#i think the little things would like to travel the world :> they can't move very well and aren't taken to many rooms and their batteries di
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iteratorsex · 5 hours ago
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What do you think is the lore reason for creature pipes existing?
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Obviously, they exist in-game pretty much solely for the gameplay reason of traveling between rooms, and the way they work is also only really for gameplay purposes. But like, outside of that, what were they actually used for? What are they? Why do they function the way they do? Hell, why were they even built? They still must exist in Rain Worlds infrastructure for a reason.
Creature's that enter them can't stop moving forward until they're out the other side. Creatures also can't do anything while traveling in the pipes, as evidenced by predators not being able to grab prey while traveling in it. Are creatures restrained while in the pipe? The pipes symbol is distinct, almost as if to invite sight-based creatures to enter them. Their symbols light up with the corresponding color's of creatures approaching them, meaning they can sense things. They seem at least somewhat technologically advanced due to this. Are they alive like other machinery? Perhaps the insides of the pipe are biological and soft, able to contract and hold a creature in place as it's moved . . . . . Kinda like a sphincter . . . . Now that I think about it.
All of this has led me to think that creature pipes are basically the rain world equivalent of the "salmon cannon." A way for designated purposed organisms to harmlessly move about the surface world, to complete whatever task they're made for. Now only used by the countless forms of feralized surface fauna.
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But anyway, any thoughts from you on what creature pipes are?
It might disappoint you to say this but I think that its just purely a gameplay feature meant to indicate some kind of "crack" in the wall you go through, at least for dens and room entrances
I feel like shortcuts have more going on, but theres also no reason why the ancients would ever lay out anything like this and want to crawl into shitty little pipes about it
I'm pretty sure creatures not being able to see you in the pipes is a bug that ended up becoming a feature
Maybe the pipes are purposed organisms. Idk. They're way too gameplay focused and feel too disconnected from lore to be much else but that. But I also think the pipes within Industrial Complrx are alive because they look like intestines
The symbols are different so that tje player can recognize where they are and where it'll takr them, similar to how objects flash when you walk next to them
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diminuel · 3 hours ago
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IM IN LOVE WITH UR LATEST ART (the on where Crocodile holds Luffy AND especially where he's with Ace)
it's very sweet and precious. I'm wondering if Crocodile fusses over him as best he can. Like I have this picture in my head of him obsessively smoothing his his from his face or fixing his blankets for the THIRD time in like fifteen minutes
and maybe when he's a little more stable, like he crawls into. bed to cradle him, idk I feel like he would fuss over him as much as he could so he wouldn't feel helpless.
and then I'm wondering...how their reunion goes after Ace wakes up? Like did he visit Ace when he was with iva and Dragon and recovering before he woke up? did he struggle to leave him? what does Luffy know? I have so many thoughts and questions and I love the stinky child au with my whole heart and soul <3
Thank you!
I love the idea of Crocodile fussing over him...! ;w; I think once Ace is stable enough Law is taking him to Momoiro where he'll either wake up or he won't. There's not much more Law can do for him.
I don't think Crocodile could bear to visit him and just watch him for months, hoping that he'll wake up. After Luffy has decided to train with Rayleigh Crocodile probably goes into the new world. He too has to keep moving, has to keep busy, can't think about his children out there in a world that is going to get more and more dangerous to them.
But when he hears that Ace woke up, he's going to travel to him right away! (I haven't drawn this reunion yet, partially because I cannot make up my mind if Ace will have lost his devil fruit and what he's going to do now. Will he join Luffy's crew? Join the Revolutionary Army? Join Cross Guild? Get a new crew? Many options...!)
And either Luffy doesn't know that Ace woke up or Dragon tells him (I assume that depending on what his devil fruit is he can fly.)
I am happy that you like the Stinky Child AU! I do too! And there are still so many things to explore in comic or fanfic form! ;A; I'm always open for ideas for this AU~
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keeps-ache · 1 year ago
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if i could be any little creature on the earth i'd be one of those little robot-dog toys that kind of suck
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narfin-frood · 3 months ago
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i've been itching to share my swap au since i thought it up, but i think i now finally have an actual baseline to introduce it with!!
the idea isn't that it's a personality swap, but a role swap, with wander and sylvia as antagonists and hater and peepers as the protags, and i have a whole lot to say about it so im gonna go ahead and infodump below the cut
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so i've renamed these two, at least, since hater's story has become less about getting over himself and more about how he sees the world Now That He's Gotten Over Himself. i'm calling him The Great (and absent) Lord Lackadaisical right now, but i don't think that's what he'd like to be called, since he's an absent ruler who doesn't really care to be in a position of so much power and would rather fuck off to all the planets with really nice hot tubs. he and Sir Peepers (his loyal knight who cannot be convinced to leave his side) travel the galaxy with hater's sweet ride (i'm not too good at designing motorcycles yet. pending).
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i haven't thought of new names/titles for wander and sylvia just yet (i cannot just call him Sitter Over Therer) but i do know what their deal is, and it's the main reason i made this au (i feel like if wander were a villain he would not in fact be a villain like lord hater or dominator because i think that kinda disregards wander's whole Shit, he'd be like screwball, and even then he'd have very strong convictions that he's doing the right thing): wander has a cult (a hivemind, kinda) and sylvia is his priest.
i think wander comes along this mushroom during a time in his life when everything seems to have been torn asunder, and instead of continuing his adventures and learning and growing as a person, the mushroom offers a solution that doesn't require much effort on his behalf. the mushroom links people together borg-style, makes them share a brain and a purpose. wander not only thinks it's super neat, but he's in such a poor state of mind when he finds it, he convinces himself it's the only way to make the galaxy a better place.
sylvia is the only person in his Ring of Friends who isn't hooked up to the mushroom, because she's actually wander's friend, and she's his ride or die. she does the things she does out of free will and dedication to her best friend, including preaching and fisticuffs.
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^^^ here's some more of my initial concept art. originally the mushroom was gonna be a tree, but i had a vision of an upside down mushroom (or several, to take the place of watchdogs) scuttling around and by god is it easy to make that look like his hat.
the thing that really really pushes wander over the edge is the sheer boredom of it all. when he's connected to the mushroom, he's very little more than the brain they all share. he can't move around, and that KILLS him (see: the hole lotta nuthin). so when hater (name pending) comes along and refuses to join him and annoys him enough, he gets suuuuper stoked about having something to really DO for once.
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anyway. this is what i've got for now. do you like it. you can be honest if you dont like it
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peppertoastuniverse · 8 months ago
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pep reads: fluffiest fluff edition
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I've just been CONSUMING so many jjk fanfics... here are the softest fluffiest fic recommendations since I think we all need it right now. This list is in no particular order – there's so many talented writers out there! These ones just made me MELT extra hard. Mostly no smut, I just needed to be held.
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gojo satoru
☆ only you by Kaiseriin [A03: mini series] [status: unknown] [Cursed speech!reader] Other than Gojo, not many people understand the sign language you use to communicate as a cursed speech user. When some students from Kyoto arrive, one tries to learn so he can get closer to you.
☆ summer skies, winter lies by miyaspudding [A03: long fic!][status: ongoing]
"how cruel was fate? how much had he sinned in his past life, for the woman he loved to belong to his best friend? how little did god love him?"
in which gojo satoru learns that emotions are not weaknesses but consolations; and geto suguru realizes that he's always been a little too late for everything. because the furthest distance is an inch away, and the furthest thing from truth is "just friends".
☆best of luck. by reinerispretty [A03: one shot! part of a mini series] [status: unknown] In which Gojo Satoru shows up unannounced, twice.
☆Ah, you were both equally idiotic by Hiroka [A03: mini series] [status: unknown]
4 times others realized something was going on between Gojo and you, and 0 times you both realized it.
[Oneshots from the Old Beats Cinematic Universe]
☆ For A God, Shopping Is a New Adventure by Bun_sun [AO3] [status: on going!] [Baker!reader]
“Would you like anything else?” “Actually, yeah.” He flashes you a grin that only promises trouble, pushing his sunglasses down with a way too exaggerated flirty expression. “Can I get your number too?” “Haha, really funny Gojo. Now, I have more clients so...” But he's already getting his phone out, as if he hasn't listened to a single word you've said. “...Oh, you're for real.” ~ ~ ~ ~ Reader owns a small cafe with their own baked goods. Gojo comes in one day, and absolutely falls in love with their pastries (and with them).
☆ I Want to Kiss You / キスしたい by arminsumi [A03][status: unknown]
You and Satoru falling in love despite a language barrier.
You've come to visit Japan to meet these two boys you met online. Though Satoru can't speak English and you can't speak Japanese, the two of you still fall in love. There's seems to be romantic tension between you and Suguru, too.
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geto suguru
it's so hard to find suguru fics without him being used as a plot device for gojo
☆ gentle glow / deep thought by waffiez [AO3: one shot] [status: completed] "I thought about you, you know." Despite the softness of his voice, it cut through the otherwise silent atmosphere profoundly and made your heart skip a beat. "Is that so?" "It is." ☆☆☆ in which you awake to your best friend suguru asleep at the edge of your bed, having returned from a lengthy mission and only really wanting to see you.
☆ unnamed drabble by @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat [tumblr: drabble] [status: completed]
comfy fluff w sleepy needy sugu <33)
☆ Wash It Away by @shadowsandshapes [A03/tumblr: drabble][status: completed]
Sometimes you forget Geto is just a guy. But then he shows a sense of vulnerability that surprises you. After a particularly emotionally draining battle, you run him a warm bath and take care of his aches. ☆ Wisteria and Ciabatta by @hayakawalove [A03/tumblr: mini fic!][status: completed, chapter 2 has smut!]
Traveling merchant Suguru has led a relatively tame life thus far. Growing his flowers, baking his bread. One day, when he ventures out further than normal he comes across something more beautiful than all the flowers in the world. You. ☆ the paint doesn't move the way the light reflects by @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat [tumblr: long oneshot!] [status: completed]
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bonus!
☆ Digest Your Feelings (DYF) – First Years! by @whalesforhands [A03/tumblr: part of a longer series of fics] [status: completed] new classmates, new life, new friends(?). a look into the life of the dyf au characters in their first year.
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coolemmasulivan2 · 8 months ago
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It's Always You
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Pairing: Lando Norris x Reader
Summary: You and Lando share a mutual attraction, but you've kept things professional due to career implications. However, after his first win race, things may change, blurring the lines between friendship and something more.
Word count: 6013
Author's note: First time writing about Lando. I started writing this on the day of the Miami Sprint and then when he won the next day I told myself I would publish it. Tell me what you think.
It's you, it's always you Met a lot of people, but nobody feels like you So please don't break my heart, don't tear me apart
Miami heat wrapped around you like a steamy August day and even if American tracks weren't your thing, the paddock was definitely one of your favourites.
Working with McLaren since 2019 felt like winning the lottery. Travel, new faces, and a taste of different cultures – it was everything you dreamed of. Hospitality put you in the middle of it all – the team, the fans, even the families. Being young, you clicked quickly with the drivers: Carlos and Lando from the start, and Oscar when he joined.
Carlos was your rock, a protective older brother even after his move to Ferrari. Daniel was a blast, always making you laugh with his great sense of humor, and Oscar's calm personality mirrored yours. He became your trackside best friend, sharing everything over coffee and off-track adventures with his girlfriend, Lily.
Then there was Lando. Your relationship with Lando was different. Unlike Carlos, you saw him not as a brother, but as a friend... friends that had feelings for each other.
He was shy at first, stealing glances when you weren't looking. But time made his shyness disappear. Flirting became his game, playful touches here and there and unexpected hugs wherever he felt like it. You ignored the signs until his confession left you speechless in the middle of the night in Monaco.
"I have something I need to tell you." He said.
It was 2020. Monaco was hot that night. Everyone at the team dinner was buzzing about the upcoming classic Monaco Grand Prix. Like always, after the dinner, Lando offered to walk you back to the hotel where the team was staying – nothing new. You even joked about Carlos doing the same thing.
Like all the other times, you didn't think much about the gesture. It was something he used to do, and in your head, it was just a friend helping the other. After all, Carlos did it from time to time. Why should it be any different with Lando?
"What's up?" You asked, the streetlights shining on his face. "Getting nervous about the race? The car feels amazing, right?"
Lando messed with his hair. Your voice, normally like music to him, made him forget what to say. "Uh, no, not the race."
"Then what is it? Now I'm the one freaking out." You tried to lighten the mood with a laugh. "Did you lose your house key again? You're not staying with me."
He wished you'd just be quiet. "Fuck, Y/N!" He blurted out. "I like you." The words came out fast, just like his orange F1 car. Did you hear him right? When he saw the surprise on your face, he knew you had. "I, uh, I mean more than a friend." He stammered. "Like, a lot. You're always in my head, even in my dreams. All the fucking time. I can't even look at other girls because you're all I see. I just had to tell you. I couldn't keep it in any longer."
You suddenly froze, your heart pounding like a drum solo. Time seemed to slow down, with only the two of you and the warm glow of the streetlights as the real things around. You wanted to speak, but the words simply wouldn't come out.
"Please say something!" Lando begged, his voice shaky. "Anything! Even if you don't like me back, just tell me. But don't let this mess up our friendship!"
It didn't destroy your friendship, but it sent your world spinning. You realized your little crush on the driver was a full-blown fire, and with each passing year, the flames only licked higher. But every time Lando flirted, the same words you had said to him tumbled out: "It's inappropriate."
He hated those words. He'd always argue with you about it. "Come on, I like you and I know you like me too. I know it! Who cares about work? We can keep it quiet. It can be our secret." He always had a solution for every worry, but you remained strong.
You wanted to believe that you could remain strong.
The problem was, your feelings were turning into a rebellion. Keeping them bottled up was a losing battle, and you weren't sure how much longer you could resist the pressure from the driver.
Lando strutted into the paddock beside you, his black clothes and crisp white shirt doing nothing to hide his cocky grin. "Finally figured out why I haven't won a race yet." He announced, his cologne a heady wave in your direction.
You peeked over your sunglasses. "Oh yeah, Sherlock? What's the conclusion?"
He leaned close, his voice a low rumble. "No good luck kiss from you, that's what! Maybe we should fix that? Make it a tradition if it works."
A laugh escaped you. "So it's my fault, huh?"
"Exactly!" He grinned. "And if I lose again without a kiss, everyone's gonna hear about it."
"That's your best shot at flirting?" You teased. "Seriously, Lando, you're terrible."
A playful smirk tugged at his lips. He draped his arm around your shoulder, leading you towards the McLaren hospitality area. "The only girl I flirt with is you, love. Guess you'll have to show me how to improve."
Heat flooded your cheeks, betraying your fake indifference. Lando wasn't an idiot. He knew you felt the same way, a truth as clear as the Miami sunshine.
A booming voice shattered the playful tension. "Whoa there, puppet, keep your hands off of her!"
Carlos emerged behind you, clad in his new Ferrari blues. You turned to see him glaring at Lando, who simply scoffed and moved away, the arm around your shoulder replaced by Carlos's protective arm.
He leaned down, a quick peck on your head followed by a wink aimed at Lando, who rolled his eyes with a playful huff.
"Or what?" Lando challenged.
Carlos pretended to consider, then grinned. "Or I'll run you off the track at the race. And don't even think about getting jealous. It's a bad look on you."
Agree to disagree, you thought. Jealousy did look good on him. The way he tapped his foot impatiently, the way he chewed his lip with a focused intensity – those were the subtle giveaways that made your heart skip a beat.
"Leave him alone, Sainz!" You swatted playfully at Carlos' chest, the contact sending a blush blooming across your cheeks.
"Oh, look who's defending the love bird." He teased, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
You blushed once again. "Shut up." You whispered.
Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Lando fighting a smile as you continued towards McLaren hospitality. A quick goodbye to Carlos later, you disappeared inside, ready for your daily tasks. Lando watched you go, his gaze lingering long after you were out of sight.
When he finally turned back to his friend, Carlos was waiting, arms crossed, a knowing smirk plastered across his face. "What?"
"Ugh, the both of you." Carlos rolled his eyes. "All this mooning and staring, it's getting pathetic. Just take her out, will you?"
Lando sighed. "I've been trying for years. It's always 'inappropriate.'"
"Well, try harder!" Carlos pressed. "Last thing you need is someone else catching her eye."
Lando's playful demeanor vanished. "What do you mean?" He pressed, a sudden seriousness tightening his features. Carlos simply offered him a pat on the shoulder before walking away, leaving Lando with a gnawing sense of unease. "Hey, what do you mean?"
The sprint had been a disaster. It all ended so quickly that it didn't give him enough time to think, no chance to catch Max and the others at the front. To make matters worse, the Stewards imposed a heavy fine of €50,000 for crossing the track while the rave was still ongoing.
Later, back at the hotel, he was torn between feeling exhausted and frustrated. A cold shower did little to wash away the bitter taste of defeat. He pulled on fresh clothes and collapsed onto the bed. Closing his eyes, he focused on the tension leaving his body, hoping for a moment of peace.
A loud ringing sound shattered the silence and startled him out of his daze. He groaned as he searched for his phone, buried somewhere in the crumpled sheets.
Y/n: Hey, Oscar and I are planning to watch a movie and grab some food. Wanna join us? We're in my bedroom.
Lando smile, looking at your text.
Lando: You know I like you. You shouldn't tell me when you have other guys in your bedroom. It breaks my heart.
Although he couldn't see you, he was certain you were rolling your eyes after reading his message. 
Y/n: Shut up and get your ass here.
A laugh escaped Lando's lips as he pushed himself out of bed. He stalked over to the mirror, running a hand through his damp curls. With a flick of the switch, the room dropped into darkness, and Lando walked out of his room.
Your room was on a different floor, but soon a familiar knock came at your door. Your heart kicked into a familiar rapid-fire beat as you swung the door open.
"Hi!"
"Hey, beautiful." He cupped your cheek, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. "Osc!" He jumped in your bed and in one smooth motion, he snagged a chip from the bowl you'd set on the nightstand.
"Hey. What do you feel like watching?" He quickly looked through your Netflix library, skipping over the typical romantic comedy options.
"Anything but that mushy stuff." Lando declared, earning a playful jab from you.
"Take your shoes off the bed, Lando!"
He chuckled, kicking off his sneakers. He leaned back against the headboard, his gaze lingering on you for a second too long. You were a black Simpsons shirt and matching sporty shorts, your bare feet resting comfortably on the cool sheets. A small anchor could be seen on your ankle, sparking his imagination about what other hidden treasures lay beneath your clothes.
The spell was broken by a knock on the door. With a quick smile, you ran toward the door, returning moments later with a stack of takeout boxes. 
You settled next to Lando on the bed, while Oscar sprawled out at the foot like a contented cat. With the Avengers movie playing softly in the background, you devoured your food, a comfortable silence settling around the three of you.
