#like always el oh el so exhausted
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I'm just always a bitch to everyone apparently and I'm told to go upstairs... certain people wonder why I stay in my room all the time
#el speaks#delete later#this is about my mother lol#I just can't be exhausted#she needs to learn that I just sound like a bitch all the time seriously I just talk like this (especially tired)#god I'm sorry I'm not always happy and feel comfortable talking to you or your boyfriend#he can't even talk to me face to face he always runs and hides behind you#âI asked her something and she was grumpy :(â like omg dude seriously? did I hurt your fucking feelings? oh gee I'm so fucking sorry#âthings never go my wayâ -my mother#oh yeah? how do you think I feel? oh you don't#I try to care about you all the time but you never give me the same treatment#god you have no idea how much I wanna speak my mind fully#I try to fucking spend time with you even in small ways like going grocery shopping but that was still impossible#I can never get a word in about anything you're a broken record#âmy job sucks and my boyfriend won't be here for my birthday :(â#sorry but shit happens sorry my presence isn't enough#I really do try... but man#also I think I got triggered or something? dogs get to me man#maybe I am just a bitch and if so? all well#wonder why
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Realizing the adultification and demonization of Duke and Damian is just. Not gonna stop. El oh el
#demonization more in Damianâs case#and not in the characters canât do bad things kinda way#but in a writers and readers are so racist theyâll never even acknowledge that they donât grant him the same grace they do anyone else#especially their white faves in comparison#and with the way they keep tryna spin Raâs and Talia as being like. perfect parents maybe slightly absent or evil back then but family ppl#at heart itâs just gonna be more excuses to demonize a brown child bc now the very basis of his previous attitude will be gone#i mean for some of you it was never existed or acknowledged but thereâs a certain bitterness Iâm feeling when yâall can point to a panel#written by someone whoâs only read WFA for background and say âsee its canon that heâs just a murderous asshole for no reason!â#same mfs who canât tell me three bad things Timâs done that they donât fw bc either theyâve never read it or they justify it in their minds#and for Duke itâs like. just removing every aspect of his character bc god forbid u pay attention to a black child whoâs not an easy stereo#thatâs the difference Damianâs early appearance was very easy for a lot of yâall to stereotype even and at times especially Talia Stans#for Duke u canât call him ghetto and u canât call him one of the good ones bc thereâs no âbadâ ones as a comparison point so heâs just a guy#heâs a good bro :) heâs there :) u donât know enough about him to speak :)#and honestly if they keep going down the Al Ghuls are perfect route they might shoehorn Damian near that position too#thatâd make it three for three when you involve cass. wow the poc of the family being reduced to no character besides propping up the yt#cast. maybe if we go that route and it happens to all three of them some of yâall will make a âfandom has a problem đ„șâ post and dip#like always el oh el so exhausted#batfandom racism#tim drake#jason Todd#dick grayson#bruce wayne#Lemme be a bitch today#Duke cass and Damian Stanâs I wonât clog ur dash with this#actually some of u cass Stanâs areâŠ.#Iâll just say it a lot of you are racist as fuck and canât say shit about cass besides she fights good and deserves the world#batfam#wfa#anti wfa
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do you believe me now? | 3
in which spencer reid spends a rainy day teaching inexperienced fem!reader how to touch him. of course, her efforts don't go unrecognized, much less unrewarded
series masterlist
18+ (smut) warnings: inexperienced reader, softdom!spencer, sub reader, oral m receiving, reader swallows lol, a truly sickening amount of praise, like really, you JOKINGLY refer to each other as dirty sluts, r has longish hair, spit mentioned once, thigh riding (moans loudly), its filthy idk what to tell you, i feel like i've crossed the desert on foot i don't even know what else is in here, your honor they're in love, i take you to dinner first, this part is stupidly long a/n: had a fucking field day the three separate times i had to rewrite this el oh el... but think i like how it turned out?! anyway, if u like this PLS lmk bc writing it took a small piece of my soul, and yes there will be a part four!! take care of yourselves!! i love you!!!
You give Spencer half a minute or so before knocking on his door for a second time.Â
Itâs miserable outside, and though the hallway youâre standing in now isnât terribly cold, youâd much prefer to be in Spencerâs apartment, where it will be the same toasty 68.5 degrees as always. Not that the heating will magically dry you. And not that youâll be there for long, if the date youâd scheduled last week goes on as planned.Â
Youâre getting worried, about to knock for a third time when the locks finally click and the door opens to reveal a disheveled Spencer Reidânot at all looking ready for a date. You take in his ensemble; blue checked pajama pants, FBI Academy crewneck, the usual questionably paired socks. Heâs rubbing his droopy eyes, which slowly widen as he notices your attire.Â
âShit, Iâm sorry, our date! I meanâyou look really nice. I look⊠like this. Why donât you come in while I get ready to go?â
He holds the door open a little wider and you step through, relishing in the familiar warmth as you pull your hood down and excess water droplets spatter on the ground.Â
âWhen did you get in?â you ask, hanging your raincoat up on a hook. You know heâd wrapped up a case yesterday evening, but youâd gone to sleep before the team left Cincinnati.Â
Spencer pauses in the middle of the room, staring at the antique flooring like he forgot what he was doing.Â
âUh⊠four hours ago.â
âWhâfour hours? Spencer, you must be exhausted.â
He laughs awkwardly, running a tired hand over his face.Â
âI mean⊠Iâve definitely felt better.â
You kick your soaked shoes off and cross the room until youâre toe to toe with him. Immediately his hands settle on your waist and yours find his arms. His eyes are kind, and heâs clearly pleased by your presence despite his lack of energy.Â
âThe weatherâs terrible, anyway. Letâs just go out another day.â
His features have softened and you can see how tired he truly isânot just in his bleary eyes, but the way his fingers grasp weakly to you, the way his head bows slightly. It seems bone-deep.Â
âBut I havenât seen you in a week. I donât want you to go home.â
Your lips twist. A clap of thunder rolls in the distance and the rain starts coming down even harder against the windowpanes.Â
âWe could hang out here. We can take a nap!â
Spencer sighsâhalf resignation, half disappointment.Â
âBut we made such good plans,â he laments.Â
You kiss his cheek.Â
âPlans that can be rescheduled. The bookstore will still be there next weekend.â
It takes him a moment to settle into the idea, but you watch the exhaustion win.Â
âOkay. But no nap. I want to be awake for you. Coffee?â
You nod enthusiastically, beaming at the prospect of getting to spend the day doing nothing with him. Spencer mirrors your grin, before pressing a kiss to your head.
âYouâre so cute.â Heat creeps into your cheeks and you canât think of a satisfactory reply, but in the end you donât need to, as he tugs gently on your hands. âCâmon. Tell me what mug you want.â
The kitchen counter bites into your palms as you lean with your back to it, watching Spencer putter all around the kitchen as he works on the coffee. It makes you tired just to watch.Â
âAre you sure you donât want to take a nap? Caffeine isnât a substitute for sleep, you know.â
âI do know,â he agrees, measuring coffee grounds. âBut other than last night, I actually slept fairly well this week.â
âYou seem exhausted.â
âI⊠am tired in lots of ways. Not all of which can be resolved with more sleep.â he admits.
Your heart drops ever so slightly at the way his voice weakens as he looks through the fridge. Sometimes you remember there are still things you donât know about himâsides you havenât met. His work side is one of them, and it more than a little intimidates you.
âBad case?â you ask, voice quiet and crackling with nervous energy.Â
Spencer nods, approaching and setting a carton of milk on the counter behind youâcaging you in with his arms in the process. Itâs hard to find the words when heâs this close, but you manage to stumble through them.Â
âDo⊠do you wanna talk about it?â
Spencer hums, tilting his head before gently saying, ânot right now. But thank you for offering, lovely.â
âOkay, wellâif you change your mind⊠if thereâs anything I can do to make you feel betterâŠâ
Finally he stops with the teasingâthe unabashed staring at your lips, the faux-attentive nodsâand drops his head to your level to kiss you properly. Itâs obviously an attempt to get you to shut up, youâre not dumb enough so as to miss thatâbut you donât really care why heâs doing it so long as he does it at all.Â
âI feel pretty great right now, actually,â he murmurs against your lips, a hint of a smile coloring his words. âDo you want sugar in yours?â
âUmâŠâ
Your eyes dart helplessly between his as he pulls away and you struggle to un-fluster yourself enough to answer his simple question. Spencer seems to delight in this. The longer it takes you, the bigger his perfect smile gets.Â
âYou took too long. Youâre getting sugar.â
âAre you sure thereâs nothing I can do?â you plead later on the couch, for the third or fourth time, setting your mostly-empty mug on the coffee table.Â
His eyebrows raise.Â
âIâm sure, honey.â
âBut I want to help,â you pout, pulling your knees into your chest. Spencer regards you for a moment from the other end of the couch, before beckoning you closer wordlessly.Â
âYou are helping,â he assures you, gently grabbing your wrist as you crawl into his lap. He rubs soothing circles into the delicate skin with his thumb. âYou being here and being you is plenty.â
Itâs the closest youâve been to him since before he left, and while youâve all but given up on asking him to sleep with you, it doesnât mean you donât think about it multiple times per day. Itâs especially difficult to keep your thoughts PG when you havenât seen him in a week, and his hair is all messy, and heâs got his pajamas on, and youâre in his lap, and heâs looking at you like that.Â
âWhat are you thinking about?â Spencer murmurs, likely concerned by your lack of response and the glazed-over look in your eyes. You reanimate, averting your gaze to the spot on your thigh heâs now rubbing absentmindedly.Â
âNothing. I just missed you.â
âI missed you a lot, too.â You donât even have to look up to know that his brows have twisted into a pleasant sort of bemusement, like you are a particularly complex puzzleâyou can hear it as he continues speaking. âIâm still not used to having something external take up so much of my attention while Iâm trying to do my job. Iâve never had that before. Not something good, anyway. Itâs like every time I leave, Iâm thinking about you more than the time before. And I was already thinking about you a lot.â
The corner of your mouth twitches as he rambles.Â
âReally?â
âYeah, really,â he chuckles. âYou prove to be incredibly distracting even when youâre hundreds of miles away. Do you know how many nights I almost called you before realizing it was one in the morning?â
A slow smile spreads over your face.Â
âOh? Whatever could you have been calling about at one in the morning?â
Youâre teasing him, and it works. He blushes adorably.Â
âUm⊠probably exactly what youâd expect. In hindsight I think itâs best that I refrained.â
âWhat?â You grin, incredulous, forgetting your shyness and leaning closer. âYou totally shouldâve. Iâve never had phone sex before. I wouldâve done it.â
âNo, you wouldnât!â Spencer laughs. âIt would have just been me talking to myself with you on the other line. I donât think phone sex is really up your alley.â
âShut up,â you laugh as your lips meet. He smiles into the kiss. Before you get too lost in it, you pull away, leaning back when he tries to follow you. âI think youâre over-complicating it. Itâs just dirty talk, right? I can totally do that. Itâs just, like⊠blah blah blah, dirty slut, something somethingâŠâ
You trail off as he gives you a look. Poker facedâaside from the slightly narrowed eyes sparkling with humor.Â
âYou want me to refer to you as a dirty slut?â
Maintaining eye contact is an uphill battleâyou crack in a matter of seconds, resting your forehead against his and closing your eyes stubbornly.Â
âNo. For all you know I want to call you a dirty slut.â
Itâs ridiculous, but he recognizes the bravado for what it is, still smiling slightly as he rubs your hips.Â
âRight. I apologize for assuming. But just for future reference, I donât want to be called that, and I donât think Iâd be comfortable calling you that, either.â
âBut you can call me other stuff,â you remind your boyfriend, pulling back and still not looking at him.Â
âYeah? Like what?â
And just like that, youâre shy again.Â
âI donât know⊠nice things. I like when youâre nice.â
âI like being nice to you.â Itâs so sincere-sounding that you meet his gaze, examining his face. His eyes are clear and soft on you, the only source of warm light on such a grey day, as his hands keep running slow lines over your sides. âKiss?â
And how could you ever deny him anything?Â
As has happened before, the kiss starts out innocent enough. And itâs not that it gets particularly heated, or anythingâitâs just that it doesnât end, and after a few moments your mouth slips open and so does his and thatâswhat gets both of you worked up over a period of minutes. Pressure and heat that youâre becoming accustomed to build between your legs, and you donât even notice that youâve begun rocking back and forth in his lap until Spencer is attempting to still your hips with patient but assertive hands.Â
âHoney, thatâsâslow down, sweetheart.â
Finally he gets a grip on you and you realize as soon as you stop moving that there had been friction occurringâand youâre pretty damn sure you know what you were grinding against.Â
Your whole body feels hot with arousal and embarrassment.Â
âOh my godâIâm sorry,â you mumble, moving your hands from his shoulders to cover your face. âThat was an accident, Iââ
âItâs fine,â Spencer assures you, squeezing your waist gently. âI just wanted to make sure you knew what you were doing because I know we havenât⊠gotten there, yet.â
A moment passesâyour hands fall to the FBI stitching across his chest, studying the letters without really seeing them. You havenât gotten there yetâŠÂ but why not? Why havenât you touched him, or even seen him? You think back to the few times heâs touched you and realize that you had been too busy with either your own insecurities or pleasure to genuinely consider how it might be affecting him. He says your name gently, drawing your attention.Â
âYou okay?â
You nod haltingly, brow furrowed as you think.Â
âIâyeah. I was just realizing that I havenât, like⊠touched you, yet.â
Itâs silent for another long second, and you glance up, to where heâs studying you with a dissonant kind of relaxed scrutinyâa knowing confidence that probably comes with a lot more experience than you have.Â
âDo you want to?â
Woah.Â
Usually you have to beg on hands and knees and prepare a slideshow presentation before he agrees to doing anything sexual in nature. Heâs never so overtly invited or initiated it before. Not that youâre complaining by any stretch of the imagination. Â
You nod shyly, still fiddling with the fabric of his shirt.Â
âIf you want to, I can show you how. But itâs also absolutely okay if you donât.â
Show you how?Â
Your brain is melting into sludge at the idea.Â
âI do,â you admit, meeting his gaze again. Itâs kind, and you know he really wouldnât be upset if you said noâbut now that youâve thought about it, you feel deeply compelled to try.Â
âOkay. Come here, first.â You lean forward expectantly, eyes fluttering shut as his hand finds the back of your neck and he pulls you into another soft kiss. By the time your lips separate again, your head is spinning. âWeâre just trying something, okay? Youâre allowed to stop whenever you feel like it. Really low stakes. Got it?â
You nod, still close enough that your noses brush as you do.Â
âGot it.â
He presses one more chaste kiss to your lips before pulling away and leaning back into the couch.Â
âScoot back a little, angel.â
Wordlessly you do so, heart pounding with nervous excitement as he lifts his hips and slides his pajama pants down just enough to where he can comfortably pull himself out, andâ
Your breath catches.Â
Now, you may be about as virginal as they come, but you werenât born yesterday. Youâve seen porn, youâve received unsolicited nudesâit is the 21st century. Yet never before have you thought to yourself; wow, that dick is the pinnacle of beauty. Perfect. Breathtaking. But thereâs just no other way to describe him.Â
So thatâs what hits you firstâhow unexpectedly pretty it is.Â
The size sinks in a quick second later.Â
You canât tell with perfect accuracy how many inches he is, but youâre pretty damn sure heâs big. Thatâs meant to fit inside of you?
No, noâthatâs a consideration for another day. Right now you need to stop staring like an idiot. You glance up at his face, and heâs sporting a cocky little half-smile which lets you know youâve been caught. Motherfucker heâs so hot. Itâs unnerving.Â
âDo you have something youâd like to say?â he asks politely, quite obviously containing his amusement. But you canât summon a sufficiently sarcastic response.Â
Your voice comes so soft when you reply, âyouâre pretty.â
Spencer melts, eyes impossibly softening.Â
âPretty?â His smile is earnest now. He strokes your cheek and you canât not lean into his touch.Â
âMhm. I want to, umâŠâ your lips twist to the side as you look back down, finding heâs not gotten less intimidating since you last checked. âBut what if Iâm bad at it?â you whisper. He chuckles, brushing hair over your shoulder. Â
âItâs kind of a hard thing to be bad at. And Iâm gonna help you, okay?â
Itâs the honesty with which he speaks to you that makes you feel so safe. There are no hidden intentions or words that seem to mean one thing but really mean another. Spencer wants you as a person more than he wants you as a body and thatâs been clear since the first time he touched you. You take a deep breath.Â
âOkay. What do I do?â
âFirst, youâre gonna spit in your hand.â
You look up, alarmed.Â
âYou want me to intentionally get my spit on you? Is that not your worst nightmare?â
âBelieve it or not, Iâm not super worried about yours,â he teases. âBut if youâd prefer, I can spit in your hand.â
âActually, mine is fine,â you laugh nervously.Â
Hesitantly, you do as instructed, even though it seems frankly bizarre.Â
âGood. Now just wrap your hand around it, like this.â His voice is quiet, focused as he guides your hand downward. Your heart rate ticks up again as he encourages you to wrap your hand around the base of his cock. He feels much warmer than youâd expectedâhis skin is silken beneath your touch but heâs undeniably hard and that sort of eliminates any sense of him being fragile from the equation.Â
âItâs gonna be less sensitive down hereâand then, up hereââ he slides your hand back up, covering your thumb with his own and swiping it just below the head of his cock on the underside. He hisses and you look up in fascination. âThatâs the most sensitive part.â
Without further instruction, you do it again, keeping your touch light and watching his face for a reaction. His drawn brows twitch, furrowing deeper for a second, and his lips part. A heavy exhalation passes between them and quickly builds into a breathy laugh.Â
âWhat?â you murmur, over-eager to please and very nervous to do something wrong.Â
âNothing. Just feels good, thatâs all.â
âDonât laugh,â you pout. Of course that makes him laugh again, and he leans forward to kiss your head.Â
âIâm laughing at myself, angel. Iâm a grown man fighting for my life from a handjob that youâve barely started. I knew it would be different with you but I didnât realize it would be this different.â
Heat rises in your cheeks and you look away.Â
âYou donât have to lie to make me feel better.â
âIâm not lying,â he urges, grabbing your free hand and encouraging you to uncurl your fingers. His thumb traces circles in your open palm, before capturing your entire hand in his. âDo you feel how much softer your hand is than mine?â
You frown, attempting to feel whatever it is that heâs pointing out. Despite the fact that you think he has very nice hands, you realize heâs right. By no means would you say that theyâre rough, but you can tell where his gun normally sits in his hands, where his fountain pen rubs against his fingers. âYeah.â
âYeah. Anything you do is going to be perfect because itâs you.â
Spencer drops his hand to your leg, rubbing it soothingly. The other moves to cover yoursâthe one wrapped around him.Â
âYouâre gonna help me, right?â you ask quietly. Some adventurous part of you is very excited about this as an experimentâfascinated by the reactions youâve already gotten from him and eager to push it.Â
âI am. Little bit tighter, honey. Iâll tell you if itâs too much.â
You do as youâre told, and heâs murmuring more praiseâslowly encouraging you to begin moving your hand with his own. A shaky exhale catches your attention, drawing your gaze to his face. His eyes are, of course, cast downward, but his expression is hypnotizing. Those lips remain slightly parted, and suddenly you wonder if he makes noises like you do. In that moment it becomes your lifeâs mission to find out.Â
For a while you continue letting his hand guide your movements, but he keeps things so slow for your sake that youâre getting impatient. You forgo his direction, picking up the pace but trying to keep the rhythm heâd instilled in the motion. His hand slackens around yours.Â
âFuck,â he hisses to himself. The hand on your thigh rubs achingly deeper into the flesh. âAngel, what are you doing?â
âI want it to feel good.â Suddenly shy again, you slow down. His hips stutter, which you think may be a sign that it was working. âAm Iâwas that bad?â Spencer looses a breath, looking almostâŠÂ frustrated?
âNo, Iâm justâIâm weirdly close to coming.â
âThatâs a good thing, right?â
âWell,â he mutters, ânot usually. Mostly itâs embarrassing.â
You giggle, a release of some tension, and begin pumping your hand again. His breath hitches and he finally looks up at you, meeting your eyes with his own lust-glazed ones. Heat pools deep between your legs.Â
âI want you to come,â you admit quietly as you twist your wrist, brushing that spot underneath the head of his cock again. His jaw literally drops, and a look that is part confusion, part pleasure, twists his features. You see the surprise sparkling in his eyes and it only spurs you to keep talking. âIâve never seen how you look when you do, but Iâve imagined it. I bet you look so pretty when you come, Spencer. âNd then I would know that I can make you feel good, too.â
âYou⊠you are making me feel good,â he assures you. The way his brow furrows and his  lips are parted give you a feeling thatâs entirely new. Normally, youâre the one falling apart under his touchâbut when itâs the other way around thereâs a whole new kind of pleasure in it for you. You feel kind of powerful. Maybe even close to confident.Â
âReally? Iâm not this quiet when you touch me.â
âIâve haâahâhad more practice not making noise.â
âBut why?â you implore, ignoring the fact that heâs slept with other women and enjoyed the sounds they made, and opting to brush your thumb across that extra sensitive part he definitely shouldnât have told you about. His hips buck up and he hisses, which is immensely gratifying to you.Â
âBecause I like to listen.â
âWhat if I do, too?â
In a moment of divine inspiration , you cover the tip of his cock with your hand, swirling beads of pre-come over your palm. Spencer moans and his hips jut up into your grip. Itâs a beautiful sound, just as youâd hoped.Â
âJesus, fuck.â
You understand why he seems to enjoy touching you so much. Itâs so rewarding to watch as his breathing picks up and pleasure contorts his faceâto watch him get messier and messier and lose his composure a bit more with each stroke of your hand. Itâs so simple but Spencer looks at you like youâre exercising some arcane deviant power over him and heâs not sure he should be enjoying it as much as he is.Â
Distantly you think about how it felt when he had his hands on youâand then, in clearer focus, how it felt when he went down on you. Both were perfect, but something about his lips so gentle on the most intimate, vulnerable part of you had felt like ascension. Maybe it was the emotional component, or maybe it just felt fucking good. Regardless, it seems an irresistible thought.Â
You keep stroking him until his head is lolling on the back of the couch as he groans.
âSpencer?â
âYeah, baby?â
He sounds so destroyed it makes you clench around nothing. Without any indication that youâre going to do so, you stop touching him, and the speed with which he lifts his head again is almost comical. Immediately, while heâs utterly defenseless and desperate, you ask, âcan I use my mouth?âÂ
His eyes widen, and then shut, as he processes your request with a tiny shake of his headâprobably trying to clear the haze of pleasure from his mind before he answers.Â
âHoney,â he rasps eventually, opening his eyes and smoothing a hand over your hair, âyou donât have to do that just because I do. Thatâs not why I do it.â
âBut I want to,â you murmur, shy and mildly embarrassed by what feels almost like a soft rejection. âI donât think I could do anything, like, mind-blowing, but⊠I want to try.â
Your face is hot by the end of the sentence, and you canât meet Spencerâs eyes as his fingers twitch over your hip. A quiet moment passesâbut itâs short-lived.
