#I’m be tearing bitches apart on the daily and I don’t have the spoons for that

[wandaromanova]

Life Support

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Warnings: cussing, toxic relationship (?)

A/N: hello! happy reading <3

anon requested: Hi! Can I please request Nat always being on missions 24/7 and not spending time w reader and reader understands at first but after being constantly alone she finally confronts Nat when she’s getting ready to leave again so reader says “if you walk out of that door we’re done” then “please don’t walk out of that door” then Nat walks out so then they’re broken up. Sorry if it’s too specific💕

Summary: All good things must come to an end.

Word Count: 2K | navigation

please do not repost or try and take ownership of my work. reblogs, likes, and comments are always welcome. <3

If there was one thing you were certain of, it was this; dating an Avenger wasn’t easy.

You were in a relationship with Natasha Romanoff, and have been for the better part of two years now. At first, everything had been absolutely incredible. The redhead would come to your apartment every night, her body entangled with yours beneath your bedsheets. You would wake up to Natasha sleeping soundly beside you, her arms wrapped around your waist as she held you close. Her warm breath would fan against the side of your neck as you took in her features. 

Natasha would slowly stir awake, her eyes moving side-to-side behind her closed eyelids before fluttering open. She would be met with your wide smile shining down at her, your fingers slowly combing through her tresses. The redhead would pull you down by the neck, placing a tender kiss against your lips. 

When she pulled back from the kiss, her eyes would travel down to your neck and admire the dark purple marks that were littered across your skin. It was exhilarating to her, knowing that you were hers. Natasha felt a sense of pride and couldn’t resist a smirk from taking over her face. 

You would cook breakfast in the kitchen while Natasha sat on the counter, ranting about the events of the day before. Your laughs filling the space as she mimicked Steve and Tony’s voices, mocking their ridiculous arguments. Eventually, the redhead would hop off of the counter and come up behind you, her front pressed against your back as she held you by the waist. 

Once the food was cooked, you would sit on Natasha’s lap at the table, your hands linked behind the back of her neck. She would eat and occasionally feed you, holding the spoon up to your mouth and purposely missing your mouth, effectively getting food on your face. Natasha would laugh as an annoyed look would cross your face, a pout gracing your lips. 

The Russian would wipe off the food with the pad of her thumb, sucking it off of her digit before kissing your pouty lips. She wouldn’t stop kissing you until your pout was replaced with a smile. You were in euphoria each time Natasha would visit, but all good things must come to an end.

A feeling of sadness would wash over you each time she would walk out the door, unsure of when she’d return. Seeing her leave never got any easier. All you wanted to do was beg her to stay in your arms, but you knew that wasn’t an option. 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

You weren’t the only person that needed Natasha and you understood that. 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Despite the feeling of despair that would creep into your chest, you never complained. You were aware of how selfish it would seem if you were to even so much as bring up the topic of Natasha staying for longer than a night. She was a vital part of the Avengers, a team that saved the world from threats on a daily. 

You had handled the arbitrariness of Natasha’s profession pretty well and settled for it. Having Natasha in your life occasionally was a lot better than not having her at all. However, there was only so much you could take. And one night, you had finally had enough. 

•❅──────────────── ‎⧗ ────────────────❅•

For the past six months, you had seen Natasha a total of ten times. It seemed as if she had been taking on more missions that varied in their durations. She was gone for weeks at a time and wouldn’t contact you the entire time, unaware of when she was due to return. You would only find out when she was back home when she was already knocking at your front door. 

To say you missed Natasha would be the understatement of the century; you missed her like fucking crazy.

You would spend the weeks she was away, sleeping in bed alone as you clutched her pillow close to your chest. You practically lived in the sweaters she left at your apartment, the faint smell of her perfume lingering on the articles of clothing. The day you realized her scent had faded, you almost burst out into tears. 

It made you feel disgusted with yourself. You were waiting around like a lost puppy, desperate for Natasha’s return. You couldn’t focus at work either. Your thoughts were focused on Natasha.

Will she come home soon? Is she okay? Is the mission she’s on super dangerous? Is she not replying to your texts because she’s busy or because she isn’t alive to do so? Or what if she had been home and just didn’t care to see you? What if she didn’t love you anymore?

These questions circulated your mind in each time of Natasha’s absence. You knew that you had to confront her, but didn’t know how to go about the situation. What? Are you supposed to go up to her and say ‘Stop saving the world to spend time with me’? Obviously fucking not.

The more you thought about it, the more ridiculous you felt. Natasha was out risking her life for humanity and here you were, moping over not being able to see her. Pathetic. 

Regardless of how absurd you thought your concerns were, they didn’t stop you from finally confronting your never-present girlfriend.

•❅──────────────── ‎⧗ ────────────────❅•

You had been sat on the couch when a knock sounded at the door. You immediately sprang up and rushed toward the door, hoping to see the woman that’s been plaguing your mind. To your surprise, you were met with red locks and green eyes shining with joy. 

You had to fight the urge to leap into her arms and shower her face with little kisses. Natasha’s happiness turned to confusion when you wordlessly moved to the side, giving her some room to enter. The sound of her heavy combat boots hitting the hardwood floor resounded throughout your apartment. 

You shut the door slowly, leaning your forehead against it with a sigh. You knew that you wouldn’t be able to confront the woman if you laid eyes on her. Natasha had you wrapped around her finger and you couldn’t help but feel like she capitalized on your weakness at times.

“Y/N? What’s wrong, moya lyubov (my love)?” Natasha’s raspy voice met your ears and you let out a shaky breath. “The fact that you don’t know what’s wrong IS what’s wrong.” Your voice came out small and you couldn’t see it, but Natasha’s eyebrows furrowed in concern. 

You heard her footsteps approaching you and you quickly turned around, coming face-to-face with your girlfriend, “What are you talking about?” Natasha’s hands moved up to cup your cheeks, but you swatted her hands away. 

“You’re never here, Natasha. That is what I’m talking about.” You walked past her and paced around the living room. The redhead was glued to her spot, her eyes following your every move. Your shoulders were tensed, your eyes were fixated on the floor as you walked around. Natasha had never seen you so serious before, and she wouldn’t admit it, but she was terrified.

“I’m here whenever I can be. Is that not enough for you?” Your movements came to an abrupt halt and you whipped around to stare at your girlfriend as if she had grown two heads. “No! It may be enough for you, but it isn’t for me! I’m alone for weeks on end without so much as a fucking text from you!” You raised your voice and Natasha felt irritation arise within her. 

“I can’t stop in the middle of a shootout or an interrogation to message you! I’m sorry that I’m away all the time and can’t give you details, but it’s my fucking job! You knew what you were getting into when you got involved with me.” Natasha moved until she stood directly in front of you, chest rising and falling quickly as she took shallow breaths. Her eyes were trained on yours with an intimidating glare, but you weren’t scared of her. 

“My job is a priority.” The redhead gritted out through clenched teeth. You felt your own anger expand at her words. “And I’m not?” You questioned Natasha challengingly and she shook her head with a dark chuckle. 

“No. You’re not.” You felt your heart shatter completely. Her tone was emotionless and she spoke as if she didn’t care at all; like you were a stranger.

“My job comes before anything, including you. I can’t let the world fall apart just because you’re a needy bitch that can’t spend a fucking minute without me.”

Natasha was relentless and you couldn’t handle it. Tears rapidly fell from your eyes as your chest constricted, making it hard to breathe.

People who said that words couldn’t physically hurt you; were full of shit. Each word that fell from her lips felt like a stab to the heart. And as everyone knew, Natasha Romanoff was very good with knives. 

“What? You’re not gonna say anything now? You sure as hell had a lot of shit to talk a minute ago.”

Natasha’s tone was cold and you hated yourself for still trying to find the warmth that you used to soak in, but you couldn’t find it. All you were met with was a blistering wind that sent shivers up your spine. 

You remained silent, focusing on containing the harsh sobs that threatened to wrack your body. Natasha rolled her eyes at you and turned around, heading straight for the door. An alarm sounded in your head as you watched her walk away. 

“If you walk out of that door, we’re done.” Your voice cracked slightly as you spoke. Natasha froze, her hand on the doorknob going still. She stayed there for a minute, contemplating her next move. Of course, you didn’t think the redhead would actually leave, but she was always full of surprises.

Your eyes widened as she twisted the knob, pulling the door open. “Wait! Please don’t go. Please don’t leave me. I’m sorry.” Honestly, you didn’t really know why you were apologizing. If anything, the roles should’ve been reversed in this moment, but you were willing to say or do anything if it meant Natasha would stay.

Natasha ignored your pleas and took one step out of the door before you hastily rushed after her. You gripped her wrist for dear life and her head whipped around, a look of annoyance on her face. 

“Let go of me.” Natasha tore her hand out of your hand easily, considering she was much stronger than you were. You remained in the doorway as you watched the redhead strut down the hall until she reached the staircase. As soon as you lost sight of her, you slammed the door and fell to your knees. 

You had no intention of destroying your relationship. All you wanted to do was voice your concerns to Natasha. You were expecting endless reassurances as she wrapped her strong arms around your body.

But instead, you were crying on the cold floor of your apartment, her harsh words echoing throughout your mind. Part of you was waiting for her to knock on the door and apologize profusely for leaving, but Natasha was lots of things, and stubborn was one of them. 

Once Natasha came to a decision, there wasn’t much that could change her mind. That’s what hurt the most. You were positive that the redhead loved you just as much as you did her. You felt as though nothing could sever the unbreakable connection that brought you two together. The possibility of Natasha willingly leaving you had never crossed your mind. Nothing could’ve ever prepared you for this outcome.

Natasha Romanoff was your everything. Her cocky smirk and infectious laughter were the oxygen that filled your lungs each time you took a breath. Her shiny green eyes and red locks were the chemical reactions of your brain that produced dopamine. 

Her love coursed through your bloodstream and kept your heart pumping. But now, she was gone. The minute she walked out, the light in your eyes disappeared and your skin slowly turned to dust. Without the woman you loved, you were nothing but a withering corpse going through the decomposition process.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Natasha was your life support and she decided it ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ was time to pull the plug. 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

───────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────────

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[telltheworld-phff]

Chapter 49: Atrévete a soñar

Harry hadn’t anticipated that his girlfriend pregnancy would be hard for him as well. He didn’t want to use this card as he knew that a million thoughts were crossing Carol’s mind, and she might or might not have had the time to go over them and come to terms herself of this big life changing moment of their lives due to her completely packed work schedule... and she was the one growing a tiny human from scratch. It was her body handling all the changes that came with it.

He had made a promise that he’d do everything he possibly could to make everything as comfortable as possible for her. She wouldn’t be in need of anything on his watch; he made sure to keep her refrigerator full of healthy food and lots of snacks that she could pack and take to the office with her – sometimes going to the store himself -, he had asked one of his drivers to be alert to any calls or texts from Carol, as he was now on duty to use Harry’s private car to take her to and from work. She was getting nauseous when using the tube and he promptly suggested this new arrangement – which surprisingly, she had accepted without a fight.

He also made sure he was present on her daily life. Calling every day that they were apart and stopping by her place every other day. Sometimes she’d ask him to stay and sometimes she didn’t. Harry didn’t mind all the work to keep the ball rolling on his duty and job and to take care of his girlfriend and baby, nothing was as hard as to deal with Carol nowadays.

She was picking fights on the silliest stuff and that was driving him completely bonkers. He didn’t seem to win no matter what he tried and that besides being frustrating as fuck, also was tiring and annoying. He had to remember that she wasn’t like this all the time nor she would be after the baby was out, but the Prince was seriously considering that this baby would be their one and only child.

For the time being, he had nothing to do but get used to Carol’s mood swings by each passing day. Every day was a surprise where he didn’t know which Carol he’d get. The sweet one, the teary-eyed one, the bitch one or the wicked witch of the west one. He couldn’t deny that sometimes it was difficult as fuck to keep up with her snappy and bitchy attitude for no reason whatsoever.

The cycle seemed to be: she’d bitch him and then start crying because she didn’t really mean it. Or whenever he did something good for her (God forbid he sent flowers to her office just because!), she’d say that he was way too overbearing and fussy.

“Women get pregnant every day and everywhere in the world without your suffocating habits and they end up just fine without your overwhelming concern and need to keep me under your watch all the time.” she had said once.

Just to start crying right after and say that lots of women also yearned for their partner’s support and most didn’t have it at all during the pregnancy. And that he was just by her side, by choice, taking care of them. Loving and cherishing them, regardless of this being an unplanned pregnancy and that she was a heartless and mean bitch while he had all the best intentions on his heart.

Needless to say the couple were arguing more now than ever and most of the time Harry would take the blame or excuse himself out of the room to take a deep breath and to remember that his Carol wasn’t like this.

It also felt very weird to argue with an overly emotional pregnant lady.

He tried to remember that this was just a very hormonal version of the woman he loved. Also a test to see if what he felt for her would come out stronger after this trying time. It’s easy to love someone when everything is fine, but true love is proved when the wind is blowing hard and you have not choice but hold onto each other to make sure you (and her) are safe.

He knew that she was stressed with her Masters degree, still keeping top grades whilst having a full time job and working a scary amount of hours every week (which he had already asked her to take it a little bit slow) and also travelling with her project.

He did want her to take a break and take it easy. If it was up to him, Carol would spend her days resting and sleeping to her heart’s content – as she always complained about how sleepy and tired she felt – but wouldn’t dare to even think about suggesting about quitting her job. She’d throw a massive fit and say that she would keep earning her own money as she didn’t need or want his thank you very much.

Some days, and those were rare, Harry was lucky enough to get glimpses of his girlfriend – and that’s what helped to take a relieved breath: knowing somewhere deep down that ugly surface was his sweet and loving girlfriend.

She usually would ask for very weird combinations of food – which he’d always go fetch for her; and have an insatiable sex drive — that he’d be more than happy oblige; and apologize non-stop for being a bitch on steroids to him.

He would forgive her – of course, as there wasn’t anything to really forgive her for - and they would get to chat and try to plan their future as her bump would only grow from now on and they needed to strengthen their relationship and become a real team to face, first and foremost, their parents and then the Institution Harry belonged to.

“What do you want to do?” Harry asked in one of the few blissful nights where they hadn’t argued over meaningless things. They were relaxing on his bed, after an afternoon full of amazing sex that left both of them exhausted. He was lying on his back and had his hands leisurely caressing her thighs.

“Obviously I want you around and to keep the baby.” she was eating ice cream straight from the box. “The big question is: what can we do?”

“Well… I don’t even know what our options really are. Everything I think I know is just wishful thinking. We would need to face a meeting with the Firm and its minions to know for sure. I know that my father and grandmother will demand a wedding.” he side-looked at her, half expecting to have a flying spoon over his head.

“I really don’t want to get married on these circumstances.” she replied and he waited for her to finish. “I do want to get married someday but not just because you knocked me up. It’s the 21st century after all.”

“Although I am part of and represent an Institution that is stuck ten centuries behind. But never mind.”

They both laughed at that.

“I will ask permission for you to move in with me. Don’t think gran will oppose much to that as Kate and Will did it. Before you start your feminist rant...” he laughingly cut her speech, knowing that she’d come up with something to refute. “I know that you love your flat and that it is comfortable enough for the two of you and that you can pay all the bills with money to spare but...” he pecked her lips, to distract her – lest she started to yell at him after a perfect day - and stole some of her vanilla ice cream, making sure to avoid the weird toppings she added in there. “It’s not safe. For any of us. And if we would try and make it safe, it’d cost way more than renting a moving truck and a storage unit for your things as obviously we don’t need new furniture here, except for baby things.”

He could actually hear her mind running wild with thoughts and ways to refuse his offer.

“At Kensington we already have the privacy, the security system, bullet-proof windows, armored cars and 24/7 people on call whenever he or she starts screaming in the middle of the night and we need a rest.”

She smacked his shoulder playfully.

“But…” he continued. “If Gran says we can’t stay here, then I would gladly buy us a house. And pay for the security system and features.”

“You’re insane.” she stated.

“Why you say that?” he was confused.

“Buying a house just for this...”

“”This” Carolina” - he pointed his finger between them to emphasize his point - “is my family and I very much intend to be close by even though you seem to not stand to look at me for more than a few seconds these days. You would help me choose somewhere suitable for us, that has everything we need, and then we would move in together and not marry right away as it seems to be your desire.”

“Why do I sense there are other options that you’re hiding from me?”

“Well… The options of what we will be advised to do are endless. If we start playing “what ifs” and imagining scenarios that might be presented to us, we’d be here all night. There are, though, some options that stand out from these possibilities… For example: I might have to renounce my title.”

She had a shocked expression on her face.

“Says that Pa and Gran demand a wedding and we say that we don’t want to marry under pressure. We might be denied the request of you moving in. So then I’d need to move out and with that – no wedding, kicked out – the press will have a field day, change the public’s view on me and as I’d just be the prince who tarnished the name of the family, again mind you…” he laughed and continued. “Thank heavens Will and Kate have already two children to claim the throne and out goes Harry.” he joked.

“I’m sorry.” she said, already drying the tears after what he said.

He talked about it as if it was a joke but being part of royalty were what made Harry who he was. Give up on it because of her wishes was a very hard thing to do. She considered in that moment if she shouldn’t let go of her stubbornness and just get married so he’d get to keep everything that was rightfully his.

“In that scenario our child wouldn’t have a place in the succession line. We would have more freedom. This part is what I like the most of this option.”

“What do you want to do?” she asked him sincerely.

“Honestly I’d like to marry you. Pressure or not, if you were up to it we would go to the town hall tomorrow.” he waited until the shocked expression on her face faded. “We could live somewhere else than Kensington – don’t care much for that part. I don’t want our children to have titles. it’s a fucking burden to bear, but he or she will be upgraded to prince or princess whenever father is King anyway.”

“Do you think our marriage would work? I personally don’t think I’d be able to face a divorce. I want all of ‘until death us do part’.” she finished the ice cream and left the empty box on Harry’s bedside table and turned to look at him.

“Of course it would…” she looked at him pointedly and asked him to think with his mind and not heart. “Ok… thank you for the reality check. I think that we are very good to and for each other. Relationship is something you build and take care of each day. As long as we’re both committed to our success, I do believe we could go forever. We’re both children from divorced parents and I think we agree that we wouldn’t want that for our children. But also we wouldn’t want an unhealthy environment for them to grow up at, just like we did. So if it came to a point where our relationship became toxic, we would need to separate our ways.”

“That’s a more sensible response Mr. Wales.” she pecked his lips again.

“I don’t think it’s healthy for us to keep guessing what might happen. It’s way too many options. It’ll drive us crazy... I would rather think and chose something that is actually given to us to think about.”

“Do you think you can have an appointment with The Queen after my 12th week milestone?” she was biting her lips as a nervous trait.

“I shall see to it.” he answered.

“Then we will be presented with options and decide what’s best for our family.”

“Ok...” he helped her to lie down. She was wearing one of his pajamas shirts and her ten-week bump showing. He caressed it and then placed a soft kiss on it.

“I do want to tell my mom first. Can we?”

“We can do whatever you want, darling.”

“So after we pass that milestone, I will call her and then we will sit with The Queen to discuss.”

“In the meantime I will do my best to keep you hidden.” he said.

“Which won’t work as we have Tommy’s Christening to attend.” she laughed.

“And are you OK with that?” he was still caressing her bump. “I know that you want to go, but don’t you think it’d be better if you stayed home? Or maybe just attended the reception afterwards? There’s a great chance of being spotted. Are you ready for it? Your life as you know it will be forever changed… and for that I am deeply sorry.”

“Well… I don’t want to miss it and sooner or later I will be spotted. We won’t arrive together or sit together during the service. But I do think the press will put 1+1 together and link me to all other photos… As I will be the only unknown person there. And I know what I’ve signed up for upon agreeing to be your girlfriend and carrying your child. No one will ever be ready for that. And I will need to rely on you a lot.” she sighed.