Two hours passed by quickly as the credits rolled. Oscar groaned and got off the bed. You mimicked his stretch, feeling the pleasant ache of a relaxed evening.
"Looks like someone's having a sleepover!" Oscar teased, pointing a playful finger at Lando. The driver was sprawled across your pillow, a peaceful look on his face.
A soft gasp escaped your lips. "Oh, Lando!" you whispered, torn between amusement and a flicker of panic. He looked undeniably adorable, a mess of soft curls framing his face. You glanced at Oscar, who was already pulling on his sneakers. "We have to wake him up, right?"
Oscar chuckled, a knowing glint in his eyes. "We? Seems pretty comfy to me, Y/N. Let the man enjoy his rest." He started towards the door, but you reached out.
"Wait, where are you going? He can't stay here." Panic bubbled in your chest. The thought of him sleeping in your bed sent shivers down your spine.
"So wake him up!"
Your cheeks flushed crimson. "I… I don't want to wake him." The words came out a soft mumble, barely audible.
Oscar leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Then don't. Trust me, asleep is the only state he'll stay put. Besides, wouldn't you rather wake up to a grateful cuddle buddy in the morning?"He winked, leaving you speechless, alone with the British driver.
Oh my god, you screamed to yourself.
You tiptoed around the room, unsure of your next move. Finally, drawn by a strange magnetism, you found yourself kneeling by the bed.
Lando's serene face was illuminated by the soft bedside lamp. His chest rose and fell gently in sleep, a single black curl escaping the gentle mess of his hair.
An irresistible urge to touch him washed over you. Without thinking about it, your fingers reached out, tentatively brushing against the perfect curl. As if sensing the intrusion, Lando stirred, and his brow furrowed slightly. You quickly retreated to the bathroom, heart pounding as you slammed the door carefully behind you.
Leaning against the door, you let out a shaky breath. You hurriedly changed into pyjamas, suddenly aware of how thin they felt compared to your day clothes. But it was hot, and you hadn't brought anything else.
Peeking through the crack in the door, you peeked out, praying for the best. Relief flooded you when you saw Lando, thankfully still asleep, but now facing the other side of the bed.
You were wondering if that little couch in the corner was worth sleeping on. It looked quite small and uninviting. Sleep on that uncomfortable excuse of furniture, or share the bed with Lando? The answer, realistically, was obvious. 
You climbed in, scooting over as far as possible to create a respectable amount of distance from the body next to you. Sleep, thankfully, came quickly. Maybe it was the exhaustion from the day, or perhaps the unexpected warmth and sense of security that came with having Lando beside you, but you drifted off faster than usual.
Sunlight, snuck into the room, painting stripes across Lando's face. He blinked, momentarily disoriented. Hadn't he closed those curtains last night? He sat up, surprise jolting through him as he realized he wasn't in his own bed.
Even more shocking was the sight beside him. You, cuddle against him, your thin pyjamas offering little to make him look away. One of your legs peeked out from under the discarded sheet, and Lando felt a warmth spread through him that had nothing to do with the morning sun.
What in the world? How had he ended up, tangled in your sheets? A quick glance around revealed his phone abandoned on the nightstand. It was still early, but Jon would be expecting him in his room soon. He needed to get out, get cleaned up and get ready for the day. But leaving felt like ripping himself away from something precious.
He stole a glance at you. Your face, relaxed and peaceful, was turned towards him. A stray strand of hair tickled your cheek. Hesitantly, he reached out, tucking it behind your ear.  The touch, light as a feather, was enough to stir you awake.
Lando didn't flinch and when you fluttered your eyes open, his face was inches away. A wave of yearning swept through you, a desire for more mornings waking up beside him.
"Did I die and go to heaven last night?" His voice, husky with sleep, sent shivers down your spine.
"You fell asleep." You admitted, your voice barely a whisper. "And I didn't have the heart to wake you up."
"Right." He breathed the word out, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. His hand reached out, cupping your cheek with a tenderness that both surprised and delighted you. A blush crept up your neck as he murmured, "Lucky me." Then, a sigh escaped his lips. "I have to go. Jon will be at my room any minute."
You nodded and smiled, despite the disappointment tugging at your heart. You watched as he hesitately rose, groaning at leaving your bed. His hair was a mess of adorable curls, and his rumpled clothes added a touch of vulnerability that made him look even more adorable.
He grabbed his phone and sneakers and then paused, a playful smirk on his face. "So, about that lucky kiss for good luck?" He teased, a hint of hope lacing his voice. "We already slept together!"
"Go!" You muttered.
"Fine, fine." He chuckled. "See you later, love."
He turned towards the door, and an impulsive urge surged through you. Before you could overthink it, you were out of bed and racing towards him. He reached for the doorknob, but you were faster, grabbing his arm and spinning him around.
For a moment, confusion clouded his features, but it quickly melted into surprise as you planted a kiss on his cheek. It was a chaste kiss, lingering just a beat too long to be considered entirely platonic. When you pulled away, his eyes held a mixture of shock and something deeper.
"There's your lucky kiss." You whispered, your voice barely above a breath. "Now go."
Lando stood speechless for a moment, the kiss still tingling on his skin. Then, a slow smile spread across his face "Today is a day full of opportunities." He declared.
With one last lingering look, he opened the door and disappeared into the hallway. You leaned against the wall, your heart pounding against your ribs.
You had never felt more nervous before in a race. At the start, it seemed like Oscar could give Verstappen a run for his money, but then the safety car came out and it felt like you were barely moving until the end of the race, with Lando being P1. It wasn't until the checkered flag waved that you finally exhaled, a shaky breath that escaped with a nervous laugh.
The McLaren hospitality buzzed with excitement. Lando had finally done it. His first F1 victory, a triumph long overdue. You joined the celebrations, a wide smile plastered across your face, not just for the team, but for Lando himself. It was a moment he deserved.
"Great race, Oscar!" You exclaimed as the Australian driver entered the hospitality area and hug you. "You had Red Bull sweating for a while there!"
He chuckled, pulling you into a brief hug. "Thanks, Y/N. I gave it my all, but the real winner tonight is Lando." He winked. "I'm sure your champion will be here any minute, looking for his girl."
You slapped his arm playfully, a blush creeping up your neck. "Don't say that in here!"
"Everybody knows." He whispered back.
As if on cue, Lando appeared. His eyes scanned the room, a triumphant grin splitting his face when they landed on you. You saw as he and Oscar hugged each other and the rest of the team.
He weaved his way through the crowd, a trail of congratulations and backslaps following him, but it was you he was drawn to. Everyone else faded into the background as he reached you, his victory grin melting into a tender smile reserved only for you.
You welcomed him into a hug, a sweet and loving embrace. He buried his face in your neck, the scent of champagne and his signature cologne an intoxicating mix.
"We did it!" He murmured, his voice filled with emotion.
"You did it!" You corrected, pulling back to cup his face. "I'm so proud of you."
Everyone was engaged in their own celebrations as he took your hand. He led you away from the loud crowd, a silent understanding passing between you. As you slipped inside his driver's room, he locked the door behind him, a thrill of nervousness ran through you.
He closed the distance between you, his eyes roaming your face before settling on your lips. With a tender touch, he cupped your cheek, his thumb tracing a seductive path across your lips.
"Please!" He pleaded, his voice low and urgent. "Just this once…" You knew exactly what he craved.
"Lando--" You began.
"Please!" He repeated, his voice laced with a desperation that mirrored your own.
You swallowed the lump in your throat. A part of you, the part that had spent months pushing him away, hesitated. But the other part yearned to give in. You nodded.
He cupped your face in his hands and pressed you against the wall. The next moment, his lips were on yours, the taste of champagne a sweet surprise against yours. The kiss was hungry and desperate. You clung to his fireproof shirt. The world melted away, replaced by the intoxicating sensation of his lips moving against yours. All the reasons you'd held back faded away. 
But just as the kiss deepened, a knock on the door jolted you both back to reality. You broke away, gasping for breath.
Lando groaned. "Yeah?" The voice from the other side told him they were expecting him. Lando rolled his eyes. "Just give me a minute."
When you heard the footsteps fade away, you reached for the doorknob, but Lando's hand shot out, his fingers wrapping firmly around your wrist.
"Stop it, Lando." You whispered.
"Don't!" He pleaded. "You can't tell me you didn't like it. I could feel it, Y/N. Don't deny it."
"I'm not denying it." You admitted your voice barely a whisper. "But you know why this can't happen."
Lando's jaw clenched. "It's NOT inappropriate! Look," he said, his voice softer now, "I waited this long for my first win. I can wait for you, just as long."
He cupped your jaw and before you could react, he leaned in and kissed the corner of your lips. He unlocked the door in one swift motion and stepped out, leaving you breathless.
You'd politely declined Lando's after-party invitation at the strip club near the hotel. You weren't the nightclub type, and deep down, Lando knew that. You assured him that you hadn't rejected it because of the kiss, but the way the call ended, left a pit in your stomach.
"He's mad! I know it." You mumbled to Oscar, who sat beside you at the hotel bar. The rest of the team was split between a game of darts in the back and loud conversations over drinks by the pool. "He didn't say 'bye, love' or 'see you later, beautiful', we just said bye."
Oscar facepalmed as he looked at his drunk best friend rambling about their mutual friend who was likely doing the same thing at the party.
"You're his friend, Y/N, not his girlfriend." He teased, sending a blush creeping up your cheeks. You stammered a reply, but the words got tangled up in your throat. "He's probably getting lucky tonight." He continued. "Deserves it after that win."
The implication hit you like a punch to the gut. "Lucky? You think he'll...?"
A mischievous glint danced in Oscar's eyes. "Oh, absolutely."
You downed the last of your drink, feeling a hollowness in your chest. "Good for him." You mumbled, the words lacking conviction.
Oscar groaned, frustration etching lines on his forehead. "Jesus, Y/N! The only girl he wants to get lucky with is you. Stop playing these mind games and making yourselves miserable!"
You rested your head on your hand, a wave of emotions crashing over you. "Oscar," You confessed, looking him straight in the eye. "I really like him. Like, never liked anyone this way before."
A slow smile spread across his face. "Then do something about it."
Lando was having the best time of his life, celebrating his first win with his friends. He felt his chest vibrate with every beat of the bass, as he laughed with his friends. Despite the fun he was having, he was also experiencing a dull ache. Your absence stood out.
He'd downed a few too many drinks to drown the disappointment steaming inside. When you declined the club invitation, his frustration boiled over into a harsh goodbye, which he quickly regretted. 
"Did you see who just walked in?" Max shouted into his ear over the loud music.
"What?" Max pointed towards the entrance, causing a frown to appear on Lando's forehead.
Your arrival sent a jolt through him, he felt a surge of adrenaline and his earlier frustration vanished as a smile stretched across his face.
"Go get your girl, champ!" Max patted his shoulder with a wink.
Lando needed no further encouragement. He navigated his way through the crowd, his eyes fixed on you.
You scanned the room with a hint of apprehension. Even in your tipsy state, a voice of reason whispered in your head, questioning this impulsive move.
Just as you turned to leave, a warm hand closed around your wrist. You didn't need to see his face to know who it was. His familiar touch sent a familiar spark across your skin.
He wore a playful smirk, but his eyes held a hint of concern. "I thought you weren't coming."
You tried to appear casual, but your voice betrayed you. "I wasn't."
"How much did you have to drink?" He asked you, and you furrowed your eyebrows. How did he know what you had been doing? You stuttered in response, unsure of what to say. "Did Oscar let you come here drunk?"
"I'm not drunk! And how do you know I've been drinking?"
"Then why the sudden change of heart?" His gaze softened, searching your face. "And Oscar's been keeping me updated."
"Why doe--"
"Why are you here, Y/n?" He asked you.
You felt your face getting hot as you looked around the club, the among of bodies suddenly overwhelming. "I, uh..." You cleared your throat, the words catching in your tight throat. "I need a drink."
As you made your way towards the bar, Lando followed closely behind. You approached the counter and asked the bartender for a drink. He nodded and began to mix your order. Lando stood by your side, looking a you. 
"How did you get here? Does Oscar know?" The concern in his voice sent a shiver down your spine.
You nodded and then drank the entire drink that was placed in front of you all at once. "Yes. He called me an Uber and told the guy to drop me here." Lando looked surprised as he noticed the empty glass in your hand. You hadn't intended to drink it so quickly, but your nerves got the best of you.
 "Whoa, slow down there."
"I thought you wanted to celebrate!" You said to him as the bartender handed you another drink. You took it and walked away. Lando's face was adorned with a smile, but worry still lingered in his mind. Despite that, there was a sense of happiness as the night was finally complete.
You leaned heavily against Lando, his arm wrapped securely around your waist, as the elevator ride made you feel dizzy. He, somehow, seemed frustratingly sober.
"Hey," He chuckled, his voice warm despite the coolness of the metal walls. You managed a watery smile, lifting a hand to touch his cheek. "What are you thinking about?"
"Dogs." You mumbled. "Do you think they dream about bones?"
Lando's laugh filled the small space. "Maybe. I don't know beautiful."
"Do you think I'm beautiful?" You blurted out, smiling innocently.
He stopped in front of your room, his gaze holding yours. The concern that had flickered in his eyes earlier was gone, replaced by something more intense. "You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen." A giggle erupted from your lips. Lando reacted instinctively, clapping a hand over your mouth. It was late, and the last thing they needed was a noise complaint. "Shh." He murmured. "Gotta be quiet, love."
You nodded. "Okay!" 
"Where's your key?" he asked, his voice laced with a hint of exasperation. You shrugged, the simple action requiring more effort than you cared to admit.
"Lando?" You whined. "Sleepy..."
He cursed under his breath, scanning the empty hallway. Walking up to the front desk for a key wasn't exactly his ideal scenario.
"Alright, you're coming with me." He said gently, scooping you up in his arms. A sleepy protest tumbled from your lips, but you clung to him instinctively as he carried you back towards the elevator.
"Can we go to the beach?" You mumbled as the doors closed.
"The beach will be there in the morning." He replied, a hint of amusement in his voice. "It's almost five am."
A giggle escaped you. "Naked swim?"
He cleared his throat, the sound a little rough. You'd been a delightful firecracker all night, and he was struggling to keep his cool. "The shower's a much better option right now."
The elevator doors slid open, and with a sigh, he carried you out, your head chilling against his shoulder. He fumbled with his keycard, finally pushing the door open with his foot.
In the room, he gently laid you on the bed, the soft sheets making you relax and close your eyes.
For a moment, he stood there, watching you. The urge to pull you close, to feel your warmth against him, was killing him. But your vulnerability state held him back.
"Hey, love?" He said softly, his voice laced with concern. "Can I take off your shoes?"
You mumbled something incomprehensible but managed a weak nod. He carefully removed your heels, his fingers brushing against your ankle for a fleeting moment that sent a jolt through him.
"Maybe a shower would be good." He suggested, his voice gruff. "You'll sleep better."
"With you?" She asked him, excited.
Lando, still feeling the effects of alcohol, ran his fingers through his hair, feeling hot.
"You can't imagine how much I want to say yes... But no, not tonight." You pouted. Grabbing your hands, he pulled you up. "Ask me again tomorrow!"
He gently led you to the bathroom and helped you sit down. He waited for the water to warm up, and when it was ready, he turned around. Suddenly, Lando's breath caught in his throat.
Without him realising, you had taken off your clothes. You stood bathed in the soft glow, vulnerability etched on your face, wearing only your black lace lingerie.
He tore his gaze from you. His heart beat a frantic rhythm against his ribs, mimicking the feel of the alcohol in his veins. Only if you weren't drunk...
"Are you okay?" Your voice was so gentle and innocent, nothing like it normally sounded. You reached out and touched his back. He flinched the innocent gesture a powerful trigger for his already steaming desire.
"Y/N, please!" He pleaded. "If you keep touching me..." The sentence trailed off, the implication hanging heavy in the air. The more he looked at you, the more his willpower crumbled. Shame washed over him. "Love, just take a shower. You need to sober up." He gestured to a pile of clothes on the counter. "There are some of mine there. I'll be outside when you're done."
You stayed in the shower for a while, the hot water feeling good against your skin. You weren't completely sober, the world still held a gentle sway, but the edge of drunkenness had dimmed.
Stepping out, you wrapped yourself in a fluffy towel Lando had left out. 
As you dried your hair, you caught your reflection in the mirror. Even in the state of mind you were, you knew you were going to regret it in the morning. You put on the clothes he had left you and shoved the feeling down. 
Lando, scrolling through his phone on the bed, looked up when the bathroom door creaked open. Relief washed over him as he saw you wrapped in his clothes.
"Feeling better?" He asked. You offered a small nod, leaning weakly against the doorframe. The playful energy that had fueled you earlier had dimmed, replaced by exhaustion. "Good!" He said, a hesitant smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Sleepy?" You simply nodded again. He cleared his throat, the silence growing heavy in the room. "So... Are you comfortable sharing the bed, or...?"
"It's fine." You mumbled. A playful glint flickered in your eyes. "And I promise I won't, uh, bite."
Lando chuckled, the sound warm and genuine. "Don't get me wrong, love," He said, his voice dropping to a raspy whisper. "You could do whatever you wanted most nights, believe me. But not tonight."
He gestured to the empty spot beside him on the bed, inviting you to join him, an unspoken tension lingering in the air.
You waddled across the room, the oversized t-shirt hanging loosely on your body. Climbing onto the bed, you scooted closer to him, a nervous feeling running through you, despite the lingering effects of the alcohol still dancing through your veins.
"Can we at least...?" You trailed off, your voice barely a whisper. "You know... a goodnight kiss?
"You're a menace when you're drunk, you know that?" He teased, a playful sparkle in his eyes.
You batted your eyelashes in a way you knew usually worked. He sighed, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "Alright, alright!" He complied. "But on the cheek. Lips are off-limits tonight."
You couldn't help the grin that spread across your face. As he leaned in, the faint scent of his cologne filled your senses. He placed a soft kiss on your cheek, sending shivers down your spine.
"Goodnight, Y/N!" He murmured, his voice sending a flutter to your heart. "Hope you'll remember this tomorrow morning."
"Goodnight, race winner." You replied, a hint of sleepiness in your voice.
Sunlight pierced through the blinds, finding your eyelids and forcing them open with a groan. Your head felt like a maraca that had been shaken all night, and your mouth tasted like a desert. Sitting up cautiously, you winced at the throbbing in the back of your head.
Memories and fragments started to come back. The kiss, the club, the dancing, Lando's strong arm around you... and then... a complete blank. Panic started to rise in your chest. What had you done? Had you said something stupid or done something worse?
The bedroom door creaked open and Lando entered, a steaming mug of coffee in his hand. He looked like a vision with his rumpled hair and a smile breaking out on his face as soon as he saw you awake.
