#well it only took me like three years to finally make and post this.......
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marie stahlbaum ❅ the nutcracker’s princess
“you are a princess born, Marie, and you rule a bright and beautiful kingdom. but you will have much to suffer if you take poor deformed Nutcracker’s side… only you can [save him]. so be constant and true.”
#well it only took me like three years to finally make and post this.......#anyway she'll always be “clara” to me BUT I must admit that in the og story she was indeed “marie” even though it was written in german#marie stahlbaum#the nutcracker#nutcracker#the nutcracker and the mouse king#litedit#fairy tales#fantasy#fantasyedit#christmas#clara stahlbaum#tchaikovsky#christmasedit#yuletide#der nussknacker und der mausekönig
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ooh maybe a drabble/headcanons about remmick with technology in a modern au? i feel like he texts like a grandpa lol. he also probably would blow up your phone with the amount of messages he sends.
ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴀ ᴠᴀᴍᴘɪʀᴇ ᴀ ᴘʜᴏɴᴇ
ᴀ/ɴ: MY FIRST MODERN AU! i've been waiting for an excuse to make these headcanons and you've finally given me one anon!! these have been swirling in my mind for at least 2-3 weeks so it was very fun to finally get them out of my brain and onto a post. i had a lot of fun with this one, so enjoy y'all!
ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: just comedic unserious cutiepie remmick headcanons + tumblr formatting fuckery
y’all know that one clip from abbott elementary where barbara takes a picture of herself and says “now who took that picture of meeeee?”
yeah that just about sums up how remmick is with technology.
he’s terrible with anything that involves a screen, and understands how they work even less.
so there’s two very specific ways remmick texts (no inbetween), either like a hostage negotiator:
hello. this is remmick. are you safe. i miss you. i saw a rabbit today. thought of you. please advise. you left your socks here. i have kept them in a safe place. let me know if you require them back. can you call me. i don’t like the typing.
or like 50 messages with no punctuation whatsoever:
hi sweetheart i meant to tell you something hang on i saw a bird with red on its wings youd have liked it wait picture didnt work it’s gone now nevermind hi again i miss you do you want eggs in the morning
oh and he types with his pointer finger only so both ways take forever.
his ass can’t use emojis in the right context to save his life. i’m making soup 🐍 love you always 🔪🌹☁️🕊️🩸
please don’t try to videocall this man because you will get jumpscared. nose all up in the camera, blurry as hell, shouting “HELLO?!” like you just pulled him out of odinsleep.
also, screen brightness baffles him so bad. you once caught him squinting at his dimmed phone for half an hour before he asked you: “has the light inside it gone out?”
you showed him how to use spotify one day and he takes making playlists so seriously. each one has a full sentence title, three paragraph description, and some kind of memory attached to it. your favorites are: “for when the world is too loud and you are my quiet.” “i would have danced to this with you in 1945.” “this one made me think about your ankle.”
even a centuries old vampire loves video games just as much as you do. his favorites are the sims (painstakingly rebuilt your entire life together), animal crossing (5 star island and he does not play about his landscaping), and stardew valley (probably holds the world record for largest farm ever and you stopped asking what year he was on after 55)
he said he hated reality tv... so why do you find him curled up next to you every summer to watch love island? he’s a diehard amaya/olandria stan, of course, and he WILL find a way to work his phone so he can cast them votes.
he doesn’t trust the cloud, naturally. “why do we put our memories in it?” “what if it rains? what happens then?” “no, i won’t put your birthday photos there. the sky doesn’t need them.”
he saves every single voicemail you leave him, even if it’s just a simple “call me back.” sometimes you’ll randomly leave him one just for him to add to the collection.
he only uses social media for the animal pictures and videos so when anything else plays he just stares at the screen like 😐.
well that’s a lie he’d definitely follow a bunch of irish nature accounts and will shove his phone in your face while talking about what he remembers from each photo.
yes he does have 97 tabs open and no he won't close any of them. his excuse is always the same. “what if i need them later?”
someone texted him lmao once and he showed it to you with the most confused look on his face. “are they alright?” “it means laughing my ass off.” “…can that happen?”
in conclusion, leave the millennium old grandpappy alone.
#remmick x reader#remmick x you#remmick#remmick sinners#sinners movie#sinners 2025#sinners#sinners remmick#headcanons#remmick headcanons#fluff#remmick fluff#jack o'connell#jack o'connell x reader#remmick x black!fem!reader#remmick x black!reader#black!fem!reader#black!reader#ryan coogler#tumblr cant handle my formatting ive tried everything to fix it
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𝖆𝖋𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖉𝖆𝖗𝖐
𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖐 𝖈𝖆𝖒𝖕𝖇𝖊𝖑𝖑 𝖝 𝖆𝖋𝖆𝖇!𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗
𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙: 14.7k
𝖘𝖞𝖓𝖔𝖕𝖘𝖎𝖘: you met your best friend julia in highschool two years before graduation, you kissed her older brother on halloween, logic says that four years later, you would completely forget about something like that, right?
𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘: mutual pining, a little bit of angst, mentions of a cheating boyfriend, drunk kisses, rated n for nasty, SMUT, cursing, cliche in the form of falling for your best friends older brother. also julia is a lesbian no i don’t take criticism.
𝖆𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗𝖘 𝖓𝖔𝖙𝖊: hey gang, so, in an attempt to write something small before releasing another chapter of an ongoing series, somehow i managed to turn this into a 14k word slow burn, please enjoy and as always comment and reblog to show your support! it means the world to me! also massive thanks to @babybluebex for brainstorming all of this with me including being the one who came up with the idea that erik drove a 2005 ford taurus post graduation.
It hadn’t been something you expected when you became friends with Julia, being paired together for a project by your teacher in eleventh grade had seemed to be some sort of divine intervention.
Initially, you’d been apprehensive; Julia was hardly the type of person you would be drawn to, her blonde hair and tan being a more than enough difference to your own more alternative choice of dress and appearance, yet somehow, a friendship bloomed quite promptly.
She’d been so sweet, offering you gum while you sat together and cracking jokes that actually made you laugh, not at all the dense popular girl stereotype you’d unfairly constructed of her inside your own mind. Julia actually evidently loved hanging out with you, and you with her.
Where you’d first spent time with each other out of obligation, sitting together in the library to study together or inviting her around to your house to work on the project, it then turned into going to the mall together and sitting together at lunch so that she could bitch about her brothers and laugh about things with you.
The first you’d heard of her brothers was purely by mention when you were studying together in the public library after school, Julia’s phone had vibrated, and she opened it up only to chuckle and type something back.
“Who’s that?” you’d asked curiously, peering your head over with a smirk, initially thinking that maybe it was a boy, someone she’d been flirting back and forth with.
“Just my brothers.” she’d laughed, turning her phone around to reveal the photo that had seemingly been taken from the inside of a car, two males varying in age making silly faces at the camera as the older brother drove, the photo seemingly taken by the younger.
“Oh, i didn’t know you had any siblings.” you’d responded, nodding your head as you looked back at the photo.
“Yeah well, Erik already graduated, and Bobby’s three years younger than me.” Julia explained, shrugging her shoulders as she closed her laptop and began placing things in her bag, humming to herself.
“They’re actually on the way to get me now. Do you need a lift?” She’d offered, smiling across at you in that way that was always contagious, leaving you unable to stop your own smile from crawling across your features.
Mulling the offer over in your head, you bit your lip and tapped your pencil against the table, trying to decide whether or not you wanted to stay a bit longer. It was pretty late after all, just now starting to get dark outside, even if it was only about six thirty, even more of a marker that summer was starting to finish up.
“If that's okay?” you finally asked, starting to pack up your own things as Julia nodded brightly and excitedly, holding out her hand for you as soon as you stood, which you took in your own, swinging your interlocked hands together as you exited the library.
“You should sleep over!” she offered, seeming like she was excited by the idea as she gripped your hand tighter, only spurring on a laugh from you. “We can watch that stupid movie, fuck what was it called..” she trailed off, placing a hand on her forehead as she tried to remember.
Snapping her fingers, she pointed a finger at you as her eyes brightened up, “After! The one that was like a fucked up Harry Styles fanfiction!”
Rolling your eyes, you groaned audibly and tilted your head back, looking back at her as she nodded in tandem with you shaking your head.
“Jesus christ, no, Julia.” you laughed through your words, still holding her hand as you stood by the entrance of the library and waited for your lift to arrive.
“I’ll sleepover, but we’re not watching that movie.”
Seemingly only excited that you said yes to the sleepover, Julia did what could only be described as a little happy dance, balancing her books in one hand as she held yours with her other.
“Oh my god, im so excited, i’ll get Erik to order us pizza.”
As if it were a speak of the devil type summoning, the sound of what could only be described as a tin man gargling nails began to sound out in the distance, your brows furrowing as you looked around the almost abandoned parking lot for the source of the sound.
Coming peeling around the corner, the silver car that looked to be a model that was over a decade old pulled into the parking lot of the library, its motor sounding like the depths of hell and the tires skidding slightly as the driver turned.
The sound of metal music blaring only got louder as the car got closer. You could see the passenger side window rolling down when it finally pulled up in front of you, Julia walking down the steps with a large grin as she waved.
You were hesitant as you stepped after her, part of you worried that this car could blow up any second based on the sound, much less hesitant to get inside based on the way her brother was driving.
“My friend’s coming over to stay.” she spoke matter-of-factly, opening the back door and leaning in to seemingly brush trash away, old cigarette packets and McDonald's bags.
When she shuffled her way into the backseat, you leaned in to finally catch a glance at these lucrative brothers, the youngest of whom in the front passenger seat couldn’t have been any older than fifteen, waved at you and grinned, looking like the nicest kid you’ve ever seen in your life.
The older brother, the one in the driver's seat with one hand resting on the steering wheel, only spared a glance at you as you got in, buckling your seat belt.
“Did you ask dad?” he spoke pointedly, looking at Julia through the rear-view mirror with his eyebrows raised, only for Julia to roll her own eyes and let out a long sigh.
“Dad doesn’t care.” she responded, her tone laced with an overwhelming sense of sass that for a moment you wondered if she even got along with her brother.
Just as you thought an argument was potentially going to start between the siblings, the eldest brother, Erik, shrugged his shoulders before putting the clutch into drive.
“Works for me.”
Before you even got the chance to open your mouth to thank him for giving you a ride, you were gripping the passenger door for dear life as he spun the steering wheel and turned the radio back up, peeling out of the library parking lot like he was drag racing.
When looking over at Julia, she only laughed at your nervous expression, evidently used to her brothers' more than lenient view on traffic laws and speeding limits.
Managing to make it to the Campbell family home without crashing, even if your legs felt wobbly getting out of the absolute death trap that was Erik’s 2005 ford taurus, you and Julia retired to her bedroom and began to settle in for a movie night, even if she’d gone ahead and put on that stupid after movie anyway.
You’d be lying if you said you weren’t finding yourself even slightly pulled in by the awful plot and acting, turning into a hate watch as you sat on the bed with Julia.
“This is horrible.” she wheezed as you sat shoulder to shoulder, shovelling popcorn into your mouths together.
You shrugged your shoulders, tilting your head as a scene with the main male lead played on the screen, a horrid rendition of a Harry Styles knockoff, though the tattoos weren’t bad.
“He’s kinda hot.” you mused, unable to stop yourself from cracking up as you watched Julia’s face contort into a look of judgment and horror all at once.
“Ew! He literally looks like my brother!” she cried, holding her hand out at the screen for extra emphasis.
The sudden realization of the shared resemblance between the two men made you almost spit out your popcorn with laughter, leaning over the side of the bed to cough as you both laughed until your stomachs hurt.
This was always going to be the sign that you and Julia were going to be best friends for the rest of your lives, only with her did you ever laugh so hard that you got lightheaded or feel comfortable telling even your deepest thoughts.
The rest of that same year had been more than enough time for you to wedge your way into the Campbells’ lives, coming around almost every week, her parents loved you, always overjoyed when you came around to the point it was like you lived there half the time.
Dinner sat with the rest of her family, or barbecues out in the backyard when the weather was warm, there was so much effort on her and her family’s part to include you.
It made your heart soar.
So much of your time was spent by Julia’s side, whether it was playing video games with Bobby or the pair of you begging Erik for a lift to the mall, the pair of you putting all of your power to be annoying together to eventually get him to cave every time.
“Ok, Ok, if i take you to the mall, will you both shut the fuck up and leave me alone.” he’d groan from where he sat on his bed, the pair of you nodding excitedly from where you’d stuck your heads into his room.
Howard had seemed to recognise parts of himself in you, even if you didn’t say it, you both knew that the Campbells were the closest thing to family you had. With your mother’s tight work schedule, the only family member you had was barely home half of the time, leaving you to essentially need to function on your own.
The Campbells’ family home became your safe haven, to the point that the guest room started becoming your go-to bedroom when you came to sleep over. Your possessions and clothes were starting to be left in there to the point that it was hardly even a guest room anymore.
Within a year, you’d been accepted as an extra family member.
Even your eighteenth birthday had been spent with the Campbells, who’d gone to the trouble to get you a cake and prepare a little barbecue with some small decorations.
As much as they might have thought it was small, you hugged Julia behind closed doors and cried softly in her arms, so thankful to have her in your life to the point of tears.
Bobby and Erik had even gone to the trouble to get you a present, Bobby handing it to you sheepishly as Erik stood behind him with his hands in his pockets.
You hugged Bobby tightly and resisted the urge to pinch his cheeks, the now sixteen-year-old looking awfully proud of himself.
“Alright, come here..” you’d heard Erik say, laughing together as he pulled you into a one-armed side hug, his desire to put forward a nonchalant nature betraying him as soon as he’d seen your eyes start to fog up all over again.
While they might not have thought it was anything special, the little Claire’s necklace never left your neck from that day onwards, even when the chain started to rust, you just got a new one.
The little skull and crossbones were a pretty obvious nod to your alternative choice of wear, something that you and Julia always thought was funny, the stark difference between your two styles always being a point of conversation.
It only made sense that when Erik needed somebody to practise on when he started getting trained to be a body piercer by the tattoo shop in town, Julia had come to you.
“Fuck no.”
“Please! He just needs to do a nose, then they can upskill him, he only needs one person!”
Julia sat across from you in the food court, her arms outstretched towards you as he gripped your wrists and shook them softly.
“I’m not letting your brother come anywhere near me with a needle!” you argued, pulling your hands away from her, only for Julia to put her hands together in a motion that looked similar to either prayer or begging.
“Come onnnn! He won’t stop bugging me about it! If he can’t get his certificate, he’s gonna be miserable, and I’m the one that’s gonna have to deal with it.”
You sat and stared for a few moments, biting your lip, obviously a free nose piercing wasn’t something you would normally turn down, considering you wanted it for ages, but the idea of letting Erik do it only filled you with anxiety.
It would look pretty sweet, though.
Holding up a pointed index finger, you watched Julia’s expression light up with hope.
“You have to hold my hand.”
Your confirmation made Julia practically jump out of her seat, pulling you into a hug and rocking you back and forth as you tried to push her off.
“Thank you!” she cried out.
That was how you then found yourself lying back in the black leather chair in the tattoo studio Erik was currently apprenticing at, Julia sat by your side and gripping your hand tightly as Erik used a marker to put a little dot on your nose.
“Please don't kill me.” you whispered, only producing a chuckle out of him as he rolled his stool back to reach for the sterilized needle on his side table.
“I make no promises.” he spoke softly, only to receive a smack on the shoulder from Julia.
“Shut up, she’s already nervous.”
When he finally pushed the needle through, you shut your eyes and squeezed Julia’s hand so hard that you thought you might hurt her, trying to maintain a steadiness to your breathing as he put the jewelry through, a plain silver stud.
Maybe it was a good way to celebrate being eighteen, being able to sign off on your own piercing, just so happened that it was convenient timing to be around the same time Erik needed a guinea pig.
Rising from the leather seat slowly, as instructed, you could already see Julia smiling brightly as she leaned in to have a closer look.
“Look’s hot.” she mused, only resulting in you rolling your eyes.
“Shut up.” you chuckled, pushing her shoulder slightly so that you could pick up the mirror Erik was handing you, holding it up to your face and beholding the small silver stud that was now sticking through your nose.
You loved it, of course you did, and it was difficult to hide that, considering the massive grin coming across your face, turning your view to where Erik sat, satisfied with his work.
“Well, you’re not dead.” he stated with a smirk, tossing the used needle in a jar. “Guess that means I did a good job.”
Shaking your head, you pushed yourself off of the black leather chair and reached forward to take Julia’s hand in your own, grabbing your bag off her shoulder and swinging it over your own.
“Thank you, Erikkkk..” you mused, swinging Julia’s hand in your own as you headed for the exit, swinging the studio door open with a ring of the bell and walking out, laughing with Julia as you did.
-
Halloween was always something you’d loved as a child, fond memories of fake blood and jack o lanterns that still brought warmth to your heart even now.
Obviously the holiday and its activities seemed to take a sharp turn when you turned eighteen, the party you and Julia had been invited to promising to be a “rager.” or at least that’s what Julia had said.
Her bluetooth speaker had thrilled blasting out of it as the pair of you got ready together, finally looking at yourself in the floor length mirror, your mouth hanging open at the costume she’d convinced you buy.
“Julia, I can’t wear this.” you spoke, turning to look at where she was sitting on the floor applying mascara with her hand mirror, her head turning to look at you as she looked you over and shook her head.
“It’s perfect, I was right.”
Her words only brought a huff from you, the short skirt and fishnets seeming an odd match for the red hooded cape and corset, a crude version of a sexed up red riding hood.
As much as you wanted to pull it off of your body and opt for something else, maybe even something that was genuinely scary, you knew there was no arguing with Julia, especially when she had set her mind on something.
Apparently her mission for the night was to get you laid, at least that’s what it seemed based on what she’d picked for you.
You knew there was a girl that was going to be at the party that Julia had her eyes on, the pair of them having been exchanging flirty text messages for a few weeks now, so you were wholeheartedly supportive of that.
“Oh yeah, don’t forget to ask Erik if he’ll buy us some booze.” she mused, applying a coat of lip gloss and adjusting the sleeping beauty costume she’d changed into.
“I don’t understand why we can’t just drink the beer in the fridge downstairs, didn’t your dad say we were allowed to?”
Howard was an executive for a local brewery, and in turn, always had access to a stupid amount of beer, tucked away in a fridge downstairs that he’d given you both express permission to take from for the night, along with the promise of drinking responsibly.
“I’m not drinking beer all night, besides, Erik already agreed to drop us off, not that big of a deal for him to stop and get us a bottle of vodka or something.”
You didn’t realise you’d already had a lift organised, assuming that you’d either walk or get picked up by somebody else in attendance, but you weren’t complaining, the boots you were wearing with this outfit certainly weren’t made for walking.
“Can you go ask him, please? I have to finish doing my hair.” Julia mused, her eyes not turning away from the mirror as she plugged in her curling iron.
Rolling your eyes, you nodded, walking out of her bedroom and taking the eight steps down the hallway to bring yourself to Erik’s closed door, a sign reading “KEEP OUT.” greeting you.
Rapping your fist on the door, you heard shuffling for a few moments, footsteps getting closer before the door finally opened, Erik’s grumpy face awaiting you.
His expression shifted rather quickly when he saw your outfit, his brows furrowing and his lip curling in a look that read nothing but judgement.
“Seriously?” he breathed with a scoff, his response making you cross your arms and feel just a tad bit more self conscious.
“Julia made me wear it.”
Your reasoning seemed to leave him unconvinced as he leaned on the door frame.
“Yeah, well, it looks like it’s missing some fabric.” he spoke, reaching forward to pull softly at one of the sleeves, bringing it up to try and cover more of you. “You’re not gonna wear a jacket or anything?”
His voice held the slightest bit of concern, but you brushed it off with a sigh, tapping your foot impatiently against the hardwood floor.
“Can you buy us a bottle of vodka?” you asked, only for Erik’s brows to furrow just as the sound of Julia’s footsteps started to come in behind you.
“Pleeaasee!” she begged, a bottle of beer in each hand, one of which she promptly handed to you, which you took a tip of and curled your face up in a cringed expression, made sense why she didn’t wanna drink this all night.
“Dad gave you permission to drink from the fridge didn’t he? so why is it my problem?”
Julia let out a groan, hand reaching into her purse as she ruffled around and eventually pulled out a fifty dollar bill which she passed over your shoulder and held out to her brother.
“You can keep the change, just please, I can't drink this shit all night.”
As the pair of you stood in front of Erik, making a show of making puppy dog eyes at him, he seemed unconvinced until he took another look over at you, his expression changing just the slightest when he looked down at you, only to sigh and take the bill from his sisters hand, signalling that he agreed.
-
Pulling up to the house, you and Julia sat in the backseat of Erik’s car, multicoloured lights in the windows and music already blaring out.
Julia’s hand in your own, you opened the door and crawled out of the car, almost tripping over as you exited, only eliciting loud laughter from you and Julia, already a little bit tipsy off the vodka you’d both been taking turns sipping at.
Turning back to face the car, you both waved at Erik as you stumbled onto the sidewalk, leaning in each other.
“Thanks Erik, we love you!” Julia yelled, resting a hand on your shoulder.
“Alright, Just be careful! Ok?” he yelled out to the pair of you, taking one final look at you before he pulled away and drove away, leaving you and Julia to your party.
The night consisted of the usual shenanigans, jell-o shots and dancing to shitty music, far too many drunken selfies taken in your costumes as you and Julia celebrated your last Halloween as highschool students.
It was coming around to almost one in the morning when you were letting one of the guys from your science class suck on your neck, pushed against a wall outside and giggling to yourself as his hands gripped your hips.
It wasn’t anything special, just a drunken make out at a party as was the usual, letting out soft exhales and moans as you ran your fingers through his stubble.
Julia and you had been separated when she’d pulled you aside to tell you she was going to say hi to the girl she’d been texting with, also known as, i’m going to go make out in the bathroom with this girl, which you had no problem with.
Just as the boy from your science class hands began to wander, you heard your name being called out, your head turning to look in the direction of Julia drunkenly calling out for you.
Pushing him off of you, you laughed softly at his insulted look, putting a hand flat on his chest as you wished him a good night and walked away, going on the direction that Julia’s voice was coming from.
While it initially took a little bit searching, you eventually found where she was standing by the back door, your arms outstretching and a wide smile on your face when you spotted each other.
Grinning like a pair of idiots, you used each other as support as you walked back through the house, more than intent on heading home for night, knowing exactly who you would be calling to drive you.
As the pair of you sat on the sidewalk, now shivering in the october weather but not seeming to have a care in the world, you wheezed as you watched Julia struggling to get out her phone, paired with a sloppy attempt at tapping Erik’s name in the contacts.
Listening to the phone ring, Julia’s head found its place comfortably on your shoulder, the two of you swaying softly as you waited for her brother to pick up the phone.
You knew Erik wouldn’t have been asleep by now, he’d always been a night owl for as long as you’d known him, even now that he worked full time at the tattoo shop, so it was hardly surprising when he picked up relatively quickly, sounding wide awake.
“What is it?”
His annoyed voice only made you and Julia snicker, the state you were both in making everything seem hilarious, especially when it was coming from her older brother.
“Erikkkk…” Julia spoke in a little sing song voice, making you laugh even harder in a way that made you feel like you couldn’t even breathe properly.
“Come pick us up!” you continued for Julia, leaning towards the phone to make sure the receiver could pick up your voice. “It’s cold and we’re drunk!”
Initially you could hear an audibly annoyed sign coming from the phone, but it seemed Erik knew better than to try and say no, especially considering that he’d been explicitly told by Howard to pick the two of you up if you rang.
“I’ll be there in ten.” he spoke, “I swear to god if either of you vomit in my car, I’ll kill you.”
His warning was ignored, only a resounding cheer from you and Julia as you watched her try to hang up the phone sloppily.
“I can’t hang up, you do it.” she said through her laughter, handing the phone to you.
“Love you, Erik.” you slurred slightly, a giggle leaving your throat as you hung up the phone.
He said he’d be there in ten, but he made it in eight.
Helping Julia into the car first, when he turned to help you, his eyes drifted to your neck immediately, focusing in on the purple marks along your skin, seeming to visibly stiffen and take in a sharp breath when he saw them.
Too drunk to notice or care, you just let him help you into the car and laid your head against Julia’s shoulder, the pair of you smiling like idiots and occasionally giggling to yourselves as Erik drove you home silently, seeming slightly more ticked off than you would have expected.
When you finally arrived home, Julia had managed to get out of the car without too much of a struggle and make her way back inside, leaving Erik to help guide you up the path to the front door, his hand resting on your back.
As you tried your hardest to sneak back inside the house quietly even with your inebriated state, you expected Erik to find the sight of you this drunk to be more amusing, yet when you looked at him as you laughed, his face was stone cold, his eyes straight ahead.
It made the smile fall off of your face as you finally made it to the guest room, turning to look up at him as you stood in the doorway, grabbing his upper arm when he went to try turning and walking away without a word.
When you’d grabbed him, he turned, but he didn’t look at you, keeping his eyes trained in the ground as he stood there.
“What is it?” you asked, stepping closer and using the hand on his upper arm to try and rub his shoulder comfortingly. “I’m sorry, we shouldn’t have called you, we just didn’t wanna walk home and-“
“It’s not that.” he interrupted, finally looking down at you, his eyes once again going to the marks across your neck, clearly showing what he was annoyed about yet not saying a word.
Furrowing your brows, you were confused, he was clearly annoyed about something yet he wasn’t even willing to explain himself? that wasn’t your problem.
“If you’re not gonna tell me what’s wrong, then how am i supposed to fix it?”
Your hand reached up to grip his chin between your thumb and your index finger, forcing him to look at you, offering up a smile in the hopes of him actually explaining rather than just brooding.
He was twenty three now, his face had taken on just a little bit of stubble and he’d cut his hair a bit shorter from when you met him, now that he was working at the tattoo studio, he’d gotten his ears pierced, the thick rings hanging from his lobes.
When he’d mentioned wanting to get his septum pierced, you disagreed, but you had a feeling he was planning on doing it anyway.
You weren’t entirely sure why you did it, maybe it was the alcohol, or the leftover adrenaline from making out with a stranger, but you got on your tippy toes and put a hand on Erik’s cheek, capturing his lips in a kiss that had him letting out a small sound of shock.
Any second now, he was gonna push you away, let you down easily and let you live out the embarrassment of kissing your best friend's brother.
Until he didn’t, instead, Erik’s hands were immediately on your hips, pushing you into the guest room and pushing the door closed as he did.
His face was warm, his cheeks seeming to be burning up as you both held your eyes shut and let a sloppy make out begin to take place, just as you had been doing before, except as opposed to the boy from your science class, Erik seemed to know exactly what he was doing.
His hands squeezed your hips tightly, his tongue immediately pushing its way into your mouth without hesitation.
You felt like your nerves were on fire as he pushed you against the wall, holding you against it with a strength that only made you want more of him, desperately.
It had seemed that your hand guiding itself down his body before finally running your fingers along the hard tent in his jeans had only resulted in the harsh reality of the situation coming crashing back down on the pair of you.
Where you were, who you were currently kissing, as well as who you were.
Never before had you ever seen Erik pull away so quickly, taking a step back and looking at you, taking in the sight before him of you panting with swollen lips in your skimpy little halloween costume.
