#it was A Day today and i'm still fuming | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

certifiedcodbabygirl · 7 months ago

Text

Simon Riley who realizes how much he fucked up and that maybe therapy isn't such a bad idea

AN: Lil bit longer than usual, but it's been on my mind

Art credit to SubsurfaceChaos on Twitter

Something was off with him all day. It wasn't too noticeable until he began distancing himself, getting irritated at being around anyone. You confronted him, simply trying to see if you could help or maybe provide comfort, and fuck did that backfire.

He was sitting in the living room watching whatever was on the channel, but it's not like he was paying attention to it. Thoughts and feelings of the deployment he just came back from a few days ago build up, irritation filling him like water in a bathtub. He doesn't usually have flashbacks or anything like that, the military would discharge him if he had PTSD, but some days he thinks too much.

He didn't even notice you coming in until you were sitting next to him. He snaps out of his thoughts just to meet your soft eyes. You sat on the other end of the couch, not wanting to crowd him too much while he's like this.

"What." He deadpans, voice devoid of all emotion.

Yeah something's definitely up.

"What's wrong, Si? Somethin' been messing with you today?" You ask gently, not wanting to come off as if you're accusing him.

He gives you and irritated look, suggesting you drop it, "Nothin', 'm fine"

You're not stupid. He tends to need a little push in order to open up.

"I know you're not", tone still soft, "I'm not trying to irritate you or anything, I ju-"

"Well you certainly got an affinity for it" He snaps, "Drop it"

You inhale, trying to not take his words personally, "Si, I'm your girlfriend, it's kinda my job to check in with you"

The bathtub overflows.

"You can't listen, can you? I said drop it, fuckin' 'ell" He stands up from the couch and walks to the kitchen, trying to create distance.

"Simon I'm just trying to help, I'm not here to make things harder for you" You try to reason with him, swallowing the lump in your throat.

You follow him into the kitchen but still give him space. He doesn't say anything back, a small part of him knowing you're right but the larger part won't connect to that. Pouring a class of orange juice, he keeps his back to you.

"Si-"

"Can you shut up for once?! Can you? I said bloody drop it. It's not up for discussion!" He sets the cup on the counter with a thud and snaps at you, "You're always fuckin' naggin' at me, clearly not takin' a bloody hint. Jesus Christ"

That shuts you up. The lump in your throat intensifies, tears beginning to form in your eyes. He's never yelled at you like that before. Sure, he's had bursts of irritation during arguments, but he's worked hard to make sure he never treats you how you don't deserve.

"Why are you yelling at me? All I'm doing is trying to be there for you" You ask quietly, voice not really allowing you to speak louder. a couple tears fall down your face, and your nose begins to get stuffed up. You try to quietly sniffle but he still hears it. He hangs his head down and groans quietly.

"Now you're fuckin' cryin'. Great."

Not wanting to be around him much longer, you turn to leave, "Come find me when you're calmer", Your voice betrays you and cracks a little.

You walk away and go upstairs to your shared bedroom. Once you close the door, the crying begins. His words cut through you like a knife, a deep pressure-like hurt seeping through your chest. Sobs rack your body yet you still try to be quiet, not wanting him to hear. You know he's gonna snap out of it and fuckin hate himself for what he did. You know he loves you, and if he were in his right mind he would have never uttered a single degrading word to you.

You slip into bed and lay there, crying. You guessed he would be up anytime soon and the smell of him on the pillows was both comforting and hurtful.

Downstairs though, Simon was fucking fuming. Seeing you go up the stairs, lip quivering, evaporated every bit of him anger. He groans loudly and throws an arm over his eyes.

'How fuckin' stupid can you be? How the fuck can you speak to her like that?'

He removes his arm and leans against the counter, arms crossed over his chest. You've stuck through with him since the moment you meet. Never once judged his off stand-ish behavior and learned to find ways to work with him. He cherished you so wholly, feeling what he thought he never would. You came into his life and slowly broke down his walls, allowing you to see him apart from his exterior.

He thought he was going to lose you. Sure, you had arguments before, but he had never purposefully tried to hurt you. Knowing that he did made his stomach churn, nausea kicking in. 2 years of the best relationship (not that there were very many before you) all to be broken down, at least what he thought, because he was pissed off.

'Maybe I should fuckin' go to therapy.'

Let's be honest, he could use it. He tried to go through it before but just quit due to how uncomfortable it made him. He figured he was on his own, all before you, and there was no one to deal with his bullshit besides him. Now he has someone who he cares about so much that it doesn't matter if he's uncomfortable. He'd rather be uncomfortable than never be with you again.

He gathers the balls to go upstairs and carefully opens the door. He's met with the sight of you curled up, your sniffles being the only sound in the room.

"Go away" You call out, although not too loudly. Your voice is wobbly and stuffy.

He'd think it was adorable, had he not been the one to cause it. He walks to the opposite side of the bed and gets in, spooning you. He kisses your hair so gently it would give you butterflies if you weren't so upset.

"I'm so sorry, love. I haven't a clue why I did that to you and you didn't deserve a single lick of it." He feels the small burn in his nose as he starts tearing up a little, "I promise it'll never happen again"

You sniffle as more tears fall, the pain sticking to you despite his words.

"I wasn't trying to piss you off" You whisper.

"I know baby, it wasn't you. I promise it wasn't. Could never be that mad at you" He says softly, a tear falling. He grips you a little bit tighter and kisses the back of your neck, trying to bring comfort to both of you.

"Then why did you yell at me? I've never heard you like that before."

He sighs, "Been thinkin' 'bout what happened while I was gone and it came out at you. 'M gonna go back to therapy 'n try to fix what ever the hell is wrong with me" He kisses your neck again, " 'M gonna do better, gonna be better"

He's not stupid, he knows his words aren't gonna go away overnight. He knows how much you love him, even if he doesn't understand it, and knows hearing that from him hurts more than it would anyone else. He knows you're gonna be affected by them for a bit and he's prepared to fix it. Anything for his love.

You turn around so you're both still on your sides but you're cuddled into his chest. Wasting no time, not even hesitating, he wraps his arms around you and holds you tight. He lets out a sigh of relief, knowing this is your way of accepting his apology. He softly kisses your forehead and cheek, whispering how much he loves you and how it's gonna be better.

He knows he can't run from his issues anymore and for once he's ready to face them.

#call of duty modern warfare #cod x reader #ghost cod #simon riley #cod simon riley #cod ghost #ghost mw2 #ghost call of duty #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x reader hurt/ comfort #cod hurt/comfort #ghost x reader hurt/ comfort #cod angst #simon riley x reader angst #ghost cod angst

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reiderwriter · 7 months ago

Note

Hello!I hope you are having a great day!I love LOVE your writing and I would like to request a fanfiction where the reader is Hotch's daughter who works at the bau and is in a secret relationship with spencer without her dad knowing.Spencer wants to tell the team but she is scared about how they'll react so they fight but during a case she gets kidnapped and the feelings are high,so spencer accidentally reveals the relationship.I would love if it ended in smut (possibly dom!spencer who is angry at her for being so reckless and risking her life like that) and maybe a lot of angst??Hotch could potentially be fuming but when they get her back he decides that he will let them be??I would like my emoji to be 🌼!Thank you in advance and if you write this I would absolutely LOVE to read it!🤍🤍

A/N: I love writing for a Hotchner Reader because the Hotch/Spencer parallels are so 😙👌 This was so fun to write!

Warnings: Smut/ Angst with a happy ending, Semi-public sex, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, case details, kidnapping, abuse, strangulation, mentions of child death/ allusions towards pedophilia etc, Hotch is a somewhat shitty/overprotective dad/boss.

Masterlist!

Falling back into a hotel bed that wasn't yours, you wrapped your legs around Spencer Reid as he furiously worked open the buttons of your shirt, his lips locked with yours in a furious exchange.

“Spencer, Spencer, we can't-” You moaned as his lips fell down to your ear, a small tap to your thigh signalling that he wanted tour legs spread for him. Despite your vocal protests, you complied.

“Need to feel you,” he groaned, nipping and sucking his way down your chest as his big hands began pushing your skirt up and your panties down.

“Spencer, someone will hear.”

“I don't care who hears,” he whispered, finally ridding you of the last piece of material covering your wet sex. “I just want to make you feel good.”

His lips fell to your cunt, falling on your cunt as he began his ministrations. You loved this, the feeling of him near, his lips on you, his tongue teasing out whimper, then moan, then a scream of his name as you came undone on his lips. But that wasn't a chance you could take today.

“He's in the next room, Spencer. Fuck, he's going to hear us.”

You wouldn't push him off, enjoying too much the feeling of your building pleasure, so appealing to your boyfriend to do the right thing was your last resort as your hips bucked into his face, chasing your orgasm.

He didn't stop, but held your hips down, thrusting his tongue in and out of you as his fingers came up to tease your clit.

“Spencer, fuck-” you slapped a hand over your mouth as you shuddered below him, finally reaching your climax.

Your hands fell limp as he worked you through the end of your orgasm before rising up to lay beside you on the bed.

“I wish you wouldn't push it, Spencer. You're a dead man if he catches us like this.”

“Hotch won't kill me just because I'm dating his daughter. I don't understand why you don't want to tell people.”

You ran your hands through your hair in frustration. It was a conversation you'd been back and forward on a lot in the past six months.

Dating a coworker was tricky, doubly so when your coworker’s boss - and your boss - was your overprotective father. Things only became more complicated when you factored in a ten year age gap and the fact that your father refused to view you as an adult, even when you were a fully qualified member of his own team.

You'd had to fight for acceptance into the FBI and go above him to get the job on his team, a decision that he still berated you for to this day. But you'd had enough of him shielding you from reality, and it was a step you needed to take.

Falling in love with Spencer Reid, though, that was just pure bad luck.

You weren't sure how it had taken you until joining the team to meet the man, but you sure were glad he hadn't been introduced earlier. You'd joined the team at 24, having been in grad school until your FBI Academy application was approved, and somehow in the 10 years before that Spencer had worked under your father, you'd never crossed paths.

Of course, you knew who he was before that from context and conversations with your father, and of course, he figured out who you were quickly based on the many arguments you'd had in Hotch’s office. But that hadn't stopped you from repeatedly falling into his bed month after month, and then falling in love with him.

Your relationship was more than the sex, but it was also a lot of sex. From the stories you'd heard, and from the look of him, you'd assumed that Spencer was a delicate little flower, an innocent in the bedroom as much as any 34 year old man could be.

And then you'd both been offered spiked drinks at a holiday party courtesy of Penelope Garcia, and he'd proved you deliriously wrong. He'd been hooked from then on, and after waking up awkwardly in his bed the next morning to two cups of coffee and a spread of breakfast pastries he'd gone out to specifically pick up for you, you'd been hooked on him as well.

The only problem was Hotch.

You certainly weren't winning any daughter of the year awards already with the stunt you pulled to get on the BAU, but you didn't want to be completely and totally disowned just yet.

“Hotch won't kill you for dating his daughter, you're right,” you mumbled back to Spencer rolling yourself back on top of him and pinning his arms down so his fingers couldn't tease you any further.

“Thank you, now if you trust me, I've ran like four different scenarios in my head so-”

“He'd definitely fire us both, though. And that's worse than death.”

“Y/N….”

“Tell me I'm wrong, please. Back up your findings with empirical evidence. He doesn't want me on the team, Spencer. He doesn't even want me in the FBI. I think he'd be happy enough to ship me out of the country, too, if that helped.”

Spencer sighed and tugged your hair behind your ear as he gestured for you to sit up.

“I know it's scary. But I love you. I don't care about the consequences because I'll still love you before and after telling him.”

“And during?”

“I might freak out a bit, but deep down, the love will be there still.”

You hit him with a pillow and climbed off the bed.

“Okay, get out now. I'll think about it but you really can't stay here tonight.” He nodded, grabbing his things and pulling his clothes back into place.

“So, like we're totally done for tonight? Nothing else.”

“Spencer! Out!” You whisper-shouted the words and watched him turn your door handle as slowly as possible before he waved his goodbye and left your room.

12 hours later, you were once again getting frustrated with Spencer Reid. And Aaron Hotchner. They may soon be enemies, but goddamn they were perfect for each other in some ways.

“Hotch, you can't just give me nothing to do. Send me to the morgue with Rossi, or let me interview family members with Tara. I'm a member of this team, too, so let me do my job.”

“You'll do well to remember that I'm your boss, Y/N.”

“You're acting more like my dad right now. A boss would utilize his team members.”

You'd been stuck in this stale mate since the morning, and Reid hadn't helped at all. When giving out assignments that morning, you'd not been notably left out of crime scene investigation, suspect interrogation, and anything helpful. Reid usually asked for your assistance at times like these, but he was finally putting his money where his mouth was and keeping distance from you in the office.

So far, you'd ran coffees back and forth between the kitchen and work room and had been communicating back and forth with JJ and Derek in the field and Garcia back at Quantico.

You'd been, for lack of better comparison, relegated to receptionist.

“At least let me work on the geographical profile with Reid-”

“Absolutely not.”

You stiffened at the reaction, wondering just exactly why he would react so strongly. Spencer had snuck in a few secret kisses here and there this morning, though you'd been sure that you'd had no witnesses.

“Why not?”

“I don't want you to distract him.”

Bile settled in the back of your throat as you tried your best to bite your tongue and keep the bitter words in.

“You know, sometimes, Dad, it feels like you love everyone on this team more than you love me.”

He locked eyes with you quickly, but he glance was dismissive and stern, almost as if he was asking you ‘seriously.’

You turned on your heels and began to walk out before he called out from behind you again.

“Y/N,” you stopped despite yourself.

“Leave the gun and badge on the desk. We'll discuss this after the case is closed.”

You almost laughed. You almost blurted out your relationship with Spencer just to spite him. You followed his order and took yourself out of the office for some fresh air, finally giving him what he wanted.

An hour of aimlessly wandering down the street, and you turned into a run-down park. 16 missed calls from Spencer and other members of the team, who'd no doubt watched you turn in your badge.

Garcia had even called a few times, and you felt guilty for not forwarding her calls somewhere else, knowing she'd probably have key case information for someone.

But you just couldn't handle it anymore, so you switched it off, pushed it back into your pocket, and kept walking.

It was two more blocks before the man following you pushed a soaked rag over your mouth and nose and pushed your unconscious body into the back of a waiting van.

×××××

Two hours of near constant complaining to Hotch had gotten Spencer nowhere in his demands to know just where you went.

He'd called you 36 times since Hotch had told him you'd left, and he hadn't stopped freaking out since.

“But where did she go?”

“I sent her back to the motel.”

“All of our cars, bar the one JJ and Morgan took to the crime scene, are outside and accounted for. The motel is a 34-minute drive away. It'll take her 5 hours on foot through our unsubs hunting grounds, and I'm not sure if you've noticed, but she matches the victim profile we just gave. Where is she?”

A muscle in Hotch's jaw twitched, but neither of them moved, eyes locked in battle to see who would back down first.

A call from Penelope ended whatever disaster was storming between them.

“Hotch hey, I can't get in contact with mini-Hotch, so here I am. Morgan called earlier from the crime scene. From the way they're posed, he said they could be possible stand-ins for a lost child a daughter or a sister, so I cross checked the ownership of the vehicles that run with the tires we found prints of at the scene, and I got a name. Like one.”

“Great work, Penelope, send it over.”

Hotch dropped the call and looked back up at Spencer, readying himself to give orders and push the issue.

Again, their standoff was interrupted.

“Hotch,” JJ rushed in, carrying a radio dispatcher, face white, and filled with worry. “You need to hear this.”

“Witness reported an abduction on East and 7th, patrol surveyed the scene and found a cellphone. Identifying information suggests it belongs to a Y/N Hotchner. We're bringing it into the stat-”

Hotch stood so fast his chair almost crashed to the floor. He stood so fast that he barely had time to dodge the lunge Spencer took in his direction, fist pulled back. It would connect, given the chance he knew it would. He'd been the one to teach Spencer to throw a punch in the first place.

Morgan insinuated himself between the two men before, and blood could be shed, quickly pulling Spencer back as Rossi, too, rushed into the room to diffuse the situation.

“One hour. I've been asking you for one hour where she went, and you wouldn't answer me. You made her leave her gun behind.”

It wasn't exactly a shout, but there was something broken in his voice, as of his mouth had filled with blood and he could only spit hate at a man who'd been a mentor to him until seconds before.

“If she's hurt- fuck, if even a hair on her head is out of place, I'll-”

“What, Spencer? What will you do? She's my daughter. What could you do that-”

“She's my girlfriend! She's my girlfriend, she's the love of my life. God, I want to marry her, I have the ring, I have the proposal planned, all that was left was telling you and then asking her, but you've been such a dick to her about this job, and about cases, and God knows what else, that she doesn't want to say anything to you, and now you've driven her away and she's fucking gone. And she could be hurt or in danger or d-de…”

He crumpled to the floor, Morgan still holding him as his legs gave way beneath him.

Nobody moved for what felt like hours, still in their grief, shock, some just nervous to see what would happen next.

“You've been in this situation before, Hotch. So have I. It's …. It hasn't ended well for us before.”

The words were so final, so defeated that they sucked the air out of the room.

“Morgan,” Hotch started quietly, eyes still locked with Reid's, still staring down the reflection of his own despair.

“Get Garcia back on the line, I want confirmation that the vehicle that picked Y/N up is the same one that our unsub has been using to set up crime scenes. See if she can lift a name and an address. Rossi, if he's skilled enough to pick up an FBI Agent unaware, we need a SWAT team, get one on standby.”

Slowly growing in volume, he continued, as the room started moving at his signal.

“JJ, Tara, take over where Reid left off with the geographical profile. Look at Y/N's last known location and how far a car could've gotten in the last 24 minutes.”

He paused again, staring Reid down.

“Reid, you're with me.”

xxxxx

It took you a few seconds to gain a sense of your surroundings when you came to. Partially because of the drug induced migraine splitting your head, and partially because of the mess of ribbons and stuffed toys you'd woken up in.

A change of clothes, and hands tied to what seemed to be a children's bed and you felt so grossly vulnerable your body shook with a few harsh sobs before you regained your composure and remembered your training.

The knots on the rope holding your hands were tight. There wasn't much room to move with them pinned above your head, but you recognised them as naval knots. Your unsub had experience at sea, recreational or professional you'd yet to determine.

Looking around again, you looked for entries and exits, wanting to know how the unsub would come in again and how you could get out.

