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#I had mini heart attacks writing this
cathrrrine · 9 months
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y/n: heads up! *tosses something in the air*
steve: *catches it* what is this?
steve:
steve: THIS IS A GRENADE?!???
y/n: calm down, there’s no reason for you to freak out
y/n: *walks over and pulls the pin*
y/n: see? now you have a reason
steve: HOW ARE YOU NOT BEHIND BARS?!?!
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uravichii · 2 years
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bro i came across your physical intimacy fic and i was like this sounds like a masterpiece that is very familiar to me i have seen this writing style before ... TASIKAW PALA LMAOAOAOAO YOUUUU always serving d best fr 🤞🤞🤞
RIS WTF SJAHDKWJOWKSKAKSJS HOY I MISSED U SO MUCH 😭😭😭😭😭 HOW TF ARE UUUU
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bubblegum-snowdrop · 2 years
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YES. like i actually get excited when i see a voice actor i like in something. (for example, i totally fangirl when cristina vee or sungwon cho voices in something) but whenever i see a celeb in a movie that isnt sandra bullock i just go sorta numb. Like if illumination made a movie and cast cristina vee, sungwon cho, cameron bowen, zeno robinson, kellen goff etc etc i would literally not shut up ab it. How hard is it to not slap a celeb voice. Get a well known VA and most of the people on the internet will see it, the acting will be good, and itll probably vost them less too.
YESSSS EXACTLY OMG
Plus those actors have been here and know the business- honestly the only actor names I know are VAs like 99% of the time. And the only celebrities outside of that I know are usually Canadian [because we maple syrup folk take pride in that lmao]. Plus we all know that those people would do a great job!!!!
People got hyped hearing Alejandro Saab was going to voice Cyno because we know him, know his work and know he does good, and people wanted Charles Martinet for the same reason;;;; like the second my brother and I saw Chris Pratt there we both said "uh oh" and were actually kinda pissed. It would have just been such a great marketing move to stick with their guy!!! The dude who just IS Mario anyway!
Also Chris Pratt just sounds like himself and it's super disappointing. There's just no passion and people can see that kind of thing! That's why we love VAs out here, because they love the craft and have so much passion.
It's super sad because the movie trend lately seemed to be studios recognizing that quality content brings the big bucks, but this slips back into the soulless period I felt that cinema was in for awhile.
Then again, The Hobbit movie trilogy did make me pouty for quite awhile there, so maybe nothing changed and I'm just trying too hard to be optimistic XD either way, it was a super baffling choice from the get go. Especially with an audience so loyal who LOVES Charles' Mario. The internet loves their VAs!!!! Just give the money you would've paid Chris Pratt to the VAs you should have had and BOOM you get way better audio for every dollar spent. Which in turn means MORE money because people love it!
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imwritesometimes · 4 months
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🤞there's some screamin' laptop deals for memorial day/father's day coming up cause my laptop's been on its last leg for like over a year and its questionable if it'll run every time I boot it up
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ovaryacted · 1 month
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GUARD DOG
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─ Logan Howlett/Wolverine x fem! reader || WC: 5.0k
SYNOPSIS: On another one of your joint club outings with Wade, your boyfriend Logan stands by to make sure you enjoy your night. Once you both arrive at your apartment, he tends to your needs and helps you relax.
CONTENT/WARNINGS: MDNI/18+. NSFW. SMUT. Established Relationship. Age gap implied [Logan is his canon age, Reader is mid to late 20's]. Alcohol consumption. Kissing. Unprotected P in V. Shower sex. Fingering (f receiving). Manhandling. Biting/Marking Kink. Size Kink if you squint. Mutual fantasies of public sex. Worst!/Variant! Logan Howlett. Grumpy! Logan in public, soft! Logan in private. Wade is the third wheel who drinks for fun but can't get drunk (obvi). Descriptions of the reader's clothing (mini skirt & skimpy top). Reader is shorter than Logan in heels. Logan can pick the reader up.
A/N: Lord this was a pain in the ass to write for absolutely no reason, but I am glad it's done. Big shoutouts and thank yous to @ozarkthedog and @pedgito for reading this over and encouraging me. And also thank you to @zloshy and @studioghibelli for holding my hand and helping me out with the brainstorming process. As always, likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated. Enjoy! <3
NAVIGATION | MASTERLIST | AO3
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To this day, Logan doesn’t know why he still puts up with Wade’s shit or agrees to his antics. But he doesn’t mind doing it so long as it keeps his eccentric friend off his back and keeps you happy.
The club he was brought to was loud, the air thick with the pungent stench of weed, and he swears he could distinctly sniff out cocaine in the bathrooms, irritating his nose. Bright strobe lights strained his vision, and the obnoxious pop music vibrating through the walls was anything but pleasing to his sensitive ears. Thankfully, the bar had Jack Daniels on the shelf, enough to do the job and keep himself busy.
He raises his arm to lean against the bar, sipping away at his fourth cup of whiskey, knowing that the buzz he feels will go away as quickly as it hits him. Adept eyes scanned the club, landing on your figure as you danced to the current song.
Logan admired the sway of your hips, the mini skirt you wore riding up your thighs with every pop and swivel. The low-cut top you paired it with shifted when your arms rose to the beat change, the open back showing more than enough skin to leave to the imagination. He could taste the light sheen of sweat from your neck at a distance, amplifying your natural pheromones that elevated the perfume you sprayed on earlier.
He did what he did best. He watched. Even with his dominating presence, he was hyper-aware of the other men who stood by prowling like hawks, stalking their prey and waiting for the best moment to attack. Wade was enough to keep you safe during your joint club outings, but now that he was with you, Logan ensured you made it home every night.
You were smart and vigilant, always were before you met him. But Logan was familiar with the instinctive behavior of men, especially men like him. Ill-tempered. Selfish. Prone to arguments and have an affinity to attract trouble. He knows what they were all thinking, creating mental checklists of what tricks they’d use to guarantee you went home with them instead. Countless fantasies of their hands feeling you up, touching you in ways that Logan was allowed to, in a way only he could.
His heart thumped in his ribs at the thought. The innate possession he felt towards you flared as he impatiently wiped his hand over the dark denim of his jeans, ignoring the growing itch to claw the next fucker that thought about coming within six feet of you.
You could hold your own; you’ve told him more than enough times that he didn’t need to stand by and monitor your every move. Yet he does it without hesitation, refusing to give anyone else a chance to breathe you in or get close enough to touch what was his. 
Wade waltzes to the bar and orders another martini, glancing at Logan and contorting his neck to peek at you dancing with a blissful smile.
“Having fun, Wolvie?” he asks, grin widening as his lips envelop the thin straw in his drink, slurping it up like a refreshing cup of water. 
“You know the answer to that,” Logan mutters, finishing the rest of his amber liquid in one gulp before tapping the cup on the bar countertop and asking for a refill. The bartender flashes him a look of concern, receiving a flick of Wade’s hand and topping off the glass.
“You’re five drinks in. Quit being so fucking grumpy,” Wade sneers, detecting someone walking in their direction. “Now flip that frown upside down, Logie bear. Our girl is coming over, and I don’t need you getting your panties in a twist because you’re moody.”
Logan rolled his eyes before spotting you striding to him, standing in front of the burly man with a hazy smile. He noticed the multitude of heads that turned to follow your direction, tracking you with every step you took toward the deviant pair. A low whistle seized his attention, Logan’s head rapidly spun at the sound to find its source and nip it in the bud. The growl settling in the back of his throat simmered down once your soft hand touched his chest, grounding him to you.
“Hey, old man.” Even in heels, you still couldn’t reach him face-to-face, smirking when his thick arm wrapped around your waist to bring you closer. “Enjoyed the show?”
“The music in here fucking sucks, but I can’t complain too much,” Logan’s lips hovered over the shell of your ear, lowering his voice as he spoke. “You were my favorite part.”
“Oh, you weren’t looking at the girl in the cocktail dress? I don’t know, her dress was real short.” The corner of his mouth curled up, challenging your statement that feigned any truth. Giggling, you clutched his bicep, the alcohol loosening your tongue to speak more bluntly. You pivoted to spot Wade, who watched you both from afar in animated shock.
“Problem?”
“Sorry, honey. I just can’t stand seeing the two of you be all touchy-feely in front of me. It’s very disturbing.” Wade finished his martini, ordering a margarita and explicitly asking for a tiny umbrella. “I hate that you took my spot. Creeping in like a slut into a happy home and snatching my man away.”
Ever since Wade had introduced you to Logan almost a year ago, it had been an instant connection he got front-row seats to witness. He was excited when he finally compelled Logan to go to the club you both frequented, recalling how he raked his eyes over you when you weren’t looking. It was only a matter of time before you left the club with Logan one night, and Wade met him at the front door the following day like a disappointed parent acknowledging his walk of shame. 
All jokes aside, considering the pair he just unleashed into the world, he would believe himself to be the city’s most qualified and successful cupid.
“Can’t call me a homewrecker if there was no home to wreck, sweetie,” you shrugged, hearing Logan’s dry chuckle.
“Sure, whatever. But you should be thanking me, you know? You get to have those big, meaty hands on you all the time. Not to mention you get to fuck him and actually see his d-”
“Wilson.” Logan’s voice cut him off, causing Wade to murmur under his breath. You fronted the brunette, messing with the collar of his leather jacket.
“Don’t be mean to him. He’s right. I do have the happy privilege of fucking you all the time.” Your glossy lips hypnotized Logan, his hand kneading your rear as he caught your breathless laugh again. He’ll never fully admit it, but he’s always loved your lack of filter when you had a little bit to drink. You were funny and engaging without needing the extra boost, but something about you being openly vulgar made his blood flow south.
“That you do.” His ego blazes inside him, leaning forward to kiss you in the club for the first time that night.
You happily accepted it with a pleased hum, tasting the Jack he’d been drinking and exchanging the flavor of vodka still on your tongue. Your fingers clutched at his jacket, body pulsing with need as the alcohol in your system beelined straight to your clit. Audible gagging noises pushed you to draw away from Logan, your drunken sight landing on the culprit.
“Oh, am I interrupting you guys? I told you to give me a PDA warning next time before you start getting freaky, otherwise I’m joining,” Wade taunted, getting a scoff from you and an irritated grunt from his friend.
“How about we share another drink? Will you forgive me then, Wadey?” You flapped your lashes at him, his wrinkly skin creasing to mimic your gleeful appearance.
“Fine, but only because you know how to sweet talk me. Tequila?” Your optimistic nod motivated him to order another round of shots for the two of you to down. You felt a gentle squeeze on your arm, meeting Logan’s gaze and silent questioning. Can you handle drinking more?
“Just a few more, and we’ll go, okay?” You stroked his chin, kissing the corner of his jaw in reassurance. He asked to test your senses, only intervening to stop if you were too far gone to speak to him. Unlike him, he wants you to keep your liver intact.
“Alright. But the second he starts offering you shit to snort, we’re leaving.”
“I would do no such thing!” Wade dramatically reacts, offering two tequila shots while holding some of his own. “Besides, I don’t need our precious darling over here fucking up her pretty nose. She needs that thing to smell your bullshit from a mile away.”
With another laugh, you swallowed the shot of clear liquid, inhaling a hiss and consuming the next, sucking on the lime to reset your tastebuds. Your body warmed with a buzz from the drink, an electric shock coursing through your veins as it roused you. 
“C’mon, sugarplum, you owe me a dance.” You didn’t have time to waste as Wade dragged you to the dance floor, throwing Logan a flirty wave and joining your mutual friend. The Wolverine returned to his position, manning his post and sipping on the remaining liquid in his glass. He kept tallies on the wandering eyes that gravitate to you, fighting the urge to rip out every single one.
He’ll keep the peace for your sake. You were already his, you’ve been his ever since you took him home and made him stay the night. What more did he have to prove?
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It was nearing two in the morning when you finally decided to call it a night. By now, the heels on your feet started slipping, and your footing grew unsteady when you attempted to walk to the bathroom. You held your bearings long enough for Logan to call a cab home after buying some greasy food for you to eat, shooing Wade once he said he was stopping by Vanessa’s.
Logan’s touch was constant the entire way home, skimming your thigh and lower back in the cab, responding to every one of your little mumbles to keep you awake until you arrived at your apartment. Getting you out of the backseat was another hassle he was familiar with, aiding you to stand up straight without accidentally exposing yourself. The best solution he came up with was carrying you inside, wrapping your arms and legs around him as he held you steady and trekked inside the apartment complex.
He didn’t mind the faint squeezes of your arms or the clenches of your thighs around his waist. You were calm, safe, and happy, mindlessly humming in the crook of his neck as he eased his way through the front door. Strong arms entrapped you as the familiar walls of your bedroom filled your vision, Logan placing you on the edge of your bed with a huff of breath.
“I’m gonna get you a cup of water. Alright?” Logan’s hazel eyes met yours, taking in your feeble nod.
“Okay,” voice light and airy, you patiently waited for Logan to return as promised. Within a minute, he had a tall glass of cold water in his hand, a few ice cubes floating at the top.
“Open up. Need you to drink some of this for me.” Heeding his command, you sipped the refreshing beverage, soothing your parched throat. You got halfway down the glass before he drew the cup away, placing it on the bedside table for later.
“Let’s get these heels off now,” Logan suggested next, descending to his knees and bending his leg to raise your foot on his thigh, messing with the straps tied to your ankles.
“Yes, please. They’re fucking killing me.”
He chuckled as you wiggled your foot at him, allowing his thick fingers to unclasp the buckle that held your heels together. Peeling one of the shoes off and dropping it to the floor, he loosened the other, the heel falling to the ground with an audible thud.