Shaking his head, he took another step away from you, a hand coming to wipe his face as he turned for the door.
He didn’t say anything when he left, opening the door and walking out, closing it behind him as you listened to his footsteps getting quieter and quieter as he walked away and back upstairs to his room.
As you stood there, it dawned on you that you had absolutely no clue why you’d done that, maybe you were just still too drunk to realise why kissing your best friends older brother was a really fucking bad idea.
Even more so, you had no idea why the rejection had stung as much as it had, tears beginning to prick at your eyes as you took in a shaky breath and started to rip off the costume that was now feeling more constricting than anything else.
He didn’t talk to you the next morning, wouldn’t even look at you when he walked into the kitchen for breakfast with the rest of the family, just grabbed a juice out of the fridge and went back to his room.
Your brain was swimming with the possibilities of what he must be thinking of you, who gets that drunk and kisses someone’s brother with no fear of the repercussions, did he think you were a slut?
For some reason, the thought that he felt that way about you just made you even more upset.
Life continued on after that halloween, you and Julia’s friendship stayed the same, and eventually both you and Erik just continued on as you always had, electing to both ignore the kiss as if it had never happened.
You never spoke about it, and seemingly had no intention to.
Julia started at college, you didn’t, but even as Julia’s free time dwindled, you were still around at the Campbell’s house fairly often, even if it wasn’t for sleepovers anymore.
As often as her schedule would let you, you and Julia still spent time together as often as possible, oftentimes meeting her on campus to have lunch together, or even just to sit with her while she studied in the library, even if it meant sitting on your phone in silence.
Initially, the closest you and Erik ever got to addressing what happened was an awkward smile when the two of you crossed paths in the house, but eventually, things returned to the way they were, a comfortable friendship was reestablished between the two of you, which allowed for matches of Mortal Kombat to become a common past time while you waited for Julia to finish classes for the day, or even messaging him to ask for a lift when he finished work when you were going to visit Julia at the house.
You even let him pierce you a few more times, unable to hide your expression when you’d walked into the shop, only to see he’d gone ahead and gotten his septum pierced.
“I thought I was gonna hate it.” you mused as he got his supplies ready, marking up the other end of your nose to prepare you for getting your other nostril done.
“Does that mean you like it?” he asked with a laugh, the two of you now more than used to this routine to just talk casually while he lined up the needle.
“No I- jesus, ow. No, I don’t.”
You tried not to scrunch your nose as he pushed the jewellery in, holding the mirror up to look at the two perfectly lined up matching studs now sitting on your nose.
“Too bad, it’s not going anywhere.” he shrugged his shoulders, rolling away in his chair and taking off the black latex gloves he’d been wearing.
“I thought you thrived off my approval.” you spoke sarcastically, tilting your head as you stood, swinging your bag over your shoulder.
“Oh I do, I just don’t care.”
His response incited a laugh from you, rolling your eyes as you reached for your purse, opening it and beginning to rifle through the bills sitting inside.
“Don’t worry about it.” Erik spoke, waving his hand at you as he began to clean off the chair and prepare for the next client.
“Erik, I can’t not pay you, won’t you get in the shit with your boss?”
Struggling his shoulders, he continued laying out his tattoo supplies, wrapping the gun as he spoke.
“Call it an early birthday present.”
Part of you was touched that he remembered your birthday was coming up soon, but considering that Julia had probably already been talking about it, you suddenly weren’t surprised.
Letting out a stubborn sigh, you just shook your head and put your purse back in your bag, turning to walk out.
“Thaaaanks Erik.”
Ever since he’d given you your first piercing, it just became the norm to always give him the same thank you in the same sing-song tone.
You weren’t teenagers anymore, hell, Erik was turning twenty six in may, but even now, so many years later, neither of you wanted to address the unspoken ‘thing’ you two had, whatever you could call it.
Sometimes you could have sworn Julia knew, she always was more observant than she let on, and there was only so many times the glances shared between you and Erik were going to go left unnoticed.
You couldn’t pretend you hadn’t noticed the look he’d given you when he pierced your tongue for your twenty-first birthday, or how hard he’d gripped his coffee mug when he watched you cry to Julia over your boyfriend cheating on you.
It was pathetic really, to be crying in your best friends arms over a relationship that hadn’t even lasted a full year, but when you’d found the pictures on his phone of other girls, and the messages he’d been exchanging, it still wrecked you to what felt like the point of no return.
Julia seemed to save the i told you so’s and just let you cry it out in her arms in her bedroom, as much as she’d always hated your boyfriend, especially the way he treated you, she understood that right now you were in pain.
You weren’t concerned about Erik standing in the doorway, if anything, it was nice to have two people to vent to, especially when it was him who came and picked you up with Julia when you’d called her in tears.
“I found the photo’s on his fucking phone.” you sniffled, wiping your red and puffy eyes with you sleeves as Julia rubbed your back. “He’s been fucking other girls since we got together.”
Your voice broke as you finished your sentence, seeing Julia shaking her head out of the corner of your eye, Erik muttering something to himself that you couldn’t quite hear, but enough to understand he was pissed on your behalf.
“What a lowlife.” you heard Erik scoff, his comment bringing a soft laugh out of you surprisingly, nodding your head in agreement as you sniffled.
“I wish I was gay so that we could just be girlfriends.” you laughed through your tears, inciting a laugh out of Julia.
She held you in your arms and let you cry it out for the rest of that night, and even though Erik went back to his room, you could tell what had happened had upset him.
You’d gone to his room and knocked on the door later that night when you finally started to calm down, leaning in the door frame and offering a soft smile, as exhausted as you were.
“Thank you for coming to get me today.” you started when he looked up from his book, picking at your sleeve as you stood in his doorway.
“Of course,” he started, sitting up and putting his book to the side “Didn’t really want you spending another second at that assholes place.” he shrugged his shoulders, resting his elbows on his knees.
Nodding your head, you sniffled slightly and rubbed at your eye, willing any other tears away when Erik stood up from his bed.
“Hey, hey.” he said softly, his hands coming to rest on your shoulders, “Please don’t cry, especially not over someone like him. I hate seeing you cry.”
You let Erik pull you into his arms, not quite crying, but still shaking and shutting your eyes tightly.
“I just don’t know what I did wrong.” you whispered, Erik resting his chin on the top of your head as he rocked you softly.
“You didn’t do anything wrong.” he reassured you, simple yet effective, enough to have you nodding your head as he held you.
That was just over a year and a half ago, but it was still fresh in your mind.
As much as it was likely that the Campbell’s had something planned for your birthday, you decided you could find some comfort in your own company a few days before your birthday, maybe that was why you’d ended up in the bar in town, a cocktail nursed between your fingers as you watched a live band performing.
The bar was known for a more alternative crowd, fitting the bill for you anyway, and with the addition of live music for the night, it was a nice way to spend your free time.
It was reasonably packed for the show, taking you at least five minutes just to travel from one end to the other after getting your drink, needing to weave through people before you’d ended up in your comfortable little corner by one of the pillars.
When you’d been approached by the stranger, a smirk on his face and a confidence that you initially found off putting, his not very subtle flirting and willingness to playfully persevere despite your cold response, eventually he went from annoying to endearing.
You talked about all the basic topics, music, movies, anything really; he was very clearly just biding his time until you agreed to let him stick his tongue down your throat, which lucky for him, you eventually caved and let him.
What was a little pre birthday make out with a stranger after all.
He had you with your back against the pillar as he kissed you softly, a smile present on both of your lips as his hands found their way to your hips and yours became tangled in his hair.
It was really only by chance that your eyes had begun to scan the bar when he started to kiss along your jawline, your head turning to allow him access and your eyes opening lazily.
Fuck. Oh fuck.
There he was, leaning against the bar, a beer having been long forgotten in his hand, presently staring absolute daggers at the pair of you.
Erik’s glare wasn’t necessarily focused on you as it was on the guy that was presently all over you.
You were so sick of this, so tired of pretending that you never stopped thinking about the kiss you’d shared so many years ago on halloween, sick of the way he looked at you and just let the two of you pretend that there was nothing there purely just because he was your best friend's brother.
The eye contact you made with him was pointed, your mouth falling open in a gasp as a particularly sweet spot in between your neck and your jaw was caught between the strangers lips, yet you kept your eyes on Erik, who looked straight back at you.
Even from the distance, you could see him gripping his beer bottle just a little tighter, like he knew exactly what you were doing.
There wasn’t any room to pretend, you even let a few little soft moans leave you as you shut your eyes again, turning back to face the stranger again and kiss him in a way that was entirely just for show, hoping to incite some sort of jealous rage within Erik, so that might stop pretending and actually just take the plunge.
So many years spent pretending like you hadn’t developed something for him that extended beyond the reaches of just being friends, the tears you’d cried after he left the room on halloween, the way that you’d closed your eyes and wished it was him when your first real boyfriend took your virginity.
And yet, just as you’d feared, he did nothing.
Pushing the stranger off of you, you felt a pang in your heart, refusing to even speak a word in response to his questioning as to why you’d stopped, even when he’d called you a “fuckin’ tease.” as you walked away, pushing your way through the crowd and headed for the door.
The night air was cold, tears pricked at your eyes but you ignored them, only pulled your jacket closer to your body and began taking steps away from the bar and onto the sidewalk.
You didn’t even want to believe that you were hearing the sound of the bar door opening, your name being called and accompanied by fast footsteps; it wasn’t until a hand grabbed your shoulder and you were forced to turn and look at the perpetrator that you were face to face with those same icy blue eyes looking down at you.
“What the fuck was that?” he asked, his tone accusatory as if he didn’t know exactly what was happening back there in the bar, the way you were begging for him in every single way other than verbally.
“I’m tired of doing this, Erik.” you spoke, running a hand over your face as the two of you stood there in the cold.
“What are you talking about?” he asked, shaking his head in disbelief.
“You know exactly what i’m talking about.” you started, “are we just going to dance around this forever? pretend like it doesn’t exist? pretend that whenever i hear about you having some new little girlfriend for the week that i don’t die a little bit inside?”
By the way his face began to shift, you knew that he was well aware of what you meant, seemingly unable to find the words to say as he opened his mouth to speak, only for nothing to come out.
“We can’t.” was all he said when he finally spoke, his eyes remaining trained on you, hands staying stuck at his sides.
Your face contorted, a deep sigh leaving your lips as you shook your head, trying so hard to fight the way that your bottom lip was starting to wobble.
“We could.” you countered, bringing your hands to your pockets. “But you’re just a coward.”
You knew you didn’t mean that, but the pain in your chest was bringing fourth emotion that you’d had no way of getting out until now, so many things you’d wanted to say but never got the chance to.
Part of you wanted him to chase you, run after you calling your name like in the movies, but he didn’t, he just let you walk away, like he always did.
You’d regretted what you said as soon as you turned and walked away, feeling yourself already starting to sob quietly to yourself, wiping the tears from your eyes with your sleeve.
After that night, you hadn’t been round to the Campbell house for days, Julia had messaged you when she was free, offering to come and get you so that you could hang out, but you just lied through your teeth and told her you were busy.
It hurt to treat your best friend this way, but you were just too torn up to care, the risk of seeing Erik and having any chance of an interaction with him was just too much, more than you were willing to take.
Just as before, you were certain Julia had some idea as to what was going on, when you’d spoken to her on the phone and you’d said you weren’t feeling too good, she sounded too knowing for her own good when she said goodbye, like she had something she needed to go do, she sounded determined.
You just went to work and came home, the next three days being a slow moving blur of feeling nothing and then the next minute feeling everything.
It was exhausting pretending for so many years that you hadn’t felt the way that you did about Erik, pushing it down and acting normal.
Of course you had thought about how it would affect your friendship with Julia, it was one of only things you thought about every time Erik crawled his way into your thoughts, the potential for such a betrayal made you feel ill, but then the other part of you, the part that had known Julia for almost six years at this point, wondered if she would have accepted it, embraced it even.
Just as you were thinking of her, your phone began to buzz next to you on your bed, ripping you out of your thoughts and seeing the image of a photo you and Julia had taken together at a party as her contact floated above it.
With a sigh, you swiped to answer the call and put the phone to your ear, Julia’s voice immediately coming through.
“Happy Birthday!” she cheered, your brows scrunching together as you realised that you’d just forgotten your own birthday entirely.
“Holy shit.” you laughed softly, rubbing your eye as you sat up. “I didn’t even realise, I forgot my own birthday.”
Her laughter rang through, unable to stop a smile coming across your features no matter how hard you tried.
“When are you coming around? we got a cake for you and everything, well, mom did at least.” she explained, causing you to look over to your clock and see it was already one in the afternoon. Jesus.
“Uh, i’ll be around in like twenty, just let me have a shower.” you responded, standing up and reaching for the towel hanging on your door.
“Do you want me to ask Erik to come get you?”
The mention of his name had you stiffening up, the grip on your phone getting tighter as you walked into the bathroom.
“No.” you said flatly, only to correct yourself “I mean, i think i’ll just walk, i need the fresh air.”
Seemingly satisfied with your answer, Julie said goodbye and hung up the call, letting you turn the faucet and get the shower going.
-
The Campbell’s family home was always welcoming, even just walking in, it always felt warm, that was something you couldn’t deny.
It spoke volumes that they’d organised a birthday celebration for you, the only people that ever did, having not spoken to your mother since you graduated, it seemed they were the only family you had left.
When you’d walked around to the backyard, Julia was the first person to spot you, running to you with open arms and birthday wishes, pulling you in for a tight hug.
“You need to talk to Erik, he’s miserable.” she whispered to you as she hugged you, ignoring your confused face when she pulled away and took your hand, guiding you to where the rest of the family were.
Choosing not to address what she had said, you let yourself accept hugs and birthday wishes from Bobby, saying your hello’s to Howard and receiving a kiss on the cheek from Brenda.
You and Erik didn’t even look at each other.
He was sat on one of the outside chairs, nursing a beer which he took occasional sips at, staring at it like it was the most interesting thing in the world.
It was obvious to everybody around you that you were seemingly giving one another the silent treatment, yet they didn’t say anything, just allowed the festivities to continue as Howard worked at the grill and Julia handed you a white claw.
However you managed it, you’d been able to spend almost your entire birthday celebration without saying a word to Erik, even when Bobby and Julia had handed you a present that was labelled to have come from all three Campbell siblings, he still stood at a distance, talking to his dad or sulking a few meters away.
You knew completely that it was immature, to put this much effort into not even talking to him purely due to rejection, but the other part of you, that eighteen year old girl that cried herself to sleep after the boy she liked kissed her and ran out of the room? she was still there, and she was hurt.
By the time it all started to wrap up, Julia had already convinced you to stay the night, even if you were hesitant, she seemed adamant, giving you a look that seemed to imply that she knew exactly why you’d been acting so miserable, especially considering what she’d said to you when you’d arrived.
Wishing your goodnights to Howard and Brenda, you helped Bobby clean up while Julia packed up the leftovers, and yet during this entire time, Erik still sat outside, now nursing a cigarette between his fingers as she sat on the porch swing.
At first, you were going to turn around and go to bed, let him wallow out there and regret what was literally his decision in the first place, but when you turned, you came face to face with Julia, who had a brow quirked as she looked at you.
“Get out there,” she spoke with a hushed tone, pointing to the back door “and talk to him.”
You wanted to argue against it, really you did, but just as it had always been and will continue to be, there was no arguing with Julia.
Stepping out into the backyard that was now only lit up by garden lights, you could see Erik in the distance, the small orange glow on his cigarette lighting up his face as he inhaled.
Without saying a word, you came and sat down next to him, keeping your eyes forward as he did the same, the pair of you being too stubborn to speak at first.
As the silence grew, you huffed and crossed your arms, looking out at the garden that Brenda was so proud of.
“Julia told me to come out here and talk to you.” you finally broke, unable to stand just sitting there in the overwhelming tension any longer.
“She told *me* to talk to *you*.”
Erik’s response made you exhale out of your nose in a sort of soft laugh, at least only as much as you could laugh in that moment; it just made perfect sense that eventually Julia caught on to what was happening between you, it was bound to happen.
“I had a feeling she figured it out.” you mentioned, only for Erik to nod his head.
“She knew when i came home after the bar, said i looked like a kicked puppy.” he mused, a soft smile now falling across his features as he turned his head to look at you for the first time since you’d sat down next to him.
“I’m sorry.”
Your apology had him shaking his head and sighing.
“I’m the one that should be sorry. That wasn’t fair.”
“Which part, kissing me and then pretending it never happened? or friendzoning me for almost four years straight?”
It was crazy just how quickly the tension between you melted away when you finally started talking. Letting it boil in silence had probably been the least wise course of action, but you were anything if not stubborn.
“Both I guess?”
Letting out a small laugh, you let him continue.
“I’m not sorry about pulling away on halloween though, you were drunk, i wasn’t about to be the monster that screwed his little sisters shitfaced best friend.”
Seeming to let the last bit of tension fade away, he turned to face you completely, resting his elbow on the back on the porch swing.
“Even if she really wanted you to.” you said softly with a laugh, acknowledging that was the easy part, of course it had been a smart thing to do, considering Julia probably would have killed him if that were to have happened.
“Especially if she really wanted me to, of course you’d have to be drunk to wanna kiss this face.” he joked, pointing to his face with his index finger.
Shaking your head, you ran your hand along his arm that was resting in the backrest, furrowing your brows.
“I don’t know about that, i’m pretty sober.” you replied lazily, tilting your head as you smiled at each other “I still wouldn’t say no to a kiss if you’re offering.”
That seemed to add another layer of realism to it all, the reminder of who you both were, and the connection between you.
Julia had seemed to make it clear that you had her blessing, why else would she order you outside to talk to her brother, when she seemed to already know exactly what was happening when Erik had come home from the bar that night.
It was the sudden realisation that right here, right now, there was absolutely nothing stopping you anymore, that you’d effectively been given the green light.
So when that smile on Erik’s face only grew, it seemed like a knee jerk reaction as you both leaned in, hands coming to rest on each others cheeks as for the first time in almost four years, you laid a kiss against Erik’s lips, at least one that was going to be reciprocated without question.
Would it have cliche to say that it truly did feel like fireworks going off in your chest? like his fingertips were made of lightning as they rested against your neck, the thickly feeling of his facial hair not bothering you in the slightest.
God, he smelled like cigarettes and cheap cologne, but in the best way possible, just the same as he’d smelled when you first kissed him when you were eighteen, like nothing had changed at all since then.
But that was definitely a lie. Four years was a long time, a lot can happen in that time, lots of life to be experienced, and you were a very different person when compared to the version of yourself who was only just on the brink of graduating.
At first it felt like being stuck in this weird sort of limbo, you just kissed him softly like he was going to be spooked and run away like last time, some small part of your brain fearing it was going to happen all over again; yet when his hands fell to your waist and pulled you in closer, it felt like confirmation that he wasn’t planning on letting you go anywhere.
Finally breaking for air, you kept your foreheads connected, soft pants against each others lips while the pair of you just sat there and took one another in.
“Julia’s gonna kill us.” Erik breathed out with a soft laugh, the mention of it suddenly making you pull away and turn your head in the direction of the house.
As you both turned your attention back to the kitchen window, the sight of two heads quickly ducking out of view made it pretty clear that both of Erik’s siblings had been watching from a distance, seemingly to make sure everything went down smoothly.
Shaking your head, you turned back to Erik with a smile, your arms coming to wrap about his neck.
“Something tells me she had this all planned out from the beginning.” you spoke, just about to lean in to capture another kiss from Erik’s lips before his attention was caught by something around your neck, his hand coming up to wrap his fingers around the claire’s skull and cross bone necklace him and Bobby had gotten you almost five years ago now, which had now fallen out of its place hidden under your shirt.
He ran his thumb over the worn down metal, most of the details almost unrecognisable after so many years of wear, his smile growing as he chuckled.
“I can’t believe you still wear this thing.” he sighed, his eyes looking back up at you; his smirk definitely seemed to reveal that there was at least some small bit of satisfaction on his part, knowing you walked around with a necklace he got you around your neck.
“My ex hated it.” you laughed, leaning forward to east your forehead on his shoulder to try and shield the blush now steadily starting to form on your cheeks. “He told me it was weird to wear a necklace that my friend's brother got me, I think he was jealous of you?”
You heard Erik scoff, pulling away to see him rolling his eyes. “I literally met him once and he acted like he was ready to fight me any second, stupid.” he muttered the last part, only to lean forward and steal another kiss from you.
“Maybe he had a reason to feel threatened after all.” you spoke against his lips, allowing yourself to just sit back and enjoy the feeling of having your lips and face peppered with long overdue kisses.
“Mhm, maybe.” he laughed, bringing your face forward to lay a kiss on your forehead, letting you shut your eyes and melt into the feeling of him wrapping his arms around you and holding you there in a hug.
“He’d feel even worse if he knew what i’m gonna do to do as soon as we get back upstairs and in my room though.”
His sudden boldness had your head flying back, looking across at him as your face shifted from a look of shock, into an expression that resembled the exact image of a horned up teenager, biting your lip and leaning forward to put a hand on his jean clad thigh.
Quirking an eyebrow at you, he let his hands squeeze your waist just a little bit tighter, his voice taking on a deeper and slightly more serious tone.
“You really shouldn’t have tried so hard to make me jealous back in the bar the other day.” he started, pulling you up with him as he stood, his grip on you tight like a vice. “Cause now i’m gonna do exactly what i wanted to do when i had to sit there and watch that fucker throw himself all over you.”
Without any other word exchanged, the pair of you were walking back into the house, hands gripped together.
The lights in the kitchen had been turned off by the time you made your way back inside, the rest of the Campbell’s seemingly excusing themselves into their respective rooms to go to sleep, providing a quick and easy uninterrupted party back up to Erik’s room.
It would have been a lie to say it didn’t feel like an adrenaline rush to practically be sneaking into his bedroom quietly, something you’d definitely thought about on more than one occasion, the thrill that would have come with sneaking around with your best friend's brother.
As much as she must have known exactly what she was doing, there was still some mischievous undertone to it all as Erik shut his bedroom door quietly and turned to face you.
With only his lamp illuminating the bedroom, it was dim but still light enough to make out his face clearly, even more so when he took the few small steps across the carpeted floor to now stand in front of you, looking down at you like you were something to be devoured.
“Do you have any idea how hard I jerked my cock when you left for that halloween party? When I watched you get out of my car in that outfit?”
His voice was rugged and deep, already resulting in your body starting to have a physical reaction, shivering as he stood over you, not too unlike the big bad wolf to your little red riding hood.
Biting your lip, you let your hand reach forward to trace your index finger over his belt buckle, watching him take in a sharp breath.
“Is this a good time to tell you it still fits?” you asked, tilting your head and doing your very best to look up at him with the innocent puppy dog eyes that you already knew drove him wild.
The sound he let out could truly not be described as anything other than a growl, a deep rumble from deep within his chest that had a shiver running along your spine.
Without another word, Erik leaned down to capture you in another kiss, except this was unlike the soft pecks you’d exchanged in the garden, this kiss was hungry, not too unlike the one you’d exchanged on halloween, you could tell from the way he began to grab at you that he was just as desperate as you were.
This was years of buildup now seeming to come spilling over, like the lid had well and truly been blown off and now it was all coming out in a wave, sexual frustration and jealousy for someone that you hadn’t even dated.
His hands molded to your body like they knew it instantly, knowing exactly where to hold you and where the little spots were that made you let out those little sounds that were like music to his ears.
Guiding you to the bed had been easy work, and when the backs of your knees touched it, he shoved you down before you could sit, landing on your back with a soft “Oomph!”
Standing above you now, you could only watch as Erik looked down at you, watch as he reached down to lazily pull at his belt until it became undone, unbuttoning his jeans and letting them sit open and undone around his hips before he kneeled on the bed.
The moment his hands were back on you again, running up your sides and coming to your chest, he didn’t seem shy or hesitant in the slightest, squeezing at one of your tits with no shame, running his thumb back and forth over your peaked nipple through the fabric of your shirt.
Letting out a small whimper, your hands came to shield yourself out of instinct, only to be met with a sudden and harsh resistance in the form of Erik’s free hand gripping your wrist and wrenching it away from yourself.
“Don’t try it.” he warned.
This was a version of Erik you hadn’t seen first hand, you’d always known him as sweet and caring towards you, but there were definitely times where you could see something behind his eyes when he looked at you.
You’d seen it in the bar when he glared, the darkness that overtook his entire being. It would have been a lie if you said it wasn’t a thrill.
As if it was bringing something out of you as well, you couldn’t stop the way you looked up at him, the puppy dog eyes seeming like a completely natural reflex as you couldn’t fight the whimper that came out of you when he gripped your wrist so hard it almost hurt.
There seemed to be something unspoken between the pair of you over those years of pretending you didn’t want each other, something extended beyond feelings and presented itself as more of just this feeling that neither of you could doubt, this understanding that when the pair of you came together, there was going to be flames.
The hand that wasn’t gripping your wrist continued to touch you, pinching your nipple between his index finger and thumb, twisting slightly just to look down at the way you whimpered, letting yourself surrender to the headspace completely.
As you tried to turn your body away, be just wrenched you back to face him even harder, his free hand coming to grab your face and force you to look up at him, squeezing your cheeks so hard your lips pressed together like a fish.
“You’re really gonna be like that?” he breathed with a soft laugh, like he didn’t take you seriously as tall, almost like your attempts to pull away from him were entirely in vain.
It’d had never been like this with old boyfriends, missionary where you’d laid there like a goldfish and let them finish up, or even when they’d pathetically beg you suck their dicks; No, there was something playing within you that wanted Erik fired up, like getting him annoyed was all part of the fun.
Trying to pull your wrist away from his grip, even if it was futile, you let out a small grumble, looking up at him in a way that more than put across the attitude you were purposely giving him, like you knew exactly what you were doing.
“Be like that if you want Princess, works for me.” he spoke lowly leaning in to look down at you in a way that just read as “you asked for this.”
Without another warning, Erik’s hand was disappearing up your skirt, his fingers starting to rub up and down your panties with little to no mercy or warning, your mouth opening to let out a sound only to be promptly stopped by Erik’s other hand clamping over your mouth.
His fingers were skilled, running along your fabric covered slit with a precision that was above what you even thought possible for a guy, like he knew exactly where to touch you in a way that immediately had you whining against his hand.
It didn’t take long for your panties to be pushed aside only to make room for his fingers to start gliding through your wetness, promptly soaking his hand as you tried to close your legs out of reflex, only to clamp down on either sides of him, using his body to keep you open for him.
“Fuck, you’re soaked.” he mused, a dry laugh leaving his lips as he looked down at you, once again giving you no warning as he pushed two fingers straight inside you, gifting you no patience on his part as he wasted no time pushing them inside you up to the knuckle.
Your muffled cry only served to egg him on further, the feeling of your hips trying to pull away from his fingers and your back arching spurring on a slightly cruel smirk across his features.
“You’re that fucking wound up just from my fingers inside you? Seriously?” his tone was mocking at best, leaving you only able to look up at him with eyes that were starting to grow misty as he fucked you with his fingers at a pace that almost hurt, but in the best way conceivable.
God, it was almost embarrassing how much your body reacted to him, the sounds you were making against his hand purely from his touch, you were acting like a cock hungry slut, but it seemed that it was exactly how Erik wanted you, especially when he ripped his fingers out of you out of nowhere with seemingly no warning, the pathetic sound you made at the absence that left you clenching around nothing.