There were no windows, but a set of stairs leading up towards a solid door told you that you'd been locked inside a basement. A basement decorated similarly to a child's bedroom.

Dimly lit by a mass of fairy lights, the room seemed covered head to toe in teddy bears, dolls, and children's books, a sturdy handmade doll’s house standing in the corner of the room.

Faintly, you heard the creaking of floorboards above you before the handle of the basement door rattled and more light poured in.

“I bought you breakfast, cupcake.”

There was no time to feign unconsciousness again as your captor finally came into view.

He was older than middle-aged, slightly wider around the midsection than you assumed he'd been in his youth. His hair was closely cropped and laid neatly, leading you to suspect he was former military.

“Oh, good, you're awake. What do you want to do today, cupcake? Daddy has some time off now, I can play with you all you want.”

You moved slowly, pushing yourself up to a seated position so you could bend your arms a bit. But you didn't look away, needing to keep him in your line of sight the entire time.

“Where am I?” You asked slowly, trying to keep your voice steady.

“Wow, you must've had a deep sleep cupcake. You're in your bedroom, silly!”

The man's sprightly tone was disconcerting, and you could see a muscle in his forehead twitch slightly as you spoke.

“O-of course. My mistake. Maybe I'm just still tired.”

He laid the tray on the bedside table and sat on the bed next to you. You tried your best not to shy from his touch as he stroked your hair, but every muscle in your body tensed and pulled from him reflexively.

A quick glance to the tray and you saw the food he'd brought you was a small cup of pills and a glass of water to rinse them down with.

If he noticed your flinch, he said nothing, grabbing a hairbrush from the nightstand and beginning to comb through your hair slowly and deliberately, taking care like one would a daughter.

“Daddy,” you took a chance, recalling the name he'd given himself earlier. “Can we play outside today? I want to go to the park.”

He stopped moving, and you held your breath as his smile dropped.

“No, sweetie. You know we don't go to parks.”

“Why not? I really want to play there, Daddy, please!”

In seconds, his hands wrapped around your throat as he pushed you back down into the bed, holding you there with his tight, suffocating grip.

“Shut the fuck up you little slut. I said we don't go to parks, you listen. I am your father, you are not being taken by one of those sick freaks again.”

He released you as quick as he grabbed you and stood up, pacing as he attempted to regain composure.

“You can draw or we can have a tea party but you know we can't go out. You know that cupcake, I've told you so many times.”

He grabbed at his hair, pulling it from its carefully styled arrangement into a mess, his fingers leaving red marks against his white skin as he pushed and pulled his head.

He breathed deeply, and you sat up, trying to regain your composure as you watched him lose his.

“What was her name?” You whispered, half hoping he would hear you, half praying that he'd ignore you for the sake of his fantasy.

“W-What?”

“Your daughter. What was her name?”

He focused on you again, but his hands - hands that you knew could and would choke the life out of you if you did something wrong again - his hands were shaking.

You heard the floorboards creaking upstairs and decided to push your questioning, hoping it meant what you thought it did.

“Why are you saying it like that, ‘was?’ Is. Her name is, your name is Laura, and you're my little cupcake.”

“What happened to her?” You filled your voice with as much sympathy and understanding as you could muster, one eye on the basement door that was being slowly pushed open. One look at Morgan at the top of the stairs had your heart rate slowing to a calmer speed. You locked eyes with him for a second, halting him, and he nodded, waiting for your signal.

“You, you're my cupcake, you look just like… She should look just like you.”

The man sat on the bed again, stroking a hair out of your eye as his filled with tears.

“Fifteen years. I looked for her for fifteen years, you know. If I hadn't taken her to that park-”

“That must have been hard.”

He nodded as he broke down in silent sobs.

“They said… they said she probably died a day or two after we lost her. When they found her, she was…” he rested his head on your shoulder, let him cling to you as he mourned his daughter.

“We couldn't identify her, but she had that teddy with her. The teddy with the cupcake in its hands. She never went anywhere without it. So we…we knew.

You looked at Morgan as he slowly made his descent into the room, closely followed by JJ.

The man looked up into your eyes again, wiping the tears from his face.

“She was only 8.” He looked defeated, and your heart broke for him, even as you wished to get as far away from him as you could physically muster.

Morgan pulled him up and away from you as he secured the man with handcuffs, but his eyes remained locked on you.

JJ untied you and guided you out, but you felt his gaze bite into you ever after you'd left the basement.

As soon as you were above ground, you let your body divest itself of adrenaline, your legs buckling as JJ tried to catch you. Another set of arms was quicker, though, and you didn't even register Spencer's arrival before burying your head in his chest and letting your sobs escape you.

He guided you to your feet and walked you out to the ambulance, his arms protectively wrapped around you, his lips peppering kisses along your hairline and forehead, anywhere he could reach. In moments, you were bundled into the ambulance, and three gentle voices were trying to calm you, to pry you away from your comfort doll.

You wondered if you'd die like the unsubs daughter had, if they'd find you clinging to Spencer the way she had to her teddy bear.

“Y/N,” your father's deep voice was clear and smooth, the only thing that was cutting through the wretched moment of pain you were enduring.

You remembered yourself again, relinquishing your grip on Spencer and wiping the tears from your face as you finally looked towards Aaron Hotchner.

The paramedics took their chance and began checking your vitals, working around you in a hurry.

“Dad, I'm sorry, I was walking and didn't notice that he was behind me, I should've been more careful-”

“Y/N, it’s okay. You're okay now.”

You nodded as he came closer. You ignored the tears in his eyes, trying not to break down again. It had been an age since you'd last witnessed him cry, at another crime scene with another family member and another unsub. You couldn't think about how close you'd come to making him relive his worst nightmare.

Spencer's hand was still firm in yours, and you held it like a lifeline, though you were sure your nails had to be cutting him by now. It took another moment to register that he was holding onto you just as hard, that he was unmoving, still where he was usually a series of compulsive moments, tapping, hand wringing, fists clenching and releasing.

You glanced between the men, who had now become quiet as they surveyed you, and noticed the tension. Before you could say anything, though, the paramedics took over.

“We're going to get you to the hospital now, Agent, one coworker can accompany you in the vehicle, preferably one with knowledge of your medical history.”

Both men immediately moved forward again, as if ready to jump into the van, before turning again to each other.

“Shit,” you mumbled to yourself just as the buzzing in your head from the migraine grew louder.

“Y/N, it's your choice. Who do you want to come?” Spencer said gently, his body still stiff with worry.

“I'm her father. This isn't a question of who she likes better.”

“I have her medical records memorized, and I have more knowledge about the drugs the unsub gave her, but Y/N can choose for herself because she is a grown woman.”

You sighed and dropped the man's hand as the medics ushered you into the van fully, but the men were fully absorbed in their fight for dominance that they barely registered it.

“JJ. JJ is coming with me,” You could see both of them turn back to you to argue, but you continued before they could. “Because I am a grown adult who knows her own medical history, and I don't need my father and my… coworker having territory wars over my wellbeing.”

And possibly because she'd be the least awkward option to answer the questions about sexual activity and possibility of pregnancy around, but you really did not need to vocalize that.

“Right now, I'm just a victim you've saved. Go and do your jobs and meet me at the hospital later because I am not doing overtime completing paperwork while on suspension.”

JJ climbed up into the ambulance and the doors shut, letting you finally get a few moments peace as it began slowly making its way to whatever hospital was closest.

“He knows, right?” You asked, covering your eyes with your hands as you braved for the answer.

“Hotch? You could say that he figured it out.”

“That bad?”

“Spencer threw a punch at him. He tried to at least.”

“What?!” Your body shot up, but the paramedic gently forced you back into a laid position, giving you a warning look to stay put as she checked your blood pressure.

“Don't be too hard on him, Y/N. He thought he was going to lose you. They both did. I don't think either of them would survive it happening again.”

The guilt hit you right in the chest as you nodded and dropped the conversation.

“Maybe I should've let Spencer come with me.��

“Why?” JJ asked, not offended bit curious.

“Because I'm not entirely sure my father won't throw that punch back at him now he knows I'm okay. It's hard being in a relationship if one of you is dead.”

The older woman chuckled slightly, and you settled back down, letting the car movements rock you into sleep.

xxxxx

A few hours later and some quietly bickering voices pulled you from the rest you'd so sorely needed. Without even opening your eyes, you knew they'd both subtly scrambled to your bed to make sure you were comfortable.

“What are you talking about?” You asked, wiping your eyes carefully as you tried to sit up, arms still aching from being tied up.

“Oh shit-” you exclaimed after seeing your boyfriends freshly split lip.

“Dad, what the fuck?”

“Y/N, it's fine. It doesn't hurt.”

“Aaron Hotchner, do you have nothing to say for yourself?” You tried to put all of tour anger into the words as you said them, bit he looked at you again with his straight face, and you crumpled under the pressure.

“I won't…I'm not going to object. I just ask you to keep your private life separate from your work.”

“And you're going to punch my boyfriend while I'm unconscious, so I can't defend him.”

“I'm still your father, and he deserved it.”

You looked back over to Spencer, who was quite notably not meeting your eyes.

“Do I want to know?”

“I'm leaving now. Jack will be here soon. He wants to check on you now that school is over. We told him you were hurt trying to save a sick man.”

“Thank you, dad.”

He nodded at you and left you alone in your hospital room with Spencer.

“Why did you deserve it?” You whisper shouted the moment you assumed he was out of earshot.

“The doctor came in and asked about some old bruises on your upper thighs. And ass. And chest. I had to admit they weren't sustained during the kidnapping, and Hotch wasn't pleased.”

You huffed out a sound halfway between incredulous and a strangled moan of shame as you curcled yourself up into a ball and tried your best to die.

“Great. Wonderful.”

“If it makes you feel any better, he thought it was signs of domestic violence and not just rough...sex.”

“Yes, Spencer, that makes me feel entirely more comfortable with the situation.”

Registering the sarcasm in your voice, he quieted down again, settling into the chair by your bedside and grabbing your hand.

You sat silently together for a few minutes before either of you said anything.

“I'm sorry. I know you didn't want him to find out.”

“Spencer, you don't have to apologise. All things considered, this is possibly the best way he could've found out.”

“My busted lip suggests otherwise, I think.”

“And a whole lot more would've been busted if he caught us any other time. Besides, I already lost my job, so there's not much else at stake anymore.”

The words stung you as you said them, but you did still feel the weight of your dismissal in your chest, spreading miserably through your bones.

“Does your head still hurt?”

“Not really, why?”

“You're not as perceptive as you usually are.”

You shot him a confused look as he smiled softly down at you, offering a nod towards the small coffee table under the window of your hospital room.

There on your table sat your creds and your gun. The silent acknowledgement you'd been waiting for from your father.

Spencer sat by you as you did your best to hold off the tears. He let you pretend there was something in your eye, let you wonder if your eyes had become watery because of dust from the basement. He quietly held your hand as you grinned and grinned until you pulled him in for a kiss and held him close to you.

His lips were soft as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down on top of you even as he tried to hold himself up and off you so he didn't hurt you.

“You know,” you said, punctuating each word with another sweet kiss. “This means- that- you're- stuck- with- me.”

He laughed into your final kiss, finally pulling back for more air, studying your face as if he were trying to memorize it.

“That was never the issue.”

“Oh really, and what was?”

He kissed your again, slow and deep this time, taking his time working his hands down from your hair to your neck to cup your face so you were opened up to him, letting his lips and tongue explore everything he wanted to. He pulled away eventually and instinctively your lips tried to chase his, even as he pulled out of reach.

“Making sure you stayed by my side.”

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid criminal minds #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n

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andvys · 2 months ago

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Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

The Epilogue ⭐︎ We'll have a cardboard box of photos of the life we made

Warnings: none really, fluff, lots and lots of fluff, pregnancy, a little (or not so little) time jump, dad!Steve, pregnant!reader, the 'teens' are in their early twenties, proofread but... poorly, please ignore any mistakes

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Word count: 5.1k+

Author's note: This is it, friends. The story is done (sob), I'm so grateful for everyone who supported this story, who commented and filled my inbox with sweet asks, I appreciate every single one of you ♡ and @hellfire--cult my love, thank you for working on this story with me, I had the best time working on all these chapters with you, I love u

Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter

♡

“Lego Head!”

Steve comes scrambling down the stairs, panic in his eyes at the sound of your cry, his heart pounding with worry but also with fear at the frustration in your voice.

He nearly slips on the hardwood floor as he rounds the corner into the kitchen, his hair still wet from the shower he just took after he hurried home from work. He wanted to clean the kitchen and get started on dinner before you got home but time wasn’t on his side today.

Steve doesn’t know whether he should smile out of adoration or tremble in fear at the sight of his pregnant wife, fuming at the unwashed dishes in the sink.

You look so cute, no matter the mood you are in, you are just so goddamn cute, standing in your sundress, hand over your belly, wedding ring shining under the golden light of the evening sun. The frown on your face is adorable as you stare at him with furrowed brows and downturned lips. His heart flutters so wildly in his chest, after years of marriage and kids, his feelings only intensified, they kept growing, his love deepening more and more, each passing day with you. He is so damn lucky.

He approaches you, glancing at the dishes he couldn’t get his hands on yet, he grabs your waist and pulls you closer, “I’m sorry, baby, I was gonna do them after the shower, I just got home from work–”

Your sniffle cuts him off and he instantly stops talking when he sees the tears in your eyes, your lips moving into a pout, guilt crossing your face as you stare at your loving husband.

“I’m sorry! – I know you’re tired–”

“No, no, don’t cry sweetheart, I know you had a hard day too.”

“No, I snapped at you, I’m–”

Steve can’t help but smile softly as he shakes his head, cupping your cheeks softly, he leans in and presses his lips to yours, kissing you softly, taking your mind off the dishes that drove your hormones insane.

A sigh of contentment falls from your lips, your eyes flutter shut and you melt so softly into him, placing one hand on his cheek, his stubble scratching against your palm. His scent, his body wash filling your senses and making your stomach flutter, making you feel at peace.

Steve smiles into the kiss as he feels himself calming down after the stressful day at work, your touch always brings him down, no matter how hectic and how bad a day has been, he always looks forward to coming home.

When you part from the kiss, your husband nuzzles your nose, making you giggle through the tears that sparked in your eyes. He tucks your hair behind your ears and places his large hand on your belly, his eyes glowing with nothing but love and happiness.

“Hi darling,” he whispers, greeting you properly now, he murmurs against your lips, kissing you once more.

“Hi Stevie, I missed you,” you whisper, pouting at him in a way that nearly brings him to his knees.

The smile never leaves his lips, his heart never stops to flutter. He kneels down and kisses your belly, whispering sweet nothings to his little princess.

You run your fingers through his wet hair, gazing down at him, your heart swells in your chest.

After running errands all morning and noon, you stopped by his workplace and he took you out for lunch at your favorite diner, he got you dessert too, even though it wasn’t for you as you had claimed but for the growing princess in your belly – he watched with adoration how you devoured that ice cream with such pleasure, just the way you do every night, when you’re both already in bed and a sudden craving of yours, has him jumping out of bed and tiptoeing down the stairs to get you whatever you or your little princess are asking for.

He remembers it like it was yesterday, when you announced your first pregnancy, he was so clueless and confused when you kissed him goodnight and turned your back to him, when usually, you would snuggle against him, nuzzle your nose into his neck and hold onto him tightly. He was a little hurt, even, thinking he had done something wrong to have you facing away from him but when he slid his hand under his pillow while he was staring at the back of your head and he felt something lying beneath, he furrowed his brows for a different reason as he felt the plastic touching his fingers, when he pulled it out and held it before his face, his eyebrows shot up, his eyes widened and a gasp threatened to fall from his lips as his heart started pounding wildly, excitement and giddiness settling in his stomach.

He needed to be one hundred percent sure that he was seeing correctly, so he turned on the light again, reached for the glasses he hated wearing so much, he didn’t even notice how you looked back at him with a soft smile on your face, he was too in shock about the two lines staring back at him. He knew what it was, he knew what it meant but he still needed the confirmation.

“Baby,” he whispered, his voice shaky from the uncontainable excitement. He slowly turned towards you after he ripped the covers off himself, he placed his hand on your shoulder and turned you around, “darling, light of my life, my gorgeous wife, Blondie– please tell me that this is what I think it is,” he begged, eyes pleading as they stare at you with such love.

The smile on your face, the tears in your eyes that were matching his own were enough of an answer but you nodded and whispered a soft ‘yes’, nonetheless.

“You’re– You’re pregnant?” He whispered, eyes glossy and filled with a softness that had you trembling with emotions. “We’re having a baby?” He asked as his eyes flickered to your stomach that was covered by his shirt on your body, he slowly placed his hand on your belly, while still holding the pregnancy test with shaky hands.

You answered by placing your hand on top of his, nodding again with a happy tear running down your cheek, one that he kissed away in an instant before he wrapped you in his arms, hugging you tighter than he ever has before as tears of happiness cascaded down his own cheeks while you both giggled.

“Yes, Stevie, we’re having a baby,” you said softly, kissing his neck as he buried his face in yours, hand still lingering over your belly, protectively.

He cried, he cried from joy and from love, he could not contain the excitement he was feeling. He had been waiting for this moment for so long, he wanted it from the moment you became his girl. But you both waited, waited for the perfect moment – you enjoyed your time alone with each other, you traveled around the country, stayed in your favorite cities, you spent a summer in Italy, just the two of you.

You got married pretty early on in your relationship, you both knew what you wanted, there was no point in waiting to put rings on each other’s fingers but you decided to wait with kids, well, Steve was open to having them from the start, but you weren’t ready until about three months ago – the moment you have told him that you were off birth control, he pounced on you, ready to take you in every way possible, and he did, he did it a lot, not only that night, but all the following days and weeks, he took you absolutely everywhere, at any time. You thought that he was intense before but what followed after you told him that you were ready, topped everything that you had done in the past.

He kissed your neck, your cheeks, your forehead, your nose, he covered your whole face in kisses before his lips touched your own, he made you both giggle. “I love you, baby, I love you so fucking much,” he mumbled against your lips as his tears fell down on you, his soft eyes gazed into your own as his hand cradled your belly.

“I love you, Stevie,” you whispered and brushed your fingers through his messy hair, adoring the way the glasses adorned his pretty face.

More giggles fell from your lips when he started kissing down your body before he settled between your legs, lifting your shirt, he smiled before he pressed his lips to your belly, kissing it softly as he reached for your hand, entwining his fingers with yours, he looked up into your eyes, showing nothing but love for you.