"Good morning, sunshine!" He said, his voice sounding awful to your pounding head.
"Don't yell!" You mumbled. "Water?"
He chuckled, handing you a bottle of water. He sat on the edge of the bed, his concern evident in his eyes. You took a grateful sip, the cool liquid easing the dryness in your throat.
"Do you remember anything from last night?" He asked you, sitting on the edge of the bed, his concern evident in his eyes.
You took a deep breath. "I remember... bits and pieces." You admitted, shame creeping up your cheeks. "Lando, I am sorry if I did something or said something wrong... I must have been awful. I was very, very drunk."
He shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "Honestly? I wish you felt that comfortable around me all the time." Lando reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. His touch sent a jolt through you. "You know how much I like you... Y/n, I'm in love with you."
Your heart hammered against your ribs at his confession. A real and pure confession.
"Lando--" You breathed, your voice thick with emotion.
He took your hand in his, his eyes filled with a gentle understanding. "I know..." He said, his voice a soothing balm. "Just know that I'll wait for you. However long it takes." He squeezed your hand.
Tears welled up in your eyes. The years of running, of pushing him away, suddenly seemed pointless. All you wanted was to be here, with him.
Leaning forward, you met his gaze. Then, you cupped his face gently and placed a soft, sweet kiss on his lips. It was a kiss filled with apology and relief.
"I'm tired of running." You whispered against his lips. "I'm in love with you too. I've always have."
Lando couldn't help but grin as you hugged him. First, the win, then the kiss and now the girl of his dreams confessing her feelings. Yeah, you could definitely say it was a very good day for Lando No Wins.
"I love you, Y/n." You smiled, a genuine, heart-melting smile.
"I love you too, Lando." You knew, at that moment, hugging the person you had been in love with for years, that you were finally home.
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ccsainzleclerc5516 · 7 months ago
Text
You Made A Mess Of Me
Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x reader
Warnings: mentions of sexual activities, angst, but happy ending. I actually love this sm I'm in my Lewis era and I can't stop myself
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The penultimate weekend in June meant only one thing, the Spanish GP. You've been thinking for days whether you should go, after all, too much time has passed since the last time.
You knew that your coming there would cause a huge public reaction and that some people might not be happy to see you, but you couldn't resist. Your curiosity was stronger than you and something you could never fight against.
The last time you attended the GP, you were in a slightly different role than you were now, some would say more important role. That was 2 years ago when you were reputed to be the most popular wag in the paddock. Lewis Hamilton's girlfriend. His greatest support and the woman who he dedicated every victory to.
To Lewis, you were the woman he loved more than life, his everything and more. He proudly presented you to everyone, always mentioned you in interviews, saying that you were his strength and motivation for all his success. When you couldn't attend his races, he was always in a hurry to come back to you, holding you like a drop of water in the palm of his hand.
His love for you could not be described in words. You were the "it couple". Lewis made it well known to everyone that you were his. He really was madly in love with you.
You loved him too. He taught you what love means, he taught you how to love, showed you what love really is. You felt safe next to him and you knew that with him you had everything a woman could want. When you cheered him on at the races, you were the loudest, his most faithful cheerleader who experienced every victory and every defeat together with him.
Everything was perfect until one day when Lewis started hinting that he wanted to take your relationship one step further. Given that you were 25 at the time and he was 37, you knew that he was at the age when he wanted a family and children and he let you know that he wanted that with you.
You panicked, inexplicable anxiety gripped you, you weren't ready to "grow up" completely. You loved him very much, but you also loved yourself and that's why you didn't wanna settle for something you weren't ready for.
You felt that you still wanted to develop yourself as a person before marrying someone, you still wanted to travel with your friends, have fun, enjoy life and youth. You knew you didn't want marriage then, but you also didn't want to make Lewis wait for you and suffer in some way. You wanted him to be happy and achieve everything he wanted, even if it wasn't with you.
And so your perfect three-year relationship came to an end. You moved to Spain, disappeared from Lewis's life overnight and he never heard from you again. Despite his best efforts to reach you and find you, he couldn't. You left him completely heartbroken, desperate, lost, he just wasn't the man he used to be. His world has changed since you left his life.
Later, all the pain and hurt he carried inside him turned into immense anger and rage towards you. You even thought he started to hate you. You knew about it because you heard that in one interview he said, when he was asked about y/n, that that name no longer exists for him.
That's why now that you were invited by Tommy Hilfiger as a special guest to the Spanish GP, you doubted whether it was wise to go.
You didn't really care about the public's reaction, but you were a little afraid of Lewis's reaction. You were afraid to see the contempt in his eyes for you. But still, above all, you were a determined, smart and self-confident girl who knew her values ​​and knew what she wanted. And that's why you accepted the invitation.
Everyone's jaws dropped to the floor when you stepped into the paddock wearing black sunglasses in a tight strapless black dress that perfectly accentuated your curves. You caught everyone's eyes.
As well as the eyes of a man who could not forget you.
"Lewis, I don't wanna upset you before the race, but..she's here." Bono said quietly.
"Who is here?" He asked cluelessly with furrowed eyebrows.
"I-I.." Bono stammered.
"Bono, who is here?"
"Y/n..She's in George's garage."
Lewis froze. His heart dropped and legs buckled when Bono said your name. He thought someone was playing a joke on him, so after a minute of standing still without blinking and the initial shock, he had to go see for himself what he heard.
"Lewis, I don't think it's a good idea to-" Bono tried to stop him, but there was no point in trying to do that. Lewis didn't think for a second, he just sprinted towards his teammate's garage, his racing suit half unbuttoned hanging behind him. He had to see you with his own eyes to believe that you were actually there.
The moment he ran into the garage and saw you there, at first he couldn't believe his eyes, but when you took off your glasses and looked at him, everything came back to him in a second, all the memories, but also the anger.
Your legs went numb as well, your heart fluttered, but you didn't dare to approach him or say anything. The whole room fell silent as the two of you looked at each other. Everyone knew about the two of you and there was an awkward silence that was broken by Lewis himself when he left after half a minute of standing still.
It was minutes before Lewis was supposed to get into the car and he barely recovered from seeing you. He couldn't think straight, and the race was about to start. You here, was the last thing he needed.
At first he couldn't focus, all he thought about was you, but somehow he managed to shift his thoughts to the anger and rage he felt towards you and it woke up that beast in him that he was on the track and after a long long time Lewis finished as the winner of the race. And all thanks to you, although not because he was happy that you were there, but because he decided to take out his anger on the track.
You followed the race with folded hands hoping for the best result from Lewis and when you saw that he finished P1, you didn't show it too much, but there was no an end to your happiness. Your eyes watered and you proudly watched him celebrate. For a moment everything was like before, only in reality, nothing was like before.
In the evening you decided to go out with your friends and of course there were also F1 drivers in that same club, among them Lewis of course, who were celebrating his victory.
You wanted to, but you didn't approach him. You decided to have fun with your friends, you danced and basically acted like he wasn't even there even though you could feel his eyes on you the whole night following who was around you. And since this was Lewis' night he had too much to drink and decided to approach you himself the first moment he saw you headed for the toilet.
Before you stepped into the toilet, you felt a strong grip on your arm pulling you out. You turned around only to see Lewis' bloodshot eyes staring at you.
"Lewis? W-what are you doing?" You stammered.
"You better go outside with me if you don't want me to make a scene here in front of everyone." He said sternly through clenched teeth and that's why you decided not to resist. Attracting bad attention was the last thing you needed.
Of course all eyes were on the two of you as Lewis dragged you out of the club, you just couldn't avoid it. Once you stepped out he took you to the place behind the club where there were the fewest people.
"Did you come today to mess with my head or what?" He spat out.
"I was there on business, not because I wanted to" You half lied.
"Please" He scoffed. "How dare you show up after two years and just before the start of the race? How dare you play with my head like that?" He asked what you were most afraid of before coming.
You gulped before starting a sentence, but he cut you off "I-"
"You fucking put me through hell and back when you left and then one day you just decided to come as a guest out of nowhere?"
"Lewis, I-"
"And then you went out knowing that I'll be there, and you decide to dance and have fun with other guys in front of me as if I wasn't there? You have no fucking shame!" He growled. You understood his anger and it hurt you, it almost made you cry, but you knew this was the alcohol in his system talking.
"As far as I remember, we have not been together for two years" You say fighting to keep your voice from cracking.
"Oh yeah, and about that. Do you feel good knowing that you killed me when you left?" He asks. "You fucking disappeared for your own selfish reasons. Do you know what you did to me when you left my life? You fucking ruined me, y/n!" He screamed in your face and it hurt like hell. "How could you do that to me? I was ready to give you everything, I would've taken the stars out of the sky if you had asked me to, and you did what? You fucking left!"
"I am very well aware of what I did and why. You have no idea how hard it was for me to make that decision, but I wasn't ready to give you what you wanted."
"Yeah, you weren't ready because you still wanted to fuck other guys right?" He insulted, but you couldn't let him talk like that about you because that was far from the truth.
"Don't talk to me like that!" You threatened.
"And why not? Because the truth hurts you? Do you even realize that you were everything to me? I was ready to give it all for you, fuck, I lived for you, y/n! We had a perfect relationship, the kind of that many dreamed of and you ruined it all!"
"I knew what you wanted and I wasn't ready to give you that, Lewis! I was too young and I didn't want to make you wait because I saw in your eyes how much you wanted it!" You couldn't take it anymore. You broke into tears right in front of him. "I didn't leave because I stopped loving you, but quite the opposite because I loved you too much to deny you what you want"
"But I wanted it with you, fuck!!" He screamed clutching his head. "If you weren't ready then, I would have waited for you because I didn't want a family with anyone but you! But you didn't even let me explain it to you because you disappeared from the face of the earth!" He spoke breathlessly.
"I'm sorry..I don't know what else to tell you. Hurting you was the worst thing I could do, I realize that." You cried.
He stepped closer to you and put his cupped your cheeks. "I fucking lived for you, y/n, and you made me a mess of a man" He almost sobbed.
"I suffered too, don't think I didn't. Leaving you was the hardest decision I ever had to make."
"And yet you still did. Getting over you was by far the hardest thing ever. I'm Lewis fucking Hamilton. It's not in my mentality to break down over someone that much and let it completely take over my life and yet you managed to do that to me" He allowed his emotions to overwhelm him and now he was crying too while leaning his forehead against yours. "Please, leave. I don't ever wanna see you again."
His words broke you all over again although you could've expected it, somehow you hoped it wouldn't come to that. He released you from his grip, wiped his tears, composed himself and walked back to the club leaving you outside completely broken and in tears.
You had no choice but to go to the hotel where you were staying at. You didn't feel like having fun or anything anymore, you just wanted to get away from everything and cry your heart out in the silence of your room.
You cried quietly in the taxi all the way to the hotel then you continued in your room. It was already 3 in the morning when you found the strength to take off your makeup and lie down in bed.
All you could think about was did you really make such a mistake by leaving Lewis? You knew you hurt him, but you had no idea to what extent. You lay down in bed and prayed to God to take all your pain away because it was unbearable. The fact that it was your fault hurt even more.
After you left and Lewis returned to the club, he continued to drink and think of you. He knew you left crying and despite everything you did, knowing you were in pain made him hurt even more.
Lewis being Lewis, he found his sources and forced them to tell him which hotel you were staying at. He couldn't help himself, he needed to see you. After all, you were the love of his life. He knew there was no one else for him except for you and that's why he headed towards your hotel and after many threats at the reception he finally got your room number.
You weren't sleeping, you were lying and looking at the ceiling when you heard knocking on your door. At first you were scared, but approached the door anyway asking who it was.
"It's me. Open the door." Lewis said leaning his forehead against the door.
You opened the door not expecting him at all. You couldn't believe he was right there in front of you. You didn't know how he got to you, but at that moment you didn't even care. All you cared about was that he was there.
"Lewis?" You asked quietly as you opened the door. "What are you doing here?"
"To be completely honest, I have no fucking idea." He spoke. "I knew you left crying, and even though you didn't deserve it, I couldn't take it." He stepped in closing the door behind him. You smiled softly through your tears and he moved closer until your back touched the wall behind you.
"I'm here because I still can't wrap my head around the fact that you're not mine" He said.
"If only you knew how much I'm still yours, Lewis"
"Well, unfortunately I don't know, because you haven't done anything for two years to show me that" He slurred putting your cheeks between his hands once again. "But I do know that you're gonna be the death of me" You squeezed your eyes shut at his words.
"Tell me if you have ever found someone who loved you more than me?" He asked.
"I haven't.." There was no point in lying to him. "I wasn't even looking for someone"
"Yeah you didn't and you know why? Because that's not fucking possible." He stated. "Nor have I found anyone who made me feel the things I felt with you. Remember how I always used to hold you close to me while I was fucking you? How I made you look me in the eyes when you were about to cum? How I used to hug your shaking body and press my head against your chest to feel your heartbeat? Do you?"
"I do." You nodded squeezing your thighs a little. Even though you were hurting you couldn't help but get turned on by the things he was saying. Your relationship was full of passion and the sex was the best you ever had. You missed it, you have to admit.
"I can't even call it fucking because I was making love to you." His lips were only inches away from yours and all your attention was focused on them. Your eyes begged him to kiss you.
"I thought I was over you and I could live without you, but then you came back into my life and you messed with my mind once again. You can't do that shit anymore, y/n" He said moving his hands from your face down to your hips tightly gripping them.
"You don't have to live without me anymore because I swear I'm ready to give you everything I couldn't before." You say wrapping your arms around his neck. "I was so wrong, Lew. I miss you. I miss your touch, I miss what we had"
He didn't say anything but finally connected his lips with yours. He kissed you so passionately, so eagerly it brought life back to both of you. He gripped your butt and made you jump up wrapping your arms around his torso. Without breaking the kiss he led you towards the bed gently lying you down, him being on top of you.
"Please, don't make me regret this" He said exhaling in short breaths.
"I'm yours, baby. I've always been." You said breathlessly. "It’s just the two of us I promise..”
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woso-dreamzzz · 5 months ago
Text
Camp III
Pernille Harder x Baby!Reader
Part of The Big Adventures Universe
Summary: Your first time at Denmark camp
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"Well, well, well," Stine says with a smile," Doesn't this little lady look delightful?"
Pernille rolls her eyes fondly as she grabs the bags from the car.
She feels uncharacteristically nervous stepping back into training. It's her first camp since your birth and you're still tiny, just learning how to explore the world around you and still communicating in babbles.
You don't look nervous at all but that's probably because you don't understand anything at all.
That's okay.
Pernille can be nervous enough for the both of you.
Stine reaches out to poke you in the cheek, finger stopping inches away before she retracts it.
"Sorry," She says," That's rude. Can I touch her?"
It's nice that Stine has asked. Some people don't ask and just touch you out of nowhere.
"You can hold her if you want. She's fairly docile."
You're moved from Pernille to Stine and you blink in confusion at the strange woman that now fills your gaze.
"Well, hello there," Stine coos," Aren't you pretty in your jersey?"
You'd been put in one of Pernille's old Denmark jerseys for the flight over to sleep in. It's Pernille's size so it's massive on you but it's nice and warm and smells just like her so you didn't have much of a problem sleeping in it.
"Yes, you are! Denmark's so much better than Sweden!"
Pernille laughs, pulling the suitcase inside. "Don't let Magda hear you say that."
"It's a good thing that Magda isn't here then. No doubt she'll be putting this beautiful little girl into some horrific yellow shirt."
"I've tried to stop her," Pernille says," But she just won't let it go."
"You should have kept her as just a Harder," Stine says with a laugh," Because the Eriksson genes are already out in full force. We don't want her to grow up to play for Sweden."
Pernille laughs too. "I'm sure we'll see her in a Denmark jersey at some point."
The staff have been very accommodating to your presence, Pernille notes. That had been one of her worries.
You were much too young for her to feel comfortable separating from you for the duration of camp, even if you would have only gone to her parent's house to be looked after.
Perhaps it was a bit of separation anxiety from her side but Pernille didn't want to leave you for a second.
The staff were fine with it, placing a travel cot in her room for you to sleep in as well as a few stray bath toys for you to use during bath time.
There's kid's cutlery and bowls and plates for Pernille to choose from even though you're still breastfeeding and have no need for it. There's formula too and a range of bottles and a steriliser should Pernille need it.
There's a nice little shady spot on the pitch set up with you, complete with a travel pen and a sensory mat and one of the staff members stays with you the entire time just so Pernille can fully focus on training.
You're a hit with the rest of the team though.
Everyone seems to want to hold you and talk to you and most days there's a line going out the door of Pernille's room in the morning.
Most people think you're just delightful in the morning in a big fluffy onesie and your wispy hair all messed up and sleep-mussed.
It's actually a big help to have someone coo and hold you outside while Pernille goes through her own morning routine.
She's learnt how to do it all one-handed now but it's still nice to be able to go through it without a babbling baby hanging off her arm.
"She can't eat cake?" Sanne asks as Pernille pushes away the plate.
"She's a baby," Pernille laughs as you, fairly aggressively, suck at the bottle in your mouth," She can't digest it yet."
"But we're celebrating your return! How can she celebrate if she can't eat cake?"
"She's got a bottle," Pernille says as you kick your little legs in happiness," That's enough for her."
"But it's cake! How could you deny her this?!"
"You're almost as dramatic as Magda. She literally can't eat it. Leave it a few months and we'll try again."
"But-"
You bat the bottle away from you, legs still kicking.
"Oh! Are you done?"
Pernille frowns, looking at the way the bottle is still half full. She presses it back against your lips but you refuse to open them.
"What's up with you today? Huh?" Pernille laughs a little at the disgruntled look on your face, a perfect mirror image to the one that appears so often on Magda's.
"Maybe," Sanne says," She wants some cake."
467 notes · View notes
lovelettersfromluna · 1 year ago
Text
Supercut
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Summary: “In my head, I play a supercut of us.”
an: halfway through writing this I decided that this isn't technically the finale hehe, more of cam girl!Ellie come, this is just the end of them being stupid. mwah mwah love you all more than you know.
Warnings: SMUT!! 18+, MDNI, angst, cam girl!ellie, Ellie is a real idiot in this one tbh, arguing, hurt/eventual comfort, toxic!Ellie, tribbing, making out, pet names, this one is a little short im sorry, lmk if I missed anything!!!
Read part 1 here, and part 2 here!
You know that gross feeling you get whenever you look back at old pictures or videos? You know, the one that you feel at the pit of your stomach, and it makes you really happy but also really sad? What's that called again?
Oh, right. Its melancholy
It's that feeling where you have a specific memory, and you know that no matter what, that time is gone. You can't replicate it, and the only place that it will live is in the confides of your own mind
And it sucks, because you don't even know when those moments are going to be made. There's no warning in your brain that the day you have planned is going to be so impactful to your life, that you will constantly chase that feeling, trying to replicate what it was that made that time so blissful so that you can feel that same warmth again.
