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preciouslandmermaid · 6 months

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nothing’s gonna hurt you baby (carmy x f!reader) - bonus post-epilogue chapter

Note: I randomly wanted to write a wedding, but I don't actually include the ceremony, so this is more like a "pre-wedding/post-wedding" story if we're being honest ! Also it takes place about 2 years after the epilogue :)

Warnings/Tags: 18+ Content! (Explicit Language/Sexual Content).

(Read on Ao3) /// (Masterpost)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sydney held the wooden spoon toward you and the scent of the honey and ginger glaze tickled your nostrils. Earlier in the afternoon, she rolled the sleeves of her dark green sweater to her elbows and the beaded bracelet (a gift from Richie’s daughter, Eva) slid partway down her wrist.

“Alright, it’s your entree. You get to try it first.”

“I thought that was the chef’s honor?”

“Yeah, well, you’re the bride so…” she trailed off, shrugging. “I think that superimposes chef’s honor.”

You smiled and raised both eyebrows at Syd. She didn’t have to help, especially considering how busy The Bear is nowadays, but she offered and you gratefully accepted. Wedding planning – as it turned out – was a stressful affair. You and Carmy had your location set, but the guest list, wedding registry, and menu were woefully incomplete. You tangled yourselves into knots over the planning, but the goal remained firm in your mind; a celebration with Carmy and your friends mixed with the legality of marriage. You would overcome any hurdles you needed to cross because all of it would be worth it in the end.

Wordlessly, you closed your mouth over the spoon. Your lips puckered and your tongue recoiled to the safety of your back molars.

“Oh, oh shit,” Sydney said emphatically, “you hate it.”

“N-no!” You coughed, swallowing, and grabbing your glass of water. “The acidity is just a little...strong. It needs to be adjusted, that’s all.”

“Fuck,” she said, slapping her palm on the wooden countertop. “Okay – uh – that’s okay. We can – I can totally fix this. No biggie.” When she tasted the glaze, her expression pinched before she stuck out her tongue and gagged. “Yeah, nope.” She released a forced, short laugh. “There’s no saving that one.”

You loved Syd’s earnest, anxious awkwardness. Her blunt nature had been the first foundational stone of your friendship. You liked that she didn’t let Carmy off the hook, regardless of his experience and talent, and their partnership was an integral component to the Bear’s continued success.

“Back to the drawing board,” you said, drumming your fingers on the countertop. “Maybe ginger is too sharp? Do we lean more savory?”

“Interesting idea coming from the baker,” she teased.

“Hey!” You pretended to be offended and infused your tone with as much indignation as you could. “Just because I run a bakery doesn’t mean I have a sweet tooth.”

Syd laughed. “There is literally a bowl of candy by the entryway.”

“It’s for Halloween.” You crossed your arms and said, “There are a ton of families in this building.” In truth, your lack of nicotine intake after quitting smoking had manifested into a ravenous sweet tooth and, the lollipops – although bad for your teeth – were monumentally healthier than cigarettes.

“Dude, Halloween is seven months away.”

“We’re prepared.”

“What for like kids who don’t know how to like tell time and show up a few months early?”

“Obviously.”

She finished scraping the glaze into the trash. “You’re fucking ridiculous.” Her bright smile faded and the light entered her dark eyes. You recognized it as her ‘I have an idea face’ and your mood lifted—the overly sour glaze quickly forgotten. When Carmy said he wanted The Bear to cater your wedding, you had been shocked, and concerned about the additional stress it would add to your lives. However, with Syd in your kitchen, the pan gripped in her hand and her expression rapt with wonder, you realized that you had nothing to worry about. The wedding’s menu and food preparation were in the best hands.

“Do you have any soy sauce?” she asked, “Worcestershire sauce will work too, or liquid aminos if we’re desperate.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Carmy watched as your fingers held aloft over the keyboard and the spreadsheet glared menacingly in a harsh blue-white glow. The guest list had been easy to start. The obvious ones were Syd, Natalie, Peter, Richie and Eva, and your best friend, Taylor. The harder choices were family and how to arrange the tables. Your eyebrows angled in confusion and you drew your hands away.

“I’m not inviting my dad,” you said after a moment’s pause.

Carmy nodded. “Okay.”

His neck prickled uncomfortably. It wasn’t the flushed heat that arrived when he felt embarrassed. No. This discomfort traveled from his neck to his fingers. It raked across his skin like a thousand needles, pricking every nerve, and drawing blood. He thought about going to his coat pocket and withdrawing a crumpled pack of cigarettes. The quick, cold rush of nicotine would ease his headache and calm his nerves. But, if he smoked, then he’d need to walk downstairs and into the blustery sharp gray wind of March. And he didn’t want to bail on you. The puzzle of who to invite and who to sit with whom was a project for the both of you to untangle.

“I dunno if I should…” He cleared his throat and looked away when your eyes met his over the laptop screen. “I dunno.”

“Your mom?” you correctly guessed.

Carmy sniffed, scratched the side of his nose, and nodded. His heart thumped into his ribs. Maybe he should take a walk. Maybe the March air would clear this dreadful feeling from his skull. His stomach hardened into a pit at the idea of his mom coming to his wedding. But, at the same time, his dread and fear congealed into a sharp guilt that curdled his stomach acid. His mom was a force to be reckoned with. A hurricane of a woman. He loved her. He didn’t know if he wanted her at the wedding. He knew she’d be upset if she weren’t invited. But, both of you decided to keep the guest list small. The careful cuts were necessary, and not just due to the frugality aspect, but in terms of everyone’s enjoyment.

“She’d make it about her,” he said, “remember Sophia’s second birthday?”

You placed your hand on the middle of Carmy’s back, right between his tense shoulder blades, and he forced a harsh exhale through his teeth. They almost called the police, Carmy thought with a frown. His mom showed up and seemed fine, and then shortly before cake and presents, she buckled little Sophia into her car and claimed that Natalie hated her and didn’t want Sophia to have a relationship with her grandmother. His niece, at the age when separation anxiety often occurred, cried so much that she threw up on her special birthday dress.

“I do,” you said and your eyes softened.

“I’m a terrible son,” Carmy said, “I’m a fucking asshole. We have to invite her, don’t we? She deserves to be there.”

“Carmy, you’re not.” You rubbed his back. “Do you think I’m an asshole for not inviting my dad?”

He quickly said, “No.” The pit in his stomach gnawed at his smoke-deprived lungs. “It’s different.”

“How so?”

“He has another family.” Carmy stood, raking his hand through his hair. “My mom only has Nat and me.”

“So you have to sacrifice your happiness and comfort for hers?”

“Yes!” he said immediately followed by a quick, “No. I don’t know.” He reached into his coat pocket hanging by the door and fished out the squashed packet of cigarettes.

You trailed after him and wound your arms around him, pressing your face into his back, your hands coming to rest over his heart. Carmy froze. The pressure of your hands on his chest made him realize how fast his heart was beating. He squeezed the cigarette packet and it crinkled beneath his clammy fingers.

“Remind me,” you said, voice faintly muffled by his t-shirt, “what was the possible diagnosis your therapist gave her?”

“Borderline personality disorder.” His therapist also said his mom could have narcissistic personality disorder, but BPD was more likely, based on his descriptions of childhood. It helped to have a name for it. It gave him a better understanding of everything he went through.

“Which defines her behavior but doesn’t excuse it,” you said as you circled around him to face him. “Carmy, I love you.” You cupped his face in your hands. “I will support you if you want to invite Donna and I’ll weather any storms she brings with her. Who knows...maybe it’ll be a good day for her.” Your tone toward the end of your sentence became dubious.

Carmy sighed. “I don’t think I want to invite her, but I feel like I should.” He frowned. “That doesn’t make sense, does it?”

“No, it does. You feel an obligation as her son to share this big moment with her. I get it.”

“Do you feel guilty about not inviting your dad?”

“A little.” Your lips pursed. “But, if I visualize our wedding, the thought of my dad standing beside me doesn’t make me happy. I don’t feel excited about it. I just feel…”

“Dread?” he guessed.

You smiled faintly. “It’s more annoyance and anger for me.”

“Mm, yeah. Makes sense.” He leaned his forehead and touched it to yours. How did he get so lucky? He imagined the wedding. He imagined seeing you across from him, sliding the ring on your finger, and stuttering through his vows. The usual nervousness bubbled up inside his chest, but it was smothered by the overwhelming warmth and affection he felt for you that bled across his skin like thick honey.

“I don’t think I can invite her,” he whispered.

“That’s okay, Carm.” You kissed him softly. “That’s okay.” You repeated against his mouth. A sensation of cool and blissful relief extinguished the last lingering remnants of his dread.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Something is weird,” you said, leaning forward in the passenger seat. “Why are there two florist vans? Did we accidentally get two?” You didn’t recognize the name on the second van either. Must be a local shop, you thought, although that doesn’t explain why they’re here.

“I don’t think so,” Carmy said.

As everyone poured out of their cars, their garment bags slung over their arms or over their shoulders, a sharply dressed black woman emerged from the entrance and strode purposefully toward you and Carmy.

“You must be the Berzattos,” she said breathlessly as she shook your hands. “It’s good to meet you. My name is Vivienne and I’m afraid I have bad news.”

“What sort of bad news?” Richie said, “The kind that gets us a discount?” He grinned at Carmy and your husband-to-be rolled his eyes.

“Perhaps.”

Richie whispered, “Oh shit.”

“We’ve had some technical issues with our new scheduling program.” She wrung her hands together. “The venue has been double-booked.”

“Okay,” you said slowly, noticing all the additional staff buzzing to and fro across the manicured lawn.

Vivienne said, “I’m so sorry for the mistake. If you’d like, we can reschedule you.”

Your stomach dropped into your shoes.

“Absolutely not,” you said, “people flew out to be here. We can’t reimburse flights and accommodations, and nor should we have to considering this is your error.” You sighed, feeling a headache press into your temples. “Why didn’t you notify us?”

“How about a discount and you can split the venue?” she offered, “we only realized the mistake when the two catering companies showed up.”

“Well, that’s convenient,” said Richie.

“Fuck,” Syd said.

Natalie crossed her arms. “I’m sorry did they say double-booked?”

“Mommy!” Sophia pulled at Natalie’s pant leg. “Mommy, look! Sunflowers!” She pointed at the floral van carrying out their arrangements.

You shared a glance with Carmy. “Can we have a minute?”

“Of course. Again, we’re so sorry.”

You and Carmy broke away from the group of your closest friends and family. You rubbed your hands down the length of your face.

“We can’t reschedule,” you said, “but how the hell are we going to share the venue? They have one kitchen and we paid for our guests to stay the night.”

“Maybe the timing works out,” Carmy said, taking your hand in his. “You want to stay here?”

“Yes.”

“Then fuck it. We stay.”

“Okay, fuck it.” You smiled. “Let’s negotiate a good discount.”

“Say the word and I’ll send Pete in,” Carmy joked.

You laughed. “God, we might need him.”

The organization was a cluster-fuck. The venue manager, Vivienne, assured and promised that the space was large enough and that the other party – the Carmichael's – were having a noon wedding with a 2 PM reception and everything would be cleaned up for your 4 PM wedding and 5 PM reception. But, you noticed the proverbial cracks in the foundation. The necessary kitchen prep work, the clashing decorations, the intermingling guests, and the underlying stress and confusion permeated every interaction. You practiced intentional breathing and hoped you’d make it through the day without bursting into stress-induced tears.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The zipper was halfway up when it broke. You felt the snag, then the tug and pull, and the abrupt separation. You pressed your hand to your mouth and muffled the noise of discontent and frustration that threatened to break free.

Taylor pushed her long, thick dark braid over her shoulder and pursed her red lips at you. “We can work with this,” she said after a long moment of contemplation. “We can fix it.”

You released a strangled, “can we?” You blinked back your burning tears—you didn’t want to ruin your makeup.

“Yeah, most of these places have emergency sewing kits,” your best friend said while digging through the drawers, “also, this might be a bad time, but is the chef single?”

Despite everything, you laughed. “Which chef?”

“The tall blonde one with the accent.”

“Luca?”

Taylor’s eyes brightened. “Yes!”

“I’ll find out for you,” you said while reaching for your phone. You smiled at the sight of your phone background, a black and white photo of you and Carmy, and Taylor snickered.

“I remember when you told me about him,” she said.

“You do?”

“Yeah, you were all tied into knots about it...and now look at you! Tying the knot.” She winked. “I’m glad you guys figured it out.”

Your chest warmed with pleasure. “Me too.”

“Aha!” She held the little sewing kit aloft. It had the venue's name printed on the front of the bag. “Do you think they write this so nobody steals it?” She asked while tapping the swooping decal.

Before you could answer, your mom bustled into the room, her billowing lilac sleeves trailing after her arms.

“Oh! Look at you!” She grabbed your chin and kissed your cheek. “I’ve got something for you. A little tradition.”

“Mom, I don’t know if I can stomach any more surprises.” Taylor began to fix your zipper and the cold metal teeth periodically kissed your skin.

“You’ll like this surprise.”

Your mom removed a potted plant from her purse. The dark soil clung to her fingertips, the plant likely got knocked around more than once, as she set it down on the vanity. You recognized the wide, verdant leaves.

“A basil plant?”

“Normally, we give a flower of some type, but I chose a basil plant instead.” She smiled, pleased. “Nurture the plant as you nurture your future and it’ll thrive.”

Your throat tightened. “Thanks, Mom.” Your shoulders jerked as Taylor finished zipping and she whooped in triumphant delight.

“There we go, crisis averted,” said Taylor, “now we don’t have to worry about walking down the aisle naked.”

You rubbed your fingertips along the basil leaf and smiled at them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“God,” Richie said, fixing his tie, “I can’t believe you’re getting fucking married, cousin.”

“Yeah, me either.” Carmy scratched the side of his nose.

“I always thought Mikey’d get married before you,” he said, “he was just more charmin’, you know? He had a way with people, women especially, God…” Richie shook his head. “He couldn’t walk down the street without getting some chick’s phone number.”

Carmy stared sullenly at his reflection. “Yeah, well, maybe it’s a good thing he didn’t? ‘Cause then he’d have an ex-wife, or a widow, or a kid or somethin, I dunno.”

Carmy wondered if he’d forever be in rooms with Mikey’s shadow stuck to the corners. It didn’t suffocate him as much anymore. Mikey’s memory lurked within every conversation – like slivers of light through the paneled window shades. Today of all days though, Carmy suspected those slivers would blind him. Mikey should’ve been here, could’ve been, and he wasn’t.

“Yeah, good point.” Richie turned the side and smoothed his lapels. “Still, it should be him.”

Carmy’s neck flushed with indignation. Did Richie seriously have to be such an asshole? His brow furrowed. It was his fucking wedding day for fuck’s sake!

“Cousin—” Carmy began.

“Standing here, I mean, as your best man,” said Richie. “Look, there’s no takebacks and this would be a hell of a time to change your mind but it should’ve been Mikey. Not me. I get that, okay? That’s all I’m trying to say…” He fixed his tie again. “And I’m gonna do everything to make sure that this day doesn’t go to shit. I can promise you that, alright?”

Carmy blinked, at a loss for words at Richie’s admission. It had been six years and counting since Mikey’s death and Richie had been with him for every one. If he was being honest with himself and not caught up on nostalgia, if Mikey was here, then Carmy wasn’t sure he would have trusted him with all the responsibility. Hell, Richie organized a pizza-making bachelor party for him. He offered to trash the other couple’s wedding.

“Who else would it be?” he asked softly, “you’re family, Richie.”

Richie sniffed, nodded, and clapped his hand on Carmy’s shoulder, jostling him. When Carmy met his eyes, they were glassy and bright.

“I know.” His lips twitched up into a grin. “Let’s get you fucking married!” He pulled Carmy in a one-armed, half-hug and shook him. “Put a fucking smile on that face, Carm. Come on! Come on!”

He affectionately pinched Carmy’s face in one hand, squishing his mouth, and Carmy shoved Richie away, annoyed, but laughing—in the same way he’d get annoyed and laugh whenever Mikey goofed around with him.

“Fuck off,” said Carmy, without any heat.

“Hey,” Syd poked her head into the doorway, “you ready? The photographer wants to see all of the groomsmen.”

“Shouldn’t you say grooms-people? To be like politically correct or whatever,” Richie asked, “or groomsmen and women considering you’re among us.”

Syd made a face. “Richie shut up and come pose with us.”

“Hey, I’m just trying to be inclusive,” he said loudly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If someone asked you to recount all the details of your wedding—you didn’t think you could. It was the busiest and most stressful day of your life. You’d always remember the finer details like Carmy’s thoughtful, flustered vows, Richie starting a limbo competition, or Syd’s dad dancing with Taylor—at least for a while until she disappeared with Luca in tow. Good for you, you remembered thinking as you watched her form retreat down the hall.

But the rest of the day was an exuberant blur. It had been long and you were grateful to relax into the lush pillowcases with your short silk gown kissing your skin.

Carmy climbed into bed after showering and peppered kisses along your nose and jaw, his hands finding your hips beneath the covers and holding them.

“I can’t believe you’re my husband,” you said with soft laughter before chasing his lips with yours.

“And you’re my wife,” he said, lifting your wrists and placing them over your head, “keep those there.”

You said, “We’ve been married less than twelve hours and you’re already bossing me around?”

Carmy chuckled and his breath puffed over your peaked nipples. His tongue laved over the silk, and moistened it before he drew your nipple between his lips. The soft silk and warmth of Carmy’s tongue was a heady, back-arching mixture.

“Oh, fuck,” you whispered, plunging your hands into his damp curls and scraping your nails over his scalp.

“Yeah?” His calloused palm felt its way down your thigh, “Are you wet for me already?”

“A little,” you admitted as you parted your legs for him.

“God,” he muttered before mouthing along your breasts and wetting the silk with his tongue and lips. He held one of your breasts in his hand and squeezed, pushing the mound into his mouth again and sucking your hard nipple. The sensation turned to liquid, sticky heat between your legs. You moaned, pushing upward into his grasp and gyrating your hips in askance. His hand was frustratingly close to your cunt, but not close enough. He rubbed up and down your inner thigh from knee to apex, letting his knuckles occasionally brush your pussy, before drawing away without adding any pressure. The fucking nerve of him!

“My wife is so fucking hot,” Carmy said, and hearing the words sent a hot, fresh thrill trembling through you.

“And my husband is a fucking tease,” you said, digging your fingertips into his hard, sculpted shoulders.

Carmy pulled his mouth away from your wet breasts. The silk had darkened where his mouth had been and you could faintly see your nipples through the semi-translucent fabric.

“Am I?” He drew his hands away from you and grabbed your wrists again, pinning them above your head, “I thought I said to keep these here.”

You snorted. “When have I ever listened?”

“You’re a great listener,” he said honestly.

“I want to touch you, Carmy,” you said, matching his honesty with your own, even as his praise sang through your ears and warmed your skin.

He softened. “Okay.” He pulled your wedding ring-adorned hand to his mouth and kissed your knuckles. The moment he released your hand, you slid your fingers down his chest, smiling at the way his eyelashes fluttered and his cheeks darkened. You wiggled your fingers beneath the tight waistband of his boxer shorts and found him hard and pulsing within your grasp.

“Fuck.” He shuddered. “I feel like I could come just by looking at you.”

He jerked his hips into your touch as your fingers encircled him. You craned your neck upward and kissed him, finding the familiar rhythm of tongue and teeth, and moaning wantonly into his mouth when his hand cupped your wet folds. He hissed when his index finger pledged into you and your mind went white-hot and blank.

“Do you think the stress of the day has manifested into being super horny for each other?” You asked, your other hand cupping the back of Carmy’s neck, pinning his face close to yours so you could kiss him. His pretty blue eyes blinked at you.

“Maybe. But, I think I just want to fuck my wife.” His cock twitched in your hand and you grinned.

“It turns you on to call me your wife, doesn’t it?”

“It does.”

His admission made your walls clench around his index finger. Maybe you liked it too. Maybe. You felt Carmy smile against your lips. “Can’t wait to be inside you,” he muttered, “filling you, listening to you moan.”

You gasped and your eyes rolled back into your skull. It wasn’t often that Carmy engaged in dirty talk, so when he did, it was a rare and special treat that never failed to drench your core. Carmy ran his tongue along your neck, tasting your sweat before a second finger speared between your folds and coaxed that inner fire.

“Keep this on,” he said, dragging his teeth across the strap of your gown, “when I fuck you.”

“Mm – fuck. Okay,” you groaned.

“Actually, I—” his words were suddenly lost to a moan as you adjusted your grip on his cock, your fingers slicked with pre-cum. “Fuck, baby. I need you on top of me.”

“Gladly.”

Carmy rolled onto his back, yanking his shorts down, and you smiled at the sight of him – as desperate as you were with his chest heaving and his wet curls falling onto his forehead. Your walls clenched in anticipation as you hiked the hem of the dress over your hips. Carmy’s hands settled on your thighs and he watched hungrily as you held the base of his cock and slowly lowered yourself onto him. Your spine convulsed and the sensation of him stretching you and filling you wiped out every lingering thought in your mind.

“God,” his voice was strangled, “you feel so fucking amazing.”

You cupped his face, resting your forehead on his as you rode him, and said, “so do you.”

“I love you so much,” Carmy said reverently, “so goddamn much.”

Your heart threatened to break and regrow the from sheer tenderness of his words. Carmy, you learned over the years, expressed his love with acts of service and he said ‘I love you’ most often while having sex. However, something about this ‘I love you’ was different. It was more intense on your post-wedding night. You buried your face into his sweaty neck, your bodies and hearts joined, your futures intrinsically linked.

“I love you too.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You tilted the watering can over the thriving basil plant and smiled.

“Auntie.” Sophia, freshly eight years old, held something in her hands. “I found a worm.”

You blinked at her. “Put it back?”

“Okay!” She replied cheerily and dropped the worm back into the potted rosemary. She spun when the balcony door slid open. “Hi Uncle Carmy! Do you want to see the worm?” She pointed.

Carmy smiled, first at his niece, and then at you. “Let me see,” he said, crouching. He balanced his wrists on his knees and the sunlight gleamed off his wedding band. Your heart skipped. My husband. You wondered what your grandfather would say if you could tell him that his death led you to your soulmate, a second family, and a range of new friends. Knowing him he’d tell me that he would’ve died sooner if he knew how happy it’d make me. Your grandfather had had a wry sense of humor.

Carmy stood and put his arm around you. “We’re going to need to re-pot the basil if it keeps growing like this,” he said absentmindedly.

You leaned into him and kissed his cheek.

#carmy berzatto x reader #carmy x reader #carmy berzatto x you #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmen carmy berzatto x reader #the bear fanfic #carmen 'carmy' berzatto #carmen 'carmy' berzatto x you

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slexenskee · 7 months

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Masterpost✨ May Death Never Stop You - Oneshots

Making a big masterlist to be updated as I go along.

All the unrelated shorts/prompts/asks/AUs for this series live on tumblr under the #mdnsy oneshots tag. But they get lost constantly on my dashboard so they also have their own permanent home on Patreon (free) in a MDNSY Collection.

Any time I add to the collection I'll make a post about it on tumblr too, but as I said those get lost really quickly on tumblr and can be hard to track down after the fact. I will likely never post any of these on AO3, even if I might link them in the ANs for people to read. They're mostly just >1k shorts that come from ideas people have in the comments of the fic, so they may never find a place in the story proper, but the opposite of that is also true. The oneshot Cursed Fight, for example, will probably be somewhere in the epilogue. Other ones like Anti-Hero might be slipped into a later Endeavor POV if it makes sense. So especially for that reason, I don't want them interfering with the reader experience. Also, if I create an AU (like Sunshine of my Lifetime, or the Mpreg AU that as of yet doesn't have a name) that has enough substance of its own, it might find its way into the 'big leagues' lol of AO3.

There's a meme on here about how seeing someone on AO3 is like attending their Thesis presentation, and seeing someone on Tumblr is like being at their house watching them eat mayonnaise out of a jar at 2am. I in particular am mostly a trash meme goblin and that reflects pretty soundly on my Tumblr, and this kind of content deserves better than that lol

Masterlist:

One-shots:

Anti-Hero - Endeavor has never understood any of his children, but Touya most of all. Written for a commenter that wanted to see more of Gojo's childhood

At Tea Time - Gojo's a girl dad. Accompaniment fic for this adorable fanart piece of baby Fuyumi and baby Gojo dressed up and playing tea party.

Nest - Gojo is sick. Hawks makes a nest about it. Written for an ask that wanted to see Gojo's opinion on Hawks's more 'animal' traits

Cursed Fight - Satoru releases a new single called Ao no Sumika for the third season of his hit anime, Cursed Fight. Everyone has feelings about it. AU written in response to a lot of asks about MHA characters experiencing/watching Gojo's past life

Detour - @Scrubstan22 finds himself in the (un)enviable position of explaining Ru-kun to the JJK cast. for an ask about the JJK cast finding out about MDNSY Ru-kun

Don't Forget About Us - The new bff learns about the old bff. for an ask about Makoto learning about Suguru

So Full of Love (NSFW) - The tension snaps the moment Hawks gets his mouth on Satoru. Smut for Ch 23 of FLW. Co-written with K, and also up on AO3 under their account

Alternate Universes/Spin-Offs:

Only Shooting Stars (Break The Mold) - The AU where Gojo is actually All Might's rascal of a Cali kid

#fic may death never stop you #mdnsy oneshots

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scoops-aboy86 · 2 months

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Break Free (Secret Admirer pt 9)

This is the last chapter, but there will be an epilogue posted soon.

wc: 4663 / rated: T / set after season 3 / also on ao3

It ends with Steve’s hands sliding into Eddie’s hair—damp from sweat and a little tangled and stiff from whatever product he uses to make it look so full when, actually, the curls seem fine and almost wispy against Steve’s fingers—to cradle him closer. Eddie sways back, big brown eyes glazed and slow-blinking but coming back from whatever stratosphere the kiss had sent him to. Instead of letting go, Steve lets Eddie slip through his fingers until his hands come to rest on the guy’s shoulders. And then, when Eddie starts to scuttle backwards, he keeps a loose grip on his forearms that slides down until they’re nearly holding hands.

“Eddie,” Steve tries desperately, stomach sinking. His lips and heart feel bruised. “No, please don’t go, it’s okay.”

For a moment, Eddie’s palms settle in his hands. Those wide eyes focus on him, seemingly with great effort, and Eddie starts shaking his head and muttering, “Shouldn’t have, shouldn’t have…” Slurs the words a little.

“It’s okay,” Steve says again, softer, trying his best to be gentle, imploring. “It’s okay that you did, don’t worry about shouldn’t. I am the opposite of mad, alright?”

Eddie hesitates, then adds uncertainly, “M’drunk.”

“Yeah, you are, kinda,” Steve agrees. “I mean, kind of a lot. I’m not, but I’m… I’m good, baby. Please just stay and talk to me? For a minute?”

“Oh,” he says in the smallest voice Steve’s ever heard—smaller than he thought Eddie even could be. It sounds a little like something breaking, and everything about him seems to shrink in on himself. “So you know. That I’m me.”

“Yeah, I know you’re my secret admirer.” Something is breaking in Steve too, just watching it happen. “Look, Eddie, you’re a theatrical guy. Maybe you had an idea about some big, dramatic reveal where everything would fall right into place with, with an impressive speech like something out of your letters. You’re so good with words, man, so I can see it. I get the vision. I don’t know your voice as well as I want to yet, but I know how you sound from those letters because you’re so expressive and smart about that shit, fuck high school and what the teachers might say, but…”

He rubs his thumbs gently over the pulse points at Eddie’s wrists, feeling how it races, and desperately clings to eye contact through the head tilt that sends curly hair draping across his face.

“I don’t know what you had in mind for this, or if you could even picture it because it’s such a huge thing after all the build-up. But maybe this is okay? I mean, yeah, you’re drunk, that’s not ideal I guess. But I could go inside with you and get you some water, make sure you don’t puke again, get some aspirin out for you to take in the morning… and we could try that kiss again when you’ve sobered up. What do you say?”

Immediately Steve feels like an idiot for that last sentence. It sounds more like something he’d say when offering Dustin ice cream to cheer him up after missing a radio call with Suzie or something, not offering to take care of someone he’s hopeful about being able to date. He can feel his face heating up… and after a moment, Eddie raises one hand to very, very gently touch his cheek. The one that’s still bruised under the makeup.

“Stevie,” Eddie murmurs, and that’s a new one. Maybe a little girly, but Steve kind of likes it because it makes their names match: Eddie and Stevie. “You’d really…?”

“Offer to take care of you? I think I just did.” Steve allows himself a tentative smile. “Kiss you again? Absolutely. I would maybe direct you to a toothbrush and toothpaste first, maybe some mouthwash, but—”

Eddie shakes his head with a wet snort. “Oh fuck off, don’t… don’ rub it in.” He blinks, one eye slightly slower on the uptake than the other but for the most part pretty well coordinated. “We can go in. You, you don’ care ‘s a trailer?”

“I’m literally considering getting one of my own when I move out,” Steve tells him. Because he has been, there aren’t a lot of options for a single dude in Hawkins that don’t involve a sublet basement or room above a garage or something else to that effect. Maybe if he had roommates to split the cost of renting a house with… but all the friends he has now are still in school.

So. Yeah, Forest Hills trailer park had been on his radar before tonight. Right now, if tonight goes well, it’s honestly at the top of his list.

Big brown eyes blink at him again. “But where’ll you put your pool?” Eddie asks, dead serious in the way only little kids or the very drunk can pull off.

“It doesn’t travel well.” Smiling, he reaches across and pops the passenger door open. “Come on now, you need more water. No, hey hey hey, wait for me to come around—!”

Eddie wakes up queasy and with a pounding headache. Definitely hungover, but vaguely aware that he should feel worse.

He has a fuzzy memory of waking up in the middle of the night (or morning?) to hurl, and being coaxed afterwards to drink more water, nibble his way through a piece of toast, and swallow a couple of pills. Aspirin, probably, based on the fact that he’s not hallucinating right now, which—he’d had a bad experience once when he grabbed the wrong tin, okay, he does not want to think about that right now.

…

Upon further consideration, the fuzzy memory was probably a dream. Because he remembers it being Steve fucking Harrington doing the coaxing. Coaxing, and blushing deliciously whenever Eddie’s fingers had brushed against his, so of course Drunk Eddie had made a point of letting that happen as often as possible.

Nice dream, though.

…

Why is it so warm? Like, yeah it’s summer and the trailer has one dinky AC unit in the living room window that doesn’t really do shit, and it doesn’t feel like he’s slept until the hottest part of the day, but. He’s holding a pillow to his chest or something? Damn thing is radiating heat.

He should move.

Ugh. He doesn’t want to move. His stomach rolls less when he stays still.

…

The pillow is breathing. It’s holding his forearms where they’re crossed over its stomach with big hands, grip lax with sleep.

…

Wait.

That’s no moon.

Eddie tenses, finally starting to actually wake up.

Help me Obi Wan Kenobi, you’re… a fictional character and I’m SPOONING STEVE GODDAMN HARRINGTON.

The only thing Eddie doesn’t get is how he could’ve gotten his arms around the dude like that without waking him up. He’d been a gross, vomiting mess last night, surely Steve wouldn’t have chosen to cuddle up. Maybe Wayne had come home from work and sent him crawling in here to share the mattress instead of risking a perfectly good spine on their old monster of a couch… and then Eddie had wrapped around him somehow? While they both slept?

He tries to sit up, but immediately regrets it when his head throbs, his stomach clenches, and he realizes his left arm is numb from where it’s wedged under Steve. It’s enough to make him groan out loud, and of course that’s when Steve starts to stir.

There’s nowhere to run. Even if he rolls away, the farthest he can go is flat on his back between Steve and the wall. It’s just a twin mattress, there’s not exactly— Oh god, and he’d spilled bong water on it again yesterday but hadn’t gotten around to stripping the sheets off and doing laundry yet. He’d figured he’d hit the party and afterwards bribe Jeff to take him by the grocery store for baking soda. But that hadn’t happened, because apparently he’d decided to get blackout drunk instead and now he’s in bed with Steve Harrington and, and, and—

“Eddie, Eds, hey, breathe!”

Steve is rolled over and facing him now, propped up on one elbow and eyes wide with concern. He has a hand pressed to Eddie’s chest over his heart—and this is how Eddie realizes they’re both shirtless, fantastic, absolute cherry on top of the freakout sundae that is this morning—while holding Eddie’s non-numb hand over his own.

“Like this,” Steve tells him, and takes a slow breath in and out.

In and out. Eddie tries to copy him.

In and out.

When trying finally dissolves into actually doing it, into breathing like a human again, something in Steve’s expression loosens in relief. “Fuck,” he sighs, sagging a little but still careful not to pin Eddie’s arm again. “I’m glad that worked, I’ve never done that with anyone besides Robin before.” He bites his lip, gaze scanning over Eddie’s face like a hot brand. There’s still fading evidence of a massive shiner around his left eye, more obvious than Eddie remembers it being last night and with hints of inexpertly wiped-away concealer here and there. “Are you okay?”

“No?” Eddie manages to croak. “How did— Why are you— What did I do?”

Because he must have done something to end up in this situation, something which he has absolutely zero recollection of, to end up in this predicament, wearing only his boxers and one sock, cuddled up to the guy he’s in love with.

Who is currently wearing a borrowed pair of Eddie’s shorts. Jesus H. Christ.

And yet, somehow Steve manages to look bashful about the whole predicament. “I, uh. Kind wanted to make sure you got home safe, because you said you didn’t have a ride.”

Eddie rakes his brain for an explanation for that, because he had had a ride. And, fuck, where the hell is his lunchbox? He winces and holds up a wait a minute finger, because while this crisis is important, he literally cannot afford to have lost that and it’s making the bottom fall out of his stomach in a completely different direction. “I need to make a call. It’s very important.”