Strong hands held your right foot by the ankle and gently twisted it, stretching the tendon after a long night out and doing the same to the left. You whizzed contently at the touch, the devoted rubs of his thumbs and forefingers massaging your feet after hours of dancing never failed to make you feel better. Before you started dating him, you underestimated Logan’s capacity to be affectionate, but he eventually got the hang of things once your relationship grew more steady. 
Sure, he had been alive a long time, you got that warning from Wade prior to meeting Logan. But once you cracked through that tough exterior, you developed a soft spot for the man buried under all that trauma.
“Always so nice to me yet grumpy with everyone else,” you said, running a hand through his hair as he stayed on his knees.
“You’re saying you don’t like special treatment?” he teased, the look in his eye heating your belly. He caressed your shin, drawing circles over your skin as you watched him.
“Never said that. Like it too much sometimes,” he stood up, kissing the top of your head and walking to the bathroom to wash his hands.
“Let’s take those clothes off and get you in something less skimpy.”
“Already? You didn’t tell me anything about my skimpy outfit. Thought you liked it…” you feigned a pout, and Logan raised a curious eyebrow.
“You look good, you always do. I told you that before we left.” He loomed over you, a shiver rushing down your spine when his musk surrounded you. His hands were at either side of your hips, palms resting on the mattress as he observed you.
“I like it when you get all dolled up for me.” One of his knuckles moved to graze your bare forearm, the hair on your skin rising from the goosebumps that followed. “Hate that everyone else gets to look, though.”
“You did good tonight. Didn’t claw anybody in the ribs.” You were only half joking, but you knew it wasn’t such a farfetched idea for him to do just that. All it took was one guy to come too close, and Logan’s knuckles were splitting to unsheath the blades embedded between them.
“Trust me, I was thinking it.”
“I know you were. Still happy you didn’t, so thank you for that.” You held his cheek and tenderly kissed him. “Now take my clothes off.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Logan tugged your mini skirt down your legs, tossing it to the floor. Your top was next, lifting your arms so he could pull it up from your torso, leaving your top half bare. He leaned back to take you in, raking his eyes over your uncovered figure. You were only clad in the lace black thong he noticed earlier when you were getting dressed, the thin piece of fabric doing nothing to conceal what he knew lay underneath.
“You’re staring again.” Your voice brought him to reality, a dry hum being his response.
“You don’t usually complain when I do,” he noted, growing more cocky at the uptick of the subdued tension between you.
“Because I like it when you look at me, smartass.” You held him by the fabric of the white tee hiding under his jacket, hands roaming over the expanse of his chest and stomach, messing with the metal of his belt buckle.
“Seems like you want something…” Logan hungrily watched as your legs spread wider to accommodate for his thicker ones between them, lingering to pounce on you.
“Want you to fuck me.” A rich groan tumbled out of Logan when you yanked him down for a kiss, chasing his tongue with your own and biting his bottom lip. His large hands skate over your thighs, textured fingers pinching your hip to keep you in place. Pulling his head away, he exhaled out of his nose, lightly grazing the tip of it against yours.
“Not until we shower. You smell like Wade and tequila.” He walked to the bathroom and turned on the shower, messing with the knobs to get the searing temperature you liked and coming to capture your dumbfounded expression.
“Are you fucking serious?” You shouldn’t be surprised. Though you think he was just finding more ways to get you to sober up.
“Very. I don’t need you smelling like him in bed. I want you to smell like you.”
Rising to your feet, you entered the bathroom and bent down to peel your thong off. Holding the last piece of clothing by the tip of your finger, you flung it to Logan, swaying your hips with an added flare as you stepped under the showerhead. The steaming water hit your aching body, comforting your sore legs from standing on an arch for so long. 
You heard shuffling from the other side of the glass barrier, enjoying the feel of the scalding spray as burly arms encircled your midriff, holding you loosely by the waist. Turning to face Logan, he eyed you with a softness reserved only when you were alone, your love worming its way into his cold heart and chipping away at the frozen bits and pieces over time.
“I’m surprised you haven’t melted yet from how hot this water is,” Logan jested, pressing yourself closer and gliding your fingers over his torso.
“You’ll get used to it,” you brushed his comment off, his rough fingertips coasting down your back, much softer than how he handled you in the club. “You’re the one that likes showering with me anyway.”
“Course I do, but I’ll never know how you tolerate this. You sure you aren’t the mutant here?” You lightly slapped his sternum, petting his skin with a shake of your head.
Logan maintained the scorching temperature of the shower stream as he held your chin with his forefinger and thumb, bending forward to kiss you, slow and passionate as it always was. You reached for his broad shoulders, opening your mouth to welcome his tongue, the muscle curling around yours with ease.
Maneuvering to pin you to the tiled wall, your hands ran up to the nape of his neck, driving your fingers through his wet hair as you sought more of his touch. Logan parted from you, leaving a trail of kisses along your jaw and neck, biting at the skin. Your breathing grew more sporadic, desire surging through you and flourishing between your thighs.
“Logan, please,” you were already begging for more, and he hadn’t done anything prevalent yet. Even with the alcohol slowly ebbing away, your arousal intensified, and a desperate craving for his attention overwhelmed you.
“What do you need? Tell me, sweetheart,” he commanded, his tongue rolling down to your clavicle, sucking a mark into the side of your neck for you to uncover in the morning.
“Need you to touch me.” Unabashedly, you took one of his hands by the wrist, spreading your thighs to position it where you needed him most. His fingers quickly found your pussy, drenched and crying out for his touch. The tips of his pointer and middle fingers drifted up to your sensitive nub, twitching under the initial rubs he delivered.
“Yeah? Need me to make you feel good, sugar?” Logan’s ego continued to ascend as he observed the expressions on your face, your eyebrows furrowing when his digits plunged into your aching hole.
“Been like this for a while, hm?” The smooth timbre of his voice spurred you on, directing his free hand to hold the bottom of your thigh, raising it to his hip and keeping it in place.
“Since you kissed me in the club.” Your confession fell over his lips, nails digging into his shoulder blades, leaving crescent indents in their wake. “Wanted you to fuck me in the bathroom.”
A deep moan rumbled in Logan’s chest at your words, crooking his fingers into that spot tucked at the roof of your entrance. You whined loudly at the touch, tossing your head back against the tile behind you and clenching hard around his thick digits.
“Next time. All you gotta do is bring me there, and I’ll fuck you over the sink.”
You couldn’t help but envision what it would be like to follow through on Logan’s proposal. How he’d pursue the imprint of your natural scent, mixing in with the aroma of your perfume that emanated off of you in waves. His lips would make a path over your shoulder and neck, leaving teeth marks for the club members to see after he was done with you. His fingers would wrap around your throat as he fucked you against the counter of the bathroom sink, forcing you to look at your reflection as you took him from behind.
Mascara streaked down your cheeks in dark smudges, your lip gloss fading and leaving a ring on the base of his cock from when you sucked him off, his cum dribbling down your thighs while he grabs your torn underwear and stuffs them into his pocket. And once you’ve both had your fun, you’d take his hand and stroll out of the bathroom with a smile, proudly flaunting Logan’s claim for everyone to acknowledge who you belonged to.
He was focused on the dives of his fingers inside your cunt, concentrated pulses to your g-spot and sneakily adding his thumb to the mix to press into your clit. Your half-lidded eyes glanced at him, the tell-tale signs of your upcoming orgasm creeping up and building in your gut. Logan could sense it too, the increase in your heart rate and the pulsing of your walls signaled that you were getting close, desperately seeking that release he could give you.
“I know you’re close.” He picked up the pace of his fingers, punctuating his thrusts to work in a third digit to stretch you out properly, the circles on your bundle of nerves becoming relentless. “Come for me, darlin’. C’mon, let me feel it.”
Trained like a dog to obey his command, your climax hit you with force, the strained rope of tension snapping and shooting relief up your spine. Gripping at the nape of his neck, the moan you emitted resounded through the bathroom as your thighs quivered from Logan’s ministrations. The slick walls of your pussy convulsed around him, giving you a few more pumps with his fingers before he took them out, watching in a daze as he licked them to taste your slick with a satisfied grumble.
“Always taste so damn sweet,” Logan remarked, letting you taste yourself on his tongue with another kiss. The hard length of his cock twitched over your lower belly, the ache of being empty overwhelming your senses.
“You can take a little more right, princess?” It was a genuine question, analyzing your energy levels after a long night out. But you craved to feel Logan the best way you knew how, nodding your head at the thought of feeling him deep inside where he belonged.
“Want you, please,” you implored, large hands grabbing the underside of your thighs to lift you from the ground, Logan’s strong hold keeping you upright on the wall. The tip of his cock bumped against your opening, your arms wrapping around his neck as he positioned himself.
“Hold on to me.” You did as he said, mewling in pleasure as he sank into your waiting cunt.
You welcomed him without resistance, his legs and forearms flexing to hold you up as he drove his hips forward until he was down to the hilt. A whimper wormed its way out of your mouth once Logan was tucked snug inside you, the tip of him hitting depths only he could reach. Your eyes fluttered closed at the feel of him, legs wound tighter as you adjusted to him.
“That’s it. Exactly where I’m supposed to be,” Logan confirmed with a grin, pressing his forehead to yours and breathing you in. He concentrated on the way your wet heat enveloped him so well, pussy molded to take him like that was your purpose.
Leaning more into your embrace, he began to move, shifting his hips to dive into you just the way you liked. Deep and even thrusts sent you reeling into ecstasy, your toes coiling as he persisted in his consistent pistoning.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you cried out at his movements, the upright position Logan had you in propelled the tip of his cock to hit the roof of your entrance with rehearsed accuracy. Your clit came in contact with the hair at the base of his length, the delicious friction adding to the amplified sensations.
“Feel so good. Fucking warm and wet. Shit.” He rambled against your throat, both of his big hands cupping your ass and keeping you secure as he fucked up into you.
Logan used his strength to bounce you on top of him in time with his jabs, heavy balls smacking into you as he picked up the pace and chased his release. You tightened again, nails biting into the taut skin of his shoulders and raking down, drawing a noisy groan out of the man from the pain. His skin reddened with the streaks you left behind, mending together as his regenerative powers healed him in seconds, removing any evidence of your marks.
“Logan, need it, need you. Please.” He understood what you were asking for, the pounding of his hips getting sloppier on your instruction. “Want you to fill me up…”
“Cum again for me and I will. Fill your pussy up the way you need.”
He wasn’t asking. Your deft fingers went up to his hair and gave him a harsh yank, sinking your teeth into his bottom lip, meshing your mouth with his. Logan panted a breath and followed with a hiss at the slight ache, the urge to fill you up awakening the most primal parts of him.
Your climax washed over you abruptly, mouth positioned in a silent scream as you unravel underneath Logan. He whispered words of praise in your ear, prolonging your orgasm for as long as he could. Your walls flexed and spasmed around him, soft cries morphing into helpless whimpers with every fierce buck of his wide hips. Molten pleasure surged down his back, and his hands sought purchase on your body, squeezing hard enough to bruise. 
“Fuck,” Logan rasped into your skin, stifling his growl with a sharp bite to your neck. The blunt ends of his teeth dug into you, hard enough to tear at your flesh that bloomed into bright red and will fade to purple.
With a few more lunges, he burrowed himself deep inside, painting your walls with his spend and claiming you like he always has. Your legs tensed around his abdomen, making sure to keep him safely tucked and not let a single drop go to waste. You slumped against him, head lolling forward to rest on his shoulder as he littered soft kisses over the marks he left behind in a muted apology. 
“Better now?” he asked, carefully bringing you to stand on the ground, keeping his hold on your hips in case your wobbly legs gave out.
“Mhm. Much better.” You nodded, offering him a kiss and enjoying the aftermath of your respective highs. The carnal appetite you felt earlier dimmed down to manageable levels now that you got what you wanted.
“Good,” Logan reciprocated your delicate kisses, doing what he could to calm and prep you for bed. He knows you could theoretically go for another round, but your exhaustion was palpable. He’d have to make up for it in the morning.
He took your loofah and body wash, pouring the liquid over the net fabric and scrubbing at your figure. He washed you meticulously, rinsing off the suds, and you returned the favor by cleansing him too. Your scents interlaced together as you washed each other, a smile sneaking up on Logan’s face at the realization.
After the shower, Logan did the honors of drying you off, rubbing you down with lotion, and grabbing a baggy dark T-shirt to dress you in. You brushed your teeth as he searched for his sweatpants, alternating between using the sink until you were both ready to end your night.
You eased into the mattress first, tugging the duvet to the side for Logan to follow you and lay on his back. Instinctively, you cuddled into his side once he made room for you, throwing an arm across his chest and lifting your leg to bend comfortably over his thigh.
“You’re gonna make me breakfast, right?” you questioned sleepily over his shoulder, familiar with the post-coitus routine he established in your relationship. In a few hours, you’ll find him making pancakes in the kitchen, or he’ll be under the sheets between your legs again. Either way, it’ll be a good start to your day so long as he’s the first thing you see when the sun beams through the bedroom window.
“I’ll think about it.” Jabbing at his ribs in mock retaliation, you closed your eyes and listened to the distant sounds of the city filling the room, soothing you to sleep.
“Love you, baby. “ You’ll doze off before you hear his reply, nuzzling into his body and chasing the stability and comfort of your personal weighted blanket and heater.
He waited until your breathing evened out and your heart rate leveled, beating on par with his. Giving you a side glance, you were fast asleep, embracing Logan like a teddy bear. Pressing one final kiss to your forehead, he watched you sleep for a while longer, stroking your backbone and holding you close.
“Love you too, sweetheart.”
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Dividers by @saradika-graphics.
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astrophileous · 1 year
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A Well-Kept Secret
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader
Synopsis: While working on a case in D.C., Spencer didn't expect to hear a familiar name being mentioned as the sole surviving witness. Or, in which the team discovers Spencer's well-kept secret.