You don't even get the chance to savor it while it lasts.
It almost makes you feel like you never wanted those times to happen to begin with, because you would have been fine without them. Sacrifice one of the times of your life so that you wouldn't have to spend countless nights laying in bed, only hoping that you will experience something that can even come close to how it all felt in the past.
Most of the time, it's easy to simply look back at those memories, feel that disgusting mixture of happiness and sadness, and then move on.
But for some god awful reason, you can't seem to do that this time.
This time, it lingers. It sits there, knocking at your chest, demanding to be acknowledged, to have all of your undivided attention, giving you no choice but to think about how fucked up this all is, how all of this was a complete and utter mistake, and how you have no way in taking it back.
It makes you wish time travel was real, yearning for some mad scientist to come out and say 'look everyone! you can reverse the mistakes you've made in the past!'.
But that doesn't happen, and you have no choice but to live with the icky feeling that settles at the pit of your stomach, and refuses to go away.
You weren't entirely sure what would happen after that night with Ellie, the night that she laid her weight on top of you, fucking you into her mattress over and over again, whispering the sweetest words into the nape of your neck, holding you the entire night through once you were finished, silence overcoming the space as you both fell into a blissful sleep.
It was hard to really tell where you both stood, but you weren't an idiot.
You knew, that you and Ellie had made love that night.
It was truly like nothing you had ever experienced. It was like you were constantly in that delicious state before sleep, where the world is soft, and everything is so comfortable right before you reach the point of unconsciousness, and everything feels so utterly perfect.
That's what it felt like, and you knew that from the moment Ellie had pulled you against her chest, and pressed a soft kiss to your head before you both fell asleep.
It happened, but God....you really wished it hadn't.
Because now? Things were so much fucking worse.
The feeling Ellie gave you scared you, and it made the ugliest thoughts fill your head when you woke up. You felt wrong, the skin on your body feeling filthy for doing something so intimate with her, with your roommate. You felt like you were taking something that wasn't yours, something that was never meant for you in that way.
So you ran.
Not far, of course. You were lucky enough to wake up before Ellie, gently peeling yourself from her body, your stomach sinking whenever she mumbled something gently in her sleep, her hands mindlessly reaching for your body before she fell back into her deep slumber.
You stood over her for a moment, watching as her eyes flickered in her sleep, lips parted as she snored gently. The feeling you had when you watched her sleep scared you, because you felt...like you wanted to stay with her, protect her, hold her in your arms and ignore the reality of how much this was fucking with your head, ignore the fact that she had simply wanted help with her work.
It wasn't supposed to be like this.
You inhaled deeply before you left her room, closing her door gently before you quickly went to your bedroom, tugged on a t shirt and jeans before you grabbed your jacket and left the apartment.
You stayed out in the city all day, that day. You were like a ghost, trying to sort out the feelings that were settling in your chest, opting to simply ignore them instead. You made sure to leave your phone at home, knowing any texts from Ellie wouldn't do you any good with how you were feeling.
You didn't return home until later that afternoon, the sun setting, slowly casting the familiar darkness of night onto the city that you had come to know. You wished you could stay out longer, avoid the situation more, but it was only gettin colder, and you knew you had to go back to your apartment sooner or later.
When you got there, you were greeted by silence. You don't even hear Ellie's usual music playing from inside her room. You frowned softly, looking around a bit for any signs of the girl there. You looked down, finding that her leather jacket and helmet weren't where they usually were.
Ellie had left too.
You should've been happy at that, giving you even more time away from the girl than planned, yet you can't ignore the ugly tinge of sadness and annoyance that lingers at the back of your throat at the thought of here simply...leaving.
When you got to your room, you quickly grabbed your phone, wishfully thinking that there would be a string of messages from your roommate, asking you where you've gone, and if everything is okay between you both.
But when you unlock your phone, there's nothing there.
Not a single call, or a single text.
And you suddenly realized, that great minds think alike.
So, that's how things go with you and Ellie after that. There isn't a grand scene of love, where you both confess that you had both felt that way from the moment you set eyes on each other, there isn't a happily ever after where you become her girl, and she becomes yours. There isn't any of that, you two simply go from being friends, to barely being roommates.
You guys never speak about it. There's never a conversation that happens to even clear the air, pretending as though that night in her bedroom never happened.
There's a sense of hostility that follows after all of it happens, because Ellie won't even fucking look at you now, let alone stand in the same room as you. If you're in the living room, she's in her bedroom, and if you're in the kitchen, she leaves the apartment to go eat somewhere else.
It leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, because you can practically feel the hatred she has for you radiating off of her body whenever she's around, and it's a shock to you that you two are still even living together. The Ellie that would once sit in the living room with you, practically tugging your body to sit on her lap, has succumb to someone who barely even exists to you anymore.
And it doesn't even end there.
Ellie never really had girls in and out of the apartment before, even before you and her started filming and having sex. She was pretty strict about letting others into her space, only ever bringing around girls she was dating long term, or her designated filming partner. You never had a problem with it, letting Ellie know time and time again that the place was half hers, and she could bring whoever she wanted.
But that seemingly changed after you and her happened.
Because suddenly, there's a different girl at your apartment every night, and Ellie is fucking them ten different ways into the next month.
And it always happens to be on the nights before you have to wake up early to go in and open the record store.
She becomes relentless.
You first noticed it happening when she breezed past you on a Friday night, clearly dressed up for a night out. You couldn't really ignore the way your core tightened at how fucking good she looked, the feeling quickly overshadowed by the way she yet again left the house as if you weren't sitting right there.
After getting yourself to bed for some much needed shut eye, you were rudely awakened by the sound of your front door slamming open, followed by the sound of tumbling and soft giggles..
Which then slowly turned into the sounds of Ellie fucking a girl in her bedroom that was directly across from yours.
And it kept going, night after night, the sound of Ellie pleasuring another woman was all that you were left with. Not even your headphones on full volume could drown out the banging of Ellies headboard against the wall.
You have never been a jealous person, especially when it came to Ellie and her sex life. However, after what happened between the both of you, and the very clear fact that Ellie was indeed doing it out of spite..
You really couldn't ignore the fire you felt at the pit of your stomach whenever you heard some random girl moaning out Ellie's name to the top of her fucking lungs.
It was then that you came to terms with the fact that enough was enough.
And you had to move out.
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It wasn't long until you wouldn't leave your room.
You seriously couldn't stomach the way it felt, being ignored by Ellie, her constant avoidance a reminder of how much of a bad idea it was to agree to filming with her in the first place. If that wasn't enough, constantly seeing her leave the apartment to go meet up with another girl started to hurt even more.
And you really didn't want to face the truth behind that.
There was something unsettling that came with the feeling it gave you, because how could you go from not even batting an eyelash at Ellie walking out of her bedroom with Julia, to feeling tears prickle at the edge of your eyes every time you heard her fucking someone else across from your room.
Because it's cruel, and you know you were wrong to leave her the way you did, but she left too. You knew that what you did was wrong, but surely you didn't deserve all of this? And why would she even want to hurt you like this in the first place? Surely you were the only one that felt this ridiculous conflicting feeling that only brought you stress.
And yet, you only found new ways to torture yourself.
It happens one night after work, you're tired and all you want to do is peel off your clothes and hop into bed.
Opting to grab your laptop, wanting to watch some mindless video on the internet to lull you to sleep, you are suddenly faced with something that had been waiting to haunt you.
A link to one of your videos with Ellie was still on your browser.
She had sent it to you a while ago, wanting to show you how well it was doing, and all the positive feedback that it was receiving, you meant to watch it at the time, but never got around to it. Now, it was sitting there, collecting dust until you decided to open it.
And you knew you shouldn't have, because that chapter of your life has closed, and you intended to keep it fully closed.
But curiosity did kill the cat, didn't it?
You didn't think twice before opening it, the link quickly flashing across your screen and taking you to Ellie's page. The thumbnail is of the two of you, the last video you guys had filmed. Its you, straddling Ellie on her bed, her strong hands gripping your hips, probably forcing you to grind down on her lap.
You feel your core tighten at the sight of it.
You don't look at it much longer, or read the comments either, because you know they will all be asking where you've gone, and whether or not you were coming back.
Instead of closing your laptop and going to sleep like you should have, you kept scrolling through Ellies page. You come to find the usual, seeing that she had been live the past few nights, as well as posted a few videos for her viewers to catch up on, none of it out of the ordinary.
Something does catch your eye however.
Its a video that was posted a few nights ago, and you can barely make it out, but you can see a thumbnail of Ellies tattooed hand pushed between a girls thighs, doing what you can only assume to be fingering her.
And that girl is definitely not you.
She had found herself a new partner.
It’s no shock that she did. She’d been actively fucking other girls, someone in and out of your apartment almost every night, something that she had made sure to make very clear to you…
But there was just something about actually seeing it that hurt like hell
You slammed your laptop shut, a bit too hard, but you were suddenly filled with something foreign to you, something that you hardly felt for anyone.
Quickly grabbing you blankets and tugging them over your body, you squeezed your eyes shut to try and erase the image of Ellie with another girl from your brain, the image slowly tainting the deepest corners of your mind so that you won't ever be able to do just that.
You couldn't do this anymore.
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Ellie was just as bad at talking about her feelings as you were.
Because the morning after you and her had sex, she wanted nothing more than to wake up with you, kiss you, hold you, move on from this agonizingly slow phase that you two were in, where she was allowed to do the things that she always wanted to do, just conditionally.
She wanted to wake up, and move forward whatever the fuck you and her were stuck in.
But you didn’t. You simply woke up before her, and left, leaving Ellie to feel like a fucking idiot.
Because maybe she read into the entire thing wrong, maybe you didn’t feel anything for her, maybe you really did only see her as your roommate and nothing more than that….
Maybe that look in your eye that she was sure she saw when she was fucking you, was all in her head.
So when you ran, she did too.
And soon, Ellie’s sadness turned into anger, and all she wanted to do, was hurt you the same way that you hurt her.
She wanted you to hear her with other girls, she wanted you to see her with other women on her streams, she wanted you to see what it was that you’d lost, what you’d stupidly lost when you decided to run away from her the morning after it all.
But maybe she’d taken it too far.
Because Ellie’s anger turned into something that she didn’t want, because no matter how much noise she made, how good she tried to look whenever she was getting ready to go out with some random girl, no matter what she did to make you jealous, you never batted an eyelash her way, you never once reacted to anything that she did that was directed at you for the sole purpose of getting your attention.
And not only did it further prove to Ellie that you didn’t give a fuck about her, but it also made her so much more frustrated with you.
Did you seriously not have a fucking soul? Could you not even acknowledge her? Hurt for her? Feel hurt by her? Why wasn’t it working? Why weren’t you…..why couldn’t you just…..
Why couldn’t you just fucking want her.
Ellie was truly at her last straw, because being with other women was something she already didn’t like doing, but it was slowly eating away at her, picking away at her insides and making her feel hollow inside, a shell of who she used to be when she was with you.
And when she didn’t think things could get any worse, she found you doing something she only saw in her nightmares.
She hadn’t really noticed it at first, but slowly, your belongings began to disappear from the apartment. Particularly in the living room.
Your stack of blankets would get smaller and smaller as the week went by, the dorky little figures you had littered around different shelves and the tv stand started to disappear too, little parts of you started leaving, one by one, and Ellie was too far up her own ass to even notice.
Maybe if she had, she could’ve convinced you to stay.
In all honesty? Ellie probably wouldn’t even have realized you were leaving until it was too late, the girl far too consumed in her little revenge streak to notice the slow but sure disappearance of you, the way the remnants of you slowly began to leave one by one.
It just so happened that on a day that you were packing up some of your boxes, you had left your door cracked open, thinking that Ellie wasn’t home.
She was passing by your room when she heard a soft huff, the sound quickly catching her attention as she slowly walked towards your door, catching sight of the various opened boxes scattered around your room that was already looking sparse due to packing it all the way.
That. That was the straw the broke the camels fucking back.
Because suddenly, Ellie is pushing your door open, the force from her hand making it slam against your wall, the loud sound making you flinch to look over in her direction with wide eyes.
“Ellie?” You question softly.
The sound of her name rolling off your tongue makes a shiver run down her spine, because god….had she missed the way you said it.
Her eyes are angry, eyebrows furrows together as her eyes scan your room, looking at the boxes, your half empty closet, your empty book shelf.
“What the fuck is going on here?” She spits out, her tone making you wince slightly. It’s the first time you’ve heard her speak to you in almost an entire month and it’s so fucking hostile, so pointed.
This really wasn’t how you wanted this to go.
You let out a soft sigh, bringing your palm up to ran along your face as you look down at the boxes as well, heart sinking at the thought of going.
“Look…Ellie…I was planning on telling you…I just-“ she’s quick to cut you off, walking further into your bedroom as her eyes scan the walls, watching as they began to grow emptier and emptier the further in she looked. She scoffs, her green eyes finally landing on yours, her smoldering grip enough to take your breath away.
“Bull-fucking-shit. You weren’t going to tell me anything, and you know that” she argues, nostrils flared as she stares at you with eyes filled with that same glare of hate that you saw every time she’d glaze over you within recent weeks.
And she was right. You had no intention of telling her anything. She would learn that you were gone once you were gone, because that’s what you did.
You always ran.
You let out a sigh of defeat before you step away from her, fully intending on continuing packing. You didn’t want this to stop you, or put anymore obstacles in your way of leaving. This was what you had to do, and you knew that.
“I can’t stay here anymore, Ellie…things are fucked up between us and I just…I won’t deal with it anymore” you mumble out, your voice tired, weak. A clear indication of how you felt towards the entire situation. It was draining you, and you knew that for your own well being, you had to get out.
The sight of you packing as if she wasn’t in your room, trying to figure out why you were leaving, makes her even more upset. It blinds her from your words, from the weakness in your voice, in your appearance. She ignores it because the anger she feels is much easier to indulge in.
"So that's it? You're just gonna leave? Without saying anything to me?" she barks out, her tone making you feel worse than you already do.
And then it all stops, because why the hell are you feeling bad when this isn't even your fault.
You slowly turn to Ellie, your eyebrows furrowed as you stare at her in disbelief, cocking your head to the side slowly before you start to speak.
"Are you listening to yourself right now, Ellie? Do you ever stop to think for one second that not everything is about you?" The tone of your voice is so calm, words so slow and articulated, it barely even sounds like you're mad.
And it scares you, and it scares her.
You don't stop there, you couldn't even if you wanted to.
"This wasn't my idea, none of it was. I agreed to help you because you asked it of me, and I clearly have no fucking sense of boundaries. I get that what I did was wrong, and I shouldn't have left you that morning, but no one is fucking perfect" You defend, your own breath become more shallow the more you speak, your anger and frustration finally rising to the surface.
"This isn't good for me. You aren't good for me, you've been fucking different girls every goddamn night just to hurt me, and you're a fucking liar if you deny it." you spit out, making Ellie wince slightly, yet her eyebrows never unravel from how furrowed they are, and the frown on her lips is still there.
When you said it out loud though, she realized just how bad it was.
"I did it to get your fucking attention...not to hurt you" She barely whispers, staring down at you. You can't help but laugh softly, scoffing at her words before you give her a gentle sigh.
"Oh it got my attention, Ellie. It got it so much, that I can't bare for you to have it anymore..." you mumble out softly before you turn away from her, unable to stare into her eyes for any longer.
"I don't know what happened between us that morning...but I want nothing more than to just..forget about it all" You let out meekly, feeling yourself reduce to that small ball of insecurities once again.
And Ellie finally softens when she sees it, because you never let your guard down this much.
She inhales deeply, taking a step towards you, trying to get closer to you. You don't step back, or flinch, you simply ignore her, carrying on to pack your things as if she wasn't there, standing above you.
"You hurt me too...you know" she mumbled out, her voice finally dropping that hostile tone that she had when she first walked in. You're quick to turn towards her, spinning around to set your eyes that were quickly growing redder by the second.
"And Im sorry!" you shout, your voice going the loudest it had yet, it makes Ellie flinch.
You sigh out tiredly before you bring your hand up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. "If I could go back and do it differently..I would..but too much has happened, Ellie...I don't..." you trail off, struggling to find the proper words before you sigh softly, finally speaking again.
"I don't see you the same way, anymore" you mumble out.
This makes Ellies heart seize up, because what do you mean by that? What are you trying to tell her?
You move to sit on your knees, you bare legs coming in contact with the cold, wooden floor as you begin packing more things in a different box. There's no more fighting, there isn't anymore arguing, or anger, it's just silent, the occasional sound of your clothes hitting each other when they hit you settle them in the box. You don't even bother to turn around and yell at Ellie, or even tell her to get out.
And maybe thats what's hurting her the most. You never yelled, you didn't cry or beg, you didn't do anything when she knew you heard her, saw her with those other girls. All of them were nothing to her, sorry attempts at trying to grab hold of your attention again, get you to show just a little bit of fucking anger, so that she knew you still felt something for her, so that she knew she still had you.
But it was clear to her with the way that you disregarded her after it all, as if she didn't even matter, that she didn't have you anymore.
Did she ever? Did she ever have a chance with you? Was she all in her head? Were you simply just a good friend? A decent roommate who promised to help her out when she needed help? Was all of it just....
Pretend?
She feels like she's running out of options, because she assumed that if anything, you two would fight and end up in a heated, passionate love making session where you two would admit what you had felt all along.
But Ellie was slowly coming to the conclusion that she was being fucking delusional.
Her decisions didn't let up thought, because soon, she's on her knees next to you, grabbing your wrists gently in her hands and pulling you to face her. She feels her heart break when you refuse, trying to pull away from her grasp, mumbling soft complaints of how you needed to finish packing.
When she finally tugs you a bit harder, forcing you to look at her, she feels the weight of her mistakes finally settle on her chest, because you're crying. Your eyes are puffy and your cheeks are stained, and it's all her fucking fault.
She bites back a whimper, tugging her bottom lip into her mouth as she feel her own throat burn with tears.
"Hey...look at me...come on...where's my pretty girl...come on.." She tries over and over again, voice breaking, making you whimper as you try tugging your arms from her grasp.
"Don't you see how fucked up this is, Ellie? We were just screaming at each other and now...now you're calling me your girl" you plead with her, the words bubbling past your lips as the mere sight of here forces more tears from your eyes, making it harder and harder to talk.
Ellie can't talk her way out of this one, not with you. She knows there isn't much she can do, or say, and she feels like she's all out of options, because you're right. All of this is so fucked up, and it makes her insides burn because she's hurt, and you're hurt, and it feels like there's nothing she can do to fix it.
She does the only thing she feels will work. She kisses you.