He lifted his fingers up so that they were held right in your face, the sticky mess on his fingers glistening as he spread his fingers to show it off.
“Look at that..” he breathed, letting out an exhaled chuckle as he stared at it like he was almost in a trance, only to open his mouth and suck your mess off of his fingers with the most atrociously sloppy sound you’d ever heard, pulling them out of his mouth again and looking down at you. “Like fuckin’ honey.”
That image along was enough to have your whole body shivering, watching him slurp on his fingers, sucking your own essence off of them like it was the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted; where you legs had been attempting to close before hand, your own body began to betray you, your hips lifting off of the bed as you let out a desperate sound, chasing after his touch again.
Seeing your response to losing the feeling of him, Erik only seemed to find amusement from the way you were whimpering and trying to find any sort of relief, his solution being to bring his hand back down to your pussy, yet only letting his finger tips begin to ghost over your clit, hardly making any contact, nowhere near enough as far as you were concerned.
All you could do was let out sounds of protest, your hands desperately fighting to break free from where he was holding them down with only one hand, his strength and ability to overpower you being more than enough needed to keep you right where he wanted to.
“Whats wrong, princess..?” he cooed at you, mocking you as he kept his face close to yours, continuing his string of almost touching you as he waited to see how long it would take for you to break. “Something you want? You want me to touch you?”
With his hand still held over your mouth, it wasn’t exactly easy to verbalise your answer, but a whimper that came out sounding more like a rugged groan and the nodding of your head, all paired up with the desperation of your eyes that were blown out to the size of dinner plates, he seemed to understand the message clear enough.
Just as he’d done before, he gave you no warning when he plunged his fingers back inside you, fucking you with them with a starting pace that had your eye’s rolling back into your head, practically crying out into his hand the sudden jump from feeling barely anything to being heinously overstimulated, your brain was beginning to turn to mush, you were becoming putty in his fingers.
You’d always imagined it might be something like this to a degree, but fucking yourself with you fingers late and night and shutting your eyes pretending it was him was practically nothing when compared to what was happening right then and there, the knot in your stomach growing tighter and tighter as you felt yourself starting to go numb.
“You gonna cum?” he teased, “Gonna gush all over my fingers like a nasty little slut? Fuuuuck, look at you, you can’t even hear what im saying.”
He was correct of course, anything he was saying to you was coming out as white noise as you finally felt you body coming loose around him, pulsing around his fingers as you let out obscene muffled noises and felt your toes curling, swearing for a moment or two that you went blind on one eye.
You were still in a daze when his hand came off of your mouth, taking in a deep breath of air that you hadn’t even realised was being kept from you, silence except for the sound of your panting.
Numb to the world around you, you hardly even felt real for the first ten seconds of laying there, feeling a few soft kisses peppering your forehead accompanied by a hand on your cheek.
“Hey now, come back to me..” Erik’s soft voice rang out, a small laugh following after it, finally starting to come back down to reality to see him looking down at you like he thought that state he’d left you in was hilarious.
You couldn’t form words, but he seemed to realise your eyes were focusing back in on him, his thumb running along your cheek as he tilted his head.
“You okay?” he whispered, watching you let out a small hum and a nod, one of your shaky hands coming up to grip his shoulder, almost in an attempt to ground yourself.
When you gave him another nodded, the hand that was on your cheek proceeded to give it a soft encouraging pat, a smile remaing on Erik’s face as he sat back and gripped your hips.
“Can I fuck you princess? Is that what you want?”
His question had you biting your lip as you looked up at him, the way his hands rubbed the tops of thigh’s slowly and softly, his own little way of keeping you grounded and comforted, seeking out permission from you before he went any further, that was the Erik that had always taken care of you, even if from a respectful distance.
“Please..” was the first word you’d managed to get out, your voice slightly croaky but clear enough that he definitely understood, causing him to let out a low groan at just how pathetically you begged for it.
With the jeans that were already undone, it hadn’t taken him much effort to pull them down to his knees, his grey boxers leaving nothing to the imagination as you pushed yourself up on your elbows, your bottom lip being caught between your teeth as soon as you saw the length and size you were about to be working with.
The only way you could have been described in that moment was a bitch in heat, desperate and needy in a way that couldn’t be described in words.
Then as if you weren’t already cock hungry enough, even just from seeing the tattooed barb wire on his v-line, or the dark hair creepy out of the boxers and up towards his belly button; As he pulled himself out and lazily pumped himself, your mouth fell open, the whimper leaving your throat being so pathetic that you were almost ashamed.
Looking down at his own cock, Erik let out a throaty laugh, continuing to continued to slowly drag his hand up and down his shaft when he looked back up at you, realising what it was that had constituted the noise from you.
“You like it?” he teased, running his thumb over the top of the thick curved barbell, letting you stare at it for a few more seconds before he put a hand on your knee.
“You want it?” he asked, his hand gliding down to rest on your hip.
When you nodded, he smiled and lifted your hips, turning you over slowly so that your ass was up in the air, your cheek coming to rest snugly against the sheets as he placed his hand flat inbetween your shoulder blades to push your upper body down.
“That’s it, I’ve got you..” he reassured, his hand coming to glide over your ass cheek, admiring the view for a few sweet seconds, letting you enjoy the feeling of a soft touch against your skin, at least for a few seconds.
**THWACK**
You were lucky your face was in the sheets, otherwise the sound of you crying out would have been audible throughout the whole house, the sharp pain of Erik’s hand coming down to spank you barely even registering before he was sending another one down on your skin.
The kicking of your legs was futile, the whimpers leaving your throat seeming to produce little mercy from Erik as he let down one more harsh smack, just as you felt his tip starting to run up and down your entrance, the cold metal of his piercing making you jump.
“You gonna let me fuck this pussy? Huh?” he grunted, making a point to push just his tip inside you, barely even penetrating you to begin with. “Gonna let me fill it up with my cum? You gonna take it all?”
His words, along with the unbearable teasing, had you pushing your ass back against him, desperate for him to push himself deeper inside you, only for him to back away each time you tried to your dismay, a desperate whimper emerging from your throat each time.
“Pretty baby wants dick so bad..” he cooed, almost as if he genuinely felt sorry for you, but you both knew better, the more you were begging for him, the better it was.
Not as harshly as he had pushed his fingers inside you, Erik gripped your hips, pushing himself in at a fast enough speed that had you gasping, but didn’t hurt by any means, telling you that beneath the show he was putting on, he still was making sure not to hurt you, at least not in a way that you didn’t want him to.
Your gasp was quickly offset with a soft cry, your eyes squeezing shut as his cock invaded your insides, pushing through without resistance as your wetness let him glide inside fairly easily.
It was a little bit of a push before Erik finally sunk inside you completely, when his hips finally made contact with your ass, bottoming out with a deep groan that had him tipping his head back and shutting his eyes.
“Fuuuuck..” he groaned, you could feel the way his grip on your hips tightened, along with the way his cock twitched inside you; just as much as you could feel him fighting back his instinct to move, fighting back his desire to pound into you with no mercy until you were ready.
“Just..” he breathed “Tell me when I can start moving princess..”
The way he was able to switch back and forth between cruel and caring was just so painfully Erik, just as it always was with him, one minute he’d act like he was bothered by your very presence, then you’d give him those same puppy dog eyes and he’d be left unable to say no to you.
Turning your head and straining your neck to look back at him, your mouth hung open for a few moments as you let yourself finish getting used to the stretch, as well as the feeling of his piercing tickling right against that sweet spot inside you, every time he moved in the slightest it sent lighting through you, unable to hide your whimpers.
Opening your eyes back up, you gave him a nod, preparing yourself for what was no doubt going to be a brutal pace that he was about to set.
He started out slow, giving you a chance to make sure he wasn’t hurting you, gradually gathering up speed which only made your moans grow louder, giving you no choice but you let your face fall back against the sheets to make sure it was muffled, eventually he was pistoning inside you, a concentrated rhythm being followed as he gripped your hips so tightly it stung.
Risking a look back, you turned your head only to be greeted by the sight of Erik thrusting into you, staring down at the sight of himself coming in and out of you as his mouth hung open, low groans and grunts leaving his chest.
As if he had felt your eyes on him, Erik looked up, meeting your gaze which only seemed to stir him further, biting his lip as he leaned forward and reached to grab a fistful of your hair, forcing you to arch your back and stare up at the wall, letting him fuck you so hard no sound was even coming out of you anymore, just leaving your mouth hanging open and your eyes rolling into the back of your skull.
“Thaaaats it.. fucking take it like a dirty fucking cockslut…” his words sounded just as desperate as you had previously, breathed out and slightly higher pitched in a way that told you he was feeling it all just as much as you were. “Fuck, fuck, wanted to have you like this for so long… wanted you on my bed spread out just like this..”
Memories of touching yourself just to the very idea of something like this happening came flooding in, laying there in your bed back at home and closing your eyes and picturing Erik in your head, wondering if he ever thought about you in the way you thought about him.
Now here you were getting confirmation that he’d wanted you for just as long as you’d wanted him, years of frustration and pining finally being thrown out of the window as you were actually there, bent over for him and letting him fuck you like a whore, pent up urges years in the making fuelling the way he jack hammered into you.
“Shit.. turn over..” he grunted, pulling out of you and gripping your shoulder in his hand to flip you onto your back before you could even compute what he was asking you. “Need to see those eyes..”
Letting Erik manhandle you into whatever position he wanted, you couldn’t stop yourself from lifting your head to get a glimpse of him lining himself back up, unable to stop your legs from shivering and your mouth falling open with a whine when you pushed his cock back inside you.
Bringing you gaze back up to where he was kneeling above you, you stared into each others eyes, making a point to put on those same puppy dog eyes that got him every time, feeling him begin to fuck you noticeably harder when you looked up at him.
“Fuck.. yes.. look at me..” he groaned, his hands coming to rest on the backs of your knees, pushing to where your knees were almost touching your shoulders, folding you in a way that allowed for a whole new angle, unable to hide the way your face contorted and your brows turned upwards.
Your head tipped back, soft cries being the only sound you were capable of making anymore, so completely and totally fucked out to the point that you could hardly even form any proper thoughts.
A hand came to rest on your cheek, your head coming forward and your eyes opening again to see Erik looking right in the verge himself just as you were, his eyes staring down at you intensely as he seemed to be chasing your gaze.
“Please don’t stop looking at me..” he begged, the dominant nature he had taken on previously becoming replaced by the unbearable urge to cum, chasing his release desperately.
The way you were gripping at each other, your hands coming up to rest on either side of his face, you silence each other in the form of a kiss, Erik’s moans into your mouth seeming to be exactly what was needed to push you over the edge, wrapping your arms around his neck as you cried out, tucking your face in his neck as you began to pulse, soaking his dick and squeezing it tightly in a way that had his thrusts turning shallow, barely even pulling out of you before he was pushing back in.
Your hand found its way to the back of his head, tangling your fingers into the tufts of dark hair and gripping whatever you could as you practically sobbed against his shoulder, your legs shaking as your pussy squeezed him.
Pulling on his hair and cumming around his cock proved to be exactly what was needed to push Erik over the edge he’d been chasing, feeling his thrusts stiffen and stop and start randomly as he painted your walls with cum, starting to leak out of you already.
His moans we’re high pitched, his hips going from ramming against your own to softly and slowly rolling deeply, riding out his orgasm bit by bit as you felt his body starting to give way, letting him collapse on top of you and into your arms.
Each time his hips moved again the slightest bit, you whimpered, gripping his hair again and squeezing his hips with your legs, still highly sensitive from the way he’d been mercilessly fucking you only moments ago.
You had no idea how long you both laid there on his bed, letting his thick cum leak out of you as he sat inside you, resting his forehead on your chest and panting deeply, trying to come down from his high before you both felt even semi conscious again.
When it finally felt real again, like you had floated back down into your physical bodies once again, you looked at Erik and couldn’t fight back the smile that made its way onto your features, apparently contagious as Erik let out a soft laugh and leaned forward to capture your lips in a soft kiss, the sudden movement making you whimper against his lips that had him pulling back suddenly.
“Shit, sorry.” he wheezed, pushing his weight off of you and slowly pulling his now soft dick out of you with a sharp hiss through his teeth.
Pulling his grey boxers back over his hips, he moved back down to lay next to you on his back, turning his head to look over at you and reaching out to slowly pull you against him, letting you rest your head on his chest.
“I’ve got you..” he whispered, letting you lay there and recover slowly but surely, letting your eyes open and close softly as the exhaustion finally started to claim you.
When you shut your eyes, you didn’t even realise you’d fallen asleep until you woke up to a hand on your face, having now been tucked into the covers while Erik got up and fetched a washcloth from the bathroom.
“Shh..shh, it’s okay, it’s just me..” he whispered when you’d fussed softly, running his thumb along your cheek and letting you open your eyes slowly to see him standing there.
You let him clean you off softly, feeling him take care to be as gentle as he could before discarding the cloth and pulling a pair of his own sweat pants and shirt over you while you faded in and out of consciousness.
Finally as he crawled back into bed with you, you didn’t hesitate to roll back into his arms, feeling them wrap around you as a kiss was laid on the top of your head.
“You have no idea how long i’ve been waiting to do that..” he whispered against your temple as you clung to his body heat, letting him trace little shapes along your back with his finger tips.
“Just wish you hadn’t waited as long as you did..” you whispered back, a soft exhale of a laugh leaving him.
“Good things come to those who wait?” he offered up, only receiving a soft smack against his arm from you which only made him laugh more.
“Yeah, okay, I deserved that one.” he wheezed as he just pulled you closer against him, taking a deep inhale of your scent and exhaling with a satisfied hum.
“Hope you know that now that i’ve got you, i’m never letting you go.” his last words to you before you both started to fall asleep, snoring softly in each others arms in his bed, something you’d both waited almost four years to do, finally happening here and now.
#erik campbell x reader#erik campbell smut#erik campbell final destination#erik campbell#erik campbell fangirls rise up#richard harmon#richard harmon x reader#richard harmon smut#final destination bloodlines#final destination#erik final destination#richard harmon final destination#final destination 6
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Three Strikes, We're Out
prompt: paige and azzi never meant to be a secret. it took subtle changes for the teammates to catch up. wc: 1.6k an: hii!! i know i just posted, but i saw a tiktok and idk i was inspired. please please pleASE send me prompts or ideas i need some ahhh also please ignore any mistakes - i'm too tired to edit ahhh
neither paige nor azzi meant to keep their relationship a secret. honestly. well, partially. it was meant to be private not secret from fans, but then staying quiet about it became too easy. their love was never the loud type anyway. they showed love in small interactions but never seemed to find the words to tell their closest people. it was easy that way. not that they would ever lie if anyone asked, but no one did.
to be fair, their teammates never thought to question them. anyone with eyes could recognize that paige looked at azzi like she hung the moon. and azzi would occasionally shut down and only let paige in to work through it. in the team’s eyes, this was simply the product of years of friendship long before they had even heard of their other teammates.
the shifts came in paige’s final year at uconn. they were small, but the team was observant.
“paige” azzi huffs out as she falls onto a bench after extra sprints, “can you please tie my shoe? i am going to pass out if i have to bend over.” azzi explains leaning back her head and throwing an arm over her eyes.
paige had been a few feet in front of her hunched over and not appearing to be doing much better. this had been the first set of sprints after a summer of strength training and basketball practices. everyone was struggling with conditioning.
kk and ice had snorted, waiting for even paige to laugh in azzi’s face. this seems to be the annual routine on the first day of conditioning. however, the routine snapped when paige nodded her head in azzi’s direction and bent down in front of her to tie her shoe laces.
paige takes her time and gently laces it up and looks up and smiles at azzi, who has finally leaned forward with her elbows on her knees. their faces were only inches apart and it seemed so intimate. as paige finishes she wraps her hand around azzi’s calf without breaking eye contact.
“thank you,” azzi whispers with her eyes never leaving paige’s.
“anything for you, pretty girl,” paige whispers in return with a gentle squeeze to azzi’s calf before standing up to walk towards her water. azzi’s eyes follow paige’s retreating figure with a soft smile.
“i know y’all playin’ right now,” ice offers out while sarah simply looks at the two and shakes her head.
“that was too whipped even for you guys,” jana pipes in.
to their credit, azzi and paige had the decency to look somewhat embarrassed before standing up and returning to the court. everyone else just shook their heads and tried to justify their mental gymnastics being used to explain the behavior. conditioning resumed and everyone quickly became too focused to think of the interaction any longer.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
the next incident happened on media day. the music had been flowing as the team sat around an oversized makeup room while people fluttered in and out taking care of various people’s make up, hair, and any other micro detail that the camera could pick up on.
someone had a speaker set up blaring 30 for 30. the upperclassmen were sitting around and goofing off waiting for their turns to be called. some had been filming tiktoks and others just sat and relaxed in the few moments of silence. seeing each other all done up like this was always a little weird.
in a small group of players, paige had pulled azzi forward with her hand gently on azzi’s jaw. paige somehow had acquired the lip gloss that the make up team had been using. she took it upon herself to reapply it for azzi.
now, it wasn’t this act itself that made the team pause and really look at the two. it was how their faces were only a few inches apart and they were smiling softly at each other. it was how azzi was humming to the music with her hands set gently on paige’s hips. it was when paige paused her work to smile for azzi.
“only want your love if it’s solid” paige mouths to the lyrics with a smile. azzi just grins in return through the next line of the song before catching up.
“that’s the way i like it” she mouths in return and paige grins before pulling back as the two return to a respectable distance.
they turn back to their team and their smiles quickly turn to look sheepish. various people were sitting around staring at them. some with slack jaws and more theatrics than others. kk looked like she just witnessed the resurrection of jesus.
“uhm, so what was that?” kk hurries out with a point in their direction. she pointed more at paige knowing azzi was more likely to shut her out.
“what do you mean?” paige responds with a shrug pulling her phone out of her pocket.
“girl boo, you know what i am talking about. don’t even play” kk responds and azzi smiles and stands up as her name is called from the media team.
“nope. no idea what you are talking about,” paige then pushes herself up, “i’m going to go do my annual media day tiktok.”
as paige left the rest of the team groaned and then simply sighed and returned to their earlier activities. they knew they weren’t getting any answers and decided that pushing it was not worth it.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
the final straw came in a moment that was relatively subtle compared to the previous two. it came during a team hangout at the dorms. kk, sarah, and jana had found someone’s uno cards and began the most unseriously intense game. ice and aubrey were arguing over a tiktok. caroline and ayanna were raiding the cabinets for food.
paige had been sitting on the couch scrolling through tiktok. azzi had been in her room finishing up an assignment, but finally approached the chaos with a tired smile. her eyes scanned the room before landing on paige and moving in that direction as if with a gravitational pull.
paige looked up and raised her arm for azzi to settle into her side. azzi leaned into paige’s side with her head resting on paige’s shoulder. her body was pressed up against paige’s and at the proximity of the older girl, she simply melts.
“hey, beautiful” paige smiles down, “did you finish your work?”
“mm, i think so,” azzi mumbles sleepily letting her eyes flutter shut and somehow managing to snuggle closer into paige’s side.
“you’re clingy” paige jokes in a whisper down to azzi who just sighs.
“‘m sleepy and you’re soft” azzi murmurs and paige holds her tighter, leaning her mouth down to azzi’s head.
“just for you” she presses a kiss into azzi’s head and then looks back up realizing the room had gone silent. all eyes were pointed in their direction with everyone seemingly paused in the middle of their actions.
“...yes?” paige offers out after a moment of staring and for a moment you could hear a pin drop.
“you guys do realize you’re in love right” kk blurts out stunned in which paige and azzi both chuckle softly.
“i mean after two years together i would hope so,” azzi says nonchalantly while paige smiles down at her.
“pause” kk stands up and jana is quick to follow, “two years together? you’re lying!” kk is gesturing wildly while the rest of their team stands in shock.
“what do you mean two years together?” ice rushes out and paige looks back at them with a smile.
“i think we are past the half year point, so it actually might be closer to three” paige smirks, “but yeah, we have been dating for that long.”
“and why didn’t we know” ayanna groans out and aubrey starts laughing from somewhere to the side.
“you never asked” paige shrugs and azzi opens her eyes to look around with a smile.
“why would we think to ask? we had trust that our teammates–who are like family, mind you–would tell us something this wild” kk sputters out.
“guess we were thinking a little differently,” azzi adds, sitting up but remaining in paige’s arms. sarah simply shakes her head.
“i wish i could say i didn’t believe this” caroline offers.
“wait, who had that bet going” sarah pipes up and ice looks in her direction.
“damn it!” ice groans out, falling back into the chair.
“what bet?” azzi frowns as everyone starts getting louder.
“yes!!” caroline shouts out and runs over to hug sarah dramatically, “i completely forgot!”
“there was a bet going on when you guys would stop just looking at each other and actually do something about it, and carol was the only one who had faith in you guys getting together before paige graduates” aubrey laughs and paige feels her phone vibrate as she was sure someone was notifying the team chat.
“nah, you guys are crazy for that” paige laughs sitting forward.
“please tell me we won’t have to deal with you guys being all couple-y and gross now” jana groans, falling back dramatically.
azzi shrugs, “i mean we have been together and couple-y for two years without you guys noticing.”
“hey, but now, i can be a little louder and prouder to show off my girl” paige says with a smirk as she wraps her arms around azzi’s waist and presses her face into azzi’s neck.
“nope, absolutely not” ayanna mumbles while everyone else freaks out.
paige lifts her head and smiles at azzi before leaning in to press her lips to her girlfriend’s. the reactions become far louder and dramatic and the two can only smirk as they rest their foreheads against each others’.
“guess, everyone knows now” azzi mumbles, eyes drifting to paige’s lips before settling back on her eyes.
“good” paige whispers and leans in, pressing another kiss. the room around them was loud, but this? this was all them.
feedback would be appreciated!! tysm <3
-- tea ★’*•.¸♡
#pazzi fic#paige bueckers fic#azzi fudd fic#uconn wbb fic#pazzi fics#tea writing femme fics#paige x azzi#wcbb fic
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Anything For Ellie : Part Three
Spencer Reid x Single Mom!Reader
Summary: Spencer is finally taking you out on a date and you discover just how lovely he can be with you — in public and behind closed doors.
Category: Fluff, Smut
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, themes of spencer taking reader out on a date, spencer being down bad for reader, in a world of boys he’s a gentleman, reader being shy, takes place after the prison arc, mentions of season 12, kissing smut warnings: she’s a dirty girl- cunnilingus, minor dirty talk, slight nipple play, protected sex, p in v, fingering, spencer’s hung, praise kink go brrr, lowkey rough fucking, possession kink if you squint, spencer calls reader ‘angel’
Author’s Note: here is the longgggggggggggg awaited part three to anything for ellie!! i’m so sorry it’s taken me this long ahhhh but here it is and i hope it was worth the wait!! i lowkey got writers block with this so that’s why it took so long but i hope never to take so long again but yk life be getting in the way lol anyways please enjoy this! and ofc i had to post this on matthew’s birthday hehehe
part one / part two
It was official, you were going on a date with Spencer Reid. You’d sat with Ellie in front of your mirror as she applied your lip gloss on your face. Surprisingly, she was pretty good at makeup. That probably had to do with her favorite auntie’s doing.
You’d told Ellie she’d be staying with Penelope for a few hours while you and Spencer were hanging out. You didn’t exactly want Ellie to know about your date for good reason. You didn’t want her getting her hopes up about Spencer being more involved in their lives but it seemed as if he already was — getting her hopes up, that was.
“All done!” Ellie announces and you take a look in the mirror. “Great job, El! Where’s you learn to do makeup?” Ellie smiles to herself, “Auntie Penelope taught me.” Knew it.
You shake your head at your daughter and look into the mirror. Spencer told you to dress as nice as you wanted because he wanted to take you to a fancy Thai restaurant. So, you dressed in red, your best color — according to Penelope, she’d helped you with shopping for your date since you haven’t been on a date in years.
You’d pulled out all the stops, getting your hair done, doing your makeup, even dressing in expensively ridiculously high heels. It’d been a while since you were asked on a date, damn it, might as well look as good as you wanted. There is a knock on the doorframe and both you and Ellie turn around and see that it’s Penelope.
“He’s here!” Penelope beams and Ellie cheers as she jumps around. You stand up from your seat and look over at Penelope as you flatten out your dress with your palms. “How do I look?”
“Oh, you look amazing, pretty girl!” Penelope compliments and you smile at the woman as she grabs Ellie’s hand. “Now, Ellie, let’s go say hi to Spencer so your mom can make a grand entrance!”
Penelope and Ellie leave you, shutting your door behind them and you take a deep breath, staring at yourself in the full length mirror in your bedroom.
You’re completely stunned this is happening. You’re going on a date with Spencer freaking Reid. This has been something you thought about since you met him. You never thought it’d come true. Back then, these were just hopes and dreams. But now, this was reality. You wanted to pinch yourself because you had to have been dreaming, right?
You hear the chattering out in the living room and Penelope’s signal for you to come out. You nearly break your ankle as you walk down the hallway and Spencer is standing there, suit and all with a bouquet of roses in hand. When he sees you, it’s like time stops. You are his only focus of attention. And his breath is completely taken away as his eyes subtly rake over your figure in that dress.
“Wow…” He exhaled. “You look…” Spencer pauses, blinking a few times like he needs a moment. Was he really that focused on you, you wonder. “You look beautiful.”
You take in his suit, that sexy suit he looks oh, so good in. He’d matched your dress with a red cardigan underneath his blazer. How does he not sweat in that? Guess he was cold-blooded. “You don’t look too bad yourself, doc.” You smile.
You begin to walk over to him, your heel almost taking your ankle out again and you shake your head. “Okay, you know what?” You shake your ankles out of the heels and find your chucks near the couch and sit on the couch to quickly slip those on. “Now, I feel like I can walk without breaking something.”
Spencer chuckles as you make your way towards him without anything in your way, this time. “Hi.” You breathe, staring into his eyes and he stares into yours with a crooked smile — “Hi.” He says softly and you look at his hands, causing him to look down to see what you were looking at and then exclaimed — “Oh! These—These are for you. I remembered you said you liked roses, as cliché as they are.”
You’d remember the conversation as well, he’d been over for a movie night since Ellie practically begged him to come and she’d also chosen the movie. She’d chosen Beauty and the Beast and the topic of flowers had come up. Spencer had given Ellie a cool fact about wilted roses and that was where you chimed in and said that roses had been your favorite flower, even if they were a cliché.
You grab the flowers and smile at him, “Thank you, Spencer. These are lovely.” You take a whiff of them and he watches as you do so. He loves that you can be enraptured by the smell of roses.
“Well, we better get going. Our reservations are at 7:30. And if we get there in—” Spencer checks his watch. “Approximately nine minutes and twelve seconds, we can dodge traffic.”
You kneel down to your daughter’s level, “Be good for Penelope, okay, sweet pea?” You ask and Ellie beams, “Okay, Mommy!”
“Don’t worry about anything here,” Penelope chimes in, grabbing Ellie by the shoulders. “I’ve got it all taken care of. You guys just go and have all the fun in the world!”
Penelope grabs your arm gently as she pulls you closer to her — “And I am very available to stay the night if you need me to.” She grins with a wink and you flush at that sentence alone at the insinuation.