Warning(s): established secret relationship, mentions and/or depictions of death/physical violence/gun violence/injury/attack, signs of trauma, survivor's guilt, curse words, hurt/comfort, nudity but it's not sexual, allusions to sexy times, mentions/implied alcohol consumption
Word Count: 5900-ish
Author's Note: hiya! I decided to write this lil piece after seeing the fic challenge posted by @imagining-in-the-margins abt the family/found family trope. I had a lotta fun writing this one and I think it's got potential to be something more. So pls comment or message me if you wanna see me exploring with this idea (either turning it into a series of connected one-shots or multi-parters). Don't forget to like/comment/reblog and give me a follow :) I hope you enjoy! 💞
Criminal Minds Masterlist
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When Hotch had notified the team to haul their asses up and drove all the way to D.C., Spencer never expected that it would also entail him having to suffer through a mini heart attack.
The series of attacks around D.C. had been dominating the 6 PM news segments in the entire country. What was initially perceived as a suspected sequence of robberies gone wrong--since the first two targets to have been hit were a bank and a prestigious auction house--soon turned into a nationwide panic as people realized that there was a bigger game at play.
After the third attack was found to have occurred in the headquarters of one of the top, up-and-coming renewable energy startups in the states, the D.C. police finally started to entertain the idea that perhaps they hadn't been dealing with their usual petty robbers at all.
And naturally, that was when the BAU had been called in.
As soon as the team entered the Metropolitan PD bullpen, they were struck with the smell of panic and the sight of chaos.
"Agent Hotchner?" A middle-aged man in a gray shirt and blue tie appeared in front of them. "My name is Detective Mills, we spoke on the phone."
"Of course, Detective." Hotch shook the other man's hand. "This is my team. Agent Prentiss, Jareau, and Dr. Reid. I have two others already at the latest crime scene. What can you tell us so far?"
"As you can see--" Detective Mills gestured towards the frenzied scene behind him, "--the entire D.C. area is going haywire after news broke out about yesterday's attack. The public is demanding the city to be put on lockdown, and I'm getting pressure from above as well. We received information that nearly half the city has called in sick today."
"A classic response to mass paranoia," Spencer noted.
"Well, paranoia or not, I just want to start getting some answers." Detective Mills began to lead the team further into the bullpen. "I have every pair of hands I could spare in this. If they aren't out there chasing leads, they're here interviewing the victims, friends, and families."
"Any luck so far?" Emily asked.
"Nothing more than what you've probably seen in the files."
Detective Mills pushed open the door to an office in the corner, away from the havoc in the center of the station.
"Lieutenant Jeffreys retired a couple of weeks ago. The lucky bastard." Detective Mills scoffed jokingly. "It's the most decent space I can spare at the moment. Think you'll be fine in here?"
"It's more than enough, Detective. Thank you," Hotch replied.
"What about the witnesses from yesterday's attack? Have you had the chance to interview them?" JJ asked as the rest of the team started setting up.
"Some of my men are with them right now. But I doubt they'll have anything useful. Just like the other two cases, the attack happened while most of the office was out. The rest left behind were DOA at the latest scene."
"They're rapidly devolving," Spencer pondered out loud as he skimmed over the case files. "They went from killing a non-compliant security guard during the first attack to executing almost every witness in the last one."
JJ raised an eyebrow. "Almost?"
"It says here there is one survivor." Spencer showed the word he had underlined in the case overview to JJ.
"Yes, there is," Detective Mills confirmed. "I had one of my men talk to her. There's not much she could give us. Thing is, she wasn't even supposed to be there."
"What do you mean?" Emily asked.
"She didn't work in that office. She was a consultant who just happened to be visiting. Poor girl's pretty shaken up. She hid in a supply closet the entire time. She was the one who found the bodies and called 911."
"So, the perpetrators never checked the rooms while they were holding the victims hostage?" Hotch questioned.
"Not according to her statement, no. See, I thought it weird myself. Do you have any idea why?"
"Not sure." Hotch hummed, deep in thought. "Perhaps our UnSubs didn't think to check because they didn't know someone was in there. Detective, you said all of the victims were the only employees of the company who didn't attend the event downtown, correct?"
"Yeah, they were the only ones who weren't listed as attendees. Why? Do you think those people were specifically targeted?"
"Unfortunately, we can't rule out anything yet this early in the investigation," Hotch said. "We need to talk to the witnesses to know more. JJ?"
"On it." JJ nodded. "What can you tell us about yesterday's sole survivor, Detective?"
"Not much. I didn't interview her personally, one of my men did. She works at a consulting engineering firm in town," Detective Mills replied. "I believe her name is... what is it called?"
When Detective Mills mentioned the name, Spencer's heart instantly crashed inside of its cage.
"What?" His hand had stopped scribbling on the board. In a matter of miliseconds, Spencer had crossed the room towards the doorway where Detective Mills was standing. "What did you say her name was?"
Dumbfounded, the detective stared at a dread-stricken Spencer before spelling out the name once more.
"Why? What's wrong?" Detective Mills asked in confusion.
JJ touched Spencer's shoulder. "Hey, you okay?"
But Spencer, either too alarmed or merely choosing not to acknowledge both questions, asked instead, "Where is she? I need to see her."
"In the waiting room by the pantry--"
Spencer didn't even wait for Detective Mills to form his complete thought before dashing out. JJ exchanged a glance with Emily following Spencer's sudden exit, perplexed by his odd turn of behavior.
"I'll go get him," JJ announced before leaving the room, chasing after a flurry of wavy hair and a wool-knitted purple vest sprinting across the bullpen.
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The roaring commotion inside the station was almost loud enough to rival the intensity of your racing thoughts.
Almost.
At this point, you didn't think there was anything you could do anymore. The vivid images from yesterday's attack were playing continuously in your head. There was nothing you could do to stop them.
Rubbing your eyes from exhaustion, you mourned the loss of sleep that you failed to get the previous night. As if the waking nightmares weren't torment enough, the images had somehow translated even more cruelly into your subconscious. You could barely close your eyes for three seconds without feeling like you had been brought back to that place.
Cold, cramped, and alone. Fearing for your life in the tiny supply closet that smelled more like death than bleach.
At the sound of the door opening, you quickly turned around in your seat to hide your face away from prying eyes. The last thing you needed at that moment was having a complete stranger seeing you fall apart in the middle of a police station.
But when the voice came carrying the sound of your name, it wasn't the voice of a complete stranger you had heard. It was a voice you knew more than you probably knew your own. A voice you loved and a voice you had longed to hear for the past gruesome twenty-four hours.
"Spencer?" You turned back towards the door, seeing the face you adored most in the whole world staring back at you.
"Sweetheart."
At the speed of a lightning, Spencer dropped to his knees in front of you and gathered your broken little pieces into his arms.
Spencer's touch was everywhere. Your hair, your neck, your shoulders. As if he was checking whether you were real. That you were actually there inside his arms, and you were not a simple imagination that his mind had conjured up.
Surrounded by the safety of his embrace, you could feel the shattered pieces of yourself beginning to mend once more.
"Spencer," you uttered his name again as you pulled away, still in disbelief that he was physically there with you.
"I'm here," he promised you as he cupped your face gently.
"Spencer, what are you... How..."
"My team is working your case. We arrived half an hour ago," he explained simply. "Sunshine, why didn't you tell me? I thought you were still in Alaska?"
You had previously apprised Spencer that you would be hard to reach during your trip since you would be spending most of your time at the power plant site where cellphone receptions were scarce. So when an entire day went by without him ever hearing from you, Spencer didn't have any reason to be worried.
Never in a million years would he have ever predicted that you'd be caught in the middle of a hostage situation.
That thought alone caused Spencer to squeeze your hand a little tighter than usual.
"I'm sorry, Spence," you said sincerely. "My trip ended earlier than planned. I arrived back yesterday morning. I actually wanted to surprise you last night. After yesterday's... incident, I wanted to call you, but my phone was shot--"
"Wait, what? You were shot?"
"No! No, baby. Not me. Just my phone," you assured him. "But that's why I couldn't call. I did attempt you once using this station's phone, but it went straight to voicemail."
At the new piece of information, the colors immediately drained from Spencer's face.
"That was you? Fuck. I didn't--I didn't know. I rejected the call because I didn't know it was you."
"Hey." You stopped his guilty rambling with a hand to his cheek. "It's okay. I'm okay. I'm just glad you're here."
And then, because Spencer needed to make sure that you really were okay, he pulled you back into his arms and held you even tighter this time.
"Uh, Spence?"
The sound in the doorway snapped you both out of your mutual reverie. You looked up to see a blonde woman there, staring in an equal mixture of shock and confusion at the sight in front of her.
Spencer begrudgingly untangled himself from your arms before getting up to approach her.
"JJ, do you mind if I do the cognitive for this one?" Spencer asked.
The woman--JJ-- shifted her eyes a few times between you and Spencer. "Um, of course. I'll just go and inform Hotch. Tell us if you need anything."
After JJ's departure, Spencer closed the door again to award you both a much needed privacy.
He grabbed a wooden chair from the corner and dragged it before sitting down right in front of you.
"I need to start the interview now, sweetheart. Think you're up for it?"
Your whole body went rigid for a matter of seconds before you forced it to restart again. It was gone as soon as it came, but Spencer noticed it just the same.
"Look at me," Spencer ordered softly, using his delicate finger to nudge your face up until he was looking straight into your eyes. "I know it's scary. I don't want you to have to relive yesterday either, but it will help us catch whoever did this."
"I've told the police everything I knew yesterday. I was hiding the entire time." Like a coward. "I didn't see anything. I don't have anything else that could help you."
"I know that, sunshine. But as I've told you before, our method is slightly different. We won't be just focusing on what you saw, but also what you smelled, or maybe even heard." Spencer took your hands then, squeezing affectionately. "I'll be here with you the entire time."
The nod you gave him was hesitant, but it was a start nonetheless. You listened intently to Spencer's words and closed your eyes just as he had instructed.
"We'll start at the beginning," you heard him say. "Why don't you tell me why you went there yesterday?"
"I, uh, received a call from my friend, Nick, after my plane landed. We had been communicating back and forth since his company seeked my consultation for one of their upcoming projects," you began. "I wasn't even supposed to work because I had requested the day off. But Nick said it didn't have to be a formal meeting, so I agreed to meet him."
"Tell me what you remember after arriving at the office."
Your mind traveled back to that specific time one day prior. You remembered walking into the place and seeing its unusual state of vacancy even though there was still a good half an hour left before lunchtime.
"I just assumed everyone had gone to lunch earlier and shrugged it off," you recalled.
Spencer nodded his head. "Did anything else strike you as out of the ordinary?"
"No? I don't... I don't know. It was only my second time being there, I'm not sure what was normal and what wasn't."
"Okay. That's okay. You're doing good so far, sweetheart," Spencer quickly interjected, trying to get you to calm down before your distress could turn into a full-blown panic. "Now, what did you do next?"
"I followed Nick into his office."
Nick was keeping his promise true. It hadn't felt like a formal meeting, just two old college buddies reminiscing about the past and discussing possibilities of the future that, of course, included the company's upcoming project which you would be working on with him.
"I excused myself to the bathroom at some point," you added. "When I first heard the commotion, I thought nothing of it. It's like the idea that a group full of armed men had taken over the building didn't even cross my mind. I mean, why would it? I was on my way back to Nick's office when I saw them."
You recalled turning a corner after exiting the bathroom only to see those figures carrying machine guns and shouting at everyone to get on their knees or put their hands above their heads. You remembered sprinting the way you had come from and opening the first door you could reach that just happened to be the supply closet.
"Let's go back to the moment you saw them," Spencer urged gently. "How many people were there? Do you remember any conspicuous detail? Maybe one of them had tattoos or spoke with an accent. Anything that distinguished them."
Taking a deep breath, you tried replaying those crucial seconds slowly in your head.
"There were four of them. I couldn't see much. They were all wearing identical black clothes."
Suddenly, an unexpected piece of memory rushed to the front of your mind. You opened your eyes in shock, meeting Spencer's curious gaze that had been kept intently on you the entire time.
"I think at least one of them is a woman," you told him.
Spencer's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Are you sure?"
"One of the guys said something about... fucking this place up. And then she laughed. I heard her. It was definitely a female laugh."
"Good. That's good."
"Yeah? Do you think it'll help?"
Spencer nodded assuredly, bringing his hand to leave calming strokes on your head. "I know it will. You've done a great job, sweetheart. I'm proud of you."
The praise Spencer gave eased the tension in your shoulders. As if having been granted fresh air after decades of confinement, you were finally able to let yourself breathe again.
Spencer continued his loving strokes on your head. Little by little, the weight of his touch melted the resolve you had built into a pathetic puddle on the floor. Without its mental shield protecting you, your tears sped forward, gathering in your eyes until they spilled on the vast path down your cheeks.
"Hey, hey." Spencer's voice was laden with panic after seeing you start to cry. "Sunshine, what is it? What's wrong? Talk to me."
"I-I just... God." You struggled to get the words out in between sobs. "I'm a coward, Spencer."
"What?"
"All of those people... They died because I was a fucking coward."
Your admission tore into the air before stabbing Spencer right through his chest.
"Sweetheart, you know that's not true."
"But it is!" you cried out, pulling away from Spencer's grounding hold around your shaking body in favor of your own arms. "I was a coward. I ran and hid because I was too scared to die. Too scared to fight. If I had just tried a little harder, I could've called for help. That way, maybe all of those people wouldn't... And Nick wouldn't..."
A haunting image flashed behind your eyes. The image of Nick's limp and lifeless body on the floor, among those of the others. You remembered crying next to him, punching his chest, body, and arm despite having seen the gunshot wound on his forehead. It took you another five minutes before you eventually managed to gather yourself together, found a phone, and dialed 911.