“Oh, uh… okay.”

There’s some shuffling, not made any easier by the pins and needles feeling now rippling through Eddie’s left arm, but eventually Steve manages to sit up and swing his legs off the side of the bed so Eddie doesn’t have to suffer the mortifying ordeal of physically clambering over him. It’s the one saving grace of the day so far. He stumbles out of his bedroom, mindful to keep quiet but still glaring down the length of his trailer where Wayne is asleep in his cot, sleeping soundly while his only nephew suffers.

“Pick up pick up pick up,” he chants under his breath while the phone rings, using the mantra to keep his breathing steady. “Pick u—Oh hey, hi, good morning, is Jeff home? Uh, awake? I need to speak with him on an extremely urgent matter. Life or death. Please tell him that. Thank you?”

Jeff isn’t a morning person. Neither is Eddie, usually, but here he is at… Christ, only 8:42am on a Saturday morning, twisting the phone cord around one finger that it’s starting to lose feeling again. He just about jumps out of his skin when he hears Jeff’s gruff, “What the fuck, Eddie?”

“Goooood morning to you too,” Eddie blusters, trying to sound insanely cheerful rather than panicked. “Quick question, did I give you my lunchbox last night?”

The immediate groan mostly answers that question. “Yeah, Munson, you did. And I’m hauling your ass home next time if this is the thanks I get for letting you stay and get wasted.”

Eddie sags against the flimsy wall separating the kitchen from the bathroom. “Oh thank fuck. Sorry man, thank you, I’ll… It won’t happen again, I’ll never call you before noon for the rest of my days, I swear.”

“Yeah right.” Jeff yawns. “What the fuck has you so wired this early, man? Or are you still awake from last night?”

I wish. “Nope, weird dream,” Eddie replies. “I’ll, uh, swing by later. In the afternoon. Go back to sleep.”

“You know that once I wake up I can’t get back to—”

Eddie feels bad for hanging up on his best friend, but it’s not like he can tell him what’s actually going on. There’s the whole gay thing, for one, but even having a female jock in his bed would send shock waves throughout his tight little friend group, so panicking at Jeff about the remaining, and once again much more looming issue isn’t an option and never has been. Probably never will be. Maybe. Eddie doesn’t know. He has a Steve Harrington to deal with.

He doesn’t even have the presence of mind to check how he looks in the mirror. Too much pressure; he already knows it’s not going to be pretty after a night of drinking, and whatever his bed head has decided to do on feels lopsided and tangled and weird.

Or maybe he’s overthinking it. He probably is.

Okay.

Okay, he can do this.

… He can run out the trailer door, boxers and one sock be damned, and never look back.

No, no, he can do this. He’d had the balls to start writing the letters in the first place, he can deal with whatever inexplicable fallout has come of it! What’s the worst that could happen?

Maybe Steve had stayed to tell him to stop writing the letters. So he could reject him face to face in the light of day, without the risk of alcohol washing the memory of it away. Maybe even reveal that he’d figured Eddie out a long time ago and played along, that it was all just a big joke. Prank the freak, right?

Just for a second, Eddie lets himself contemplate bolting. Sinks down on his haunches with his reddening face in his hands and thinks it through: how he could get to Jeff’s on foot, pick up his seed money and his guitar, buy a bus ticket out of Hawkins and maybe find an apartment when he gets to Indy, maybe catch another bus headed for Chicago, New York, Los Angeles. He doesn’t have a high school diploma but shop was the only class he’s ever passed with flying colors, so he knows he can find work somewhere even if it sucks starting out. Set up in some city where no one knows his name and no one from home (except Wayne, of course, he could never cut Wayne out) knows his mailing address. No more letters from Steve, and it’s only a matter of time before Steve breaks out of his parents house and then Eddie really won’t be able to write to him anymore. And then life would be just… like that. Never knowing if it could have worked out after all, but by then it’d be too late. Forever.

A world without Steve. Without sunshine. Without air.

Okay.

Eddie groans, scrubs his hands over his face, and reluctantly goes back down the hall to his bedroom. Without a stop to check the bathroom mirror, he’s already hanging on by a thread as it is.

Waking up to Eddie having a panic attack wasn’t the best way this morning could have started out. The longer Steve waits for him to come back the more awkward he feels, enough that he gets up briefly to try and find his shirt. He fails, in all the mess, but opens a nearby drawer and pulls out the first shirt he can find: something so faded he can’t even read it, with the sleeves hacked unevenly off.

Not that this makes him feel any less presumptuous about being here.

Eddie clearly doesn’t remember giving him a ‘grand tour’ of the trailer, or ending it with “And this is where all the magic hap’ens” while dragging Steve into his room, or whining for him to change out of his clothes and and get some sleep. He probably doesn’t even remember what had happened in the car—the music, the kiss, the pleading confession on Steve’s part.

Actually, maybe it’s better that Eddie doesn’t remember the confession part. It was kind of embarrassing. Steve could probably do better.

… Except he’ll probably have to do it all over again, which suddenly seems a lot worse. Shit. There are a stupid number of butterflies in his stomach and it feels like they’re about to form a tornado in there.

He nearly jumps out of his skin when the bedroom door opens. Eddie slinks back inside and leans against it until it’s closed behind him again. “Sorry, had to check on my… illegally gotten gains.”

Steve almost frowns before he remembers that Eddie had been at the party in the first place to sell. He himself has a plastic baggie in his jeans pocket (carefully folded with the rest of his clothes on top of the messy dresser) that Eddie had literally sold to him. “Oh. Shit, man, I didn’t even think to check on that last night. Sorry.”

Eddie laughs thinly and slumps his way from the door to the bed, grabbing a t-shirt off the floor, sniffing it, and wiggling into it along the way. He keeps a carefully neutral distance between them—not close enough to touch, but not so far away that it seems like he’s avoiding him. (Or maybe Steve is overthinking it.) “I don’t think you have to apologize for not helping me enough, man. Pretty sure I’m the one that should be saying sorry for taking up so much of your time.”

That makes Steve frown. Is Eddie talking about last night, or about the letters too? Does he even remember that Steve knows? Butterfly tornado is officially a go. “It’s fine. Like I told you last night, I don’t mind helping.”

“Yeah…” Not quite looking at him, Eddie reaches up to rake the bangs out of his face, even though they fall right back into the same curly fringe just covering his eyebrows. That’s when he seems to notice the shirt Steve has on, pupils dilating slightly before he looks resolutely away and fidgeting. “I don’t exactly remember last night, but I’m pretty sure ‘helping me out’ shouldn’t include letting me grope you in my sleep.”

“I’ll take an octopus over a starfish any day,” he replies immediately, and truthfully. Embarrassingly. Lately, as the nightmares have started to calm down enough to catch some actual rest sometimes, Robin has become more prone to stretching out in her sleep. Not, like—she doesn’t stretch out so quickly that she’s flailing around and giving him more bruises, but the crowding is pervasive. Like the goddamn butterflies.

The look Eddie gives him is flat, tired, and a little manic, plucking absently at a loose thread dangling from the bottom of his shirt. Which, upon further inspection, is inside out. “Steve. What am I missing here?”

Last night, after Steve had finally found him again in the crowd, he’d kept grinning and making dimples pop in both cheeks. If there hadn’t been so many people around, and if Eddie hadn’t been so drunk, Steve probably would have kissed him long before they got to the car.

Steve takes a deep breath, lips tingling with the memory and urge to do it again. First, though, they have to get through this part. Again.

He reaches out, taking Eddie’s hand from where it’s fussing with the shirt, and threads their fingers together. The chunky rings Eddie usually wears are still on the nearest flat surface to the bed, but this hand still has the thinner band—an old mood ring, Steve thinks, though the stone always seems dark so maybe it’s broken. He looks at their hands together, and feels something settle in his chest.

Nervous as he is, this feels right. When he hazards a glance at Eddie’s face, it’s pink. Also angled down to stare at their linked hands, but Eddie is looking at him through unfairly long eyelashes.

“Steve?” Eddie whispers, sounding… what? Afraid, awed? He’s got to be nervous too, it’s written into the tension in his slightly scrawny frame, looking smaller without all his usual layers of denim and leather.

“I know you wrote those letters,” Steve murmurs, leaning into the carefully curated distance between them. “And I still like you. I keep telling you I like you, but you keep being surprised. Just let me want this, okay?”

He squeezes Eddie’s hand again, watches as those eyelashes flutter slightly with the pressure.

“Last night I said a bunch of stuff you probably don’t remember, and… I kind of don’t remember exactly either, now that I have to say it again?” Steve gives him a sheepish smile. The damn butterflies have stopped doing anything as coherent as tornadoing and are just flying around like lunatics. “Basically, you’re smart and fun and really good with words, which I’m not, but after you kissed me—”

Eddie’s eyes snap up, open wide as they’ll go. “I did what?”

“Shut up, let me finish. I was listening to that new tape you sent me on the way to the party because you make me feel good. Like everything is okay and I can do anything, even talk to you at a party. And I kissed back, by the way, and I really want to do it again now that you’ll remember it, if you still want to. But the point is—” he squeezes Eddie’s hand again “—I like being your sweetheart. I want to keep being that, but with face-to-face privileges this time. As… your boyfriend?”

He’s never seen anyone’s jaw drop outside of cartoons, but that’s what happens. Eddie’s pale cheeks go from pink to outright red, a flush that travels down his neck, and Steve can’t help but wonder how far down it goes. Stupid inside-out shirt that’s in the way now.

“I,” Eddie says weakly. “I think I might pass out.”

“Well, I caught you the first time,” Steve jokes, and only feels a little bad for it when Eddie hides behind his free hand with a groan. And then second thoughts hit. “Um, pass out in a good way though, right?”

“Yes,” Eddie whines behind his palm. He peers out at Steve between his fingers, the hand in Steve’s gripping him back tightly. It makes the butterflies still swarming in Steve’s stomach suddenly feel a lot friendlier. “Fuck, definitely a good way, sweetheart. I was just… really braced for this to not work out, just in case, and instead I just woke up with a boyfriend.” His hand lowers just a bit, pulling a lock of his curly hair over his mouth. “And, apparently, a first kiss with you that I don’t even remember.”

“I can fix that,” Steve says eagerly, leaning forward—just a bit, he’ll wait for the official go-ahead, but god, now he’s focused on Eddie’s plush, bitten lips. He wants to feel them on his again. To feel the sparks, that rightness that he’s been missing since Nancy. The early days with Nancy, anyway… Back when she’d been just as in it as he’d been, before Barb died and monsters started crawling out of the woodwork on a semi-regular basis.

Steve wants.

Eddie looks like he wants too, gaze growing heated as he licks his lips in anticipation, but still his hand and hair are in the way. “I should, uh, brush my teeth…”

“Already did a few hours ago,” Steve assures him with a chuckle. “You used so much toothpaste I thought for sure you’d gag and lose that toast and aspirin I finally got into you, but you insisted on your ‘god-given right to hygiene and tonsil tennis’ and threatened to duel me over it.”

“Jesus H. Christ,” Eddie groans, squeezing his eyes shut briefly. “Can’t believe you’re still here after that.”

Then it seems to occur to him that Steve is still here, and Eddie frees both hands and lunges forward, their mouths connecting just shy of too hard.

Their bodies press together a second later and Steve lets momentum carry him to the mattress, the planes of Eddie’s body overlaying his. One arm goes around Eddie’s waist to keep him close and the fingers of his other hand sink into that sleep-wild mane of curls. The butterflies have dissolved, leaving his heart beating at its cage of still-healing ribs—which Eddie keeps himself propped up on his elbows just enough to not put pressure on. Steve’s lips part in a pleased sigh when he realizes, and it’s equally an invitation to deepen the kiss, his whole body tingling with glee when Eddie immediately accepts.

It’s the opposite of the first time, which had been slow-fast and uncoordinated, desperate. This starts at a hundred miles per hour, even while chaste, and only intensifies as Eddie licks his way into Steve’s mouth. Firm and smooth, and, fuck, Eddie is good at this. Good enough that there’s a little green flicker of jealousy in Steve’s gut, in amidst the red hot coals of excitement, at the thought of Eddie making out with other guys—but he’d picked Steve to write love letters to.

And even though Steve has been the lead when kissing girls, with extremely few exceptions, he’s happy to follow wherever Eddie wants to go.

Just when he’s fighting off the urge to gasp for air, Eddie breaks the kiss without going anywhere, both of them panting against each other’s lips. And then Eddie presses close again and it’s even slower, savoring, tasting. Steve is floating with it, kissing back on pure instinct because everything beneath his skin has gone molten and glowing. He doesn’t have to think, because he’s the one being guided. He’s held in the gentle grasp of Eddie’s hand coming to cradle his cheek; he is loved.

Dear Steve,

I hope this is not untoward; I have not written to you before, nor am I in the habit of writing letters to anyone. But as I’m no stranger to wielding a pen, I hope these words might convey the depth of feeling I hope to—no, that I must convey.

You’ve looked so sad, for months now. It makes my heart ache to comfort you; to smooth the crease between your brows with my thumbs and shield you from the cruel world with its untold horrors. I don’t know if this will help, but I have to try.

You, Steve Harrington, are loved.

We’ve existed in each other’s periphery for years, enough that you might recognize my name or face if I dared to reveal them. For my part, I don’t think a day has gone by since the first time I saw you that you haven’t been on my mind. It’s as though there’s a spotlight in every room; whenever you’re there it always shines on you. I’ve seen from the way you share the contents of your lunch tray without a second thought, the way you work to cheer up your teammates after a bad game or what have you. You’re kind, Steve. While I can’t say I care for some of the company you used to keep, as some of them are real gold star assholes, even with them I could tell that you tended to give more than you took. I grew up without someone like that in my life for a long time, but I’ve come to hold it in the highest regard and you have it.

That’s all, for now. I’m going to slip this in your locker. Maybe I’ll hang around, try to see if any of it makes you smile, because god that’s such a sight. If it does, maybe I’ll write again. Try to break up a little more of that dark cloud hanging over your head, sweetheart. In the meantime, and forevermore, I shall remain—

Your Secret Admirer

Tag list: @hotluncheddie @lawrencebshoggoth @sofadofax @tangerinesteve @oatmilk-vampire

@wheneverfeasible @steviewashere @cryingglightningg @theresebelivett @sleepy-steve

@rozzieroos @lunaraindrop @just-my-latest-hyperfixation @swimmingbirdrunningrock @yesdangerpls

@matchingbatbites @ihavekidneys @p0lybl4nkk @grtwdsmwhr @cheesedoctor

@whalesharksart @thetinymm @envyadams-vs-me @practicallybegging @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme

@dauntlessdiva @nerdyglassescheeseychick @fuzzyduxk @chaosgremlinmunson @greatwerewolfbeliever

@goosesister @dolphincliffs @friendlyneighborhoodgaycousin @beckkthewreck @pitrsattabhaadmeinjao

@kurofuckingshi16 @bookworm0690 @millseyes-world @live-laugh-love-dietrich @the-tenth-mus-e

#steddieweek2024 #scoops words #secret admirer steddie #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #jeff (stranger things)#steddie getting together #heh apparently this is my 2000th post

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minustwofingers · 2 years

Text

exoplanet p. 4.5

second half of exoplanet part 4!

pairing: ellie williams x reader

summary: you’ve won the life lottery as one of the few people on earth with parents who gained admittance to the most prestigous safezone in the world after the outbreak. but after a lab accident sends you out to jackson, wyoming, real life hits you fast. it’s a good thing that a hot lesbian finds u. (lol). mean ellie at first, slowburn, enemies to friends to lovers, fem reader asf

warnings: PLEASE READ! mentions of nsfw content (read at your own risk), violence, explicit language. also a lot of angst. ellie is still kind of a dick but not quite as much.

a/n: haha. isn’t it sooo funny how i said this would come out almost 12 hours later and then i posted it? i need to hit the hay early asf today if im to be frank w you guys so here it is now. i want to thank you all for the sweet and kind messages and comments i’ve been getting—they’ve been fuel for my writing!! also, i’ve got a better idea of how i want to end it now, so i’ve got a pretty good outline for what’s going to happen. expect around 3 more parts (one of which may or may not be an epilogue from ellie’s pov). as always thanks for reading!

part 1

part 2

part 3

part 4.0 (first half of this part)

playlist inspired by exoplanet!!

wc: 6.5k

tags: @prettyplant0 @666findgod @sawaagyapong @rystarkov @buzzybuzzsposts @addisonnie @galacticstxrdust @parkersmyth @pinkazelma @ariianelle @lu002 @blairfox04 @sparkleswonderland @elliesflower

enjoy x

Dina’s sudden reappearance in your life was turning into one of the best things you had going on. When you were done with work, instead of loitering about Joel’s home and hoping to run into Ellie, you’d knock on Dina’s front door and spend your afternoons gossiping and trading stories.

She never asked so explicitly about Ellie again, but you could tell that occasionally she wanted to.

“Guess whose birthday it is this weekend?” asked Dina one day in late April. The Wyoming sun was hung high in the sky, and the weather was steadily becoming warmer. The temperature was stuck at a breezy 60, and a part of you wondered just how hot it would get over the summer.

Terranova rarely ever got over 70 degrees. Would it be hotter than that? Would you even be here to see it?

“Yours?” you guessed casually, pushing away the ever-present question of how long you’d really be in Jackson.

Dina snorted. “No. Not quite. You just missed mine, actually. I’m a December baby.”

“Jesse?”

“No.”

“Joel?”

“Nope.” Her mouth popped on the p.

Your heart thudded. “Uh—Ellie?”

Her face split into a wide grin. “Yes! It’s her 20th. Isn’t that crazy? She’s ancient.”

“Wow!” you said, coaxing faux enthusiasm into your voice.

You and her had kept seeing each other at night, long after Joel had turned in. It always proceeded like clockwork—she’d come knock at your door, you’d fall into her bed, and then you’d leave.

You’d thankfully avoided any of the embarrassing stuff that you’d done the second night—no more unnecessary sensual face touching and whispers of her being a good person. You wanted to, though. There was so much that you ached to tell her, so many words that threatened to spill from your lips that you just barely managed to keep at bay.

The worst part was the way that nothing had really changed between you two beyond what transpired every few evenings in her room. Each morning, you’d wake up knowing that you were in for another day of pretending like she didn’t know what it sounded like when you whined and begged and told her where to touch you. Like you didn’t know how her mouth tasted.

“I want to get her a present,” Dina was saying. “I do something for her every year, but I want this birthday to be a little different—given that she’s made it two decades and all, you know.”

“That’s really thoughtful of you.”

Dina’s eyes sparkled. “I know! Do you want to help? If you do, I’ll tell her it’s from you, too.”

“Actually,” you said, wheels in your head turning, “That would be amazing. I have no idea what I’d get her otherwise.”

“Great.” Dina leaned back, nabbing her backpack from the ground and fishing through it until she produced a map. She unfolded it and began gesturing over the marks. “I found an abandoned bookstore in this area outside of the wall.” She tapped on a dot that she’d made, situated a fair ways away from the wall and on the opposite side of the town as the dam.

“So we’re going shopping?”

Dina laughed. “Yeah. 5 finger discount, too. The only problem is that we might need to kill some baddies to qualify, but once we clear our way, it’s home free.”

“Right,” you said, fear creeping into your bones at the thought of having to fight off the infected. You’d only been on a few patrols since you’d been shot, and each had been totally unnoteworthy. You’d yet to actually shoot your gun at anything. “You—you do know that I’m not actually that good of a patrol partner, right?”

“Don’t worry about it,” said Dina, waving her hand dismissively. “I can take care of us. Plus, we haven’t seen infected in this area for a while. This is a pretty remote area—tough to reach unless you know what you’re looking for.”

“So, when are we going?”

A glimmer appeared in her eye. “Now?”

“Where are you going?”

Ellie stood, her arms crossed as she leaned against the opposite wall. You were grabbing your patrol things, slinging your backpack over your shoulders and pulling on the gray sweatshirt she’d given you.

“Out with Dina,” you said, slightly breathless from moving so quickly. You hadn’t been expecting Ellie to be home—normally she was keeping herself busy picking up extra patrol shifts and helping Joel. It had been an unwelcome surprise to run into her, sour faced and serious while you were trying to get ready.

“Out where?”

You shrugged, trying your best to look nonchalant. “Dina said she wanted to show me something.”

She was silent as you finished lacing up your shoes, but you could see her watching you from the corner of your eyes.

“I’ll be back in time for tonight, if that’s what you’re worried about,” you offered snidely, hardly realizing what you’d said until it had left your lips. It had been a low blow. It had been nasty. You weren’t sure why you’d said it.

“That’s not—” She rubbed the bridge of her nose with her fingers. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I know.” You stood up, feeling deflated. “Sorry. I don’t know why I said that.”

Ellie sent you a tight smile. “It’s fine.”

You walked back to Dina’s feeling heavy. That was how most of your interactions with Ellie seemed to go nowadays—awkward, stiff, and remarkably unfriendly. You weren’t sure what changed. And she was still fucking you, which didn’t make much sense.

Sometimes it felt like she was distancing herself on purpose. But that had to be wrong, because why would she do that? You obviously liked her. She wasn’t the one at risk of being hurt.

You and Dina took off by foot as the sun began to set, well-armed with both weapons and navigational equipment. Well—Dina was, at least. All you had was the small gun Ellie had given you. Dina was doing all of the heavy lifting.

The forest was quiet, interrupted only occasionally by songbirds and the sound of wind rustling through the leaves. Spring had hit Jackson suddenly, the underbrush exploding in volume and flowers blooming everywhere.

As you two walked through the woods, chattering mindlessly and generally enjoying each other’s company, you made a mental reminder to return to the forest to pick up a makeshift bouquet of flowers. Ellie didn’t seem like the type to swoon over things like that, but even the most unromantic people could recognize the gesture of flowers. You were sure she’d at least put them in a vase.

Eventually the path Dina was leading you on opened up to a heavily overgrown street, a small decrepit strip mall hidden away in the shrubbery.

“Here!” said Dina cheerily. She jogged forward, scrubbing the moss off of the door to show a book icon on the filthy glass.

“And you said that there’s no infected here?” you asked, your fingers wrapped nervously around your gun.

“Of course I did,” said Dina. “Do you think I’d take you somewhere that was infested?”

The glass shattered as a body came crashing through the door, thrashing and clicking in a mass of bloody limbs as it took Dina to the ground.

Your finger squeezed the trigger before you could think, sending a spray of gore into the air as Dina forced the thing off of her and stood, panting.

There wasn’t even a chance to breathe. A piercing shriek cut through the air before three more followed the first, not paying any mind to the jagged edges of the broken door that grabbed at their mutilated skin.

“Fuck!” Dina’s knife went swinging through the air, slicing and jabbing at the creatures in front of you. They fell in quick succession, but there was more rustling and screaming from inside. Far too much rustling. “Run!”

She didn’t have to tell you twice. Despite the fact that you’d never been a track star in school, you bolted quicker than you’d even known possible. Your backpack banged against your back as you sprinted down the road, ducking into the brush and making a break for it with Dina right on your tail.

The walk there had taken close to 30 minutes. Your sprint cut that in over half. You and Dina ran in stride, with her lagging behind to send off a few shots to ground the runners that were quick enough to keep up. The clearing you appeared in all the way back in the winter flashed by you in a second, and within another few moments, you were both resting against the wall, chests heaving as you both picked off the stragglers that had come out of the forest to investigate.

By the time the last gunshot rang out and the final infected slumped to the ground, you were shaking uncontrollably, your gun vibrating in your hand.

“Shit, I’m so sorry,” said Dina, equally breathless though significantly more composed as you two walked through the entrance, getting concerned looks from the people who were manning the gate. “I’ve never seen so many in that store before. I don’t understand. It was clear the last time I went.”

Before you could respond, someone stepped into your eye line.

“What the fuck did you do,” seethed Ellie. Her eyes were wild, her lip curled in a manner so derisive you began to wonder if you’d ever actually seen her angry before this.

“Chill, Ellie,” said Dina. “Y/N and I were just going to try and pick something up for your birthday. There were…a few more than what I was expecting. But it’s fine. We handled them. She did great.”

Ellie looked at you then, and you could feel her taking you in. Her eyes rested with accusation at the way that your hands were trembling. “You’re so fucking stupid, Dina. You knew that she’s never done this before. What the fuck is wrong with you, taking her out like that?”

“It was clear the last time I was there!” Dina spoke with her hands, waving them through the air in emphasis.“There wasn’t supposed to be any. I don’t know what to tell you. I didn’t purposefully try to get us killed.”

Ellie sent her another scathing look before turning her attention to you. “And don’t even get me started with you.”

You blinked. “What?”

“What the fuck were you thinking?!” she snapped.

Dina sent you a wink and disappeared down the street in the direction of her house.

“I was thinking of your birthday, actually,” you said delicately. “We were going to get you something from the bookstore.”

“That is not an excuse to go get yourself killed!”

You held up your hands in mock surrender, which looked really stupid considering how hard you were still trembling. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t the original plan. Can we not do this right now? I’m still trying to, uh, process what happened.”

As if to punctuate your point, the next step you took nearly sent you to the ground, your knees wobbling.

Ellie’s hands were at your sides in an instant, solid and steadying against you as you regained your balance.

“Sorry,” you said again, lower this time.

“How many?” Ellie asked. Her voice was softer now, almost resigned. She hadn’t let go yet.

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “After the first three or four, I lost count. They just kept—” You winced at the memory of the wet sound that they made hitting the ground. “They just kept coming.”

“You did them a favor,” said Ellie, stepping back and to your side as you began to walk forward. Her hand stayed posed on your forearm. “It gets easier.”

“I don’t know if I want it to get easier,” you confessed.

“Well, how about you start by never doing something that fucking stupid again.” Her words lacked any venom. “Don’t you ever go out without me again, okay? Do you have any idea what could’ve happened to you?”

You gave your trembling hands a look. “I can take a guess.”

Ellie walked you back to Joel’s house, helping you out of your jacket and unsubtly checking your skin for bites. Or at least that’s what she said she was doing. She couldn’t seem to stop touching you.

You headed back up to your room to get changed as Ellie shut the front door and was off to finish her work with Tommy. As you leisurely made your way down the hallway, you noticed that something was off—the hallway closet was slightly ajar.

The memories of your first night there came floating back to you, images of Ellie shutting the door before you could see inside emerging to the forefront.

It wouldn’t hurt to look, would it? It was probably nothing.

Your hand wrapped tentatively around the handle, pulling the door open so slowly that the old, rusty hinge fell silent.

It wasn’t what you were expecting. It wasn’t what you were expecting at all.

It wasn’t really a closet—there were a few shelves, but no hangers. In their place, there were stacks of textbooks with old, dated covers of the stars, planets, and physics. The back wall was plastered with drawings of constellations and calculations in Ellie’s messy scrawl, reminiscent of the leftover scrap paper from when you sat your physics exams and did your problem sets.

The memory of Ellie staring at your textbook re-emerged to hit you with full force. No wonder she was interested in it. THIS is what she was going to say that she wanted to study when you’d asked her.

A slow smile crept onto your face as you thought about her upcoming birthday.

You knew what you were getting her now.

Preparing for Ellie’s surprise party was a full day’s worth of work. You and Dina had convinced Maria to give Ellie enough things to do that she’d stay out of the house for the majority of the afternoon. You felt kind of guilty that Ellie was being put to work on her birthday of all days, but Dina just shook her head.

“It’s Ellie,” she said. “She lives to act all macho and patrol and shit. This is probably an extra present to her.”

You two had located some flour, sugar, eggs, and butter and were hard at work baking a cake. It was tough going without a real recipe, but you’d grown up with a mother who loved baking, so you tried to do it from memory.

The result was a rather lopsided looking monstrosity that you and Dina had attempted to salvage through the liberal application of the thin icing you’d managed to whip up using milk and powdered sugar. It didn’t work, and you two didn’t wait long enough for the cake to cool before frosting it, so it melted in puddles and made the cake soggy.

“Fantastic work,” said Dina, wiping her hands on her front as you two surveyed the final product. “Really incredible, Y/N. You should really consider a career change.”

“Shut up,” you said, snorting. “Ellie’s gonna hate this.”

“She’s going to think it’s hilarious,” Dina corrected. “I’m sure it can’t taste too bad, right?”

You shivered. “Don’t say that.”

The decorations and gathering of presents were thankfully an easier challenge, and before you knew it Joel’s living room was fixed up to look obnoxious as possible, with a tacky “HAPP BIRTHDAE ELLIE” strung up in blood red reflective plastic (you two couldn’t find any Ys) above the fireplace. “Happy 5th Birthday!” balloons filled the ceiling, their gaudy purple color clashing horrifically with the red of the lettering.

“This is just awful, Dina,” you said. “Ellie’s never going to speak to us again.”

“You need to chill,” Dina responded. “She might act grumpy all of the time, but I know her, and I know she’ll secretly like this.”

7 rolled around quickly, and with it came the guests.

First was the unsurprising Jesse, grinning and carrying a satchel that had a makeshift card attached to the top labeled “Ellie”.

Next came Astrid, Bonnie, and Greg—all of the patrolmen that were roughly around your age. You hadn’t spent all that much time with them, but they’d always been fun.

Last came a girl you’d never seen before.

“Hi!” she said, extending a hand and looking at you through a fringe of choppy black hair.

“Hi!” you said, taking her hand and shaking it once. “I’m Y/N.”

“I know,” she said, her eyes crinkling. “I’m Cat.”

“I can’t believe you two haven’t met before,” said Dina, swooping in to stand beside you. There was something written on her face—something that looked kind of like worry.

“I can’t either!” you said good-naturedly. “How do you know Ellie?”

Dina cringed.

Cat just smiled wider. “Oh. Ellie and I go way back.”

“Cat, why don’t you go help me in the kitchen? I need to finish plating some stuff,” said Dina.

“Sure!” Cat sent you one more winning smile, following Dina with a bounce in her step.

Something felt deeply off about that interaction, but you couldn’t quite put a finger on what it was. You’d never seen Dina so eager to get you away from someone. Maybe it’d just been a coincidence?

You didn’t get a chance to dwell on it further, because Ellie was opening the door.

“Surprise!” Everyone in the living room yelled upon seeing her.

Ellie blanched, her eyes landing on you for a moment before she cast her gaze to the rest of the room. “What’s this?”

“Your birthday party,” said Dina, appearing from the kitchen with a plate of crackers and other appetizers, Cat in tow. “You didn’t think we were just going to let you turn 20 without embarrassing you just a little bit?”

“Those are the most hideous balloons I’ve ever seen,” said Ellie, crossing her arms.

“Thanks,” you said, beaming. “I picked them out myself.”

Much to your surprise, her lips lifted until she was smiling back. “You’re such a loser.”

“Okay!” said Dina, clearing her throat and stepping in between you two. “You two can flirt later. I’ve been slaving away in the kitchen for an entire day. Let’s eat.”

You shut your mouth, blushing uncontrollably as your eyes lifted. Ellie’s cheeks looked uncharacteristically pink and her eyes were fixed on your shoes.

Dinner went by quickly, with everyone trading odd stories about patrolling and their life before Jackson. You learned that Dina had actually been born in New Mexico and that Astrid was from Oregon. You heard all about how Jesse and Greg came across an old mall a few miles out of Jackson that was so full of infected that they could hear them scratching at the doors and clicking even before they were within eyesight of the building. You told some stories about your life in Terranova, about studying and your family.

“What the fuck is this?” asked Ellie once Dina had reappeared, carrying your sorry excuse of a birthday cake. Time had not treated it well. The first layer was almost entirely slid off, and the cake looked damp from the melted icing.

“It’s your birthday cake,” you said. “We, uh, tried. I don’t have a cake recipe memorized, and it was harder than I expected.”

The candles Dina attempted to stick into the cake kept falling out, the structural integrity so weakened from the melted frosting that chunks were coming off.

“Let’s just pretend that there’s 20 candles,” said Dina finally once the top layer of the cake finally split in half.

“Right,” said Ellie, snorting.

Dina led a very enthusiastic rendition of the Happy Birthday song that ended in cheers and hollers as Ellie dramatically lowered her head to the cake and pretended to blow the “candles” out.

No one touched the cake, but you couldn’t blame them.

Next came presents. Jesse went first, giving Ellie a satchel that held a bunch of cleaning equipment for her patrol rifles. Dina had found a t-shirt that said “Enemy of the State” in goofy comic sans lettering, and Ellie was unsuccessful in holding back her giggles at seeing it.

“Dina, this is so stupid,” she said, but there was no venom in her tone, just amusement.

It was your turn next, so you leaned across the table to place the small box in front of her.

“Please tell me you didn’t almost die getting this one,” said Ellie, giving you a suspicious look.

“Not at all,” you said. “I accidentally brought it from Terranova.”

Her nimble fingers untied the flimsy ribbon you’d haphazardly wrapped around the tiny brown box, lifting the lid off and peering inside.

“It’s a…rock?” Ellie frowned, pulling it out and holding it in her hand.

“You got her a rock for her birthday?” Cat asked you from her position to your right, her eyebrows raised.

“It’s not just a rock,” you said. “It’s a moon rock. Like, from the moon.”

Ellie froze, her eyes saucers as she stared at the rock balanced in her palm. “What?”

“I told you I studied astrophysics,” you said casually. “One of my professors let me borrow it because my research supervisor wanted to take a look at it, so it was in my bag. And I never had the chance to give it to him, obviously. So it’s yours now.”

“Holy fuck.” She turned in over, her fingers running across the surface. “This is…wow. Oh my god.”

“That’s so cool, dude,” Jesse said. “Like, insane. I didn’t even know that those were a thing.”

“There’s only a couple in the world,” you added. “And even fewer that are still reachable. The rest are…well, out here somewhere. Terranova only has a few from our own expeditions and the professors who managed to grab what they had when they moved.”