âOkay. Go ahead, baby.â
Wide eyes dart up to his.Â
âReally?â
Spencer smiles fondly, brushing an invisible speck from your cheek.Â
âI donât think Iâm capable of turning that offer down. Not when itâs you.â
âOkayâum, should I justââ Spencer watches on, finding your sudden enthusiasm completely adorable as you scoot off of his lap and gingerly kneel in front of him. Your eyes are big and glassy as you look up at him, hands set politely on his knees. You squint suspiciously, eyes darting between his face and his cock, now about as hard as itâs ever been due to your toying. He knows itâs probably intimidating for a girl who has never seen one in real life, and he feels kind of bad about it. You do terrible, wonderful things to him that he doesnât understand. âWow. So... it looks bigger from down here.â
âPlease donât try to choke yourself,â he instructs hurriedly, leaning forward slightly. âI really donât need you to do that. Itâs fine if you canât fit it all, I justââ he exhales shakily. Spencer is most definitely strong-willed but he canât pretend like the sight of you on your knees for him, inches from his aching cock for the first time isnât impacting his cognition. Most importantly he doesnât want to make you feel pressured. Heâs trying to not let how badly he wants this show in case you change your mind.Â
Spencer watches as you psych yourself outâwilting like a thirsty flower.Â
âBut what if Iâm bad at this?â you mumble, hands curling into loose fists atop his legs. Spencer pushes your hair back, tucking it behind your ears.Â
âWhatâs your worst case scenario?â he asks. Your answer is immediate.Â
âThat Iâm so bad you make me stop halfway through.â
Spencer canât help but laugh again.Â
âIâm sorryâI just⊠honey, you are really underestimating how profound your effect is on me. I just almost came from a minute long handjob. I can assure you that I wonât make you stop halfway through because Iâd rather not have your mouth on me. That is⊠thatâs just not going to happen.â
You lean your cheek against his thigh. He might actually pass away.Â
âWill you tell me if Iâm doing something wrong?â
âHonestly, as long as you donât bite, youâre in the clear.â
Your eyes squeeze shut and your lips pull into an embarrassed little smile.Â
âGreat. Thank you for that invaluable advice.â
âOf course,â he smiles. It fades slowly as you take a deep breath and look up at him, obviously steeling yourself, before leaning forward and taking him in your hand again. He watches with bated breath, repeating no sudden movements to himself over and over as your hand moves up and down a few more times and your head lowers.Â
You delicately, so lightly trace your tongue from the base of his swollen cock to just underneath the leaking tip, mapping a vein, and his hips buck as you take him into your mouth experimentally. Only the first few inches fit but the sight of your lips wrapped around him, the way youâre looking at him is so unbelievably erotic Spencer knows he wonât last very long.
From a purely technical perspectiveâhe knows heâs gotten objectively better head. Still, something about the way youâre so delicate with him, so soft and timid in the way you lick and kiss and take him into your mouth has him fighting not to come already. Maybe itâs wrong, but knowing that heâs watching you do this for the first time in your life is obscenely arousing. The idea that youâve never trusted another person this much; that youâre letting him be the one to help you navigate something as new and as important as sexuality. The more he thinks about it, though, the more he realizes: itâs not your inexperience that turns him on. Itâs just you. Everything you do is so undeniably youâhe recognizes your mannerisms in every tiny motion, in every glance, and itâs killing him. Youâre like a dream as you look up at him with big nervous eyes, (no, really, he has had this dream) and he remembers he wants to be reassuring youânot pondering life and human connection.Â
âLook at you,â he murmurs, groaning and hips twitching as your cheeks hollow, wrapping his achingly hard cock in soft gentle warmth so sweetly it feels taboo. âSo good, baby. So gorgeous like this.â
You whine around him, receptive as always to his obsequious praise, and he notices the way your hips wiggle as you seek friction. God, you must like this a lot. Spencer gathers your hair into a makeshift ponytail, resting his hand on your head as you begin to bob it. That, he wasnât prepared for. Heâd have been satisfied with just kitten-licks and suckling but he wonât complain about this. Itâs slow, and so intentional as you keep watching him for feedback cues. Ever his observant girl, youâre constantly paying attention. Aware of his reactions. He needs to keep telling you youâre good or else youâll assume youâre terrible.Â
âOver-achiever,â he whispers through a little smile as you down even more of him.Â
Spencer is for the most part a kind and gentle person. For better or worse he is also a man, and he canât help but fantasize about getting you all teary and drooly as he holds your mouth open and sees how much of his cock he can push down your throat. But againâkind. Gentle. So when you get a little over-zealous, attempting to sacrifice your comfort for his pleasure, he pulls your head back slightly. âThatâs far enough, angel. Thatâsâfuck. God, youâre good at this.â The words are thoughtless, muttered to himself more than you as he watches through a haze while you look up at him with glassy, half-lidded eyes, slipping him in and out of your warm mouth, a little faster now as you gain confidence.Â
You whine desperately around him, like youâre the one nearing orgasm and not him. The sound of your pleasure as you suck his cock makes him dizzy. His hips buck, pressing him a little deeper into your mouth. âJesus fucking Christ,â he exhales. âSlow down, baby. Iâmââ a louder moan from him like youâve never heard as he thrusts shallowly turns you on profoundly. Heâs so much more vocal than youâd have imaginedâsonically and verbally. He breathes out a quick, âfuck, fuck, fuck,â pulling your hair slightly, and youâve never wanted to touch yourself more but you know you canât focus on both. Instead you work on making him comeâyou can worry about you later. He says your name, with an authoritative edge to his tone that makes you throb. âHoney, if you donât stop, Iâm gonna comeââ
You swirl your tongue around the top of him like candy and heâs done for. Spencer tries to pull out, which only results in cum both in your mouth and on your face. The orgasm is his strongest in recent memory, and he grunts, watching your lips part and a little squeak escape as he comes all over your faceâbut you keep stroking him all the while. Once heâs 90% sure itâs over, he falls against the back of the couch, breathing heavily and looking down at you through hazy eyes. Oh, heâs going to feel terrible about this in a few secondsâbut right now you look fucking perfect. Your eyes are wide, nervous as his essence drips over your face and down your neckâhe groans when you swallow cautiously, averting his eyes to the ceiling lest he do another thing he regrets.Â
âBaby, I am so sorry,â he mutters, forcibly clearing the haze of orgasm from his mind and sitting up, fixing his pants and looking around before locating the box of tissues on the side table. âIâm so, so sorry. I shouldnât have done that.â You look up at him attentively as he wipes himself from your face as gently as he can.Â
âWhy not?â
âBecause I didnât ask you first. I wasnât thinking clearly.â
Spencer guides your head around by your chin, wiping your jaw and lips.Â
âItâs okay, Spence, Iââ
âNo, itâs not,â he cuts you off, trying to at least turn his guilt into a learning experience for you. Heâs not deluded enough to think someone like you will stay with someone like him forever, because sometimes he does things like that, and heâs reminded that there are certainly people out there more deserving of you. At the very least he can clarify that nobody should ever do what he just did to you. âItâs really not nice to do that to someone.â
âDo you care what I think at all?â
Spencer freezes, finally forcing himself to look you in the eye. Despite the fact that heâs mad at himself, heâs sure itâs coming across as being directed at you. And he knows youâre sensitive, especially about this kind of thing.Â
âOf course, I do, baby. Iâm sorry. Do you want to come back up here with me and tell me what youâre thinking?â he murmurs, cupping your jaw. Hesitantly you nod. The tissues end up on the tableâwhich he will be thoroughlywiping down laterâbefore you crawl back into his lap from the floor. Spencer helps you settle against him, hoping he hasnât messed this up irreversibly. He keeps his voice quiet as he rubs your leg. âWhat were you going to say?â
âI was going to say,â you begin, âthat itâs fine, because youâll remember to ask next time. And because⊠I kind of liked it. I like whenâwhen you do stuff like that.â
Itâs a miracle he can hear you with the way your voice drops into an almost-whisper and youâre hiding against his shirt.Â
âLike what?â he murmurs. Although heâs not sure heâll be able to handle the answer.Â
âLike⊠I donât know. Like you can do whatever you want to me. Like Iâm literally yours.â Each word makes you cringe further, but Spencer has to try hard to maintain a cool facade as he processes this. If heâs going to try and be chivalrous, youâll have to move away from this topicâthis revelationâimmediately. Thankfully, you seem eager to move on. âSo⊠how did I do?â
He almost laughs. It seems exceedingly obvious how you did, but as per usual, you require verbal reassurance.Â
âThat was really good, baby. You did well.â
You blossom.Â
âReally?â
âI wouldnât lie.â
âWas I the best girl out of all of the other girls?âÂ
I wasnât in love with any of the other girls.Â
Just barely, he manages to stop himself from saying it, pinwheeling his arms on the edge of a very steep verbal cliff. The realization that heâs been in love with you for a while hits him like a truck. But he canât tell you that right now. He should wait until youâre less vulnerable.
Fuck.Â
He really wants to tell you right now.Â
âActuallyâdonât answer that,â you decide, while all of this happens in his head in less than a few seconds. âI want to go back to pretending Iâm the only girl youâve ever seen in your life.â
âYouâre the only one that matters,â he offers, relieved to express at least some portion of the much bigger truth. Then he frowns. âNot that the other women Iâve met donât lead important lives. I actually know a lot of incredibly influential and intelligent people who are women. I have deep respect for all of them. Am I helping or making it worse?â he rambles. You giggle. He has his answer. âWhat about you? How do you feel?â he asks after a moment, tenderly, lowly, stroking your hair as you lean against his chest.Â
It takes you a moment to deliberate, fiddling with the fabric of his shirt.Â
âI feel good. I, um⊠liked it a lot more than I would have thought.â
âWell, thatâs good. Much better than if you had hated every second of it.â
You hum in agreement, and he waits for you to say whatever youâre holding back. It comes sooner than heâd have anticipated.Â
âI feel bad about the times before. How did you just⊠go to sleep after? Were you not, likeâinsanely turned on? Not that Iâm, like, irresistibly sexy, or whateverâyou know what I mean.â
Spencer smiles because he knows you canât see him.Â
âI wasnât doing it to pressure you into feeling obligated to reciprocate, I guess. My line of reasoning was that it would be less intimidating if I didnât even present it as an option until you wanted to try.â
âOh.â
Spencer thinks he sees where this is going.Â
âWhy?â he asks, leaning back and encouraging you to look at him. âAre you insanely turned on?â
âWhâthatâsâI didnât say that!â
Spencer can feel how warm your cheeks are as he presses his lips to the side of your face.Â
âYou can tell me if you are,â he murmurs, all smiley as he moves to kiss your lips. âIf you want something, you need to ask for it. Iâm not a mind reader.â
âYes you are,â you grumble. âThatâs literally what behavioral analysis is.â
Not quite true, but surprisingly, he doesnât feel the need to explain to you the semantics of what he does for work right now.Â
âWhat got you all excited?â
âYou know what,â you mumble, trying to look away again. Spencer doesnât allow it this time, gently grabbing your jaw.Â
âYes, I do. But I want you to tell me. If you want me to make you feel good, this is how youâre going to convince me that you deserve it.â
You whine wordlessly, looking at him with those big, lust-glazed eyes.
âYou wanted me to teach you how to use your words, right? This is it. Iâm giving you an opportunity. If you donât want to, thatâs okay. Maybe we can take a nap, like you said earlier.â
âNo! I likedâum, I liked all of it. I didnât know if I would, because I was really nervous. But when I firstâyou knowâand you got all quiet⊠it was like you couldnât even talk for a minute. I was kind of proud of that. Because normally nobody can ever get you to stop talking.â Spencer narrows his eyes incredulously, a small smile tugging at his lips. But he doesnât interruptânot when it seems youâre finally starting to get more confident in your words. âAnd I really liked the noises you made. I think that was my favorite part. I liked when you pulled my hair back, and how you spoke to me. And when⊠when you got me messy and I had to swallow it. I really liked how it felt because I couldnât think of anything else, just making you feel good. I really wanted to⊠make you proud, I guess. Is that weird?â
Spencer shakes his head no, a fond smile on his face when your eyes meet his again.Â
âNo. Itâs a pretty normal thing to feel when youâre nervous and wanting to impress someone you care about. And I would have been proud no matter what, for the record. You were being very brave.â
You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, watching him expectantly. Spencer should have known youâre too needy to truly absorb anything he says to you right now. Which is actually pretty cute. Everything you do is endearing to him.Â
âStand up.â
You frown.Â
âButââ
âJust stand up,â he demands calmly, preferring to think of himself as firm and not bossy.Â
You do, looking rather annoyed and confused as you plant yourself in front of him.Â
âWhy?â
âYou are so full of questions.â His hands slip up the side of your legs, under your skirt, and hook in the waistband of your underwear. Spencer looks up at you meaningfully and you nod, swallowing.Â
As he pulls down, Spencer can literally feel the resistance of the fabric clinging to your soaked core. Under his touch the skin of your thighs is warm and soft. He wants to feel it on either side of his face, he wants to hear you whine as his stubble rubs against it, he wants to feel it clamp around his wrist, he wants it between his teeth and he definitely wants it pressing against his hips as heâ
But no.Â
There will be time for all of those thingsâespecially the last oneâlater. For now, heâll reach between your legs just to seeâ
âOh, my god,â Spencer half-chuckles, half-groans, upon feeling how wet you truly are for him. He drags his knuckles from your dripping entrance up over your clit, pinching very lightly and earning a squeak from you which he ignores. âYou really did like having your mouth full of me, huh?â
âI told you,â you breathe, visibly relaxing some as he continues to play with you for a moment. Then he pulls his hand away again, patting his thigh.Â
âSit.â
âYou want me toâŠâ
âYes,â he says, simply.Â
âBut is it not going to⊠am I not going to mess up your pants?â
âYou are even more neurotic about messiness than I am. I can wash them, honey. Come here.â
Spencer guides your hips over his thigh, watching your pretty face twist with uncertainty as you fully settle on him. Fuck, he can feel your warmth through the fabric instantly. Already heâs getting hard again.Â
âWhat am I supposed to do?â you whisper, bunching his shirt in your fists. Spencer slides your skirt up higher, revealing the way youâre nestled against his thigh. He spreads you a little further apart, exposing more of your clit to the material underneath you. Immediately you press against himâhe watches the delicate flesh rubbing gingerly against him and  his grip tightens ever so slightly.Â
âAll you have to do is rock back and forth. Itâs easy.â
Already youâre starting to do itâbut he guesses itâs like earlier where you donât even realize itâs happening.Â
âBut⊠I wanted your mouth,â you admit, quietly, slinging your arms around his neck and burying your face there.Â
âDo this for me first. Just get yourself off like this one time and then you can have my mouth. You said you wanted to help me feel better because Iâm tired today, right?
âYes,â you mumble, squirming over him.Â
âWell, there are a lot of days when I get back home and Iâm tired. Iâm gonna need you to be able to get on top of me, just like this, and make me feel better. And I know you donât know what it feels like to have something that deep inside of you yet, but itâs gonna be a lot. Even once you know how it feels to have me inside when youâre underneath me. I need you to practice for me right now so youâll be ready, okay?â
You could come from the words alone. You nod, dazed with need as you roll your hips in a circle, pressing his thigh against your clit.Â
âBack and forth, baby,â he murmurs, guiding your hips forward with his hands locked around them. âBack and forth, just like thisâŠâ
You moan quietly, shamelessly, eyes fluttering as you look down and watch your clit dragging over the darkening fabric. Itâs easier if you isolate your hips, grinding down without moving your legs or upper body at all.Â
âIt feels really good,â you whisper under your quickening breath.Â
âYeah? Does it?â
âMhm.â
âGood, angel. You look like you know what youâre doing.â
Itâs audible now, quiet and wet and dirty.Â
âI donât,â you breathe. He sucks in a breath of his own, stilling your hips with fingers pressed deep into your flesh.Â
âSit up, baby.â You really wish he would stop making you stop, but you donât want to keep going in case he needs you to quitâso you rise slowly, thighs trembling as you kneel. Spencer groans at the strings of your arousal momentarily connecting your core to his pants before they snap, getting your inner thighs wet. Thereâs a dark, very wet patch over his thigh, shining like glass. He thumbs over your slick clit absentmindedly as he looks up at you like youâre a miracle. âYouâre fucking soaked. Iâve never seen you like this. Is this all from making me come?â
You nod feverishly, hips grinding against nothing in search of friction. He sits you back down on his leg, allowing you to sloppily find your rhythm again. Spencer bounces his leg lightly and you cry out softly, buckling forward. His arms wrap around you, still pressing you down against his thigh as you rut against it.Â
âYouâre sweet. Maybe I should have known how much youâd like it when I came all over your pretty face. You really like hearing that you did a good job, huh? I bet you like it even more when I prove it to you.â
You moan a âyeah,â barely processing his words.Â
âMy good girl even swallowed on her first try. Took it so well. And now look at how youâre taking this. Youâre gonna love riding, baby. Just going to be another thing youâre good at as soon as you try it.â
âSpencer,â you gasp, overwhelmed by the praise. Heâs bouncing his leg at regular intervals and everything is so sensitive.
âI know itâs harder to finish this way, but just one time, remember? And then you can have my tongue for as long as you want. You are my only plan for the day. Just give me one like this.â
But itâs not really harder to finish this way. Then again, youâre so turned on you could probably finish if a breeze hit you just right. Regardless, the thought of him going down on you again pushes you even closer to the edge.
You donât know how much time goes by like that, you rubbing against him like itâs the last thing youâll ever do, him pressing up into you until the pressure is so taut it snaps. Thereâs no time to warn him, but you suppose you donât really need to. You writhe against him, caught between wanting to keep going and not being able to take more stimulation. He lifts you up just slightly, trying to separate you from his leg. You exhale deeply as your body relaxes, already close to dozing off against his chest.
âWe canât have you tapping out just yet. I still have to fulfill my end of the deal.â
In the end, he fulfills it three times over, and you end up showing your appreciation in kind one more timeâmuch slower and more comfortably in his bed. He gives you plenty of time to learn what he likes, taking your teasing and coquettish explorations like a champ and never so much as tightening his grip in your hair. Turns out, you don't exactly spend the day doing nothing.
And you do end up taking that nap after all. Just... much, much later. And with less clothing on.
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part 3.5
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid smut#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fic#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid x#spencer reid angst#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#criminal minds smut#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds imagine
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nothing hurts me more than seeing ellie be written as a stone cold cheating dom who is really rough and mean to her gf, and honestly just lacks personality in general?? letâs not forget that ellie is just a girl who needs her girlfriend!!
18+, mdni, strap-on sex (e! reviving), teeniest bit of angst? oral mentions (r! receiving)
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gf!ellie who sometimes just wants to be the little spoon! sheâs sooo nervous about it for no reason. youâll obviously poke fun at her for it, reassuring her that itâs not a big deal, but sheâll still never outright ask you to spoon her.
ellie had been hesitant to let you roll away from her tonight, youâd offered her the comfort of spooning you to which she kindly denied with a gentle smile and a shake of her head. figuring it wasnât that much of a big deal, you said goodnight like normal and i turned away from one another (touching butts as usual). after laying there for a few minutes, the sound of what you can only assume is teeth chattering begins to fill the quiet of your shared bedroom. is that ellie? the thought lingers for a moment until the feeling of ellieâs little butt wriggling against your own drags you from your mind, causing you to look back over your shoulder at her curled up frame in the darkness. âyou okay els?â your voice is a gentle whisper, ellie nodding in response to your question before she responds back, her voice too barely above a whisper. âiâm jusâcoldâ your arm is draped over her waist in seconds, your front pressing up against her back as your face nuzzles into the back of her neck. what ellie wants, ellie gets.
gf!ellie who sometimes just needs a hug. :(
patrol can get overwhelming for her sometimes, exhausting her body and mind to the point she canât even speak coherent words as her bottom lips quivers, her fingers coming up to pinch her baggy eyes as if to close the dam threatening to overflow. âoh elâsâ you coo, reaching out for her just as she crumbles into your arms.
gf!ellie who can never shut up about you. constantly telling jesse about how much of a dork you are and how you âmatch her dorkegyâ (dork energy). poor dina has to always give her advice on how to make you feel better after sheâs accidentally upset you for the 2948593923th time, like i said she is just a girl!! joel is usually the one asking ellie about yourself, always wanting to know what the two of you have been getting up to because isnât he just so dndosjrnd???
gf!ellie who just wants to hold your hand while her tongue sends you to heaven and back. every time you moan her name or just make a noise she likes, squeeze. ellie lovessss squeezes. your hand? she squeezes i. love. you. whenever she canât say it. your thighs? she canât keep her hands off. your cheeks? youâre too cute thatâs not her fault??
gf!ellie who sometimes just wants you to fill her up with your dick strap.
ploughing into her from behind, ellie propped up on her elbows with her head held low, her pretty whimpers and groans egging you on. âtakinâ me sâgood elâs, howâs it feel hmm?â you canât help but poke fun, enjoying the role swap a little too much. âfeels s- fuckâ poor girl canât even speak, her words falling apart in the back of her throat. how did you let her do this to you so much? youâve only just started and sheâs just about ready to have a warm bath and watch one of the many movies from her very proud collection.
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#lil short one to start off#first time writing for ellie!!#not sure if anyone has realised yet but my username is just serephites with a q LMAO#it felt so wrong not writing for anyone in tlou w my user#always open for reqs <3#iâll write for ellie#abby#and dina#!!!!#ellie williams#ellie williams x female reader#ellie williams x you#ellie williams smut#ellie williams fluff#ellie williams x reader
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KINKTOBER DAY 3 - Orgasm Denial (+ age gap): Ryuken Ishida x Female Reader
Requested by Anonymous
Summary: Dr. Ishida was a brilliant doctor, earning the praise of all those working at Karakura Hospital. His dedication to his work inspired you to become a doctor yourself, leading you to work at the same hospital. Years have gone by, and the staff continue to praise the Head Director's work, but how little do they know how much control he seeks, especially with you.
TW: MDNI! Slight age gap between Ryuken and you (but you're older than Uryuu), orgasm denial, use of sex toys, oral sex (male receiving), dirty talk, slight hints of a dom/sub relationship.
Word count: 1849
Read on AO3 here.
You made your way through your unit, conducting your regular rounds to visit your patients. Reviewing patient chart, after patient chart, and listening to the worries and concerns from your patientsâ loved ones, you were weary by the time you reached the nursing station.
But as exhausted as you were, you worked hard for this career and loved being a doctor. You thanked the staff for their hard work today. One of the nurses wanted your consultation on the next steps of a patientâs discharge plan, when Dr. Ishida, the head director of the Karakura Hospital entered the ward.
You bowed your head politely but continued your discussion with the nurse. The charge nurse informed you on the general updates of their unit to him. You didnât pay close attention to their conversation but noticed him walking away to the next unit.
Once he was out of earshot, some of the nurses and residents gushed about him, âDr. Ishida is so handsome.â One said, followed by someone else chiming in âheâs such an incredible doctor, his patients seem to adore him.â Comment after comment, praising him for being a talented doctor and leader for the hospital.
The nurse who you were speaking with quietly asked you, âI mean, isnât that why you decided to work at this hospital, Doctor?â
âI mean, who wouldnât want to work with Dr. Ishida?â A fellow responded, laughing loudly.
The small group laughed, with you joining in. Once the laughter died down, you shared with the group your reasons for working at the Karakura Hospital. You had long admired the work of Dr. Ishida, and you had seen his bedside manner and care for a distant relative of yours while you were in high school.
You had always been driven to become a doctor, but he set the standard for you on how a doctor should be. He was thoughtful and driven.
But people have always said âdonât meet your heroes.â You worked hard during medical school, during residency and your fellowship, and you achieved your goal for working in Karakura Hospital.
But how would the staff react to knowing their wonderful Dr. Ishida, so dutiful to medicine and his patients, was dating one of the much younger doctors?
When the two of you had begun dating, he was strict, as if he was compartmentalizing his feelings for you and his duty to the hospital as a medical professional. You would see this in action with Ryukenâs own young adult son, a man a few years younger than you. Ryuken was cold with his son, the few times the three of you would have dinner together, but tried to be patient with Uryuu nonetheless. And in private, would talk about Uryuu with a gentle tone in his voice.
From what you had seen about Ryuken, from work to his personal life, control was of upmost importance to him. If there was one thing you knew for certain about the man, he hated rumours and gossip. You never felt as if he was ashamed of his relationship with you, but more so that there was a distinction between romance, work, and everything else in his life.
