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luminnara · 6 months

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Protector | Feyd-Rautha x reader

ANON REQUEST: your marriage to Feyd-Rautha is an arranged one, and your only task is to provide an heir. When you finally become pregnant, your new husband suddenly grows obsessed with you—but does he care about you, or is he simply protective of his progeny?

Warnings: pregnancy, labor, and related talk; canon typical violence

MY REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

Your marriage was one born out of duty, not love. You couldn’t even call it a marriage of convenience; there was nothing convenient about leaving your homeworld and traveling across an entire galaxy to marry someone you had never even met before. Yes, the Houses had agreed beforehand that you were to marry Feyd-Rautha, the Na-Baron of House Harkonnen, and immediately after the deal had been struck you had seen his face and read his writing, but you hadn’t met him until your wedding day.

You had chastised yourself for thinking it could be like the fairytales of Ancient Earth. You, a princess, your betrothed a handsome prince…in the stories of your childhood, he would have whisked you away, off to a great, shining palace full of magical wonders, and you would have lived happily ever after. Instead, your prince had proved to be disinterested in you, busying himself with his arena and his concubines, ignoring you most of the day. The Harkonnen fortress did not shine, nor did it hold any great wonders, and Giedi Prime felt far from magical, with its harsh black sun and polluted landscape.

After your vows, you had naively thought your wedding night would be full of romance. Perhaps you had been holding onto hope as a means to protect yourself, clinging to optimism to distract yourself from your harsh, sad reality. You had been all too eager to shed your dress and veil in Feyd-Rautha’s living quarters, though had not expected them to be ruined by his blade, and you had not expected him to greedily conquer you as if it were yet another battle in the arena. He had slept next to you that night, but had made it painfully obvious that he had no interest in holding you or even touching you, keeping far to his side of the bed while you remained far to yours. In the morning, you had awoken alone, and had realized that it was the beginning of a long and lonely road on your new planet.

Everyone expected an heir. That was the entire point of this marriage, a legitimate heir for the Harkonnen line. Anyone else could have done it—you were of fine breeding, yes, but any of the other Houses could have offered up a daughter to suffer at Feyd-Rautha’s side. Why it had to be you surely came down to the only things powerful men seemed to care about—money and spice. An allegiance with House Harkonnen protected your family, and your small share of spice harvesters on Arrakis added yet another drop into their vast bucket and one less smuggling operation to worry about. Your parents were happy. Baron Vladimir Harkonnen was happy.

And you were miserable.

Two months after your wedding, your monthly cycle continued as normal, and you were forced to shamefully inform the na-Baron. After an annoyed sound and a grimace, he bent you over the nearest table and took you for a second time, leaving you to clean yourself up and cry at your husband’s callousness. You didn’t know why he couldn’t bring himself to care. You supposed he already had everything he could possibly want; wealth, concubines, a throne to inherit…you brought nothing of real value to him, save for the ability to produce an heir.

Time passed, and it became clear that Feyd-Rautha would have to touch you more than once a month if he was to have any hope of fathering a child. You cursed yourself for your apparent inability to conceive—fertility had been one of your parents’ selling points when negotiating with the Baron, and now, you couldn’t even do the one thing that was expected of you. It brought you to tears every night, the stress of being reduced to this and yet still being unable to perform your task. It was maddening, though you knew you were hardly the first woman to find yourself in such a situation. You did worry, however, that you may have been the weakest.

One evening, as Feyd performed his husbandly duties, he noticed a tear slipping down your cheek and paused. You felt a rough hand cup the side of your face and opened your eyes to find your husband staring at you with dark eyes, his head tilted to suggest he was curious.

“Tears?” He asked in his raspy voice that was still so alien to you.

“My apologies, na-Baron,” you looked away from him.

“You are crying.”

You stifled an annoyed sigh. “Yes.”

“Why?”

“Do not worry yourself with me, husband.” You said.

“Tell me.”

This was perhaps the longest conversation you had had since marrying him, and part of you didn’t want it to end. You looked at him once more, finding him still watching you with that unwavering, predatory gaze, and another tear rolled down your cheek and onto his hand.

“I am sorry I have not given you a child.” You whispered.

“Then let me put one into you.”

His tone sent a chill down your spine, frightening and exciting you all at once. That night, Feyd-Rautha did not let you sleep, shocking you with his determination. It was simply because the sooner you conceived, the sooner he could return to his own concerns, you reasoned.

Sure enough, your period did not arrive when expected, nor did the next. A medical test confirmed what you already knew—you were pregnant, with Feyd-Rautha’s child. A Harkonnen child, who would grow up to be just as ruthless and savage as its father, you thought.

Upon receiving the positive result, you immediately set off to tell the na-Baron. He should not be made to wait; you wanted him to know that the entire point of your union was finally achieved, and that you could both go back to ignoring each other as usual. As you walked, you had the worrying thought that he may not even keep you alive after the delivery.

“Na-Baron,” you addressed him upon finding him in his armory.

He looked up from the blade he was sharpening. “Wife.”

“I bring news,” you said, folding your hands in front of yourself.

“Then tell me, before I grow bored of waiting.” He returned to the hunting knife, looking away from you once more.

“I am with child.”

You watched as Feyd-Rautha paused, tilting his head to look at you. “My child?”

“Yes. Who else could it possibly belong to?” You asked, exasperated. “The physicians confirmed it just now. I wanted you to be the first to know.”

He nodded slowly, looking back at the knife in his hand as he thought. “I see.”

Whatever hopes you had once had for him to suddenly flip his entire personality at the news were quickly dashed by his lack of emotion. You left him there, a hand over your mouth as you tried not to cry, returning to your bed to be alone once more.

-0-

In those earlier days of pregnancy, you were often ill, sprinting from bed to the wash basin nearly every day to be sick. Usually, you were alone; Feyd-Rautha rose early, spending his mornings training and sometimes killing his instructors. Whenever that happened, he would come back, wearing blood and a grin on his face as if he had just won some great contest.

Today, however, he was enjoying a rare occasion of sleeping in. He had begun spending his nights in the center of the bed, crowding you as you attempted to stay away from him. One morning you had even woken up to find his arm throne over you, his body closer than ever. Now, he was sleeping, and you would have been content to let him remain there were you not busy launching yourself over him as you ran to the adjoining wash room.

You missed the way your husband sat up, eyes wide and frenzied as he pulled a dagger from beneath the pillows. When he found the room to be empty and free of danger, he grew confused…until he heard your retching in the next room, and slipped out of bed.

“Wife?” He asked from the doorway.

“What?” You groaned, leaning your cheek on the cool basin.

“…are you alright?”

You sighed. “No, na-Baron, I am not. I mean…I am, I just…”

“You are sick,” he pointed out.

It took every bit of willpower you possessed to swallow down the part of you that desperately wanted to throttle him. “Yes. I am. It’s the pregnancy, the pills from the doctors haven’t been working—“

“This has happened before?” He interrupted.

“Most days, yes,” you felt another wave of nausea coming over you and hunched your shoulders, preparing for the worst.

You never expected to feel a cool hand brushing your hair away from your forehead, nor the feeling of your husband’s chest against your back as he held you.

“Harkonnen women don’t have this problem,” he commented as he held your hair.

It was the least helpful statement he possibly could have made as you vomited once more, and yet it was also quite possibly the best.

“If Harkonnen women have no hair, then what do you pull?” You asked wryly, too ill and too exhausted to hold yourself back.

Feyd-Rautha stared you, unblinking, before a smirk found its way onto his lips. “If you are feeling brave, perhaps I will show you one day.”

You let out a laugh as the nausea ebbed, leaning back against him. “Perhaps one day I will finally stop seeing my lunch so many times, and then you can regale me.”

-0-

Your sickness faded as your pregnancy progressed, thankfully, but Feyd-Rautha’s company did not. By the time you were beginning to truly show, he was refusing to leave you alone, demanding your presence wherever he went. As a result, you sat in on many a sparring session, and he made up his mind to abandon the arena until after the baby was born. His sudden change in attitude was shocking; he had never paid so much attention to anything before, and now, his hands were constantly on you.

“I must keep you safe,” he had said when you first asked about it, and had acted as if it were the most obvious thing in the universe.

You assumed he was protective due to the baby, the precious new heir to the Harkonnen throne. As its vessel, you were afforded some luxuries, but you fully expected that to change after the birth. For now, though, you were content to receive any and all attention your husband saw fit to pay you.

“That went well,” you said one day after the doctor examined you.

“He should not have touched you like that.” Feyd-Rautha growled.

“What do you mean? He’s a doctor,” you laughed, somewhat nervously.

“I did not like it.” His voice was tense.

“I could tell.” You grumbled, dropping your happy façade. He had nearly chased the doctor out of the room, hunting knife in hand. “Examinations are unavoidable, I’m afraid.”

“No more.”

“But—“

“No more strangers touching you.”

"Doctors help," you protested. "Don't you want your child to be healthy?"

At that, Feyd paused in thought. "...You may have a Harkonnen midwife."

"Because a Harkonnen doctor is too much?" You asked dryly.

He glared at you briefly before looking away towards the door. "Come."

You audibly groaned, one hand on your lower back. "Na-Baron, I am tired. I wish to retire to bed."

He looked back at you, and you caught an expression of distress on his face. "I need to train."

"You train every day."

"Yes." he said it as if it were obvious, but something in his tone suggested more; he made it sound urgent, as if it were something he had to do daily, and missing a single session would be disastrous. "Come."

You heaved a sigh and followed him.

-0-

In the months that followed, your unborn child grew, as did your body. You found yourself becoming large and bloated, your gait slowing as your flexibility waned. New maternity gowns were brought to you, an interesting mix of styles--the flowing, heavy garments of your homeworld meeting the simple, stark aesthetics of Giedi Prime. You found them strange, but at that point, you really didn't care; you would have walked around naked if no one would have stopped you. You spent your days feeling uncomfortable and awkward, with swollen feet and a sore lumbar region. Harkonnen servants brought whatever you needed, and your husband ensured--no, demanded--that all of your food be tasted by someone else while you watched so that there could be no chance of poison passing between your lips.

You wondered if this was simply some aspect of Harkonnen culture that the other Houses weren't aware of or never cared to talk about. Perhaps on a planet as harsh and toxic as Giedi Prime, infertility and infant mortality were more commonplace than the rest of the known universe. Perhaps this possessiveness was common among Harkonnen men, if conception was more difficult for their people.

Whether your theory was correct or not, Feyd-Rautha had certainly become even more attached to you. Not a morning went by when he wasn’t there next to you in bed, and as of late, he had begun waking you up by reminding you exactly how you had ended up like this in the first place. Before your pregnancy, he had acted as though bedding you were a boorish duty he had no choice but to perform; now that you were heavy with child, however, he was more than interested in you physically, constantly touching you with those rough, murderous hands.

You enjoyed the attention, and you enjoyed the way he squeezed and massaged you with surprising gentleness. He didn’t want to break you, you supposed, not right now; after the child arrived, perhaps, but not now. That was a grim thought, and one you had often—what was to come of your after the birth? Would Feyd-Rautha want more children, in case this one died some horrible, brutal, Harkonnen death? Or would you be disposed of, no longer needed after his legacy was secured?

You tried not to dwell on it.