“Hey,” he whispered into your belly, “you’re probably the size of a pea right now and don’t understand a thing I’m saying.”

His lips twitched at the sound of your sweet laughter, he squeezed your hand and held on tighter.

“But hi, I’m your dad,” he whispered as another tear fell from his eye, nothing short of adoration for you and your baby, pride swelling in his chest the more reality was sinking in, “I can’t wait to meet you,” his voice getting higher, his heart beating faster, “and I love you and your mommy so much, sweetpea.” He spoke as he pressed another kiss upon your warm skin.

There was no bump yet, but he already treated your belly like there was one, so much giddiness lingered in him at the thought of your future, of your growing family.

The family that he has now.

“I missed you more, my love,” he smiles softly, feeling the urge to just lift you up into his arms and carry you up into your bedroom, get in bed with you and hold you in his arms.

“Go lay down, I’m gonna get started on dinner.”

You place your hand over his, toying with his wedding ring. You shake your head, “I can help–”

“No, baby, my two girls need to rest,” he says, smiling as he rubs your belly. “Besides, Eddie is gonna be here soon with the–”

The door is banged open before he can even finish his sentence, startling you both before Eddie’s voice sounds through the hallway.

“Children delivery!”

Eddie steps into the kitchen, like he knew you’d both be here, carrying the two boys effortlessly, the older one of them on his shoulders and the other under his arms, already grinning at the sight of you.

“Daddy, Uncle Eddie taught me how to sword fight!” William exclaims, grinning proudly at his father while his little brother babbles away.

“Uncwe Ewwie wade gookies!” Elliot smiles excitedly.

Steve grins, eyes lighting up just the way yours do, you beam at your boys, smiling brightly as Eddie sets them down and they rush over to you, hugging your legs. You lean down and kiss their foreheads, brushing back William’s wild hair that resembles Steve’s so strongly, just like the hazel in his eyes.

“Hi mommy,” he smiles at you before he kisses your belly, whispering a soft ‘hello’ to his sister as his brother imitates him, making you chuckle while your husband watches with adoring eyes.

Steve crouches down to his boys and pulls them into his arms, making both of them giggle as he smacks his lips against their cheeks, greeting them cutely.

Your best friend chuckles as he watches your youngest, how he wraps his arms back around your leg the moment Steve lets them both go, while William makes his way out of the room and brushes past Eddie, no doubt making his way upstairs into his room.

“Did you bring us some of the cookies Uncle Eddie made?” You ask, smiling at your boy.

He shakes his head, pouting cutely as he looks between you and Steve, “I ate all gookies!”

Chuckles fall from your and your husbands lips, sharing amused glances with one another before he leans down and picks up Elliot into his arms, tickling his belly, the little boy giggles loudly.

“You ate all the cookies?” Steve gasps, beaming at his kid, “you’re the cookie monster, aren’t you?”

Elliot giggles and shakes his head at his dad.

“Oh yeah,” Eddie nods with raised eyebrows, stepping closer to the three of you, “he is a little cookie monster.”

“No, Ewwie!” The little boy exclaims, hiding his face in the crook of Steve’s neck, yawning as he snuggles against his dad.

Eddie laughs as he throws his arm around your shoulder, patting your belly softly, “alright alright, you’re not the cookie monster, buddy. But your sister is, your mom can eat a whole batch of cookies nowadays.”

Steve and Elliot giggle at Eddie’s words, while you glare at your best friend who grins at you, shrugging, “what? She has a sweet tooth, just like her mom.”

Eddie winks at you, the youthfulness still so deeply in his features, the playfulness in him still there, never leaving. His hair is just as long as it was years ago, if not longer, his band t-shirts still taking up most of the space in his closet, a few more rings adorn his fingers now, more tattoos on his arm and his chest, peeking out from beneath his shirt.

“Mhmm,” your husband nods, smiling softly at you as he lets Elliot down when he starts wiggling with his feet, he runs out of the kitchen the moment his dad puts him down, following his brother upstairs.

“Robin made you carrot cake, by the way, it’s in the fridge.”

Your eyes widen, lighting up at his words. Your mouth waters instantly, stomach grumbling at the mention of your newest craving.

Eddie chuckles at the expression on your face, the wide and excited eyes resembling the ones of a kid on christmas morning.

“I’m gonna kiss Robin.”

“Uh oh,” Eddie laughs, staring at Steve who frowns at you playfully, “be careful, Harrington, Robin knows how to steal girls.”

“Nobody is stealing my girl,” Steve shakes his head, wrapping his arm around your waist, he brings you closer and kisses your temple, “she’s mine.”

You place your hand on your husband’s chest, nuzzling your face into his shoulder.

“All yours, Lego Head.”

Eddie snorts at the nickname you have been using again lately, teasing Steve with it, every chance you get, but your husband only shakes his head with a smile on his face as his soft eyes gaze down into yours just as lovingly as they did back then, if not more.

It’s been seven years, almost eight, that you and Steve had found your way to each other after denying the bond that had always been there, seven years of this, of lovesick smiles and a bond that is unexplainable to anyone who never experienced a love like yours. You and Steve share something otherworldly, almost like you were made for each other, like you were made with each other, you got something that nothing could ever come between, absolutely nothing, not even death – Eddie is convinced.

Wherever one goes, the other will follow.

He sees the love you share, he sees the way your eyes speak to one another, how sometimes, neither of you has to use words to know what the other wants or needs, there is an understanding between you, no matter what happens, no matter what is going on, no matter the peace or the distress in your lives, you got each other and as long as you do, you both will be okay.

The vows you shared on your wedding day were nothing but truthful and honest words spoken from your hearts, your souls. No emptiness behind them, no promises to ever be broken but ones to keep not in force but in nature, nothing but love and adoration in your hearts for the other – maybe a slight possessiveness but only a healthy amount, a good kind.

Yours and Steve’s wedding will always be something that Eddie looks back at with joy and humor because you weren’t freaking out, neither was Steve, you were both calm, both at peace, both giddy and excited for the day you had been waiting for.

But Eddie, he was freaking out and so was Robin, both excited for their best friends but emotional at best.

Eddie cried when he saw you in your dress, he walked you down the aisle with a blurry vision, tears he tried to blink away were falling. You and Steve giggled through your own tears at your best friend who placed your hand into your fiance’s palm like an emotional father, not ready to see his little girl on the altar.

Eddie is so deeply lost in his thoughts as he stares at you both with a smile on his face, he doesn’t even hear the doorbell, only when you leave the kitchen, and Steve nudges his shoulder, does he snap out of it.

“You tired from babysitting all day, Munson?”

Eddie snorts, grumbling under his breath as he cracks his back.

“You better not make me babysit six kids in the future, or I swear on my uncle–”

“You love my kids, Munson, stop whining.”

“That’s right, I bet my favorite one is gonna be the girl, I just know she’s gonna be a little rockstar, a metalhead like her favorite uncle,” Eddie grins proudly.

Steve rolls his eyes, shaking his head in amusement.

“Are you sure you’re gonna be her favorite?” He asks as he gestures to his boys running down the stairs when they both step into the hallway to see who rang the doorbell.

“Max!” William smiles excitedly, running up to her to greet her, ready to talk her ear off about his day with Uncle Eddie. His brother giggles, throwing himself into Lucas’s arms who picks him up with a smile on his face.

“Hey little Steve,” Lucas jokes as he ruffles Elliot’s hair, “how are you buddy?”

Eddie sighs, placing his hand over his heart, a dramatic yet playful look residing on his face.

“I thought I was the favorite.”

Steve pats Eddie’s shoulder, “you’ll live.”

“Hey red,” Eddie calls out to his ‘step’ sister who nods along to William’s words, a smile upon her face. “How’s little red holding up in there?”

She scrunches her nose up, placing her hand on her small bump, “she’s making me nauseous.”

Lucas nods with wide eyes, “mhm and very hangry.”

Steve and Eddie chuckle while she glares at the three of them.

“Don’t worry, the nausea will pass,” you assure her, knowing just how awful the nausea can be in the first few months, how the morning sickness can drive you up the wall. Steve knows it too, he found you crouched over the toilet one too many times but he had always done such a good job at taking care of you, always there to pull your hair out of your face and rub your back, even when you told him to get out of the room and save himself from seeing you that way, like he would ever leave you to deal with anything by yourself. – He cooked for you, even took it upon himself to learn how to bake to satisfy your cravings, he never came home empty handed, he still doesn’t, he does everything to sweeten your day, absolutely everything. Not because you’re asking for it, you never would, not because he feels like he has to, no, he wants to, he wants to see the smile on your face, he wants to love on you, he loves to spoil you.

“Yeah, Blondie is the expert, she knows all about it, she’s only got like what? Three more pregnancies to go?” Your best friend cackles, making Steve’s cheek go red as the metalhead reminds him of the drunken night he told him that he would put six babies into you.

Max and Lucas both chuckle while Steve groans, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“You’re doing good with it so far, you’re already halfway through!” Lucas grins, wiggling his eyebrows between you and your husband, gesturing to your bump, while Elliot’s big eyes flicker back and forth curiously.

“Daddy bought me a new skateboard!” William exclaims, tugging at Max’s hand as he completely ignores the conversation happening in the room.

“He did?” Max smiles down at him.

“Yeah! Let’s go!” He drags her away, excitedly, beckoning Lucas to come with him as well, to which he chuckles, still holding Elliot in his arms as he follows the little boy and his girlfriend, their voices echoing in the living room.

Steve wears a smile on his lips, his eyes following them until they step out into the backyard. Tilting his head back to you, his eyes soften only further, he pushes himself off the wall and makes his way towards you, reaching his hand out to yours, he takes it softly and pulls you into his arms, kissing your temple, his chest flutters when he breathes in your sweet scent.

A content sigh falls from your lips as you lean into your husband, resting your head on his chest and wrapping an arm around his waist.

“Are you feeling alright, honey?” He murmurs, looking down at you with gentle eyes as his palm rubs your belly.

“Yeah,” you smile, nuzzling further into him.

“Right,” Eddie clears his throat, pretending to be annoyed by the affection you’re both displaying (constantly), “I’m gonna get going, I’m taking my honey out on a date.”

“Ooh, where are you taking her?” You ask.

“Nothing special, we’re going to the movies and then we’ll get some dinner at Enzo’s.”

“That’s nice, Eddie,” Steve shakes his head at him, any date, any moment is special when it’s spent with the right person, he knows it.

“Yeah, I love a movie date and dinner!”

Eddie chuckles at your enthusiasm, “yeah, you only do it like every week,” he huffs in amusement.

“We love it,” Steve shrugs, looking down at you with loving eyes.

“I know you do and well, I do too so I’m gonna go now,” Eddie says, patting Steve on his shoulder before he ruffles your hair and pinches your cheek, “take care of yourself, mama and listen to your hubby when he tells you to rest.”

Steve chuckles at the way you slap your best friend’s hand away, glaring at him.

“I get enough of rest–”

“No, you don’t, honey,” Steve shakes his head, “can’t rest for a single second, you always gotta do something.”

You pout at him, making his eyes soften only further. He leans down and presses his lips to yours before you can protest.

“That’s my cue,” Eddie mumbles, he opens the front door, shouting a goodbye to the boys and to Max and Lucas. He winks at the both of you, grinning when you pull away from one another, “bye lovebirds, enjoy your free time while your two babysitters are keeping your nuggets busy.” He wiggles his brows and cackles, walking out of the door with an amused look on his face, he looks back one more time before he shuts the door, leaving you both to yourselves.

Giggles and voices come from the garden, the sun is still high up in the sky, warmth seeping into the house through the open doors and windows. One peek out in the backyard, you can see William showing his newest tricks to Max while Elliot plays basketball with Lucas, squealing and giggling every time Lucas picks him up so he can shoot the ball into the net.

“Hmm,” Steve hums with a smile on his face, positioning himself behind you, he wraps his arms around your waist, placing one hand under your belly and the other on top of yours, he leans down and props his chin up on your shoulder after kissing it, “let’s order dinner tonight and just relax.”

You lean your head back against his chest, tilting your head to the side, you look up at him, eyes big and soft – something that still drives him crazy.

“Relax?” You giggle when you see the smirk on his lips.

He nuzzles his face into your neck, kissing you softly, “I just want you all to myself for a moment, I missed you all day, darling.”

Your eyelashes flutter, a sweet sigh falls from your lips when he continues to pepper your neck in kisses, you wrap your hand around his wrist, giving it a squeeze, “I missed you too, Stevie,” you whisper.

“Ten minutes, baby, I want ten minutes with my beautiful wife,” he murmurs against your neck, sucking teasingly, making you melt into his arms further.

Your heart flutters in your chest, a small but needy whine escapes you, “ten minutes,” you whimper.

Steve doesn’t need to be told twice, he smacks his lips against your skin once more before he turns you around and he cups your cheeks, leaning down, his nose touches yours, his lips brush against your own, “I love you so much, Blondie,” he teases you with the nickname before he kisses you softly, making you smile against him.

You place your palm above his fluttering heart, resting your other on the back of his neck, “I love you so much, Lego Head,” you tease him back.

He chuckles, leaning his forehead against yours, his soft eyes stare into yours lovingly. He reaches his hand up to your necklace, the one you haven’t taken off since he got it for you all these years ago.

“Where are your glasses, honey?” You ask, sliding your hand from his neck to cup his cheek, thumb caressing his cheekbone.

Steve scrunches his nose up, “I don’t like them.”

He didn’t even like the reading glasses he needed at first, he refused to wear them, claiming that he didn’t even need them. He was squinting his eyes like crazy, it was clear that he struggled to make out the words in the books he was reading, eventually he caved and started wearing them.

But now he needs them for more than just reading and he hates it, he only puts them on when he’s driving and takes them off for everything else, throws them into the drawer in the nightstand and lets them sit there until he has to drive somewhere again.

“Well, I think that you look very handsome wearing them,” you smile, licking your lips as your eyes flicker between his soft eyes and his very kissable mouth. “Very, very handsome,” you whisper and blink at him, innocently.

Your husband smirks at the suggestive tone in your voice, his cheeks heat up, warmth surging through his body.

“Oh, yeah? Well then, I gotta put them on for you… right now.”

A squeal almost falls from your lips when he picks you up suddenly, carrying you up the stairs, bridal style, just like on the day you got married and just like on many occasions after.

Steve kisses your cheek on the way up, grinning at you excitedly, lovingly. His heart swells when you hold onto him tighter, laying your head on his shoulder and nuzzling your nose into his neck.

He adores you, he adores you so much, if his heart could explode from all the love he holds for you, then it would’ve burst by now. He always knew that he loved hard, before you got together, months and months after dating, but even now after so many years together, after creating this beautiful family, he keeps on falling, loving you harder, each day.

It’s all he ever wanted.

And you both had to go through such darkness to get here, he spent so many nights wondering if you’d both be here if things never happened the way they did, back then. – He hates to think of a life without you in it, he despises the thought with all his being.

“Blondie?” He whispers after sitting down on your king sized bed, with you on his lap.

“Yes?” Your voice is only above a whisper, soft and gentle.

Steve grabs your chin tenderly, he looks into your loving eyes and smiles.

“I would go through it all again if it meant I’d get to be where I am, right now. I would go through the darkness, through Vecna, through the upside down… I would do it all over again if I’d get all this, you, in the end.”

There are tears in his eyes and in yours, not of sadness, only of love.

“I would do it all over again too, Stevie,” you whisper with no hesitation.

“Yeah?” He asks softly, gazing at you with teary eyes.

“Yeah,” you nod and lean your forehead against his, “anything for my love.”

His cheeks grow pink every time you call him that, heart beating wildly in his chest, he places his hand on your belly, stroking it softly.

“Anything?”

“Mhmm, anything.”

“Be my forever,” he whispers softly, lips ghosting over yours in a smile, eyes big and sparkly – like you aren’t his forever already.

“You already are, silly,” you peck his lips, making him grin against you, “you’re my forever.”

He cups your cheeks fully now, kissing you stronger and deeper, holding you like he will never let you go – and he won’t, he won’t ever let go.

“And you are mine, Blondie.” Steve kisses you again and again. “My forever.”

It’s hard to believe you were once behind one of the mall’s pillars, hiding from his view, watching him serve ice cream in that stupid sailor outfit while you tried to earn up the courage to talk to him, to really talk to him for once in your life.

It’s hard to believe that he was once looking at you from afar, watching you walk through the hallways without glancing twice towards the same person, wishing you would look at him at least once.

Hard to believe that you two never realized you were performing a stupid dance, be it around each other or with each other for years and years, and now that dance is over. Is it? No. You are still dancing, but now, it’s synchronized, magnetized, and a dance that cannot be broken.

A dance that now is shared with multiple people, with family you thought you would never have again, with family he thought he never deserved, with friends that stuck to you both like glue, and with your children that giggle every time you twirl around one another.

But just because it is hard to believe, doesn’t mean that it would’ve never happened, that it shouldn’t have happened, that it wasn’t supposed to happen. You would have found your way to each other, even without the darkness that pushed you into each other’s arms, the darkness that allowed you to find the happiness and love that you share with each other now.

Forever. And ever… And ever. In this universe, in the next, and the rest to come.

The End.

♡

@prettyboyeddiemunson @mysticmunson @taintedcigs @ibellcipem @joekeerysmoles @thecreelhouse @maroon-cardigan @sherrylyn0628 @corrodedcorpses @munson-mjstan @moon-flowerrs @munsonlore @agirlwholovesrockstars

#dwoht -- epilogue #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble #stranger things angst

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hurts2think · 3 months ago

Note

queen of hearts x fem!reader where shes like a human cheshire cat where she isn’t afraid of the queen in the slightest and the only one who dares to tease her (and it pisses the queen off to no extent)

and the only reason it hasn’t been off with readers head is bc the queen secretly enjoys readers company. mayhaps with the “kissing them to shut them up” trope incorporated. idk sorry if this req is nonsensical 😭😭

🌹The Queen of Hearts x Reader🌹

Reader pronouns: She/her

Pairing: The Queen of Hearts x Fem! human Cheshire!reader

Plot: Wonderland is ruled by a cruel tyrant who shows no mercy to any. She has no heart and certainly no love. But one annoying cat seems to keep appearing by her side. A Cat that she has a lot of tension with.