You bid your goodbyes to Penelope and Ellie and head on out with Spencer. He’d been a gentleman, getting you flowers, opening the car door for you, pulling out your seat at the table once you got there.
“I-I don’t drink, but I’d be happy to buy you a glass of wine if you’d like.” Spencer offered and you immediately shook your head. “Oh, I’m okay, thank you.”
You sat there and every so often made small talk with him, discussing anything and everything since he’d always had a fun fact in his back pocket. You’d enjoy those fun facts every time, never interrupted him, never disregarded him, just listened and asked questions every so often.
He’d talked about the origins of the restaurant you two were currently at when you wondered something in the back of your mind. And you felt the need to share it with him, because you wondered if maybe he’d thought about it as well.
“Spencer?” You run the rim of your glass with a finger.
“Yes?”
“I-I guess I’m just… a little curious,” You began, with a hitch in your breath. “How long did you feel—?” You pause, looking at his intriguing eyes and they’re burning into your soul, listening intently and you’re quick to shy away once you realize the attention’s all on you. “Never mind.”
“No, no, carry on. What were you gonna say?” Spencer sits forward and you shake your head, dismissing the topic. “No, no, it’s silly.” You say. Spencer grabs your hand across the table as he looks into your eyes and says — “Nothing you say is silly.”
You take a sharp breath and you break out of your shell, staring down into your lap as you think what you were about to say before you shied away. “How long… did you like me before you… asked me on a date? I guess I’m just curious.”
Spencer thinks on it for a moment before quickly responding. “It was the first time we met, and you had come to my door to ask if I had any juice.” You nod as you remember, “Oh, yes! Juice is the only thing Ellie will drink when she’s sick.”
“And you’d run, so you asked me. And I remembered your hair, sticking out, wearing a pastel pink robe and mismatched socks. And from that moment forward, I guess, I was hooked, so to speak.” You smile at the memory and lean forward, “Can I let you know on a secret?”
Spencer leans forward to you and you smile at the closeness between you two — “That was the day I knew, too.” Spencer smiles as he looks down and he too has grown shy and somehow you’ve grown more confident.
After you two have ate, Spencer pays for the check — you’d tried to split it but found out he prepaid for the meal before you two even got to the restaurant— and you two get back into the car, him opening the car door for you again had you weak in the knees.
“I do have one more question, Spencer.” You suddenly speak, turning your body towards him in the car. “What’s up?” Spencer asks, as he keeps his hands steady on the wheel and his eyes on the road.
“What made you finally ask me out? I mean, you had to have thought about it before you asked me, right?” You’d asked and for a brief moment, he turns to you before keeping his eyes back on the road. He doesn’t want to, but of course, safety first, he guesses.
Spencer bites the inside of his cheek, he’d debated on telling you right then and there. But he didn’t know how you’d take him being framed for a crime he didn’t even commit and how the reason he was gone for a few months wasn’t because of his job but because he was at the Milburn Correctional Facility because he was wrongfully convicted of murdering Nadie Ramos in Mexico. He couldn’t tell you that. What if you didn’t trust him anymore? What if you wanted to call the whole thing off? What if you didn’t trust him around Ellie anymore? There were so many reasons why he didn’t — why he couldn’t — tell you. He couldn’t risk losing you when he just got you back.
“Something told me it was finally time,” Spencer opts, which wasn’t exactly far from the truth. After being in prison for as long he was, he thought about you everyday. He wondered how you were, how Ellie was doing, if you’d thought about him, too. You were the only thing that kept him going in that godforsaken place. “I was, uh, gone for a little bit, as you well know.” He says and you nod at that. “I guess I just realized it was now or never.”
“Right,” You nod. “Now or never.” You look outside the window and Spencer thinks to himself. If he could keep this secret forever, he would. It’s best if he does. He can’t screw up what you two already have going on.
After it’s all said and done, you two walk back into your shared unit, stopping in front of your door— but walking slowly so as to keep prolonging your time with each other. Eventually, you stop short and sigh, “Well, this is me.”
Spencer nods as he bites his lip and scrunches up his nose and his eyes gleam at you as you smile at him — “I had a really great time tonight. It’s been a while since I had a date.”
“Same here,” Spencer nods. “But good, I’m glad.” You both stare at each other for the longest of times and just as you’re about to put a hand on the door, he speaks.
“Y/n,” He begins.
“Yes?” You ask, eagerly hoping he’s about to ask the one thing you’ve been wanting to hear for most of the night.
“Can I… Can I kiss you?” Spencer asks and you smile at him as you look him up and down, gazing at his perfect bodice in front of you. He’s bulked up since the last you saw him, you notice. You look back up at him and his gaze is solely on you. It never moved from you. “I never thought you’d ask.” You say.
And Spencer leans forward, hands placed to your cheeks as he pulls you forward and kisses you, so gently, so lovingly. Holding you like you’re gonna break apart in his hands, soft like your sand weaving between his palms, waiting to wilt away in a summer breeze.
You hold him close to you, not wanting to waste a moment of this, with his lips on yours— kissing him like you mean it and you’re holding him like you’re gonna lose him. Finally, you both back up and you look at each other, lips swollen and parted.
It’s as if you can read the other’s mind because in that moment, you have no idea if it’s you or him, but you find yourself straying towards his apartment door and finding refuge there as he quickly inserts his key into the lock and opens the door and he’s just as quick to shut it as he pushes you against it, hand under your head to make sure you weren’t bumping into the door too hard as you rake your lips from his to his neck and his collarbone as you even trying to unbutton his shirt.
He hikes your leg up over his hip, hand trailing up your thigh as he pulls you toward him and hikes you up as you lay your lips everywhere. He carries you to his bedroom, where he gently lays you down and cowers over you with a smirk and kisses you so lovingly.
“Unzip me?” You ask, sitting up a bit and Spencer shakes his head— “Not yet.”
You furrow your brows and Spencer pushes you back down softly and he bows his head down to your thighs, fingers lacing towards the waistband of your tights and pulling them down slowly. “I want to at least get a chance to taste you while you’re wearing this dress for me. God, I wanted to ravage you in this the minute I saw you.” He confessed and your heat throbbed as his sultry tone and you wiggle the rest of the way out of your tights so they’re easier for him to take off.
Spencer flings them somewhere in the room as you bunch your dress up higher and spread your legs for him. He traces his tongue down your thigh and you clench around nothing as the warmth of his tongue sends shivers down your spine.
He blows a hot breath into your core before moving closer and laying a kissing on your pussy and that’s when you pull him closer to your wet heat and he dives between your folds. You feel his tongue circle on your clit, slurping everything you had for him and his moans vibrating in your walls as he sucks on your clit, making you grip onto the sheets and his hair as you arch your back off the mattress as he gets you to the brink of your orgasm.
The coil breaks and your clit throbs under his touch and he looks at you, eyes blown with a mix of lust and love. You wove your fingers through his hair to get a clear look at him and he smiles warmly at you and you return.
Your hand grazes down to the collar of his shirt and you pull him up to you, placing a soft kiss on his lips. You taste your essence as he glides his tongue through the crevice of your mouth and it’s dizzying, heart beating faster than normal. He’s quick to take notice of that.
“If you want to stop here, that’s okay.” He tells you and you smile at him endearingly. He’d always want you to feel safe, no matter what. And he’d always make sure you’d have total control of the situation. You were sure of it.
“Not a chance I want to stop.” You smirk, pulling him back to your mouth as you move your knee towards his crotch, nudging his bulge aching in his slacks and he takes to moaning in your mouth.
His moaning nearly turns into a whine until he grabs your hands, holding both of them above your head and you swear you’re on the verge of a heart attack with how delicious he looks above you.
Spencer leans down, leaving kisses on your neck and most likely hickeys as you feel his tongue trace the column of your neck. He stops, looking at you. You think he’s looking just because he wants to but he’s looking to make sure you’re enjoying this just as much as he is.
You place a hand on his face, stubble scratching the palm of your hand. Your thumb traces his bottom lip as you stare into his eyes, full of wonder and what you were thinking at that very moment. You never noticed just how golden his eyes were on the inside.
He was so ethereal. He was infinite. One of a kind. The one man you held dear to your heart. You just wanted to bottle up this emotion you had for him and keep it locked away for you and yourself only.
Spencer is the first one to move as he sits up on his knees and begins to unbutton his dress shirt and you take this moment to try and help him unbutton his shirt, starting from the bottom as he starts from the tops and meeting halfway as you finally get the shirt off of him, revealing a white tank, that you weren’t sure you’d ever seen him rock before but you could get used to the sight anyhow.
You go to take the shirt off but he grabs your hands to stop you. “If you don’t mind, I’d… I’d like to keep it on. If that’s okay?” Spencer’s eyes are practically pleading with you and of course, you’d never want him to do anything he didn’t want to do. “Of course.” You nod.
You wonder what his big secret is. A third nipple? A weird birthmark in the shape of a foot you might make fun of? No belly button? The possibilities were endless. But you didn’t have much time to dwell on it when he pulled you close to him and began to unzip your dress with your body flush against his.
He pulls the sleeves of the dress, revealing the fact that you decided not to wear a bra underneath your dress. Spencer looks up at you with an amused smirk on his face. “A bra would’ve just ruined the dress.” You shrug and Spencer shrugs right along with you, “Oh, I’m not complaining.” He leans forward, kissing your nipple before fully suctioning on it like it’s his lifeline.
It seemed that the man you went out with had some kind of oral fixation. Spencer lets go with a pop as he looks up at you, “Did you know that it’s possible for women to experience an orgasm solely from nipple stimulation? It’s not as common as achieving orgasm through direct genital stimulation but some women may find that focused nipple play can lead to a full-blown climax.” You look at him with a surprised look but somehow even more aroused at the fact that he just knows that? You knew he was smart but damn, using his facts while having sex with you? A whole type of rush in itself.
You stop yourself from rocking against him and pull him back to face you. “Maybe we can test that theory another time,” You tell him. “I need you inside of me.”
Spencer nods and stands up, reaching into the desk next to his bed and pulls out a box of condoms and you furrow your brows at him with amusement. Spencer takes notice of this. “Luke-Luke said I should… be prepared.” He admits, shyly and you smile at this.
Spencer removes his slacks, as well as his boxers and sits down on the bed as you remove the rest of the dress off your body and toss it on the ground as Spencer rolls the condom onto his cock.
He turns towards you, staring at you hungrily and hovers over your body, like you’re prey, ready to be slaughtered. And by God, you’d let him eat you any day. Spencer probes a finger towards your entrance and you gasp at the feeling. “God, you’re so wet.” He comments, moving his finger deeper inside of you, gently moving it back and forth. You grab onto his taut bicep and relish in the feeling of this. He’s not even in you yet and he’s making you feel things you never thought you’d feel again.
This continues for a minute more but you’re tired of the teasing. “Spencer…” You pout and he chuckles, “Alright, angel girl. I’ll give you what you want.” Spencer steadies himself on top of you and that’s when you get a good look at him.
Spencer’s… huge, to say the least. Thick in girth and in length, you’d say he had to have been at least eight inches. You’d always imagined he was packing, but Jesus. Needless to say, you’d been intimidated by Spencer’s dick. You’d had big before, but never big like Spencer.
You gulp and Spencer, like he has been all night, noticed your behavior once more. “What’s wrong?” He asks and you look up at him with wide eyes. “Nothing, it’s just… will it fit?” You wonder and Spencer looks back down in between you two and says — “I’ll go slow. Tell me if you need me to stop at all and I will, okay?” You nod at his words.
With that, Spencer’s tip captures your hole and he plugs the tip in. He sticks a few inches in and you moan, grabbing Spencer’s bicep again as he does everything he can not to cum here and now. “God… you’re so tight.” He groans and you reveal, “It’s been a while.”
“I’m gonna try to move, okay?” Spencer moves a piece of hair away from your face as he leans close to your face. “You let me know at all if you need me to stop.” You nod at him and he sticks more of himself inside of you, peppering your face with kisses and words of affirmation.
“You’re so perfect.”
“So good for me.”
“God, you’re so beautiful.”
Those are just the few testaments he showers you with. It’s a thin line between pain and pleasure but pleasure overtakes pain and he moves within you, hips grinding against yours as you two fit together like a piece of a puzzle.
“Can you… Can you go faster?” You ask him and he looks down at you, “You want me to go faster?” He repeats and you nod, “Please, please.” You beg.
He’s animalistic in his next movements and holds your hands above your head and drives his hips harder into you and you nearly shriek at how good it feels. The bed creaks as he whispers in your ear about how good you’re doing for him, how he’s waited so long for this, how beautiful you are. You’re too far gone to hear any of it because he’s absolutely railing you right now.
You rock your own body against his and he places kisses on your collarbone and mutters against your skin — “Do you want to cum, angel?” He asks and you gasp, “Please, please!” You don’t know what you’re begging for, at this point. He’s willing to give you everything.
“Then say you’re mine. Say you’re mine and you can cum. Can you do that, angel, please?”
His own tone makes it sounds like he’s begging, which he is. He’d worried he’d regret it later, damaging you was the last thing he wanted to do.
“I’m— I’m yours. Forever yours.” You breathe.
“Then, cum. You can do it, angel.”
And you see white as your pussy shudders against his cock and he gasps and even lets out a low whimper at the feeling of you clenching tightly around him. You soon feel the warmth of him cumming inside of the condom inside of you. He even has to cover your mouth with his hand so your moans and shouts don’t reverberate in the walls.
Eventually, he collapses against your body, and you both pant and take breaths to calm down after your sexual encounter. Spencer lifts his head up and then looks at you, with the same love and adoration he held so dearly at the beginning of your date. You wonder how lucky you are, how much love he truly has for you, if this is all a dream. You’ve fallen for him. And you’ve fallen for him, hard.
“Hi.” You find that your voice is hoarse as you speak to him. “Hi.” He says back, lifting himself off of you and landing next to you on the bed so as not to smother any further.
Spencer pulls your body close to his and holds you against him and you hold him tightly, not wanting to let go, if it was the last thing you did. He holds you and you feel a kiss on the top of your head and mutters against your head — “Are you okay?” He asks.
You smile, moving your head to look up at him — “I’m perfect.” He grazes his eyes from your eyes to your lips and before you know it, you both lean in for a kiss.
You stay there like that, for the rest of the night. At least, after he cleans the both of you off and he discards the condom. And he later readjusts his body to lay against yours, head resting on your chest as you play with his hair and you smile to yourself. You still can’t believe it. You’ve fallen so hard for him. If he breaks your heart, you’d be done for. He’s everything you want and more.
As you stay there, you lean over to grab your phone and find a text message from Penelope.
Penelope💘: I take it by his late it is, you’re staying over? 😉🥰🫣
You shake your head as you send a reply back.
You: Tell Ellie I love her and that I’ll be home tomorrow morning.
Penelope💘: What? No details????
You: I don’t kiss and tell, Penelope 🙈
Penelope💘: So kissing was involved!!!
You roll your eyes as you set your phone back down and ruffle Spencer’s hair softly. This was the most peaceful you’ve seen him. You were sure he was asleep by now.
And in this moment in time, you prayed for more nights like this. In his bed, with his love and with his heart in your hands. He’d make you the happiest person in the world if you’d let him.
And maybe you might just let him.
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Steph, airport, "How did you forget your boots?" (possibly a teen!r and it's not a prank teen!r actually forgot her boots, maybe for Matildas camp?)
Love your writing so much! How you manage to make full blurbs from these always amazes me your honestly a magician.
not a prank II s.catley x matildas
"kyra!" you huffed, the older girls leg shooting out and tripping you, your body almost hitting the ground before caitlin hurried to grab your backpack and haul you to your feet.
"steph she won't leave me alone!" you yelled out for the other girl who simply sighed, dropping her sunglasses over her eyes and pretending as if she didn't hear you.
"steph! did you hear me? steph!" you called again as your national captain quickened her steps in response, kyra pulling faces at you as you tried to lunge for her and caitlin held you back.
"the more you rise to her, the more she's gonna go at you. we've been over this." caitlin chuckled, slinging an arm over your shoulder as kyra turned her attention to charli, jumping on her back.
"easy for you to say. you'll meet up with macca and lani and leave me all alone for kyra to mess with me!" you huffed grumpily, having lost the rock paper scissors that lead you to being sat beside the brunette who was supposedly three years older than you, not that you'd know it with the way she acted.
"nah. she's got a whole team of people to annoy, you'll be fine egg." caitin tugged your beanie down over your head as you shoved her away from you. "i told you to stop calling me that, all of you." you grumbled, a baby photo of yourself with no hair posted by your mum for your birthday leaving you with the nickname.
"well, thats not gonna happen." caitlin grinned, grabbing your backpack for you and loading it into the back of the car, the driver sending you a friendly smile as you scrambled inside, eagerly dropping yourself next to steph.
"you ignored me. you're supposed to look after me, you're my cousin!" you sharply poked the older girl in the ribs who hissed and smacked your hand away. "i thought you didn't want to be babied? you made that explicitly clear at christmas." steph pushed her sunglasses onto her head as the other girls boarded the van and took their seats.
"ah! leave her alone." stephs arm darted out to push away kyras hand which tried to tug your beanie off, quickly pushing herself up and out of her seat to again ward off the midfielders sticky hand that tried to tug at hayleys hair next who was seated behind you.
"thats not babying." you pointed out once kyra sat down and stephs attention returned to you. "well you just have such a widdle baby face, and such chubby cheeks!" steph cooed, pinching your face and shaking it side to side as the engine roared to laugh and you heard hayley chuckle.
"this is babying!" you grunted, managing to pull her off and quickly doing up your seatbelt as the van pulled away from the airport, all of you having touched down back in australia for the last home game of the year.
thankfully the conversation shifted after that, hayley leaning forward to join in as in what felt like only a few minutes the van was pulling into the hotel, the media team already camped out the front with the usual cameras in hand ready for some social content no doubt.
bags unloaded and polite but tired smiles flashed you had your room keys in hand, trudging after steph down the hall as your rooms were right next to one another, no doubt likely at your cousins request.
"i know you're tired, but unpack and organise. training gear, game gear, mufti-" you snickered at that causing her to pause. "mufti? we're not doing a dollar coin donation at the door." you teased with a grin, the older girl only rolling her eyes but you didn't miss the slight smile that ghosted her lips.
"yeah yeah very funny. but before you relax, unpack. then down for dinner at-" "dinners at six steph, i know, i was given the same schedule you were."
a few more lecturing words of wisdom and you were finally free, swiping your key card and letting yourself inside, awkwardly lugging your suitcase in behind you as the door swung shut and you looked around, pleasantly surprised at how large the room was.
after testing out the bed and exploring every little nook and cranny you could find, you grunted as you lifted your bag up onto the bed, flipping it open and groaning at its dissaray, having packed in a hurry yesterday.
none the less knowing steph would absolutely make a point to check you'd unpacked you knew it would be less painful for you to do so now than suffer the consequences of not having done so later.
but upon getting about halfway through, you realised there was something missing, a very very important something, and a cold sense of dread settled over you as you had a vision of exactly where they were...back in london.
"oh fuck. fuck fuck fuck!" you swore, throwing things around the room as you hunted through your bags fruitlessly, the item in question far too large to be missed you were really just clutching for straws.
coming up empty handed, you knew now there was really only one thing you could so. so with that same sticky cold sense of dread trickling over you, you grabbed your room key and stepped outside, taking a few steps and knocking on stephs door.
she answered right away, raising an eyebrow in silent questioning, a peek past her showing her own case half unpacked on the floor.
"we have a problem. well, i have a problem. which i am now going to make, your problem." you managed to get out, your cousin staring at you strangely before stepping aside so you could make your way in, the door closing after you.
"well go on! out with it." steph snapped her fingers impatiently as she perched on the corner of the bed and you remained standing, messing nervously with the tips of your fingers.
"i sort of, maybe, kind of, accidentally-" "out with it in this century, egg." "hey aunty lesley said you can't call me that anymore!" "my god just get on with it."
"i left my boots at home." you finally managed out with a wince, your cousin staring at you blankly in response. "ha ha, very funny. what is it really? dinners soon." steph sighed, running her hands tiredly down her face.
"no i'm not joking. i really left them. they're still on my bed....in london." you laughed nervously, hand rubbing the back of your neck as very suddenly stephs facial features shifted, eyes narrowing.
"this isn't a joke?" "no, i really forgot them." "swear on your mums life, you're not joking?" "yes! i swear. i really forgot them."
"i just-" steph was quick to her feet, pacing back and forth mumbling things under her breath as you slowly lowered yourself down to sit on the armchair opposite her, sensing this was not going to end well for you.
"how! how did you forget your boots?" steph rounded on you suddenly, looming over you as you shrugged. "i don't know! i didn't do it on purpose." you defended as steph groaned, once again dragging her hands down her face.
"how did you not just pack them! you little shit you use them every fucking-" steph paused for a second, closing her eyes and inhaling and exhaling, calming herself.
"sorry. sorry. lets just...pause for a second." steph spoke, eyes still closed as you looked at her like she'd grown a second head but nodded none the less, your cousin taking another deep breath and moving to sit down on the corner of her bed again.
"steph...who are you calling?" "rebel. its twenty minutes away, they close at nine and you need some fucking boots now!"
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౨ৎ MUSIC AND CUPCAKES ; QUINN HUGHES !
➪ summary: what was supposed to be a quick midnight bathroom run turned into her boyfriend's brothers and their friends asking her to make cupcakes
➪ pairing: quinn hughes x fem!reader, jack hughes x platonic!reader, luke hughes x platonic!reader, trevor zegras x fem!reader
➪ warnings: none, not proofread per usual
➪ word count: 1.2k
➪ emma's notes: i'm writing this before i post it (like a day early) so idk what to say other than enjoy 🫶🏻
© laceyhearts ; do not copy, repost, translate, or put my work through ai generators. do not copy or remake my themes, graphics, or layouts.
It was late at night, and all y/n wanted to do when she exited her and Quinn’s shared room was to go to the bathroom and return. But whispers of her name echoed down the hallway, her feet halting her movements, turning slightly to see Jack peeking around from the doorway, Luke and Trevor’s heads above his. She raised an eyebrow, arms crossing, “Yes, boys?”
“Come make cupcakes with us?” The three of them gave her the best puppy dog eyes that they could muster, which only caused her to sigh.
The three boys had always seen y/n as an older sister figure, sometimes even referring to her as a second mom despite their closeness in age. When Quinn first introduced her to not only his brothers but Trevor as well, she was shy. She didn’t talk much and they rarely ever saw her without Quinn by her side. But as the years went on, she became more like herself around the boys, laughing at the worst times, making random jokes, snorting whenever one of them would end up tripping over themselves. They quickly “adopted” her into their little family.
Which is why, like in this instance, she found herself in the most unpredictable circumstances with them. Usually, it was playing a prank on her boyfriend or going on late-night drives to get them food, or sometimes even just tagging along on shopping trips, following them around into stores, and giving them advice on what to buy.
“It’s almost midnight.”
“Please, please, please, please, please.”
She sighed again, arms dropping and resting against her sides, shaking her head, “Fine.” They cheered but were quickly silenced by the look on your face. “But be quiet. Quinn’s sleeping.”
They grumbled a bit, yet made their steps quieter as they walked to the kitchen, starting to collect the ingredients they needed. She maneuvered around them, preheating the oven and finding the cupcake liners, eyes watching them and catching the tail end of the three’s mischievous shared look.
She barely had time to ask, but even if she did, she knew she’d only be ignored. Trevor’s fingers moved over his phone, navigating to Spotify before the kitchen was filled with the familiar rhythm of Katy Perry’s “California Girls” came on.
“The white girl playlist, again?”
The three grinned at her, handing her a recipe they found online for cupcakes. She glared at them before nodding, “Keep it down.”
⎯⎯⎯ ౨ৎ ⎯⎯⎯
Halfway through making the cupcakes, she heard Jack’s voice first, then Trevor’s, and finally Luke’s singing along to “Call Me Maybe” already dancing to the beat. And out of the corner of her eye, she saw their arms moving in a way she’d seen before, groaning when she realized it was the Harvard Baseball team video.
Blaming it on the catchy tune, she started to sing softly, cracking the eggs into the bowl, keeping her voice down not to wake Quinn, but the boys only took this as an invitation to sing louder. By the time the next song started - “Love You Like A Love Song” -, y/n had to warn them to lower their voices. But ocne again, you couldn’t help but sing along too, dancing slightly, whisk in hand.
They all started laughing after a small thing of batter flew off the whisk and landed on Jack’s shirt, who only pouted before lifting the fabric to eat the batter and resume singing. He reached around her, grabbing the clean whisk from it’s holder, using it as a makeshift microphone as he continued to sing.
“Unwritten” started playing soon after, the four sharing shared looks before belting the lyrics. The cupcakes were long forgotten as everything sat on the counter, each of them holding a differen kitchen utensil as a microphone - Jack the whisk, Trevor a rolling pin, Luke a wooden spoon, and her a spatula.
Meanwhile, Quinn tossed and turned in his bed, hearing faint chatter, and assumed that his brothers were playing Mario Kart a little too late again. He lay face down on the bed as he reached his right arm out to wrap around his gir,lfriend’s waist but frowned when all he felt was a pile of bed sheets instead. That’s when he heard the voices getting louder, mumbling curses to himself as he got out of bed.
He rubbed his eyes as he made his way down the stairs, each step closer to the kitchen. Turning the corner, he flinched as four voices yelled in sync, “FEEL THE RAIN ON YOUR SKIN!”
His eyes widened as he continued into the kitchen, trying to comprehend the scene in front of him. Jack was dancing on the island, and the other three, still singing your hearts out. He watched with amusement, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed like a mom who was preparing to yell at her kids.
The song came to end just as he cleared his throat causing all four heads snapped to him. Y/n’s eyes softened and immediately started apologizing, making her way over to him“I am so so so sorry, babe. I was just going to the bathroom, and then they asked if I wanted to make cupca,kes and they used the puppy dog eyes, so I couldn’t really say no. I tried to get them to be quiet, but Trevor put on the playlist and well…”
He smiled a little, happy that she was getting along with his brothers and Trevor, “I’m glad you’re…” He trailed off, “having fun, but it is almost 1:30 in the morning and the closest thing I see to a cupcake is the batter in the bowl.”
The girl groaned, looking back at the boys, then the bowl, and then at her hands that had flour caked on them, “I forgot about the cupcakes.”
Quinn eyed the three, “Alright, the two of us are going to bed, and you can either finish making the cupcakes or clean up.”
It was the boys turn to groan, exchanging looks, “We won’t be able to do it without her.”
“You were barely able to do it with her, no offense, baby.” He kissed her temple as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close so her back was flush with his chest.
She giggled at his response and watched as the boys slowly got to work, not sure if they were trying to clean up or finish making them. Quinn pulled her up to their bedroom, flopping down on the bed. She crawled in next to him, immediately making her home on his chest.
“I’m sorry for waking you up.” She peered up at him, eyes soft and innocent like she’d just committed the biggest crime against him.
“It’s okay, I’ll live. But I am never letting you live this down.”
“That’s okay, I still remember the time I came home from work and you, Jack, and Luke were listening to Selena Gomez.”
He threw his head back and laughed, “Of course you remember. Now go to bed, baby.”
“If we hear smoke alarms soon, I’m blaming you.”