It's filled with everything. Passion, longing, happiness, sadness, anger, everything that had been pent up between the both of you is poured into the kiss, and it's enough to make you feel dizzy.
But you don't pull away, you melt into her, just like you always do. She feels it too, feels the way you let you defenses down, taking it as a chance to tug your wrists up and around her neck, her own arms resting on your hips as she pulls you closer, her lips working against yours.
"Im....fuck...im so sorry, baby....never meant to hurt you" She mumbles against you, her words coming out as a breathy sigh against your lips, making you moan softly against her. She pushes her tongue into your mouth, giving your waist a soft squeeze.
"M'sorry too..Ellie....shouldn't have left..." You whine against her, and she's quickly shaking her head, gently tugging you up to stand with her before she's pulling you too your bed.
"Just...lemme take care of you..alright" She hums against your lips before she gently pushes you back to lay on your bed, her own body crawling over yours, resting her weight on your body as she goes back to kissing you.
It's so slow, and sensual, and it feels like the entire world is quiet, like you're fading into her, and she's fading into you, and you both are becoming one. It feels so fucking right, and the hole that had been growing in your chest is finally filling up, the essence that is Ellie slowly acting as the medicine that you needed all along.
Ellie rolls over, gripping your hips and tugging you to straddle her waist as she lays back against your bed. Her green eyes eat you up, strong hands already running along your hips and thighs, giving you a squeeze before her hand creeps up your t shirt, pushing it up a bit before it slips under, grasping your boob and massaging it in her hands.
"Fuck...look at you...missed you so much, pretty girl....you can't even imagine.." She sighs softly under her breath, eager hands roaming your body hungrily, as if they've deprived of you for so long, missing the way your skin spilled out from under her hands, always so responsive for her.
You tug your bottom lip between your teeth as you watch her practically worshiping your body with her hands, a soft whine leaving your lips as you rest your hands on her hips, pushing up her t shirt a bit as your thumbs rub small circle into her pale hips.
Her hands rest on your hips, forcing you to grind down onto her lap, making you whine softly, the feeling her her sweats bunching up right at your core, your cotton pajama shorts leaving much too room to be exposed by her touch.
She sits up, grabbing the hem of your shirt before she tugs it off your body, groaning softly as her lips immediately latch onto your nipple, biting and sucking. You moan softly, arching your back a bit and forcing more of you to her mouth, hands wrapped around her neck, toying with the hair at the nape of her neck.
Ellie pushes you back, resting you to lay down before she tugs your pajama shorts and panties off in one go. You promptly spread your legs for her, letting her settle between them, the small gesture making her groan, her strong hands gripping your thighs, grinding against your bare pussy.
"Fuck...such a good girl for me..." she sighs softly against your lips.
You whine, reaching down and tugging at her own pants, fumbling with the waistband of her shorts that hung oh so fucking low.
"Off..wanna feel you.." You moan softly against her, resulting in a soft chuckle from her. She presses one last kiss to your lips before she nods.
"Whatever you want baby...fuck" she mumbles softly under her breath when she pulls back to start tugging her own clothes off, catching a glimpse of your soaking wet pussy and naked body in the dim light of your room.
She looks so fucking desperate, nearly tripping over her sweats as she tugs them off, tossing them somewhere else in your room. It's like she can't get the clothes off quick enough, immediately settling between your legs again once she's naked, groaning softly a the feeling of your pussy against her body.
Her eagerness makes you giggle, and Ellie feels like she's on cloud fucking nine when she hears it, so soft and gentle. She pouts softly, staring down at you while she's already moving to position her pussy over yours, tossing your leg over her shoulder.
"What are you laughing at...hm?" She questions softly, her hips slowly moving against yours as she lets out a soft moan, eyes never leaving yours.
You can barely get the words out, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you feel her slick pussy against yours, clits bumping together in a way that has you nearly salivating.
She chuckles above you, a soft groan following the noise as her lips graze along your calf.
"Thats what I thought...fuck....your pussy is too fuckin good, princess' She moans out softly, her hips moving slowly against yours.
You moan loudly, your hand coming to grip her thigh as you move your hips in tow with hers.
"F-fuck, Ellie....you...that feels so good" you babble out, your other hand gripping the sheets beneath you as she fucks her pussy down onto yours.
Ellie smirks softly as she watches you, watches the way you fall apart beneath her.
"Thats my fuckin girl....you're the only fucking one I need...fuck...." She groans, turning her head a bit to kiss your calf again before her teeth sink into you, biting and sucking your skin, making you moan loudly.
You feel her speed up, hips growing desperate as she chases both hers and your orgasm, making your head spin as your nails dig into her thigh, sure to leave marks in the morning.
"Im....god...Im close Ellie.....fuuuckkkk....dont stop" you gasp out, low, lust filled eyes staring up at her as she continues bullying your pussy with hers, both of your arousal squelching together, making the most explicit noise you've ever fucking heard.
"Come on baby...want you to cum for me...can you do that? Fuck...I feel it too....that's it, pretty girl.." Ellie is babbling too, her lust clouded braun barely uttering words that are comprehensible.
You see her eyes squeeze shut, her moans getting louder and more high pithed, sounding so fucking pretty above you.
You feel like you'll explode, your back arching as the familiar feeling settles in your core, your pussy getting wetter and wetter as you feel your orgasm grow closer.
"A-ah! Ellie!" You scream out as you come undone beneath her.
And she isn't far behind, leaning down and crashing her lips against yours, forcing you to swallow her moans as she cums hard against your pussy, the both of you breathing hard as her hips sputter, pussy sliding around sloppily against yours as she becomes so fucked out, that she loses her rhythm completely.
And just like before, she lays there, on top of you, trying to catch her breath, face tucked against your neck, hands keeping you close, as if you'll disappear in thin air at any given moment.
There's so much going through your head, trying to figure out what it is that happens from here, where you and here go, what steps to take after, all of which come up with blank answers whenever you try to figure out what to do.
You assume she will fall asleep on you as she did before, knock out immediately and leave you to lay there with your plaguing thoughts.
She doesn't, though. You hear a soft hum from her lips, her hands squeeze your waist gently, before she speaks against your neck.
"I love you...so much.." she sighs out, her voice breaking a bit as if shed break down at any given moment.
You aren't sure what you'll do from this point on, but you do know one thing.
You won't run away from Ellie, ever again.
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koenigami · 30 days ago
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soft kissing hour. tags : fluff, fem!reader, touchy togame, mentions of reader wearing make up wc : 950 - Less is more. Togame likes to live by that simple rule in more than only one way. Whether that be his clothing, his minimalistically decorated home, or his decision to exchange his long messy mullet with a plain short undercut a few years ago. As cheesy as it sounds, he just thinks that it is important to appreciate the mundane things in life.
His conviction is even further undermined once your silhouette appears in the doorway of his bedroom.
It is the first time that you’re actually spending the night at his, and to say that he’s more than elated is an understatement.
Being able to watch you pad around his room in his own clothes, hold you in the comfort of his bed, and having the honor to have you being the last thing he sees before falling asleep as well as the first thing when he wakes up the following morning. The simple thought of it makes him only now aware of the fact that his home has been missing something significant all this time. You.
That's why you're met with the most gentle smile once you walk over to the unoccupied side of the bed, clad in an old shirt of his and sweat shorts.
A light shiver runs through your body accompanied with goosebumps rising along your skin once you slip under cold sheets. Yet when Togame's arm reaches out and pulls you in by your waist, you can't hold back the little hum of contentment once you feel his warmth.
You always tell him that he's a walking furnace. Especially on days when he calls you a living icicle. When your freezing fingers meet his warm palms, or when you bury your cold nose in the crevice of his neck, soaking in his warmth and the woody scent of his that you've gotten so very addicted to.
"I don't think I've seen you like this before." He speaks lowly once you're nestled against him, your head resting on his upper arm.
"Like what?" You breathe out and wonder whether he can feel your heartbeat like this, chest to chest. His lips are so close, all you would have to do is lean in the slightest bit only to taste him, slot your mouth against his and forget the entire world around you.
His soft gaze travels across your face. Your eyes, your lips, your jaw, your nose, again your lips-
Your eyebrows perk up when he opens his mouth, obviously unsure about how to word his thoughts. There's a stuttering beat against your chest, and you have no clue whether it is yours or his. A second passes, then another, and when the suspense is getting almost unbearable, Togame only sighs. You both giggle in unison when he just curses while a rosey blush suddenly dusts over his cheeks.
"Jo! Come on, just say it already." The corners of your mouth are starting to hurt from the bright grin plastered on your face. Though it falls slowly when his palm cups your jaw, and he just silently looks at you.
Your heart swells at how tenderly his thumb swipes over the skin of your cheek. Togame Jo, a man so strong yet a man who knows that the blessing of such a strength comes with certain responsibilities.
His broad shoulders and back have always been an advantage when facing adversaries, allowing him to intimidate them easily. Now, he knows that those same shoulders are meant to carry any burdens that seem to weigh you down.
Big strong hands that have punched and broken so much, been covered in blood for way too many times. Now, he can use those same hands to gently hold your softer ones in his, glide them over the plush skin of your curves and feel your warmth.
"What are you doing?" You giggle quietly when his thumb slides higher up to the corner of your eyes, tracing the dark shades which are usually covered by a light sheen of concealer. He can easily move the pad of his finger over your eyebrows and down your nose bridge without you whining about how he's messing up your make up.
"You're just-" You follow his eyes which somehow seem to drift all over your face, as if he wants to take in all of you and burn every single detail into his memory. There's just something so satisfying about being able to see every single mark and blemish on your skin, and it's crazy how he has thought that you could not be any prettier. Yet here you are, taking his breath away and leaving his mind empty, and unable to come up with words to properly describe you. "Pretty. Very."
A beat of silence passes, while you blink at him.
"My boyfriend has such a way with words." Your voice is a pitch higher as you fan your face, containing your smile with a bite on your lip until you shriek when his teeth suddenly graze your jaw.
"Maybe my girlfriend should have dated a poet instead then." There's something darker in his voice as he looks at you through hooded eyes. As if even the single thought of you with someone else is able to kindle a fire inside him that could only ever be extinguished by you yourself.
No, Togame may not be your classical poet. However the way his body language speaks to you, reacts to you, how his fingers trace all kinds of shapes into your skin, how his eyes roam all over your body, pupils dilating and throwing shadows into the green forest in his eyes- It's probably more worth than simple words on a piece paper.
"Nah." You quip and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling yourself impossibly closer to him. The tip of your nose touches his. "I think I'm more than fine like this."
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weirdmarioenemies · 1 month ago
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Name: Gingerbread Toad
Debut: Mario Kart 8
It's a Christmas miracle! Toad, that loud little rascal, has been transmogrified into a cookie! Now, you can eat Toad, and it would be okay! No one will be mad at you! I know I wouldn't.
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Like regular Toads, Gingerbread Toad is plentiful, conformist, and expendable! There are many of them in the crowds of Sweet Sweet Canyon, where they mingle with Gingerbread Men and Gingerbread Women. All three genders are represented here! But this is not just an impressive display of cookies as you might see as background decoration in a holiday-themed baking competition show. These cookies jump! They live!
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They live, I must assume, in gingerbread houses like this one. I hope this homeowner has insurance, because these Yoshis might just mistake this cookie house for Yoshi's cookie, from Yoshi's Cookie! If you look at the top of the house, you will notice Daisy's trademark flower icon... which brings me to the next point!
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Sweet Sweet Canyon is stranger than it seems! In this world, I would be willing to accept a place made of sweets at face value, and Mario has indeed explored such places, but this isn't just ANY sweets place. We can see signs for Peach & Daisy Royal Patisserie around, which I think implies the princesses baked this entire place into existence. For some reason. That's also why there are gingerbread Toads! Gingerbread people are like their own thing. I could see them existing naturally in a Whimsy World like Mario's. But the Toads are personal, surely made intentionally. Peach and Daisy brought life to these cookies... for some reason! A power trip? A marketing tactic? Whatever the case, I don't think it was ethical to grant them life, but deprive them any ability other than "hop up and down". They can't even move their limbs. They couldn't open the door to their own house!
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Sweet Sweet Canyon is Real, and anyone in the Mario world can visit it, with the implication that it has its own airport, or at least one close by. Gingerbread Toad could even travel the Mario world! He could fly to Water Park, go on a ride, and get soggy. Would that be fun, for a cookie? I don't know. Maybe he would just want to feel something. What was the point of this post? Oh yeah! Christmas! Santa is going to eat Gingerbread Toad tonight, and that is that. Goodbye Gingerbread Toad!
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psychologeek · 1 year ago
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12.08.2023 prompt - Love Among the Shelves
Barbara was at the children's section's front desk when he approached.
It was her day shift, but every instinct she developed during her over-a-decade time as a vigilant, screamed inside of her that this man was DANGEROUS.
"Excuse me, sir!" She called him, as she took a quick look at the population.
(fifteen children, ten mothers, and a teen- probably a babysitter, or an older sister).
"How can I help you?" She asked as he stood in front of her, almost 2 ft over her. She quietly unlocked her wheels, and reach for the emergency taser.
"I want to get a library card." He says.
"This is the children section, mr...?"
"Dan. Just Dan. And that not for me, that's for the hellion". He gesture to his left, only seem to notice no one's there.
"ELLIE!"
"Sheesh, Old Mold." A kid show up. "No leed to yell. MY ears are still new and working."
"You can't just disappear without telling anyone!"
"What, am I in prison now? Oh, wait, I'm not the one who's been locked up!"
"You little hazard. What did we say about telling OUTSIDERS private information?"
"Do it for fun and profit?-"
And the man just grab by the back of her hoodie, and pick her up in one hand.
"That's the Hellion. She needs a library card."
The kid move a little, trying to escape, before giving up and just looking at Barbara.
"Hi! I'm Ellie - WOW ARE YOU JAZZ'S CLONE?".
-OR-
After learning that Danielle just travel around the world on her own, Dan's core re-develope his old obsession.
(protect her)
They travel across the world as Dan& Ellie - father and daughter.
Ellie wants to go to Gotham, (They have WEIRD THINGS) and they try getting a life there.
On an attempt to get something like normal (halfa?) life, Dan take Ellie to get her first library card.
Enter Barbara Gordon, a librarian extraordinary by day, and a vigilant named "Oracle" by night.
Somehow, she keep meeting that single dad (ex-prisoner) and his daughter.
(she CAN'T be introduced to Damian. The world may not survive it).
Or: I started thinking Dan/Barbara and now I can't unsee it.
Tag some I think would like this:
@stealingyourbones @im-only-here-for-the-fandom @hdgnj
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erinwantstowrite · 1 month ago
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Wait did Loki already know about Dick and Jason and all that because he did research /before/ Peter got sent there on not just he was there without telling Peter? And that's why he ended up in that universe specifically cuz he had family there? Or I did I misread something?
oh no Loki is fully lying out of his ass right now. but really he's not lying, it's more like he's not telling the full truth ? idk how much I can really tell you guys cuz I don't want to spoil it... alright, so i can't tell y'all what he was doing specifically but i can tell y'all his general plan and some character insight
i'm feeling in a slightly spoilery mood so!!! if you don't want to know anything about what Loki is up to, don't continue reading! but be aware that at this point in time, there are some things that we just won't know about Loki in the fic itself that i'll talk about here!
before all of this he had absolutely no intentions of teaming up with Peter, he was just exploiting a weakness and trying to get Peter out of the way (this is the same as to what he did with Thor). he knows that Tony would be distracted, and in their efforts to find Peter they would probably be stressed out and their forces would thin because finding usually involves splitting up. they would also have to deal with Mysterio and Ohnn (....and a secret third character 👀). it would give him plenty of opportunity to go in and try and pick them off one by one. except it's not working on the Avengers side. we'll get more to this later 😁
after his first meeting with Peter, Loki figured that Peter would probably be a good place to get some intel if he needed it, because Peter trusted him and was not aware about Loki and his past with the Avengers (or at least not fully aware). the more that he learned about the Bats and Peter's relation to them, as well as learning about Peter, the more he figured it wouldn't hurt to have Peter on his side. he thought that he could twist Peter into believing the Avengers weren't coming. his plans have been shifting around, meeting his needs since the beginning. he's been standing off to the side and pushing the characters around trying to figure out what they will and won't do, like he's observing a game and they have no idea he's moving pieces around when they weren't looking.
however this plan was going to take a lot more time... and Klarion summoning Thor ruined it completely. he had to speed up the process and make his offer quite literally months before he thought he would. so in a way, we can thank Klarion for derailing Loki's plot
Loki had no idea what would happen when he directed Ohnn and Mysterio towards Peter. he knew that Ohnn had been traveling between worlds for a couple of months, but he had no idea if Peter would even survive going to this other universe. he also had no idea about Peter's relation to the Bats until he started digging around for his new plan (Plan: Exploit Peter's Love for his Parents). the thing is, is that his plan would have failed no matter what, because Loki failed to see that Peter's adopted family cares deeply about him, and this bond means just as much as any blood ties he could have. his own insecurities about his standing within his own family got to him. when he was digging around in Peter's life he saw that Peter's foster experience had failed. and he might, maybe, just a little bit... feel bad that the family that was going to adopt Peter were killed because of what happened in the Battle of New York.
so: while he has been very intentionally manipulating Peter... he was thinking of Peter's best interest after a certain point. instead of him not caring what happened to him as long as he was out of the way, Loki did start preparing to make sure that Peter could stay in this world and that he would be taken care of. because i don't believe Loki is an evil person, and even now he's just a little silly. he might have been a little bit crazy with Thor, but to be fair, every other time Loki had a plan and he wasn't crazy enough, Thor came out of it. I feel like they have different standards than what we would as humans. because if you have a sibling then I feel like you'll understand me here... me and my brother used to fight a lot and while we never actually chased each other with knives, we did chase each other with other weapons (whatever wouldn't actually kill but was within our reach) and I think this is their version of that. like me and my brother are super close now but when we were kids we tried to kill each other a lot lmfao. so Thor will probably forgive Loki because that's his brother. (and I'm pretty sure that Loki was under some form of manipulation by Thanos during the Battle of Manhattan/New York??? correct me if I'm wrong, but if that's the case Peter would eventually see that Loki isn't an evil person.) Loki is very chaotic neutral in my eyes, leaning towards evil or good depending on the day. so he's gonna get his ass kicked for trying to take over the world, but like, that's just his enrichment... you gotta let him try every few months/once a year or you're not doing enough to entertain and care for your sneaky God Alien Guy
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reiderwriter · 1 year ago
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Can't Take My Eyes Off Of You🃏
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Chapter 1 of That's What You Get
Next Chapter
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader
Word count: 5.2k
Summary: After three weeks on a case in Vegas and a particularly draining phone call from your mother, you decide to take Reid up on his offer to show you the sights of Las Vegas. When you wake up the next morning, you realise one of those sights was a 24hour Wedding Parlor, and that you're now Mrs. Reid.