The nursing staff would be aghast as to how he was like in the bedroom though, you laughed to yourself. The nurse you were speaking asked what was funny, âoh nothing, I was just reminding myself of what the fellow said earlier.â You gave a gentle smile. âIf thereâs anything else I need to review, please bring it to me, or else Iâll be heading out now.â You said to the attending nurses.
It was your day off, a rare event in your life. You had already planned out your day â reading, reading, and more reading. You wanted to be up to date in your field, learning and understanding any new research that had come to light.
But Ryuken had other plans. The man was never one for texting, but rather call you, leaving you a voicemail stating he would be visiting your place for lunch.
You werenât particularly fussed about lunch, making something simple, yet filling for the two of you. You also knew Ryuken hated being too full at work.
Ryuken had brought you a coffee, and a shopping bag from a store you didnât recognize, but he left it alone for the entirety of lunch. Lunch was quiet affair, as he asked you what you had done so far during the day. You shared with him interesting articles you had read, discussing with him new techniques and technologies on the way. Ryuken smiled at you softly, watching the way you lit up sharing these things with him.
The hour went by quickly, with Ryuken preparing his leave, but just before he left, he gave you the shopping bag. âI made a reservation for dinner, and I want you to wear this.â He said, his tone even as he quickly checked his tie in the mirror by your door.
âThank you? But I have plenty of dresses I could have worn.â You said, carefully peering into the bag.
âI know, but I saw this on a mannequin in store and thought of you when I saw it.â Ryuken remarked, his voice cold, as if he were telling you the time. But you knew he was sincere in his actions. Gifts from him were truly thoughtful matters.
You smiled at the bag, seeing white fabric inside, âIâm happy to wear it.â You kissed him on the cheek, smelling the faint scent of cigarettes, and watched him depart for the hospital.
Ryuken had bought you a simple, cream-coloured maxi dress with billowy sleeves, yet fairly form fitting at the top, nipping you at the waist. It then fell to a floating skirt below. The sleeves had little accents of blue and grey, which reminded you of some of the clothing Ryuken wore, leading you to question if had truly bought it, or had it custom made.
Either way, you adorned yourself with simple jewelry, make up and footwear, waiting for Ryuken to arrive.
As soon as you had finished getting ready, Ryuken was at your door, but he didnât usher you to leave with him just yet.
âIt fits you like a glove.â He remarked, inspecting your figure. âBut itâs missing something.â
Confusion spread across your face as he pulled you to your bedroom. He pushed you on to the bed and looked down on you. His face was stern, as if he were assessing you for something. You were nervous.
âDo you trust me?â He asked, as he looked straight into your eyes.
âYes, of course? But whatâs wrong?â Confusion echoed through your voice, wondering why he was acting this way. He was usually very direct, so matter-of-fact in his words and actions.
âYou ignored me yesterday,â Ryuken remarked, pushing your legs apart. The familiar drop of arousal came with it, as the skirt of your dress began to ride up your thighs. You shuddered from his touch as he coldly stared at you.
âYou were busy, I didnât want to interrupt.â You whimpered out, as he pushed your skirt past your underwear.
You had decided to wear a nude thong, worried that the dress was a bit sheer. Ryuken clicked his tongue in approval of your choice.
âYou wonât be needing this.â Ryuken said, with an indifferent tone, as he pulled your thong off your body.
âBut what about our reservation?â You shrieked, âwonât we be late?â
âI cancelled it.â Ryuken calmly explained.
It was then he pulled something out of his pocket. It was a remote-controlled vibrator you were curious about. That was so long ago, you thought. You were casually browsing an online sex toy shop at Ryukenâs home, and he asked what you were looking at it. You made a passing comment about how you thought the vibrator looked fun but paid no mind to it. But Ryuken certainly did.
Ryukenâs warm fingers spread your pussy lips apart, with his thumb circling your clit. You moaned softly as his thumb rubbed against your clit gently. Soon Ryukenâs finger was circling your entrance before he pushed it in. He pumped his finger out of you, your pussy growing wetter with each motion, before he pulled his hand away.
You whined at the sudden loss, until you felt something unfamiliar gently stretch your pussy and something else grazing your clit.
It was then, Ryuken got off the bed and watched over you, his phone in his hand. As soon as you tried to get up, an intense pulse came from the snug toy inside your pussy, followed by a whirring of something pressed against your clit. You screamed at the intensity, writhing as Ryuken toyed with the different levels of the toy, a satisfied smirk appearing on his lips.
The vibrations were relentless, as you felt tears prick your eyes. Your pussy clamped around the toy as its clit portion pulsated at random intervals â you couldnât discern its pattern.
âIâm going to cum!â You shrieked, as you gripped your bed sheets.
Then the vibrations stopped. Ryuken immediately grabbed your face in one hand, his eyebrows knitted, âyou know better than that.â He sneered, to which you whined in response. You needed to cum so badly. Ryukenâs hand flew to your hair, grabbing a fistful, forcing you to look up at him. âYouâre not allowed to cum unless I say you can. Did you forget that?â He ordered, the grip on your hair tightening.
You sobbed as you felt your pussy throb from being so close to relief. âIâm sorry sir, please let me cum.â
Ryuken smirked, âgood girlâ, letting go of your hair. He kneeled next to you, unzipping his pants and pulling out his soft cock. âBut even better girls please their master before cumming.â As he pulled your head to his cock.
You began to lap at his tip, feeling him twitch and harden against your mouth. You sucked his tip, feeling the taste of his precum on your lips, before working your way down.
It was then you jolted, as the vibrator worked its magic again. You moaned around Ryukenâs cock, with his steady hand back on your head, slowly forcing his cock down your throat. Tears pricked your eyes, as you felt your pussy throb and spasm, but you couldnât cum. You tried to steal your resolve on sucking Ryuken off, as you bobbed your head on his cock.
The vibrations were relentless, with Ryuken giving a cold stare at you, watching you struggle to keep your pace. He narrowed his eyes, as he pulled you off his cock, a string of your saliva linking your mouth to the tip of his cock, âyouâve been slacking off, slut.â Ryuken coldly explained, as he gripped his cock, gently tapping your face with it. âBut we have all night, so open your mouth.â Flashing you another smirk as the vibrator increased in intensity.
Your eyes rolled as the vibrator continued to whirl around you, while your mouth was stuffed with Ryukenâs cock.
This was going to be a long night indeed.
Thanks for reading! This mini-fic was set to Hidden Face's "White Carousel."
#bleach#ryuken ishida#ishida ryuken#bleach smut#bleach fanfiction#ryuken ishida smut#ryuken ishida x you#ryuken ishida x reader#bleach x reader#bleach x you#bleach imagines#a writes#kinktober#anonymous#ryuuken ishida#ishida ryuuken#ryuuken ishida x you#ryuuken ishida x reader#kinktober 2024
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12:15am , E-42 Miles
Summary Miles just really needs his lover
a/n none
warnings mentions of threats, near death experience, death, trauma (?) angst w love/fluff
âcome overâ
Was all the text read, sent at 12:15. Miles had a tendency of getting home late from his job, but when it was past 11, it usually meant something went wrong.
It didnât even take a minute for you to grab your coat, throw on the hood and head out the door. You took the elevator down and took a late night cab to the place, seeing as how it was dangerous for a girl to walk the streets at night since they could, and most likely would fall victim to lots of crimes.
You tipped the driver, before stepping out infront of the building only for Mrs. Morales to open the door and let you in with a smile, but worried expression on her face.
âHola mija..â you smiled at her softly; âHola, ÂżEl estĂĄ bien?â You asked, not speaking too loudly. She just shook her head; âYo no sĂ© mija, he just- wonât talk to meâ she sounded worried as she lead you up the stairs and into their apartment.
âTalk to him, por favor Mijaâ she held one of your hands between both of hers, with a pleading look in her eyes. âOf courseâ you placed yours on top of hers squeezing before turning to go into milesâ room.
You didnât even knock, simply opening the door and closing it behind you. The room was pitch black, the only light coming from the moon as this side of town was always dark. âMiles?â You whispered, trying your best to find his figure.
Then you heard rustling in the bed, and miles peaked his head out. âVida mia,..ÂżQue paso?â You cooed, making your way to the bed and sitting next to him.
He only turned to face you, tired eyes boring into yours. âNada..pero I just really need you right nowâ he mumbled, arms snaking around you and pulling you closer so that his face was now in your lap.
Your heart pounded, but ached at the sight of how exhausted he looked. You lightly tapped him making motions for him to sit up, to which he did, slowly. He gave you a questioning hm, his eyes still giving you that same look.
âI know you donât want to talk about it, but youâre worrying us all. At least tell me something, anythingâ your hands on his neck and cheek, caressing him as if heâd break.
He sighed and closed his eyes; he swallowed the lump in his throat thinking about the situation earlier that night. âThey..almost had me todayâ You could hear the pain in his voice, and the way his face twisted when he thought about it.
You wrapped your arms around him, legs now sprawled out across the bed as you pulled him in. âOh miles..â was all you could get out, holding him so tightly. He almost died today, and it was a possibility it could happen again. âjust the thought of loosing you..fuckâ you squeezed him, tears threatening to spill.
His arms were now hooked under yours, holding you. âIâm sorry mamĂâ was all he could mumble, a tear now falling down his cheek.
âItâs not your fault miles, Iâm sorry I couldnât be there for youâ you loosened your grip, rubbing circles on his back, and one hand coming up to wipe the tear from his face.
It was rare miles let you treat him like this, ever since his father passed he believed it was his job to provide and protect, take the role of âthe man of the houseâ. He forced himself to grow up faster.
âIâm just so glad youâre okayâ you mumbled, placing a kiss at the top of his braids. You both laid there staring at the night sky from his window.
Miles enjoyed the feeling of being held and comforted, being cared for. But he knows sooner or later heâd go back to the role he played, and have to tell you the truth.
the truth being how they held him at gunpoint, retrained, then threatened to kill you if he ever, stepped out of line again.
#spider verse#across the spiderverse#earth 42#miles morales prowler#animals#architecture#miles morales x reader#prowler!miles x reader#miles morales#prowler!miles
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slow starts
feat. sae note: i just needed some fluff (life is so hard đą), unedited contains: fluff, possibly ooc total: 727
Before you opened your eyes, you felt his arms around your waist, pulling you into his chest. Sae laced his fingers with yours and rubbed the back of your hand.
âMorninâ,â he said in his raspy morning voice.
âShut up,â you groaned. Slowly opening an eye, the sun-illuminated curtains flooded your vision and brightened your bedroom. Mild irritation built within you before you eventually rolled over and pressed yourself against Sae.
He rolled his eyes before kissing your forehead. âItâs morning, y/n.â Sae reached over to the side table for his phone, trying not to jostle you too much. 11:17. He kissed his teeth at the frustration of sleeping in much later than he intended to, which explained why he felt so groggy.
âItâs eleven in the morning, y/n. Weââ
âAll the more reason to stay in bed.â You placed a finger to his lips. âStop talking so I can go back to sleep,â you whispered.
âYouâll have to get up eventually.â
You didnât respond, ignoring everything Sae said to capture any remnants of sleep you had left.
Sae scoffed but relaxed into you. He didnât want to admit it but felt nice to finally not have to get up at five every morning to train. His muscles werenât screaming in exhaustion, and he could finally recharge his social battery. The stress of travelling the world for the last 4 months had gotten the best of him. Constant training, games, and interviews, rinse and repeat.
Sae sighed and closed his eyes. Maybe you were right, this is the perfect excuse to lie in even if it was for an extra hour before he forced himself to become human again.
That is until the sound of your stomach growling cut through the air like a hot knife to butter.
âHey Sae?â
He hummed without opening his eyes.
âI think you might be hungry. And I also think you should make us breakfast.â
âWhat? That wasnât meââ
âOh, you should definitely make waffles,â you sighed, almost salivating at the thought.
âWe donât have a waffle iron.â Sae began to shuffle to the edge of the bed to put his slippers on. âIâll make pancakesâhe stood upâand youâre helping me.â
Before you registered what heâd said, Sae had already thrown you over his shoulder and was carrying you to the kitchen. He put you down and instructed that you get the ingredients from the fridge while he got everything else.
Cooking with Sae was like working a well operated machine. Heâd set up stations around the kitchen to avoid bumping into each other, but he just had an air of authority about him, especially when he was concentrating.
After mixing together the pancake batter, you watched his piercing green eyes as they focused on the task at hand, flipping the pancakes. It may not seem like serious business but Sae liked his pancakes to be even on both sides. He was always very proud of himself when heâd manage to pull it off, walking around with a smug smile until his inflated ego was ultimately burst by the fact that pancakes were meant to be eaten, not hung as trophies.
You cleaned up while Sae set the table, bringing out the extortionately expensive maple syrup you only used for special occasions, such as Saturday mornings. Itâs Thursday.
When you sat down at the table, you questioned him about it.
âWhat? I canât treat my girl?â
You raised an eyebrow before digging in. âThish ish sho good,â you said with your mouth full.
âAre they? Maybe we should start a business. Pancake restaurant? Itâs a very unique ideaâ
âShut up and answer my question.â
Sae put down his utensils and cleared his throat which made your ears perk up. âIâm thinking of taking a break from footballâŠnot for long, just for a season.â
âOh. Thatâs okay.â You leaned back into your seat. âI thought you were gonna tell me something crazy.â
âBut this is important, it affects you too.â
âI know, but I also know youâve been stressedâyou put your hand over hisâtake care of yourself before you start thinking about anyone else, okay?â
He nodded while pressing his lips together in disgust.
Your brows raised in confusion.
Sae gently lifted your hand off of his. âYouâre sticky.â
You scoffed before rolling your eyes and continuing your breakfast.
m.list | like & reblog
#by xena#blue lock#bllk sae#blue lock sae#sae x reader#blue lock x reader#bllk#itoshi sae#sae itoshi#bllk x reader#bllk x you#sae x y/n#sae itoshi x reader#sae itoshi fluff#sae fluff#bllk fluff
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good morning!! it's @henderdads' birthday!!!! happy happy happy birthday to youuuu cass!!!
The minute Eddie Munson turned 18, he could see it; the only color he would see until he and his soulmate kissed for the first time.
Yellow.
Rays and rays of warm yellow sunshine, the middle light (and middle light only) of the one stoplight in town, one half of their school colors, the dandelions spotted agross the grass between the trailers, the stubborn daffodils that keep reappearing in Ms. Wilsonâs garden though sheâs long since passedâŠ
The half-toned things heâs told are green, half yellow, half blue, and that he got lucky his soulmateâs favorite color wasnât black or gray (then he felt glad heâd settled on a different color than either of those by time he was older, he didnât want to subject his soulmate to more black and white..
After Steve Harrington turns 18, he can see the color of the lipstick his mom wore in their last family portrait, the color of the punch that gets spilled all over Nancyâs shirt at Tinaâs halloween party, the stripes and piping on his godforsaken Scoops uniform, the red of his own blood rushing down the drain beneath his feet.
The dark tone puddled beneath Eddieâs limp body in the Upside Down.
The same color splashed onto Dustinâs arms and legs.
Pressing his hands into it to stop it from spreading, to start it flowing again, Steve presses his lips to Eddieâs onceâŠhe hasnât done CPR since he worked at the poolâŠ.twiceâŠâCâmon man, donât leave him like this.â....
The third time is when it happens.
The feeble beat of Eddieâs heart starting again, the push of breath into his lungs, the sudden flood of cool, dark colors around them.Â
âEddie? Eddie! Câmon man, stay with me.â
It looks like it takes a herculean effort to do so, but Eddieâs eyes open. âHâhey, Harrington. Whââ
âIâm going to pick you up now, Ed,â Steve says, doing just that, tucking Eddie into his chest and starting for the trailer. âEl is keeping the gate open for us but we gotta hurry.â
The four of them manage to get him out through the gate and into the RV, this time with Nancy behind the wheel.Â
Having to let him go at the doors to the ER is one of the hardest things heâs ever had to do, but he manages, Robin telling him over and over again that sheâd already called Eddieâs Uncle and that heâd be safe.
While theyâre waiting, filthy and exhausted but victorious nonetheless, Nancy says to him: âItâs blue, by the way. TheâŠeverything down there has some sort of blue tinge to it.â
Steve doesnât ask how she knew, just appreciates that he can look at something and sheâll tell him the name of the color.Â
The pattern of the chairs is orange and purple, the plant in the corner is green (âAll plants are some shade of it for the most part.â), the wallpaper is his favorite though.
âItâs yellow.â
âI guess I know what color Eddieâs been seeing the past few years..â Itâs the first and last thing he says until Wayne Munson comes to get them.
âYou three needâta be looked at too. Not jusâ Henderson.â
He leads them back to a room, and Steve recognizes Dr. Owens there waiting for them.
They get looked over, they get cleaned up, and Steve gets a shot of something thatâs supposed to help stave off anything those flying rats may have given him.
And for the next week, he stays.Â
He and Wayne maintain a constant vigil at Eddieâs bedside. Wayne leaves for his shifts when he has to, Steve is allowed to stay because of his soulmate status, and Eddie wakes up a little more than a week later.
Wayne had left a couple hours ago, so Steve will have to call him at the plant but first: âSteve?â Eddie manages to croak out when his eyes crack open the first time.
âHey Eds, welcome back to the world of the living.â
Eddie shuts his eyes and huffs a laugh, then cringes, âStill painful as always, I see.â
âOh yeah? What else do you see?â
Steve watches his brow furrow as he tries to make sense of the question, watches as he opens his eyes again, a bit further this time, and when they widen in amazement as they travel around the room.
âWhatâ? What the hell..?â The heightened beeping of his heart monitor makes Steve feel almost giddy, getting to watch him see this for the first time. âWhat nurse kissed me while I was out?â He pauses, staring down a painting of colorful wildflowers on the opposite wall before turning back to Steve. âAnd can they come back so I can get more pain meds?â
Steve chuckles as he stands stiffly from the hospital chair heâd been all but glued to for the last week, reaching over Eddieâs head to press the call button.
âWhatâs so funny?â
âYou, of course.â
âThank you, I try, but whatâd I do this time?â
âIt wasnât a nurse, Eds.â
Eddie blinks at him for a moment, confused, âI donât quite have the brainpower for riddles, Stevie.â
Steveâs stomach flips at the nickname, âIt wasnât a nurse, it was when we were still in theâdown there.â he pauses, feeling suddenly embarrassed. Did Eddie want it to be him? His first assumption was one of the nurses⊠âSomeone had to give you CPR.â
He watches as Eddie scrolls through what he can only assume is a roster of their âTeam Vecnaâ; Nancy? Itâs been known that sheâs been able to see in full color since she and Jonathan got together. Dustin? Yeah..no. Roâ
âAnd it wasnât Robin.â Steve says when he sees Eddieâs lips curl into an âRâ.
âThen whoââ
It dawns on him at the same time the summoned nurse arrives with a new shot of whatever it is he needs.
She leaves with an excited âWeâll call Wayne!â, and Eddie drops his head back to his pillow.
Steveâs stomach twists anxiously. âEddie?â
âSo youâre telling me that the one and only Steve Harrington gave me the kiss of life and also the gift of colorvision, and I wasnât conscious enough to experience it properly?â
Steve ducks his head, scratching behind his ear nervously. âUhâŠyeahâŠ? Sorry Eddiââ
âCan you do it again?â
His head snaps up again, âHuh?â
âAnd preferably before I lose the battle for my consciousness?â
Eddieâs face is soft and open, a smile quirking the pink of his lips and crinkling those dark eyes of hisâŠWho is Steve to tell him no?
He smiles softly in return and stands.
Leaning forward with his weight braced to one side of Eddieâs head, the other hand coming up to cup his uninjured cheek, Steve kisses him properly for the first time.
The first of many many many more to come.
eeee i hope you liked this little thing!!! i've never written anything w soulmates before!! đ„č i hope you have the most bestest day today, friend!! đ«¶đ«¶
#i looked back at your trope tier list for this đ#damn was that tag game useful or what?#steddie#steve harrington x eddie munson#steve harrington#eddie munson#soulmates#st#stranger things#eddie munson x steve harrington#steveddie#eddeve#noelle writes
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My Top Aaron Quotes
men who are just constantly tired of everything>>>>>
âWell buckle up, wiz kid.â
âSo yeah, I am gonna miss you. Iâm really gonna miss you.â
âSue me. Except donât. My brain is already fried from the financials, I donât need to throw legalese on top of that.â
âFuck it. Thereâs nothing in here I canât replace. I want you."
âOliverâ
âI didnât say IÂ wanted to spend the day with you, I asked if you wanted to spend the day with me. I asked first.â
"Ell"
âHey, stop it. Because you know how much I like you running your fingers through my hair. Makes my brain go all fuzzy.â
âI appreciate it. And you.â
âOh, itâs not playing dirty. Itâs just me making you feel good.â
âI didnât realise I was apparently dating an anthropomorphic backpack.â
âH-heyâstop it. Youâno, your kisses are just⊠it tickled. Shut up. So what if my sides are ticklish, itâs not like thatâs weird, you shit.â
âOh, and now you canât even find the strength to lift your head out of my lap, hmm? You poor thing. Who knew that being lazy could be so exhausting?â
âI love you very much. Now get off me.â
âYou talked a big talk back then. But it turns out youâre just a cuddle-hungry softy after all, huh? Yes you are. At least when youâre still sleepy, anyway.â
âI also know youâre probably the kind to fly off half-cocked and make me chase you down with the SPF 50 like a madman. If for no other reason than to infuriate me.â
âCome here. Come closer. Because I said so.â
âI love you. And I love rain. And I love being with the person I love while it rains. Isnât that a fun little combo?â
âYou are very cute looking up at me like that.â
âOr is the thought of a few more minutes in my arms that much of an imposition? Asshole. Mmm. I love you too.â
âI canât even try to say a nice thing without you having to get some snark into it, can I? No, I wouldnât have it any other way. You brat. I love you just as you are.â
âYou make me better. And thatâs no small order when youâre talking about me, given the high level I already started at.â
âA manâs gotta eat. And youâve always been my favorite thing on the menu.â
âOh yes, youâre so put upon. Your evil boyfriend only makes you a whole breakfast spread, he wonât then also let you sleep in even later than you already have.â
âEliâ
âYes, in a shocking twist, I do find your absence unpleasant. Perish the thought, right?â
âTime spent with the people I care about is important to me. It doesnât have to be time doing anything special, it doesnât have to be conversations about our future or some greater purpose or any of that shit, I just want to be with the person that Iâm with.â
âSure, there are plenty of ways to sleep on a couch just fine. Itâs your hybrid approach that lands somewhere between gymnast and pretzel that tends to get you in trouble.â
âYouâre okay. Itâs gonna be okay.â
âIf it feels like it's coming on again, come tell us, okay?â
âI only met them a handful of times. They're sweet. They laugh a lot. They spent most of the time giving Elliott shit, it was funny. Not in like a mean way, like the way you do when you love somebody that much. They were a good balance for one another.â
âGod I sound old. And I feel old. And Iâm not, but it feels like it. A grumpy old man. Might as well start yelling at kids to not play so loud in the neighborhood, really complete the image.â
âStop calling me an old man, only Iâm allowed to call me old. Donât be mean. Iâm in a vulnerable state. I need baseless praise.â
âYes. Holding you feels very productive.â
âYeah. Let me just rub it on that pretty face for a little bitâŠâ
â Itâd be fine. Almost as fine as you. Iâm tired, Iâm allowed to be stupid.â
âEl, I have never hated you. Youâre my little brother, I love you.â
âNo the windows are mirrored glass. You should know that, you worked here.â
âWhose is it? Louderâ
âThank you baby. Yeah, thank you for trusting me like you do. [âŠ] All I wanna do is prove myself worthy of that trust.â
#havenât donât one of these in a while#been busy okay#redacted aaron#bubblerâs top quotes#redacted audio#redacted asmr#redactedverse
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Steve groans at the sound of his alarm, batting his hand around the side table until he hits it hard enough to shut it up. He gets up, rubbing his eyes as he moves to the bathroom on autopilot.