“This one’s from me,” said Cat, leaning forward and placing an envelope in front of Ellie. “It’s not as cool as a moon rock, but I thought you’d like it.”

Her fingers slid under the tongue of the envelope, ripping it open and pulling a piece of paper out.

“Good for one more free tattoo,” Ellie read out.

Cat sat back, looking awfully pleased with herself.

“Cat was the one who gave Ellie the one on her arm,” Dina explained to you.

A memory pricked at your consciousness, dating back to your first patrol with Ellie.

An ex had given her the tattoo on her arm.

The girl who had given her tattoo was Cat.

Cat was her ex.

That makes so much sense you realized with horror as you remembered how Cat had told you so confidently that she and Ellie went way back. Of course they did. They used to date.

“Where’d you go?” asked Dina, bumping your shoulder.

“Sorry,” you said, rubbing the bridge of your nose. “Just, uh, tired.”

When you looked up, Ellie’s eyes were on you, her lips slightly quirked.

You looked away, instead focusing on the placemats that Dina had set out. Cat was so different from you—so peppy, so confident, so loud. No wonder Ellie didn’t want anything more than what you had now. Whatever Ellie had seen in Cat had nothing to do with you.

The night ended with you all sitting on the couches in the living room with Dina mixing drinks so strong that you were wondering if she was trying to kill you.

“Jesus Christ, Dina,” you said as you watched her pour. “What is that? 90 percent vodka?”

“I prefer to call it efficient,” Dina corrected.

It burned going down your throat and you fought back a cough as you placed your glass back on the coffee table. Ellie was right next to you, her thigh barely brushing against yours as you moved.

Cat was on the other side of the room, seated next to Jesse and Astrid. You were internally very proud that Ellie had chosen to sit next to you instead. Her arm rested on the back of the couch behind you, and even though it couldn’t have meant all that much, you couldn’t help but wonder if it at least meant something.

You were just halfway through your cup by the time you started to feel really and properly sloshed. Your voice sounded tinny in your ears, and from the way that Ellie was laughing at anything anyone said, you had a sneaking suspicion that she was somewhere around where you were.

It wasn’t long before everyone had excused themselves and wished Ellie a final happy birthday—it was getting late and quite a few had early shifts the next day.

Dina was the last to go, saying goodbye and sending you another look as she pointedly stared at the arm rested behind you.

For a few minutes, you and Ellie just sat in silence, hearing the fire crackle and the sound of her softly breathing.

Then she spoke.

“How did you know that I’d like the moon rock?”

“Oh.” You blushed. “Don’t be mad. You left the closet door open the other day—you know, the one with all your space textbooks and everything. It was an educated guess.”

“So nosy,” she tutted.

“But you do like the rock?”

She smiled. “Yes. Thank you.”

You reached forward and polished off the rest of the drink that Dina had made you, feeling the liquid fire slide down your throat and settle in your stomach.

When you turned back, you could see Ellie staring at you, her auburn hair glowing in the firelight, her pupils blown wide, and her eyes slightly unfocused. She’d had more than one of the drinks that Dina had made, and it was really showing.

“You’re so pretty.”

You froze. Out of all the things you expected her to say, that was nowhere on the list. The words had left Ellie’s lips like a compulsion, raw and honest.

She hadn’t stopped looking at you, but her eyes were wider, her cheeks red. She hadn’t meant to say it, you realized. Now she was embarrassed and flustered, and it was all because of you.

It was the boldness of being tipsy that made you move towards her, pulling your legs up until you were seated on your knees in front of her.

Ellie didn’t move apart from wetting her lips, her eyes darting from your eyes to your mouth.

When you kissed her, she melted into you. The arm that had been draped over the couch behind you dropped to your back, your own hands sliding into her hair and tightening at the back of her neck.

She gasped as she felt your nails scrape against her, and you took the opportunity to lick into her open mouth, tasting the vodka on her tongue as it slid against yours.

To your surprise, her hands didn’t creep up your shirt or dip below the waist of your pants. They stayed static, one glommed onto your back while the other clutched your jaw as she let you kiss her, over and over again.

You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but there was something about it that felt different than your usual nighttime meetups. It felt more—vulnerable, almost, that Ellie was kissing you just to kiss you, not with some other agenda.

The grandfather clock chimed, indicating that it was almost midnight. You pulled away from her for a second, panting as you caught your breath. A string of saliva suspended between your lips, snapping as you waved a hand through it and flushed.

“Sorry,” you whispered.

She just smiled.

“Is Joel going to be back soon?”

As if to punctuate your point, the front door banged open, the man in question pulling his jacket off and turning to see you both. You’d thankfully managed to get off her lap before he saw.

“Oh!” he said, his eyebrows nearly touching his hairline. “I wasn’t expecting you two to still be awake.”

“Uh, yeah,” said Ellie, scratching the back of her neck. “We’ve just been…talking.”

“Good party?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m glad. Tommy and Maria wish you a happy birthday, by the way. Though I’m sure you knew that.”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

“Well,” said Joel, giving a sigh that only old men could recreate, “I’m off to bed. You two don’t stay up too late, huh? You’ve still got work tomorrow.”

“Goodnight,” you two chorused.

Once Joel had disappeared into his room, you turned to look at her.

“That was close.”

“Yeah.” Ellie laughed nervously, picking at her cuticles. “Um—do you want to move somewhere else?”

Something deep in your chest ached. Sure, you’d be okay with spending another hour or so feeling her hands on you as she made you finish, but a part of you had really liked just touching her for the sake of touching her—kissing her just because you could.

“Sure,” you said. “Just give me a chance to change.”

When you knocked after switching into more comfortable clothes, the door swung open to reveal a significantly more nervous looking Ellie than you’d seen in a while.

“Hi,” you said shyly.

“Hi.”

You stepped into her, pressing a tentative kiss to the corner of her mouth. When she didn’t react, you pulled back.

“Is everything okay?”

“Do you want to stay over?” Ellie blurted out, her eyes wide and afraid.

You balked. “Uh, what?”

“You don’t have to,” she said, her eyes dropping to the ground. “I’m sorry. I know we’re not like that. I just thought that—maybe, I dunno, just this once—”

“Yes,” you interrupted. “Please. I’d really like that.”

“Right. Good. Okay.” She took a deep breath, then laced her fingers through yours to lead you to her bed.

When your mouth found hers again, it was just like on the couch—no intentionally rough or overtly sexual touches, just gentle brushes against your skin and the weight of fingers tangled in your hair as she pulled you further into her.

For the first time since you confessed, you didn’t sleep together. When you two finally tired out, you flopping down on the pillow first, Ellie’s head came to rest on the expanse of skin between your shoulder and your neck, your arms coming around her.

It was strange. For someone so deadly and tough, Ellie suddenly looked so small and fragile curled against you, the rise and fall of her chest synchronized with your breathing.

“I’m sorry Cat was invited,” Ellie said, her voice muffled from where her face was pressed into your neck.

“What do you mean?”

“I should have told you what her name was. That must’ve been a nasty surprise.”

Her foresight and understanding made your heart ache, deeply. How was it that she could say all these things but not want anything more with you?

“It was alright,” you said. There was no conviction in your tone. “I wouldn’t have expected you to tell me.”

Ellie was silent for a few beats. You knew she was thinking, though; you could feel the flutter of her lashes against you as she blinked.

“How long do you think it’ll take for you to forget me?”

You paused. “What? What do you mean?”

Ellie shifted against you, one of her arms draped over your chest. “I mean, when you go back.”

“Ellie,” you chided, bringing your hand up so you could run your fingers through her hair. “Don’t be ridiculous. As if I’d ever just leave you behind. If I go back there, I’m finding some way to bring you with me. So, no. That’s not even a valid question. I’m never forgetting you.”

In truth, you hadn’t even begun to consider what you’d do if—when—you were found. You’d been so focused on trying to fit into your new life here that your past had largely just faded into the back, shrinking in the horizon. What you did know, at least, was that even in some dystopian future without Ellie, she’d never be off of your mind.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

“I’m not,” you replied, tapping her shoulder. “I mean it. You’re stuck with me.”

Her diaphragm vibrated as she let out a short laugh. “Oh, the horrors.”

She fell silent as you kept threading your fingers through her hair, letting your nails scrape against her scalp. The hand that wasn’t draped over your chest had crept up, her thumb rubbing back and forth as she traced the outline of your jaw.

“I’m sorry,” she said suddenly. “I can be such a sad drunk sometimes. It’s pathetic.”

“It’s okay,” you soothed, your other hand lightly dancing up and down her back. “I think it’s sweet.”

She snorted. “You would.”

Then, after a few more seconds of silence: “You really weren’t jealous?”

“I never said that.”

“So she did make you jealous?”

You flicked her shoulder. “Fuck off. Of course she did. Happy?”

“Thrilled.”

A few moments later, she spoke up again.

“Can you promise me something?” Her voice was deceptively casual.

“Anything.” You’d give her anything she wanted.

“Promise me that you’ll take the first opportunity to go home,” she said softly. “Promise you won’t do anything stupid.”

“I’ll take the first opportunity to go home as long as I get to have you around, too.”

You couldn’t see it, but you knew she was rolling her eyes. “Not good enough.”

“You want me to leave that badly?” You weren’t sure if you should be hurt.

“Of course not,” she responded. “I just...I don’t expect you to wait around here for me. I don’t want you to. I want you to be safe.”

“I feel safe with you.”

“Will you just—fucking—say you’ll go?” Her voice sounded raw, tired.

“Fine,” you said. “I promise.”

Your words were empty. You couldn’t promise her that. She had to know that. But would it matter? If you never had to make that choice?

In retrospect, you weren’t sure when you drifted off. All you remembered was the warmth of Ellie gathered up in your arms, her measured breath blowing across your exposed neck as you felt the slow, marching rhythm of her heart.

When you awoke to the early morning sunbeams streaming in through the window and warming your face, Ellie was passed out cold on top of you. A few unruly strands of her auburn hair had ruffled upwards overnight, sticking to your cheek and threatening the seams of your lips.

You’d never been happier.

As you thought, running your hand gently up and down the length of her spine, Ellie’s breath hitched.

You froze, thinking you must have woken her.

Then she made a quiet snort. She took another deep breath in, whistling as it went. Her next exhale was louder and caught in her nose.

You did your best not to laugh enough to wake her.

Ellie snored, even though she wasn’t that loud. The part of you that was still intimidated by her was shrinking by the minute. If only you had known in the beginning that after a long day of bullying you she went back to her room to honk shoo the night away, you never would’ve let it bother you.

She jolted awake, blinking rapidly as she pulled away and looked up at you.

“What the fuck are you laughing about?” she said groggily. “It’s—” She twisted in your arms, squinting at her desk. “It’s 6 in the fucking morning. Shut up.” With that, she flopped back down on top of you, laying one arm over your torso so she could shove it the space under the pillow beside your head.

“You shut up,” you heard yourself say.

Ellie smacked your shoulder, not even bothering to lift her head.

“You snore,” you said, quieter this time.

“I don’t.”

“You literally do. I was there when it happened.”

She was silent for a few moments. “Really?”

You pressed your lips to her forehead instead as you trembled from the laugh you were doing your best to rein in.

“Oh, god,” groaned Ellie. “That’s so embarrassing.”

“I thought it was cute.”

“You think everything I do is cute.”

“And what about it?”

You settled back in, wrapping your arms around Ellie as you tried to drift back off.

“Do you hear that?”

Her voice was whispered.

“Hear what?”

“That sound.”

You let go of her and sat up, your eyes unfocused as you tried your best to tune into whatever Ellie was talking about. Out of the corner of your vision you could see her staring at you with big, nervous eyes.

It took you a moment to notice it. No one could blame you, really. It was hardly a rarity to hear the sound of a plane when you grew up in Terranova.

“That’s a plane, Ellie,” you said, reaching out to cup her face. “It’s fine.”

“A plane?” She frowned, still blinking bleariness out of her eyes. “I’ve never heard one before. Joel told me that they stopped being used after the government officially fell.”

“That’s not true,” you corrected. “There’s some in—”

A puzzle piece clicked into place, and with it came a sense of underlying dread. But you shouldn’t be dreading it. It’s what you were hoping for after all, weren’t you? What you’d been praying for since you’d arrived?

“Let’s go outside and look,” you said, nudging her side. “I’m sure it’s nothing.” You were hoping it was nothing.

Ellie followed you, pulling a throw blanket from her bed and draping it around her shoulders like a cape. She looked so cute like that. You wanted to bite her. Not, like, in a weird blood kink way. Just in a…you didn’t know how to describe it. Better leave it there.

A lump formed in your throat.

Maybe you were wrong. Maybe this had nothing to do with you.

The air was tepid and pleasant against your bare skin as you two quietly opened the front door and crept onto the porch. The town was quiet. No one was awake at this hour, not unless they were down by the stables or doing night watch.

There was a sliver of pink and orange hanging over the tops of the mountains, no doubt remnants of what had been a spectacular sunrise. There were still snowy caps on the highest peaks. You hadn’t known that mountains could stay so cold for so long until you’d come to Jackson.

The lump in your throat grew larger.

“Shit,” said Ellie, leaping down from the porch and onto the road. “Do you see this?”

The plane was no longer in sight, but the swirling papers that hadn’t been on the road the night before were left as evidence.

“They must’ve dropped them,” said Ellie excitedly, snatching one from the ground and bounding back up the steps so she was next to you. “What do you think this says?”

You smiled sadly. “Why don’t you read it?”

She unfolded the envelope, ripping open the top and dumping the contents out in her hand.

“Oh.”

It was a picture of you. It’d been taken months prior at your family’s Christmas party. You’d worn glittery silver eyeliner and curled your hair. The upper half of your body was in view, clad in a rich red fabric that landed right below your collarbones. A string of creamy white pearls were clasped around your neck, matching the teardrop pearls that hung delicately from your ears.

HAVE YOU SEEN HER?

There was no other text, but you did notice a divet at the top right corner in the shape of a small oval.

Terranovan security. Of course.

Wordlessly, you pressed your thumb into the mold, holding it there for a second as the parchment recorded your print.

Then a paragraph formed at the bottom, ink slowly leaking into the paper.

COME TO THE COORDINATES LISTED BELOW AT EXACTLY NOON, MAY 15TH. A LIFT WILL BE WAITING TO ESCORT YOU.

You’d been found.

final a/n: sorry not sorry this was the original cliffhanger that i was planning for part 4 all along. you guys are incredible for still sticking around and reading even though this is getting lengthy as hell. anyway i hope you guys enjoyed this sort of different side of ellie before we reach the final act. the plot is abt to reach its peak and i’m hellaaa excited to share it with you. okok let me know what you think! it might take me around the same time it took me to finish part 4 to get part 5 out considering how sick i am/how much i have on my plate, but i promise it’s coming :))

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams imagine #ellie williams self insert #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x oc

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aurorawritestoescape · 21 days

Note

Surprise self-rec time! Pick 3 things you’ve written that you are most proud of/were the most challenging to write and share them here, then if you’re so inclined (no pressure) put this in the inbox (anonymously or not) of your fellow writers to spread the positivity and help celebrate everyone’s hard work 😘😘

Thank you for the ask, baby!😘I talked about my favorites here so I’ll focus on the most challenging stories now🩷

🌺 Good Girl - Professor Joel Miller x f!reader.

Summary: you get caught in the rain on your way to Professor Miller’s house and your lesson gets derailed.

I spent the longest time writing and editing this fic and the story was constantly changing in my head. The initial idea was actually a non-con fic which is insane, considering that in the end I wrote my softest Joel ever. It was also challenging bc I expressed a lot of my own fears and thoughts through reader and as a result I felt quite vulnerable, posting it. I’m happy and grateful that the story received positive feedback and became my most popular fic which was my biggest surprise🙏🥹

🌺 Addicted - Max Phillips x f!reader

Summary: Max gives you everything you need but can you stop when the pleasure gets addictive?

It took part in @iamasaddie ‘ Kinky May challenge and got Max (love you, Aly😘) I’d never written him before that and I had many many MANY ideas, started writing three different fics but none of them was THE ONE. For a week all my thoughts were about Max, frankly I was going insane😅 But one night I listened to Tear you apart by She Wants Revenge and it all came to me- the vibes, the story, the characters. I wrote it in one night and finally could breathe again😄

🌺 Part 6 of Bad Blood - step uncle Joel Miller x f!reader x stepdad Tommy Miller

Summary: a month after Joel exposed your relationship with Tommy, the Miller brothers pay you a visit and your feelings come to the surface.

I should start by saying that unfortunately I’m not good with series. Both writing and reading. I’m a one shot girlie through and through. That’s why I’m extra proud that I wrote the final part of this/any series. (yes, there’s also gonna be an epilogue👀) Part 6 wasn’t easy to write. The love the series has got and keeps getting makes me very happy but I felt pressure, writing the chapter, bc I didn’t want to disappoint my readers. I hope I didn’t❤️

And I’d love to add that I wouldn’t be able to overcome all my fic writing troubles if not for my twin, my love, my most supportive beta @milla-frenchy 😍😍😍 She has to listen to my whining daily so I’m sending her a big Joel hug and a Javi forehead smooch🫂😘

Also 💖thank you💖 to all my readers for all the love and support!🥹 If it were an Oscar speech they’d start playing me off by now😅 LOVE y’all!

#ask💕#self rec #pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #max phillips #tommy miller x reader #bad blood series #pedro pascal characters #max phillips x reader

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jessicaloons · 27 days

Text

E P I L O G U E - Invisible String

Masterlist - Previous

Hello lovely people, here it is, the Epilogue. Instead of a classic epilogue you’ll get to join Lizzie and Charles in their life together through the years.

I hope you enjoy reading this final part of Invisible String as much as I enjoyed writing it. The whole journey of Lizzie and Charles meant so much to me, finishing it is heartbreaking but relieving at the same time. I know I sent you in for a looong ride with lots of ups and downs with this one and I thank every single one of you who stayed from the very beginning to end now. But also everyone who joined in along the ride, thank you! And to the people who just recently started reading, thank you for taking time out of your day to start reading over 50 chapters of a fic, that started over a year ago! I loved every single interaction with you guys, the comments, reblogs, chats and anons, thank you so much for showing me/my story so much love!

There are a lot of people to thank, starting with my bestie who first was mildly confused by the fact that I was writing fan fiction, but then become obsessed and hated me when I hurt her precious baby boos (her words!) and literally gobsmacked me once or twice, when my "torturing went too far".

My lovely boyfriend fiancé who I met while being in the middle of writing this amazing story, who supported me and even read my story because he was curious, starting to get super invested in it.

And last, but definitely not least, a H U G E thank you to the person, without who this story wouldn’t even exist. Thank you, thank you, thank you @elisysd for not only writing my favourite fanfics, but also for motivating me to write and release my own! Thank you for being my torture partner in crime, thank you for always helping me out with title names, thank you for reading my new ideas, motivating me to continue and develop them into new stories. Thank you for all the conversations about our stories, new ideas, talks about the races, our shared views on certain people, and the talks about what is going on in the crazy whirlwind that is our life’s! I’m so very grateful that I found Cruel Summer (if you haven’t read it till now, DO IT! My favourite fic out there!) last year and that you started a chat with me, because life hasn’t been the same since then. So one final thank you, for literally EVERYTHING ♥️

And now I wrote enough! Some little blurbs, social media posts and a lot of time jumps are ahead, buckle in and let’s f****** goooo!

10th May 2026:

"Shhh Emmie, we don’t want to wake up mummy now, do we?" I whispered, tickling her tummy "I’m almost done, little princess."

I placed everything on the tray, and tried to lift it with one hand, before I picked up Emmie, making my way to our bedroom. Lizzie was still fast asleep, Arlo at the foot of our bed sitting up, looking at Emmie and me.

"Be a good boy." I looked at him and he laid back down, making no sound "Alright…" I sat down the tray on my side of the bed before I pushed the button to open up the shades, letting in the sun, a little groan letting me know that Lizzie wasn’t liking the light intrusion. Pulling the blanket over her head was the second indicator.

"Way too early…" she mumbled and I had to chuckle, Emmie clapping happily.

"It’s not that early…" I climbed into bed, Emmie in my lap, pulling the tray over.

"Everything before 9 is too early." Lizzie yawned, slowly scrambling up, her hair dishevelled. She took in Emmie and me, a big smile slowly spreading over her face "Good morning my beautiful baby girl." she cooed and our little one wriggled out of my lap, crawling over to her mum, cuddling into her side "Hi Emmie." Lizzie picked her up, cradling her to her chest, kissing her cheek, making our little girl giggle.

"Happy Mother’s day, cara mia." I smiled at them, pulling the tray close and turned a little to grab the bouquet of flowers from my night stand.

Lizzie made big eyes, looking from the breakfast on the tray, to the flowers in my hand to Emmie in her arms.

"Oh Charles… this is… this is wonderful." she whispered, leaning over, brushing her soft lips against mine "I honestly forgot about it… Oh god our mums!" she panicked a little and I cupped her cheek.

"They both get a beautiful bouquet and a bottle of the nicest champagne delivered today. Don’t worry. I talked to them, because I wanted to spend today with you and Emmie… it’s your first Mother’s day after all. Today is special." I smiled at her and she looked at me, glassy eyes and pink cheeks.

"You’re amazing…" she whispered and leaned in, kissing my cheek.

"It wasn’t just me, Emmie helped as well…" I said and Lizzie giggled, looking at our little girl, sitting in her lap and looking up at her with big eyes, smile on her face, eating everything up her mum said.

"You’re amazing too, Emmie." she kissed her chubby cheek.

"Ready to eat something?" I asked and she nodded.

"I’m actually starving."

"Perfect, because I made a lot…" I pulled the tray closer and Lizzie’s eyes widened.

"Watching Jamie Oliver and Gordon Ramsay made a real chef out of you…" she chuckled, grabbing a strawberry "Daddy is spoiling us, baby girl."

"Just wait for dinner and dessert." I wiggled my eyebrows, wiping some strawberry juice from Emmie’s chin.

"Ouhhh, I can’t wait!" Lizzie mumbled, looking through the options of food, while I fed Emmie another Strawberry.

"I was thinking we could do a little boat tour today, but because of the race next week it’s so full everywhere, I don’t want to navigate through it with you two…" I said, playing with Emmie while Lizzie munched on her cheese omelette.

"It’s Emmie’s first home race." Lizzie looked up from her plate, gently pinching Emmie’s cheek "You’ll see daddy race here in Monaco, baby girl. Daddy and his Ferrari."

"Rar-… rari…" Emmie babbled and I dropped the melon slice in my hand, Lizzie almost choking on her orange juice.

"Did she just?" I looked at Lizzie, her big blue orbs staring at our daughter "Princess did you just try to say Ferrari?" I picked her up, looking into her gorgeous face.

"Rari…" Emmie repeated, clapping happily.

"Oh my god Charles! Her first word is Ferrari! Well… almost… but oh my god!” Lizzie cheered "Emmie, baby girl, say Ferrari. Fer-ra-ri…"

"I don’t think it’s that easy, cara mia, you can’t just say a word and sh-…" I began but had to swallow my own words.

"Fr- fri-" Emmie chortled.

"Almost baby girl. Fer-ra-ri…" Lizzie tried again.

"Fr-rari…"

"Yes! You did it!" I chimed, littering Emmie’s chubby cheeks with kisses "My little genius baby girl! Ferrari! Your first word is Ferrari! Can you say 'Forza Ferrari'?"

"Okay, now you’re just reaching." Lizzie chuckled, but I ignored her.

"Fr-rari…" Emmie giggled when I kissed her nose "Fr-rari…"

"You’re just jealous that her first word was Ferrari, not Audi!" I smirked and Lizzie rolled her eyes "My precious little princess! I can’t wait to tell everyone about it!"

I cradled her to my chest, kissing her hair and she giggled happily. Lizzie leaned over, tucking some loose strands of her out of Emmie’s face, smiling at her, kissing her cheek.

"You want to try to say 'Audi'? Au-di…" she whispered and I pulled Emmie away.

"What are you doing, cara mia?" I laughed and she sat up, shrugging her shoulders.

"It was worth a try…"

"Even if she would say Audi, which is a way easier name by the way, so… unfair… but okay, her first word would still be Ferrari!" I looked at her and she was pouting a little, my eyes fell on her plush lips, before I looked in her eyes again.

"What about… we finish breakfast, put Emmie down and then we’re having a thorough discussion about what our baby’s first word was?" her voice sultry, lashes fluttering.

"Mhhh that does sound pretty good to me…" I leaned over, capturing her lips in a steamy kiss, biting her bottom lip a little when I pulled away "But it won’t change the fact that our baby girls first word was Ferrari…"

"Fr-rari!" as if on cue Emmie chimed in and I laughed against Lizzie’s lips, a soft smile on them.

"Ferrari it is…" she sighed.

"Ferrari it is…" I laughed.

"Fr-rari!"

7th September 2026:

"Food?"

"Check."

"Drinks?"

"Check."

"Decoration?"

"Check."

"Birthday cake?"

Silence. So I repeated it again.

"Birthday cake?"

"Umm-…"

"Charles! That was the most important thing! You said you would pick it up! I can’t believe you!" I groaned, walking inside, stopping dead in my tracks, the birthday cake sitting on top of the table.

"Birthday cake? Check." Charles chuckled and I puffed out some air.

"So not funny…" I rolled my eyes.

"Sorry, I had to, because someone is panicking a little… it’s going to be just fine cara mia!" Charles pulled me into him, kissing my cheek "Emmie won’t even remember this day, okay? Relax a little, pretty girl."

"Who says that she won’t remember today?" I cocked an eyebrow and Charles sighed.

"Are you serious? No one remembers their first birthday…"

"It’s just… I want this to be perfect…" I said quietly and he rubbed his hands up and down my sides "She’s one Charles, can you believe it? One!"

"Yeah… the last year went by in a blur… one day she was still in your belly the next we’re already celebrating her first birthday…" he replied and I looked around.

"We should take a picture of her. Before everyone is here and she’s too excited to sit still for a moment… just her, a balloon or two, her cake?" I said and Charles nodded.

"I set up a back ground and you get our little princess ready?" he said and I nodded, walking off, but then I stopped, turning around "You forgot something?"

"Yup…" I cupped his cheeks and kissed him "Thank you, for always calming me down… I love you."

"I love you more…" he whispered against my lips and I smiled "Now, get our little princess…"

I walked downstairs, opening quietly the door to Emmie’s room, pushing the button for the shades to open. I smiled when I saw that she was already awake, sitting in her bed, gorgeous smile on her little face.

"Hi baby girl, look at your little smiley face…" I cooed, leaning down and picking her up.

"Mama…" she said, her voice sweet like honey.

"Ready for your party?" I asked, sitting her down and she clapped happily "Yeah? You know that everyone is coming to see you?"

"Evy-one?" she repeated slowly and I nodded, brushing her wild hair.

"Everyone, that means… pops and gammy, granny as well. Your aunties Sissy, Charlotte and Shima. And of course your uncles Lorenzo, Joris, Daniel, Arthur-…"

"Tur!" she said excitedly almost jumping off the changing table.

"Yeah, Uncle Arthur is coming. And of course Liam and Noah." I smiled at her, kissing her cheek "Alright let’s dress you up and then go and find daddy?"

"Dada!"

"Yes, dada."

After putting her hair in a tiny bun, or rather a little palm, on the top of her head, dressing her into a cute dress I picked Emmie up, walking upstairs, where Charles arranged in the corner a little photo background.

"Oh look at my gorgeous girl! Hi princess." he cooed at her and she leaned over to him and Charles grabbed her, holding her close to his chest "Is that okay?" he looked at me and I nodded.

"I’ll go and get the cake…"

I watched Charles putting Emmie down, playing a little with our girl, and had to smile. He was born to be a father, like I always said. I took some pictures of them before I walked over, setting the cake down in front of Emmie.

"You have to watch her closely… I don’t want a foot in the cake… or hands…"

"I’ll take care, don’t worry…" Charles smiled "Ready?" he looked at me and I nodded, then he let go of Emmie and I took some photos.

"Alright. I think I’ve got it…" I showed Charles the results and he beamed at me.

"Perfect. Now let’s get ready for the party. They should all be here in the next minutes…"

And he was right, not even 20 minutes later the living room was full with our family and we gathered around, singing Happy Birthday for the very first time for Emmie.

February 2027:

"Charles Marc Hervé Perceval Leclerc! Are you serious?!" I sighed and Charles looked sheepishly at me.

"It looked so cute and I thought she doesn’t have one yet…" he said and tried to soften me with his smile.

"Charles! Her room slowly turns into the Ark of Emmie! She has a whole petting zoo full of stuffed animals!" I said as Charles crouched down and handed our toddler the stuffed panda bear. Emmie took it in her arms and cuddled it tight.

"Look! She loves it! As long as she loves it! Cara mia, she’s my pretty princess! Spoiling her is basically my job!" he said and I rolled my eyes.

"I used to be your pretty princess…" I fake pouted and Charles grabbed me by the waist and pulled me into him.

"Oh mon amour, you’re my beautiful queen! And she is our pretty little princess!" he said and kissed me tenderly.

"Mhhh I like the sound of that… my king…" I whispered against his lips, then kissed him again and pushed myself off of him gently. I walked away but stopped in the door "No more toys, Charles! She’s not even 1.5 years old and has already more stuff than 3 toy stores combined!" with that I walked out of the room, but I stayed in the hallway.

"You heard what our queen said, little princess. No more toys for you officially… but rest assured, I’ll bring you more, but that’s our secret!" Charles whispered and Emmie laughed and clapped excitedly.

"CHARLES!" I shouted.

"Oh shit…" he exclaimed.

"Oh shit…" Emmie repeated and I stormed back into her play room "Oh shit, mama. Oh shit, dada!"

"I’m so, so sorry!" Charles said and I glared at him.

"Mami? Dada a stupi io?" Emmie smiled at me and Charles looked flabbergasted.

"Emmie!" I sighed and Charles started grinning.

"No curse words in front of the baby girl I thought, cara mia? What happened to that rule?" he cocked an eyebrow and grinned at me.

"Someone was cutting the line…" I whispered.

"Road rage… I get it." he laughed and then picked up Emmie and pulled me in his arms too "My queen and my princess… I don’t know what I did to deserve this kind of magnificent luck…" he whispered and kissed my temple first and then Emmies cheek, she smiled her almost toothless smile, dimples showing just like her dads.

Bahrain 2027:

"Season opener for the husband on Sunday, charity race for you today with said husband, Max Verstappen, Lewis Hamilton, Jamie Chadwick, Doriane Pin, Maya Weug, Abbi Pulling, Carrie Schreiner and Bianca Bustamate. Excited to be back in the car?" Natalie asked Lizzie who smiled her most beautiful smile.

"Very excited. It’s only 10 laps, so I should be good, but yeah I trained a little with Charles the last weeks and I really hope that I’ll make it." she chuckled.

"First time little Emmie see’s her mummy race, how excited is she?"

"She made huge eyes when she saw me in the race suit and at the seat fitting she pulled at Charles leg and pointed at me, asking why I’m in the car and not he." Lizzie recalled and I had to laugh, thinking about Emmie’s face yesterday.

"So she’s talking now?"

"We’re getting there… but yeah, everyday a little more… if she’s like her dad, she won’t stop talking in no time…"

"It’s good to have you back here, Lizzie. All the best for the little family and of course good luck in the race later! And if I might say that, kick some asses in good old Lizzie fashion." Natalie smiled.

"Thanks, I’ll try my best, I promise!" Lizzie hugged her and walked off, a big smile on her face.

"So I’m the one talking too much?" I cocked an eyebrow and she laughed, kissing my cheek.

"But I love it when you’re talking…"

"Yeah, yeah… let’s go. The race will start soon…" I said, taking her hand, intertwining our fingers.

"It will be fine, you don’t have to worry…" she said, squeezing my hand a little.

"I know… it’s just- it was a risk that you finished your season 2 years ago… and now getting back in the car…" I sighed and she stopped.

"Charles, it’s only 10 laps… I’ll be fine, don’t worry! We talked with the doctor, I’m prepared, we did a lot of workouts-…"

"Mhh… that we did. I liked that." I whispered and she blushed, pinching my side.

"Get your head out of the gutter! We’re racing in 30 minutes!" she rolled her eyes playfully and I laughed.

"Prepare to lose, cara mia."

"Nope. I’m going to kick your ass. All my girls will kick your ass…" she smiled and I pulled her close, kissing her.

"May the best driver win…"

"So Max should win?" she cocked an eyebrow and I pinched her waist.

"Hey!" I pouted and she laughed.

"Let’s go, world champ."

"Did you let her win, because she’s your wife? Be honest." Max wiggled his eyebrows and I laughed.

"Yeah sure and never hear the end of it at home? How she beat me? Definitely not! You couldn’t catch up to her as well!" I looked at him and he scratched his chin.

"Maybe it’s better for us that she’s not in F1 anymore…" he shrugged.

"Yeah, I’m kinda getting used to winning titles." I joked and Max pushed me playfully.

"Yeah, yeah, Ferrari boy. Hold your horses, I’m this close of snatching the title away from you."

"Sure thing, slow bull."

"Ouch, what kind of conversation do I interrupt here?" Lizzie walked up to us and I pulled her in, kissing her gently.

"We just established that we’re pretty damn happy that you’re not in F1 anymore… we like winning and against you… well never mind." Max said and Lizzie laughed.

"Oh you poor boys… maybe I should give Felix a call." I chuckled and Charles shook his head, laughing.

"Please don’t."

"We’ll see." she laughed, walking off when Susie waved her over.

"But in all honesty, this was fun, we should do this more often." Max said as we walked back to the garages and I nodded.

"Definitely. It’s fun and for a good cause, we really-…" I began when a tiny little whirlwind in red ran towards me.

"Papa! Papa!" Emmie’s bright voice made everyone looking for the source of the adorable sound "Uppy!" she stopped in front of me, making grabby hands and puppy eyes.