Not that it made any difference. They were all already dead.
Spencer could hear his heart breaking at the sight of you curling into yourself, recoiling from his touch because you somehow believed you didn't deserve his affection at that moment. If Spencer could just transfer all of your pain towards him, he would. Seeing you beat yourself up that way over something that happened and was done to you was the worst kind of torture he ever had to endure in life.
And Spencer had been through more kinds of torture than the general population in the world.
Deciding that he had seen enough of your self-deprecating torment, he reclaimed your hands inside of his palms and urged you to look at him.
"Are you hearing yourself right now?" Spencer asked incredulously. "How can you even think that way? Sweetheart, what happened to those people, to Nick, it is not your fault."
"B-but, if I hadn't run away--"
"Then you would've died, too," he cut you off. "Sunshine, there were four of them with machine guns. No one stood a single chance against them. Those people were there to kill. There was nothing you could've done."
It was a hard pill to swallow, but Spencer needed you to hear it.
He needed you to know the truth no matter how unacceptable it was.
"If you hadn't hid from them, we would've found seven bodies there instead of six. And I--" Spencer took a shuddering breath, "--I would've lost you."
Your shoulders deflated at his revelation. "Spence--"
"So please--" he searched your eyes then, using his thumb to sweep away the remaining tears under your eyes, "--stop holding yourself accountable. I promise I will do everything I can to find those people and make them pay for what they did."
Spencer's vow triggered a new wave of tears that compelled you to sink into his awaiting arms. He let you stay there until you had cried your tears dry. It was something he also secretly needed for himself after suffering through the short-lived horror over the mention of your name in relation to the heinous case. He just needed to make sure that you were okay.
A few minutes passed by with you in his arms. Eventually, Spencer had to tear himself away to finish his job. He asked you to wait as he wrapped up the transcript of your cognitive interview, along with his professional report over it.
"I need to run somewhere real quick. I promise to be back in a couple of hours," he notified JJ as he handed her the interview report. "Tell Hotch for me? Thanks."
Without waiting for his friend's reply, Spencer rushed back to the waiting room before leading you out to take you home.
Back at your apartment, Spencer guided you towards the direction of your bathroom as soon as you had stepped into the threshold.
"Are you trying to get me naked, Spencer?" you remarked playfully after he refused to let you take your clothes off yourself.
"Yes." The gleaming mischief in your eyes caused him to flick your nose lightly. "Just to get you ready for your bath. Get your head straight, will you?"
You scoffed at his back as he turned around to check the water temperature in the tub.
Once you were submerged safely inside, Spencer left the bathroom to give you some privacy. Meanwhile, he began rummaging through your drawers to pull out a change of clothes, a towel, and a clean sheet for your bed.
By the time you exited, Spencer had changed your bedsheets and lit one of your favorite candles on the bedside table. He asked you to sit down on the bed as he kneeled before you, helping you put on the pajamas he had picked out with little prints of sunflowers on them.
None of Spencer's touches were sexual. They swept over your skin with the care of an artist handling their most precious work. When his eyes found yours, you swore you could almost cry from the intense adoration that seemed to shine so brightly out of them.
As he guided you to lie on the bed, you were surprised to see him following suit. He got under the covers with you, pulling you close to tangle every inch of your limbs with his.
"I love you, Spencer," you admitted to his chest, heart heavy with the deep appreciation and overwhelming affection for the man beside you.
Spencer looked down at your confession, finding his favorite pair of eyes already looking earnestly at him. Instinctively, he reached for your chin with his fingers, tugging your face upward until he could capture your lips with his.
The kiss was slow. Careful. Filled with silent promises and discreet reassurances. When you both parted, Spencer didn't pull himself away. Instead, he let his forehead touch yours while his eyes stayed closed.
"Will you be here when I wake up?" you asked quietly.
"Yes, sweetheart. Now go to sleep."
Although the two of you knew his answer was a lie, you both chose to pretend otherwise. You knew Spencer still had responsibilities to fulfill, along with a promise to you that he intended to keep. You knew that when you woke up later that evening, Spencer would already be long gone, and you would be forced to bask in the traces of himself that he had left behind.
But for now, Spencer was still there, in the comfort of your bedroom, lying on the bed next to you. And that knowledge alone was good enough for you to finally drift further into the land of sleep, surrounded by the warmth of Spencer's loving embrace.
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"I'm telling you," JJ insisted, looking at her entire team minus Spencer and Hotch. "There was definitely something going on between them. Why else would he request to take over the cognitive for me?"
"Maybe he was feeling generous," Rossi deadpanned, earning an unimpressed glare from JJ.
It had been a full week since the BAU team had arrived in D.C. to investigate the series of gun attacks in the city. Just the day prior, they had successfully made their fourth arrest, bringing this case to yet another satisfying conclusion in the eye of justice.
If nothing else was amiss, they should have been on their way back to Quantico in less than an hour. In the meantime, though, JJ felt obliged to gather her team members in the middle of the bullpen to share her suspicion about a certain scene she had accidentally caught on their first day working the case.
"Pretty boy did seem more emotionally involved in this case than he usually does, though," Derek pointed out.
"Right? Right?" JJ replied almost too enthusiastically. "Come on, aren't you guys at least half as curious as I am about who this mystery girl might be? Don't you wanna try finding out who she is while we're still here?"
They all stared at each other in hesitation.
"Or, we could just ask Spencer directly and let him explain?" Emily suggested, receiving incredulous looks from the other three in response. "Yeah, you're right. What did you say her name was again?"
"I don't remember," JJ answered.
"It must be listed in the files somewhere, right?" Derek immediately sprung into action, reaching towards the scattered case files that might contain the name they were looking for.
"Just to be clear, I am not taking any part in this." Rossi sighed.
"Got it!" Derek waved the offending file in hand, giving it to JJ, who instantly began skimming over it.
"Alright. Says here that her name is..."
JJ read the name aloud when unexpectedly, an answering sound sprouted from behind them.
"Yes?"
Every single one of them turned in shock at your voice. You smiled at their wide-eyed expressions, waving your hand a little awkwardly in the air.
"You!" JJ exclaimed.
"Me?"
Emily nudged JJ in the ribs, making the blonde woman wince.
"Y-you're the witness from the startup case, right?" JJ said, trying to rectify the situation.
"That's me."
"What can we do for you, Miss?" Rossi asked, stepping forward and away from the rest of the group.
"I'm actually looking for Spencer. Do you know where he might be?"
"Spencer Reid? You know Reid?" Emily asked.
Before you had the chance to reply, the man in question came strolling into the bullpen, rambling animatedly to Hotch who was walking beside him. The moment Spencer caught sight of you, though, he immediately abandoned Hotch's side and rushed towards where you were standing.
"Hey, what are you doing here?"
"Looking for you, of course," you told him, fitting yourself easily into Spencer's side as his arm went around your waist. "Hi, Hotch."
The older man called your name in greeting. "I got your message. You wanted to talk to me?"
"I wanted to ask you--well, all of you, actually--" you glanced around at the other team members, "--if maybe you all would let me treat you to lunch? As a thank you for your hard work on the case."
Hotch nodded in response. "It's fine with me. We don't have to be back until tonight, anyway. Everyone?"
Instead of replying to your offer, Emily voiced aloud the question that was circling everyone's mind.
"You know her?" Emily looked at Hotch before dragging her eyes away towards you. "And you know him? You know each other? How?"
You gazed up at Spencer's eyes, seeing them shining with the same mirth as the one you felt dancing in your stomach.
"I guess this is supposed to be the part where I introduce myself, isn't it?" You chuckled.
Extending your palm, you shook each of their hands while telling them your name, them responding back with theirs even though you already knew who was who long before you had even met them.
"I still don't understand," JJ admitted after you finished shaking her hand. "How did you know Spencer and Hotch?"
Once again, you looked into Spencer's eyes, a question bouncing around in yours. Spencer's nod of affirmation was the only go-ahead you needed.
It's time.
"I'm Spencer's girlfriend."
"She's my wife."
You turned your head towards Spencer in shock.
In front of you, Spencer's teammates were causing an uproar.
"Wait, what?" Emily stared dumbfoundedly.
"You have a girlfriend?" Derek asked in disbelief.
"You're married?!" JJ shrieked.
"Hold on a second," Rossi interjected, holding his palms out as if to tell everyone to stand down and calm themselves. "So which one is it? Girlfriend or wife?"
And that was how you found yourself sitting in the private VIP room of your favorite restaurant in the city with some of Spencer's closest people on earth.
"That's the craziest story I've ever heard," Emily pondered in astonishment.
Rossi, Derek, and JJ were all wearing an identical look on each of their faces after hearing the story of how you and Spencer met: by drunkenly getting married in Vegas after only knowing each other for barely one night when you both weren't even twenty-two yet.
"If someone were to tell me yesterday that there's another member of this team who also went to get married while drunk in Vegas, I would have never even thought of mentioning Spencer's name," JJ mused.
At your curious expression, Spencer explained, "Rossi also got drunkenly married in Vegas to his third ex-wife,"
"Why didn't you two get a divorce?" Emily suddenly asked.
It was something that everyone who knew about your situation with Spencer had questioned at one point or another. The real answer was because you and Spencer had both been reluctant to go through the nasty and lengthy legal process of getting a divorce. Therefore, you decided to part ways without doing anything about it, vowing to only track each other down if one of you ever needed to end the bond because of another impending marriage or any other urgent matter.
But that reason alone was usually not enough to appease people's curiosity. And over the years, you and Spencer had poked fun over that particular fact by coming up with the most outrageous lie you could muster up.
"She wanted to get a divorce," Spencer fabricated smoothly. "I persuaded her otherwise because I had this inkling that someday we were gonna fall in love."
Usually, any other people would coo sweetly at Spencer's statememt.
But these weren't any other people. These people were Spencer's family in more ways except flesh and blood, and even without their profiling skills, you knew they could see right through Spencer's little deception.
"That sounds like bullshit to me. Doesn't that sound like bullshit to you?" Emily asked, turning to JJ for support.
"Yeah, that was bullshit, alright," JJ claimed vehemently, prompting an innocent-looking grin from Spencer and a series of chuckles from everyone else.
"When did you two start dating, then?" Rossi spoke up from one end of the table.
"About two years after Vegas, right?" you estimated, to which Spencer nodded in confirmation. "He strolled into my place of work while he was on a case, and then he asked me out."
Derek sat up on his seat after hearing the new information. "Wait, when was this? Why didn't I know about this?"
"The beginning of my second year in the BAU," Spencer offered. "Elle knew."
"Elle? Elle Greenway? You told Elle but not me?" Derek looked offended.
Spender shrugged nonchalantly. "Elle was assigned with me that day."
"Unbelievable." Derek slumped back down in his chair. "Penelope is gonna freak when she finds out what she missed today."
"Penelope? Oh, she already knows," you told him.
That revelation earned a collective disbelief look across the entire table.
"Yeah... I, uh," you cleared your throat, "I actually just went shopping with her two weeks ago."
"You've got to be kidding me," Emily muttered.
"You told Penelope but not me?" Derek sounded hurt as he pointed his accusatory stare at Spencer. "You even told Hotch!"
"I didn't tell Garcia. She dug through my history and found it out herself. Had to bribe her with candies and chocolates for a whole month to keep her quiet," Spencer grumbled. "And I had to tell Hotch. We needed to add her number to my emergency contact list."
Despite Spencer's concise explanation, Derek still seemed unsatisfied by the whole ordeal.
"How long have you known?" he finally decided to ask Hotch.
"A while," the man answered from his seat at the opposite end of the table from Rossi. "They even babysat Jack a few times for me."
"I don't believe this," Derek scowled. "Pretty boy's got himself a girl for the last six years, and I never knew? Outrageous."
"Technically, we've been married even longer than that," Spencer responded, as if he was unaware of the imminent glower that Derek was sending his way. "Eight years since Vegas."
"That's longer than any of my marriage," Rossi remarked before sipping his drink.
The laugh that resonated upon Rossi's little comment elicited an affectionate smile on your lips.
"So, you live in D.C., then?" JJ asked, at last stirring the conversation away from the topic of your and Spencer's secret marriage-slash-relationship.
"I do, yeah. But most of the time, I live out of my suitcase," you answered. "My firm has clients all over the country. A few overseas, as well. I'm lucky if I even get to have an entire week to sleep uninterrupted in my own bed."
Even then, you truthfully quite enjoyed the work you had to do. You didn't mind having to travel some place new every other week. In fact, you somehow believed that your constant need to travel for your job, and Spencer for his, was one of the reasons why the two of you worked so well together.
Although people might think that two adults who had to travel for a living were a recipe for a disastrous relationship, you and Spencer had so far proven otherwise. Because of your respective schedules, you could sympathize more with the other anytime they had to go somewhere urgent for work. It only made you savor every single second you spent together because of how much precious each one of them became.
The rest of lunch unraveled with the same bucket of smiles, jokes, and laughter. It felt good to finally tell the few people who meant the world in Spencer's life the truth about your relationship. It was also a huge relief to see them opening their arms and welcoming you into the family without an ounce of hesitation.
"Hotch?" Spencer called out after everyone exited the restaurant. "Will it be okay if I stay in the city for one more night?"
"As long as you promise to be back for tomorrow's briefing," Hotch reminded sternly, but the meaningful look he passed over you before he entered his vehicle spoke of a thousand things left unsaid.
"It was so nice meeting you," JJ said as she took you in her arms. "And I'm sorry again about your friend."
"Thank you. And thanks for all of your hard work in catching those guys."
"Of course, it's what we do." JJ smiled as she pulled away. "Invite me and Emily the next time you and Penelope hang out, okay?"