He's not just tired, he's exhausted. But he always is at Christmas. He struggles to get enough sleep at the best of times but, since Dustin would kill him if he's late, Christmas is the one time he has to wake up early. It's miserable, every year. The motels only add to his suffering.
As he's washing his face, he freezes. He quickly rinses his face, prodding at the skin. There's no lines, no wrinkles, no crows feet. He doesn't even have his beard. That's when he notices his hair. His hand shoots back, grabbing at the longer strands at the back of his neck.
He hasn't had his mullet for at least 30 years. Not since 1989.
Hurrying back to his room, he nearly recoils. He'd forgotten about the plaid walls and curtains. But he quickly brushes that aside, quickly looking around for anything out of the ordinary. He wishes he could just pull out his mobile, sure that Robin would-
Robin!
He darts down the stairs, to the main phone. But is immediately reminded of how bad the old phones were. He can't remember what Robins old number was and he's sure the one he does remember will be wrong. And it's not written down anywhere either.
But it starts ringing, just as he starts walking away.
"Hello?" He says, struggling to keep his voice even.
"When will you get here?" Dustin asks. "You said you'd be up by now!"
"Dustin, oh thank god, I'm so glad to hear your voice," Steve sighs, rubbing his forehead. "Something really fucking weird is going on with me, dude."
"Weird? Like... Upside Down weird?"
"What? El shut- or has... what year is it?"
"1985. Are you ok? What's going on?"
Steve laughs, high and hysterical. "Uh, well... when I went to sleep last night, it was still 2021, so... no. I'm not ok."
"Are you being serious?"
"Unfortunately. Wait, 1985... that means-"
"No! Don't tell me!" Dustin yells so loud that Steve has to pull the phone away from his ear for a moment. "You can't just tell people what's going to happen! You could change the future!"
"Good!"
"No, not good! You might be trying to make things better, but you could make them worse. Especially if you actually tell people what's going to happen. You need to be subtle."
"Subtle, right..." Steve looks towards the door, pondering. "Right... uh... I'll see you later."
"What? Steve-!"
He hangs up before Dustin can continue to scold him, hurrying up the stairs and throwing on the first clean polo and jeans he finds. His old trainers are at the bottom of the stairs, just as remembers them being- they'd lasted decades before they fell apart, even though they'd always been loose and worn enough that Steve could slide them on, even though he keeps them tied.
It takes him a while to drive to the trailer park. He takes a wrong turn, completely forgetting the way. It's been so long since he's been in Hawkins and, even then, he wasn't familiar with this route.
"Um, hi, sir," Steve says, trying to smile when faced with Eddies uncle. He's not sure if he was always so stand-off or if Eddies death did that to him. "Is- is Eddie home?"
He grunts, eyeing Steve. "Gimme a moment."
He shuts the door, but he doesn't leave Steve waiting for long.
Eddie is the one to open the door. He gently pushes Steve back from the door, gesturing for him to follow him. Steve jogs to keep up with his fast pace, too busy staring to pay attention to how tense he is.
"Alright, what do you want?" Eddie sounds annoyed. Impatient. He's glaring at Steve and crossing his arms.
He looks amazing.
"Right, sorry," Steve shakes his head. "Sorry. Uh, this... ok, there's no way I can say this without sounding insane, so I'm just gonna say it, alright?"
"... Alright?"
"Chrissy Cunningham is going to try and buy from you in March. I don't know what she asks for, but if it means you bring her back here, don't. Just- sell her some weed, whatever you can carry on you. Don't bring her back here."
"She your girlfriend, or something?"
"No. God no. I just... something bad will happen. I'm sorry, I know that's... I sound stupid. But please, please," Steve can't help but step forward, grabbing Eddies hand. "Please don't bring her back here."
"Ok, alright, I won't sell to her," Eddies eyes are a little wide. "Jesus. I'll take your word for it."
"Thank you. Thank you so much."
Eddie stares at him for a moment, raises a brow. "Is that it? You, uh, gonna let me go now, big boy?"
"Oh! Right, sorry, yeah. Um. Merry Christmas?"
"Yeah," Eddie laughs, starting to head back to the trailer. "Merry Christmas."
Dustin yells at him for an hour straight once he drives to his house. He's red in the face by the time he finishes and looks one wrong word away from hitting him. But Steves already done what he wanted to do, he won't change it now and he won't tell Dustin what he said so he can either.
But he does tell Dustin the time to start paying attention. Without Eddie to get them on the case, they won't figure out how to save Max in time. He doesn't tell Dustin anything either, just the date of Chrissys death. He wishes he could think of a way to save her, but his mind runs a blank. And Dustin won't let him ask him. And Dustin refuses to leave him alone long enough to ask anyone else.
By the time he goes to bed, he's happy to think that he's done enough. Though, like Dustin, he wonders what will happen next. If he'll stay in 1985 or wake up in the changed future. Wonders what that would mean for his past self.
He wakes up warm, comfortable, and well rested. Someone has their arms around his waist, pressed fully up behind him, light kisses trailing up his neck, along his jaw.
Steve hums, yawning. "Who's 'at?"
"Morning to you too," the person behind him snickers.
Curious, Steve turns. He freezes, eyes wide. "Eddie?"
"Who else would it be?" Eddie smirks, but that slowly drops, realization dawning on him. "You were just in the past, weren't you? Wait- shit, no, hold on, do you remember anything past that?"
"I don't- ow!" Steve squeezes his eyes shut, head throbbing. "Fuck. Ow, fucking... shit."
"What? What is it? Baby, what's wrong?"
"I don't know," Steve whines, clutching at his head. "You were dead but you- got a job at the record store?"
"Oh, ok, this is good," Eddie curls his arms around him, pulling him close. "This is good. Dustin said this might happen. It's the conflicting timelines or whatever. Your timeline catching up with the new one."
"What the fuck does that mean?"
"Honestly? I don't know. I just know that, like, you might have two sets of memories- or your original ones get forgotten, or something. But this... this is good. God, Stevie, the idea that you'd forget this current timeline..."
He tries to think of what might have changed, new memories or old ones he can't recall. It just makes his head hurt. "How long will it be until I, like... remember everything? I barely remember the 86 with you alive."
"Who knows. Weeks, maybe? Might always be confusing. But... um. I died? Was that... why you were so adamant that I didn't sell to Chrissy?"
"Yeah, it- it got you caught up in the, uh... stuff."
"The Upside Down? Yeah, I did get caught up in that. Hard not to when your town suddenly rips apart. So, what, I originally got caught up earlier?"
"Right at the start. You, uh... you died to save us."
"Now I know you're lying. I'm not one for the big hero moves, that's your job."
"Shut up," Steve snaps. He lifts his head so he can glare. "Shut up. You were a hero. You were- you are. You- you-"
"Hey," Eddie wraps him up in his arms, one hand coming up to brush through his hair. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that, Stevie, I'm really sorry. I'm ok though, yeah? You made sure of that. It's ok. I got you. I've got you. We're safe."
Steve sniffles, grimacing at the snot he leaves on Eddies top. The sight brings forth vague, distant memories- his but also... not.
"You do this a lot, huh?" Steve asks.
Eddie smiles, cupping his face, thumb brushing some tears off his cheek. "Yeah. It's not always easy, but I'm always here."
"Oh, wait... have I missed Christmas?"
"Just the day. Dustin remembered that you said 2021 so... we all wanted to wait. We're doing Christmas today."
"Really? Why?"
"Mostly because they wanted to be here, just in case. You made us promise, too."
"Just in case?"
"In case you forgot, baby. We don't know what you changed. Sandy is going to be very disappointed- she was excited to meet you again."
"Sandy?" Steve frowns, but the memory almost immediately hits him.
A baby, premature, and so small that she was barely bigger than his hands. Dustin's face, wet with tears but so proud, introducing the baby to Uncle Steve.
"Oh, Sandy," Steve whispers the name with reverence.
Eddie kisses him, almost desperately. He pulls back fast though. "Sorry, that was- fuck, Stevie. You're really remembering."
He sobs, startling Steve. "Woah, hey, Eds."
"Sorry. Fuck, we prepared so much but it... God, Steve, I don't think I'd be able to handle it if you never remembered again."
Steve presses a small, hesitant kiss to his cheek. "I don't think you'd have too much to worry about."
"Yeah, that's great," Eddie laughs. "My husband would've found me attractive even with amnesia."
"We're married?"
Eddie groans, flopping onto his back. "Of course that's what gets you excited. Time travel? Too boring for Steve Munson! Where's the adventure? But marriage?!" Eddie gasps dramatically. "Oh my, mister, that sounds mighty exciting!"
"Hey, I'm supposed to be the love of your life, stop being mean to me."
"Oh, don't go pouting at me like that, big boy. Even you should know that I have no self-restraint."
"Promise?"
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ÊáŽáŽÊáŽÊáŽáŽáŽ
tags/warnings: Ellie Williams x fem reader, fluff, angst, NOT !PROOFREAD! if u see any spelling mistakes no you didnât. Mention of depression, death, blood, and self harm!!! DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE NOT COMFORTABLE OR GET TRIGGED ON THOSE TOPICS!! (I am not responsible for that whatsoever)
(very) short Summary: How do you live when your heart is ripped out of your chest?
EVERYONE says that you donât find the love of your life till youâve actually experienced all of life. But you know thatâs not true. You knew who was the love of your life, how couldnât you? When she did everything and anything to see you smile, hear you laugh. How when you guys would fight, no matter if she was in the right or wrong she would always apologize to you, oh and how she spoiled you, she would work extra shifts just to buy you that beautiful necklace you wanted. And it for sure hurt her bank account but it didnât matter, seeing your reaction - she would have bought a million of those necklaces. And you didnât care about the gifts, of course you loved and appreciated them, all you needed was her, her touch, her voice. Just her fucking presence was enough for you. She was your world, your heartbeat as you were hers.
But no one prepares you to know that the one person who mattered in life, the one person who brought joy and happiness was ripped from your fucking arms.
ONE MONTH EAILER
âbabe, câmonnnn come tâ bedâ you whined after Ellie who was sitting at her gaming desk, so focused on playing Minecraft (which you both loved to play) âokay, okay Iâm comingâ she sighed, shutting down her console and padding over to your shared bed. Crawling into the foamed mattress where you lay. âMiss me that much, baby?â She cooed in a playful tease, wrapping her arm around your shoulder and you immediately curled into her chest, your cheek smushing against it. âShushâ you smiled, tilting your head to take in her oh so familiar scent, that was just so uniquely hers. âAll you do is play video games when you have a whole girl laying in your bedâ You muttered, she didnât just play video games all day. You might have been just a taaaad dramatic cause you missed her. âah ah, donât start, you lil brat. You know damn well all of my attention goes to youâ Ellie kissed her teeth, playfully pinching your cheek. She was so fucking in love with you that. âIâm not a brat, youâre a bratâ You scoffed, rolling your eyes but not able to contain the smile that peeked from your lips. âmmm okay, baby we can argue about who is the biggest brat laterâ Ellie let out a breath, pulling the blanket over your entwined forms, and settling into the pillows more comfortably, her eyes drooping out of exhaustion. âNow letâs sleep yeah?â She muttered, resting her cheek against the top of your head, the darkness of sleep taking her away into a land of dreams and slumber. But you couldnât sleep, you didnât know why you couldnât sleep but you couldnât. You listened to Ellie heartbeat, over and over again. Before finally speaking up. âEls..â you whispered, peering up at her half asleep form. She hummed in response, cracking one eye open to look at you. âDo you wanna know why this is my favorite way to cuddleâ You asked in a sweet, soft voice, âwhy, baby?â Ellie asked with her sleepy voice, her hand stroke the soft planes of your back. âBecause I get to listen to your heartbeatâ you whispered, one of your hand coming to toy with the hem of Ellieâs tank top âmy heartbeat?â She questioned in slight confusion âyeah, I like listening to it. Because it assures me that youâre here. That youâre alive and with meâ you begun, chewing the inside of your cheek âthat little thing in your chest, pumping and pumping to keep you alive, to keep you here with me.â You said, eyes kept on Ellieâs face. Ellie stayed silent for a long moment, before finally speaking. âThis heart is never gonna stop beating for you, sweetheartâ she whispered, the hand stroking your back coming to cup your cheek. âPromise?â You asked, bottom lip quivering âpromise.â
TWO WEEKS AGO
âIâm gonna run to the store, angel. Iâll be right backâ Ellie told you several hours ago, as she left with her pickup truck after you told her you guys are running short on groceries, you expected her back after around 2-3hours, she left at 12 and itâs now itâs almost 4pm. You thought maybe she got caught up with some friends, and forgot to tell you. But when you checked her location, it showed ânot availableâ âwhat the fuckâ you muttered to yourself, Ellie never turned off her location - never. A million things ran through your head, could she be cheating? No, no way she would never. She would rather die than cheat on you. You decided to call her. ring, ring, ring - line - she didnât answer, that was odd. You decided not to panic, surely she would come up, she has too.
Another several hours have passed now, and you were starting to worry, itâs almost 10 and not even a text from Ellie. What the fuck is going on, you thought to yourself. Trying so hard to not start panicking, maybe..fuck maybe she just took a nap in her car? God you were so worried. Eventually you took a nap, maybe to wake up with your loving girlfriend right by your side, safe and happy. Instead you were woken up by a loud banging on your door. You sprung up, immediately thinking it was Ellie. You almost tripped trying to get up to run to the door..but instead you were met with two police officers, holding their hats with a somber look on their facesâŠ
PRESENT DAY
How can a body function without its heart?
You donât know how long itâs been, how many days you have just rotted in your bed. Not having any energy to eat, or just get up and brush you teeth. God you must fucking reek. All you have the strength to do it bury yourself in Ellieâs fading scent, clutch into it and close your eyes real tight. And maybe, just maybe youâll wake up to see her again, to be in her arms and hear her voice. Feel her touch that you oh so fucking craved. You cried, cried and cried and begged when you first heard that news. Begging god that this isnât real, that he hasnât taken your girl, oh your sweet girl, how could she? Leave you on this earth? Alone and miserable. Of course it wasnât her fault, how could she predict a drunk driver ramming into the side her car and taking her away from you, taking the only reason you were walking on this earth away from you. Your family and friends have reached out to you, sending âprayersâ and âcondolencesâ as if that could bring back ellie. Youâre ellie. You were so numb and empty you couldnât even go to her funeral, when her father Joel reached out to you, even when the blade that cut across your arm, you couldnât feel it. Because your heart was so empty that you had nothing else to say if it wasnât to Ellie.
âbaby..mm baby wake upâ a soft voice reaches your ears, large hands gently shaking you awake. âw-what?â You asked, frantically, you were drenched in a cold sweat, forehead sticky and clothes damp. âwoah, woah. Itâs okay, itâs okay Iâm hereâ Ellie cooed, cupping your cheeks and wiping your tears away with her thumbs. â itâs okay. Youâre okay, baby..â Ellie whispered, bringing your head to rest against her chest, gently rocking you. âoh my god..â you sighed in relief, hand clutching her shirt as tears burned in your eyes..âEllie, I had such a bad dream. You..you left me, broke our promise and let your heart stop beatingâ you cried against her chest, Ellie shushed you, cupping the back of your head with her hand. âthat wasnât a dream, sweetheart..â She cooed, looking down at your oh so cherubic face. âwhat?â you breathed in confusion, not understanding. âBut you were supposed to carry on, princess. You shouldnât have done that..â she whispered, grabbing your arm that was gushing out blood from your veins, âwhyâd you do that, sweetheart? Why did you take your precious life away?â She asked, looking at you with such hurt, but before you could respond everything faded away, she faded away again. You shot awake, looking down to see pools of your own blood where you cut too deep..âIâm gonna see you again. I promiseâ you whispered as the world around you started to fade away, and you could finally rest in peace, with your sweet Ellie by your side once again.
A/N- oh my god first fic WHAAAAT. If you guys think this is garbage Iâm gonna cry (it probably is)đ ok byebye see you next time!
#tlou2#ellie williams#the last of us#angst#fluff#sadgirl#lesbian#wlw post#tlou fanfiction#ellie williams fan art
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Dirty Work 18
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary:Â You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.
Characters: Loki
Note: happy weekend.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. Iâm trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I havenât forgotten those!)
I love you all immensely. Take care. đ
âHow do you like it?â Luciana asks as she spins you to face the mirror.
Your eyes round at your own reflection. You canât help but lean forward to get a better look at yourself. You never had a haircut like this. Nothing more than the discount trims that were often worse than not just growing it out or your at-home hack job.
âWow,â is all you can utter.
âI hope thatâs a good wow,â she chimes.
âUh, yes, yes,â you sit back and tear your eyes from the mirror. âThank you, itâsââ
âOh, arenât you so lovely!â Frigga interrupts as her heels click across the salon, âoh, itâs so wonderful. Look at you!â
Before you can react, the chairâs turning again. Frigga sweeps your hands away from under the cape and pulls you to your feet. Luciana moves to undo the long black shroud and swipes it away from your body, littering more hair onto the floor.
âJust a moment,â Luciana girds and brushes the stray bits from the back of your shirt, âthere we are.â
âI must say, darling, you are even more stunning than I thought,â she keeps a hold of your right hand, âoh, Eliana, El!â She tweets across the salon, âwhat about makeup? Hm? Nothing too heavy, maybe a lip and some mascaraââ
The platinum blond chuckles, endeared by her demanding client. You see where Laufeyson inherited that; the way the command rather than ask. You could never.
âIâll take the little fawn,â Eliana agrees, âI have just the thing in mind.â She approaches on her long slender legs, âshe has perfect colouring.â
You canât help but preen at the compliments. Youâre not used to them yet, you doubt them. These women are all so put together and gorgeous, surely theyâre just being nice. Youâre so much the opposite, your like a novelty; a doll for them to dress up.
âSit,â Eliana points to another chair, âjust relax, honey, Iâll take care of you.â
Frigga lets you go and you obey. You climb up into the chair and gasp as the back reclines. Eliana starts by swabbing your face with a cool liquid then pats it dry. Next, she applies a fragrant moisturizer. Her touch is relaxing but strange. Youâre not used to anyone touching you.
You close your eyes as she sets to her work. She explains that sheâs applying some liner and how to get a little wing at the end. She says you should keep it thin and subtly, then has you check your first eye in the mirror.
âYou see, a nice brown, or grey is all you need, black is so harsh,â she shows you the pencil she used.
âOh, thanks,â you murmur.
âLetâs even that out,â she nudges you back again and you appease her.
As she draws on your other eyelid, you hear a subtle buzz, followed by Friggaâs shrill greeting. She apologises to someone unseen before she carries on her call, heels tapping further and further away. You can hardly focus between her, Elianaâs directions, and the chatter all around you.
âMmhmm, yes we were thinking of the GardenâŠâ Frigga trails off as the door rings then swiftly blocks out her conversation.
âMascara, look up,â Eliana directs, again, you obey. Thereâs nothing else you can do.
As nice as it all is, the hair, the makeup, and all her lovely plans, you canât help but be embarrassed. Frigga, and Mr. Laufeyson, know you canât afford all this. It doesnât feel as much like kindness as it does condescension. As if they are the blessed elite giving you, a noone, with all their privileges.Â
Itâs not a kind gesture, but a statement. Youâre so far below them, you donât even know what you donât have. If you are to be anywhere near them, you have to fit their mold.
đ§č
After the salon, Frigga drags you down the shopping strip. You shy away from the gleaming windows and the faceless mannequins in their luxurious outfits. You couldnât wear any of it. It wouldnât look right. Anyone would know in an instant that you donât belong.
Inside the first shop, you make yourself as small as you can, crossing one arm to cling to the other, folding your shoulders in. Youâre frightened of brushing against anything or knocking over that hand display with all the jewelry on it. As you pass a mirror, you nearly trip. You forget for a moment that itâs you staring back.
You shake your head and back away. You donât like that feeling. You donât recognize yourself. Even if you never really loved the girl looking back, she was familiar.
âDarling,â Frigga gives you a start as she nears, âhow about this? Hm? Itâs absolutely adorable.â
She holds up a purple dress; almost like an overall but more refined with three buttons along the right side. She has a plain white blouse behind it. Itâs lovely but you donât know if you like the length. You donât think youâve worn a skirt since grade school.
âOh, itâs⊠nice.â
âCome on, try it on,â she pleads, âit would look so good on you, darling. With your figure.â
You gulp and blink, looking down at yourself. What figure? The boxy button-up and straight-legged tweed donât betray much of that. Your body is your body; itâs just there.
âIâll try,â you relent. It wouldnât be polite to say no.
âAlright, you take this to a dressing room and Iâll find some shoes,â she shoves the hangers at you, âexcuse me,â she turns and waves to the associate who greeted you on entry, âyes, please, she needs a room.â
The woman with ginger curls approaches and you hand over your, or rather, Friggaâs picks. Her name tag reminds you of her introduction; Celia. She guides you into the back to a large room lined with curtained stalls. She takes you to one and hangs the clothing within. You thank her quietly and turn to stare at the lilac fabric.
You sigh and pull the curtain shut. You strip away reluctantly. Itâs all so surreal, you donât want to believe it. Youâre wary of the unusual good luck, the unearned generosity. Why would Mr. Laufeyson agree to this? And why would Frigga want to spend time with you, a maid wearing a title beyond her means?
âDarling, are you ready?â Frigga calls through as her heels tap out her arrival.
âAlmost,â you call back, shimmying into the purple overall as you try not to rumble the sleeves of the blouse.Â
You refuse to look at yourself before you face the curtain and brace yourself. You step out as Frigga waits patiently, sitting on one of the leather poufs with a pair of white loafer flats in her lap, little silver bows clasped by the toe.
âOh my,â she gasps as she rises, âoh darling, thatâs⊠that becomes you. Oh,â she nears and hands you the shoes, âput these on then. Letâs see the whole look.â
Like most things in life, you let her bowl you over. You just go along with what youâre told. You go through the motions numbly, waiting for it to be over.
You bend to slip into the shoes one at a time. Once you stand, she ushers you around to face the mirror. She squeezes your shoulders before playing with your hair, setting you straights as she stands behind you.
âLook at you, darling,â she purrs.Â
You falter as you see the woman staring back at you. Thatâs you! You can hardly see yourself under it all. You press your hands to the skirt, wishing for a few more inches, and squeak the soles on the floor as you shift awkwardly in the stiff leather.
âThis is it. It suits you so well. Sharp collars, cinched here,â she touches your waist, âI think we have a good start.â
âUm, thanks, but erâŠâ
âYou can wear that out. Itâs a lovely outfit for lunch,â she insists, âbut Iâm thinking a few boucle jackets, some matching skirts, a splash of pastel,â she rambles on dreamily, âpearls, of course, maybe some rose goldâŠâ
Your brow pinches over your nose. You donât know what to do. You canât say no and even if you were brave enough to, you donât think sheâd hear you. Sheâs like her son, that way. She only sees what she wants and thereâs no denying her.
âOh, thank you so much for humouring me,â she drawls, âyou know, ever since the divorce, Iâve been terribly lonely.â Youâre startled by her sudden shift. You blink at her, âmy own daughter was never one for the shops, at least, not with me but Sif⊠she⊠well, câest la vie.â
âI⊠Iâm sorry.â
âWhy? Oh, donât apologise, it is me who should,â she laughs at herself as she leads you back into the shop room, âto you and your own mother. I have accosted her daughter!â
You nod and seal your lips. You feel the pluck in your chest. You distract yourself with a nearby dress; itâs beige and boring.