Word count: 1.3k

Extra: This was succhhh a fun idea. QoH is big time crush of mine! She's kinda tricky to write though so I'm sorry if this is awful. I'm also starting classes again so my scheduled uploading is becoming a little more unorganized sorry

Wonderland is a curious place. It was very unpredictable, as were the people and creatures that lived there. It was never a place that was meant to be made sense of. And for a long time there was no order in the land.

But these past decades there had been. A mighty tyrant was crowned queen and made sure that everything in the kingdom of Wonderland stayed to her liking.

Curfew's, no games, no fun, and definitely no wonder. And that was something you just couldn't live by.

For a long time you only sat in trees and caused mischief and pranks to passerbys. Going around and causing as much chaos as you felt the need to. But you still always noted to stay clear from the castle. You broke every single one of the rules that the Queen enforced and she was not known for being very merciful.

Of course you would just be a smile away from your favorite tree and disappear from any restraints. But maybe it was safer to just stay away.

Well, you wouldn't be the Cheshire Cat if you played things safe, would you?

Of course you just had to meet the Queen herself! Such a respectable lady. Though she makes everything utterly boring, she herself was anything but boring.

She was quite the character, in fact. Or so you heard.

One day you decided to introduce yourself. As in, one day a lonesome grin appeared beside her while she was alone in her room. A smile with no eyes, a smile with no face. A grin that resembled the crescent moon. A grin that sung a tune of how odd she was.

The smile only giggled at her disturbed state. Then the smile spoke to her and she demanded you revealed who you were.

It took a couple weeks of only messing with her and disappearing before she could actually do anything about it before you revealed yourself fully to her.

And now, a couple years later, when you find yourself bored you appear before the Queen and see how far you can push her.

"I'm quite busy today and certainly not in the mood for your shenanigans. So get lost, cat." The Queen of Hearts said in her regal accent and her usual nasty attitude.

She didn't even have to look to know that you had appeared behind her. She had quickly picked up the skill of feeling when you were around.

"Oh my, you look radiant as always, your highness. Why the bad attitude?" You grin wide at her clearly stressed state.

She only scoffed and kept her eyes on the papers in front of her that she was reviewing. Being a queen unfortunately didn't mean pampered treatment 24/7. She felt it was ridiculous that she actually had to do this awful work, "Flattery gets you no where. Now like I said, shoo." The Queen waved her hand in one motion to signal you to leave.

Though you being you, you wouldn't go away so easily.

In a typical cat-like fashion, you hop on the table in front of her, knocking her papers to the side, "Don't be such a sour puss, Bridget." You say, your boot kicking aside the other books on her table as you stretched out.

The Queen was practically fuming now. She could not believe the absolute audacity of the lady cat in front of her. The way you thought you could talk to a queen like that and knock over her stuff? Absolutely unacceptable! "Do not call me that. It's Your Royal Highness to you. Now get off my table immediately." She yelled, standing up to be more assertive.

The grin on your face only widened further as you laughed, "So serious all the time..." You tease, turning over to lay on your side and pose as if you were trying to appear more attractive to her.

"I am your queen and you best do as I tell you or I will have the guards—"

"Do what? Imprison me? Behead me? Yes... I'm sure that will work like the other dozen times it has." You were really pushing your luck, cutting off the Queen like that.

She looked down on you, her eyes narrowing and the scowl on her face only intensifying. That look she gave you was the one that excited you most. The whole reason you do any of this just to see that gorgeous expression. An expression to die for. Literally.

"Now, for how long do you think you will continue to get away with denying a royal command?" She asked, drumming the tips of the red claws on her fingers against the table.

"For as long as I'd like." You hum to yourself, only making yourself more comfortable laying on the table.

Bridget did not seem pleased with the answer you gave. She prayed on day you'd cower at her command but you never did. Never have you ever shown any sign of worry or fright which welled overwhelmingly in her chest.

"But really it's your fault. You do give the dearest reactions." You continue on with a smirk.

"Is that so?" An eyebrow raised as her posture still held her high and her expression rock solid.

"Why, yes of course~" You giggle, "Your reactions... They're all so entertaining yet predictable. All of your adorable expressions only fuel my need to tease you more. Who could resist a person such as yourself? I'm lucky to have the opportunity to be in your presence and—"

But just before you could finish your endless yet flirtatious flattery, Bridget suddenly grabbed you by the collar of your top and jerked you close. Before you could make any kind of remark, she locked her lips to yours to silence you.

And for once, you were completely silent. No stupid grin and no stupid remark.

The kiss was far from gentle, you could've sworn the aggression of it could've bruised your lip. It also lasted longer than you could even imagine. Well, it definitely felt longer than you could imagine. Your hands threatened to wander to her waist but you weren't sure how she'd like that.

Though her hand still held the collar of your shirt, but her free hand held your leg to keep you in place, the claws on her fingers digging into you slightly.

Ame After what felt like forever, she finally pushed you away and leaving you to stumble back. You were left stunned as she turned her back to you.

"That seemed to be quite effective." She remarked, "Tell me, was that predictable as well?" She asked as if she was mocking you. As if she was the one playing with you like a toy rather than the other way around.

In truth, she was quite fond of you. You could believe you got away from her on your own all you like; but she'd never scentence you to death. As much as she'd rather die than admit it, she would feel disappointed the days you wouldn't show up. The days she was left alone on the throne with her kingdom and own daughter to hate her.

She always believed it was better to be feared than loved, that she couldn't be hurt that way. But she felt more alive when you were right beside her. She knew you didn't fear her, and as much as she tried to make you, you never did. And she loved it.

"Wow..." The grin suddenly appeared on your face once again, "You're right, your highness. I didn't see that one coming." You hopped off the table and approached her from being, dropping your arms over her shoulders and leaning against her back, "Perhaps we should do it again~" you smirk.

"Get off of me, you miserable fiend. You're ruining my dress." She commanded, shrugging you off of her.

You back off with an even bigger grin, "You're quite rough, maybe we'll be a little more gentle next time?" You suggest.

"There isn't a next time. Get away before I shut you up in a way you won't find very pleasing." She threatened, shooing you with her hand.

"I just love when you threaten me." You mock a dreamy sigh.

The Queen only scoffs in disgust and rolls her eyes. How could a kitty be so insufferable and endearing at the same time? She swore you'd be the death of her.

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strawberrymochin · 5 months ago

Text

"satoru, let down the infinity.....I'm sorry yk." You look at him with your half lidded eyes. You hand pressing onto the invisible barrier of atmospheric pressure build by gojo's curse technique.

Satoru gojo was mad at you. A rare occurrence in the household. He had a scowling face since last week, refusing to talk to you, to the point he's even avoiding to look at you. It was kinda your fault though, forgetting the day he was supposed to come back after dealing with a long mission.

You just happened to run out of veggies, and needed to run errands for the fushiguros bentos, and while shopping you just got a bit carried away— only a bit— and continued to hop in the mall for another three hours. When you came home you found the door unlocked and a fuming satoru waiting for an explanation for why you didn't answer any of his messages.

"Ahh, toru sorry, i kinda forgot you were coming back today........" Since then he has been giving you silent treatment, not even letting down his infinity to hug you.

However, today you decided you need to apologise.....and a make up with him. Thus you came up with —

Gojo gulped as his eyes travel down your small frame. Prepped up in a red lingerie, laced tight around your curves, with small bows attached to it.

— an apology gift.

you plump ass full on view, so does your tits. Fuck he thought to himself, how can he refuse when you're like this infront of him. Even if you didn't wore that lingerie, he would have had the same effect. You were just too precious. He was mad on you, but staying away from you blinded by his ego was painful— even more painful than you confessing that you forgot the day of his return.

"Toru," you voice trickled down like honey, slow and sweet, lacing with his jumbled thoughts, " lemme make it up to you," he could feel his dick getting harder and harder inside his pants, that's how you had control over him, which even you were unaware of— he could just cum from listening to your voice.

"Lemme love you." The barrier weakened enough to let your hand graze on his chest, till it was down completely.

You push him on the bed swiftly pushing your hair out of the way, kneeling down as he raises his torso, with his help of forearms.

Your hands unbuckled his belt, lowering down the bunch of fabric separating you from him. His shaft springs out, warm and hard, blossoming with his glossy slick. Gojo lets out a breathy moan as you grab hold of his cock, massaging it, as you brush the pad of your thumb on his tip, causing it to twitch letting out more of his precum.

You look up to him, his jaw slight open, eyes clouded with lust, as his breath keeps hitching on your subtle movements. You kiss the crown of his cock, not breaking eye contact with him. You knew his tip was more sensitive as more of his precum leaked out, and you didn't knew if you were high or this was lowkey your kink, which you discovered just today, there was a sudden urge within you— you grazed the tip of his cock, still leaking precum, on your lips, as if applying a lip gloss.

You slipped his cock between your lips, keeping your teeth out of way, about to give him a proper "apology" blowjob but before you could do so, you felt something hot and creamy overflowing your mouth, enough load to make you gag and choke till his substance mixed with your spit , drooled from the corner of your mouth.

"Haaa–ahh....hmmhmh....mmh" He came just from you drawing your lips over his tip. His face was all flustered, chest heaving, and you didn't even start properly.

Swallowing his load, you try to pull back, when you are suddenly stopped by a hand tangling its fingers in your raven locks. Satoru let's out a breathy moan, trying to grip his composure.

"Do you forgive me now toru?"

"Not yet."

"Then?" You frown.

"Milk me and I might consider that."

A/n- **nervous af** banner by me | don't plagiarize | © strawberrymochin 24 |

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fartcushion · 3 months ago

Text

What Are Friends For?

'Oh yeh, this has done it' I thought as I finished the last slice of pizza. Extra meat and extra cheese, the greasier the better. This was on top of of the full fry up I'd had for breakfast. The cabbage stew for lunch. Topped off with a protein shake. Not that I'd been to the gym today, that wasn't the point. I'd just had one, on top of all that heavy food, to get myself nice and gassy. My stomach was bloated with gas and it was starting to bubble away inside.

I have been planning this day for a while now. Ever since I worked out my friend, Joel, had a fart fetish. At first I'd thought it was just the usual, gay guy fancying his straight best friend. I didn't mind, he was free to lust after my ass. Nothing would happen, but he was free to look. But I realised he liked it more than just to look at. I'm a gassy guy and my blasts can clear a room, but not Joel. He'd always make a comment on them. Hed sit on the floor next to me, said it was "more comfortable". No amount of farts would shift him. He'd just get closer through the night.

Now he'd never admit it to me, he was too shy. I felt bad for the guy. He didn't have much luck with pulling guys, maybe his fetish made it hard. So I'd decided to help him out. I planned a day of food that I knew would aggravate my stomach, get me all gassed up, and invited Joel over to watch a film.

He arrived on time, which was great because I could not hold these in for much longer. As he sat down in his usual spot on the floor I went to the TV and turned it on, making sure to silently release a fart and crop dust him as I walked past. He didn't say anything but I caught him staring at my ass as I passed. So on the way back to the sofa I turned and stood in front of him as I loaded Netflix, letting him get a good view.

Releasing another small silent fart, only this time in his face, I looked down. "Do you need anything?"

"No...no...I'm good. Shall we start the film?"

I sat down on the sofa next to him and pressed play. The film hadn't been going for more than 5mins when I let out an enormous fart.

PPPPPRRRRBBBBBB

After holding them in and only releasing the silent wisps so far, this one had erupted out. More than I'd planned.

"That was a big one!" Joel joked, laughing a little. "Gassy today? Thought I smelt one when you got up"

"Yeh, my stomach is rough. Sorry about that"

"It's fine. You know it doesn't bother me".

The smell of the fart lingered, it had a meaty scent, one of my better ones.

But I was just getting going. I let out a couple more silent ones to really fill the room. Letting Joel stew in my fumes. Never once saying anything. Happily sitting there, watching the film he'd say of course, but still he was inhaling pure methane. I knew my suspicions were right, no one else would have stayed in the room, let alone sit so close to the source.

It was time to push it. I let out a triple assault.

Prrrrbbbb

Pbbbbtttt

PPPBBTTT

Laughing as I unloaded I began wafting the air. "Oh man, they stink! Here, breathe through this", and I handed him a cushion of the other end of the couch.

Joel took it, faked using it as a mask for a second, then just gave me his innocent smile and placed it behind him. "Ha, thanks, but I'm fine, I'm used to your butt bombs".

Damn this guy loves my gas. Needed to crack him before I eventually ran out. I wanted him to openly embrace it, not just sneak sniffs from the side. I decided to give him a little treat to tide him over, until he was ready to open up.

The farts were now putrid, even for me and I'm used to my own flavour. The milk from the protein shake was really kicking in. But I was able to let out some quiet wet ones. I moved the cushion next to me down a bit so half of it was under my ass. Then for 10mins released a constant stream of silent farts on to it.

Casually I pulled it out and passed it to Joel, need another cushion? I could feel how warm it was from the farts and being flattened under my big ass.

Joel looked like he was going to decline it, then the smell must have hit him. Could have sworn his eyes glazed over, he took it and placed it behind his head but turning so his face was pressed up against the scented fabric. He wasn't even facing the film now.

I watched as huffed on the cushion, away in his own little world. The first cushion he had behind his back was pulled out and placed over his crotch to cover, I assume, evidence he was pitching a tent. I was thrilled.

"Hey, Joel, I have a gift for you"

"What is..." Joel began before being interrupted as I slid down the sofa and turned so his face was mms from my hole

PPPPPRRRRBBBBBB

My fart exploded in his face. I swear it blew his hair.

Joel looked shocked. "Damn, man, what you do that for?"

"It was a gift, I knew you'd like it"

"I don't like your farts"

"Sure you do! You're always sitting next to me, despite how gassy I am. Tonight I have been actively butt bombing this room and you have been vaccuming them all up. Plus you have been glued to a literal fart cushion for 10mins. Mate I paused the film and you never noticed!"

It was quite cute to see him get all flustered. He went a little red too.

"I don't...I just don't mind..."

"Don't worry about it" I said. "It doesn't bother me. I mean I've had no issue when you walked behind me on the stairs so you can stare at my fat ass, though I suppose you were back there sniffing it secretly. I don't mind when you make jokes about it. We're friends, it's just fun for me, and something you really want."

Joel didn't say anything, I may have doubted my instinct had it not been for one fact. He still hadn't moved. My ass remained hovering inches from his face.

"Honestly, just admit..."

Prrrbbb

"...you have..."

Pffftttt

"...a fart fetish".

PPRRRRRRPPPBBBBB

With each toxic blast Joel closed his eyes and sniffed deeply. When the last fart ended he looked up at me. Eyes watering. Clearly conflicted to unload his biggest secret. As seconds ticked like an eternity, the silence lingering along with the smell of my farts in the air, Joel eventually reached for his cock and gave it a gentle squeeze. I could see it pressed hard against the waistband of his jeans. That moment of pleasure must have tipped him over, he looked at my ass and whispered, "I have a fart fetish". And with that he dove in, sniffing the back of my joggers and getting his nose up in my crack. "Thank you!"

I lay there, proud of myself as Joel pigged out. "You're welcome...

PPPPPRRRRRRTTTTTTT

...what are friends for?"

#fart story #fart kink #gay eproctophilia #male farts #face fart #gay fart

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kpop---scenarios · 3 months ago

Text

Dark Book Series (1) - Masked

Pairing: Lee Felix x Reader

Warning: A lot of mentions of murder, blood, and smut. [18+ ONLY. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT]

Word Count: 5.4k

Taglist: @velvetmoonlght @skittlez-area512 @skzdust @gnabnahcsworld @onlyhyunjin @stephanieeeyang @lostasoulinthedarkness @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @iam-wh0

@ayyonoona

“You're not still seeing Felix are you?” Your best friend, Yujin asks, switching her load of laundry from the washer and putting it into the dryer.

You turn your head to look at her and laugh. “Yeah.” You smile. “We've been seeing each other for a few months. Why?” You ask, also switching your load. She was only at the laundromat with you because the machines in your building broke and your landlord is too much of a cheap ass to get them fixed. Though Yunjin has her own home, the both of you prefer the bulky washer and dryer at the shop, so you can do a bigger load.

She bites her lip, glancing down at her phone, typing things in, holding it to her chest as she speaks. “Listen… I'm not saying it's him for sure. But you remember that coworker you were having issues with? June?” She mumbles.

“Oh my god! June!” You exclaim. “Look at this.” You say, waving her over. June rolls her eyes as she gets up from her desk, shuffling over to you.

“What?” She snaps.

“We overpaid to the LCC. Look. Like, 8 thousand dollars too much.” You say, pointing to the payment total. “I'll go tell Soobin.” You say, pushing away from your desk.

“No!” She yells. “I'm already up, I'll go tell him.” She finishes, walking away from your desk. You watch her walk over there, faintly hearing every few words she tells him.

“Overpaid…8 thousand… Y/N.” Oh good. She mentioned it was you who found it. You were worried for a second that she would try to take the credit. She had been absolutely fucking awful to you as a mentor the last few months. Nothing you did was ever good enough in her eyes, even the teeniest, tiniest mistake, she pointed out, rather loudly, calling you an idiot. This happened on multiple occasions.

“Y/N.” Soobin calls out. “My office, please.” He says, gesturing June into his office, just as you see your department head walking straight towards Soobin's office. This made your stomach turn. What was going on?

You got up from your chair, making your way down the little corridor hallway down to his office, behind the head of the department. You step inside, closing the door, taking the last seat available as everyone stares at you.

“What happened with the LCC?” Mr. Jung, the head of the department, asks you.

“I was just relooking at the invoice today and noticed that it was overpaid.”

“By 8 thousand dollars?” He asks. “Who paid them?”

“June did.” You say, gesturing to her. She scoffs at you.

“I'm not an idiot like you, Y/N. I would never overpay like that.” She says. “Y/N paid the invoice.” She says, smirking at you.

“W-what?” You gasp. “No I didn't. It has June's name on it.”

“Do you even know how to read?” June laughs. “Who hired this one?” She chuckles, looking between Soobin and Mr. Jung.

“You liar!” You snap. You can feel the tears brimming in your eyes.

“Y/N, enough.” Mr. Jung says. “We will conduct our own investigation. You both enjoy the rest of your day. It's 5 pm, so go home.” He finishes. You stand up first, walking out of the office, while June calls your name, but you ignore her. You didn't want to deal with her, only thinking about the fact that your new boyfriend was down on the sidewalk waiting for you.

