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thewriterwithnoplan · 5 months

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Ferrari's Fairytale (1/3)

Summary: World Championships are the most important part of any Formula One team's history. Except perhaps, Ferrari's. Known for their rabid fans, filthy-rich investors, and pretty boy drivers it shouldn't be a surprise that the team has brought together Soulmates from across the globe. And fate, it seems, is working awfully hard to put all the pieces into place for Ferrari's perfect fairytale - one that's been in the works for decades now.

[Part 1 of Pretty Girls and Ferrari Boys]

Soulmate AU: Soulmates share injuries and pain.

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader (Eventual)

Word Count: 1650

Warnings: Swearing, no Charles in this first part sorry it's his epic love story and those take time ;)

Masterlist

There was something wrong with your soulmate.

Really there had been something wrong with them since you were eight years old. But right now, there was something particularly wrong with them.

“Just some bruising over the ribcage, but no actual damage internally.” The medic presses a latex covered hand gently against your ribs.

“They feel broken.” You suck in a pained breath and glare over her shoulder, at the little framed picture of her cat, Terror, on her desk. “You’re sure I’m not about to sneeze and puncture a lung?”

“Funny.” Though the look she gives you as she pulls off her gloves is less than amused. “Which one of us went to medical school again?”

“My best friend. You might know her. She’s stunning, generous, gives me free check-ups, did I say stunning? Goes by Sunny.”

“It’s Doctor Sunny to you.” She slingshots one of the gloves at you. “But it’s good to know you only keep me around for the free check-ups.”

“My soulmate would bankrupt me without you.”

Sunny taps at her computer, “The fee isn’t that high.”

“Sure,” You shrug. “If you aren’t in here every other week.”

“Have we ruled out hitman as their profession?”

“Since we were eight?”

“I don’t know much about hitmen, maybe they start them young.”

You lower yourself carefully from the observation table and move stiffly toward her desk. “Give it to me straight Doc. How much longer have I got?”

“I’m afraid you’ll live, ma’am.” Sunny doesn’t even look up. “A tragedy for all, I know. I can give you a moment if you need time to process– Ow! Bitch.”

She rubs at her shoulder and huffs.

“I’m going to have to log that in the database, you know.” She says.

“Good, maybe we can both find our soulmates and be done with it all.”

“Real romantic, dude.”

“Your soulmate hasn’t been terrorising you since you were a kid.”

“I had my fair share of scraped knees,” Sunny wrinkles her nose when you stick your tongue out. “You do know it won’t stop after the two of you meet, right? That’s a schoolyard myth.”

“After the talking to I’m going to give him, you bet your perky ass it’s going to stop.”

“That’s the second instance of workplace harassment I’ve coped from you in the last minute.”

“Fine. Your ass is not perky.”

“Mature.” She hums, “What time did you say the pain started?”

“Ten-thirty-ish?”

“All good then.” Sunny makes a few more clicks before powering down her computer. “Your chest and my arm, all nice and logged.”

“You know, sometimes I think you became a Match Medic specifically so you could put every little thing into the database to make it easier to find your soulmate.”

“Perks of the job.” She scoops up her handbag. “Come on, let’s bounce before the front desk starts scheduling over my lunch break.”

“You remember how I said you were stunning and generous and stunning?”

“I’m not buying you lunch.”

“Could this week get any worse?” You throw your head back dramatically.

Sunny cracks a smile at your antics, “Only a few more hours and we’re free for the weekend.”

“Are we still on for pamper-night tonight?”

“Always. Mine or yours?”

You end up spending the night in Sunny’s apartment, covered in different rejuvenating oils and masks until you look like low-budget horror movie villains. In your fluffy robes with The Princess Bride on in the background Sunny tries to teach you how to make Hainanese Chicken the way her mother did. Terror cries at your feet when you tell him he can’t have raw chicken. Sunny pops a bottle of cheap champagne that makes you both grimace and promise one another that you would find an excuse to get a nicer bottle soon. You take turns washing the excess from the face, foot, and hair masks off. Then curl up together on the couch, sipping broth, digging into rice and slathering chicken in Sunny’s family’s super-secret chilli sauce. You both fall asleep at a very respectable eleven o’clock.

So, it’s fucking strange when you wake up feeling like you had spent the night inside a paint mixer.

“Are you okay?” Sunny frowns as she stands over a pan of eggs. “You look ill.”

You squint over your coffee cup, “Soulmate is playing up.”

She plates the eggs next to a small stack of bacon before turning to put a hand to your forehead. “They shouldn’t be making you feel sick, illness doesn’t transfer like that. Are you sure it’s coming from them? Could you just be hung over?”

“It’s definitely him, third weekend in a row, like clockwork.” You take your plate gratefully, “It’s like I always tell you. It’s not nausea. It’s more like…”

“Impossible to explain for you and every medical practitioner you’ve ever seen?”

You groan, “It’s like my brain spent the night trying to escape my skull and the muscles in my neck were in on it.”

“It’s not unheard of for soulmates to feel the repercussions of an intense work out. There was this study from four years ago on high performance athletes and their partners that–”

You groan again, “Oh god and now there’s a nerd in my ear!”

She tosses a gelatinous bit of egg onto your plate. It lands with a splat that makes you fake gag. “Oh, grow up.”

“You should be nice to me,” You lament, “I’m wounded!”

“Your soulmate is wounded.”

“And I’m sure their best friend is taking very good care of them!”

She pulls a face at you but still takes your plate to the dishwasher for you. As she’s rinsing them, she asks, “What’s on for the rest of your weekend?”

“I got a call from my parents on Thursday and guess what?” You sipped at the cold dregs of your coffee, “The dentist finally figured out which one of them the toothache is coming from!”

“That’s great,” Sunny’s smile was genuine. “They’re going in to get it fixed?”

“Tomorrow morning, both going under local anaesthesia.”

You hip checked her lightly out of the way to rinse both your cups. “You want another coffee?”

Sunny propped herself up on the counter, “My caffeine addiction is rubbing off on you I fear.”

“Listen, we have to get through the day somehow.” You coaxed the machine back to life before leaning against the counter to look at Sunny. “Anyway, my parents were supposed to go to this race tomorrow. Dad is particularly devastated and has practically ordered me to represent the family ‘at our home race.’ It’s been tradition for him and mum since they got married. It’s kind of a big deal for him. The man is obsessive.”

“My parents had something similar to say about our family legacy and studying medicine.”

“Speaking of… You remember all the times I sat up with you studying, or brought you food when you forgot to eat, or ran errands for you, or made sure you took breaks, or–”

“Fine, I get it, I’ll go to the stupid race.”

“Oh, how kind of you to offer.” You passed her one of the cups. “It won’t be that bad. Motorsports are supposed to be fun live, right?”

Sunny snorted, “Thank God. Motorsports? I thought you meant like a horse race or a marathon. I was getting war-flashbacks to track-and-field.”

You put a hand to your heart, “You were willing to relive cross country for me?”

“I was willing to ogle fit, sweaty men for you, definitely.”

“Alright, first of all – fuck you. But also same,” You clinked mugs and nodded solemnly at one another, “Maybe we can find some fit, sweaty drivers to ogle instead.”

Sunny hummed, “What do I wear? Is it like sprint cars or more like V8s – ooh is it an illegal drag race?”

“Girl, no.” You swatted at her thigh, “It’s Formula 1, which is perfectly legal and safe and much faster than any of those options.”

“Alright, Miss Daddy’s-Girl, go off.”

“Shut up, I’ve had to hear him go on and on about it my whole life.” You pulled a face at your coffee. “The man has had a hard-on for Ferrari since before he met my mother, and then he met her in the Ferrari hospitality at an F1 race, and he’s fucking worshipped them ever since.”

“Oh my god, why am I only just hearing about this?” She grabbed your face, squishing your cheeks and cooing. “You’re a little Ferrari baby.”

You blew a rather unladylike raspberry at her and knocked her hand away, “Because it’s embarrassing! Dad was only there because he and his friend won tickets. So, when Ferrari marketing caught wind that soulmates had met in their pavilion, they practically fell over themselves.”

“Holy shit!” Sunny practically howled in delight, “Is that where all those baby pictures of you in little Ferrari onesies came from?”

“Ferrari’s own little fairytale, Mr-won-his-way-in and Miss-heir-to-a-real-estate-monopoly. It's like Romeo and Juliet; if Romeo and Juliet survived, had a kid and decided to make it the poster child of their love story.”

“Don’t sound so disgusted, that’s cute as fuck.” Sunny snatches up your empty cup and stacks it next to hers in the dishwasher.

You frown, “Not everything has to be a love story.”

“I don’t know, girl, I’m pretty sure you just asked me to play out your parents first meeting with you tomorrow.” She winks at you over her shoulder as she heads toward her room.

“Oh, fuck off, Sunny.”

“I think this calls for new outfits!” She emerges from her room, towel over one shoulder. “What was your Mum wearing when she met your dad?”

“We are not reenacting my parents meet-cute.”

“Who knows, maybe you’ll have your own meet-cute with a certain pain-prone soulmate, hm?” In the moment it takes you to reorientate yourself after her comment, she’s breezing past you with a bright, “I’m having first shower!”

You squark in indignation. Like hell, you’ll let either of those things happen to you this weekend.

(Part 2 : Ferrari's Prince - 03.05.24)

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 #formula one #f1 #formula 1 x reader #formula one fanfiction

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johnbrand · 1 month

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Ending Up Better

“Sorry, I don’t date guys unless they let me smoke. At least this early on, I don’t plan on giving up something so good for a short fling.”

“But would you consider dropping it if we lasted long enough?” I asked, curiously.

“Depending on how good you behave,” Trevor smirked, causing a shiver to run down my spine. He pulled out a cigarette and casually lit it up, not considering to ask if I cared or not. “Seeing as you did not run away already, I would say that this first date could lead to a second.”

Hesitantly, I decided to stick around. Something about Trevor’s confidence was intoxicating. How did such a handsome, muscular, well-kept man stay so organized while being a smoker? All the anti-tobacco campaigns I had heard over the years had warned me that smoking could destroy your health, but the specimen sitting before me said completely otherwise. Trevor’s masculine frame, his social confidence, his economic stability (I practically swooned when he offered to pay the bill). And when we managed to get to third base, his gigantic cock. It was all so wondrous; I could not believe that I had finally met such a great guy. I started to believe that by temporarily putting up with his smoking, Trevor could eventually become the one.

Over the next few months, I became more comfortable with Trevor’s smoking. Spending time in his presence, absorbing his masculinity and ideology, I ignored the habit. There was something so easy in letting it go, allowing Trevor to do as he pleased simply because he told me to. During our time, Trevor would explain all the good things smoking had done for him, from allowing him to fraternize with others anywhere he went to helping him build his magnificent body, particularly his chest. It was invigorating to see him so passionate about something, even if it was spreading his cause and encouraging others to try smoking.

So, as a six-month anniversary present, I decided to buy a pack of Marlboros, just to try them out. After all, if a strapping, sociable guy like Trevor smoked, then surely smoking could not have been that bad. And as Trevor confessed with a devilish grin, I had been receiving the benefit of inhaling his secondhand smoke, meaning my own lungs were introduced to the transformative chemicals early on. It had been harsh at first, but after that first pack it did not take long for me to buy a second, or a third. Or to continue purchasing them. Or until I surrendered to the addiction. Our dates quickly devolved into the two of us lounging about, smoking away. Trevor really was the best boyfriend I could ever asked for.

That was until after a year together Trevor told me we were over. He was oddly blunt, stating that he had enjoyed our time while it lasted, but he had to move on. Of course, this all came as quite a shock to me. I had done so much for him, becoming flexible and obedient. I begged Trevor to stay, pleaded on my knees for he him to reconsider giving us another chance. But he left anyway, his only parting gift a permanent, yet pleasurable enslavement to Big Tobacco.

The irony of the situation was not at all lost on me, but what was I going to do? Originally, I had been against cigarettes, but now I found myself chainsmoking not only for pleasure, but also a coping mechanism. Instead of damaging me however, smoking seemed to heal me, strengthen me. Smoking began empowering my core, forcing me to work harder, like at the gym. It was not long after Trevor and I’s breakup that I began to see the results. Thicker arms, plumper pecs, a barrel of a chest to hold my coated lungs. Each time I coughed and felt the phlegm gurgle inside my chest, I was reminded of just how different my body had become. Broader, brawnier, better.

Eventually, the pleasure I received from smoking became far greater than anything I had ever gotten from Trevor. Sex lasted minutes, our dates only hours. But the pleasure of smoking seemed to last forever–as long as I kept lighting up. And because I was always lighting up, there were always people asking for a bum. New connections were made, friendships created, and even unknown realities brought to the surface.

Through these conversations, I soon discovered I was just bead in a long string of Trevor’s “boyfriends." Apparently, Trevor was not even gay; Marlboro had hired him to bring in new customers through whatever means possible. And as my deepening voice evidenced, he had been succeeding.

I will admit that I had felt betrayed at first, a little concerned at my influenceability when offered romance. But after lighting up another cigarette, I felt my apprehensions melt away. Had I not improved since Trevor’s appearance in my life? I was healthier and happier than ever. It was almost like Trevor had enlightened me in our short time together. I made a note to myself to do some research on Marlboro’s career site. Maybe another position like Trevor’s would open up in the near future.

#male tf #male transformation #smoking tf #unintended results

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tremendum · 5 months

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Me and the Devil; i

(not my gif) .·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·: Paul Atreides x fem!reader prelude next

word count: 5.3k

summary: Destruction: the only thing you and Feyd-Rautha may have ever had in common. Unfortunately, you endured. You learned how to live with the Harkonnens, to be one of them- and with a clip of fear, you worry you may never be able to unlearn.

warnings: blood/violence, family deaath, v brief allusions to smut/dubcon, reader is traumatized. pls lmk if i missed anything. not edited.

notes: thanks for all the love so far!!! here's the first chapter of the story - if you want to stay updated, i post on AO3 first :) just a quick first chapter to lay the scene before we jump into the engaging parts of the story. feedback is very motivating and highly valued, thank u all <33

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Penitent Crimes of Retaliation

In accordance with the legal doctrine of the 'Reprisal Accord', as sanctioned by the High Court of the Landsraad, houses are granted the right to retaliate against proven offenses committed upon them. This action shall such be labelled as "Penitent Crimes of Retaliation". Under this mandate, should sufficient evidence be presented, the aggrieved house may initiate a retaliatory strike and engage in warfare against the offending party. While reparations for damages incurred during the conflict are mandated, perpetrators shall be exempt from criminal sentences, ensuring a balanced recourse within the framework of inter-house disputes."

- From the Reprisal Accord, Office of the Padishah Emperor. Imperium, 10041.

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There was once a time when green was your favorite color.

You'd enjoyed a childhood of it; Peridot, Jades, the velvet green of winter dresses, the tall, mighty green the sacred Pine. The woven banner of your house, waving in the snow-whipped wind; A snarling green wolf upon the grey armor your parents wore to train you.

When the men of one other Houses Major arrived to retrieve your older sister, she'd been shroud in that very same pine-colored satin, an elegant dress, as she waved good-bye to you for the last time. When the ice would melt off the lower glaciers for those three months every year, the lakes would thaw to a deep emerald green, and your brother, sisters and you would play in it; servants and soldiers alike yelling and pulling you out, shivering to your bones.

Even at your sister's funeral. The green of the casket, laid to rest in the ground of a foreign planet by a man who'd never truly loved her. The women of your House, wearing a veil of mourning in that sacred pine satin as you said good-bye to her. Killed by the birth of her first; a son. Your parents had been proud - You became the oldest of your siblings that day.

You can barely stand to look at green anymore. No, instead, you mostly see black.

Black, white, and red.

They'd sent you away to make for your house a Fortune; a son, they'd wished, for your sake - and, by whispers of your Lady Mother, a daughter - but this place... it crawls with shadows and monsters and deadly smiles; most in the form of your betrothed.

Your na-Baron.

If Feyd-Rautha ever had a semblance of hesitancy, it was when you first met four years ago. You were at the end of your seventeenth year; he, freshly eighteen. He had been as cordial as you'd ever seen him, escorting you with an arm held out, eyes malicious but mouth less than offensive. He'd even called you Lady Bourbon those first few months on Giedi Prime. And, in fact, you can consider yourself lucky; perhaps for your bloodline, or for you yourself, Feyd-Rautha took special care of you. Maybe he did care for you -in the ways that he could.

After that, he taught you all you needed to know about the rest of the world. In these final days together, he has admitted furiously that he waited too long to claim you as his wife - four years was much too long for you to wait, even if your purity was claimed by him long before then.

The accusations had come from his uncle, the Baron; House Bourbon was stealing their precious refinery codes, committing treason against the trading accords along their exportation route. Perhaps, he thought, you were the one to plot it against your beloved future family.