âI hate to overstep but Loki did mention your father is sick. Iâm certain it canât be easy,â she hums, âit never is. You and your motherââ
âMy motherâŠâ you pipe up, voice cracking. You shake off the wave of dizziness and sigh, âmy mother is dead.â
âOh dear, Iâm so sorry,â she touches her chest, âdear me, I didnât know. I shouldnât haveââ
âIâm not upset. I never knew her,â you shrug and move on to a more colourful dress. âJust me and dad.â
âWell, itâs nice you have each other,â she says.
âYeah,â you agree dully.
Sheâs quiet as she browses beside you, sifting through hangers. Tension ripples between you. Neither of you know what to say.
âHow about this?â She holds up a satin blouse in a dainty shade of rose, âit would compliment your complexion.â
âUm, sure,â you let the thickness in the air slake away, âI⊠Iâm not picky.â
âOh, darling, you are too agreeable,â she teases, âyou best not let my son play on that. He could always hear a no or two, yes?â
You nod, uncertain what she means. Heâs your boss, you donât tell him no. He doesnât ask for your input. He just says and you do. Thatâs why youâre here. He needed a toy to give his mother, and youâre playing along.
đ§č
The restaurant is just as resplendent and upscale as the shops. You try to keep stride with Frigga as she struts up to the open doors, a hostess standing behind a podium just outside as the sunlight beams down in a mid-afternoon haze. She smiles at the elder blonde as she greets her with enthusiasm.
âGood afternoon, we were hoping for a table outside,â Frigga declares.
âFor two?â The hostess asks as she looks down at the tablet in front of her.
âA bigger table, please, we have someone joining us,â she answers.
âGreat, we can fit you in,â the woman assures and waves you through the small gate of the patio.Â
She takes you to a table near the colourful flower beds and offers the drink menu. Frigga thanks her and sits as you mimic her. You do your best not to fidget despite the persistent displacement zinging through your nerves. She browses the menu and taps her groomed fingernail on the table.
âIs it too early for Zinfandel?â She wonders.
âOh, I donât⊠know,â you put your own menu down, content with a glass of cranberry juice.
âOr perhaps a white?âÂ
You shrug. You donât drink. You never have and never really thought of trying it. You rub your cheek and look around, squirming at the other diners in their carefree conversations. What are you doing here?
A new server approaches and takes your orders. Frigga gets her wine and you murmur your request for a glass of juice. You hand over the menus and she checks her slender golden watch.
âMm, I did say two,â she tuts and takes out her phone.
Itâs almost amusing to see someone disappointed in Mr. Laufeyson. To be on the other side of the table. Youâre not the one rushing to meet a deadline for once. You twiddle your hands in your lap and peer around at the din.
A table of women sit with cocktails and green salads, gabbing loudly. They are probably your age. Friends. Something you never had. Probably never will.
âMother,â a voice proclaims across the patio and you wince. Itâs familiar but not the timbre you expected. Maybe itâs a coincidence.
âThere you are,â Frigga stands and you turn to look over your shoulder at the burly blond. Oh.
You rise too, not wanting to seem rude. Thor hugs his mother and kisses the top of her head, âI was caught behind an accident,â he explains, âoh,â he faces you, âand who⊠it is the little maid!â He takes you by the shoulders and you flinch as he bends to kiss your cheek, âyou remember me, yes?â
You can only nod as you wriggle out of his grip. You resist the urge to wipe your cheek.
âMaid! Do not call her that,â Frigga chides as she sits.
You lower yourself back to your seat. Thor drags out the chair next to you and you try not to show your discomfort. He is almost too wide for the seat as his thigh presses to yours.
âI never got a name, you know? Brother hides everything away,â he sniffs, âso forgive me,â he leans as he tries to look you in the face, âa proper introduction is in order; I am Thor, you recall, hm?â
You nod again and eke out your name. He offers his large hand and you hesitate to take it. You wonât be rude though. His grip swallows your hand up, tight and unyielding. When he finally releases you, you let out a slow breath and stare at the table.
âSpeaking of,â Frigga remarks, âhe is late.â
âNot surprising, he can hardly be bothered to leave his cave,â Thor scoffs, âwhat a nice colour.â
He touches the button on your dress and you squeeze your legs together, trying to sidle away without being obvious.
âThanks,â you murmur.
âOh, we had a wonderful day shopping,â Frigga supplies, âsheâs so sweet.â
âAh, yes, Iâm certain father will be happy to hear you had a spree,â Thor chortles.
âWhat he doesnât knowâŠâ Frigga giggles.
The server returns and sets down the stemmed glass of dark wine and your juice. Thor orders rye as you lean forward to sip, the tangy flavour tautens your cheeks. You feel your chair shift and sit back, only to meet the curl of his fingers on the back rest. He doesnât draw away, his leg splaying wider to touch yours again.
âSo we are waiting on him?â Thor challenges and slaps his stomach with his other hand, âIâm starving.â
âWeâll give him another ten,â Frigga girds, âperhaps he is also stuck in traffic.â
âNot to worry,â Thor booms, âwe can have fun without him, eh. Probably more.â
âOh, donât,â Frigga reproaches, âthis is supposed to be a nice family meal, you will not start with him again.â
âIt wasnât me. Heâs the one who stormed outââ
âEnough,â she interjects, âwe are moving past it.â
âIâve moved on,â Thor insists, âmother, really, I am not the one who keeps picking fights.â
âMmm,â Frigga purses her lips, ânor do you discourage them.â
âMe?â Thor feigns innocence, his fingertips brushing the back of your collar, âI only said hello and he went out of his mind.â
âUm,â you sit forward, knocking the table slightly, âer, I⊠is there a bathroom?â
âOh, yes, darling,â Frigga turns to you as if only then recalling your presence, âjust through the front door to the right.â
âThank you,â you stand, âsorry, uh, excuse me.â
You turn and scurry off, clutching the sides of the dress to keep it from riding up. Once you get inside, you roll your shoulders, trying to shake off the sensation of his touch. You reach back to tug at your collar.
Itâs peculiar to think, but you hope Mr. Laufeyson gets there soon.
#loki#dark loki#dark!loki#loki x reader#fic#dark fic#dark!fic#dirty work#series#avengers#mcu#marvel#thor#au#maid au
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Wicked Felina (The Girl That I Love)
Part 2 - âPeterâ
Azriel x Reader/Rhysandâs Sister - Angst
Visions of a past life plague Felina as she recovers from burnout. Rhys seeks answers. Azriel comforts his mate as past-trauma comes crashing down on her. A former lover tracks her down.
Part 1 - El Paso Series Masterlist Part 3 - Vampire
warnings: past trauma, panic attack, references to sex, elements involving death, blood drinking, violence
Forgive me, Peter. My lost fearless leader.
âQuit fidgeting, Y/N.â Mother whispers as she runs a brush through my tangled hair.
Father is in Windhaven this week and Iâve been free to roam the skies as I please, whenever mother turns a blind eye. The arts district is vibrant with life and so often my family carries me out kicking and screaming. Well, aside from my brother who hides his amusement behind a mask of irreverence. He knows I love the rainbow.
Of course, Rhys has been gone on courtly business for weeks and I am dying to see him. My brother, the one person who truly understands me. Well, as much as oneâs older brother can understand their sister.
I miss him.
âSorry, mother.â I sigh. âIâm just excited to see my brother tomorrow on our travels.â
A pause of the brush strokes gliding through my hair shoots worry through me. I grit my teeth, bracing for her next words. âWhat is it?â I inquire, turning to see Motherâs lovely face downcast before her warm gaze meets mine. âHeâs been held up and cannot travel with us tomorrow.â
âOh.â I sigh. Hurt running through me. Itâs not his fault, heâs busy and a far more benevolent leader than our father is a ruler, though he plays the game quite well.
An hour later as I lay in bed my heart races, my thoughts spiraling into the places I do my best to forget. The males of this court always let me down. Oh the perils of being the second born heir, younger than those surrounding me, female, and never taken seriously.
The goddess of timing, once found us beguiling.
A note appears at my bedside.
âNightâs truest bloom, there is no starlight without you. Wonât you cast thy gaze upon my room? Xx, Peterâ
I smile at the flirtatious note, biting my lip. âYou know I canât but think of me as you bask in sunlight while mother and I trudge through the Illyrian forests tomorrow. Rhys bailed.â
âI donât like that youâre traveling alone. Shall I come escort you?â
I blush at the thought of walking arm-in-arm with him. Gods, Iâm so totally enamored. How did it end up like this?
âYou High Fae, so territorial.â I write back.
âYou are partly High Fae yourself, my lady. In fact, Iâm pretty sure you offered to kill the last female who got too close for your liking.â
My stomach turns. I would. The femaleâs a lech.
âSemantics. Iâll see you when I get back. Dream filthy dreams of me.â I press a kiss to the letter and send it off.
âOnly the filthiest, my sweet Felina.â
She said she was trying. Peter, was she lying? My ribs get the feeling she did.
âââââ-
Felina
âY/N?â A cautious voice stirs me from my dream. I wake to find myself in a very large bed, surrounded by luxurious blankets that likely cost twenty-fold the standard linens Iâd become accustomed to - the ornate room around me more spacious than anywhere I could recall resting my head.
My body is sore, lethargic. I stretch my arms and - ouch - stiff as well.
âTake it, easy, okay? Your body was under a lot of stress.â I blink my bleary eyes to see Azrielâs concerned gaze fixed upon me.
My body feels weighed down from exhaustion but my heart, it feels heaviest of all - a feeling Iâve continued to carry since Azriel found me at the Inn. Shouldnât I be happy to have a piece of my life in place? I have a mate - and from what I can recall, a damn good one as well.
I open my mouth to speak but his eyes go distant, a look Iâm familiar with but trying to place.
An urgent knock intrudes upon the silence, a look of irritation crossing Azrielâs features before he mutters an apology to me. âHe couldnât wait for me to speak with you apparently.â
My gut clenches, dread overtaking it as the door opens. In walks a male with a face so familiar that my heartâs pace rushes. My brother, Rhys.
âY/N.â He chokes out, love and longing written all over his beautiful face. âYouâre home.â
The name. Y/N. So familiar and so foreign. I remember it now but Felina brings me comfort. âFelina, please call me Felina.â Pain flickers across his features before giving a subtle nod. âOkay, Felina.â
His eyes sparkle as tears form in his eyes. âHow? How are you here? Where have you been?â
I reach a hand to touch his face, the scruff beneath itching my palm, his hand instantly finding it and leaning in. It feels so warm and familiar and yet, I yank my hand away like lightning. âI donât know.â My breaths quicken. Flashes of centuries of lies and manipulation rush into my head and itâs all too much. I canât process this. I canât relive it.
My hands find my torso, wrapping myself tightly, I canât catch my breath. The hot blur of tears fill my eyes as I screw them shut. âIâm sorry- I- Iâ canât finish the sentence as I heave, trying my best to even out my breathing and failing miserably. The inky feel of power seeps from my skin and I canât process the male voices speaking beside me. My name; a cold, icy voice giving a command; a broken voice of night giving in to whatever was commanded as heavy footsteps pace away, and then -
Darkness. Warmth. A heartbeat in my ear. A brush of lips against my hair. Azriel.
I stay there, sobbing as the emotions crash into me like the surf to rocky shores. The pain doesnât alleviate for what feels like an hour, the rhythm of my mateâs chest finally bringing me back to the present.
When my eyes open, Azriel is draped over me, wings cocooning protectively around my body, his heartbeat the steady constant in my ear. âIâve got you.â He whispers. I give into his warmth and drift off again.
ââââââââ
Said you were gonna grow up, then you were gonna come find me.
Lovers in a field. Brushed hands at balls. Green eyes meeting violet. Shared smiles.
Words from the mouths of babes
Tears cried into a broad shoulder. Whispers of âItâs not fairâ, drunken chants of âfuck the cauldron!â, late nights and long dances beside reflections of starlight.
Promises oceans deep
Young lovers questioning eternity, the forces of fate. Letters signed with pen names.
But never to keep
ââââââââ-
âBrother, you need to sleep.â Rhysand stressed into Azrielâs mind.
The stubborn bastard had refused to leave Y/Nâs side for the days sheâd been unconscious. A huge part of Rhys beamed at that. Who was he to question the bonds forged by fate? Was Azriel being his sisterâs mate ideal? In a sense, no. As an older brother, heâd always felt protective over her. But Y/N had always gravitated to Azriel, even as a child his shadows could calm her when she was fussy, his patient demeanor had always been a soothing balm to her inquisitive mind. Heâd listen carefully as she pondered the great mysteries of life out loud long after the rest of the family had tuned her out.
âIâm fine.â Azrielâs conscious growled in return.
He sure as hell didnât sound it.
âLet me send darkness to soothe her, just long enough for you to eat and get some sun.â
A pause and then the mirthful reply of âIs it an order?â
Maintaining composure the High Lord replied, âIs it necessary for me to do so?â
Ten minutes later, Azriel appeared at the bottom of the stairs, the light of the foyer emphasizing his hallowed eyes and drained skin. âYou look like hell.â
âThanks.â Azriel muttered.
Rhys knew he sounded like a prick but it was true. âHow about you go sun your wings in the garden?â
The energy of the room shifted as Azrielâs eyes rolled, caught between humor and bitterness as he reminded his brother for the fifth time that week of the current circumstances. âDespite your good intentions, you seem to forget that prolonged exposure to the sun is exactly what I do not need.â
âShit! I am never going to get used to this.â Rhys placed a hand on Azrielâs shoulder. âFine, sit. Amren brought a fresh blood supply this morning. She says itâs goat from Sevendaâs but she was in a mood, I wouldnât be surprised if it was the blood of whatever poor souls had the nerve to cross her path on the way here.â
Azriel wanted to grin at the attempted humor but didnât have it in him. What a strange turn of the tables, Amren no longer the bloodthirsty one.
The males sat in silence, Azriel nursing the goblet of blood Nuala had kindly brought in to him. Soft footsteps padded into the space, a familiar floral scent wafting through the room, as Elain entered.
âOh.â the middle Archeron sister gasped. âIâm sorry to interrupt.â She gave a wary smile, sad eyes falling on Azriel before flicking back to Rhys.
âNot interrupting, Elain. What do you have there?â Rhys glanced to a piece of paper in her clutched in her grasp. âOh, itâs nothing,â she spoke too quickly, her pulse fluttering. âWriting secret love letters, Elain?â
She shook her head, glancing to Azriel once again. It grated Rhys to know the recent history, or whatever it was, that transpired between Azriel and Elain. With his sister being thrown into the mix now, he was battling that instinct to protect her at all costs.
Elain blushed a soft shade of pink, nearly matching that of her pastel dress. One hand grasping the delicate wrist of the opposite. âIâve been writing to Lucien.â
âAh, and how is dear Little Lucien?â Rhys raised an eyebrow, lip quirking upward.
âHeâs fine.â Her words were clipped. âI have to go now. Cerridwen is waiting for me in the gardens. Weâre planting a new variant of night-blooming jasmine.â She gave a nod and scurried from the room.
Azrielâs lips remained in a firm line as Rhys nursed the whiskey heâd poured himself.
Months ago, her words would have hurt, sliced like a dagger at Azrielâs own lack of a bond. Now, well, he still felt jaded toward Rhys for the solstice that he essentially banned him from pursuing a relationship with Elain. But- it worked for the best. There was nothing in this world he wanted more than his own mate, his Y/N, his Felina - as she insisted she be called.
Guilt tugged at him, he should be up with her, not downstairs. What if she needed him? What if she woke with a night terror and he wasnât there?
âSheâs fine, brother.â Rhys broke him from his thoughts. âYour shadows will alert you the moment she wakes, and I have darkness soothing her.â
Shaking his head, Azriel rested his face in his own palms as if heâd rub his face hard enough and all concerns would fade away.
Finally, he looked up. âHow do you do it, Rhys? How do you stay away when there are so many questions that need answered?â
Sitting his glass down onto a coaster, Rhys leaned forward resting his elbows on his knees. âI know she is in good hands. You brought her back to me. And I know, a mate can help her right now far more than an older brother.â
The thought warmed the icy chill that had settled into Azrielâs bones, he reveled in the moment before replying. âThereâs so much we donât know- So much we need to know.â
âYouâre the spymaster, Az, and sheâs your mate. I know you need answers. And gods, donât think for a moment that I donât want answers too. It takes every ounce of will not to just dive in to see what I can find, butâŠ. Itâs her story to tell. And, when I send my darkness to soother her, her shields, thereâs something about them that my own darkness recoils from.â
Digesting the words, Azriel took another swig from his goblet. âI need to go back upstairs.â
Rhys only gave a knowing nod.
âââââââââ
Loveâs never lost when perspective is earned
Dreams shifted from young love and light to pain and darkness plague my sleep state with visions of bloodshed on pristine snow. Brutal hands of power-hungry males. Sharpened blades. A motherâs scream. Shredded wings falling to the earth.
Lost to the Lost Boys chapter of your life
And then, warm hands and a familiar face. Love and terror in emerald eyes. Strong arms carrying a broken body. Cries of âPlease just hold on for me.â
A promise of âStay right here. Iâm getting help.â The back of a lupine creature running toward the distance.
Forgive me, Peter, please know that I tried to hold on.
The effort of holding on is growing too hard. My head slumps as blood trickles from my wingless back. An unheard plea of âPeter!â falls from frozen lips.
Then there is darkness. Void. Impending death.
A cold, pale hand chills my skin. A cruel, beautiful face promises eternity. Unfamiliar arms drag me away and I do not fight.
But the woman who sits by the window has turned out the light.
âââââââââââ
Azriel
Azriel had finally settled in beside a sleeping Felina, resisting the urge to take her in his arms and never let go.
His shadows alerted him to the breach in the wards first, shock running through him at the intrusion. Apparating to the entryway, he found Rhys at the front door, baring his teeth at the intruder, waves of night rolling off of him in a way that would send most running.
Icy rage shot through Azrielâs veins at the audacity of the male to show up at their door. The urge first, ask questions later pulling him toward the intruder. His lunged was interrupted by a sharp inhale behind him behind, diverting him from his war path.
His mate had walked down the stairs, her first time out of bed since arriving to the River House. Her slim form trembled, those otherworldly eyes swirling with emotions he couldnât comprehend.
âPeter.â She whispered through rapid breaths. Azriel ran to her, bracing an arm around her back to steady her uneven footing as she climbed down the grand staircase.
The blonde male fell to his knees, his tears falling ricocheting off the marble floors.
Azriel has no time to ponder the incorrect name sheâd used, focusing on her steps, observing the sight before him. Heâd only ever seen the male solemn or filled with rage. Never this.
And Felina, there was no fear or hate in her eyes, no wariness, as she took in the male. No, the only emotion he could now read was one his heart wasnât prepared to face.
So, Azriel watched as his mateâs eyes lined with tears, her slow steps increasing and filling with purpose as she reached the entryway, stepping out of his brace and flinging herself into the arms of the High Lord of the Spring Court.
âââââââââ
Tamlin
Are you still a mind reader? A natural scene stealer?
He didnât believe it when Lucien wrote to him sending word that Elain mentioned that Y/N was in Velaris. That she was alive. There was no way and getting his hopes up would kill him.
How many nights had he spent plagued by the memories of the day it all came crashing down? The ruination of a beautiful friendship, of a love forged from two kindred souls damned by fate, and the role he played in it.
They were both so jaded at an early age, he and Y/N. And for whatever reason he couldnât fathom, the princess of night found the youngest heir of spring to be worthy of her presence. She was everything and he was just, a lost male. Everyone wanted her time but she wanted his, and so began the affair of sneaking off at parties, stolen kisses under starry nights, long rolls in soft grasses, love notes written with pen names.
He was Peter, the lost boy forced to grow up too soon - who wanted nothing more than a life of music and poetry but doomed to strengthen ties to Hybern, to be married off like seed stock to a mate that he hated, Hybernâs wicked general.
And Felina, feline, curious and sleek as a cat. Sheâd been heartbroken by a one-sided mating bond, by a mate who only saw her as the child she once was, a mate too busy pining over her cousin to notice the gem he had right in front of him.
Theyâd found comfort and peace with eachother, two young adults who could be whomever they wished in their stolen moments.
They were careful to avoid being caught. So careful, until the day he snuck off to watch as she traveled through the Illyrian forests with her mother, that instinct to protect those he cared for surfacing at such an early age. He thought heâd lost her forever. Heâd tried so desperately to save her. By the time he returned with a healer, she had disappeared. To this day, Felina had been his greatest loss.
And moments ago when her cry called into his mind, âPeter!â. There was nothing that could hold him back from her, no wards too strong, no distance too far to winnow. There was only he and his need to see her for himself.
And now, here she was in his arms. Repeating over and over how sorry she was for not holding on, for not having faith that heâd return.
All he could choke out was, âFelina.â
We both did the best we could do, underneath the same moon in different galaxies.
âââââââââââââ
Tags:
General ACOTAR: @lilah-asteria
Series tag list: @saltedcoffeescotch @julesofvolterra @glittervame @nocasdatsgay
SPOILER FOR THIS STORY (in case you need to know who is end game) : click here
#acotar#sarah j maas#a court of thorns and roses#azriel#a court of silver flames#a court of frost and starlight#a court of mist and fury#a court of wings and ruin#azriel x reader#azriel shadowsinger#vampyr#vamp!azriel#vamp!reader#Tamlin#soft Tamlin#azriel x rhysandâs sister#tamlin x rhysandâs sister#Rhysand#acotar angst#Azriel angst#peter taylor swift#ttpd#inspired by taylor swift#Spotify
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"What do we do? What do we do?!" Dustin panicked.
"Well, not panic for one thing," Max said.
"How are you remaining so calm about this?" Dustin hissed.
"Because they need us to remain calm, and it helps if you're holding one," Max said as she snuggled the bundle in her arms. "Pick him up off the floor, Dustin."
Robin's small hands wrapped themselves around Max's braid and tugged.
"Hair is wed, Maxy," Robin said.
"Yeah, my hair is red," Max said in amusement.
Dustin sighed and picked up Steve off the floor.
"It's Otay, Dusty, I wasn't going to bofer you," Steve said.
"He is pretty adorable," Dustin sighed. "How did this happen?"
"Well, you wanted to prove that the woman in the weird new occult shop wasn't a witch. You dug through her things, read a spell, and turned our favorite babysitters into kids!" Max shrieked. "The witch panicked, and now we don't know where she is or where the store is."
"Yeah, this is all my fault," Dustin sighed. "Does this make us the babysitters now?"
"Yes," Max replied. "We need to get them to Joyce and Hopper. Maybe El can find the witch."
"We can walk," Robin said as she wiggled in Max's arms.
"Alright, but we need to stick together," Max said as she set her down.
Steve wiggled out of Dustin's arms, and Robin took his hand. They started skipping ahead of them as they walked out of the building.
"Aw, even though they don't know each other, somehow they know they're best friends," Dustin said.
"They are pretty cute," Max agreed as she pushed her glasses up her nose. "Glad their clothes shrunk with them."
Steve and Robin were giggling as they skipped happily. Suddenly, Steve tripped and fell on the concrete.
"Oh, nose!" Robin yelled. "Stebe! Stebe! Don't cwy!"
Steveâs eyes welled up with tears, and his bottom lip trembled as knee started to bleed through his now holy pants. Dustin took off his pack and pulled out a first aid kid.
"Hey, buddy, don't worry, it's not that bad. Dusty's got you," Dustin said softly.
"Bone is sticking out, Stebe," Robin said and Steve wailed.
"That's not very helpful, Robin," Max scolded, and Robin giggled. "It's not sticking out, Steve."
"It's not?" Steve asked.
"No," Max said softly.
Dustin cleaned the wound and put a band-aid on it.
"See? All better," Dustin said.
"Wait!" Robin exclaimed.
She leaned down and kissed Steveâs band-aid.
"Now, all better!" Robin yelled.