As fast as you can, you gather your belongings, unfortunately still meeting June at the elevator. The ride down to the ground floor is quiet. You can feel your ears turning red as you fume. The bell dings, opening the door, and you walk out quickly, not bothering to hold the door for June. The second you see Felix, it's like a sense of relief washed over you. You walk straight to him, his arms wrapping around you, holding you closely.

“June's a bitch.” You mumble into him, just as the door opens, out walking the bitch herself.

“Can you take your PDA elsewhere?” She scoffs. “No one wants to see that.”

“I'm going to guess you're June.” Felix says, pulling away from you.

“I-I am.” She says.

“Nice to meet you. I'm Y/N’s boyfriend, Felix.” He says, extending his hand. She shakes it, but winces. You not noticing how hard Felix was squeezing it. “I hope you're treating my girl well.” He finishes, releasing her hand. She nods her head, wiggling her fingers as she walks away.

“I don't like her.” Felix laughs, opening the car door for you.

“Mhm, me either.” You mumble, getting into the passenger seat. Not noticing the smile that spread across Felix’s lips as he made his way to the driver's seat.

“Yeah? What about her?” You ask, feeling nervous. You glance around the laundry shop, it's quiet for a Saturday night.

Yujin turns her phone screen to face you, showing you the latest news article.

“Woman - 57, Found Dead In The Park.” You mutter, scrolling down slightly. “June Erikson, 57 who was an employee at JPH accounting, Found dead this morning from multiple stab wounds…” You trail off.

Yujin looks at you with wide eyes, placing her phone back in her lap. “That's so sad. Oh my god. I feel awful for her family.” You sigh.

“That's it?” Yujin exclaims. “That's how you react to that news?” She asks.

“I'm sorry?” You say. “How am I supposed to react?”

“You're supposed to be scared!” Yujin yells. “Felix did this!”

“What? Why?” You laugh. “Do you know something I don't?”

“I'm telling you, Y/N. It was Felix. You complained about her a lot. Think about it.”

“Oh my god. I can't deal with her anymore!” You exclaim to Felix. “Everyday it's something.”

“Baby, it's only Monday.” Felix laughs. “What happened?”

“She told everyone that I fucked up an account, and it wasnt me! I don't even have access to that account!” You whine.

“Just breathe, baby. Tomorrow will be better.” He says, placing a kiss on your lips.

“So how was it today?” Felix asks, as you slide into the car.

You sit there with your arms crossed, sniffling. You're trying not to cry but June was horrendous to you and you hated her so much.

“Maybe tomorrow.” Felix sighs, resting his hand on your thigh as he drives away from your work.

The next three days were all the same. June was relentless to you, she never let up, she was never nice and you so desperately wanted to quit even though you absolutely loved your job. She was just the worst part of it the entire thing.

“Oh babe.” He sighs, wrapping you in a hug. “You won't have to worry about her for much longer.” He smiles.

“Okay?” You laugh, rolling your eyes. “I complained about her to you as well. Are you sure you didn't kill her?” You ask.

“You know I'd never do that!” She scoffs.

“Just like I know he wouldn't do that either.” You sigh. “You really gotta stop this.”

“I'm sorry, I don't believe it wasn't him. Remember the night you met?” She asks.

It never fails, Anything Felix does or says has her bringing up that night.

“Fuck men!” You scream, your friends dragging you down the street, as you all drunkenly laugh, enjoying your night out. You had just broken up with your last boyfriend, a real piece of shit, and you were so happy to be free, and able to have fun and do what you want.

“Fuck you, bitch!” Some man yells, glaring towards you and your friends.

“Aww, did that upset you? Someone's got small dick syndrome.” You laugh, yelling back as they try to drag you away.

“The fuck did you say to me?” He screams, rushing towards you. He stomps towards you, screaming, spit flying from his mouth as he approaches you, waving his finger. You close your eyes, tensing up as you wait for some sort of impact, but it doesn't come. You open one eye, peaking out, seeing a man standing in front of you, the man who was previously screaming at you, stopped in his tracks.

“You better watch what the fuck is gonna come out of your mouth next.” he snaps, no hint of humor in his very deep voice.

“This doesn't involve you.” The man scoffs, trying to move past the man who was helping you. He doesn't get very far, the man helping you, grabs the other by the collar, pulling him in close.

“You take one more fucking step, and I'll kill you and your whole fucking family. Understood?” He asks.

The man looks at you, muttering something about you not being worth it, before pushing the man off of him, turning around to go back to his friends.

The man who helped you turned around, and you felt like you had died and gone to heaven. He was the most attractive man you had ever seen. Blonde hair slicked back, dark eyes and a sinister smile.

Just your type.

“Thank you…” You trail off, unable to take your eyes off him.

“Felix.” He laughs.

“Thank you, Felix.” You smile, slowly shaking his hand. You were so mesmerized by him, you couldn't look away.

“Y/N…” Your friend, Jennie, urges, grabbing your shoulders.

“Come on. Let's go.” Jisoo whispers, pulling on your other hand.

You smile at Felix, walking backwards with your friends, still staring at him as he smiles, watching you walk away. From that moment on, you knew he'd be yours.

“That was fucking weird.” Yujin says, laughing. You can tell it's her uncomfortable laugh, she didn't like him right off the bat.

“It was hot.” You say.

“You're a psychopath.” Yujin shivers.

“He was just trying to protect me. And you, Jennie and Jisoo. He's not a bad man. I don't know why you can't just look past that.” You huff, grabbing your clothes from the dryer. “Look, I gotta go. Felix is waiting for me. Just please try to give him a chance?” You half smile, leaning in for a quick side hug, hoping things between her and Felix would get better.

A few weeks later, Jennie, Yujin and Jisoo had finally agreed to go out with you and Felix. You were so excited that all your favorite people were going to be in the same room, getting to know each other and hopefully finally getting along.

“I don't know why she doesn't like me.” Felix sighs, the two of you sit in a quiet pub where the music isn't as loud, people are calmer and the atmosphere is a little more relaxed.

“She will babe, I promise.” You smile at him, grabbing his hand. “Tonight she'll see how great you are.” You finish, leaning in for a quick kiss.you hear the bells on the door ringing, along with loud chatter. You can already tell it was your friends coming in. You turn around smiling and waving them over to the table, you and Felix already were sat at.

“Hi guys.” You smile as they all sit across the table from you two. “What's going on?” You ask.

“Jennie was just telling us about Hyunjin, she thinks he's going to propose.” Jisoo giggles. Your mouth drips as you grab her hands.

“Oh my god! That's so exciting!” You shriek. “Aw, you'd make the most beautiful bride.” You gush. You glance over at Felix, who's smiling, watching you with your friends.

“Sorry babe.” You laugh. “I’d officially like you guys to meet Felix.” You say, pointing to him. “Felix, this is Yujin who you sort of know, Jisoo and Jennie.” You say, pointing out each one. Felix stands up, shaking each one of the other hands, Jennie and Jisoo giggling as they look at him, but Yujin is straight faced, giving him a little smile.

She was going to be tougher than you thought.

“What do you guys want to drink?” You ask. They all give you their drink orders, Felix slides you his card with a wink, as he begins to talk to your friends, Jennie and Jisoo already immersed in the conversation as Yujin sits back with her arms crossed, observing the interactions.

“Hi.” You smile at the bartender. “Can I get 3 vodka crans, one vodka and sprite, a rum and coke and then 5 shots of tequila please?” You ask, setting down Felix’s card.

“Need some help, darling?” You hear a deep voice from behind you. You smile, turning around, expecting to see Felix but instead you're met with the face of a man you don't know.

“No thank you.” You say politely, grabbing a few drinks, taking them to your table and heading back to the bar for the rest.

“You sure? A pretty girl like you can't do everything yourself.” He winks.

“I'm good. Thanks.” You say, grabbing the rest of the drinks. The man grabs your wrist, holding you in your spot. By the time you look up at him, Felix has already gotten up and made it to you, grabbing the man's arm and pulling it off of you.

“She said she was good, man. Take the hint.” Felix says, taking a few drinks from your hand, and moving out of the way for you to go first. You blush as you make your way back to your seat, Jisoo and Jennie giggling at the interaction that just happened.

You didn't notice Felix turning his head to glare at the man, but Yujin sure did. A few hours later, Felix gives you a long kiss, heading to the bathroom, while you girls drunkenly gush about anything and everything.

“Thoughts, feelings, concerns?” You ask, as soon as Felix is out of ear shot.

“I like him!” Jennie exclaims.

“Me too!” Jisoo smiles.

“I don't like him.” Yujin yawns. “He's fake. He's acting and I don't fucking like it.” She snaps.

“You're never going to be happy for me, are you?” you sigh, feeling slightly defeated.

A few minutes of silence later, Felix wanders back from the bathroom, rubbing his hand along your back. “You ready, baby?” He asks, letting out a yawn.

“Absolutely.” You smile. “Thank you girls for coming out tonight. Let's do it again soon!” You smile, but give Yujin a little glare before you slide your fingers in between Felix’s.

“It was really nice to meet you guys. Thanks for a great night.” Felix smiles towards all three of the women. Jisoo and Jennie wave to you both, while Yujin keeps her arms crossed, avoiding eye contact.

“I'd say that went well.” Felix smiles at you, as you both pass the alley on your way home. You don't have the heart to tell him what Yujin said.

“I think so too.”

The next morning you woke up to a few missed calls and texts from Yujin. You open one eye trying to focus without closing your eye, until the headline she texted you catches your eye.

“Man Found Dead Outside Local Pub.” You read.

You dial Yujin's number, rubbing the bridge of your nose as you wait for her to answer.

“Did you read the article?” She asks, answering the phone.

“Yeah?” You say. “Who is that?”

“The guy from the bar!” She yells. You crawl out of bed, careful not to wake Felix as you shuffle to the bathroom.

“What guy?” You ask, quietly closing the bathroom door.

“The one that came up to you when you were getting drinks.” She harshly whispers. “He was murdered. Just like June!”

“Okay? So there's a killer out there. Honestly Yujin. I appreciate you looking out for me, but this really is getting tiring. You don't spend time with him like I do. You don't know him.” You sigh.

This shit was giving you a headache.

“I'm just trying to protect you!” She yells.

“Seems like the only person I need protecting from is you. You're trying to ruin what is probably the best relationship that I've ever had. Enough.” You snap, ending the call.

After that day, Yujin had gotten to Jennie and Jisoo, and their once fondness for Felix, turned into hate awfully quickly, and you hated it. You truly did not understand where they were coming from. He didn't hit you, he didn't yell at you and call you names. He treated you like a princess, listened to you, cheered you up, he baked for you. He was everything you ever wanted and more, and there was absolutely no way you were going to let your friends ruin this relationship for you. So you stopped going out with them, you responded to calls and texts but not in the same way you did before. Your responses were dry, responding with the bare minimum answers and you knew they knew that you were disappointed but they were still your friends and you were still going to try to get them to see Felix the way you did.

“I just don't get it.” You whine to Jennie and Jisoo. “You guys loved him when you met him.”

“He was great…he might still be but like… Yujin had some really good points too. It's only been like, what, 5 months of the two of you dating and two people that have come into contact with you have died?” Jennie says.

“It's kinda crazy.” Jisoo adds.

“So is thinking that Felix is the kind of man who goes around murdering people.” You scoff. “That's kind of a stretch, don't you think?”

“Is it?” Jisoo asks.

You let out a long sigh. You were so frustrated with how they were acting but unfortunately you weren't able to control the way other people react.

“Come on.” Jennie smiles. “Yujin is waiting at the bar.” She finishes, pulling your hand. Felix had gone out with some of his friends, which had led you to deciding to go out with yours, but you had a feeling you were going to regret it.

And you did.

“Y/N!” Yujin smiles, standing up to hug you. She was surrounded by four men when the three of you walked into the bar. “I'm so glad you came. I've missed you.”

You smile back at her.

“I missed you too.” You say, wrapping your arms around her, hugging her back.

“Come, sit, meet some people.” She murmurs, pulling you down beside her.

“This is Yunho, San, Hongjoong, and Mingi.” She says, pointing to each handsome man sitting around the table. You give them each a small smile and a wave, feeling uncomfortable, almost like this was set up, for you specifically.

“So, Y/N.” Mingi smiles. “What do you do for work?” He asks.

“I uh, working at an accounting firm.” You respond, taking a sip of your drink. “What about you?”

“How's that? Fun? Boring?” He laughs. “The four of us are in a band.” He smiles, motioning between himself and the other three.

“That's cool.” You respond, trying to catch the attention of Yujin.

“Would you… Maybe wanna get out of here? Go somewhere more private to get to know each other?” Mingi asks. You raise your eyebrow as you stare at him.

“What did Yujin tell you this was?” You ask.

Mingi laughs. “To be honest, she thought we would mesh well. This is like a blind date… Isn't it?”

“I have a boyfriend.” You say, sliding your chair back, standing up and walking towards Yujin who had moved down towards Hongjoong. “Seriously?” You snap, grabbing her arm.

“What?” She asks, trying to play innocent.

“Don't. Don't do that innocent act shit. A blind date, Yujin? Really?” You respond.

She throws her hands up in frustration. “Would you have come if I told you?” She asks.

“Obviously not.” You spit.

“Exactly! There's better out there for you! You just needed to be shown.” She smiles.

“I'm not leaving Felix for Mingi.” You say. “He seems lovely, but I'm happy. Why can't you get that through your head?”

“Because!” She yells. “How can you be in love with a murderer!?”

“I can't. I can't do this with you anymore.” You scoff. “I'm just done.” You finish, walking back to your chair to grab your bag. “I'm sorry Mingi, it was nice to meet you but I have to go.” You smile, grabbing your bag and walking out the door.

Yujin called and texted apologies everyday. For months. And you didn't respond to any of them, you were too mad and frustrated at her to respond calmly.

“Another text.” You sigh, looking down at your phone.

“Babe.” Felix pipes up. It had now been 3 months since you had spoken to Yujin. “I think you need to forgive her.” He says.

You look up at him, shocked. “What?”

“It's been months. How many times does she need to apologize for what she's done? She's your best friend.” He says.

“Yeah… but she set me up on a blind date, Felix. How could she think that's okay?” You ask.

“Because she's being protective of you. Like I am. Was I happy about it? Absolutely not. Do I understand where she was coming from? You bet.” He says. “She'll come around.” He smiles.

“What if she doesn't?” You ask.

“Then we'll make her.” He winks.

A few days later, you're sitting in Yujins house with her. All the crying, hugging was finally finished.

“Okay.” Yujin, sighs. “I know what your answer is probably going to be. But I'm going to invite you anyway because I love you and I hope you'll come.”

“Okay?” You laugh, raising your eyebrow, curious about what's going to come out of her mouth next.

“I'm having a Halloween party next weekend. Costumes, drinks, games, the works. I really hope you'll think about coming.” She smiles.

“Oh!” You exclaim, laughing. “That sounds fun! Felix loves Halloween and dressing up.” You laugh, pulling out your phone to text him.

Yunjin sits there silently for a second, you can see her face sort of contorting as she thinks about how to put her next sentence as delicately as she can. You already knew what she was going to say. It had been 9 months now, and she still didn't like him or trust him.

“Actually, I just meant I'd like you to come. I'm sorry, but he's not invited.” Yujin whispers, twiddling her thumbs together.

“Yujin. Did we not just have a whole episode of working things out?” You snap.

“Yeah we did and I'm grateful for that because I've missed you. But he's still as fucking weird, intense and controlling as he was that day!” She snaps. “You deserve better! But you keep getting with these fucking losers.”

“Controlling? You've met him like twice, and put in no effort, except to judge him. He's not controlling.” You sigh.

“Then why don't you ever come out anymore? We used to do fun things all the time.” She pouts.

“Because of you! And your lack of consideration for my relationship.” You snap. “If you had a little more respect for me and Felix, then maybe I would.”

“Yeah, sure. It's not him at all.” She scoffs.

“Okay, I'm gonna go. Text me the details for the party. I'll think about it.” You sigh, getting up off the couch and heading for the front door.

You already knew you'd be going to the party. You knew Felix would be joining you, and you were all going to have a great fucking time.

The next weekend, you showed up to the Halloween party in a full Harley Quinn costume. You thought you did an amazing job on the costume, and by your friends' reactions, they thought so too.

“I'm so happy you decided to come.” Yujin smiles, pulling you in for a hug.

“Yeah.” You laugh. “Me too.”

“So what's the plan?” You ask, grabbing a drink from the fridge.

“It's just gonna be us four for a few hours. We're gonna pregame until the party starts around nine!” She grins.

“That sounds perfect.” You smile, taking a sip of your drink.

“Jisoo!” Yujin calls out, you, Jennie and her gathered around the island in the kitchen, waiting for Jisoo to come downstairs.

“Should I go look for her?” Jennie asks.

Yujin sighs. “Yeah, I guess. She was done like 30 minutes ago, I don't know why she isn't down here already.”

Jennie leaves the kitchen, heading towards the stairs. You and Yujin are chatting about nothing, when you hear the start of a scream before it's cut off. You both look at eachother, walking forward, very slowly, your arms linked together.

“Jennie?” You call out, in a semi whisper. “Are you okay?”

You hear footsteps making their way down the stairs. Jennie rounds the corner, but she's not alone. Someone in a mask stands behind her, a knife placed to her throat.

“Jisoo? Did you completely change your costume?” Yujin laughs. “Scared the shit out of her, I didn't you?” She says to Jennie, who has tears rolling down her cheeks. She's trying to hold in her sobs as the person behind her cocks their head to the side.

Yujin realizes quickly that it's not Jisoo under the mask. “Who are you?” Yujin asks. “What do you want?”

No answer.

You and Yujin stand there, breathing heavily as Jennie mouths pleas to the two of you, begging you to help her.

“Just step away from h…” You begin, stepping forward. The knife is pulled away from her throat, she breathes a sigh of relief, hunching over as she tries to catch her breath. The person grabs onto her hair, yanking her back up before plunging the knife through her back, the tip poking out of her stomach.

“No!” You and Yujin scream in unison, watching your friend have the life taken from her.

She gasps and gargles as the knife is ripped out of her body and shoved in again, and again, and again, until she can no longer stand. The masked person shoves her lifeless body to the floor, blood pouring from her mouth and each wound, the blood pooling around her body on the floor.

Screams erupt from you and Yujin, tears spilling from your eyes. The two of you go through the double doors to the living room, both of you frantically trying to find your cell phones. Jennie's body is dragged into the living room, streaks of blood left on the floor as she's dropped near the two of you.