(…)

Carol had asked Hailey to design something for as she had no idea what to wear on a Christening. She had been flattered when Lara had sent an invitation that said “Honorary godmother” for her, she truly wasn’t expecting an invitation to such an intimate and formal event. 

She was at her sister’s studio – which was a spare room at her house – surrounded by lots of fabrics, sketches, pictures and at least three sewing machines. This was the last fitting of the pink dress Hailey had said would work for a morning event.

“You really should stop eating junk food Carolina.” Hailey said when noticed that the dress wasn’t closing as smoothly as it was three weeks before. “You’re getting chubby.”

Concentrating on not laughing or spilling the beans, she simply nodded.

“Thank goodness the Christening is in two days or I’d have to loosen up this dress, again.” Hailey said clearly irritated. “Never show up on time on fitting days and when you do show up, you’ve gained weight. Good Lord.” she mumbled to herself and when finished, she let Carol look at herself in the mirror.

She was in awe. Even barefoot, without her hair done and make up-free she was feeling pretty. Which was a first ever since she learned she was carrying her bundle of joy. The dress had 7/8 sleeves, the front had a draped finish and the skirt that ended just above her knees was made of feathers in the same colour.

“It’s amazing, Hailey. Thank you” Carol said turning around to see. “I think I want you designing my whole wardrobe.”

“Let’s not get carried away, shall we?” Hailey joked. “Now you just need shoes and accessories. Please don’t ruin my creation.” 

“I might stop by at Harrod’s later and see if I can find anything.”

“Maybe go with a big hat to cover your face?” her sister offered knowing that Carol would have her life turned upside down any moment now.

“That’s exactly what I am going for.”

(…)

Carol had asked for a day off on Friday before the christening and packed everything she was going to need for the weekend affair. All godparents (Harry, Skippy’s sister Victoria, Lara’s brother Henry, Eugenie and Jake Warren) were to check in at the luxurious Luton Hoo Hotel for a welcome luncheon and to rehearse (Carol didn’t understand why a Christening would need a rehearsal but didn’t comment on it). Then the other guests would arrive on Saturday at noon for the Service and then attend a brunch afterwards. The godparents were expected to stay at the hotel and enjoy it’s spa, checking out only on Sunday evening after a thank you dinner.

Carol had to pack way too many outfits and right now she was fitting well into only half of her clothes because of her bump. She was accompanying Harry for the three day stay as per Lara’s request. The brunette had bought a small golden bracelet with Tommy’s name engraved as a gift and hoped his parents would like it.

Harry asked Bill to carry Carol’s luggage to the waiting car while he kissed his girlfriend and – when he checked they were truly alone - her bump.

“You both ready to go?” he asked.

“Yes! I need to see that little red headed cherub!” she said happily.

They went to the car, both sitting on the back seats, buckling up and talking animatedly about the party and Harry explaining what was expected of her. This was Carol’s first formal encounter with people he had known his whole life. Most of them were daughters and sons of his parents’ friends and they all have been a tight knit group ever since they were born. 

Skippy and Lara had opted for a small gathering of closest family members and a few selected friends – Carol was so relieved about it, she didn’t think she’d be able to face a big gathering right now. Thankfully she knew some of the guests that would likely attend as she didn’t want to be left alone while Harry was on godfather duty.

“So Eugenie is coming?” she asked.

“Yes… She’s also a godmother, remember?” he replied.

“Oh thank God. I think I only know her and Jack and Jake and Zoe. Are you sure Arthur and Alessandra are not attending?”

“Yes. Alessandra had to do something in California and Arthur went with her.” he traced the worry lines on her forehead. “Don’t stress too much, Carol. I will be by your side most of the time.”

“I know… it’s just…” she started and he waited. “Nevermind.”

“What is it darling?” Harry said holding her hand.

“I can’t help but feel inadequate to attend such an event.”

“It’s the Christening of your friends’ kid. How on earth can you be inadequate?” he was confused.

“Said friends are aristocrats, barons and baronesses... Close enough to the monarchy… and I’m… I’m just… me.” she said, not looking at him.

“Carol, trust me. Your accomplishments are way greater than what any of us will ever have. You fought your way through life to get to where you are now. We all just had it all handed to us on silver spoons, quite literally. If not actually handed, doors were opened because of connections and surnames.” he kissed her temple. “Also, if anyone think any less of you, it’s their loss. You did point out a few days ago that we’re on the 21st century after all.”

“Hopefully I won’t embarrass you. I don’t know a single thing about etiquette.” she said, biting her lower lip.

“I’ve done my share of embarrassment enough. Nothing you do will ever beat my Vegas trip. Don’t worry. If anyone treats you badly, let me know. Or just go find a familiar face to chat, Ok?”

“Ok. Thank you.”

“You’ve got it. Just keep your charming self and you’ll be fine.” he added kissing her knuckles.

She admired the change in the scenery as they left busy central London to the countryside on their way to Luton. Carol was still feeling uneasy, but decided to have some water to try and calm her stomach. Being driven on the “wrong” side of the road still scared her and she was trying to believe in what Harry had said and not what her mind was shouting at her.

The hotel was a newly renewed manor and it’s perfect tended lawn and lakes were quite imposing. Harry offered his hand to help her out of the car and they went to the lobby to check-in. He usually asked Bill to do it, but wanted to give some sense of normalcy to his girlfriend, so decided to do it himself. He obviously understood that Carol knew who he was and knew that he had some privileges and hadn’t to bother with some tasks as everything he could possible need would’ve been taken care of in a matter of seconds.

He also didn’t want to scare her away – or let her think that he was incapable of doing things for himself. He wanted to tone it down a bit, and let her see that they could mix her humble upbringing with his luxurious and privileged one. He was set to make an effort and be more hands-on on tasks that the rest of the world did on a daily basis.

“The rest of the world don’t go to a 5 start hotel for the weekend.” he thought to himself, shaking his head, while signing the paper the receptionist gave to him.

She couldn’t help but notice the clear shift on the staff behaviour when they spotted Harry. They all bowed or curtsied to him, all of them curious – but obviously not asking – as to who she was. Harry intertwined their fingers while he spoke to the attendant at the lobby, to reassure her. Bill and the other bodyguards appearing just seconds later with their luggage and attentively looking around the seemingly empty lobby.

Apparently they had a paparazzi free travel and he was thankful for that. Harry had booked the mansion state suite for them, which was bigger than her whole apartment. Their California king bed was so inviting and she wanted to take a nap so badly but knew that she couldn’t. As she was travelling comfortable – another reason to have been looked upon by the staff -, she knew that she’d have to change for the luncheon.

Soon, some of the hotel staff was unpacking their luggage and organizing everything in the walk in closet in full speed. She didn’t even have the time to ask them to leave it – as fast as they came, they were gone.

Harry was on his phone and she didn’t want to listen to his conversation, opting to go to the bathroom for a quick shower to help her to stay awake. It might have been the car movement that had her so sleepy. The bath robe available was so soft and slightly warmed that it almost made the somewhat “wake up” cold shower ineffective. She styled her hair in a sleek ponytail and opted to wear one of the dresses that concealed her growing belly. She applied make up – making it simple – and went to the bedroom to fetch both Tommy’s gift and her heels.

“You look amazing darling.” Harry said when he spotted her yawning. “Tired, huh?”

“So much...” she whispered.

“I will try to find an excuse for you, and then you both can rest a bit.” He said, kissing her neck while resting his hands on her belly.

“Good luck with that.” she laughed.

He helped her with her shoes and changed clothes as fast as he could to go to one of the banquet halls where the invitation said the luncheon would be held. He had one hand on Carol’s lower back, protectively and also to guide her through the doors. He could hear the footsteps of his bodyguards behind them and made a mental note to ask Bill to increase the distance between them a little bit. This was going to be a stressful event for Carol and he didn’t want her feeling suffocated.

Their heard Tommy crying before they arrived at the hall. Exchanging a concerned look, they hushed to the Victorian styled room. Lara was holding her cherub, pacing the room, making soothing noises while Skippy was searching for something inside the diaper bag until he retrieved a pacifier. Carol went directly to Lara.

“Carol! I’m glad you came.” Lara said, side hugging her friend while rocking the little boy and looking for her husband. “I’m sorry. He’s fussy today.”

“Is he okay?” Harry asked concerned.

“Don’t mention it! Hi Tommy.” Carol said in a sing-song voice, caressing his red locks. “Auntie Carol is here.”

“He’s fine mate. Have just woken up.” Skippy replied when arriving with the pacifier, giving it to his son who stopped crying immediately. He greeted his best friend and Carol, asking them to make themselves comfortable while they waited for some people to arrive to start serving the food.

“Carol” Lara asked after a few pleasantries were exchanged. “Do you mind coming with me?”

“Sure.” Carol handed her clutch to Harry to hold, grabbed Tommy’s diaper bag and followed Lara to the nearest bathroom that smelled like lavender which immediately made her head hurt and her stomach to turn, even before pregnancy she hated the scent to lavender. 

Thankfully she hadn’t eaten much until now. The room was large – like everything in this hotel it seemed -, with marble sinks and stalls, gold details, everything screaming “tastefully luxurious”, it also had two deep burgundy upholstered chairs

“It’s my turn to change this little man’s nappy and I think he’s getting hungry.” Lara said happily undoing his onesie buttons, while Carol handed her the wipes and a clean nappy. “I’m glad you came. We won’t have much time to catch up this weekend, though. But we should go out sometime. Maybe lunch?”

“We’ve been busy, haven’t we?” Tommy smiled melting both women’s hearts. “I wish I was busy with this little man… Office work is so boring.”

Carol disposed of the used diaper and arranged everything back into the bag while Lara sat on one of upholstered chairs and got ready to feed her baby, Carol sat across from her friend. She watched at how lovingly she talked to and looked at her son and how happy the infant latched on.

She noticed in that moment that she wanted that so badly. Her love for her child was already one of the strongest feeling she ever felt. She knew that her baby was her reason to believe in a better tomorrow and to fight for it. She knew she’d move heavens and earth to make this child protected. Her mama bear instinct kicked right in at full force.

Her hand unconsciously went to her bump caressing it. She wanted to be a mum and in that moment she finally figured out that she was going to be a mother in a few months’ time. She wanted to feel the first kicks, she wanted to hold her baby close to her and get to know everything about her little bundle of joy: his or her preferences, mannerisms, personality, dreams...

“Why are you crying?” Lara asked after she looked up at her friend and saw the brunette with tears on her eyes.

“It’s nothing...” Carol said drying her tears.

“Carol… Is anything the matter?” Lara was preoccupied.

Carol got up to fetch a tissue and dry her tears. She took a deep breath and smiled at Lara.

“I’m pregnant.” Carol blurted.

“Beg your pardon?” Lara looked at her with a shocked expression on her face.

“I’m pregnant.” Carol repeated slowly this time.

“What is it with us and bathrooms when it comes announcing pregnancies?” Lara laughed. “How far along? You weren’t planning to tell me, were you?”

“I’m ten weeks along, we found out a couple of weeks ago. And no, no one was supposed to know before the twelve week mark… but seeing you with him, I just realized that I want this so badly and these damn hormones made my mouth talk faster than my brain could think.”

“Don’t worry, your secret is well kept. I’d hug you but master here is hungry.” they smiled and Carol sat down again. “How are you feeling?”

“I didn’t have many symptoms before I found out, but then, I became tired, breasts sore, sleepy and snappy.” they laughed and Lara commented it was very normal.

“And how’s Harry?”

“Over the moon. I think he wants to spread the word like wildfire… He’s wanted this for so long.” Carol smiled caressing her bump. “But he’s into an overprotective mode that is annoying.”

“Expected. He will be like this for the rest of your lives… Stop fighting it and get used to it, Carol. After everything that has happened to his family, it’s quite obvious that he won’t let anything of the sort happen again.” Lara said. “I’m glad for you. They will be close in age!”

“Thank you for not pointing out the out of wedlock implicit in this news.” Carol said when Tommy unlatched and smiled at his mum.

“Well… you’re welcome? What are you guys going to do about it?” she gave the baby to Carol, together with a burp cloth while she clasped her nursing bra and adjusted the dress again. Carol was gently burping the baby.

“We will know for sure in two weeks. I’m trying not to think about it just yet.” she sighed.

“Do try to enjoy the peace while it lasts. We are definitely scheduling a lunch date after you have “The talk” and I will be all ears for you.” she kissed her friend’s temple.

After the baby was properly burped, the ladies made their way back to the hall where Harry had a glass of scotch on one hand, talking to Jake, Skippy and Jack, probably about football. Carol and Lara took their turns to greet the new comers, with Zoe and Eugenie cooing over the baby on Carol’s arms. Harry’s eye twinkled admiring his girlfriend thinking that soon, it’d be their baby on her arms.

Carol stood beside Harry, playing with Tommy only half listening to what people were saying around her.

“I see that Tommy’s stolen my girl.” Harry joked, caressing Carol’s lower back.

“I think it’s the ginger hair.” Eugenie joked.

“Of course it’s the ginger hair – and the cute face. It’s nice to look at one for a change.” Carol joked.

“Ok, gotta keep you too separated. You girls teaming up will be the death of me.” Harry joked.

Reluctantly Carol gave Tommy to his father while Harry introduced her to the people he knew. Basically everyone in the room was a Lord/Lady or Baron and she felt a little intimidated but didn’t let it show. Carol first met Skippy’s parents and his stepmother, she knew his father was one of Prince Charles’ best friend – and he was studying her. Clearly his friend would know that his younger son had a new girlfriend by this evening. She was polite but let Harry do the small talk. Then it was Lara’s side of the family, she was introduced to her father and brother. Skippy’s sister  was the easiest to get along with… she shared the same sense of humor as her brother’s.

Carol was relieved when she found her assigned place at one of the round tables spread against the hall. It had a round floral vase in the centre, cutlery (lots of it) were made of silver and the glasses were crystal. Harry was sitting at her left and Jack at her right, followed by Eugenie, Jake and Zoe. Knowing everyone made things easier for her and Eugenie kindly asked her boyfriend to exchange places so she could sit by Carol’s side. Both of them engaged on a conversation during the first course. Eugenie was discreetly pointing to the right cutlery without anyone noticing and Carol gave her a polite smile as a thank you.

“Don’t need to be nervous, Carol.” Eugenie said at some point. “You’ll get used to it. And thankfully the only members of the Royal family here will be Harry and I. You’ll do just fine.”

(…)

Carol excused herself from the rehearsal. She wouldn’t play an important part during the ceremony anyway and she wanted a nap. Lara, now being even more empathetic with her friend, didn’t fuss about it and Carol went to their luxurious suite and straight to the bed, not even bothering in changing clothes or removing her make up.

She woke up later with feather-like kisses on her face and slowly opened her eyes to a very handsome Harry.

“Hi.” he said smiling to her.

“Hi” she answered back.

“I’ve missed you” he said nuzzling his nose on her neck, giving her the now familiar goosebumps.

“It’s been only a couple of hours.” she caressed his beard.

“It looks like an eternity for me.” he was laying on the bed beside her. “Did you get the rest that you need?”

“I did, yes.” she yawned and stretched. “Fully charged now.”

They shared a laugh and Carol positioned her head on his chest and one of her legs between his. He instantly held her, playing with her hair.

“I’ve asked Lara for you to enter through the back door tomorrow. I think I’m not ready to share you with the world just yet.”

“Thank you.” she whispered.

“My heart almost skipped a beat when I saw you with Tommy today.” he said and she could hear the smile on his voice. “My girl with a ginger baby on her arms… If you weren’t pregnant already you’d be getting tonight.”

They both laughed hard at that.

“Don’t be so cocky.”

“It’s just… you know that you’re giving me something I’ve wanted for a long time. Don’t you?” he said after a while. “A family of my own to protect, to take care of and provide for. A child to teach lots of things – someone to be a better version of myself. Thank you, Carol. I know this is hard for you. But I promise to be there every step of the way.”

She was crying after he finished his speech and he knew it. He didn’t mention or made fun of her because of that, but he only held her tighter and kissed her temple.

(…)

Carol woke up early on Saturday morning. It took her a while to untangle herself from Harry’s arms but she managed it. Putting on the robe to cover her now naked body, she went to the living room space of their suite and asked for breakfast to be delivered for them. She took a quick shower and started setting up her make up and hairdresser station on the bathroom vanity when Harry woke up and went to her, hugging her from behind.

“Morning.” he said trying to open her robe and receiving a playful slap afterwards.

“Morning!” she replied.

“Do you have time for a quickie before you start making yourself even more beautiful?” he asked seductively.

“Now now Mr. Wales… we did have four very “longies” last night. You can’t possibly be still horny.” she said looking at him through the mirror.

“Well… your bigger breasts make me hard. I can’t help it.” he said circling her nipples with his thumb.

“If we start, we are going to be late. So, your Royal Horniness, keep yourself together and we shall deal with it afterwards.” she fastened the robe belt again while he pouted and sat on the counter.

“Why do you need all of this?” he asked pointing to all of the make up she brought, changing the subject and concentrating hard on other things so he’d get rid of the boner he was sporting at the moment.

“It’s not even enough and I want to look nice today.”

“You look nice every day.” he said while watching her washing her face and applying some lotions.

“Thank you.” she said looking at him and pecking his lips.

She started to apply her make up and he didn’t even wanted to ask what all of those things would do, deciding to take a shower before breakfast. She finished faster than he thought, given the amount of things she applied and they enjoyed the perfectly cooked breakfast before changing clothes. 

Harry wanted a picture of Carol wearing that pink dress and noticed that if she placed her hand on her belly, they could see her small bump that seemed to grow by the second. He smiled when mentioned it to her and she said that she would likely have a very big bump.

“You will be a very sexy momma.” he commented while holding her clutch and the present that they had forgotten to give on the day before and went to their friend’s suite.

Skippy opened the door to their suite and informed Carol that Lara was in the bedroom nursing. He and Harry stayed on the living room while Carol went on the search of the baby.

“Morning sunshine.” Lara said when Carol opened the door.

“Good morning!”

Tommy looked around and smiled at Carol before turning and latching once again.

“As soon as he finishes, can you dress him for me, please?” Lara asked and Carol agreed.

“We forgot to give you his present yesterday” Carol gave the small package to her friend. “I hope you like it.”

Lara opened it and thanked her friend for the bracelet. It was very delicate and simple, one that she’d buy herself for her son if she had thought of that and clearly a very well thought present for him.

“I loved it, Carol. Thank you so much.”

After the baby was well fed and burped, Carol dressed him carefully and combed his hair to the side. She then fastened the bracelet on his arms and left Lara alone so she could finish getting ready for them to leave. Upon entering the living room again, with Tommy smiling and happy, Harry’s heart filled with emotion.

“You’re going to kill me.” he whispered to her.

“Why?”

“You with him on your arms, you being so lovely to him and carrying our baby… I can’t wait until it’s our turn.”

(…)

Harry and Carol rode together with Eugenie and Jack to the St. Albans Cathedral. The car stopped first at the back entrance where Carol jumped off and quickly entered the church, finding her assigned place. And then stopped at the front of the church and sure enough, lots of photographers were waiting for them there. Harry and Eugenie waved and entered the church, waiting for Skippy and Lara to arrive. Harry was shifting his weight and looking where Carol was sitting still alone.

“Calm down, Harry. She’s just fine.” Eugenie mentioned.

“I don’t think having her here is a good idea.” He replied.

“Why not?”

“I don’t think she’s ready for what’s to come from the media once they realize who she is.” he sighed.

“It’s not going to be easy, we know that. But you love her and she loves you… and I think she’s a very strong woman. With our support she’ll do just fine.” Eugenie side hugged her cousin.

“Thank you for “our support” part. It means a lot.”