"Hey my baby girl, you shouldn’t be running around here all alone." I picked her up and she immediately grabbed my face between her chubby, little hands.

"Pop!" she screeched and turned my head to the side, Juergen wiping his eyebrow, sighing relieved.

"And you shouldn’t make Pop sweat like that!" I booped her nose and she started to giggle hysterically, turning her head a little, stopping abruptly when she spotted Max.

"Hi Emmie." he cooed at her and she scrunched up her nose adorably.

"Say hi to Max, princess." I smiled at her and she looked between me and Max for a while before she turned to him, stretching out her hand, poking his cheek.

"Maxie." she said and he nodded.

"You can call me Maxie, that’s alright." Max smiled.

"Maxie…" she repeated and then looked at me "Charlie…"

"Hey! I’m not Charlie! I’m dad-" I began but got interrupted by her giggles.

"Maxie 'nd Charlie." she smiled poking first my cheek, then Max’ "Maxie 'nd Charlie."

"No, Emmie. I’m Daddy, Dad, Pap, Papa, Paps. But not Charlie. Okay? I’m not Charlie." I tried again.

"Charlie… Maxie." she said, nodding.

"Are you really trying to argue with her? You know who her mother is." Max laughed.

"Yep. That I know." I looked at Emmie and kissed her cheek "Thankfully she’s just as adorable as her mum, that saves her."

"Look at you, turned into a big, old softie." Max laughed when Emmie looked at him, a curious look on her face.

"Softie Maxie?"

"No, your daddy, girlie. He’s the softie!"

"No. Maxie softie. Charlie? Down." Emmie turned and looked at me, when she spotted Lizzie a few steps away. I sat her down and looked at her.

"Straight to mum, princess, okay? No detours!"

"Staight to mama." she nodded and bolted off.

I watched her hug Lizzie’s leg who bent down, picking her up. Seeing Lizzie back in a race suit, our daughter on her hip, made me feel all sorts of things and when Max started to laugh next to me, clapping my back I couldn’t stop the grin forming on my lips.

"Oh you’re so down bad for these two…"

"Oh yes… yes I am."

I watched the replay of the final overtake on the screen, Max next to me chuckling.

"Not gonna lie, after that move, I’m not even mad that you won." he said and I wiped my face with a towel.

"I had to try it, could’ve gone wrong as well…" I shrugged a little.

"Not today, you had an extra lucky charm with you." he nodded towards the screen, showing Lizzie with Emmie, wearing her little Ferrari hoodie, in her arms, standing right under the podium.

"Yeah… how could I not win with her around." I smiled.

"Little unfair advantage…" Oscar joked.

"Make your own lucky charm then." Max laughed.

"Hell no. I’m not ready for that!"

"Believe me. You’ll never be, it just works out magically…" I smiled when he was called out on the podium, followed by Max.

I took one last deep breath and stepped out, the cheering of the crowd almost deafening. But when I stepped onto the highest podium, I looked down. Lizzie and Emmie. Both smiling. Both beautiful. Both cheering louder than anyone else.

"DADDY! DADDY!" I heard her sweet voice carrying all the way up to me, almost jumping out of Lizzie’s arms.

I waved at her, blew her a kiss and her smile got even bigger.

"MY DADDY IS WINNER!" she continued and I felt tears well up. Happy tears.

Win or not today. I already won in life. Big time.

May 2027:

Emmie sat up and looked towards the door, her face lighting up.

"Dada!" she looked at me with her big eyes, clapping excitedly as soon as she heard Charles voice.

"Yes, baby girl, dada is home!" I smiled and she giggled happily, scrambling up on her feet, takings some cautious steps towards the door.

"Dada, I comes!" she screeched and made her way to the door.

I laughed and followed her into the hallway where I saw Arthur kneeling down opening his arms, Emmie slowly waddling towards him. The look on her face changed and she scrunched her nose adorably, realising that something wasn’t right. I heard her sigh and shaking her head slightly.

"You not dada." her voice full of disappointment.

"No, Emmie girlie, I’m not dada." Arthur chuckled "Can I still get a hug from my favourite niece?"

"Only niece." Charles said, appearing behind his brother and Emmie’s face lit up instantly.

"Dada!" she screeched happily, bolting towards her dad, ignoring Arthur’s open arms entirely.

"Ouch…" he mumbled and got up, watching how Charles picked up our little girl.

"Hey baby girl." he smiled at her but Emmie cupped his cheeks, studying his face intently, as to make sure that it was really her dada. Charles grinned, letting his baby girl turn his head to all sides.

"You dada!" she smiled after a while and Charles nodded, kissing her chubby cheeks. Emmie giggled and threw her little arms around his neck, cuddling him.

"Yes, I’m dada. I missed you so much, my little princess." Charles whispered, hugging her close, when Emmie pulled away, pointing at Arthur.

"You not dada!" she said accusatory and he sighed.

"No, Emmie, I’m not dada."

"You Arthie!" Emmie smiled a little and he nodded "My Arthie."

"Your Arthie."

"Dada… Arthie kissie." she looked at Charles with her big eyes and he laughed, walking towards his brother, so that Emmie could lean over, kissing Arthur’s cheek "Hi, my Arthie." she smiled and Arthur kissed her head in return.

"Only your Arthie." he smiled.

"But not dada." Emmie shrugged her shoulders, looking at Charles, smiling adorably.

"No. Not dada, I get it." Arthur shook his head and I laughed.

"Don’t be offended, as soon as Charles comes in, I’m forgotten as well. She’s such a daddy’s girl."

"Just like her mum, she’s crazy for me, what can I say?" Charles laughed, walking up to me, kissing me "Hi, cara mia. You look gorgeous today... you’re glowing!"

"Mama pwetty." Emmie chirped and Charles nodded.

"Mama super pretty, just like my little Emmie." he cooed at her, making her chubby cheeks turn pink "And now you’re blushing just like your mama." she giggled and hid her face in his neck and he sighed contently "You have no idea how happy I am to be back home."

I woke up from Emmie’s faint crying, hastily scrambling up, just to see that Charles was already leaving the room. I sat up, switching the light on, listening into the now quiet penthouse. A couple of moments later, the soft thuds of Emmie’s steps towards our bedroom made me smile. She poked her head around the corner, looking into the room, sighing happily when she saw me and then bolted straight for the bed. I pulled her up, sitting her in my lap and tugged some wild strands of hair out of her face, behind her ears.

"What is it princess? Did you have a bad dream?" I cooed and she nodded.

"Bad fishies…" she mumbled and I kissed her forehead "They meanies."

"What did the bad fishies do?"

"Didn’t lets me play."

"No! How rude!" I gasped and she nodded.

"Emmie?" Charles looked through the door and then smiled "Hey, I was looking for you. I’ve got your princess cup…" he walked over, handing her her little cup and she grabbed it happily, drinking some water "Come on. I’ll get you back to bed and then I’ll tell you what to do next time those fishies are mean!" he held out his hand but Emmie cuddled up into my chest.

"Nu-uh…" she shook her head a little, handing me her cup and I put it down on the night stand.

"Nu-uh?" Charles repeated and she pulled away, sliding down my lap, onto the bed.

"I sleeps here." Emmie patted the mattress next to her, already making herself comfortable.

"Yeah?" Charles asked and she nodded, pulling the blanket up.

"Lightses off." she said and I had to chuckle "Pwease?"

"Can I get in bed before mum switches off the light? I don’t want to stub my toe…" Charles walked around the bed, laying down "Alright." he pulled up the blanket and snuggled into the sheets before he pulled Emmie over, cradling her against him, making her giggle.

"Lightses off now?" her voice muffled.

"Lightses off now." Charles confirmed and I switched off the light, scooting a little closer.

"Good night, my cute little Emmie." I whispered against her head, kissing her.

"Nighty mama." she yawned and Charles kissed her forehead "Nighty dada."

"Good night, my princess." he whispered and then looked up, smiling at me "Good night, my queen."

July 2027:

Pregnant. The second test showing the same result. The mood swings, stomach bugs, my overly emotional state at times, it all made sense now.

"Whats dis?" Emmie asked, looking at the test in my hand "Is it toy?"

"No girlie, no toy…" I breathed out and she scowled a little.

"Why no toy?"

"Because not everything is a new toy for you."

"Dada always buys toys…"

"Yeah, because dada can’t resist your puppy eyes!" I chuckled, looking down at her.

"New puppy for Emmie?"

"No. Not a new puppy for you. It’s- umm well it’s… it’s something for mum and dad." I smiled at her "But you know what? It’s not a toy, but you’ll be able to play with it still in some time…"

She happily clapped her hands, beaming up at me.

"Tank you Mama for new toy."

"Not a toy, Emmie." I leaned down, cupping her cheek "A little brother or sister…"

"You’re pregnant?"

I flinched and looked up at Charles standing in the bathroom door frame, wide eyed, looking at me.

"Umm…" I grabbed the pregnancy tests and handed him the two sticks "Yeah…"

"We’re having another baby?" Charles breathed out, his eyes wandering between the tests in his hand, me and then Emmie on the floor.

"Looks like it…" I said quietly "Is that okay? I mean-… we talked about it… but never about the when…"

"It’s perfect, cara mia…" he stepped closer, cupping my cheeks "We’re having another little one…" he kissed me and Emmie got up, pinching his leg.

"Want kissie too." she pouted and Charles picked her up, tickling her belly.

"You’re going to be a big sister, princess. Are you excited? You’re getting a little brother or sister!" he cooed at her kissing her chubby cheeks.

"Big sis-sissie?" she tilted her head a little.

"Big sister, munchkin." I said slowly.

"Big sista…" she repeated and I smiled.

"That’s it. Well done pretty girl." Charles kissed her cheek again "You’re going to be an amazing big sister, I just know it!"

"The bestest!" she chirped.

"The best, girlie. It’s just the best."

"Na-uh… bestest." she shook her head and cuddled into Charles chest "Bestest, bestest, bestest."

"Okay… bestest is it- for now." he said and Emmie giggled, kissing his cheek, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Emmies always right." she said and I laughed.

"She’s 100 per cent your daughter!" Charles and I said in unison and then laughed even more.

"Daddy, down pwease." Emmie said and Charles sat her down "Arlooo… me’s a be big sista…" she shouted, running away.

"Ready for another one?" I asked and Charles grabbed me by the waist, pulling me close.

"Another little trouble maker? I can’t wait… I think we can handle two…" he kissed me and then leaned his forehead against mine "I love you, cara mia. You, Emmie and the little one in your belly… I can’t wait for another baby…"

"Then I call the doctor for an appointment…" I whispered and he nodded.

"I want to be here for the first ultrasound…" Charles whispered back and I smiled.

"I’ll make sure of it… even if it might take a little longer then." I pecked his lips and he smiled.

"And there… oh there they are!" the nurse said and my eyes widened.

"They?" I asked and Charles looked confused.

"Yes, here we have baby number one and here is baby number two. Congratulations, you’re having twins!" the nurse smiled.

"Twins?" Charles repeated.

"Yes, Mr. Leclerc, you and your wife are having twins!" she nodded.

"How?" he asked and the nurse laughed.

"Happened the same way like it did with your daughter…" she chuckled and got up "I’ll leave you alone. If you’re dressed come up to the front desk."

"Charles, hey? Pretty boy, are you alright?" I asked as Charles sat next to me, visibly panicking.

"Twins, cara mia! Twins! I barely kept Emmie alive! How am I supposed to take care of two babies at the same time?" he said with a worry laced voice.

"Did I miss something?" I chuckled and Charles looks at me confused "Am I leaving and you’re alone with them? Besides, 'barely kept Emmie alive'? Charles you were born to be a dad! You were so very good at it, you know how jealous I was at times!"

"Yeah for absolute no reason…" he rolled his eyes a little and I sighed.

"We both did good, okay? Emmie turned out just great and with these two it will be just the same…" I cupped his cheek, rubbing circles on it "It’s going to be fine… okay?"

"Twins, cara mia… can you believe it?" he whispered and I sighed a little.

"I’m going to get so huge… blue whale like…" I mumbled.

"Beautiful. You’re going to be so freaking beautiful. Like you always are, just with a little more-…"

"… fat on the ribs and basically everywhere?" I groaned.

"Hey, stop that!" he pinched my waist "I wanted to say just with a little more of that gorgeous glow you had when you were pregnant with Lizzie… you’re going to be the most beautiful girl out there cara mia… you and Emmie of course." he kissed me and I had to smile.

"Three little rascals…"

May 2031:

"Why do you look so nervous?" Lizzie asked and I shook my head slightly "She’ll be fine…"

"How do you know?"

"Because she’s our daughter?" she chuckled and I rolled my eyes "She’ll be fine." she said again, cupping my cheek "You taught her everything she needs to know."

"I hope so…" I said underneath my breath and watched as the race director waved the flag, signalling for the race to start.

I closed my eyes and took one last deep breath before I watched the race unfold before our eyes. Emmie was fearless as well as ruthless, making up 5 positions in the first few corners.

"Fucking hell…" Arthur let out next to me, his eyes widening in horror when he heard the loud gasp from Elio on his shoulders.

"Arthi said bad word!" he chirped and I glared at Arthur.

"Yes Arthur, you said a very bad word!"

"Fucking hell!" Enzo said proudly, leaning his back against Lizzie, swinging his dangling legs back and forth.

"Enzo!" Lizzie warned him and he rolled his eyes groaning "Mister!"

"Fucking hell…" he repeated and Arthur mouthed an apology towards me.

"Enzo Doetterer-Leclerc. Stop it." I picked him up from the banister he was sitting on, making him look at me "No bad words. And no bad attitude."

"Yous boring." he mumbled, poking my cheek "Arthi funny."

"Nope, little man. I said a bad word. We don’t say bad words. Mum and Dad are right." Arthur tried it and Enzo sighed.

"Yous boring too."

"And you’re a little menace." I tickled his sites, making him giggle.

"Stop! Paps stop!" he laughed but I kept going "Not saying bad wordses again! Pomis!"

"You promise me?" I stopped, looking at him and he nodded.

"Pomis."

"Okay, now let’s watch your sister…"

"… winning her first race…" Lizzie finished and I followed her look, watching Emmie starting her last lap, a huge gap between her and the rest.

The moment Emmie crossed the finish line and stopped her kart, she jumped out, running towards us, happily screaming.

"I won! I won! Did you see that? I wooon!" she pulled her helmet off, hairs standing up in all directions "I WON!"

"You did amazing, Ems!" Arthur pinched her cheek a little and she chuckled.

"Did you see that?" Emmie looked at me and I nodded, hugging her.

"You were amazing princess!"

"We’re so proud of you!" Lizzie bend down, kissing her cheek "So, so proud."

Emmie smiled and wiped her face with a towel Lizzie handed her and then grinned.

"I kicked the boys asses." she chuckled and Lizzie pressed her lips into a thin line, trying her best not to laugh "They didn’t even had a chance."

"You’re a menace too." I said and Arthur laughed.

"Look what you guys did. Created 3 little menaces to the society." he nudged my shoulder.

"That we did."

May 2033:

I watched the twins getting into their race gear. Both with a big smile on their faces, chatting overly excited with Arthur and Pops.

"Dad?" Emmie poked my side and I looked down at her "Mummy is looking for you. She’s talking to Maxie."

"Please tell me you said Maxie to him…" I chuckled and she grinned "Good girl. Go help your brothers we’ll be there any minute." I kissed her head and she sauntered off, pinching her brothers as soon as she was close enough.

I looked around, finding Lizzie and Max standing at the exit, talking away.

"Hi Maxie." I said, chuckling when he rolled his eyes.

"Your kids can call me that, you? Definitely not."

"Oh come on, Maxie. Don’t be a party pooper."

"Lizzie, tell your husband to stop." Max looked at her and she just held up her hands.

"I didn’t want to get dragged in between you almost 30 years ago, I don’t want to get dragged between you now. You two are big boys. Behave." she chided and I laughed.

"I’ll tell you something. I’m only allowed to call you Maxie if I win the title this year, equalling with your 5 titles."

"Deal." Max said with not hesitation and I cocked an eyebrow "Mate your car is… well it’s not shit like at some seasons in the past… god just think back at 2023-…"

"Or 2020!" Lizzie added.

"My point is. 8 races in and you won how many? One? Only Monaco… I mean…" he shrugged.

"Just out of spite I have to win now." I said and Lizzie laughed.

"Look what you made him do…"

"You should’ve just retired like me last season." Max said, scratching his chin but I shook my head.

"No, I could feel that I have one more title in me. And I’ll win it, to prove you wrong. And then I’ll call you Maxie all the damn time." I punched his arm and he laughed.

"Alright. If you say so… for now I want to see our boys race. Let’s go." he said and I nodded, taking Lizzie’s hand.

"Let’s just hope these boys are not like you two…" she chuckled and Max and I looked at her "What? You were track terrors… and whoever got caught in between you two? Yeah no…"

"You were worse than us!" I chuckled and Max nodded.

"Yeah… if all, we have to hope that they are not like you!" he said and Lizzie glared at us "Oh… there it is, the Lizzie-death-glare… I wish I could say I’m not scared but… that would be a lie."

"Yeah, now imagine being married to her!" I said and Lizzie pinched my side.

"If you boys are ready now? There are 3 boys about to race and I don’t want to miss that…" she stomped away and I sighed.

"You know that I’ll have to pay for that back at home…" I chuckled and Max laughed, following Lizzie.

I sat down next to Lizzie on the bleachers, Emmie, Arthur and Juergen in front of us. Max sat down next to us and we watched excitedly the race start. Enzo leading into turn 1.

"He’s really good." Max commented and I smiled proudly.

"That he is."

"Just like his dad…" Lizzie said, and I threw my arm around her shoulder pulling her close.

"And like his mum!" I kissed her cheek, watching Enzo increasing the gap "But damn he’s fast…"

"That’s because he’s fearless… look, he’s almost not braking at all in the corners…" Arthur said.

He was right. Enzo was fearless, going into corners almost at full speed, dive bombing later than anyone I’ve ever seen. He won the race by such a big margin that he already had parked his kart and got out when Max’ son, Eric, parked behind him, followed by Elio.

"What a race…" Max clapped his hands and got up, and we walked down to our sons "Arthur is right, you know? Enzo is fearless…"

"He is. Not sure I like that…" I replied and he chuckled a little.

"Yeah… I feel you…"

"But then again. If he continues like this? He could make it pretty far…" I said as we stepped on the track, Enzo, Eric and Eli joking around.

"Yeah, if he wants to." Max said, taking Eric’s helmet "Hey buddy, good race."

"Yeah, couldn’t catch Enzo though… he’s crazy…" Eric said and Enzo chuckled, handing me his helmet "You drive into the corners without braking!"

"That’s how you win!" Enzo shrugged his shoulders and I chuckled.

"Or end up in a wall." Elio said and his brother rolled his eyes.

"It won’t happen, your brother is not stupid." I said and Lizzie chuckled next to me.

"Yeah… he’s not his dad…" she said and Max and Arthur began to laugh.

"Very funny…" I rolled my eyes when the race director waved at us "Boys, you’re needed…"

I ruffled the boys hair and they ran off, stepping on the little makeshift podium. It was the seventh race of the season and already the sixth win for Enzo, who got better each week. He jumped excitedly up and down on the top step on the podium waving at us happily.

"Look at him… he reminds me so much of you…" Juergen said, standing next to me "Whenever you were on the podium you were super giddy and couldn’t contain your excitement."

"He loves it… racing, the speed, the adrenaline, winning… Elio on the other hand…" I began and he nodded.

"He loves it too, but for him it’s more a hobby… while for Enzo… it’s everything."

He was right. Elio had fun. He enjoyed karting. But apart from the track, his mind wasn’t occupied with karting, not like his brothers, who couldn’t stop talking about karting, or racing in general. Enzo lifted his trophy over his head and cheered happily, waving at us and I smiled.

"Look dad! Another one!" he screeched, running over to us.

"Soon you’ll need a whole trophy cabinet!" I said and he nodded.

"Or I can put them next to yours and mum’s trophies in your trophy room?" he looked at me with big eyes, when Elio joined us, smiling shyly, presenting his smaller trophy.

"I tell you what, both of you, and Emmie, get a shelf in our trophy room…" I said and they both beamed up at me, running off again.

"You have a trophy room? Like… seriously?" Max asked and Lizzie cocked an eyebrow.

"Where? In our penthouse? You mean your office/ studio/ storage room? Where all of our trophies are kept in boxes?" she asked and I laughed.

"I mean… we could turn it into a trophy room." I shrugged my shoulders and she laughed.

"Sure. You do that…" she replied and I groaned "Your idea, you told your kids, so you do that…"

"Pops?" I looked at Juergen who just chuckled.

"Sure, I’ll help you… and maybe you can put your fifth world champion trophy in at the end of the year…"

"Let’s hope so…"

June 2038:

I watched as Emmie practically beamed at him, hanging at his lips, soaking in every word he said. I groaned a little and Lizzie looked up from adjusting Enzo’s helmet.

"What?" she asked and followed my look, then she chuckled.

"Do you see how she looks at him? She’s too young for these kinda looks!" I muttered.

"Charles, she has a crush on him! At her age I already had a huge crush on you too!" she laughed but I shook my head.

"That’s different… we knew each other for almost 5 years at her age! And I wasn’t so… so…" I rambled and Lizzie laughed even more.

"So what?" she asked and I sighed.

"So slimy! God, look how he laughs!" I groaned.

"Enzo, you’re all good, why don’t you go to Arthur, he’ll help you with your kart…" Lizzie send Enzo away "Love? She’s 13. She has a crush on Nick. That’s it. They won’t get married tomorrow. So relax, please."

"He won’t marry her in 10 years either! Never. I don’t like that boy!" I huffed out and Lizzie rolled her eyes. Both watching as Emmie put her helmet on, walking towards Enzo and Arthur. "Alright. I’ll be right back."

"Charles! Be nice!" Lizzie whisper shouts at me as I made my way over to Nick, but I just waved her off. The boy was about to grab his helmet as I grabbed it first, handing it to him.

"Here you go…" I said and Nick made big eyes.

"Th-thank you Mr. Leclerc…" he stuttered and I smiled at him. As he put his helmet on and sat down in his kart I crouched down next to him.

"That’s a nice kart you’re having. Looks fast." I said with an overly friendly voice.

"My dad and uncle worked on it together." he said nervously and I nodded.

"I saw you talking to Emmie, yeah, you know, she’s a tough girl. Ruthless on track. Very talented. Fast." I stated casually, checking his engine out "But you see, no matter how old she is, she’ll always be my little princess… and if everyone were to hurt her, make her sad, god forbid, break her heart? Make her cry… oh well."

"I don’t know what you mean… Emmie is… she’s great… but I didn’t…" he began to ramble but I just held up my hand, making him stop abruptly.

"What I’m saying, Nick, is… that’s a really nice kart you’re having… if you want to keep it that way… you better be as sweet as honey to my Emmie…" I smiled at him and got up "Because during these karting races accidents happen so fast…" I gently closed his visor "Good luck, Nick!" I said loudly and Lizzie looked over, smiling at me.

She didn’t have to know everything that I’m doing.

July 2037:

I watched as the kids cuddled him, one by one. Scratching his ears. Showering him with kisses.

"What did the doctor say?" Lizzie whispered and gently stroked by back, holding my hand.

"He won’t make the night. He said we should give him all his favourite treats…" I answered, voice broken and hoarse.

"I can stay with you? Lorenzo and Charlotte can pick up the kids and I stay with you and then we’ll go tomorrow together…" she began but I shook my head.

"You should be with them, they shouldn’t be alone…" I whispered and Lizzie nodded, kissing my cheek, wiping away some stray tears.

She walked down the lawn, sat down next to the kids and cuddled Arlo. His ears immediately stood up, of course, his mum was there. After a while they all said their final goodbyes, coming back in, Emmie hugged me immediately.

"You’ll stay with him, right? He won’t be alone?" she cried and I nodded.

"He won’t be alone, no. Not a single moment." I kissed her head and the twins squeezed right into our hug.

"Will he be in pain?" Elio’s voice barely above a whisper.

"No, little one. The doc gave him some medicine. He won’t feel anything. He will fall asleep…" I began and Enzo cried out.

"And then he won’t wake up anymore?" he asked and I nodded.

"He won’t." I swallowed hard and Lizzie gave Arlo one last kiss, then walked inside.

"We have to go now, come on. Dad will take care of our good boy." her voice was laced with tiny sobs. The kids slowly pulled away and I kissed them one by one on the forehead as they headed into the foyer, grabbing their bags.

"Will you be okay?" Lizzie whispered, pulling me into a tight embrace and I felt tears streaming down both our faces.

"Yeah… I’ll see you tomorrow…" one last kiss and she left with the kids.

I took a deep breath and walked outside, sat down next to Arlo on the soft lawn, the setting sun shining softly above us. He held up his head, tilting it a little and it reminded me of the day where I brought him home to our old flat. How I couldn’t tame him and knew that he would be a piece of work. All those years ago. Lizzie’s eyes, when she saw him, lighting up. The tears she cried. Happy tears. So many happy tears. The moments when Lizzie was pregnant first with Emmie, later with the twins. How protective Arlo was. Always looking out for his mum. Always putting his head on her belly. I scratched him behind his ears and he closed his eyes. Laying his head in my lap.

"Good boy. My Arlo. You can rest now. You took care of your mum and the kids whenever I couldn’t be here. Thank you, my sweet boy. I love you." I leaned down, kissing his head. I could hear his breathing becoming more shallow with every breath he took. I kept on stroking his soft fur. Giving him belly rubs. Kissing his head. Thinking about all the memories our little fur baby gifted us with. "I will miss you, Arlo. I love you. So much!" I whispered after a while and looked down. Watching closely. He wasn’t breathing anymore. Realising that he was gone "Goodbye, my Arlo."

September 2041:

"What’s up?" I asked, looking at Charles who just walked in "You look like you’ve seen a ghost?"

"That was John… he offered me the position as director of the FDA… starting next season…" Charles said and Enzo looked up from his iPad.

"Oh wow! Congrats Charles!" I got up from the barstool and kissed his cheek.

"Thanks…" he mumbled and I looked at him.

"You don’t sound too happy? You don’t want to do it?" I asked, but he shook his head.

"No, of course I’m happy. It’s just…" he stopped and looked at Enzo.

"I have to work now even harder… or people will say that I only got into the FDA because of you…" he said and Charles nodded.

"But that’s ridiculous. Everyone can see how talented you are. Also, you’re only 13… you won’t make it into the FDA for the next two or three years anyways…" I said, patting his arm but he sighed.

"Your mum is right, Enzo. Also, just because someone is in the FDA, doesn’t grant them a seat in a car." Charles said and I nodded.

"Yeah… sure." Enzo smiled and got up, hugging him "Congrats dad." he then grabbed his iPad and left the kitchen.

"Hey? It’s going to be just fine, okay? He’s talented. One of the best, if not the best… no one will think otherwise." I snaked my arms around Charles neck, pulling him closer "I’m so proud of you, my pretty boy."

"Thanks, cara mia." he smiled and kissed him, then he leaned his forehead against mine and he exhaled loudly "He really is the best right now… if he continues like this? Prema is already interested, also Carlin…"

"See? And that all without your help…"

"It’s 50% of my DNA in him, so I’d say a little of my help…" he laughed and I shook my head.

"You’re an idiot… but a cute one… so, yeah… that’s fine…"

September 2044:

"Okay… what’s going on here?" Enzo asked after a while, looking at Elio then at me "You said that there is something important we need to talk about, now we’re sitting here for ten minutes and nothing happened… I could sit in the simulator, you know?"

"Enzo!" I glared at him and he rolled his eyes a little.

"Sorry. But-… whatever." he groaned, crossed his arms and leaned back in the sofa.

"Elio, sweetheart? What is it?" Lizzie asked him quietly, smiling at him and he looked at me.

"It’s okay, take your time…" I encouraged him and he took a deep breath, closing his eyes.

"Maybe not that much time, Nick is going to pick me up in… half an hour." Emmie said, looking at her phone.

"Nick?" I looked at her and Lizzie shook her head "And where are you and Nick going?"

"To Clara, she’s having a party with drugs and alcohol." Emmie rolled her eyes and I glared at her "We’re just going to the movies…"

"To the movies?" I repeated and she nodded.

"Charles? We’re here because of Elio, remember? So… focus." Lizzie said and I knew that tone.

"Can Elio then please speak up?" Enzo said and Emmie nodded.

"Yeah, I’m not done with my hairs yet…"

"Guys!" Lizzie and I said.

"I’m gay." Elio blurted out and the silence was loud.

He looked at me, then Lizzie, Emmie, both smiling, and lastly Enzo, who didn’t react at all.

"That’s wonderful, sweetheart. Thanks for telling us!" Lizzie got up and kissed his cheek, followed by Emmie, who hugged him.

"You’re damn brave, little bro." she chuckled and he smiled at her.

Enzo still didn’t react and I was about to say something, when Elio beat me to it.

"Zo?" he asked quietly.

"What? I thought you would tell us a secret or something?" Enzo replied and we looked at him.

"What do you mean?" Elio asked.

"You think I didn’t knew? We shared a womb, dumbass? I think I knew it before you knew it yourself. My point is. More girls for me, because now all the girls who like the tortured poet that is you, will come to me now… thanks for that, El." Enzo got up, clapped his brothers back and walked away "I’m in the sim… Singapore is next…"

"Unbelievable…" Emmie shook her head, kissing Elio’s cheek "Love you." then she was gone as well.

"Umm- I guess that’s it then?" Elio shrugged, following Emmie.

"That was…" I began but then shrugged.

"Well, they’re clearly your kids…" Lizzie chuckled "Or at least Enzo through and through…"

"Not gonna argue with that."

Monaco 2046:

"Why are you so nervous?" Emmie put down her headphones, watching Enzo anxiously replaying old videos from the Monaco Grand Prix "You know those streets better than anyone else? Dad used to drive the track with us almost daily when we were younger…"

"It’s not the same like in an F2 car! Especially after having 3 shitty races in a row… and after all it’s Monaco… not the easiest track for our family…" he mumbled and Charles rolled his eyes a little.

"Ooouuuhhh you touched there a sore spot, Enzo." I said and Charles glared at me "Oh don’t look at me like that."

"You should’ve never mentioned this stupid statistic…"

"First of all, I didn’t mention anything, it’s all over the internet and second of all, it’s not a statistic, it’s a curse-…" I began but he interrupted me.

"Curses don’t exist! You’re all too superstitious."

"Oh really? We are superstitious?" I cocked an eyebrow and our kids looked between us.

"Yeah, you are, curses don’t exist, stupid rituals or whatever don’t help… it’s just about you and the car and your abilities… nothing else!"

"Says the guy who wore red pants on every quali day because he wore red pants when he got his first pole."

"That was not because of that…" Charles protested but one look and he stopped.

"And then stopped wearing red pants on quail day because during a shitty season 2023, when nothing worked out for him he once didn’t wear red pants on quali day and got pole position… the next time he forgot them, he got pole position again and from then on he never wore red pants on quali day…"

"Whatever." Charles groaned and I had to chuckle.

"Just admit it, you were just as superstitious like the rest of us!"

"Nope." he shook his head.

"Oh come on dad, not even a little?" Emmie looked at him, big puppy eyes on full display.

"I mean… I just don’t believe in it…" he sighed.

"Maybe that’s the topic of my next podcast? Drivers and their rituals and superstitions?" she thought and I nodded.

"That would be interesting! You should talk to Arthur, he also had a weird ritual…" I smiled at Emmie and she already scribbled something down in her little notebook.

"Didn’t uncle Arthur also crash out in Monaco?" Elio asked, looking up from his phone and I nodded "But you didn’t? Not in F2 not in F1?… well maybe it’s just a Leclerc curse then… therefore Enzo you’re cursed."

"Okay, stop that now!" Charles rolled his eyes, glaring at me "Look what you’ve started!"

"Me? I didn’t start shit!" I said

"Language!" Enzo, Emmie and Elio said in unison, cackling away.

"Very funny…"

"Hey, you made us watch that old movie! What was it called? Aviators?" Elio asked.

"Avengers." Charles and I said and he grinned at me.

"Same thing." Elio mumbled.

"We kinda lose the plot here! Dad’s Monaco curse and Enzo shitting his pants driving here." Emmie wiggled her eyebrows at her little brother, who threw a bread roll at her.

"Enzo Doetterer-Leclerc! We do not treat food like that!" I reprimanded him.

"Sorry… but she’s egging me on! And it’s-it’s…" I saw how frustrated he was, but before I could react Elio already seemed to be having an idea.

"If it’s a Monaco curse and that only applies to Leclerc drivers… maybe you dropped the wrong last name then? Maybe for now you should go by Doetterer." he said matter of factly and I looked at Charles, his jaw clenched, a muscle ticking.

"If you want to drop my name, because you want to driver under your mums name? Fine by me. If you drop your name because of a stupid, not-existing curse… that’s something different…" he looked at Enzo who shrunk a little under his dad’s gaze.

"No one is dropping anyone’s name. You chose Leclerc, and I get it, shorter, easier to pronounce, the name of a five time world champion. Also 5 time winner of the Monaco Grand Prix! You studied the track, and now you get into your car and you focus on nothing else but the car and the track. Whatever happens then, happens." I said and Enzo sighed.

"I just want to make you guys proud…" he mumbled and Charles look softened, grabbing him by the shoulders.

"We are proud of you, Enzo! It’s not so easy coming fresh out of F3 and your fourth race in F2 is already Monaco, but you’ll manage, okay? And if not? That’s also not the end of the world… it took me years to even finish our home race…" he said and Enzo nodded slowly.

"It’s going to be fine, Enzo, you’ll see." I said and he got up.

"And if not, you’re just continuing a family tradition." Emmie laughed and walked away, dodging another bread roll.