Warnings: Alcohol consumption, loss of memory, marriage (yeah that needs a warning), mommy issues, mentions of emotional abuse, implied sex scene, use of handcuffs in a sexual way, they theorize a possible creampie but I will neither confirm nor deny at this point, talk of contraception, no actual smut though, you guys are gonna have to wait for that. 18+ Minors DNI
A/N: The first chapter is here! Sorry for drawing you in with a silly little premise and then giving you mommy issues, I swear that after this chapter it's not bought up all that much. If you enjoy this chapter, you can sign up to the series taglist here, check out my masterlist and if you want leave a request! :D have fun reading!! ✨
Las Vegas, city of sin and entertainment capital of the world. Population approximately 600,000, home to the most famous casinos in the world, and unluckily for you, your latest unsub.
You’d been in Vegas for three weeks trying to hunt down this specific murderer, but now the case was all wrapped up and you could finally breathe, the weight of the stress you’d been carrying for almost a month now dissolving as you finally finished up the paperwork in the local precinct.
“Thank god that’s over. I cannot wait to be in bed with a good book and an empty head,” you groaned as you met the eyes of Penelope Garcia, your favorite tech analyst in the entire world and absolutely the only one you knew. She’d ended up having to join you on this case because some of the crime scenes just happened to be casinos that weren’t so happy sharing their data, but also didn’t want to be lumped with the warrant from the FBI. She’d been working between their offices and the precinct, and looked just as haggard as you felt.
“Oh, I feel you sister, this free travel experience thing is nice, but I would like to be back at my own perfect little desk hovel ASAP, thank you very much.” The two of you shared a small laugh, and then began collecting your stuff.
“Come on now, baby girl, you’re telling me that you don’t want to hit up the strip while we’re here? See the sights a little?”
“Sweet cheeks, I have been working from the most harrowing of surveillance units all week on that very strip. I have already seen the sights and they were not pretty, and definitely not worth using up my precious vacation time for.”
“Unfortunately Garcia, I don’t think you’ll be needing to use any of that vacation time to stay here,” Hotch announced as he walked in, and every member of your team snapped to attention to hear what he had to say. “I just got off the phone with Quantico, there’s a storm cloud moving in directly in our flight path and we haven’t been cleared for take off. They’re extending our stay by another day.”
“Shit,” you let out a silent curse, and noticed that your other team members didn’t seem all that happy about it either. JJ quickly excused herself from the room to call Will, Garcia let out a faux sob and fell back into her chair, and Rossi had the look of abject Italian disappointment on his face that he usually only got when you talked about your love of pineapple on pizza.
“How’s about that drink now, baby girl?” Derek Morgan teased, but it was half-hearted and you knew it. You were all desperate for bed, and you could only imagine the mistakes you would make if you went drinking now after the month you’d all just survived.
The only member of the team who didn’t seem put out quite yet was Reid, but you chalked that up to the fact that this place was his hometown.
“If you guys do change your mind, I know a bar downtown where you’re 34% less likely to be propositioned, robbed or over-charged.” He smiled over at you, and you couldn’t help but let out a giggle knowing the man was 100% serious.
“Dare I ask how you found that statistic, Reid?” Emily inquired from the other corner.
“One part actually reading the annual crime report, one part personal experience?” Reid replied, and you laughed again, unable to hold it back.
“Count me out, thank you,” you replied, and you could have sworn for a second you saw a flash of disappointment flash over his features, but you didn’t get the chance to question it, because a call was lighting up your phone screen.
You quickly excused yourself and moved to pick up the call from your mother.
“Mom, hey, what’s up?”
“What, I can’t check in on my daughter now for no reason?” you sighed and rubbed your temples, knowing exactly how this phone call was going to go, because it was how the last ten calls home had.
“Yes, mom, of course you can. How are you?”
“Terrible. Cindy’s daughter is getting married, and it’s all she’s talking about now. Can you believe it? The girl was absolutely wild when you were friends with her in high school and now she’s settling down with a lawyer of all people. Someone should warn that young man before he realises what he’s got himself into,” she scoffed on the other end of the line and you did your best to not get worked up. If you got angry it only made her more self-richeous.
“I know, Mom, Jessica sent me an invite, and I’m sure Trevor knows exactly what he’s getting into since they’ve been dating since high school.”
“Well, how was I supposed to know that? You never tell me anything.”
“I’m sorry, Mom, I’m in the middle of a case right now, can I call you back later?” You did your best to escape the conversation before it devolved into something you really didn’t want to talk about, like yourself, and more specifically your love life. But the gorgon had you frozen through the line and you weren’t about to make the mistake of hanging up on her.
“I’m sure your boss could spare you for five minutes, over-working you like he does. You haven’t had the time off to come and visit me since you got that fancy little job of yours, so you can do me this favor at least.”
“Sure, mom.” At times like this, you knew it was best to just let her talk and ride out the wave.
“And I’m sure you don’t even have time to date. Are you taking care of yourself, at least? Making sure you’re at least presentable, I hope? Its like I always say, you could meet your future husband in one of those precincts, you know. Get a big, strong man to take care of you.”
You had to resist the urge to throw your phone. You’d explained to your mother time and time again that you were perfectly content being the big, strong man for yourself, but there was absolutely no getting through to her. You received one of these phone calls everytime one of her friends or coworkers kids announced an engagement, got pregnant or bought a house, three things that she was desperate for you to do, as well. As soon as you saw the instagram post from Jessica you’d been counting down the days, almost thankful for your mothers lack of online presence.
“A crime scene isn’t exactly the most charming of meet cutes, Mom.”
“Well, then what about Virginia? There are some fine men working at the FBI surely. What about that one coworker of yours, what was his name?” Your heart-race increased for a moment, praying she wasn’t about to put a thought in your head that you wouldn’t be able to escape.
“Derek Morgan, was it? Now, that’s a fine young man.” This time you couldn’t stop the startled cry that came from your mouth. Sure, Morgan was an incredibly attractive man, but he’d joked around with you like a brother ever since you’d taken down your first unsub with the team. Your team was your family and your support system on the road, and they had your back on the case, so really, had your mother said anything, you’d have responded with incredulous guffawing. Hotch was like your dad, Rossi a fun Great-Uncle or something. You saw the sister’s you’d never had in JJ and Emily and of course Garcia was your best friend and you shared so many likes and dislikes that you regularly joked about being long-lost twins separated at birth. And Reid was Reid.
“Just give dating some thought, would you at least? The clock is ticking for you, you know.”
“Mom, I’m not even thirty yet. I’m in no rush.”
“That's what your Aunt Linda said, and look at her.” Your Aunt Linda was a perfectly content single woman in her late forties who had a high paying executive job, in NYC of all places, so yeah, you were in no rush at all.
“Listen, Mom, I’ve got to go, Hotch is calling me into the office to talk about some case files. I’ll speak to you later?”
“God, it’s like you don’t even want to talk to your mother for even five minutes. Go on, then, go do your big fancy job. Call me soon.”
“Yeah, Mom, I will.” And with that you finally hung up. Running a hand through your hair you paused for a breath for a second, closing your eyes and letting your hand just grip your hair for a second before releasing your breath for a second.
In the grand scheme of things, you knew that your mom wasn’t all that much to complain about. You and Emily had bonded over your respective mommy issues early in your time on the team, and you knew a lot of the other team members were either lacking some family member or the other, so you were just thankful that she was still around to annoy you, but god did she make it difficult sometimes.
Realising that any second, you’d have one profiler or the other come find you and ask you (with the best of intentions) what was wrong, you plastered a smile on your face and walked back into the office. You didn’t exactly want to relive that call anytime soon.
“Back so soon, Y/N? I thought that was your mom,” Morgan questioned you when you stepped back in.
“Yeah it was. One of my friends from highschool is getting married and you know how she loves to gossip.” You’d learnt early in the profession that you were in that the best way to hide something was to tell the truth about it for as long as you could, and then change the subject.
“Hey, Reid, you still up for a drink at that bar?” You looked hopefully at the man in the corner, and prayed noone would bring up your absolute change in attitude. “I was thinking a glass of wine or two after a successfully closed case couldn’t hurt, right?”
“Yeah, sure. You wanna head back to the hotel first and change, or do you want to go from here? Hotch said we’re free now until 2pm tomorrow.” You could see a questioning look from Morgan to your left, but you kept your vision focused on Reid, quietly thankful for the rest of the teams disinterest.
“Give me five to drop off my badge and gun in my room and freshen up a bit and we can be on our way. If this bar is bad though, Reid, you know I’m never letting you hear the end of it, right?”
“I ran the statistics, there’s only a 14% chance you’ll dislike it.”
“You know what’s scary is, I can’t even tell if you’re being sarcastic or not.”
–x–
Sarcasm or no, you had to admit, the bar he’d taken you to was pretty nice. It was a low-lit bar only a twenty minute taxi ride from your hotel and whilst it wasn’t exactly on the strip, it wasn’t so far out to be inconvenient. The best part about it was that it was lined with bookshelves, and each booth was blocked off by another, making it feel more like a library than a watering hole. You almost forgot you were in Vegas when you stepped in.
“Yeah, this is definitely a Spencer Reid place,” you said as you took the final swig of your wine, the glass you’d ordered on arrival having gone down easier than you’d expected.
“How so?” Spencer said as he returned to your table, carrying the replacement drinks he’d gone to order with him.
“Come on, Spencer. I’ve never seen the inside of your apartment but I’m sure it’s just this place with less furniture and more books.”
“Y/L/N, are you profiling me right now? Because that sounds pretty close to profiling?” Spencer teased and you rolled your eyes at him, grabbing your next drink from him and giving it a stir - the wine was good but at the price per glass you’d decided maybe cocktails were the thing for tonight.
“Besides, you did mention wanting to curl up with a book tonight, so I thought this bar was probably a good fit for you too.”
“Whose profiling who now, Doctor?” It was his turn to roll his eyes, and he took a sip of his drink. You knew he didn’t drink that often, but he seemed pretty open to the idea tonight, and you were absolutely glad for the company.
“Okay, I won’t profile if you don’t, but do you mind me asking you a question, Y/N?”
“Fire away,” you were playing with the stirrer in your cocktail, waiting for him to ask the question but he’d hesitated for a moment before speaking again, causing you to look up directly into his eyes.
“What’s going on with you and your mom? I don’t mean to pry and I didn’t overhear any of your call earlier or anything, but when you came in again you were all tense and you had that strained smile on your face. Then you suddenly changed your mind and decided we should get drinks so, I’m just guessing here, but you could probably do with talking about it, right?”
You let out a groan and let your head hang a bit. Yeah, you were starting to regret taking that role in the team of profilers. But at least Reid was sincere, and you knew his intentions were good. Of all the members of the team, you’d probably have described him as the safest. It was strange to think, considering all the comfort you found in your other friends, but there was just something so reassuring about Reid’s presence, the way most people overlooked him at first, how he could easily fall into his work and how you could see the cogs moving in his head as he made one genius leap to another that just made you think that everything was going to be okay if he was there.
So because it was him, you decided to talk.
“She’s just…She’s just a little much sometimes, you know?” He smiled back a knowing smile, but didn’t try to add anything and encouraged you to keep going.
“She’s been really persistent recently in bothering me about hitting some of lifes big milestones - marriage, kids, you know? And it always leaves me in a panic because though I’m pretty sure I want those things just yet, I don’t want the pressure of having them yet.” You swallowed the bile in your thoat and continued
“Everytime she says something, I feel bad that I don’t have them. And the way she talks about them its like they’re some kind of… of personal failure, that I’m not trying hard enough to catch a man or something, and I just wonder what if she’s right?” You start slow but you feel yourself gaining pace as you begin rambling, by the end you’re left wondering if Reid even caught any of that.
“I’m perfectly content living alone, but what if I’m secretly not, and I end up forty and alone and can’t even get a guy to look at me.”
“I can pretty confidently say that that’s not going to happen, Y/N.” Reid replied when you finally grabbed your drink ready to take another sip.
“How come?”
“You won’t have to put any effort into catching a man, Y/N.” Reid replied.
“You’re saying that because you’re my friend and you care about me Reid, of course you think that.”
“No, I’m saying that as an FBI Profiler that’s noticed the barman, the man on a date in the corner and the group of guys smoking outside the door eye you up since we’ve been here. And considering we’ve been doing paperwork all day, and the only change in your appearance since 8am this morning was the fresh coat of chapstick you put on while we were in the taxi, I’d think you hadn’t really put that much thought into what you look like right now.”
“You’re exaggerating,” and you really believe that, until you turn to look at the guy on the date and see him avert his gaze from you quickly, and you realise there might be something in what he’s saying.
“Okay, but that still doesn’t mean that I need or want to hear those things from my mother.”
“Y/N, take it from me, mother’s can be complicated.”
“God, I feel so stupid talking to you about something so trivial with my mom, I shouldn’t be doing that, we’re here to have fun.”
“Y/N, its okay. I can do the mommy issues talks, I’m perfectly qualified, but…” he trails off and grabs his drink for another sip and you find yourself hanging off his words begging for him to bring you more comfort and spoken caresses.
“But what, Reid?” you finally ask, as you realise he’s dragging this out on purpose to tease you a little.
“But how about a distraction instead? Have you ever been in a Las Vegas casino with a man that is banned from gambling in most of them?” He wiggled his eyebrows a little as he asked that and you giggled again, grateful for the reprieve from the serious talk.
“That doesn’t sound all that fun, Spencer.”
“Oh yeah, it’s not, but we could always use those vouchers we got as a token of appreciation earlier in the bars and drink some pretty fancy alcohol?”
“Spencer Reid, you are finally speaking my language.”
“I’m still speaking English Y/N, but if you wanted me to switch to russian or some other language, I could accommodate that depending on your linguistic preference.”
“It was a joke, Spence, now let’s get out of here.”
With that, he stood and dramatically offered you his hand like a gentleman, placing your hand in the crook of his elbow when you took it and guiding you swiftly out of the sweet bar. You were with Spencer, your safe friend, close work colleague and probably the least likely member of the BAU Team to get into trouble in a bar in Vegas. What’s the worst that could happen? You thought, as you took a final step out into the humid night air of Las Vegas.
–X–
The first thing you noticed in the morning was the pounding in your head, and it was pretty much the only thing you noticed for quite some time. When you managed to finally unglue your eyes, the second thing you noticed that this definitely wasn’t your room. The third thing you noticed was the gaping hole in your memories that explained how you possibly could’ve ended up wherever it was that you were. Or really any memories from the night before at all.
Letting out a quick groan you sit up in bed and take stock of your surroundings. Although the layout is different, you quickly recognise the interior matches the hotel you’ve been staying at, so you’re thankful that you’re at least somewhere relatively safe, and most likely in familiar company. The room looks to be neat on the whole, but there’s obvious signs of a drunken escapade strewn everwhere - two champagne flutes and a drained bottle, the contents of your purse spilt onto the chair in the corner, some random balloons in the corner you must have picked up somewhere in a drunken stupor, your clothes discarded in a trail to the bed.
That last one wakes you up a little bit more, and almost embarrassingly, you look down at yourself and see your lack of clothing, pulling the covers of the quilt closer to you as you feel yourself flush.
Fuck.
There’s a shifting in the bed next to you, and you look down in horror to see exactly which member of your team got you so plastered last night. You try to move to see who it is, but theres a tightness around your wrist and you’re pulled right back down into bed. You look down at your arm, and that’s when you realise you’re really screwed.
There, around your wrist and restraining you against the bed, is a set of handcuffs. FBI standard. The insinuation flames your face as you whip around to see which close friend and coworker you maybe - possibly - hooked up with last night, too embarrassed to look at your hand any more.
Luckily, your mystery man shifts again, and you catch sight of the nest of brown curls right before he turns over to see you, so when you finally meet the eye of Doctor Spencer Reid, you don’t scream in surprise.
“Y/N? What are you doi-” he cuts himself off as he lets his eyes trail down your body, quickly noticing your state of undress and pulling himself up into a seated position. He is similarly disrobed and it takes all of your strength to pull your gaze away from his bare chest to look literally anywhere else, your face practically flaming now.
“Spencer, would you mind helping me out over here?” you manage to squeak out quickly, as he does his best to avoid your eyes. “I seem to be a little stuck?”
That draws his attention back to you, and he finally notices the strange position of your arms and the handcuffs keeping you pinned to that spot in the bed.
“Shit, Y/N, I’m so sorry, fuck,” he quickly pulls on the pants he discarded by his side of the bed and scrambles over to you, tripping over once in his haste.
“Do you know where the key is?” you ask as he arrives at your side again, your free hand clutching the sheets over your breasts like your life depended on it.
“If that’s my pair they should be in the safe in the nightstand with my creds, give me a second to look.” After a second, he reaches the aforementioned safe box, pulling it open. He roots around inside it for a few seconds and then he spots something ad you watch the blood drain from his face.
“Spencer, what’s wrong?” you spit out quickly, tongue still heavy, and lips probably still swollen, from the night before, so you trip over the words a little. He pulls out the keys from the draw, and you let out a sigh of relief, but you’re still tense as he reaches back inside the draw and pulls out something else.
“Y/N, there wouldn’t happen to be a ring on that hand would there?” Spencer still isn’t looking at you, still staring intently at whatever else is in his hands. You try to angle your head to look, but between the restraints and the fact that Reid had turned his back to you couldn’t quite see what it was.
“What? No, I don’t wear a ring on this hand-” you cut yourself off abruptly as you look down and see it. There on the fourth finger of your left hand, the one that is still chained to the bed by your partners handcuffs, is a ring. There’s a ring on your ring finger. You just woke up in Las Vegas with no memory, in your coworkers room, naked, with a ring on your ring finger.
Your heart drops to your ass as you snap your head back around to Spencer, who finally works up the courage to look you in the eye.
“I think you should look at this” he stutters out and finally presents you with the other item he pulled out of the draw. Your jaw drops open and the pounding in your head turns into a continuous buzzing as you see yourself presented with a marriage liscence. Pinned to the corner with a paperclip is a polaroid picture, and you recognise yourself and your clothes from the night before, with the addition of a veil and bouquet, your arms slung around Reid’s neck as he pulls you in for what you can assume was a pretty passionate kiss.
“Y/N I think we got married last night.”
For a second you could’ve sworn your heart stopped. This was not happening, not to you, not right now. How stupidly drunk could you have gotten to have actually gone and married someone you weren’t even dating. And considering your current lack of clothing, it was dawning on you that you had probably done a little bit more than what was in that photo.
“Spencer unlock these handcuffs right now, so help me God,” you breathed deep and screwed your eyes shut, hoping that wihtout the distraction of the glaring lights you’d be able to remember some of what you’d done last night, but nothing came to you.