“I really like her…”

“So do I…. Jack, would you mind?” Harry asked.

“Right on it...” he pecked Eugenie’s lips and went to sit beside Carol. It was pretty obvious how she had relaxed after seeing a friendly face and they both started chatting right away.

(…)

The Service was very right to the point but beautiful and moving.

Lara had asked someone to decorate the church with lots of flower arrangements in a mixture of white Casablanca lilies, tulips and Lily of the valley. Tommy was as happy as he could be, trying the eat the program on his mum’s hand and smiling, up until the water touched his head but his daddy soon made him stop crying and cheery again.

Carol was paying attention and making sure she held the best posture as possible, as she knew that some of these people had Prince Charles on speed dial and she wanted to make a good impression.

Even though when you meet him you’re going to announce you’re pregnant… Not the greatest first impression will come out of that.

She shook her head to clear off these thoughts and smiled at her friends when Skippy waved at her from the altar. She was really fighting the urge of placing her hands on her bump and making a mental note of asking Harry how christenings were done in his family. She knew what they shared with the press, but didn’t know how the ceremony was held.

Lara requested everyone present to take a group picture, together with the priest before they left the church. Although Harry had tried to have her beside him, Carol ended up beside Jack on the far right of where he was. After the pictures were taken, Bill appeared signalling it was time to go and Carol left through the back entrance going straight to the waiting car.

At moment, as they had rehearsed, Harry and Eugenie left the church through the front door together with the other attendants and stopped to take a few pictures with his godson as Lara wanted.

Everyone else started to get into their cars to head to the reception whilst Harry, Eugenie and Jack  conveniently stayed behind to stop and wave to the press – just to make sure that Carol’s car would be long gone without anyone following.

Jack was the one driving this car and he could see that the Prince was nervous and he could relate to that… He was the one arriving at the family and even then it was very difficult. As soon as they entered the Hotel’s grounds – out of sight of the paps that began following them - Harry got out of the car before it even fully stopped moving and bolted straight through the corridors until he found the reception room. Carol was there, sipping on some water and he immediately hugged her.

“Are you alright, darling?” he was carefully checking her to make sure she wasn’t going to hide anything.

“Yes, just fine… I think I’m still undercover.” she said. “Bill is a great security man, Harry. Don’t worry.”

“I don’t like the idea of you getting discovered while pregnant...” he confessed.

“I know. I don’t either.” she chastely pecked his lips. “Let’s just not think about it, ok? Everything went fine and the other guests are arriving and you have more pictures to pose for.”

Harry went on godfather mode, still making sure Carol was within his eyesight.

The photographer Lara hired was good, getting all the “must have’ shots as quickly as possible and Harry wanted to have one of him, Carol and Tommy. When he saw the picture on the camera’s display, he knew that it was going straight to the mantle of his fireplace.

________________________________________________

A/N: I hope all of you are keeping safe and sane on this quarantine mode.

Thank you for your continued support! I love to read all of the messages you send me and hopefully you’ll enjoy this quit long chapter.

Xoxo

#Prince Harry #Prince Henry of Wales #Duke of Sussex #Fanfic #Fanfiction #Royal Fanfiction #BRF #PHFF #Prince Harry Fanfiction #When you tell the world you're mine #chapter: 49 #royalfanficcollection #royalfanficcentral #British Royal Family

[bensbuttercup]

A Little Too Much (S.M.)

Summary: Sometimes the world can get to be a little too much for Emerson to handle and her fiancé Shawn helps to keep her grounded.

Word Count: 8,229

Warnings: Mentions of anxiety, spanking.

Authors note: This is an imagine that’s a little bit personal to me and I worked really hard on it so I hope that you all like it as much as I do.

And a big thank you to Claire @the-claire-bitch-project for helping me find the drive to finish this and beta reading for me. You should all go check out part three to her fic “King Of My Heart” that she just posted!

Emerson stood in the elevator watching the floor counter continue to rise, a pair of black suede heels, one broken and one still intact, was held in her left hand. In her right hand was her lunch box that had her spoiled salad inside, she hadn’t had time to each lunch between meetings and she felt her stomach growling, begging to be fed. After waking up to the fire alarm going off at 4:30 that morning while it was raining Emerson should have known it was going to be a long day. She had even considered calling in sick to her internship but had loved every day so far, up until this point. 

When the elevator doors opened Emerson stepped out into the penthouse level apartment she shared with her fiancé. However, her hopes of settling down with Shawn for a movie and take out were crushed when she heard an acoustic guitar accompanied by his voice floating into the foyer from his in-house studio. On ‘creative’ days Shawn usually didn’t want to be bothered for hours on end, it wasn’t uncommon for Emerson to both wake up alone and fall asleep alone on those days. Knowing she most likely wouldn’t be getting comfort from her fiancé all Emerson could manage to do without crying was drop her broken heels and lunch box on the floor near the door and go about her daily routine.

Ignoring the tears she felt pricking behind her eyes Emerson reached down to slip the black running sneakers she had gotten stuck wearing a majority of the day off. On her way to her second meeting of the day, set to start at 9:30 sharp, Emerson’s heel had gotten stuck in a crack in the floor, causing it to break away from the bottom of her shoe. By the time she registered what had actually happened she tired break her fall with her hands, a nail breaking in the process. Luckily, she had a pair of running shoes in the car she ran out to slip on before making it to the meeting at 9:29 with a frazzled, tired smile.

Since finishing her junior year of college nearly a month earlier Emerson had been interning at a Tax Attorney’s office in Toronto that offered her a full paying job after she graduated the next year. Her LSAT scores were near perfect and the company that she would be spending the summer interning with also offered to pay for her Law School tuition, that was if she could prove herself over the summer. So far she had been one of the hardest working and most intelligent interns the office had seen in years, but everyone had their off days. 

Not having the energy to greet Shawn with a loud and playful ‘honey I’m home!’ like she usually did, Emerson simply shrugged her leather Calvin Klein blazer off, hoping that he had turned the coffee on before she got home. She felt a migraine starting to simmer behind her eyes, the mix of stress and lack of protein in her system setting the genetic curse off. She knew that her hair, which was glazed two days earlier, was a frizzy, knotted mess on top of her head but couldn’t be bothered to walk all the way to the bathroom for a brush. Walking into the kitchen she ran her fingers through her hair with one hand while untucking her button down with the other. 

She watched as the white fabric with small black polka dots slipped out of the skirt she couldn’t wait to get off and settled in a wrinkled mess over the garment. She considered making her way upstairs to the bedroom she shared with Shawn to change but decided against it when she smelled fresh brewed coffee, the bitterness comforting her when she got the first whiff.

After seeing a half-full pot of coffee under the machine on the counter, Emerson felt her body relax slightly, a small weight being taken off her shoulders. She reached up into the cherry wood cabinets, the ones Shawn had specially made when they were apartment shopping, to pull down a light blue YETI cup and the sugar. After carefully taking the top off the sugar container, Emerson decided that she was too tired to walk across the kitchen to retrieve a spoon and opted to instead sprinkle a little bit of it into the cup. 

Watching the white crystals settle in the bottom of the cup Emerson felt herself begin to comfortably settle into the routine of making a cup of coffee, pouring in half and half and a splash of vanilla creamer into the cup also before putting them away in the fridge again. Watching the door to the refrigerator close reminded her that she should eat something so her migraine wouldn’t follow her into the next morning. 

Picking up the pot of coffee, Emerson went to pour it into her cup when the inevitable happened. The top cover on the coffee pot came off sending hot coffee rushing out of the glass pot all over the top of her right hand and then on to the counter. “FUCK!” In a moment of rational thought she slipped the pot back into its place before turning the sink on cold and sticking her hand under the rush of cooling water.

Resting her forehead on the counter Emerson finally felt the tears she had been holding in since 4:30 that morning bubble over, freely flowing down her face, but she didn’t care. 

Emerson didn’t know how long she let the water run over her hand before she felt someone behind her. “Oh Bunny,” she heard Shawn sigh from behind her, his hand on the small of her back and the nickname he had adopted for her bringing her a small sense of comfort. She considered letting herself settle into her fiancé‘s touch when she remembered that five minutes earlier he had been working on a new song. Great. Now she’d ruined his ‘creative flow’ and would probably be yelled at. “What happened?” 

Emerson sniffled and stood up straight, turning the water off before trying to shake her hand dry, “nothing.” She knew Shawn wouldn’t buy it, but usually a simple ‘nothing’ would get him off her back for the time being. It had been a trick she learned within their first couple months of dating, a simple ‘nothing’ could get her a couple of hours to herself when she needed them. 

“C’mon Em, you don’t cry over nothing,” Shawn decided to push the issue, not liking to see his fiancée obviously distressed. Shawn also knew that Emerson absolutely hated crying, she always had. He learned early on in their relationship that she had been taught that crying was a form of weakness, a plea for usually unwarranted attention. Whenever she cried when she was younger Emerson would have been scolded for it, so she taught herself how to turn the body function off, and it never fully turned itself back on.

Shawn decided that he needed to press the issue, something inside of him sensed that Emerson didn’t need time to herself. Shawn knew that she needed him, “what happened?” Emerson finally turned around to see Shawn’s soft whiskey eyes that were searching her face with concern.

Wiping the back of her unburned hand over her eyes Emerson sniffled once more before looking up at Shawn, “W-work sucked,” she hiccuped, “and I just burned myself, and I didn’t get sleep last night, and-” she was cut off by Shawn pulling her into his arms.

 Allowing herself to settle into the warm embrace of her fiancé’s large arms Emerson felt at home for the time being, wrapped up in Shawn’s love and affection. Allowing the cracks in her emotional dam to finally break, a broken sob fell past Emerson’s lips when Shawn gave her an extra tight squeeze. 

As she felt Shawn start rocking her back a forth he also started to humm a song she didn’t recognize into her messy hair. Feeling the vibrations from Shawn’s humming against her cheek that rested on his chest, Emerson didn’t hold any of her tears back. For the first time in months she let herself cry in Shawn’s arms, receiving the same treatment she often gave him when the weight of his career and the fear of letting his family and fans down sometimes got too much.

Emerson wasn't sure how long they stood in the middle of the kitchen, before Shawn carefully maneuvered them towards the center island, leaning back against marble countertop. With each movement Shawn made sure that his grip on his fianceé never loosened, that she stayed held close to his chest. As she listened to Shawn continue to hum the melody to what she assumed would be turned into a new song, Emerson started to follow his breathing, willing her body and mind to relax and find its way back to earth. 

Finally, she felt her hiccups and sniffles subside and she heard Shawn slowly start to let his humming die off, her breathing regulating itself again and her breathing coming back down to a normal rhythm. Once Emerson felt as if she had her feet on solid ground a dull pain began to radiate from her hand, she knew she would have to be sure the skin didn’t blister later on from the burn.

Shawn gently pulled Emerson away from his body so he could properly see her face, so he could at least try and read her current emotional state and decide how he could help from there. She knew that her face was covered in streaky mascara and tear tracks, her nose also starting to run, but she didn’t care. Shawn has proposed to Emerson and in six month would be promising to spend the rest of his life with her, through the good and the bad.

It had taken her almost three years to understand that Shawn didn’t judge her, through the good, the bad and the ugly, he never judged. He would stand by her side regardless of how messy her makeup was, how ratty her hair was or how mentally exhausted she was. Shawn was safe, Shawn was home.

“Now let me see your hand.” It was the first full sentence he had spoken to her since she left for work at 6:45 that morning. Holding her right hand out to Shawn, Emerson realized that it was just red. She realized that she had probably gotten it under the cold water fast enough that it wouldn’t blister, the skin would just be sensitive for a couple of days. With that realization a tiny smile graced her face. “Not too bad,” Shawn gently brushed his thumb over the sensitive skin causing Emerson to pull back slightly, “do you want to talk over a warm shower? Just you and me, maybe some music?”

 “But your mu-”

Shawn held a finger up to her lips momentarily and Emerson poked her tongue out to barely lick Shawn’s finger. He pulled his hand away while his nose scrunched up in the adorable way she always loved to watch. The skin wrinkling just slightly to create a look that mixed amusement and disgust. 

“My music can come later,” he leaned into her to kiss her forehead. “Right now your health and happiness is more important and I’m asking if you’d like that.”  Emerson let the idea marinate in her mind for a few seconds considering if letting Shawn brush off his music for her was really a good idea. She knew that Shawn had almost an entire album written already, his number of ‘creative days’ had exponentially increased in the past weeks and she had been seeing less and less of her incredibly driven and dedicated fiancé. “Don’t overthink it Bunny, a simple yes or no.”

Instead of a ‘yes’, she nodded in response to his offer. A large smile grew on Shawn’s face and he held out his hand for Emerson to take, feeling his warm palm clasp around hers allowed for more tension to make its way out of her body. 

Shawn held Emerson’s hand tightly in his while he made his way towards the stairs that would take them to the second level of the apartment where their master bedroom and bathroom was. When they had been apartment shopping nearly a year earlier Shawn insisted that their future home had plenty of space for both of them, as well as enough room to host family and friends when needed. 

Shawn opened the door to their shared bedroom and looked behind him with a soft smile “Do you want to go start the shower while I go get towels and clothes for both of us?”  He kissed Emerson’s forehead after he asked the question. “What do you want me to get you?” Emerson let out a quiet hum while she thought, sniffling the rest of her tears away. 

“One of your long sleeves, boyshorts and a sports bra,” she paused for a moment, “please?” Contrary to popular belief Emerson found a sports bra and a comfy long sleeve shirt to be the best lazy day outfit. She had learned at an early age that big boobs were both a blessing and a curse, she often found it uncomfortable to go without any support. 

over to the master bathroom Emerson only turned on one set off lights, dimly illuminating the room so it wouldn’t make her simmering migraine worse.

“Shawn doesn’t like it as hot as I do,” she mumbled to herself as she turned the knob on the shower to slightly cooler than she usually would. She watched both of the shower heads started spitting out water, the addition was something else Shawn had indulged in when they were purchasing the apartment.

She stuck her hand under the spray of water feeling it begin to get warmer, steam starting to flow over the top of the glass door. Emerson didn’t hear the bathroom door open again and was slightly startled when she felt a pair of arms circle around her waist.

“You’re still dressed?” Shawn mumbled, leaving a gentle kiss under her ear.

Emerson glanced down to her wrinkled button down and skirt with a shrug, “I kind of just forgot.” She was somehow too tired to remember to get undressed and if it wasn’t for Shawn probably would have stepped into the shower still dressed. 

As she went to reach behind herself she felt Shawn’s hands stop her. “I’ll get this, you just work on your shirt.” He started to hum the same song from earlier again. Emerson tried to focus more on the melody this time while she undid the top two buttons on her shirt before pulling it over her head. She felt Shawn’s fingers fumbling to undo the metal clasp on the top of her shirt and went to reach behind herself to get it when Shawn gently pushed her hand away again.

“I can get it,” he already had the zipper down but needed to get the metal clasp open so that Emerson could shimmy out of the uncomfortable material. Once the clasp had been popped Shawn carefully pulled at the bottom of the skirt until it could slide down her legs the rest of the way on its own. Watching as the fabric pooled at her ankles Emerson felt Shawn’s fingers hook into the waistband of her lace cheekies and pull them down her legs. As she stepped out of her underwear she reached behind her to unclasp her bra and let it slide down her arms to fall on top of her crumpled shirt.

She turned around to see Shawn pushing his boxers and baseball shorts down his legs, kicking them into the same pile as Emerson’s suit. “Is it warm enough?” He asked, reaching his hand into the shower to feel the water temperature.

“It’s what I usually put it on when we shower together,” Emerson mumbled as she carefully stepped under the warm spray of the double shower heads. She watched as Shawn tested the water with his own hand before deciding it wasn’t too hot for him to enter. 

Shawn ran a hand through his wet hair while Emerson did the same, allowing themselves to wash some tension out of their bodies with the warm water. Shawn from writing music for nearly the past month straight with no breaks, and Emerson from her awful day at work mixed with the past month’s pent of emotions. “Shawn?”

Even though Emerson didn’t revive a verbal response from Shawn she knew that he listened as she asked her question. “Can you wash my hair?” She always loved when Shawn washed his hair, his nimble fingers were often able to massage her migraines away. 

“Just give me your shampoo, Bunny,” Shawn held his hand out for the bottle. Emerson hesitated, her hand hovering between her bottle of shampoo and Shawn’s. She wrapped her fingers around his bottle before placing it in his waiting hand. “This isn’t-”

“I know,” she turned around and squinted through the water, “it’s yours.” Shawn didn’t think much more of it as he squeezed a dollop into his right hand before placing the bottle down, rubbing his hands together to create sudds. It was quiet for a few minutes as Shawn worked the shampoo into her scalp, his front pressed against her back as he did so. 

Shawn knew that when Emerson got overwhelmed she often liked to be close to him, it helped to keep her grounded and in touch with her surroundings. 

“Y’know,” Emerson’s eyes were closer as Shawn worked the shampoo into the bottom portion of her hair. “When you’re on tour and I miss you a little extra,” her nose wrinkled slightly when Shawn’s fingers got stuck on a knot in her hair, “I’ll go to the store and buy a bottle of your shampoo or body wash, then use it for a couple days.” 

Shawn felt his heart clench at the confession and dropped his forehead to rest on Emerson’s shoulder. “Kinda how I make my stylist buy a bottle of your perfume?” He only received a small nod from Emerson but knew that it held meaning. “Tip back so I can rinse your hair.”

Doing as Shawn asked she tipped her head back, his fingers running from her scalp down to the ends of her hair. He carefully worked the shampoo out of her hair until the water running out of the ends was clear of suds. “Your turn,” Emerson spoke quietly, reaching out to pick up the bottle of shampoo again. Shawn was only slightly taller than she was, so once the shampoo in her hands had been turned to suds all she had to do was reach up and start working it into her fiancée’s roots.

“Do you want to talk about today?” Shawn asked the question while Emerson’s fingers were massaging the shampoo into his scalp.

Her fingers paused for a moment before continuing their previous motions, “I knew as soon as that fire alarm went off that I should have just called into the office sick.” It was a confession she had been waiting to make since she walked through the apartment door nearly an hour earlier.

“You went to the office right?” Shawn asked and revived a small hum in affirmation. “And you made it through the day?”

“Barely so-”

Shawn held a hand up, “but you made it through the day.” He squeezed body wash into Emerson’s hands and she started to lather herself up. “Now you’re home,” he closed the bottle and set it back in its place, “and we can focus on making you feel better.” It again fell silent while Emerson watched the suds from the body wash slip off her body and down the drain, mixing with the suds from Shawn’s body also. 

After a couple minutes the water running down the drain was mostly clear and a tattooed hand reached past Emerson to turn the shower off. He ran his fingers through his soaked hair, trying to get some of the water out while he pushed open the glass door to the shower. 

“Bunny,” Emerson’s head looked up from the ground and over to where Shawn was holding open a fluffy bath sheet for her. Carefully stepping over the small lip on the shower floor and on to the heated tiles, those had come with the apartment, they weren’t a ‘Shawn Investment’ like many other features.

“I think you were so brave today,” Shawn kissed Emerson’s forehead while he wrapped the bath sheet around her, tucking it in on itself so it would stay wrapped around her body. He took a smaller towel and lifted her wet hair up, wrapping the towel around her shoulders before carefully setting her hair back down into place. “Want me to dry your hair, Bunny?” 

Emerson nodded but Shawn responded with a quiet ‘tsk’, signaling that he wasn’t happy with her response. “Words please?” It came across as more of a question than a demand. 

Emerson walked over to the vanity and sat in the chair that was in front of it, “yes please,” she sighed as she let her eyes slip closed. It had been a long day and she had been pushed to both her physical and mental limits, wanting time to unwind. The next morning it would be Saturday and she would be able to sleep as late as she wanted, wrapped up in Shawn’s arms. 

