of his cock plunging in and out of you. You really were made for him. Erwin’s hips stuttered, his thrusts slowing as a low moan escaped his lips and his cum poured inside of you.

“Is this what you wanted?” He whispered, thrusting into you slowly and deeply. “To be filled by your Commander, to be mine and mine alone?”

“Yes, yes, yes…” You cried.

“Then be my good little Captain and give me what you promised.” You were right there, right on the edge as he fucked his cum into you, but his words were the last thing you needed to let it all go. That pressure exploded, and you felt a gush between your legs, coating your thighs and Erwin’s in your pleasure. You screamed till your voice went silent, your back arching painfully as your nails dug into the desk.

“That’s it, that’s a good girl. Let it all out,” Erwin cooed. You barely heard him above the pleasure, your body collapsed on his desk, and your vision briefly darkened. Erwin pulled out of you, watching his cum mix with your juices as they dripped down your thighs. It was truly a beautiful sight to behold. He called your name, and when you didn’t respond he carefully lifted you off his desk.

“Come back,” He spoke gently, holding your trembling body against his as he took a seat in the office chair behind him.

“I’m right here, I’ve got you,” He whispered against your skin. It took you a moment, your lids felt heavy as you opened them and you smiled when you saw Erwin’s concerned face.

“Are you alright, my dear?”

“Was that good?” You asked, answering his question with your own and Erwin almost laughed.

“That was everything I wanted and more. You are incredible.” Your smile grew a little as Erwin lifted you into his arms, and your head fell against his shoulder.

“I love you,” You mumbled. “My Commander.”

“You’re going to have to stop calling me that.” You managed a small laugh.

“Does my voice have such an effect on you?”

“Everything about you has an effect on me,” He replied. “And after tonight I won’t be able to think of my title in any other way.”

“Good,” You replied, staring up at him with so much love in your eyes Erwin thought he would melt. He noticed you fighting sleep and pressed a gentle kiss against your forehead.

“Rest, I’ll take care of everything else.”

#erwin x reader #erwin x y/n #erwin x you #commander erwin #erwin smut #attack on titan erwin #erwin smith #aot x reader #erwin attack on titan #aot x you #aot x y/n #aot smut

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right-there-ride-on · 4 months ago

Text

Figuring out the Context surrounding Funny Valentine

cw: blood, torture, implied rape, discussion about the Confederacy

I was originally going to make a post about nationalism in SBR but to do that I think I need a better understanding of SBR's antagonist; hence this post.

Let's start with the backstory. It's revealed to us late-game, literally during the narrative climax, as Valentine attempts to find the resolve to overcome Johnny's Infinite Spin. What's the difference between regular resolve and dark determination? umm I'll get back to you on that. Anyway, we are treated to a flashback with young Funny on the day a friend of his father's visits Funny and his mother.

To clarify, the friend's name is Captain Valentine. Which means that after he shares the news of Funny's father's death he ends up marrying Funny's mother and becoming his stepfather and giving Funny the last name Valentine.

I'm posting the whole flashback so you'll have the full context of what I'm talking about.

Chapter 87: Ball Breaker (Part 5)

I wanted to try and find out what war this was, so I did some research.

According to JOJOVELLER: Stands (pg. 294), Funny Valentine is 43 years old. SBR takes place in 1890. 1890 - 43 = 1847. Thus Funny Valentine was born in 1847. (Also, I only realized after doing the math, it's stated that the date on the handkerchief is Funny's birthday and it clearly says 1847. Lol)

Funny is clearly stated to be seven years old in the flashback, meaning that Capt. Valentine's visit takes place in 1854.

Keeping in mind how long it took to travel back then, as well as taking into account that it seems somewhat implied Capt. Valentine waited awhile to bring the handkerchief to the family, either with Funny's father until he died or sometime after his burial, I'm going to suggest the date ranges for the war are between 1847 - 1853.

Furthermore, Capt. Valentine mention he is a member of the calvary, which wasn't officially established until 1861.

However, there were temporary calvary units created during times of need, so I'll be looking at those as well.

On wikipedia, the list of U.S. conflicts during that timeframe include:

Texas-Comanche Wars (1836 - 1875)

Mexican-American War (1846 - 1848)

Cayuse War (1847 - 1855)

Apache Wars (1849-1924)

Navajo Wars (1849 - 1866)

However, the conflict is also explicitly mentioned as ending.

Which is why I'm going to suggest Funny's father did not participate in any of the Native American conflicts. That really only leaves the Mexican-American war. To further support this, wikipedia also states that a calvary was raised to fight as well.

What happened to Funny's father during the Mexican-American war likely fueled his xenophobia.

As for the Valentine himself, we know he also fought in a war and received scars in the shape of the American flag. Counting the ones that seem to be bullet holes (possibly), there's 14 that I counted. Why not 13, for the 13 colonies? Or 13 for the flag he uses in Philidelphia? I'm not sure. The only connection I can make is that June 14th is Flag Day.

Chapter 62: Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap

It's a bit harder to place what war Valentine fought in. We know he was in San Diego, but there are actually two versions of why he was there.

One is that, while in Congress (after the war) he discovered Joseph of Arimathea's Map of the Corpse Parts in the British Parliament in 1889. Not knowing what it was, he traveled with a Puritan search party to the first cross on the map in San Diego and obtained the Corpse Heart. All in the party but him died, and he testified that they were caught in quicksand.

Chapter 30: Scary Monsters (Part 3)

The second backstory is that Valentine was with a group of soldiers when they came across a Devil's Palm. Once again Valentine was the sole survivor.

Chapter 67: D4C (Part 2)

This second backstory seems to be more in-line with the Valentine seen in Chapter 62, and this backstory better matches Valentine's scars. Although we know D4C allows Valentine to dimension-hop, we also know that only the base universe has the corpse. These two backstories can't exist together. To keep things simple, I'll chalk up the original backstory as early weirdness and continue with the assumption that the second backstory is the one Araki wants us to pay attention to.