"Don’t listen to her. Your mum is right, it’s going to be just fine." Charles smiled at Enzo who just sighed "Let’s watch the races together. Maybe I have some tips and tricks on what to do…"

"Rather on what not to do…" I chuckled quietly, a bread roll hitting me straight at the temple.

"You deserved that one…"

October 2046:

"Dad? What are you doing here?" he was surprised, I could tell.

"I wanted to see your work." I answered simply and he looked at me confused "Jo told me that you asked him for advice, what pictures to choose. And then I found the flyer in the rubbish bin. Crumpled."

"I mean, I know how busy you are with the FDA and Enzo in F2 now, preparing for F1 next season." he mumbled and I just shook my head.

"Elio, I’ll always make room for you and your passion. If I know about it…" I said and he nodded sheepishly.

"I know… it’s just that…" he began but then stopped.

"That what?" I asked and he sighed.

"I just thought that this is nothing that would interest you… I mean Emmie is studying sports journalism. Has her F1 podcast and blog, everyone loves her and she has so many subscriptions! Enzo is stepping right into yours and mums shoes, starting in F1 next year. And me? I’m not in any way like them. I like F1. As a fan to watch. But that’s it. I just thought that…" he said and now I sighed.

"You thought what? That I wouldn’t be proud of you, wouldn’t be interested in what you’re doing because it’s not F1 related?" I asked and he nodded and looked down "How many times do I have to tell you, that I’m proud of you, no matter what! Any passion of yours, is something I’m interested in, Elio."

He swallowed hard and looked up, then he turned a little, pointing behind him.

"Do you want to see my pictures?" he asked and I nodded excitedly.

"Did you know, when I was younger I was also really interested in photography! I just wasn’t as talented as you!" I said and he looked at me.

"I didn’t know that…" he replied and then pointed at the 5 pictures in front of us.

One showing Lizzie and me in our garden, another one was from Enzo as he was breezing past me and Emmie in the feature race of the last Monaco GP, the one in the middle a shot of an old F1 car engine, one from a wild and rough countryside, the last one a busy street in London, with Emmie in front, pointing at something.

"Wow Elio, these are amazing…" I whispered, taking a step closer.

The photographs were impressive. The colours. The contrast. The lighting. I loved every single one.

"Thanks dad… for being here…" Elio said after a while and I looked at him.

"This is what you should do, you know? I think you could be an amazing photograph…" I said and he smiled.

"Yeah… maybe I will one day…"

I left my office, heading downstairs when Stella, John Elkann’s assistant bumped into me.

"Sorry Stella, didn’t see you." I smiled apologetically.

"It’s fine Mr. Leclerc-…"

"Charles. I told you before, it’s just Charles…"

"Charles, of course. Umm do you have a minute?" she asked and I nodded.

"Sure, what’s the matter?"

"Mr. Elkann wants to talk to you. I sent you an invitation for a meeting next week, but we came here this morning on a whim and you know Mr. Elkann…" Stella smiled at me and I followed her.

"Yeah, if you can do it now, do it." I nodded "Do you know about what this meeting is?"

"Umm- I do… but it’s better if he tells you this…" she said shyly and I got nervous "Oh it’s nothing bad!"

"You sure? The big boss comes in just to chat?" I said and she smiled.

"You’ll see. He’s waiting for you." she knocked on the office door and opened it, letting me in.

"Charles, good to see you!" John got up from his chair and hugged me "How are you? The kids? Lizzie?"

"We’re all good, thanks." I smiled, still a little nervous.

"Enzo must be excited, now that he has a seat in F1 next year. It was only logical that we would want our best driver from the academy, soon to be F2 champion in our junior team in F1 next season."

"Yeah, he’s really excited. He is really grateful for this chance, I mean, we all are of course."

"He’ll make us proud, I have no doubt in that."

I smiled and nodded only.

"Okay, I make this quick, I don’t want you to have a heart attack. Charles, you did an amazing job as the director of the FDA, but now we think it’s time for someone new…" he began and I felt my stomach twisting "… because we would like you to step up and become the new team principal of Ferrari."

"Sorry what?" I was confused.

"We want you as team principal for the Scuderia Ferrari, starting next season."

"Me? As team principal? Ferrari. The F1 team?" I almost stuttered and he nodded.

"Yes. You’re the right one for the job. You know the team, the sport. You know how it works. We believe you’ll be amazing… so? What do you say?" John looked at me hopefully and I tilted my head a little.

"If I agree, I have one condition…" I said slowly.

"Of course. What is it?" he asked and I began to smirk.

"Monza. All black suit. All black car. And I mean all black. Not some weird grey patterns on black. Or some black car parts. All black. I’ve been deprived of it my whole career, when I wanted nothing more than to drive an all black car, wearing an all black suit…" I said and John looked at me for a moment before he laughed, leaning back in his chair.

"Oh how I remember the disappointment in your eyes when they showed you the suit for Monza 2025?-…"

"2024… and then 2027 again…" I added.

"… yeah. You hated the 2024 suit. And the livery…" he finished wiping tears away.

"I thought 2023 was bad… but that topped it I think…" I shrugged my shoulders.

"Alright Charles, Monza is black. But not every year, no? But the upcoming season for sure. Do we have a deal then?" he got up, buttoning his jacket close as I got up as well.

"We have a deal." I said shaking his hand.

"Well then it’s official, Charles Leclerc, new team principal of Scuderia Ferrari."

January 2047:

"Elio? There's a letter for you." I put it down in front of him, walking around the kitchen island "Are you coming to Enzo's first race?"

"Huh?" Elio looked up from the envelop in his hands "What?"

I chuckled a little, beginning to slice up some apples, watching him tilting his head a little reminding me of Charles.

"Are you coming to Enzo's first race? I know you're not that into F1 anymore, but I think Enzo wants you there.. it's also your dad's first race as team principal of Ferrari and I know for a fact that he would definitely love to have you there." I smiled at him, and he rubbed his neck, looking nervous "What's going on?"

"Oh umm-it's just… do you remember how I applied for the Parsons School of Design in New York? Studying there would be a dream, although... I mean, chances were little that they even consider me, comparing my photography to those of others? But... mum, they want me.. I'm in..." Elio whispered, and I dropped the knife "I mean... I applied there on a whim, I first need to cheek for scholarships because it's freaking expensive and-..." he began to ramble and I walked back around the island, stopping in front of him.

"I’m so proud of you, Elio. Wow! This is amazing!" I cupped his cheek, kissing it, watching him blush.

"Thanks mum, but it's like I said I have to check if they have scholarsh-…"

"You do know that your dad and I have a little money on the side, right?" I joked and he looked at me "You're going. No scholarship needed. It's noble from you, to think like that, but you don't need it. I'm sure, you would get a scholarship if you would apply for one, but someone might need it more than you..."

"Are you sure? It's expensive? Like really." Elio mumbled, and I laughed.

"Your dad is a 5 time Formula 1 world champion, Ferrari team principal, investor, founder and whatever of god knows what companies, I honestly lost count, and your mum, little old me, also managed to make a little fortune with clever investments and commercial deals and from driving 3 seasons in F1! So yes Elio, l'm sure. And even if not? We could always sell one or two of your dad's cars, I guess that would cover the tuition fees and everything else."

"Who wants to sell my cars for what?" Charles walked in, all sweaty, hair a mess.

"Elio has some big news..." I smiled at our son who nervously grabbed the envelop from the counter.

"Okay? Then shoot..." Charles opened the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water, looking at Elio.

"So umm-... I applied at some universities... and the Parsons School of Design, they have one of the best photography programs worldwide, they accepted me..." Elio said nervously and Charles eyes brightened in an instant.

"The Parsons School of Design in New York? Wow! Elio, I'm so proud of you! Incredible!" he exclaimed, storming over to our son, pulling him into a tight embrace "You worked so hard for this! You deserve this so much, son. I'm really, really proud of you."

"Okay, Mr. Sweaty, can you please take a shower and not smother your sweat all over our son? Thank you!" I pulled Charles away from Elio.

"Hey! I just ran 5 kilometres! Of course I'm sweaty!" he snaked his arm around my waist, pulling me closer "I have to stay in shape for you cara mia..." he then whispered, his warm breath fanning over my skin, eliciting goosebumps all over, before he kissed my jaw.

"Eww! Here are children! Behave for fucks sake!" Enzo walked into the kitchen, fake gagging "Things I don't want to see before breakfast? My parents making out in front of me like horny teenagers!"

"You're just jealous because I landed a pretty girl and you didn’t." Charles laughed, pinching my waist "I'm going to take a shower and tonight we're celebrating you Elio..." he ruffled Elio's hair and was about to leave when he stopped "I still don't know why you want to sell some of my cars?" he looked at me.

"And I don't know why we're celebrating Elio?" Enzo plopped down on the stool next to his brother, eating his cereals "What did you do?"

"You're brother was accepted at the Parsons School of Design..." I said and he made big eyes.

"Are you serious El? Fucking hell, that's one of the best schools! I know that because you talked about it for years now! Congrats little bro!" Enzo side hugged his brother who smiled shyly.

"Thanks, but hey, you're only 3 minutes older, Zo..." Elio rolled his eyes playfully.

"Semantics..." Enzo shrugged his shoulders and I continued cutting the apples.

"Hello? I still want to know why my cars are being sold?"

"It was because of the costs of the school. But don’t worry, I won’t touch your precious cars…" I chuckled and Charles tilted his head, coming closer.

"You could sell them all, just not the F40… that one is special…" he said and I rolled my eyes.

"It’s your favourite car, I know…"

"Yeah, that too… but you bought it for me… so no, that one won’t be sold ever." he whispered and then kissed me, before stepping away "I’m going to take a shower now."

"And I need to wash my eyeballs with bleach…" Enzo mumbled and I saw the mischievous look on Charles face.

"Care to join me under the shower, cara mia?" he said, looking at me challenging.

"Sounds like a good idea. It’s also good for our planet… it saves water…" I put the knife down, grabbed the plate with the apple slices and put it down in front of the twins "Eat your fruits kiddos."

"Let’s go pretty girl, let’s save our planet…" Charles grabbed my hand, pulling me with him.

"One day you have to pay for your children’s therapy!" Enzo shouted after us and we both laughed.

"That’s fine. We can sell a car for that."

Montreal 2047:

"Charles. Round 7 here in Montreal, 2 Ferrari wins, but also 2 Ferrari DNFs. What are your thoughts on the season so far?"

"I think we started out pretty well. The DNFs were unfortunate, but you have to put into account that one was due to a damage after a collision, so I’d say only our DNF in Bahrain, where we had a mechanical issue, is something we need to work on." I answered and knew already what the follow up question would be.

"The collision in Miami you mentioned, was between your driver and your son… how do you handle such a sensitive situation?"

"That’s simple. I don’t. Enzo is not my driver. He has a team principal who talks with him after the races. That’s not my job. My job as his father is to tell him he gave his all and it didn’t work out, the next time it will…"

"But he’s driving for your junior team, I’m sure you have a say as well?"

"No, I don’t. Not my team. Not my place to say something."

"So you don’t think, you should’ve said something to Enzo about his attempt to overtake your driver at a corner that simply isn’t made for that? Which caused your driver to retire from the race? Costing Ferrari precious and well needed points?"

"Again. That’s his team principals job. Not mine. I did my job as his dad and that’s it." I said with finality in my voice, hoping the reporter would understand that he wouldn’t get a different answer from me.

"Thank you, Charles."

I nodded and got out, already seeing Enzo and his group preparing for their press conference. He saw me and rolled his eyes a little and I shrugged my shoulders, walking off towards the Ferrari hospitality where Lizzie sat, going through some timetables and documents

"What a bitch!" her first words and I had to chuckle.

"What did you expect. The Spanish media never liked me… why would they start now." I sat down next to her "What’s all that?"

"That are Mira and Callie’s schedules for the next weeks… who would’ve thought that managing two Formula 1 driver and co-directing the F1 Academy was so difficult." she chuckled and I sighed.

"Yeah well… who would’ve thought that being the team principal of Ferrari would only be my secondary problem and my first one would be my son who’s not even driving for my team…"

"I’m sorry they ask you these kind of questions." Lizzie sat up, cupping my cheek "And I’m sorry that Enzo is a little… well he hates that he’s compared to you all the time, so he’s a little frustrated and you’re the one who…"

"I know. And I’m not even mad at him. I’m sorry for him. But more in a way like… I know what good of a driver he is, I mean… he didn’t win his championships for nothing, but F1 is different. The media is different, the expectations… everything. I just don’t want him to crack under all the pressure." I mumbled and Lizzie rubbed soothing circles on my cheek.

"He’ll manage, you’ll see. He just needs time… and a thick skin." she said and I nodded, right when I saw Enzo picking up his microphone and turned up the volume.

"Julia Andres, ESPN Spain, question for Enzo. Out of the 6 races of this season you already had 3 DNFs, and finished only once in the points. Do you think the criticism from other drivers such as Ward Benton or Paolo Vasquez is justified that you only have a seat in F1 because of your famous father?"

"Well, no it’s not justified, because I’m not just here because of my famous father… also because of my famous mother, who won in 3 Formula 1 seasons more races than Benton and Vasquez have won combined in over 11 seasons together." Enzo answered and some of the journalists laughed. Vasquez on the end of the right side of the sofa only clenched his jaw, glaring at him.

"So you don’t think it’s justified?"

"I worked my ass off to be here. I won every junior championship there is on the first attempt. Did I have it easier than others because I never had to think about the finances and never had to think about if I wouldn’t win the next race a sponsor might drop out and I wouldn’t have the money to continue? Yes. I know how privileged I am. I know that the chance that I have to race now in F1 is huge and I have to step up my game to prove that I deserve it. I know that better than anyone else. But to say I’m only here because of my famous last name? No. Not justified. Because right now my last name is more a curse than a blessing… everyone looks at my races, sees my name and asks themselves and that’s the son of Charles Leclerc and Lizzie Doetterer? So yeah… I know that my results aren’t promising, but I’m working hard on turning my season around…"

"Thank you Enzo…"

He smiled but I knew him better than anyone, I saw how defeated and frustrated he was, his shoulders tense.

"I want to go in there and hit them. All of them…" Lizzie was seething, seeing the pain in Enzo’s eyes.

"He handled that pretty well, better than I would have to be honest." I smiled a little and she nodded.

"Still. These kind of questions are unfair… and Benton and Vasquez? I want to hit them too…"

"It’s okay mama bear. I want to hit them too. Or run them over…" I joked and she chuckled a little, then threw all of her stuff into her bag "And now you’re leaving me to look after him… fair enough…" I got up.

"Mama bear has to look for her cub, no?" she laughed and kissed my cheek when she spotted something behind me and I turned around.

Between our motorhome and the Mercedes one all the drivers from the press conference and some more were standing huddled together, Enzo, Benton, Vasquez in the middle, looking at each other like they would kill one other any minute. I walked towards the exit and opened the door, but stopped when I heard the dispute.

"Just admit it, without your famous Dad, you wouldn’t even be here." Benton rolled his eyes.

"Yeah just that he’s a failed mini Leclerc, right?" Vasquez sneered.

"Mini Leclerc-Doetterer… and at least I’m having my parents last name, they weren’t ashamed of me… can’t say that about you and your old man, never once world champion Carlos Sainz jr." Enzo smiled, everyone now staring at Vasquez "Oh right. I forgot. No one knew who your daddy was… well oops… now they know. Now they all know how you made it to F1… because let’s face it, without your dad and his influence in Williams, you wouldn’t be here… you didn’t even drive in any junior series. Straight from karting to F3 and then without a title nothing into F1. Where you drive now for 4 seasons, and only won one race because of a penalty and two disqualifications."

"I swear to god, Leclerc, shut the fuck up or…" Vasquez began when I cleared my throat, making all the drivers flinch.

"Charles." Marco, one of my drivers said and I looked at him "They were just about to go to our teams."

"Yeah… right." Benton said, pulling Vasquez with him, who glared at me.

"Tell your dad I said hi." I shouted after him and then turned around, only Enzo left, Lizzie behind me looking at him.

"Enzo Leclerc! Do you have anything to say?" she sounded mad, but there was something else in her voice, and if I wasn’t mistaken it sounded a little like pride.

"I’m sick of them asking me the same questions again and again! I’m sick of everyone saying I’m only here because of you!" he said looking at us but I shook my head.

"You can’t listen to that, Enzo. You have to ignore it. They will use that against you again and again."

"I know, okay? But it sucks still." he mumbled and Lizzie walked towards him.

"I know Enzo, believe me when I arrived in F1 I had to go through the same… but just because they have this opinion of you, doesn’t mean that they’re right, okay? Do the talking on track. That’s what I did. And your dad as well… just don’t give a fuck about them."

"Hey!" I pinched her side and she laughed "No curse words!"

"Whatever." she rolled her eyes.

"What I’m saying is, you made it this far because of your talent. You’re a damn good driver and it’s time that you finally see that yourself, don’t give a fuck about others, and just focus on yourself. Your race. Your team. You. Don’t listen to anything else." Lizzie nudges his shoulder and I nodded.

"Your mum is right. Always when I had a shitty season and I was too much in my head everything got worse, but the moment I stopped caring about others and started focusing on myself, it was always like the penny dropped and I was able to turn the season around."

"You know how uncle Danny always said fuck 'em all? Well… that’s the kind of attitude you need now… but please stay within the rules…" Lizzie chuckled and Enzo nodded.

"Alright… you’re right. I have to focus on myself." he said and hugged Lizzie, then me "I’m sorry dad, but Marco and Lucas won’t win this weekend. It’s my turn…" he winked once and then walked off.

"Well, I guess you have to talk to your drivers…" Lizzie said and I cocked an eyebrow "They have to watch out for Enzo. If he’s like you? He’s a menace and will force them into making mistakes that he will use to overtake…"

"That was more your field of expertise…"

"Congrats Zo! Damn what a race! Emmie and I woke up the entire hotel." Elio said and Emmie next to him nodded.

"You really kicked some asses today. I’m proud little bro. Seriously. The face of Vasquez and Benton? Priceless. I swear. I can’t wait to talk about it in my next podcast. You should be one of my guests!" Emmie said excitedly and Enzo smiled from ear to ear.

"If I can say whatever I want to? Yes. No PR trained answers. Just what I have to say…"

"Enzo…" Lizzie mumbled and I laughed.

"Maybe tone it down a little, you still have to race for a while with these guys…" I said and Enzo shrugged his shoulders a little.

"How’s New York? The campus? Tell me everything!" he asked and Elio and Emmie began to describe every single detail of their trip.

I looked at Lizzie, how she smiled at our kids, squeezed into Enzo’s side so she could see Emmie and Elio on the screen. She looked up and tilted her head a little and I nodded towards the door and got off the sofa, Lizzie following me.

"What’s up?" she asked and I grabbed her by the waist, kissing her "As much as I like that, something is going on in here…" she tapped at my forehead with her fingers and I smiled.

"Marco will retire at the end of this season…" I began and her eyes widened "John wants Enzo, but only if he proves himself… today was… today was amazing, but he needs more weekends like this."

"And you doubt that he will have them?"

"No! God, cara mia!" I said immediately, shaking my head "I just don’t want to put him under too much pressure. You know? But I also want him to race every weekend like today. If he continues like this? He’ll be driving for us next season."

"You won’t tell him, right?" Lizzie asked and I shook my head.

"I wasn’t even allowed to tell you… but we have no secrets so…"

"Don’t worry, I won’t tell him. He will do just fine, you’ll see. He doesn’t need our help. Not anymore. And if so, he knows he can always come to us…"

"You’re right. He’ll manage." I kissed her cheek and looked at the sofa, where Enzo was telling Elio and Emmie everything about his final overtake of Marco.

He would make it. He would prove that he deserves a seat at Ferrari. He would do just great.

Summer 2048:

"Here, cara mia." Charles handed me a glass of wine and sat down next to me "What are you thinking about?"

"Oh nothing…" I said quietly, but he pinched my side.

"We’re married for almost 23 years, together for more than 25 years, I know you for over 40 years… I know when something is going on in there… so spill the beans…" he pulled me into him, kissing my temple.

"It’s just… Charles we’re 50… our kids are successful young adults. Emmie’s podcast is in the top 10 of the most influential Formula 1 podcasts, one of Elio’s photographs was used in the newest National Geographic magazine and Enzo just won his first race in Formula 1… isn’t it crazy?" I said and Charles was quiet for a while, before he chuckled "What?"

"It’s crazy… you’re right. But it’s wonderfully crazy, don’t you think? Our kids are truly amazing, they go their own way, are their own people, but never forget where they’re coming from…" he said and I nodded.

"Who would’ve thought that this would be our life one day…"

"Me. From the moment I realised that I was in love with you. This was what I was hoping for. You and me. 3 kids. A wonderful house you made into our home. That was the life I was dreaming of…" he whispered and I turned a little, looking at him "I told you before that from the moment I met you, you were intertwined in my brain, my thoughts, my mind, every fibre of my body. You were it for me. I know I took a stupid detour, but at the end of the day it was just that, a detour, just a stupid bump in the road to my destiny. You."

"I always loved how you were able to say things like that out of nowhere…" I smiled at him and he chuckled.

"You’re the biggest inspiration there is." he cupped my cheeks and kissed me, time stopped and for a moment it felt like our very first kiss all those years ago in Miami, after I crashed out, after Charles confessed his feelings for me. I opened my eyes and looked at him. The little freckles on his skin, the gold speckles in his eyes. The boyish smile with his gorgeous dimples. For a moment it all came back and I saw the young boy I fell in love with all those years ago before my eyes.

"I love you, Charles Leclerc."

"I love you, Lizzie Doetterer-Leclerc."

"It’s you and me. Against the world…"

"…always."

The End ♥️

And that’s it. Again, thank you all for reading. It’s been one hell of a ride. ♥️

(Also, congrats Charles on WINNING Monza!!!)

Please leave a comment/ like/ reblog/ message and tell me how you liked it! I'm dying to hear your thoughts!

Last but not least, English is not my first language and although I tried my best: please excuse any mistakes I made!

Taglist:

@itsjustkhaos @eugene-emt-roe @sunny44 @silkenthusiasts @glitterquadricorn @aundercover @kakorrhaphiphobia @alittlebitofbooksandmagic @ru-kru @shimmermotorsport @janeh22 @kahhorri @18754389 @chiliwhore @hellowgoodbye @queensassybitchsworld @harrysdimple05 @skynel09 @fangirlforever2000

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tswaney17 · 5 months

Text

I Do Bad Things with You - Part 49

It's here!!! The final part of this massive fic. 😭 I can't believe we're finally at the end. I'm still in shock that I get to close the door on this fic that has taken up the last three years of my life. I have so many emotions running through me right now. 🥺

The epilogue will be posted during @elriel-month in addition to a little surprise I'm so excited to share with you. Stay tuned!! 💜💙💚

My fanfic account: @tswaney17fics

My ao3 account: tswaney17

Please let me know what you think about this update. I love getting your feedback. Constructive criticism is always welcome. 💕

Catch up here.

Credit to @featherymalignancy for Cassian’s nickname, Cash. 😘

Trigger warnings: violence, sexual assault , language, NSFW

This part also features descriptions of birth and complications from it.

Word Count: 7,225

Elain had spent a good portion of the late morning getting ready for the baby shower scheduled for noon. At just over eight months pregnant, they were cutting close to the wire of the twins’ arrival.

She was beyond exhausted. Growing the babies was work enough, but she ached everywhere at this point. Her boobs, her hips, her ankles. Her back…that hurt the worst. She looked like she swallowed two extra large watermelons. Elain hadn’t seen her feet in two and half months and she was praying that her toenails looked well enough for sandals today.

On top of her aching body, she also slept like shit the night before, having woken up in the wee hours with Braxton Hicks contractions that seemed to never want to go away. They were getting obnoxious at this point.

Oh! And her boobs had already started leaking. Aside from the contractions, Elain also woke up to a soaked sleep shirt and an attitude that poor Azriel was desperately trying to keep calm. She felt bad that her irritation got directed at him, but he took her mood swings in stride, giving her the space when she needed it, and focusing on taking care of Kaden and getting him ready for the party.

Her husband knocked lightly before entering their bedroom, shutting the door behind him and locking it when he saw her standing there in an ugly pair of panties and a strapless bra—which she had no idea how it was going to hold up her tits, but here they were. “Hello, my love. How are you doing?” he asked, striding further into their room. He was already dressed in black slacks and a white button-down rolled up to his elbows. It was one of her favorite looks on him. Casual but classy and sexy as hell.

“I’m all right. Better than this morning,” which was true. In the time she took to get ready, she felt her irritation slowly dissipate. “I’m sorry for snapping at you.”

He gifted her a soft smile he reserved only for her and their children. “El, you’re carrying two babies. You’re allowed to let out your frustrations. I’m here to spar if you need it, you know that.”

She knew he meant spar as in letting her yell and shout and hiss words until she felt better while he just took it. Gods, he really was the perfect husband. Elain held out her coco butter lotion towards him. “Do you mind rubbing this on me and helping me dress?”

Azriel took the bottle from her outstretched hands, dropping a sweet kiss on her plump lips before squirting some into his scarred palms and gently rubbing it all over her swollen stomach. He knelt before her, dutifully getting every inch of her covered. “You are so beautiful, Elain,” he murmured, kissing her at the fullest part of her belly.

She snorted. “I am a beached whale who ate too much.”

“You are a gorgeous woman carrying life inside of her womb. That will always be beautiful, sweetheart.”

How he always knew what to say was beyond her, but she tugged him up off the ground to kiss him thoroughly. It should’ve annoyed her with how just a few sweeps of Azriel’s tongue had every concern and irritation simply melt away. He knew when to play that card and fuck did he play it well.

But even his tongue couldn’t stop the hiss of pain as another contraction wracked her body.

He immediately pulled back at the sound, eyes scanning her face. “Are you all right?” he asked, concern etched into the tone.

She breathed through the wave that tightened in her abdomen. “Braxton Hicks contractions,” she said as an explanation.

His brows shot into his hairline. “Do we need to go to the hospital?”

Elain reached up to cup his cheek in her palm, her thumb swiping over the stubble there. “No, it’s a normal thing this late in the pregnancy. I’ve had a few this morning starting before dawn. It’s why I was grouchy.”

Understanding lit his face and he carefully ran his hand down her stomach again. “Why didn’t you wake me this morning?”

She huffed a laugh. “Because I knew you’d go into full-birthing-dad-mode and neither one of us would’ve slept any longer.”

Azriel shot her an unamused glare. “You will be thanking me for that birthing-dad mode when you’re in labor and I have everything packed up within minutes.”

This time Elain laughed loud and joyfully. “Yes, you’re probably right.” She nodded to the dress on the bed. “Help me slip that on?”

He grabbed the fabric, bunching it in his large fists, and pulled it over her head. It was an off-the-shoulder, loose, pale pink cotton dress, decorated with roses. It looked vintage, gathering just under her bust, with oversized puffy sleeves that sat off her shoulders, over her biceps. Ruffles accentuated the bottom hem, emphasizing the vintage style. It was the perfect spring dress. When Elain first saw it at the store, she knew she had to buy it for the shower.

Azriel tugged her loose curls from the back of the dress, letting them brush against her spine. He placed a kiss on her bare shoulder before grabbing the rose-pendant necklace he bought to go with the dress and draping it around her delicate neck. “Perfect,” he murmured onto her skin, his smile pressing against her neck.

Elain sighed softly, reaching up to thread her fingers through his dark hair. “How am I still horny for you?”

He nipped at her throat, a rumble shaking his chest. “Because you know I can deliver what you need without even blinking.”

This time she laughed, letting his hands run across her body in possessive little touches.

Azriel brazenly cupped her sex through the dress, growling as she let out a mewling sound and began to writhe against those skilled fingers, searching for the friction she desperately craved. “Would you like to fuck my hand, love?” he murmured, mouth grazing her jaw.

Elain fell slack against him, letting his strength hold her up. “Az,” she breathed, eyes fluttering shut as he began to rub her in earnest. “Please.”

He nipped the curve of her ear, tugging the lobe between his teeth. “You beg so prettily, El.” Bunching up the dress in a fist, Azriel slid her panties aside, swiping his fingers over her soaked pussy. “Fuck, baby. You’re so wet for me. Always desperate for my touch.”

She gripped him, nails digging into his exposed forearms. “I need—I need,” she panted out, wiggling in his hold. “Please, Az.”

Giving her exactly what she wanted—needed—Azriel sunk his middle finger into her aching cunt, pumping once before adding a second digit. “Such a good girl,” he whispered, thrusting in and out of her. The heel of his palm grazed her clit sending bolts of pleasure up her spine.

Elain bit her lip, stifling the moan that threatened to burst from her. His fingers scraped along that special spot inside of her, building her up and up and up until she teetered on the edge of bliss.

Barely conscious of her surroundings, Elain caught the sound of the door handle jiggling, followed by a “Momma!”

Azriel clapped a hand over her mouth as he continued his machinations. “Momma’s getting dressed, Kaden. We’ll be out in a minute,” he called out, pressing his palm firmly on her clit and sending her spiraling into her orgasm.

Too far gone to care, she tumbled into sweet oblivion, coming hard on his fingers. Elain moaned, only quieted by the muffling against her husband’s scarred hand.

He worked her through her release, slowing his movements when she started to come down from her high. Az peppered her skin with sweet kisses, removing his fingers from her pussy and readjusting her panties back into place before letting the dress fall back down. “Better, my love?”

“I’m gonna have to change my underwear, but yes.” She twisted in his arms, catching him sucking his fingers clean. Elain brought his mouth down to hers, tongue licking the drop of her release dotting his bottom lip. “Thank you, husband.”

He smiled into their kiss, deepening it once more. “I’ll go check on Kaden while you finish up. We’ll head out when you’re done.”

Twenty minutes later, they were in the car on their way to Rhys and Feyre’s place. It was a gorgeous day full of sunshine, the air warm with the oncoming of summer. It was as if even the Mother wanted to grace her presence on that day with her radiance. They really couldn’t have asked for a more beautiful day for a baby shower.

“Momma?” Kaden called from the back seat. “Where are we going?”

His speech had improved so much since they first brought him home that the therapist they hired had told them after the end of the school year, that he likely wouldn’t need to continue seeing a specialist to catch him up. He was reading and writing the way a five-year-old should be and was on track to pass kindergarten with flying colors.

She glanced over her shoulder at him. “Remember how we talked about going to Aunt Feyre and Uncle Rhys’s for the baby shower today.”

He seemed to think about that. “What’s a baby shower?”

Her lips quirked up at his curious mind. Thankfully, he hadn’t asked about where babies came from again. “It’s a party to celebrate the upcoming arrival of your brother and sister.” Her hand came to rest on her belly instinctively.

His face scrunched up. “Will I have to take a bath again?”

Azriel let out a snort, glancing at her. “It’s a fair question.”

She laughed. “No, sweetheart. Not that kind of shower. To shower with love. The party is just to celebrate the babies before they arrive.”

“Will there be cake?” he asked, excitement lighting up his face at the prospect of sweets.

“For my sister’s sake, there better be.” Elain’s late-stage pregnancy craving was anything sweet. Cookies, cakes, pastries, whatever she could get her hands on, she was eating it. Azriel was barely able to keep the pantry stocked with desserts for her to snack on.

Her husband chuckled. “If she doesn’t, we’ll stop by a bakery on our way home and get each of you a cake. How’s that sound?” he asked, grasping her hand and bringing it to his mouth to kiss her knuckles.

She grinned. “You spoil me.”

He looked at her then. “You deserve to be spoiled.”

They were fashionably late to their baby shower, and Elain completely blamed her husband’s morning sexual charade for the delay in their arrival. Not that she minded at all. She had another Braxton Hick contraction in the car, Azriel eying her with worry and once again asking if they should make a pitstop at the hospital just in case.

But that would’ve made them even more late and Elain knew it was unnecessary.

All of their friends and family were waiting for their arrival. And she hated being late.

“What am I going to do with you gone for six months, Elain?” Thesan teased, taking a sip of his beer.

She shot a devilish grin at the head nurse sitting on the couch across from her. “I’m sure Viv would love to pick up all the slack.”

Viviane squawked in outrage and pointed a menacing finger in her direction. “Don’t put your work on me while you’re enjoying your babymoon, Elain Archeron-Knight.”

The group laughed as she pushed herself up off the couch. Another contraction hit her and she winced, catching the attention of the sharp-eyed nurse. But before she could ask, Kaden came bounding up to her, tugging on the skirt of her dress.

“Momma, can I have a cake pop?” He looked up at her with those damn puppy eyes he knew she couldn’t resist.

Elain ran a hand through his hair. “Sure, sweetie. Only one. You don’t want to spoil your appetite for Uncle Cassian’s good barbeque.”

Said uncle was out in the backyard tending to the grill with her husband, Rhys, and the Moonbeam brothers because, apparently, that’s where men gathered. Aelin and Rowan had joined them, the former getting an eyebrow raise from Azriel at her company’s appearance.

She made her way to the kitchen, hoping to perhaps score one of those cake pops herself—she was the guest of honor, surely she could snag one too. Feyre, Nuala, and Cerridwen had been busy putting together the final touches for lunch and were just waiting for Cassian’s proteins to serve food.

But just as she reached the breakfast bar, a wave of excruciating pain washed over her. Catching herself on the counter, Elain gripped the side of her stomach, groaning loud enough that the other room went silent. And then she felt it. Liquid surged between her legs, puddling the floor beneath her.

No. No, it was too soon. They couldn’t be coming already.

Viviane rounded the corner from the living room as Feyre and the twins approached her.

Somebody breathed her name, but she couldn’t decipher who it was over the blood rushing in her ears.

More footsteps sounded as her friends and family came from the living room to see what was going on.

“Elain.” It was Feyre’s voice that broke through the fog of fear that had clouded her, but she was too numb to respond. Too nervous. “Somebody get Azriel!”