"Will do," you promised.
You watched as every single one of them scrambled into the two black SUVs, waving your goodbye until the cars drove out of your sight.
"I think that went well," you commented before looking up at Spencer. "Do you?"
"I think it went as well as it could."
"So--" you began, circling your arms around Spencer's neck, "--we have more than twelve hours until you're expected back at Quantico. What do you wanna do?"
Spencer nudged your nose with his. "I can think of a few activities we can partake in."
"Really?"
"Really."
Just as he was a hairbreadth away from pressing his lips to yours, you suddenly tore yourself out of Spencer's arms.
"Like getting some frozen yogurts?" you asked giddily, smirking at the dumbfounded look that you managed to put on Spencer's face.
"Fine. Let's go get some frozen yogurts."
Spencer had to hide his amused grin at your elated squeals. He was more than content at that moment to let you produce those addictive sounds at the mere prospect of frozen yogurts.
But later that night, he had a whole different set of activities lined up to pull those same sounds out of you once more.
And it might or might not potentially involve an entirely different yet creative use of frozen yogurts as well.
Spencer simply just hadn't decided yet.
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ariaxmu · 11 days
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cancellations
summary: theo keeps cancelling your dates, and you think it's because he isn't interested anymore. however..
warning: anxious!theo, theo has a mini panic attack, reader helps calm him down.
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a month. that is how long it's been. an entire month.
a month ago, theo and i both desperately, and drunkenly, confessed our feelings for each other, after months of pining and flirting. it was truly the best night of my life. he asked me on a date, it was all planned perfectly, but it never happened.
he cancelled the first one, saying he was sick and couldn't make it. i saw him the following morning with his friends, looking perfectly fine, but i thought maybe he just took some potions and was feeling better. he apologized profusely, and we rescheduled. so i did not see this as a red flag, but now i'm not so sure.
the second time, the week after, he cancelled again. blamed it on the boys had thrown some impromptu party for blaise as his birthday was a couple of days after and they didn't realize. so i told him it was okay, we could reschedule, and that was that. he didn't even invite me to the party. and then, reluctantly we rescheduled again.
then he started ignoring me more around the school, and in classes. it's like he was avoiding me like the plague. everyday, i just prayed he would come up to me, apologize for everything and make time for me. but that day never came.
which leads us up to today. our date was supposed to be tonight, but as i stare down at the letter in my hands with watery eyes, i'm let down... again. i glance over at the slytherin table, i notice him almost hiding from me as his friends look over apologetically.
''hi, need to reschedule again. something came up - t.n <3''
i feel frustration bubble up in my chest as i read the pathetic note. i'm not one to usually get angry, but this is beyond hurtful and embarrassing. i'm tired of defending him to my friends, i'm tired of having my hopes crushed. i'm just tired.
i wipe a stray tear from my eye as my friends look at me, sympathetically. i sniffle, why can't i just be the girl someone chooses for once.
i grab my quill, quickly writing a response to his note, scoffing because he couldn't even tell me in person.
''don't reschedule this time. tired of being let down. thanks for wasting my time. - y/n.''
i stand up, hot tears still in my eyes as i walk over to the slytherin table, theo's eyes widening and cheeks bright red as i walk over. i put the note down in front of him, angrily, before walking away and out of the great hall. the dam breaks as i sob into my hands, rushing back to my dorm room to hide.
--third person--
theo quickly grabs the note, his heart and stomach dropping as he reads the words. ''shit... shit!'' he exclaimed, worriedly rubbing a hand over his face. he throws the note to his friends, as they all read it and cringe.
''damn.. you really messed this up, huh?'' mattheo mumbles out.
''yeah no shit'' theo groans.
''man you should have just told her from the start, she is kind, she would have understood'' draco says, patting theo's back.
''and what would i say? oh hi love of my life, i'm going to cancel on every one of our dates because i'm too anxious and shy?'' he scoffs.
''not exactly, but essentially yeah. she would've helped you'' draco says with a soft sigh.
''what am i supposed to do now? i can't lose her, you all know how i feel about her'' theo sighs.
''you need to explain to her why you cancelled so many times. just be honest, tell her you have anxiety and this stuff makes you freak out.'' enzo says, ''if you don't you're going to lose her.''
''what if it's too late?'' theo gulps.
''go there now. only one way to find out'' mattheo nods. theo takes a deep breath in, standing up and rushing out of the great hall. his hands shaking, palms sweating as he tried to keep himself calm.
this is what happens every time he is near y/n. he stumbles on his words, feels light headed, sweats and shakes. it's not something he has truly ever experienced before, having feelings this strong for someone. but he knows it's something he can't let his anxiety get in the way of.
--back to normal--
i cry into my pillow, feeling utterly humiliated. i have never liked someone as much as i like him, and i thought he felt the same. but clearly not.
my head snaps up as i hear a knock on my door, and i quickly hop up thinking it would be one of my friends coming to comfort me. i wipe my eyes, opening the door, heart dropping when i see theo there.
''h-hi'' he stutters out. he looks flushed, breathing ragged as he stands there.
''hi..'' i sniffle. ''what do you want?''
''i came here to uh, explain myself. can i c-come in?'' he gulped.
i nod once, feeling defeated. he walks in, sitting on the end of my bed. ''sit with me'' he takes in a deep breath.
''look, if you're just here to tell me that you don't like me anymore, or that you found someone else then just leave. i don't need to hear it'' i say, tears welling up in my eyes again just at the thought.
''n-no! it's neither of those things. my feelings for you haven't changed from the moment i met you'' he says, a little on edge but softly.
''then what is it?'' i say, confused as i sit beside him.
he shakes his head for a moment, his face going more red, breathing sounding shaky and irregular, body shaking slightly. i furrow my brows, becoming a little worred.
''are you okay? theo?'' i say, grabbing one of his hands with mine gently.
''i-i just get like this sometimes, no big deal'' he gulps, barely getting his words out through his fast breathing.
''no big deal? theo i think you're having a panic attack'' i say, standing up so i can kneel in front of him, grabbing both of his hands in mine.
''i-i can't breathe'' he choked out, breathing getting faster by the minute.
''you need to take slower breaths, theo. look at me, breathe with me'' i say as gently and as calm as i could.
''n-no i can't'' he coughs, only making the breathing worse. i look into his eyes, noticing them watering with tears, one trickling down his red cheek. hair sticking to his forehead, i am frantic as i try to think of something to help because the breathing exercises aren't.
i furrow my eyebrows, thinking of anyway i can stall his breathing without making him worse. then i get an idea.
''forgive me for this, theo, just trust me'' i say softly, before i lean up and press my lips onto his. his eyes widen for a moment, my kiss stopping his frantic breathing as he looks at me extremely shocked.
and after a moment, i feel him breathing softly through his nose, watching his eyes flutter and close, and he kisses me back. i keep my hands locked with his as we kiss, the shaking stopping as they grip mine.
and after a while, he pulls back, taking one deep breath in, and out. he locks eyes with me as i look at him with rosy cheeks.
''are you feeling okay?'' i say softly.
''yeah... thankyou'' he gulps. ''how'd you do that?'' he breathes out.
''well.. i know to help a panic attack you need to slow the breathing so um.. when i kissed you, it slowed it down'' i say, nervously.
''woah. like magic..'' he says, nodding his head as his body finally relaxes.
''this is why i have been cancelling on you. because- i have been terrified that if we go somewhere or- if i'm just with you then i'll get like this, and i didn't want to embarrass you or make you like me less..'' he explains.
''theo.. that would never happen. i've been crazy about you for ages now, your anxiety will never change that. a-and if we went somewhere and you felt this way then i'd take you somewhere quiet and try to help you. you know that'' i whisper, moving his hair from his forehead. ''i just want to be with you, is all. i want to be the person you do come to about these things'' i explain softly.
he nods his head, smiling softly. 'i'm so sorry about the past month, it's been tough. i want to make it up to you'' he says, pulling me back up to sit beside him. ''i was so anxious but- now i'm here with you i have no idea why i was...'' he mumbles, pressing his lips onto mine for a split second, a gently peck ghosting my lips.
''date is back on for tonight. i'll meet you by the great hall at 7, okay?'' he says, smiling at me as my face lights up. i nod quickly.
''and if you feel anxious before then, come here and i can use my magic powers again'' i giggle, as he walks towards the door.
''even if i don't i will still be coming back here for that'' he winks as he leaves the room.
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eccentricwritingbaby · 5 months
Text
funny wife, happy life
carlos sainz x wife!reader
summary - the grids beloved couple have begun a prank war, subjecting the drivers and fans to their hilarious antics
masterlist
request by anonnie :) thank you love! - hey you could write about carlos that he and Y/N his wife that they are the funniest couple in the paddock that Y/N has the same personality as carlos that they often play pranks on each other on tiktok
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your knees were cramping, on the verge of giving out, as you held your hidden position in your husband’s drivers room. charles had told you he’d be back in a few minutes. a few minutes. ha! you’ve been sitting here for ages and you’re about to collapse. until finally you hear the sweet, sweet sounds of your husband's laugh approaching you quickly. you give a quick scramble to collect yourself and pull up your tik tok account in order to record the heart attack soon to be inflicted upon carlos. the door handle jiggles and opens, alerting you of his presence. his footsteps become closer to your hidden position behind a few large items and abruptly stop. you take it as your queue to jump but before you can-
“BOO!” your husband screeches at you with his phone in your face as you let out a mirroring yell and fall backwards on your ass. 
“AYE DIOS MIO!” you hold your hand over your racing heart and carlos crumples to the floor in a fit of hysterics. you can’t help but join in soon, but not without playfully swatting at him in a joking matter of pretending to be angry. 
“mi-mi amor,” carlos tries his hardest to get out in between laughs as he begins to sit up, “you’re too easy!” he falls again, most likely due him replaying the scenario again in his head.
“aye! easy? i believe i remember you begging for a date with me, señor,” you continue to chuckle at his phrasing, teasing him relentlessly felt like a duty to you. 
“whatever,” he brushes off the playful comment and turns his attention to the video he recorded of you on his phone, “y/n, this is too funny,” 
“si, bueno. i wish i got that video of you instead, though” you act out a solemn expression and carlos sees right through your jokes.
“well you didn’t, loser. i’m posting this,”
-
you and carlos had opted for a night in after the race due to his fatigue and your absolute need for a shower. after lando had pleaded with you both for a minute to rethink your decision as you were walking back to the hotel, he ultimately gave up trying and muttered a slight ‘old married couple’ at you and carlos while the both of you just laughed at his mini tantrum. 
once inside your hotel room, carlos headed for the shower, but stopped and turned when he noticed you weren’t following.
“i thought you wanted to shower, amor?” he asked in your direction.
“i do, but i kind of want to shower alone tonight, lo siento,” you respond while biting your lower lip to not give away your amusement. see - you had a plan. while carlos was in the shower you were going to get to the vanity and paint on a fake hickey. set up your phone. and get him back for ruining your prank earlier. 
carlos stands looking at you with a bit of skepticism. you rarely shower separately, only when upset with each other and he was beginning to worry, “aye, are you mad about earlier? me scaring you?”
“love, the only thing that is scaring me right now is how stinky you are. i’m not mad i just don’t need a smelly shower with you,” you shrug off his accusation with a laugh in order to lighten the mood and your husband catches on, chuckling with you.
“okay, you don’t need to tell me twice,” he begins to make his way over to you with his arms out wide, “you do want a stinky hug before i hop in, no?” calling your bluff he tries to latch his arms around you as you scream and try to run away.
“sto-stop!” you giggle as he grabs you in his arms, “eww! carlos!” the whine slips from your lips as he starts planting kisses all over your neck and face, tickling you causing you to let out more laughter. his grip loosens and he backs away towards the bathroom, grabbing his change of clothes off the dresser as he does so. one arm raised and a finger pointed at you he lets go of a very loose warning, “this isn’t over, cariño,”
“oh no!” you gasp in dramatics, “the tickle monster! what am i five?” carlos just laughs and releases a ‘loca’ under his breath as he shuts the bathroom door and turns on the shower. you then quickly get to work with your makeup, planting the perfect looking hickey in a place he hasn’t seen all day, but will very soon. once it was done, you discreetly hide your phone and patiently wait on the bed for carlos to leave the bathroom. 
fresh out of the shower, your husband steps into your room with just a pair of sweatpants on as he continues to run the towel over his damp hair. you take that as your sign to begin your prank and tie your hair up into a bun - giving carlos the perfect view of your neck. walking over to him, you plant a kiss on his lips and step back from him as he turns his attention towards his wife. looking you up and down for a second, making eye contact with the hickey, you feign confusion and innocence by proceeding to ask, “que, mi amor? is there something on my face?” you attempt to turn and ‘check’ yourself in the mirror, but carlos pulls on your arm, spinning you around to face back at him. he quickly discards the towel in his hand, throwing it to the floor, as he looks closer at your neck. 
“did you hurt yourself, cariño?” he asks softly, “maybe with one of your hair tools or something,” he finishes as if he’s almost assuring himself. 
“no? what is this carlos?” you question, trying your damnedest not to let out a smile.
“tienes algo en el cuello,” you have something on your neck uh oh. carlos only spoke direct spanish with you when he was deep in a feeling - lust, happiness, anger. “parece un…” it looks like a… 
“que?” you ask softly.
“a hickey, y/n. it looks like a hickey. y sé muy bien que no fui yo quien te dio esto,” and i know very well it was not me that gave you this
“oh, oh that? ya, um, actually that might be from my curling iron, you were right!” responding lightly only made carlos narrow his eyes at you further. 
“y/n, qué hice mal,” what did i do wrong?