First, let's consider the timeline. Assuming that Valentine indeed served in Congress before running for President, we still don't know if he served in the House or Senate, or even what state he would have represented.

A House term is two years.

A Senate term is six years.

I think someone like Valentine would have shot for the longer term limits, so I'm going to assume he ran and won a seat in the Senate, likely several times. Working backwards from 1890:

He won the presidential bid in 1888 and was sworn in in 1889

Six years prior would have been 1882

Let's say he did a term before that as well, which puts us at 1876.

So, we'll say he started his political career in 1876.

This means any wars he participated in would have had to have been before 1876. The war could have been a Native American conflict, which I think is somewhat likely due to Valentine's troop being positioned in San Diego. However, considering Valentine's scars were received from being captured and tortured by the enemy, and given the shape of them, it's fairly likely he received the scars during the Civil War. Keep in mind though that we don't know whether he received the scars or the Corpse Heart first, which would impact the timeline. I'll continue by assuming he received the scars first.

Noticeably, in the Chapter 67 flashback, Valentine isn't a young man but appears to be an adult. The Enrollment Act of 1863 conscripted all men between 20 and 45 to fight for the Union, but we can't base our age estimation entirely on this because Valentine is die-hard patriot and likely would have volunteered as soon as he was eligible.

So let's say he was 17 during the time of that flashback. 1847 + 17 = 1864. That's during the Civil War timeframe (as the Civil War ended in 1866). I feel safe to say that he fought in the Civil War.

There's another piece of evidence to consider as well, which is the uniform. Unfortunately I am not Civil War historian nor someone with a good eye for design, so I cannot say for certain which side his uniform appears to be from. All we can really see is the dark color and two buttons on the cuff. I'm not completely sure on this, but I think the two buttons may have indicated nicer uniforms, which may have indicated Valentine had a somewhat high rank.

Confederate Formal Uniform Example:

Source: File:The photographic history of the Civil War - thousands of scenes photographed 1861-65, with text by many special authorities (1911) (14782791043).jpg - Wikimedia Commons

Union Uniform Example:

Source: File:General Benjamin Butler Brady-Handy.jpg - Wikimedia Commons

And here's a more direct comparison:

Source: Yankees Civil War Uniform (animalia-life.club)

Or for a compressed version: OnlineResize.club. Resize image, Crop pics, Add instagram effect.

Again, I can't say for certain, and the way that the uniform is drawn doesn't make it completely clear. While the shape of the coat appears to generally resemble the Union uniform, to me it appears the hat is closer to the Confederate Kepi. Knowing what state he was from would certainly help; if we extrapolate that his father fought in the Mexican-American war, then possibly we can infer it was a Southern State, but I also am wary about suggesting that because I'm unsure how much political success a former Confederate could have had in a heavily Republican Congress.

I want to emphasize that none this is certain, but based on the information we have these are my best guesses. If you want to take a crack at it, here's wikipedia's comprehensive timeline of U.S. military conflicts. It's entirely possible he fought and was captured by the native people, which would support his placement in San Diego during the time of his enrollment in the army and would have given him a generally stronger position in Congress to base his platform off of (as opposed to if he had been a Confederate). It's also entirely possible he was in the Union and fought to keep the country together, which I see as in line with his ideals of patriotism and authoritarianism. And as discussed above, it's also possible he was part of the Confederacy, then was absorbed into the Union post-Civil war before beginning his political career. I couldn't find the details to support any one of these over the others.

So, based on all the available evidence, my tentative timeline is this:

Valentine volunteers for the army in the Civil War (1864)

Valentine is captured and scarred (?)

Valentine is re-assigned to training post-war in San Diego (between 1866 - 1876)

Valentine makes his congressional run (1876)

Valentine wins Senate re-election (1882)

Valentine runs for presidency and wins (1888)

At some point in the future, maybe I'll write about Valentine and American Nationalism and all those fun things, but for now this was my attempt at figuring out the specifics of Valentine's backstory and the sort of circumstances he sprung from.

If you got this far, thank you for reading!

#funny valentine #steel ball run #i apologize if this is messy just a brainworm i let wriggle #sbr #jjba #sbr analysis #my posts

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chickensarentcheap · 10 months ago

Text

Lost and Found- Chapter 27

Fandom: Extraction

Pairing: Tyler Rake and Esme Drummond (established OFC. You do NOT have to read the other fics in the series to understand this one)

Warnings: some profanity, mentions of blood, bruises, physical injuries

Tagging: @tragiclyhip @youflickedtooharddamnit @secretaryunpaid @thebejeweledwatercat @fanficanatic-tw @munstysmind @themaradwrites @asirensrage @kmc1989 @karimac @ninjasawakenedmystar @theesirenteller @residentdormouse @arrthurpendragon @ocappreciationtag @occommunity @alisbackalleybbq

Link to Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43179357/chapters/134993251

My tag list is OPEN. Just let me know if you'd like to be added :)

****

When she wakes, it’s to the glow of the bedside monitor and the ribbons of moonlight that stream into the room. As the waves of the Tyrrhenian Sea vigorously lap at the base of the cliffs, a steady, crisp breeze flows through the open window; fluttering the curtains as the scent of salt fills the room.

She’s confused and disoriented. Days spent drifting out of consciousness; never fully aware of her surroundings, the identities of the people tending to her, or the validity of the conversations she partook in. Kept on high and frequent doses of medication as her body began the healing process; wanting to spare her the overwhelming stress that the intense and constant pain would inflict upon her. It takes several minutes for her surroundings to register; the disjointed and muddled mess of thoughts causing her head to swim as the room spins around her. Her mouth and throat are impossibly dry; finding it painful to swallow, her cracked and peeling lips burning when she dares to run the tip of her tongue along them. Her limbs feel impossibly heavy and rooted to the mattress below; the accompanying pain dull, yet manageable. A far cry from the agony she’d experienced after the accident; the memories of that afternoon returning slowly yet terrifying vividly.