“Why?”
“Because you left the boys down there without an adult.”
PART ONE ; QH43 MASTERLIST ; NHL MASTERLIST ; OTHER MASTERLISTS
JOIN THE TAGLIST ; MY NAVIGATION
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LoTR Characters + Pregnant Reader (Wife!Reader)
Back with more parent AU because it's some of my favorite fluff! Consider this a Part 1 to an anon request that’ll be on its way hehe (also an AU where something happens with Celebrían apparently 😥)
Warnings: conception, pregnancy-related illness and symptoms mentioned, very long post lol
Aragorn
✧ Neither of you had made any concrete plans. No set in stone hour of your marriage reserved for the growth of your family or dubbed too early. Thus, you are unsure how your husband will feel about your news, the fact that you got yourself checked out the first moment of illness, mother's intuition in full service already, it would seem. You cannot keep your smile to yourself, though, as you stroll in search of Aragorn, hand hovering about your own waist as if in disbelief. He had just returned from a hunting trip when you found him, smiling shakily at his amusement when you pulled him immediately aside into the next room over. "What troubles your heart?" The man had intuition of his own, years of silent observation- there was no lying to him. "I just learned that I am with child, Aragorn," you took his hand, seeing no point in being anything but direct, "due for the birth next spring if all goes well." "With blossom comes the next blessing of my kin," your husband replied, that wise look in his blue eyes causing you to shake your head fondly, "what could be more beautiful? What a gift you have given me and how could I ever repay it?" Shaking your head once more, you simply grinned and, sighing with relief and anticipation alike, replied that being the amazing father you know him to be will be all you need. Leaning forward, Aragorn laid his head against yours, brushing your noses as he held you.
✧ Looking out upon the kingdom, the realization that is is his kingdom still sinking in, and that he has made this place a home for new life as well. That this is the very reason he fought for a safe world. It brings such a rush to his heart that he goes off in search of you at once, kissing you warmly and caressing your still-small bump.
✧ Aragorn loves doing anything he possibly can to make your days easier, treating you like the queen you quite literally are! He pampers you with treatment like massages, washing your hair for you, drawing you baths, and the like.
✧ While you no doubt have many people at your disposal, quite similarly your husband enjoys cooking for you by hand and memorizes everything that makes you sick if anything as well as the random foods your cravings make you obsessed with, trying to creatively incorporate them into everything.
✧ You knew it already, but your pregnancy brings about the reminder that this man has such a way with encouraging words, his voice the only thing that cuts through the clouds of your changing moods.
✧ Aragorn is the one who tells you not to be so hard on yourself, that you are doing an amazing thing and you are desirable as yourself, no more and no less. No need to hide yourself, no need to perform, no need to feel anything less than the beautiful soul you have always been. Remember, he tells you, he is going nowhere, and you will endure all together.
Legolas
✧ For so long had you and Legolas hoped for your little life, long enough of trial and hope that you’d all but given up until you felt a shift. Felt on the brink of illness at nearly all times, seeking healing for a mystery illness and leaving with news that had your husband holding you for minutes on end, tears sliding down his cheeks, and refusing to let go of your hand all day. Holding you like you might shatter, his other hand wrapped gently around your waist where his hand can brush the curve of your soon-to-be-growing belly. “We did it, my love. We will finally be three.”
✧ Your husband grows wistful, getting a distant look in his eyes before smiling and reminiscing on his younger days. “What demeanor shall our little one have, do you say? I would not mind having two of you,” he teases, while you say a child like him would be much easier!
✧ “Both of your little ones sound quite healthy.” “Both?” You are shocked, but Legolas’s grin never falters, nor does his surprisingly tight, hearty grip upon your shoulders. “Twins,” he keeps repeating in wonder throughout the day.
✧ You and Legolas have a bet running on the twins, if they are to be identical or not. You think they are both boys, while Legolas thinks he has a little girl waiting for him, too. ���Wishful thinking,” you tease him. “Absolutely,” he agrees, smiling softly at you.
✧ As time passes, he does tease you about your waddle. “Shall I slow down a bit?” Cheeky prince, but that’s why you love him!
✧ Legolas’s eyes never fix you with anything but awe. He is simply amazed at all the wonders your body is capable of and what it endures. Even though that wonder also manifests as him almost constantly asking if you are alright, it is worth it when your husband looks at you as though captivated by a goddess.
Boromir
✧ Boromir caught you with your eyes bulging out of your head, not a single chance of delaying your discussion. Such news as you have just received can only be considered a blessing, and yet you still are shaken to the core with the spiking precursor of excitement and hope, hope that your husband would be happy. Your words burst forth the moment he took your hands, asking you whatever was wrong and nodding faster and faster with each step of your detailed medical visit. His smile grew and grew until he could hardly help himself, taking your face in his hands and pulling you into a kiss that more than assuaged your worries. “Why do you look so worried? Such a wonderful blessing was beyond anything I could imagine,” he tells you, a hand reaching to rest gently upon you.
✧ He all but tackles you to bed that night, kissing again and again your lips, your cheeks, and down finally to your belly.
✧ Boromir’s appreciation of your body never ceases your entire wait. His hands always caressing you, his words always sweet upon your ears, especially to cut through the deprecating ones your own lips utter. It baffles your husband that you cannot see how utterly glowing you are.
✧ One hundred percent though will he be teasing you about the odd cravings you get; even as he goes to fetch them he’s making faces, asking if you’re sure, joking about what strange taste the little one has.
✧ You suspect you are carrying a son while Boromir’s guess is a little girl. After you remind him that a mother knows, he rests a hand over your bump and replies with a teasing grin “Why can’t a father know as well?” “Because you do not have to carry him for the better part of a year!”
✧ One of Boromir's favorite things in this world is the sight of how his lent garments fit you tighter and tighter, bringing a twinge to both the loving and the possessive sides of his heart...and his hands to wrap around you or cup your cheeks and pull you into a kiss!
Gimli
✧ His intuition is off the proverbial charts. It is he who first makes any mention of your chances, stating you should not strain yourself in your condition. You are confused, you even protest, but in the end you have your little appointment and your husband has a smug little moment of ‘I told you so’ before the realization of just what he’d been sensing hits him, dropping his jaw and sending his arms flying about you, lifting you up into the air with a hearty laugh. “The mighty line continues! And thanks to such a beautiful lassie no less! You'll want for nothing, I promise you, and no harm'll come to either of you while I yet draw breath."
✧ Has strong opinions about how well you should be eating, so barring you being stricken with sickness Gimli will be making or otherwise providing for you the heartiest of meals, all the things he believes are necessary to raise up a strong little dwarfling. Thank the fortitude and solace of his people, but you are sick very little your entire journey with this and all other little ones you share!
✧ Given the strength of dwarven genetics, you both assume that you are expecting a boy; thus, your husband insists on crafting a tiny axe for him. “For when he’s older, of course!” Gimli assures you, waving his hands defensively.
✧ No worries about your pregnancy weight here- suffice it to say that a dwarf finds the extra pounds quite appealing and has no hesitation about showing you such!
✧ Any exhaustion you feel is the only thing that stops Gimli from taking you around to all his friends and loved ones and likely anyone else who will listen and announce that he has a child on the way!
✧ Nesting is a very strong instinct of his! Gimli builds and crafts by hand all of your baby's furniture and decor, even an adorable mobile of horses, little dwarves with pickaxes, and little effigies of your favorite animal all dangling above his crib! Leaning his head against your belly, he asks the baby "Well, what do you think? Only the finest for my little flame!"
Frodo
✧ Your husband wasn’t sure at first. Not sure if he would feel whole enough after all he endured to bring a life into this world, but you, oh, you… The one who brought life vividly rushing back to his heart, color returning to his life and comfort to his pain. One day a pang struck his heart and he realized it would mean the world if after it all he was able to create life, and more importantly to have something so amazing come of your love. Soon after you both eagerly hoped for the signs, and it took but a few months. Frodo worried you would be sick, but confirmation comes after weeks without your cycle, nothing more. For once, no pain shall come to Frodo Baggins or those he loves.
✧ Your health is his greatest concern, so much so in fact that Frodo has soon befriended practically every midwife in the Shire, melting them with his endearing eagerness to know all he can about your possible afflictions and what you need. His concerns soon gather you the proverbial village of help should you ever send Frodo off for something beyond his breadth.
✧ It breaks Frodo's heart when his nightmares or moments of panic coincide with your own fragile emotions for the first time, for he should be caring for you, not the other way around, but when you hold each other, tears soaking into the opposite shirt, he realizes that what you two have is an understanding and trust strong enough to fortify each other even in darkness.
✧ In case you were not already aware, you are so lucky in your choice of husband! Discussing names soon emerges into your conversation and it almost takes you aback how quickly agreements on a girl and boy name are reached!
✧ The one time during your entire wait for your little one that brings tears to Frodo’s eyes is the day you bring home a bolt of fabric and when he asks what it is for, you answer to make him and your new arrival matching garments.
✧ You catch him smiling widely at you, love glowing in his bright blue eyes as he watches you do even the smallest things, your little waddle or the way you practice folding diaper cloth. All you can imagine is those same eyes fixed upon a babe in his arms, shooting Frodo the same look right back.
Sam
✧ It seemed that every other conversation you shared with your beloved Samwise revolved around babies, so much so that your few still-unmarried friends had grown sick of it. Anyone with a baby in the Shire, though, knew who to look toward for care! You and Sam gushed over little clothes, little hands, went on for goodness-knows-how-long about how much you'd like a little Sam and he wants a miniature version of the loveliest girl he'd ever seen followed of course by you saying why not both? Sam loved life so much, saw beauty in growth and creation and every joy in it, so of course he wanted a big family and all his infectious sunshine on the subject just made you fall in love with him more and more. Months of trying passed, though, before you came to Sam in a daze, before you cupped his precious face in your hands and whispered to him we did it. Before he tackled you to the soft grassy ground and held you, weeping tears of joy and kissing your hands, your cheeks, finally your lips once he'd spoken how much he loved you.
✧ Takes to sleeping a bit lower, his head nuzzled against your torso. In the night you can feel his nose and lips ghosting over it and even hear little whispers when you both can't sleep, but you say nothing, letting Sam have his moments with the little one.
✧ The worry he has about everything the first time around. "Are you sure you can eat that? I don't want you to get sick." "Is that too heavy?" "Don't trouble yourself a mite when I'm right here, I'll bend over for it." "Alright, only if you're certain nothing will happen to the baby, sweetheart." As much as you want to remind him that you are still a fully functional woman, you know that Sam is an action man and this is his way of showing he cares.
✧ The meals he cooks you. You will be eating like a queen all because Sam wants to keep the baby strong, of course! As a bonus, it truly is like he knows what sets you off and avoids those things without even having to ask.
✧ “Imagine all the wee feet running through here,” Sam muses in bed one night, your head tucked in the crook of his neck. “The little hands grasping ours,” you add. “All the little ribbons we can tie in a girl’s hair.” “Taking your little boy out to the garden!” Once again, your friends act positively sick of how sweet you are, but inside anyone can see how deliriously happy you and Sam are and feel warmed by it.
✧ “When the time comes,” Sam always assures you, your hand tightly in his, “I’ll be right here. Wild horses could hardly drag your Sam away.”
Merry
✧ Your reveal is made a bit anticlimactic thanks to your husband’s teasing ways. “You’re knitting.” Glancing down at your work, you simply nod. “Yes.” “You never knit.” Merry’s eyes narrow. “Is it for somebody?” “If you must know,” you set your needles carefully in your lap and tease back, “this is for your child. Any complaints now?” “My child?” Jaw dropping, Merry looks at you like you’d just offered him the whole of Middle Earth. “That’s right,” your voice softens, even cracking a bit with emotion at the sight of his smile, “you’re going to be a father, Merry.”
✧ Merry’s adorable little habit of making you a pillow pile to lay on during your time of the month carries right through to your pregnancy. And of course it continues even when you remind him you’ll not be able to stand up from in because he will be right there to help you up!
✧ Because you've taken up knitting, Merry wheedles with all his charm and love and kisses an additional creation from you: a sweater made from the same yarn as baby's. "You are lucky to be so adorable," you tease him, looking up from your work to kiss his lovely lips. Maybe, you thought, a whole matching set for three would be in order, though…
✧ Another one who teases you, joking about how he is finally able to outrun you!
✧ The type of father to chastise the baby whenever they kick you too hard, lecturing to the front of your dress about hurting your mother and how that simply won’t do, then looking up at you with a humored smile.
✧ Compliments increase at least twofold upon your revelation, Merry never sparing the kindest words about your strength, certainly, but mostly your beauty. Never once during any pregnancy do you feel unloved, unwanted, unattractive, for even when your eyes can find no light within your reflection there your husband is practically worshipping every corner of your form.
Pippin
✧ Desire for a family was something that had drawn you two together as a couple, though you may have found yourself talking Pippin down from ten children! “Maybe start with five,” you would always tease him. So the moment your hypothesis is tested and confirmed, a grin you can’t remove spreads across your face and you run to collect everything for your surprise. Surprise is the only word you can use when Pippin opens his gift and sees the tiny knitted hat you’ve placed inside the box. “What is this for? Little small, is it not?” “If it was for us, perhaps.” It ended up taking you reaching out for his hand and resting it upon your lower belly for the massive grin to spread across his face, but once it does Pippin is laughing loudly and giddily, swinging you back and forth in ecstasy!
✧ Runs to get you whatever your need with barely an question. After all, who is he to say what it's like being with child, and if you want it, you shall have it. Hot water bottle? Certainly. A cup of tea? Of course. Three more pillows? Why, he'll strip your whole bed down. Panics a little if the request is to relieve pain, so prepare to hear a crash or the shuffle of a trip or two before you have the item in hand or on body.
✧ "What is this for?" "What are these?" Lucky you love him, your husband does have many a question of all the supplies you gather for after your new addition is welcomed. "Oh, to keep the hands safe? That makes sense." "Wait, you need to wear that... to catch the bloo- oh, my." He gulps. "I'm going out right now. I'm getting you a cake and some jewelry and some flowers and anything else you'd like."
✧ Can barely keep his hands to himself. Pippin was always the most affectionate husband you could ask for, but now? Now you two are practically a package set and nary can you travel without his arm around you, hand about your waist and gently running up and down over your little growing bump.
✧ Your baby seems to have inherited your husband’s personality, for even before the birth many signs of how active your little one is are present! Those poor ribs of yours will get kicked more than a few times with all the fluttering your little one stirs up inside of you! Pippin, of course, wants to feel it all and luckily he is never far from the scene. If he is, though, you bet he will run!
✧ Pippin is always laying with his cheek resting on your belly, talking to the baby about anything from how his day’s gone to how they have the most amazing and beautiful mother. Your heart can’t help fluttering every time.
Faramir
✧ Faramir has the most uncanny way of reading you like a book, a habit endearing as it is frustrating. Thus the moment he catches you smiling to yourself he is smiling back, approaching you with teasing question of what has you so happy. For once, though, you have the satisfaction of catching your husband off guard, resting your head against his shoulder and a hand upon his chest as you tell him you just cannot wait to see him as a father. "Someday, my love," he takes your hand and kisses it, "if I am so blessed." Giggling, you shake your head against him. "Blessed indeed! Someday shall be this fall," you answer, and peeling back from him you receive another spike of satisfaction at his wide blue eyes, the drop of his jaw and the race of his heart beneath your hand. "Are you certain?" You nod. This time, he takes both of your hands in his and with tears in his eyes thanks the heavens for you even as he shakily laughs, your bright demeanor never failing to put a smile upon his face. "Our child will be so loved." "I know."
✧ Your husband finds himself lost in reverie more and more often, drifting out of reality into some distant, but nowhere near out-of-reach, dream of your family, seeing you as a mother the most beautiful sight he can conjure.
✧ Faramir adores holding you from behind, his hands curled gently over where your bump forms and his head resting gently upon your shoulder, flowing hair tickling your cheeks and neck lightly.
✧ "One for each of us," is Faramir's joke when one of Gondor's finest medics grants you the knowledge that you are not expecting one child, but two. Your husband is there in the storms, the waves of anxiety rolling within you over being there for your twins. "You are not alone," he always reminds you, a hand joined with yours right over the twins' little hearts.
✧ If you wanted a husband who actually does his due diligence learning all he can about growing babies, birth, and postpartum care, then Faramir is another excellent choice! He’ll be spouting off facts about the whole thing ranging from what size the babies currently are to why you might have contractions after giving birth. Your mood determines whether you listen in or tell him to kindly stop.
✧ Just as with you, Faramir’s insecurities sometimes get the better of him, but they also fuel him, bringing a fire you can see to his fair eyes as he speaks with determination how he will love all his children equally.
Eomer
✧ Pride glows upon your countenance as you flit about the kitchen putting the finishing touches on the roast you'd made for dinner. A kingly feast is in order, for not only had you heard your husband performed exceptional drills this day, but you yourself are the host of something exceptional. Eomer and you have been enjoying each other's company much these days, so the news is not so much of a shock as it is a celebration, exuberance at a line enduring, two dreams fulfilled as one, especially for your husband, who speaks often of how he longs for a full, boisterous home. Six if he's lucky. Well, you can hardly wait to help him along, pulling Eomer into your arms for an enthusiastic kiss before he can even toe his boots off, and when he chuckles and asks what has taken hold of his beautiful wife you let your news fly. Shouting for joy with abandon, Eomer lifts you up into his arms bridal-style, kissing your lips again and again. Dinner is all but forgotten as he kneels before you, holding your waist and pressing kisses all over the bodice of your dress and thanking you for making his day, nay, his life, perfect.
✧ Eomer is always proud of you, but the moment he finds out you are with child that feeling swells and positively drips off of him, every outing with him suddenly seeming quite like a chance for him to show you off. An arm around you at all times, a smile of great joy and satisfaction, news shared to all who dare make conversation with you both, and even kisses in public! Eomer is simply on top of the world and not a thing will topple his spirits.
✧ As somebody who never much studied the workings of women, though, Eomer is… a bit out of his depth. You will have to teach him some things like why your emotions swing so or what to look out for to know when your water breaks. This man has been in battle, seen heads roll in the most literal sense, and yet when you describe the eventual passing of your placenta his entire face contorts in a look of horror that has you all but doubled over in laughter.
✧ “You look so beautiful with child,” Eomer purrs, “we’ll have to do this again sometime.” You smack his arm, but cannot resist giggling at the way your husband still gives you butterflies.
✧ Your new addition had not even arrived yet and Eomer is commissioning a child-sized saddle, unable to contain his excitement as he describes all their future rides to you!
✧ As you dream up names, Eomer has many suggestions from the great halls of his own people, ancestors and great warriors alike, but making considerations of your own background is equally important to him, so he is more than willing to go back and forth for the perfect solution.
Eowyn
✧ No one had thought it possible, but they should have known. Impossible was not in Eowyn’s lexicon, and that was exactly why you loved her, one part within many of why you became her wife. And now, the healer confirmed you were carrying her child. …Very well, technically her banner-bearer’s child as the two of you had been forced to get a bit creative, but to have support and help from those who had begun with such uncertainty meant the world. Even Eomer had come around, having offered similarly, but of course you had to remind him that Eowyn wanted a child of her own, not a niece or nephew! Without Guthláf’s, er, donation, you would never bear witness to the broad and beautiful smile on your wife’s face, the tears glistening in the gorgeous blue of her eyes. “A child…” “Our child,” you add, leaning forward until your foreheads touched and noses brushed, a tearful smile upon your own face as your wife gently held your waist.
✧ Having worked so many times as a nurse lends well at least to Eowyn, for she is firm and unrelenting in her urging, nay, forcing, you to rest. No ifs, ands, or buts are to be accepted from your strong-willed beauty, let her dote on you, for she does it with great pleasure. And besides, the harder you fight, the harder she'll work to keep you lain down.
✧ Understanding the pain and symptoms of your time of the month completely also translates; thus Eowyn is ready with remedies for your aches and pains, hot water and herbs awaiting you. She rarely snaps back at your moods, choosing to be silent in the worst of times because she knows. Really, she does.
✧ She cooks for you, and whether you say anything about that or not likely depends on how willing to hide your honesty behind the hormone excuse if it is not taken well.
✧ Reminds you constantly how strong you are. In your lowest of moments, the times you struggle to stand and straighten your aching spine, feeling massive and utterly useless, Eowyn is there to hold your hand and tell you that you are hosting and creating life as she so speaks. You have made the ultimate sacrifice of your body and the greatest of pain to bring just as great a blessing to yourself and your wife. Far from useless, you are divine.
✧ “What does it feel like?” Resting her head on her hand, the one that wasn’t lain against your fluttering belly, she questions you as the baby kicks. “For you?” Part of her wishes to have this experience herself someday, while another takes your descriptions with trepidation. She does not enjoy being restricted, after all.
Haldir
✧ “Lie down, please, my love.” Haldir’s concern with your sickness increased daily as did the pain of seeing you feeling so weak and ill. You tried to push through and for as much as he loved your strength, your husband was not having it this time. Pride was not worth seeing you doubled over again, whether from pain or, arguably worse, illness. You relented in the end, resting and beneath the spinning of your head at the end of the day feeling not a seed of energy to protest an inspection. Healing herbs had you perking up a bit, and perked up you needed to be when the dark-haired, round-faced healer nodded sagely and with a wide smile told you you were with child, and these early days were likely to be the worst. For the first time in days the sobs that escaped you were accompanied by a smile, your face utterly breaking as Haldir held you against his chest, weeping too and thanking you for all you would endure for this blessing.
✧ Physically carries you places as often as he can be spared to do so. Lifts you up bridal-style to move you across your home and sits you up before he feeds you. Your illness brings out a tender, caring side you have never seen in your strong, stoic husband, but it makes your heart swell that much more for him and for the life you two are to have with your child.
✧ Another symptom you experience is the aching and swelling of your feet, but Haldir sits you down facing him and makes the best work of them he can, hands gentle as always as they soothe your skin.
✧ Even in the later months as your illness abates, though, your husband remains protective as ever, standing between you and any potential harm with the fiercest look upon his face and a hand upon your middle, even if the threat is an object you’ve hurt yourself on.
✧ The way shock melts into a wide, ecstatic smile unlike your husband’s typical demeanor when the healer repeats that yes, she could definitely hear two heartbeats beside yours is worth more than any gold in the world. Haldir pulls you into his arms, chuckling deeply. You feel his head shake slightly, slowly, atop yours in wonder.
✧ When you sleep, Haldir will always be holding you close, whether it is an arm draped over your bump loosely if you’re hot or need space or else you fully tucked into your husband’s warm embrace.
Galadriel
✧ Galadriel is actually the one who assuages your worries that your dream will not come true, having full faith in you as much as the magic of this world. And she is right, of course, confidence proven in the aid you receive from a member of her guard and even the way she knows it to be true before the healer even confirms the news. As much as she jokes about seeing a glow around you, the width of her beautiful blue eyes, the shine therein, tells you that your wife is as elated to hear it beyond a shadow of a doubt as you are: you are hosting a little life for you both to nurture.
✧ You being pregnant only aids in her mysterious nature. She can be convening in a council with the wisest of minds from afar and will use you as an excuse to step away at her will. "If you will excuse me. My wife is with child." They are not even aware she is married. Some of them may not understand how it all works, but before they can ask any clarifying questions Galadriel has already slipped away to be with you.
✧ One tendency you unwittingly adopt is falling asleep in the oddest of places, your exhausted body giving out upon its own terms. Always will you wake up draped in one of your wife’s shawls or blankets, however, no matter how odd the spot.
✧ Both of you can hardly resist the allure of tiny garments, smiling every time you see them. It also rings a bell of realization within your minds as you hold a tiny gown up to your midsection. Truly as you speak, there is a tiny body within you! What magic it is to be a woman!
✧ What magic indeed, you later reflect as another pain strikes your back not long after. Hosting tiny bodies came with all the assorted blessings and curses of your kind, one not long without the other. Sighing, you make to approach the chaise across the room and soon your wife is with you, moving its drapes aside and lowering you gently to its cushions, a soothing hand tracing up and down your aching spine.
✧ "I hope she looks like you," you both turn to each other and say simultaneously, mothers' intuition firmly aligned in your hearts, from which so much love for each other pours from, Galadriel immediately drawing you closer to press her lips to the crown of your head.
Arwen
✧ Elrond had been quite hesitant about your relationship with his daughter at first- were you the best choice for her? Could someone like you keep her safe? And how, of course, would she be given the child she so desired? Questions you yourself had posed to her, but she refused to listen, telling you her mind, and heart, were sealed. Little do you know, however, that all of Rivendell would come to love you as their own, see and praise the way you cared for Arwen, and in Lindir’s case even provide the healers with a chance at you giving your wife the family you both yearned for. The moment you tell her the healers’ method worked and she is to he a mother, you both are, her features lighten, taking on the wondrous joy of youth again as she grabs your face, falling onto you with a kiss of pure love.
✧ So accusing if you've overexerted yourself, leaning in closer with a look of sometimes-teasing, sometimes-serious scrutiny. "Surely you did not carry that up the stairs all by yourself, right?"
✧ Do not even bother trying to fake feeling up to anything, whatever the task, for Arwen can see right through you and will insist you sit down, taking your hands in hers. "Rest. You have your burden- let me take the others. My heart bears no ill."
✧ Her affection gets softer, light touches to your waist and hands resting over yours. One hand upon your hip or belly and one on your shoulder as you two sway gently, foreheads pressed together.
✧ Arranging your nursery is one of Arwen's favorite pastimes: painting a gorgeous meadow mural upon the wall, stitching a soft toy to lay within the crib, asking you which fabric you prefer for blankets.
✧ Your bundle of joy can make sleep difficult, but one silver lining Arwen points out in a low whisper one morning is how many sunrises you’ve now gotten to share with each other.
Elrond
✧ Reservations about having a fourth child so long after the others disappeared every time Lord Elrond caught sight of you holding a neighbor’s child or even just showing the loving care that had him convinced he would be well even marrying a second time at all. Every smile, every sweet thing you did, all of it came back to Elrond in a rush when you told him he was to become a father again. For once he did not feel too old, too tired, nothing but the elation of his every desire unfurling to him before his very eyes from your warm embrace. To be chosen as the father to your child was the greatest honor the lord of Rivendell could imagine.
✧ Your every ailment is minimal, for Elrond knows exactly what is best for each and every one. Nausea? The perfect tea blend awaits to calm the waves you feel. Aches and cramps? Your husband is happy to give you the most heavenly massage, his hands finding every needed spot as if by magic. A swell of emotion? He does not speak unless bidden to, simply holding you through sudden waves of tears, frustration, or both until he feels your body relax against his.
✧ Being married to an elf with the gift of foresight comes with the benefit of worries soothed, but also a joke shared between you both. For many a time you teasingly chastise him not to look too far and spoil the surprise of whether you have a son or daughter on the way!
✧ Standing behind you, Elrond rests his hands around your middle and presses a kiss to your cheek. Just when you think the bliss of this moment, of having your whole little new family all together within your husband’s arms, cannot increase is when Elrond shifts his hands, taking on the great weight you carry. Peering up into his soft blue eyes, your whole body deflates in a sigh of sweet relief as he holds you.
✧ He can never truly understand your experience, but Elrond has witnessed this process. All he wishes is to tell you all your pain shall pass, even the worst memories will fade and ease, but such words will sound insensitive, so all he does is continue to hold your hand and stand proudly at your side.