“Why are you doing this!?” Yujin screams. “Where's Jisoo!?”

The masked person walks towards you two, turning towards the closet in the hall, pointing there.

“No, No…She's dead.” You gasp, crying a little harder.

“What the fuck did we ever do to you!?” Yujin screams. You let go of her hand, walking towards the faceless person. “Y/N!” Yujin screams. “What are you doing!?” She panics.

As you get closer, the person begins to lift the mask, and you're met with the handsome face of your boyfriend.

“Felix?” She gasps. You turn around, looking horrified that it's your boyfriend. She was right.

Of course she was. He walks up behind you, placing the knife against your neck as he places a small kiss on the side of your neck.

“Please don't kill her.” Yujin cries.

“Oh.” You laugh, wiping away your tears. “He's not going to kill me.” You giggle, taking the drenched knife from his hands.

“Hi baby.” Felix whispers in your ear.

“W-what is happening?” Yujin gasps.

“You know, Yujin. I got really tired of you accusing Felix of being a murderer.” You laugh. “Even though you were spot on.”

“She was.” Felix laughs. “You should have been an investigative journalist or a police officer.”

“So he did kill those people! And you knew?” She asks, her face contorted into a disgusted look.

“Yes, and yes.” You laugh. “Your constant nagging was getting really annoying. So when I approached Felix about an idea I had, I knew he would be totally in.”

“You planned this?” She asks. “We're supposed to be best friends!”

“Yeah, supposed to be. But you just couldn't let me be happy! You really have no one else to blame but yourself.” You sigh. “But I also had a condition. Felix had to leave you…” You pause.

“Thank you… thank you… I'm not ready to die.” She sobs.

“Oh, honey, no.” You laugh. “He had to leave you for me.”

“What?” She whispers. You grip the knife in your hand, walking towards hers.

“If you had just left me alone this whole thing could have been avoided.” You sigh, grabbing her shoulder with one hand, forcing the knife into her stomach. She stares at you with wide eyes as you push the knife in a little harder.

“Oh baby.” You laugh. “You were right, this is fucking exhilarating.” You groan. You pull the knife from her stomach, ramming it in again in a new spot as her body begins to collapse.

You pull the knife out, your hand covered in blood as you drop the knife, watching Yujin slowly dying on the floor. She tries to speak but blood pours from her mouth.

“That was so fucking hot.” Felix groans, pulling you towards him. He plants his lips onto yours, thrusting his tongue into your mouth. Your bloody hand moves down to his crotch, feeling his already hard cock, growing even more.

“Fuck me.” You murmur.

Felix guides you to the couch, pushing you down onto the floor, your stomach laying on the couch. He flips up your skirt before quickly unbuttoning his pants, pulling out his cock. Felix rips your tights open in the back, kicking your knees apart to spread yourself more. He spits into his hand, gliding it up your cunt, shoving two fingers inside of you, making you cry out. Felix pumps his fingers a few times before he pulls them out, lubing up his cock with your juices. He quickly and harshly thrusts himself inside of you, grabbing your neck and squeezing. He pulls you up against him, his hot breath hitting your ear as he rams his cock inside of you.

“Did it feel good?” He groans. “Shoving that knife into her?” He gasps as you clench your cunt around him.

“So fucking good.” You cry out, reaching down between your lips to rub your clit.

“You looked so fucking sexy doing it.” Felix grunts, ramming his cock into you.

His hand tightens around your neck, squeezing harder, making you gasp for breath.

“I fucking love you so much.” He groans, fucking you harder. “Cum, baby. Cum.” He grunts. You move your fingers faster on your clit, your orgasm coming quickly.

He releases your throat, making you cough. “Fuck. I… love… you.” You scream, cumming hard onto his cock.

Felix grips your hips, thrusting into you harder and faster, cumming right after you, filling you all the way up.

He pulls out of you, tucking himself away before he helps you up, grabbing the knife from on the floor and bringing it to the kitchen. He slips it inside the backpack he stored in the closet, setting it by the door.

“Get ready to cry, baby.” Felix grins, grabbing his phone. You make your way to Yujin's body, sprawled out on the floor, forcing your tears to come.

“Help! Please help! Our friends were murdered!” Felix cries into the phone. “We're at 44776 Roadway Lane. Hurry!” He cries, hanging up the phone.

“Ready to put on the performance of a lifetime, baby?” He grins.

“With you, I'm ready for anything.” You smile, leaning over Yujin's body, forcing the tears from your eyes to fall as the sirens get louder and closer.

“Police!” They yell from outside the door.

“In here! Please.” You scream. The police rush in, seeing your distraught face hovering over your friend as Felix cries in the corner of the room.

“What happened?” One of the officers asks, pulling you away from the body.

“W-we… were having a Halloween party.” You sob. “The five of us… we were going to drink a little before it started later. Someone broke in… started stabbing them… we hid in the closet until we heard the person leave.” You cry.

“Do you have a description of the person?” The officer asks.

“No. We didn't see the person. The person was wearing a mask. And then we hid.” Felix cries.

“I'm so sorry.” The officer sighs. “Let's get you two checked out.”

Felix stands up, holding his hand out for you. You grab his hand, whimpering into his arm as the officer guides you out of the house. Felix grabs his backpack, and you both walk down the walk away, hand in hand, leaving the crime you committed behind you.

#straykidsland #felix smut #lee felix smut #serial killer #felix #murderer felix #dark book series skz #skz smut #stray kids smut #skz #stray kids #blood #gore #murder #smut

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undiscovered-horizon · 11 months ago

Text

Rainy Season - Morpheus x Reader

[Spoilers for Brief Lives I guess?]

[MASTERLIST] | [Sandman-inspired playlist]

SUMMARY: Fed up with Dream's stubborn and at times childish attitude, you leave Dreaming. But when Morpheus's sorrow makes itself known, Matthew has to fetch you before the kingdom completely floods.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 1.7k

It’s a tumultuous morning in the Dreaming. Even if none of the dreams and nightmares are privy to the ongoing feud, they know something is wrong. It’s as though the air in the kingdom, the marrow of their bones, turned bitter last night. Their skin is crawling but the sun is shining as it did yesterday. They birds chirp the same song they had throughout centuries. And yet, against their better judgment, something is terribly out of place.

To be honest, you don’t even remember how all of this started but the damage is already done.

A frustrated scream ripples through your chest, "The world doesn't revolve around you!" You're fuming. There's only so much patience one person can hold and recently, Morpheus had proven himself exceptional at trying to reach its limit until he, unfortunately, succeeded today. "For someone who's supposed to know every thought ever entertained, you sure can not look past the tip of your own nose."

His eyes, cold and hurt, stare at you in utter confusion. Dark eyebrows furrow. "I do not know what you're expecting of me,” he states in an angry voice. It appears that he really does not understand the reason for your outrage. "I am not human, I am unable to look at the world as you do."

Of course he says that, you think to yourself. It seems to be his favorite line of defense. Dream of the Endless is a strange, eldritch creature. He doesn’t comprehend the world like a mortal does and, or some reason, he treats this fact of nature as an excuse not to try. At first, you thought it charming - to see the universe through the eyes of a creature you can barely begin to understand. Who wouldn’t? The strange wonder of the man in front of you made you seek his company again and again. Truthfully, there’s something poetic about it: the reason you’ve come back to him so many times might be the very reason you bid him farewell. For good.

"Good news, then: you don't need a cardiovascular system to exercise empathy.” Your sarcastic tone has an effect on Morpheus. He frowns, hurt by your words, only to grow angry that he’s so affected. Dream’s pride makes him want to not be influenced by your bitterness. Alas, he cares more than he’s willing to admit. "Not everything is about you, Morpheus, and until you realize that, I don't think we've got more to talk about. Goodbye."

Even after you shut the door behind you, the word echoes through the castle. The stone walls seem to whisper it back to Morpheus, rubbing the salt in his wound. How strange it is - to be haunted by somebody still alive. To be the king of dreams and feel hopeless. It would be funny if it didn’t make him want to be unmade.

A thunder rolls. A blue lightning splits the sky in two. Despite the lovely weather in the morning, it starts to rain in the Dreaming.

The storm doesn’t stop after a few hours nor does it cease after a few days. Black clouds cover the sky as they did four days ago. The only change is in the water level: the kingdom is flooded. When everyone thought the rain is bound to stop soon, no one minded much the rising tide. However, when the situation only worsened with no evidence that it’s going to improve in the near future, worried voices started to reach Lucienne. If the storm doesn’t cease in the next day or two, some parts of the Dreaming will share the fate of Atlantis.

If Morpheus knew he was being observed, he didn’t show it. Perhaps he doesn’t feel up for another confrontation. In any event, he remains still, standing against the balcony reiling, as his friends begin plotting:

"How is he?" Matthew whispers to Lucienne. "Has he moved from there at all? Ate something? Said anything?"

"That's three 'no's, I'm afraid,” she answers slowly. The librarian lets out a heavy sigh. "He's just dramatically standing there, wallowing in pity."

Dream really is 'just standing there’. Drenched. His hair and clothes are stuck to his pasty skin. It can’t be comfortable but it would appear that matters other than cosiness are on his mind at the moment. For the past few days, ever since you left, he hasn’t moved even a quarter of an inch. Truthfully, he looks about as alive as a marble statue, if monuments could appear excruciatingly miserable.

"Should we do something?" The raven continues. What he really wants to ask is 'What should we do?’ but Lucienne seems to catch the undertone of his words nonetheless.

"You could ask her to come back but no guarantee she'll want to,” she thinks out loud. "They've fought before but this time she looked really defeated."

Morpheus, although doesn’t need to breathe, sighs loudly. As he exhales, another lightning tears the sky apart.

"Alright, I'll try to convince her to talk to him again,” Matthew states. His worried voice makes him sound determined to have the two of you reconcile. "Hopefully, we'll be back before you need a canoe."

Lucienne doesn’t respond. As much as she doesn’t want to admit to her pessimism, she knows better than to have much hope in the matter of Dream’s love life.

Repetitive tapping on the window diverts your attention from the dishes you were washing. Seeing the black bird sitting on the outside windowsill, you quickly wipe your hands against the dishrag and jog to open the window.

"Matthew?" you ask in surprise.

He wastes no time pleading his case in a plaintive tone. "You gotta go back to him. Everything's gone to shit."

You furrow your eyebrows. Leaning against the wall, you cross your arms on your chest. "What do you mean?"

The raven hops closer to you. "It's been pouring nonstop since you left. He's just standing there, soaking wet and he won't talk to anyone."

It might sound sadistic but it’s a nice thought that he’s grieving your departure so severely. For what it’s worth, it means he’s not as blase as he likes to appear. Perhaps, Morpheus cares about you more than you’re even aware of.

"How bad is it?" you ask warily.

"How bad?!" Matthew screeches. "The House of Mysteries is so flooded, Abel is fishing."

It sounds like 'bad' is nothing more than an elegant euphemism. In his heartache, Morpheus is willing to let Dreaming decay and fall into partial ruin. If your accusation had been correct and Dream of the Endless truly is unable to care about anyone but himself, such a disaster would never have happened. A selfish ruler wouldn’t let his realm turn to rubble because of a broken heart. And if you’re more important than what he calls home, then…

"I'm assuming that's not a usual feature,” you give the raven a half-hearted response. The thoughts inside your head are in a painful turmoil, trying to lift the truth out of the indications.

"Yeah," he answers sarcastically.

Matthew glares at you in anticipation. Perplexed, you rub your arm without thinking much about it. Right, it's the mature and responsible thing to do but at the same time, why do you have to be the one to cave in every time you two fall out? If Morpheus cares for you as much as his dramatic show of pain and grief would suggest, shouldn’t it be him travelling across world and realms to reach you?

The raven cocks his head. Something about the look in his eyes changes as though his frustration has faded away or grown into desperation if not powerlessness. He’s tired and out of options.

"Alright, let's go," you say with a sigh. "But no promises. I still have pride and self-respect and he's still a stubborn..." you take a deep breath, "nevermind. Let's just go."

Miserable.

That's the only word that comes to your mind as you stare at him from afar. One would think that an entity of his sort can not be or look miserable but maybe this world is even stranger than you've thought. His clothes are drenched to the point of being see-through. Dark, once-tussled hair is now stuck to his face and neck. Dream's body looks even more stringy as his head is hanging low between his shoulders.

The rain is almost deafening. Your cautious, hesitant footsteps shouldn't be audible and yet Morpheus turns around to look at you when you come closer.

"I didn't think you'd come back," he says in a low, groggy voice. Dream's eyes, once blue and cold, are now red and unsettlingly vacant. Has he been crying? "What do you want?"

You take a deep breath. It was vain to expect him to welcome you with open arms. An eldritch being with a bruised ego and a broken heart could never make for a hospitable host. Even to those whom he misses the most.

"I still stand by what I said, it's just..." you hang your voice for a moment to find the proper words. Seeing him so broken by your fight makes some part of you want to renounce everything that lead to your argument. Anything just for him to be alright again. But the more reasonable side of you knows that such an action would only hurt both of you in the long run. "I admit, I could have said it in a more civilized way. I'm sorry. You didn't deserve that harshness."

His gaze falls and Morpheus looks away for a moment.

Whether he's doing it consciously or not, the rainstorm ceases. Black clouds slowly drift away to uncover a clear, blue sky. Somewhere in the West, if there are cardinal directions in Dreaming, the sun is beginning to set. Despite the significant improvement, the air remains cold. A harsh wind nips at your drenched form. In a vain attempt to shield yourself from the discomfort of the weather, you put your arms around your torso. Still, your body trembles.

"Perhaps I should have put more effort into understanding your concern. I'm..." he turns silent for a second. His lips are apart but no sound is coming out of his mouth. Dream's hurt gaze meets yours. "Sorry," he whispers finally. Despite his voice being hardly audible, the weight of his confession is almost deafening.

"There's one more thing, Morpheus."

Those sad blue eyes stare at you in anticipation. The misery on his face makes you think that he's expecting to have his heart broken again, instead of mended.

A couple of grey clouds reappear above your heads. Oh no.

"I'm tired of always being the one to reach out," you confess. His gaze is too intense and you quickly look away from him. There's much on his mind. "No matter who's right or wrong, it's me who bridges the gap between us. Even if that angers me, I still do it. Every time. And I don't know what that says about me."

Your body trembles again but this time it doesn't go unnoticed by Morpheus. He, quite literally, pulls a coat out of thin air. Dream's movements are almost fearful as he cautiously places the garment around your shoulders.

"Perhaps in certain aspects, you are better than me," he answers quietly while fixing the coat to fit you better.

You know you're pushing your luck when you look at him again and ask a not-so-innocent question:

"You mean a 'better person'?"

"I'm not-" He bites his tongue just in time. Morpheus is not a person. Both of you are perfectly aware of it. But it was the mention of this very fact that had brought such disastrous rain to Dreaming. "Yes. A better person."

There's not much conviction in his words but there is, however, a silent promise to find it.

______

Now that I’m in mourning, I thought it fitting to finish reading "Brief Lives" and the bittersweetness of it felt all the more pronounced. Reading it prompted me to rewatch the show and long story short I’m kind of back in my Sandman feels.

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fox-bee926 · 1 year ago

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Who did this?

Harvey Specter x fem!reader

Masterlist A/N: Wow another one? I'm going to do one more after this and then answer an ask and put all my harvey fics on one post. Then after that who knows. I have an awesome aragorn x reader fic I've been playing around with so I might work on that. Definitely going to try and do more one shots to improve my writing. I really enjoy it but depression makes it a tad hard. Anyways! Enjoy! TW: **This story focuses on the physical abuse between the Reader character and her boyfriend. I am not responsible for the content you consume so please be advised. There are explanations of abuse, but no explicit scenes of abuse occurring.** abuse (physical and emotional), hurt/comfort, Harvey being very sweet, mention of painkillers but I'm talking like 2 tylenol or ibuprofen or something Word Count: 2.5k

You run across the street to the Pearson Hardman office building, just about soaking wet. All that protected you from the rain was a newspaper you bought right outside your building. You prayed all the way to work that it wouldn’t just completely break under the force of the rain. You had spent almost thirty minutes on makeup, twenty five more minutes than you usually spend. To go along with that, you couldn’t find an available taxi because of the rain. Not even the pain in your shoulder had let up, despite taking a couple painkillers.

Your boyfriend had gotten a bit angry with you last night after you went out socializing with some friends. It wasn’t your smartest move. You knew he didn’t like you to hang out with your guy friends without his permission. But you didn’t think it was that big of a deal. The feelings of your heart conflicted with your rational mind. All you know is you love him and he loves you. Which is why he gets upset when you go out without him. But then why wouldn’t he make time to go out with me alone?

You shook those thoughts out of your head as you swiped your card into the building. You took the time in the elevator to dry off with your sweater. Which was consequently soaked. Curses rang out in the elevator- cursing the sweater, the weather, your boyfriend, you didn’t know.

You sat down in the chair next to Donna and exchanged greetings. “How are we looking today, Donna?” You smiled as you saw Harvey sitting in his office. The only person getting into the office earlier than him was Donna.

“Full day as always. Oh, Jonathan from accounting asked for Harvey to look at his expense accounts for this last month. He won’t of course- but as long as they get to Harvey’s desk, Jon won’t speak another word about it until the next thousand dollar dinner with a client.” Donna goes back to typing rapidly on her computer.

“And then the cycle continues,” You let out a hearty laugh for the first time since you left work last Friday. “I’ll get on that. Anything else while I’m in accounting?” You gather up different file folders that you need to take down to accounting anyway.

“Nope, say hi to Mr. Expense Forms for me!”

“Will do, Donna.”

You quickly walk to the elevator and down to the accounting department for Jonathan's expense reports. Harvey is still in the same spot as he was when you left as you open the door to his office. You make sure to open the door with your left arm, with the papers in your right.

“I got a delivery for Harvey Specter from Mr. Jonathan Expense Forms from accounting. Fuming as always. You might want to lay off the fancy dinners for a week.” Harvey rolls his eyes at the notion.

“Sweetheart, you think I’m that good at my job that I don’t need fancy dinners to win over clients? You must think very highly of me.” He chuckles smugly as he writes words you can barely read on a legal pad. You deal his snark back just the same.

“Of course I think you’re good. You’re my boss, I’m legally obligated to think so.” You both laugh until you reach with your right arm to set the folder on his desk. You let out a noise just loud enough for Harvey to be concerned.