"Dank Dou, Wobbie and Dusty," Steve sniffled, and Max whipped his nose with a tissue.
Steve took Max's hand while Robin took Dustin's. Steve and Robin joined hands in the middle of them.
"I'm already exhausted," Dustin said. "Even as a kid, Steve is always getting hurt."
"Well, now we know how Steve feels chasing us around. He usually gets hurt keeping us safe," Max pointed out.
"That's true," Dustin said. "Now I know why he's anxious all the time. It's stressful worrying about them."
Just as they left the parking lot of the little strip mall, Lucas and Mike finally decided to show up on their bikes.
"Well, finally escaped the house. Let's go check out the witch," Lucas said.
"You assholes are a little late," Max scowled. "The witch turned Steve and Robin into kids, then panicked before disappearing with her shop."
"So, Dustin was wrong. She is a witch!" Mike exclaimed.
"Let's focus on the fact that Steve and Robin have been turned into little kids," Dustin said, squinting his eyes at him.
"Are you a ghost?" Robin asked Mike.
"Max is nearly as pale as I am," Mike scowled at Robin.
"Cwanky ghost," Robin giggled with Steve.
"Ghost needs a nap," Steve laughed.
"Aww, man, they're cute," Lucas grinned.
"We were going to see Hop and Joyce. Maybe El could help us find the witch," Max said.
"Joyce is having a family day. That's why Will and El couldn't come with us," Mike explained.
"Okay, so, what are we supposed to do with them in the meantime?" Dustin asked.
"Take care of them like they took care of us," Lucas scoffed. "Obviously. Maybe they'll turn back by tomorrow."
"Okay, but if they don't turn back by tomorrow, then we're taking them to Hopper and Joyce," Dustin said. "I guess we should go to Steveâs house since no one is there and I have a key."
"They need clothes and food," Mike said. "Can they even go to the restroom by themselves?"
"I'm a big boy," Steve scowled, his little fists on his hips.
"Yes, that's right you are. Don't listen to the mean old ghostie," Max cooed at him and Steve beamed.
"Well, you know Steve always keeps the fridge and pantry stocked," Dustin said. "Let's go get them some clothes."
"Oh, yes, two menacing children in a clothing store, what could go wrong?" Mike rolled his eyes.
"You could could be a little more optimistic, Mike, jeeze," Dustin said.
Turns out Mike was being realistic. They were only in the store for five minutes before they lost both of them. Dustin, of course, panicked, as well as Mike. It was Lucas and Max who remained calm. They were the ones who found them hiding and giggling inside one of the clothing rack. It took one look from Max for them to settle down and look guilty.
"You aren't going to tell our Mama, are you?" Steve asked.
"We don't habe the same Mama, member?" Robin asked.
"Oh yeah. . .how come?" Steve asked.
"I don't know," Robin frowned.
"We should," Steve said.
"My mama can be your mama!" Robin exclaimed.
"Otay!" Steve exclaimed and then lowered his voice. "I don't like my mama. She leaves me all the time."
Max scooped him up and hugged him tightly. Robin tugged on Lucas's pants and held her arms up. Lucas smiled and placed her on his hip, laughing as Max doted on Steve.
"What kind of clothes we should get?" Lucas asked.
"No girly clothes for Robin, though," Max said. "She doesn't like pink."
"Can I has girl clothes?" Steve asked. "I like pink and blellow."
"Ooh, that yellow shirt with pink flowers would look good on you," Max said. "Let's do this."
They bought a couple of outfits, some pajamas, and underwear, as well as socks. They had to pool their allowances together, but they managed. If they needed them for any longer, Steve had a washing machine and dryer. They walked to Steveâs. Robin and Steve having nodded off on Max and Lucas, but they woke up the moment they walked through the door.
"Okay, I think you guys have this," Mike said. "I'm going to go. If I wanted to babysit, I would have stayed at home."
"Nooo! Ghost don't go!" Robin whined.
She wiggled out of Lucas's arms and held her arms up for Mike. He sighed and scooped her up, rolling his eyes.
"Fine, I'll stay," Mike said.
"Yay!" Robin exclaimed.
"They took care of us, we take care of them now," Dustin said pointedly to Mike. "Like Lucas said."
"Yeah, yeah."
"Hungy," Robin said and pointed to her mouth. "Ahhh."
"Mac and Cheese!" Steve exclaimed. "It's Blellow! I can make it. Mama says I don't need her, I'm a big boy."
"Yeah, you're a big boy but not big enough to make the food. You need us, okay?" Max said.
"Mama wrong?" Steve asked.
"So wrong," Max said.
"Can we watch toons?" Steve whispered.
"You deserve it," Max said and placed him on the ground.
Robin wiggled out of Mike's arms and took Steveâs hand before running into the living room.
"GHOST!" Robin yelled.
"TOONS!" Steve screamed. "PWEAASE?!"
"Ghost, you're being summoned to watch toons," Dustin said in amusement.
Mike flipped him off before walking into the living room.
"You guys can make the Mac and Cheese. I'm going to watch some toons," Max said and disappeared into the living room.
"MAX!" Robin and Steve screamed. "IT'S SCOOBY!"
It was left up to Dustin and Lucas to make the food, which wasn't that hard. Since they were so pleasant about it, they allowed Robin and Steve to eat in the living room. They sat on the couch with bed trays on their laps as they ate their food. Robin and Steve sat on the couch, bobbing their head to the music as they sang along to the Scooby-Doo theme song. Lucas couldn't help it when he found the Polaroid and took a picture of Robin clutching a lock of Steveâs hair gently in her hand while Steve did the same with her as they ate with their free hand.
"They're so cute," Lucas said.
"You so want a kid of your own," Max scoffed.
"I mean, not now. I'm 14, but maybe when I'm older and I get the chance to adopt a kid who doesn't have people to love or care for them," Lucas shrugged.
Max smiled and pulled him in for a kiss.
"Sweet," she blushed.
"Ewww!" Steve and Robin exclaimed.
"Barf," Robin said.
"You still want them, broody?" Max asked.
"They're not so bad," Lucas laughed.
TWO HOURS LATER. . .
"I LOOKED AWAY FOR ONE GODDAMN SECOND!" Dustin shrieked.
"Where's Steve?!" Mike asked.
"In the kitchen trying to make a cake for Dusty!" Max yelled. "Yeah, there is flower everywhere!"
"Where the fuck is Robin?!" Lucas asked.
"Oh, she's hanging around," Dustin said casually.
"SHE'S HANGING FROM THE DRAPES!" Mike screamed.
"Ghost! Watch!" Robin screamed. "I'm a bird!"
"NO THE FUCK YOU'RE NOT!" Mike screamed.
He managed to dive over the couch and catch her before she hit the floor.
"Good catch, Mike," Dustin said.
"I am never having kids," he said.
"Cwanky ghost," Robin said.
"Ghost needs a nap," Mike said.
She wiggled out of Mike's arms and ran into the kitchen. Max was lifting Steve out of the flour when Robin decided to dive in.
"SNOW!" Robin exclaimed. "Loook! Snow angle!"
"More like snow devil," Mike said, breathing heavily as he hurried into the room.
"Alright, guys, bath time!" Lucas exclaimed, clapping his hands.
"No baff!" Robin and Steve exclaimed.
"Yes, bath," Lucas said.
"The bath isn't a punishment. You have to get clean," Max said. "Or otherwise you're going to grow icky stuff on your bodies like spider eggs that will hatch and crawl all over you!"
"Max!" Dustin exclaimed.
"Baff! Baff!" Robin and Steve yelled as they ran to Max.
Max smirked as she led them to the bathroom. Lucas quickly followed.
"Mike, Dustin, clean up the kitchen while we clean up Double Trouble over here," Max said.
Steve and Robin babbled to each other as they splashed around in the bath, soaking the both of them.
"What language are they speaking?" Lucas asked.
"I think they're creating their own language," Max said.
"Don't twins do that?" Lucas asked.
"Yeah, they're soul twins," Max said and shared a grin with Lucas.
They managed to get through the bath without any accidents and kept most of the water in the bathtub.
"Alright, if you guys can get dressed for bed without any problems, I'll read you a bedtime story!" Lucas said happily.
Robin and Steve hollered before running upstairs to Steveâs room. When they came back down, they were wearing their new matching blue pajamas they were lined with red stripes. Mike and Dustin were sprawled out one couch looking exhausted. Max hugged the both of them as Lucas snapped yet another photo. He sat on the couch, pulling out a copy of the Hobbit. Robin and Steve sat next to Lucas, looking at the book as he started to read. Once again, they had a grasp of each other's hair, twirling it around their tiny fingers. This time, it was Max taking the picture. Pretty soon, Robin and Steve were fast asleep. Dustin grinned and picked up Steve, turning around to tell Mike to pick up Robin, but Mike had fallen asleep. Max rolled her eyes before picking up Robin. They walked up the stairs and tucked them into Steveâs bed. Steve stirred as did Robin.
"Wobbie?"
"Yeah?"
"Are we best fwiends?" Steve asked.
"Yeah."
"How long?"
"Forever, Stebe."
"Otay."
Their eyes fluttered close, and they were soon fast asleep.
"Oh, man," Dustin said tearfully. "I almost don't want them to grow up."
"Yeah," Max said softly.
They moved downstairs to find that Lucas had fallen asleep as well. Max grinned before snuggling into her boyfriend's side and closing her eyes. Dustin sprawled out in the recliner, putting his hat over his face. It wasn't long before they were all fast sleep. The next morning, Steve and Robin woke up to complete confusion. They were now back to their normal selves.
"What the hell?" Steve asked.
"Don't be so surprised. This isn't the first time we slept in the same bed," Robin yawned.
"Yeah, but I don't remember these pajamas," Steve said. "I feel like we're missing something. What's the last thing you remember?"
"Well, we were going to check out that witch's store with Max and Dustin," Robin said and they shot up.
"Max and Dustin!" Robin and Steve exclaimed.
They stumbled downstairs to find Max, Lucas, Dustin, and Mike fast asleep. Steve picked up the Polaroids that were on the table and showed them to Robin.
"The witch turned us into kids," Steve said.
"And they took care of us," Robin said softly.
"You take care of us. We take care of you," Dustin mumbled. "Lucas said."
"We got good kids," Steve said.
"They'll do," Robin shrugged with a grin.
They walked into the kitchen to make them breakfast, holding hands as they did so.
"Why are we holding hands?" Steve asked.
"No fucking clue!"
"Also, why do I have the sudden urge to call Mike a ghost?"
#stranger things#robin buckley#lesbian robin buckley#steve harrington#bisexual steve harrington#robin & steve#platonic soulmates#platonic with a capital p#platonic stobin#max mayfield#dustin henderson#mike wheeler#lucas sinclair#henderfam#with a side of#lumax#lucas sinclair x max mayfield#max x lucas#the party#stranger things fanfiction#rueleigh writes
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I Do Bad Things with You - Part 49
It's here!!! The final part of this massive fic. đ I can't believe we're finally at the end. I'm still in shock that I get to close the door on this fic that has taken up the last three years of my life. I have so many emotions running through me right now. đ„ș
The epilogue will be posted during @elriel-month in addition to a little surprise I'm so excited to share with you. Stay tuned!! đđđ
My fanfic account:Â @tswaney17ficsâââ
My ao3 account:Â tswaney17
Please let me know what you think about this update. I love getting your feedback. Constructive criticism is always welcome. đ
Catch up here.
Credit to @featherymalignancy for Cassianâs nickname, Cash. đ
Trigger warnings: violence, sexual assault , language, NSFW
This part also features descriptions of birth and complications from it.
Word Count: 7,225
Elain had spent a good portion of the late morning getting ready for the baby shower scheduled for noon. At just over eight months pregnant, they were cutting close to the wire of the twinsâ arrival.
She was beyond exhausted. Growing the babies was work enough, but she ached everywhere at this point. Her boobs, her hips, her ankles. Her backâŠthat hurt the worst. She looked like she swallowed two extra large watermelons. Elain hadnât seen her feet in two and half months and she was praying that her toenails looked well enough for sandals today.
On top of her aching body, she also slept like shit the night before, having woken up in the wee hours with Braxton Hicks contractions that seemed to never want to go away. They were getting obnoxious at this point.
Oh! And her boobs had already started leaking. Aside from the contractions, Elain also woke up to a soaked sleep shirt and an attitude that poor Azriel was desperately trying to keep calm. She felt bad that her irritation got directed at him, but he took her mood swings in stride, giving her the space when she needed it, and focusing on taking care of Kaden and getting him ready for the party.
Her husband knocked lightly before entering their bedroom, shutting the door behind him and locking it when he saw her standing there in an ugly pair of panties and a strapless braâwhich she had no idea how it was going to hold up her tits, but here they were. âHello, my love. How are you doing?â he asked, striding further into their room. He was already dressed in black slacks and a white button-down rolled up to his elbows. It was one of her favorite looks on him. Casual but classy and sexy as hell.
âIâm all right. Better than this morning,â which was true. In the time she took to get ready, she felt her irritation slowly dissipate. âIâm sorry for snapping at you.â
He gifted her a soft smile he reserved only for her and their children. âEl, youâre carrying two babies. Youâre allowed to let out your frustrations. Iâm here to spar if you need it, you know that.â
She knew he meant spar as in letting her yell and shout and hiss words until she felt better while he just took it. Gods, he really was the perfect husband. Elain held out her coco butter lotion towards him. âDo you mind rubbing this on me and helping me dress?â
Azriel took the bottle from her outstretched hands, dropping a sweet kiss on her plump lips before squirting some into his scarred palms and gently rubbing it all over her swollen stomach. He knelt before her, dutifully getting every inch of her covered. âYou are so beautiful, Elain,â he murmured, kissing her at the fullest part of her belly.
She snorted. âI am a beached whale who ate too much.â
âYou are a gorgeous woman carrying life inside of her womb. That will always be beautiful, sweetheart.â
How he always knew what to say was beyond her, but she tugged him up off the ground to kiss him thoroughly. It shouldâve annoyed her with how just a few sweeps of Azrielâs tongue had every concern and irritation simply melt away. He knew when to play that card and fuck did he play it well.
But even his tongue couldnât stop the hiss of pain as another contraction wracked her body.
He immediately pulled back at the sound, eyes scanning her face. âAre you all right?â he asked, concern etched into the tone.
She breathed through the wave that tightened in her abdomen. âBraxton Hicks contractions,â she said as an explanation.
 His brows shot into his hairline. âDo we need to go to the hospital?â
Elain reached up to cup his cheek in her palm, her thumb swiping over the stubble there. âNo, itâs a normal thing this late in the pregnancy. Iâve had a few this morning starting before dawn. Itâs why I was grouchy.â
Understanding lit his face and he carefully ran his hand down her stomach again. âWhy didnât you wake me this morning?â
She huffed a laugh. âBecause I knew youâd go into full-birthing-dad-mode and neither one of us wouldâve slept any longer.â
Azriel shot her an unamused glare. âYou will be thanking me for that birthing-dad mode when youâre in labor and I have everything packed up within minutes.â
This time Elain laughed loud and joyfully. âYes, youâre probably right.â She nodded to the dress on the bed. âHelp me slip that on?â
He grabbed the fabric, bunching it in his large fists, and pulled it over her head. It was an off-the-shoulder, loose, pale pink cotton dress, decorated with roses. It looked vintage, gathering just under her bust, with oversized puffy sleeves that sat off her shoulders, over her biceps. Ruffles accentuated the bottom hem, emphasizing the vintage style. It was the perfect spring dress. When Elain first saw it at the store, she knew she had to buy it for the shower.
Azriel tugged her loose curls from the back of the dress, letting them brush against her spine. He placed a kiss on her bare shoulder before grabbing the rose-pendant necklace he bought to go with the dress and draping it around her delicate neck. âPerfect,â he murmured onto her skin, his smile pressing against her neck.
Elain sighed softly, reaching up to thread her fingers through his dark hair. âHow am I still horny for you?â
He nipped at her throat, a rumble shaking his chest. âBecause you know I can deliver what you need without even blinking.â
This time she laughed, letting his hands run across her body in possessive little touches.
Azriel brazenly cupped her sex through the dress, growling as she let out a mewling sound and began to writhe against those skilled fingers, searching for the friction she desperately craved. âWould you like to fuck my hand, love?â he murmured, mouth grazing her jaw.
Elain fell slack against him, letting his strength hold her up. âAz,â she breathed, eyes fluttering shut as he began to rub her in earnest. âPlease.â
He nipped the curve of her ear, tugging the lobe between his teeth. âYou beg so prettily, El.â Bunching up the dress in a fist, Azriel slid her panties aside, swiping his fingers over her soaked pussy. âFuck, baby. Youâre so wet for me. Always desperate for my touch.â
She gripped him, nails digging into his exposed forearms. âI needâI need,â she panted out, wiggling in his hold. âPlease, Az.â
Giving her exactly what she wantedâneededâAzriel sunk his middle finger into her aching cunt, pumping once before adding a second digit. âSuch a good girl,â he whispered, thrusting in and out of her. The heel of his palm grazed her clit sending bolts of pleasure up her spine.
Elain bit her lip, stifling the moan that threatened to burst from her. His fingers scraped along that special spot inside of her, building her up and up and up until she teetered on the edge of bliss.
Barely conscious of her surroundings, Elain caught the sound of the door handle jiggling, followed by a âMomma!â
Azriel clapped a hand over her mouth as he continued his machinations. âMommaâs getting dressed, Kaden. Weâll be out in a minute,â he called out, pressing his palm firmly on her clit and sending her spiraling into her orgasm.
Too far gone to care, she tumbled into sweet oblivion, coming hard on his fingers. Elain moaned, only quieted by the muffling against her husbandâs scarred hand.
He worked her through her release, slowing his movements when she started to come down from her high. Az peppered her skin with sweet kisses, removing his fingers from her pussy and readjusting her panties back into place before letting the dress fall back down. âBetter, my love?â
âIâm gonna have to change my underwear, but yes.â She twisted in his arms, catching him sucking his fingers clean. Elain brought his mouth down to hers, tongue licking the drop of her release dotting his bottom lip. âThank you, husband.â
He smiled into their kiss, deepening it once more. âIâll go check on Kaden while you finish up. Weâll head out when youâre done.â
Twenty minutes later, they were in the car on their way to Rhys and Feyreâs place. It was a gorgeous day full of sunshine, the air warm with the oncoming of summer. It was as if even the Mother wanted to grace her presence on that day with her radiance. They really couldnât have asked for a more beautiful day for a baby shower.
âMomma?â Kaden called from the back seat. âWhere are we going?â
His speech had improved so much since they first brought him home that the therapist they hired had told them after the end of the school year, that he likely wouldnât need to continue seeing a specialist to catch him up. He was reading and writing the way a five-year-old should be and was on track to pass kindergarten with flying colors.
She glanced over her shoulder at him. âRemember how we talked about going to Aunt Feyre and Uncle Rhysâs for the baby shower today.â
He seemed to think about that. âWhatâs a baby shower?â
Her lips quirked up at his curious mind. Thankfully, he hadnât asked about where babies came from again. âItâs a party to celebrate the upcoming arrival of your brother and sister.â Her hand came to rest on her belly instinctively.
His face scrunched up. âWill I have to take a bath again?â
Azriel let out a snort, glancing at her. âItâs a fair question.â
She laughed. âNo, sweetheart. Not that kind of shower. To shower with love. The party is just to celebrate the babies before they arrive.â
âWill there be cake?â he asked, excitement lighting up his face at the prospect of sweets.
âFor my sisterâs sake, there better be.â Elainâs late-stage pregnancy craving was anything sweet. Cookies, cakes, pastries, whatever she could get her hands on, she was eating it. Azriel was barely able to keep the pantry stocked with desserts for her to snack on.
Her husband chuckled. âIf she doesnât, weâll stop by a bakery on our way home and get each of you a cake. Howâs that sound?â he asked, grasping her hand and bringing it to his mouth to kiss her knuckles.
She grinned. âYou spoil me.â
He looked at her then. âYou deserve to be spoiled.â
They were fashionably late to their baby shower, and Elain completely blamed her husbandâs morning sexual charade for the delay in their arrival. Not that she minded at all. She had another Braxton Hick contraction in the car, Azriel eying her with worry and once again asking if they should make a pitstop at the hospital just in case.
But that wouldâve made them even more late and Elain knew it was unnecessary.
All of their friends and family were waiting for their arrival. And she hated being late.
âWhat am I going to do with you gone for six months, Elain?â Thesan teased, taking a sip of his beer.
She shot a devilish grin at the head nurse sitting on the couch across from her. âIâm sure Viv would love to pick up all the slack.â
Viviane squawked in outrage and pointed a menacing finger in her direction. âDonât put your work on me while youâre enjoying your babymoon, Elain Archeron-Knight.â
The group laughed as she pushed herself up off the couch. Another contraction hit her and she winced, catching the attention of the sharp-eyed nurse. But before she could ask, Kaden came bounding up to her, tugging on the skirt of her dress.
âMomma, can I have a cake pop?â He looked up at her with those damn puppy eyes he knew she couldnât resist.
Elain ran a hand through his hair. âSure, sweetie. Only one. You donât want to spoil your appetite for Uncle Cassianâs good barbeque.â
Said uncle was out in the backyard tending to the grill with her husband, Rhys, and the Moonbeam brothers because, apparently, thatâs where men gathered. Aelin and Rowan had joined them, the former getting an eyebrow raise from Azriel at her companyâs appearance.
She made her way to the kitchen, hoping to perhaps score one of those cake pops herselfâshe was the guest of honor, surely she could snag one too. Feyre, Nuala, and Cerridwen had been busy putting together the final touches for lunch and were just waiting for Cassianâs proteins to serve food.
But just as she reached the breakfast bar, a wave of excruciating pain washed over her. Catching herself on the counter, Elain gripped the side of her stomach, groaning loud enough that the other room went silent. And then she felt it. Liquid surged between her legs, puddling the floor beneath her.
No. No, it was too soon. They couldnât be coming already.
Viviane rounded the corner from the living room as Feyre and the twins approached her.
Somebody breathed her name, but she couldnât decipher who it was over the blood rushing in her ears.
More footsteps sounded as her friends and family came from the living room to see what was going on.
âElain.â It was Feyreâs voice that broke through the fog of fear that had clouded her, but she was too numb to respond. Too nervous. âSomebody get Azriel!â
Her panic grew and her breathing turned shallow. It was too soon. She wasnât ready, wasnât prepared enough. The anxiety of giving birth hit her like a freight train.
She couldnât do this.
She couldnât.
~~~~~
Azriel took a swig of his beer, rolling his eyes at the cad comment Rhys made. His tanned skin warmed in the sunlight even with the sleeves of his button-down rolled up to his elbows. With a glance at the large window, he caught Elain rising from her spot on the couch, Kaden gripping her dress to speak with her.
Gods, that fucking dress. Elain looked like a maternal goddess in it, emphasizing her swollen belly, brimming with the life of his children. Az never realized he had a breeding kink until he and Elain got back together. His desire to fill her with his seed, to watch her grow with life had him hardening in his pants.
Now at eight months, she had reached the stage where little things irked the hell out of her. Honestly, her temper was cute as hell, but he tried to be considerate of her exhaustion and short-fuse, offering himself up to take the heat of her ire. It was only fairâheâs the one that got her pregnant.
It may have made him a primitive, alpha-douchebag, but fuck did he love to see her waddling around, pregnant and barefoot in their home. She was already such a wonderful mother to their boy, Kaden. Cassian had been right. He was so incredibly grateful for Elainâs maternal instinct.
âSomething caught your eye, brother?â Cassian taunted, grinning. His brother knew exactly what he was looking at. Or whom.
He shot him a dry look that had Cash chuckling.
âIf she wasnât already pregnant, Iâd say that look alone couldâve knocked her up,â he teased. âWho knew you had such a kink, Az.â
Azriel opened his mouth to retort, but the sliding glass door opening caught his attention.