But Feyd-Rautha knew better - knew that you'd never dare betray him. He was the one to demand a public execution of your family - but also the one to redirect your sentencing to a mere prisoner. As if you weren't one already.

Don't look away. See what we do to scum, my pet?

After all the sparring, each time you drew that precious blood from him, and you still haven't been able to kill him. If you'd had a blade, you would have, right there in the stands.

You were, in some ways, relieved when their bodies had hit the sand fast; You'd never seen your brother's skin so reflective as you did this morning. The black sun couldn't hide the blood that had seeped from him, nor from your mother's throat. You'd swallowed thickly, wishing you could look away, gasp - cry; but you had to hide your pain. Your na-Baron would've loved it too much.

Why don't you leave me with them, then? You'd hissed through your teeth.

Though he was wild and psychotic, growling with hunger at the bloodsport in front of him, he heard you for what you'd said. Feyd's fingers pulled your hair hard; forcing your chin to stare up at him. A sickly glint in the black sun, his teeth shone with hunger.

You'd have me throw you to your Wolves, and lose my prize? He'd tutted, kissing your forehead with a sickening sweetness; enough so that the servants had turned away their spider-black gazes. They didn't care much for the acts of affection you'd occasionally show one another - in a world marred by ugliness, any glimpse of beauty becomes a hauntingly grotesque show of power.

He'd snarled, slapping your cheek hard enough for you to groan. His breath hit your face, you're mine to keep - there's plenty of life left for you to serve.

He'd held your eyes open as they'd slit your father's throat; then both of your sisters, and your brother's. Your mother had fought as much as she could in her drugged state - the Harkonnens are rutheless, and Feyd-Rautha had sat calmly behind you, your head in his hands, caressing your shaking cheek - but the neckline of her gown was too high, and too thickly inlaid with encrusted heirlooms.

Bless their voided souls.

The emeralds that tore from her gown as she'd spilled her blood to the sand sent a ripple of pain out of your throat. Feyd had buried his face in your neck, teeth sharp as he sucked a mark just behind your ear, watching as you clenched your palms so hard, your own ruby blood beaded out, blackened in the sun's light.

If anybody would have bothered to look before burning the bodies, you know they'd find all the family diamonds sewn into the fabric of their clothing - centuries of your House, melted away.

Feyd-Rautha had drank up your agony with his lips, smiling as his hand wrapped around your throat.

Now, alone and away from the thick industrial air, your chambers are cold and suffocating.

There are screams coming from the hall - not the kind that you've grown to associate with your na-Baron testing his new blades, but the kind that comes with danger. With change.

As it turns out, you are not Feyd-Rautha's to keep any longer.

A loud noise outside of your quarters jolts you from your bed, whispering to yourself. They're coming for you. Pulling the sheets closer to your body, your hand finds the blade gifted to you on your nameday three years ago by your husband-to-be, still tainted with the ghost of your own blood.

Your whispers reverberate in the empty room. "I must not fear. fear is the mind-killer. fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me."

Your voice shakes. Few things remain from your early days of training, before you were sent off to become a Harkonnen; This is one is a relic.

There is a loud noise just outside; blades.

For a moment, you imagine there is a hand on your arm. It is strong, ghost-white, and possessive. His voice rumbles in your head. Don't look so sad, my pet. I will never let them keep what is mine. I will find you again.

You almost wish he will.

When you look down to the weight on your arm, you do not find the hand of your once-betrothed, but the remainder of his ownership, a handprint of a bruise that will not fade even as the soldiers in Atreides armor deliver you to the next planet.

You rise from your bed, preparing your sore body for a fight that will surely end before it even starts. You don't stop your old prayer, in fact, you hardly notice that you're saying it at all. Even as the doors give in.

"-and when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing - only I will remain-" There are soldiers that burst through.

The way one of them fights strikes a faint memory from a lost childhood, and it fills you with rage.

Why did you wait so long to rescue me?

You lunge, snarling like the wild beast you've become in your captivity. You will fight, because that is the only thing you know how to do. It is the only thing you have left.

Your blade falls within minutes.

You're taken by the man from your past not a minute after.

You're on a ship, watching the black Opiuchi B disappear, in an hour.

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"My Lady."

You don't realize the worker addresses you until you snap out of it, flushing behind your veil as you step out of the aircraft.

The dress you wear, salvaged from your family's old castle, is dusty.

It clings to your skin, drowns you, as the rain falls. A staff of House Atreides holds an umbrella above you, shielding your elaborate dress from the water as you walk up towards where the members of the House await you. You stare down at the dress - green velvet. A texture you have not felt in years; your skin looks different not wrapped completely in black.

Your eyes strain to take in the grand entrance to the castle from the hangar which Duncan Idaho had escorted you, ignoring him as he turns to glance back at you momentarily. You can't bear the look of unfamiliarity that flickers over him when he looks at you, now.

He looks the same - maybe less tall, but that has more to do with it having been six years since you last saw the man. You, however, are not the same girl you were when he knew you on Sabberon. Fear, panic, and wrath rage within you while your gaze smolders daggers at the back of his head.

He walks just slightly in front of you and despite yourself, you slide just a bit closer - the only semblance of comfort you can allow yourself to feel as you take in the largess of the castle. The air is thicker here than you've ever felt; salty, windy, like you can taste the sea in the rain... it clings to your skin, but it feels clean. You'd been changing into your robes when you entered atmo - you've heard many things about the ocean, about Caladan.

Something within you yearns to witness it yourself. Subtly, you crane your neck outwards to catch a glimpse; nothing in the near distance but the walls of the castle and high cliffs.

You nearly trip as Duncan Idaho stops just a few paces from where the members stand at attention to greet you and your retinue.

Duke Leto Atreides, regal and composed, stands at the center of the room, his presence commanding your attention. Beside him, a woman wearing a deep cerulean gown - Lady Jessica. Easily, from behind your own veil, her gaze penetrates you; A cool sensation down your spine as you seem to feel her words in the back of your head as she watches the Reverend Mother who'd travelled with you per High Court orders.

Hello, sister.

You purse your lips, looking on - there, next to his mother; Standing tall with an aura of quiet intensity, his eyes on you, is Paul Atreides.

The son to whom you're now destined.

Even from your obstructed vision, you can see that he's handsome - lithe, hair curled and combed back to show his eyes. They are wide, penetrating like his mother's, but Maker, they are so green.

There is no hunger in his eyes, nor hatred, nor anything but a mild curiosity; it strikes a chord of fear in your gut, wishing briefly to return to the na-Baron's sight. It was easy to go unseen with the Harkonnens; They always made their intentions clear, and the na-Baron never wanted many to see you besides himself. You always knew what he wanted, and you could give it to him enough to control him.

But Paul. His stare betrays no emotion but duty. If not for the boyish pout of his pink lips and his freshly-shaven jaw, you could have mistaken him for his father. A Duke.

Your name, boomed from the voice of Leto Atreides, pulls you back to the surface of Caladan. "Welcome." Duke Leto's voice resonates through the hall with authority as he addresses you, his tone measured yet warm. Your stomach twists and turns as the man nods courteously to you. Coaxing your body to move, you bow to him.

"We are honored by your presence." His voice is surprisingly humane, exceedingly polite towards you; someone who was just come from the protection (a laughable phrase) of their sworn enemy.

Your throat tightens at this. There is no honor to your presence, not anymore.

Though you feel the prickling behind your eyes, you force your head to tilt in acknowledgment, schooling your expression to respectful - perhaps they can't quite make out your face, but Lady Jessica watches closely. She sees.

You take a sharp breath, swallowing away the lump of emotion in your throat.

"Thank you, Duke Leto, my lord." Your voice carries steel beneath its polite, quiet veneer, though you try to calm your heart. You turn to Lady Jessica to greet her.

"My Lady, it is a pleasure." You say, equally even. Lady Jessica offers a tight smile, something akin to understanding swimming among her irises. It's been quite some time since you were permitted to talk to a woman; Your servants on Giedi Prime were, of course, tongue-less, as na-Baron wished. "Thank you for welcoming me to your home."

"We understand that these are trying times for you." She says softly, her words a gesture of solidarity as your legs stagger. You feel dizzy and tired, but you force yourself to nod, bowing again. Your chained headdress overlaying your veil chimes slightly with the movement, swaying with the rain.

For such an acclaimed House, you're surprised by the gentleness of their welcome. Perhaps, they'd thought that the groaning and echoing hallways of Giedi Prime might break you, that they'd be taking in some injured little dove, wings clipped by the ferocious boy who'd gifted her with a knife plunged between her ribs on her nameday.

The scar that lies just below your breast on your right side serves not as a reminder, but as fuel. It did not quell your spark. It ignited it, with a bloodthirsty rage for revenge.

Months of being thrown into a pit under the glaring black sun; Not the arena that assassinated your family, no - this pit was smaller, with one large seat for the na-Baron himself, and drugged concubines and servants with blades to service his na-Baroness. A place to watch his pets play.

Destruction: the only thing you and Feyd-Rautha may have ever had in common.

Unfortunately, you endured. You learned how to live with the Harkonnens, to be one of them- and with a clip of fear, you worry you may never be able to unlearn.

Lady Jessica is correct, these are trying times for you. You swallow as you straighten your back. Despite everything, there's a minor comfort in the Atreides' insistence of providing you with the necessities for you to perform your traditional customary mourning traditions. Your family may be gone, but you can still have this part of them; as a way of saying good-bye. It's what they would have wanted.

You turn to the young man who stands next to Lady Jessica.

The Harkonnens had tried to show you the dangers of house Atreides; The poison of appearance, of trust. You are not foolish enough to have believed the Baron Vladimir and his webs of deception, but you are sharp enough to know that in times like these, nobody can be trusted.

Your betrothed watches you, as if trying to see through your mourning veil. The green of his eyes sends a warmth through your stomach as you avert your eyes. "My Lord," you bow to him, your heart thumping in your chest, remembering how you might be rewarded for looking your formerly betrothed in the eyes during ceremony. Trying not to flinch, you wait to see what Paul's hands may do. But they do not strike you, nor grasp your jaw sharply. He barely moves.

"My Lady." His voice is softer than you expected, and it strikes your heart with a cool unease. Distrust slithers around you like a daunting snake. He bows back to you.

It's silent for a thick moment before Duncan Idaho - the man from a distant past - speaks from beside you. "We have much to discuss."

Cutting to the chase, as always. Your eyes fall to the Duke, who nods. "Do you need to see treatment?" He asks the Swordsman, eyes assessing the soldier.

Duncan laughs at this, gesturing to his arm, where beads of blood still slowly peeks through his the tunic he'd slipped on after changing out of his armor.

"Harkonnen blades are sharp. So are Lady Bourbon's nails."

The prickling of four pairs of eyes strike you as he continues, turning this time to address you full-on. "Your fighting is much different than I remember, Little Bourbon."

What he doesn't say is clear to you: Much more savage than he remembers. Something between shame and pride licks at your cheeks and you avert your eyes; It had been a force of habit - rabid hounds don't tuck tail when cornered, do they?

You clench your hand, your nails digging into your palms; you learned early on that sharper claws could keep Feyd tame for longer.

The force of Duncan's old nickname for you, when you'd been young - it nearly knocks the air out of your chest. It's been over half a decade since you'd seen the man; too much has happened since then. Nonetheless, you smile toothless behind the veil, trying not to think of the life you'd just left behind. Of what cold life lies ahead.

When you respond, your voice is frigid.

"Sometimes adaptation is survival, Duncan Idaho. Threats demand evolution."

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The rain is gone by the next day.

In the morning room, forks scrape over blue-plated China. There must be a clock somewhere near, as the seconds pass in quiet, insistent ticks. A cleared throat, a swallow of water.

Your eyes burn from exhaustion.

Your arrival last night held no such time for small talk - you were whisked away by the service staff to make sure your quarters were comfortable; Your old clothing and that of your sisters and mother - the few things the Atreides soldiers had salvaged from the ransacked Castle at Sabberon - had been washed thrice of rubble and smoke and were hanging, waiting for you, in the wardrobes.

Barely awake, late in the evening, you'd attended a meeting in a small conference hall. There, sat across from Lord Paul, Masters of War and Swords and Strategy, a Mentat, and the Lady Jessica, the Duke had asked you questions, ensuring you were not harmed - more importantly, trying to ensure there was no malicious intent to your presence. Your eyes could not ignore the Lady Jessica, who stood behind the Duke, her fingers twitching to the others when you responded to a question asked of you. They had some kind of language, you'd realized, as they responded in their own subtle hand gestures.

You'd only been there for ten minutes before you were escorted by a handmaid back to your chambers, where you sat without rest through the night.

Truthfully, you're breaking fast with Lady Jessica and Lord Paul out of courtesy; You were up far before the sun had found the horizon this morning, staring emotionless at the ghost who stood in the corner of your new chambers.

You'd sat watching, cradling your chest with wide eyes, as the ghost slid onto his knees. How he'd crawled, smirking at the foot of your mattress, whispering to you with sharp teeth and beckoning fingers. The sweet promise in his eyes laid with blood and pain, coaxing you forward despite yourself - until something in the corner of your vision moved, and you'd screamed.

That had woken one of the servants.

She came in with her head tilted down, holding a pitcher of water, and you'd asked her to stay.

Her name is Hestia; she must barely be twenty. You insisted on sharing a pot of tea with her, sitting in the silence but sipping shortly on your teacups. You didn't talk much, but instead breathed and felt the safety and of a woman's company, even if she is a few years younger than you.

It wasn't until she'd brought you breakfast a few minutes later that you realized the staff must have been informed of your courting customs before your arrival - she said nothing as you ate silently, staring out towards the coast of rocky cliffs and rolling moors you could just barely make out from your chamber windows.

And now you sit similarly - in the morning dining room, your hands perched in your lap, unsure what to do with yourself.

Your future husband, no older than yourself, sits across the table from you now, pushing his omelet around on his fork. The table shakes just slightly, jilting your glass full of water - he must have a restless knee. He chews at his lip, avoiding your stare, sharing slight conversation with his Lady mother. Her attempts to bring you into the conversation are met with polite answers and more silence, your voice shaky and cold.

After a while, a woman enters, whispers something to the Lady at the end of the table. Nodding, Lady Jessica takes her leave with a pointed look at Paul, suggesting he might escort you around the castle to settle you in.

Though your stomach coils, you nod, "-if you have time, my Lord, I'd appreciate it."

His eyes find yours from behind the veil and you clear your throat. He's quiet but chivalrous; A nod, a glance sent back to his mother as she leaves. A short gust of air through the room and suddenly you can smell him. His hair, clean and glossy - healthy - glints as he faces a window, exposing the early morning sun to his bright eyes.

It's silent for a few moments as only the two of you remain; Your food untouched and his half-eaten.

"Are you one of them?"

Them?

You stare at him from behind the thin pine veil that covers you. It occurs to you that Paul may assume you are just as bald and sick as each Harkonnen; years of adapting, surviving off of instinct and placation, are over. With a jolt, you realize you are not a Harkonnen. And you will not be wed to one.

You shake your head, thankful for the lack of chains upon the crown of your head today, ignoring the melancholy feeling in your gut.

"I have hair." You state simply, looking down at the skin of your arm; The skin that boasts arm hair, none of the sickly pale skin that knew of no clean air nor healthy sunlight - your skin, glowing with real melanin like the House of Bourbon.

You'd never spoken this freely on Giedi Prime besides in the sole company of Feyd-Rautha - stars, you'd never have spoken this freely at home on Sabberon, either - but there is no home anymore. And if you've learned one thing in your years since coming of age, its that the Great and Noble Houses of the Landsraad are crawling with perjurers, fabricators.

Paul is likely the same.

If the Atreides boy must be wed to you, you cannot help that, just as you couldn't help with Feyd-Rautha. They can dress you, insist in your traditional customs - but you will not go down easy. No matter how cold the home, you can be colder. You are more than the bones which hold you up; Meaner than the demons that kept you in their ghostly-grip for four years.

His cheeks flush a peculiar pink, bottom lip captured between pearly teeth. "No," he starts again, eyes searching - trying to find you, beneath the layers of green that wrap around you. "Not Harkonnen-" he quiets after he says the name, as if worried to offend you. "I meant-" his eyes swim, "Bene Gesserit."

Your stomach chills as you meet his eyes.

After some hesitation, you shake your head. "No, my Lord."

When he blinks at your words, you feel compelled to continue. "I suppose I was..." you move your hand to pull on the sleeve of your robes.

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"or, I was supposed to be." your unemotional tone rings through the room. Paul doesn't say anything to that, biting back the suspicion that climbs up his throat.