She listened as Shawn padded around the bathroom, gathering what he needed to dry Emerson’s hair. “You still use that weird pink spray?” It sounded like the question came from the other side of the bathroom where the hair care products were kept.

“The heat protector, yes,” Emerson wasn’t sure how loud she was answering the question, but she hoped that Shawn heard her. Suddenly she jumped when she heard a cap being popped off of a bottle right behind her. When did Shawn get back across the bathroom? “I usually do ten sprays.”

Her eyes remained closed while Shawn sprayed the heat protector and quick dry into her golden brown hair, “do you want me to dry it all the way?” Emerson went to shake her head ‘no’ when she remembered that Shawn wanted words.

Still with a shake of ‘no’ Emerson found the energy to speak the words, “no thank you,” followed by a pause. “Only half-way,” she heard Shawn plug the hair dryer into the outlet on the vanity. 

She opened her eyes when she felt a brush running through her hair, being met with Shawn’s warm smile, “just getting any leftover knots out.” Letting her eyes slip closed again Emerson nodded. A few seconds later she heard the blow dryer whir to life and felt the warm air on the skin of her neck, causing her to shiver. 

Shawn started combing his fingers through Emerson’s hair, his fingers easily slipping through the damp strands thanks to the conditioner. As her hair started to dry a few fly-away strands blew in front of her face, tickling her nose. She reached her hands up to brush away the strands and Shawn turned the blow dryer off and set it down on the vanity, his large hands brushing her hair away from her face. “Do you want me to braid it?”

Emerson shook her head no before remembering that Shawn wanted a verbal answer, “no thank you,” she mumbled. Shawn picked up the brush once more and ran it through her mostly dry hair, the soft strands falling back into place. “Maybe later though.”

Emerson wanted to ask Shawn something else, for something else, but wasn’t sure if he would be turned off by the request. It had been something they’d done in the past, quite often actually, but a voice inside her head held her back from asking for it. 

Realizing that overthinking had caused her emotions to build up once again Emerson found herself harshly rubbing her fists into her eyes to stop herself from crying. “Bunny,” Shawn gently grabbed her wrists, pulling them away from her face. “Is there something I’m missing?” He asked the question in a soft voice, easing Emerson into to opening up to him.

“M’just overwhelmed,” she sniffled, Shawn noticed that tears were welling up in the corners of her eyes yet again and reached out to brush them away. “And I-” she never finished her though, choosing to lean into Shawn’s touch instead.

He brushed his thumb over Emerson’s cheekbone and let out a long sigh, “You know you can ask me for anything, Bunny. Especially when it will help you feel better.” Shawn finished his sentence with a kiss on the tip of her nose. Emerson took a deep breath and closed her eyes, she had asked Shawn this at least a dozen times before. Why was it so hard now?

Emerson and Shawn’s relationship had always been a physical one, snuggling, sex, even just small, subtle touches when they were out in public to help keep the other grounded. This physical intimacy seemed to help make up for Emerson’s lack of words, her struggle with sharing her feelings. About nine months into their relationship Shawn had been scrolling through social media when he looked up he raised an eyebrow causing Emerson to grow concerned. 

“What?” She asked slightly concerned for what Shawn had planned. Setting his phone down Shawn took in a deep breath before he spoke, “you ever heard of umm-” his words died off.

Emerson scooted closer to her boyfriend and rested a hand on his thigh that tensed under her touch, “have I ever heard of what? What’s happening? Are you okay?” Her immediate reaction was that her boyfriend- or someone close to him- had fallen ill. 

“Therapy spanking.” Emerson watched as his cheeks heated up after he spoke. “Have you ever heard of therapy spanking?” He let out a shaky breath, nervously running a hand through his hair. 

“I-” Emerson couldn’t find the words she wanted to say, “no?” It came across as a question. Shawn took another long breath and pulled Emerson so she was sitting in his lap, her knees resting on either side of his thighs.

“I’ve been researching it actually,” he laughed nervously. “I know you’ve been having a hard time with expressing things, and that’s perfectly okay!” He didn’t want Emerson to feel hurt by his declaration, but she rarely opened up to him about what was going on in her life or how she was feeling. “But you hate crying, and you need to get you-”

“Shawn I’m fine,” she cut him off. 

“As I was saying,” he wasn’t going to give Emerson any room to argue with him. They were going to have a conversation like adults, not two teenagers. “You have a hard time with emotions and need to get them out somehow and I’ve done a ton of research on therapy spanking.”

Emerson looked up at her boyfriend through her glasses, confusion filling her gaze. “I’m not a little kid Shawn, you’re not a parent punishing me. Besides,” she sighed, “I was never umm, spanked as a child either.” 

Shawn carefully thought his response over before speaking, “It’s not a punishment,” he felt like spitting the words out, “it’s emotional release, to help you feel better and clear your head.” 

Emerson pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, “fine,” she huffed. “I’ll try once, and if I don’t like it we’re never bringing it up again.” She crossed her arms which caused Shawn to laugh. 

“Okay, once,” Shawn nodded, resting his large hands on either of Emerson’s thighs. “And if you don’t like it we’re never doing it again.” He sealed his promise with a gentle peck on her lips. 

Finding herself back in the bathroom she now shared with Shawn, in their apartment, Emerson blinked at herself in the mirror. She needed to feel grounded, she needed to get rid of the self doubt and angst the bad day had caused. “Shawn?” She turned around and looked up at Shawn from where she sat on the plush vanity chair. 

“Yes?” He asked quietly.

Emerson took in a long breath before looking up into Shawn’s warm whiskey eyes again. “Can you please- can you please,” she struggled to find the words she wanted, “can you please spank me?” She closed her eyes again after asking the question. 

“Emerson,” Shawn used her full first name, “I need you to look at me, please?” He continued to brush his thumb over her cheek bone. When her eyes opened they were still swimming with unshed tears, tears that Shawn knew would be falling in a few minutes. “Is this what you want?” 

“Yes. This is what I want,” Emerson nodded and Shawn pulled his hand away from her cheek, falling to his side. A few seconds later he held the same hand out for her to take. Slowly she did as was requested and took Shawn’s hand, his larger palm encasing hers with warmth. “Can we go to the bedroom please?” She asked standing up.

Shawn lifted her hand up and kissed the back of it, “that was the plan.” He started to gently guide her towards their bedroom and sat on the edge of the mattress so that his feet were flat on the floor. Emerson sat down next to him, her knee nervously bouncing up and down like it usually would in these situations. 

“Do you want to talk about your day before or after?” The question Shawn asked usually started off every session. Sometimes Emerson would like to talk about her day beforehand, but she usually asked to talk about it after, wanting to release some of the emotion beforehand. 

“After,” she paused, “please?” She watched as Shawn prepared himself for the activity they were about to engage in. He stood up and reached down into the small mini fridge next to the bed, pushing past the bottles of water to find the aloe vera cooling lotion he liked to keep refrigerated. He would usually take the lotion out to cool before their sessions started so it wasn’t too cold when he applied the lotion to Emerson’s heated skin after the fact.

Sitting back on the mattress Shawn looked at Emerson and drew in a long breath, “How would you like me to spank you, or how would you be most comfortable?” Shawn liked to keep her as comfortable as possible throughout the entire process, it tended to be his priority.

Emerson fiddled with the hem of her shirt and carefully thought over her options, “over your lap?” She asked quietly, not yet looking up. She watched her leg bounce up and down for a few seconds before Shawn opened his arms up for her. Without words she turned and crawled into her fiancé’s lap, her knees settling on either side of his thighs, her head falling to his shoulder. 

Shawn wrapped his arms tightly around Emerson’s waist, his large hand slipping under his long sleeve shirt that she had slipped into. She tried to calm her heartbeat by listening to Shawn’s the steady thumping could be felt from where her hand rested on his chest, she often joked and called his heartbeat the ‘bass drum to her life’, but it was true. Shawn helped keep her grounded. Shawn was home.

No words were exchanged between the pair until Emerson moved her hand from Shawn’s chest and lifted her head up, looking into his eyes. “You ready now?” He brushed a strand of dry hair from in front of her eyes, he would french braid it after. 

“Yes,” Emerson nodded, moving from Shawn’s lap so she was again sitting next to him. Shawn took in a long breath, grounding himself before he started telling Emerson what to do. The process was both emotionally taxing and relieving for Shawn and Emerson. While their therapy spanking sessions often helped to rid them of pent up emotion that words couldn’t always express, they were both usually exhausted after the fact.

Shawn rubbed his sweaty palms over the basketball shorts he had on while he tried to make sure his voice would be firm when he spoke. “Can you stand up, Bunny?” He asked Emerson with a slight smile, he wanted to make sure that he didn’t rub her the wrong way. Their sessions were delicate processes and one misstep could send someone into an overdrive of negative emotions.

Nodding Emerson rose to her feet, still looking down at the ground, her hands tugging on the hem of her shirt. Shawn reached out and took her hands in his, pulling her close enough to kiss the back of each. “Remember that I love you?” He was trying to assure Emerson that she was safe in his hands and had nothing to worry about. She could let herself go completely if she needed to. 

“I love you too, Shawn.” She responded looking up to meet his eyes again. Shawn took that as the piece of consent he needed to move forward more, but he would still be checking in multiple times before they actually started their session.

Gently, Shawn started to move up the hem of his shirt that Emerson wore. He bunched it between his hands right above the waistband of the white boyshorts she currently had on. He leaned in and pressed a gentle line of kisses along the skin that was now exposed to him.

Shivering under Shawn’s touch Emerson moved her hands to rest on his shoulders while he     moved his left hand to the waistband of her panties. “On or off?” To Shawn this question couldn’t be overlooked, ever. He knew that in a couple of minutes Emerson would be put in an incredibly vulnerable position, and the level of trust she chose to put into his hands, ultimately, rested in hers. 

Emerson rocked on the balls of her feet while Shawn’s thumb rubbed gentle circles into the skin that covered her hip bone, thinking. After a few moments she moved a hand from Shawn’s shoulder to cover his, “off?”

“It’s not up to me, Bunny. That sounded awfully like a question not an answer.” He wanted Emerson to be sure of her decision and would wait all night for a confident answer if he had to. 

“Off.” She looked up into his eyes this time, “please?” Shawn leaned in to place one more kiss right under her belly button before he dropped the hem of her shirt, both of his hands hooking into her waist band. 

Taking in a deep breath he slowly started to pull the fabric down her legs, letting it pool at her feet once they were able to slide down the rest of the way on their own. “Ready?” Shawn moved a hand to rest on Emerson’s back right above the curve of her ass. 

Emerson nodded before mumbling a small ‘yes’. Shawn shifted so that he sat a little bit further up on the bed, making sure that both he and Emerson would have enough room to be comfortable throughout the process. 

After getting the verbal confirmation he needed from Emerson, Shawn gentully guided her over his thighs with his hand that rested on her back and the other, resting between her shoulders. He let Emerson adjust herself so that she was comfortable, his hand rubbing gentle circles into the small of her back while she shifted. With his other hand Shawn reached behind him to grab a pillow for her to rest her head, settling it next to his left thigh. 

Once Emerson had stilled, her hands folded and her chin resting on them, she looked up at Shawn with teary blue eyes. “I’m okay, Rockstar,” she assured him with a gentle smile, her eyes slipping closed after. “Remember that I love you,” she added.

Shawn’s eyes trailed down Emerson’s body to where his shirt covered the top of her ass, “I love you too,” he let out a shaky breath. Moving both of his hands down to the hem of the shirt he carefully folded the pink material up to her mid back, giving him plenty of room to work. “Just relax for me.”

Shawn carefully lifted his right leg and moved it over Emerson’s calves, she always tended to squirm and it helped to keep her still. Next he took his left hand and secured it around her waist, his hand curling around her side and his thumb starting to rub soothing circles into her skin. He was just as nervous as Emerson, but he loved her and would do anything she needed him to. 

Shawn carefully slid his right hand down Emerson’s back it coming to a rest on her left asscheek, his fingers gently kneading into the skin there. He watched his fingers sink slightly into her flesh, his eyes moving to the stretchmarks that also spanned over her skin. He remembered when she had been incredibly insure about them, one night he walked into the bathroom while she was applying cocoa butter to the stretchmarks, trying to make them lighter. From that day forward 

Shawn and Emerson had spent time trying to make each other love their bodies, teaching each other that their imperfections made them both more attractive, more human. 

Shawn continued to knead Emerson’s skin for a few minutes, getting the blood flowing before he started spanking her usually made it less painful and made the redness and any bruising disappear faster. “Bunny?” He quietly asked. Emerson turned her head and cracked an eye open. “You ready?” 

She reached a hand up to fake salute Shawn, “yer, sir!” She offered a smile. Shawn laughed, glad that Emerson chose that moment to try and lighten the mood slightly. With the confirmation, Shawn removed his hand from Emerson’s skin, slightly red from the minutes of kneading he had just done. Shawn took a deep breath before letting his hand fall, a small smack filling the room as his hand made contact with Emerson’s right ass cheek. He watched as her fingers tightened their grip on the pillowcase, her eyes squeezing shut tighter. 

“You okay, Bunny?” He asked quietly, he knew he wasn’t hurting Emerson, providing comfort that she needed in the moment. Emerson nodded and cracked an eye open, giving Shawn a slightly more relaxed smile. 

Squeezing her hand into the pillow under her head Emerson braced herself for the next spank when she felt Shawn’s large hand stop kneading her skin again. 

Feeling Shawn’s large hand cover almost her entire ass straight across the middle with the next spank Emerson felt a few tears slip out of the corners of her eyes. Feeling Shawn’s hand lift off her skin once more the next five spanks came one after the other, she knew Shawn was settling into his normal rhythm.

A common question they had gotten asked once they brought the concept up among their ‘couple friends’, was if they also used spanking in the ‘kinkier’ aspects of the bedroom. The first time Brian had asked Shawn the question they had both had a little too much alcohol and Shawn’s face turned bright red with laughter. 

“C’mon man,” he said after regaining his composure, the conversation dying off after the comment. Of course they also used spanking in more sexual aspects of their relationship but sometimes the benefits of the emotional release it could provide were overlooked. 

Feeling her skin start to heat up more, Emerson pulled her bottom lip between her teeth trying to keep the few whimpers she let out quiet. Noticing her behavior, Shawn paused his movements and gently pulled her bottom lip from between her teeth with his thumb and pointer finger, “we both know that holding back won’t do you any good, eh?” He watched Emerson’s eyes that were now swimming with tears openly. 

“Right,” she quietly responded before letting her eyes close again. Shawn carefully kneaded her skin again while he waited for her body to relax again, the muscles in her thighs too tense for Shawn’s liking. He slipped his hand down from her ass to the back of her left thigh and squeezed it gently, signaling that she should relax her body before he continued. 

They often didn’t use many words during their sessions. After doing it for a couple years they were both able to read each other’s bodies well enough that words weren’t constantly needed, the verbal communication decreasing over time. Now their signals to each other were mostly physical, Shawn’s gentle massages between sets of spanks often helped Emerson to relax and allowed her to release her emotions in incriminates rather than all at once.

“I’m gonna start again.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement from Shawn after Emerson’s muscles had relaxed under his gentle touches.

Again fisting the pillow case in her hands, Emerson braced herself for the next set of spanks, waiting to hear the noise of skin hitting skin fill the room again. A surprised gasp fell past Emerson’s lips when Shawn’s hand fell on the top of her right thigh, just under the curve of her ass. It was a particularly sensitive spot for her and wound usually give the most reaction when Shawn spanked the area. After another sharp smack to the top of her left thigh Emerson couldn’t hold her tears back any longer.

A steady stream began to flow out the corners of her eyes, the tears running down her cheeks and on to the pillow under her head. However, Shawn’s ministrations didn’t stop but picked up with force, his speed staying steady but the spanks becoming harder. 

Emerson lost count of how many times his hand had come down on her ass and the tops of her thighs somewhere around thirty, her tears still steadily flowing and small whimpers and hiccups flowing past her lips.

Her head started to feel slightly fuzzy but she heard Shawn’s praise as he continued to let his hand fall onto her skin with sharp smacks, “such a good girl for me,” she remembered hearing. 

“You’re doing amazing, Bunny. Let it all out, don’t be afraid to cry, not with me.” The steady stream of praises that he was spewing weren’t uncommon but to Emerson they sounded more frequent, filled with more emotion.

Somewhere between Shawn telling her it was okay to cry and a stream of sharp smacks falling down straight across her ass cheeks she felt Shawn’s other arm unwrap itself from around her waist. His hand moved to cup her cheek, brushing along her cheekbones while the speed of his spanks started to slow. 

Emerson felt like she wasn’t completely present in the moment, the spanking no longer stung but instead felt like a comforting weight whenever Shawn’s hand came down. The words he spoke didn’t completely make it past her ears that felt as if they were filled with cotton and her head felt slightly fuzzy. 

“You did amazing,” Shawn mumbled after he let the last smack fall right across her ass, covering almost the entire thing. “So amazing,” he spoke a little louder watching the tears still freely flow from Emerson’s closed eyes. He let his eyes trail down to her butt that was now an angry shade of red, a few small bruises starting to bloom on the skin. 

Being careful not to move her around too much, Shawn moved Emerson so her head was in his lap, his thumb still rubbing soothing circles into her cheekbone, his other hand carefully massaging her bright red skin. “Bunny,” Shawn mumbled, wanting Emerson to open her eyes for him. “Can you open your eyes?” He hoped that asking her would get the reaction he wanted, “I miss seeing them, so pretty and blue,” he spoke in a quiet sing song voice. 

Watching as her eyelids fluttered open, a wide smile spread across Shawn’s face. “How are you?” He hummed as Emerson lethargically blinked, her eyelids looking as if they weighed a thousand pounds each. Emerson mumbled something that Shawn wasn’t quite able to make out but he nodded anyway, his hand moving from her cheek to her hair. His fingers combed through the freshly washed strands as he looked behind him for the aloe vera lotion.

“That was fifty-four,” Shawn laughed lightly, “you gotta tell me how you’re feeling though.” Shawn always liked to be sure that Emerson was okay after each of their sessions, wanting her to be as comfortable as possible. 

She opened both of her eyes again and looked up at Shawn, “m’good! She gave him a thumbs up with a small smile. Shawn sighed and shook his head, glad to have a piece of his usually playful fiancée back for the time being, even though she still had tears flowing out of her eyes. “Hurts though,” she wiggled her hips a little bit.

“Well duh,” Shawn reached behind him to grab the bottle of lotion, “it’s bruising already.” He watched Emerson try and look behind herself to see her ass but she quickly gave up after realizing she would have to sit-up stretch more to see it, trusting Shawn’s words instead. “Can I put lotion on?”

“Yes please,” Emerson’s tears were starting to slow, her head starting to feel a little clearer. She was able to clearly hear everything Shawn was saying and her skin started to sting more rather than just feel warm. She listened to Shawn unscrew the top of the lotion bottle before he squeezed a line across the top of her ass, the cool substance making her face scrunch up in a bit of discomfort. 

Shawn’s large hands both started to rub the green tinted lotion into her skin, being careful not to apply too much pressure where he noticed that bruises were starting to bloom. “You want to talk about your day yet?” Both knew they would have to address the bad day at some point, and they had reached the point in the session when it usually would be discussed.

“I woke up cranky,” Emerson closed her eyes again, flinching when Shawn’s hands ran over sore spots on her ass. “The fire alarm going off that early sucked, and I didn’t get back to sleep.” Emerson had tossed and turned trying to get back to sleep until her alarm for work went off. 

Shawn squeezed a little more lotion on to her skin, “I told you that you could have called in sick and we could have snuggled all day.”

Emerson sighed, “well I didn’t. Ow,” she mumbled when Shawn pressed too hard into a sore spot on the top of her right thigh. “And then I got to work and my heel broke and I fell and a nail broke and it just sucked,” she rushed the words out all at once trying to avoid crying again. 