One morning, you roused on your own, without Feyd’s interference. Wondering if he was even still there, you reached out to the side, feeling for him—and you nearly jumped when you felt bare flesh beneath your hand. When you rolled onto your back with considerable effort and turned your head to the side, you saw that your husband was there, still sleeping, and that what you had felt was his exposed chest.

You took the moment to look at him, really look at him. He seemed so peaceful like this, when he wasn’t fighting and killing. You had seen him take lives so quickly that his victims hadn’t even known they had died, and you had wondered how someone could be so dismissive of those around them. The first time you had watched your husband slit a throat, you had nearly vomited, and he had found your revulsion amusing; the most recent, however, you had simply sighed and looked away. You were desensitized, it seemed, just like he was, and now, you slept just as easily after watching him commit horrendous acts of violence as he did now.

Feyd-Rautha was handsome as far as Harkonnens went. His skin was smooth like marble, free of the scars and bruises one might expect to see on a warrior. His face, usually so harsh during the waking hours, was relaxed now, and you realized he was beautiful. You couldn’t keep yourself from brushing your fingers over his lips and feeling how surprisingly soft they were, though in a way, this felt wrong. Feyd-Rautha didn’t strike you as the kind of person who would allow this sort of touch, but when would you have this opportunity again? He always rose first in the morning and slept last at night. You never caught him with his guard down, and you kept your hands to yourself during the day. This was the only time you could marvel at him like this.

As your fingers ghosted across his cheek, he twitched, and you froze. Then, to your horror, an eye cracked open, and you knew that he had been awake all along.

When you moved to pull away, he caught your wrist, then covered your hand in his. He held your gaze for several long, strange moments, and you realized that he hadn’t simply been awake—he had been allowing you to touch his face, to explore him in a way you had never been brave enough to before. It felt like a gift, in a way. In his way.

“I apologize,” you breathed, unable to look away from him.

“Why?” He asked, voice deep and rough with sleep.

“I should not have touched you without permission.”

“I am your husband,” he said. “And you are carrying my child. You do not need permission to touch me.”

Somehow, you knew his words carried a deeper meaning. You knew you were one of, if not the only, one on all of Giedi Prime whom he had said those words to. And for the first time since marrying him, you felt that Feyd-Rautha was truly your husband.

-0-

He was with you when the labor began.

You had been lounging in your shared chambers, enduring the final week of your pregnancy. It felt bittersweet, in a way; you had no way of knowing then if you would ever be experiencing this again, and a part of you desperately wanted to hold onto it while the rest was fed up with feeling massive and uncomfortable every day.

Feyd-Rautha had been agitated all morning. It was as if he had known something was about to happen, and he had spent his time barely containing himself as he paced and sharpened knives, attempting to keep to himself and leave you alone and doing a piss poor job of it. You had been ready to chase him out of the room—or at least attempt to—when you felt your waters go and the panic set in.

That had been three hours ago.

Now, you were in your bed, and a shockingly-diligent Harkonnen na-Baron had yet to leave your side. He had briefly stepped into the corridor to bellow at the nearest passerby and your midwife had arrived very quickly as a result, but after that, he had sat down next to you and refused to go anywhere else.

“Is it agony?” He asked as you stood.

You shot him a glare. “I would not wish this sensation on even you.”

He was taken aback by your tone, impressed, even, by the venom in it.

“A short walk about the room may help,” the midwife suggested. “I will assist—“

“No.” Feyd-Rautha was up and at your side in an instant, taking your elbow. “I will.”

You didn’t care who did what, you just wanted it to be over and done with. The labor was progressing quickly, the midwife assured after another check once you were back in bed, and soon, you were wailing and grunting, your face was sweaty, and the na-Baron was staring in awe. You were focused on the task set before you, one hand on Feyd’s arm as you pushed with all your might, and so you could not see the way your husband was looking at you.

When your son was born and crying at the top of his tiny lungs, Feyd-Rautha cut the umbilical cord with a hunting knife and then he stared. It seemed that the entire time, he was incapable of looking away, his eyes glued to either you or the new Harkonnen heir. You supposed he had been too enthralled to order the midwife out of the room, and the woman was smart enough not to push her luck—she did the necessary examinations as quickly as she could, then handed the baby off to you, busying herself with cleaning what looked like a murder scene and gathering the afterbirth when it came. Then, satisfied with her work and the health of the child, she left, and you were alone with your husband and son.

You cradled the infant, tucking him against your breast and pulling the edge of your robe over him in an attempt to keep him warm. He was born pale, like his father, but with a soft layer of hair that made you wonder how much he might grow to look like you. The midwife had said it before she slipped out, and you had to agree—he was beautiful, and you smiled down at him.

A thud startled you and you turned to see that Feyd-Rautha had fallen to his knees at your bedside, looking at you with a reverence you had never seen in anyone before.

“Feyd?” You asked.

He looked between you and your son, and you saw then that something had changed within him over those many months. Gone was the dismissive, uncaring husband you had wed; this Feyd-Rautha had grown to become a protector, one who would fight until his muscles tore from his bones, who would bleed himself dry for you.

“You are stronger than I knew,” he murmured, brushing a thumb over your cheek much the way you had with him all those nights ago.

You felt a lump in your throat. “Come here. Join us.”

He did.

Feyd-Rautha sat with you there, in your bed, the very bed your first child was born in. He watched as your son woke from his peaceful, short nap, and he was privy to the private, intimate moment of his first feeding. He held the baby, staring at him in wonder and what may have been a touch of fear, supporting the both of you as he helped you to the bathing room when you were well enough to stand.

“A son,” he said, watching the baby sleep that night.

“Yes.” You mumbled, exhausted and nearly asleep as well. “Are you pleased, husband?”

“I would have been just as pleased with a daughter.”

That surprised you, and you glanced over your shoulder to see him propped up on an elbow, watching your son as he slept in his simple Harkonnen manger. “Really?”

“Yes,” he said, never once taking his eyes off the child. “I can teach a daughter to fight just as well.” Finally, he looked down at you. “Are you well?”

“As well as can be expected.” You sighed.

“Are you happy?”

“Yes, I am,” you answered him, sleep already dragging you down.

You barely felt his lips as he pressed a kiss to your temple, and you barely heard his voice as he said,

“I am as well.”

-0-

You had expected Feyd-Rautha to grow cold in the weeks following your son’s birth, but he never had. He was attentive, caring for you in a way that suggested he felt some primal urge to drag back great beasts for dinner every night but modern living prohibited that.

Now, you watched as he stood before one of the massive windows within the Harkonnen palace. It was evening on Giedi Prime, but the black sun casted no shadows over the landscape. Feyd-Rautha held your son, whispering to him, and as you watched, you wished the moment could stretch on forever.

“Husband,” you said, approaching him.

“Wife,” he greeted you, turning.

“On your evening walk together, I see.”

He chuckled. “I am showing him everything he will one day rule over.”

“I am surprised you haven’t taken him into battle with you yet,” you said sarcastically.

“I will strap him to my chest so that he might taste the blood of House Atreides,” he said with a grin.

“The youngest Harkonnen warrior the world has ever seen.” You smiled, leaning in to check on what appeared to be a perfectly happy, albeit possibile bloodthirsty, baby.

“What are you doing walking alone?” Feyd-Rautha asked.

“Looking for you.”

“And now that you have found me, what do you intend to do?”

You leaned into your husband, resting your head on his shoulder. “Drop the baby off with the wet nurse, seduce you, take you to bed and then have my way with you.”

“You have my attention.”

“I thought you might be interested in trying for a girl this time…”

In a blink, he had spun you around and was dragging you down the corridor, and once the baby was safely tucked in with a nursemaid watching over him, you did indeed have your way with your husband. And again. And again. And you realized, as you retired to bed that night, that you were truly glad to have been arranged to marry Feyd-Rautha, heir to the Harkonnen throne and father of your children.

#feyd rautha x reader #feyd x reader #TW pregnancy #TW labor and delivery #dune x reader

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prettycottagequeer · 6 months

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ok maybe I'm a little late to this BUT I'm gonna do a to-do list motivation thingy because I've had the worst two weeks since I started college :)

SO these I should start on asap:

50 I make the snack I really want but I haven't had the motivation to make

100 I clean my dorm. another thing I've been meaning to do for a week

150 I do the presentation about mid-victorian fashion I've been putting off (due Monday)

200 I start memorizing the monologue that was due a week ago (now due Tuesday)

these can wait longer:

300 I spend time outside. It's so nice but I'm getting stuck scrolling because I feel like shit. vicious cycle ect

500 I start setting a better weekend routine (aka getting up before noon)

1k I start working out again. I was doing a routine to get more masc and build muscle and I liked it but life hit me like Crowley driving the Bentley and I've missed like 3 weeks

2k I buy my first binder. I've been coping with sports bras for almost a year now and I haven't been able to justify spending $50+ on a binder even though I know I'd love it and use it everyday.

Do I tag people? I don't know but I'm going to. @the-globe-theatre-maggot @weirdly-specific-but-ok @howmanyholesinswisscheese

here's just some context if you want to read, feel free to skip. some of this I've talked about in the maggot server, some I haven't, but I really just need a place for this to go that's out of my head. tw homophobia, transphobia, car crash(??)

How I Have Been Run Over By The Bentley Going 90 In Central London What Feels Like 50 Times In The Last Two Weeks

I'm going to college about 4 hours away from my parents, and it's been really nice. They.. suck, to say the least. transphobic/homophobic ect, super traditional conservative catholic, racist, all of it. so i tried to move somewhere where I wouldn't have to think about them and I could be myself and do what I can to be happy. March 1st was the start of my spring break, which meant going home because the dorms close. I was already not excited, but I was prepared. the problem with being away from home is I forget just how bad they are. My optimism gets the better of me and I think maybe this time they'll be better. so I decided to not hide my septum piercing.

that was a mistake. it starts a whole fight where they say we know you're trans, you're actually a girl and you always will be, we have the bones argument, they think I'm being influenced by demons or something (if only they knew about crowley) because I want to change my name, and they tell me that going on t will completely ruin my body and give me cancer and other things. They're also mad about my dyed hair, septum, and general style, and say I'm setting a terrible example for my (5) younger siblings and make it a point to tell me just how much of a disappointment I am. I think I'm pretty cute and fun but y'know, whatever. very fun time. I lie so much, don't give them any more details about my identity, and say I'm not planning to go on t to save my ass. which is all on instinct which makes me feel worse because if I'm really trans I should be able to stand up for that, right? maybe I'm faking the dysphoria.

the next morning I wake up really sick, and spend the rest of the week sick and feeling like shit because I'm home and back in the same place and situation I was a year ago that I thought I escaped. at one point I pretty much lose my voice but also kind of get gender euphoria from it. it's weird.

On Friday it's time for me to drive back 4 hours to school, and I make it about 3/4 of the way when google maps takes me on a random gravel road and I crash my car, really crash my car, like sideways-in-a-ditch-windows-broken-crawling-up-out-the-door crash it in the middle of nowhere. (I was fully paying attention to the road, it was raining and super slick) I call my parents because I have no one else to call and I sit in a Subway for 3 hours while they drive to get my car. when they get there they're (understandably) really mad, and they tell me that I'm not mature enough to be going to school so far away and I need to get my shit together and stop depending on them. which. is probably true. but made me feel even more stupid about the fact that I crashed my car. I get back to school and I'm still Very Sick with no energy or motivation to do anything. So I've spent the last week trying to get better and honestly to do anything. it hasn't really worked. I'm a lot better health-wise (Not emotionally), still sick but I have a lot of work due, so I really need a push to get started

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ellieslittleburrow · 16 days

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Staining the Winchester car

Summary : You accidently stain John Winchester's car. How's he going to react to that?