Her panic grew and her breathing turned shallow. It was too soon. She wasn’t ready, wasn’t prepared enough. The anxiety of giving birth hit her like a freight train.

She couldn’t do this.

She couldn’t.

~~~~~

Azriel took a swig of his beer, rolling his eyes at the cad comment Rhys made. His tanned skin warmed in the sunlight even with the sleeves of his button-down rolled up to his elbows. With a glance at the large window, he caught Elain rising from her spot on the couch, Kaden gripping her dress to speak with her.

Gods, that fucking dress. Elain looked like a maternal goddess in it, emphasizing her swollen belly, brimming with the life of his children. Az never realized he had a breeding kink until he and Elain got back together. His desire to fill her with his seed, to watch her grow with life had him hardening in his pants.

Now at eight months, she had reached the stage where little things irked the hell out of her. Honestly, her temper was cute as hell, but he tried to be considerate of her exhaustion and short-fuse, offering himself up to take the heat of her ire. It was only fair—he’s the one that got her pregnant.

It may have made him a primitive, alpha-douchebag, but fuck did he love to see her waddling around, pregnant and barefoot in their home. She was already such a wonderful mother to their boy, Kaden. Cassian had been right. He was so incredibly grateful for Elain’s maternal instinct.

“Something caught your eye, brother?” Cassian taunted, grinning. His brother knew exactly what he was looking at. Or whom.

He shot him a dry look that had Cash chuckling.

“If she wasn’t already pregnant, I’d say that look alone could’ve knocked her up,” he teased. “Who knew you had such a kink, Az.”

Azriel opened his mouth to retort, but the sliding glass door opening caught his attention.

Nuala peeked her head out, a worried look on her face that had his stomach tightening in knots. “Azriel! Get in here now!”

But he was already moving, dropping his drink on the table and running after her into the house, his brothers and friends hot on his heels. He froze in the entryway of the kitchen, taking in the scene for a split second before his eyes settled on Elain bent over the counter, a puddle of clear liquid beneath her.

His feet ate up the space between them in three long strides, her name falling from his lips as he cupped her face and forced her gaze on his. Azriel prided himself in knowing exactly what Elain was feeling, what she was thinking by just the look on her face. He read her better than he did himself. So, seeing the blatant apprehension and worry written as clearly as a tattoo on her forehead had his heart racing in his chest.

Her eyes were wet with the tears he could tell she was trying to hold back.

“Love,” he said quietly, unsure how to proceed at the moment.

She blinked like hearing him cleared a bit of the fog that had washed over her. “Azriel.” Her voice cracked.

He folded her into his arms, trying to soothe whatever worries were troubling her. “You’re okay, my love.”

Elain seemed to melt in his embrace, her tension slowly ebbing away the longer he held her. He gave her whatever time she needed, ignoring the audience they had around them, but it was long enough for another contraction to hit. She cried out, gripping his hand in hers and squeezing tight.

Viviane snapped into action at that. “Azriel, her contractions are about nine minutes apart now. She’s going to have at least two more by the time you reach the hospital.”

“No hospitals,” Elain growled.

That had him pulling back to look down at her. “El, the babies are coming—”

“No. Hospitals.” He could see the wavering in her face. “I—,” she paused, hesitating. “They’re not ready. It’s too early. Too soon. They can’t come out yet…” Her head fell until she was looking at the wetness still sitting on the floor. “I’m not ready,” Elain whispered so quietly, that he almost missed it.

Azriel knew that was nerves speaking. While Kaden made them parents, the idea of giving birth to the twins was the primary source of her fear. The books he read said that many expectant mothers experienced this type of anxiety right around the time they went into labor. If they were going to have any success in her having a smooth birth, Azriel needed to get her to calm down. He glanced at Cassian. “Can you get her a chair?”

His brother grabbed one from the dining room, setting it out for Az to carefully guide Elain into. He knelt in front of her, keeping her hands clasped firmly in his. “Elain, sweetheart,” her dark eyes latched onto his, needing to hear his reassurance. He kept his voice low, wishing they didn’t have to have this conversation in front of their friends and family.

Rhys seemed to sense that and began ushering people out of the room. “Let’s give the couple a few minutes.”

He shot his brother a grateful look before returning his attention to Elain. “Sweetheart, I know you’re scared. I know it’s earlier than we were expecting. But if there is one thing that I am certain of is that you can do this.” He squeezed her hands in comfort. “You are the strongest person I know. You’ve been through so much that once all is said and done, you’re going to look at me and tell me that this was the easy part. I promise you that if anyone can do this, it’s you. And I will be right by your side for every step, holding your hand, giving you ice chips, and bearing whatever you need me to bear to bring our children into the world.”

She sniffed, a small smile tugging at her lips. “You’re sure?”

“Without a doubt, Elain. You can do this.” He brought their joined hands up to his mouth, kissing her fingers and letting her absorb whatever confidence she needed. “So, what do you say? Are you ready to have our babies, love?”

Elain huffed a laugh, his words settling the nerves she had. “Yes, let’s go have our babies,” she breathed, her grin taking over her entire face, lasting all of thirty seconds before a look of panic took root once more. “Az, the birthing bag is still at the house.”

He let out an undignified snort. “Do you think after having that contraction in front of me this morning, I’d leave the house without having absolutely everything packed and ready to go? Come on, baby, you know me better than that. It’s all in the back of the car.”

She blinked in surprise. “The birthing bag and my pillow?”

“In the car,” he confirmed.

“Kaden’s overnight bag?”

“In the car.”

“The car seats for the twins?”

He scoffed. “You know I installed those weeks ago, try again.”

Her lips quired up at the corner. “What about the slippers I was wearing this morning?” she asked, thinking she had him.

Az rolled his eyes in playful exasperation. “I grabbed them when I snagged the birthing bag.” He kissed her hands again. “I’ve got you, love.”

And then she was leaning forward, kissing him with so much love and devotion, he felt it down to the soul she brought back to life. The sound of their family’s cheers forced them apart, a pretty blush dusting the tops of Elain’s cheeks, but she didn’t dare look away from him.

Without looking away from her, Azriel reached into his pocket, pulled out his keys, and tossed them to Rhys. “Can you grab Kaden’s bag from the trunk? The one with dinosaurs. And then Elain’s purple one as well.”

Elain’s brows furrowed in confusion. “Why is he grabbing mine?”

His lips pulled up into a knowing grin, brushing the shell of her ear as he leaned forward to whisper, “I thought you might like to change your underwear and put on a maternity pad for the ride to the hospital.”

Her cheeks heated in embarrassment, but she nodded in agreement.

A little body shuffled closer. “Momma?” Kaden murmured, looking so very worried over the state of his mother.

She held her arms out, motioning him forward. “C’mere sweetheart.” Elain tucked him into her chest, kissing the top of his head. “You’re going to stay here with Aunt Feyre and Uncle Rhys while Daddy and I go to the hospital to have your brother and sister.”

He looked up at her with those puppy-dog eyes and damn, the kid knew how to work them. “But I want to go with you!” His lower lip quivered and Azriel could tell he was on the verge of tears.

But his wife took it in stride, cupping his little face in her palms and swiping her thumbs across his cheeks. “I know, sweetheart. I know you do. But you’ll have a much better time here with your aunt and uncle. Momma’s not going to be fun to be around until your siblings are here.” She kissed his plump cheek. “But I promise that you will be the first to see us once they arrive. Okay?”

Feyre stepped forward, reaching out a hand for their son. “Come on, Kaden. We’ll have lots of fun eating all the desserts left over.” She shot them a wink when he finally relented, taking her fingers.

After cleaning her up as best as he could and getting her a maternity pad from her bag, he and Elain were in the car on the way to the hospital. As Viviane predicted, she had two more contractions on the way, grabbing his offered hand and the “oh shit” bar as she groaned her way through it. And then promptly went into a third one right as they arrived.

Az timed them out, still sitting about nine minutes apart. “Breathe, baby. Good, love. Just like that.” His thumb grazed the back of her hand. Her grip was tight, on the verge of painful, but he didn’t dare let his face flinch or show an ounce of discomfort. She needed his strength and that’s exactly what he was going to give her.

They were immediately escorted to their private room and Elain’s vitals were checked over. She was sitting at only two centimeters dilated, which meant they were looking at being there for a bit.

Between her contractions, he swapped out his clothes for a fitted black t-shirt and grey sweatpants to get more comfortable and then sent a text to their siblings to notify them that they were in and settled, but it would be a while before they would have any progress.

“Can you check in with Kaden?” Elain asked, taking a scoop of ice chips from her cup.

The corner of his lips curled up at the question. “I already did. Feyre said he wouldn’t leave the front window for a while and had to persuade him with his baby cousin and a lot of sweet treats.”

She snorted, shaking her head. “He’s going to have a mouth full of cavities before we get home.” Elain twisted to look at him. “Do you think we made the right decision by not letting him come with us? It sounds like he’s waiting for us to return. I know that some families let their little ones be present for the birth of their siblings and we discussed it—”

He interrupted her train of thought. “I think we made the right call, love. We’re going to be here for a while and we both know that things can upset him. I don’t know how well he’d handle watching you go through that.”

She nodded but didn’t look very convinced.

Azriel reached for her hand, covering it with his own and squeezing her fingers. “He’s safe and well-cared for. Remember that while we focus on bringing his little brother and sister into the world.” He brushed his lips over her knuckles in a sweet kiss.

Elain smiled softly at him. “Okay.”

And so, they waited.

Per his wife’s birthing plan, she wanted to attempt to go natural. Azriel admired her strength and resilience in doing so. But after over sixteen hours of hard labor, he could see her resolve fading.

He stroked her cheek, fingers brushing hair behind her ear. “Talk to me, sweetheart.”

Dark circles already lined the underneath part of her eyes. She looked so weary. “I’m so tired, Az.” Her voice came out nearly broken and fuck if that didn’t just rip his beating heart from his chest.

Kissing her forehead, he murmured, “Do you want to get the epidural? It’ll help you get some much-needed rest before the delivery.” As of now, she was only at seven centimeters and the doctor had said it could still be a while longer until she reached a full ten.

Her chin dipped in confirmation. “Please.”

Azriel didn’t waste time calling for the nurse. Within ten minutes, he watched as a grossly large needle was inserted into her back, sending that relief washing over her. He peppered her face with kisses during the procedure, murmuring words of praise and comfort in her ear as she gritted her teeth through it.

Elain spent the next eight hours in a fitful sleep, dosing off and waking up not long after each time. Azriel didn’t bother to try and sleep, not when she wasn’t really getting much at all.

But finally, after just past nine, she was fully dilated and ready to push.

His wife pushed and pushed and pushed for a half hour with nothing to show for it. She was in tears, frustrated, and so exhausted he was practically supporting all her weight having slid an arm around her shoulders to keep her upright.

“I can’t, I can’t,” she sobbed, half burying her face into his chest.

“You can, love. You’re so strong. Just a little bit more,” he tried to reassure her. It fucking killed him to see her like this.

“Can’t you do it for me?” she pleaded, looking up at him with wild, desperate eyes.

He gripped her cheek in his palm, kissing her temple. “You know I would, El. I would give anything to switch places with you right now. But I know you can do this. Just a few more pushes and then they’ll be here.”

Whatever she read within his words seemed to do the trick, her brows furrowing with a determination he hadn’t seen since they left the house. Elain pushed herself up, trying to get into a kneeling position, and he was right there, sliding behind her and supporting her weight.

The nurses squawked, muttering something about hospital policy, but frankly, he did not give a fuck, snarling, “Her body is telling her to push like this. Listen to your fucking patient.”

Changing the position was exactly what she needed because their son was born within the next two contractions, entering the world with a healthy set of lungs.

They sagged back against the pillows, his face wet with tears as they placed their new baby directly on Elain’s bared chest. He couldn’t stop himself from tipping her head back to kiss her softly on the lips, pausing the savor the moment.

Az traced the pads of his fingers over the curve of their boy’s cheek, just needing to touch him to prove he was here with them. Even covered in fluids, he was so beautiful. The perfect blend of the two of them.

The nurses gave them just a few minutes with the first baby before Doctor Chen said that she needed to start pushing again. She took their boy from Elain’s arms, promising to bring him back for Azriel after he was cleaned up and their daughter was born.

Delivery of their little girl went easier than with their son. But whereas their boy came out crying, their daughter came out silent.

Azriel knew something was wrong just by the silence, but it only grew the anxiety in his stomach when the doctor turned her back on them, taking their little one with her to work on.

“She’s not crying,” Elain breathed, worry clouding her voice.

He could only squeeze her shoulders in comfort, watching as they shoved things into her nose and mouth.

“Suction,” Chen ordered.

“Azriel, why isn’t she crying?”

“She’s going to be okay, love. They’re helping her. She’s okay.” The words passed his lips even as his heart dropped into his stomach when they started doing compressions on her tiny body.

No.

This couldn’t be happening. They couldn’t lose her. It would kill him to lose his little girl, but Elain, fuck, he couldn’t even begin to fathom the devastation she would face at this loss. There was nothing he could do. He couldn’t pay to fix this or threaten someone to save their baby girl.

So, he did what any father would do.

He prayed.

He prayed to every god, every deity, everything, and anything he could think of to keep his little girl safe and bring her back to them. To take her place if they demanded it. A life for a life. He’d pay it for his child, his family. “Come on,” he murmured. “Come on, baby. Come on.”

Elain curved her face into the side of his chest, howling in a way he’d never heard from her before.

His arms went around her, that dreaded feeling turning his blood cold. The terror he felt of their little one dead before she lived was unlike anything he’d ever experienced. But still, he did not stop praying, clutching Elain’s shaking body to his. “Come on, little one. Come on!” he chanted. “Please.”

And then, a rattled cough tore from her tiny body, followed by the sweet, beautiful sound of her cry.

Elain’s wail turned into relieved sobs, as the doctor walked over their bundled little girl and placed her into his wife’s awaiting arms.

“Somebody was just so excited to meet you, she took a breath a little too early, but we cleared out her passages and lungs and she looks good now.”

His wife tucked their daughter into her chest, kissing the top of her head. “Hi sweet girl, Momma’s here,” she whispered, tears still falling down her cheeks. Tears that matched the ones running down his face.

She was here. His baby girl. Fuck, she looked just like him, with dark hair and tanned skin. He hadn’t gotten a look at her eyes yet, but already she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

“Here you go, Mr. Archeron-Knight,” one of the other nurses said, pulling his attention from his wife and daughter as she handed him his son, cleaned up and wrapped in a soft blanket.

The small bundle was gently laid in the crook of his elbow. Azriel didn’t think he’d ever feel the amount of love he did on Kaden’s adoption day, but sitting here with his gorgeous wife, holding their newborn twins, he felt his heart soar in his chest.

Sweaty and fatigued, Elain glanced up at his face, the sweetest, exhausted smile pulling on her lips. “I love you,” she murmured.

He let out a sound that was a cross between a chuckle and a sob. “I love you more.” And then he kissed her, sealing that moment in time with his undying love for her.

~~~~~

Elain woke to the sound of a whimpering cry, swiftly followed by Azriel’s low voice.

“Hey, sweet girl. What’s wrong, huh?” She heard some shuffling as her husband lifted their daughter from the nursery bed. “Momma needs her sleep so we need to be quiet.” He kept his voice low enough to not disturb her—fuck she loved him so much—but she was already awake, rolling over in the hospital bed to face him.

Azriel holding his children was, hands down, the sexiest thing she’d ever seen. How she could even feel the need for him after pushing two babies out of her currently aching and severely injured body was beyond her, but just watching him bounce their fussing daughter made all those desires come roaring to the surface.

Almost as if he could sense her presence, hazel eyes slid to hers. “I’ve got her, love. Go back to sleep.” His voice remained soft as night as if anything louder would disturb her.

She curled up on her side, watching him. “I think we should get used to no sleep now.”

He huffed a laugh, patting Rosalie on her back as she further settled into the crook of his elbow.

Their daughter was almost two pounds smaller than her brother, coming in right at five whereas Ryder was a healthy six pounds, fourteen ounces. The doctor was a little concerned over Rosalie’s lower birth weight, but Elain had managed to get both babies to latch and feed earlier and she ate well, so they were mainly playing it by ear.

Because of her smaller size, Azriel already placed an order for some preemie clothes and sent a photo of her with the twins to their siblings. They asked to give them a day to recuperate before coming to the hospital in the morning. After the scare with Rosalie, both she and Azriel wanted to take some time to spend with the babies. Plus, the medical team was in and out of their room, taking Rosalie for some additional tests just to be sure everything looked good.

It was just after seven that night, and they were settling in for the evening. Tired of hospital food, Azriel ordered hamburgers from DoorDash for them to eat. Elain was starving and it sounded so good that she drooled when she suggested it to him. Both babies had been fed only an hour earlier and she anticipated not having another feeding till late evening or early morning.

Elain grabbed whatever sleep she could, knowing she’d need it when they were released in a couple of days, but she was sure Azriel hadn’t slept a wink since she’d gone into labor.

She pushed herself up, reclining on her pillows. The nurses cleaned her after the delivery and stitched her up from tearing, but Elain couldn’t wait to get home and take a proper shower. “Does she need to be changed?” she asked, nodding to the now-sleeping baby in her husband’s arms.

Azriel shook his head. “No, I think she was just fussing.” His dark hair was still mussed up from when he stripped out of his shirt earlier, taking time for skin-to-skin contact with each of the twins.

Elain had to rein in her laugh at how the nurse blushed as he revealed miles of gloriously tanned, tattooed skin and corded muscle. Her husband was a fine specimen, but he never flaunted it, so seeing another woman react to it was humorous especially since he didn’t even seem to notice her blushing, stammering state.

“You should sleep too, Az,” she said instead.

He looked at her, his lips curving up. It had been doing that a lot since the birth of the twins. The sweetest, smallest smile that crept up the corners of his mouth. Almost as if he didn’t even realize he was doing it. It was utterly adorable and made him look younger. “I’ll rest later. You need it more than me.”

Her shoulders shook in amusement. “You know, we can sleep when they do.”

“I just don’t want to miss a second of them.” His attention returned to his little girl who already had him wrapped around her finger. To be fair, all of their children did. “Fuck, I can’t believe they’re here already. It seems like it was only a month ago you found out you were pregnant.”

“I can’t believe our first anniversary is coming up in just a handful of weeks.”

At that, he laughed. “I guess a trip for our anniversary is out of the question?”

She grinned. “Not unless all our little ones are coming with us.” Because like hell was she going to be able to leave them so soon. Plus with her nursing, it just wouldn’t be ideal.

He seemed to consider her. “We could take the jet to the Summer District. Kaden will be out of school then and we’ll both still be out on leave. Just a thought.”

Gods, he was fucking perfect. “That might be nice.”

A knock on the door interrupted whatever he was going to say. He frowned in confusion, looking at her.

Elain shrugged, sitting up further on her bed. “Come in,” she called out.

She thought it might be a nurse or a doctor, coming to check on her or the twins. What she didn’t expect was for Rhys to peek his head into the room. Surprise lit her features and she glanced at Azriel, who looked equally as bewildered at the sudden visit from their brother.

“Hey,” Rhys said. “I apologize for dropping by unannounced, but somebody really couldn’t wait till tomorrow to see you.” He opened the door slightly, revealing Kaden clutching a teddy bear, eyes puffy and red from crying.

Her heart ached at the distress their son must’ve been in for Rhys to come all the way here. “Hello sweetheart,” she said, keeping her voice soft. “Come here, my love.”

He took a small step further into the room, Rhys’s hand guiding him at the backside of his head. Kaden took slow steps as he approached the side of her bed. “Momma, are you sick?”

She reached out to cup his cheek in her palm. “No, baby. I’m not sick. Your brother and sister decided it was time to come out of my tummy.” Her eyes found Azriel’s as he rose from his seat on the couch, moving toward them. “Would you like to meet them?” she asked, returning her gaze to Kaden’s.

His head dipped in confirmation.

Elain pushed herself back even more. “Rhys, can you help him up and then grab me that flat pillow over there.”

He set the boy on the bed between her spread legs, Kaden shuffling backward and bumping into her sensitive lower area.

She hissed out in pain before she could stop herself. A wave of agony washed over her with enough intensity that her stomach curdled with nausea.

Azriel reacted immediately. “Easy, buddy. Momma’s going to be sore for a while and we need to be extra careful with her.”

“I’m okay,” she spoke quickly, not wanting to upset Kaden any more than he already was, and kissed his plump cheek as she breathed through the pain. “Okay, Rhys. Place the pillow over our laps.”

Adjusting his arms in preparation, Azriel gently lowered their daughter until she comfortably rested on the nursing pillow.

“Kaden, this is your sister, Rosalie,” he announced, letting his finger stroke her rounded cheek.

Elain couldn’t see his face directly, but she did catch his eyes widening as he stared down at her, his fingers carefully tracing over her delicate features just as his father did.

“Rosawee,” he said, not quite catching the ending syllable. It would be something they would have to work on. When she kicked a leg within her swaddle, he pulled his hand back, startled.

She laughed, feeling the bed dip as Azriel sat down next to them, bringing over their son. “And this is your brother, Ryder.”

He reached out to trace the outline of his brows, the touch gentle and exploratory. “I’m a brother?” he asked, turning his head to look up at her.

“That’s right sweetheart. You’re their big brother, and they’re going to love you so much,” she told him, kissing the top of his head.

Elain took in her family, her incredible husband, and three beautiful children. It sounded so wild to even think about. She was a wife and a mother. Thinking back, she remembered the day that had changed the trajectory of her life forever. The bank robbery a few years back. It was crazy to think how such a terrifying moment altered her life in the best of ways. It brought her back to the love of her life.

It put her on this very path.

She’d face every one of the moments since then tenfold as long as it brought her to this point in time, sitting here with her gorgeous little family.

“Perfect.”

She looked up at Rhys, catching him with his phone out.

“Your first family photo.”

Her lips turned up and silver lined her eyes. “Thank you, Rhys.”

He waved her off. “Do you want me to take Kaden back with me?”

“No,” Azriel said, ruffling his eldest son’s hair. “He can stay here with us tonight. Can you put his booster seat in our car? The keys are in my bag.”

“You got it.” He grabbed the keys but paused on the threshold. “And congratulations you guys. Rosalie and Ryder are beautiful.”

Azriel leaned further into her side, kissing her temple. “Thank you, brother.” Once alone, he turned her head toward his, bringing her mouth to his for a slow, sweet kiss. “I love you so damn much, Elain.”

His smile was infectious, making her lips turn up at the corners. “Thank you, Azriel, for giving me this life—these babies. You have made me the happiest I could ever imagine. I love you.”

“Momma! She’s got my finger,” Kaden’s giggle interrupted their moment.

They laughed, looking at their three beautiful children.