✧ One thing your husband cannot resist is showering your future little one with gifts, even jewelry for when they are a bit older and the tiniest circlet to place upon the beloved head, matching Adar's perfectly.
Want to meet the little ones? Part 2 coming soon 😉
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#lord of the rings#lotr#lotr imagines#lotr x reader#the fellowship of the ring#aragorn#legolas#boromir#gimli#frodo#sam#merry#pippin#faramir#eomer#eowyn#haldir#galadriel#arwen#elrond#female reader#wife reader#pregnant reader#parent au
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What if you got turned into a 5 year old? WHB kings
Small fic based off of this post I made, tweaked the concept a bit tho
Not proofread, forgive me for typing mistakes-
GN reader/MC :]
This was meant to be done a lot earlier but I just didn't have ANY motivation to write sooo.. /ᐠ - ˕ -マ
Enjoy whatever this is- <3
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When you first woke up you felt weird.. not like sick but just weird. It took some effort but you finally managed to get a glimpse of yourself in the mirror- instead of your usual self there stood a tiny you- around 5 years old in front of the mirror.
Your thoughts were cut off by the door getting opened.
For the first 20 seconds or so you and Satan kept staring at each other before he finally manages to blurt out "What the fuck happened to you?". Honestly, that's what you wanted to know as well because how the hell did you just wake up on a Thursday like this?!
You open your mouth to say something only to manage to say "Don't know". It appears whatever- this was also turned your ability to speak back to the one you had as a five year old, but at least your mind was intact-
"Well shit" The short devil says before picking you up and placing you on his shoulders and bolting out of room straight over to where Sitri, Paimon and Ppyong were talking.
Paimon was the first one to notice you, a gasp escaping his lips "MCC~ What happened to you?" Oh boy, you were going to hear that question a lot.. You just knew it.
You shrug your shoulders. That gesture somehow earned you an 'aww' from Paimon- you could only guess he found you extremely adorable.
"We're going to Tartaros, perhaps Mammon knows how to fix you" 'Someone get me to Lucifer please because he's the closest person who can probably fix this' you think to yourself, internally facepalming. Though a certain concern quickly appeared in your head- how on earth were you going to get there so fast?!
Well you got your answer extremely fast as Satan bolted outside and into where he keeps his motorcycles..
And when Satan placed you on his motorcycle? You almost screamed. Surely he wasn't going to drive there with you on board?! Actually knowing him he would..
Unfortunately you fears were true as the devil of wrath started the engine and started speeding towards Tartaros but at least he was holding you tight so you wouldn't fall?
If you were to ignore the.. few panic attacks you almost got on your trip to Tartaros then you could say it was the best trip you've ever had in your life.
Instead of parking his motorcycle somewhere Satan decided 'fuck driving rules' and drove straight through walls and straight to Mammon.
The sudden stop caused you to fly out of Satan's arms and into Mammon's.
"Who are they?" "MC" "What happened to them?" Ah shit, here we go again. You lift your head "Don't know, woke up like this"
You then noticed Bimet looking at you with an appraising gaze before pulling you into his arms and then pulling a donation box from God knows where- You didn't even have to know that Bimet was going to use your tiny self as means to get money- probably charging Tartaros devils a hefty sum of gold to see you..
You poke Bimet's cheek "I want money." If that fucker was going to make money off of you then you wanted some of the share!
"Fine."
Anddd about three hours later you were regretting your life choices. You weren't going to lie, you were about 60% sure that Bimet wasn't going to try and make money off of you but he did- the good news is that you're keeping 60% of what was earned, the bad news was that you were EXHAUSTED, your legs hurting from walking around so much.. and so now you were leaning against Mammon's chest, his large hands patting your head which caused you to drift off and finally fall asleep.
You're not sure how long you slept but you were woken up by the slight smell of smoke and so you open eyes and you found yourself laying on the couch with Belphegor's arms around you.
"Huh-" you blink before looking around, now all eyes are on you. "His Maj' and I found heard about your situation and now we're here just chillin'". Beleth explains, squishing the cigarette he was smoking under his boot.
Shockingly that didn't comfort you in the slightest.. why? Because if Beleth and Belphegor heard about the situation then how many more- and more importantly- did the angels hear about it?! Or are they the ones behind it?
"Stop movin' so damn much" You hear a tired voice behind you. Apparently you moving around slightly woke the king of sloth up which to be honest made you laugh just a tiny bit.. "Morning" You greet him knowing damn well that Belphegor would rather not be awake right now.. in your defense- it was not your fault that he woke up.
In the corner of your eye you can see Beleth checking the clock, he sighs as he walks over to you, carefully unwrapping Belphegor's arms around you "Sorry we've gotta go, got some stuff to deal with"
You frown a bit- you've been up for about 3 minutes and hadn't had the chance to talk with Beleth and Belphegor much- at least you got to nap. You wave them goodbye and then look around the room "Where Satan?"
"He had something to do in Gehenna so he had to leave" Mammon explains, getting up "I'll get you something to eat". Now that food was mentioned you did realize that you were hungry-
When the door to your room was suddenly opened you almost screamed after realizing who came in.
"And here I thought you couldn't get anymore adorable~" Asmodeus greets you, picking you up. "Have the devils treated you well? Have you been fed proper food?"
'If by being fed means getting no food then yes i've been fed well, really well in fact' you think. But instead of voicing your- thoughts you shake your head and manage to respond with "No food".
Almost immediately Asmodeus frowns at your response, reaching down to boop your nose. For half a second you were temped to bite Asmo's finger like an angry cat but you didn't, instead you respond with "Mammon bringing food".
"I see~Let's hope he brings something that's edible for you, your teeth aren't good enough to bite down on gold". Oh crap- you didn't even think about that- Now you had to pray that whoever of the seven kings held their one shared braincell gave it to Mammon for a moment to make him realize that gold is NOT good food for a human child.. or hell a normal human in general!
'Thanks Asmo now you're giving my small brain the overthinking syndrome..'
Oblivious to your now panicking mind Asmodeus sits down and shockingly begins to tell you about his past wife and kids.
At some point Mammon had come back and (very hesitantly considering Asmodeus' presence) had given you a plate of normal food so now you were snacking on food while listening to Asmo's story peacefully-
Well until that peace was lost by a fly starting to buzz hear your ear!
You pout slightly "Bub.."
Your annoyance was either clearly written on your face or your tone considering the fly disappeared about 5 seconds after. Replaced with Beelzebub's figure standing in the middle of the room- .. holding a bottle of wine?!
"I heard you changed into a child so I brought you something to drink!". You widen your eyes, staring at Beelzebub like he was the biggest idiot in the room- which he was but you weren't going to say that out loud considering you didn't have the will or patience to deal with a fly bugging you for the next week or two..
"Wine is not safe for human children to consume" Asmodeus says in your stead, tightening his grip on you slightly as if he's worried that Beel might actually shove some wine down your throat..
"It's not?" 'Dear god never let this man have kids..' You think to yourself..
"It's not" You confirm with a sigh, focusing on eating your sandwich again. "Do we know what caused this?" Beel suddenly asks and you sigh again. Considering that you had food in your mouth you shake your head as a clear 'no', 'hell no' even.
"We should call Levi!" Beel suggests, earning nods from the two other kings with you. 'Solomon you saying these guys are idiots would be an understatement of the fucking universe time.'
When Leviathan got the call for him to come and take a look at you he almost laughed and he was internally laughing until he arrived in the room, immediately starting to glare daggers at Asmo who's lap you were still sitting in.
And then you were snatched from Asmo's lap by Levi- You weren't a devil but even you could sense the envy radiating from him. "Levi!" Beel greets Leviathan with a bright smile on his face which earned a scoff from him-
'I can't imagine just getting brushed off like that, i'd cry for 6 years at least'
"What happened to them?" Leviathan finally asks- shockingly you didn't hear that as much as you thought you would or maybe you were asleep when those questions were asked- honestly you didn't know. "We don't know, Satan crashed here with his motorcycle with them in his arms" Mammon responds- well at least you didn't have to respond.
"An angel attack?" THAT'S WHAT YOU WANTED TO KNOW. "Don't know" You respond, crossing your tiny arms with a pout "We thought you might know Levi" Beelzebub adds, smiling at Leviathan. "Well clearly I don't, I've never seen this before" Okay now you wanted to know- did Levi wake up on the wrong foot or something???
"I'm dialing Lucifer's number~" Asmo says with a slight smirk. "You're not blocked?" You ask with a straight face. In the corner of your eye you could see Leviathan get a small smirk on his face before it returned back to his original expression. The devil king of envy holding you slightly closer as Asmodeus frowns "Blocked"
Yeah you didn't find that part that shocking- almost everyone you know that isn't from Abaddon has him blocked.. more often than not you were this close to also blocking him.
"I'll call Lucifer for master" Mammon says, quickly dialing Lucifer.
[Can this mf just come home to me already? :( Alright back to our scheduled programming.. ]
Shockingly it didn't take that long for Lucifer to arrive. He knocked on the door before walking in, his eyes scanning the room before they fell on you.
"What happened to them?" He finally asks while picking you up from a less than willing Leviathan's arms. Lucifer places his hand on your small forehead as to check your temperature- well you didn't know why he did that but to be fair there was a reason he was a doctor and not you-
"They apparently woke up like this. I miss when my kids were this small" Asmodeus responds with a sigh, clearly reminiscing about the past. "Is it some sort of an angel attack?" Mammon continues, making Lucifer raise an eyebrow- 'Yeah I don't think he's too fond of his former brethen being blamed for everything even if my favorite motto is to blame Gabriel..'
"I don't believe it is" The fallen angel confirms, looking at you again before continuing "I've heard rumors of a mischievious devil going around and spiking other's drinks with magic that turns them into a random creature or in MC's case into a child for a day".
You look at Lucifer with a raised eyebrow- did he deal with someone like this earlier this week or something? "Harmless?" You ask, hands reaching to play with the messy strands of Lucifer's hair. Hell since you had the opportunity to do so- why not? In the corner of your eye you can see Leviathan glaring daggers at you- you were going to get hung for that later weren't you-
He pauses for a few seconds before nodding "I believe it is harmless"
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And that's how you got babied for the rest of the day with Beleth, Belphegor and Satan arriving back at some point.
#what in hell is bad#whb#whb asmodeus#whb leviathan#whb lucifer#whb beelzebub#whb belphegor#whb mammon#whb satan#lucifer whb#whb beleth#whb ppyong#whb paimon#whb bimet
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An absolutely devastating expose of rape culture among older American adults - even if the author doesn’t choose to admit to herself or her readers that that is what she’s writing about
“My mother’s most recent encounter with “the blue pill” was grueling. After a taxing day (stalled car, heavy traffic), my mother told the man she was seeing that he should not take it that night. She was exhausted; all she wanted was a good night’s sleep. He took the pill anyway and got into her bed with an erection. Too tired for an argument, she acquiesced. “You’re ministering to him,” she said of the experience, “trying every trick in the book, and it’s not working. But he’s like, I have an erection, I’m going to make this work, I’ve got this usable part, I’m just going to do it … I felt like I was the blow-up doll, as if I’d disappeared. I was so conscious of being utilized and totally objectified.”
Ultimately, the man did not ejaculate. But penetration didn’t end until my mother, who says she’d begun to disassociate from the moment, dug her fingers so deeply into his shoulders that he finally stopped to ask what was wrong. The next day, there was “no pain. No physical irritation. Tedium. Annoyance. Anger at self for putting up with it. Lots of the latter.””
Full text under the cut:
The Little-Blue-Pill Problem
For some women of a certain age, erectile-dysfunction prescriptions are redefining sex — and not always for the best.
My mother and I talk a lot about sex on a near-daily basis, which hasn’t always been the case. Growing up, the only “sex talk” I can remember came the summer before I left for boarding school, when I was packing up, and my mother suddenly asked about the sex-education classes I’d endured as an eighth-grader.
“Did they teach abstinence or safe sex?”
Because I didn’t know what abstinence was, I chose the latter.
“Well then,” she said, “you know about sex.”
I didn’t know about sex, but she sounded relieved, which in turn relieved me.
We first started talking openly about sex after our respective divorces, which happened within a year of one another. I was 39 and in Kentucky, in a freestanding house, living alone for the first time in my adult life. She decided to leave Virginia and buy a too-large house just down the street. Within just a few months of her relocation, I’d sold my house and moved in with her.
It was in between episodes of Prime Suspect — in which Helen Mirren must not only hunt violent criminals but also combat rampant sexism — that we began exchanging stories about our sex lives. I was surprised to learn that my then-68-year-old mother considered herself sexually enthusiastic and that she thought sex had become more rewarding with age. I was also surprised to learn that she, an intrepid internet dater, had hopes and intentions of remaining sexually active for the foreseeable future.
Now, though, just eight years later, our talks have gone from casual and funny to negative and remorseful, as she’s become increasingly weary of attempting intimacy with men her age.
My mother negotiated sex through three marriages with three very different men, for a cumulative 43 years, but never once reckoned with erectile dysfunction. “Maybe I was lucky,” she said. “Maybe not.” When ED “dropped its head” during her first post-divorce sexual encounter a couple of years ago, she was flummoxed. “My partner and I were both in our mid-60s, healthy, and fit. A flaccid penis was not part of my intimacy vocabulary.”
Neither was “the blue pill,” which could actually be any number of phosphodiesterase type 5 (PDE5) inhibitors in any number of colors — Viagra (sildenafil), Cialis (tadalafil), or Levitra (vardenafil), prescribed medications that improve dilation of the arteries in a penis, helping a man get and maintain an erection.
To the uninitiated, including myself and almost all of the friends I polled, 30- and 40- and even 50-somethings who haven’t yet had personal experience with it, sex on the blue pill is assumed to be just the same as sex without it. Maybe there would be a few extra lengthy erections, some discomfort on the guy’s end, but that would be it.
Large swaths of men and women describe Viagra as a game changer, a marriage-maker, a life saver. But there also exists a mostly unheard-from subset of heterosexual women who would disagree. In fact, my mother unequivocally views Viagra as the cause for her newfound aversion to sex.
The problem is that while a urologist can improve circulation pharmacologically and add testosterone, actual ejaculation isn’t guaranteed. But some men, perhaps out of a desire for the familiar satisfaction of completion, keep going, keep engaging in sex, regardless of whether or not their partner wants to or is still getting any pleasure from it.
One doctor I spoke with, Claiborne Whitworth, explains it this way: A functional erection does not equal the ability to achieve orgasm or, as my mother points out, even an erection capable of penetration. “Older male patients commonly report difficulty achieving orgasm,” Whitworth told me, “some failing to achieve it at all, with sexual encounters ending due to exhaustion and/or discomfort for the receiving partner.” The average time for a male to ejaculate (once the penis is in the vagina) is three-to-seven minutes. An older man with delayed ejaculation can take 25 to 30 minutes or even longer.
Now consider this: Vaginal lubrication is produced during arousal, and most water-based lubricants, which mimic natural lubrication, come with a suggested reapplication time of five to 15 minutes. According to a survey conducted by the Study of Women’s Health Across the Nation, which lasted over 17 years and included more than 2,400 participants, the “prevalence of vaginal dryness increased from 19.4% among all women at baseline (ages 42 to 53 years) to 34% at ages 57 to 69 years.” Menopause, anxiety, and being married were all linked to the development of vaginal dryness.
My mother’s most recent encounter with “the blue pill” was grueling. After a taxing day (stalled car, heavy traffic), my mother told the man she was seeing that he should not take it that night. She was exhausted; all she wanted was a good night’s sleep. He took the pill anyway and got into her bed with an erection. Too tired for an argument, she acquiesced. “You’re ministering to him,” she said of the experience, “trying every trick in the book, and it’s not working. But he’s like, I have an erection, I’m going to make this work, I’ve got this usable part, I’m just going to do it … I felt like I was the blow-up doll, as if I’d disappeared. I was so conscious of being utilized and totally objectified.”
Ultimately, the man did not ejaculate. But penetration didn’t end until my mother, who says she’d begun to disassociate from the moment, dug her fingers so deeply into his shoulders that he finally stopped to ask what was wrong. The next day, there was “no pain. No physical irritation. Tedium. Annoyance. Anger at self for putting up with it. Lots of the latter.”
In a 2003 study published in Sociology of Health, the sociologists Annie Potts, Nicola Gavey, Victoria Grace, and Tiina Vares discuss the dearth of documented experiences from the female sexual partners of men who use sexuopharmaceuticals. Talking to 27 women whose male partners used Viagra, the writers suggested that “while the publicity surrounding Viagra may potentially facilitate more positive attitudes to sexuality in older age, it may also produce a societal expectation that ‘healthy’ and ‘normal’ life for older people requires the continuation of ‘youthful’ (energetic) sex lives focused on penetrative intercourse.”
Of course erectile-dysfunction medications can create positive change for both the prescription holder and their partner. Peter, an 80-year-old in Ashville, North Carolina, can’t remember when he first started using Viagra, but he does remember it was when his ability to orgasm went from twice a day to once a day. “One day, there was less penis in my pants,” he told me. Somewhere in his late 60s, early 70s, however, the pill stopped working as effectively. He returned to his doctor. His problems were four-fold: “It won’t get up; it won’t stay up; it won’t stay up long enough for me to complete; it won’t stay up long enough to give her satisfaction.”
Peter’s doctor put him on a low daily dose of Viagra, instructing him to increase the dose to 100 milligrams before sexual activity. “It’s not as rigid as when I was a younger man, and it still presents some issues with penetration — I am working through those issues with the incredibly generous cooperation of my partner.” Today, he says, he’s having “the most satisfying sex I’ve ever had, albeit with challenges. I’m much more thankful and appreciative of what’s possible.”
Still, my mother was eager for me to write about her experiences with the blue pill, in part because she’s convinced, given her exploits, that the drug is quietly affecting the well-being and happiness of an untold number of women all over the world. Telling me about her recent and past encounters, she sometimes waxed quite funny (“I mean, their faces still look good, but their little wanker is not wanking”), but mostly she was mad: “The whole business of entitlement, sex, aggression, erections, and pills makes me angry. On the one hand, I felt that I was complicit in allowing him to continue,” she said, “but the reason I didn’t stop him is because of that stupid toe in the door of patriarchy: that a man’s penis is such a fragile subject that I didn’t want to humiliate him. It felt incumbent on me to make the problem go away. Which is just stupid. But I was, in a way, taking care of his bad behavior.”
In the case of many erectile-dysfunction advertisements, the perspective of female partners is either portrayed as entirely healthy and participatory (those bathtub commercials, for example) or entirely excluded. That 1998 ad featuring Bob Dole equated medicated sex with bravery, leaving out any consideration for the partner altogether with the tagline, “It may take a little courage to ask your doctor about erectile dysfunction. But everything worthwhile usually does.” An entire Pfizer campaign featured solo well-dressed men in confident, contemplative poses. One series of slogans highlighted by Weill Cornell Medicine’s History of Medical Advertisements collection — “You may be a man of few words, but you know how to make them count”; “Men don’t look for excuses. They get things done”; “This is the age of knowing what you’re made of” — reinforce that the drug is all about the man, all about his desires, all about helping him recapture what he’s previously been, and no one, nothing, else.
“Everybody was going on about how wonderful this thing was,” said one 60-year-old woman participating in the 2003 study, “and … [when I read about some other women’s experiences] I thought oh, thank God, I’m normal! — not everybody sees it as being … the most wonderful thing that ever happened this side of sliced bread!”
I asked a general practitioner if she ever had complaints from female patients about partners misusing or overusing Viagra prescriptions. She said, “Viagra can probably uncover deeper relationship struggles. We think that sex is going to fix things, it doesn’t necessarily …” Plus, aging affects women’s sexual health, too, she points out. “Female genital atrophy, for instance, is a common phenomenon among menopausal women that can reduce libido, reduce arousal, and increase difficulty in achieving orgasm,” she added. She told me about a couple in their 70s who she sees and treats together. The husband wanted the pill. The wife did not. The husband wanted their doctor to explain why his wife was wrong. She wouldn’t. “It was very aggressive,” she told me. “Very much But I’m the man sort of thing.”
I talked to Dan, a mid-50s CrossFit instructor who gave up Viagra about a year ago. Dan first started using the pill after going through a bad breakup in his late 40s. He didn’t need it, he says, but the fallout from the breakup was stressful. When he started dating someone he connected with, he got worried that his stress would be a distraction and that he wouldn’t be able to perform when the time came. He went to his doctor.
“Knowing what I know now,” he said, “if I was my doctor, I would have said, ‘Look, bro. I could prescribe this shit for you, and it will cause you to much more easily get an erection and keep said erection. It’ll spring to life and stay there for a while, no matter what’s on your mind. But in the medium to long term, you’d actually be better off, if you don’t actually have a physiological problem’ — which I didn’t and don’t have — ‘figuring out your fucking mind so that you don’t introduce this sort of dependency into the mix.’ Because that was the thing that happened.”
Other drawbacks for Dan included headaches, low blood pressure, and the issue of timing. He’d gauge the possibility of sex, take the drug so that he hoped the timing was about right, and then sometimes, if intercourse didn’t happen, he’d be stuck. “It just was not ideal.” A few times while using the pill, he tells me, he felt like he might actually “drop over dead” during some especially strenuous CrossFit classes. Ultimately, he weaned himself off what he referred to as his chemical dependency because the drug had begun to affect how he thought about sex. “Once you take it, you’re then stuck facing a headache and with this particular window where it does its thing. It inclines you to think, Okay, I just took this. I should probably use my penis.”
After talking with my mother, I started wondering about other women. I am guilty of acquiescing to sexual encounters with men when I wasn’t totally in the mood. I’m guilty of faking orgasms in the hopes of rushing a partner’s climax. I’m guilty of letting a partner continue his penetration long after it’s stopped being comfortable or pleasurable for me, a choice that left me feeling sore and achy well into the next day. Exactly how pervasive is women’s deference to men’s pleasure?
I texted a few friends, asking about their experiences. Mallory, who is in her early 50s, wrote back immediately: “My own experience with the blue pill was great,” she said, but she also told me about a woman who’s “a widow now but used to joke about the only foreplay was serving her husband a glass of water to take the blue pill.”
Lynne, a friend of a friend, is a 65-year-old retired medical interpreter who specialized in obstetrics and gynecology. Five years after her divorce — what Lynne refers to as “a length of time without intimacy” — she was thrilled to reconnect with her first love, who’d recently become single himself. “He was as opposite to my ex-husband as a man could be, in mostly wonderful ways, but also the not so great,” she said. “He was the prototypical sedentary American with terrible dietary habits on top of the smoking, and he needed Viagra to perform at all. But the sex was fantastic, and we had a blast making up for lost time.”
For Lynne, the drug, initially, was a revelation. But when she eventually asked him not to automatically take the pills when she noticed what she thought were side effects, as he would if there was even a possibility of intimacy, “it took a long time for him to control the habit of doing so, as if it were an obsession. And it is!” Eventually, her partner accepted Lynne’s feedback and now, eight years later, they’re still together.
On an intellectual level, Lynne understands that natural aging diminishes both the desire and abilities she took for granted in more youthful days; she told me that an active and fulfilling sex life has been an extremely positive part of her life. “That being said, the obsession with virility is creepy,” she says, “the assumption that it is what women want all the time is a turnoff.”
I found Ann, 53, through Instagram. She explained her marriage’s sex life as having its share of highs and lows before she and her husband turned to sildenafil. “We are very attracted to each other, have been from the very beginning in our 20s,” she told me. “It went up and down while raising kids. It got really good after the kids went to college.”
Ann described her experience with sildenafil as good, “for the most part.” She added, “It’s in his head now that he always needs it. I don’t like to always have to say, ‘Tonight, let’s do it.’ There’s something a little rote about sex now.”
Ann’s diminished craving doesn’t stop her from being grateful for the sexuopharmaceutical help her husband has received. She told me that the very best thing (for her) isn’t the sex; it’s the psychological side effect: “I couldn’t believe how down he could be if an erection did not happen.”
A woman in her late 60s named Pearl heard that I was working on this piece and offered to share her thoughts. “I’ve had to play along with my husband’s needs and wants for a while now,” Pearl told me. Before the blue pill, but since middle age, Pearl described sex as infrequent, quite casual, not unpleasant but also not earth shattering. “We both had to be quite ‘turned on’ for it to happen. And, yes, I often felt the need to hide my lack of interest and play along.” They hadn’t discussed Viagra until her husband brought a prescription home one day.
Pearl had lots of questions, including whether or not her husband had acquired a similar pill for her. He hadn’t. “How am I supposed to get in the mood, lube up, wait the half-hour, and act like this is great?” she said. “I do get asked sometimes ‘Should I take a pill?’ Hmmm … Am I in the mood? Will I be in a bit? Do I want to be in the mood? Or I get the ‘I took my pill awhile ago.’ Well, great, I’m about to fall asleep …”
When I told Dr. Bat Sheva Marcus, a sex therapist, over Zoom about my mother’s experiences that have inspired this story, she almost instantly teared up. “The fact that you’re talking to your mother about this is so powerful to me,” she said. But she was also quick to point out that she wasn’t crying for the reason I might think.
“It sounds to me to a certain degree that the thesis of this article is that the little blue pill has been really helpful for men but is putting a lot of pressure on women in a way it shouldn’t,” she said. “That’s probably true about a subset and I want to talk about what that subset is, but I also want you to know that phos-5 inhibitors in general have been a godsend to many, many people.”
Marcus then delivered a surprising statistic that she would go on to deliver a few more times over the next couple days: by 40, 40 percent of men need will need a PED5I to achieve an erection; by 50, 50 percent; by 60, 60 percent; by 70, 70 percent; and by 80, “well, you’re probably not gonna be able to have intercourse without Viagra.”
When I started this piece, I was filled with rage on my mother’s behalf. My working hypothesis was something along the lines of Fuck the blue pill, fuck the patriarchy, fuck masculine fragility. But after talking to Marcus, I understood that my initial stance conveniently eschewed nuance. “I think what you’re hitting on,” Marcus said, “is less the problem with the medication and more the problem with the communication and the expectations about sex in our society. If you can’t talk about it, you shouldn’t be doing it.”
Dan, the CrossFit instructor, told me, “My new relationship is so much deeper. We’ve gotten more comfortable. We’re pretty direct communicators now. Sex isn’t always going to lead to one or both of us having an orgasm. Sometimes it’s like the movies and awesome, and sometimes it’s nothing like that and still awesome. I just wish my doctor hadn’t been so ready to say, ‘Sure. Here. Try it.’ It’s much more complicated than that.”
My friend Anita, who is in her early 50s and lives in New York, met her husband, 15 years older, when she was 20. For several decades, they had a healthy and active sex life. When Anita was 45, her husband, after a year of debilitating symptoms, was diagnosed with a near-fatal heart infection.
“Our sex life had totally dried up,” she said, “because he was dying, and they didn’t know why.” Ultimately, he had two heart valves replaced, was in the hospital for a month, and put on IV antibiotics for six months after that. During that time, they had no sex. When they were ready to try again, they discovered he had erectile dysfunction, a common side effect for men after open-heart surgery.