Pairings : John Winchester x Daughter!reader

Warnings : mensturation

A/N : Sorry if this isn't how you'd imagined things, yall. I'd personally die if this happened to me so i wanted to do something that's kind of in between.

------

The roads are especially slippery when rain threatened to fall, clouds dominate the skies and paint a bluiesh hue over the landscape.

To some, such times are gloomy and sad but that's not the case for your dad, he always hums to any song that plays on the radio, like the one that's playing now. As he pulls up to the marketplace, you unbuckle your seatbelt and ready yourself to leave.

"Kid, why are you in such a hurry." He chuckles and you just giggle, as you get up. But a sudden tug yanks your shirt downwards, sending you bumping into your father and nearly crashing into the gearbox.

"Uh" You turn around, an accusatory expression etched across your face when you notice the features on your father's. Avoidant eyes, resting eyebrows.

"What?" Your tone is wary. And when your father coughs uncomfortably, your irritation becomes more evident. You want to understand. "Whaat?!!" You whine.

Your father blows a sigh and- "The seat...Your pants are stained...The seat-"

No...

Your fingers slid smoothly over the wetness of the seat, causing your eyes to widen and panic to course through you, followed by shame.

"I-" You stammered ,shifting around , unsure of- "Dad,i'm so sorry-i'm so-so embrrassed i'm so sosrry-fuck-the car."

John Winchester cared way too much about his stupid car, and you just stained it. He'd probably extremely f-

"It's okay- kid hey-"

He doesn't mean that- he fights Dean if the boy leaves a single tissue around.

"No-Dad- i'M sorry-I really am-I"

Liar. Although he sounded thruthfull, you knew that he was lying. He'd kill Dean if the man left a tissue in the car-

"Calm. Down."

"No-I swear-I-"

"HEY-Calm. Down."

His sudden change of tone snaps you out of your panic, forcing you to go quiet. Nonetheless, you turn your back to him and glue your fingers to your lips while resting your chin over your thumb. You're in pure disbelief.

"It's okay." John rubs your back. "It's nothing, kid. I'm not mad at you. Fuck this car. Please calm the hell down."

You sigh, darting your eyes around. you'd apologize again but...

"Here." He places his jacket over your shoulders. "wear this-it will probably cover your jeans well enough. I'll meet you in the room."

---

With your back to the door, you lay on your bed, replaying the moments as if your whole world just collapsed.

"Y/n. Stop it. It's nothing. You're a woman and women go through menstrual cycles and... accidents happen...and--"

"Dad, shut up." You turn to face him. "I can tell you're forcing the words out of your mouth." A dry chuckle leaves your lips and you return back to your initial position, still red-faced.

"Well if you can tell so many things, you can tell that i'm being serious and that i'm not mad or anything. Plus, i got you snacks."

You roll your eyes, turning again. "Like that's going to make things better?" Your eyes shift towards the bag he still held in his hand and raise your eyebrows in an exaggerated manner. "And you think i'm gonna eat all that?"

Your dad shrugs. "You might not but at least it'll distract you enough. Relax, kid, okay?"

-----

@that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @marvelfanfn2187a113

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So sorry for the tardy post :c i get way too anxious sometimes and just become unable to write/edit. Sorry agaiiin ❤❤❤🥀🥀🥀

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dwobbitfromtheshire · 1 year

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Eddie and Steve slept together for the first time before Eddie left to travel with his band. Was it a weird time to start a relationship? Sure, but Eddie was just glad it happened at all. He called from the road as often as he could. It was a few weeks later that Eddie received a phone call from Steve. He had sounded off, so Eddie dropped everything and started heading back to Hawkins. He decided to surprise Steve with his favorite flowers.

Eddie crept into the house carefully, tip toeing, so he didn't make a sound. He heard voices coming from the living room. It sounded like Robin. Eddie grinned and crept closer, making sure he stayed hidden. Their conversation prevented him from jumping out.

"Okay, we're really going to do this," Steve said with a sigh. "Yeah, I'm pregnant. I got knocked up by Eddie."

"I knew it!" Robin said with a dramatic grasp. "I just want you to know that I'm not mad that you've made me a godmother at such a young age. I'm here for you. So, like what are you going to do?"

"I'm keeping the baby. I just don't know how I'm going to tell Eddie," Steve said. "He's been having such a fun time traveling with his band. I don't want to railroad that."

"Wait. . .you're serious," Robin said. "Um, okay, well, Eddie loves you, so I know for a fact that it wouldn't kill him that you're having his baby."

Eddie's eyes widened, and he crept out of the house. He ran towards his van and drove off, missing the other half of the conversation.

"I'm not fucking pregnant, Robin!" Steve yelled. "It's food poisoning."

"So, it's just a coincidence that you're getting sick a few weeks after having sex with Eddie?" Robin asked, narrowing her eyes. "Especially knowing how much you want to have kids."

"So, you think that I just willed it into existence?" Steve asked and then paused. "You know, my menstrual cycle was a little late this month."

"Really?!"

"No! I don't have a menstrual cycle, Robin!"

". . .is it because you're pregnant?"

"Robin!"

"Don't be so hormonal, Steven."

Meanwhile, Eddie had pulled off to the side of the road. He was freaking out, and it had nothing at all to do with the fact that he had driven all night, so he wasn't thinking straight. Steve was pregnant. Steve was having his baby. How in the fuck did this happen? The only way this could have happened would be because of the bat bites. They changed them, and now they could get pregnant. Oh God, does this mean that Eddie would have to start taking birth control?

"Focus, Munson," Eddie said and slapped his face. "This isn't about you. This is about Steve."

He drove off to the store and thought about the fact that he was going to be a dad. He smiled at the image of himself laying his head on Steve’s big belly and then of them holding their baby. Eddie hollered as he skipped into the store and went to the counter.

"Give me your biggest fucking bear," Eddie said with a grin.

"Uh, celebrating, sir?" The clerk asked.

"I'm going to be a daddy!" Eddie exclaimed.

"Congratulations, sir."

As he started walking out with his purchase, Dustin's head popped out from the aisle.

"Eddie?!"

Eddie strolled into Steve’s house, the bear in his arms.

"Honey, I'm home!" Eddie exclaimed, bursting into the living room.

"Eddie?!"

Steve grinned in surprise. He was laid on the couch, curled up under a blanket, while Robin sat in the recliner next to him.

"You sounded off on the phone, so I drove all night to come and see you," Eddie said, dropping to the floor next to him. "I'm yours now and forever."

"Aww," Robin said.

"You sound like you're proposing," Steve sniffled. "Is that bear for me?"

"If you want me to propose, but I'd want us to get married for the right reasons, you know, not just because I knocked you up," Eddie said.

"Wait. What?" Steve asked.

"I know, sweetheart. I overheard you when I came in here earlier, and I want you to know that I so want to be involved," Eddie said.

"I told you that I heard someone!" Steve exclaimed, sitting up. "Eddie, you heard half of that conversation. Did you miss the part where I told Robin I am not pregnant?"

"I am so tired," Eddie whined. "And I thought the bats. . ."

"Gave you guys babies instead of rabies?" Robin asked, and Eddie nodded.

"Shit, you did say you drove all night," Steve said. "Baby, get up here."

Eddie climbed on the couch behind him, dropping the bear, and buried his face into the pillow.

"Are you sure you're not pregnant?" Eddie asked sleepily.

"Do I need to take a fucking pregnancy test?" Steve asked, mostly to himself.

"It wouldn't hurt," Robin said.

Steve flipped her off as Eddie's snores drifted through the air. He laid down next to him and threw the blanket over the blanket over them.

"Robin. . .," Steve said slowly. "Are you being this way because you're obsessed with the Godfather, and you want to be the Godmother?"

". . .No."

Steve did not believe her.

Part two

#stranger things #eddie munson #stranger things s4 #joseph quinn #eddie stranger things #eddie munson lives #steve harrington #steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie fanfiction #steddie ficlet #steddie crack fic #just a bit of a crack fic #robin buckley #robin & steve #platonic soulmates #platonic with a capital p

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jeansplaytoy · 1 year

Text

“Ain’t shit.” - c.springer

(part four here.) (part six here.)

part 5

when this might be you and connie’s last conversation, you couldn’t care less about an argument.

violence, mentions of medium blood/bleeding, arguments, language.

it was another friday, a week after you made up with connie.

but coming to your senses, you realized he did admit to cheating on you, which didn’t end well for him because you were now in his car calmly telling him how much of a bitch he was for even thinking about doing that and how “you shouldn’t even have admitted to that shit cus that just pissed me off the moment i heard it.”

“mm-hmm.” connie hummed, nodding slowly.

the whole floch thing had ended, and you forgave each other. but the whole cheating thing just caught you off guard as you thought about it.

a whole week later.

“and who was the bitch? cus i know damn well she wasn’t better than me.” you raised your eyebrows and pointed to yourself while looking at him.

connie shook his head. “nah, she wasn’t.”

“i know. cus you piss me off. how you gon get mad at me for putting yo dumbass out and you was the one lyin to my motha’ fuckin face.” you spoke to him in such a calm voice, but he sucked in air through his teeth with every harsh shot you threw at him.

“peach-“

“matter fact, i don’t even know why i’m in yo damn car when i could’ve brought my own shit. i don’t know why you wanted to pick me up.” you cut him off, completely ignoring that dumb nickname he gave you.

“y/n-“

“and then you had the nerve to blame me for all the shit i did when it wasn’t even as bad at what you did? shit, i must’ve been in my feelings when you admitted that shit cus i would’ve punched you in yo shit.” you looked at him with a frown. “see this exactly why ion listen to yo ass because you be having me forgive you for that dumb shit, nigga i should run this car off the road.” you nudged his shoulder a little.

“y-“

“and then i was dumb enough to keep you at my house? boy fuck you— i should whoop yo ass in this fuckin’ car. but i can’t mess up my nails again.” you mumbled the last part while looking at your nails that he paid for.

“you done?” connie asked after a long amount of silence. you nodded and looked out the door.

he looked at you and then at the road before softly inhaling to say something.

of course he couldn’t.

“and i fuckin hate you. we never getting back together. ever. we ain’t even together right now. i don’t even know why i’m wasting my time wit’cho ass, knowing you prolly gon do the same shit again.” you nudged his head to the side while staring at him with a pissed face.

connie sighed. “are you done?”

“yes.” you said quietly.

“so we really not getting back together?” he asked, glancing at you from the road. you raised your eyebrow and looked at him again.

“fuck. no.” you said in almost a whisper.

all he did was nod before parking his car somewhere near the house before turning it off. as he got out, you stayed in the car, giving him a mean look as he walked around the car to open your door and close it behind you.