“You could have called me on your lunch break-”

“I didn’t have time for lunch,” Emerson cut Shawn off, “we were in and out of meetings all day.” He noticed how exhausted she looked, she had bags under her eyes and she seemed to barely be able to stay awake after their session. “And I just wanted to come home and snuggle but you were writing and I spilled coffee on myself and today sucked.” She repeated the word but couldn’t think of much more to describe how shitty her day had been. 

Shawn finished rubbing the last of the lotion into her skin and lifted Emerson up so he could lie down. He carefully settled her head on his chest and kissed her temple, “now we can snuggle, and in a little while we can get up and order dinner because I know your head is going to be killing you soon.” 

Shawn over the years Shawn was able to get to know Emerson’s body almost as well as she did, and he knew when she didn’t eat enough she often got migraines that Motrin couldn’t fix. Emerson turned her head to look up at Shawn, “that Greek place downtown?” She had been hungry since early that afternoon and now that Shawn had mentioned food her stomach had seemed to grow even more empty.

“Yes,” Shawn laughed, “I’ll order from the Greek place downtown.” He started combing his fingers through her hair again, “but for now can we nap?” Emerson had forgotten that as much energy as she was able to release during the sessions, Shawn had to use the same amount, if not more to help her get the emotional release she needed. He often found himself exhausted and spent after therapy spankings and the pair would nap together for a couple hours before Shawn would apply another layer of lotion to Emerson’s skin. 

A long yawn tumbled past Emerson’s lips, “a nap sounds fantastic,” she mumbled, her eyes closing again. Shawn watched as her hand moved down his chest to intertwine with his, her thumb rubbing along his swallow tattoo. “Thank you Shawn,” she smiled, “I love you.”

Shawn leaned down and nuzzled his nose into Emerson’s hair that smelled like his shampoo, “you’re welcome, Bunny. I love you too.”

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes one shot #shawn mendes x oc #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes fan fic #shawn mendes: a cake pop

[kaspbrak-tozier-reddie]

1,13,25 Reddie for the festive prompts please 😁

#1 “It’s almost midnight” #13 “Ho ho ho bitch” #25 “Wait, no one got you anything?”

Warnings: Mentions of abuse, swearing, this came out more angsty than I wanted, abusive Wentworth and Maggie. But real fluffy towards the end.

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Summary:

Much to Richie’s dismay, for their time back in Derry for the holidays, the Losers spend Christmas at Richie’s but things start to build up and Eddie sends everyone to Mike’s farmhouse to be safe and to keep Richie away from his parents. Despite the angst that this story holds in the beginning, there’s a sweet ending to it that I hope makes up for the angst that I wrote.

——————————

“Wait, no one got you anything?” Eddie asks Stan.

“No! I had made several friends over the year that we’ve been at college and none of them bought me a birthday gift!” Stan shrieks.

“Could it be because you’re Jewish?” Richie prompts, Stan gives him a stern look and Richie put his arms up in surrender of the daggers behind Stan’s glare.

“I’m sorry, I’m just so used to you guys,” Stan mutters, he’s always claimed that he hated everyone but they all knew it was fake. Stan’s stoic exterior was always a front to his true emotion but everyone sees right through it. At least his childhood friends.

The Losers huddled around for warmth in the uninviting room that Richie Tozier once slept in, now in college, his walls are bare with only the outlines of the band posters that once were taped in place. Since it’s Christmas and the Losers were all flying into Derry for their families, they decided to make their way over to Richie’s for the festive time. Even though Stan’s Jewish, he came back for the friends, not wanting to be the only one to not show up. He missed everyone, especially Mike and Bill, but that isn’t the point. It gave him a reason to go shopping instead of the general trip out to the grocery store. “It’s almost midnight!” Richie sings softly, careful to not wake his parents. “1 hour to go.”

But he forgot that Wentworth has ears like a dog, sensitive sense of hearing. “QUIET DOWN RICHARD!” Wentworth’s blaring voice makes the thin walls tremble, the echoing sound of Wentworth Tozier is enough to make everyone wince, not just Richie. 

Richie usually refused to let anyone stay the night (except Eddie), it was usually just the “stay for dinner; study then leave” kinda thing, that way nobody knew how bad his parents could be. Eddie, however, knew, if things got rough at home he’d sneak in through Richie’s window and Richie often did the same with Eddie. Both seeking comfort from the other. 

“I knew it was bad Rich but this is - ” Beverly’s cut off by Richie’s hand a signal for her to stop.

“Don’t even, this isn’t the worst of it,” Richie says, “Look, forget about Worthless and have a fun Christmas.” Eddie rubs Richie’s back, trying to comfort him like he usually did whenever Richie snuck over in the late hours of the night. 

Eddie knows that the others would understand if but at the same time Richie never really wanted to speak about it. His jokes cover-up so much, most of which only Eddie knows about. Sure Richie had often thought about telling the others why they couldn’t go to his house but he could never muster up the courage. That’s where he’s at now, beating himself up because he was forced to have Christmas over at his parents’ place instead of Mike’s or Ben’s like the original plan was. No matter how hard he fought it, there was no point in arguing with the Losers, Eddie tried to butt in once, in Richie’s defence, but was cut off by Stan.

*

“How about, we go to sleep and deal with the outcome tomorrow? If it’s bad as it usually is, we can head Mike’s.” Eddie says cuddling into Richie.

“Okay, how the fuck do you know -” Ben stops himself, looking between the two 19/20-year-old boys, Bev snickers, Mike and Bill look at Richie and Eddie questioningly and Stan rolls his eyes.

“Let’s just sleep,” Eddie huffs kicking the 5 other Losers off the bed and gets under the covers, sliding into Richie’s hold. 

Eddie can feel Richie turn behind him and he naturally follows, spooning Richie’s long lanky build. He runs his free hand through the tuft of Richie’s dark tight curls, letting his fingers detangle some of the strands. Richie’s shoulders start to shake slightly and short puffs of air start to flow from his mouth, something wet drips onto Eddie’s hand. Eddie immediately throws a leg over Richie’s waist, pulling him closer, he nuzzles his head into Richie’s shoulder and pushes him back a little, hoping the taller man would take the hint. Thankfully Richie does and turns over so that he’s on his back, Eddie moves his head up so that his mouth is right by Richie’s ear. “Ignore your parents Rich,” Eddie whispers, “You’re 20, they can’t do anything. If they try anything, you have me and the others.”

“Thanks, Eds,” Richie mumbles. 

The two lie in the bed, huddled together for the warmth and Richie’s comfort, it’s almost like nothing has changed. Even though they live thousands of miles apart, with Richie in Seattle and Eddie in New York, they still call and Skype each other daily, refusing to part with each other. Their friendship overpowering everything else, it’s them against the world, even if their crush on each other is getting too deep and too powerful for either to handle. 

Richie having lost his in the Summer of ‘89, having written R+E on the Kissing Bridge when he was the mere age of 14.

****

Several hours pass and Richie and Eddie end up being the only ones up, the two dodges passed Bill and Mike who had their sleeping bags right by the door and slip out to the kitchen. “Merry Christmas Eddie Spaghetti,” Richie says hugging the shorter (by only a few inches) boy.

“Merry Christmas to you too Richie, see that you’re already using nickname privileges,” Eddie replies.

There are only three days in the entire year that Eddie allows for such nicknames to be used; Christmas, Eddie’s birthday and Richie’s birthday. Of course, in Richie fashion, he doesn’t waste it, using only nicknames for the entire day. Not once calling Eddie, well, Eddie.

“You betcha, Eds.” Eddie shudders but remembers that he can’t get mad either, all part of the privilege. Why oh why did his 15-year-old self give into such a terrible thing?! 

*

Richie flicks on the pot of coffee, making sure there’ll be enough for 5 caffeine hungry Losers while Eddie opts for the tea option, so Richie quickly flicks on the kettle knowing full well that he filled it with water the night before. “Richard? Get me some aspirin and turn that fucking kettle off.” Ah, the kind words of Maggie Tozier. “I have a ghastly headache, I’m not in the mood -” Maggie walks right into the kitchen and sees Eddie in his matching Christmas pyjama set, “sorry, didn’t know you had company. William, isn’t it?”

Eddie can’t believe what is happening before him. It must’ve gotten worse, she’s never called him ‘William’.

“Ma, this is Edward Kaspbrak,” Richie says calmly, almost like he’s introducing them, for the first time, and hands her two tablets of Aspirin for her hangover. “Why don’t you go back to bed, it’s 7 in the morning.” Richie leads her back to his parent’s bedroom, pauses by the door as he makes sure she’s in bed then closes the door behind him.

The sight is too painful for Eddie to bare, sure he’s seen both Went and Maggie at their worst but never this. He has never seen Richie pull out the ‘parenting the parent’ act before. “Talk to me, please?” Eddie begs.

“Eddie, I - this is why I always kicked you out before you could see. This - this… oh fuck.” Eddie watches the man before him in his red fluff Christmas onesie crash to the floor. 14 years of looking after his mom and getting beaten up by his dad, he finally shows his weakness. His legs caving from under him, causing him to fall to the ground, tears streaming down his face, the kettle whistling in the background. Eddie rushed to the ground pulling Richie in for a long much-needed shoulder to cry on. 

 *

 The whistling of the kettle continues to get louder and louder, sure enough out walks Wentworth, his face red, steam coming out from his ears. Eddie can see him in out the corner of his eye as he continues to try to calm Richie down. “Richard!” Mr Tozier’s voice booms through the kitchen and Eddie starts to worry. Richie is pulled up and slammed into the counter facing the coffee pot, face inches away from the scolding hot glass. “Hurry, boy.”

“Mr Tozier, please stop,” Eddie begs. “It’s Christmas.” Wentworth turns away from the broken Richie who quickly crawls to the corner of the kitchen, quivering in fear.

“Christmas? Is that so? So what if it’s Christmas.” Wentworth spits, “now as for you. I want you out. If not I will call that mother of yours and I highly doubt she’ll be pleased that you aren’t over there for Christmas.”

Eddie looks to Richie who is looking at him with an apologetic smile, the fear is replaced with anger and hostility. Eddie has only seen that look a few times, whenever Bowers had called Eddie a gay slur in middle school.

But this is Christmas and it is supposed to be a time full of joy and family. But obviously, Wentworth has different ideas. 

Eddie, quickly remembers that 5 others are sleeping in Richie’s room, completely oblivious to the scene unfolding in the kitchen. And if Wentworth is angry enough, it will get very, very bad, very quickly! He tries everything in his power to not think about his restricted airway from his ‘asthmatic’ (panic) attack. “I will, just please let me get my things first then I’ll be on my way, sir,” Eddie says shyly, not wanting to stir up more problems than there already was. Wentworth backs down and Eddie bolts to Richie’s room.

Panic surges through him not wanting to leave Richie vulnerable to Wentworth. Oh, why didn’t I do something sooner?! Eddie thinks. If only I didn't think so selfishly as a child. So what if he had to go to a family member in Florida or Texas. At least he would've been safe.

He could've gotten Richie help all those years ago, instead, there they are as 20-year-olds and Richie is still terrified of his parents. Telephones were invented for a reason.

 *

“GUYS! We have to leave!” Eddie says kicking legs. “But be quiet and go out through his window.”

“What why?” Mike asks.

“I’ll explain once I get to your farmhouse. This is a red alert, guys. Move it!” Eddie says and the 5 of them groggily chuck everything out the window and make a run for it not wanting to be in amongst whatever is happening in the kitchen.

Eddie slowly packs up his belongings in his backpack and makes his way back out. As he rounds the corner he sees Richie trying to contain himself. His bony arms shake as he tries to pour coffee into 9 mugs. Wentworth is nowhere in sight and Eddie knows it could be moments before he could come back. “Rich, I sent the other out, I’ll do this,” Eddie says quietly, Richie quickly moves aside and places back mugs they don’t need and Eddie pours the caffeinated beverage into two mugs and pours the outrageous, 2 shots of vodka, into Maggie’s mug. 

He leaves the mugs on the counter and races out the back door with Richie’s wrist in his hand, dragging him with him. They race through the back streets, away from the heart of the town, not wanting to be seen by people that may tell Wentworth where his son went. “Eddie, I’m sorry,” Richie pants as they’re about halfway to Mike’s farmhouse.

“Richie -”

“No stop, I’m weak, I should’ve stood up for you.” His words hit Eddie like a truck, it’s like a punch to the stomach. This isn’t how Christmas is meant to be, it isn’t meant to be full of fear.

“Richie, I should’ve said something to the others when they wanted to stay at yours instead of Mike’s or Ben’s. I knew how bad it can get and yet I did nothing!” Eddie’s vision becomes clouded with tears and quickly blinks them away and drags Richie down the hill towards the house. 

It is my fault, became Eddie’s mantra the rest of the walk down to Mike’s farm.

****

As soon as they pass the pile of bikes (and one standing), the pair are met with 5 people with stern looks in their eyes. “Ho ho ho bitch,” Richie says dully, towards Beverly.

“Ho ho ho bitch? No, you need to explain what the fuck happened,” Beverly says.

“Rich, I’ll tell them, you go sit down or make yourself a coffee, I’ve got this,” Eddie says, Richie moves slowly to the kitchen and starts up a pot of coffee.

“So?” Stan pushes.

Eddie takes a deep breath and looks over at Richie who is hunched over the counter, his shoulders shaking, symbolising that he’s either in shock or crying. Eddie wants nothing more than to race over and kiss him, hug him, fuck him but with the losers close by wanting an explanation, he walks them outside, away from Richie.

“Look, as you all know we all haven’t had the best of childhoods,” Eddie starts, the 5 of them nodding in agreement. “Richie’s was pretty bad, maybe just as bad as yours Bev …” Eddie trails off. “He should be the one to tell you.”

“Eddie, just fucking continue!” Bill says.

“Fine.” Eddie sighs, “Look his parents are abusive, his mother is verbally and his dad is physically abusive. Richie used to come over to mine at ungodly hours of the night in fear and pain. He never wanted to worry any of you and since I was there I was collateral damage.”

“What!?” Ben shrieks. “Why didn’t he tell us?”

“Because it’s Richie,” Stan says. “He wanted people to believe he’s brave so that they wouldn’t pick on him. It didn’t work though.” Everyone turns to Stan but he ignores the sudden attention. “Why did he go to you first?” Stan never wanted anyone to know that he secretly cares about all the losers, especially his first best friend, Richie.

“I lived closer than you all did and it’s because he was the only one who knew about my mother at that time. We were 8 when he first started climbing in through my window.”

 *

 Eddie remembers that night as if it were yesterday.  

He was asleep, as it was 11 pm, but he was woken up by a groan, one that was all too familiar. He turned on his lamp and sure enough, there’s his best friend pushing himself off the ground.  “Richie?” Eddie mumbled, sleep thick in his throat.

“Shoot, sorry Eddie, do you mind if I stay here?” Richie asked.

“Not unless you tell me what - I’m sorry is that a fucking bruise on your arm?” Richie’s eyes trailed to his forearm where sure enough, there was a large bruise and a cigarette burn mark right above it.

“My dad got me good.” Richie huffed, kicked off his shoes and slid into the bed beside Eddie. “Don’t tell anyone that my parents did this.”

“I won’t.”

The two pinky swore on it because, you know, 8-year-olds and fell asleep facing away from each other. But knowing that Eddie was sleeping only 3 inches away was enough to give him comfort.

 *

“Look, it’s Christmas and it would be nice to forget about the Toziers expect for the one in the kitchen who needs us, his real family,” Eddie says and guides the lot of them back into the house.

Richie’s sitting on the couch cradling the cup of coffee in his hand. Dry tears had stained his face in the few minutes that the 6 other Losers had been outside. Eddie moves to sit down beside Richie, who immediately breaks again at Eddie’s soft touch. “Baby?” Eddie whimpers, Richie tries to fight it, not wanting the others to witness his vulnerable state. “FUCK THIS CHRISTMAS!” He doesn’t care if Eddie sees him cry since Eddie had on several occasions whenever Richie climbed in through his window.

“Edward,” Eddie stops at the sound of Richie’s soft yet stern voice. “I just want to forget what happened this morning.”

“Rich,” Eddie hiccups, he loses it. He can’t contain his guilt, his shame any more. He holds tightly onto Richie, mumbling a continuous stream of ‘I’m sorry’ into Richie’s chest. The taller boy starts to rub Eddie’s back, soothing him. “I had known for so long, I should’ve done something but I didn’t want you to be taken away. I was so fucking selfish.”

“I love you, Eds, calm down, okay. I’m safe,” Richie says, Eddie’s tears start to slow down. “We’re with our true family. The one that cares and loves us.” Eddie pulls back and looks into Richie’s eyes, past the dirty lenses of his coke bottle glasses, they are glossed over with tears threatening to pour but they showed the love and affection that he could only see over the internet and had only one their first 3 dates before college started back up in the fall.

They had kept their relationship under wraps now for 5 or 6 months and Richie saying those 3 magical words is enough for Eddie to stop. “I love you too Richie,” Eddie hiccups, calming down from the crying. “I’m still sorry.” Richie grabs Eddie’s cheeks and kisses him, slipping his tongue into Eddie’s mouth to truly shut him up. Eddie pulls back after a few seconds, remembering his friends are in the room.

“You’re okay,” Bill says for the first time without the stutter. “We’re all okay and you both are far away from those people.” 

“Okay okay, enough about the Toziers. When the fuck did you two plan to tell us?!” Beverly squeals.

“Ummmm, never?” Richie replies.

“You asshole!” Bill says.

“Okay okay, calm down everyone, I’m sure there’s a good excuse,” Stanley mutters.

“I didn’t want to hear the wrath of Mrs K when she found out that I was cheating on her with her hot-ass son,” Richie says smugly, Eddie groans. 

Everyone throws up their hands in disgust hoping that Richie would give a nice emotional story about how he got Eddie. How he finally stopped pining for the other boy and asked him out. But alas! Richie pulls out the Sonia Kaspbrak card causing the tension to be released and Eddie to groan. “Seriously though, I found him on a dating app when I was in New York, visiting him, and we decided to test out the waters,” Richie says.

*

The pair went to a cafe and Eddie had gotten up to pay, Richie had taken the opportunity to open up one of his 4 dating apps only to be faced with the tough decision to either swipe right or swipe left on his hypochondriac best friend. He was slightly mortified considering that he didn’t think Eddie was gay, though he was curious and hesitantly tapped on the profile. 

As soon as the profile opened, Richie was shocked, to say the least, the photos that Eddie had uploaded were most certainly not Mrs K approved. The tall curly-haired boy had to quickly scroll away before he got a subsequent hardon from them. As he looked through Eddie’s likes and dislikes he came across a statement about the men he’s into and it caused Richie to almost have a heart attack. “I like my men with the shittiest taste of humour and the annoying nicknames and banter, hit me with the ‘mom jokes’ and ‘dick jokes’ any day.”

“Richie? Are you okay? You’re looking a bit pale,” Eddie said as he sat back down at the table.

“Huh? Yeah, just I, uh, found your profile,” Richie said and passed Eddie his phone. The boy in front of him gulps and looks up from the rectangular device. “I operate on mom jokes and dick jokes, Eds. I know you hate nicknames but you secretly love it when I call you 'Eds’, were you hoping that one day I’d see your profile instead of talking to me like a normal human?”

“I - ” Eddie stopped himself and looked at Richie’s profile since he still had Richie’s phone in his hands. His eyes widen, the corner of his mouth curls up. “You like me too, asshole?”

“I - uh - yeah, yeah I do. Shit, I have since I was 13.”

Richie looked back at his byline and chuckled 'Looking for a short stack cutie who wears a fanny pack.’ He still couldn’t believe that he wrote that, it was wrong on some level but yet, it wasn’t cringy like Eddie’s was. 