Elain knew that this perfect moment was just the very beginning of the rest of their lives.

~~~~~

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kingofbodyrolls · 2 months

Text

End of the World: epilogue (m) | myg

you think about all the shit you’ve been through, how far you’ve come and what you can look forward to in the future.

→ Pairing: Yoongi x reader (female) → Genres/AUs: post-apocalyptic, dystopian turning into utopian. Baby angst with fluff and hope. → Tropes: established relationship → Rating: mature/explicit/R18 (this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact.) → Word count: 0.9k → Warnings + triggers: mentions of the nuclear war, pregnancy, future, a cancer cure, dystopia turning into utopia? → Author’s note(1): this is just a really short drabble for the sweet anon that wanted to know if OC and Yoongi got cancer free or not, and also just an epilogue to the story [link to the request]. So here it is 💕 → Read on AO3? [link]

[navi]: end of the world // end of the world: a flickering hope // shower drabble // whalien52 // end of the world: epilogue

Your hand finds its way over your tummy. Your very round tummy.

You smile at your boyfriend, your rock through this whole nightmare of a world. And now you’re going to bring life into a broken, but healing world.

You had discussed endlessly as soon as you found out you were pregnant, debating if bringing a child into a dystopian world was even a good idea. The idea of putting a tiny human into this shattered world seemed impossible, but you and Yoongi didn’t use protection all the time, and it’s really your own fault. It was bound to happen sooner or later.

But you’re okay with it. The thought doesn’t seem as terrifying as it did a few years ago when the war started. That wouldn’t have been a good life to bring a child into. But now? With the way the world is gradually healing and things are beginning to be better, you think this time is alright. The New World Order is gone, there’s no longer an elitist group at the top, people are free to do as they please, and most importantly, all information is free.

You think of cancer, not just for you and Yoongi, but for many of the world’s population who suffered due to the radiation after the bombings. Seokjin has been working nonstop since Jimin got the important data from the New World Order. Sadly, it wasn’t a cure as you’d all hoped, but now, years later, Seokjin has practically been living in his lab. And he has finally succeeded in making a cure.

A cure for cancer.

You can hardly believe it, but he has.

You and Yoongi were the first to get it, and after, Seokjin studied your tissue and cells tirelessly to make sure that no cancer cells were left. And they’re all gone. You’re cancer free.

Seokjin has made a cancer cure that is free for everyone.

And you think the world is truly healing. People are happy again, people are smiling.

Cities are slowly being rebuilt. People can go to the doctor, dentist, and have showers—everything that was taken away when the nuclear war started. Everything is almost back to normal, but you can still feel the scars, and you think they’ll always be there. You must not forget all the horrible things that happened to make this possible for everyone.

The sun is shining every day. Sometimes it rains, sometimes it storms. The greenery is slowly getting its life back thanks to the sun and its photosynthesis. Watching trees, bushes, and plants grow is amazing to you, and it makes you feel alive. Hopeful.

You glance at Yoongi, his eyes filled with a tenderness that mirrors your own feelings. Together, you will bring new life into this world, nurturing it with the love and hope that has sustained you through the darkest times. You place your hand over his, resting on your belly, and in that simple touch, you feel the promise of a brighter future.

The nightmare of the last few years has been gruesome, and you’ve all endured so much, but you’ve finally made it, thanks to the wonderful people at Whalien52. You can’t imagine what you would have done without them.

Taehyung has helped build a house for you and Yoongi, a secluded sanctuary reminiscent of the one Yoongi had all those years ago. You can already picture its beauty in a few years when the greenery truly takes hold.

You meet up with the crew almost daily, cherishing their company. The guys have been joking about who should be a godfather to your unborn child. Even though you don’t really believe in God, you like the idea of someone taking care of your child in case something happens to you. And you already know that someone is Jungkook.

“Excited?” Yoongi asks, his hand finding its way on top of yours on your tummy again.

You hum softly. “Yeah,” you say, turning to face him. “I just hope everything will be fine.”

“Of course it will, babe,” he replies with conviction, his voice filled with so much emotion. “You’re strong and incredible. Think about all you’ve been through. You’ll be an amazing mom.”

You smile, hoping he’s right. You’ll borrow his words and repeat them to yourself over and over until they become true. You have been through so much—surviving a nuclear war, getting sick with cancer, getting shot, starving, and now being cured. It has been a hell of a ride, but you made it.

You kiss him deeply, lovingly.

You and Yoongi are now researchers working under Seokjin, trying to develop cures for other diseases. You truly want to save everyone. This dedication to research is also fueled by your desire to create the best possible world for your child. You want the best for them.

You gaze out the window from what will be your child’s room; the view outside is a mix of brown and green, mostly dirt, but grass is beginning to peek through the ground, and small trees are growing in the backyard. It’s going to be great. You’ve finally made it to the other side, and you wonder if this horrible dystopia you’ve endured will transform into a utopia one day.

“I’m so happy this wasn’t the end of the world,” you quip, Yoongi’s hand still resting on yours, on your tummy.

“Me too. It’s just the beginning,” he says, and you feel his words reverberate through your body. It truly is just the beginning—the beginning of a wonderful life for you, your child, and everyone else.

→ Taglist:@idkjustlovingbts@lovelgirl22@gimeow@sweeetas@viankiss @goldietigers294 @this-most-assuredly-counts @futuristicenemychaos @funnygirls-things @ysljoon @livingformintyoongi @as-hs-blog @urmomluvsrose @yasmineixyjay @purpleheartsandarock1 @alextgef @coree730 @wobblewobble822 @coldcoffee2121 @zzoguri

okay fuck you tumblr for not making the tags work! rip, I don't get why it isn't tagging people *cries*

→ Author’s note(2): I know this was really, really short. I could probably have done a lot more, but I’m not really feeling it a lot in terms of writing. I was nice to revisit this couple though, and I hope this reassures everyone that they are fine and safe 🫶 Thank you for reading this story and series! I hope I improve my writing soon, but I might just take a break… I don’t know. I’m not in the best place, but writing helps me escape, but it’s also not the thing I wanna do when I feel like everything I write is crap? 🥲 Ahahaha.

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dean-winchester-is-a-warrior · 5 months

Text

The Dangers of Hope Epilogue

Series Summary: When Y/N shows up at Camp Chitaqua with her little girl in tow, her bloodshot eyes leave no doubt that she's infected. Or is she? Everything Dean has come to know for certain over the last five hellish years, is about to be challenged.

Pairings/Characters in the series: Endverse!Dean x Reader, Emma (OFC), Castiel, Sam Winchester, Lucifer, Michael, Zachariah, Risa, Johnston (OMC), Patrick (OMC), Theresa (OFC), other survivors and soldiers.

Series Explicit 18 +/Warnings: Show level violence, some gore, angst, smut, fluff all the usual for a series of mine. ❤️ Endverse!Dean (that's a warning for his anger and callousness as well as his extreme hotness. 😁) Each chapter will have their own specific warnings.

Chapter Warnings: None.

Word Count: 5,849

A/N: So, I've had this idea for quite a while. Basically since I watched The Last of Us. I loved Pedro in the role of Joel, but I kept thinking how incredible Jensen would have been. Which then made me think of how amazing he was as Endverse!Dean which then led me to this idea. Lol! I've stolen the premise of Ellie's storyline from TLOU, but made her a grown up, a reader insert, and a love interest for Dean.

If you've never seen TLOU, don't worry - you don't need to have seen it to understand this story. 😊

I've taken some liberties with the Endverse in my story, changed a few things from canon, but kept lots of things too.

I sincerely hope you enjoy the story. It will be ten chapters and I will do my very best to post one chapter every weekend. ❤️

A/N 2: So this is it, the epilogue, the end. I'm so sad to say goodbye to this series. I've really loved writing it, even if it kicked my ass a couple of times. I know I've said this already, but it definitely bears repeating - I'm so unbelievably grateful for the love and support you've all shown this series. Thanks so much - and I hope you enjoy this little peak into Dean and Y/N's lives a decade later. This ended up about twice as long as I'd planned. Lol! Enjoy! ❤️

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The dividers below were created by @saradika

Spring, 10 Years Later

The rumbling engine of the Impala was silenced as Dean pulled into the garage and parked Baby in her spot. The camp had eight cars now, so they'd had to expand the garage two summers before. The cars got shuffled around all the time, but Baby always kept her spot on the end. Everyone knew it was her spot.

The late afternoon sun shone in through the garage windows as Dean removed the keys from the ignition and pushed them back into his black, denim jacket pocket.

Sam was sitting beside him and shot him a questioning look when Dean didn't immediately jump out. “Dean?”

Dean nodded and then looked over at his little brother. “Do you think I did the right thing?”

Sam sighed. He'd already answered this question from his brother, in various forms, three or four times.

The Deerling Survivors Camp, a small camp located almost seventy miles away, had sent a message to Dean a week earlier, requesting a face-to-face meeting. Dean had asked Sam to come along and they'd stayed overnight at the fledgling camp. The pseudo-leader there, just a young kid who’d been thrust into the role, had asked them to let Deerling join Camp Chitaqua, and after seeing the shape of the camp, Dean had agreed on the spot.

Years earlier the four smaller camps surrounding Chitaqua had joined them, expanding the camp by miles and miles and raising the population by more than two hundred people. It had been a big decision, and Dean had consulted with the council for a couple days before agreeing to the expansion.

It was a very good decision in the end, since they now had enough land to plant six, four acre farm plots. They made sure to rotate crops, leaving one field fallow every season and using it for grazing pasture. But all that fertile land meant that the campers all had plenty of fresh vegetables. Their expanded size also allowed them to enlarge their barn, so they could now house and care for four cows and a bull, two horses, dozens of chickens, a rooster, two pigs, and eight sheep.

They'd bartered and traded with other camps for most of their animals or found them wandering around alone and unclaimed. But they bought their sheep from a farmer living in what used to be Iowa. A lot of farmers had started over there, scratching out a new life from the soil, now that the world had started turning once again.

Seven years ago they'd finally succeeded in producing a vaccine. It had taken a lot of hard work. For three years, every single person that worked on it did so with nothing more than a promise of a better tomorrow.

It had taken another two plus years to get the word and the vaccine out to people, but now most of the population was vaccinated. The vaccine had also been carried overseas. They couldn't be sure how things were going across the pond because communication was still very limited. But they'd heard rumors that it was going well.

Some infrastructure was up and running again; they had electricity in some places, and some cities had running water again. There were even some places that had phone lines connected - in and around the bigger cities where people were beginning to congregate.

Things seemed to be progressing quickly out west in the former California, where they'd reportedly started broadcasting some form of Television again. Not very many people had TVs anymore to watch, but it seemed comforting to people just to know something resembling their former lives was returning.

Not everything was perfect, of course. There was no centralized government, or structured, widespread laws. Most areas had variations of camps like Chitaqua with leaders in charge, or occasionally small, internally elected governments that ran the camp. Lawlessness still existed in a lot of places, but it was being beaten further back every day as groups banded together.

There were also still some areas that were uninhabitable because massive groups of Croats still roamed there. The researchers that had created the vaccine were working on a cure for those who’d already been infected, but thus far they’d proved unsuccessful. Croat attacks still happened sometimes, but the vaccine meant that people just had to deal with the bite itself, making sure it was healing properly - something that was becoming easier as medical stations were springing up in and around larger populations as well, as doctors went back to healing people as they’d been trained to do.

Chitaqua had a physician, Dr. Turner, who lived in the camp. The Medical Tent was no more and instead the doctor’s office and their cache of medical supplies were now housed in a big log structure that had been tiled inside to keep it as clean and sanitary as possible. Patrick was happy to be rid of guard duties these days, working alongside Dr. Turner to watch over the health and well-being of the campers.

There weren’t many tents left nowadays either. They had a bunch stored away in case the camp ended up with a big influx of new campers and temporary housing was needed. But most people lived in log cabins of varying sizes, dotted over the two and a half square miles of the camp. There were well over five hundred people in the camp now, since amalgamating the four other camps. They also had a reputation for being a prosperous, strong community, so people tended to migrate there as well - which continued to add to their numbers.

Now, after the meeting with the Deerling camp, they’d be adding another ninety-six people to their ranks, inflating their population to nearly seven hundred people. Dean was worried about the fact that he’d made the decision to absorb the smaller camp without consulting the council this time.

The council was a group made up of eight other people besides Dean. Sam and Y/N were on it, as well as Brandy, Risa, Dr. Turner, and three other campers who were there representing the hunters, the farmers and the builders.

Day-to day decisions were still handled by Dean, but he relied on the council for other bigger decisions - taking their thoughts, ideas and opinions into account before he ultimately made a decision. Agreeing to take in another flock of people and develop another thirty acres of land was definitely one of those big decisions he’d normally take to the council, which was why, Sam knew, Dean had been second guessing his unilateral decision to say yes to Deerling’s request.

Sam shook his head at his brother as he answered Dean’s worry again. “Dean, you acted out of generosity, the council will understand. I can vouch for the fact that those campers need a lot of help very quickly. Those kids were starving, you could see that.”

Dean nodded. “Yeah, I know, but I just brought the camp more strain on resources with no benefits.”

Sam shrugged. “Well, there’s the land.”

Dean scoffed. “Yeah, unfarmable land that’s separated from us by almost eighty miles. And Brisbane camp sits between us and Deerling, and they already think we’re trying to take them over. Joining with a group on the other side of them is gonna make them even more suspicious and possibly turn them unfriendly.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “I should have consulted the council.”

“Dean, there’s no way the council would have opted to just let a bunch of kids and sick people die. They’re definitely going to agree with your decision, and this way you’ve simply ensured that we can get food and medicine out to them by tomorrow instead of making them wait days for it. Trust me, you made the right decision.”

Dean grunted his response, still unsure.

Sam slapped the back of his hand against Dean’s shoulder. “Now, I’m gonna go talk with the Doc about getting supplies together and coming out there with me tomorrow. Will you talk with Brandy later about food?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah.” A smile finally lit his face. “And then I’m goin’ home.”

Sam smiled and opened his door to climb out of the Impala. “Good plan. Give Y/N and the kids a kiss for me.”

Dean climbed out too and slammed his door behind him. He called Sam back as his brother began to walk away.

“We should also figure out a time and day to have a sit down with the new leader from Brisbane, talk with her about our intentions regarding Deerling. She’s tough, but she seems more approachable and level-headed than their last leader. Maybe we can convince her we’re not looking to take anything over.”

Sam nodded. “That’s a good idea.”

Dean frowned. “What’s her name again?”

“Eileen Leahy.”

Dean noticed his brother’s cheeks turn pink and he immediately turned back into an annoying big brother, his grin wide.

“Right, right, you met with her alone last time. She’s cute, huh? Something we should know? Maybe you should invite her over to our place for dinner next week. We can have our little sit down conversation then. What do you think?”

Sam had already turned and started walking away. “You’re an idiot!” He called back over his shoulder. But Dean made a mental note to tell Y/N all about it later.

With Y/N firmly in mind he started out across the camp. Their cabin was situated on top of a low hill in the Southwest section of the camp, not all that far from where their old red tent used to sit.

They’d built their cabin when they came back to Chitaqua eight years ago after helping to set up the research facility. The vaccine was still a year away, but they’d done all they could do and they were ecstatic that after two years of traveling back and forth from camp, gathering doctors, researchers and searching for other psychic kids, (they’d only found two others) and after Y/N had given gallons of her blood to science, they could finally come home for good.

Not long after returning home, Y/N realized she was pregnant and Dean became obsessed with building them a beautiful home. It was around that time that the camps had all joined together and building homes for everyone became a priority of the camp.

The builders grew in numbers as they took on apprentices and taught them the trade so that more people in the camp could join in the work. It took almost four years of constant building, but eventually all five hundred plus campers had permanent homes.

Gotta pull the tents out for the Deerling folks, Dean thought as he walked, his mind immediately occupied with figuring out the logistics of where the new campers could stay, and how they could join in the life of the camp, once they were all healthy.

He stopped by Food Storage and spoke with Brandy as Sam had requested. And just as his brother had suspected, when he explained the situation, Brandy was one council member who was very glad he’d made the decision he had. He felt more sure now that the others would feel the same.

As Dean wound his way through camp he got stopped quite a few times, people wanting to talk with him about one concern or another. He generally pointed them in the direction of the person or group in the camp that could help them. But he also got stopped by friends wanting to say hi and talk for a moment or two.

He was happy to talk, but anxious to get home to Y/N.

He looked out towards the large school building where Y/N still taught every day. The new building had been built on the site where the main cabin had been burned down. It was even bigger than the old cabin, with six rooms for the seven teachers that worked there now.

Y/N was also the principal of the school for all intents and purposes; she and the other teachers taught over two hundred kids from ages five to sixteen. Theresa had finished school and immediately joined the staff as a teacher, working with Y/N every day and loving it. Brandy was so proud.

But Dean wasn’t surprised to see the building empty now, however; he knew it was a day off. He picked up his pace, weaving through the buildings that resided where the old tents had taken up space.

They’d greatly expanded the food storage, and had an entirely different rations system now that fresh vegetables, fruit, fish and game made up the vast majority of their diet. Brandy was still in charge and was constantly innovating to make things easier and to stretch their food as far as they could in order to feed everyone.

The former tent area also housed three large storage sheds, a small building that worked as an office/meeting space for whatever group needed to use it, and a small mill where they processed the wheat they grew - that process had included a steep learning curve, but they’d eventually made it work.

There was also a small, open area where a kind of market had popped up organically as the campers traded amongst themselves for things like homemade jewelry, homemade clothes, and other non-essentials.

He walked behind the buildings and began climbing the gently rising path that led to their cabin at the top of the hill. About halfway home he heard loud barking and looked up to see their seven year old Bernese-Husky cross, Clifford, bounding towards him, the way he usually did when any of the family came home.

“Hey, boy.” Dean said softly, scratching him behind the ears. “Miss me?”

Clifford barked happily in answer and ran ahead and then back to where Dean stood, obviously urging him on towards home. Dean laughed and sped up, chasing after the big dog who sometimes still acted like a puppy.

As the path through the trees ended, opening up into their wide front yard, Dean sighed deeply. “Home sweet home.” He murmured.

Even though he'd been away less than two days, he was still so happy to be home. He felt the peace that filled him up every time he stepped around the last bend in the path and caught sight of their home in the distance.

The way smoke curled lazily from the chimney and the scent of something delicious wafted through the half open Dutch door, never failed to make him ache to get his arms around his wife and bask in her light. Dean shook his head at his sentimental thoughts, but hurried his pace to get inside.

As he drew closer however, something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye and he turned his head to see his son walking East, coming out from behind the house. Dean figured he was heading over to his friend Freddie's, and he was about to continue on into the cabin, but then he noticed what his eight-year-old was holding in his hand.

“Gabriel Eric Winchester!”

Dean's voice bellowed out, freezing the young boy where he stood. Dean strode towards him, anger clear on his face. To the boy's credit, even when he turned and saw his father's anger, he still walked forward slowly, until he was standing directly in front of him.

The gun he held, however, was tucked just behind his back, as though he was hoping Dean hadn't noticed it.

Dean held his hand out. “Give that to me this second.”

Gabe's face fell and he brought the gun forward reluctantly, dropping it onto Dean's palm.

Dean immediately checked to make sure the small, .38 caliber, Smith and Wesson revolver was unloaded and when he saw it was, he held it in his fist, directly in front of Gabe's eyes.

“What the hell do you think you're doing with this?”

His son's eyes were wide and they got watery quickly.

He shrugged. “I was just gonna bring it to Freddie's. Josh said he could teach us to shoot.” He said, referring to his friend’s older brother. “Just cans on a fence.” He was quick to reassure Dean.

“And did you ask your mother if you could remove a gun from the weapons chest?” Dean asked, already well aware of the answer.

Gabe shook his head. “No.” He said quietly.

“How did you get it?” Dean asked brusquely.

Gabriel’s voice was still soft as he admitted what he’d done. “I grabbed it yesterday when mom took out a rifle to scare away some raccoons that were trying to get into the compost. Josh said he could teach us if we had guns. So when I saw it last night I just…” He trailed off as he looked up at Dean's face.

“So what you're telling me,” Dean said quietly, “is that while your mother's back was turned you STOLE a gun and planned to use it without asking either of us for permission.”

Gabe's tears spilled down his cheek at his father's disappointed tone and accurate words. He nodded and then sniffed.

“I'm sorry.” He said thickly.

Dean crouched down so he could look his son in the eye. “Gabe, a gun is not a toy. I thought you knew this. It's not something to mess around with or use on a whim. It is a weapon. It's incredibly dangerous. If you'd gone off and started shooting, even just at cans, you could have seriously hurt or killed yourself or your friends. Do you understand me?”

Gabe nodded but bit his lip. “But you carry a gun.” He said, pointing to the ever present gun strapped to Dean’s thigh. “And you started using guns when you were even younger than me. I heard you talking about it to mom before. And I…” He sniffled again. “I just wanted to be like you.”

Dean sighed and shook his head. “Oh, buddy, I want you to be so much more than me. Your mom and I, we've worked really hard to make things better for you guys, to make the world safer so that when you grow up, hopefully you won’t have to walk around with a gun strapped to you at all times. It’s my job to protect the people in this camp. That’s why I carry a gun, and why I sometimes carry a rifle. But that’s not your job. Your job is to just be a little boy.”

Dean saw Gabriel pout a bit about being called a little boy. He smiled gently and squeezed his son’s shoulders. “Trust me, buddy, you should enjoy being a kid, don’t try to grow up too quickly.”

Gabe nodded begrudgingly and Dean pulled his son in for a hug. After a moment, he pulled back from him and stood up straight again, before nodding towards the cabin. “Go to your room now until supper, and when you come out, you’ll owe your mother an apology for going behind her back. Also, nothing but school and home for a week, do you understand?”

Gabe looked like he wanted to argue, but thought better of it when Dean gave him a stern look. “Yes, sir.” He said in acceptance and turned to run into the cabin.

“Gabriel!” Dean called. When his son turned back, the tear tracks on his grubby cheeks still visible, Dean spoke quietly but with conviction. “I love you and that’s why I know you can do better.”

Gabe’s face lost some of its forlorn look and he gave Dean a slightly awkward smile, lightly banging his fist against the side of his leg. “Love you too, Dad.” He said quickly before bolting for the house.

Dean shook his head and slipped the gun into his inside jacket pocket. He’d have to have a few more conversations with his son about gun safety and responsibility, but he was confident he could drill the dangers into him.

He walked up the stairs to the front door, more than ready to see Y/N and his girls. When he walked inside, however, he could hear voices coming from behind the kitchen door, and they didn’t sound very happy.

He pushed open the swinging door and saw Y/N and Emma inside. Y/N’s face lit up. “Dean!” She said happily as she saw him and crossed to the door to pull him down for a kiss.

“Ew.” Emma said.

It was the standard reaction from all of their kids when they kissed in front of them. Emma had a hand over her eyes as Dean finished the kiss and looked over to where she stood by the sideboard that held all their plates, cups and glasses.

“You can look now, kiddo, we’re all finished.” Dean told her with a grin. “For the moment.”

Emma rolled her eyes and made Dean chuckle. Y/N frowned up at him. “Did I hear you yelling at Gabe?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah, gotta talk to you about that, but you guys sounded angry when I came in. Anything wrong?”

Y/N looked at Emma and shrugged. “I’ve been telling Emma that she needs to invite her new friend for dinner.”

Dean’s brow wrinkled as he looked at Emma. “You don’t want to bring your friend over for dinner?”

Emma looked at Y/N with frustration, clearly annoyed that she’d told Dean anything.

Dean tried again. “What’s going on kiddo, since when don’t you want us to meet your friends? Who is it, by the way? Didn’t realize any new kids had started at the school.”

Y/N shook her head. “Jeffrey’s not a new student, he’s just a new…friend.” She said meaningfully.

Dean caught on and his face immediately dissolved into a scowl. “Oh.” He said without enthusiasm, crossing his arms over his chest.

“See?” Emma barked out, pointing at Dean, but talking to Y/N. “I told you this is how he’d be!!”

“What?” Dean asked defensively. “What are you talking about?”

Emma folded her arms, her posture and scowl mirroring Dean’s. “You get like this every time I bring a boy home, even when he’s absolutely just a friend. You scare the shit out of them!”

“Emma!” Y/N said, reprimanding her for her language..

But Dean just scoffed. “I don’t know what you mean. How do I scare them?”

Emma glared at him. “You interrogate them, Daddy, you know you do.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Come on, if they’re too freaked out to answer a few simple questions then-”

“Simple questions?” Emma interrupted with a humorless laugh. “When I invited Timothy Sutherland over here you forced him to sit down and answer a thousand questions about his family, his background, where he grew up, what his plans were when we finished school. He ran out of here and never looked back.”

Dean threw his arms out. “Do you really wanna date a loser like that anyway? Who can’t even answer a couple questions?”

“Ugh!” Emma stomped her foot and stormed out the back door.

Silence reigned for a moment when Emma left before Y/N turned towards Dean, giving him a tilted smile. “So, welcome home!” She said in a would-be cheerful voice..

Dean sighed as he pulled her back into his arms and kissed the top of her head. They enjoyed the simple peace of each other’s embrace for a few minutes before Y/N spoke.

“What happened with Gabe?” She asked.

“He stole a gun and was gonna go shoot cans with Josh and Freddie Young.”

“What?” Y/N shouted, pulling back to look into Dean’s face.

He nodded. “Yeah, but don’t worry, I handled it. He’s in his room till supper and he’s grounded for a week. And I talked to him about how dangerous guns were. I have more conversations planned around the subject for the near future.”

Y/N shook her head before laying it back on Dean’s chest. “Good lord.”

After a couple minutes Y/N pulled away and poured them each a cup of coffee. They settled beside each other at the wooden table and instinctively linked fingers.

Dean took a sip of coffee and sighed. “I don’t really interrogate all her boyfriends, do I?”

Y/N pursed her lips. “Well, she’s never actually had a real boyfriend. And I don’t think that's because boys don’t want to date her. She’s smart and kind, beautiful and well-liked. So…” She shrugged. “It seems probable that the boys who like her are just too intimidated by her father - you know, the legend who fought monsters, Croats, angels, and WON - the soldier that leads the camp, wears a gun, and asks scary questions, all while donning a very good mean-face.”

Dean exhaled loudly, but before he could respond, their youngest child came bouncing into the room. She was just six years old, and looked so much like Emma at that age that it sometimes caught Dean off guard.

But she was definitely her own little bundle of energy. Having never known hunger or hardship, she was all bright smiles and busy excitement. It seemed as though she’d been born smiling and simply hadn't stopped. Very little bothered her, and she was absolutely spoiled by the entire family, including their found family members in the camp.

Everyone loved Hope.

“Daddy, you’re home!” Hope shouted as she jumped into his lap.

“Oof.” He grunted as she landed hard on some sensitive places. “Hey sweetheart!” He said, slightly out of breath.

“I missed you. Mommy said you might not come home until tomorrow, but I said that you would come home quick because you like to be home and you don’t like to stay away. Right?”

He nodded, trying to keep up with her racing words. “Yeah, baby, I love to be home.”

Before his sentence was ended Hope was on to her next thought. “I saw Emmie running out the back door and I tried to talk to her, but she looked mad. She was sitting on the tree swing in the back and I wanted a turn, so I told her to push me, but she just helped me on the swing and then she left to walk through the front yard and leave. And when I tried to follow her, she told me not to leave the yard and to go inside and see you cause you were back. So, I did.” She paused for breath before asking, “Why was Emmie mad?”

Y/N answered. “It’s nothing sweet pea. Why don’t you help me make supper? You can shuck the corn.”

Hope clapped her hands. “Yes, I want to pull all the strings off.”

Y/N held her daughter’s hand as she hopped off of Dean’s lap, and then leaned forward to kiss Dean slowly.

“Ew.” Hope said, shielding her eyes as her sister had.

Y/N smiled against Dean’s lips and whispered to him. “Go talk to your daughter.”

Dean nodded and stood up, bending to kiss Hope’s shiny chestnut curls on the crown of her head. “Hey, promise me something short one.” He said, continuing when she looked up at him. “Promise you’ll take a really long time to grow up, okay?”

She smiled at him, cheeks round and rosy. “Okay, daddy.”

He winked at Y/N who smiled indulgently. “She promises.”

***

Dean instinctively knew where he’d find his oldest child. She coped with stress and frustration the same way he did, the way he’d taught her to.

He walked through the door of the garage and sure enough, there was Emma, wearing old, blue coveralls that were too big for her, and bent over the hood of the little Chevy hatchback that sat next to the Impala. He knew she heard him come in, but she didn’t say anything, just kept working.

Dean hopped up on Baby’s hood and waited for her to be ready to talk. Eventually, she caved and looked over at him, her face slightly shuttered and a little hard to read. “Hi.” She said simply.

He smiled at her. “Hey kiddo.” He nodded at the open hood she was under. “How are things looking? Still need a new oil pan?”

Emma shook her head. “No, I replaced that last week. Risa found me one in the back of the storage shed.”

“Good.” Dean said. They were both quiet as Emma leaned back in and continued working.

After a moment she cleared her throat. “Looks like I’m gonna need new brake pads though. Think we could go to Lowry’s and see what he’s got.” She asked, referring to a guy in Brisbane who collected car parts and often traded with them.

“Sure. I’ll be busy for the next day or so. But we can go after that. One day after school?” He asked.

Emma nodded and stood up, wiping her hands on the rag she had stuffed in her pocket. She was quiet as she slammed the hood closed and then stepped out of the coveralls and hung them up on the hook beside the door.

She wandered over to Baby and hoisted herself up beside Dean on the hood. After a moment she leaned her head onto his shoulder. “I’m sorry I yelled at you, Dad. I’m glad you’re home.”

Dean lifted his arm so she could snuggle closer, and then wrapped it tightly around her shoulders, squeezing her into his side.

“No, you don’t have to apologize, baby. Apparently I’ve been unconsciously scaring away the tons of boys who would otherwise be beating down our door. Though, if I’m being completely truthful, it probably wasn’t entirely unconscious. Cause I just know not a one of them is gonna be good enough for you.”

Emma chuckled. “I don’t think it’s tons of boys, Daddy. And I’m not interested in a bunch of boys. I’m interested in Jeffery. And I really do want you to meet him. I think if you give him a chance you’d like him. He’s really sweet and funny and just…” She sighed. “I just like him.”

Dean squeezed her again and felt his chest constrict with love and bittersweet memories, remembering how she used to crawl into his lap and let him read her to sleep. Those days were long gone, but she was still that little girl to him and she probably always would be. But he knew she was growing up and he needed to loosen his grip, at least a little.

So he sighed now and nodded. “Okay, kiddo. If you like him, I’m sure I’ll like him too. So, invite him over for dinner one evening and I swear to keep my questions to a minimum and be perfectly cordial.”

Emma laughed. “I don’t know if cordial is ever a word I’d use to describe you, Dad. Let’s just try to leave out the death stares.”

***

That evening after dinner, it was Gabe and Hope’s turn to do dishes. Gabriel washed and Hope dried with some assistance from Dean. As they were finishing up, Keisha and Julianne showed up on their doorstep asking if Emma was free to go for a walk around camp.

Y/N nodded when Emma looked to her for permission. “That’s fine. Be home before dark. Oh, here.” She said to the twins, grabbing a bag and passing it to them. “Take these home to your mom, it's the dress patterns she loaned me.”

Keisha went to take it, but Y/N pulled it back. “On second thought, nevermind. I’ll bring it to her tomorrow afternoon. Gives me a reason to visit and gossip.”

The girls all laughed and then waved as they headed out the door. Dean had to smile as they walked away, their high pitched voices and giggles floating back to them on a breeze. Some things hadn’t changed and he was grateful.

Gabe went to his room to read, since he was housebound for the next while. Hope played with some well loved and worn out dolls for a little bit before they took her to her room and put her to bed. They tucked Gabe in not long after, and then took their coffee cups out onto their little front porch and sat in one of the big Adirondack chairs that Dean and Sam had built three years ago.

Y/N settled happily into Dean’s lap, her hands cupped around her warm mug. The late spring air was soft and warm, and the sounds of the camp drifted up the hill towards them. They listened contentedly for a little while as Clifford came out of the house and flopped down on Dean’s feet.

They talked about the kids and they talked about the Deerling camp; they talked about Sam, and Y/N admonished Dean for teasing him about Eileen.

“Be nice.” She scolded. “I hope he will bring her to dinner. If he likes her, I mean.”

They talked about anything and everything, and as the sun began to set, Emma came up the path and smiled as she saw her parents cuddled together in one chair. As much as she rolled her eyes and hid her face when they started getting kissy, she loved how much they loved each other. And she knew she’d never settle for anything less than what they had together.

She told them goodnight and went inside, Clifford rising slowly to follow her and sleep at the end of her bed as he did every night.

Soon the fireflies were buzzing loudly and the camp was getting quiet, so Dean stood up with Y/N still in his arms, leaving their coffee cups to sit on the porch until morning. She laughed as her husband carried her effortlessly into their bedroom.

He set her on her feet and locked the door before he buried his hands in her hair and pulled her to him, crushing her lips beneath his own. Y/N moaned softly and immediately pulled off his flannel shirt and yanked his t-shirt over his head so she could spread her hands across the wide expanse of his still beautifully muscled torso.

“God I missed you.” She breathed, even though it had only been one night. “I hate when you go away.”

He smiled against her skin as he stripped her down to her bra and panties. “Missed you too, sweetheart. Promise not to go anywhere ever again.”

Y/N laughed at his impossible promise as he lifted her so she could wrap her legs around his waist. He continued kissing her as he crossed the room and lowered her to the bed. She wouldn’t let go of him and pulled him down on top of her.

Dean chuckled at her hold on him and then mouthed his way down her body, licking and nipping at her skin. Ten years later she still had the ability to make him instantly hard and aching for her.

They spent most of the night making up for the one they’d been apart. In the darkest part of the night they found light and life in each other’s arms and fell asleep knowing tomorrow would dawn bright and busy - filled with responsibilities, joy, love and most of all…

…hope.

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters: @lyarr24 @lacilou @deans-spinster-witch @globetrotter28 @suckitands33 @alwaystiredandconfused @evznackles @jackles010378 @impala67rollingthroughtown @krazykelly @candy-coated-misery0731 @envyaurora95 @spnwoman @deans-baby-momma

Dean Fics Only: @roonthelittlespoon920 @slamminmine @zepskies @safiyas-world

Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom: @kazsrm67 @slut-for-evans-stan @sexyvixen7 @nancymcl @hobby27 @waywardcheshire

Everything Incl. Fan Edits: @k-slla @leigh70 @eevvvaa @kickingitwithkirk @foxyjwls007 @notinthislife50 @roseblue373 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @avanatural @mrsjenniferwinchester @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @deangirl96

#endverse!dean #endverse!dean x reader #dean x reader #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester smut #endverse!dean fan fic series #endverse

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galaxostars · 3 months

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Transfest celebration

Hi everyone ! Pride month may be over but Transfest is still very much on going and so many beautiful fics/art keep coming out every day, so feel free to check them out and give them some much deserved love <3

I will be reblogging this post every time a new work comes out so stay tuned for that + the authors' reveal next week!

The Magic of You : 13.9k, E, Petunia/Severus, James/Lily, Eileen/Tobias

One cigarette can change everything. Or when two people realise they are far more alike than they are different.

can i tell you something? : 2.7k, G, Regulus/Remus

Regulus needs to tell Remus something.

What Are Friends For? : 2k, M, Draco/Harry, Hermione/Ron

Draco offers to help Harry out with a certain problem he’s having, courtesy of starting T.

Sun's out, Guns out : art, T, Charlie Weasley

Charlie Weasley has much to be proud about. All his scars are fucking cool, the dragon claws, the eyebrow slit, the stretch marks on his hips, and ... oh yeah : his top surgery scars ! Charlie Weasley is a hot transmasc dude, what do you want more from me i'm thirsting

Full Indulgence : 14.7k, E, Fleur/Nymphadora, Nymphadora/Bill, Fleur/Nymphadora/Bill

Tonks and Bill used to fuck. Bill met Fleur, and friends-with-benefits became friends again. Now, Bill’s engaged to Fleur. Tonks thinks Fleur is hot. Really hot. Tonks cannot stop thinking about her. Bill finds out. Bill has a solution. Tonks is caught in the middle, in the best way possible.

brother, I've returned : 2.7k, G, Regulus & Sirius

Sirius and Regulus reunite after their parents' deaths. written for the HP TransFest, prompt #82: Brother, Madds Buckley or FTM Sirius left home many years ago. After his parents death he must return for the reading of the will and face the brother he left behind

I don't wanna be anything other than me : 4.3k, T, Sirius/Remus

Remus has been thinking about confiding in the boys that he is trans and a werewolf, because he is tired of hiding who he is. Lily is his best friend, but living in the girl's dormitory is taking it's toll. A story of friendship, opening up to others, and accceptance. Prompt 33: Remus ftm taking to McGonagall and the boys about switching dorms

your friends are a fate that befell me : 12.8k, E, Regulus/Sirius, Regulus/James

Self prompted : Established Sirius/Regulus, Sirius wants Regulus to make James feel better after his breakup

Fawning Over You by toxik_angel - a Podfic podfic length 4.5-5 hours, E, Draco/Harry

Harry's not sure which would be worse: Ron and Hermione finding out he buys Draco Malfoy's premium pornography and an extra gift off his wishlist every week, or Draco Malfoy finding out Harry has a horrible, distracting, embarrassing crush on him. Alt title: Whore-ton Hears a Harry.

force our smiles, baby, half dead (from comparing myself to everyone else around me) : 3.8k, M, Remus/James

Five times James was asked how he was feeling + one time Remus was asked the same.

The bleedin' hearts, the arts and that other stuff : 55.9k, E, Remus/James, Dorcas/Lily, Regulus/Sirius, Barty/Pandora/Evan

Sometimes "coming out" means going stealth with your hookup. Sometimes "going stealth" means that your hookup gets the wrong idea that you (a book-loving pacifist who writes self-proclaimed sad boi music in your spare time) are a repeat offender in the back alley knife fight department. Oops? It's all fun and games in love and war for Remus and James until somebody gets hurt. This is a FINISHED FIC With an eleventh chapter - epilogue coming post-creator reveals <33

Between These Walls : 40k, E, Harry/Severus, Luna/Rolf Scamander

Casting an eye to his former student, Severus saw Potter’s head loll onto the thin pillow. The young man faced the ceiling, expression inert and dull. Why was he in a hospital bed next to Potter three years after the war? In which Harry quits the Auror force to recover from a bout of depression, Severus starts an owl-order business from his country house, and they both learn what it means to be in a relationship for the first time.

Wine Drunk : 2.8k, T, Sirius/Remus

Prompt: Sirius is falling in love with new member of order (remus homeschooled) and notices several things and tries to put together pieces

It's not over yet : 6.9k, T, Lily & Severus, Poppy & Severus

Taking self-made potions and performing a ritual at Ostara in his fourth year - Severus Snape had thought of many aspects while planning his transition. Was there something he purposefully ignored until the last second? Certainly. Severus struggles to navigate both his parents' reaction and the reality he has to face: people will ask questions regarding his new form. Severus is sure he is no "young woman" but rather a lad, yet telling other people is intimidating. At least he got his friends and a surprise ally.

moving into me : 5.2k, T, Hermione/Ron

Veronica "Ronny" Weasley always knew something was "off" but Ronny didn't understand what it was until the Yule Ball shenanigans during fourth year. Submitted for 2024 Trans Fest Prompt 6: "Trans male Ron who doesn’t realize/come out until a few years into Hogwarts."