“i gotta open the door for you too?” he mumbled with a small smile. you gave him another mean mug and fully ignored him while walking on the concrete up to the entrance.

connie only followed closely behind you, looking around at all the people that looked at you two — like they always did — because of the way you argued last week and was walking together this week.

it could’ve been a never ending cycle. if you were dumb. but you couldn’t even forgive the dude for what he did it you.

as you opened the door for yourself, you walked in, and just like last time, everything filled your ears and nose. “aye ima go wit the gang. don’t get in no trouble.” connie poked your back before walking off somewhere else. you stared at him before humming and rolling your eyes.

you’ve never even been to whoever’s house this was, but it was more spacious for a party.

you went to the kitchen, again, getting compliments on your outfit along the way.

you rubbed your glossed and lined lips together before pouring yourself a drink, taking a long sip before swallowing the whole bit, sucking the bitter flavor off your own tongue. looking around to find sasha or mikasa, or anyone other than one of the guys in that case, you couldn’t find them.

so you just decided to walk over to where connie was, in hopes of finding someone other than him, and to your surprise, everyone was there.

“girl where you been?” mikasa smiled looking you up and down. you smacked your lips. “ain’t nobody tell me the whole group was over here.” you said before glancing at connie who was already smoking weed. “my bad.” he said before exhaling.

you looked around for any source of alcohol, just to get your mind off of the normal things. but the only cup around you was connie’s. you looked at him before leaning down to get it and stared at him as you used his t-shirt to rub the rim of it before drinking the whole thing.

“so y’all back together? again?” eren raised his eyebrow as his arm rested around mikasa. connie shook his head. “nah. we cool off each other. just hanging around each other.” he mumbled before taking another swift hit of the blunt in his hand, already looking high as hell before sitting the rest on the ashtray and reaching towards the cup you had, looking at you when he saw it was empty. “thirsty ass.” he mumbled, grabbing another bottle to fill the cup.

“so y’all just chillin for now.” ony said, rolling up another blunt. you nodded slowly. “for good.” you corrected him.

“yall ain’t getting back together? crazy.” sasha chuckled at you. you shook your head. “i can’t get back wit his ass.” you mumbled to yourself, but loud enough for connie to hear. “man you look like friends sitting over there. like when yall asses first met.” ony laughed at you.

“suck my dick.” connie smiled a little before taking a sip from his cup.

“aye bro, ain’t that floch?” eren frowned, pointing behind you and connie. connie didn’t even try to look back, and when you did, he looked at you and then ony. ony widened his eyes a little before resting them again.

“you ain’t gon fight him again, right?” sasha squinted at connie. “cus if you do ima whoop yo ass.”

connie smacked his lips. “i ain worried bout him.” he mumbled. “i already beat his ass, as long as he don’t come over here fuckin wit nobody, i’m straight.” he held his hands up in defense with a light smile.

everyone but you looked at him suspiciously. you were too focused on the way floch glanced at you.

‘don’t bring yo ass over here.’ you thought to yourself. but it was too late because as soon as he saw you, he was.

you sighed. “fuck.” you muttered lowly to yourself before scooting closer to connie, who looked at you. “you good?” he asked. you nodded. “mhm.”

you tried to see if anybody else noticed the fact that he was literally walking over to you, and of course they didn’t. you felt someone touch your shoulder. “y/nnn, long time no see. it’s been what, a week?” floch said, leaning towards you.

everyone went silent and looked at connie, who licked his lips and stretched his legs out, taking a deep breath in and out.

“didn’t you just get yo ass beat by connie? so what the fuck you doin over here?” mikasa squinted at floch. “did i? oh, ion remember that.” floch mumbled before moving around the couch and sitting right beside you, gaining stares from ony and eren.

as much as you wanted to get disrespectful, you didn’t wanna get that nigga jumped, so you kept your composure and bit your lip, looking at the ground as he wrapped his arm around your waist, moving you slightly closer to him.

connie’s eyes moved to floch’s hand, before he side eyed you and looked forward again, grabbing his drink and taking a sip.

“aye, you don’t see she uncomfortable?” ony frowned, dabbing his blunt with his tongue while staring at floch. “she ain’t say she was uncomfortable, did she?” floch pursed his lips together. your hands rested underneath your thighs and you deeply inhaled.

“why you acting so different from last week? you just wanted me all up on you.” floch mumbled, loud enough to make sure connie heard, and he did, manspreading and grabbing his phone, scrolling through instagram.

“that wasn’t for real. i was tryna make somebody jealous.” you laughed a little.

“mh. it did work, didn’t it?” he said, keeping his eyes on you, taking one quick glance at connie who kept his eyes on his phone.

“ion know.” you shrugged while looking around the crowded house. “you know you ain’t always gotta stay wit the same person. i could give you sum better.” he said, moving his free hand to your thigh. you smacked your lips. “man get away from me, i don’t want yo ass.” you pushed him off of you.

that’s all it took for ony to put his blunt down, eren to start laughing, and connie to put his phone down, exhaling.

“c’mere.” connie grabbed your hand, leading you to the other side of him. before you could sit down, floch grabbed your wrist. “nah she good over here.” he said, pulling you towards him. connie finally looked at floch before chuckling.

“didn’t she just tell you to get away from her?” connie squinted. floch stood up. “you still got a problem huh.”

connie bit his lip before standing up along with floch. “ight chill con’.” sasha said, looking at him and floch.

“nah cus you wanna get’cho ass beat again so ion know why the fuck you still testing me.” connie pulled his pants up, pushing you back a little. “connie don’t even worry bout it-“ you tried to stop him, but it seemed like this time he was more mad than annoyed.

“you tryna start wit me bout a female that don’t even want yo ass, connie.” floch laughed and squinted.

“ight, but it’s still war over her ass when it come to me.” connie bit his lip, while raising his eyebrows.

“war, huh? you ain’t so shit yet tho.” floch muttered.

“listen, i ain wit allat talkin shit cus i’ll hit’cho ass right now.” connie chucked a little, reaching and resting his hand under his shirt. “connie, for real, just go outside.” eren said, sitting up.

“nah if he wanna do sum he can do sum.” floch raised his eyebrows.

“oh i can?”

“hell yeah you can, so wassup?”

suddenly you saw connie quickly reach in his waist band and you heard a gunshot, jumping and flinching.

everyone started to scream.

you looked down to see that floch was holding his thigh, panting as he looked up at connie with a frown. “what the fuck?!” he yelled before connie tucked his gun in his waistband and pulled his tshirt down, grabbing you by the arm and dragging you outside.

“what the fuck is wrong wit’cho ass?” you frowned, trying to release his grip from your wrist, but he was far more strong than you. suddenly, connie was grabbed by someone else. one of floch’s lil friends.

“you think you finna get away wit that shit?” he frowned and pointed backwards. “fuck away from me.” connie mumbled, pushing the guy. the guy pushed him back, but before he could even throw a punch, you reached in connie’s pants, grabbing his gun and pointing it at the dude.

“get the fuck back, before you get shot too.” you mumbled, finger itching to pull the trigger.

“and connie, get the fuck back. go.” you waved the gun back.

boom.

everyone paused, it’s like the screams that got louder, blurred out and everything was moving in slow motion. you looked at connie.

blood soaking the side of his waist.

you looked behind the guy in front of you, seeing floch. “the fuck? what the fuck?!” you panicked, looking at connie.

that’s when eren and ony rushed out of the house, guns in their hands too.

“shit…” you whispered.

last comments left me a lil astonished, cs that’s how y’all feel? jk hope you like this. :)

#aot x reader #aot x y/n #connie springer #connie x reader #poc reader #aot connie #connie x black y/n #connie x black reader #connie springer x y/n #connie springer x reader #connie springer x black reader #connie x you #connie x y/n #connie aot

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writers-hes · 2 years

Text

“get out.” (s. harrington x reader) - new version

Steve tells you to get out of the car because of a disagreement over things you both could never control. (asshole!steve, best friend!eddie, a bit of stancy, lots of angst)

old version can be found here. helpful links: navigation | master lists | rules and guidelines | tag list | fic recs

“It’s the same fucking thing all the time with you,” you complained. You didn’t know how you landed yourself in this again. When you agreed to date Steve for the first time many months ago, he promised that you had nothing to worry about; that he was loyal to you and that you will both work on communication. It was something that you both agreed on, seeing as you both came out of traumatic relationships that you both knew would shape your future in the long run. It’s always the same conversations; him and Nancy, you not getting that he can’t just let go of Nancy, him being jealous of your friendships with basically everyone else. It was tiring, an unending cycle of not understanding each other; never willing to do anything to manageable problems.

“And it’s the same shit with you. You’re always fucking—complaining about things that I can’t control,” he replied, frustration in his voice. He was mad and he was seeing red. Why couldn’t you understand that letting go wasn’t that easy? Him and Nancy shared a bond from the trauma that hit their lives in their younger years. He was speeding in a residential area, swerving away from the trash bin that he almost hit. “Fuck!”

“Steve!” you screeched, a hand on your chest. “Please, keep your eyes on the road,” You’ve never seen him so mad before. Tears welled up in your eyes but you looked away, wiping them and telling yourself to stop because this wasn't your fault. None of it was your fault so why do you feel guilty?

It was just some party, some stupid party that you both agreed to go to. Well, Steve wanted to go because his friends will be there. Robin, Eddie, and Nancy. She didn’t do anything. She was still all smiles when she saw you, excited to spend time with her friends. God knows she needed one. Jonathan had been so dodgy since he left for California and Steve was there. Steve was always there for her. Even in Phil Newton’s bedroom.

You were sitting on the couch of Phil’s house, a lukewarm punch on the coffee table. When you arrived at the party you didn’t even want to go to, Steve was with you for a while. His arm hung lazily around your shoulders, taking a swig of some cola he found in the fridge. You were talking with his friends when Eddie arrived. You dragged Steve with you there, to where Eddie was, his arm snaking your waist to tug you in closer while you laughed at some scam Eddie had done.

“I sold her a gram and she paid for two,” he snickered. “Drunkards are where it’s at, believe me,”

Soon, Nancy and Robin arrived, a visible rain cloud on Nancy’s head. You excused yourself to ask if she was alright and she told you about Jonathan never calling her back. You comforted her for a while before slipping away to get some punch. When you came back, Steve and Nancy were gone.

You didn’t mind at first, looking for Eddie until you saw him in the middle of dealing. Robin was talking to a girl named Vickie. You walked aimlessly inside the party, skipping your step due to the slight intoxication until you settled yourself on the curb right outside Phil’s house. Everybody seemed to be having fun; everybody but you. Robin joins you afterwards with a small smile.

“Hey,”

“Hi, Robin,” you greeted, showing her your cup of punch before taking a swig. “This punch is shit,” you scrunch your nose and Robin smiled wider, taking the punch from you to drink all of it.

“Red wine, soda, and vodka,” she replied. “Why are you here by yourself? Where’s Eddie?”

“Where’s Steve?” you spit. “I didn’t want to come here, you know. Steve dragged me because you guys would be here.”

Robin looks at you with a guilty expression.

“Just want to go home,” you yawned. “and sleep.”

Robin sighs.

“He’s upstairs with Nancy. In Phil’s bedroom.”

“Who?”

“Steve.” she replied and your throat constricts, that ache making you swallow thickly. “Sorry. Please, don’t tell him I told you.”