“What happened to your shoulder?”

“It’s nothing, I just fell.”

At this, Harvey looks up. You were never one to be clumsy, let alone fall so hard as to hurt yourself. As Harvey’s eyes assess you, he notices a large dark bruise on your wrist- both your wrists in fact.

His silence worries you, and you follow his eyes to your wrists. “Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry-” You quickly try to pull your sleeves down to cover the spots. Remnants of rain water drove through the foundation.

Harvey takes a few deep breaths as you stand there in shocked silence. For the smallest second, you think he’s going to hurt you. Rationally, you know the notion is absurd, but the mind that has dealt with angry men keeps you silent.

Harvey finally speaks after taking a minute to process the information he’s pieced together.

“Who did this to you?”

You’re taken aback, that small part of your mind thinking he would call you unprofessional or weak. “My... My boyfriend. He just gets a little annoyed with me sometimes. It’s truly nothing. I’ll do better to cover them-”

“A good man being annoyed never results in bruises. How did this happen?” Harvey has to go against every part of his nature not to rush out and ask Donna everything about this man, then subsequently find him. He’s thinking that those boxing lessons are actually going to come in handy.

But he knows he can’t. He knows that if he moves like that, or moves at all, he’d terrify you. He can see how your eyes dart around. Towards the door, towards your wrists, and towards himself. He didn’t know how you would react if he even stood up.

“I fell into a bookshelf. He pushed me a bit and I lost balance.”

“You mean he shoved you into a shelf.”

The way Harvey phrased it made you feel uncomfortable. “That’s a bit harsh, but you could phrase it like that.”

He stared at you in disbelief. This wasn’t the woman he saw on a daily basis. The woman that dealt with almost every slimy man that came into the building. The woman that he had slowly fallen in love with since she arrived here.

The woman before him seemed like a shell of the woman he met three years ago, and he couldn’t help what came out of his mouth next.

“Do you know how you sound? You should never be bruised, shoved, or red eyed if you’re in love. That’s simply not how it is, and I’m sorry you’ve been made to believe that.”

At this, the dam broke.

Tears had been pooling in your eyes from the moment Harvey saw the bruises. But at his last words you let out a pained sob. It hadn't sunk in just how bad it had gotten. Your boyfriend had done this a few times before, but had never gotten so harsh until last night.

All the pain from the last year had come rushing in, and you were about to break right in front of your boss. Heavy tears started to run down your face. It was at this moment you were glad you never wore heavy makeup. You did your best to stifle the sounds and cries that tried to escape, but outside, Donna still saw through the glass.

Immediately, Donna calmly walks in. She takes one look at you, then Harvey. With a single nod from Harvey, Donna lets out a quiet "Car is on its way."

Unfortunately that made you feel even worse. "I'm so sorry, Harvey. This is completely unprofessional-"

Harvey finally stands up and walks towards you. At this point, what you need isn't space. He places his hands as gentle as can be on your arms to coax you to look at him. And you do, but looking at your red eyes and wet tears streaming down your face up close make his heart break even more.

"I don't give a shit about professionalism. Donna is getting the car and my driver is going to take you home-"

"No! He's there, he's been trying to move in with me and doesn't have a day job. He's just been staying there..." Your sentence trails off as you’re trying to process what you’re actually saying. Are you really doing this?

"Okay, then my driver will take you to my place and give you a key. We'll talk about the next steps when I get home. I'll get you some things from your apartment, okay?"

The tears were gone purely by witnessing Harvey be so calm, and you nodded slowly. All you could do was follow the sound of his voice. Like a lighthouse in a raging storm.

Donna entered the room quietly, "The car is here."

"Good. Donna will walk you out." You nodded, not saying a word. You turn to walk out of Harvey’s office, but he reaches out for your hand. “You’ll get through this, alright?”

You give a small smile. However, your mental state did not display the same sentiment. Your mind was reeling from what had happened in the last- what, 10? 15 minutes?

Donna leads you out the back staircase as a gesture of mercy. She knew that you didn’t want anyone else to see you like this. Harvey wasn’t exaggerating his view of you. Everyone in the office saw you as an unbreakable force.

Harvey’s driver opens the door for you. You look back at Donna, who is smiling sweetly. “I promise, Harvey will take care of everything. The only thing you need to worry about is taking care of yourself, okay?”

You gave Donna the same small smile you gave Harvey. You were at the edge of your sanity at this point. Now that you’ve gone through all the sadness and shock of the... situation, you were embarrassed. Angry. Angry at yourself for letting a man put his hands on you for a full year. Angry at Donna for knowing exactly what was going on and getting exactly what was needed. Angry at Harvey Specter for being so goddamn perfect that you couldn’t help the butterflies that always arose in your stomach whenever he talked to you. Angry at the world for putting you in this position.

Wordlessly, you exited the car once it stopped in front of Harvey’s building. You reached his apartment without thought. You took your heels off, and put your purse on the closest counter you saw.

And you cried.

_______

Harvey exited the elevator with a large box held in his hands. It was purely full of necessities. A week's change of clothes, toiletries, some books he knew were your favorite. Everything else he could buy new. He looked down and saw your heels on the ground and your purse on the table beside him.

Once he set down the box on the floor, he saw you. You looked even worse than at the office. Your beautiful hair was frizzy and pulled in odd directions. The worst part was the absolutely destroyed look on your face. Eyeshadow and liner were smudged on your red tinged eyes which stared into space in front of you.

Harvey sees your body stiff as a board on the edge of his soft couch, seemingly ready to run at a moment’s thought. “Have you been sitting like that since you got here?”

“No. I’ve only just sat down.” Your arms leaned on your knees, hands folded in your lap.

Harvey tries to ignore the hoarse sound in your voice. “Well, you can relax a bit if you’d like. I got you some more comfortable clothes if you want to change.”

Your brows furrow as you think. “Did he give you any problems?” For the first time since he came in the front door you look at him. He was visibly more relaxed than he is in the office. His suit jacket was tossed on the coat rake next to the door and the sleeves of his dress shirt were neatly folded up his arms. He walked towards the kitchen to the freezer.

“He didn’t get a chance. Don’t worry, he won’t hurt you again.” He walks over to where you’re sitting on the couch and sets down an ice pack. His shirt was obviously wrinkled, and his knuckles held the slightest tinge of blue. The thought of Harvey hurting someone made your stomach flip, but you didn’t feel quite so bad for the receiving party.

“Let’s get some ice on that shoulder, huh?” He could tell you were still sensitive, but it felt more subdued than the scared woman he saw in his office.

You nodded in agreement about the ice pack. You hadn’t really stopped to think about it until he said something. As you unbutton your shirt to reveal your nude colored undershirt, you wince. The swelling of the bruise had gotten worse since you hadn’t taken anything for it. You hadn’t noticed the pain when you were crying, but now it just felt terrible.

“Let me help.” You give Harvey a look when the words come out of his mouth, a glimpse of that fiery woman that he knows. But you sigh and relent. You managed to undo a few buttons at least before Harvey steps in.

He unbuttons your shirt down to your stomach and pulls the shoulder of the shirt down just enough to slide the ice pack onto the skin. As soon as it’s securely placed between you and the couch, you let out a groan. In relief or pain, you don’t know. All you knew was that the cold felt absolutely wonderful on your swelled skin.

You and Harvey stay like that for a while, the exact amount of minutes you don’t know and neither does he. Harvey is the first to speak.

“You’ve been awfully quiet.”

You give him a look that says “I wonder why, dumbass.” But you refrain. “I’m thinking.”

He finally sits next to you on the couch and reaches his arm to grasp the top of the cushions. In his mind he excuses it as getting more comfortable, but the opportunity to touch you is also a bonus. Harvey was not a man of wise words for comfort, moreso actions and touch.

In a singsong voice, trying to lighten the mood, he says “Whatcha thinkin’ about.”

You smile a true smile and look towards him. Then the thoughts in your head come rushing in and the smile falls from your face. “I’m thinking about how I’ve been with him for so long that I don’t know how to live my life without him. So much of my life has been conforming to his ideals, his feelings. How am I supposed to love and be loved after him? After I’ve split my soul into so many pieces that I’ve lost track of where they all are?”

Both of you sit in silence, not sure what to say.

“I was definitely not expecting that.”

“I am... extremely sorry I said that, please just ignore-”

“I wasn’t finished, sweetheart. Firstly, I think you should see a professional about these feelings. But in the meantime, we can work on that together.” Harvey smiles, but then falters. “I- I mean, if you want. I’m not trying to get in your pants, I promise, all I’m saying is that I’m here whenever and you can stay as long as you want and-”

“Thank you, Harvey. It means a lot to hear you say that.” You laugh at the sight of a flustered Harvey Specter.

“To paraphrase, you're not alone in this. Not ever.”

You reach over with your good arm and pull him into as much of a hug as you can muster. In return, he pulls you close. Neither of you ever want to leave.

#xreader #harvey specter #harvey specter x reader #harvey specter x fem!reader #fanfiction #fics by foxbee #suits #fics #harvey specter/reader #harveyspecter/fem!reader #harvey specter/you

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pickingupmymercedes · 7 months ago

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Thank you, for everything (it takes a village) - Lewis Hamilton ft. Ayrton Senna

Little something for the 30th Anniversary of Senna's legacy

pairing: Senna! Reader X Lewis Hamilton

warnings: mentions of death, mourning, 30th anniversary of Senna's legacy

wordcount: +4k

song: In your arms - Birdy

a/n: People in Brasil don't say is the anniversary of his death but rather of his legacy, and it's such a beautiful way to see it. I hope Ayrton knows, wherever he is, how loved he still is.

a/n.2: Ayrton was known as Beco/Becão by his family and friends

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi! (Also, my written portuguese is a bit rusty, so if there's anything weird, please let me know)

______________________________________________________________

When hope went away I still held on, to the love that you gave, it’s all I’ve got of you now. I will never know you, don’t get to understand, no answers to questions. It’s too late for that. But I was in your arms, once

A pre-dawn Miami humidity clung to y/n like a second skin, even inside the automatically cooled hotel room. The city slept, but the salty air carried a raw energy that mirrored the turmoil brewing within her. Today, the 1st of May, was a day she always needed to face alone.

She laid there, staring at the ceiling, the weight growing with each passing moment. Today, the air itself seemed thick with an unspoken grief, a shared memory of loss that resonated across the globe. 30 years. Three decades since the world had watched in horror as lives changed forever, hers included.

The sheets felt too restrictive, the silence too loud. Pulling them back, she tiptoed past the rumpled form of Lewis, still fast asleep. He'd offered to come with her, to run by the beach together, but she needed this. Needed the solitude, the rhythmic pounding of her feet against the pavement to chase away the ghosts of a past she barely remembered.

Miami slept, bathed in the faint glow of pre-dawn light, but Y/N felt wide awake, her mind a whirlwind of emotions. Stepping out onto the balcony, the salty air stung her eyes. Taking a deep breath, she gazed out at the vast expanse of the ocean, the darkness slowly giving way to a canvas of vibrant oranges and pinks.

A single tear traced a path down her cheek, a silent tribute to a love stolen too soon. Every year on this day, it was as if the world held its breath, waiting for her grief to surface. This anniversary wasn't a celebration; it was a stark reminder of the void that had forever shaped her life.

The need to move, to outrun the memories that threatened to consume her, became an insistent ache. With each step, a memory flickered to life, but one always stood out the most, the one few people knew of.

She was four, piloting her tiny kart around a makeshift track at Interlagos. The familiar scent of burnt rubber and exhaust fumes flooded her senses, transporting her back to a time before tragedy struck. Y/n grinned, her hair whipping in the wind, as she pushed her little kart to its limits.

A wild turn, a sickening jolt, and the world tilted sideways. Then, strong arms scooped her up. "Tudo bem aí, filha?" (Everything okay there, darling?) Her father's voice, warm and reassuring. He checked her over, a playful glint in his dark brown eyes. "Você tava indo bem, se assustou?" (You were doing great, did you scare yourself?)

Y/n shook her head, a defiant tear clinging to her cheek. “Eu acho que tá bom por hoje já.” (I think that’s enough for today) Ayrton ruffled her hair, a conforting glint in his eyes. “Não pai, eu quero baixar o tempo da volta”(No dad, I wanna lap faster) little y/n stood her ground, already half way back into her kart. "Vamos voltar lá e mostrar como se faz então, Senninha” (Let’s go back there and show who’s boss then, Senninha).

The memory faded, replaced by the rhythmic sound of the waves. Y/n stopped, chest heaving. Frustration gnawed at her. She would never know that feeling of hearing him cheer her on in that deep, familiar voice again. All she had were these fleeting snippets, these echoes of a life stolen too soon.

Each stride was a battle cry against the past, a desperate attempt to find some semblance of peace. She ran until the sun climbed higher, painting the sky in vibrant hues, until her lungs burned and her legs screamed for mercy. Finally, Y/n slowed to a walk, chest heaving, sweat stinging her eyes.

Collapsing onto a weathered bench, she leaned forward, hands on her knees, gasping for breath. As the initial wave of exhaustion subsided, a new clarity washed over her. The memories would always be there, a bittersweet reminder of a love lost.

But today, she would celebrate his life, his passion, his legacy that lived on, not just in her name, but in the hearts of countless who still chanted his name at races.

Returning to the hotel, Y/n showered, the steam slowly clearing the remnants of the run and the emotional turmoil. Opening the bathroom door, she found Lewis propped up on the bed, scrolling through his phone. He looked up, a concerned look in his warm brown eyes.

"Morning," he said, his voice slightly raspy. "Early run?"

She offered a tired smile. "Needed to clear my head." She sat down on the edge of the bed, pulling a towel around her damp hair. "Big day ahead"

Lewis put down his phone, his gaze intent on her. "Yeah," he agreed, his voice softer now. "You alright?"

Taking another deep breath, she met his gaze. "Yeah, I'll be okay. Just… emotional, even more so this year"

Lewis reached out and took her hand, his touch a warm anchor in the storm of her emotions. "No judgment," he said quietly. "Today isn't easy for you, I know."

Y/n leaned into his touch, finding comfort in his understanding. "Interviews all day and the dinner at night" she sighed. "They want me to relive it all – the memories, the grief. It gets exhausting sometimes."

Lewis nodded. "Maybe you could have your people reschedule some of it. There's no need to—"

She cut him off with a gentle shake of her head. "No, Lew. I can't hide from it. Today may be hard, but it's important. It's a chance to celebrate his life, to keep his memory alive." she squeezed his hand, a newfound determination strengthening her resolve. "I just…" she hesitated, her voice thick with emotion, "I wish I could remember more."

Lewis's gaze softened further. "You may not have years of childhood memories, but you carry his spirit in you. His passion, his strength, that's part of who you are."

Y/n looked out the window, at the city slowly waking up to a new day. His words held truth. She may not have clear memories of her father, but his legacy, his love, was woven into the fabric of her being.

Taking another deep breath, she met Lewis's gaze, a small smile danced in her eyes "I hope so.”

Today would be impossibly hard. As people celebrated a hero, she would mourn a loss, but they would all be facing the future nonetheless. He may have been gone, but the love he gave her remained, with her and in her.

"I remember you my way, It’s not perfect or fair, I paint you with colours, That weren’t ever there. Feels harder these days after so long, ‘Cause my memory fades"

The sterile hotel conference room felt strangely warm, the air thick with a mix of anticipation and unspoken grief. Y/n sat opposite Galvão Bueno, the legendary Brazilian motorsport commentator, his kind eyes reflecting a lifetime of witnessing triumphs and tragedies on the track.

But this wasn't just another interview. Galvão knew Ayrton. Knew him not just as a driver, but as a friend, a competitor, a kindred spirit who left a void in Brazilian hearts, and most acutely, in Y/n's.

The interview began, a dance between formality and shared history. Galvão's questions flowed, laced with a quiet respect that Y/n appreciated. "Ayrton" he began, a nostalgic smile playing on his lips "sempre teve uma maneira diferente de cativar o público” (always had a way of captivating a room"

Y/n nodded, a flicker of curiosity sparking in her eyes. "Ele tinha” (He did) she admitted "Mas para ser bem honesta, eu lembro de sempre ficar puxando ele para sair dos lugares porque ele parava para conversar com todo mundo” (But to be honest, I remember always dragging him out of every room because he would stop and talk to everyone)

A warm chuckle escaped Galvão's lips at her confession. He leaned forward, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Você sabia que antes de toda corrida, ele fazia um ritualzinho? Ele parava na frente do carro, fechava os olhos, e... bom, ninguém sabe direito o que ele fazia. Mas ele tocava o carro em três lugares específicos – o nariz, a roda direita dianteira, e aqui” (Did you know that before every race, he'd have this little ritual? He'd stand by his car, close his eyes, and…well, no one knew exactly what he did, but he'd touch the car in three specific places – the nose cone, the front right wheel, and then, right here) Galvão tapped his chest over his heart.

Y/n smiled, surprised that someone still remembered that sequence. But, although this was the Ayrton Senna she knew from the countless documentaries and newsreels, how he recounted that from memory was a glimpse of a private Ayrton, a man seeking solace and strength before the roar of the engines began, not something she would notice while watching a video.

"E tem mais, Senninha” (There's more, Senninha) he said, using the affectionate nickname many Brazilians called her by. "Você sabe que ele era muito supersticioso. Ele nunca usava um capacete novo pela primeira vez em um final de semana de corrida. Sempre insistia em um mais velho, mesmo que estivesse ruim para usar.” (He was fiercely superstitious, you see. He wouldn't wear a new helmet for the first time on a race weekend. Always insisted on the old one, even if it was a little worse for wear.)

Y/n couldn't help but let out a small laugh, a welcome sound that broke the tension in the room. "Parece exatamente algo que ele faria” (That sounds exactly like something he’d do) she said, a newfound appreciation blooming in her chest.

Galvão continued, weaving a tapestry of anecdotes. He spoke of Ayrton's meticulous work ethic, his relentless pursuit of perfection, and then, with a twinkle in his eye, of his playful side. "Ele sempre arrastava os reporters brasileiros para o kart em Interlagos, lá onde você aprendeu a pilotar” (He'd always drag Brazilian reporters to go-kart at Interlagos, right there where you learned how to race" he reminisced, a fond smile creasing his face. "E deixa eu te contar, seu pai sempre ganhava da gente, por muito!" (And let me tell you, your father would always beat us, by far)

Y/n listened, captivated. These were stories of a man, not just a legend. A man who found joy in competition, even outside the high-pressure world of Formula One. As the interview progressed, a kaleidoscope of Ayrton unfolded before her, a man filled with complexities and contradictions, yet undeniably her father.