His doctor suggested Viagra. “And, oh my God, it felt like I was being hammered by somebody who was never going to have an orgasm. It’s fine now, but it was terrible at first. Because his whole body — his whole body image — was fucked up from the surgery and almost dying.” Anita realized a conversation was in order. “But that was after I got to the point where I could be like, ‘It’s working, that’s great, but, you know, it’s not working in a way that is deeply satisfying for me.’ It took a long time — like four years — for me not to feel like I was just a receptacle.”
My boyfriend is nine years older than I am. Long before my mother and I started talking about erectile dysfunction, he and I had agreed that, if and when it was necessary, he’d get a prescription for Viagra, and that would be that. But he’s been privy to much of my research for this piece and, recently, our conversations around the topic have become more detailed and specific.
“Everything I knew about Viagra came from commercials I saw during football games,” he said. “You know: Talk to your doctor. Have better, more satisfying sex … I hadn’t thought much beyond the pleasurable smiles on the aging beautiful couples’ faces.”
“What if I don’t want to have sex into your 70s?” I asked.
“Ideally, we’ll find other forms of being intimate that work for us both,” he said. “The idea of hurting you is a total turnoff.”
“There are lots of ways to have sex,” I said.
“And if you don’t want to and I do, I’ll use my hand. But maybe it’ll be me who doesn’t want to have sex,” he said. We both laughed.
These new conversations aren’t sexy. Sometimes they’re playful, and sometimes they’re uncomfortable. But one thing that seems glaringly essential to any healthy and functioning sex life is communication. I’m grateful that my mother has provided me a reason to start thinking about and talking about what sex might look like as I move into my 50s and 60s.
Talking about sex is hard. It took my mother and me many decades, several divorces, a shared roof, a decent amount of wine, and Helen Mirren before we were able to start doing so honestly and without embarrassment. Now it feels as natural as pouring a cup of coffee first thing in the morning and as easy as tying a shoelace.
“Maturity and confidence contributed to my embrace of ‘geriatric’ sex and enthusiasm for it,” my mother told me. “We geriatrics passionately don’t want to grow old, and sex — good viable sex — offers the suggestion that we aren’t really old after all. But I now believe I’ve given up on that element in my life, which makes me sad. Joyous, frisky, passionate sex is just that: joyous, frisky, and passionate. I would happily forgo erections, penetration, and orgasms for the pleasure of being with a man who knows he’s still desirable in spite of impotence.”
My mother has scolded herself for sometimes still “having her toe in the door of the patriarchy.” But I see something admirable, even subversive in her new self-possession. I know a lot of women who fear the second half of their lives. But I’m beginning to think it’s the very act of becoming “women of a certain age” that inclines us toward autonomous and radical thinking — and demanding our pleasure be taken seriously.
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𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐲 𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐭 ♡
akaashi keiji x f!reader
you and your boyfriend are no strangers to overthinking — so when your period doesn't arrive on time, you take turns calming each other down.
"I'm late." Akaashi lifted his head from the manuscript he was editing, his glasses strewn haphazardly across his face. You were standing in the threshold of your shared study, having just returned from your second anxiety-induced bathroom break of the night.
Your boyfriend of five years turned in his creaky swivel chair to face the calendar tacked on the leftmost wall of the room, littered in neon post-it notes and defaced by both of your penmanships — Akaashi's short and slanted, yours perfectly proportioned.
Ever the editor, he said, "But I thought your draft wasn't due until next week." Being a romance author and dating a literary editor certainly had its perks, but in this moment, you couldn't decide whether to feel distressed or endeared by his misinterpretation. You took a deep breath and tried again.
"...not that kind of late."
It took him a second to understand. But when he finally did, the brain fog immediately cleared from his eyes.
"Oh — oh," he said, setting down his red pen and standing from his desk. "You're absolutely sure?"
You nodded. "Three days, to be exact."
Ever since you and Akaashi had started dating your senior year of college, you had been tracking your periods in hopes of preventing an unplanned pregnancy. You were both open to having kids — after all, you two were arguably the most responsible ones in your friend group, and baby fever passed between the two of you as easily as the common cold. But neither of you expected to have a child this early into your careers, and the mere idea was enough to make you feel queasy.
"Hey, hey," Akaashi interjected gently, reading the expression on your face like an open book. He walked around his cluttered desk and pulled you into his arms. "It's okay. I know we both have a tendency to overthink —"
"A great trait to pass onto a baby," you volleyed back.
"But if you really are pregnant, we would handle it," he continued, however amused by your quit wit. He tucked your head beneath his chin. "We'd ask all the right questions, read all the right parenting books. I'll hold your hand when your get your blood drawn, even though it makes me want to collapse."
Despite yourself, you chuckled at that.
"Besides," he added. "We practically raise Bokuto together already."
You were laughing even harder now, the waves of anxiety flooding your chest now subsiding, if only for a moment. Akaashi was the only one capable of doing that.
"Ugh," you cried, pulling away from him to massage your tired eyes. "How did this even happen?"
"I think you know perfectly well how this happened."
"Of course, I know," you drawled. "But we had a plan. A well-thought-out, career-oriented plan. You would go to grad school, I would publish a few more novels —"
"All of which we can still do if we become parents," Akaashi replied, taking both of your hands into his. "Y/N, I am well-aware of the fact that we both love planning our lives to a tee. In fact, your thoughtfulness and attention-to-detail are what I love most about you."
Your face flushed at his affectionate words.
"But maybe it would save us both the mental energy to let life surprise us every once in a while," he finished.
"With a baby?"
"With anything! Including the possibility of a baby." He pushed your hair of our of face and looked at you in sheer adoration. "I love you, Y/N. There is no other person I'd want to become a parent with. So while an unplanned pregnancy sounds daunting, I will be right there with you. We'd figure it out. Together."
Perhaps it was the steady confidence in his eyes — or the potential pregnancy hormones coursing through your bloodstream, but you started to cry. Taken aback, Akaashi immediately took you back into his arms.
"D-Did I say something wrong?" he stammered. You shook your head against his chest as you wept.
"No. No, you said everything right," you reassured him. "God, if this actually happens, Keiji, you're going to be an incredible parent."
Now it was his turn to get emotional.
You turned off the lamps at your respective desks and headed to the pharmacy two blocks away from your apartment, the sidewalks bustling with native bar-hoppers and starry-eyed tourists. You'd both walked this path several times before and had always returned with a bundle of items: Red Bull, microwave popcorn, the occasional pack of condoms. But never a pregnancy test. "Is there a specific brand that gives you the most accurate results?" Akaashi asked, immediately pulling out his phone to do some research in the middle of the family planning aisle. "It says here that digital pregnancy tests are generally considered more accurate, but you can get a pack of three analog tests for nearly half the price..."
He paced up-and-down the rows of tests, comparing and cross-referencing them like he did each of his authors' drafts.
"I mean, why don't we just buy them all? It can't hurt to cover all the bases," he murmured, grabbing one of each brand from the shelf and dumping them into your open arms.
"Keiji," you laughed, amused by how serious he was about all of this. "Don't you think we're being a little hasty?"
"You're right," your boyfriend said, shaking his head. "I haven't even checked the expiration dates on any of these — "
"No, that's not what I meant," you repeated firmly, meeting his frazzled gaze with your now-steady one. "I think we should buy only one pack. Your pick."
He looked at you as if you'd just suggested he dive off a steep cliff. "Are you sure?" "Yes," you promised him. "I don't even think I have enough pee for all the pregnancy tests I'm holding right now." His shoulders slumped from the steep drop in adrenaline, and he pressed his lips into a tight, nervous line before admitting, "I just want to make sure I'm doing everything right." "You already are," you reassured him, shifting all of the pregnancy tests over to one arm and reaching out to squeeze his shoulder with the other. "You don't need to overthink whether or not you're doing a great job, because you are. I wouldn't have let you possibly impregnate me if you weren't."
He released a shaky sigh, a sheepish smile on his face as he asked, "Can I still consult Google reviews?"
After finally selecting a pregnancy test and a pint of ice cream to share, you and Akaashi paid for your items and walked back to your apartment arm-in-arm.
"Do you remember the day we met?" he asked, the sounds of the city rumbling between you as you walked.
"Of course I remember. I wanted the last desk in the front row of our senior writing seminar, but someone got there before me," you said teasingly. "Though I think it was for the best. I developed a crush on the back of your head almost instantly."
"You did not."
"I'm not even kidding. I'm pretty sure I based all of my fictional love interests on you that year."
"That I picked up on."
"You did not."
He chuckled. "Don't get me wrong, I had to ask Bokuto to read your stories because I thought I was insanely self-absorbed for suspecting you'd base any character off of me. I'd never had anyone describe me so accurately. So...deeply," he confessed. "I was flattered. Truly."
You couldn't help the blush creeping up your neck. "I guess that's what I get, asking my crush to peer-review my work."
He bent down to press his lips to your temple. "I'm glad you did."
You climbed the stairs back to your apartment and unlocked the door, the small space crowded by stacks of books and half-empty mugs. You imagined what it would be like to rearrange the furniture to make room for a crib, what it would be like for you and Akaashi to read to your baby all the books you'd loved as children. The mere idea was enough to make your eyes well up again.
God, you thought to yourself, tearing open the box of pregnancy tests and inspecting the thick packet of instructions. Would you actually be disappointed if this test came back negative?
"I'll be right here if you need me," Akaashi said, gesturing to the couch. You nodded, walked into the bathroom, and closed the door.
After five minutes of working yourself up to peeing on the stick and another two of actually doing it, you ushered your boyfriend back into the bathroom. You'd placed the test face-down beside the sink, not wanting to know the results without him. Your heart hammered violently as you considered this piece of plastic's inane ability to tell your entire future in just a few measly lines.
"Hey," Akaashi reassured you for the millionth time that night, intertwining your hand in his. "No matter the outcome, I've got you."
"I know." You nodded. "I've got you, too."
His expression softened. "You ready?"
"Yeah," you said, and you meant it. After all, Akaashi Keiji had spent the past five years holding your heart with more patience and consideration you ever thought you deserved, and you had dedicated yourself fully to doing the same for him. You took care of each other amidst all anxieties. That alone was enough to assure you that, whatever the future held, you would be just fine.
Squeezing each other's hand one last time, you took a deep breath, reached for the pregnancy test, and turned it over. @miyasmagnolias, 2025
#haikyuu#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu drabbles#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu x you#hq fluff#haikyuu imagines#haikyuu!!#akaashi keiji#akaashi x reader#haikyuu akaashi#hq akaashi#akaashi x you#hq x you#hq x reader
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SOMETHING TO LOSE
LINE BY LINE ᝰ.ᐟ "Watch the world from the sidelines / Had nothing to prove / 'Til you came into my life / Gave me something to lose" - Phoebe Bridgers, Sidelines
ᝰ PAIRING: lando norris x f!reader | ᝰ WC: 1.5K ᝰ GENRE: established (secret) relationship, reader is an F1 Academy driver ᝰ WARNINGS: car crash, mentions of injuries (i swear everyone is okay) ᝰ INCOMING RADIO: this has been dying in my wips for close to three weeks now. i'm still not entirely happy with it bc i fear i may have lost the plot but! when lando wins in monaco, you finish writing the fic (disclaimer: this was locked and loaded pre-race) ꨄ requested by @piastriprincess ! MWAH lily I hope you like this and I'm sorry it took so long <333
Lando Norris has never been one to sit still – especially not when something, or someone, starts to matter.
He’s always been motion. Quick hands. Quicker mouth. Jokes on standby, pace in reserve. He thrives in the blur of it all: the champagne spray, the scent of hot tires and hotter pressure. But not that day. Not the day he first saw you.
You were plastered to the back wall of a McLaren media mixer, looking like you’d rather be at the dentist’s office than under the buzz of fluorescent lights and clinking glasses. Rookie year in F1 Academy, fresh out of British F4, a rising star in a room full of planets. You still walked like your racing boots didn’t quite belong on marble floors. You hadn’t said much – until you did.
And once you did, Lando couldn’t stop listening.
He’d wandered over to Andrea mid-joke, only to do a cartoonish double take when you said something dry and sharp that made even the famously stone-face team principal snort into his drink.
You caught him looking. He smiled, eyes bright. You didn’t smile back. Not right away.
But then you did.
And that was that.
The first time he showed up at one of your races, no one questioned it. The golden boy of McLaren at a junior formula race? No brainer. “Just supporting the sport,” he’d said, offering a shrug and a picture-perfect grin. But his hands fidgeted with the corner of his pass as you climbed into the car.
He;d planned to stay for a few laps. Maybe post a story. Instead, he stood trackside until the final lap, heart in his throat, as you surged from midfield like a firestorm and snatche P1 with a bold dive on the inside.
When he saw you later – sweaty, grinning, champagne-soaked – he caught your wrist just before you disappeared into a sea of orange.
“Congrats,” he said, then leaned in and whispered, “Don’t make me look bad in front of Oscar again.”
You rolled your eyes, but your fingers stayed tangled with his.
No one really knew.
There were whispers, of course. A blurry photo snapped through a fence in Jeddah: two figures walking side by side behind the hospitality units, her head tipped back in laughter, his hand brushing hers for a heartbeat too long. A clip from a fan vlog in Zandvoort: you ducking into the McLaren motorhome during lunch and emerging fifteen minutes later with your race suit half peeled and your hair different – mussed, somehow, like someone had run their fingers through it.
Twitter and Reddit and TikTok all had their theories, but that’s all it really was. Speculation, mostly. Nothing confirmed. Nothing with teeth.
Oscar knew, obviously.
He gave you a slow, pointed once-over every race morning you turned up yawning and pink-lipped, Lando not far behind, hoodie half zipped and smirking.
“Sleep well?” he’d ask, deadpan. “Like a rock,” you’d shoot back, not even looking up from your phone.
The grin Lando tried to bite back would always give you both away.
Oscar would sigh, sip his tea, and mutter something about undignified behavior before 9AM before disappearing into the garage.
In Singapore, Lando showed up to the garage with a blooming mark just under his ear, shaped like a bite.
The PR team nearly passed out.
He didn’t blink.
You’d warned him in the back hallway. Low voice. Sharp nails pressing into the thin cotton of his race tee.
“I will call your mother,” you hissed, eyes narrowed. “Please do,” he said, with that stupid, crooked grin he reserved only for you. “She’s been meaning to catch up with you.”
You shoved him against the wall. He kissed you stupid anyway.
The secrecy was half the thrill. The glances across garages, the messages that vanished like smoke, the way he’d text you a single orange heart after a podium.
The secrecy wasn’t about shame, or hiding. It was about keeping, holding. You weren’t his for the internet. You were his in the quiet. His in the stolen hours.
And then– Miami.
You’re on the back half of the grid, a downside of an epic qualifying. “You’ll carve through them,” Lando had murmured into your shoulder that morning, the sheets still tangled around your legs.
“You better watch,” you warned, grinning into his neck. “I always do,” he replied, voice low, hands gentle.
He should’ve been preparing for his own qualifying. Instead, he’s trackside again, hoodie sleeves shoved to his elbows, chewing his lip raw as your formation lap begins.
Lap 5.
Chambers doesn’t brake. You don’t have time.
It happens in the blink of an eye – a flash of carbon fiber, the ugly crunch of contact, your car spun out into the gravel like a paper plane. The garage goes silent. Lando stops breathing.
The screen doesn’t switch angles. The marshalls run. A puff of smoke billows upwards. Your car stays quiet. Still.
Landos’s fingers curl tight around the fabric of his hoodie, strangling the MCL logo.
And then–
Your voice. Faint, garbled. But yours.
“I’m okay. That-uh. That hurt like a bitch. But I’m okay.”
He chokes on air, clutching the table to make sure his legs don’t give out.
Will glances over at him, reads everything in Lando’s pale face, and throws him a subtle thumbs up. It’s enough to keep him upright. Barely.
He almost doesn’t make it to Q3.
Will’s screaming something in his ear, – “Head down Lando, PUSH!” – but all Lando can think about is the moment your head hit the headrest. The static in your voice. The way your car didn’t move for four whole seconds.
You’re already in the hotel room by the time he gets there. He doesn’t bother knocking – the door opens before his knuckles can touch the smooth wood.
You’re standing on the other side of the threshold like you’ve been waiting. One hand on the knob, the other at your side. Like you know, somehow, that he needs this. That he’ll come apart if you make him wait one more second.
There’s a bruise blooming across your elbow, faint enough to miss from a distance. Your hair is damp. You’re wearing one of his shirts. It hangs off your frame, soft and lived-in and safe.
And your eyes – tired. But gentle.
“I’m okay,” you say, and your voice is soft. Honest.
You are okay. But he’s not.
He steps into you before the door even finishes swinging shut. Arms wrap around your waist too tightly, his hands clinging like he doesn’t trust you to stay upright. He buries his face in the crook of your neck and breaths, really breathes, like its the first clean inhale since you went spinning across that track.
A sound claws up his throat: half-sob, half-breath, raw and wrecked. “I thought-” his voice breaks. “God, I thought-”
The rest won’t come out. The image is too fresh, too sharp: your car turned sideways, gravel flying, comms gone silent.
You don’t tell him it’s alright. You don’t tell him he’s being dramatic. You just hold him, gently carding your fingers through his curls.
He kisses you like it’s the only thing he remembers how to do – lips brushing your temple, your jaw, the line of your throat, your wrist. Each one is a question he doesn’t dare ask aloud: Are you still here? Are you real? Are you mine?
“Be more careful,” he whispers, forehead pressed to yours, voice hoarse.
His eyes are red. His lashes are wet.
“I know,” you murmur, thumb brushing his cheek. “I know.”
That night, he curls around you like a question he’s too afraid to answer – one arm locked around your waist, the other wound beneath you, clutching at the fabric of your shirt. His face presses against your back. He counts every breath you take.
Sleep doesn’t come easily. Not for him.
But he says like that til morning anyway, holding you until his arms fall asleep. Because now, he knows what it feels like to imagine a world without you in it.
And he won’t let himself forget. Not so he can worry – but so he can make damn sure he never takes you for granted again.
When the morning light begins to slip through the curtains, you roll over slowly, still aching but alive. You blink at him through sleep-hazy eyes.
“Hi,” you whisper, voice rough from sleep. “Happy race day.”
Lando smiles for the first time in what feels like years – a real one, lazy and boyish. Relief softens him, round sout the sharp edges of his fear.
“Hi,” he breathes.
“I’m starving,” you mumble.
He huffs a laugh, presses a kiss to your forehead. “Waffles and cartoons before I head out?”
You nod against the pillow, blow him a kiss as he stumbles out of bed for the room service menu.
And just like that, the weight begins to lift. Not all at once. Not completely. But enough.
Enough to believe that the world is still turning.
Enough to believe you’re still his, still within reach.
#f1#f1 imagine#lando norris#lando norris fanfic#lando norris fluff#lando norris imagine#lando norris x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#formula 1#formula one#mclaren f1#ln4#mclaren#lando norris x you#f1 x you#ln4 imagine#ln4 x reader#ln4 fic#ln4 mcl#lando norris fic#⚡︎ race day#event -> line by line
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Home Sweet Home
Summary: "It's good to be home," you think as you arrive back in Hawkins, Indiana; not only three years older, but also as a mother.
Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader
Warnings: mentions of sexual acts but not detailed
A/N: guys I'm really excited to post this frfr, I'll edit it later. I think there might be 4 parts to this, but we'll see. Also, this is like, 3.6k words and I tweaked the timeline a bit so don't worry about the logistics fr 😶 I hope you like it!
“God, Nance…” Steve panted as he tried to catch his breath from above you.
The blissful haze suddenly bursts as his words registered in your head and you open your eyes with a frown. “What?”
“Huh?” He doesn’t even realize what he’s said and that upsets you even more.
“Get off me.”
“What?” Steve lifts his head from the crevice of your neck to look at you.
“I said get off of me.”
He’s confused. “Did I do something wrong?”
“I said get off!” You raise your voice, tears already threatening to spill from your eyes.
Still confused, Steve complies and moves beside you on his bed. You immediately sit up with his blanket covering your body as you search for your clothes while he covers himself with a pillow.
“Y/N,” he calls, “Y/N what happened?”
You ignore him and pull your shorts on before searching for the rest of your clothes. Steve hurries and puts his boxers on, carefully walking over to you.
“Did I hurt you?” He slowly and softly touches your shoulder after you had just put your bra back on.
“Don’t touch me!” You whip around to face him and he immediately retreats his hand like you burned him.
“What did I do!?” He raises his voice. “Tell me what I did! I-I thought we were having a good time-”
“Yeah, we were,” you start as you finally tug your shirt on over your head, “until you called me Nancy.”
The color drains from his face once those words leave your mouth and he seems deep in thought, probably trying to recall the moment he called you a different name.
“Y/N I- I don’t- She-”
He’s at a loss for words. What could he possibly say to make this better? He doesn’t even remember calling you Nancy but by the tears silently slipping from your eyes, he knows you’re telling the truth and it crushes him to see you like this.
You and Steve have known each other since sixth grade. The pair of you had to sit next to each other for a semester which brought you two very close. You stayed friends for the remainder of the year and continued to be friends since.
You didn’t start having feelings for Steve until freshman year. It had just stopped raining when the two of you exited the movie theater and on the walk back home, there was a massive puddle blocking your way. You told him you were fine walking through it, he disagreed saying you’d get the bottom of your skirt wet and dirty. You told him that it was fine and that you could just wash it when you got home, he said no and with a blink of an eye he had picked you up, bridal style, walking across the puddle and getting his shoes dirty.
You told him he didn’t have to do that but he just shrugged and continued to carry you. You took this time to study his features and suddenly a strange feeling erupted from the pit of your stomach. When did Steve get so cute? Was he always like this? How did you never notice it before?
He sets you down at your doorstep with a grin and you finally come back to. You thank him, not only for taking you to the movie theater but for carrying you as well. He says it’s no big deal and “what are friends for?”.
For the rest of the night, you replayed that moment in your head.
Sophomore year came around rather quickly and just one month into the school year, Steve was dating a freshman named Nancy Wheeler. She was really sweet and very kind and boy did you envy her. Because she had what you wanted. Steve. As her boyfriend.
They dated for a year and you really got to know her, even befriend her. You also befriended a peculiar boy named Jonathan and an even more peculiar boy named Eddie. Your junior year, to complete your little friend group, you befriended a talkative girl named Robin.
And maybe a couple of middle schoolers. But to be fair, you only became friends with them because two of them were your friends' little siblings.
Steve and Nancy broke up a few days after their one year anniversary. Steve was torn. You were there for him, like always.
Seven months after Steve and Nancy called it quits, you finally decide to tell him that you have feelings for him. You’re extremely nervous. He doesn’t say anything but he does pull you into a kiss which leads to the two of you being intimate which then leads to the moment at hand.
“You’re unbelievable.” You scoff, throwing your bag over your shoulder and shoving past Steve.
“Wait-” He takes your hand in his to stop you but you yank it away.
“No!” You shout, “God, I thought you felt the same way about me! You kissed me!”
“I do feel the same way!” He looks at you with panic-stricken eyes.
“No you don’t!” You take a step away from him. “You’re still hung up over Nancy. I’m so stupid. God, we- we had-” You trail off, pressing the palm of your hand to your head. “Shit. I need to go.”
“Y/N please wait. Let me explain-”
“Just leave me alone, Steve.” You interrupt him. “Please leave me alone.”
He stands at the doorway of his room, defeated, as he watches you walk down the hall and disappear down the stairs. When he hears the front door slam shut he closes his eyes and bangs his fist against the doorframe.
After that day, you did everything to avoid him. You didn’t talk to him in class, you were always one of the first people to leave, you didn’t answer his phone calls, you begged your mom and dad to tell Steve you weren’t home whenever he’d stop by, you even started having lunch in the library with Eddie just to avoid him.
You continued to do all of that for the remainder of the school year and when summer came around, you and your family ended up moving to Michigan. Not because of the Steve situation, your parents didn’t even know what happened between the two of you. The only one who knew was Eddie. Your dad got a job offer and decided to take it. At least avoiding Steve would be way easier now.
You told your friends about the move and although they were sad, they wished you well with whatever came next for you and you did the same for them.
With one last group hug, you bid farewell to your friends and farewell to Hawkins.
-
Starting your senior year of high school being four months pregnant was not ideal. You only found out after the move and when you told your parents they were deeply disappointed. Their 17 year old daughter falling pregnant was not what they had wanted for you and as reluctant as they were when you told them you wanted to keep it, they were supportive. They told you it would be tough but it was a risk you were willing to take.
You blurted it out to Eddie one night when the two of you were speaking on the phone. He was telling you about how Nancy and Jonathan had started dating and how Robin was in band now, also telling you that she looked absolutely ridiculous in her uniform and that he’d mail you photos of her in it so you could laugh as well. He caught you up with the kids drama and made sure to avoid the topic of Steve.
Eddie was telling you about some D&D campaign he created when it slipped.
“All I have to do is tell those little squirts that-”
“I'm pregnant.”
There's a moment of silence before you hear Eddie's voice again. “Nooo... Why would I tell them that?”
“Eds..." You sighed.
“Ace… You're not- Are you serious?”
Ace. A nickname he gifted you when you annihilated him in a game of cards once.
“As a heart attack.”
“Oh my god…” He whispered. “Who knows? Is it… Steve's?”
You shut your eyes and rub your left temple. “Yes, it's his and no one knows but my parents and now, you."
"Y/N/N... holy shit. Are you gonna tell him?"
The thought had crossed your mind on several occasions.
“No.” You reply.
“Y/N-”
“And you're not gonna say anything to anyone, Eddie. I mean it. Not the kids, not Nancy, not Jonathan, not Robin, and especially not Steve, you hear me?"
Eddie let's out a defeated sigh. “Loud and clear.” The two of you are quiet for a few seconds before he talks again. “Can I at least know why you're choosing not to tell him?”
“I just- I don't want to ruin whatever plans he has for the future. He's probably still hung up on Nancy anyway and besides, I doubt we'll ever see each other again.” You spill. “It's better this way.”
“Whatever you say, Ace.” You can tell he's not happy with your answer. “My lips are sealed.”
January 1985 is when you gave birth to a healthy baby girl who you named Penelope.
Penelope Eden Y/L/N.
You had sent pictures of her to Eddie with a note explaining that Eden was close to his name and that’s why you chose it while also saying he would be the best uncle to your little girl. He called you that same day, pretending like he wasn’t crying on the other end as he told you how happy he was.
Two and a half years later, you and your parents move back to Hawkins. You debated on whether or not you were going to stay in Michigan but ultimately decided on following your parents back home. Sure, you made a few friends here and there but nothing would beat your friends back in Hawkins.
Eddie was practically bouncing off the walls when you told him over the phone one night. You promised him the two of you would meet up the minute you were done settling in.
A week after moving back to Hawkins, Eddie came over to your place with a hug for you and about three toys for Penelope. You told him he didn’t have to get her three of them but he shrugged and said he didn’t know which one she would like so he just got them all.
You were about to protest when he held his hand up to your face and said, “Ace, as her favorite uncle, it's my job to get her anything and everything she ever wants.”
For the rest of the time he was there, he bonded with Penelope and the two of you talked about what has been going on for the past 3 years. He told you his band was booking small gigs here and there and you told him you’d go to a few of them when given the chance. Once the catching up died down and it got later in the day, he suggested a reunion with your former friends.