God, it filled you with dread. Worst case scenario—Nancy and Steve were fucking after professing that they still have feelings for each other. But still, Steve promised. Right? He said that you would never get in between him and Nancy because there was nothing there anymore. He kissed you in your car after that. It was the thread you were holding onto. You left Robin with a quick “thanks” before going up the stairs. You hated how crowded the house had been. You didn’t even know which of these rooms were Phil’s until some drunk guy said he saw Steve with a girl in that room. You knocked, bracing yourself for the worst. What if he was naked in bed with Nancy Wheeler? What would you do if he opens the door with swollen lips and Nancy’s lipstick smeared all over?

Steve opens the door and looks at you with guilt. You looked so dishevelled but Steve couldn’t leave her yet. He suddenly felt irritated at Robin who just couldn’t keep her mouth shut. He needed to talk to her about it. She needed to keep you for a few more minutes because Jonathan isn’t coming back to Hawkins for the break.

“What?” he asked, his voice tight. Your face falls while Steve maintains a defensive stance. You were taken aback by his snarkiness. His hands were on his hips and he’s not even opening the door for more than an inch. Bad thoughts filled your head. Here we go again.

“I, is everything okay?”

“Yeah. Do you need anything?”

“Can we go home?” you asked. You hated tonight. You didn’t want to go here at all. You just wanted to stay at home, cook dinner, and have a peaceful night with Steve for once.

“Sure. Here, take the keys. Go start the car and I’ll be down in ten minutes,” he replied, giving you the key before closing the door again.

You stood there, dumbfounded before stomping your way to his car. You would’ve left but you didn’t know where you were. Phil lived in the outskirts of Hawkins and Steve was supposed to be your ride. You slammed the door of Steve’s BMW when Eddie came by.

“I can hear you stomping from the pool,” Eddie teased, leaning on the passenger window. “What’s wrong?”

“Steve is wrong,” you frowned. “He dragged me all the way here and ditched me as soon as he found Nancy. They’re upstairs,”

“Damn,” Eddie replied. Even he couldn’t provide comforting words. “Well, you’re with me. Super cool, super nice me,”

“Didn’t you sell me double the price when we first met? The same thing you did to that girl you were talking about earlier,” you asked. True but it was an old gag that you shared with him. It didn’t matter anymore. “I still haven’t received my rebates,”

“I give you enough free stuff, sweets. I should be the one getting rebates. I’m thinking of milkshakes,” he said, eyes widening. “I could just taste it! Oh, chocolate milkshake and because you’re so nice, burgers. I’ll pick you up tomorrow,”

“Eddie! I didn’t agree—“

“Yeah, yeah but you owe me.” he replied. “Also, did you know? I went to Lover's Lake the other day, right? Guess who I saw fucking in the woods. That cheerleader with blonde hair and that kid from English? The one that reads loudly to himself,”

“No way,”

“Yes, way. I saw them! With my own eyes!” he exclaimed, making you chuckle loudly. “Seriously, I had to douse my eyes with bleach and baking soda. It was that bad,”

Steve was frowning from behind Eddie. How come he always sees you at your happiest with him? You looked so miserable when you talked to him earlier and now that you’re with Eddie you’re fucking laughing? Steve watched your smile fade away as he neared, his frown deepening. Eddie looked back, and whistled. “Hey, Steve,”

“Munson,” Steve replied. “Girlfriend and I are leaving,”

“Oh, yeah. See you around,” Eddie replied, nodding. He looks at you and mouths “scary”, making you laugh and Eddie leaves, jogging back to the pool for business.

What happened tonight was how you found yourself in this situation, eyes and knees away from Steve, watching the dark trees blur at the speed of his car.

“Can’t control? I told you that your relationship with Nancy is bothering me and I find you alone in a room together?” you asked. “What does that make me? What should that make me feel?”

“It’s not like I can just say ‘Sorry, Nance. My girlfriend is so jealous of you, she doesn’t want us spending time together. Or should I?” Steve asked, venom dripping in his voice. “It’s the same shit with you and Eddie,”

“No, it isn’t. Eddie and I are friends. You weren’t there when everyone knows you were with Nancy in Phil’s fucking bedroom. Everyone except for me!” you replied, your voice raising in volume. “Same fucking shit, Steve. Same shit and I’m so tired of fighting.”

“You shouldn’t have come to the party, then,” he mutters and you pause, counting to ten to calm yourself down. Your heart was beating wildly and you could feel your frustration at the tipping point.

“It was you who wanted me there, remember? I didn’t want to attend that party but you dragged me. You ditched me the moment Nancy arrived. Do you remember? I don’t…I’m not even sure if I want to be in the same space with you right now.” you heaved, tears springing up your eyes. You wanted to get your point across but to Steve, he could only hear how you didn’t want to be with him. Slowing down some street, you looked at him in confusion. You just really wanted to go home.

“Get the fuck out,” he mutters, looking at anything but you.

“Wh-what?”

“Get the fuck out,” he repeated. “You don’t want to be with me right? So get out.”

You stilled, looking at your surroundings. There was nothing but harrowing trees and a lone light. You nodded, rushing out of the door and watching as Steve sped away from you. When he was far enough, you let your shoulders deflate and sobbed. Where did it all go wrong? Steve was never like this with anyone. Why did he…dislike you so much? You walked back to the party, trying to remember the way.

It was so dark and Steve knew how much you hated walking in it. You didn’t know where you were and Steve knew how much you hated being lost. There were no sounds but the creek and the hooting of the owls and Steve knew how much you hated the silence.

Wrapping your arms to protect you from the darkness and the unknown, you walked fast. You were rushing back because you didn’t know where you were and you were scared; so fucking scared of the night. You’ve been walking for how many minutes now and you could’ve called but there were no payphones anywhere. It was just the occasional street lamp and nothing else. Would you even risk hitching a ride if a car passes by?

“Fuck!” you cried, sobbing uncontrollably when your arm hung itself on some stray wire by the abandoned bus stop. The sting rips through your whole body and you were so sure that your arm was bleeding badly but you forged on, limping until the trees looked somewhat familiar.

Soon, you followed the loud bass of the speakers. Kids your age spilled out of the house and you followed from where they came from. The party. You were back from where you started. You shuddered, hoping to God that Eddie was there. Or maybe Robin. Fuck, Nancy, if she was the last resort. You just really wanted to go home.

It was Robin and Eddie who found you by the door. Apparently, there was some chick with a bleeding arm sitting by the pool who was crying to herself. Descriptions matched what you wore that night and how you looked; there was no other choice than to rush to you. Sure enough, when they ran to the pool, you were there sitting by the edge. Black tears ran down your face, a scowl settled on your lips as you shielded yourself away from the world. Robin noticed the red on your arm, rushing towards your hunched figure.

Eddie was hot on her tails, hiding you under his arms to quiet you down. He drapes his sweater over your shivering figure. Without a word, they led you to Eddie’s van; what should be said anyway? Isn’t it enough? Your friends looked at each other while your body shook with sadness and frustration.

“S-sorry,” you managed, and you felt Eddie’s grip on your shoulder tighten.

“It’s okay,” Robin replied, opening the door for you. You curled into her when they were settled, Eddie starting his van to drive you back home.

“What happened?” Robin asked. Eddie’s eyes snapped towards you and she was about to say sorry when you replied.

“Steve told me to get out of his car in the middle of nowhere and left me,” you managed between sobs. Their hearts broke, a frown etching his features. You looked so small and forlorn; so defeated and empty. “I just wanted to go home. I don’t even want to anymore because he might be there.”

“It’s okay. We can go back to the trailer. You can share the bed with Robin and I’ll sleep on the couch.” Eddie assured before driving to the trailer park with a crying girl in the passenger seat.

AN: Thank you so much for your love on my get out fic! I’d love for you to reblog and comment on what you think about the newest version! Can we maaaaaaybe add 100+ notes? Part two is done and is coming very, very soon. I promise.

steve harrington taglist: @thatfantagirl @cherris-n-peaches @Miyababbby @munsonsuccubus @moistmocca @munsonology @aol19 @undeadgirlsworld @eddiethesexy @weaslyslut01 @captainweirdo42 get out new version taglist: @sgrantsgf @angstlover222 @madiisixx @omgvirtualcupcakecollection-blog @tiny-bird-of-sunshine @logibearhockey1 @echoautumn @shelbycillian @jadewatling22 @stargir66 @marmalaidee-blog @joworldsstuff @whisperingwillowxox @pariahsparadise @optimisticallygarbage @mosiwil @oddussy420 @heyyimmissunderstood @sierrahhh @cupcake-jj @loveisonlyforthebrave @thatfantagirl @loveisforonlythebrave

#steve harrington angst #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #angst #fanfic #fan fic #stranger things

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hesbuckcompton-baby · 6 months

Text

I'm Your Man - Robert 'Rosie' Rosenthal x OFC - Chapter 9

AO3

Warnings: Language

Word Count: 3.6k

Tags: @mads-weasley @xxluckystrike @curaheehee @footprintsinthesxnd @dcyllom @storysimp @latibvles @love-studying58

A/N: Sorry this chapter took a while! Please enjoy some filler fluff as a reward for your patience

The January cold was a biting, painful thing, with the uncanny ability to burrow its way deep beneath any clothing, regardless of the layers everyone at Thorpe Abbotts had desperately piled on for protection. Thick, wool socks and scarves were always in order, and a few of the elderly women in the village had begun to make a pretty penny by selling them on to disgruntled pilots who had never before experienced winter outside of California.

Major Kidd had given her Egan's sheepskin jacket. Well, he less gave it to her than he did leave it in the mechanics' hut for her, but she appreciated the gesture nevertheless. The sleeves were too long, but she made do, as it was loose enough on her to fit comfortably over her work overalls. Combined with the wool tights she'd stolen from George, and the fingerless gloves she'd found at the bottom of a drawer somewhere, the weather was almost bearable. Almost.

It had snowed overnight. There was too much ice on the roads to cycle without endangering life and limb, so Frankie had been forced to commandeer a phone and summon Lemmons in one of the jeeps. The man had looked so miserable upon his arrival, that it had been impossible not to laugh. Hat tugged down past his eyebrows, scarf pulled up over his chin, his face was only half visible, and what sliver she could see was contorted in a frown. His gloves were made of bright orange wool, and she suspected the women in the village had run out of the more appealing colours by the time he sought them out. Grinning to herself, she clambered into the jeep, stomping snow off of her boots as she sat down.

"I don't like this country anymore, Frankie," Ken complained, voice muffled by his scarf.

She laughed. "Oh, sweetheart, if you think this is bad..."

He was stricken with a look of complete and utter fear, and Frankie let out a snort. "It gets worse?"

"Probably!"

This information put him in a foul mood for the rest of the drive, muttering and grumbling to himself about 'goddamn snow' and 'goddamn ice' as they pulled up to the runway, tyres gouging fresh marks into the undisturbed blanket of white. They were both left sorely wishing they had finished their work the night before when the weather had been more palatable, but there was no getting around what they had to do now.

The metal of the planes' exteriors was frozen to the touch, bare fingertips left raw and red as they worked away at replacing and tightening various bolts and rivets, breath blooming in frozen clouds in front of their faces. Every five minutes they would have to step away from whatever they were doing and run a few laps around the place just to warm themselves up, aware of what a ridiculous sight they must have made.

"Think they'll go up again tomorrow?" Ken asked, panting as he jogged on the spot behind Frankie, occasionally pausing to throw in a few star jumps.