Stepping out of the stifling conference room, Y/n felt a wave of exhaustion wash over her. Galvão's interview had stirred a potent cocktail of emotions within her – a heady mix of pride, nostalgia, and a gnawing sense of loss. Back in her hotel room, she found her ant Viviane unpacking a basket of goodies as she waited for her youngest niece. The scent of warm pão de queijo filled the air, a familiar comfort amidst the whirlwind of emotions.

"Você chegou, florzinha" (You’re here, little flower) the elder woman said, her voice as warm as the sun, pulling Y/n into a tight embrace. "Como foi?” (How did it go)

Y/n sank into the hug, the scent of lavender and her ant’s comforting embrace temporarily pushing aside the weight of the interview. "Foi bom” (It was good) she mumbled, pulling away slightly. “Galvão knew Dad well, that's for sure” y/n’s changed to English, hoping it’d be okay to use the language she didn’t have to think so hard to answer back in.

Both women sat by the outdoor sitting area of the room, the crash of the waves a comforting distraction as y/n ate the last bits of the cheese bread that were being served all day during the interviews on the anniversary and promotions for the new Netflix show.

"I believe everything's going well for the dinner latter tonight” the younger offered, more out of obligation than conviction. Viviane’s gaze sharpened, the lines around her eyes crinkling with a quiet understanding. She held Y/n’s gaze until she asked "But something troubles you, doesn't it?"

Y/n hesitated, her fingers fiddling with the edge of her shirt. It was a familiar pattern her family knew all too well, the switch to English, the fiddling, the lack of glint in the eyes she had inherited from Ayrton.

Taking a deep breath, y/n confessed, "It's just…all these interviews, all these stories about Dad. I feel like everyone knew a part of him I never did."

A shadow flickered across Viviane’s face, a brief echo of the grief they both still carried. She reached out, gently squeezing Y/n's hand. "My love" she began, her voice soft yet firm “Beco was a complex man. Even those closest to him couldn't fully grasp him. He was a whirlwind, a force of nature on the track, but off it…" she paused, a wistful smile gracing her lips. "He was a private man, and yes, perhaps a little distant at times. He lived for his racing, dedicating every fiber to it."

Y/n nodded, a familiar ache tightening her chest. "It's not that I blame him," she said quietly. "He was the best."

Viviane’s smile softened. "He was, my darling. But being the best came at a cost. It left little room for the mundane, the everyday things that build memories."

A flicker of a childhood memory sparked in Y/n's mind – the faint scent of her father's cologne, the warmth of his hand enveloping hers as they walked through a park. They weren't grand gestures, but they were hers, proof of a love that existed beyond trophies and championships.

The elder saw the shift in Y/n's eyes, the glimmer of a forgotten memory. "Não se compare com o Galvão ou com qualquer outro, meu amor” (Don't compare yourself to Galvão or the others, my love) she said gently. "Você é a filha dele. Você conheceu o Beco, o homem com o mesmo olhar que o seu” (You are his daughter. You knew Beco, the man with the same eyes as yours)

Y/n's gaze drifted out to the bustling Miami cityscape, a blur compared to the vivid image forming in her mind's eye – a playful smile on her father's face as he taught her how to say pão de queijo. It was a fleeting memory, but a precious one nonetheless.

The stories, though fragmented, were pieces of a larger puzzle, a picture of her father that was starting to take shape, not just as a legendary driver, but as a man capable of love, laughter, and quiet moments of joy.

As they finished their lunch, Viviane placed a comforting hand on Y/n's cheek. "Go now, my darling," she said, her voice soft yet strong. "Celebrate your father, honor his memory. But don't forget to celebrate the love you shared, the love that lives on within you."

Y/n nodded, tears welling up in her eyes, this time tears of gratitude for the woman who had been a constant source of love and support throughout her life. Leaning in, they embraced tightly. "Obrigada, tia. Por tudo" (Thank you, antie. For everything) she whispered, the words thick with emotion.

As she left the hotel room later, for another round of interviews before the official dinner, Y/n went to the window, gazing out at the ocean once again, taking a deep breath, she whispered, "Obrigada, pai. Por tudo.” (Thank you, dad. For everything). It was a simple phrase, but for her, it held the weight of a lifetime of love and an unspoken promise to keep his legacy alive.

"And these aren’t tears because you’re gone, But for all the years that we lost, All those times I missed that love, Had it just for a moment"

As the night dawned in Miami, the heat dissipated but the humidity continued to clung to the city like a second skin. Y/n bustled around the room, a flurry of nervousness. The dinner to celebrate Ayrton Senna’s legacy started in a couple of hours and although the event had been meticulously planned for weeks, and by at least 30 people, the weight of the world felt concentrated on Y/n shoulder’s, the formal host to the dinner.

Lewis emerged from the shower, a towel wrapped around his lower waist, beads of water clinging to his dark braids. He stopped short at the sight of Y/n, a smile spreading across his face as he took sight of her sat perched on the edge of the bed, a faded white t-shirt of his hanging loosely on her frame, a white towel turbaned around her wet hair.

"Planning on hitting the town like that?" he teased, a playful glint in his eyes. "Although" he added, his voice dropping a touch lower, "I do love the look."

Y/n laughed, a sound that banished the last vestiges of worry from Lewis's heart. "Not quite," she said, her smile widening. "I’m trying to figure out what to post"

He noticed her phone held open on the bed, displaying two video options. As he walked closer, his bare chest brushing against hers for a fleeting moment – a small reminder of the intimacy they shared – Y/n looked up at him, her eyes sparkling with a light he hadn't yet seen earlier in the day.

"Help me choose" she said, her voice filled with a newfound energy.

He picked her up and sat her on his laps, occupying her place by the edge of the bed, the scent of his shower gel a subtle but pleasant counterpoint to the sweet aroma of the lotion she had applied. He leaned over to see the two videos.

The first one, showed a baby Y/n, barely a year old, toddling through a sun-dappled garden, her chubby arms flailing as she chased a flurry of brightly colored butterflies. In the background, Ayrton with a gentle smile on his face, playfully swatting the butterflies away from his daughter.

The second video, showed a slightly older Y/n, around two years-old, in a swimming pool. Ayrton, submerged in the water next to her, was demonstrating how to blow bubbles. Y/n, a mischievous glint in her eyes, mimicked his actions, creating a flurry of glistening bubbles that danced around her face.

"The bubble one. Something about that mischievous gleam in your eyes always has me hooked” Lewis said, amusement dancing in his voice

Y/n laughed, a sound so genuine and unburdened that it made Lewis's heart skip a beat. "I was always a rowdy thing" she admitted, a playful glint in her own eyes.

"A charming one, at that" Lewis confirmed, reaching out to kiss her shoulder. Picking the video, Lewis handed the phone back to her. "Let the world see that side to you" Y/n grinned, tapping on the screen to schedule the post.

She got up and disappeared into the bathroom to get dressed, and a few minutes later Lewis walked into Y/n intently listening to her phone on speaker, as she fiddled with a stray curl as she spoke.

"Adriane" she soothed; her voice laced with a warmth that cut through the phone's static. "Você está indo como minha convidada, lembra?” (You're coming as my guest, remember?)

A nervous laugh tinkled on the other end. “Eles sabem disso?” (Do they know that?). Andriane, Ayrton's last girlfriend and a prominent Brazilian television personality.

Y/n bit her lip, a pang of sympathy shooting through her. "Eu sei.” (I do know) she sighed. "Eu sei que eles nunca realmente te aceitaram, mas você era diferente. Você foi a única que ele me apresentou” (I know they never really accepted you, but you were different. You were the only one he introduced to me."

A brief silence followed, then Adriane spoke, her voice softer now. "Ele queria uma família, Y/n. Uma família para você. Ele sempre falava isso, seu futuro, com ele” (He wanted a family, Y/n. A family for you. He talked about it all the time, your future, with him)

Y/n's heart clenched. Memories flickered – fleeting glimpses of her father smiling at her from across a dinner table, his eyes holding a tenderness she hadn't quite understood at the time. Perhaps, she thought, there had been more to those moments than she'd realized.

"Obrigada Adriane, por tudo. Por ter sido parte da vida dele, e por ser parte da minha, do seu jeito.” (Thank you Adriane, for everything. For being a part of his life, and for being a part of mine, in your own way) she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

Adriane sniffled softly and then laughed “Você é tão charmosa quanto ele, Senninha” (You are as much of a charmer as he was, Senninha) a sound that banished the last traces of tension. "Vai dar tudo certo.” (Everything will be alright)

With a final exchange of goodbyes, Y/n hung up. Glancing over at Lewis, who was attempting to catch the few Portuguese words he could understand. She took a deep breath. "My family’s not gonna make this any easier" she sighed, her voice hesitant.

Lewis turned and reached for her, pulling her by the waist with a questioning look etched on his face. Y/n, feeling a flicker of anxiety, explained the conversation, but mostly of the unwavering loyalty she felt towards the woman who held such a significant piece of her father's story.

As she finished, Lewis placed a gentle hand on her cheek. "You miss him, don't you?" he asked softly, his eyes filled with understanding as you gave him a sad smile and nod.

"It doesn't matter how long it's been" Lewis continued, his voice firm yet gentle. "Grief doesn't have a deadline."

Y/n remained silent, the weight of his words settling in. He knew the anniversary was a constant reminder, a punch to the gut every year. He could only imagine the whirlwind of emotions it brought – the bittersweet memories mixed with the crushing weight of what could have been.

"It feels unfair, sometimes…" she started, her voice catching signaling she wouldn’t complete her thoughts. Lewis tightened his hold on her, pulling her closer. "It is unfair," he agreed, his voice a low rumble against her ear.

Y/n leaned into his touch, seeking solace in his words and the steady beat of his heart. The dam finally broke, and a light sob went thought her body. Tears streamed down her face, hot and silent. Lewis held her close, whispering reassurances against her hair, letting her feel without judgment.

"Every year," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion, "it's like a punch to the gut. A reminder of all the birthdays, holidays, just…everyday moments I missed with him." Her voice cracked. "Everyone has stories, memories. They remember his laugh, his jokes, his warmth. All I have are these…flashes of moments, barely enough to string together a semblance of who he was."

Lewis didn't try to fix it, to offer empty platitudes. He simply held her gaze as she spoke, a silent promise etched in his eyes. He wouldn't try to replace the memories she never had, but he would be a part of her future, a shoulder to cry on, a hand to hold.

“It's okay to mourn the future that was stolen from you” he whispered, his voice gentle, as Y/n leaned into his touch, a flicker of something akin to peace flickering in her eyes. "Do you think he would have liked me?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

The question hung heavy in the air. It was a question she'd probably grappled with for years, a silent fear gnawing at the edges of her grief. Lewis knew he couldn't give her a definitive answer, but he could offer her the solace of a possibility.

"There's no doubt he would have loved you fiercely." he said, his voice firm with conviction. “And he would have been so proud of the woman you've become."

Silence settled between them once more, but this time it was a comfortable silence, filled with a newfound understanding. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "For being here, for listening, for understanding."

Y/n turned, her eyes meeting his in the mirror, a fresh wave of tear forming in her eyelids. A faint smile tugged at the corner of her lips.

"These aren't sad tears" she explained, wiping away at her eyes "They're just…wish you were here' kind of tears… For this" Y/n gestured at the phone on the counter. "For the celebration, for being surrounded by people who loved him. I just wish he could be here too."

Her voice softened, an acceptance in her eyes. The pain and loss would always be there, a part of her story. But there was also space for joy, for celebrating his life, and for building a future for herself.

As he pulled her into a warm embrace, Lewis whispered into her ear, "He is here, Y/n. In you, in your strength, in the mischief you still carry in your eyes. Every step you take forward is partly because of his love for you."

They stood there for a moment longer, a silent conversation passing between them. Y/n pulled away, wiping the last vestiges of moisture from her cheeks.

"Alright then" she said, a playful glint back in her eyes. "Let's go celebrate Dad. And show Miami a little Brazilian hospitality."

Lewis grinned. "Lead the way" his arms wrapping her and turning her around so he could kiss her.

The 30th anniversary of his death, although grim and a meticulously planned affair, held a significance that went beyond events, interview and RSVPs. It was a celebration of a life well-lived, a father cherished, and a daughter determined to carry his legacy forward, one mischievous bubble at a time.

______________________________________________________________

TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk @happy-golden-hour @vicurious28

@0710khj @thecubanator2 @neilakk @bigratbitchsworld @adriswrld

@fearfam69691 @cmleitora

#lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton imagine #senna!reader #ayrton senna #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #lewis hamilton #formula 1

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tenderleavesbob · 6 months ago

Text

It was just a stupid fight. Warriors had them with Legend all the time. Legend all but started his days bantering with Warriors. They teased each other over breakfast and threw snarky remarks at each other at bedtime. It should have been fine.

Except the last few weeks had been long, and everyone was on edge. Their bantering had more barbs than usual until it was no longer bantering at all. Legend was exhausted and when he was that worn, he grew vicious. His words drew blood.

Warriors's armor was only good against physical blades. All of his efforts to thicken his skin meant nothing against Legend's clever tongue.

It was a stupid fight, and Warriors's response was worse. He heard Sky shouting at him to come back, but he ignored the hero. He grabbed his bag and stomped away into the forest. Perhaps if Time or Twilight or Wind had been there, they could have stopped him, but they were with Wild scouting out an ancient fort. He heard the others trying to calm down Legend and Legend snarling back. He tuned out all of it.

It was a stupid fight and it wouldn't have been so terrible if there wasn't so much truth in Legend's words. Usually Legend's tone was teasing when he brought up Warriors's unusual background and how he didn't have adventures or experiences like the rest of them. There had been nothing teasing today when Legend retorted that Warriors didn't have their experience, didn't have their knowledge, wasn't a hero like the rest of them, so why should they listen to him?

Why should they? What information could Warriors possibly provide to eight blooded, experienced heroes? How could he truly help them?

Warriors stomped away, fuming, and hating himself for how much it hurt. Legend's words struck true. He might have only been lashing out, but he was right. This wasn't Warriors's battlefield. He knew this. He had known it from the start.

He was a soldier. He wasn't a hero like the rest of them. As so many of them had pointed out over the campfire, Knights were better at being used by the enemy than protecting their kingdom.

By the Three, it hurt.

Warriors knew it was stupid to walk away. It had been a stupid fight and it was stupid to leave the camp, but Legend's words still rang in his mind and drowned out everything else.

What did he know? Why should a hero listen to a soldier?

What did he have to offer them?

Sky's calls and the other voices quieted. Warriors continued walking and the forest grew darker and denser around him. He knew he should stop. He knew he should calm himself down and return to the camp. He knew that it was just a stupid fight.

He knew Legend was right.

When everything grew silent and still around him, Warriors finally stopped. He had no idea where he was. He had no idea where the camp was. He dropped his bag and buried his face in his hands.

He was too much of a hero to be with his soldiers at home anymore, and he was too much of a soldier to fit in with the heroes. What was he supposed to do? What was he supposed to do?

A hero would know what to do. As Legend loved pointing out, heroes were great at puzzles. Things tended to be more black and white for soldiers.

A twig snapped to his right. Warriors straightened and grabbed his sword. He half expected to see Sky there.

It wasn't Sky. It wasn't a member of the chain.

A familiar dark lizalfos stood in front of him.

There was movement in the shadows. Monsters gathering. Warriors tensed. He was surrounded. When had this happened? How had he allowed himself to be so distracted?

Good job, hero.

Warriors grit his teeth and glared at the lizalfos in front of him. The monster wasn't moving. It was just watching him. There was something disturbingly familiar about its aura. It reminded him of...

"Hero," the monster hissed. "Or would Captain be more fitting?"

Warriors's hand tightened around the hilt of his sword. The monster had been spying on them. "What should I call you?"

The monster smiled. It was a terrible look. "You can call me friend. I'm here to help you, after all."

"Oh?"

The lizalfos began to circle him. Warriors moved so his back was never to the monster. The other creatures didn't move closer. Waiting for their leader's command, he supposed. This was certainly no ordinary monster.

"They've turned you out," the lizalfos said. The idleness of its tone set off more alarms in Warriors's mind. This monster was a shape shifter, actual shape unknown. A creature of significant, deadly power, as shown by Twilight's injury. He was clever, as this conversation proved. "They drove you away. Your own betrayed you."

Warriors didn't answer. He just watched the monster, his own clever mind in motion.

The lizalfos kept smiling at him. It made his skin crawl. "All because you aren't the right kind of hero. You fought and bled for Hyrule, and it's not enough. You're not enough for them."

That stung. Warriors kept his own face impassive.

"You'll never be enough. You know it. They know it. Knights and heroes don't get along. Heroes don't fight alongside Knights. They fight them."

Words sharp as blades and just as good at drawing blood. Warriors didn't answer.

"Of course they would fight you eventually." The lizalfos stopped in its original spot, its dark eyes glittering. "Heroes have no need for a soldier."

"But you do," Warriors guessed.

The lizalfos grinned at him, baring its sharp teeth. "I do. We can help each other."

If Warriors was a true hero, he might have viewed this as a puzzle to be solved. He might have viewed this as an opportunity to get answers. He could have wielded his own clever tongue and tried to draw out information.

As everyone liked to point out, Warriors wasn't a real hero. He was just a Knight. A soldier.

"You're not worried about me doing anything stupid and heroic then?" Warriors inquired. He kept his voice calm and polite, just like he was talking to someone at Court.

He guessed it was the right tone by the glint in the monster's eyes. "Why should I? Haven't they made it clear that you aren't a hero?"

"They have," Warriors agreed. He thought of Time, his boy, in pain as he sat beside his descendant's sickbed. He thought of Twilight, dying and pale and quiet. He thought of the tears in Wind's eyes. "I'm not a hero."

Warriors whipped out his blade. His fury lit his blood and magic blazed, lighting up his sword. Warriors bared his own grin at the lizalfos. "Which means I don't need to worry about being a proper hero when I kick your ass."

He wasn't a hero. He was a war captain.

Maybe Warriors couldn't solve one of Legend's puzzles, but he was damned good at getting his hands dirty.

With a battle cry, Warriors charged.

#lu warriors #tl scribbles #lu legend

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