He stands when you rise from your seat; Your mourning dress, unlike anything he'd ever seen before, flows like the leaves of a weeping willow as you push your chair in behind you. When he offers a stiff arm to escort you out of the room, you hesitate before looping yourself loosely to him.

She is telling the truth.

His mother had indicated, with flicks of her hand, during the meeting the evening before; you, sat before the Atreides' council, unaware that his mother was reading your honesty.

But that could be a trick; you've admitted to being partially trained in the ways of the Bene Gesserit, perhaps you found a way to deceive his mother. As much as he trusts Duncan and his father, he can't shake the suspicion that you're a mere pawn in the Harkonnens' game.

But his father's words burn sharply into his mind.

Duty often requires us to navigate paths we may not have chosen for ourselves, Paul. You may not always like her, but you will treat her with the respect and care befitting of a future spouse. Love may come in other ways - but you will marry her, and together you will sire an heir when the time comes.

By decree, it was ordered you be wed to Paul, but he can't find it within himself to lose the feeling of distrust. He has spent hours learning about the Harkonnens - how they think, their strategy; and yet, from Duncan's account, the Baron and his nephew just let you go. It makes no sense to him.

"I was supposed to be a lot of things."

Your voice is undeniably beautiful; strong, much more resolute than he'd expected. But you are extremely cold, and evidently unwilling. Polite, yes - it seems you've been trained just as he and every other young noble of the Great Houses have - but you are calculating, aggressive.

He saw the claw marks you'd left upon Duncan; a man you've known since you were a young girl.

You walk with your chest out, back straight like a soldier; your words are cordial yet laced with steel and indifference - it only serves to deepen his unease. He guides you through the castle, murmuring quietly as he shows you along, introducing you to various members of staff who stop and bow in recognition.

You don't say much until he escorts you to a path that winds down out of your sights; Below the castle, between jagged rocks, Paul finds himself concerned to no longer be surrounded by castle walls. Beside him, you take a deep breath, your footsteps faltering as you slow to stare at moss that sprawls across the cobblestone.

Curiously, Paul slows to a stop beside you.

For a moment, you stare down at the dirt and fallen tree limbs, the grassy fields and rocks. Soon, as though an invisible string pulls you upwards, you snap your head, voice sheepish behind your veil. "Apologies, my Lord." You start to turn away. "I've read of plants like this, but never seen them before in person."

Paul is suddenly struck by the realization that you may not have seen much of any flora nor fauna on Caladan. He knows what Giedi Prime is like; and your homeworld, from what he'd read last night before bed, was mostly full of Glaciers, forests, and high altitudes. Perhaps you are interested in such things; the idea surprises him.

So instead of moving along, he finds himself bending to pull off a bit of the moss from a fallen trunk. The earthy dirt spreads between his nimble fingers, the green bright against his skin. You watch him silently.

"It absorbs up to twenty times its dry weight in water." He says it quietly, repeating what he'd learned in an ecological lesson, pushing on the spongy material with his thumb. "Banks of it grow just around the brackish tidepools outside the castle."

Your interest, piqued, causes your head to crane slightly from your short height - he can tell, even without seeing any part of your face, that you are fascinated. "Am I allowed to see?" You ask stiffly, your arms by your sides.

An initial wave of protectiveness over his home washes over him; remembering his father's words, he forces his shoulders to relax. He lets the moss fall back to the stump, brows furrowing.

"You are to be Lady Atreides, one day." He tries to school his voice evenly, avoiding any hint of resistance to this fact. "You do not have to ask permission to see your own land."

The wind from the sea whips around you; his stray curls fly in his vision. There are no words from you for several very long breaths, in which you clear your throat.

"I do not feel well, my Lord." You say moments later, voice cordial but thick with the desire to be alone, "I believe I am sick from travel. Please, if you would excuse me."

He is unsure if he had made you uncomfortable or if you are truly feeling sick; nonetheless, Paul escorts you to your chambers silently, calling one of the handmaids - Hestia, her name is - to check on you. He insists she bring you some bread and cheese, to draw you a bath if you please.

His jaw clenches; he's to train with his mother soon, but he needs release. His muscles clench in repressed frustration and so Paul lets his feet carry him swiftly to the training quarters.

His fingers itch for a blade; his mind itches to forget about the last day, about the cold life that lies ahead of him.

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follow @tremendumnotifs for updates.

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#paul atreides x reader #paul atreides smut #paul atreides x you #paul atreides i need you so bad #feyd rautha smut #feyd rautha x reader #feyd x reader #me and the devil; series #feyd x you #feyd smut #dune fanfiction #dune smut

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tumblingxelian · 1 year

Text

Yang & Ruby's Childhood

Oh how I wish, I wish that people would stop ignoring canon and pretending Yang & Ruby had functional adults who were good parents in their lives after Summer died.

Because the fact of the matter is that they did not and canon has spelled this out again and again for the audience with increasing clarity every single time.

In Volume 2, Yang overtly states that Tai shut down following Summer’s to the point where his neglect became so pronounced a 5 and 3 year old who were grieving were left alone for hours and could disappear into a Grimm inhabited island looking for a different parental figure.

Its re-established again in volume Five when Yang spells out to Weiss in no uncertain terms that after Summer disappeared, Yang, a five year old, was the one who needed to keep the family together and the trauma this inflicted on her alone is obvious. Let alone Ruby, because she was both being neglected and being raised by someone only two years her senior. Something Ruby fully acknowledges was the cast.

There’s a multitude of other things I feel Tai has done wrong as both a teacher and a parent, but these one’s are undeniable, openly stated facets of the household.

And Qrow doesn’t get an out by being the uncle either, oh no.

Ruby makes it expressly clearly despite how much she loves and admires her Uncle she is very much used to him dropping back into her life shit faced drunk and being carted home by a stranger and needing to be taken care of.

Again, by children!

He has his reasons and his problems, but amazingly that doesn’t stop this from being a shitty way to grow up. No matter how much Tai & Qrow might love these two, they were not ‘great parents’, I wouldn’t even call them good.

These two adults were negligent and damaging to the children under their care despite how much they may have loved them, and the fact that is ignored really burns me up inside.

#RWBY #RWBY9 #Ruby Rose #Yang Xiao Long #Parentification #People clowning on this post will be blocked #I am not here to debate how much of a chad you think Tai is #Or how much of a sad meow meow you think Qrow is #They failed these kids and they had to raise themselves #Tai Yang Xiao Long & Qrow Branwen #This is canon

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sunny44 · 1 year

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Surprise

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x mom!wife! Reader

Warnings: just fluff

Summary: Surprising Lewis with little Hamilton’s first time in the paddock.

Lewis and I met in Spain when we were on vacation.

I was on vacation from my job and he was on summer break and by some kind of miracle we met in a bar.

I was alone drinking while my friends were dancing, I was excited that we were going to go out until minutes before my ex-boyfriend had the courage to send me an invitation to his wedding with the woman he cheated on me with.

My mother had sent me a message warning me because the address he knew was the address of my parents' house.

So this let me down completely.

Not that I was still in love with that idiot, far from it, but the fact that he had the courage to invite me made me realize that I have spent three years of my life with that person who didn't even deserve one month of my time.

And that's when Lewis showed up, I guess the fact that he found a sad woman in a bar, drinking alone on a Friday night caught his attention.

That's when we started talking and I as a person completely uninterested in any kind of sport didn’t knew who he was, in fact I only found out months later that we were already talking.

He didn't hide who he was, in fact he told me both his name and what he did, but he didn't specify that he was a formula 1 driver and that he was one of the best ones that existed.

We exchanged numbers and talked for months until he was in England for a race and invited me to go, this was when I fell in love with the sport but also where I realized how much damage it would do to my life just to be seen with him.

People found my social medias which at the time were bombarded with horrible comments about me and my appearance and that it was impossible for him to be with a person like me.

It was then where I became terrified and distanced myself a bit from him because of this. After much insistence he managed to convince me to go out to dinner with him.

That same night he was honest with me, that if we decided to try to have a relationship unfortunately it would be like that, people hating me without even knowing me and telling lies about me.

In other circumstances I would have walked away because this life of being known was not for me, I liked being unknown to the public eye and that the amount of people who would judge me would be less than being the girlfriend of the most famous Formula One driver.

But I knew that if I didn't take the risk I would miss out on one of the best things that would happen in my life, and now I'm sure I would have regretted it.

Lewis and I have been together for 5 years now, and every day I realize how much in love with him I am.

The first years of our relationship were very hectic, the weeks away for races and events, the thousands of messages exchanged during the day and FaceTime calls at night, and those were also the most complicated years of the relationship.

It was like a test, a test to know if the relationship would survive the thousands of lies about betrayal from both parts, the manipulated photos to look like things that weren’t true, the nights of crying and tears for not knowing what to believe even though we were absolutely sure that everything was just a big lie.

I'm sure these years were essential for both of us to learn to trust each other.

——————

It was the weekend of the Silverstone GP and I had lied to Lewis that I couldn't go because I had a lot of work to do, but in fact here was Luke and I in the car heading to the track.

Lucas Hamilton was our 3 year old son. This would be his father's first race that he would be watching straight from the garage.

When we found out that I was pregnant, we agreed that above all, Luke would be preserved from the toxicity of the internet. His fans knew that he existed and also knew his name because when he was born we thought it was only fair that the fans knew about him from us and not from the paparazzi, but they had never seen more than a small body in the pictures we posted.

Lewis had already shown interest in taking the little one to watch him race but I still didn't feel comfortable about showing him to the world, but I knew how much he wanted me to go this weekend and I also knew how upset he was that I couldn't go.

So nothing better than to surprise him with our presence plus Luke's first time.

Toto had helped me with the plan, sent me the paddock passes and let the security guards know that I would be here.

I got out of the car, I put the paddock passes on mine and Luke’s neck and carefully pulled him out of the car.

"Where's daddy?" He asks as soon as I lock the car and we start walking towards the paddock.

"We're going to go see him now okay?" He agrees and takes my hand again as soon as we enter the paddock

As soon as they recognized me the cameras all turned to me and with Lewis Hamilton's faceless son along it was as if the photographers multiplied.

As we were getting close to the garage, Lewis was coming out of it with Roscoe along with him and as soon as Luke saw him he let go of my hand and came out screaming.

"Daddy." Lewis recognized that little voice on and he opened the most beautiful smile as soon as he saw his son running up to him, even Roscoe started barking.

"Hey buddy." He bent down and picked him up on his hip. "What are you doing here?"

"Me and mommy came to see you." He says excitedly and soon he sees me. "I missed you daddy."

"I missed you too buddy." Just then the three of them come toward me. "You said you were going to work."

"I lied, I wanted to surprise you."

"You sure surprised me." He gives me a kiss.

"It's bad to lie mommy."

"It really is, isn’t." Lewis says in a teasing tone. "We're going to have to ground Mommy."

"That's right."

"Are you taking your father's side?" He agrees.

Luke was definitely a daddy's boy, besides being an exact copy of Lewis, even more now that he’s bigger, the only thing that’s the same as me is the eyes, Lewis has dark eyes and mine’s are green.

"Daddy can I sit in your car?"

"Of course you can, let’s ask uncle Toto to give you some gloves too, come on."

We pulled into the garage where Lewis put Luke into the car, after we were together for a while Lewis had to go because the race was going to start and when he won we ran to the front of the podium where as soon as he jump out of the car he came running over to where we were.

And I could have sworn that this race was the most special one for him.

Bonus scene!

Y/nhamilton instagram post

Liked by @lewishamilton, @anthonyhamilton, @mercedesf1, @sebastianvettel and others 91939

Y/nhamilton The best Weekend we had in a long time. Me and Luke had the best time here in Silverstone and there’s nothing better than an F1 race, specially when daddy win the race.

Thanks to everyone that came to support my husband, Lewis and our family really appreciate the love.

Tagged: @lewishamilton

LewisHamilton thanks for everything, you are the best mama and I’m so lucky to have you. Thanks for bringing our baby boy to the race.

Y/nhamilton we love you so much

Sebastianvettel so nice to see the two of you this weekend, beautiful family

Y/nhamilton thank you Seb, we have to plan a meeting with the kids

Yourmom miss you guys so much, the three of you have to come visit. He also looks a lot like Lewis.

Liked by LewisHamilton and y/nhamilton

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disneyprincemuke · 9 months

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beating the heat * ls2

it's never fun feeling like an outsider, so you'd sworn that nobody would ever feel the way you did all those years ago

pairings: logan sargeant x platonic fem!driver

notes: this actually took me longer than thirty minutes to write im sorry

your eyes widen as your eyes stay on the tv screen in george's side of the garage. you readjust the headphones sitting in your ears as you push yourself towards the screen in the corner.

"logan's retiring," you mutter to yourself. you hurriedly tear the headphones from your head. you cover your ears from the sound of george's car driving into the pitlane for a stop.

"excuse me," you mutter to toto, tapping him on the shoulder as you say it and immediately disappear. while this should be concerning for the team principal, you are old enough to know what you are doing. you have been around for long - he doesn't need to keep tabs on you.

he just shrugs and goes back to speaking into the mic.

you navigate your way around the paddocks quick. perhaps it's a good thing that you and george had accidentally crashed into one another at the start of the race, forcing you to retire the car due to irreparable damages. you're not a big fan of the heat in qatar, and it seems that neither is logan.

you're not angry at george. actually, you will definitely be laughing about the whole thing over some late-night food in the hotel together with some soda.

you find benny standing outside the medical centre with his phone to his ear. you wave at him to catch his attention as you approach. he pulls the phone from his ear when you do.

"is logan inside?" you point towards the door. "is he alright?"

"dehydrated and unwell," he sighs, shaking his head. "i'm on the phone with his mother - you head right in."

you mutter a quick thank you, already a bit regretful that you had interrupted his phone call to update logan's mother. you head right into the medical building and try to find the one room that had the most movement.

you stumble in, chest heaving as you're greeted by james and logan sitting in the corner of the room. you sigh in relief as logan smiles at you weakly, his head resting on the wall behind him, arm stretched out as a nurse connects him to an iv drip.

"are you okay?" you ask, finally walking in. "what happened, mate? i thought you were drinking water and felt better from the flu."

logan shakes his head. "apparently the flu doesn't go great with the qatar heat. i tried to see it through, you know. but i just- i couldn't. it's too much. it's so stupid."

you glance at james and tilt your head. james shrugs. "i keep telling him it's okay. if he carried on racing, who would've known what would happen?"

you slump your shoulders and pat him on the knee. "don't be so hard on yourself. the heat really is something, you know? you're not the only one feeling it," you explain slowly, "i'm already fighting the heat while standing in the garage all night."

"but everyone else is having a go at it. look at oscar?" he throws his free hand into the air to show you his frustration. "stupid. everything about this is stupid. the fact that i'm here and still not in the car is stupid."

"i used to be this hard on myself when i was younger, you know," you sigh, putting your hands behind your back. you lean on the wall to prop yourself up and nod when logan raises an eyebrow at you. "yeah. i'm a woman in motorsport - i was my biggest critic. i was very uptight until george and i became teammates."

"why? you were amazing even when you first started out. you were on the podium in the first half of your rookie season," logan mutters. "everyone kissed the ground you walked on. you're still in chatter as a title contender for years to come."

you shrug. "maybe you only consumed articles that put me in a great light. there were a lot of those," you admit, remembering the way you'd tear yourself apart indulging in articles about your place in formula one, "but there were also a lot that picked me apart and treated me less than.

"i retired once because i wasn't feeling great from my period. imagine the backlash i got after that. from the media, the fans, and people i thought had my back. but i had to retire - it's the safer route than pushing through and potentially passing out and crashing in the car. i could've died if that were to happen."

logan's eyebrows furrowed. "that's not fair. it's just your period - it's natural."

"i know," you point a knowing finger at him, "your flu is also just natural. do you know what i did the next weekend after i retired that weekend?" you grin, glancing over at james. he knows this story because he had been around when it happened. "i bounced right back up - i won my first race."

he laughs softly and looks away. "i'm not as great as you, come on. no way i'm winning the next race."

"to make it far, you have to stay true to yourself. you did the right thing today, kid." you folded your arms over your chest and smiled. "don't get lost in the sport, logan. f1 will always be here like it's always been. you're human. don't forget that."

he looks at you again, tears welled in his eyes from your speech. he breathes out shakily and smiles. "has anyone ever told you that you'd make a great ted talk?"

"ah, shut up, logan."