"Not if the weather doesn't clear up - they'll need better skies than this if the navigators want to get anywhere," She shrugged, pausing halfway through tightening another bolt to jump up and down, attempting to restore feeling to her legs.

"Everyone else is in bed right now," He complained.

"Lucky bastards."

The pair must have appeared entirely absurd, chatting away with stony, irritated expressions as they stomped and jumped around entirely out of synch, and they counted themselves lucky that there wasn't a single other soul out there that morning to bear witness. A lit cigarette hung from between Frankie's lips, the embers only just succeeding in warming her face. Their cheeks and noses had both turned red after only an hour out in the cold, and by the end of their second, neither could justify staying outside any longer.

Kicking the snow off their boots, they shut themselves in the mechanics' hut, the light that hung from the ceiling swaying in the drafty breeze - the result of a ceiling gap that they were unable to locate. Turning on the gas stove that was usually only used to make terrible coffee, the pair pulled up their chairs beside it, holding their frozen hands above the small flame until feeling returned to their fingers.

"I forgot to ask you about your Christmas," Frankie huffed, rubbing her palms together, creating heat from the friction.

"That was nearly a month ago," He pointed out.

"I know. Just felt a bit bad about not asking."

"It was good, yeah. Sammy's folks had a goose, I dunno where they got it from," Lemmons chuckled, pausing for a moment. When he spoke again, there was a glimmer of something in his eye. "How was your Christmas?"

She frowned at him. "I told you before. Good."

"...Mhm."

A sudden knock at the door took them both by surprise, heads snapping towards the unexpected sound. Brows furrowed, they glanced at one another, neither one wanting to get up from their spot beside the stove. "Door's open!" Ken called.

They could hear the sound of someone awkwardly fumbling with the door handle, and Frankie was about to get up when it finally opened. Rosie had to use his foot to pry his way inside, a steaming cup of Red Cross coffee in each hand as he shuffled through, flakes of snow still resting unmelted in his hair. His face was flushed pink, and he wasn't wearing anywhere near enough clothes to protect him from the cold, snow encrusting the soles of his boots.

"Hey!" Frankie beamed, pulling up another chair for him between her and Lemmons. "Jesus, were you trying to get hypothermia?"

"Brought coffee," He said simply, voice still slightly shaky as he sat down, holding the tin mugs out to the mechanics. "And uh-" Reaching into his pocket, Rosie produced a crumpled paper bag containing a couple of doughnuts. "Don't tell Helen. Was only supposed to take one."

"Gee, thanks, Cap," Lemmons nodded gratefully, shooting Frankie a pointed stare that she pretended not to have noticed. She nodded in agreement, both hands wrapped around her cup, feeling the heat seep through the metal. The Red Cross coffee always tasted so much better than the crap they had in the mechanics' hut, and she resisted the urge to grin at the gesture, especially as she realised he had brought nothing for himself.

They drank in silence for a while, the only sound the jagged, laboured breathing of one trying to wear off a chill. "...So, uh..." Rosie began, hands folded in his lap as he looked between the others. "...Work going well?"

"Y'know, I can go somewhere else if you guys want," Ken pointed out, peering at them over the rim of his mug.

"No!" "No!" Frankie and Rosie blurted simultaneously, assuring him hurriedly. "You need to keep warm, Ken," She told him.

He had slurped down his coffee quickly, the winter cold cooling it down so that it wouldn't burn his throat. Shaking his head, he pushed his chair backwards out of the little semi-circle they had created, scraping loudly across the floor. "The fuel cans we asked for arrived yesterday, I should go pick them up before I forget."

"You sure?" Frankie asked, getting up to trail after him as he made his way to the door. "The snow'll probably start melting soon, you should wait until it's not so icy."

"No, no. Now's good," Lemmons nodded determinedly, smirking at her as he opened the door, a gust of cold wind blowing its way inside. "Thanks again for the coffee, Rosie!"

"No problem, Ken," He nodded, tipping an imaginary cap at him as the mechanic disappeared outside.

Frankie paused a moment to process what had happened before letting out a huff of laughter. Rosie was still sat beside the stove, watching with a smile as she crossed the room towards him. She leant down, and he craned his head up to meet her, their lips meeting in a quick kiss, as casual and comfortable as a long-married couple.

"He definitely knows," She pointed out, lowering herself back into her seat and propping her legs up across his lap, his elbows resting gently on them.

"Oh yeah," Rosie nodded in agreement. "Have you properly told anyone yet? Only, I haven't - I was waiting until you wanted to."

"Oh, I've only told George, she won't tell anyone. But I tell her literally everything, so y'know."

"Yeah, yeah, I expected that," He continued nodding, pausing after a moment as a stricken look of realisation crossed his face. "Wait, does that mean you told her about when we-"

"No! No, not about that, Jesus," Frankie giggled, nose creasing as she took another sip of her coffee. A smile spread across Rosie's expression as he took a moment to actually take in her appearance, his thumb rubbing back and forth along the hem of her trousers.

"... Is that Egan's jacket?"

"Mhm," She hummed, wiping her top lip as she put down her mug. "Kidd left it for me. It doesn't fit-" Frankie flapped the ends of her sleeves to illustrate the point, making him chuckle. "-but the thought was nice."

"God, I absolutely humiliated myself the first time I met Egan," Rosie shook his head slightly, his cheeks reddening. "Kept talking about flying in my goddamn skivvies, I was pretty sure he only brought me to meet you so that you two could both laugh at the weird new Captain."

She laughed, taking one of his hands in hers, absent-mindedly twiddling his fingers as she spoke. "I'm sorry, you flew in your what?"

"Jesus, I'm doing it again, this is like a recurring nightmare. It gets real hot in Texas, right, so we practised flying in our underwear to stop us from over-heating - but of course I decided that was the best possible story to introduce myself to the Majors with. I mean, Christ, I still don't know what I was thinkin'."

"Well, the first time I met him I absolutely destroyed him in a drinking contest, so he's been offered his fair share of public humiliation."

"That... does help, actually," He admitted, and she grinned, running a hand through his hair and messing up his curls as she rose to her feet. His gaze followed her, tilting his head upwards, a few loose curls hanging in his face. "Where are you going?"

"Funny thing is, I actually have this thing called a job," Frankie teased, zipping up Egan's jacket as she headed for the door. "I have to, like, do it, and everything."

"Wow, that sounds really hard, I'm so impressed," Rosie replied flatly, a smirk curling his lip.

A gust of wind blew a cloud of snowflakes in through the door as she opened it, flipping her collar up to her chin against the breeze as she stepped outside. Lemmons was waiting there, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, and his unexpected presence startled her, snow crunching beneath her feet as she jumped, sucking in a sharp breath.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

Ken shrugged. "Thought I oughta give you a minute - didn't wanna interrupt anything private."

Frankie's eyes narrowed, glaring at him as they made their way back towards the hardstand. "Oh, shut up. You don't know what you're talking about."

"Can you seriously look me in the eyes and tell me I'm wrong?"

Turning on her heel, she stared at him, their gazes locked for a long, awkward moment of silence. She gnawed at her lip, saying nothing, until suddenly she broke, scoffing as she stomped away. "Fuck you, Ken."

"Told you!"

Before he could move, she had slung an arm around his neck, forcing him into a playful headlock. Lemmons squawked, wrestling against her unrelenting grip until he dug his fingers into her side, and she released him with a yelp, their hair both dusted white with snow.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It took three days for the weather to subside - three days of icy roads, relentless snowfall, and trying not to freeze on the hardstand. Every day like clockwork Rosie had brought the mechanics fresh, hot coffee, filling flasks with the stuff to satisfy more and more of the ground crews, who were growing steadily more irritable with each inch of snowfall. The pilots were grounded for the duration, but even the pub seemed too great of a trek under such circumstances. The only sanctuary was the small, cylindrical heaters inside the Nissen huts, and in the evenings many took to sitting around them to keep warm.

Early morning birdsong came as an unwelcome sound as Frankie's eyes peeled open, adjusting to consciousness as sunlight streamed in through the window above her bed. A gust of air hit her face as her bedsheets were ripped off of her, and she flinched as she waited for the sudden chill to grip her. But it didn't.

"George. What the fuck," She grumbled, pressing her palms against her eyelids as she sat up, hair knotted and sticking out at random angles on one side of her head.

"Get up. Snow's thawed, they'll be flying today."

The woman had a disturbing knack for always looking immaculate - golden hair falling in perfect curls, red lipstick that never smudged, and clothes that always fitted perfectly. George always told her that it was just that she put in the effort, but Frankie tended to suspect some sort of witchcraft.

"Well fuck me, in that case, why didn't you wake me up sooner?" She huffed, her hairbrush getting stuck halfway through a knotted patch. For a moment, she couldn't quite bear to deal with it, and just let it hang there, weighing down her scalp on one side.

"Thought you should get some beauty sleep before you see off your darling pilot," She teased, her voice taking on a sing-song quality. "Although admittedly, I wasn't expecting you to wake up looking like you'd been dragged sideways through a thornbush," George added, and Frankie let out a cry as she yanked on the hairbrush, dragging it forcefully through her hair until it fell straight.

"I'll drag you sideways through a bush in a minute," She muttered, rubbing at the sore spot on her scalp with one hand as she pulled on her coveralls with the other.

"I just think it took you long enough to finally snog him, you might as well try not to look like a dying cat whenever you see him."

"Oh, piss off!"

Huge meltwater puddles lined the roads on both sides, the grass reduced to muddy swampland, sodden with what remained of the snowfall. Frankie pedalled slowly, careful not to slip, calling out in greeting to the men who passed by in their jeeps, tyres kicking up water, spraying her legs and staining her trousers.

Her breaks screeched loudly to a halt as she stopped in front of a half-melted snowman on the side of the road, the last remaining evidence of the village children's play. Their laughter had filled the air since the first snowfall, the only remedy to the constant, freezing misery. The snowman's head was close to toppling off, its carrot nose drooping pathetically. She couldn't help but chuckle as one of the pebbles they had used for eyes slipped from its perch, landing with a thumb in the damp grass. She wondered if it had snowed back home, if Alice and Jill had made a snowman of their own. As a child, she'd used her mother's old scarf and gloves, the scent of perfume still lingering on them after so many years.

Another jeep rolled past, cutting it too close and too fast, a spray of puddle water splashing all the way up her back, the cold soaking through to her spine. Frankie let out a yelp, her train of thought lost as she flipped off the driver in his side mirror and began to pedal again, resuming her steady, cautious pace as the airstrip came into view.

The Riveters were gathered around their B-17 when she arrived, packs slung over their shoulders as they readied to board. Letting out a huge yawn, Frankie dismounted her bike, letting it lie on the tarmac as she approached, the uncomfortable stick of damp fabric against skin making her squirm. The moment Pappy saw her, he frowned. "D'you just get up? They've run the checks on our bus already, right?"

"Your plane's been ready to fly for days, Pap - I was out here in the snow making sure of it while you lot were warming your feet by the fire," She rolled her eyes, squeezing his shoulder as she passed.

Rosie was visibly fighting a grin as she approached, Bailey shooting him a confused look at his expression as he passed, clambering into the belly of the plane. One by one, the flight crew filed inside, hauling themselves up through the hatch in a series of grunts, until their Captain was the only one left standing on the tarmac. The moment they were alone, he let his smile show, a red tint flushing his cheeks. "Ma'am," He teased, tilting his cap at her as she approached.