*

“It wasn’t awkward we already were practically dating anyway,” Eddie laughs.

“‘Bout time you both realised,” Mike cries. Eddie and Richie look to each other and burst out laughing in absolute agreement.

The two had agreed on their first date that they had been ridiculous. Dancing around each other like there’s no tomorrow when they could’ve had this far sooner than 2 years into college. Eddie no longer needing an excuse to touch Richie, and Richie no longer needing the reason to annoy Eddie, but he still does it anyway because that’s just who Richie is - a pain in Eddie’s behind, both metaphorically and physically. 

The Losers all huddle around Richie and Eddie needing Richie to grasp hold onto all the comfort, love and support he has from every single one of them in that room. Not a moment goes by that Richie isn’t thanking them or kissing every single one of their cheeks to show that he loves them too - not just his cute, hypochondriac boyfriend. 

The others all pull away but leaves Bev and Richie to themselves, both crying into each others hair. Seeing Richie lose all his strength that he’s been showing for the past 8 years to Bev, Mike, Ben and Bill, triggered Bev’s response. Richie had comforted her all those years ago when her father was abusing her and was being taken away to live with an aunt or grandparent many states over. She didn’t want to leave the amazing group of friends that she had made but she was secretly glad that she was moving far away from the town that caused her pain for 13 years. 

Now it was Richie’s turn, he needed everybody’s support but he needed Bev; if there’s one thing he has learnt over the years is that Bev gives the best hugs in times of need. “I’m proud of you Rich,” She mumbles into the soft curls of Richie’s unwashed and untamed hair. “Fuck them.” Richie laughs in turn and pulls away, wiping his eyes and reaches for his now cold black brew coffee. He takes a sip and cringes at the taste but sculls the rest of it nonetheless. 

“Presents?” Eddie asks, “I retrieved them all from under the tree before we left.”

A chorus of loud 'yes’s filled the living room and Eddie pulls open his backpack. 28 wrapped gifts tumble out of the bag and onto the floor at Eddie’s feet, he makes piles for each person and one by one everyone grabs their piles of presents and starts to open them. Even though the morning was ruined, the day got better as the Losers Club gathered 'round and opened gifts, that’s the beauty of them, they acknowledge the pain and trauma and then push it away and forget about it entirely.

“Eds, I uh. Look just read this. I’m going to the bathroom,” Richie says, passing his boyfriend an envelope upon leaving his warm embrace. Eddie watches Richie leaves and slowly tears the paper, inside is a letter and judging from Richie’s behaviour he can only assume that he’s breaking up with him but that is very far from the truth.

*

Dearest Eds,

This is probably the stupidest thing I will say and will probably regret as you will either say it’s too soon or some shit and I get that. I love you and if I haven’t said that by now then I’m a fucking idiot and you have permission to kick the crown jewels, actually don’t I may be a dick but please do not do that.

Anyway, I am going to propose this. I am thinking about transferring colleges for next semester, that is of course if you will take my preposition. Will you move in with me? I love you and I hate that we only have a fucking long-distance relationship, I want to be able to kiss you, hug you, take you on dates. You deserve so much more than you’re getting from me and I wouldn’t blame you if you did end up breaking up with me but I know you wouldn’t. 

We’ve practically been dating since our fucking first year of high school, so really may be moving in with each other isn’t too soon. Or am I being impulsive? I would do anything for you Eddie Spaghetti and moving to NYC to be with you is #1 on my list of things I’d do for you. If we weren’t 20, only been dating for 6 months and still in college, I would 100% propose to you.

I love you so fucking much,

Forever yours,

Trashmouth

 *

As soon as he puts the letter down, he can feel something hot and wet run down his cheeks, he didn’t even know he was crying. Stan immediately wanting to kick Richie’s ass for making Eddie cry, picks up the letter and reads it. “Awe,” he mumbles. “Richie is actually sweet?” Then he gags a little when he gets closer to the end. “I think I’m going to be sick, this is far too sappy.”

****

Richie comes back from the bathroom and comes face to face with 5 grinning Losers and 1 sobbing boyfriend, who’s running towards him. “Yes, Richie, yes!” Eddie squeals embracing Richie in a tight embrace. “I love you so fuckin much but never, ever, make it seem like you’re breaking up with me again!”

“Of course Eduardo Andale,” Richie says and Eddie groans, “Right, sorry, of course, never again.“ 

Eddie smiles and kisses his boyfriend with a much passion as he can muster and lightly tugs on Richie’s brown curls. He lets his fingers knot in the bird’s nest that Richie calls his hair, he savours the taste of Richie’s mouth, cigarettes, coffee and spearmint gum. "Okay! Okay! Stop it!” Stan cries. “You two can bone later.”

Richie groans at the loneliness when Eddie pulls away and the shorter boy plants a kiss to Richie’s cheek but even that doesn’t satisfy him. “Later,” Eddie mutters softly to the taller boy and Richie shudders in response. 

Stan puts on Die Hard, wanting to watch an action but Christmas film and while everyone is distracted by arguing over Die Hard and Love, Actually; Richie takes it upon himself to pull Eddie onto his lap and kisses him softly. “Would you be mad if I told you that I wasn’t planning on transferring but had done it already?” Richie asks against Eddie’s soft pink plump lips. Eddie perks up, pulling away from Richie.

“Did you?” Eddie whispers, Richie nods and the small boy drags Richie to the bathroom, leaving the others (who are still arguing over the best Christmas movie) completely unaware of what is about to go down in Mike’s guest bathroom.

#reddie #richie x eddie #eddie x richie #eddie kaspbrak #richie tozier #it chapter 1 #it chapter 2

[alitheamateur]

The Grind- Chapter 13

431 days. A tragus piercing. A black pencil tattoo permanently etched at the highest point of my right ribcage, and shadow roots in my sandy hair thanks to Becca, my new hairstylist recommended my latest friend, Tia. All things refreshed and renewed in the life of Liv Elliott. Single Liv Elliott. Okay, nearly all. One thing most certainly, and sorely remained the same. My beating heart was still smashed like a steel mallet had turned loose on it. Sure, the festering emotional cut of our breakup was beginning to mend with time. But, we all know with a healing cut, comes a forever scar. Not a scar representing a victorious battle, or a valiant effort. But one of sheer, naïve stupidity.  I choked on a daily spoonful of utter confusion wondering where the road took such a drastic detour towards that killer cliff we had so recklessly plunged from. I constantly fought the burning urge to scratch and claw my way back up the side of that treacherous mountain to find my way back to the earliest road. The road with Colton as my copilot. 

I so graciously allowed myself 2 weeks to hide away. Flounder in tears, Rocky Road, and maybe even a drunken bonfire of most photographic evidence that Colton ever existed. I avoided mascara all together, concluding that some point of my day would inevitably lead to a blubbering breakdown as I hid in the office bathroom. I rearranged the entire span of my apartment, hopeful maybe the new positions of furniture would confuse the ghosts of him that all too often appeared laid out comfortably on the couch, ankles crossed during a Sunday nap. Or slumbering face down with one hand under a pillow and the other stretched out toward the opposite side of the bed, lips loose in sleeping breathes. I couldn’t outrun the flashbacks no matter the effort. Even still, he haunts me on a Saturday morning at The Grind, or on a Tuesday night at my place with takeout from the B-rated Chinese joint down the street. However now, the sickness of utmost sadness, overcome with a rancorous flood of anger instead. Mostly with Colton, rightfully so. But myself as well. The foolish, undignified way I had just fallen under his potent spell, I might as well have just dropped to my knees and waved the white flag the second he introduced himself. And yet, the unsolved mystery remained. HE had said he loved me first. Sure, I felt it near the moment he kissed me after our run through the city that morning, but I chose to bury the words for another time. Colton on the other hand, had no problem spouting off his revelation to me. Nor did he stutter on the admittance of apparently “thinking with his dick” when it came to the matter of our meeting that fateful morning either. One thing I was able to confirm, was the son of a bitch clearly suffered a severe case of habitual word vomit.

The Pilot for me was a bit of a safe haven in a war zone, it being a place I could hide from the demons a bit. My new title at the paper requiring me to cover all things fighting within a 100-mile radius on the other hand, posed a bit of an issue. Thank the holy heavens I had avoided the press conference for his first match following our demise, due to the short, paid hiatus I took to visit Westfield. A taste of nostalgia and familiarity seemed like suitable therapy for a maimed heart, and maybe a good caudle from my parents. An attempted one, at least.

Tony and Elizabeth, said parents, were good parents in general. I won’t take that away from their accomplishments. But when basketball gracefully bowed out of my life, their involvement followed suit. Dad & I always had ball as that bonding clue to hold us tightly together. Saturday mornings following Friday night games always began with film, 150 free throws out back on the handcrafted mock court he’d constructed for me, ending at Al’s Diner for pancakes. That first fateful Saturday after my knee surgery, we tried to replay the film and retreat to Al’s, but when the conversing concerning if I’d pass the current scoring record at Westfield High, or whether I would commit to University of Louisville or SIU no longer applied, we drifted. When the “basketball dad” shadow from the sticker he peeled from the rear window of his pickup truck faded, a hefty portion of the pride he held for his daughter did too.

As far as a closeness with mom, there truly wasn’t much. She preformed the expected team mom duties by hosting bake sale fundraisers, and chaperoning homecoming dances. But that dependable shoulder never pushed much further in the emotional realm of a relationship with me. My dad & I had always held a special closeness, leaving her to feel somewhat shoved to the proverbial back burner. I was never much for the “foofy” tea parties, or pageant queen aspirations she had, which no doubt drove the wedge deeper between the two of us. But, when I moved so far away, it seemed distance, and time had healed some wounds in our connection. When I arrived at the simple square, two story siding home on Lake Lane, my first friend in life, our Collie, Indiana nearly mounted to hood of my car to get to me. No doubt, his name sake my dads favorite action movie character, and my home-state.

“Hey Indy, you sweet boy! I’ve missed you, ya’ big guy!” I rumpled the cashmere like white coat around his neck.

Mom galloped out the red front door first, dad following suit at a slightly slower pace.

“Liv, honey! Oh, we’re so glad you’re here! We’ve missed you,” my mom squealed towards me with open arms.

“We really have missed you, kid. Look at ya’!” Dad persisted with the ever annoying greeting of ruffling the top of my head like some socially incoherent teenage boy.

They probably did miss me, I’m sure. But, apparently not enough to ever offer a visit with me since moving my things to the city of Pittsburgh. No matter what bitterness flowered, as I dragged deeper into adulthood, I had resolved that you only got one set of parents, and the importance of appreciating the ones you did get was dire. So, I decided to nurse some long dwelling resentment and go into this visit with a forgiving heart.

“I missed you guys, too. Things still look exactly the same around here.” I inventoried those familiar, award-winning rose bushes my mother grew in the landscape, and with attached garage door open, I was able to see dads tool shop sanctuary in exactly the shape I had left it. Not a hammer out of place.

“Let’s get you inside, sweetie. Dinner will be done soon, & I’m sure we have some catching up to do.” Mom placed her hands over my upper arms, guiding me into I’m sure a spotless house, while dad unloaded my suitcase from the back hatch of my SUV.

 Steaks cooked to perfection courtesy of Tony Elliott, self-proclaimed grilled master, were served in the newly remodeled dining room, and the 3 of us sat in the same assumingly designated spots that we had for all my childhood years. I did miss a motherly, prepared with love, home cooked dinner so I wasted no amount of time scarfing down the contents of her delicious spread.

“How are things with the promotion, Livvy? They aren’t taking advantage of ya’, I hope?” Dad dropped his fork gently to his plate, taking a sip of his tea.

“Things are good, dad. Ryan, my boss, really does treat me excellently. He’s always super complimentary of my work.” I assured.

“Sounds like a nice guy. Maybe someone has a little crush?” Elizabeth winked while sorting through the last few sprigs of lettuce in her salad bowl.

“Ha! No thanks, mom. He’s an awesome guy, but I’d never see him like that. Plus, I could never date my boss, you know that.” I scoffed all too quickly.

Alright, you fraidy-cat. Get to it, here! Tell them. About him.

“Plus, I think I need a little break from men these days.”

“A break? Meaning there’s been some boys around since you moved?” Mom was the first to chime in, while my dad sat idly by, trying to appear casually at ease. But, I knew he was hearing every syllable of the exchange between his wife and I.

“Just one guy, mom. Well, there was one guy.” My attention never left the chopped, leftover chunks of food on my white porcelain plate. “Remember the first piece I did on Mixed Martial Arts? My first front page?”

“Liv, don’t be ridiculous. Yes, it’s laminated and framed in the living room. Go on..” she answered, leaning on her hand as an elbow rested on the table for a blinking second, before she retracted it, minding her usual manners.

“I was with one of the competitors. Like, in a relationship for several months actually. Colton, the fighter who I was working one-on-one with.”

There, at least he’s out in the open now. The dirty secret is out.

“Was, meaning not anymore then?” Dad finally broke his cold silence.

“Not anymore, no. We haven’t been together for a while now. But, I….. I uh, I didn’t handle the split so well. Which is part of my reason for coming to see you guys.”

My mind spun like a tilt-or-whirl trying to sort through what needed to be said, and what I should leave out. They didn’t need to know how harshly he’d spoken to me, nor the pathetic amount of sick days I’d used to wallow in my tear-stained sheets and overindulge on snack-packs.

“It sounds like things were serious, honey. Frankly, I’m a little hurt you never told us about him.” My mom had taken an overbearing interest in me when I started dating in high school. Boys were something she saw as her forte, I assume. Dad and I had basketball, now she and I could have boys, and relationships. So, the lack of sharing about my now ex-boyfriend seemed to perturb her.

“It was serious, mom. Yeah. I loved him. I was in love with him. Case in point, why I didn’t handle our breakup with much dignity.”

“What happened, Liv? Anything I should be concerned about,” dad inquired in the ultimate “dad” tone of voice.

“It just didn’t work, guys. It’s done, and life goes on. Nothing more, okay?”

Life goes on, huh? Let’s practice what we preach, dear.

“Losing a love is hard, sweet pea. But you’re a strong, successful young lady, and you’ll recover just fine. I know it!” Mom smiled.

I admired her A+ efforts for the “mother bear” sermon. It’s what I needed, truly. No matter how I wanted to tell her I needed those little chats years ago. I needed that reassurance back when I thought life hated me, and some karmic attack had been yielded on my life. Recently though, she had been heartily trying with our relationship. Both of them had. And although the repairs were long overdue, and far from complete, I was thankful nonetheless.

 I hadn’t been back to my stomping grounds since I’d left slightly over three years prior, so I had my fair share of hellos to exchange, most importantly being my childhood best friend, and the shooting guard to my point guard, Sara. She hadn’t spread her wings from our small town, instead chose the “marry my perfect high school sweetheart and have the most painfully adorable twin boys on the planet” lifestyle, which suited her beautifully.  She met up with me at the local dairy freeze for a greasy order of cheese fries after ending the work day at her parents’ dental practice where she was employed as a hygienist. Sitting alone at the wooden picnic table carved with an array of heart enclosed initials of couples I knew never made it past junior year prom, I felt strangely foreign in the little town now. Distant, or homesick. Every hardware store clerk or mail carrier knowing about the family pet you had to put down because all news travelled like an unruly forest fire in Westfield, now seemed displeasing rather than endearing. I basked in a bit of big-headed pride realizing I had maybe outgrown this little corner of the world, and home suddenly felt eastbound. Whether that had anything to do with my recent ex had yet to be determined.

Sara arrived right on time, going straight for the counter to order her favorite Dr. Pepper ice cream float as she put it “first things first.” The girl may have been the only person in the whole population of 2,000 whom I held in trusting regard, so she was kept up to date through a hefty amount of text messages about the tumultuous romance of Liv and Colton. We exchanged a squealing hug before diving right into the heavy matter.

“How are you? First off, you look freakin’ amazing. The big city looks good on you, Elliott,” Sara flopped into her seat, pulling off her pink labcoat.

“Shut up, you liar. The bags under eyes have bags, Sara. I’ve been a sloppy, sobbing, bitchy, pathetic mess for going on two months now. Like, who am I and will it end?!” I felt so light being able to genuinely come out in the open with all the emotion I was dealing with. A crucial missing piece to my life in the Burgh was a real, true friend such as Sara. Someone to take shoe shopping, and call drunk at 3 a.m. when you’re well into a half of bottle of Pinot and can’t keep from hysterically bawling over the ghastly way your boyfriend spoke to you.  A woman needs the Lavern to her Shirley to share life with.  

“It’s called love, honey. Welcome to the party,” she sucked vigorously through the straw of her float. “We’ve been waiting for you to show up.” I appreciated her gracious attempt to lighten the mood.

“Well if this is what it’s all about, I won’t be coming back.” I spoke mumbled chewing on a fry.

“It doesn’t always turn out this bad, babe. You just fell really, really hard. Which means getting over it will probably be equally as difficult. As much as I hate to see you like this…”

“Easy for you to say, Sara. You practically married Prince Harry or something. Can’t I just borrow yours sometime?” I clowned.

Her husband was truly the best of the best, and he’d been that way since the beginning. So, I always harbored some envy of sorts toward the seeming perfection of their relationship.

“In all honesty, Sare, I don’t know that I’m going to have the same feelings for whoever comes along like I did Colton. I’m not going to be irrational enough to say I’ll never love again, because I know that’s just silly and overdramatic. I’m just not sure it’ll be as raging and romantic, ya’ know what I mean?”

Just as she was about to hit me with some bogus line probably directly from an article she’d read in Cosmopolitan, a familiar voice intruded.

“My God, am I having a flashback right now?” Our varsity head coach Eric Gibson yelled from the open window of his parked car.

The guy was a true, unadulterated saint. He’d pulled me from the 8th grade roster to dress up for him on JV, so I lost count on how many games we’d competed in together. He shed nearly as many tears as my own father had when I collided with that player from Carson County causing me to close out my chapter as a ball player. He quickly locked the doors to his vehicle with two beeps of the horn, and made his way eagerly to us.

“Coach, how are you?” I stood to meet his incoming hug. With Sara still residing in Indiana I’m sure their paths crossed frequently in town.

“I’m doing fine, Liv. Shocked to see you here, girl! Are you back in Westfield?” He patted Sara with a coy hand to the shoulder, and we returned ourselves after the exchange of greetings.

“Oh, no no. Just here for a visit. I finally got the chance to take a little vacation from work, so I thought I’d come check in on Sara, and my parents.”

“Yeah, you’re a real superstar here, you know that? Everyone had a field day when your article made the front page for your paper. It was the talk of the town!”  

I blushed vividly at his statement. “Thanks, coach. It’s really nothing though.”

His mouth opened wide in defense. “It most certainly is something, Liv. It’s a huge accomplishment! Don’t be so modest. Hard work deserves to be recognized, and I know you’re no stranger to working hard in everything you do.” He paused to nudge my shoulder that grazed his. “ You’re talented, Elliott. And scrappy as hell when need be! Those big shots at that newspaper better just stay outta your way.”

Suddenly, there it was. The switch of undignified pity had self-destructed. Leave it to Coach to set me straight as he always did. I was scrappy as hell! The 4 games I’d been ejected from back in school clear evidence. It was time to exercise that same fearlessness and grit to scratch myself to the surface again, leaving behind this lonely, moldy grave Colton had dug for me. He may have outweighed me by an easy sixty pounds, and could’ve snapped me in half in the concern of strength. But mentally? It’d have to be ruled a no contest.

That night, back to square one in the little town in Indiana, over cheese fries & cheap milkshakes, with an out-and-out smack reminder courtesy of coach Gibson, I awoke. The sleepwalking, gray way of life a thing of the past. I excused myself from the parade of self-pity I had long been the grand marshal for.