@cashtons-wife

#logan sargeant #logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant x you #female driver #fem!driver #f1 female driver #f1 x you #f1 #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke imagine #disneyprincemuke imagines #disneyprincemuke f1 #disneyprincemuke inthaf #logan sargeant platonic #disneyprincemuke 3k celly

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leighsartworks216 · 11 months

Text

To Be Warm And Comfy

Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

I was only going to write down this little idea before I took a nap... And then I ended up writing the whole thing

The crochet theme actually came out of nowhere for me. I cannot crochet anything more than a chain to save my life, but I do loom knit from time to time

Warnings: self-deprecation, low self worth

Word Count: 776

Main Masterlist

First Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist - Second Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

Slotted between his legs, you rested your back against Astarion's chest. His arms coiled around your waist and held you close, while he pressed his nose into your neck and peered over your shoulder. With practiced hands, the yarn slid through your fingers at the perfect tension, hooked and worked together into rows of perfect stitches.

He'd never seen anything quite like it. During his living years, he focused on intellectualism and law, not crafts. And during his servitude, sewing and embroidering came about from necessity, though he did still enjoy them. This was incredible. He couldn't stop watching as you worked in smooth movements to crochet your little project. You wouldn't tell him what it was, but he was content simply to watch.

For several weeks, this became the nightly pattern. You'd lay back in his arms while he held you, watching you work away in silence or with idle chatter. When you finished for the night, you'd set your project aside where it wouldn't get damaged, he'd gingerly bite into your neck and take his share, and he'd lay down with you as you drifted off to sleep. Usually he stayed, if he'd had enough to eat during the day and didn't need to sip on some boar or squirrels. Sometimes he would read while you crocheted, sharing his favorite bits with you. It was nice. Peaceful.

You told him, one night, that you were almost finished. He'd watched with rapt attention then, studying the way you fastened off and weaved the excess yarn back through the stitches. He'd realized almost a week ago that it was a sweater, but it was almost a marvel when you held it up by the shoulders in front of you both to show it off.

He kissed your jaw with a gentle squeeze around your midsection. "It looks wonderful, darling."

You hummed, smiling brightly. "I'm really glad you think so." You sat up and turned in his arms. He didn't fight to keep you where you were, though he certainly missed the solidness and warmth you provided. You held it out to him. "Put it on."

He frowned, confused. "Don't tell me you spent weeks making that just to give it away?"

"Of course I did, now put it on."

"I'm hardly worth the effort," he scoffed. He did not accept the gift. His expressions mixed oddly - light-hearted joy, befuddlement, self-deprecation - all flooding his system and overwhelming him. He simply could not grasp the fact you'd go through all the effort for him. "Surely it would look much nicer on you!"

You sighed, understanding and long-suffering. "Tell you what, if it doesn't fit or you don't like it, I'll keep it. Deal?"

He sighed, too. He'd hardly be able to refuse it once he put it on. But you nudged the sweater in his direction again, and how could he say no?

You watched with a wide grin as he slipped it over his head and slid the sleeves along his arms. It was... really nice, actually. Warm and soft without feeling constricting. It fit him perfectly.

"You're always so cold," you explain, wrapping your arms around his waist and relaxing forward until your chin was against his chest. "So I made you this. You can wear it when touch is too overwhelming, or if you feel too out of it to cuddle. I just want you to be warm and comfy."

He chuckles breathlessly, tears welling at the corners of his eyes. "I'm sure I'll be very comfy in this."

His undead heart ached. You went through so much trouble. He'd seen you struggle to find enough of the same yarn, watched you cuss and groan every time a stitch fell or when you had to undo a section because you miscounted. He'd held and massaged your hands when crocheting began to wear them out.

And still you persevered. For him. You even ensured it would fit a little loose, so he wouldn't be claustrophobic. It was... a lot. To have someone go through all this trouble.

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you up until he could give you a proper hug. He nuzzled his cold nose into your neck, and he sighed. Softly, sweetly - completely relaxed.

"Thank you." He bit his tongue before he could ask if you were sure, if he really was worth the effort. Surely, by making the sweater, you'd proven beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was. "I shall cherish it always."

"I love you," you coo sweetly by his ear.

He must look like a fool with how wide he's smiling. "I love you, too, dear."

---

Tag List:

@hypopxia @flsalazar @beverlybeav @angelofthorr @emiemiemiii @marina-and-the-memes @aurasyn @furblrwurblr @cappsikle @mjmygd @thegirlsadventuresinwonderland @kindadolly @bloopthebat @pandimoostuff @chesb0red @black-star1472 @sessils @olitheghostboy-blog @puppyg1rl666 @maruichio @cyber-dump-171 @katharynmarie @twinkliker3000 @cherifrog @catching-fire-in-the-wind @phantoms-fandom-blog @thespectacularspaceace @lynnlovesthestars

#fanfic #fanfiction #astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #baldur's gate astarion #baldur's gate tav #baldurs gate astarion #baldurs gate tav #bg3 astarion #bg3 tav #gn reader #x gn reader #gender neutral reader #x gender neutral reader #fluff

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lovemyavatar · 2 years

Text

Push

Neteyam x Fem!Omatikaya!Reader

Summary: you love teasing the Olo'eyktan's oldest son, but how much will he let you push before he snaps?

Warnings: childhood friends to rivals to lovers, angst, slight enemies to lovers but they're just dumb, (aged up) nsfw, kinda dom Neteyam, inexperienced reader, p in v

Pull, Equilibrium

It started when you were young.

Your infatuation with Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk’itan came on hard, and swift.

It was your fifth cycle around the moon. A group of children came together to play and fish in a small pond. Neteyam, though only a year your senior, was much more skilled than any of you. One of the perks of being the future Olo'eyktan.

He showed you how to hold the line, how to feed the bait onto the carved hook. When you failed time and time again, he waited until no one was looking, and shoved his own fish into your hands. He pulled them up over your head, declaring that you had the first catch of the day.

You beamed, an expression that was reserved only for him for the next several years.

He was a pillar in your life. Always there, a gentle teacher when things were hard. He coached you for weeks before you tamed your own Ikran. Helped you master the bow. Supported you at your coming of age ceremony. Painted your skin with traditional warriors paint before missions. He was your rock, providing stability at every turn.

Until...he wasn't.

One day, as if a flip simply switched, he became cold. When you returned from hunting parties, he was no longer on the sideline waiting. He avoided you around the village, turning the opposite direction if he saw you coming near. If you managed to hold his attention for even a few seconds, he exchanged pleasantries and quickly excused himself.

Your best friend was gone. Just like that.

You had no idea what was going on. Nothing had happened, no fight, no betrayal, nothing you could think of that would tear him away so swiftly. From that day on you tried your hardest to break through the newly formed wall between you.

When he sat alone weaving, you would occupy the space beside him and talk until he responded politely. If he was going on an adventure with his siblings, you'd ask to join, knowing at least one of them would agree. You'd wait around outside his family tent, ready to trail him to wherever he was going.

That is, until one day, when he returned from a hunt and told you how he really felt.

“Eywa, will you just stop?” He turns abruptly, making you lurch to a halt in order to avoid ramming into him.

“What—I don't understand, 'Teyam. Did something happen—” A hopefulness shakes your voice. Hope that it isn't you. That something happened on the hunt to make him so irritated.

“You're so annoying, always following me around.” His hands gesture harshly, anger tightening his face. “Don't you have any friends to bother?”

You simply stood before him, gaping for several long moments. By the time the words processed, he'd already fled with a rough breath. That was the day things really changed between you.

Unbeknownst to you, there was a reason for the sudden shift. His parents, always thinking of the future, had told him a mate would be chosen for him soon. He would be the next Olo'eyktan, after all, and the pairing must be suitable for the prosperity of the clan.

They chose you.

From that moment, you became more than a friend. You became an obligation. Another addition to the long list of expectations his parents piled onto his shoulders. He crumbled under the weight, directing his spite to you since he couldn't show disrespect to his elders. It ate at him, the way he treated you, but the damage had already been done.

At first, you were sad. Many tears were shed over the situation. Many lonely nights spent at the secret spots the two of you had once frequented. Then, you got angry. Who was he to abandon you without reason? Without explanation?

So, you did what any vengeful woman would do and decided to get even.

You decided you would get his attention one way or another. Several methods proved successful. When you challenged him, his eyes would zero in on you, something dark flickering behind the glowing yellow. If you bested him, he'd huff and stalk off, shoulders tense. But if you teased him? That really got the reaction you were looking for.

He'd challenge you to races, and you'd win nearly every time, never wasting an opportunity to gloat.

“Oh, you were so close. Maybe next time.” Your voice is sickly sweet as you release your queue from your Ikran, feet hitting warm stone.

Neteyam lands a moment later, quickly dismounting his own beast. He turns on you, chin dipped, eyes hooded as they slice through yours harshly. “You cheated.”

“Don't be jealous just because I know a shortcut.” A huff falls from your lips as you smooth a braid away from your face.

“You always do this.” Fists clench at his sides, mouth slanting into a deep frown.

“Do what? Beat you?” You blink up at him innocently, and he seethes.

He seemed to always get angry if you put yourself in harms way, scolding you just as he would his siblings.

“You should not be so stupid.” He points a finger directly in your face, shoulders hunched with tension.

“You should not be so uptight.” You mimick his stance, poking a finger into his broad chest.

He growled, actually growled, the sound sending a flutter from your stomach to the heat between your legs. He took a step toward you, hand extending before he thought better and pulled it to his side.

“Be more careful, or next time I will tell your father.” He stalks off in a huff, leaving you to smirk victoriously to yourself.

After some testing, and pushing, you realized that nothing riled him up quite like the sight of you with another man.

You used this to your advantage, waiting until he was in view to share a few lingering touches or soft glances. You never took it too far, knowing it wasn't fair to give anyone the wrong idea. Your actions were innocent enough, but still, they made his blood boil.

He noticed every touch, every smile, every tiny little interaction. He was constantly distracted by it. Hearing the way the other men talked about you, that was hard enough, but seeing it right in front of him? It was almost too much to bear.

The moment he'd had enough came just after your twentieth birthday celebration. The entire clan came together to dance and sing, lifting you up in prayer for a good future. He was looking for you toward the end of the party, eyes flicking over the crowd. He was about to give up, go back to the family tent for the night, when he heard you.

His gaze snapped to the edge of the forest. You emerged with a burst of melodic laughter, head thrown back in joy. You weren't alone. One arm dragged behind you, fingers entwined with another's. Instantly, he saw red, his vision blurring until that small connection was the only thing in sight.

He stalked toward you without hesitation, something pulling at his heart when your smile dropped.

“A word?” He barks the order, giving you no time to protest as he rips your hand free and drags you back into the trees.

“Neteyam, what's going on?” Your voice is breathless as you lurch forward, trying to keep up with his brisk pace.

He doesn't stop until you reach a secluded section of the forest, surrounded by glittering foliage. He turns on you, quickly dropping your hand.

“What were you doing with that boy?” The question is ground out through a tight jaw.

You stumble back in surprise. “I don't see how that's any of your business.”

“When someone touches you, it is my business.”One large step closes the distance again. “Did he touch you, Y/N?”

“I—” This dance continues, you moving back and him advancing, stalking you like prey. “I don't—”

“Answer the question.” His voice drops, the raspy demand making you swallow thickly, something fluttering deep in your stomach. The intensity of his eyes burns through you.

You don't stop moving, walking backward until rough bark presses into your spine. Neteyam meets you there, looming over you from only a few inches away.

“No.” The response isn't as firm as you would've liked, your voice wobbling with some unknown emotion.

“No, he didn't touch you?” He tilts his head down to meet your eyes, one hand moving up to rest against the tree above your head. “Or no, you won't answer?”

You lift your chin in defiance, gaze locking with his in silent challenge. A sudden brashness wafts through you. “Why does it matter?”

“Y/N, I swear...” His jaw clenches so hard he fears he might crack a tooth. He doesn't even sound like himself, breathing ragged and voice deep.

“What are you gonna do, mighty warrior?” A smirk tilts the corner of your lips, seeing how worked up you've gotten him.

He growls darkly, free hand moving to wrap around your throat. Your eyes widen in surprise, a gasp parting your lips just before he connects them with his. He isn't gentle, lips slanting over yours as he takes the final step forward to eliminate any remaining space between you.

With his chest pressed against yours, you feel the rapid cadence of his heart. You can't help but instantly respond, stomach dipping. A pathetic sigh echoes from the trees, your hands lifting to wrap around his thin waist.

“This is what you wanted, isn't it?” He rips his lips from yours, instead moving to litter your neck with sloppy kisses. Your head all but slams against the tree as you throw it back in ecstasy. “You push, and push, just waiting for me to break. Isn't that right?”

A ragged moan falls from parted lips as sharp fangs nip at your skin.

“Say it.” He demands, moving back to pin you in place with a heated glare.

“Yes, yes.” You cage his face between your hands, pulling him back in.

Your lips slot together perfectly, moving in a feverish frenzy. He hums against you, knee knocking into yours to force your legs apart. He pushes his leg up, wedging his muscular thigh between yours.

He groans as your heat warms his skin, covering the sound of your desperate gasp. In an instant he grips your wrists, pining them above your head with one hand while the other moves to rip your loincloth from your hips.

“Is this okay?” He asks a moment too late, but you're too delirious with desire to care. Your head bobs quickly and he wastes no time in reconnecting your lips.

He holds you in place, strong thigh supporting your weight as you begin trembling. Your hips rut against his strong thigh, seeking friction. A broken sound pours into his mouth when his smooth skin catches your clit. Your core pulses with want, aching to be filled.

You've never felt like this, so out of control with desire. You don't know exactly what's going on, just that you need something. Anything to satiate this feeling. A tightness swells in your lower belly. Neteyam groans against you when he feels your slick against his leg.

He can't wait any longer, trailing a feather light touch down the column of your throat, your chest, your stomach, until he reaches the place he wants to be most.

“I need to stretch you, yawne (beloved).” He warns, just before a finger tentatively prods at your entrance.

You cry out against the foreign feeling, though the digit slides right in without protest. You tremble against him, feeling the walls of your pussy clench around the intrusion.

“‘Teyam!” You use the nickname that hasn't passed your lips in years, head tilting back as he gently thrusts his finger a few times.

“Yeah, that's right.” He grumbles, chest tight with emotion, adding another digit. “Say my name, sevin (pretty).”

“‘Teyam, ‘Teyam, ‘Teyam!” You cry out with each languid push against your sex, hips rocking to force him deeper.

He grunts against your neck, forehead pressed into you for support. He's painfully hard beneath his loincloth, hips rutting into yours shakily. He could cum from this, the noises you're making pushing him dangerously close to the edge.

He adds a third finger, and you wail pathetically, the pleasurable sting unlike anything you've felt before.

“‘Teyam, need you, please.” You don't care that you're begging, that he's gotten the best of you in this situation. You just need him to quench this desire, this emptiness suddenly fluttering your insides.

“Fuck, Y/N. You're not ready yet.” His voice is guttural, tormented with the wait, but he needs to make sure he won't hurt you.

You groan in protest, ripping your hands free of his loose hold. He's momentarily stunned as you undo his loincloth in record time. Your fingers wrap around his length, and he mewls. His hips snap forward, broken noises rumbling against your shoulder.

“Now, Neteyam.” You demand, angling his tip at your entrance.

“Shit, yawntutsyip (darling), wait.” His fingers leave you, but you barely have time to register the way your pussy clenches before he hoists you up, wrapping your legs around his hips.

He carries you a few steps to a clearing and gently lays you down, back now pressed against soft grass. You smile up at him as he leans over you, fingers soothing over his cheeks.

“Hi.” You whisper, eyes glittering under the eclipsed sun.

“Hi.” He can't help but grin, heart soaring at the position. He finally has you the way he wants, the way he's always wanted but was too stupid to realize.

“Ready?” He grips his pulsing cock and lines it up to you, gaze boring into yours to make sure.

“For you, always.” Your arms wrap around his neck languidly, pulling him in as he gently eases inside you.

Your back bows from the earth, chest pressing into his. He releases a ragged breath, eyes pinching at the way you're squeezing him. Slowly, slowly, he presses on until he bottoms out, tip nestled tightly against your womb.

“Neteyam…” You whimper, brows pinched, unsure what you’re even asking for.

“I know, baby, I know.” He coos gently, fingertips pushing stray braids from your forehead. “Gonna move now, okay?”

“Please.” You nod vigorously, legs tightening around his hips in encouragement.

“Fuck.” The curse slips past tight lips as he pulls out, slowly pressing back in to test the feeling.

“More, more.” Your head thrashes, the sensation too much and not enough all at once.

His forearms press into the dirt, caging you in as they support his weight. He grits his teeth, restraint tightening his chest. “Don’t want to hurt you, yawne (beloved)."

You groan with frustration and decide to take matters into your own hands. With your legs, still wrapped tightly around his hips, you twist harshly. The two of you roll to the side, Neteyam’s back hitting the ground with the force of the movement.

Wide eyes meet yours in surprise, the expression quickly morphing into one of pure ecstasy as you pull back until his cock is nearly all the way out before slamming back down.