Frankie smirked, stepping forward until their fronts were pressed together. "So... what number is this now?"

"Seventeenth mission," Rosie nodded.

"Hm. Not too shabby."

"Why thank you, dear," He grinned, leaning down to press his lips to hers. Just as Frankie began to reciprocate the kiss, a thought popped into his mind, and he pulled back, eliciting a tut of disappointment from her. "Y'know, I had this idea earlier that I'd bring you flowers, but it's too damn cold for 'em. Thought I'd let you know anyway, so you can appreciate the thought."

She hummed. "Duly noted," Grinning, she resumed the kiss, her teeth accidentally grazing his lip as she wrapped her arms around the back of his neck. Hands grasping at her back, his brow furrowed at the sudden dampness, but he figured she might send him away if he ruined the kiss again. He could smell the oil on her clothes, but the scent he had once found acrid now only succeeded in reminding him of her. Even miles up in the sky, hanging perilously over enemy territory, there was something calming in that smell, a constant tether to home.

The pair had been so engrossed in their embrace, that they had failed to notice Pappy reappearing through the hatch, sent to retrieve something they had forgotten in the jeep. But the moment his feet hit the tarmac, and he took in the scene before him, he froze, releasing a sort of strangled grunt that alerted them to his presence, springing away from each other, hands raised to wipe any evidence of the other from their mouths.

Wide-eyed in a mixture of shock and horror, he spoke in angry whispers, closing the hatch most of the way to muffle the sound. "Are you kidding me?!"

Rosie held up his hands as if begging for mercy. "Look, Pappy, I was gonna tell you, it's just-"

"I owe George so much money," Pappy huffed, running a hand across his brow.

Frankie frowned. "... You what?"

"We had drinks last week, we were betting on how long it'd take for... this to happen."

She resisted the urge to laugh, noticing how Rosie seemed to be suppressing a smile. "George already knew about this last week."

His expression was horror-stricken, face growing ever-redder with every second that passed. "... Are you fucking kidding me?!"

Rosie let out a chuckle. "I think you just got scammed, Pappy."

Brow furrowed, expression contorted in fury, Pappy muttered to himself in indecipherable fury as he marched over to the jeep, retrieved his forgotten cargo, and stomped back towards the plane, pausing briefly to interrupt his incensed murmuring. "Happy for you two. Or whatever," He sighed, waving a hand in their general direction as he failed to meet their eyes.

As soon as he was safely inside the plane and out of earshot, they collapsed into laughter, his utterly outraged frown seared into their minds. Rosie wheezed as he caught his breath, "I think George is using your friendship for evil," He pointed out, succumbing to laughter again as Frankie let out a cackle.

"I am not letting her collect on that debt," She shook her head, face flushed red, cheeks creased with a smile. Frankie looked up as she felt his hands against her face, palms cupping his cheeks as he brought her face to his, their foreheads simply resting against each other's as their breathing slowly returned to normal.

"I will see you later," He spoke softly, the tip of his nose brushing against hers.

"Yeah, you better," She reached up, straightening his tie. "I'll be really pissed off otherwise."

"And we can't have that."

"Nope."

With one last smile, Rosie pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose, and Frankie scoffed as he pulled away, wiping her face with the back of her hand. He smirked to himself as he climbed up into the plane, arms burning with the weight of his body as he hauled himself up through the hatch. Navigating his way through to the cockpit with ease, he slid into the pilot's seat, feeling Pappy's gaze burning into the side of his skull.

"...Yes Pappy?" He asked after a moment of silence, his co-pilot shaking his head side to side, never retracting his penetrating stare.

"I fuckin' knew it."

#masters of the air #masters of the air oc #masters of the air fic #rosie rosenthal #rosie rosenthal x oc #ken lemmons #pappy lewis #oc: frankie #oc: george #fic | i'm your man

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katsu28 · 1 year

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Hi babes! I think you’re a fantastic writer and that we all really appreciate the writing you do!

I was wondering if I could get “being carried/tucked into bed after staying up waiting for their partner to come home” with a female reader for Jamie!

If you don’t want to, that’s totally okay as well! Thank you for you’re work! You’re amazing

thank you!! u are too kind, i appreciate you <3

jamie tartt x fem!reader, 1k

You felt like you hadn’t seen Jamie in ages. There was a good effort on both your parts to make time for each other and your relationship, but with both early morning and late night training sessions for the upcoming Premier League Cup on his end, your time together had been quickly growing more sparse.

Countless date nights had been canceled, and you used to be able to pop over to Nelson Road with some takeaway for a quick lunch in the stands with him, but with your workplace becoming horribly understaffed lately, lunches had been set on the backburner too.

More often than not, the most time you had with each other was in bed, but that was mostly spent getting some much needed sleep. He was always exhausted, you were always exhausted—it was a never ending cycle. Sometimes you’d vaguely sense him slip under the covers beside you with a kiss pressed to whichever part of your body was closest to him, but you were usually asleep by the time he got home.

Tonight, however, you were determined to stay awake until he came home. You settled yourself in front of the television with the latest season of the show you were currently binging, clutching a cup of steaming tea between your hands to keep you awake.

Your exhaustion from the workday quickly proved too much to bear, because as soon as you settled your head on your arm, you could feel your eyelids growing heavier and heavier. Soon enough, you’d fallen asleep.

-------

Jamie let himself in as quietly as he could, being careful not to let the door slam behind him. You were probably long gone by now, that’s how late it was.

He hated that he was getting home around this time almost everyday now, but he kept telling himself it was only for another few weeks. Just a few more weeks and then he’d be home at a normal time and you’d get to spend your evenings together again. He’d already started planning some of them out as a motivation.

Toeing off his trainers by the coat rack, Jamie was prepared to make a mad dash down the hall in order to miss that one pesky creaky floorboard, but then he turned around.

He clocked in on the soft noise coming from the telly first, the show he knew for a fact you’d been meaning to catch up on nothing but background noise when he spotted you a split second later.

You were curled up on the sofa, fast asleep, cheek pressed into the sleeve of his jumper. An empty mug hung from your fingertips, threatening to fall until Jamie scooped it up and put it on the end table next to you. He knelt by your head, taking his time to admire your peaceful face before giving your arm a gentle rub.

“Hey,” He murmured. You stirred a little bit, but didn’t open your eyes. He prodded at your shoulder this time, a little more insistent this time. “Babe, wake up.”

You blinked awake slowly, stifling a yawn behind your hand. Once your eyes adjusted to the light and you saw Jamie crouched in front of you, you knew your attempt in staying awake until he got home had been futile.

“Hi.” You mumbled, rubbing your eyes furiously. His lips quirked up into part of a grin. “I meant to stay up til you got home. Guess it didn’t work out too well.”

“It’s late," Jamie said quietly, running his thumb over the apple of your cheek fondly. “You didn’t have to wait up for me, love.”

“I wanted to.”

“But it’s late.” You knew he wasn’t saying it with anything other than your wellbeing in mind, but you still frowned, pushing yourself up on one elbow.

“I feel like we haven’t seen each other in ages.”

Jamie’s expression crumpled. He dragged a hand through his hair, bunching the strands at the top of his head before letting them flop back into place. “I know. I know, love, and ‘m sorry. It’s just been mad stressful with everything goin’ on, but I promise soon I’ll be home a lot more and a lot earlier. Just a few more weeks, that’s it.”

“Oh no, Jaim, I'm not blaming you at all.” Scrambling to a sitting position, you took both of his hands in yours gently. You ducked down to meet his defeated gaze, pressing a kiss to his forehead and bumping his chin with your knuckles to get him to look back up at you. When he did, he looked downright exhausted but offered you a tiny smile anyways. “We’ve both been busy. I just thought it’d be nice to get some actual time together before bed.”

“You’re the best,” He sighed, letting himself fall forwards until his upper half on your lap, face buried in the blanket covering you. “I’m so tired.”

“Double training sessions will do that to you.”

“Try triple. Roy’s a madman—I think he’s trying to kill me!”

“By whipping you into better shape than you’ve ever been before?” You teased, stroking a hand down his back. “If anything, he’s trying to kill me by making you look like you do.”

“You think I look good?”

“I always think you look good, babe.” You assured him, giving him a firm pat on the bum.

He perked up rather proudly at the compliment and action. “Good enough to take to bed?”

“To sleep? Never thought you’d ask.”

“Alright, c’mon you sleepyhead,” Jamie sighed faux-dramatically, clambering to his feet. He hefted you into his arms with ease and you snuggled a bit deeper against his chest, pressing your nose into his neck with a content sigh. He’d showered at the facility, you could tell by the smell of his conditioner invading your senses. “You sniffin’ me, you weirdo?”

“You wish.”

Jamie dropped you onto the bed once he was within tossing distance but tucked you in, bringing the covers up under your chin in such a manner that contradicted the playful roughness of his other actions. “Don’t you dare fall asleep on me yet. Ten minutes and I’m yours for the night, yeah?”

“Better get a move on then, shouldn’t you? I’m so sleepy, I could just crash…right—”

“Don’t you fuckin’ dare. I’m goin’ as fast as I can, love, I can barely feel me legs right now!”

follow @katsu-library to be notified when i post new fics :)

#jamie tartt #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt x fem!reader #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt fluff #jamie tartt fic #jamie tartt one shot #jamie tartt imagine #ted lasso tv

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thebearer · 1 year

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https://www.tumblr.com/thebearer/727588052565934080/drooling-at-the-thought-of-lip-putting-one-arm

Imagine being Lip’s passenger princess

genuinely all i want to be on this earth and i mean that.

a road trip with lip? like maybe on a little getaway somewhere for just the two of you. you saved up, so did he, and you're splurging by just going to some little cabin on a lake somewhere. really just to get out of the city and for a vacay.

lip 10000% insists on driving the whole time (bc that's just how he is and you know it) and you're just his lil passenger princess. in charge of the music, telling him you need to pee every hour, the temperature of the car, feeding him snacks.

but also bitching at each other back and forth bc lip has the WORST road rage.

lip lays on the horn, hand waving in annoyance at someone slow in front of him. "get outta the left lane, fucker!"

"oh my god, can you relax?" you huff, gripping the seat while lip revs around the person. "you're gonna kill us."

"no, he's gonna kill us. goin' ten under in the left lane, the fuck?"

"just calm down, you're so annoying." you roll your eyes at him. "you're gonna get pulled over. you better watch it."

"hey, how about you just sit there and let me drive, alright?" lip snaps, jaw clenched in annoyance. "i got it."

so you two sit in silence, you're mad at him, he's annoyed with you. until it just kinda settles, his hand finds your thigh again, rubbing a soothing apology into your skin and you're giving back in. feeding him a snack, giggling when he rolls his eyes at a song you play, then clicking your tongue in irritation when he swerves in and out of a lane, glaring at the person he's passing. the cycle starts alllllll over again.