“Tyler?” Her voice is barely above a whisper. Initially believing she’s speaking to an empty room, she gives a small start when she hears movement at the side of the bed. Then manages both a sigh of relief and a small smile as he drops his cell phone onto the mattress and slides his chair closer.

“Hey…”

The smile reaches his eyes, crinkling the corners. The first time she’d ever seen it, it had taken her breath away; the way the years seemed to drop away from his face and off his shoulders. Only to be replaced by a softness and a beauty not expected from a man like him. Weary and laden with unspeakable burdens; the traumas he’d endured for most of his life, the things he’d seen and done during his tours of duty with the military, the lives he’d taken during his time as a mercenary. And while others had deemed him reckless and dangerous, he’d been the only person who’d ever made her feel safe. Secure. Protected.

He briefly stands, leaning over the bed and running a hand over her hair. Hooking a finger under her chin, he gently tilts her face towards him; his lips gracing hers with the most delicate of kisses. “...sleeping beauty awakes.”

“I appreciate you trying to feed my ego, but I already know I’m a mess. And not a hot one, either.”

“You’re still here. Alive and on the mend. Can’t get much more beautiful than that.”

“Jesus, you really ARE the most biased man on the planet.”

“Biased or not, it’s true.” Pulling the chair as close as he can to the edge of the bed, he sits once more. A palm resting on the top of her head as his thumb repeatedly brushes against her brow and his free hand holds one of hers. How ya feelin’?”

“I’m not entirely sure. Better, I guess? Considering how I felt when it first happened…” She gingerly reaches across her body; careful to not upset the various tubes and wires and the IV needle that pierces the top of her hand. Allowing her fingertips to gently explore the various cuts and bruises that mar his face and neck. “Are you okay?”

“You don’t need to worry about me.”

“Excuse me? Have we met? I worry. It’s what I do. You should know that by now.”

“Of all the times you should be ignoring what I look like and what I’m doing.…”

“That’s impossible. I’ll never stop worrying about you; no matter what’s going on with me. I spent five years worrying; wondering how you were doing and if you were staying safe, and just hoping and praying you’d be alright. Every time Nik would tell me about a job you’d take…”

“You know, you could have cut out the middleman and just talked to me.”

“I wanted to, so many times. Do you know how many text messages I erased instead of sending them? How many times I’d call and get your voicemail, then just hang up without leaving anything? More than I like to admit.”

“I used to call your cell,” he sheepishly admits. “ The one you left behind. Just to listen to your outgoing message. Hear your voice.”

“Did it make you feel better?”

“Sometimes. And sometimes it made me mad as hell.”

“I’m sorry, Tyler. I am so sorry. And I know it seems like I’m constantly saying that, but…”

“Let’s not talk about it right now, okay? If there was ever a time NOT to…”

“What better time could there be? Not much else I can do.”

“It’s not important right now. We’ll get lots of time later. Believe me. When all this is over, and we’re finally home and settled, we can deal with everything else. But right now…” Cupping her cheek in his palm, the pad of his thumb tenderly glides over one of the many bruises that grace her skin. “...let’s just concentrate on you. Getting you better. And home.”

“That’s all I want. To go home. I mean, not that it actually IS my home. It’s not like I’ve ever lived there. I didn’t…”

“It is, though. Your home. OUR home. It’s the one we bought together. Made all kinds of plans for. The last five years didn’t just erase all of that.”

“But I never actually lived there. Other than when we first looked at it with the realtor, I’ve never even stepped through the front door.”

“That doesn’t matter. At least not to me. It’s always been your home, Me. It’s always been the place where you belong.”

Tears glisten in her eyes. “Why are you like this?”

“Like what?”

“Like THIS. The way you are with me. The way you’ve always been. Why do you love me like you do?”

“Do I need to have a reason?”

“After everything I’ve done, after hurting you like I did, you still love me. Way more than anyone else ever has. Or could. Why?”

“Because I do. Isn’t that enough?”

“I don’t deserve it. Not after…”

“That’s just your guilt talking.”

“I have a reason to be guilty. Everything I did to you..”

“Esme, I love you. I have ALWAYS loved you. And I always held out hope that one day you’d just walk back into my life. I only wish it had been a little sooner.”

“If I only called you sooner. Not waited so long. If I’d just…”

“But you didn’t. And you can’t change that. You can’t go back and make different choices. And you know what, that’s going to suck for a long time. Believe me, I know. There are a couple of things I wish I could go back and change. Have a re-do.”

“When it comes to us? To me?”

“The only thing I’d change is that I’d stay home that day; instead of going to Broome with Koen. And I should have. Stayed with you. You were sick, and you needed me and I..”

“I thought it was stress. Or that I’d come down with something. I wasn’t bedridden. I didn’t need you to wait on me and food and baby me. I…”

“I should have stayed. It’s the one time I didn’t listen to my gut. And look what happened.”

“You being there wouldn’t have changed things. The adjudicator still would have shown up. If anything, your being there would have made things worse. I know what you’re like, Tyler. When it comes to me. How protective you are. How you wouldn’t think twice about hurting someone…even killing them…when it comes to me. That wouldn’t have ended well. If you’d laid hands on them.”

“Maybe not. But we could have gone through it together. Found a place to hide out while Nik dealt with everything. You leaving? That wasn’t the only option.”

“I was scared. I wanted to protect you. Everything I did that day, I did for you- to keep you safe. I never did any of it to hurt you.”

“I know that. And I’m starting to accept it. You just need to give me some time, yeah? To deal with all of it? Work through it? I need that from you. Time.”

“As long as you don’t want to go through it alone. As long as it means that it’s the three of us dealing with it all together. Me, you, Millie. That’s what you want, right? The three of us sticking together?”

“I wouldn’t think of NOT doing it that way. I’m not going anywhere- not now, not ever. You need to trust me when I tell you that.”

“I do trust you. I’ve always trusted you. You’re the only person I really DO trust. To this extent, anyway.”