“Fuck, Y/N, wait—” Fingers clamp around your hips to force you still.

Your core rolls forward, grinding your clit just how you need against him. You’re a moaning, stuttering mess, blubbering on top of him. Hands move to press into his strong stomach, stabilizing your efforts.

“Oh, Eywa.” His eyes roll back, hands going slack to allow you more freedom. He’s gone, all composure forfeit under the need to cum, the need to make you cum.

He slides a hand to your front, thumb pressing into your clit gently. You let out a ragged, broken noise, and he circles the digit, needing to hear it again.

“‘Teyam! I—I think…” Breath catches in your throat, muscles tensing around him. Something swells in your lower belly, an unfamiliar but incredibly pleasurable feeling.

He growls, the friction sending his pulsing cock closer to the edge. “Atta girl, come on. Cum for me.”

In an instant you’re frozen, pussy clenching hard until it gushes around him. You scream, the sound echoing through dense trees as you tremble with the force of your orgasm. Your back bows, bringing your closer to him as he lurches upright to take a nipple into his mouth.

“Y/N—I’m gonna—can I?” It's a desperate plea, the last bit of restraint he has left used to hold off his impending orgasm.

You nod quickly, arms encircling his head. “Yes, yes. Fill me up, yawnetu (love).”

He ruts against you, spilling into your core with a rough growl. His fangs nip at your neck, not hard enough to draw blood but to leave a little sting. He pulls you tight against him, arms crossing around your back.

Ragged breaths fill the forest as you both settle into stillness. Your fingers rub gentle circles into the back of his neck, his own smoothing down your sides. You feel the quick thrum of his heart against yours as he twitches inside you, making you whimper pathetically into his ear.

He gently lifts you, pulling out, your core spasming against the movement. He lays down in the grass, taking you with him, tucking you into his side and wrapping an arm around your shoulders. A contented sigh leaves your lips, eyes closing to bask in the afterglow for several minutes.

“You’re mine now, you know that right?” His voice is gentle, no authority behind the words, just speaking them as plainly as the truth.

You chuckle gently, nestling closer to his chest. “I’ve always been yours, ‘Teyam.”

#neteyam smut #neteyam sully #neteyam sully fic #neteyam fic #neteyam sully smut #neteyam x you #neteyam x reader #neteyam fanfiction #neteyam imagine #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam sully imagine #neteyam headcanons #neteyam x y/n #sully family #avatar #avatar way of water #avatar 2

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rejectedfables · 11 months

Text

While the source material clearly intends Xue Yang to be read as an orphan (perhaps orphaned so young he has no memory of his parents), I think it’s underexplored in fandom that he never ACTUALLY SAYS that his parents DIED, but rather that he was a child without parents.

"He had neither dad nor mom nor money" (via the official english translation)

I think there's something in here worth exploring about the possibility that Xue Yang was abandoned by his parents.

Perhaps he remembers one or both of them and/or the event, perhaps he does not but just has a sense of it having happened, perhaps he has no memories of it at all but it still psychologically impacted his development.

Just about every character in the story can be better understood by looking at how they were raised, and Xue Yang is CERTAINLY not an exception.

There are myriad ways to interpret his childhood (though none of them stable, safe, or cared for), but I have been thinking a LOT lately about how being abandoned by his parents could have shaped him into who he later became.

His behavior in the Villainous Friends extra (wherein he, seemingly arbitrarily, breaks things and antagonizes people and then specifically challenges Jin Guangyao about paying for damages) COULD be interpreted as acting out in a way that's common for children and teens with a history of abandonment who are testing the waters of just how much their new guardian/s will tolerate. This sort of behavior can be a self fulfilling prophesy as well as an attempt to prove to themselves that their expectations of rejection or punishment are correct.

If Xue Yang has only ever known the world to be a painful place where people reject and abandon him, then that's how he expects the world to continue behaving. If suddenly someone defies this expectation, it is simultaneously a fascinating and wondrous thing, and also a threat to his worldview. After all, if THIS person can be kind and care for him, then why didn't anyone else?

If JGY, who at this point is essentially just his handler, can be unconditionally patient with him... then why couldn't others have been patient with him over much less? And why couldn't his own parents, who had considerably higher responsibility to him, be as patient as JGY?

It's much easier to push and push and push until you break the patience and prove your cynicism correct, than it is to grapple with those painful questions. And after all, Jin Guangyao had an exterior force (Jin Guangshan) requiring him to show patience. And once that force was removed, so was Xue Yang. This, perhaps, felt as much like validation as it did betrayal.

There might be a parallel to be made here, too, about how JGY was and felt betrayed/abandoned by his father. This in common might be something that they bonded over.

And of course, as always, there's Yi City.

Xue Yang expects Xiao Xingchen to abandon him, and his elaborate “revenge” was at least in part in preparation for that anticipated betrayal. He "knows" he will be betrayed and, perhaps unlike what happened with Jin Guangyao, he intends to be ready for it this time. Ready to punish Xiao Xingchen the MOMENT it happens, or ready to convince him not to betray him after all (what is "We're not so different, I'm not uniquely evil, you're ending our life together because you think you're better than me but look! Look! You and I are the same now" if not a deeply misguided and utterly desperate plea?).

At some point he starts hoping it just won't happen, and stops needing the “revenge” plot. When it starts unraveling before him, he tries for understanding first. What is "Hear my story, THEN decide--" if not begging to be understood?

Of course it doesn't work.

Xiao Xingchen doesn't even kill Xue Yang, either; he goes Away. Goes where Xue Yang can't. If Xue Yang is read as having this particular trigger, Xiao Xingchen's suicide may feel like abandonment all over again.

Perhaps Xiao Xingchen NOT killing Xue Yang becomes a parallel to Xue Yang's parents abandoning him to suffer alone instead of keeping him or killing him. Or else maybe Xue Yang's mother DID try to kill him (drown him or left him out in the cold) and he just managed to survive, in which case Xiao Xingchen NOT trying to kill Xue Yang puts him a cut above even Xue Yang's own mother/parents.

Final thought:

While I find Xue Yang's lack of familial connection to the rest of the cast compelling, I also find "what if" scenarios fascinating to explore, and "Xue Yang was abandoned by parents who might still be around during the story" does create some fascinating opportunities for fic.

Such as:

What if Xue Yang was yet another illegitimate son of Jin Guangshan? What if he knew but Jin Guangyao didn't? What if Jin Guangyao knew but Xue Yang didn't? What if Jin Guangshan himself knew? That would really put the insistent protections into a very weird light (is there a heart in there? Or did he think he could string Xue Yang along like he did Jin Guangyao? Or was Xue Yang blackmailing him?)

What if Xue Yang was the illegitimate son of Chang Cian? It certainly puts a spin on that entire scenario. Little Xue Yang has another reason to want to please this man, and a further reason to feel betrayed by the abuse. Chang Cian not even recognizing him. Xue Yang taking revenge on the entire family because they ALL wronged him in a way he can't articulate. Because they got to live the life he could have if he'd been wanted.

Certainly none of this is canon, but it's not TERRIBLY far beyond the bounds of canon either, and makes for some juicy food for fic.

#Mdzs #mo dao zu shi #grandmaster of demonic cultivation #the grandmaster of diabolism #Yi city #Xue yang #mdzs meta #yi cheng #xue chengmei #xuexiao

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miley1442111 · 5 months

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injury-b.floyd

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a/n: intended for fem reader, but as always imagine what you like:)))))))))

summary: how you and your husband continue after you get into an accident.

pairing: bob floyd x reader

warnings: angst, insecurity around scars/injuries, reader gets injured, frustration with injury, +

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Bob and you had been inseparable since you were kids, going up in Montana together, then going into the navy together. He’d just become your husband. You two had been together since probably 6th grade and now you two were married. You were a pilot and Bob was your back-seater, always. That was until your accident. You’d gotten hurt in a flight, just some dogfighting, it should’ve been fine, but your plane malfunctioned and you went down. You went down and sustained massive injuries.

Bob could remember getting the call like it was yesterday.

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“Hello, is this Lieutenant Robert Floyd?” The voice on the other side of his phone asked.

“Yes, this is him,” He answered, sniffling. It wasn’t everyday that you had to fly alone and it wasn’t everyday that Bob got sick. But when Bob did get sick, he was so ill he could barely get out of bed.

“Your wife, Lieutenant Y/n Floyd was in an accident today. She’s alive, but she’s in St. George’s Hospital, we suggest you go to her.”

Bob’s world stopped. You were hurt. You had flown on your own and you were hurt. He could’ve been there. He could’ve saved you, he should've saved you. That’s his role as your husband, to love and protect you. He promised you 4 months ago that he would.

“Lieutenant?” The voice spoke again.

“I-I’m on my way.”

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When he arrived at the hospital he was told that you were in surgery to stop the bleeding in your lungs and to try and repair some damage. Apparently your plane had been improperly checked and the emergency evac pulleys weren’t working, so you had to go down.

Bob felt sick to his stomach.

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After hours of surgery and days of waiting for you to wake up, you finally did.

"Hey baby," he smiled, tears in his eyes as yours opened.

"Bob?" You questioned, eyes hazy from days of sleep.

"Yeah, that's right darling," a tear fell, then another. He took your hand in his and pressed a kiss against it.

"W-what happened?" You asked, afraid of the answer.

Bob recounted as best he could, leaving out all the horrible bits that he'd rather you forget.

A nurse and doctor joined you two next, explaining your injuries and treatment plan. You sat there, listen in utter horror, terrified that you'd been hurt this badly.

You'd never fly again.

After a few months in the hospital and hours and hours of physical therapy, you were discharged and sent home with Bob. The first night was quiet, too quiet for the both of you after becoming used to the sound of the hospital. You lay down in bed together and he held you tighter than he ever had.

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At home, you were constantly trying to do things you couldn’t do anymore. One of your legs had been shattered in the incident and you were on crutches or a cane most days, meaning easy things like making dinner or something as simple as making a cup of tea became difficult. Bob tried to help you as much as he could but he could feel your frustration growing every day. You barely ate, barely got up, barely talked anymore.

“Baby,” he ran a soothing hand against your back, feeling the healed scars and the way you tensed under his touch. “Please talk to me,” he begged.

“About what?” You whispered into the dark expanse of the room, your back to him.

“Just talk to me,” he asked, tears rolling down his cheeks silently.

There was a long pause, then you spoke. “Do you still love me? Even though I’m… like this”

Bob was stunned. He loved you more than anything in the world, you were the most beautiful thing in his world, and you were simply an incredible person. He sat up and wiped his cheeks, you following suit to look at him.

“I love you more than anything in the world,” He promised, taking your hand. Finally, the flood gates opened and you sobbed into his chest.

“I’m so sorry,” you swore, burying your head into his chest as he held you tight. “I was so worried you wouldn’t want me anymore, t-that you’d l-leave me because, because I’m not what you m-married. Because I’m not pretty anymore.”

Bob’s heart broke. He thought you were the most beautiful woman in the world, he didn’t care that you had scars, let alone scars from something you couldn’t control. “Baby, you are the most beautiful, sexy, pretty, and gorgeous woman on the planet. I love you for reasons other than that as well, yes, but, it sure is a nice bonus to have a hot fucking wife,” he smiled at you and you laughed for the first time in months.

“You promise?” You sniffled.

“I promise,” he smiled. “And I plan on showing you just how beautiful I think you are when you’re cleared by the doctor,” he smirked and you rolled your eyes.

Your regular banter was back. While you still got frustrated with your injuries, and felt a little lonely when Bob had to go on deployments. You began to heal and live with your injuries, especially with Bob’s help.

Oh, and he stayed true to his plan.

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navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games :)

#robert bob floyd x reader #bob floyd #bob floyd imagine #bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd #robert floyd #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick

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ceriphea · 1 year

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A Starry Night

Summary: A perfectly clear night left you to reminisce your time with Astarion. Allowing him to explore his own boundaries, he's finally made the plans to spend a night full of pleasure and joy out of his own free will with you.

Pairing: Astarion x Fem!Tav(Reader)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Smut, little plot, oral sex, graphic language

Words: 4065

Additional: I may have just created a whole new side tumblr and satisfied my urge to write this down despite not long ago saying I wouldn't be writing anymore. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the read! I aimed to keep from descriptions of Tav so you could picture your own as best as possible. :)

Read on Ao3

The night was quiet. Much quieter than usual. Quieter anyway since Lae’zel and Shadowheart decided to put peace on their bickering and allow another to live in each other’s presence. Most of the camp had been resting as it was your turn to keep watch for the night.

Not that there was much to look out for. If you don’t count random appearances of Mizora or vampire spawns. Most nights went by peacefully at this point. The only thing possibly interrupting a good night's rest were dunkards stumbling by the little camp your group had settled down in.

Your eyes were settled on the sky, clear as ever. Every single star was visible to your eyes and it brought a small smile across your lips. It reminded you of your first night with Astarion.

The two of you had started out as a fling. Something to make your situation a little more passable. After all, who didn’t enjoy good sex? However as time progressed and the more nights the two of you had spent together, the more the simple fun of having sex turned into feelings for another. It came easier for you than for the vampire.

Astarion was troubled, damaged from the years of torture and pain he had endured. The closer you became, the more you learned about his trauma. And that was how you learned that Astarion had not enjoyed himself during sex for a long time. Your initial reaction was hurt. Mainly because of your own trauma that you carry with yourself as well as the fact that you’d like to think you’d do well enough to please your partners. Though after the initial reaction you understood. For him sex had always been a technique for his victims. A mere measure to bait people into aiding to his will. And he did in fact enjoy what you two had just the drive was not what it was meant to be.

It was then, when you established your relationship with Astarion, showing him you cared about him beyond sex, that you told Astarion you wouldn’t have sex until he felt ready for enjoying it for the act that it is between two people that like each other. Not because he felt like he needed to just for the sake of it. To get an advantage out of it.

There were many times he had tried getting it on with you when you offered him your neck. He tried because he felt like he owed you for allowing him to drink off of you. However each time you turned him down for him to underline your point and make him understand he didn’t need to do something just to pay you back. It wasn’t like you didn’t want to have sex with him, you loved having him since he had been your best partner. You just wanted him to stop feeling like he was forced to have sex with no real meaning to him.

He understood after a while and now it had been a good amount of time since the last time you slept together. You couldn’t even recall how long exactly. Not that your mind was allowed to drift any further as the elf in question settled down to sit beside you.

“Pardon me, my love but I felt like my presence was required here,” Astarion said playfully, his red orbs gazing at you intently. Some of your thoughts must have slipped through to him thanks to that worm inside of your head. There was never any telling which thoughts you’d get to keep to yourself and which would be transferred over your illithid connection.

“Oh, did you now?” you inquired with a quirked brow aimed at him, trying to play it off like you haven’t been thinking all about him.

“Your thoughts are louder than you think, darling. It’s a surprise you haven’t woken up anyone else. Or perhaps they are now having sweet dreams about me,” he shrugged with a smirk, not once did his eyes leave yours. A slight blush crept upon your cheeks, fearing he heard more than you had expected. Not that it was anything to be ashamed of really but still, sometimes you liked to keep your thoughts to yourself.

“You wish,” scoffing, you rolled your eyes and let your eyes drift back to the sky again. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Astarion standing back up, his hand coming into your sight, an offer to help you up. “Come, I’d like to show you something.”

Once again your eyes met his before darting to his hand and back to his eyes. You were meant to keep watch and not exactly meant to go away from your post. And if you went with Astarion it could range anything from a few minutes to hours. As if he read your mind once again, the pale elf clicked his tongue and almost pushed his hand into your face.

“Come, no one is going to die. We’ll only be gone… shortly.” You knew he was full of shit but there was nothing else you could say against him. Finally placing your hand in his, Astarion pulled you to your feet. Instead of letting you go however, he pulled you in flush against him and pressed a peck to your lips. “There you go, now come on.”

Letting go of your hand, the vampire then started leading the way away from camp. It wasn’t exactly far but far enough to barely see the campfire flickering. The air here was slightly clearer, the streets now empty. It was rather late at night, anyone awake at this time was either at a tavern or in their homes.

“So where exactly are you taking me?” you asked, following your lover along. “If I tell you that would ruin the surprise. Now shush, we’re almost there.” A low chuckle escaped his throat. It was not exactly strange for him to have this sort of behavior, however something about him on this particular night just told you that he had something up his sleeve.

A minute or two later the two of you had arrived at a house, empty by the looks of it but kept well in shape. Astarions slight fingers worked on the lock before opening up the door and inviting you in as if it was his very own house. Did you just let him break into a random home without any complaint? Yes, you did. In many views the two of you had shared your perspectives and breaking into places was a common ground. Whether the group needed loot or your information was in it.