#thebearer #bearblahs #lip gallagher #lip gallagher fluff #lip gallagher x reader #lip gallagher imagine #shamless us #shameless #shameless fluff #lip gallagher blurb

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sexhaver · 10 months

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list of Boston driving behaviors that would be punishable by summary execution on the spot if i could write laws:

being in the left lane of the highway, getting passed on the right by a minimum of two cars within 30 seconds of each other, and doing anything other than either IMMEDIATELY speeding up or getting out of the lane (the speed limit, your initial speed, and the rudeness of the cars passing you are all completely irrelevant)

being in line for a protected left turn at a stoplight where you can clearly see that the left turn light is green for literally 6 seconds, then spending an extra 4 seconds to look both ways and verify that the protected left is in fact protected before slowwwwly accelerating through the intersection, meaning that nobody behind you can possibly make it through on that same light cycle (if you're not even the first car in line and do this shit your remains will be publicly displayed in a gibbet at the relevant intersection)

stopping in a roundabout to yield to someone outside the roundabout trying to merge in (i could be talked into lowering the sentence for this one to 6 months in a reeducation camp)

that thing where a bunch of cars are all in a single-file line along a one-lane road and then someone stops to turn left and even helpfully moves as close to the median as possible so people behind them can easily drive around, and the geriatric fuck in a minivan behind them assumes their vehicle is the size of a battleship and very slowly nudges towards the gap that can OBVIOUSLY fit their car before stopping in defeat and waiting for the person "blocking" them to turn left so they can move

using your blinker on the last possible frame of your lane change so it only flashes once like you're trying to land a perfect parry

getting mad at drivers in who, when approaching traffic stopped because two lanes are merging down to one, actually use either lane right up until they merge instead of seeing "RIGHT LANE ENDS IN 1000 FEET" and dutifully moving left and then snarling like a rabid dog at anyone who tries to merge in after that

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l0t4n · 9 months

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CAN THEY DRIVE??

a/n this is my first time posting to this account... Exciting... Please feel free to lmk any of ur thoughts I feel like I kinda exaggerated certain characters teehee

Contains the brothers + dateables. Occasional mentions of gn mc. Truly about their driving skill

LUCIFER

-yes, has his driver's license

-puts on the appearance of someone who is good at driving and well-adjusted

-when he's alone or when things ramp up even a little, however, his road rage is actually insane

-will literally lay on the horn at anyone who slights him, even a little

-when he's not alone and feels the need to protect his pride, will still be an angry driver but in a far more subtle way

-turns on his high beams, rides people's bumpers, cuts people off and break-checks them any time he can't quite make a big scene

-even when he isn't driving, he's an insane backseat driver, but to different degrees depending on who's driving

-occasionally backseat drives for Beel, Asmo or Satan but definitely plays it up just to mess with Mammon in particular

-will backseat drive for mc out of concern rather than jest

-still annoying

-good at driving on the surface but his anger makes him far more prone to accidents than most, third best driver out of the brothers

MAMMON

-Yes, has his license - otherwise the car in his room would be redundant

-surprisingly good at driving, understands and obeys traffic laws, overly cautious at times

-not out of genuine respect for those laws, just out of care for his car

-wouldn't bother being subtle if another driver pulls a maneuver that has the potential to mess up his paint job, will scream out the window or lay on the horn

-immediately stops and speeds off if the other driver tries to reciprocate

-will be SO annoying if anyone tries to eat or drink in his car

-even water he'll demand is thrown out before entry

-his brothers hate it. Isn't as harsh about it towards mc, but will quickly revoke their special privileges if they end up actually spilling something

-constant cycle of those cologne-y tree air fresheners hanging from his rear view mirror

-has a million more unopened ones in the glove box

-car is clean at a glance, but trash is just barely hidden out of sight under car seats and in cup holders

-honestly pretty reliable driver, second best out of all his brothers

LEVIATHAN

-no, doesn't have a driver's license or a car

-says it's because he wouldn't even have anywhere to go, is partially correct in that assertion

-Mammon and Asmo tried to teach him to drive a while ago, he wanted to drive to a convention that was farther away

-couldn't so much as put the car in drive without panicking that he was imminently at threat of hitting something

-any time his foot even grazed the gas, he'd slam the breaks to the floor

-didn't take long to start crying about it

-Mammon stopped the short-lived lessons there, didn't want Levi's tears to ruin the interior of his car

-any time Levi needs a ride now, he'll either walk (very short distances), use public transportation (only if he can secure an isolated seat away from everyone else), or ask one of his brothers for a ride

-prefers when Barbatos drives him places the most and Mammon the least, although probably ends up being driven by Asmo the most

-if he did have a car, it would undoubtedly be painful

-COVERED in anime decals, maybe a custom wrap of Ruri-chan

-would probably be decent at driving if he got over his initial fears, but that's not going to happen

SATAN

-yes, he has his driver's license - it's just frequently suspended

-unlike Lucifer, will not wait until he's alone to exhibit severe road rage

-even worse than Lucifer, isn't above getting out of the car and slamming his fists against the driver's side window of whoever he's mad at

-backseat of his car is piled high with books he doesn't have room for at the HoL

-”sorry, you can just throw those in the back” -Satan, any time mc is trying to get into the front seat of his car

-seats and interior are probably also coated in cat hair, he can't stand to get rid of it

-so anyways back to his horrible road rage

-his repeated verbal (and physical) assaults on other drivers means his license is repeatedly (often) suspended

-when he needs transportation during these times he usually defaults to Beel

-on the few occasions he needs to resort to riding with Lucifer, he intentionally does shit to get him into trouble - diverting his eyes from the road and ruining his focus, reaching over and wiggling the wheel from Lucifer's hands, etc

-doesn't seem to truly question why his license, after being repeatedly suspended, has yet to be permanently revoked from him

-nor why it keeps getting reinstated faster than promised

-hint: it's Lucifer

-not a very good driver at all - being on the road has a way of bringing out anger even in people who are not normally prone to it, and sadly, Satan is nothing if not prone to anger

-when he isn't angry, he's exceptional at following traffic laws and probably has obscure details about them memorized

-jumps out of his car, even on the busiest intersections, whenever he sees a cat on the side of the road

-takes it home every time without fail

-this is actually a more pressing reason to keep him off the road compared to the traffic violations in the mind of Lucifer

-fifth best driver out of the brothers

ASMODEUS

-yes, has his driver's license

-his car is fucking insane

-fluffy pink steering wheel cover and dashboard cover AND seat covers, maybe a little leopard print thrown in, but only a little he's not an animal

-car is more heavily perfumed than Mammon’s, his air freshener hanging right next to the fluffy dice off of his rear view mirror

-backseat windows are tinted and one-directional, for Reasons

-will not drive unless music is blasting at full volume

-you can feel the vibrations from Britney Spears’s (or devildom equivalent) dulcet tones in your seat

-constantly on his phone while driving, taking photos and videos of himself, occasionally livestreaming

-projects the image of someone who does not care about traffic laws

-secretly a very good driver, never gets into accidents

-significantly more forgiving of other cars and much less prone to road rage than his brothers

-the best driver out of all of them

BEELZEBUB

-yes, has his license

-probably the most unremarkable driver out of all of them

-only got his license to take Belphie places, since he was the only one out of the two who could actually stay awake behind the wheel

-his shortcomings do not lie in his sin like Satan or Lucifer, but instead just from being a beefbrain

-not very perceptive, especially when he's driving to a restaurant or something - easily distracted by other goals and forgets the most important goal of driving

-don't hit things

-doesn't ever end up in a major accident, but may need to slam on the breaks from time to time

-apologizes accordingly for these instances

-car is overall not notable, depending on when you enter

-Lucifer makes him clean it weekly, otherwise fast food wrappers accumulate to the point of blocking the windshield

-keeps a pillow and blanket in the car for Belphie to nap with

-not a terrible driver, but not excellent either - fourth best out of the brothers

BELPHEGOR

-no driver's license

-literally no way he's going to stay awake behind the wheel

-tried to learn how to drive first so he could drive Beel places, but fell asleep while driving enough times and ran into enough things that they will not let him anymore

-felt apologetic about it at first, but got used to being driven by Beel everywhere quickly

-the movement of the car lulls him right to sleep anyways

-even if it isn't Beel driving he will fall asleep

-would prefer to sprawl out over the back seats but can fold himself up in the front seat if need be

-if he was capable of staying awake, would probably be a decent driver, if not very passive-aggressive

-would chronically drive under the speed limit like he's elderly

DIAVOLO

-Yes, has a driver's license - Barbatos insisted he got one, yet he hardly ever uses it

-almost always escorted places by designated chauffeurs or, less commonly, Barbatos himself

-thought getting his license would be his ticket to freedom, his teenage girl escape

-was so upset when he found out he wasn't even allowed to go to the DMV, everything was filed from the castle

-felt deprived of yet another commoner experience, still doesn't know why everyone hates the DMV so bad

-(stands for “devildom motor vehicles”)

-driving was fun for him at first, but since he doesn't really get the chance to drive normally it stopped being fun after a while

-even when he does get to drive, Barbatos’s backseat driving is insane

-double whammy if Lucifer is in the car too

-actually a pretty good driver, made sure to be responsible and study laws and techniques in advance

-doesn't even understand the concept of road rage, probably laughs it off every time someone pulls a dangerous maneuver in his proximity

-better driver than Lucifer, yet not on par with Asmo

BARBADOS

-yes, of COURSE he has a driver's license

-he's the one virtually everyone defaults to when they need a ride, anyways

-primarily transports Diavolo, but frequently helps the brothers get around too

-literally the safest possible driver you could ever dream of

-always doing the exact speed limit. Predicts unsafe drivers in his vicinity before they're even in his line of sight. Never slams the breaks or swerves for any reason

-got distracted once while parking, lightly scraped a curb

-the most horrified he's ever been

-dedicated the next few years to improving his driving skill, even though it was already exceptional

-dedicated driving gloves for every time he gets in the car

-very anal retentive about cleanliness in the car, especially

-hates having to crawl in there to clean shit up

-will obviously end up doing it eventually anyways. Sigh

-easily the best driver out of every other character, if not in the entire devildom

SIMEON

-no, he doesn't have a driver's license

-so fucking scared of cars

-he can hardly use a phone properly, still manages to cause problems with that, although understands how it could be worse

-a car is where it gets worse

-if he misclicks something on his phone, he may end up embarrassing himself a little, worst case scenario is a virus or needing to buy a new phone

-operating a car incorrectly could result in injury or death

-nobody bothers teaching him regardless, although he did greatly consider learning for a while, to help Luke get around easier

-just defaults to Barbatos instead

-it's probably a good thing he doesn't drive - without that fear of technology, especially of technology with high capacity to be harmful, he would probably be one of the worst drivers overall

SOLOMON

-yes, has a driver's license. Regrettably

-hardly uses it, only has a human world license, never bothered getting licensed in the devildom

-just teleports everywhere. Wiggles his fingers and does magic and goes where he wants instantly

-he literally predates the invention of cars so massively anyways so that's definitely what he did before cars too

-got a license because he thought it would be fun

-also the human world started actually cracking down on ID, he couldn't get away with the trust-based system that humanity used to operate off of

-human world officials are confused when he presents them with a driver's license twenty whole years out of date, however

-especially when his face is the exact same as the photo on his crazy old, visibly weathered license - as if he mysteriously hadn't aged…

-probably ends up in some kind of “man from Taured” style myth eventually

-might be the man from Taured actually

-fucking sucks at driving also

#obey me #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #obey me lucifer

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