“Then trust me when I tell you that we don’t need to be dealing with this right now. We’re going to have lots of time to talk about things. Work through them. But right now? Right now needs to be about you. And getting you back on your feet and finally home. That’s all that matters. Can we agree? To just focus on that?”

Esme nods.

Giving her a wink, he leans in to press a kiss to her brow)

Her fingertips continue the investigation of his face and neck; tracing over healing cuts and thriving bruises. “I think you’re going to have a few new scars. To add to your collection. Nothing major, but…”

“Wouldn’t be one of my jobs if I didn’t get a little fucked up.”

“You do have a bad habit of messing yourself up, that’s for sure. Why it has to be the face, I’ll never know. Of all things? The face? Really?”

“I appreciate your concern for the rest of my body,” he teases. “And my mental health.”

“This one will always be my favourite.” She runs a fingertip over the scar that curves over the bridge of his nose. “Always.”

“How ARE you feeling? And don’t bullshit me.”

“I feel fine. Well, I don’t know if ‘fine’ is the right word, but I know I feel a lot better than I did…” She frowns, her voice trailing off.

“What? What’s wrong? What…?”

“How many days HAS it been? Since we left New York? What day is it today?”

“It’s Friday.”

“What? Friday? Are you sure?”

“I’m fully aware of what day it is.”

“But we left on Monday. How can it already be Friday? I’ve been out that long? What…?”

“You’ve been on some really strong meds. Heavy-duty stuff. You’ve been in and out. Never fully conscious, though. The doctor thought it was for the best; let your body heal without trying to fight back against the pain.”

“Did you think it was for the best?”

“I wouldn’t have told him to go ahead with it if I didn’t. I didn’t want you in constant pain. I know what it’s like; to always be in agony. I didn’t want that for you. Of all people who don’t deserve that…”

“Thank you. For taking care of me. Fighting for me.”

“It’s what we do, yeah? Take care of each other? Isn’t that what you always say?”

She nods.

“It was my turn anyway. Considering everything you had to do? After Dhaka?”

“I didn’t HAVE to do it. I wanted to do it.”

“Just like I want to take care of you. No more running. I’m not that guy anymore. I haven’t been him in a long time.”

“I’ve never known that Tyler. I’ve only ever known that one who will do anything and everything he has to protect me. THAT’S the Tyler I know. The one I fell in love with.”

He presses a kiss to her temple. “I do have a bone to pick with you, though.��

“Uh-oh.”

“You scared the fucking shit out of me. Seeing you like that. After the accident.”

“It wasn’t intentional. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Just don’t do it again, yeah? I’m not getting any younger. My heart can only take so much.”

“Noted. I’ll be on my best behaviour from here on out. You know what the good thing is? That once this is all over and we’re finally settled, we won’t have to worry about this kind of thing anymore. Let alone go through it. It’ll all be behind us. No more stressing over whether or not the last time you walk out the front door really IS the last time.”

“I hate to break it to you, but you’re kinda walking away from danger and right into another. You do realize you’re gonna be married to a firefighter, right?”

“As scary and as dangerous as that is, I will take it over you being a mercenary any day of the week. Not to take away from your skills or your talent. Because you’re amazing at what you do. But…”

“It’s time. For something new. Something normal.”

“Whatever ‘normal’ is when it comes to us. We’ve never really been ‘normal’.”

“Our own brand of normal, I guess. We weren’t meant to be like everyone else. And who wants to be? That’s boring as hell.”

“I’m okay with whatever brand of normal we come up with.”

“Speaking of being okay, you never really answered my question. About how you’re feeling.”

“I feel kinda weird, to be honest. The last thing I really remember is being with Nik and Yaz. On our way to the airport. When you gave me that morphine. Everything after that is a complete blur. Just the mashup of moments and words and sounds. I know that doesn’t make sense.”

“I remember feeling like that. After waking up from that coma. So it makes total sense to me. Have any pain?”

“A little. Nothing serious, though.”

“They almost weaned you completely off the IV meds. They’ll want to start you on oral stuff in the morning. They don’t want you hooked up to anything once you go home. Think you can manage that? Getting rid of all those tubes and wires?”

“I can definitely manage that.”

“Do you need anything? Something to drink? Eat?”

“I AM thirsty. And I definitely could eat. Honestly, I feel like I could eat the shit out of a dead hippo, right about now.”

He chuckles. “Now I know where she got it from. Millie said the same thing the other day. When she woke up and wanted breakfast.”

“Well, there is at least a little bit of me inside of her. A few of my genes. She can’t be EXACTLY like you.”

“She’s like me in all the best ways, though.”

“She’s beautiful, like you. That’s for sure.”

“You just had to go and insult me. Call me the ‘b’ word.”

“Regardless of what you think, you can be both badass AND beautiful. You check both boxes. Among many others.”

“You are so good for my ego.” Cradling her bruised cheek in his palms, he places a long, soft kiss on her lips. “I’ll go downstairs and see what I can round up. You feel like anything in particular or…?”

“Cheese toast.”

“I can’t believe you still eat that stuff,” he chides. “Thought you would have grown out of that by now.”

“It’s my favourite comfort food. That, and your lasagna. Remember how I’d always ask you to make that? If I wasn’t feeling well or I was just having a really shitty day? And you always did it. No questions asked. No bitching or moaning about it.”

“I liked making you happy. I still do. Besides, if Esme wasn’t having a good day, no one was.”

“I always felt I’d found the proverbial needle in the haystack. A guy that can fuck well, fix his own truck, AND cook? Nothing sexier than that combo.”

“You know, when it comes to men, your standards are very low.”

“Well, I mean, there’s a lot of things that are sexy about you. I have a very extensive list.”

“Like I said, you’re really good at stroking my ego. Among other things.”

(laughs, then winces when it causes pain and discomfort in her ribs)

“You just relax, okay? I’ll go and make you something to eat. Bring you some tea. It’ll do some good to get some food into you.”