“Maybe she’ll take your word for it, Coach. I’ve been trying to get that very same thing through that thick head of hers.” Sara interjected, slurping the last traces of whipped cream from her glass.

“Okay, okay, you two. Lay off before it all goes to my head.” I shook with a chuckle, and decided then and there, that I was going to find peace and satisfaction in life when I got back to Pittsburgh, someway, somehow, no matter what. I wanted my heart back from him. The heart he clearly had no use for any longer.

TAGS: @torialeysha @eap1935

#Tom Hardy #tomhardy #tom hardy fanfiction #tommy conlon #tomhardyfanfic #elizabeth olsen #tomhardyfanfiction

[the-ghost-writers]

Monster BF headcanons

Cause why not? But really it’s because some peeps on discord ( @punkpoppunkpop @aurumdragonfly and a few others) wanted to know what kinda boyfriend their favorite monsters would be, and I was happy to oblige.

Orc 

You met him by walking past while he was training and you stopped to watch.

With an audience, he felt the need to really show off and go hard to show just how strong he is.

He sauntered up to you expecting you to be smitten. 

You were, but you caught him off guard with your praise from calling him cute.

 He got flustered, which made him stutter, which made him even more flustered. 

At least once a day you remind him of how much of a dork he was when yall first met. 

He hushes you by wrapping you up in a bear hug where he squeezes just tight enough to keep you from speaking. 

He really likes carrying you around.

Play with his beard and he'll melt. 

Loads more under the cut. (Shoot an ask if you want a headcanon of a species that isn’t listed)

Wyvern 

You originally met because he was hunting you but then he got so caught up in talking with you that he forgot he was hungry.

Regularly takes you on flying trips because he likes flying and likes spending time with you, so doing both is amazing to him.

Has no arms so he uses his neck to wrap around and "hug" you.

Tends to perch (like a bird) on anything and everything.

Gets overexcited and tackles you to the ground if you've been apart.

Immediately apologizes.

Loves to smother you with kisses at a rapid-fire pace.

Curls around and tucks you under his wing when it's time for bed.

Cuthulu 

You just wanted to swim in the ocean when you happen to cut yourself and managed to bleed in just the wrong or right spot to summon him. 

Horrifying cause he's over 20 stories tall and doesn't like shrinking down. 

Still shrinks down so he can be held by you when he's feeling touched starved.

Has trouble speaking any human language so he uses his hands for communication.

Sometimes forgets that you need air to breathe and his kisses leave you light headed.

Most people go mad if they look into his eyes, so do you but you fall mad in love.

Knows people are afraid of him, but he wants to be with you so he sneaks around to steal you away for a trip to the ocean floor (don't worry, he has a way to let you breathe.) 

His Earth home is a massive cave littered with glittering crystals. 

Kobold 

He’s absolutely teeny, not to mention tiny, but he acts like he's the biggest man around. 

Shout everything without realizing it. 

He's just really energetic. 

Feels the need to defend your "honor" from everything. 

Sometimes he'll try to fight someone for just looking at you. 

You have to stop him cause he really isn't a fighter. 

Despite his mishaps, he loves you more than anything. 

When you asked why he “protects” you so much, he said kobolds always protect their treasure. 

Seriously, he's like waist high. 

Really good at fixing things tho, not a single door in your house squeaks and he fixed you A/C in under an hour.

Robot 

Large and in charge. 

Literally, he's 8 feet and built with the purpose of being a security guard. 

After his day job is over, he goes and spends the rest of his time with you. 

Doesn't need sleep, just to recharge, so if he's plugged in then he can stay up with you all night. 

Or really until you fall asleep

To sleep in bed with you, you two installed a special charging station in your bedroom that use cords to charge him and allow him to lay in bed with you. 

The cords are on his back so he's always the big spoon.

A very, very big spoon. 

Constantly upgrading his body to be more comfortable for you. 

His latest upgrade was heating plates for when you're cuddling together. 

Sometimes speaks in robot which is apparently a thing they don’t like doing in front of humans and it’s a whole lotta beeps and whirrs before he remembers who he's talking to and tries again.

Minotaur 

The biggest grump you know. 

Although he's notably less grumpy with you than he is with others.

A scowl is always on his face but sometimes he forces it to keep up his image.

"What do you mean I need new clothes? My loincloth only has three tears in it." 

Excellent sense of direction. 

Really likes tight spaces.

Won't admit that he likes it when you're sitting on his shoulders. 

Run your fingers through his leg fur and it'll bristle. 

Hates the cold and will shamelessly use you as a personal heater. 

Mummy 

Actually woke up in a museum, you were the only one around at a time.

At an utter loss of why he's not in the afterlife.

He followed you home thinking it was a path to the beyond.

Was not happy when he learned it wasn't.

Not all too concerned because he thinks he'll get there eventually.

Calmed down but didn't leave your home because he had nowhere else to go.

Still thinks he's in Egypt and that only a few years have passed since his death. 

Won’t tell you who he was in life because he knows that it bugs you that you don’t know who he was.

Doesn't like seeing what's under his wraps but will show you if asked. 

After a while, he learns he has a bit of magic and can levitate things. 

Levitates you towards him and wraps you up (He doesn't get the joke) in his arms so he has something to hold. 

Doesn't actually realize he's falling for you until months later when you're already practically a couple. 

Thinks technology is magic even a year has passed since he woke up and you’ve explained what a smartphone is seven times now. 

Kaiju 

Walks around on four legs and is as big as a 15 story building. 

Regularly gets in fights with other kaiju, wins every other one.

Will come home (to your home, his is the ocean) victorious and start gloating about how amazing he is until you join in.

It’s because he adores your praise. 

If he lost, he'll be whimpering for you to take care of him (can't do much other than kiss it better but he has regeneration.) 

You're starting to wonder if he gets in so many fights so you'll give him attention. 

Speaks broken English and his voice is gravely. 

Lays on top of you if you try to leave when he doesn't want you to. 

Doesn't care that your work won't take "a giant kaiju sat on me" as an excuse for being late. 

Eastern Dragon 

"Respect your elders" any time you disagree with him in the slightest. 

Always floating around, hasn't touched the ground or been still in 50 years. 

Stubby arms.

He's sensitive about it. 

Twirls his mustache and cackles like a villain when he's being a little shit. 

"I'm the most humble person I know." 

Sometimes he'll take you up in the air and hold you in his coils to get you alone. 

Changes size a lot, sometimes he's the size of a train and sometimes he's the size of a shoelace. 

Gives dumb people sass but has yet to sass you. 

Werewolf 

Sometimes you wonder if he's a werewolf or a weregolden retriever. 

Always eating but never gains weight. (A nice combination of a good metabolism and a daily shape-shifting transformation that burns through thousands of calories.)

Snerks when someone starts talking about an “Alpha” werewolf.

Sheds like a bitch. (He DOES get the joke) 

His kisses are just lots of face licks.

Will start gnawing on your leg/arm if you ignore him too much. 

If you're not physically touching him to some extent he gets upset.

Super fluffy and surprisingly muscular.

Prefers his meats raw. 

Doesn't like fish. 

At all. 

An utter slut for head scritches.

Skeleton 

A total jokester.

Feels weird being naked. 

Will be naked for a prank tho. 

Skeletor is his idol.

Part-time job at the high school science lab. 

Knows every vine and meme there is.

2spooky4u 

Uses his bones to play songs. 

Don't call him sans. 

Don't ask him for a hand either, he'll toss his detached hand to you. 

"I've got a boner" 

"Rattles me bones!" 

Dressed up as Jack Skellington for Halloween. 

Deathclaw 

Originally tried to kill you but you were so pitiful cute that he stopped.

Once he deemed that you’re not a threat, he started ignoring you. 

Because your home is so close to his, his started seeing you as a part of his territory.

Eventually stopped being agitated by you and grew comfortable enough to not be on guard around you.

Rescued you from a bandit raid once but wouldn’t let you go home after, took you to his home.

It’s your new home, he’s your new roommate. 

Always wants you in his sight, he’ll follow you if you leave and corral you back to his cave if you wander too far off. 

Intelligent but doesn’t speak a lick of English, although has come to learn and react to a few key phrases “Hi, Love you, Fuck.”

That last one has led to a few problems when you shouted it in pain and he misinterpreted it. 

If he spends enough time outside in the day, he’ll glow in the dark in his cave. 

It used to make you sick but you grew used to it you might have radiation poisoning. 

He doesn’t care for his glowing body parts until he noticed your interest in him grows when he glows. 

Allows you to freely explore him. 

“Laughs” when you touch his teeth (he doesn’t understand why you’re fascinated by them but they’re so big that you just have to touch.) 

Wyvern 2.0 

So liked that he got an encore

When he’s excited, he wags his tail but that makes him lose balance, so sometimes he’ll fall over when he first sees you. 

The lack of arms means he uses his head to nudge everything, and his tongue when it’s something delicate to handle. 

Definitely a morning person. 

He always wakes up before the sun rises, but he won’t try to leave the bed/nest until you’re up as well.

While you sleep, and especially while he’s waiting for you to wake up, he combs his wing tips along your soft spots because he likes the face you make when you’re comfortable. 

Can not be faulted being too big, you’re just too small. 

Really likes emeralds for some reason, he’s not sure why. 

When you lie next to him, you can hear his heartbeat and how it beats faster from you being near.

Trent 

A self-appointed guardian of the forest. 

Said forest is in your backyard. 

Notices you taking care of plants and thinks of you as a friend. 

Shocked when he reveals himself and you get excited. 

He expected you to be scared, not bouncing with excitement. 

Indulges you in your request to know more about him and shows all he can do, from manipulating plants to lifting boulders. 

Turns smug when you’re in awe of his body but is humbled from how soft you are and how much he likes touching you. 

Compares you to that of a flower and himself as a tree.

After that day, he starts inviting you to tea using the herbs he grows and shows off his pretty flowers. 

Gives you a flower crown that’s enchanted to never wilt. 

Fascinated by the glass objects in your house. 

Feels guilty for tracking dirt into your house.

Gryphon 

You’ve actually known him since he was a child because you two grew up together. 

Separate homes tho, his family lived in a forest beside your family’s home.

You both know the ins and outs of each other what with you two being best friends.

Puberty treated him very well and he grew to be very strong. 

In time, the aftermath of your wrestling sessions (if you win it’s only because he LET you win) went from the two of you finding food to laying together and watching the sky. 

He can’t speak aside from squawking, so you have to carry the conversations along. 

You can typically ride on his back to get to places. 

He bumps his beak against your head in his way of giving kisses. 

Belly rubs slay him. 

Taurus Demon 

Very open about his sexuality. 

Also one of the bigger demons around so he doesn’t worry about much. 

Spends his time waiting for the chosen undead laying around with you. 

Likes it when you’re laying on top or against him cause it lets him play with you.

Happy rumbles when he sees you.

“Look at my boyfriend! He’s so fucking small!” 

Really wants to train you to fight.

Lays in a bed of fire with you on top of him, his body protecting you from the heat.

Really blushy if he ever forgets his loincloth. 

Doesn’t realize that shouting at people to not look will only draw their attention.

Capra demon 

Tall but feels short for a demon. 

Actually a really good dancer (he pretends he’s using his swords.) 

Dog person. 

Likes to get into “friendly” competitions with you.

He’ll try to let you win but he’s too competitive. 

Wants to explore the world with you.

Thinks magic is really cool. 

Fuck shields tho. 

Really likes being the little spoon. 

Mothman 

You two met underneath a flickering street lamp.

Neither of you actually noticed each other until he bumped into you. 

You screamed, he fluttered his wings. 

When you both calmed down, he gave you a curious look cause he expected you to run. 

He’s really tall and you have crane your neck to see his face, but all you see are two red eyes. 

He wanders off and something in the back of your head tells you to follow. 

He brings you to a small opening in a forest where fireflies float about. 

He plops down and you sit beside him. 

He opens up fast and wraps an arm/wing around you as you both watch the show the bugs put on for you. 

You do this every week without ever saying a word. 

Last time you two met, he planted a kiss on your forehead and you two fell asleep on the ground, laying together. 

He soft.

#the reader is any gender #or no gender #whatever floats your boat

[ace-entrapta]

i was tagged by @pureren to do this! thanks for always tagging me in stuff tessa ily

1. Which BTS song means the most to you?

i don’t know ᵃᶰʸᵗʰᶦᶰᵍ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵏᵖᵒᵖ ˢᵒʳʳʸ

2. How do you feel about astrology?

i think it can be fun! but i don’t actually believe in it and i don’t think people should use it to make like.....meaningful life decisions

3. Do you think ghosts exist?

maybe? i mean i’m always skeptical and they probably aren’t but in a tiny part in the back of my mind i’m always wondering wow what if they are? what if there’s a ghost in this room right now??? and you bet your left foot if i’m in a creepy dark room ghosts are 100% real no questions asked and i’m going to die

4. What’s your favorite instrument?

hmmm i really like the sound of piano and violin, but also electric guitar is rad

5. Who was the last person to make you really smile?

my uncle lmao, i was washing the dishes and he was like “hey doing chores with no prompting? i think this syd-ling is going to grow into a great tree” and it was lame but i laughed

6. What do you do when you feel vulnerable?

usually try my best to avoid whatever is making me feel that way or try to laugh it off bc mild confrontation causes me to burst into tears 

7. What is the last dream you had?

i was going to a party (already wildly unrealistic), africa by toto is just fucking blasting in the background and everyone is dressed all casually in t-shirt and jeans and the like, and ya girl steps in wearing this goddamn ridiculous 1800s-ass french ballroom dress that’s taking up like half the space in the apartment. every single person in the room and 2 cats stop immediately to look at me, music stops. i’m just standing there wanting to die. someone walks up to me holding a red solo cup (the cup had a lizard in it??) and says simply: “bruh.” then stabs me in the neck with a rusty spoon. i wake up with a splitting headache the end

8. Are you a nature person?

depends really. nature can be really peaceful and wonderful at times and i feel like i could stay there forever. other times i take one step outside and i can already feel the ants crawling up my legs, onto my neck, onto my face oh god theyre under my skin now help me ple

9. What’s your favorite thing to do to relieve stress?

playing a calming video game, or just going to sleep tbh (i meditate sometimes but not often)

10. Do you have any other blogs you’d like people to check out?

not really atm? i mean i’m making an art blog but it isn’t set up yet and there’s no posts so rip

11. Marvel, DC, or neither?

both are fine, not really into that stuff much

12. What do you want out of 2018?

i want to be able to accept who i am and not worry every single second of the day what people think about me.

i’d also like depression and anxiety to finally leave me alone but that might take a miracle at this point tbh

13. Do you hold grudges?

yes, but i don’t let it affect the way i treat the person if it wasn’t something very bad/ they apologised/ it happened a long time ago. but i’m a person who is very sensitive and takes things very hard and things just...really get to me no matter how hard i try not to let them.

14. Who is your favorite Disney hero/heroine?

hmmm I love mulan, and lilo from lilo and stitch iff that counts

15. Do you consider yourself a positive person?

i try to be but honestly i’m not i can be extremely negative to the point where i’m just bringing myself down. optimism is hard for me these days bc i always immediately think of everything that could go wrong

16. What is something you love that’s underrated?

idk? maybe cloudwatching bc most people think it’s boring but it can actually be really relaxing

17. What is your dream job?

i don’t have one i have no idea what i’m passionate about or what my career is gonna be but if i had to chose probably something in biological research

18. If you could live anywhere in the world, where bitch? (i accidentally deleted this part)

[i couldn’t find the original of this tag game so this question is staying like this lmao]

i have...no idea?? maybe italy bc i could eat italian food every day until i die. if not idk, somewhere with actual lgbt+ rights? i’d like that

19. When was the last time you faced a fear and how did it go?

well i face my fear of social interaction daily and it isn’t a complete disaster so that’s great

20. Which would you prefer to read: poetry, fiction, or non-fiction?

fiction, but i like poetry too

21. Where do you feel most at ease?

in my room by my self because there are no obligations to act or look a certain way and with no one to appease i don’t need to worry as much as i usually do

i tag @kkoganekrolia @valknuits @ohlances @cupidlance & @undinelance

#not voltron #tag games #long post #some of these answers make me sound like a hermit #i probably am kinda #anxiety man #also i feel like i always tag the same ppl so i tried to tag those i dont think i have before #you dont have to do it ofc

[speedreiding]

Flee (Spencer Reid x Reader)