“oh no, carlos, baby, nothing- you did nothing wrong,” you panic at his sadness and hold his face in your hands, “it’s just a prank, los, te lo prometo,” i promise you
he looks down at you, widening his eyes in hope before he says anything, then you hear - so quietly you almost miss it, ‘take it off’. 
“i will, i will baby. come here, come with me,” you lead him into the bathroom, grabbing your makeup wipes in haste and rubbing the fake hickey right off your neck. you hear your husband let out a long and deep exhale before he gives your sides a squeeze. 
“you just took ten years off my life with that stress, amor,”
“lo siento, carlos. i’ll even show you the video where i put it on if that makes you feel better,” you turn around in his hold and give him not one, not two, but three quick pecks to the lips as you drag him back into the room to retrieve your phone. as of that moment, carlos begins plotting his revenge. 
-
the next week, your husband and you arrive early at the paddock for race day due to his necessary media duties. with your hands intertwined, you begin making your way to the ferrari garage - passing a few reporters and fans on the way. while making your way, a few fans had called out to the both of you. carlos always joked that his fans loved you more than him, but every joke has a bit of truth to it. 
“y/n! carlos! over here! can we get a picture?”
your husband - ever the gentleman - turns his attention to the young group of girls at the barricade and leads you both over to them. once carlos had signed a few things and taken a few pictures, you both turn to leave but are prevented by the girls. 
“y/n! can we get a picture with you too!” carlos checks you over, asking you non-verbally if you’re okay with it and you slightly nod in his direction to signify the answer. bending down and over slightly, the girls grab a few selfies with you and speak to you about their love for your tik toks, tweets, and overall personality. with your light ego boost, you turn and chuckle to your husband. 
“isn’t it great that your fans love me more?” you give him a sly smile and a poke to his stomach as he laughs along with you.
“aye, they’re just saying that to make you feel better, amor,” he shoots back quickly.
“nuh-uh,” you scoff back, “they love me so much more, i think i better be the one to race today,” at this point the girls are recording your interaction while giggling at the banter your husband and you have provided. 
“in your dreams, cariño,” he bites back with a smile.
with that comment, you whip around to face the group, “do you hear how he speaks to me? my own husband! he hates me!” you sigh dramatically as carlos pulls you into his arms. the crowd before you erupts in laughter at your antics and your husband bids polite goodbyes, leading you away. you’re both leaving in cackles as you continue to jab each other back and forth.
as you round the corner to the ferrari garage, you both run into fernando walking towards aston martin. 
“hola, nando!” you call out with a wave. he stops curtly and leans in your direction, arms parting for a hug. you receive it kindly, swaying lightly back and forth all while exchanging pleasantries. 
“aye, he oído felicitaciones están en orden,” i hear congratulations are in order fernando presses with a smile.
“porque felicitaciones?” why congratulations? you ask back to him. 
“oh! lo siento, ¿se supone que nadie debe saberlo?” i’m sorry, is no one supposed to know?
your confusion ends when you turn to your now - dying laughing - husband at your left, “¿le dijiste a todo el mundo que estaba embarazada?” did you tell everyone i was pregnant?
carlos can’t even shake out words at this point due to laughter as he just begins to vigorously nod his head yes. fernando takes this as his sign to head back in his previous direction, chuckling under his breath something about ‘these damn kids again’. 
“you’re dead, carlos sainz,” you state matter-of-factly at him. 
“i’m sorry, me or my fathe-”
“YOU KNOW WHO!” you yell back, cutting off his smart ass comment, “does the whole grid really think im fucking pregnant, you ass?” this time carlos’ laughter is cut short and he just slowly shakes his head yes, nervousness now overwhelming his features instead of amusement. 
“do you now realize how stupid that was?” you ask him again. again he slowly nods his head yes, his eyes only meeting his shoes. out of your peripheral, you can see lando approaching the both of you and he holds out his arms in glee.
“there are my favorite soon-to-be parent-”
“SHUT IT!” you snap in his direction, “the only child i will be raising for the foreseeable future is the one in front of me,” you nod your head towards carlos, and his eyes - again - never leave his shoes. lando begins to laugh even louder than your husband did before at his friend being scolded like a child.
“oh i am so tweeting about this,” he lets out between laughs. 
you take a glance over at your husband and whisper a light ‘karma’ into his ear before you kiss his cheek and head off to find his family in the garage. 
-
after the race, carlos is doing interviews and you are searching to find him. not being in the media pen, but instead just along the gates talking to reporters, you easily walk up to your husband and wait over to the side for him to finish. the reporter speaking to him notices your presence and begins to wave you over. you shake it off quickly, wanting your husband to have his shining moment, but instead he also joins in waving you over - causing you to reluctantly head in their direction. 
“hi!” you squeak out to the reporter, carlos pulling you into his side and wrapping an arm around your shoulder. 
“hi, y/n! thank you for joining us for the interview!” the young woman starts. 
“thank you for letting me crash!” you reply back with a giggle. 
“not crashing, you’re here by invitation,” your husband speaks up, kissing your forehead after doing so.
“i’m sorry if we were too forward to invite you,” the reporter chimes in fast.
“no, no!” you assure back, “i just didn’t want to outshine ‘ole carlos over here, you know how it is,” you joke, giving the reporter and your husband a laugh. 
“for sure,” the young woman gives you, “we love you two as a couple, you both have been informally deemed the grids funniest couple with all your banter and tik tok pranks, how do you both feel about that title?”
“it’s a heavy weight to carry,” you dramatically sigh, “i have to keep the people on their toes and give them what they want,” the reporter laughs once again at your comments as you shrug before your husband chimes in, “funny wife, happy life - right?” you all share one more laugh before the reporter lets you two depart. 
as you’re walking out of the paddock, hand in hand, you reach up on your toes to plant a kiss to carlos’ lips. he hums back in approval, stopping you, with his hold moving to your waist and pressing deeper. you smile into the kiss and can feel him doing the same. once pulling apart, your husband stares into your eyes, the contact moving from eye to eye to lips. you almost crumble watching him shamelessly adore you. 
“what are you thinking about, amor?” you gently ask, attempting not to ruin the soft moment with loud diction.
“just how much i love you, cariño,” his reply is simple, yet means so much. even though you both are playful with your antics and pranks, your love is something that never falters with seriousness. and you wouldn’t trade it for the world.
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al-ghvl · 2 years
Text
being a writer means turning anything into a writing space, even ones not meant to be used as a writing space! [frantically writing on notion and pinterest]
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babygirl-riley · 10 months
Note
Hii🌸 if u don't mind would u pls write for simon w fem reader who's having a difficult pregnancy??:'( if not that's ok, luv ur stuff btw🩷
In Sickness and Health
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Simon’s heart breaks when watching going through your first pregnancy
A/N: Omg i watched my old co worked go through a hard pregnancy. It never looks easy no matter how it is going. I love this idea too ❤️
Warnings: sickness, pregnancy, hard pregnancy, underlining depression, arguments, marriage, soft!simon, husband!simon, dad!simon, fluff, little angst, swearing
simon x reader guide
simon x reader fluff/angst
When you found out you were pregnant, it was obvious. No period. Your cravings became intense. You threw up every fucking morning. Simon and you were excited that you were pregnant, people encouraging you that the morning sickness would pass. Instead. It came harder and longer. You cramped all the time, you bled once. Thinking you lost the baby when in fact you didn’t. Doctor reassured that it was normal in some women.
However, both of you didn’t expect the pregnancy to get harder than what people said it would have been. Your mom even said that what you are going through isn’t what she did. You are through your third trimester and nothing changed. Eventually your midwife came to put fluids in you since you couldn’t hold anything in. Throwing up was your new aesthetic. It got harder for you to work so you had to quit your job and stay home. Best friends with your toilet, you slept there day and night until your body grew bigger.
Simon was ordered from Price to stay home until the baby arrived and settled. Price heard from Simon about how the pregnancy has been not the best. You been up all night not being able to sleep from being too hot to throwing up to not being comfortable. Which caused Simon not to sleep, due to being worried about you. He would hold your hair up if you were too tired to even notice it was falling inside the toilet. Simon would wash your hair as you cried. Shushing you to keep you from having a panic attack.
You hated all of what was happening to you where you couldn’t enjoy being pregnant. Counting the days not to see your kid but to have her out. It was like you were hating the fact of everything no that was happening. Feeling like a curse then a miracle. Simon was the opposite even though he was heartbroken to see his love going through only hardship, the thought of having a mini both of you made him warm inside. Bringing it up once had you excited until you would hurl once more.
Simon would bend over backwards for anything you needed. Needed a bath Done. Needed a craving. Done and done again. Needed to be carried to the bed. Done. Needed a belly lift. Done. Anything was possible for Simon if it was for you. Nothing would stop him from helping you.
Was it perfect? Not always. Even when you both were tired and exhausted, you would fight, he would always be right by you. No matter what the fight was about, lately things that were ridiculous.
You both finished a fight and made up as he pet your damp hair, rubbing his other hand on your swollen belly. You were laying on his chest in bed, having your belly rest on the comfort of the mattress.
Sweat consumed you, your body working overboard on making your child and keeping you from not dying from everything else. It was silent before you sobbed. You were done, nothing for you. Your feet hurt. You felt like a whale. And your husband hated you. You’ve been only a bitch since you got pregnant and you were done.
You kept repeating in your head that he truly didn’t want to be here that you were just an excuse of a wife. That he never wanted to help you. That he wished you were gone. All because he didn’t get you your pebble ice. Simon had to leave the house for a while and what did he bring back? The stupid fucking ice. You called him a coward for leaving and not say anything about you said just for him to gift you?
Simon’s heart broke when your son burst out, your body shaking. Concern written on his face as he made your face turn to him. “Love what’s wrong?”
You cried harder as you laid your face in his shirt. “I want her out. And I feel terrible that I don’t want to do this anymore. That I have been a bitch. That I can’t stop throwing up. That this whole pregnancy hasn’t been what people have been saying.” He listened to you rubbing your back in soothing patterns. “I’ve been a terrible wife. I can’t believe I have been awful to you. You only been kind and generous and loving.”
Simon shook his head. “I could never do what you are doin’ dove,” He said quickly as he rubbed your shoulders. “This pregnancy is not been the best for ya.”
You sobbed harder as you clenched your hands into his shirt. Simon started to hush you quietly and soothingly. “You don’t deserve me.”
Simon froze from the comment, he used to say that to you at the beginning of your relationship. Telling you that he is a monster and that he would plague you with his darkness. That you were the angel and he was a demon, instead you showed him that he was the opposite. He was just lost in a broken world of his. Simon knew you were not like this. Not confident. Angry. Negative. No, you were the opposite of all of it.
Simon scooted so he would have you sit up against the frame. “Don’t you say that.” He said sternly.
You scoffed. “It’s true, I called you mean things. I said mean nasty things that are not true. Just over ice? Like how…”
“Stop,” He said stopping you dead in your tracks. “I know you didn’t mean it. Never have you showed me that. Baby,” He watched as your lips trembled, as your skin paled. “I know you love me, you are in pain just like I was. Let me help you bring yourself back as you make our child. You’re almost there love.”
You inhaled deeply as you looked away. “I’m sorry,” You turned to him and placed your hand on his cheek. “I love you Simon.”
Simon smiled and grabbed your hand kissing your knuckles. “I love you too. This is through sickness and health yeah? We promised each other that. So that is what gonna happen.”
You laid back down on him, your heart swelled with joy. You didn’t know how you got such an amazing husband. But all you knew is that he was your soulmate and you were his.
Another month went by and the baby was in distress from your body. She would be a month and half early which could lead into problems. However since your was fighting off too many things it wanted the baby to come out. You laid in the hospital bed as they induced you to push your baby girl out. You cried as Simon held his hand on yours and a cloth against your forehead.
“You got this mama,” The gynecologist announced looking up at you. “She is almost there!”
You looked at Simon concern written on your face and his. “It’s al’ight mamas. ‘M right here.” He whispered soothing you by brushing your damp strands back.
With a couple last pushes you heard a wail. Immediately relief went through your body as you laid all the way down into the bed. You panted as nurses and the doctor tended to the baby. Simon watched back and forth between you and the baby. “Go-Go see her.” You whispered gulping air.
You watched as he gave you a concerned look then nodded. You watched as he looked over the shoulders and smiled. Your heart fluttering. One of the nurses came to look over you. She said something but you couldn’t hear her. You felt nauseous and weak, lightheadedness coming in full swing.
The nurse called out as you felt your eyes roll. After that it was dark, you felt like actual sleep took hold. When you woke up, you were in a different room in the hospital, mouth was dry. When you looked over you saw Simon asleep with your baby girl against his bare chest.
You smiled. “They have been so cute,” You turned your head to see the doctor walking in. “How are you feeling?”
You hummed and coughed a bit. “Thirsty.”
“I bet. You had a blood clot form after giving birth to your baby girl. It can be common and could cause from your body being on overdrive to fix you. You are on blood thinners so take it easy. You have a healthy baby girl, she might be a little smaller than usual but that is expected from a early birth,” she explained looking over your vitals. “Your husband knows what to do. Just get to know your baby and rest.”
That you did, Simon once again by both you and both of your baby girl. Never have you felt so much relief and love. You smiled as Simon changed her diaper humming softly to her. In sickness and health. Is all you thought of as he gave you a kiss handing you your baby girl.
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enwoso · 4 months
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You have somehow managed to make me fall in love with this little universe you created with grumpy and Alessia in such a short amount of time!
Would you be able to write something about when the England squad first found about Alessia having a child and how they handled that on camp and stuff? I feel like there would be quite a lot of protectiveness, especially considering how she's part of the younger group, particulalry from some of the older age groups, like Lucy, Leah, Ellen, Jill, Jordan, Millie ect.