He stands and leans over the bed; index finger once more hooking under her chin and tilting her head back in order to kiss her. Skimming his knuckles over her bruised cheek, she grabs his hand when he attempts to step away from the bed; squeezing tightly as he glances down at her. Scowling at the look of fear and worry that lines her brow and creases the corners of her eyes.

“You’re coming back, right?”

“I mean unless something happens to me on the way to the kitchen or on my way back here…”

“Promise me. That you’re coming back.”

“I’m coming back.” He chooses to assure as opposed to scolding her for thinking so irrationally. “I already told you, Me. I’m not going anywhere. Ever.”

****

He returns with a tray laden with food and a small pot of tea; discovering that she’s managed to sit herself up in bed and now leans back against a selection of pillows stacked behind her. In spite of the bruises that decorate her face and various parts of her body, her colour has started to return; days spent a sickly, almost deathly gray, her skin impossibly dry. She’s starting to look like Esme again; able to smile, the sparkle back in her eyes, her sunken cheeks beginning to fill out. Clarity and understanding quickly restored; now fully conscious and aware of her surroundings. It’s a relief to see her like this; knowing the extent of her injuries and how close things had come to being so much worse. And when she beams at him as approaches the bed, it helps the last of his fears and worries subside.

“I see you made it back safe and sound. No one tried to kidnap you.”

“I was jumped in the hallway. Fought them off. Told them they may be mean and tough, but they don’t come close to you when you’re hangry.”

“I am not THAT bad.”

“I’ve lived with you. You ARE that bad.

“Got ya a little bit of everything.” Placing the tray across her lap, he takes a seat on the edge of the mattress. “Cheese toast, some apple sauce, some pasta that was left over from dinner, some tea.”

“I know I said I was hungry, and I really do appreciate you wanting to wait on me hand and foot, but…”

“You don’t have to eat it all. Just a bit of each. Do what you can.”

As she attempts to eat, he tends to the tea. Filling the waiting mug and adding a splash of milk, he keeps a quiet, watchful eye on her as she attempts to eat; her hands furiously trembling, making it impossible to even lift the food, never mind get it to her mouth. Instead of immediately jumping to her aid, he allows her to keep trying; knowing the enormity of both her stubbornness and her hatred for being too ‘dependent’ on another person. And it isn’t until she mutters profanities and begins to tear up that he finally steps in; sliding closer to her just as her lower lip and chin begin to tremble.

“Here…” Cupping a hand under her chin, uses the other to bring a slice of cheese toast to her lips. “...let’s make it easier on you.”

“You shouldn’t have to do this.”

“No one HAS to do anything. I’m doing it ‘cause I want to.”

“It’s embarrassing. I’m a grown-ass adult. I shouldn’t need someone to feed me.”

“Did you think that way when you were doing it for me? After Dhaka? That I was a grown man and should be able to do it myself?”

“You almost died. You were in a coma for seven months. You needed my help.”

“And you’ve gotten yourself fucked up pretty good, and you need my help.”

“It’s not the same thing. It’s…”

“It’s a two-way street, yeah? We already agreed on that. You take care of me, I take care of you.”

“But…”

“No ‘buts’. Just shut up and eat your cheese toast.”

He’s patient, and his voice is gentle, allowing her to take small bites and chew slowly, offering encouragement and praising her on both her efforts and success. Using soft fingertips to clear crumbs and cheese away from the corners of her mouth, then moved on to the applesauce; alternating between slipping the spoon between her lips and offering sips of tea. And he’s genuinely impressed when she makes it through more than half the pot and a couple of mouthfuls of pasta before tapping out.

Helping her get settled and comfortable against the pillows, he moves the tray to the dresser and disappears into the master bath. Returning moments later with a damp cloth and a hand towel in order to clean and dry her face. Afterwards, he climbs into the bed alongside her; mindful of the various tubes and wires as he settles next to her. Leaning back against the headboard and stretching his legs out in front of him; her body fitting tightly -and comfortably- against his when he wraps an arm around her shoulders.

Dropping a kiss on her hair, he places his chin on the top of her head. “You good? Feeling alright?”

“I’m good. Full. I think I ate too much. Probably shouldn’t have had THAT much.”

“That was nothing. I’ve seen you put away enough to feed four grown men.”

Laughing, she digs her elbow into his ribs. “Fuck off, Tyler.”

“It’s kinda sexy; a little thing like you being able to pack it away like that.”

“I’m starting to regret that I even woke up. You picking on me like this.”

“Everything I say, I say with love. Just like when you make fun of my huge feet and big ass forehead.”

“I don’t say those things with love. I say them with one hundred percent truth.”

“Now who’s starting to regret that you woke up?”

“For the record, EVERYTHING I say is out of love. Well, except for maybe when I used to bitch at you for leaving your dirty underwear in front of the hamper, instead of in it.”

“You sure it was mine? ‘Cause I don’t wear underwear ninety-eight percent of the time.”

“Well…” She settles her head on his chest and places her hand on his stomach; fingertips drawing slow, smooth circles on the fabric of his t-shirt. “... unless there was another guy living there that I didn’t know about…”

“It was my twin. My EVIL twin.”

“And what did you do with him? Your evil twin.”

“Who says you’re not talking to the evil one?”

“The evil twin would NOT have spoonfed me apple sauce.”

“That’s a very good point.”

“Besides, there’s nothing evil about you- not in the slightest. Trust me, I wouldn’t have fallen in love with you if there had been. And I definitely wouldn’t have STAYED in love with you. The last five years haven’t exactly been pleasant for me, either.”

“I know. It’s not like you wanted to leave. Or stay away.”

“But, I promised we wouldn’t talk about this. Not right now, anyway. And I don’t want to fight. I know how things get when we talk about intense stuff; we both get worked up, and our tempers take over and mean things get said. And then the next thing you know, all kinds of feelings are hurt, and we hate each other.”

“I’ve never hated you. I never could.”