Nuala peeked her head out, a worried look on her face that had his stomach tightening in knots. âAzriel! Get in here now!â
But he was already moving, dropping his drink on the table and running after her into the house, his brothers and friends hot on his heels. He froze in the entryway of the kitchen, taking in the scene for a split second before his eyes settled on Elain bent over the counter, a puddle of clear liquid beneath her.
His feet ate up the space between them in three long strides, her name falling from his lips as he cupped her face and forced her gaze on his. Azriel prided himself in knowing exactly what Elain was feeling, what she was thinking by just the look on her face. He read her better than he did himself. So, seeing the blatant apprehension and worry written as clearly as a tattoo on her forehead had his heart racing in his chest.
Her eyes were wet with the tears he could tell she was trying to hold back.
âLove,â he said quietly, unsure how to proceed at the moment.
She blinked like hearing him cleared a bit of the fog that had washed over her. âAzriel.â Her voice cracked.
He folded her into his arms, trying to soothe whatever worries were troubling her. âYouâre okay, my love.â
Elain seemed to melt in his embrace, her tension slowly ebbing away the longer he held her. He gave her whatever time she needed, ignoring the audience they had around them, but it was long enough for another contraction to hit. She cried out, gripping his hand in hers and squeezing tight.
Viviane snapped into action at that. âAzriel, her contractions are about nine minutes apart now. Sheâs going to have at least two more by the time you reach the hospital.â
âNo hospitals,â Elain growled.
That had him pulling back to look down at her. âEl, the babies are comingââ
âNo. Hospitals.â He could see the wavering in her face. âIâ,â she paused, hesitating. âTheyâre not ready. Itâs too early. Too soon. They canât come out yetâŠâ Her head fell until she was looking at the wetness still sitting on the floor. âIâm not ready,â Elain whispered so quietly, that he almost missed it.
Azriel knew that was nerves speaking. While Kaden made them parents, the idea of giving birth to the twins was the primary source of her fear. The books he read said that many expectant mothers experienced this type of anxiety right around the time they went into labor. If they were going to have any success in her having a smooth birth, Azriel needed to get her to calm down. He glanced at Cassian. âCan you get her a chair?â
His brother grabbed one from the dining room, setting it out for Az to carefully guide Elain into. He knelt in front of her, keeping her hands clasped firmly in his. âElain, sweetheart,â her dark eyes latched onto his, needing to hear his reassurance. He kept his voice low, wishing they didnât have to have this conversation in front of their friends and family.
Rhys seemed to sense that and began ushering people out of the room. âLetâs give the couple a few minutes.â
He shot his brother a grateful look before returning his attention to Elain. âSweetheart, I know youâre scared. I know itâs earlier than we were expecting. But if there is one thing that I am certain of is that you can do this.â He squeezed her hands in comfort. âYou are the strongest person I know. Youâve been through so much that once all is said and done, youâre going to look at me and tell me that this was the easy part. I promise you that if anyone can do this, itâs you. And I will be right by your side for every step, holding your hand, giving you ice chips, and bearing whatever you need me to bear to bring our children into the world.â
She sniffed, a small smile tugging at her lips. âYouâre sure?â
âWithout a doubt, Elain. You can do this.â He brought their joined hands up to his mouth, kissing her fingers and letting her absorb whatever confidence she needed. âSo, what do you say? Are you ready to have our babies, love?â
Elain huffed a laugh, his words settling the nerves she had. âYes, letâs go have our babies,â she breathed, her grin taking over her entire face, lasting all of thirty seconds before a look of panic took root once more. âAz, the birthing bag is still at the house.â
He let out an undignified snort. âDo you think after having that contraction in front of me this morning, Iâd leave the house without having absolutely everything packed and ready to go? Come on, baby, you know me better than that. Itâs all in the back of the car.â
She blinked in surprise. âThe birthing bag and my pillow?â
âIn the car,â he confirmed.
âKadenâs overnight bag?â
âIn the car.â
âThe car seats for the twins?â
He scoffed. âYou know I installed those weeks ago, try again.â
Her lips quired up at the corner. âWhat about the slippers I was wearing this morning?â she asked, thinking she had him.
Az rolled his eyes in playful exasperation. âI grabbed them when I snagged the birthing bag.â He kissed her hands again. âIâve got you, love.â
And then she was leaning forward, kissing him with so much love and devotion, he felt it down to the soul she brought back to life. The sound of their familyâs cheers forced them apart, a pretty blush dusting the tops of Elainâs cheeks, but she didnât dare look away from him.
Without looking away from her, Azriel reached into his pocket, pulled out his keys, and tossed them to Rhys. âCan you grab Kadenâs bag from the trunk? The one with dinosaurs. And then Elainâs purple one as well.â
Elainâs brows furrowed in confusion. âWhy is he grabbing mine?â
His lips pulled up into a knowing grin, brushing the shell of her ear as he leaned forward to whisper, âI thought you might like to change your underwear and put on a maternity pad for the ride to the hospital.â
Her cheeks heated in embarrassment, but she nodded in agreement. Â
A little body shuffled closer. âMomma?â Kaden murmured, looking so very worried over the state of his mother.
She held her arms out, motioning him forward. âCâmere sweetheart.â Elain tucked him into her chest, kissing the top of his head. âYouâre going to stay here with Aunt Feyre and Uncle Rhys while Daddy and I go to the hospital to have your brother and sister.â
He looked up at her with those puppy-dog eyes and damn, the kid knew how to work them. âBut I want to go with you!â His lower lip quivered and Azriel could tell he was on the verge of tears.
But his wife took it in stride, cupping his little face in her palms and swiping her thumbs across his cheeks. âI know, sweetheart. I know you do. But youâll have a much better time here with your aunt and uncle. Mommaâs not going to be fun to be around until your siblings are here.â She kissed his plump cheek. âBut I promise that you will be the first to see us once they arrive. Okay?â
Feyre stepped forward, reaching out a hand for their son. âCome on, Kaden. Weâll have lots of fun eating all the desserts left over.â She shot them a wink when he finally relented, taking her fingers.
After cleaning her up as best as he could and getting her a maternity pad from her bag, he and Elain were in the car on the way to the hospital. As Viviane predicted, she had two more contractions on the way, grabbing his offered hand and the âoh shitâ bar as she groaned her way through it. And then promptly went into a third one right as they arrived.
Az timed them out, still sitting about nine minutes apart. âBreathe, baby. Good, love. Just like that.â His thumb grazed the back of her hand. Her grip was tight, on the verge of painful, but he didnât dare let his face flinch or show an ounce of discomfort. She needed his strength and thatâs exactly what he was going to give her.
They were immediately escorted to their private room and Elainâs vitals were checked over. She was sitting at only two centimeters dilated, which meant they were looking at being there for a bit.
Between her contractions, he swapped out his clothes for a fitted black t-shirt and grey sweatpants to get more comfortable and then sent a text to their siblings to notify them that they were in and settled, but it would be a while before they would have any progress.
âCan you check in with Kaden?â Elain asked, taking a scoop of ice chips from her cup.
The corner of his lips curled up at the question. âI already did. Feyre said he wouldnât leave the front window for a while and had to persuade him with his baby cousin and a lot of sweet treats.â
She snorted, shaking her head. âHeâs going to have a mouth full of cavities before we get home.â Elain twisted to look at him. âDo you think we made the right decision by not letting him come with us? It sounds like heâs waiting for us to return. I know that some families let their little ones be present for the birth of their siblings and we discussed itââ
He interrupted her train of thought. âI think we made the right call, love. Weâre going to be here for a while and we both know that things can upset him. I donât know how well heâd handle watching you go through that.â
She nodded but didnât look very convinced.
Azriel reached for her hand, covering it with his own and squeezing her fingers. âHeâs safe and well-cared for. Remember that while we focus on bringing his little brother and sister into the world.â He brushed his lips over her knuckles in a sweet kiss.
Elain smiled softly at him. âOkay.â
And so, they waited.
Per his wifeâs birthing plan, she wanted to attempt to go natural. Azriel admired her strength and resilience in doing so. But after over sixteen hours of hard labor, he could see her resolve fading.
He stroked her cheek, fingers brushing hair behind her ear. âTalk to me, sweetheart.â
Dark circles already lined the underneath part of her eyes. She looked so weary. âIâm so tired, Az.â Her voice came out nearly broken and fuck if that didnât just rip his beating heart from his chest.
Kissing her forehead, he murmured, âDo you want to get the epidural? Itâll help you get some much-needed rest before the delivery.â As of now, she was only at seven centimeters and the doctor had said it could still be a while longer until she reached a full ten.
Her chin dipped in confirmation. âPlease.â
Azriel didnât waste time calling for the nurse. Within ten minutes, he watched as a grossly large needle was inserted into her back, sending that relief washing over her. He peppered her face with kisses during the procedure, murmuring words of praise and comfort in her ear as she gritted her teeth through it.
Elain spent the next eight hours in a fitful sleep, dosing off and waking up not long after each time. Azriel didnât bother to try and sleep, not when she wasnât really getting much at all.
But finally, after just past nine, she was fully dilated and ready to push.
His wife pushed and pushed and pushed for a half hour with nothing to show for it. She was in tears, frustrated, and so exhausted he was practically supporting all her weight having slid an arm around her shoulders to keep her upright.
âI canât, I canât,â she sobbed, half burying her face into his chest.
âYou can, love. Youâre so strong. Just a little bit more,â he tried to reassure her. It fucking killed him to see her like this.
âCanât you do it for me?â she pleaded, looking up at him with wild, desperate eyes.
He gripped her cheek in his palm, kissing her temple. âYou know I would, El. I would give anything to switch places with you right now. But I know you can do this. Just a few more pushes and then theyâll be here.â
Whatever she read within his words seemed to do the trick, her brows furrowing with a determination he hadnât seen since they left the house. Elain pushed herself up, trying to get into a kneeling position, and he was right there, sliding behind her and supporting her weight.
The nurses squawked, muttering something about hospital policy, but frankly, he did not give a fuck, snarling, âHer body is telling her to push like this. Listen to your fucking patient.â
Changing the position was exactly what she needed because their son was born within the next two contractions, entering the world with a healthy set of lungs.
They sagged back against the pillows, his face wet with tears as they placed their new baby directly on Elainâs bared chest. He couldnât stop himself from tipping her head back to kiss her softly on the lips, pausing the savor the moment.
Az traced the pads of his fingers over the curve of their boyâs cheek, just needing to touch him to prove he was here with them. Even covered in fluids, he was so beautiful. The perfect blend of the two of them.
The nurses gave them just a few minutes with the first baby before Doctor Chen said that she needed to start pushing again. She took their boy from Elainâs arms, promising to bring him back for Azriel after he was cleaned up and their daughter was born.
Delivery of their little girl went easier than with their son. But whereas their boy came out crying, their daughter came out silent.
Azriel knew something was wrong just by the silence, but it only grew the anxiety in his stomach when the doctor turned her back on them, taking their little one with her to work on.
âSheâs not crying,â Elain breathed, worry clouding her voice.
He could only squeeze her shoulders in comfort, watching as they shoved things into her nose and mouth.
âSuction,â Chen ordered.
âAzriel, why isnât she crying?â
âSheâs going to be okay, love. Theyâre helping her. Sheâs okay.â The words passed his lips even as his heart dropped into his stomach when they started doing compressions on her tiny body.
No.
This couldnât be happening. They couldnât lose her. It would kill him to lose his little girl, but Elain, fuck, he couldnât even begin to fathom the devastation she would face at this loss. There was nothing he could do. He couldnât pay to fix this or threaten someone to save their baby girl.
So, he did what any father would do.
He prayed.
He prayed to every god, every deity, everything, and anything he could think of to keep his little girl safe and bring her back to them. To take her place if they demanded it. A life for a life. Heâd pay it for his child, his family. âCome on,â he murmured. âCome on, baby. Come on.â
Elain curved her face into the side of his chest, howling in a way heâd never heard from her before.
His arms went around her, that dreaded feeling turning his blood cold. The terror he felt of their little one dead before she lived was unlike anything heâd ever experienced. But still, he did not stop praying, clutching Elainâs shaking body to his. âCome on, little one. Come on!â he chanted. âPlease.â
And then, a rattled cough tore from her tiny body, followed by the sweet, beautiful sound of her cry.
Elainâs wail turned into relieved sobs, as the doctor walked over their bundled little girl and placed her into his wifeâs awaiting arms.
âSomebody was just so excited to meet you, she took a breath a little too early, but we cleared out her passages and lungs and she looks good now.â
His wife tucked their daughter into her chest, kissing the top of her head. âHi sweet girl, Mommaâs here,â she whispered, tears still falling down her cheeks. Tears that matched the ones running down his face.
She was here. His baby girl. Fuck, she looked just like him, with dark hair and tanned skin. He hadnât gotten a look at her eyes yet, but already she was the most beautiful thing heâd ever seen.
âHere you go, Mr. Archeron-Knight,â one of the other nurses said, pulling his attention from his wife and daughter as she handed him his son, cleaned up and wrapped in a soft blanket.
The small bundle was gently laid in the crook of his elbow. Azriel didnât think heâd ever feel the amount of love he did on Kadenâs adoption day, but sitting here with his gorgeous wife, holding their newborn twins, he felt his heart soar in his chest.
Sweaty and fatigued, Elain glanced up at his face, the sweetest, exhausted smile pulling on her lips. âI love you,â she murmured.
He let out a sound that was a cross between a chuckle and a sob. âI love you more.â And then he kissed her, sealing that moment in time with his undying love for her.
~~~~~
Elain woke to the sound of a whimpering cry, swiftly followed by Azrielâs low voice.
âHey, sweet girl. Whatâs wrong, huh?â She heard some shuffling as her husband lifted their daughter from the nursery bed. âMomma needs her sleep so we need to be quiet.â He kept his voice low enough to not disturb herâfuck she loved him so muchâbut she was already awake, rolling over in the hospital bed to face him.
Azriel holding his children was, hands down, the sexiest thing sheâd ever seen. How she could even feel the need for him after pushing two babies out of her currently aching and severely injured body was beyond her, but just watching him bounce their fussing daughter made all those desires come roaring to the surface.
Almost as if he could sense her presence, hazel eyes slid to hers. âIâve got her, love. Go back to sleep.â His voice remained soft as night as if anything louder would disturb her.
She curled up on her side, watching him. âI think we should get used to no sleep now.â
He huffed a laugh, patting Rosalie on her back as she further settled into the crook of his elbow.
Their daughter was almost two pounds smaller than her brother, coming in right at five whereas Ryder was a healthy six pounds, fourteen ounces. The doctor was a little concerned over Rosalieâs lower birth weight, but Elain had managed to get both babies to latch and feed earlier and she ate well, so they were mainly playing it by ear.
Because of her smaller size, Azriel already placed an order for some preemie clothes and sent a photo of her with the twins to their siblings. They asked to give them a day to recuperate before coming to the hospital in the morning. After the scare with Rosalie, both she and Azriel wanted to take some time to spend with the babies. Plus, the medical team was in and out of their room, taking Rosalie for some additional tests just to be sure everything looked good.
It was just after seven that night, and they were settling in for the evening. Tired of hospital food, Azriel ordered hamburgers from DoorDash for them to eat. Elain was starving and it sounded so good that she drooled when she suggested it to him. Both babies had been fed only an hour earlier and she anticipated not having another feeding till late evening or early morning.
Elain grabbed whatever sleep she could, knowing sheâd need it when they were released in a couple of days, but she was sure Azriel hadnât slept a wink since sheâd gone into labor.
She pushed herself up, reclining on her pillows. The nurses cleaned her after the delivery and stitched her up from tearing, but Elain couldnât wait to get home and take a proper shower. âDoes she need to be changed?â she asked, nodding to the now-sleeping baby in her husbandâs arms.
Azriel shook his head. âNo, I think she was just fussing.â His dark hair was still mussed up from when he stripped out of his shirt earlier, taking time for skin-to-skin contact with each of the twins.
Elain had to rein in her laugh at how the nurse blushed as he revealed miles of gloriously tanned, tattooed skin and corded muscle. Her husband was a fine specimen, but he never flaunted it, so seeing another woman react to it was humorous especially since he didnât even seem to notice her blushing, stammering state.
âYou should sleep too, Az,â she said instead.
He looked at her, his lips curving up. It had been doing that a lot since the birth of the twins. The sweetest, smallest smile that crept up the corners of his mouth. Almost as if he didnât even realize he was doing it. It was utterly adorable and made him look younger. âIâll rest later. You need it more than me.â
Her shoulders shook in amusement. âYou know, we can sleep when they do.â
âI just donât want to miss a second of them.â His attention returned to his little girl who already had him wrapped around her finger. To be fair, all of their children did. âFuck, I canât believe theyâre here already. It seems like it was only a month ago you found out you were pregnant.â
âI canât believe our first anniversary is coming up in just a handful of weeks.â
At that, he laughed. âI guess a trip for our anniversary is out of the question?â
She grinned. âNot unless all our little ones are coming with us.â Because like hell was she going to be able to leave them so soon. Plus with her nursing, it just wouldnât be ideal.
He seemed to consider her. âWe could take the jet to the Summer District. Kaden will be out of school then and weâll both still be out on leave. Just a thought.â
Gods, he was fucking perfect. âThat might be nice.â
A knock on the door interrupted whatever he was going to say. He frowned in confusion, looking at her.
Elain shrugged, sitting up further on her bed. âCome in,â she called out.
She thought it might be a nurse or a doctor, coming to check on her or the twins. What she didnât expect was for Rhys to peek his head into the room. Surprise lit her features and she glanced at Azriel, who looked equally as bewildered at the sudden visit from their brother.
âHey,â Rhys said. âI apologize for dropping by unannounced, but somebody really couldnât wait till tomorrow to see you.â He opened the door slightly, revealing Kaden clutching a teddy bear, eyes puffy and red from crying.
Her heart ached at the distress their son mustâve been in for Rhys to come all the way here. âHello sweetheart,â she said, keeping her voice soft. âCome here, my love.â
He took a small step further into the room, Rhysâs hand guiding him at the backside of his head. Kaden took slow steps as he approached the side of her bed. âMomma, are you sick?â
She reached out to cup his cheek in her palm. âNo, baby. Iâm not sick. Your brother and sister decided it was time to come out of my tummy.â Her eyes found Azrielâs as he rose from his seat on the couch, moving toward them. âWould you like to meet them?â she asked, returning her gaze to Kadenâs.
His head dipped in confirmation.
Elain pushed herself back even more. âRhys, can you help him up and then grab me that flat pillow over there.â
He set the boy on the bed between her spread legs, Kaden shuffling backward and bumping into her sensitive lower area.
She hissed out in pain before she could stop herself. A wave of agony washed over her with enough intensity that her stomach curdled with nausea.
Azriel reacted immediately. âEasy, buddy. Mommaâs going to be sore for a while and we need to be extra careful with her.â
âIâm okay,â she spoke quickly, not wanting to upset Kaden any more than he already was, and kissed his plump cheek as she breathed through the pain. âOkay, Rhys. Place the pillow over our laps.â
Adjusting his arms in preparation, Azriel gently lowered their daughter until she comfortably rested on the nursing pillow.
âKaden, this is your sister, Rosalie,â he announced, letting his finger stroke her rounded cheek.
Elain couldnât see his face directly, but she did catch his eyes widening as he stared down at her, his fingers carefully tracing over her delicate features just as his father did.
âRosawee,â he said, not quite catching the ending syllable. It would be something they would have to work on. When she kicked a leg within her swaddle, he pulled his hand back, startled.
She laughed, feeling the bed dip as Azriel sat down next to them, bringing over their son. âAnd this is your brother, Ryder.â
He reached out to trace the outline of his brows, the touch gentle and exploratory. âIâm a brother?â he asked, turning his head to look up at her.
âThatâs right sweetheart. Youâre their big brother, and theyâre going to love you so much,â she told him, kissing the top of his head.
Elain took in her family, her incredible husband, and three beautiful children. It sounded so wild to even think about. She was a wife and a mother. Thinking back, she remembered the day that had changed the trajectory of her life forever. The bank robbery a few years back. It was crazy to think how such a terrifying moment altered her life in the best of ways. It brought her back to the love of her life.
It put her on this very path.
Sheâd face every one of the moments since then tenfold as long as it brought her to this point in time, sitting here with her gorgeous little family.
âPerfect.â
She looked up at Rhys, catching him with his phone out.
âYour first family photo.â
Her lips turned up and silver lined her eyes. âThank you, Rhys.â
He waved her off. âDo you want me to take Kaden back with me?â
âNo,â Azriel said, ruffling his eldest sonâs hair. âHe can stay here with us tonight. Can you put his booster seat in our car? The keys are in my bag.â
âYou got it.â He grabbed the keys but paused on the threshold. âAnd congratulations you guys. Rosalie and Ryder are beautiful.â
Azriel leaned further into her side, kissing her temple. âThank you, brother.â Once alone, he turned her head toward his, bringing her mouth to his for a slow, sweet kiss. âI love you so damn much, Elain.â
His smile was infectious, making her lips turn up at the corners. âThank you, Azriel, for giving me this lifeâthese babies. You have made me the happiest I could ever imagine. I love you.â
âMomma! Sheâs got my finger,â Kadenâs giggle interrupted their moment.
They laughed, looking at their three beautiful children.
Elain knew that this perfect moment was just the very beginning of the rest of their lives.
~~~~~
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Tell Me Sweet Little Lies Part 21
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | AO3
-----
He doesn't tell Steve.
There hasn't been a chance to tell Steve, he reasons with himself.
Steve comes back with Robin and Dustin, and has somehow also acquired Lucas and Max. Not long after, Nancy comes by with Mike and El.
He does actually try to hide with Steve in the kitchen while Steve puts together some kind of chicken noodle casserole, but apparently the check in tonight includes how talking with his uncle went, so Eddie has to be too actively involved with it to get a chance to get Steve alone.
By the time everyone's gone, Eddie's exhausted, and he needs to lean on both Robin and Steve to make his way back upstairs.
They've only just made it when the doorbell rings.
Steve groans. "What do those little shits want now?"
Robin laughs at him. "They're your children, Steve," she teases, wrapping an arm around Eddie's waist in preparation for Steve peeling off from them.
Eddie bumps her hip with his, shooting a little grin at her. "You're on shithead wrangling duty tonight," he informs Steve as he and Robin continue on to the bedroom.
"I'm always on shithead wrangling duty," Steve grumbles to himself, but he does head back downstairs.
Eddie assumes one of the party forgot something, and doesn't really think too much of it as he drops down onto the bed, watching Robin start adjusting the pillows.
Or at least, he doesn't think too much of it until he hears Steve call up the stairs.
"Hey, babe? Have you seen Munson hanging around the kids recently?"
Robin freezes, looking at him wide eyed, and Eddie's pretty sure he's holding himself just as still.
Not one of the hoard.
"Stay here," Robin whispers, like Eddie had any intention of doing otherwise.
"Did we join the neighborhood watch or something?" Robin yells back as she heads out of the room, closing the door behind her.
Eddie waits, trying not to vibrate out of his own skin.
Jesus Christ, he's so fucking tired of hiding and waiting.
Fortunately, it's only a few minutes later that Steve and Robin come back, and they look⊠unhappy, but not terribly panicked.
"It was Jason Carver and the only two lackeys he's got left," Robin says.
Eddie breathes out, relaxing just a little. Not ideal, but better than the police.
"One of them saw your uncle driving away from here with Dustin," Robin continues. "They asked about you, but I think they were just fishing."
"Great," Eddie mutters, flopping back dramatically on the bed. "Should've called me the freak, make it sound like you're on their side."
Steve snorts. "I don't want them to think we're on their side."