“Come on, Ace, it'll be fun. I’ll invite everyone to my place-” He had gotten an apartment recently. Nothing too big, but just enough for him and his things. “-I won't tell them you're here and when they all show up, BAM! Surprise!”
“Mmm… I don't know, Eds.”
He knows why you’re hesitant.
“Steve won't be there, I promise. He doesn't really hang with us that much anymore. The only one who sees him often is Robin and that's because they work together.” He holds your hand with both of his as he looks at you with pleading eyes. “Please, Ace? It'll only be me, Nancy, Robin, Jonathan, Dustin, Max, Lucas, Will, Mike, and El. Just us. They all miss you just as much as I do.”
He continues to beg and you think it over in your head.
“You promise Steve won't be there?”
“I pinky promise.”
“If he is, I’m breaking your guitar.”
“Deal.” He doesn't miss a beat. “That's how confident I am that he won't be there.”
-
Eddie had picked you and Penelope up a couple of days later and you helped him set up a few things for the little reunion that was about to take place in less than an hour. Eddie made sure to tell them to all arrive at the same time and as confused as they were, they obliged.
Your hands began to get clammy as time got closer and closer to your friends arriving. You didn’t know why you were so nervous to see them. They were your friends for crying out loud!
Maybe it was the fact that in a couple of minutes they’d all be meeting your two-and-a-half-year-old daughter who they had no clue even existed yet, who also just so happens to look identical to your former best friend. Yeah, that’s exactly why you were so nervous.
“Eds, I’m nervous.” You voice to him as you eye the clock on the wall.
“It’ll be okay.” He rubs your shoulders in a soothing manner. “They’re gonna freak when they see you. In a good way, though. Maybe even pass out when they see Pen.”
Your eyes widen. “That’s not helping. I think I’m about to have a heart attack.”
“You’re fine. Relax, everything is going to be alright.”
He helps you regulate your breathing and when he finally has you calmed down, there’s a knock at the door.
“Oh my god.” You panic. There’s another knock on the door.
“Come on, Eddie, open the door! it’s hot as hell out here!” You recognize the voice as Mike’s and you cover your mouth, eyes wide as you look over at Eddie.
“I’m gonna throw up!”
“No you’re not! Not in my living room, at least.” He whisper-yells back to you. “Take Pen, go into my room, and shut the door. I’ll come and get you when everyone is inside.”
You nod, your stomach doing somersaults as you quickly walk over to Penelope and pick her up. As you shut Eddie’s room door, you tell your daughter to be quiet by putting your finger to your lips and going, “shhh.”
She does the same thing back to you, showing you that she understood.
You could hear a couple of voices from outside of the room and you nervously started tapping your foot against the floor as you waited for Eddie to come get you. About a minute goes by when you finally hear him tell everyone he has something to show them.
You hear Max groan and say, “You better not have gathered all of us here just to show us another one of your new guitars.”
He’s offended by the statement and defends himself, making you believe that he has gotten them all together just to show them one of his new instruments before. You stifle a laugh.
Eddie opens the door slowly so as to not scare you and motions behind him. “You ready?”
You take a deep breath and nod. Eddie guides you down the hall and you unintentionally hold onto Penelope a bit tighter.
“Surprise!” Your friend shouts just as you turn the corner into his living room.
Dustin was mid stuffing his face with chips when he saw you. Everyone’s movements were paused, eyes wide as they stared at you.
“Oh my gosh…” Jonathan managed to get out.
“Y/N!” Robin is the first to jump up off her seat and gather you in a hug.
It’s like her actions bursted through everyone's bubbles because one by one they all came up to you with tears threatening to spill.
“It’s been so long!”
“Are you back for good?”
“How have you been?”
“How long are you here for?”
“We missed you!”
“How-”
“Wait!” Robin interrupted, “We’re all glad you’re back but uh, is this your baby sister or…?”
Everyone’s attention is now on Penelope and your heart starts beating faster. She’s oblivious to what’s happening at the moment and is even reaching over towards Dustin’s hair.
You clear your throat. “Guys, I’d like you to meet my daughter, Penelope. Penny, say hi!” you take her tiny hand and wave to your friends as she says a small “hi.”
There’s a beat of silence before they start speaking at once.
“Daughter?!”
“What the f-”
“Watch your mouth, dingus, there’s a baby present.”
“Sorry…”
“I can’t believe you’re a mom.”
“Who’s the dad?”
“Mike! You can’t just ask that!”
“Why not?”
You feel yourself getting overwhelmed the more and more they ask questions. Eddie senses this quiets them down.
“Guys, guys! Let’s all settle down. I’m sure Y/N will answer all your questions in a bit and even so, she doesn’t have to if she doesn’t want to. Let’s all just appreciate the fact that she’s back, alright?”
Everyone agrees and says sorry. You tell them it’s okay and offer to tell them what they want to know as you move to sit on the couch. Penelope wiggles out of your arms and walks over to Dustin who was sitting on the floor beside you with the rest of the kids.
“Oh,” he says, “hi.”
Penelope grabs a fistful of his hair pulling ever so slightly before letting his curls go and watching them spring back up. This makes her giggle and she does it again.
“Penny, no. We don’t pull people’s hair.” You tell her before fixing your gaze to Dustin. “Sorry Dusty, she likes to play with people’s hair. Especially people with curly hair.”
“It’s okay,” he smiles, “I don’t mind. Here,” he takes his hair and pulls it before letting it go, showing your daughter that he was okay with her doing it again. She giggles and tugs his hair again.
“Okay,” you sigh as you scan over everyone in the room, “What do you want to know?”
-
You had just finished updating them on everything that has happened since you left. You didn’t go into too much detail, just told them that the father of your baby was someone you met when you moved to Michigan and that when he found out you were pregnant, he bailed.
You didn’t mention anything about Steve and to your knowledge, no one even knew that you guys were involved at one point.
They didn’t ask any further questions about Penelope or her father. They either were done asking or they didn’t want to pry any further just yet. Instead, you moved on and told them about your time in Michigan and asked about what they had all been up to over the past 3 years.
Nancy and Jonathan were still together, Robin has a crush on a girl named Vickie and is too chicken-shit to ask her out, Dustin met some girl at a science camp he went to and now they’re dating, Mike and El were still together, same as Max and Lucas, Will was still playing third wheel (poor Will), and you found out that Joyce and Hopper had gotten together which threw you for a loop.
“Wait, wait, wait-” you shake your head, “your mom-” you point a finger between Will and Jonathan, “-is dating Hopper? Jim Hopper, like the guy who never cracks a smile? The guy who doesn’t enjoy like, anything?”
“Yep.”
“That’s the one.”
“Well,” you start, “you find love in mysterious places with mysterious people, I guess. At least they’re happy.”
You turn your attention to your daughter who was in the middle of playing with Max, El, Dustin, and Lucas. They were helping her build a little tower. Well, they were doing most of the work, she was putting blocks on the tops of their heads saying, “stay!”
“Aww I wish I brought my camcorder, they’re so cute.” You pout.
“I brought my camera!” Jonathan says as he pulls it out of his bag, “I could snap a couple of photos for you.”
“Why’d you bring your camera?” Eddie questioned.
“I bring my camera everywhere.”
“Freak.”
“Says the freak.”
You’re glad to see that not much has changed within your friend dynamic.
“I’d love it if you’d take photos of them playing with Penny.” You tell Jonathan. “I’ll even pay you!”
He scoffs as he snaps his first picture. “That’s not necessary Y/N. We’re friends. Plus, I just self-appointed as Penny’s uncle so if you want me to take photos of my niece, I will.”
“Oh, you self-appointed, huh?” You say with an amused smile.
“Yep.”
“Let’s not let things get out of hand,” Eddie interrupted, “I’m still and always will be Pen’s favorite uncle.”
“We’ll see about that.” Dustin’s voice cut through the air.
“Stay outta this, Frodo.”
“Guys,” you interrupt them, “I’m sure she’ll love you all the same. Now-”
You were cut off when you heard the front door open then shut.
“Sorry I’m late,” a voice you hadn’t heard in a while dances around the room and you feel ill. “I’m assuming my invite got lost in the mail because I know my friends would never meet up and not tell me, right Eddie?”
He finally comes into view yet he hasn’t seen you and you feel like you’re about to throw up. You hadn’t spoken to him since he shattered your heart that fateful day in his bedroom. He looked older, a bit more mature. His hair was all the same, however. Maybe just a tad bit longer but nonetheless the same.
Your heart is pounding at this point. It feels like it’s about to pop out of your chest. Not a good feeling.
“So,” Steve starts, “what’s going-”
He finally sees you and his words fall off. It looks like he’s about to throw up too.
Eyes wide and jaw slacked, Steve manages to say one thing.
“Y/N…?”
“Aw man…” you hear Eddie murmur.
You inhale deeply and slowly turn your head to the one person who promised you that he wouldn’t be here. Eddie is looking at you, utterly terrified, as he chokes out;
“Please don’t hurt my guitar…”
#stranger things#stranger things fanfiction#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#steve x reader#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington fanfic
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PCGamesN: Interview with David Gaider - 'Ex Dragon Age writer says the legendary series was never "a good match for EA"'
David Gaider on Bioware's struggles with EA, Old Republic "sucking up" the cash for Dragon Age 2, and how Larian got Baldur's Gate 3 so right.
Excerpts under cut due to length:
"I asked whether he'd finally played Dragon Age: The Veilguard – in a post on Bluesky in October 2024, he stated that "[he didn't] think he could play and enjoy the game like other fans play and enjoy the game," calling his relationship with the RPG "complicated." He tells me that he still hasn't touched it, saying that his deep-rooted connections to Thedas make it "hard" to go back. When I ask about the series' transition over the years from a strategy-heavy RPG to a fast-paced, mission-based action game, then to a quasi-MMORPG, then, of course, to Veilguard, he says that "Dragon Age is like the Alien franchise of games: every Alien movie is almost a different genre and a completely different reboot of style, and I think Dragon Age, in many ways, is the same." "For the first three titles, I was there, and I understood the reasons behind all the changes – each time it was sort of an overcorrection for what we thought the problems were with the previous title, then it combined with various issues at the time that were specific within Bioware. Dragon Age 2 was the size it was because we had to fill a production slot before the fiscal year and because Star Wars: The Old Republic was sucking up so much cash from everything. Then, Inquisition was kind of a reaction to the fact that some fans were quite disappointed by Dragon Age 2 – although, as an aside, in many ways I think it's one of the best titles in the series – but, regardless, we felt like we had something to answer for. I think, in many ways, Inquisition kind of yet again moved the barometer too far in that direction." "So I kind of see Veilguard [as] more of that – it was answering what came before and kind of moving the barometer a bit too far in many ways, but it also had a lot of internal trouble within Bioware as well; they were at the merciless ends of it, from what I understand anyway." He clarifies that "I'm an outsider now, so I only know part of it. I still haven't played [Veilguard] because it's hard to see. I had a very personal relationship with Dragon Age and I chose to leave it, so I'm not blaming anyone or anything, but to see it sort of continue on without me and make different choices, there's always that element in your head that's like 'is that what I would've done? Would it have been different if I'd stayed and been there and helmed the writing of it?' Who knows, but it is still very, very difficult to see." [...]"
"Back in February, Gaider encouraged EA to "follow Larian's lead," a comment that quickly went viral. I ask what he meant by that. "In many ways, Dragon Age was, I think, not a good match for EA," he tells me. "They never really knew what to make of it, or what to do with it. The expectation was always that it wouldn't do well, and when it did do well, it took people by surprise. By comparison, Mass Effect was slick and it was action-driven and very much up EA's alley, so they always expected that it should do better, and every time it didn't, it got excuses like 'oh they released in the wrong timeframe, or X, Y, and Z.' The idea was that the potential for Mass Effect was more – it could get the action audience as well as the RPG audience. It wasn't until Mass Effect 3 that they started to realize that 'no, there's an action RPG audience, like a crossover,' but you don't just get both audiences together. "Even though Dragon Age only catered to the RPG audience – at least initially – [EA] kept wanting it to move into the action space as well – and maybe by Veilguard it has. I think their idea was that the 'cap' on the RPG audience was only so big," he recalls. "Then Baldur's Gate 3 comes along and proves no, it's possible that if you lean into what a genre does really well, you can grow the audience, as it turns out." "It's funny, trying to turn Dragon Age into something it's not. Wouldn't it have been great if they could have had the vision that Larian had and looked at what that type of game does really well and just doubled down on it? Double down on the choice-driven narrative, double down on the production value, like the presentation of the characters and the cinematics and dialogs, and just take it to the extent where quality is the watchword. What Larian did was exceptional and hard to replicate because they don't have a publisher over them; they're privately owned so you can't just translate that to anyone else, but it'd be like asking a publisher like EA to have the vision that Larian did, and they really live on two different planets."
[source]
#dragon age: the veilguard#dragon age: dreadwolf#dragon age 4#the dread wolf rises#da4#dragon age#mass effect#bioware#sw:tor#video games#long post#longpost
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Hi, Love your work.
I don’t know when you will be back and when the request will be opening. So sending you a request. Wonwoo is enlisting. So can you do a Wonwoo x idol!reader, where she gets to know from Weverse announcement as same as Carats and is mad at Wonwoo and he is explaining why he hid that from her. Some angst and fluff at the end
Before You Go | idol!Wonwoo x Reader | angst, fluff



The moment Y/N saw the Weverse notification pop up on her phone, she felt her entire body freeze.
[NOTICE] SEVENTEEN WONWOO’s Military Service Hello. This is PLEDIS Entertainment.
Her breath caught in her throat as she clicked on the post, her hands slightly trembling. The words blurred together in front of her eyes, but one thing stood out clearly—he was leaving. And she had to find out the same way as every other Carat?
A sharp pang of betrayal shot through her chest. She and Wonwoo had been together for years, through secret meetings, stolen moments, and whispered confessions under the stars. But he hadn’t told her. Not once had he even hinted at it.
She gritted her teeth, her heartbeat pounding in her ears. If she hadn’t checked Weverse, would he have even told her before disappearing?
Without another thought, she grabbed her phone and dialed his number. The call went straight to voicemail. Twice. Three times. Her frustration only grew as she paced around her apartment, her mind racing with thoughts she couldn’t control.
Just as she was about to throw her phone onto the couch in frustration, it buzzed in her hand.
Wonwoo: Can we talk? I’m coming over.
She didn’t reply. She didn’t need to. He had a spare key anyway.
Fifteen minutes later, the sound of her apartment door unlocking filled the silent room. Wonwoo stepped inside, his gaze immediately finding hers.
“Y/N—”
“You have got to be kidding me,” she cut him off, arms crossed tightly over her chest. “I had to find out from Weverse, Wonwoo?”
He sighed, closing the door behind him. “I was going to tell you.”
“Oh, really? When? After you were already gone?” Her voice cracked, despite her best efforts to keep it steady. “Do you have any idea how that felt? To wake up and see that news like—like I’m just any other fan?”
“I didn’t want to hurt you.” His voice was quiet, laced with something she couldn’t quite place—guilt, maybe.
“Well, congratulations,” she shot back, bitterly. “Mission failed.”
Wonwoo exhaled heavily and ran a hand through his hair. “I knew you’d react like this.”
Her eyes widened in disbelief. “So you decided to keep me in the dark instead?”
“I was trying to protect you, Y/N. The last thing I wanted was to see you upset.”
“That’s not your choice to make for me.” Her voice softened, but the hurt remained. “You don’t get to shut me out just because you think it’ll be easier.”
Wonwoo took a deep breath, his jaw tightening before he finally spoke. “I panicked, okay?” His voice wavered, something rare for him. “I didn’t know how to tell you. Every time I tried, the words wouldn’t come out. I thought I had more time.”
Y/N frowned, her arms still crossed. “More time? You knew this was coming, Wonwoo.”
“I did, but I didn’t know it would be announced today,” he admitted, looking down at the floor. “I woke up to the Weverse post just like you did. I thought I still had a few more days before it went public. I thought I could sit you down, explain everything properly.”
She let out a shaky breath. “You should have told me the moment you knew.”
“I know,” he said, his voice heavy with regret. “But every time I tried, I imagined how you’d react, how much it would hurt you. And I—” He let out a hollow chuckle, shaking his head. “I got scared.”
Her anger wavered for a moment as she studied him. The way his shoulders slumped, the tired look in his eyes—he wasn’t just guilty. He was afraid.
“Wonwoo…”
“I didn’t want to see you cry,” he continued, voice barely above a whisper. “And now I’ve made it worse, haven’t I?”
She swallowed the lump in her throat, her emotions warring between frustration and understanding. “Yeah, you did.”
His lips pressed into a thin line as he nodded, accepting her words. “I should have trusted you with this. I should have been honest from the start.”
Silence stretched between them before Y/N sighed, dropping her arms to her sides. “You’re an idiot.”
“I know.”
She hesitated, then took a step forward. “But you’re my idiot.”
Wonwoo’s lips twitched, almost forming a smile. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
A beat passed before she finally let herself close the distance, wrapping her arms around him. He melted into her embrace instantly, his hold on her just as tight.
“I love you,” he murmured into her hair. “That hasn’t changed. It won’t change.”
Y/N blinked back the sting of tears. “Then don’t treat me like a stranger, Wonwoo.”
He squeezed her hands gently. “I won’t. Not anymore.”
He hesitated for a moment before pulling back slightly to look at her. “I need to tell you something else.”
Her brows furrowed in concern. “What?”
“I won’t be completely gone for two years,” he said softly. “I’ll be doing public service, so I’ll be able to come home every day.”
Y/N’s breath hitched. “Wait—you mean you’re not going to be away the whole time?”
He shook his head. “No. I’ll have to work during the day, but I’ll be home at night. We’ll still see each other.”
The tension in her chest loosened slightly, and she exhaled a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “Why didn’t you lead with that?” she asked, lightly smacking his arm.
Wonwoo chuckled, the warmth returning to his eyes. “I figured you’d still be mad at me.”
“I am,” she admitted, but the weight of her earlier anger was fading. “But at least now I know I won’t have to go two years without seeing you.”
A smirk played on her lips as she tilted her head. “And hey… at least I’ll get to see you in a uniform. Might be kinda hot.”
Wonwoo rolled his eyes, but the corners of his lips curled into an amused smile. “Of course that’s where your mind goes.”
She grinned. “Gotta find a silver lining somewhere.”
The weight in her chest didn’t disappear entirely, but as he held her close, she let herself believe in his words. Even if goodbye was inevitable, at least they had this moment. Together.
#seventeen#seventeen x reader#seventeen x y/n#svt fanfic#svt x reader#svt x y/n#seventeen fanfic#svt fluff#svt angst#seventeen angst#seventeen fluff#wonwoo x you#svt wonwoo#wonwoo x reader#seventeen wonwoo#jeon wonwoo#wonwoo#wonwoo x y/n#wonwoo fluff#wonwoo angst
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if only for a night

pairing: padmé amidala x anakin skywalker x fem!reader
warnings: 18+, polyamorous relationship, sexual content (ffm). not proofread bc i overthink <3
a/n: this was shorter and sluttier than intended...i actually took months to finish this....anyway!!! enjoy!!!!<3
inspo credits to @bimbo-baggins17 <3 you made me realize i could absolutely post this :)
the gilded elegance of the senate meeting room felt like a dramatic contrast to the sterile meeting areas the council seemed to favor. you’d been trying to focus on anything but the ethereal beauty of the woman in front of you, senator padmé amidala. she was really impressive…… with a wonderful taste in windows, you thought to yourself. you’d (really) tried your best to listen to the discussion occurring but found yourself drifting into a daydream. finally, master windu suggested beginning preparing a celebration that was to be thrown later. you’d practically shot out of your seat- anything to regain the sense of control you 're supposed to have instilled into your being. (maybe that’s why you and anakin got along so well)
of course the jedi goodbyes had begun, pleasantries engaged back and forth until obi wan finally put you out of your misery. accomplishing this by dragging you and anakin out, or (rather) trying to persuade the two of you to join in. padmé was talking about the celebration as she finally made her way over to the three of you, catching you first.
“and y/n, you’ll be there?” her voice had a slight hopefulness to it as her soft amber eyes met yours. “you’ll join anakin and me, won’t you?” the last part was low enough for only your ears to catch as she grazed her forearm against yours. her perfectly glossed lips pressed up into a smile as she placed her hand on the small of your back to lead you toward anakin. it was as if she’d electrocuted you, excitement trickled through every nerve in your body as you approached.
anakin’s gaze shifted to something less friendly and more…playful as you two approached. his grin widened and his body language softened, welcoming you and padmé into his personal space. “we were hoping you’d join us?”
“oh- of course” you managed to get out, flustered by the attention from the hottest couple in the galaxy. “i would love to.”
-
“you’ll join anakin and me, won’t you?” padmé’s question had gripped your mind since it left her lips. would you join them? it was risky, taboo, maybe even wrong. of course you would.
your mind seemed to be elsewhere while you laid out a dress from your closet, running your fingers along the silky fabric. deciding to put it on, slipping it onto your figure, you turned to the mirror. a smile crept upon your face as you admired the dress and its delicately embroidered lace details. it was rather flattering in the way it ruched and flowed in all the right places- it had been a birthday gift from padmé years ago. the color matched the sea foam green waters of naboo and brought fond memories of your youth along with it. fleeting moments of confessions in castle corridors and years of forbidden longing.
-
you’d managed to make it to the celebration, eyes scanning the crowd of jedi for a set of more familiar faces. as you did, a metallic hand placed itself on your lower back. anakin smiled down at you, eyes traveling over your body.
“care to grab a drink?” his signature smile graced his face. “padmé will be here soon.”
you followed him to the bar, his hand sitting comfortably on your waist. you took a seat next to him before he ordered.
“two of my usuals.” he smiled, holding up two fingers. “thank you.”
you shrugged as the drinks arrived, hoping his taste in alcohol was as decent as his taste in women. you held the glass up to your lips before taking a sip.
you grimaced “oh stars- anakin, what was that…. jet juice?” his lips upturned in amusement. “not a fan?” he mused, wiping at the droplet that fell from your lip.
“anakin, stop tormenting the poor girl,” padmé’s amused voice called as she approached, her figure resting gently against the bar counter. “you’ll scare her away.”
-
“you sure?” padmé asked again as anakin’s teeth grazed your collarbone, intrusive thoughts winning as he sunk his teeth into the flesh. eliciting a yelp from you, swallowed by padmé’s kiss.
“never been so sure about anything.” you pulled back mumbling against her lips. switching to suck slightly on her bottom lip as you reconnected.
anakin’s deft fingers slipped under your dress straps, urging it off. he gawked for a second, marveling at the sight of your nipples hardening against the cool air mixed with the aching in your core. mischief crossed his face as he attached himself to one of the nubs, licking a stripe then biting and repeating. your hands were searching for his hair as padmé slipped her tongue into your mouth. anakin tugged at the perked flesh, eliciting a moan that was straight of a holopad midnight porno from your lips. desperate for relief, your hips bucked, getting the message, anakin shoved his knee between your legs to part them. staring at you like he was going to consume you, he used his metal arm to bunch your dress up to your stomach, his fingers lightly grazing over the soaked fabric of your panties.
“oh padmé, come look at this.” anakin grinned, looking at his wife. “she’s fucking soaked.”
padmé smiled widely, “we’ll take care of you, y/n. won’t we ani?” anakin nodded in agreement.
before you knew it padmé had her hips positioned over your face, your mouth watering at the sight. anakin aligned himself with your dripping sex, reaching to grip your hips as he began to sink his length in. holy shit. you could die right here right now. whining almost pathetically as he sunk in, your mind went blank only brought back to reality when you remembered the brunette above you. padmé let out a shaky moan as your breath fanned on her pussy. without warning you began, licking a fat stripe from her clit to her entrance and back.
“maker mae, you taste fucking divine.” you mumbled into her, flattening and curling your tongue as she began rocking her hips.
anakin watched, his dick growing impossibly harder at the sight of you devouring his wife. he removed a hand from your hips to rub your clit, to prepare he brought his fingers to padmé’s lips to wet them. you involuntarily clenched when you heard her mouth release his fingers with a pop. the mental image of what you heard was enough to make your eyes roll. anakin had set a brutal pace after entering you, the squelching of how wet you were would be embarrassing if you didn’t feel so wanted.
“oh she liked that.” anakin chuckled, shooting padmé a cocky grin. “gripping me like a fucking vice.”
padmé’s grip on your hair combined with anakin’s grip on your hips had you reeling, no wet dream or dirty fantasy could amount to the real thing. you’d gotten off to the fantasy more times than you could count. you were here, padmé’s wetness dripping down your chin and anakin’s dick so far in you, your brain hurt.
you worked at padmé’s pussy, sucking on her puffed clit before tongue fucking her and repeating. she was on the brink of tears with how fucking close she was, all she wanted was to see you fall apart on anakin.
“y/n.” she warned, “y/n im close,” her hips were slowing but she was trying. you moved your hands to her thighs, bringing her impossibly closer to your mouth. moans from how close anakin had you were spilling into her.
“me too.” you mumbled, nose bumping her clit over and over. with a cry she came, releasing on your tongue. you let her ride it out, peppering kisses to her thighs.
anakin was fully slamming in and out of you, the heaviness of his balls, slapping against your pussy. you had your nails dug into padmé’s thighs, still lapping at her when your orgasm hit you. white hot pleasure sent you collapsing into the bed, completely limp as anakin fucked you through it.
as you recovered, padmé held your face in her hands, peppering kisses against your face. anakin sighed, breaking you out of your haze. he was still painfully hard, his tip angry and leaking.
“oh ani.” you sighed, rolling over onto your stomach, “should we help him?” you turned to padmé. she grinned, gripping his length in her hand, looking towards you.
“spit on it.” she said, “please y/n.” anakin answered , looking down at you with furrowed eyebrows and eyes watering. who were you to deny him?
with a grin, you spit into padme’s hand, before lowering yourself to play with his balls. with a smile graced upon your swollen lips you grinned up at him. he looked ethereal, his curly brunette hair sticking to his forehead with sweat and his lip pulled between his teeth. padme worked his cock.
"switch" he panted, "want to fuck your face." he grabbed your chin.
with your pupils blown and drool pooling in your mouth, you obliged. you relaxed your throat the best you could, gagging as you tried to take all of him. he make a makeshift ponytail with your hair, his balls slapping your face as he fucked your throat. his hips started to stutter as padmé kissed him, the lewd noises of their makeout make your thighs clench together. you pulled out all the stops, gagging, drooling and moaning all around him. you knew you had him when he pushed you to the base of his cock, the coarse hairs tickling your face. he came with a cry, spilling down your throat.
you eased off him, resting back on your heels to take a second to catch your breath. padmé pulled you up to her, "you gonna share?" holy fuck, of course you would. you tapped her cheek signaling for her to open up before making a show of spitting his cum into her mouth.
anakin growled. his eyes wide and his mouth agape. he really was the chosen one. as if it couldn’t get any better, padmè lowered her face back to yours spitting it into your mouth. “swallow.” she said, hand gripping your chin.
anakin pulled you into them until you were a pile of limbs, soft kisses being peppered along your skin. “you were great baby.” he said, nuzzling his face into your neck. “so good for us.” padmé agreed, kissing the tip of your nose.
it was nice to be theirs, if only for a night.
#anakin skywalker smut#anakin skywalker#anakin skywalker x reader#anakin x reader#padme amidala smut#padme amidala x reader
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