“Okay, maybe hate is a strong word. But feelings do get hurt, and then we hold grudges against each other, and things are awkward for a while. And I don’t want things to be awkward. I want to be better than that; like we were five years ago. Not that we were horrible together, or anything. Because we weren’t. We just…”

“We both had a shit we were carrying around. It was bound to fuck things up every now and then.”

“Everything happened so fast. Between us. We never really got a chance to catch our breath, did we.”

“Not really, no.”

“We went from those five days in Dhaka to living together and planning a future. It’s not like we dated; or got to know each other like normal people.”

“I think we long ago established that we are both far from normal. Do you regret it? The way we handled things? The way they happened?”

“No. Not in the slightest. I just think it’s just a reasonable explanation; for why things got a little tense and out of hand at times. But you? US? I’ve never…for not even one second…had any regrets. I mean, other than the obvious. My fuck up five years ago. I think that goes without saying. Do you? Have regrets?”

“No. It all happened for a reason: you showing up on my doorstep that day, everything that went down in Dhaka. And I hope one day I can say the same thing about you taking off, keeping Millie a secret. That there was a reason for it to happen that way.”

“There was. I wanted to keep you safe. That’s the only reason. And as far as not telling you about Millie…”

“I know you were scared. That I’d turn you away. That I wouldn’t want anything to do with her. And there are moments where I totally accept that. But other times…”

“Hurts like hell.”

He nods.

“I AM sorry, Tyler. And if there was a way of taking it all back…”

“Well, there isn’t.” Immediately aware of the harshness of his voice, he gives her shoulder a squeeze and smiles down at her. “I love you. I always have. And isn’t that what really matters? When it all comes down to it? That I love you?”

“That’s all that’s ever mattered. It was the only thing I ever had that was real. How you felt about me. It was the only thing that was ever important. And then Millie came along. She’s all I had of you. My only connection. I didn’t even have a picture of you. I just had her.”

“You’ve done a good job, Me. A damn good job. She’s beautiful. And so fucking smart. Way smarter than I was at that age, that’s for sure. Probably smarter than I was at TWICE that age. Maybe even smarter than I am now.”

“Don’t sell yourself short. You’ve got a bigger brain pan than you realize or let on. And that’s part of what makes you so good at what you do. You’ve got the size, strength, and skills; those things are easy for people to see. They don’t expect you to be smart, too. They underestimate you. And that’s what makes you so dangerous.”

“I don’t know, Me. I think you have me beat in that department. If anyone is underestimated…”

“Well, you know what they say, about good things coming in small packages.”

“Pocket-sized packages, in your case.”

“Oh God, not THAT again.”

“I’m just saying. You’re tough for a little thing. I can see why you were so good at the job. No one would ever expect someone like you to be able to pull those kinds of things off.”

“It was survival of the fittest. And the smartest. I learned early on that if I was going to make it out alive, I had to be really good at what I did. It was exhausting, though: pretending to be a completely different person all the time. I’m glad it’s done; that I can just walk away and never think of this life again.”

“Soon. Once we’re out of here and get settled in Broome and Nik takes care of things back in New York City…”

“It’s going to be weird. Living a whole different life. Seeing you doing a different job. I have to say, you picked a pretty sexy career. A girl loves a man in uniform.”

“I don’t wear a uniform.”

“That’s it; go and ruin my fantasy.”

“And there’s nothing sexy about those coats and those boots, I’ll tell you that much.”

“You’re just a real party pooper, you know that?” Nuzzling her cheek against his chest, she closes her eyes. Relaxing in the warmth that radiates from his body, the hard muscle against her, his familiar scent, and the way his calloused fingertips repeatedly graze up and down her arm. She desperately needs and craves the close contact; the feel of him a vivid reminder that she’d walked through hell and come out the other side.

*****

Several minutes pass before she speaks again. “Has Millie been okay?”

“She’s been worried about her mum. Constantly asking the doctor and the nurse about how you’re doing and if you’re getting better. And giving all kinds of advice on how to take care of you. She’s pretty adamant that mint chocolate chip ice cream is the cure to everything.”

“Was she ever in here? Because I don’t know if I was dreaming, but I have this very vivid, distinct memory of her sitting on the bed and brushing my hair.”

“Every night before bed, she comes in and sits with you. She always brushes your hair. And reads you a story.”

“That’s why I can’t get ‘Goodnight Moon’ out of my head. We really need to toss that book. Get her interested in something else. Because if I hear that damn story one more time…”

“Consider it done. As soon as we get home, it’ll mysteriously disappear. Along with your ten pairs of Crocs.”

“Hey! Leave my Crocs out of this. They didn’t do anything to you.”

“They’re an abomination.”

“They’re comfortable!”

“They’re ugly, is what they are.”

“If you know what’s good for you, you won’t touch my Crocs. I can hurt you, you know. In ways no one else ever has.”

“Doesn’t sound too ominous. Sounds more like you’re threatening me with a good time.”

“Listen, if you want to take your chances…”

“I’d rather be safe than sorry. You’re scary for a little thing. Probably the only person on earth who DOES frighten me.”

“You SHOULD be afraid. Very afraid. I have powers. That you can’t even begin to comprehend.”

“If you’re threatening me with no sex, I’ll have you know that I went months without it. After you left. Almost an entire year. So don’t think I can’t do that again. I don’t want to, but…”

“Who am I kidding? I’d never do something like that. I’d suffer just as much as you would. If not more.”

Yawning noisily, she once more closes her eyes; enjoying the feel of his breath against the top of her head and the sound of his heart beating deep within his chest. And he’s teetering on the edge of sleep when he feels her move against him; finding her peering up at him, chin resting just below his shoulder.

“You alright?”

“I have something to tell you.”

“I don’t think I like the sound of that.”

“It’s nothing bad. At least not to me. You might see it a bit differently. When you hear what it is. But I just figured that since we’re doing this whole totally honest, completely open thing, there was no reason to wait. That we’re in a good enough place to talk about it.”