MINI ME — alessia russo x child!reader
*oh my god i love writing this little universe!*
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alessia had never imagined that she'd be a mother at such a young age. she had always dreamt of having a baby at the end of her footballing career while being in a stable relationship, living in a comfortable environment with little to no stress allowing her to enjoy motherhood.
the total fairytale fantasy.
however that fairytale fantasy never became a reality as alessia fell pregnant at 20 while in university, after one too many drinks and night with a boy she did trust enough but clearly trusted too much as after she took a test and the two lines displayed on the test telling her she was going to be a mother — he left? he didn't want that type of responsibility at such a young age.
so when alessia moved back to england and signed for manchester united she kept you hidden from her teammates worried about what they may say or think, ella being the only one who knew about you. after all she would sometimes look after you when mummy had important adult things to do or pick you up from nursery when mummy couldn’t.
"y/n? where've you gone?" she whisper yelled, looking around the foyer. you were in that toddler stage of hiding at any chance you got, putting your mum on the verge of a heart attack everytime you went out places.
"this isn't the time to play hide a seek lovie!" alessia said, a slight sterner tone in her voice as she looked around for you.
"boo!" you giggled, coming out from your hiding spot from behind the large indoor plants, looking up at your mum a devilish smile on your small face. a pointed look on your mums face as she kneeled down, grabbing your two small hands in hers.
"lovie, what have i told you about hiding, especially when we are in a new place. what if i had of walked away? you would have lost me" alessia reminded you softly as you nodded, your smile that was previously on your face replaced with a pout.
engulfing your mum in a hug, "sorry mummy" you mumbled into her chest as she kissed your forehead.
"i didn't know you had a little sister?" a voice was heard from a distant as alessia handed her passports over to the staff members, getting her room key. the blonde looking around to see who it was before her eyes landed on mille bright, lucy and leah.
alessia could feel her cheeks going redder by the second, as she stood up picking you up with her and placing you on her hip. the blonde beginning to stutter out a a response however you beat her to it with your innocent smile covering you face.
"that my mummy! i no have a sister!" you smiled at the three girls, their eyes almost popping out their head as you spoke. shock consuming them as their jaws hung to the floor.
"oh my god" lucy whispered as she was the first to break the awkward silence. alessia setting you back down on the floor as you were wriggling to be down.
"this is y/n, my daughter" alessia sighed, there being a slight silence as the information was being processed by the three girls head as you walked a little closer to the three girls, leah being the first to react by crouching down to your height. "hi y/n! i'm leah" you smiled nodding at her name looking to the other two girls standing in front of you.
“i’m lucy”
“and i’m millie”
you said a small hi to them as you moved back a little so that you were standing near to your mum, an arm wrapped around her leg. “and how old are you?” leah asked as you hummed thinking as you held up four fingers, “three!”
the girls giggling a little at your confidence, your mummy putting your extra finger down and correcting you, “lovie that’s three”
“ah”
“you play football with my mummy?” you asked, looking at leah but directing your question at all three of the girls. as they nodded all in sync.
“we do and there’s a few more of us too” millie said as you looked back to alessia wondering if she was telling the truth as your mum nodded her head as a little gasp came from you.
“where they?”
“through that long corridor, getting ready for a training session later on” lucy commented pointing to the way before you turned to your mum begging her to let you to go and see everyone else.
your mummy nodding as you grabbed her hand, swinging it a little as you followed the three girls you had just met just moments ago.
“auntie ella!” you yelled as you brushed past lucy and leah as they stood in the doorway, running to get to ella as she looked up from her phone, a smile cracking on her face as her arms opened up for you to run into. faces stopping and watching the interaction with both adoration and confusion.
“hey tiny, you alright!” ella asked as you hugged the girl tight, you hadn’t seen her since the last manchester united game a week ago. your mummy having being busy with getting ready for camp and you being at nursery up until yesterday.
“yep, i met lucy, leah and mille” you proudly said pointing to each girl as they had sat down at a table beginning to talk most likely about boring adult things.
“oh that’s exciting, what about everyone else though?” ella said as you began to shake your head stopping moments later as the midfielder began to twirl the two of you around, giggles escaping from you as she did so. stopping when she got back to her original place.
you looking around the room, a few familiar faces that you had recognised from your mum playing with them in manchester seeing them when you went to games with your grandparents — mary, keets and lotte who you only ever saw if you were down in london. the rest were new people, new people to talk to and share you infectious personality with.
ella took you around each person introducing you to each person with the permission from your mum first of course. the news spreading quickly throughout the camp that you were here and whose daughter you actually were much to many’s surprise.
the day going a lot smoother than alessia could have ever imagined, she had spent the past week thinking over and over about how it was going to go. replaying over and over in her head about how her teammates would react to her having a child.
alessia spent a good part of the afternoon after the introductions were over in the garden of st george’s park explaining her story in depth to those who were most interested; leah, keira, beth, lucy, mille, rachel and ella.
“that must have been so scary, you were so young.” beth whsipers still loud enough for everyone to hear, the girls all so intrigued but also immensely proud of alessia for her whole journey since you had arrived in her life.
as alessia told her story from the start, how she found out she was pregnant to how she came back to football.
“it was, but she’s my reason now. everything i do is for her future” alessia said simply a couple of the girls humming.
“if you ever need anything and i mean anything even if it’s just for someone to talk to, don’t be scared to ask any of us. we’ll always be here for you less” leah said softly but you could hear the protectiveness in her voice, alessia nodding taking in the support of her teammates which had grown to be her family as her eyes trailed over to where you were, the other girls following where the blondes eyes were looking.
“she’s literally a mini you” beth commented the rest of the girls agreeing as they began to list the similarities between you and your mum. as alessia smiled looking at you kicking a football with jordan and georgia
“i know, my mum says all the times that’s she’s a copy and paste of me from when i was little - only difference is she’s a bit more chatty than i was” alessia pointed out, hearing you talk away to jordan about the flowers growing in the ground, as the midfielder picked the ball from around them.
“but i think she gets that from her auntie ella!” alessia grinned looking towards her best friend who threw her hands up in shock.
“hey!”
“mummy! mummy!” you yelled out, the blondes head turning from her conversation towards you as jordan passed the ball to you. “watch this!” you added as toy had the ball at your feet and began to juggle with it from foot to foot.
alessia watched on grinning, as jordan counted the amount you got as georgia cheered you on. a small buzz of excitement coming from you as the ball dropped from your control as you ran over to your mum.
“lovie, that was awesome!” mummy cheered, as she held her hand up for you high five. the other girls saying there well dones. alessia watching as you smile got bigger and bigger with each seconds.
the way you had bonded with the team in hours warmed alessia’s heart to no end. knowing that these girls were going to now be apart of your life forever. her two worlds had joined and she couldn’t even to describe how much she loved it.
“any chance we can borrow her when we play on tuesday!” jordan joked as she and georgia came over slotting in on the seats with the other girls as they laughed but agreeing. as they all fell into a deep conversation.
you climbing up onto your mummy’s lap, as her arms wrapped around your front. a yawn escaping from your lips as you slumped back into your mummy’s chest playing with the rings on her fingers.
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liked by keirawalsh and 612,540 others
alessia new day, new faces🩷
comments -
bethmead dibs on being best auntie!
1h 140 likes     reply
-> leahwilliamson no i am
-> georgiastanway no it’s me
-> lucybronze come on guys i obviously win!
-> ellatoone it’s quite clearly me!
-> millebright you all wrong it’s me.
-> maryearps it’s me
-> keirawalsh no me
-> racheldaly its obviously me!
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lostgirlmuseum · 1 year
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Bucky vs. Book
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^Bucky on his way to you fr^
Summary: Bucky rushes to your aid when he finds out you’re upset. He’s never seen you this distraught before.
Pairing: Bucky x f!Reader
Words: 600 (I don’t think I have ever written something this short before wth)
Warning: It’s kinda angst?? But mostly fluff. 
A/N: Sorry I haven’t been on much lately, school is keeping me busy. I wrote this pretty quickly and it’s just a short little treat while I’m in the middle of writing a mini series. Idk when I’ll finish writing it, but it prob won’t be done this month. Anyways, I hope you enjoy!
Divider credit: @cafekitsune
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“Bucky?” Sam asked.
“M’ busy.” Bucky mumbled, curling a barbell like it was a dumbbell.
“Someone just informed me they heard crying coming from your girl’s room.”
“What?” Bucky dropped the barbell on the ground with a loud thud. 
“Move, out of the way!” Bucky yelled, nearly knocking Sam over as he started sprinting to the gym exit.
Bucky ran so fast that he was bumping into walls and hitting corners, trying to locate the nearest stairs. 
He took the stairs by three, his heart hammering against his chest, his ears on high alert in case he could hear you calling for him.
Finally, he made it to your room, and swung the door open without a second thought, just needing to know if you were okay. Bucky’s wide eyes spotted you instantly, curled into yourself on the rug, tissues littering the floor, sobbing. He had never seen you so upset.
He wasted no time sliding onto his knees and to you.
“Doll? Doll, what’s wrong? What happened? Are you hurt?” He tried to lift your chin to see your beautiful face, but you barely acknowledged him, your puffy eyes cast down.
“My h-heart,” you choked, clutching your chest.
“Are you having a heart attack?” He couldn’t stop himself from sliding his hands all over you, checking for injuries.
“I feel– s-so sad,” was all you could make out between sobs.
“Baby, who hurt you?” He was panicking, he needed to know what happened, why you were so distraught so he could fix it. 
“Stupid book!” You cried, and flung yourself at him, holding him close, and tucking your head into his chest. Bucky immediately reciprocated, wrapping his big arms around you, squeezing you tight, one hand brushing your hair.
That’s when he noticed the outline of a book under a couple tissues.
“It’s not fair,” you cried, body shaking with each breath.
“I know, I know,” he soothed. He, of course, did not know, but he was enormously relieved to see the perpetrator was only a book. 
“They were supposed to end up together! They were p-p-per–” You squeezed him tighter, struggling to get the words out. “Perfect together! Why did the author ruin it? It’s not fair, it’s not fair, they deserve to be happy!” 
“Shhh,” he whispered, starting to rock you back and forth.
“It’s not fair,” you whispered through another cry, and collapsed fully into him.
“It’s not,” Bucky echoed.
Eventually your cries quieted and slowed, and Bucky kissed your forehead and let go of you. You barely had time to question what he was doing when he picked up the book from behind you and started to pretend to punch it. 
“Bad book,” he chastised, “you made my baby cry. Nobody makes my baby cry,”
You couldn’t help but giggle, and wipe the remaining tears from your eyes.
Bucky continued to scold it, and even positioned himself to body slam it.
“Bucky,” you full on laughed, “stop,”
“Not until it apologizes,” he grumbled, faking a chokehold on it. “Oh, shit–” Bucky rolled onto his back and held the book above him, acting out a struggle. “It’s got me baby, help!”
Giving in to his shenanigans, you leaned over and grabbed the book from his hands, and gave it your own weak punch. 
“Fuck you, book,” You sniffed and laughed.
“It can’t hurt you anymore,” Bucky said, patting your back. 
“Thank you, Bucky,” 
“I’ve got you, doll.”
“Why are there dents in all the walls?” Tony’s raised voice could be heard all the way from the floor below.
You looked at Bucky.
“What?” He smiled cheekily. “You needed me.”
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Thank you for reading!
My Masterlist if you'd like to check my other stuff out :)
Oh oh and this is inspired by my reaction to Me Before You by Jojo Moyes. I hate that book so much. I love that book so much.
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qatarsprint2023 · 7 months
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Hi can I request a lando x f!reader when she’s really sick and how lando takes care of her, like A. fluffy and comforting fic. I just found ur acc and I’m so excited for ur upcoming writings!!!!
~🎀
Thank you sm! Hope you enjoy this one, 🎀<3
Sick days and Race weekends— LN4
Lando discovers that his girlfriend got sick while he was away for a race and didn't want to worry him. — Lando Norris x f!reader, fluff, comfort, reader has a bad case of the flu, no use of y/n word count: ca. 1.2k
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Ever since you were a kid you'd never been the type of person to get actually sick. Sure, a little cough and runny nose maybe, but nothing ever really drastic. Personally, you were pretty sure your immune system was simply a wonderful combination of good genes and growing up in the countryside.
Your parents had always told you that the fresh air and spending a lot of time outdoors with some exposure to animals had probably played some part in your never being sick as well and developed your immune system in a way people who grew up in urban areas would never have.
But when you moved to London for uni a little later in life, a huge city with tons of traffic, pollution and surprisingly little greenery, you found yourself getting sick more often than when you lived on your parent's farm surrounded by green grass, fields that stretched for miles and lots of animals. However this time you got sick. Runny nose, aching joints, pounding headache, hacking cough, fever that came and went as it pleased... The whole flu package, really.
You'd already started feeling a little off before Lando left for Austin on Wednesday and it had gradually gotten a little worse each day, but by Friday it all just hit like a wrecking ball. But you being you, decided not to say anything much about it and tell your boyfriend it was just a common cold you were dealing with back home.
He'd done so well in Qualifying on Friday and he should really be concentrating on his upcoming race and not his girlfriend's inane complaints from halfway across the globe. You didn't like worrying people. It didn't feel right plaguing someone else with your problems when surely you could somehow find a way to work it out yourself anyway.
But now it was Monday morning and you had curled up on the couch under the heaviest blanket you could find with a half empty tissue box and a giant mug of tea on the coffee table beside you a few hours ago already. You were cold and shivering like leaves in the wind on an icey autumn day like today, even with your hot drink and the warm blanket thrown across your body.