You figured that Astarion perhaps found some hidden treasure in here and wanted to reserve it for just you and him. It wouldn’t be the first time he had chosen to keep some valuables from the group in order to fend for you and him. But once you had entered the house, the elf swiftly moved behind you and chose to cover your eyes with his hands. You could feel his mouth near your ear by his warm breath first before he whispered, “Now walk as I tell you and keep those pretty eyes closed until I tell you to open them.”

Something about the way he spoke sent a tingle through your stomach and into your core. Perhaps it was a bit of deprivation of intimacy that made any sensual act like this even more exciting to you.

You trusted him with every single step, letting him guide you through the house that couldn’t be any quieter. Standing still for a moment, you heard him opening another door before your path continued shortly before you came to a final stop. “Open your eyes, my love,” his last words drew out in a seductive tone while his hands removed from your eyes. Opening them, you blinked a few times to adjust to the lighting in the room which was merely the night sky and the moon shining in through a wide set of windows.

Before you displayed a master bedroom, decorated neatly with a bed bigger than you’ve seen in the past few years of your adventures. This wasn’t just some treasure he had found, this was more. And the thought of it alone sent a contraction of urgency through your core, leaving a damp feeling in your pants. Oh, how weak you were. You didn’t dare speak, still taking in the room as Astarion came into view, a knowing smirk plastered on his face.

“What do you think, dear?” his voice was merely above a whisper while his eyes burned into yours. Slowly Astarion inched closer, close enough to wrap one of his arms around your lower back, pulling you flush against his chest. Even if you wouldn’t say anything, your hardened nipples pressing through your thin linen shirt against his chest would tell him everything.

“Who have you bribed to get in here?” you teased, not wanting to give into him too quickly. He knew how much you wanted him, you didn’t need to tell him.

“There was this drunk dwarf tumbling through the streets. I may have convinced him that this is in fact not his home. And by the looks of it, it may very well not be. Not for tonight anyway,” of course Astarion had to respond in a snarky manner just before his voice turned seductive again. You knew where this was going. And this time around, you weren’t going to stop him. All his last attempts had been whenever it wasn’t really convenient, mostly out in the open. This time he had taken the effort to find a nice and comfortable bed, a place of warmth.

“But you and I both know we aren’t here to talk about such unimportant matters. Rather we are here because I want to devour you,” he started, his voice dangerously low while his eyes darkened in desire, “I want to love on you. Every single inch of you.”

He had barely touched you and yet your cunt was getting drenched in arousal by the second. It had been a while since Astarion voiced his desires for you in this way and oh, it was a turn on. The room immediately felt a dozen degrees hotter as your lips crashed against Astarions, moving in a passionate pattern while his hand that was initially resting along your waist from being wrapped around you, moved down to cup your ass. One of your hands slid up his chest and further up until it was settled on the back of his head, grasping a handful of his hair while the vampire deepened the kiss. A small moan escaped your lips when the hand on your ass gave you a firm squeeze. You were almost sure that were his fingers to wander further inward and to your core, he could feel your wetness through your linen pants.

Though instead of wandering to your core, his hand wandered to the back of your thigh, his other hand joining on the other thigh before he picked you up. Both your legs immediately wrapped around his waist. Within a few quick strides Astarion carried you over to the bed and more or less dropped you onto the soft sheets.

Once more your lips met in a matter of passion and lust while the vampires hands now made their way to explore your body, tugging at your shirt in order to remove your clothing from your body. You were just about to interrupt the kiss and stop his wandering hands for a moment in order to ask him if he was certain this was what he wanted. That’s when your tadpoles connected and he let you know that this was something he wanted out of his own free will. Something he wanted to enjoy.

And therefore you only deepened the kiss, allowing your own hands to wander his body now, tugging at his very own shirt and pulling it over his head. Astarion used that moment to remove your shirt as well just before his mouth latched back onto you. This time however his lips met your collarbone, actively leaving out your neck. He did his best kissing your skin and nibbling at you without letting his teeth graze your skin. Your eyes closed as the vampire moved to devour you just as he had announced before.

Starting at your collarbone, his lips traveled down towards your breasts. While his hands cupped your round mounds, his tongue darted out tracing a wet line from the top of your breast to your hardened nipple and around it before his lips closed down on the sensitive nub providing it with a short sense of suction before letting his normal teeth tease for a moment. Then he moved on to do the exact same thing to your other breast. You couldn’t help but moan in pleasure, indecisive whether you wanted to close your eyes and simply enjoy the feeling or whether you wanted to watch him with his intense stare on you, aching to give you the pleasure he feels you deserve.

The choice came easy as your eyes automatically closed the second his lips started traveling further south past your navel and to the hem of your pants. Elegant fingers slipped right beneath the hem, taking your underwear with them as Astarion removed your pants in one go, leaving you entirely bare in front of him.

Only now that a slight breeze of air met your core, you realized just how wet you were. It was a surprise you hadn’t completely drenched your pants between your legs. Taking one of your ankles in hand, Astarion began peppering kisses all along the inside of your leg, positioning your leg angled on the bed and letting his lips travel until he almost met your core. Then he moved onto the other leg, once again mirroring the exact same motions which now had you with your legs spread and Astarions head lingering right in front of your raging hot core. “I want you to look at me while I feast on that delicious cunt of yours,” his voice was even lower now, arousal and hunger clouding his own senses while his hot breath fanned against your wetness. Just as he ordered you opened your eyes and glanced down at the elf between your legs. He looked like he had been starving for weeks and had the first real meal in front of him. And just like that he settled in and wrapped his arms around your thighs to hold you in place as his tongue darted out between your folds, licking a long stripe up to your pulsating clit.

Once there his tongue ran slow circles around it. Once, twice and then his lips closed around the sensitive nub. He varied the pressure of his suction, earning several moans from you while it became increasingly more difficult not to roll your eyes into the back of your head and crumble under the pleasure you were feeling. Eventually he released your clit only to drag his tongue back through your folds, working you in all your favorite patterns. It didn’t take particularly long until you could feel your orgasm building up, blame it on the amount of time it had been since the two of you had sex.

Astarion could tell you were getting close, his thumb finding your clit to rub circles on it while his tongue kept swirling around your folds as well as penetrating your core to pleasure those sweet spots inside of you. Without warning your vision blurred while your insides contracted, attempting to clench around a cock yet being left empty while your orgasm rushed through you.

The vampire consumed every drop of your cum, working you through your orgasm until your hips stopped twitching. Your chest was heaving from your previous release, eyes once again meeting Astarion when he slowly withdrew himself from you if only to get rid of the rest of his clothing. His erection was standing tall and proud, precum smeared all across his tip. You licked your lips at the view. He moved in closer until he was leaning above you, almost getting into position. However you wanted to return the favor as much as you were dying to feel him inside of you. Your first thought was to just toss him over and take the upper hand, however this was all about giving him the choice. So you opted to give him the choice once more.

Before he had lined himself up at your entrance, you covered yourself with a hand and gazed straight into his eyes as he met yours with confusion. “May I suck you off?”

To others it may have seemed like a stupid thing to ask, however you wanted him to know he had all the freedom in the world to choose what he wanted. Astarion remained confused for a second or two more before capturing himself and nodding. “Of course darling, I’d love nothing more than to feel those sweet and luscious lips around my cock.”

His voice was almost like a purr as he removed himself from above you and settled down on the bed, leaned up against the headpost while you scrambled up to position yourself between his legs. Your core was still pulsating from your release or was it the need of being filled by that long and thick shaft that stood tall and proud in front of your face?

One soft hand wrapped around his shaft, giving it a pump or two as your lips traced kisses along his thighs until they settled at his balls, traveling up the length of him slowly until you reached his tip. Your hand settled at the base of his shaft, holding him in place now while your tongue slowly swirled around his tip, earning low moans from the vampire. You could tell he was less used to this sort of act as his eyes darted between arousal and uncertainty. With help of your tadpole you let him know that he was allowed to stop you whenever he felt like he needed to.

Your lips wrapped around his tip all the while your tongue still swirled around him. Keeping the pace slow, you slowly started taking him more into your mouth, relaxing your throat in order to take him as much as your body would allow. His breath hitched within his throat, chest heaving with pleasure while his eyes never left yours. Picking up the pace, your head started bobbing along his length, using the hand at the base of his cock to stroke whatever you couldn’t fit into your mouth.

It wasn’t long however until Astarion gently pulled you off of his cock by your hair. His eyes had an apologetic touch within them before he spoke. “I need to have you, my love,” he spoke in an urgency. You understood and you wanted him to be in full control. “And I need you,” you responded with a gentle smile as you leaned up to capture his lips with yours. Your release still lingered on his lips, shooting another wave of heat right through to your core.

Astarion didn’t waste time deepening the kiss, easily spinning the two of you around in order to have you pinned beneath him again. With ease he settled between your legs, allowing his length to slide along your wetness a couple of times before reaching between you in order to line himself up with your entrance.

With one long push the vampire filled you with his entire length, stretching your insides deliciously. A gasp left your mouth at the fullness you had missed all this time. Astarion couldn’t keep himself from letting out a shaky breath either. He remained still within you for a moment or two, simply relishing in the feeling of your insides contracting around him over and over as your insides adjusted to the feeling of him inside of you.

“Please, fuck me…” you whispered against his lips, unable to take the stillness of him inside you any longer. Without any further notice, he withdrew himself almost entirely from you only to slide his entire length into you again. He kept on repeating the motion until he had picked up a moderate pace, each thrust earning a moan from you. You could tell it was different. Astarion had always been a rough lover. Fast and hard thrusts were his thing. Just a small glimpse at his face told you the whole story. Of how he was taking it slow in order to find his pleasure, his desire for this. His lips were kissing along your collarbone again, moving up to your neck until he hesitated.

Noticing the hesitation, your hand came up to the back of his head, bringing him in closer to your neck. You knew exactly what he was getting at. Or why he was hesitating. “Do it,” you moaned softly with his next thrust and that was all the confirmation he needed. His teeth immediately dug into the soft skin of your neck, the stinging pain feeling yet so pleasurable.

As he was drinking from you, Astarion had picked up his pace, his thrusts becoming rougher and quicker. At this point he barely pulled even halfway out before his cock slammed back into you, brushing past all the good spots. Your moans picked up in volume, the mixed feeling of your cunt being pounded while your neck was being fed on combined an amount of pleasure you couldn’t even describe.

Astarion felt it too, the pleasure of the entire situation, how tasting your blood made his cock turn indefinitely harder, how your cunt clenched and your thighs quivered with each of his thrusts. And he knew that all of this was because he wanted it. Not because he had to gain advantage for something or to manipulate someone. He released your throat for a moment, the blood running down your neck and dripping onto the pillow beneath you, if only to moan out your name, “Tav..” he grunted, knowing his release was near. Slyly lifting your legs a little over his waist, you caused his cock to change the angle within you, brushing right past your g-spot and close to hitting your cervix with every thrust.

“Astarion..” you moaned in return, feeling your own release coming in closer. His head lifted from your neck, wanting to see your face and he hooked his arms underneath your knees and essentially lifted you up higher as his hips pounded against you. The sound of skin slapping against skin as well as both of your moans echoed throughout the room. It only took one more thrust and you were sent over the edge. Your thighs quivered against his hold, hips twitching and insides clenching wildly as your second orgasm of the night rushed through you. It felt like you lost control over your body as you were not able to control a single movement.

Seeing your pleasure filled self, Astarion pushed himself deep inside of you, his body coming to rest flush against you as his release emptied all the way inside you, his own hips stuttering with just how much he came.

Once he emptied himself entirely and both your bodies calmed from the intensity of your orgasms, he pulled his member out and settled on the non-bloody side of the bed, pulling you into his tight embrace.

“That was marvelous, darling…” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, not minding the blood remaining at the corners of his mouth. “Thank you.”

His voice was sincere and you knew this was it. He found his control. His own will. The one thing you had been working on with him. “Not for this, my beloved.” You countered softly, finding his lips for a kiss. You stopped caring for the taste of blood a long time ago.

The two of you had laid together, calming from your highs for a while longer. However this was not the end of the night just yet. You lost count of just how many times the two of you had sex that night. All you knew was that your shift of staying guard for the camp was long forgotten.

#baldur's gate 3 #astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x you #astarion x reader #astarion x female reader #astarion x fem!tav #fanfic #fanfiction

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sunflowergirl522 · 1 year

Text

Max's Sister

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Mayfield!Reader

Summary: You’re officially moved to Hawkins after finishing school and Max bets Eddie that he’ll fall for you by the time summers up.

Word Count: 8706

A/n: The ending feels rushed to me but hopefully won’t for you.

Eddie Masterlist

“Hey Red, you ready to head to the arcade!” Eddie walks right into the Mayfield trailer without knocking like he’d normally do when he was coming over to get Max and her mom wasn’t home.

Ever since Max was able to go home from the hospital with broken bones and partial blindness Eddie’s been there to keep her company every second he could. And once she was good enough to walk again he was there to help her get adjusted to her surroundings so she wasn’t always bumping into stuff she couldn’t see. Eddie took up the big brother role she never had and the two of them became thick as thieves. And as soon as her arms and hands were good enough Eddie decided that Wednesdays would be arcade days where even partially blind she beat his ass at games.

“You must be Eddie.” He freezes when he enters the living room and sees you sitting on the floor in front of the couch. His mind blanks as he watches you stand revealing your bare legs that were previously hidden beneath the coffee table.

“Um, yeah that’s me. Sorry but who’re you?” You look familiar and he has a feeling that he’s definitely seen you before and that would explain why you were sitting in Max’s living room in your pajamas but he couldn’t figure it out for the life of him.

“I’m Max’s sister, Y/n.” You step closer to him and can almost physically see the light bulb go on in his head. “I’ve heard a lot about you Eddie.” You beg yourself to keep it together and choke back the grateful tears that want to well up in your eyes.

“Hope it was all good things.” One of his hands rubs the back of his neck and he lets out a nervous chuckle while his other reaches out for you to shake. You can feel the urge to cry crawling and clawing its way up your throat so you’re quick to grab his hand and pull him into a hug leaving your tearful face hidden in his chest.

“Thank you.” At hearing how shaky your voice is Eddie doesn’t even think about it before he’s wrapping his arms tight around you. “Thank you for taking such good care of her when I couldn’t.”

There’s no way Eddie could know how incredibly grateful you are that he’s been there for Max after the accident. You’re still not even completely sure how it happened, all you know is that the minute your mom called to let you know she was in the hospital you were ready to leave everything in Cali, your friends, school, your job, behind to be by her side. If it wasn’t for your mom reminding you that Max would want you to finish getting your degree and promising to constantly call you with updates you would’ve. You spent every minute then working on finishing your degree going as far as to overload your course load and taking summer courses, sure it meant you haven’t been able to come home to Max and see her but it meant you’d be able to move to Hawkins to be with her permanently sooner.

“It really isn’t that big of a deal, she’s cool and fun to be around, but you’re welcome.”

“Eddie, did I hear you come in?” Max comes into the room and the two of you break apart. You’re quick to wipe your face dry before Max can get close enough to see the damage but he does see it. And immediately he can tell how much your sister means to you.

“Yeah Red, you still wanna go to the arcade? I didn’t realize your sister was in town.”

“She’s been hovering over me like I’m made of glass.” She groans in a playful way as she makes her way over to the two of you slower than she would’ve before she lost most of her sight. “She’s here for good now so it doesn’t matter if we go to the arcade.”

“Do you want me to come with you?” You ask her after putting your arm around her shoulder and bringing her close to your side. Eddie wants to tell you yes seeing the want to come in your eyes but keeps his mouth shut leaving it up to Max.

“No, you can come next time or something but you have to start looking for a job so you can get out of my hair.” You roll your eyes at her.

“You’re right, where are your glasses?” Max groans again for real this time and moves away from you and closer to Eddie.

“Don’t make me wear those, they make me look like a nerd. They don’t even help!”

“That’s a lie and you know it! You bump into things way less when you have them on.” You point an accusatory finger at her before putting your hands on your hips and pursing your lips. Eddie can’t help but think you look like a mom at this moment. Which makes him wonder if you had helped raise her growing up knowing how absent her mom is now.

“Fine. I hate when you go all older sibling mode on me. They’re in my room, can you get them for me?” Your face softens and you nod before walking away. “C’mon Eddie lets go before she comes back.”

“Nuh uh, no way. I didn’t even know you had glasses to help you see.” If he did he would’ve been making sure she was wearing them himself all this time.

“They’re Coke bottles Eddie!”

“Don’t care Red. Maybe they’ll prevent that headache you get from straining your eyes too much.” Every week after they’d get back from the arcade she’d have a migraine and Eddie’s been getting suspicious that the headaches start while they’re there but she’s so stubborn that she doesn’t tell him because he’ll decide it's time to leave.