“If it has anything to do with when you left and started hiding out…”

“It’s nothing to do with that. Well, maybe it does. I don’t know. I suppose it’s kind of related. Very loosely, mind you. I just think this is the time to tell you about it. I’m finally awake and feeling a lot better, and we’ve had some really good talks tonight, and I guess I want to keep the ball rolling and just..”

“Esme, you’re rambling.”

“I don’t even know where to start. HOW to start.”

“Just spit it out. Say what you want to say. What you NEED to say.”

Sighing heavily, she briefly glances away, chewing nervously on her bottom lip. “I was the one who asked Alcott to get you out of prison.”

“What do you mean you were the one who…?”

“I had spies, okay. Informants. Keeping me up to date on you. Alcott, Nik, Yaz. You know, people I could trust; to do the job for me and keep quiet about it. I didn’t want you to know that I was keeping an eye on you; I know how much you hate being babied or coddled or worried and I was afraid you found out I was sticking my nose where it didn’t belong…”

“I would have just been happy to know you were okay. To know you even still gave a shit about me. I wouldn’t even have questioned it; you spying on me.”

“I always gave a shit about you. It was never about NOT giving a shit. I still worried about you. I still LOVED you. None of that ever stopped. Not even for a second.”

“I can’t believe I didn’t know about any of this. You and Alcott being buddies.”

“You know what it’s like in the circle. Everyone’s connected in some way.”

“And you asked him not to tell me. That he knew you.”

“There was no reason for you to know. It didn’t really have any bearing on anything. And it kept Millie and I under the radar; the fewer people who knew where we were and who were connected to, the better.”

“So he just called you and told you I was in prison?”

“Not exactly. Well, I mean, he DID. He was the one who let me know. But before that, he’d shown up in New York. Totally unexpected. And he told me all about the job in Georgia; how it involved your sister-in-law and her kids, and that it was Mia that hired you.”

“And…?”

“And it didn’t sit right. The whole thing just felt ‘off’ to me. I found it really…troublesome…that she sought you out like that. I mean, didn’t seem kind of weird to you? That after years of even knowing she was, she would just show up out of the blue? For something like THAT?”

“It was a little…odd.”

“I didn’t like it. At all. The fact she went looking for you. The fact that she would probably use your son’s death against you; use all that guilt and regret and grief to get you to do what she wanted. You can see why, right? Why I’d think that? Why I’d immediately go in that direction?”

“I’m not saying you were wrong for thinking it.”

“I knew once she did that, you’d go along with it. You’d take the job; not even caring about how risky it was or how dangerous the Nagazi were. So naturally, that made me even more nervous. Knowing you were going into something like that.”

“And Alcott kept you up to date? On what was happening?”

“I asked him to let me know how things went. Like I said, I was worried about you. And I knew all about Davit and Zurab and what they and their people were capable of. It scared me, alright? I didn’t want anything to happen to you. I loved you. You were the father of my daughter. And the thought of her losing you before ever even having you…”

“This is just…” He laughs incredulously and shakes his head. “Wow.”

“I knew exactly when the job started. Day, time. Right down to the very second. And Alcott was supposed to let me know how things went; get a hold of me as soon as you were free and clear from the prison and on your way to Vienna. So I could rest a little easier, you know? Only I didn’t hear from him for a few days. Which got me totally freaked out. I left messages, I sent texts. Nothing. Just silence.”

“And then…”

“And then I put more feelers out. I reached out to other colleagues. People I’d worked with in Europe. Specifically in and around Austria. I knew if anyone could find out if you made it there safe and sound, it would be then. And then they called back and told me that you were alive, but they couldn’t tell me exactly where you were. That I was ‘need to know information’ and I didn’t need to know.”

“So Alcott…”

“He FINALLY got a hold of me. A week later. And he told me what happened in Vienna. How you killed Zurab but ended up getting busted by the cops and thrown in jail. You were going to be there a really long time, and I didn’t want that to happen. You didn’t deserve to be there. All the bad things the Nagazi did? All the horrible shit they inflicted on people? You should have been given a key to the city and a parade in your honour. Even had a day named after you.”

“Whether or not I did the right thing, what we do IS illegal.”

“I didn’t want you rotting away in there. Not for helping people. For getting that kind of trash off the street. And there were selfish reasons, too. For why I wanted you out of there. I already knew I was going to bring Millie to you. It had always been my plan; to take her to her dad before she turned six. And considering you were facing a life sentence, I couldn’t just sit back and do nothing. I wanted Millie to meet you. Have a relationship with you. And that couldn’t happen if you were locked up.”

“You’ve been really busy the last five years, haven’t you.”

“I was caught up in a few things,” Esme admits. “ Nothing that ever put Millie in danger. I’d never do that; take a job that could put her in harm’s way. There was no reason to think things would go so wrong with Alessio. I was so close; to getting all the information I needed. Everything had been so easy. Gone so smoothly. If I ever thought anyone would try and hurt her…”

“I never once thought that. That you’d put her in danger. I know how quickly things can go wrong. And if there was no reason to think that the job would go to shit…”

“Like I said, everything had been so easy. It was all running so smoothly. I would have been finished in a week. Two at the most. I don’t know what happened; I don’t know how things went so badly. But I never would have agreed to help Nik out if I even had the tiniest worry that Millie could be hurt. That’s my little girl. My baby. She’s all I had; my only connection to you. I wouldn’t have agreed to anything that could possibly hurt her. I…”

“Esme, you don’t have to defend yourself. To anyone. Let alone me. I’m the last person who’d ever judge you. All the things I’ve done? You really think I’d think less of you?”

“She’s your daughter, too. It would be really easy for you to be angry. Look what happened. Alessio’s family tried to kill us. It’s only reasonable that you’d be pissed about that.”

“I am pissed about that. But I’m pissed at them, not you. I know how much you love Millie. How well you’ve taken care of her. Look how happy she is. How healthy. How fucking smart. That’s not a kid being raised by a shitty mother.”