A/N: Hey guys! I really liked this idea and I didn't have any requests at the time so I decided to write it and I LOVE IT SO MUCH! I hope you like this as much as I do 😝 Warnings: fluff to the max, mentions of abuse, sexual assault, name calling Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader Prompt: the reader escaped her kidnapper and comes to a strangers door looking for help Request: ❌ Upcoming Imagine: part 2 of… - Cold, harsh air stung your throat as you sprinted down a poorly lit street. You constantly looked behind you to see if he was following you. The sick man had you kept for 3 days and when he came to give you your daily beating, you used a metal pole to strike him in the head as you escaped. You saw a familiar apartment complex and quickly ran up the stairs. Your friend lived here, her name was Holland but you can't remember what floor or number her room was so you pounded on a random door. "Please open! I need help!" You yelled looking behind you. It's become second nature. "Get the hell away!" You heard a raspy voice say. You had no clue what time it was but you knew it was very early in the morning. You looked for streams of light under doors, but there weren't any. You ran up another flight of stairs. "Holland! Please tell me where you are! I need you I need help." You yelled looking for any sign of a familiar number. You pounded on doors, feeling sorry for waking anyone but no one answered, just yelled or kept quiet. You started sobbing, knocking on the last door before you gave up. You slouched down to the right of the door as you hugged your knees. The beating, the yelling, the… assault, it all started flooding your mind again. You cried and cried until the door you sat underneath opened and you saw a tall, young man with messy hair stand above you. "Hey are you okay?" He asked noticing your stained cheeks as you sat at his door. "Please I need your help. Do you know where Holland lives? Holland Reeves? She lives in this apartment complex and I need help." You cried as he grabbed your forearms gently. "I-I'm sorry I don't know a Holland. You don't look okay, do you…" he paused and his eyes widened. "Are you… are you Y/N L/N?" He asked. You looked up into his eyes for the first time. They were so warm and welcoming. You softly nodded, confused on how he knew your name. "Hi um… my name is Spencer Reid. I work for the FBI and we… are actually working on your case. Oh my god… how did you escape?" He asked. "Wait... come in. Your freezing… I won't hurt you. I'll show you my credentials." He said pulling you into his warm apartment. You felt thousands of pounds lift off of your shoulders as he led you to his couch. "I promise I won't hurt you. Here look. I'm with the FBI." He said handing you the black leather pocketbook. You didn't need proof that he was a good man, and he was very cautious around you, making sure your comfortable and unalarmed. You nodded and handed it back to him. He set it on the side table and kneeled next to you. "Can I see your arm?" He asked holding his hand out. You lifted your arm and he took it in his hand before examining it. "Have you been punctured or injected with anything?" He asked gently setting your arm down. You shook your head and he looked at your other arm. His eyes trailed up to your face, where he observed your black eye and bloody face. "You poor thing." He whispered brushing hair out of your face, examining the open cut on your forehead. "Can you tell me what he did to you?" He asked sitting next to you. "He beat me, called me names like slut, bitch, starved me." You said, the memories coming back as you named them. "Did… did he sexually assault you?" He asked quietly. You looked into his eyes and bit your lip before nodding as tears rolled down your cheeks. "I'm sorry. No one deserves that." He said rubbing your back. You turned into his shoulder and started sobbing. He awkwardly hugged you, placing a hand on your head and one around your back, being careful to keep his hands high enough. "Do you want to take a warm shower? I can give you a change of clothes. They might be big but it's better than this." He said rubbing your bare shoulder that was only covered by a tank top strap. You nodded and smiled for the first time in days. "Okay follow me." He said standing up and waiting for you as you took your time to stand up due to the pain. He slowly walked you to his bathroom where he started the water. "Is this okay?" He said after letting the water run. You put your hand underneath it, de-thawing your cold hand. "Yes that's perfect." You said. "Ok good. I'm going to grab you a towel and clothes. I'll be right back." He said leaving before shortly returning. He set the items down on top of the toilet. "If you need me, I won't be far. Just call my name, I'll hear you." He said before closing the door. You slowly dropped your clothes to the floor before stepping inside the warm shower. Goosebumps raised on your skin as the warm water cascaded over your sore body. You saw the water tint pink as blood washed from your face. You washed your hair with coconut scented shampoo and washed your body with a somewhat manly soap that smelt super good. You turned off the water and got dried off fairly quickly, eager to sit down again. You put on the soft button up shirt and sweatpants that Spencer provided you. He was right, the clothes were huge, but so comfortable. You carefully opened the door and Spencer immediately came around the corner. "How are you feeling?" He asked inconspicuously observing you in his clothes. "Much better thank you so much. I would probably be dead if it weren't for you." You said with a small smile. "Of course. Do you like chicken noodle soup? I made some and I figured you were hungry." He said awkwardly standing in front of you. You nodded quickly and he led you to his couch again while he retrieved a bowl with steam pouring out of it. He sat next to you and spooned a little out before blowing on it. You were about to take the bowl from him but he shallowly pulled it away before looking into your eyes with sympathy before putting the spoon of warm soup in your mouth. "Mmm." You said as you swallowed the warm broth. He smiled and spooned out more, this time with noodles and chicken. "You know chicken noodle soup is the most recommended thing to eat when people are healing because it's packed with nutrients. You get protein from the chicken, carbohydrates from the noodles and lots of vitamins from the broth." He said before feeding more heavenly soup to you. You nodded, not knowing what to say after his little rant. "I know your capable of feeding yourself but I figured you were sore and preferred if I did instead." He said as he continued feeding you. "Thank you and sorry for waking you. You looked like I broke you from a peaceful sleep." You said recalling his messy hair. "What makes you say that?" He asked curiously. "Oh um… your hair I guess." You said as heat rose to your cheeks. "Oh heh my hair is always like that. Awake or asleep. I wasn't asleep so don't worry. You actually gave me something to do rather than reread a book." He said with a small smile. "What are you doing up so late?" You asked taking more notice of his apartment. The dark green walls, one filled with a bookcase. "It wasn't so late. It's only midnight now." He said looking at the clock. Midnight. It's a lot earlier than you thought. "Do you read a lot?" You asked pointing to his bookcase. "I do yes. I've read them all." He said as you took more soup on your mouth, almost spitting it out. "All of them?" "Well I have an eidetic memory and I can read 20,000 words per minute so it doesn't take me that long." He said with another beautiful smile. "Wow." You muttered under your breathe as you took the last bite of soup. "Are you still hungry? I can make you more." He said standing up. "No I'm full. Thank you though." You said hugging your knees as you sat on his couch. "Are you allergic to anything? Can I give you ibuprofen, if you want it." He said kindly. "Ibuprofen would be great." You said yawning. You trusted him and you knew he wouldn't give you any drugs or something weird like that. He brought you two little tablets and a tall glass of water. You took the pills and drank the full glass of water. "Is there anything else you need besides sleep?" He asked. "No but I need to thank you again. Thank you for saving my life and taking care of me. I don't know how I can ever repay you." You said standing up. "No need. It was my choice, not a favor. It was my pleasure keeping you here. Believe me it takes a lot of stress away knowing your alive." He said. You felt tears fill your eyes as you heard his sincere words. You lunged towards him and gave him a big hug. He had no clue what to do but eventually, he wrapped his arms around you as well. "Thank you so much." You said into his chest. "No problem. Um I can take the couch and you can have my bed." He said leading you to his bedroom. He turned on the light, revealing his big cozy bed that had at least 6 blankets on it. You slowly crawled on top of it and pulled the blankets from beneath you. "The heater breaks a lot so I have lots of blankets in case it gets cold." He said lifting them for you to get underneath. Once you did, he laid them on top of you and you swear you haven't felt anything softer. "I'll be in the living room if you need anything okay?" He said. You kept quiet, hesitating to ask for something. "You do need something. I'll get it for you, anything you need." He said reading your face like the pages he was reading earlier. "I'm okay. Thank you again." You said with a smile. He squinted his eyes at you. "Are you sure? Last call, just say the words." You looked at the lamp and then to the blankets that were covering your body. "You." You quietly said. "M-me?" He asked, reassuring that's what you said. "I don't want you to sleep on the couch." You said looking up at him with a smile. "Well… I don't know where else I would sleep. I'll take the floor if you want me in here." "I want you to sleep in bed next to me dummy." You said laughing. His face lit up with realization. "Oh… are you sure?" He asked. "Positive." He nodded and said "okay" before turning off the light and walking to the other side of the bed. You felt the bed dip next to you and you turned to face him. You both looked each other in the eyes in the dim moonlight. "Thank you again." You said with a smile. "No problem." He whispered. You turned back around, facing your back to him. A little later, you were almost asleep but you heard Spencer whisper something. "Hm?" You mumbled. "Can… can I hug you?" He quietly asked. You smiled and nodded before feeling his gentle arms wrap around you. Your back rested on his chest and you felt his hot breathe on the back of your neck as he traced circles on your wrists. You eventually fell asleep to his gentle touch and shallow breathes.

#spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid #one shot #criminal minds

[rudderless-in-an-ocean-of-stars]

of almond milk and extra mocha

In which a teenage Kara has a job working at the local coffee shop, Java Machine, and a certain green-eyed girl quickly becomes her favorite regular.

Basically SuperCorp Coffee Shop AU adorableness.

Find it on Ao3 here:

http://archiveofourown.org/works/11215203

The espresso machine sputters out a steady stream of pure caffeine under Kara’s watchful gaze even as the sound of the steam wand deafens her ears to almost everything else in the background.

Years of experience working with the aging, temperamental machine lets her time everything perfectly- the milk finishes steaming at the exact moment the drip of espresso comes to a halt, and she finishes the latte off with a drizzle of caramel atop the fluffy foam before slipping a lid on and cheerfully handing it to the waiting customer.

Careful not to touch anything other than the handle of the still-hot pitcher, she gingerly takes it over the sink for a quick rinse with cold water before washing it thoroughly, setting it back on the rack to dry, and heading back to clean the machine.

She takes her time with this, mainly because it’s past sunset, and the flow of customers has dropped off to the point where she doesn’t have to rush around at light speed. Aside from customer with the caramel latte, who’d long since left, the store is empty except for her.

A quick glance at the clock across the room as she heads back to perch on the stool behind the register tells her she’s got about ten minutes until her favorite customer pops in for her usual drink. It’s more than enough time for her to rest her aching feet before getting back up to prep Lena’s order so that it’s ready and waiting by the time she walks in.

The green-eyed girl orders the same thing every time- a hot chocolate made with almond milk and two pumps of mocha.

She comes here regularly enough to have purchased a for-here mug that she leaves at the shop for her daily visits. Kara keeps it on a mostly empty shelf so that it’s never disturbed or in danger of being knocked to the ground by even the clumsiest of her co-workers.

At three minutes to six, Kara spoons cocoa powder into the bottom of the mug as she fills a pitcher with almond milk and sets it to steam. Afterwards, she strains the foam with a spoon and she pours hot milk into the cup, stirring in mocha syrup to finish it off.

The clock strikes six mere seconds before the bell above the door chimes, signaling Lena’s entrance just as Kara makes her way back to the register, hot chocolate in hand.

The transaction is, as always ever since the baristas got used to the girl and her order, a silent one. Kara slides the mug over the counter as Lena hands her a shiny credit card with a soft, grateful smile. She never wants a receipt.

Lena takes her usual seat in the back, in a booth tucked away from the windows and most of the light. It’s not a seat that people usually sit in unless there aren’t any more seats to be taken, but Lena favors it.

It’s been two years of this, and yet Lena remains as much a stranger to the workers as any of the one-time tourists stopping over in the town on their bus route to some other, bigger city.

The only thing Kara knows for sure about the girl is what she’s managed to glean off of her appearance and her credit card. A quick glance at the bottom of the card revealed her name- Lena Luthor- and the uniform she occasionally wore during the school year was from the uptown prep school that only the wealthiest from the other side of town could afford.

The rest of Midvale wasn’t poor, not by any standards. Downtown Midvale was a quiet, pleasant place to live, with a bustling population and some of the best public schools in the state. But the other side of town was another story altogether, filled with mansions spaced far apart from each other, stables, fancy restaurants, and a country club to boot.

It was obvious from the shiny, black credit card that had much more heft than the regular flimsy squares of plastic that Kara’s usually handed and Lena’s always-immaculate appearance that the girl comes from money- and lots of it.

Other than that, Kara can count the number of things she knew about Lena on one hand.

She likes mocha syrup in her hot chocolate and prefers almond milk over regular. She wears her hair up whenever she’s in uniform and only leaves it down if she’s dressed casually. And she never, ever wears makeup.

Not that she needs it, though.

Lena Luthor has the kind of porcelain complexion that most people spend hundreds of dollars trying to achieve and sparkling eyes that glow a rich, pure green. Her features were the kind you’d expect to see gracing magazine covers- sculpted cheekbones and a jawline that looked like it was cut from marble.

Kara’s been caught by various coworkers gaping at Lena’s stunningly attractive expression whenever she was focused on something- perfect brow creased and bottom lip caught between her teeth. It had been the source of repeated bouts of teasing from everyone to the old woman who only worked Sunday afternoons just because she ‘wanted to see the young people’ to her typically no-nonsense boss, Cat Grant.

The bell above the door chimes again, signaling the arrival of a new customer and pulling Kara out of her usual, Lena-induced trance.

It’s a boy who looks like he belongs in the same tax bracket as Lena- dressed in a polo shirt, designer jeans, and doused in some expensive, painfully strong cologne.

Unfortunately for Kara, she recognizes him.

It’s Maxwell Lord, whose father owns the country club and the stables- the latter of which Alex used to hold a job at. Used to, because she’d been forced to quit after enduring repeated, unwanted advances from the jerkwad now currently stinking up her coffee shop.

The scowl that pulls down the corners of Kara’s mouth is a furious one.

An oil-slick grin splits his lips as he approaches Lena’s corner booth.

“Hey there, Luthor. I thought I saw you duck in here.”

Lena peers up from the pages of her book with a faint mixture of dismay and disdain flickering in her eyes.

Kara resists the urge to leap over the counter and smash him over the head with the freshly washed pitcher in her hands.

Alex had come home in tears on more than one occasion after a run-in with the Lord boy during her shifts at the stables. Even her devotion to the horses hadn’t been enough incentive for her to continue working under Maxwell’s leery gaze.

“Maxwell,” she says, voice laced with a soft accent that Kara’s come to love hearing on the rare occasions when she does speak, “What a surprise.”

The way she lingers on the last word betrays how she feels about this encounter. Kara almost laughs.

“Come on, Luthor, don’t be like that.” He laughs, running his fingers through his hair in a way that suggests he thinks the move is highly attractive.

It really isn’t.

The smile Lena levels at him is downright icy. “Don’t be like what, Maxwell?” Her voice is measuredly polite, with as much of a challenging edge as the rules of propriety would allow.

Kara slips out from behind the counter to intervene before things can escalate even further.

As much as she’d love to see Lena tear Maxwell down a few pegs, she really doesn’t want to have to clean up the mess that a thrown cup of hot chocolate would make, and judging by the way the other girl’s grip on her mug has tightened, that moment isn’t too far off.

“If you aren’t going to make a purchase,” she says, forcing herself to sound professional through gritted teeth, “I’m afraid that I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

Recognition spreads across his features at the sight of her.

His self-assured smirk returns in full force, and Kara mentally gags.

“Little Danvers. How’s your sister? Still a frigid bitch?”

Every molecule of her body is now nearly vibrating with the force of her rage.

Kara can’t help it-

She snarls, teeth bared in a feral grimace as her fingers curl into fists at her sides.

“Get. Out.”

There’s a building pressure behind her eyes, one she struggles to control.

Turning Maxwell Lord into a pile of ashes on the spot was becoming a more and more tempting course of action by the second.

It would be so easy to incinerate him, sweep up the remains with a dustpan, and dump them in the garbage where he belonged.

So easy.

But still- this is Earth, and Kara couldn’t just go around using her powers on people, no matter how much they deserved to be obliterated into little more than dust.

She clamps her eyes shut before they can burn red with the force of her heat vision.

“Leave, Max. Before I call the police.” It’s a valid threat, and they both know it. The chief of police has a soft spot for the Danvers sisters, and has hated Maxwell Lord with a passion since he learned of how he’d harassed Alex.

Chief J’onzz might be Kara’s only contender in terms of the depth of their grudges against him.

He complies, slinking off towards the door, grumbling under his breath the entire time.

She doesn’t open her eyes until she’s sure that he’s gone.

“Thanks for the assist.”

Kara spins around just in time to catch sight of the wry smile that tilts the corners of Lena’s mouth upwards.

She grins back.

“Not a problem.” She nods down toward the mug on the table between them. “I just really didn’t want to have to pull out the mop if you threw it at him.”

“Am I that easy to read?” A spark of mischief makes her eyes gleam even brighter, if possible.

Kara fidgets under her curious gaze. “It’s what I would have done.”

“I like the way you think.” She sets her book down and holds out a slender hand. “Lena Luthor.”

Kara takes it without hesitation. Their joined hands fit together perfectly, and she finds that Lena’s skin is soft and pleasantly warm to the touch. She doesn’t think she ever wants to let go.

“Kara Danvers.”

Lena’s fingers tighten around hers, and the Kryptonian’s heart stutters to a stop in her chest.

“I know we’ve seen each other pretty regularly for the past couple of years, but, uh…” A rosy flush begins to spread across her cheeks, and Kara commits the sight of it to memory almost immediately. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Kara.”

Something warm begins to blossom in the achingly empty spaces between her bones, melting the ice that Kara thought she’d never find herself without after her time in the hollow, bitterly cold void of the Phantom Zone.

She smiles.

“Likewise.”

Like it? Love it? Let me know! :)

#SuperCorp #fanfiction #Lena Luthor #Kara Danvers #Supergirl #SuperGAY #CW

[book-boys-are-my-guilty-pleasure]

For: @hermionetriskatniss

Imagine: Being a leader alongside Eric. The two of you constantly get into arguments so one of your friends handcuff you two together.  

A/N: Eric’s back! I have other parts that connect to this imagine: Part 1  Part 2 and Part 3 but you also read it as a standalone imagine if you’d like! :) 

“Can you go at least one minute without being a complete ass?!” You groaned, running your hands through your hair as your co-leader, Eric, started up yet another argument with you. God, I can’t stand this asshole.

“Can you go a minute without being a bitch?” He retorted, gripping on to your upper arm. This had become a daily routine for you; you would get to the office, one of you would start up an argument about some trivial matter, and then the argument would turn into a shouting match that would end in both of you forgetting what you were even arguing about in the first place.

“You two argue like an old married couple,” Victoria, one of your other co-leaders and your best friend, jokes, earning a glare from the two of you.

“Shut up Vic,” You mutter.

“You know Vic, anger these two for long enough and you can get anything by them,” You attempt to turn towards your other fellow leader, Jared, to see what he was talking about, but a cold force around your wrist stops you. You look down and find yourself handcuffed to Eric.

“JARED!” The two of you shout in unison as Jared and Victoria laugh.

“Listen here Jared, you better open this shit right now, or I’ll-” He attempts to step forward threateningly, but he ends up causing you to stumble towards him.

“Eric!” You cry, sticking your hands out in front of you, to prevent yourself from falling on top of him.

“Sorry Eric, you’re not getting this key until tomorrow morning.”

“I hope you know that I will kill you.”

“You can’t kill me in those handcuffs unless you and Y/N decide to work together, and by the time you’re uncuffed, I’ll be in Amity,” Jared smirks, before leaving the room with the keys.

“Well, this day just went to shit,” You mutter under your breath.

“Well, I have to supervise initiate training, so I guess you’re gonna be lucky enough to spend a day in the life of Eric,” He deadpans.

“Excuse you, why should we spend the day in your life, what about mine?”

“Mine is clearly more important,” You roll your eyes, “Besides I’m your senior.”

You groan as he drags you towards the training room.

“You’re doing it wrong Stiff,” Eric forcefully moves his left arm to correct the initiate, causing you to stumble forward as well.

As he finishes, you face him, “Aren’t you right-handed?”

“I am.”

“So you’re using your left hand just to annoy me aren’t you?” You raise your eyebrows questioningly.

“I’m chained to you, might as well get some good out of my situation.”

“Fuck you.”

The rest of the day goes on and Eric continues on having his fun, he was pushing all your buttons and getting on every last nerve.

Eventually dinner came around and things became even more difficult than they already were, you were right-handed, however, your right hand was chained to Eric’s left, and he was not making it any easier for you, “Eric, please can you be a bit reasonable?! I can’t eat with my left hand.”

“That’s not my problem muffin,” He responded coolly before putting a spoonful of food in his mouth.

“If you could just relax your hand for a second, maybe it wouldn’t be so damn heavy!” You groan, he shrugs, and the other leaders just watch with amusement.

“Just use your left hand.”

You groan once again, and fill your spoon with food. Just as you bring the spoon to your mouth, Eric jerks his hand and startles you, causing you to spill the food on yourself. You slap your spoon back on the table, causing a few heads to turn, “Why the fuck do you have to be so damn difficult Eric?!”

“What do you expect Y/N?! If you want me to feed you then tough luck honey.”

“I’m so fucking done with you,” You say exasperatedly, “Fuck you.”

You finally get the hand of using your left hand to eat without it shaking too bad.

Eventually, you both decided to get up and head towards the apartments, “We’re sleeping in my apartment tonight.”

“Fine,” You say, tired.

“Fine?” He raises his eyebrow, “That was easy.”

The two of you head into his apartment, and manage to get ready for bed, not without difficulty, mostly because of Eric’s stubbornness. You two get into Eric’s bed, and he lies down on his side, causing you to feel insanely uncomfortable, “Eric, we are both chained to each other, can we please come to a compromise?”

“Don’t forget that we’re in my bed,” You shoot up at his response, causing him to groan.

“Why are you such an ass Eric? This is an honest question. Wha-what did I ever do to you to make you hate me so much? Why do you enjoy making my life a living hell,” You take a shaking breath to prevent yourself from either breaking something or bursting into tears, “I know I was a good initiate during my training, an-and I know I might have been a bit rude during my leadership training but so were you. It’s not my fault that I got handcuffed to you, but you’re acting as if I caused the world to end.”

“I-I didn’t know you felt that way,” He sighs, “I’m sorry okay, it’s just easier than admitting how I fe-”

“How you what?”

“You know what, forget it, forget I said anything. Forget this whole day ever happened, it might be too late for it, but let’s just start again,” He stick his arm cuffed arm out and gestures for you to rest you hand on it (refer to the 3rd gif at the beginning of this imagine, cause I’m bad at explaining), “The best compromise for both of us to sleep comfortably is if we…”

“If we cuddle?” You smirk.

“I wouldn’t call it cuddling,” He says, your back is towards him, but you can sense him rolling his eyes, “I’d call it ‘professionally holding my co-worker for comfort’.”

You laugh, “Goodnight Eric.”

“Goodnight.”

End.

Masterlist // Rules List // To-Do List

#eric #eric imagine #eric x reader #eric coulter #eric coulter x reader #eric coulter imagine #eric divergent #eric divergent imagine #eric insurgent #eric insurgent imagine #divergent #divergent imagine #insurgent #insurgent imagine #dauntless #request