“Found them!” You enter the room again and put them on Max’s face for her.

“They aren’t that bad.” They’re thick for sure, like magnifying glasses, but Eddie’s definitely seen thicker on some of his old classmates. “They only make you look a little bit like a nerd.”

“Shut up, she doesn’t look like a nerd. You look so cool Maxy!” You shove Eddie with your shoulder as if you’ve known each other forever.

“C’mon Eddie let’s go. Bye Y/n!”

“Bye Max, love you!”

“So,” Eddie starts later at the diner he always takes Max to after the arcade, “your sister seems cool.”

“Yeah she’s pretty great.” She shrugs and takes another bite of her burger. “Fifty bucks says you’re gonna fall in love with her by the time summer's up.” He chokes on his coke mid sip.

“What?!”

“Just saying, she’s amazing and you’re not even gonna know what to do with yourself when you actually get to know her. And you’ll be spending a lot of time with her this summer since you’re always around now.”

“What about that makes you think I’m gonna fall in love with her?”

“Well for one, pretty girls make you weak and she’s incredibly pretty, it comes with the California air.” Eddie wants to argue that you’re way more than just pretty but bites his tongue not wanting Max to think she was right. “Two she’s got one hell of a music taste. Same goes for her taste in movies even though if she makes me rewatch one more Muppet movie I’ll scream.”

“I doubt you’ve had to watch that many.” Eddie laughs at how distraught Max looks at the thought of watching another one.

“Eddie you don’t understand, she hasn’t even been here for a week and she’s rewatched them all twice. She’s got this thing where like anything Jim Henson works on instantly becomes one of her favorites.”

“He’s the guy who worked on that movie Labyrinth that came out a while ago right?”

“Yeah, though I don’t think she’s seen that one yet. She hasn’t really done much of anything other than school and work since I was in the hospital so I don’t even think she remembers it came out.”

“Sounds like we should have a movie night.”

“See you’re already planning to do stuff that’ll make her happy! Just wait, I’m telling you Eds when you get to know her you’ll be absolutely smitten.” Eddie just shakes his head at the girl in front of him ignoring the tugging feeling in his gut that she might be right.

“Oh! Hello again Eddie!” You beam at him after you open the door to the trailer and he takes in your apparel of distressed shorts and striped shirt. “Max isn’t here, mom took her for her check up at the doctors.”

“I know, we talked about doing a movie night and I thought maybe you’d wanna get out of the house and come with me to pick up the movie.” Eddie kicks at a rock by his feet suddenly getting nervous about coming over here to ask. The feeling doesn’t last for long though because you almost immediately light up at the offer nodding enthusiastically.

“I’d like that. Give me one second.” You hold up a finger before disappearing into the trailer leaving the door wide open. It’s not long before you’re rushing back sandals in hand and locking the door behind you. “Lead the way Eddie boy!”

“How have you been enjoying Hawkins so far?” Eddie asks as he walks towards his van, you following close behind.

“It’s alright. I haven’t actually been to many places yet. Just the hospital and the middle school. I’ve been meaning to check out the arcade though.” You hop into the passenger seat after he holds the door open for you.

“Well maybe you can come with us on Wednesday. Maybe I’ll finally beat a Mayfield for once.” He responds after getting in the driver's seat and starting the van up. You laugh and look away from the sandals you’re strapping to your feet at him. His heart skips a beat at the sound immediately wanting to hear it again.

“You can dream but I was the one who taught Max everything she knows. If you can’t beat her, you definitely won’t beat me.”

“That sounds like a challenge.” He glances at you from the corner of his eye in time to see you shrug.

“Take it whatever way you want, big guy.”

“Big guy?” Eddie chuckles at the nickname. He was never really a big guy growing up or even now so it’s odd hearing someone reference him as that.

“Yeah, you’re tall, a little broad, and I’m sure you’re strong. Do you want me to call you something else?”

“No big guy is fine.” You smile down at your feet as you finish strapping the other sandal to your left foot. “Did you move here with Max and then go back to California?”

“No. I was in my senior year when they moved and since I didn’t want to have to move in my last year and I was almost eighteen mom let me stay behind with dad. And then I went to college over there with my friends instead of coming here because I knew the area already.” Eddie parks in front of the store and the two of you get out. “I’ve come here to visit a few times but after the accident Max was in I never had the time to come because I did extra courses each term and did summer classes so I could finish sooner and come home to be with her.” You continue explaining on the short walk into the building.

“Welcome to Family Video can I help- is that you Mayfield?” You look up to find Steve behind the counter and smile at him.

“Sure is Harrington! You miss me?”

“Are you kidding? Of course!”

“I’ll grab the movie and meet you back here.” You nod to Eddie and he takes one more glance at the excited look on Steve’s face as he makes his way around the counter and towards you before walking away.

“What are you doing here?” You take a few steps further into the store to meet Steve halfway and bring him into a hug.

“I’m here for good now. I finally finished my degree.”

“That’s awesome! Do you have a job lined up yet?”

“I left my application at the high school and middle school so I’m just waiting to see if they’ll call. But I don’t know what I’ll do if they don’t.”

“I’m sure they will, we had a lot of teachers leave Hawkins after the earthquake. Dustin was telling me that they had gym teachers trying to teach science.”

“Look who I found roaming the shelves!”

“Y/n, you remember Robin right?”

“Of course, hi!” You wave to her before turning your attention to Eddie. “So what did you pick?”

“The Labyrinth.” You let out an elated gasp before taking the movie from his hands to make sure you weren’t getting punked.

“No way. I’ve been meaning to watch this since it came out but I’ve been so busy.”

“Yeah, Max may have mentioned how much you love Jim Henson and that she wasn’t sure you’ve seen this yet.” Eddie rubs the back of his neck with a sheepish smile on his face and you look up beaming at him. The next thing he knows you’re wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into an excited hug where he can basically feel you vibrating with it. The hug doesn’t last long, he doesn’t even have time to wrap his own arms around you before you’re pulling away and putting it on the counter for Steve to ring up.

“On the house, think of it as a welcome back present.” He just pushes it back to you before grabbing the other box of movies that needs to be put on shelves and giving it to Robin.

“Oh, thanks Steve! We should hang out sometime soon. I don’t really leave the trailer so you could just stop by whenever or give me a call and we could do something.”

“That sounds good, I’ll come by on my next day off. Which will probably be Monday.” He leans on the counter as he answers and you grab the movie from in front of him.

“See you then! Come on Eddie, Max should be on her way home soon.” You grab his hand on your way out and give a backwards wave with the movie to Steve as you pull him with you out the door. “We should get a pizza. I doubt anything here will be as good as Surfer Boy out in Cali but you can’t do a movie night without it.”

“That’s a great idea Sweetheart.” Eddie can’t tear his eyes away from your joined hands until you split off to go to the passengers side of the van and you have a hard time suppressing the butterflies in your stomach at the sudden nickname.

“I’m home! Mom’s not, she dropped me off and went straight to work.” Max announces herself getting yours and Eddie's attention in the kitchen. As soon as it registers in your head that she’s back you abandon your spot at the counter making lemonade to greet her.

“What’d the doctors say this visit?”

“Just that my bones have healed nicely and checked my reflexes like always.” She shrugs as she kicks off her shoes.

“What about your eyesight?”

“It’s not better but it’s not worse either. The same it’s been since I got out of the hospital. Do I smell pizza?” It’s her desperate attempt to change the subject. Max hates answering these types of questions because it doesn’t matter what they say or how often she wears those stupid glasses her sight will never get better than it is now. And she should just enjoy what little she has of it left because when she first broke out of Vecna's trance she thought she was completely blind.

“Yeah, we picked one up after getting the movie. Eddie’s here by the way.” You let the subject change, wanting to know everything and nothing all at the same time.

“Oh is he now?” There’s a lilt to her voice that you’re not used to hearing but don’t focus on it as she beelines for where she hears him moving around in the kitchen probably finishing the lemonade you left unfinished. You let her go off to the kitchen by herself and take her distraction with Eddie as an opportunity to move the couch a little bit closer to the tv so she’ll be able to see a little better.

“Don’t say anything.” Eddie says after taking one look at the redhead who just joined him in the kitchen.

“I wasn’t gonna say anything.”

“Mhm sure, then why do you look like you have something to say?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugs and there’s a pause while he finishes mixing the batch of lemonade that has too much sugar in it. “It’s just that you going to get the movie and pizza with her gives you lots of free time to get to know my sister. I wonder why you would do that.” She taps her chin in mock thought and Eddie groans before a thought pops into his head.

“How does she know Steve?” He meant to ask you earlier after leaving Family Video but got distracted when you started talking about what toppings should go on the pizza. His question, or rather how he asked it, causes Max to let out a laugh.

“That’s for you to find out I suppose.” She joins you back in the living room then where you’re too focused on putting the movie in and setting up the pizza boxes on the small table in front of the couch to pay attention to what they’re talking about. Eddie’s left there once more with the lemonade not waiting long to join the two of you with the plastic pitcher in hand.

The rest of the weekend Eddie spends over your place hanging out with Max and getting to know you better. Most of the time he found a way to rope you into whatever they ended up doing so he’d have an excuse to talk to you while ignoring the jumping eyebrows and smirks Max kept shooting his way. The more time he spends around you the more he feels that Max may have been right and he might be out fifty dollars at the end of summer. But as much as he wants to prove her wrong for once, because somehow Max is always right, you’re too cool for him to want to pull away from.

So he decided to let Max be right about this and hope that maybe when you get to know him you’ll like him just as much. That thought is what led him to your door Monday morning when he knew Max was out with the rest of the kids. He knocks instead of walking straight in, like he normally would, not wanting to make you uncomfortable in your own space.

“Coming! You got here really fast, didn’t we like just hang up?” You open the door while trying to shove your sneaker on with one hand and when you look up to find Eddie standing there shock takes over your face. “Oh hey Eddie, Max won’t be home till later.”

“No, I know. I uh, I was coming over for you. To um, see if you wanted to maybe hangout.” He stumbles over his words and he wants to bang his head against a wall. You smile at that, your insides warming up at Eddie wanting to spend time with just you.

“That sounds great Eddie but, I actually have plans with Steve.” Eddie’s heart falls into his stomach like a rock.

“I’ll head back home then. Have a good time!” He waves as he turns around and starts walking back across the street to his trailer.

“Eddie, wait!” Your hand on his wrist causes him to turn to face you and he notices immediately that you left the door wide open. He wonders if you even noticed you do that. Because it’s something he noticed almost immediately after being around you as much as he has been this weekend. You’re always leaving the door open or shutting it with your keys still inside it. If he was the last one in, he would double check to make sure they weren’t still in the door.

“Do you wanna come with us?” Your voice brings his attention back to your face.

“I don’t wanna intrude.” Especially if it was supposed to be a date.

“You wouldn’t be. We’re just going to see the new Friday the Thirteenth movie. And honestly it’d be nice to not have to third wheel Steve and Robin.” You knew they weren’t together, but they were truly platonic soulmates and being with just the two of them was awkward sometimes once they started doing their weird conversing without really talking thing.

“Robin’s going too?” So definitely not a date then.

“Well yeah, aren’t they always like a package deal?” Maybe you were wrong but the few times you’ve been here and around them they were always together.

“You’re right, as I’m starting to learn you always are.” A trait he can only guess Max got from you and has him wondering yet again how involved you were in raising her.

“So do you wanna come?”

“Yeah, sounds like a good time.” Your smile lights up your face at his agreement and he knows he would agree to anything if it meant he got to see it happen again. “Do you need anything else from inside?”

“No. Why?” You squint your eyes and tilt your head wondering why he could be asking.

“You left the door open.” You follow his head nod toward the front of your trailer and let out a soft ‘oh’ before heading back over to shut and lock it. Steve pulls up just as you pull the key out of the lock.

“Hey Ed boy! You coming with us?” Robin sticks her head, but really more like the upper half of her body, out the window to talk to Eddie. He turns and starts a conversation with her and Steve when he leans forward to see around his best friend. Meanwhile you freeze a little on your way to the car. You knew Robin was coming, but somehow didn’t realize that meant you’d be sitting in the back seat.

“You sure you don’t want me to drive Steve? That way you don’t have to worry about bringing me home later or anything.”

“No, it’s fine I’m used to driving everyone around.” Steve says this with a smile on his face and absolutely zero malice in his voice. If there’s one thing you know about Steve Harrington from the few times you’ve gotten to know him over the years it was that he likes taking care of the people he loves. Eddie however unlike his friend noticed the hesitance in your voice and your walk up to the car.

“I can drive you if you want Sweetheart. I was going to drive myself anyway.” He wasn’t. “I gotta stop at the store for some more milk after the movie.” He didn’t, he and Wayne still had an almost full gallon in the fridge.

“That’s perfect actually because Max asked me to grab more Pop Tarts or cereal at some point today. Do you care if I go with Eddie, Steve?”

“Nah, we’ll meet you guys there then?”

“Yep!” He gives a wave before driving off leaving you with Eddie again.

“Come on darlin’ let's roll.” Eddie takes his keys out of his pocket and swings them around his finger before leading the way across the street to his van. He doesn’t let it show how relieved he is that they didn’t fly off and hit him in the face again and that he got to look cool in front of you.

“Thanks for driving me, big guy.” He holds the door open for you and you pat his cheek as you climb in in thanks, something you would do with your friends in California if they weren’t comfortable with cheek kisses.

“It’s no problem really.” He closes the door once you’re fully seated and makes his way over to his side. “So how come you didn’t want Steve to drive you?” He asks as he backs out of his spot. You’re momentarily stunned at how good he looks while doing it. Your eyes trail from the hand that’s resting on your seat up his arm until your eyes meet his concentrated face.

“It’s not so much that I didn't want him to drive. I just get carsick when I’m in the back sometimes and it makes me nervous with people I’m not used to being in cars with. There’s just so many different variables that go into it like how big the car is, how they drive, how long I’m in the car for, etcetera.” You’re silent for a minute before panicky turning to face Eddie. “Oh God do you think Steve caught on that I didn’t wanna get in the car with him? He probably got the wrong idea completely.”

“Hey, calm down sugar.” His hand goes to your knee without thinking and the warmth of it on your bare skin helps to calm you. Unconsciously your own hand lays on top of his to keep it there. “Steve’s smart but he’s not the best at reading people all the time. If you want I can find a way to bring up car sickness in some way so you can say you have it?”

“No, it’s fine I’ll just see if he brings it up and then explain it. Thank you though, it’s so sweet of you to offer to do that for me.”

“Of course! And if you want I can just be your permanent chauffeur and make sure you always get shotgun when you aren’t driving.” He’s definitely offering so he gets to spend even more time with you.

“That would be great!” You’re definitely agreeing to spend more time with him too. “Thanks again Eddie.” This time you do kiss him on the cheek in thanks but turn your head towards the window before you can see him start to glow pink. In your lap your hands twine together like your bodies already know that the two of you should be together before your brains do.

“So how do you know Steve?” Eddie finally asks the question that he’s been dying to over pizza after the movie with his arm draped over the back end of the booth the two of you are sharing.

“Oh, I met him years ago when I came home for the first summer after they moved.”

“She was so excited after everything Max told her about me that she flung herself into my arms.” Steve chimes in, pointing a fry in your direction as he says it.

“I did not fling myself into your arms.” You laugh as you speak. “It was sorta similar to how we met Eddie. I brought him into a hug and thanked him for sticking up for Max and beating up Billy before asking him all about what it was like.”

“I’m sure he forgot to bring up how Billy ended up getting the upper hand in the end.” Robin adds getting a betrayed look from Steve because he did in fact withhold that information from you.

“Oh he definitely did but Max had already told me that and how she then saved him by knocking Billy out with some drug. But I didn’t wanna bruise his ego or anything so I let it go.” You shrug and look back over at Eddie. “And then I met Robin when I visited the summer that the mall burned down except I got here after it happened. And admittedly haven’t been around much since, just a week or so here and there before like radio silence for two years.”

“Yeah, not even a phone call or anything, Mike was giving us updates as much as Max was with what he got from Will or El.”

“Were you close with Will and El?”

“I mean El became Max’s best friend so of course I got to know her and Will’s such a great kid it’s hard to not want to be close with them. They all moved into a neighborhood not far from my campus and I helped them get situated into their house and stopped by when I could to see how they were all doing or to hang out with Jonathan and Argyle.” You have to look away from Eddie as you speak because if he keeps looking at you like he wants to know every nook and cranny in you you fear you’ll do something drastic like kiss him.

“You should’ve been here when Eddie and Will met. They both completely freaked out.” Steve changes the subject from you at the mention of Will.

“Don’t even try to deny it, Ed boy.” Robin joins in interrupting Eddie as he opens his mouth to speak. “Will was so excited to meet the cool older dungeon master his friends always told him about. And Eddie was super psyched to meet zombie boy Will Byers who was just as into the game they play as he is.”