“She’s my entire world. I waited so long to be a mom. I’d never do anything that would put her in danger. I’d never…”

“I believe you. I’m not accusing you of anything. I’ve never once thought something like that.”

“The other night you were pretty angry. And you asked me how I could ever put her at risk like that. Why I would even go back to the job with her in the picture. You…”

“I didn’t mean any of that. I was pissed. Hurt. I’m an asshole when I’m going through shit like that. I say things I don’t mean. I’ve always been that way. You know that.”

“Still, there had to be some truth to it, right? To your words? There must have…”

“I love you, Esme. I always have. And I’m sorry that I lashed out like that. Said those things. But I didn’t mean them. I was hurt. And I wanted you to hurt too.”

“Well, you succeeded. Because it did. Hurt. I may have deserved to hear it…”

“You didn’t. You’re the last person who deserves it. It was just me being an insensitive prick. That’s something I need to work on. Not lashing out like that. I don’t want to hurt you. That’s the last thing I want.”

“I guess we both have things we need to work on, huh?”

“There’s a list. Or two. And we’ll get to it when everything settles down. For now, can we go back to what we were originally talking about? Alcott? What happened after he contacted you and told you where I was?”

“I couldn’t let you waste away in jail,” she continues. “They would have kept you in there for the rest of your life. So I asked Alcott if there was any way he could pull some strings. Did he know someone on the inside who could help get you out of there? He arranged a meeting. Between me and his boss. I already knew him; from my time in New York when I was doing freelance work. I’d done a few intel jobs for him. Nothing too major. But if anyone could help, I knew it would be him. That’s a man with a lot of power. A lot of people under his thumb.”

“He is NOT the kind of person you should be mixed up with.”

“I had been offered some work. In Abu Dhabi. That involved one of his biggest rivals. So I made a business proposition; I’d hand over all the information I had and the whereabouts of this person in exchange for getting you out of prison. But he’d only agree if you would be the one to take over; take everything I knew and go after his rival and kill him. It was up to Alcott to offer you the deal; do a job for them and earn your freedom.”

“I can't believe you stuck your nose in that shit.”

“Look, I did it because I love you. Because I always have. Nothing changed in those five years. If anything? Missing you like that? Having a baby…YOUR baby…it made me love you even more. I couldn’t just sit back and do nothing. Let you rot away in that prison. You didn’t deserve to be there. All you did was take out the trash.”

“I did a little more than that.”

“It was all you? That made all that happen?”

“I just came up with the idea. Alcott had to make it happen. He did the hard work.”

“I don’t know, getting in contact with the likes of his boss? That takes some balls. That’s the last person you ever should have trusted.”

“I didn’t have a choice. I had to get you out of there. And I needed help to make it happen. There was no one else. Believe me, if there had been, I would have asked them.”

“You did all of that? Put yourself at risk? For me?”

“Okay, so you may have shot the ever-loving shit out of Vienna. And came very close to burning the entire city to the ground. But it’s not like you didn’t have help.”

He gives a small chuckle.

“I couldn’t leave you there, Tyler. Just like I couldn’t leave you on that bridge in Dhaka. And I got you out of jail just as much for me as I did for you. Because I knew I’d see you again. Because I wanted you to meet Millie and be a part of her life. Finally get to be her dad. And that couldn’t have happened if you were stuck in there.”

He nods slowly as he considers her words.

Pushing her fingers through his, she brings their joined hands to rest on her collarbone and presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “You’re not mad, are you? Please tell me you’re not mad. I didn’t bring it up to cause issues. I just figured we’ve been so open and honest with each other and we both want to keep that going and…”

“I’m not mad in the slightest. I have no reason to be. I’m more surprised than anything; hearing you were involved in all that. I never would have connected any of that to you. Not in a million years.”

“At the time it all went down, I didn’t want you to know it was me. I wasn’t ready; for us to come face to face. I was scared, and I was holding on to so much guilt and regret, and I didn’t want those things ruining it, you know? So I asked Alcott to help me. And before your mind goes there, he helped me as a FRIEND. Nothing more. There never was -and never will be- anything between us.”

“He knows better than to even try. He knows I’d kill him.”

“Always the protective one.” She nuzzles the underside of his chin with the tip of her nose. “Always.”

Smiling, he pecks the bridge of her nose, then rests his brow against his. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Everything.”

“I never stopped worrying about you, Tyler. I worried every second of every day. That something bad would happen, and I’d never get the chance to see you again. Or that you’d ever get a chance to see Millie. Or hear me say that I was sorry.”

“But we did get that chance. All of that happened.”

“It shouldn’t have taken so long.”

“We’re not going to talk about that. Getting into the reasons why. Not right now.” Tightening his hold on her, his hand falls to her hip as she presses herself into his side and rests her head on his chest.

“You know how you always say there’s nothing you wouldn’t do for me? Well, it’s a two-way street. Because there’s nothing I couldn’t do for YOU.”

“I know. Believe me, I KNOW.”

“We take care of each other. It’s what we do. It’s who we are.”

“It’s kinda only gone one way. Taking care of each other. At least until now.”

“Well, in all fairness, I’ve never really given you a chance. To take care of me. And that’s mainly because I don’t get in nearly as much trouble as you do.”

He smirks. “I’m not quite sure about that.”

“For what it’s worth, you’re really good at. The whole taking care of someone thing. It’s a whole different side of you. That you don’t let anyone else see. Just me.”

“There’s a lot of those sides.”

“I’m lucky. You’ve always felt comfortable showing them to me. Right from the start of things. In Dhaka. You never hid them from me. You never hid the REAL you.”

“I never felt a reason to.”

Smiling, she reaches up to once more trace the various scars and cuts that decorate his face. Gentle fingertips glide over old and faded, raised and angry, a nail slowly travelling the entire length and curve of his jaw. “I do love you, you know.”

“Yeah…” Giving her hip a gentle squeeze, he leans down to peck her lips. “...I know.”

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