You couldn't have been more miserable. You felt like you were dying. You couldn't go to work, or leave the house because you simply felt awful and weak. So, you decided to just lay down on the couch and wait for Lando to get home.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity of waiting for the familiar sound of a key turning in the lock, you perked up a little at the sound coming from the door across the room. Lando stepped inside and shut the door behind him with a soft sigh slipping past his lips, not noticing you.
"Hey... P2!" you croaked weakly and forced a small smile onto your lips when you saw your boyfriend step into your shared flat, suitcase in hand, his coat and shoes still on as well after he just made his way through Heathrow airport and probably (definitely) went through a mini heart attack too when his luggage didn't immediately come out with everything else from the flight, like he always does when you're flying somewhere.
He hesitated for a moment, wondering if he'd actually heard you call out to him. It was the last thing he expected to hear. Reasonable response, you had to concur— after all, you were supposed to be at work. Then he turned to face the couch and saw you laying there, basically drowning under the heavy fabric of your blanket.
"Hey, hey... What's wrong? Why aren't you at work?" he asked in a voice that showed obvious signs of worry as he quickly kicked his shoes off and went over to you, feeling your forehead with his cold palm. "Jesus. You're basically on fire, baby... I thought you just had a normal cough?!"
"Didn't wanna worry you," you chuckled with an innocent smile, but before you knew it, your chuckle turned into yet another harsh cough. According to your mum, you sounded like an elephant with tuberculosis, like she told you over the phone yesterday. Harsh but true comparison, you had to admit.
Lando groaned and shook his head in an exaggerated way. "Yeah but, you should worry me when you get a fever like this!" However his expression softened to one of sympathy as he sat down beside you on the edge of the beige couch, gently stroking your forehead in an attempt to make you feel more at ease.
"Why didn't you tell me you felt this bad when we talked yesterday?" he frowned, some of his soft curls falling onto his forehead.
"You just got P2 and you sounded so happy about that on the phone, so I didn't wanna dampen the mood," you respond with a shrug.
"The only thing you've got me feeling right now is worried, baby. Come on, you can hardly talk without having a coughing fit," he sighed, putting his arm around you and planting a kiss on the crown of your head. "Have you had anything to eat?"
"Not yet," you sniffled softly and shook your head, rubbing the bridge of your nose with your index finger and thumb. It felt like there was someone playing a damn drum solo against the inside of your skull. "Didn't have the energy to make myself anything more than tea. I feel like death..."
"I know, baby, I know..." Lando sighed softly and gently stroked your cheek with his thumb as he stood up and placed his hands on his hips, looking down at you. "I'll make you some toast, okay? But first let's get you to bed... The couch isn't comfortable enough for when my girl needs to rest. It'll give you a stiff neck, sweetheart."
Lando gently looped his arm around your waist and helped you get up from the couch, a soft groan escaping your throat. He held you upright as you slowly walked over to the bedroom where your boyfriend lied you down in bed and pulled the covers over your shivering body, enveloping you in a warm sea of soft bedsheets.
"Alright..." he said with a sympathetic gaze in his hazel eyes and fluffed up your pillow a little, so you could lay down more comfortably. "I'll make you something and I'll bring you your tea in a minute too. Oh and some of that cough syrup we have as well. I know you don't like it, but I don't like it when you sound like you're gonna cough up your lungs any second. Do you want me to make you some soup later too?"
"You can make soup?" you retorted raspily and covered your mouth as another cough slipped past your chapped lips.
"Well... no... But I can make soup from the can?" Lando suggested with a sheepish grin, which caused you to smile a bit as well. It was so nice to have someone who just wanted to help and make you feel better.
"That'd be nice, thank you..." you replied softly and smiled, though you quickly covered your mouth as he leaned down to kiss you. "No! I'll get you sick too!"
"Well, I sure as hell won't let you sleep alone tonight, so whether I kiss you now or have my arm around you for seven hours tonight doesn't really make a big difference, does it?" he chuckled and gently took your hand away from your face to press a chaste kiss against your pale lips.
"Stay with me afterwards?" you hummed softly, not yet pulling away from the tender sensation of his lips on yours and your hand in his.
"I'll stay as long as you want me to," said Lando in response and gently gave your hip a pat. "But first I'll get you something to eat and your tea from the living room, yeah?"
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rileyslibrary · 1 year
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Hello librarian :0!
could I request a fic please, I’m sorry but if you have other stories going on or simply don’t have time, don’t want too then ignore mine completely :),
could you please write a small fic about the times where reader gets easily startled from ghost cause of his silent demeanor.
As someone who gets mini heart attacks daily cause of how easily startled I am, I would love to see you write a fic about it in your own way
I appreciate every fic you write, I seriously am Inlove w ur work. Such a talented creature you are, we must put you ina cage and protect you.
<3
A/N: Put me in a cage?! That’s a little extreme, don’t you think, nonny? Anyway, here you go! 🍫
———————————————————————
The lieutenant ignores your reactions at first. After all, there’s work to be done, and he wants to get straight to the point.
It’s when you begin to instinctively clutch your chest with your hand or accidentally flip that glass of water upon seeing him in your peripheral vision that he starts to grasp how startled you get.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost” he jokes, “should I call Ghostbusters?”
You roll your eyes in response, grasping your neck and trying to catch your breath.
“Please don’t do that to me.” You beg.
He furrows his eyebrows and tilts his head to the side.
“Do what?” He asks.
“Creep up behind me like that,” you explain. “You scare me.”
He’s studying you, scanning you from head to toe and up again. He’s not doing it intentionally; that’s how he was trained—to move silently and stay invisible. That, or it’s a habit he picked up from childhood when he had to make as little noise as possible and appear small to avoid his father’s anger.
He keeps his thoughts to himself and shrugs instead.
“Could you at least give me a little heads up before approaching?” You suggest.
He keeps staring at you, and you brace yourself for a snarky reply. But instead of that, he surprises you.
“Alright,” he agrees, “but don’t expect a royal announcement; I’m not your fucking servant.”
Over the next few days, you notice a change in his behaviour. He walks a little heavier around you, occasionally clearing his throat, snapping his fingers, or pretending to murmur a song before revealing himself. Subtle and gentle warnings slowly replace the stealth attacks you used to experience, and you appreciate his effort to be more considerate.
You express your gratitude, thanking him for being mindful of your feelings. However, true to his nature, the lieutenant plays it off.
“I’m not doing anything different from before.” He retorts.
Instead of pushing the matter further, you let it go. He’s genuinely trying to accommodate you, and there’s no need to get his defences back up again. At least now, you no longer get those mini-heart attacks or accidentally spill water because of his raids that used to catch you by surprise.
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mvnsvn6 · 1 year
Text
Have a mini fic about Steve annotating books and Eddie finding it really hot🖤
So obviously, Eddie's a bookworm. Before he had any friends, he spent the better parts of his childhood at Hawkins Library after school and Hawkins Middle's library during any recesses and lunches. He constantly read books, this was before Wayne got him a guitar and before he got into dnd, and being a bookworm tremendously helped him fuel both of those hobbies later on. But before then? The library was like a second home to him. 
And so, recently founding out that Steve reads, like a lot, is something of a revalation. It's not that Eddie thinks the guy is stupid, but he figured the guy spent time doing other productive hobbies at home. But the guy reads, and as previously mentioned, Eddie considers himself a literature connoisseur of sorts. Writing book reports and essays were one of the few things he actually excelled at in high school. 
So anyway, he found out that Steve is a book nerd by finding one of Steve's books open on his bed. Not really the strangest thing that Eddie's come across in Steve's room if he's being honest, and not the biggest indicator of nerdiness, until he focuses his attention and acknowledges the bright colors sprawled across the pages. 
A burst of rainbow colors underlining what Eddie guesses are his favorite parts of the story or important stuff he wanted to remember. And obviously, Eddie has to ask him about it. and Steve explains to him that he has a whole color key and it's made up of romantic lines that make him feel warm, sad stuff that makes him tear up, stuff that is word for word undoubtedly Steve Harrington sprawled on a page. Steve won't tell him which color is which, too embarrassed by it, but he lets Eddie read through them, and then he stares at Steve in unyeilding fondness. 
The look reflected on Steve's is not the same, mostly anxiety and insecurity, which Eddie immediately wants to soothe. It's so so sweet he thinks but Eddie's mouth translates the words into, "That's so fucking hot." Which, shit man, it is but he hadn't meant to say it out loud. 
"Shut up, dude, don't make fun of me right now." 
And listen, books are everything to him, this is no joking matter. They inspire his own stories, whether through a dnd campaign or writing song lyrics. It's honestly probably the most attractive thing a person could do in Eddie's opinion, he didn't know how hot until right about now, but he'll die on this hill. Annotating your books is hot. 
"Listen to me when I say this Steve, while that is the nerdiest thing I've ever heard and I'm, ya know, me. It's also about the most attractive thing that's come out of that pretty mouth of yours, like ever."
And Steve folds his arms across his fucking beautifully sculpted chest and narrows his eyes just slightly, raising a judgemental eyebrow at him. 
"You're being serious."
Oh he's never been more serious about anything in his life. 
"Uh...yeah? Yes. Oh my god."
Yeah, real eloquent Edward. 
Whatever, his heart is pounding profuesely against his rib cage because holy shit Steve is a book nerd and Eddie wants to kiss him fucking yesterday. So he gets on all fours on Steve's bed to lean forward and basically attacks his mouth before he can even think about it. 
And when he pulls back, Steve's pupils are blown wide and his breath has picked up pace, and Steve keeps bouncing between looking at Eddie's eyes and his lips. 
"You just kissed me."
It comes out disbelieving. 
"Yeah and with your permission I'd like to continue, like stat, immediately, now."
"You're insane."
And hands weave through curls and pull. 
Eddie tumbles foward, ending fully sprawled on top of Steve, and, jesus christ, body pressed impossibly close to his. 
And after they're romantic, read: nerdy horniness, little makeout session, he forces Steve to read the annotations himself, going through all the books that are important to Steve. He has to stop himself from moaning to really emphasize how hot he finds it, and to make Steve slightly embarrassed, but refrains. Just lets him continue. 
Eddie has never been so in love in his life.
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neteyamu · 1 year
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Idk if ur taking requests but if u do neteyam x human!reader where the reader sleep in really weird positions and him just not understanding how it could be comfortable?
pairing — neteyam x human gn!reader
genre — fluff
warnings — not proofread we die like men💪, a mild seizure joke thing (pls tell me if theres anything else <3)
wc — 736
a/n — hey love!! i dont mind taking requests as of now so if you would like to send more pls do 🫶 but i cannot guarantee that i will be able to finish writing all of them quickly, especially since i have school :(
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Neteyam instantly woke up as he felt a sudden jab to his stomach. He groaned in confusion as he looked around in the dark, trying to find whatever caused the disturbance. His eyes immediately drifted to your small frame laying beside him. His eyebrows furrowed in bewilderment as he took in your position. Your right leg was stretched out and resting against his stomach, your left bent inwards but faced the other way. Your torso was leaning away from him though it turned to face him at a weird angle. And your arms were all over the place.
Neteyam was incredibly confused. How were you able to sleep peacefully like that? Was it not uncomfortable? He quietly shuffled back a bit and brought his hands towards you, gently straightening out your legs and placing you flat on your back. His hands then moved to your arms and brought them beside you. He made sure your exopack was secure before laying down again and wrapping his arms around you. Right before he fell asleep he made a mental note to himself to make fun of you in the morning for your weird sleeping position.
Neteyam grunted as he felt something poke him. Not again, he thought. Have you already started moving?! It can’t have been that long since he last fixed your posture. He decides to ignore it, maybe you’re just turning onto your side. Another poke. And then a push. Neteyam growls in frustration as he opens his eyes for the second time that night. As soon as he looks at you his eyes widen in shock. There is no way that is normal.
You are laid across the bed horizontally. your legs facing him as your head is hanging off the edge of the bed. Your right leg is folded underneath you and your left is digging into Neteyam’s abdomen. Half of your left arm is hanging off the bed beside your head and your right hand is calmly resting beside you.
Neteyam just stops and stares at you in disbelief. How is this even possible? How are you not in any pain? He can see the first rays of the sun starting to show and he gives up on trying to sleep. Neteyam sighs as he sits up and continues to stare at you. He crawls over to you and slowly pulls you back onto the bed, deciding to wake you up. He gently shakes you, but with you being so small compared to him it felt as if there was a mini earthquake happening and you jolted awake.
“‘Teyam! You almost gave me a heart attack!”, you said with your voice still groggy from sleep and your hand clutching your heart, your eyes squinting at him because of the light.
“I am really sorry yawne, but I had to ask you something”, he says with a slightly raspy voice.
You give Neteyam a nod, signalling him to go ahead.
“Are you possessed.” he asks with a straight face and you burst out laughing.
“What!?” you question in between your giggles.
“I think you should see my grandmother. Just in case.” Neteyam says so seriously you might actually piss yourself from laughing.
“Neteyam are you alright? Did you get enough sleep?”, you ask him as your giggles slowly come to a stop.
“No, in fact, I did not. You gave me nightmares. I do not know how anyone can sleep like that”, he says, shuddering as he remembered how you twisted and turned.
“Oh really? Like what”, you ask Neteyam, confusion overtaking your features.
“Like someone froze you mid seizure” he says as he gets up and stretches, walking over to grab his bow and arrows, slinging them across his back.
“Hey! That’s not very nice ‘Teyam”, you scowl at him and get out of bed as well.
“I am just being honest” he says, putting his hands up in defence.
“Anyways, I really have to go otherwise my dad will get mad, but I will see you later tonight.” Neteyam says, leaning down and giving you a quick peck on your head.
He leans down even lower and whispers into your ear.
“Maybe you should go see my grandmother while I am gone. Just to be sure you know?”
You cross your arms over your chest and glare at him as he walks backwards out the tent, laughing and waving goodbye to you.
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