Reid, for what it was worth, got you unlocked quickly. You winced slightly as you pulled your arm away from the position it’d been in for however many hours.
“Sorry, I’m so sorry, I should have undone those last night, I don’t know why I didn’t, I’m usually pretty good at remembering stuff like that.” Reid rambled, running a hand through his hair and pacing slightly at your side of the bed. You pushed yourself up and watched him for a minute, just looking at this man who was now, probably, your husband.
Your husband.
You shook the thought from your head and cut his rambling off quickly.
“You put me in these?” you asked, just desperate for any clarification on any of the events of the last 24 hours, not fully grasping the implications of what you were asking until Reid was looking down at you with a flushed face and a mouth gaping like a fish, struggling to find the words to say.
“This is my hotel room. Those are my handcuffs… I kind of just assumed…” he trailed off the thought and you were right with him, the embarrassment heating your face just as much as it had his. You found it hard to meet his eyes the, and dropped yours to your lap.
“So you don’t remember, either?” You almost sighed in relief at that. If even a genius with an IQ of 187 and an eidetic memory was in this state after a night of drinking, then you really couldn’t be blamed for getting so drunk you married your coworker and most likely had some pretty kinky sex with him, remembering absolutely nothing on top of that at all.
“Do you need me to grab you something to wear?” he asked as he looked down at you, letting his gaze trail probably a little bit too low for a little bit too long. You grew heated under his stare, as your body reacted, and you realised how easy it must have been to fall underneath him last night if this was how you were feeling from just one look.
But you pulled yourself out of those thoughts quickly, and it seemed that so did he, as he began grabbing clothes from the floor and handing them to you, turning away as you started getting yourself into a semi-decent state.
“Shit, shit, shit, shit,” you heard Reid mumble to himself as he made his way around the side of the bed, and in your concern for him, you called out.
“Anything specific those curses were for, Spence? Because I know this isn’t exactly the most ideal situation, but four Spencer Reid swears in a row is a cause for concern.” You tried to joke, hoping to relieve some of the anxiety of your predicament.
“I can’t find…” he started and then dragged a hand over his face, trying to wipe the exhaustion from his eyes. “Y/N, I think we didn’t use protection.” You could see him panicking now, and for a second you thought of joining him too, but you crossed the room and grabbed his arms.
“Spencer, look at me, it’s fine. If we did end up… doing that, I’m on birth control, and we probably have time to grab something extra just to make sure, right?” he looked down at you then and after a moments hesitation, he wrapped his arms around you.
“I’m so sorry about all of this, I’m so stupid for suggesting we go to that casino bar last night, I don’t know what I was thinking. You even said last night that this wasn’t what you wanted for yourself, right now, god I’m an idiot, you don’t deserve this.” He buried his face in your neck and held you tight, and you pulled yours up to his back, rubbing circles into his skin slowly.
“Spencer, listen to me. I can think of noone I would have rather had a shotgun Vegas marriage with, okay? This isn’t your fault, we were both drunk, and I’m sure a Reid who was thinking straight could give me some kind of statistic about inhibitions dropping with a certain amount of alcohol.”
“A study in the United Kingdom found that there was an increase of risky sexual behavior in young people who had participated in binge drinking, including unprotected sex with a new partner and the use of emergency contraceptives and I’m not sure why I’m still talking when that was probably rhetorical, right?” You smiled at his panic, finding him just as endearing as ever, even in this predicament.
“What I’m saying, Spencer, is that we’re going to be okay. This isn’t the first time someone has gotten married in Vegas on a whim. Hell, this isn’t even the first time it’s happened to someone on our team. In a sense, this was a very traditional wedding.”
He groaned into your neck again and you laughed up at him. Sure, you were panicked still, but just having him in your arms there sharing his honest feelings with you instead of bottling it up and leaving you to deal with it on your own in your head too was doing you a world of good, and you found the words you used to reassure him soothing you, too, in turn.
“Here’s what we’re going to do. One, find the nearest pharmacy. Two, find whatever Elvis-inspired love shack wrote that marriage license and figure out if it’s actually legally binding. Three, avoid all of our coworkers until 2pm. How does that sound?”
Reid pulled himself out of your neck then, and you were almost sad at the loss of that warmth near you.
“It sounds like I made the smartest choice of a wife I was ever going to make,” he smiled down at you.
“Oh you got jokes now, Doc? I see.”
“Thought I should let you know all my deep dark secrets now we’re married.” You shared a laugh, and standing there amongst the debris of the night before, despite all the mistakes, you knew you were safe, and that the two of you would always be safe together.
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appocalipse · 1 year ago
Note
Congrats! How huge! Can I shop?! 🛍️
There's an antique lock and key set and a pair of velvet gloves that look like they have my name written all over them (or a smutty friends to lovers with Steve Harrington where maybe we're partners in a game - drinking game at a rager, yard game at a bbq, board game on a game night, chicken at the pool party...I'm not picky - and celebrating our winning streak gets...a little out of hand 😉😉)
thank you, angel ♥ i got more than a little carried away with this one lol 6.4k words | cw: fingering, oral sex, unprotected sex 18+ only! mdni! literally the smuttiest smut that ever smutted
amy's flea market ♥
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"Ready?" Steve asks.
No. Fuck, no.
“Yeah,” you respond. Steve smiles that almost evil smile of his and dives down so you can climb onto his shoulders. Again. You can't believe you're doing this again.
It's the third round of chicken fighting that you and Steve are participating in, and as you climb onto Steve's shoulders, you try not to think that you're climbing onto Steve's shoulders.
Steve. Your friend Steve. The guy you have the world's biggest crush on...no, fuck that. It's more. You know it's more, but you're afraid to admit the stronger word.
Because Steve is Steve. He's off limits.
Which doesn't make it any easier for you to try not to think about the way his big, warm hands are now on your thighs, holding on tight so you don't fall off his shoulders, where you're sitting in nothing but a bikini, his head between your legs...
"1, 2,3...go!" Robin yells, sitting on the edge of the pool with her feet in the water. You raise your arms as the team in front of you advances, the girl's arms stretched in hopes of pushing you off Steve.
But you and Steve are, apparently, invincible today.
It happens faster this time; next thing you know, the girl's grip slips, and you are the one who ends up pushing her into the water, her partner also losing his balance in the process. They laugh and the crowd — including Robin — goes wild. The adrenaline surges through your veins as you realize you've won. Again. Steve keeps you up there for one more moment, just so you can throw your arms in the air, giggling, enjoying your third victory in a row. Then, he carefully lowers you down into the water. 
When he emerges again, wet hair sticking to his forehead, he's grinning at you as he grabs your wrist, making you raise your arm one more for the crowd.
You giggle.
Steve sighs. It's that laugh of yours, the one that makes his heart skip a beat every time. 
"I think that's enough for today," you say, lowering your arm and grinning up at him, a bit dizzy from the adrenaline of the victory and the heat of the sun on your skin. 
Steve suddenly feels dizzy too, for a completely different reason.
He unsuspectingly watches as a fat drop of water travels down your lower lip, to your chin, your neck... and then you turn around, moving in the direction of the pool ladder. Against his better judgment, he follows.
Once out of the pool, you look around. 
"D'you want me to grab a clean towel for you?" Steve offers, ever the gentleman.
"Towel, yeah, that would be great..." you murmur, feeling ten times more self-conscious now that the two of you are out of the water. You don't even know most of the people here… "Can I come with you?"
Steve coughs.
The pool party had started earlier that day. The only clean towels remaining in that house now are in his bathroom. 
In his room.
And you're all wet.
For God's sake. That's the last place where he should be alone with you right now. 
But, like an idiot, Steve nods, "Sure, let's go." 
He leads you through the living room, past a group of people who are sitting on the floor, drinking and laughing, to the stairs, taking them two at a time. You're a little out of breath, but manage to keep up with his long strides until he reaches the top. The hallway up here is a lot dimmer, but you can still see the soft, warm sunlight coming from beneath his bedroom door. It's strange how you've never been in his room before. Countless times in his house, sure, but never his room.
Steve clears his throat and then opens the door, stepping aside to let you enter first. 
It's... not what you expected. It's not messy like the stereotypical rich boy's room, but it's not pristine either. It's neat, orderly, but... lived in. There's a king-sized bed in the center of the room, covered with a duvet that looks like it's been slept in. A small nightstand on each side of the bed, with a lamp and a few framed photos on top — you're even in some of them with him and the kids. The walls are painted a soft, warm blue, and there's a big window next to the bed, letting in the bright sunlight.
The air smells like... like him. Like soap and hairspray.
Steve clears his throat, drawing your attention back to him. He's still shirtless, so it's not like that's hard to do. "Here, take this," he says, tossing a towel in your direction. You catch it reflexively, feeling the softness of the fabric against your bare skin.
"Thanks," you murmur, rubbing your hair with it. 
The sound of laughter from downstairs seeps in through the partly open window. Steve is standing on the other side of the room, a towel loosely draped around his neck, and maybe it's that mysterious drink Robin offered you earlier making you imagine things, but there's a strange tension in the air and you're under the distinct impression that Steve is consciously avoiding you as you dry off.
You wonder what he's thinking. 
Steve clears his throat again, seeming to steel himself for something. "Um... I'm gonna go grab a drink. You... you want one?" he asks, not quite meeting your eye.
"Sure. And...can you get my dress? I left it downstairs earlier."
Steve nods, turning away from you so fast you almost wonder if he's mad. He disappears into the hallway, and you hear the click of the door being closed behind him, followed by the distant sound of footsteps as he makes his way downstairs.
Left alone in his room, you wander over to the bed and sit down on the edge, now wrapped in your towel. The duvet is soft against your bare skin, and the pillows smell like him. You can't help but wonder what it would be like to curl up here with him, to feel his warmth surround you as you drift off to sleep.
Probably not the kind of thought you should have in your friend's room.
The door opens again, and Steve steps back in, two glasses of something clear and fizzy in his hand. "Here you go," he says, handing you one of them. You take the drink gratefully, sniffing at it before taking a sip. It's some kind of spritzer, sweet and tangy. "And here's your dress."
It's draped over the curve of his arm. Steve sets his own drink on the nightstand before sitting down on the bed beside you, extending his arm so you could take the dress.
You do take it, but make no move to put it on. "I didn't know you were that good at chicken fighting," you say, trying to make it sound light-hearted.
Steve smiles. "Pretty sure it was all you."
"Of course not," you playfully nudge him. "We're a team."
He looks at you for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, he reaches for his drink and takes a generous sip. "Yeah, a team," he repeats softly.
"What?"
"Nothing."
He studies you for a moment, taking another sip of his drink. The silence stretches between you. You wish you knew what was going through his mind, if he was feeling the same things you were.
"It is something," you quietly insist.
Steve looks at you, his eyes flickering uncertainly. "I don't know what you mean," he says finally, but there's a catch in his voice that betrays him, a hint of vulnerability that you've never heard before.
You stand up. He looks at you like you had just slapped him. 
"I'm still wet," you explain. Then, way too quickly for your embarrassment to go unnoticed, you add, "from the pool, I mean! Not...I don't want to make a mess of your bed or anything, you know...I mean, by sitting there while I'm wearing a wet bikini and-"
Steve cuts you off with a laugh. "Hey, hey," he says, reaching out to take your hand. "It's okay. You're fine. You can sit here." He squeezes your hand gently, and there's a warmth in his touch that sends a shiver through you. "And if you did make a mess, I'd clean it up. No worries."
You sit down again. Better than awkwardly standing there. 
"Very gentlemanly of you," you murmur, a small smile tugging at your lips.
Steve shrugs, returning your smile. "I'm not that bad, am I?" he asks, his voice teasing.
"The worst. But you're a good partner in chicken fighting, though."
Steve swallows hard.
"Just that?"
There is a moment of silence, as you and Steve stare at each other. You know exactly what he means, what's behind that question, behind the look he's giving you right now, studying your face like it's the first time he's seeing it. At least...you think you know. 
He puts his glass aside again. You open your mouth to say something, but he's faster.
"I need to go."
"Wait-"
He doesn't wait. Steve is on his feet in a second, almost at the door in two. 
But you, somehow supernaturally faster…you grab his wrist. You grab his wrist with both hands and oh God, Steve's not quite sure what to do with you now. He doesn't respond, doesn't move. You tug at his arm, wanting him to turn around, look at you. He doesn't.
"Steve."
His name feels like a whisper on your lips. It's not loud, but it's urgent. 
Steve is having a hard time remembering why he's supposed to keep his distance from you. He turns around to look at you, your hand slipping down to his, still not letting him go…and he realizes it was a bad idea.
The desperation in your eyes mirrors his own, and before he knows what he's doing, Steve is leaning in, hands grabbing your face, mouth finding yours, lips parting. 
He's not gentle, not soft. 
You moan into the kiss and Steve kicks the door closed without looking, his hands finding your waist as you cling to his neck, the towel falling at your feet. Your lips part and he slips inside, tasting you, feeling the warmth of your breath on his skin as you gasp, stumbling back as he pushes forward.
The bed is soft but cold beneath you as you land, Steve on top of you, pinning you down."God," he groans into your neck. "Sorry."
You giggle. "God, sorry?"
He groans in reply, lips moving against your neck as he continues to kiss his way down your collarbone. "I mean it," he whispers, his voice hoarse with desire. "I shouldn't be doing this."
"M' not...complaining."
Steve laughs roughly into your skin, pressing his lips to the dip between your breasts and finally looking up into your eyes. He pauses for a moment, searching for something there. You can see the uncertainty in his expression, the fear of losing control, of what will happen if he really lets go.
"Do you want me to stop?"
"No," you say automatically.
He chuckles at your answer, a soft, low sound that vibrates through your chest. "You're sure?" he whispers, leaning in to kiss you again, this time softer, slower. "Because I don't want to hurt you. I don't want to take advantage of you."
"How could you possibly take advantage of me?" you ask, sounding almost annoyed.
Steve smiles. "I don't know. I just..." He trails off, pressing a quick kiss to your chin. "I just want this to be right."
You can feel his hesitation, his worry, but you don't want to push him away. You reach up, gently cupping his cheek, and look into his eyes. "I want to."
"You want to?"
"Yes."
There's a moment where the weight of what you've just said seems to press down on Steve, making him pause. He looks into your eyes, searching for any sign of doubt or fear, but finds only the truth. He exhales shakily, looking like it takes every ounce of his self-control to do so. "Tell me you're not drunk."
You reach up, tracing his jawline with your fingers. "I'm not drunk."
"Fuck..." he mutters, trying to concentrate as you trail your fingers down his neck, over his collarbone. "Really? Don't lie to me."
You smile, shaking your head in disbelief. "I'm not drunk," you repeat. "I had like…two drinks. Are you drunk?"
Steve laughs, a choked-up sound. "I've had more than that," he admits. "But I'm…I'm okay." He looks at you for a long moment, like he's trying to commit your face to memory, just in case. Then he leans in, kissing you softly, his lips moving against yours with a tenderness that belies his earlier urgency. "But even if I were drunk, you're welcome to take advantage of me anytime."
You smile against his lips, wrapping your arms around his neck. "I'll keep that in mind," you whisper, feeling a rush of affection for him. Steve groans into the kiss, pressing your back against the mattress as his hips move between your legs. His skin feels hot against yours, his muscles tense, and with nothing but the thin fabric of your bikini bottom and his swim trunks between you, there's little left for the imagination.
"Steve," you breathe out as he kisses his way down your neck, nipping at your skin with his teeth. His name feels heavy in your mouth, like you've been holding it there for years and it's finally been given the chance to be spoken. "Steve…"
"You keep saying my name like that and I'm going to lose it."
You feel the wet heat of his mouth as he kisses his way back down your neck, over your collarbone. His fingers are patient, too patient as they trail up your sides, over your ribs, stopping just shy of your breasts like he's afraid he'll go too far, too fast, too soon.
"Can I-"
"Yes."
His laughter is soft as he pulls back to look at you, eyes half-lidded and mouth slightly parted. He brushes a strand of wet hair away from your face, tracing the line of your jaw with his thumb. "You don't even know what I was going to say."
"What were you going to say?"
He smiles, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. "Something about wanting you. About how I can't believe I'm finally here with you." His fingers drift lower, tracing the curve of your neck before one hooks playfully under the delicate string of your bikini top. "I was going to ask if I could touch you."
You nod, feeling the anticipation building inside you. "Yes," you breathe, arching into his touch. "Please."
His smile is slow, almost wicked. He lets go of the string and instead cups your breast, thumb tracing the hardening peak of your nipple through the thin fabric of your top. Your back arches further, and a soft moan escapes your lips as his fingers find purchase and squeeze. He pulls back slightly, watching as you close your eyes, your chest rising and falling rapidly. "Is this okay?" he whispers, tracing a circle around your nipple with his finger.
"Yes," you manage to choke out.
Steve hums in understanding, his touch growing more confident as he cups your breast in his hand, squeezing gently before circling your nipple with his thumb. The sensation is almost too much, making your hips twitch against his as you arch further into the touch. 
He wonders for a moment if he should take it further, if he should untie the knot and push the bikini top down, revealing your breasts to his touch...would you be okay with that? Or should he keep going, teasing you until you beg? His eyes flicker down to your lips, watching as they part slightly with each shallow breath, how your tongue darts out to wet them. 
You're so beautiful, he thinks, almost dizzy from the sight of you.
He can feel the warmth between his legs, the insistent pressure as his cock strains against the fabric of his trunks. You'll be the death of him, he's certain. He's already so fucking hard and you're not even naked yet.
He leans in, lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "Can I?" 
He kisses your neck, your collarbone, your shoulder. And then his fingers slide lower, tracing the line of your stomach, pausing at your navel… 
"Can I touch you here?"
The feel of his fingers tracing the line of your stomach, so close to where you ache for him to touch, is almost too much to bear. You chuckle as you arch your back, offering him more of your skin, more of yourself, then grabbing his wrist when he doesn't seem convinced, guiding his hand lower. 
"Please," grinning, you run your fingers through his hair with your free hand, feeling the dampness there as it clings to the strands, "stop asking."
He smiles against your skin, his fingers finding the soft, warm skin of your inner thigh, tracing up and down, so close to where you're aching for him. "You're sure?" he whispers, his voice low and teasing. "You're sure you want this?"
"Steve Harrington, you-"
But you can't even finish the sentence before he's kissing you, his mouth warm and wet and demanding as his fingers finally slip between your legs, sliding beneath the thin scrap of fabric and you gasp into his mouth, arching into his touch, forgetting whatever insult you were going to say.
You feel the rough pad of his index finger against your clit, and then he's pressing, circling, teasing.
"Fuck."
"You're so wet," he breathes, watching your face. "So fucking wet for me, honey, God," His fingers move faster, his touch more demanding as he presses deeper, finding your entrance and circling, circling, wanting to push inside. 