Which is sweet, but - "It doesn't matter what they think, Stevie, I'd still know you guys were on my side no matter what you said."
"Aw, Eddie," Robin says, and Eddie looks up at her just in time to see her plop down on the bed next to him, resting her head on his shoulder.
He tips his head away, trying to hide his flush.
"It's not that," Steve says. "If they think we're on their side, it opens us up to having them come around more. They'll loop us into things, sure, which wouldn't have been bad for knowing their next moves, but they'll expect things from us. It's a bad idea when you're hiding here. PlusâŠ"
He trails off, considering, and he's quiet until Robin makes a little hum of encouragement.
"I think Jason's too far gone," he says finally. "But Andy and Eric? They're not as convinced. If I treat this like it's stupid, like there's nothing here and they're wasting my time, like it's boring, they might start to reconsider sticking with Jason on this."
Oh.
"King Steve, huh?" Eddie asks quietly.
Steve shrugs one shoulder, a little too careless. "It's not like I don't still know how to navigate all of that. It just doesn't matter anymore. Everything it means, it's just⊠pointless."
Eddie looks over at Robin, to find her looking just as contemplative as he feels. Robin looks back at him, and yeah, he's pretty sure she's thinking the same thing he is.
They scoot apart at the exact same time.
"Come here," Robin says, as Eddie reaches out and makes grabby hands at him.
Steve looks between them, giving a little crooked smile, then he kicks off his shoes and climbs up onto the bed, settling in the middle of the two of them.
Robin pillows her head on Steve's chest, and Eddie squishes in so he can rest his own head on Steve's shoulder. Eventually, they'll have to get up and get ready for bed, reconfigure themselves into their usual sleeping arrangement, but for now?
For now, this is perfect.
â
Eddie's surprised to find he feels good when he wakes up, despite overdoing it the day before.
Knowing that his uncle is safe, that he isn't out there worrying over Eddie - or hating him - is like a massive weight off his chest, makes it a little easier to breathe.
He lets the good mood carry him through getting up and helping make breakfast, refusing to let himself get bogged down in everything he hasn't worked out yet.
Robin is completely on board, it seems, and she and Eddie make a nuisance of themselves while Steve tries to resist getting caught up with them.
A losing battle, when both Eddie and Robin are so determined to distract him. It means some of their pancakes burn while Steve throws chocolate chips at them and they have a competition over whether Robin or Eddie can catch the most of them in their mouths, but it makes Steve laugh and Robin shriek happily whenever she gets a few in a row, so it's worth it.
Eddie likes a little charcoal taste with his breakfast food, anyway, and syrup covers almost anything.
Literally.
Both he and Robin have syrup in their hair, though Robin's is way more obvious, and she bitches at him as she wolfs down her pancakes before heading upstairs to shower.
It's just him and Steve, then, sitting on the ground in front of the coffee table, half eaten pancakes still on their plates, and Eddie feels too good to want to mess this up with any kind of talking.
"She's just trying to get out of helping clean up," Steve grumbles, but he's still smiling, and the morning sun lights him up all golden and gorgeous.
"Wishing you thought of that first, huh, pretty boy?" Eddie teases, all wide smiles and the same reckless thrill he'd gotten hot wiring the camper for Steve to drive.
Steve's smile doesn't slip, his expression doesn't go pinched, but because Eddie's so close to him - because he keeps being close to him, keeps greedily memorizing everything he can about him, his soulmate - he sees the way something shutters in his eyes.
Shit.
Did he push too far, this time? Eddie pulls back, falling hard into straight teasing and away from playful flirting. "Ah, I see His Majesty does not favor being compared to a fair maiden, my mistake. Perhaps he'll forgive-"
Steve is shaking his head, though, cutting him off with, "That's not it."
Eddie raises one eyebrow, a silent invitation to continue.
"It's just - it's always an insult. Like come on, pretty boy, let's see what you've got or wow, it's a good thing you're so pretty, Steve. I know you don't mean it like that, I do, but it's not a compliment when people usually say it, you know?"
Oh.
"I wouldn't know," Eddie says, mostly to buy himself some time to figure out how to really respond to that. "Pretty's not usually something people call me, insult or otherwise."
Now Steve's expression goes pinched, brows drawn down like he's personally offended, and whoops, nope, he can't let Steve go off on that tangent.
"No pretty boy, then," Eddie says hurriedly. "You don't like it, I won't say it."
Steve blinks at him, a little thrown. "âŠjust like that?"
"Just like that," Eddie agrees. "Steve - you don't owe me an explanation about anything, you know that, right? I'll listen if you want to give me one, and it'll probably help me understand, but if I do something that you don't like, you can just tell me, and I'll stop."
Steve considers that for a moment. "I like - this," he says, gesturing between them. "I didn't want you to think I wanted you to stop all of it."
Both of Eddie's eyebrows shoot up this time. Yeah, he kind of figured Steve liked the banter and teasing thing they have going on, or else he wouldn't have continued it, but he didn't expect Steve to flat out acknowledge it.
"All of this is just me being my obnoxious self," Eddie points out, because he can't just leave well enough alone.
Steve rolls his eyes. "Yeah," he says simply. "I like that."
Oh god, Eddie can feel his cheeks heat up, and he ducks his head and hides behind his hair so he doesn't have to look at Steve.
Forget the demobats, his stupid soulmate is going to be the death of him.
"There's plenty of other words besides pretty, anyway," he says, once he's reasonably sure he can nail playful teasing again without sounding flustered. "I'm just going to take this as a challenge to find them."
"Please don't," Steve says dryly, but Eddie can see how hard he's fighting not to smile, and he knows he has him.
"Whatever you say, beautiful," Eddie replies, batting his eyelashes at him.
Steve's ears go a little pink, and oh, that's still just as nice as the first time Eddie saw it. It only makes him latch onto his dumb plan even harder.
"Shut up." Steve shoves him.
"No," Eddie replies, so fucking delighted he can't help but grin all wide and gleaming. "My soulmate's so fucking beautiful it makes me want to weep, look at you."
The pink on Steve's ears deepens, and he gives Eddie a look that is probably supposed to be venomous, but his eyes are gleaming with affection and it only makes him more attractive.
And this is - everything that Eddie's ever wanted, everything that he thinks he could actually have if he asked. After the butterflies, he's more than pretty sure that Steve wants Eddie the same way that Eddie wants him, and more than that - he thinks Steve is brave enough to go for it, even with how messy and complicated things might be.
It's just that Eddie isn't.
He knows he has to stop this, knows he needs to pull back and stop fucking flirting, because it feels like this is it, this is the thing that's leading them both to something else, and god, he can't do something else.
But he can't seem to make himself stop.
Not when Steve keeps looking at him, and Eddie is starting to be able to read him well enough to recognize what these looks mean. He knows that with the way the glint in Steve's eyes has sharpened and the corner of his mouth half turned up, he's thinking of something that Eddie'd probably brushed past and thought he'd successfully deflected. He knows that Steve's about to open his mouth and prove that nope, he still remembers that and he isn't letting that go and -
"Do you mind being called pretty?" Steve asks.
Fuck.
"No," Eddie's saying before his brain catches up with him. "I mean, like I said, wouldn't know. But no, I don't mind it. In theory."
Steve twists a little, upper body turning so he can look at him headlong instead of from the side, planting his hand on the ground for balance - so close to Eddie that if he leaned just a little, he could brush Steve's arm. Steve's other arm is resting on his propped up knee, loose and relaxed. It's stupid, how effective that is, how it opens Steve up to him and creates a little barrier from the rest of the world with his body, like Eddie's got all of Steve's attention now and he's shutting out the rest of the world.
"You are really pretty, Eds," Steve says.
It should sound smooth and practiced. Eddie tries to remind himself that it's a fucking line, that Steve's probably said it to dozens of girls, but when Steve says it now it comes out a little breathy and quiet and so fucking earnest that Eddie's throat closes up.
"I'm sorry that everyone's been too stupid to notice it, or not brave enough to tell you." It sounds just as genuine, and fuck, the way Steve is looking at him. "I'm more sorry that I used to be one of them."
Eddie swallows. "But you're not now?"
"I'm not now," Steve agrees.
Is he closer? Eddie's pretty sure he's leaned in closer, and the hand Steve's got on his knee twitches like he's thinking about reaching in to touch Eddie - maybe Eddie's own knee, maybe he's going to cup his chin and hold him steady as he -
The doorbell rings.
"Fuck," Eddie swears.
Steve's eyes dart toward the stairs, like he's considering going to get Robin out of the shower to answer the door with him again, then he exhales sharply and shakes his head.
"Hide," Steve says.
"Where?" Eddie asks, his heart still pounding, though for an entirely different reason now.
"Anywhere. No, wait, not the kitchen, just - don't tell me where, just go, somewhere I can't see you," Steve replies.
Eddie pushes himself up, darting down the hall to the double doors that have always been closed, and ducks inside them. It's an office, the smell of old leather and dust heavy in the air. He considers leaving the door open a crack so he can hear, but he doesn't want to be too obvious, so instead he just presses himself up against the wood when it's closed so he can try to hear through it.
It's muffled, but he can just pick up the sound of Steve opening the door, an indistinct conversation, and then footsteps down the hall.
"How do you take it?" he can hear Steve asking from the kitchen.
"Just cream, thanks," one voice says, followed by a second saying, "Cream and two sugars."
There's the sound of dishes clanking around.
"Thanks for letting me know," Steve says. "Like I said, I haven't been out of the house yet this morning. Had kind of a late night with my soulmate - she's up in the shower now."
"Do you have any idea who might have done this?" the first voice asks, and Eddie recognizes it now - Chief Powell.
Shit.
"I don't want to put blame on anyone without evidence," Steve says, his voice a little reluctant like yeah, he does have an idea - giving them something to press him for.
The other voice, the one Eddie's guessing is Callahan, immediately jumps on it. "But you do have an idea?"
Steve sighs. "Jason Carver was here last night. I think he's pissed at me for talking in the town meeting, and he kept insisting that I must have been, like, hypnotized into Eddie Munson's cult or something."
"âŠbut you haven't, right?" Callahan asks.
Steve snorts, and Eddie can just picture the bitchy look that he's making. "Come on, really? Eddie Munson leading a cult? The guy failed Zoology because he felt bad dissecting frogs."
That's not completely why, but Eddie can still feel his cheeks heating up. He hadn't known Steve remembered that.
"Look, I feel for him, but Carver wants someone to blame, and it kind of seems like he doesn't care who that is." Steve's voice dips a little lower. "I knew Patrick and Chrissy, you know? Patrick was a good guy, a great basketball player, and Chrissy was nice to everyone. They deserve better, they deserve real justice. I just think Carver should keep his nose out of it and leave the investigating up to the actual professionals."
"Hear, hear," Callahan says, sounding pleased.
It must have not been a lie, but Eddie's pretty sure Callahan and Powell aren't the professionals Steve means.
"Did the neighbors say they saw anyone?" Steve asks.
"Not last night, but they did mention you have quite a few people coming and going," Powell says. "You know who they might mean?"
Steve hums thoughtfully. "Robin Buckley, my soulmate, she's here most days. Nancy Wheeler and her brother are over a lot. Jon Byers, he's visiting from California, and he usually comes with his friend Argyle and his little brother and sister. Lucas Sinclair, he's on the basketball team? And his soulmate Max. Then there's Dustin Henderson, I still babysit him sometimes when his mom's working late. I think it makes her feel better, you know, with everything going on."
"Checks out," Callahan says. "So, are you thinking you want to press charges if we find out it was Carver?"
Steve's quiet for a moment. "No," he says finally. "I meant what I said about feeling for him. Just, maybe talk to his parents? Before he goes too far and does something stupid he can't go back from."
"Good man," Callahan says. "Thanks for the coffee, this is way better than the crap we get at the station."
"Let me make you a thermos to go," Steve offers.
There's more clanking, then the sound of footsteps walking away - though only one pair.
"You don't happen to know where Eddie Munson might be, do you?" Powell asks.
Eddie holds his breath, suddenly and ridiculously afraid that if he even breathes too loud, Powell will know.
"Honestly, I have no idea where he is right now," Steve says.
Powell hums. "If you do see himâŠ"
"Yeah, sure, I'll tell him you're looking for him," Steve says.
"And tell him he's not our top suspect anymore," Powell adds. "We just want to ask him a few questions."
"Sure," Steve says again.
There's a long silence.
"We'll talk to the Carvers," Powell promises, and then Eddie can hear footsteps receding.
The front door closes, locks, but Eddie still waits until he hears clanging in the kitchen again before he steps out.
He finds Steve setting a pair of cups in the dishwasher, a new pot of coffee percolating in the maker.
"Hey," Eddie says.
Steve closes the dishwasher, looking up at him. "You hear any of that?"
"Some," Eddie admits. "What did Carver do?"
Steve breathes out, forearms braced against the kitchen island as he leans forward. "Keyed up my car, smashed my tail lights in. Spray painted a little message on the driveway."
Fuck.
Eddie has to get moving, way too full of nervous energy, so he makes his way over to the cabinet to take out another mug. "What did it say?"
"Does it matter?" Steve asks, sounding tired.
Eddie slams the cabinet door shut. "What did it say."
Steve's quiet, and when Eddie turns around, he finds him looking at him far too closely.
"What?" Eddie demands.
"Eddie," Steve says, pushing himself up to come stand next to him.
Despite himself, Eddie finds some of the tension bleeding out of him. "What?" he asks, softer this time.
"You're my soulmate. Okay? You're my soulmate. It could have said anything, and I wouldn't care. He could do it again, with something else, and I'll be pissed, but I won't regret having you here."
Eddie closes his eyes, rocking back to lean against the kitchen counter. "Stop knowing what I'm upset about before I do," he mutters.
Steve huffs out a little laugh. "No."
"What does it say?" Eddie asks again.
"Traitor," Steve replies.
Eddie snorts.
"Yeah," Steve says.
They're quiet for a moment, and Eddie listens to the sound of the coffee hissing.
"I'm going to turn myself in," Eddie says after a while.
"What? No."
Eddie opens his eyes. "Come on, Steve. If I don't - do you really think Carver is going to stop now? What if he decides just to break in here, huh? What if I can't hide quick enough next time?"
Steve jaw sets, and Eddie can tell he isn't happy about it, but he can't seem to think of a good counter argument. "Then I'm going with you."
Eddie grimaces, but yeah, he'd been expecting that, and he pulls out his trump card. "Only if Robin agrees."
Unfortunately, Robin agrees.
He frowns at her in utter betrayal while Steve gets El to put Hopper on the walkie and gives him a rundown of what happened.
Robin shrugs at him. "You should know by now that Steve's never going to let himself be sidelined when someone he cares about decides to throw themselves off the bench."
"You two and your sports metaphors," Eddie grumbles, but he has to admit - at least to himself - that she's right.
If they tried to stop Steve, he'd probably find a way to come anyway.
Hopper agrees to meet with Murray again today, then come over tomorrow to make a plan for the actual going to the police station part, and Eddie trudges upstairs to call his uncle at the hotel.
Uncle Wayne doesn't like it, Eddie can tell, but like Steve, he can't think of an argument good enough to beat Eddie's, so he just agrees to meet them here tomorrow, too, and makes Eddie promise not to do anything until they all agree on a plan.
Eddie really wishes that he could just get this over with, now that he's decided he's going to do it, but unfortunately, they all have a point.
So he just takes his own shower, gets the syrup out of his hair as best as he can, and tries not to be pissy about more fucking waiting.
When he gets out of the bathroom - Steve's sitting on the bed, clearly waiting for him.
"Hi," Steve says. "Can we talk?"
Shit.
Eddie swallows. "Now?"
"I don't want to keep waiting, man, especially not if we're doing this tomorrow," Steve says.
And yeah, okay, Eddie can't really protest that, so he just nods, sitting on the bed next to Steve.
"It's just - I'm really, really into you," Steve says, his voice soft and low and his eyes warm and earnest. "And it kind of seems like you're into me, too."
Fuck.
Steve huffs out a soft little laugh, running his fingers through his hair. "I mean, maybe I'm wrong, and I have no idea how to tell if a guy's interested in me like I usually can with girls - I'm kind of still new at the guys part - but I thought, you know. What if I'm right, what if I'm missing out on something great? And I figured even if I went for it and I was wrong, you'd be good about it. You wouldn't like, punch me or anything."
"Steve," Eddie breathes out, touched by the sentiment despite the fact that he can already feel his heart breaking over what he knows he's going to have to do. "That's a lot of trust in me there."
"I trust you," Steve says, like it's that easy, no hesitation. "Plus, you know, I'm your soulmate, so you're stuck with me no matter what."
He sounds confident, and if Eddie didn't know him so well, he's not sure he could hear the little hitch in his voice, or see the hint of fear in his eyes.
"You're my soulmate," he agrees, rushing to get that out before anything else. "I'm not going anywhere, no matter what."
Steve shoots a tiny relieved smile at him, leaning in so their shoulders press together. They sit like that for a few moments, silence resting between them - it's warm and cozy despite the tension, like melted marshmallow being stretched longer and longer.
"But?" Steve asks after a bit.
Eddie swallows, running a hand over his face to try to buy him some time while he figures out how to say this without either lying or hurting them both even more.
"You're not wrong," he says finally. "I am into you. Steve, I - I love having you as my soulmate. I wouldn't want it to be anyone else. I'm happy with you, okay? I am."
Steve nods, though his expression has shut down a little, and Eddie can't quite read what's in his eyes anymore.
"ButâŠ" Steve prompts again.
Eddie closes his eyes, taking the coward's way out so he doesn't have to look at Steve while he says it. "But I don't think I could handle sharing if we were romantic soulmates."
There's silence again, and Eddie can hear Steve pull in a ragged breath and let it out.
"Okay," Steve says after a while.
Eddie opens his eyes. "Okay?"
Steve frowns at him. "What am I supposed to say?"
"I don't know," Eddie admits. "You could be a little bit of a dick about it? Tell me I don't know what I'm missing, that I could be having the full Steve Harrington experience here? Yell at me for breaking your heart?"
Steve snorts. "There's no full Steve Harrington experience."
Eddie gasps, mock affronted. "There is, didn't you listen to the gossip? I would be most aggrieved if I didn't get it."
Steve rolls his eyes, shoving him. Then, "My heart'll live. You are, shockingly, not the first person who's had to shoot me down like this."
Eddie thinks of Nancy Wheeler, feels his stomach clench a little at being on the same level as that whole mess. "Sorry," he says quietly.
"I mean, I'm not going to pretend like it doesn't suck, but I'm happy with you, too, okay? I want you as my soulmate, no matter what."
Eddie groans. "What did I tell you about saying stuff like that to me?"
Steve gives him a little smile. "I'm still not going to stop."
It's quiet again, not quite like the comfortable silences Eddie'd gotten used to with Steve, but something close.
"So. Boys, huh?" he asks after a while. "Who'd have thought that'd be something Steve Harrington was into."
Steve fixes him with a look. "Boys, huh?" he mimics. "Who'd have thought that'd be something Eddie Munson was into?"
Eddie shrugs one shoulder, conceding. Eddie'd worked very hard to be the freak, to be the type of metal-loving, Satan-worshiping, drug-dealing scary guy that people were afraid would steal their daughter or girlfriend or sister away. Granted, most of it hadn't actually been work, but it still wasn't really who he was.
"Mostly boys," he says, if only to actually say it outloud, to let himself be purposefully vulnerable with Steve even though they both already know. "There's been a few girls-" He tries hard not to think about Chrissy Cunningham's sweet smile and bright laugh. "-but mostly boys."
"Opposite for me," Steve says quietly. "Mostly girls, but - yeah, a few boys."
Eddie's eyebrows shoot up. "A few boys? Steve, are you telling me I'm not the first boy you've had eyes for?"
"Shut up," Steve says, shoving Eddie away when he makes grabby hands at him. "You're the first boy I ever wanted to be my soulmate, but yeah, all right, not my first crush."
Eddie lets himself feel all soft and gooey for a moment before he goes back to hassling Steve to tell him who.
"Ugh, fine," Steve groans. "But you can't tell anyone."
"Cross my heart," he promises.
"Jonathan," Steve mutters.
Eddie's forehead crinkles. "Byers?" He takes the silence as agreement, and grins at him. "What, get a little too into being up close and personal with him when you guys had that fight?"
Steve groans. "No. Believe it or not, I've experienced too much getting knocked around to get off on it, thanks. No, it was after, when we were fighting the demogorgon. Jonathan grabbed my hand to pull me away, and I just kind of instinctively grabbed it back, and then we were holding hands and I just - it was nice. I thought about it later, and realized I really liked holding his hand."
And that, well. Realizing that you like boys because it was really nice when a boy held your hand in the middle of fighting a monster is so Steve that it makes his heart ache, that it kind of makes him want to say fuck it and kiss him.
"Yeah?" Eddie asks instead, wiggling his eyebrows. "Whose hand holding is better, then, me or Byers?"
Steve's expression doesn't change, but his eyes shutter - Eddie can see it now even more than he could when he called him pretty boy, can see the flicker of pain there before he just shuts himself down.
"Oh," Eddie says quietly. "Should I not?"
There's a moment where Steve considers that.
"No," he says after a while. "That was okay. But I think we might have to put a pause on too heavy innuendo, or too many jokes about me wanting you. Just for a little bit."
"Yeah," Eddie mutters, feeling his heart crack a little more. "I can do that." He pulls his legs up, arms wrapped around them. "Sorry."
"It's not your fault, man," Steve says.
Eddie rests his chin on his knees, ignoring the slight sting from the tug of his stitched together skin. "Kind of feels like it is, a little," he admits. "I mean, Robin's okay with sharing."
Or at least, he assumes she is. He knows there's no way Steve would confess romantic feelings for him if Robin didn't know about it or wasn't on board.
"That's different," Steve says.
And - yeah, true. Robin's got another soulmate waiting for her, too, and maybe that makes it easier to share a romantic soulmate.
Steve looks a little troubled, though, and he leans just a little to bump their shoulders together. "I don't - I don't expect you to be Robin, you know that, right? Platonic or romantic, it's different."
Eddie snorts. "Well, yeah, I'd hope things would be a little different if we were - you know." It's half teasing and half serious, and he considers for a moment before adding, "I know you don't expect that."
Steve nods, and Eddie can hear him breathing out, feel a slow release of tension. There's quiet for a little longer, then Steve says, almost haltingly, "I don't⊠think romantic relationships mean more than platonic. I used to, but, uh. Almost everyone who's ever really meant anything to me has been platonic. Once I got out of high school, and with the Upside Down stuff, I just⊠I don't know. But Robin and you and the kids - you're the most important people in my life. You always will be."
He doesn't know what to say to that. It touches too closely on what's been pulling him into the party and pushing him away from it this whole time - he doesn't really know how to let people see the real him, not after so long of keeping up his walls to protect himself.
Or he guesses - he doesn't know what to do now that there are people who've seen the real him, and who still want to keep him. Eddie's only ever had Uncle Wayne like that, and he doesn't know how to be important to people, how to be more than just a band member or a dungeon master.
He's terrified of messing it up.
"I'll keep that in mind," he says finally, which seems to be enough for Steve, who bumps his shoulder and then pushes himself up, heading out to go join Robin.
It wasn't a lie, obviously, so Eddie believes that Steve doesn't think romantic soulmates mean more than platonic ones. The thing is - does Eddie believe that romantic soulmates mean more?
And it's.
Yeah.
He does.
Which means he guesses there's more he has to think about.
Eddie: well at least Steve and I are totally on the same page now, now all I have to do is turn myself into the police and reevaluate my opinions on platonic and romantic soulmates, sounds good
-----
Part 22
Steve: wow I am 2 for 2 on confessing to my soulmates and getting gently shot down, platonic for life it is
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#steddie#eddie munson#steve harrington#robin buckley#steddie fic#steddie soulmate au#platonic soulmates stobin
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