“I can totally see that.”

“When did you say Max was coming home Sweetheart?” Eddie leans closer to you the smallest bit as he asks. And Steve and Robin look at eachother with the latter mouthing the nickname to the former.

“Oh probably around like four or five. Why, what time is it?”

“Its…” he brings his wrist in front of him to check his watch and you lean over to have a look too, “almost three.”

“And we still have to make a stop at the store so you can get your milk. Do you think we should go now?”

“If you’re still planning on being home when she gets back we probably should.”

As the two of you talk Robin and Steve communicate in their weird best friend platonic soulmate way where they don’t talk about how the conversation is going. Steve motions over, look at this. Robin nods and widens her eyes, I know right, before making a motion with her hands and letting her lips quirk up, ir’s domestic as shit. Steve rubs two fingers together, wanna make a bet.

“Do you guys care if we get going?” You ask already standing up from the booth to let Eddie out.

“Not at all.” Robin pushes Steve out of the booth so she can hug you goodbye. “We should definitely do this again soon. And if we can’t meet up for a movie or anything you should stop by the store and I’ll show you my sweet setup in the back where I watch movies.”

“That sounds great!” You hug her back excited to have gotten to know her better. “I think that movie Willow comes out this friday, we could go see that if nothing comes up.”

“Perfect! Eddie has my number written down somewhere so he can give it to you later and you can give me a call or something.” You nod and take a step back to stand next to Eddie.

“Bye guys. Thanks again for pizza Steve.”

“No problem, see you around.” Eddie gives them a mock salute before grabbing your hand and leading the way out to the van.

“So what do you do, like for work?” You look back at Eddie over your shoulder as you grab a basket and lead the way further into the store.

“I work at the auto body shop in town, have been since my junior year of high school.” He blindly follows you through the store and down the cereal aisle as he answers.

“That’s cool.” You grab a box of Cap’n Crunch before thinking it over and grabbing a second one to add to the basket. “That mean I get a discount if my car starts acting up, since we’re becoming such great friends?” Eddie genuinely can’t tell if you’re flirting with him or not - you are - but it feels like it so he flirts back a red hue making its way to his cheeks.

“For you Sweetheart, it’s free. Gotta make sure you don’t go breaking down or anything.” He only gets a glimpse of the smile on your face when you turn to go down the next aisle. “What are you planning on doing for work?”

“I got my degree in teaching so I’m hoping that I get a call from one of the schools soon.”

“I’m sure you will. They’d be stupid not to, you’ll be a great teacher.”

“You think so?” You’ve got a bigger different type of smile on your face when you turn to face him, a box of brown cinnamon pop tarts in your hands.

“I know so. You’ve got this thing about you that screams trust me with your kids.” He spreads his hands out by his face in showmanship that earns him a laugh. He smiles at it and stuffs his hands into his pockets. “For real though, you have fun teacher vibes written all over you.”

“Thanks.” Heat rushes to your face at the compliment. It’s been your dream for what feels like forever to be a teacher and be able to be one of those people to help kids like so many of your past ones did for you. And as much as your mom and dad and friends have told you that you’d be great at it, something about Eddie saying it made you elated. It definitely wasn’t because of the not so small crush that’s started developing, no way. “Now let’s get that milk you need and head home.”

“Milk?” You miss the confused word as you turn around and lead the way out of the aisle. Eddie follows while trying to figure out why he would need to get milk when there was plenty at home to last them another couple days.

“Which kind do you and Wayne normally get?” Your question jogs his memory as he finally remembers using the whole ‘I have to go to the store so I was going to drive anyways’ excuse to get you into his van instead of Steve’s car.

“The blue one, whichever that is.”

“Do you mean two percent or do you mean skim?” Your eyebrows furrow in confusion as you open the fridge door to grab whichever he says.

“Whichever one is blue.” Eddie’s voice sounds distracted and when you look back at him you notice his attention drawn to a stray balloon floating up to the ceiling.

“Eddie.” An amused laugh escapes you and pulls his attention back to you. “They’re both blue. Do you not know what kind of milk you drink?”

“I know what kind of milk we drink, scoot.” His mock defensiveness and how he pushes you out of the way so it looks like he’s shoving but really it’s just a nudge causes you to let out a louder, longer laugh. Eddie has to fight with the goofy smile that wants to spread across his face so he can keep the act going. “See, it’s the blue one.” He brandishes a jug of milk with a dark blue lid and label triumphantly.

“Okay and what kind of milk is that?” Eddie goes to turn the jug around to read it. “Without looking.”

“Does it matter? If they wanted us to distinguish it by what type they are then they wouldn’t be color coded.” He huffs out in defeat before hooking his arm around your shoulder and steers you towards check out. “Don’t we have a little sister we gotta get you home to?”

“Oh, hi Eddie.” Max opens the door to greet him two days later. “I’m almost ready to go. Come in but be quiet because she’s on the phone.” She turns to head back to her room to finish getting all of her change together for the arcade and Eddie shuts the door behind him before heading into the living room. He notices you standing in the kitchen phone pressed against your ear. You look over at him as soon as he shows up and offer him a smile and wave before turning to face the wall to not get distracted by him. Eddie can tell it’s an important call by how you twirl the cord around your finger and keep a professional tone to your voice.

“Yeah, I can come by whatever time works best for you tomorrow.” A minute of silence while you listen to whoever is on the other line. “Okay, see you at two tomorrow. Bye.” You wait until the phone is hung back up on the wall before letting out a little happy yell and jumping up and down a couple times.

“Did you get it?” Max shows up next to Eddie looking excited and rushes to hug you when you nod and let out an excited ‘yes’. “I knew it!”

“What’s going on?”

“That was the principal of the high school, I have to go in tomorrow to see where I would fit best and go over a few things but I’m gonna teach next school year!”

“That’s amazing! I told you you would.” He takes a few steps towards you before you make your own way into his arms for a celebratory hug. “You’re gonna be a great teacher.” He whispers into your ear causing a shiver to travel down your spine. “You should come with us today to celebrate. We can stop by Family Video after the arcade so you can tell Steve and Robin about the good news.”

“That sounds perfect. Let me grab Max’s glasses and my rolls of quarters and we can go.” Max groans and rolls her eyes at the mention of her glasses while you rush off.

At the arcade Eddie mainly just watches while you and Max fight over breaking high scores and play against each other. But he’s not upset about it, it’s nice to see such a big smile on your face as you rub it in Max’s that you beat her score before she shoves you out of the way to try to get it back. And this is easily the liveliest he’s seen Max ever, sure she’s happy and excited when it’s just him and her but it’s another level now that she’s playing with you. He doesn’t even play anything, just leans on the machine behind the two of you watching as his favorite sister duo's bonds grow stronger.

He definitely likes that when Max takes the game over again you sometimes will lean into his side and rest your head on his shoulder.

“And once again I’m the Burgertime high score!” You cheer as you put your standard three letters in for the scoreboard.

“I’m not even gonna try to beat you this time, I know I won’t.” It had quickly become your favorite game since it showed up in the arcade in Cali in eighty two and you’ve had the high score since you got the hang of it. “How about Dig Dug next?” Max asks while squinting her eyes and rubbing her forehead briefly, a sign Eddie knows best as the start of an eye strain headache. You notice it too but before you can say anything he beats you to it.

“Last game Red, then we’re out of here before you give yourself a migraine.”

“But-”

“No ifs, buts, or coconuts. I can already tell it’s starting to bother you.”

“Y/n, back me up here.”

“Nope, Eddie’s right.” You twist your arm with his and grab onto his hand. “You’re getting all squinty eyed again and don’t think I missed you squeezing them shut while you were watching me play last. You’re lucky I don’t drag you out of here now.”

“God, who are you two my parents?” Max groans hating how the two of you are teaming up against her even if she knows you’re right and if she plays much longer she’ll need to rest basically the rest of the day. “Fine, we'll play Dig Dug and leave.” She walks away, turning into the next aisle of games and leaving you and Eddie in front of Burgertime.

“Thanks for looking out for her so much.” You squeeze his hand and smile up at him keeping your voice low and the conversation private. “You really have no idea what it means to me, and probably to her, that you care so much.”

“You don’t have to thank me for that Sweetheart. Caring for her, for both of you really, is like second nature to me.” Loving the two of you is second nature to him too, but he wouldn’t own up to that just yet. “Now come on if we lag behind for too long she’ll insist the game didn’t count and start to play another round.” He pulls you along heading straight for Max but all you can focus on is how your heart is fluttering at his soft tone and his inclusion of you in the sentence.

After Max dies you make Eddie take a turn before you do. You had noticed that he wasn’t even trying to have a turn for any of the other games and wanted to make sure he felt included and had fun. And after seeing how joyful Max was rubbing it in Eddie’s face that she beat him you may have let her keep the high score, dying with a hundred points to go to match her. But you’ll never tell and that’s exactly what you told Eddie on the way out when he asked if you let her win.

Two days later Eddie finds you sitting on the steps of your trailer with your head on your knees after getting home from work. He can tell by the way your shoulders are shaking that you’re crying and without a second thought crosses the road to comfort you however he can.

“Sweetheart?” His voice makes you freeze for a second before you peek up at him.

“Oh, hi Eddie. I didn’t realize it was late enough for you to be coming home.” You try to hastily wipe your tears away and pray that your voice isn’t too croaky or shaky and that the tears stop.

“Are you okay?” He doesn’t approach you carefully or slowly like you’re a rabbit that’ll run off if he gets too close, you get all of him all at once. One second you’re looking up and answering him and the next his body is sitting next to you, the step groaning under the two of you at the sudden addition. You barely even have time to take in his work get up, hair in a bun, tank top, and overalls tied at his waist. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s been a rough day in the Mayfield home.” You sniffle as you speak.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” He wants to wrap his arm around you so badly but doesn’t want to risk getting any grease on your clean clothes.

There’s a pause between the two of you as you think about it. You don’t want to talk about it but you know that holding it in won’t do you any good.

“It’s been a bad day for Max. She’s been bumping into stuff a lot more today and she was trying to read a book but couldn't get her eyes to actually focus on the words. Even with her glasses on. When I asked her if she wanted to go skating for a bit she started yelling and crying about how she can’t believe I would ask her that when I know she can’t do it anymore. And then she ran to shut herself in her room and I came out here.” You start crying again and Eddie decides fuck it if grease stains your clothes he’ll buy replacements and brings you into a side hug where you hide your face in his shoulder.

“Sorry you have to see me in such a mess, big guy.” You apologize after a few minutes.

“Don’t even worry about it, we’ve all been there.”

“I’m not even upset about her freaking out on me. I get it, she’s going through it y’know? She’s bound to have bad days with what she’s going through. It’s just having to see her go through all of it that gets me. That’s my little sister, I practically raised her, I’m supposed to help protect her. And now I have to watch her go through all this pain and I can’t even do anything about it. I just love her so much.” You let out a heart wrenching sob into his shoulder and his hold on you tightens.

“I’ve never been in your shoes here but I get it. It’s valid to be this distraught about it, so don’t feel bad for showing it.” He speaks into your hair before dropping a kiss to your head.

“Thanks Eddie.” You say once you’ve calmed down. Before you can start violently wiping the wetness from your face Eddie’s hands are there tenderly doing it for you.

“You don’t have to thank me for being here for you.” The two of you just stare for a minute with you taking in every detail of his pretty brown eyes and your noses almost touching. “I have to go shower but after that do you want me to come over? We can play that card game you’ve mentioned.” He offers to come over instead of having you come to his place knowing you wouldn’t want to leave Max home alone, even if she’s going to stay locked in her room.

“That sounds great! Have you eaten? I’ll make sandwiches and get my deck of cards ready.”

“It’s a date, see you in a bit.” Eddie rushes over to his trailer as soon as he realizes the wording he let slip out. You barely even notice in your haste to get up and back inside.

“You can do three of a kind?!” Eddie exclaims as you lay out your winning Rummy hand.

“Yeah, I told you that when I explained the rules.” You giggle while you speak leaning forward to collect all the cards again. “Are we playing again?”

“Yeah, this next round is gonna be my round just you wait Sweetheart. I’ll win this time.”

“Okay.”

You try to give him a chance, even though after the cards were dealt you had two jacks and two sevens and the first card you picked up was a third jack. But after so long you end up with the three jacks in your hand, a seven, and a run of three clubs and then draw the fourth jack. You couldn’t just pass up that kind of winning hand.

“Oh Eddie baby. I’m sorry.”

“What?”

“Rummy.” You discard the seven and lay your hand down.

“No! Teach me a different game, this one’s impossible.”

“You’re just a sore loser.” You laugh and start shuffling the cards again.

“What did you just call me?” Eddie jabs your side causing you to jump before he digs his fingers into your sides causing you to shriek. “A sore loser?”

“Yes! Eddie, stop!” You get the words out between fits of laughter that are making your belly ache and tears to well up in your eyes.

“Take it back and I will.”

“Okay, okay!” He takes his hands off of your sides and lets them hover there so you can talk. “You’re not a sore loser.”

“Thank you.” Eddie goes to collect the cards to reshuffle them.

“You’re just a loser.” You get a scoff before he’s tackling you backwards on the couch, gaining a shocked gasp and a bit of laughter before you both freeze with the realization of how close you are to each other.

Your noses are barely a centimeter apart, you’re close enough that you can make out a ring of a pale dull yellow near the outside of his iris. You knew that you could get lost in the sea of brown but you didn’t realize it was possible to drown in them. Just as his eyes glance down at your lips and you think he might kiss you floorboards creak pulling both of your attentions to Max entering the room. She pauses when she’s close enough to recognize the blob she sees on the couch as you and Eddie.

“What did I just walk in on?” Eddie hesitates a moment, glancing back at your lips before sitting back up straight against the arm of the couch.

“Cards obviously.” He picks up the deck and starts shuffling while you sit up and fix your tank top that had risen up.

“Sure.”

“Did you need something Max?” Your concerned voice brings her attention to you. The love in your voice, and she’s sure it shows in your eyes even if she can’t see it, causes her to tear up. She was so sure that after she yelled at you for nothing you’d be upset with her. She’s sitting next to you and hugging you in no time at all. “Are you okay?”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell at you earlier.” That fact that she did has been eating at her since she shut herself in her room. “You were just trying to do something we love together and I-”

“It’s okay.” You cut her off resting your chin on top of her head. “Everyone has moments where they lash out without meaning to under stress. Remember when we were younger and I screamed at that kid who had a crush on me at the skate park to leave me alone? All because mom and dad were fighting a lot that week and my stress was through the roof between trying to keep you away from it and being the buffer between them. Poor kid avoided me for the next month.” She laughs at the memory before pulling away. “You wanna play five hundred with me and Eddie? We’ve been playing rummy because he thought that would be too long of a game but we can switch games if you want.”

“Can I just watch? I don’t trust my eyes to not mess with me.”

“Yeah, of course.” She moves to sit closer to Eddie while you get up and sit on the floor on the other side of the coffee table. “Deal the cards big guy.”

“You wanna make this round interesting?”

“How so?” He deals the cards out before answering so he can fight off the nerves for what he’s about to say.

“Loser has to go on a date with the winner.” You can’t stop the smile from forming on your face.

“Oh you are so on.” You and Eddie are both quick to pick up the facedown cards in front of you using them to hide the goofy smiles on both your faces.

“This is the weirdest way I’ve ever seen someone get asked out for sure.” You both ignore her as you continue playing. After a few back and forths at taking turns Eddie shoots up in excitement.

“Rummy!” He lays his hand on the table before making his way around the table to pull you to your feet. “I believe you owe me a date, loser.”

“Alright, I guess I do.” You try to act disappointed but you can’t get rid of the smile on your face. “Guess I better get to planning.”

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll do everything, you just have to answer the door when I come get you.” Eddie starts heading towards the door to leave, stopping right before leaving. “Tomorrow night, dress comfortably.”

By the end of the next month Eddie owes Max fifty dollars.

Eddie Taglist (Closed): @sadbitchfangirl @notbeforelong @munsonswhore86 @navs-bhat @emotionaldreamer @fangirling-4-ever @gaysludge @eddiethesexy @mazerunnerrose @midnightsgetawaycar @goldylions @mushroomelephant @saramelaniemoon @nojamsonmytoast @vintagehellfire @esoltis280 @spikedhe4rt @siriuslysmoking @toobsessedsstuff @alana4610 @gretavanfleas @sparkletash @aactuaaltraash @spookyemorockbabe

Everything Taglist: @matchamunson @bubsonnobx @practicalghost @katsukis1wife @crustyowos @yourfavdummy @protecteddiemunson4vr @kennedy-brooke @m00nkn1ghts @rory-cakes

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