You grip the back of his head, your other hand clutching at the duvet beneath you, your hips arching off the bed as his fingers move in a blissful, insistent rhythm. It's been so long since anyone has touched you like this, since you've felt this kind of need and desire, but this…this is even better than you could have imagined. This is Steve, your Steve.
"I want you inside me," you pant before you can think twice about it, your words breathless and urgent. "Please."
Steve hums, his fingers still working their magic as he leans forward, kissing your neck, your shoulder, your collarbone. "I want that too," he whispers, and then he's pushing the bikini bottoms aside, throwing them across the room, revealing your wet, aching folds to his gaze, moving to trail wet, open-mouthed kisses down your stomach, over your hip, and finally to the juncture of your thighs. 
Shit. He parts your legs with his shoulders, bending his knees to kneel between them. "Let me make you come first."
With...his mouth?
You prop yourself up on your elbows to look at his face, more than a little self-conscious now. "Wait, but you...you're gonna...?"
He wraps his arms around your hips, holding you still as he leans in, his breath warm against your exposed skin. Curiously, he asks, "You don't want me to?"
You shake your head; no, of course you do. But the idea of him going down on you...it's so intimate. So much more than just having sex. "I just..."
He looks up at you, and there's something in his eyes that makes you forget whatever you were about to say. Something that makes you feel safe and wanted and desired. "You just...?" he whispers, his lips brushing against the soft skin of your inner thigh.
It's hard to concentrate when he does that. You squirm a little, but his hold on you is surprisingly firm.
"I just..." You close your eyes, taking a deep breath. "I just haven't had anyone do that for me in a really long time." It's true; the last time you can remember was with a boyfriend years ago, and even then it was more of a "be polite" thing than anything else. But with Steve...it feels different. "Do you *really* want to? Because you don't have to if-"
You feel him smile against your skin as he continues to gently kiss his way up your thigh. "I want to," he whispers, and the way he says it, the sincerity in his voice, makes you believe him. "I really want to. But, um…only if you want it too."
You open your eyes, watching as he looks up at you, waiting for your answer. He looks so hopeful, so eager. If he wants this, if he wants to make you feel this good...how can you say no?
With a shaky breath, you nod, your fingers threading through his hair. "Okay," you whisper. "Okay."
Steve hums in satisfaction. You feel a shiver run down your spine as he slowly pulls your legs wider apart, resting his elbows on the bed as he leans in closer, his hot breath fanning across your folds. His hands grip your hips, holding you steady as he gazes up at you, watching your reaction, almost daring you to tell him to stop. 
You watch, mesmerized, as he tilts his head, licking his lips before he leans in, pressing a gentle, open-mouthed kiss to the very center of you. 
Boy... does he know what he's doing.
Your eyes flutter shut as he begins to lick and suck, his tongue dancing over your most sensitive skin, his fingers curling into the flesh of your hips, urging you to arch into his touch. You gasp, feeling your whole body tense, your hands tangled in his hair, your nails almost digging into his scalp. He moans, his breath hot against you, and you realize he's watching your reactions, taking cues from your body. 
"Good?" he asks, as if you're not already on the verge of coming. 
But you can't answer, can't form a coherent thought, let alone a word. So you nod.  Frantically so, head thumping against the mattress. He smiles against your skin like he's won some sort of prize, and then you feel the slip of his fingers, two of them easily sliding inside you, tight but wet enough to be ready. You cry out, his name a desperate plea falling off your lips as he thrusts his fingers deeper, curling them up to find just the right spot. 
"Oh, God..." you moan, your hips bucking up against his hand. "Steve..." Your fingernails dig into the duvet, your back arching as he expertly works his fingers inside you.
Steve seems to sense that you're getting close, the way your hips are moving erratically against his hand, the way your breath is coming in short, ragged gasps. He looks up at you for a moment as if to gauge your reaction, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. He keeps his fingers exactly where they are while he leans up over your body to kiss you, propping himself up on one elbow.
"You taste so good," his voice is a whisper against your lips as they part beneath his. "So wet. God, I want to feel you around me." 
"Yes, please."
Your enthusiasm makes Steve grin against your lips. "Please?" he muses. He's hard, of course he is hard in his swim trunks, cock straining against the fabric as it leans against your thigh. But he doesn't want to rush this. Not with you.
"Steve," you admonish, sliding your hands up his arms.
His fingers are still moving, but more slowly now, less urgent. It's almost as if he's teasing you, drawing this out. Your hips rock up against his hand, and you feel a surge of wetness between your legs as you arch your back, seeking more contact. His lips find yours again, tongue sliding against yours as he thrusts his fingers deeper, curling them to hit just the right spot. You moan into the kiss, your body trembling as the pleasure builds, your fingers tangled in his hair.
"Oh God," you say in a shaky voice. "Steve, please..."
He groans against your lips, curling his fingers deeper inside you, searching. "Please what?" he whispers as he kisses along your jaw, teasing, not mean, never mean, but drawing it out just a little bit more.
In lieu of an answer, you find yourself arching your back in a desperate manner. His fingers brush against something deep inside you, something that has you gasping and tightening around him, close too close. His fingers find the rhythm you've been craving, your orgasm building, building, building.
"That's it," he whispers against your neck, his own breath hot and uneven. "That's it, baby."
And you do. It's unlike anything you've ever felt before, a rush of pleasure so intense it makes your vision blur, your skin warm all over. 
Steve, watching your expression as you come apart beneath his touch, feels the warmth of your release coat his fingers, the tightness of your body around them. God. It's a heady sensation, knowing that he can make you feel this way.
His fingers are slick with your wetness as he pulls them free and gently pushes you back onto the bed. You're lying flat on your back again, and he's grinning as he looks down at you like you're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.
"You're...very good at this," your voice is a breathy whisper as you glance up at him, a flush rising in your cheeks. You chuckle, wrapping your arms around his neck, bringing him down for a gentle kiss. Steve's skin is warm beneath your fingertips, his kiss featherlight soft against your lips. "Do you want-"
"Yes," he cuts you off with a husky laugh, leaning down to nip at your neck. "If you do," His hand finds the string of your bikini top, finger following along it all the way up to the bow. With a practiced flick, he undoes it but doesn't yet pull the fabric away, watching your eyes as he lets the knot slide free, half expecting you to tell him to stop. You don't, though. You watch him, your chest rising and falling with every breath, and something in his chest aches at the sight.
"You can take it off," you reassure, feeling a blush creep up your neck. "It's just me." 
You hope that comes across as playful and confident, but maybe you don't seem so convincing when you're still a little breathless, a little sensitive, so you decide to take matters into your own hands and reach up, fingers shaking only a little, to pull the cups of your bikini top down and away from your chest. 
Steve watches you, his expression somewhere between adoration and awe as you reveal yourself to him like a fucking gift unwrapped. 
"You're unreal," he breathes. "You're so..."
When he reaches out to touch, just the very tips of his fingers brushing against the sensitive flesh, you try to encourage him by arching into the contact.
"So fucking beautiful," he whispers, leaning down to kiss your collarbone. "I can't get enough of you." 
His hands slide down your sides, over the smooth skin of your hips, and then lower still, cupping your ass. He pulls you closer, pressing your body against his, slowly grinding against you. "Do you want..." he tries, an urgent edge creeping into his voice. "Do you want me inside you?"
Steve looks like he's about to explode at the mere suggestion, his expression a mixture of raw desire and aching need. You're about to reply when he nips at your neck, his teeth grazing the skin there. You momentarily lose your words.
"You're killing me," he half groans, half laughs, his hips moving harder against yours as he pushes himself as close to you as he possibly can. You can feel him through the thin fabric of his swim trunks, hard and insistent, and you're sure it wouldn't take much more of this teasing before he loses control completely. "Just say the word," he whispers, kissing along the line of your jaw, "and I'll give you anything you want."
"Can I...can I touch you?"
You feel Steve stiffen at your request at first, his body tensing beneath your fingers. "Of course you can," he breathes, a shudder working its way through him. "You can do whatever you want, baby."
You reach down, fingers shaky in your eagerness to please. You grasp the hem of his trunk and tug gently, almost hesitant, but he's already cooperating, kicking them off and letting them fall to the floor without so much as a second thought.
"Oh,"  you breathe, eyes widening as you take in the sight of him, naked and perfect in front of you. Steve's cock is already hard, a bead of pre-cum glistening at the tip, and you can't help but reach out and touch it, tentatively at first, but then more confidently, wrapping your fingers around the base of him and waiting to gauge his reaction.
"Oh, fuck," he moans, closing his eyes as you stroke him. "That feels...that's so good."
Your fingers feel warm and soft around him, and with each gentle stroke, he feels himself growing harder and harder, unable to contain the pleasure building inside of him. He opens his eyes to look down at you, watching your expression as you touch him, your focus solely on the way your fingers slide up and down his length.
Before you can get too carried away, though, Steve's hands are grabbing yours, guiding them away from his cock rather urgently. "If you want me inside you," he pants, a strained smile tugging at his lips, "you're going to have to stop that." His voice is a little shaky, a little rough, and you can tell he's struggling to keep himself in check.
You grin up at him. "I...do want that."
Steve's answering smile is a little more confident now, and he leans forward, brushing the pad of his index finger across your lips, tracing the shape of your bottom lip as he does so. "I think you've had enough teasing today," he whispers, hand moving to cup your neck, his thumb rubbing gently over your pulse point. "You really want this?"
"Yes," you breathe, unable to keep the word from slipping past your lips. "Yeah, I do."
Steve's thumb continues to trace circles around your pulse point as he leans in, pressing his lips against yours. His kiss starts gentle, a mere brush of his mouth against yours, "Yeah? Can I?" sliding his hand down your stomach, between your legs, he adds, "Fuck, yeah, you're...you're wet enough."
You gasp into his kiss as he brushes his fingers against you. "Yeah," you moan, arching your hips up into his touch, with a grin, "Yeah, I am, I...you're gonna make me beg or something, huh?"
"I'd never make you beg for anything, sweetheart."
His fingers move in a slow circle, spreading your wetness around your entrance, making sure you're as ready for him as you can be.
You reach up, wrapping your arms around his neck. You pull him closer as he begins to shift between your legs, his hand coming back up to gently guide himself towards your entrance, and then he looks down at you, searching your eyes for some sign, some reassurance, before he's pushing inside, slowly, gently, taking his time to ease his way into you. 
You gasp at the feeling of being stretched, filled, but at the same time it's perfect, it's...right.
He leans forward, bracing himself on his arms, and watches as you arch your back, your lips parted in a silent moan. "More?" he whispers, his voice a rough rasp. "Should I...?"
"More," you breathe, meeting his eyes.
And Steve gives it to you. He slides deeper, pushing in farther, stretching you just enough to make you feel so full of him. You're tight and he's impatient, but he makes sure he doesn't rush, doesn't force it. You feel the muscles in his back and arms tensing as he fights against the urge to go harder, how much he wants to lose control and just fuck you into the mattress.
He takes you like he's been dreaming of it for years, like he's never going to get the chance to feel you like this again. Slowly.
"Steve," his name rolls off your tongue like a sigh the moment he's all the way inside you, your muscles clenching around him in an attempt to hold him close. 
He tries to remember how to breathe, pressing his lips to your shoulder. He feels you squeeze around him and muffles a sound between a moan and a growl against your skin, "Can I move?"
"Yes, I...yes."
He pulls back slightly, just enough to adjust his angle, and then pushes back inside you. The sensation is almost too much, the way your body seems to fit so perfectly around him, the way your muscles clench and release, drawing him deeper still. Fuck. You're so wet that he can feel himself sliding easily in and out of you. The sounds of your skin slapping against his is a perfect counterpoint to the gasping, keening noises you're making into his shoulder.
He knows he won't last half as much as he'd like if you keep that up.
"God, that's it," he growls, the words lost in the movement of his hips against yours. "Tell me how it feels, sweetheart." One of his hands slides down between your bodies, cupping your aching clit, rubbing in a tight circle as he thrusts into you. The sensation is overwhelming, too much and not nearly enough all at once.
Your legs twist, one hooking behind his back for leverage, and you arch into his touch, your nails digging into his shoulders as you feel the tension building, the familiar tightness coiling in your core. "So good," you moan, thrusting your hips up to meet his, wanting more of that friction, more of his skin against yours. "Can you go...faster, please?"
He's lost to the sensation of your body moving against his, the feel of you slick and hot and tight. He's close, so close, but he doesn't want this to be over yet. He pulls back slightly, only to slam back in harder, the head of his cock hitting the spot inside you that makes you arch your back and gasp.
His hand moves faster on your clit, circling and pressing, and you're so close now, so close, you can feel it building, making you shiver and writhe underneath him. Steve leans down, lips finding the skin of your neck, sucking and nipping as he thrusts harder, deeper, faster.
"Yes," you moan, arching into his touch, your nails digging into his shoulders. "Fuck, yes."
Steve lets his hand move from between your legs to the back of your knee, hooking it there, holding you open to him as his cock slides in and out of you with a harsh, wet sound. You feel so full of him, stretched and sore and aching in the best way possible. 
He's so close now, the tension in his body almost painful as he fights against the urge to come before you do. Steve watches your face as you writhe beneath him, lips parted and flushed, eyes glazed over in pleasure  like you can't quite focus. It's the most erotic thing he's ever seen. He doesn't want this to end. Being inside you like this, feeling the way you move against him...he doesn't think he'll ever get enough.
Your nails scrape down his back, leaving little red lines in their wake. Steve thinks he's going to lose it every time you do that.
"Fuck," he groans, the word caught in his throat as he thrusts harder into you. The sounds of your skin slapping against his makes it almost unbearable and he has to think of something else, anything else, to keep from coming. "Feels good, sweetheart?" he whispers, his hand moving between your legs again, this time finding your clit and rubbing in a steady, circular motion.
You arch into his touch, your hips moving in time with his thrusts. "So close," you moan, your voice shaking. "I...I..."
Steve feels the tension building inside you, knows that you're close. He watches your face, the way your eyes have almost rolled back in your head, the way your lips are parted and your breath coming in quick, shallow gasps. 
He leans down, taking one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking and teasing as pushes inside to the hilt, holding you there, feeling your body trembling beneath him. You cry out then, your back arching off the bed, and Steve feels you tighten and pulse around him, gripping him like a fist as you come. 
The sensation is almost too much, but he somehow manages to ask, "Can I come inside you?"
You nod, your eyes closed tightly, and he thrusts once, twice…then one last time, feeling himself spill inside you as he moans, body tensing and then relaxing, spent. 
Steve collapses on top of you without pulling out, sweaty bodies sticking together. He somehow finds the energy to kiss your shoulder, your neck, your ear, nibbling and sucking until you laugh, shifting beneath him.
"You're heavy," you tease, but you don't really mind. It feels right to have him pressed against you like this, his heart thumping against yours, his breath warm on your skin.
He chuckles, nuzzling deeper into the crook of your neck. "Sorry," he mumbles, before pulling himself up enough to look down at you. You're beautiful, even with your hair tangled and your lips swollen from his kisses. "Do you want to get cleaned up?" he asks, running a hand through his sweaty hair.
"I think I love you."
The words tumble out of your mouth before you can stop them, and for a moment, you're not sure if you should take them back. But then Steve's eyes widen, his lips part in surprise, and you know it's too late. You've said it.
"Sorry, I shouldn't...I mean, I-"
Steve cups your face in his hands, his eyes wide and serious. "I love you too," he says, his voice a little unsteady. "I have for a long time." 
He leans in, pressing his lips to yours gently, then more firmly, as if he's making sure this is real, that you feel it too. 
But you feel it too.
God, you feel it too.
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air--so--sweet · 7 months ago
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So, Aidan Gallagher was the last cast member to wrap on season 4, and he wrapped several days after everyone else which I've been presuming means we're getting some apocalypse flashbacks but I've just had another idea.
We see Lila and Five travelling to what looks like the original apocalypse, what if they see young Five in the apocalypse? I think it could be really interesting as I don't think any of the other characters fully appreciate what he went through (well, Luther appreciates what it feels like to live in total solitude). Especially when he came back looking exactly like he did when he ran away, but with an adult consciousness instead of a teenage one. It makes it very easy to forget he got stranded and had to learn how to survive in an apocalyptic wasteland as a literal child. While grieving everyone and everything he has ever known.
And I think for Lila to be the character to witness that, as someone who has quite an antagonistic, but also incredibly loving relationship with Five (I was going to say though neither would admit it, but actually I feel both of them had dropped almost all pretense of hating each other at the end of season 3. I don't know if either would verbally express love for each other but in the same way I don't know if either would verbally express love for anyone) would be incredibly affecting. Especially as, unlike his siblings, she never knew teenage Five, she has always known him as an adult who looks like a teenager. I feel like for Lila to witness firsthand the brutality Five experienced alone in the apocalypse, and to realise he was really just a child, especially now that she has a child herself...well I think it would be truly upsetting for her but also giver he a deeper understanding of Five and just how important his family is to him (and family is what Lila desires and values most in the world too).
But also, it will make her realise how similar Five's experience was to her own. Because both were caused to suffer at a young age by the Handler, Lila by having her parents murdered, Five by being left in the apocalypse for 45 years when she could have plucked him out at any point, and then exploited for her own gains with little to no care given to how it sould affect them. Five says The Handler made it so he couldn't belong anywhere, that she made him a killer; she more or less did the same thing to Lila.
Most theories I write are just 'Oh this would be cool if it happened' or 'Look at this ridiculous idea I had', but, now I've imagined it, I'll be really disappointed if we don't see Lila and Five witness younger Five in the apocalypse. Damn...
Also, while writing this it occurred to me that, if the scene where Lila is crying is in the subway, which is looks like it is, maybe she isn't crying because something happened her daughter or Diego (as most of us presumed), maybe it's related to her seeing something The Handler did in another timeline. Or maybe it's just the emotional impact of seeing The Handler in the flesh again, knowing Lila loved her and saw her as her mother, and The Handler was happy to murder Lila in cold blood when she realised she couldn't manipulate her anymore. That's bound to fuck you up. (To be be clear, because I think how I phrased this suggests we'll definitely see The Handler again, I have no idea if we will or won't but with the hopping of timelines it's a possibility.)
Or maybe Lila sees what The Handler took from her, what life would have been like if she grew up with her parents. Or again, the effect of just getting to see her parents alive and in the flesh. A train always stops in the same places, it can't just change course or route like any other vehicle. Maybe the subway allows you to move between timelines/time travel but only as an observer. You can't change or effect any events and therefore can't interact with anyone as a result. Imagine the pain of seeing your parents you thought you'd never see alive again and not bring able to interact with them in any way. Or maybe she has to witness their murder again knowing she can't do anything to stop it. It would be a really interesting parallel from their relationship in season 2 to have Five comforting Lila over the death of her parents.
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