Make sure to leave some kudos and comments to the authors 🏳️‍⚧️🫶🏻

#ao3 #fic rec #ao3 writer #transfest #trans fiction #transgender #trans artwork #trans pride #harry potter fic rec #trans character #ao3 link #fanfiction

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clare-with-no-i · 2 months

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theogony part 1 behind the scenes

**SPOILERS ahead for theogony and mild spoilers for Outlander!**

this is just going to be a long infodump of all of the things I pondered while writing theog (specifically part 1, part 2 will come later) but never talked about! I'll try to go chapter by chapter, and maybe I'll end up adding more later on, but for now I just think it'd be fun to chitchat and reminisce on some of my favorite tidbits. this story is really my baby idk :")

Prologue - Alalá

one thing that I wanted to establish in the prologue, other than the obvious James-Sirius dynamic, is the presence of otherworldly or spiritual premonitions in this universe. it was always important to me that the first person who actually made any sort of prophetic declaration was James.

so much of the story relies on Lily's status as an oracle, but this little tidbit here helped build the world for me so much; we can't be sure if James's various dreams and premonitions are wishful thinking, or really the Gods speaking to him, or something else entirely. of course, this story deals with time travel, so there's an inherent supernatural element. but Lily and James's conflicting – and sometimes competing – conceptions of God felt like such a necessary tension for me to explore. it was such an incredible shorthand for the tension between modern and ancient sensibilities. and we never get a definitive answer to those looming questions, which I knew I wanted to do from the outset. did the Gods bring Lily back to the past? did James? did she do it herself? does God/the Gods even exist?

also: there are probably moments where I failed to do this, but I tried to capitalize Gods in all of the James chapters but not in Lily's, unless she was referring to the Abrahamic Capital G God. that is, until the last chapter, which I'll elaborate upon later :)

also: i wrote the prologue first, then the epilogue, and then i posted the prologue pretty immediately after. I had the entire story roughly outlined but I absolutely jumped the gun when it came to posting the prologue LMAO I didn't even really announce the story, I just joked about writing it and then posted the prologue, which you can see from the beginning note. i remember Suze was about to go to sleep and she started messaging me like wtf Clare what do you MEAN?

and the rest was history (pun completely intended)!

Chapter One: Ouroboros

the narrative brushes past the other statues in this section pretty quickly, but I always imagined that the first bust is Philoctetes, James's father. I think the consensus on this one tends to oscillate between Philoctetes and Aristides, which is another great interpretation.

The reason I wrote it this way and imagined it to be Philoctetes is because I thought it would have been nice to let Lily 'meet' James's father (in a sense), even before she 'meets' him. when I read this chapter back after I first finished the story, I had a very soft moment where I close-read my own fic (lol) and thought that maybe it was Philoctetes who sent Lily back to the past. maybe he sensed something about her and knew she'd be right for James and for antiquity.

sooo many people forgot about this! which i was hoping for!!!!! I was hoping everyone would forget about James's statue holding something until the Big Reveal. fun fact is I wrote the reveal right after this. I liked the idea that, no, he was never going to actually be holding anything. he'd be reaching for Lily. the choice to accept his hand was always going to be hers.

a fun fact about this chapter is that I had to pull from a bit more Outlander lore than I originally thought. and no I don't mean the 'Jesus H Roosevelt Christ' part lol. It was always hilarious to me how Outlander set up Claire to be the objectively perfect person to go back in time. she was a combat nurse who happened to develop an interest in medicinal botany and Scottish-English history. she also happened to spend her formative years with her adventurous archaeologist uncle after her only living relatives died. like girl. lol.

so I had to really toss up which traits I thought it would be appropriate for Lily to have as she traveled back in time. the biggest one, obviously, is her field of study, which was necessary given the language barrier and the completely foreign nature of social norms in Classical Athens. I toyed around with the idea of making her mum a nurse so as to give her some base medical knowledge, but that felt a) unnecessary given the circumstances of the story, and b) far-fetched that she would have gleaned enough transferable skills to apply in 479 BCE.

it was also fun to give her more reason to go back to the future; she has a sister who, while they aren't in contact, is a significant emotional attachment; she has academic goals; she has a best friend (however toxic we know him to be). it added a layer of conflict that I enjoyed playing up, even if I definitely could have explored her modern life more fully.

Chapter Two: Kinesis

soooo much exposition and worldbuilding in this chapter. oml. it was so much fun to play around with the reasons why James would be in Tatoi in the first place; I can't remember quite how I landed on the Persian auxiliary soldier thing, it might have been from my initial (admittedly extensive) research on the months leading up to Plataea; it may have just been the fact that I KID YOU NOT this story used to take up all of my fucking brainspace. I couldn't stop thinking about it. I'd be doing work for my research fellowship and just daydream about theogony. the initial idea came to me AS A JOKE!!!!! when i was idly pondering before going to sleep (as one does), and then it just wouldn't leave me alone. i kept imagining what it might look like. I thought about how the time travel might work. I thought about James's Greek equivalent. I ranted to my sister and her dog (he did not care) about what the statue might look like and mean (sorry bestie love u).

one narrative decision that has given me a bit of strife was the Dimitrios-James name change. I've had a number of people ask me if I'd ever try to pubilsh theog – and this is one of the (many) reasons why that would be pretty categorically impossible. using James's English name in his internal narration, instead of the name I give him as a Greek man, is something that only translates to fic. it makes pretty much no sense at all if you consider these original characters lol.

honestly putting the word 'practicum' in here caused me SO much pain. in James's chapters I tried really hard to use words which had Greek roots and not Latin roots, even if they're in modern English today. in most of his chapters, I'd try and find synonyms for big/complex words so I could use ones that came from Greek. it just helped me stick to his narrative voice a bit more.

I forgot how much STUFF went on in this chapter. oh my god SO much happens?? we get the lack of the Parthenon as the time marker (felt very clever doing that), Lily processing the fact that she's time traveled (lazy writing on my part to not have this happen in a Lily POV chapter but I'll take that on the chin), the Plataea reveal. OML. tired just thinking about it. lily sweetie i am so sorry

guys, the amount of time I spent wondering if I should Greek-ify Sirius's name is insane. For so long I thought about making him Seirios, which is the original Greek version of Sirius. But I felt like I had already messed with their names too much, and so I left it. but honestly I'm still torn. looking back, maybe it would have been the right move to make him Seirios and have Lily give him the name Sirius, but I guess we'll never know!

one of my favorite Sirius moments, and something that, essentially, sets up the rest of the story. but I wanted there to be a little ambiguity throughout the story about how much of this Sirius actually believes.

we know that James has just confessed to Sirius and Pétros that he was hoping they'd desert the Athenian army. we know that he thinks he's going to die, and he's adopted this sort of fatalist view of his future. and then here you have Sirius, who could never abide such a thing, pretty much leaning into the idea that Lily can tell the future – which would allow him to challenge James's prediction. I always wanted to leave it up to interpretation, and I know it comes up in later chapters (at the komos especially), Sirius's skepticism about Lily's origins. but it's such a fun question to ask: does he really believe that she's the Oracle that James prayed for, or does he just need that to be true so he can try and influence the future himself?

Chapter Three: Peribolos

omg. lol. the chapter three opening academic argument scene. this is a favorite of mine, and something I had so much fun writing. it's actually based on an argument/"spirited discussion" I had with my dad a few years ago about moral absolutism versus moral relativism which forced me to interrogate and expand my knowledge on the subject. I thought it was such a fun way to get into Lily's politics and her character without doing crazy exposition in the ancient world.

it also touches upon one of the touchstone themes of the story: that to study something is, in a way, to detach yourself from it. academia is routintely completely disconnected from its subject matter, and it creates this weird disdain for lived experience versus book knowledge. Lily has spent upwards of ten years studying (in some capacity) the ancient world, but she is so utterly out of her depth when she experiences it herself. as such, she espouses these very revolutionary politics when examining historical conflicts, but she has a blindness to what the real-world realities may have been for the people living in those conditions at the time.

alsooooo, The Return of Martin Guerre is one of my favorite books I read in college, and the easter egg here is that it's about a person of dubious origin entering a community and the politics of how the community might accept or reject them. ha ha!

^^based on something I said in an argument with a Poli Sci major in college and I have to say one of my better moments. was an absolute haymaker. this was very 'author gives main character a zinger' of me and I will not be ashamed of it

this! ladies and gentlemen! this was basically a declaration of love!!!! to be loved is to be remembered!!!

in a very romantic way, the study of history can be such an act of love to those who lived before us. i just adore the idea that, even before Lily developed real romantic feelings for James, she had this itching sort of feeling; AKA, when someone has made such an impression on you, and you know (or in her case, you think) that you'll be leaving them at some point, and you just want to be interesting enough, be impressive enough, that they remember you, that they think of you randomly as time goes on. that is such a giddy hallmark feeling of having a crush, in my book. I liken it to making eye contact with someone or having a brief conversation on a night out, maybe at 3am on your way back from a bar when things are sleepy and dizzy, and you just have this sense that you're being seen in that moment as anyone you want to be. i love this moment so much I feel like I could give it its own meta LMAO

Chapter Four: Hamartia

this chapter really put the pedal to to the metal lol. at the time of writing the story, I generally didn't (and still don't) love fake dating that much as a trope; I don't typically love plotlines predicated on (even harmless) deceptions, it's just a sensitivity of mine that I don't expect anyone to relate to or share. but when I was considering how to structure theog, it just made so much sense for James and Lily's arcs to have them get 'married.' there was no way that Lily was going to be able to navigate Classical Athens as an unsupervised woman alone, and even with the Oracle title offering her some protection, there was nothing really tying her to James. much like Outlander, it really did feel like the last possible resort, which softened me to the idea of using the trope.

fun fact, i got a snarky comment a few months ago complaining that i was trying to pass the story off as historically accurate (lol to the fifteen disclaimers I embedded throughout which addressed that) and one thing they took issue with was that lily wouldn't have been able to own property and the only thing that would have kept her from being a slave would have been marriage.

which! yknow! none of which contradict the story! but anyway I digress.

I was initially nervous about how early on the fake marriage happens; we don't really know the characters that well yet, we're not sure who James is as a potential partner to Lily, or how Lily's feelings for him are starting to bump up against her very rightful and justified desire to get the hell out of dodge. but – we only really see James in canon as a husband and as the father to the main character, so it felt pretty true to the source material to throw him into being a husband pretty early.

I loved writing this scene with Aristides. I've always been partial to his appearances throughout the story, and this one is just so special to me. I think of him as a driving force in humanizing the ancient world in theog, sometimes even more so than the main cast of characters. to elaborate a bit on that: with the Marauders and Lily and the other transplanted HP characters, I think there's this inherent sense that they are already fleshed out people (to some degree) even before they hit the page of the story, because they appear in canon and across Marauder fic verses. no matter how much I make James into Dimitrios and Peter into Pétros and Fleamont into Philoctetes, people know them and love them outside of theogony verse. but not Aristides. he doesn't have a one-to-one HP character. there is some version of him that really existed in 479 BCE (my complex and largely negative feelings on RPF are setting off alarms at this but we proceed) and that's it.

it would have been easy to just give him this very gruff and surly character, to make him a military general who didn't care about anything other than the war. I think that's how we conceptualize historical people sometimes, often without meaning to. but he was a person, and he had likes and dislikes, he probably had a family and maybe he'd fallen in love, and it was such an honor to give him such dimension. not to say that I'm putting that personality upon the actual historical person; but just to really take my time with a character outside of the Marauder canon. in this scene he has this human moment where he reminds James that, yes, love is a worthy pursuit, even to those in positions of incredible power. even when the discussion isn't about romantic love but about James's love for his closest friends. it's this permission that James didn't even know he was seeking but ultimately that changes the course of his and Lily's lives. Aristides is who James might become, in many ways. in the actual Plataea chapter this becomes more and more prevalent. (more on this later!)

overall, I am forever hoping that people come out of reading this story with an appreciation for the humanity of those that came before us. I did a poor job with other characters in this story, and I own that, but I'm proud of how I wrote Aristides.

oh my godddddd I fucking love this part. i am so fucking proud of it. LMAO. achieving wordplay in an ancient language that i have never studied should be on my fucking CV I swear. like this was just perfect I'm sorry I am BUZZING that I pulled this off.

also, a cute way to introduce a phrase to the narrative which will become very important: se filo!

I remember that I wrote this passage, which many people commented on and which I loved writing, in a coffee shop on a sunny day when my cousin was visiting me to introduce me to his girlfriend. there wasn't any wifi in the coffee shop so I was blessedly devoid of distractions and could only focus on the doc, and i was LOCKED IN let me tell you.

when my cousin and his girlfriend arrived I told them I was sending an important email and edited the last sentence of that paragraph about four different times while they sat in silence and waited for me to finish LMAOOO

Chapter Five: Ascesis

a profoundly insane moment in my personal history was reading excerpts from Eudemian Ethics, Nichomachean Ethics, and Memorabilia just to passively mention them in a flashback in a fic. relied heavily on Foucault for this, I will be so honest. why did i do that tho. like girl take a breath...

but in all seriousness this was just a joy to write. i miss being a history student and having these discussions – law school is great, but history classes will forever hold my heart ngl! also, this passage is in some ways an homage to my grandfather, who is one of my favorite people ever. he taught himself Classical Greek and Latin when he was in his 20s, before he went to medical school (and get his pilot's license for fun, he's seriously the most interesting guy alive). he gifted me his leatherbound Great Books printings of Aristotle's works and of the Iliad and the Odyssey shortly after I started theogony, and I cherish them so much. he spurred my interest in ancient greece when i was young. so this is for him :)

one of the hardest things for me to articulate (and maybe something I could have done better) was the war and the balance between James's inherent goodness and his growing feelings for Lily. i wanted her to have plausible reason to think that he doesn't at all feel romantically towards her, even as she's growing to admire him more and more. I hoped, as I wrote the story, that these little interactions where the reader clues into his feelings (this protective 'peninsula' moment being one of them) still walked that line. as in, i wanted lily to reasonably believe that he's just that good of a guy that he would take issue with anyone being taken advantage of, not just her. she's so destabilized in this moment as well, I think that worked to my advantage. or I hoped it did LOL.

from what I remember of writing this chapter, it just came really quickly and naturally. much more than the later ones. this early period of writing was just an outpouring of the ABSOLUTE BRAINROT I was going through after conjuring up the idea for the story. it just flew. the ending scene where they have their little almost-moment was probably about an hour's worth of writing. it's like I couldn't type fast enough to keep up with my thoughts. not sure i've experienced that since!

also, the now, here, alive line reappears in the last chapter, which is one of my favorite callbacks:

:) :) :)

Chapter Six: Kleos

one thing I used to worry about CONSTANTLY is that I was losing the classic (and necessary!) Marauder goofiness to the more somber setting. so it was a jaunt and a boon to write scenes like the opening one here, where it honestly could be copy-pasted into the Gryffindor Common Room and it'd look a lot like my canon stories.

he's just a dude being hungover and embarrassed about the previous night with his bros!

the first time we get a hint of Pétros disappearing to dubious locations!

this chapter was one of the most research-heavy. it was a new setting, filled with new characters, and predicated entirely upon planning the Greek front at Plataea. so if I couldn't nail that down (at least to some degree), I was going to have trouble. of course I took liberties, but I spent a lot longer combing through sources for this chapter than some other ones, I'll tell you that for free. it took ages to find any treatises on ancient athenian sword combat, sigh.

yeah I mean i remember thinking that the subtitle for this chapter could have been 'I am going to create an environment that is so toxically masculine' because that's pretty much the whole vibe. James is not immune to that, either, and that was intentional. he feeds off of the violence and the anger of the men surrounding him, and he exhibits some behaviors in this chapter (rushing off to kill Anaxagoras after he grabs Lily's arm, for instance) which are not ideal! but I do think that there's meaningful conversation to be had about Lily's cultural assimilation into an ancient, misogynistic society, and how there was absolutely no way I was going to get out of this story without giving James some sort of period-typical attitude. now again, I took the liberties I deem necessary, because I have no desire to make my main romantic lead into an asshole. that's not my James Potter. not that that's news [gets taken out by a sniper]

i got CLOWNEDDD for referring to this dude as Dion son of Dion but idk what to tell you!! that's how the old documents referred to him!!! i didn't make that shit up I swear to god!!!!

also - that's the actual text of the Oath of Plataea, except (as Lily points out) it should read Athena Areia. is it likey that she'd remember this off the dome? no. is it possible that she just recognized the missing descriptor from context clues? yes. did i care enough to explain this either way? no, no i did not.

the Big Ticket Item of this chapter, though, is the oh.

and it wasn't just an oh, it was an oh followed by this innocuous conclusion that isn't even about Lily. i made myself laugh so hard with that. he's just like 'oh god my friend is going to wave this over my head FOREVER' and you know what? he's right!

as for the previous paragraph in that passage, I pulled a bit of a bait and switch, but not as badly as you might think! it was a risk to even bring up the idea that James could leave Athens, because I know it spurred some people into thinking that he'd go to the future with Lily (sorry babies that was not on the table). but what I intended for this passage (however successful it may or may not have been) was to just…allow him a moment of real, visceral empathy for the sensation of displacement that Lily's experiencing, and as well, introduce the idea that he might leave the life he's cultivated in Athens. his entire upbringing has been himself, the consummate Athenian man, surrounding himself with people from outside of Athens and drawing from their experiences, but never venturing outside of his little realm. in so many ways, the story questions what Lily's relationship with 'home' is (especially later on), but it always felt necessary to me to reckon with how 'home' may change for James as well.

finally:

yeah honestly i just remember the exact moment i thought of this passage. i had been reading the secret history (shoutout Donna Tartt i idolize and fear you) and i was lying down in my local park in the summer. I just thought about the Greek myths I knew, and the kind of cosmic horror that it is to really admit you're falling in love with someone, that they have this power over you that you didn't anticipate. and that closing line of the scene really struck me out of nowhere – I wrote it down in my notebook and just stared at it for a good few minutes. it's still one of my favs of the story :)

ok! if you made it this far, you are just amazing. this has to be a few thousand words at least. TYSM!!!!

see you all later for the part 2 BTS ❤️

#honestly if this gets 0 notes i don't even mind #this is purely for my audience of one (myself) LMAO #theogony #clare talks writing #THIS IS SO FUCKING LONG HOLY GOD

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austinshotbutlers · 2 years

Text

The Wedding Date - Part Five

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner × Fem!BAU!Reader

Summary: Your sister's wedding is approaching fast and the thought of showing your boyfriend off to you family and your ex-boyfriend seems like a very appealing idea. The only problem is... you don't have a boyfriend. Luckily your stony faced, serious, sexy boss has agreed to be your fake boyfriend for the weekend. What could possibly go wrong?

Word count: 4.3K

TW: Mentions of cheating, swear words, mentions of sex.

A/N: I’M BACK BABIES!!!! Thank you so much for waiting and being patient with me🫶🏻 So… here is party five. I’m planning on there being six parts, once part six is posted I’m going to make another social media edit to accompany the fic. Also considering writing a prologue/prequel and an epilogue… would you guys like that??

“Today is the day.” You sighed into Aaron’s chest as you nuzzled closer into his warm embrace. It was early and you could already hear the chaos of the day echoing up the stairs to you room. The shrill voices of your mom and Sarah sent shivers through your body as memories of last night’s drama glazed through your head. Aaron wrapped his arms tighter around you and rubbed light, comforting circles on your arm with his thumb.

“We get through today and then we fly home tomorrow night.” Aaron murmured against the top of your head.

“Am I crazy if I say I’ve actually missed the BAU?” You asked and Aaron laughed lightly.

Suddenly, a loud knock echoed from your bedroom door, closely followed by your mom’s voice.

“I hope you two are up and getting ready. There’s breakfast set up in the kitchen!” She called cheerily followed by the sound of her feet descending down the stairs.

“I’ll get in the shower quickly and then should we go downstairs for breakfast?” Aaron suggested.

“Sounds like a plan.” You smiled and tilted your head up so you could place a light peck on his jaw. Aaron smiled and swiftly climbed out of bed, leaning down to place a kiss on your lips before making his way to the bathroom.

You got out of bed yourself and pulled on one of Aaron’s jumpers before the buzz of your phone caught your attention. You quickly picked it up and glanced at the screen. 3 missed calls and 8 texts from Emily. How on earth did you miss them? As soon as you heard the running water coming from Aaron’s shower, you immediately called her. She answered almost instantly.

“Hello?” You said.

“Oh my god! Where have you been? It’s been 2 days and I’ve heard nothing from you!” Emily shouted exasperatedly down the phone.

“I know! I’m so sorry! The last few days have been… a lot to say the least.” You replied.

“What’s been going on? Have you and Hotch been having insane, crazy-hot, lust-filled sex for two days straight? Is that why you haven’t been replying to my texts or answering my calls?” Emily asked.

“Emily!” You hissed.

“That wasn’t a no… oh my god you slept together!” She exclaimed matter-of-factly. “Was it good? Wait, I don’t know if I want to know that… oh what the hell, what was it like?” The questions came flooding out of her life a waterfall.

“Ok! We had sex but that’s all I’m telling you!” You replied frustratedly.

“I knew it! I knew you two would do it! Please just describe it in three words.” Emily pleaded down the phone.

“Fine! Best. Sex. Ever.” You said and Emily squealed excitedly in response.

“So are you and Hotch officially a couple now or?…” Emily asked and it caused you to stop and think. With the trip coming to an end, were you two now a couple? Both of you had declared your love for one another so surely that counted as some sort of idea where your relationship status sat?

“We haven’t put any labels on it yet but we have been very open with our feelings.” You explained.

“Well, tell Hotch that if he doesn’t make it official with you by the time you’re back in DC, I’ll be having words with him.” She said. “I’m putting money on the two of you being married by next year.”

“Oh my god Emily!” You laughed. “Slow down! We haven’t even really discussed telling the team about this.”

You were then suddenly aware of the absent sound of running water, realising Aaron was no longer in the shower.

“Look Em, I have to go. I’ll call you tomorrow?” You said.

“Will you actually answer my calls this…” you hung up before Emily could finish her sentence just as Hotch stepped out the bathroom, his towel wrapped around his hips and water trickling down his chest. You took your lip between your teeth, taking in Aaron’s torso as though it was the first time seeing it.

“Enjoying yourself?” Aaron’s chuckle drew you from your thoughts.

“Sorry!” You blurted out, turning around and throwing your phone on the cabinet. “You’re just hard not to admire.”

“Same could be said about you.” He smiled boyishly. “You look beautiful.”

“Stop talking shit Hotchner!” You laughed, throwing a pillow at him which he managed to catch with one hand, the other keeping the towel wrapped firmly around his hips.

“You look cute in my jumper.” He laughed. “I’m actually finding it hard not to come over and rip it off you.”

“Aaron! As much as I would like us to, we do not have time for sex right now!” You scolded him lightheartedly and he chuckled. “Get dressed and we’ll go get some breakfast.

As soon as Aaron was dressed, you both headed downstairs and were met by what looked like the entire bridal party.

“Jesus Christ.” You mumbled to Aaron as the two of you looked at the several bridesmaids all fussing around Sarah as she sat on a chair having her hair done, occasionally taking a bite of fruit.

“Good! You’re both here. Help yourself to breakfast!” Your mom ushered you in and handed you plates. You scooped up some fruit and pastries. You looked around for somewhere to sit and decided to settle on a stool at the kitchen island next to Liv who was already in her bridesmaid dress and sipping on a large mimosa.

“A little early don’t you think?” You joked.

“Of course not! There’s a wedding to celebrate.” She said in an attempt to mimic your mom before pouring you your own glass of champagne. “Drink!”

You clinked you glass with hers and took a large sip just as Aaron came and sat next to you.

“Would you like a mimosa Aaron? Or would you like something stronger?” Liv asked him.

“No, I’m fine thank you Liv.” He smiled.

“I never got a chance to thank you last night for punching Luke.” She continued and you smiled into your champagne flute. “It truly brought me so much joy.”

Aaron laughed nervously. “While it did feel right, it probably wasn’t one of my smarter ideas.”

“Oh no trust me honey,” you smiled. “It was one of the smartest ideas you’ve ever had.” And Liv nodded her head in agreement.

Aaron opened his mouth to reply but a stern voice caught all three of your attention.

“Y/N.” Sarah said, her hair and makeup all finished now. “Can we please talk?”

You nodded and the two of you walked into the study down the hall.

“What did you want to talk about?” You asked as soon as Sarah shut the door behind her.

“I want to accept your apology for last night.” Sarah said and you had to stop yourself from laughing.

“Are you serious? I have nothing to apologise for. Luke got what was coming to him. He’s a fucking ass.” You reply trying to keep your frustrations at bay.

“You two have been over for nearly two years now. Just get over it and move on.” Sarah replied angrily. “Luke is actually trying to make an effort to be nice and civil with you and you’re just so rude to him.”

You laughed loudly at her preposterous suggestion. “Funnily enough, calling me a slut doesn’t exactly scream being nice and civil.”

“You’re going to ruin my wedding.” She replied, tears threatening to spill from Sarah’s eyes. “Just be a good maid of honour and behave yourself.

“Behave myself? What am I? A disobedient dog?” You were angry now. “Fine! I’ll play all happy for now but if one thing happens with Luke, I don’t care anymore, I’ll punch him again myself and hope this time his nose does actually break!” And with that, you threw the study door open and strode out down the hall, back to the kitchen.

As soon as you appeared back in the kitchen, Aaron knew something was wrong. He excused himself from where he was stuck in a conversation with Liv and some other bridesmaids and made his way over to you.

“Are you ok?” Aaron asked as he placed a hand on your hip.

“Let’s just go upstairs and get ready.” You said, the feeling of Aaron’s hand on your hip helping you relax ever so slightly.

***

“Ok, how do I look?” You asked Aaron, stepping out of the bathroom to show him your bridesmaid dress. It was a gorgeous lilac satin that hugged your figure perfectly. “Sarah may be psychotic but I commend her for her choice of dress.”

Aaron looked up from where he was sitting on the bed. He had been ready for a while now but had no complaints after he saw you. He was utterly speechless. He thought nothing could top the green dress you wore last night but god, was he wrong.

“Do I look ok? Your silence is worrying me.” You laughed nervously.

“You look…” Aaron stood up and walked over to you, completely in awe of your appearance. “You look incredible.” A kiss on your lips. “Ethereal.” A kiss on your jaw. “Fucking beautiful.” A kiss down your neck.

Heat rose to your cheeks at Aaron’s words and you giggled as he continued to kiss and nibble at your neck.

“I need you.” Aaron groaned against your skin. “This dress is… hypnotic. You have me completely under your spell.”

You moaned quietly as he nipped some skin at the base of your neck. “Aaron…”

“Y/N?…” He imitated.

“We… need to go.” You gasped as Aaron raked his hand over your ass and up your back.

“I know…” he mumbled before pulling away and looking at you, his dark, lust-filled eyes locking onto yours. You leaned up and kissed him once more before walking to fetch your heels. “Such a tease.” Aaron chuckled as he watched you go and straightened his tie.

You smirked to yourself, you had no idea the bridesmaid’s dress was going to have such an effect on him. You were going to have fun with him at the wedding.

When you walked downstairs, Aaron’s hand placed at the small of your back to keep you balanced, gasps erupted and you looked up to see your mom, dad and Liv.

“No sorry! You have to take that dress of right now.” Liv said with a pout. “Because you look way hotter than me in it!” She laughed and you jokingly rolled your eyes.

“Let me get a picture of you two!” Your mom said excitedly, reaching for her camera and snapping you and Liv stood together in the hallway.

“Is bridezilla ready yet?” You asked which made Liv laugh and your mom throw you an annoyed look.

“Your sister is just having some photos taken by the photographer in the garden. You two will be needed soon for the bridesmaid’s shots.” Your mom explained.

“Have you seen Sarah yet dad?” You asked.

“Yes I have. She looks beautiful. Can’t believe my youngest girl is getting married.” He chuckled and you laughed along falsely and reached for one of the many champagne flutes scattered around the house, knocking it back.

“Y/N! Liv! We need you for photos.” One of the other bridesmaids, Lucy, called.

You walked outside and that was when you saw Sarah in her wedding dress. It was gorgeous with the most beautiful train and veil.

“Quick guys! We need to leave very soon.” Sarah called.

“Where’s the maid of honour?” The photographer asked and you awkwardly raised your hand. “Perfect, can you stand on the right side of the bride please?” And you took your place.

Sarah smiled at you. “You look beautiful sissy.”

You smiled at the nickname the two of you used when you were younger. “Thank you. You look gorgeous. Thomas is going to cry when he sees you.”

“You really think?” She asked with tears in her own eyes and you nodded.

The photographer quickly snapped some pictures of just the two of you together before taking several shots of the whole bridal party and some of Sarah with your parents. As soon as all photographs had been taken, it was time to head to the wedding venue.

***

Chaos. An hour until Sarah was to walk down the aisle and the rings had been misplaced. Sarah was on the verge of tears while your mom comforted her and everyone frantically searched for where the rings could have disappeared to. You had looked everywhere with absolutely no luck.

“What if they were left at home?” You asked.

“No! I definitely had them packed up in one of the boxes ready to come here.” Sarah said frustratedly. “Can you go and check with Luke? He might know where they are.

“Can’t someone else?’ You asked which in turn resulted in harsh glares from Sarah and your mom. “Fine! I’ll go and find him.” You said exasperatedly, rolling your eyes.

You left the room, closing the door behind you and saw Aaron down the hall on the phone to someone. As soon as he saw you, he said bye to whoever he was talking to and came over to you.

“Sorry, that was Dave. Just filling me in on the case the team are taking. You ok?” He asked.

“No… the wedding rings have gone missing so as my role as maid of honour, I am being forced to find them.” You sighed. “I just want the ground to swallow me up because now I have to go and find Luke to ask him if he knows where they are.”

“I’ll come with you?” He offered.

“No, it’s fine. I think I’ll survive.” You smiled and leaned up to place a peck on his lips. “I will see you in a minute.” And you headed to the other side of the building to where Luke would be.

“Sorry Matthew,” you tapped Thomas’ dad on the shoulder. “Have you seen Luke? I need to speak with him.”

“He should be just down the hall.” He slurred and you could smell the whiskey on his breath. “Just as long as you don’t punch him again!” He joked and you awkwardly laughed.

You rushed down the hall and saw Luke standing outside, taking a drag on a cigarette.

“Luke!” You called and he turned to you, quickly throwing his cigarette on the floor and stepping on it.

“What?” He asked abruptly and you took in his appearance. A cut across his nose and a slightly bruised eye. “That asshole boyfriend with you?”

“Aaron is here but he doesn’t feel the need to accompany me everywhere.” You rolled your eyes. “The rings are missing. Sarah wants to know if you knew where they were?”

“Yeah. They’re here.” And he fished into his suit pocket, pulling out two silver bands.

You snatched them from his fingers, frustration brewing. “For god’s sake! We have been looking everywhere for them. Why did you think it was a good idea to have them in your pocket?”

“Jesus Christ, chill!” Luke said defensively. “I didn’t know what was happening with them.”

“Well then you should have left them alone! You’re not the one who had to deal with a crying Sarah.” You replied. “Lucy’s daughter is bringing them down the aisle. I thought being the best man, you would have known that.”

“Fucking hell, do you always have to be so uptight about everything? You wonder why I dumped you!” He exclaimed and you sighed turning around to walk away. “At least with your sister knows how to have a good time. She was better in bed anyway.” And almost instantly, he realised what he had said and fear filled his eyes.

Your steps faltered at his words. You couldn’t move. Did Luke really just admit to sleeping with your sister? You turned slowly back around to face him and saw the worry in his eyes. All body function froze as you struggled to find the words to say.

“You… you slept with my sister?” You finally managed to ask. “When?… Why?…”

“It was… it was a month before we broke up.” Luke mumbled. “God, I didn’t want you to find out like this… I thought Sarah was going to tell you.”

You felt like you couldn’t breathe, tears began to cloud your vision as you took the information in.

“I mean, we knew it was wrong but we just couldn’t stay away from each other,” Luke continued. “And then after a month of sleeping together, I knew I had to end it with you. We carried on together well after you left but then she started dating Tom and she ended it.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Luke cheated on you with your sister… who the fuck does that?

“I… I have to go.” You muttered and quickly bolted down the hallway. So many thoughts flooded your head and you tried your best to stop the tears from spilling from your eyes. As you turned the corner you walked straight into someone who immediately grabbed you to keep you steady in your ridiculously high heels. You looked up and were met with the familiar face of Aaron. He immediately noticed the tears in your eyes and his eyes filled with concern. You threw your arms around him and buried your face in his neck, breathing in his cologne.

“Honey?… What’s wrong?” He asked worriedly. “Did something happen?”

“I’m trying so hard not to cry.” You croaked out. “It’s just… I don’t even know what to say.”

Aaron pulled away from your embrace and looked at your flushed face. “You’re worrying me Y/N,” he said with a frown. “What happened?”

You collected your thoughts and took a deep breath in before looking into Aaron’s eyes.

“Just hold me.” You muttered and Aaron pulled you close to his chest again, holding you in a tight hug and stroking your hair in an attempt to comfort you. You stayed like that for a few minutes and soon the shock of Luke’s revelation had worn off. Aaron pulled back and looked down at you, hoping you were going to tell him what had happened.

“What happened Y/N?” Aaron asked again.

You looked up at him and took a deep breath. “I found the rings, Luke did have them.”

“Ok… that’s good.” Aaron replied nonchalantly but was desperate to find out what head caused you to become so upset.

“I also found out that…” you took a deep breath. “Sarah and Luke had also been sleeping together… while we were still together.”

Aaron was left speechless. He thought he couldn’t despise Luke anymore but god he was wrong. He looked in your eyes and noticed that you were no longer upset but were now… actually, he had no idea how you were feeling.

“Y/N?” Aaron asked in an attempt to understand your emotions.

You looked up at Aaron and then back at the room Sarah was currently getting ready in before the built up anger of the weekend spilled out of you.

“Sarah had given my nothing but shit the whole time we’ve been here.” You began and Aaron took ahold of your hand to try and calm you down but he knew you had every right to be annoyed. “I have worked my ass off to try and appease her and get on with Luke and now it all makes sense. She didn’t want me to find out that she had been fucking him right under my nose!”

Before Aaron could even open his mouth to reply, you had pulled away from him and was walking towards where Sarah was. You threw the door open and Sarah immediately looked up with a hopeful smile.

“Did you find the rings?” She asked.

“Yeah I did.” You smiled falsely and began to walk into the room. “You know what I also found?”

Sarah shook her head while excitedly talking the wedding rings from your hand. “What?”

“I also found out that you and Luke were sleeping together behind my back.” And Sarah’s head quickly snapped up to look at you, panic completely filling her face.

“Y/N… it’s not what you th…” she paused as she realised there was no saving herself. “I’m sorry! I wanted to tell you, I really did! I just could never find the right time and then I started dating Tom and I thought it was best to just pretend it never happened.”

“Does Tom know?” You asked.

“I was going to tell him after the wedding.” Sarah mumbled.

“That’s a great idea.” You laughed. “Tell him you repeatedly fucked his best friend right after you married him.”

“Please Y/N… can we just leave this until after the wedding?” Sarah begged.

“You are unbelievable!” You exclaimed. “Tom deserves to know.”

“I deserve to know what?” Tom asked as Luke guided him into the room. His eyes were covered with a silk eye mask.

“Wait, what is happening?” You ask confused.

“Sorry baby, are you not ready yet for our first look?” Tom asked waving his arms in front of him in an attempt to grab Sarah’s arms.

“No I am ready, Y/N was just leaving.” Sarah huffed.

“Nope, I’m staying right here.” You said, taking a seat on the cushioned chair. Sarah glared at you while Luke attempted to leave the room. “Sarah actually has something to tell you Tom, don’t you sissy?” You condescendingly used the childhood nickname, the same nickname that had you wanting to be the perfect big sister and mid of honour mere hours ago,

“Oh my god… honey, are you pregnant?” Tom asked excitedly.

“No I…” Sarah’s breath hitched and for a split second, you regret making her do this. She lifted her hands up and gently removed the eye mask from his face and Tom’s face lit up when he saw Sarah in her wedding dress.

“Oh Sarah baby, you look gorgeous.” He beamed but his face dropped when he saw Sarah’s glum face. “Wh… what’s wrong?”

“I was sleeping with Luke.” Sarah said bluntly. “Just before we started dating but I ended it when we made it official.”

Tom froze, he opened his mouth to speak but no words came out.

“Please say something Tom. I’m sorry I never told you sooner.” Sarah said, tears filling her eyes.

“So… you were sleeping with Luke while he was dating your sister?” Tom asked. “How long has Y/N known?”

“Since 10 minutes ago.” You muttered and looked back at where Luke was standing at the doorway, a panicked look on his face.

“Tom I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before now,” Sarah repeated. “We can move on from this, be stronger as a couple.”

“Sarah I just need… a minute.” Tom sighed and quickly exited the room, Luke following him trying to offer apologies.

You turned to look at Sarah, her eyes filled with tears as she threw herself down on a chair.

“He’s not going to marry me.” She muttered. “Why did you force me to tell him?”

“Sarah… he had a right to know. Would you rather he found out from you or a drunken slip from Luke?” You asked.

“Just leave me alone! You really are the worst maid of honour and the worst sister.” Sarah shouted.

You stood up and quickly left Sarah to be by herself. Upon exiting the room, you saw Aaron and quickly walked up to him. You wrapped your arms around him and buried your head into his chest.

“Ok so… I’m the worst sister ever apparently.” You spoke into his chest.

“No you’re not,” Aaron mumbled into your hair. “She’s just angry you found out this way, you had every right to react the way you did.”

“But what if Tom calls off the wedding?” You asked, pulling back to look at Aaron. “Then Sarah really will hate me for the rest of my life.”

“Don’t worry about it, let’s go get some air, you need it.” Aaron said, intertwining your fingers together and guiding you towards the door. Once outside, you took in a deep breath and was thankful for the fresh air – the stuffiness and tension inside was suffocating. After a few minutes off a comfortable silence between the two of you, Aaron placed his arm around your shoulders and leaned down to place a kiss at his temple.

“Everything is going to be ok you know?” He said.

“How can you be so sure?” You questioned with a sigh.

“Because I’m a profiler.” He said and your rolled your eyes. “And I can see Tom coming back.” You suddenly snapped your head in the direction Aaron was looking and sure enough, Tom was striding towards you and Aaron, a determined look on his face.

“Is Sarah still inside?” He asked once he reached you.

You nodded.

“Thanks…” Tom said and then walked towards the entrance.

“I told you everything was going to be ok … I’m an excellent profiler.” Aaron turned to you with a smile.

You tried your best to fight the smile and jokingly punched him lightly on the arm. “Don’t jinx it, we don’t know what he’s saying to Sarah yet!”

“Stop being such a pessimist!” Aaron scolded jokingly, trying to lift your mood. “Come on, lets go inside and see if we can find out whats going on.” And the two of you walked back inside, hand in hand, ready to face whatever was coming… together.

***

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