#'are you sure you want to move back with your parents ARE YOU SURE IS THERE NO OTHER OPTION' 😭 everyone knows the damage parents can have

[minswriting]

NSFW | MDNI

for all my girlies that need to fuck spencer reid RAW

warnings: nsfw, mdni, lack of birth control, breeding kink, unprotected sex, desperate sex, please make sure you guys use protection/contraceptives when engaging in sexual conduct. jesus reid vibes

spencer’s eyes were wide with his mouth formed in an “o” as he looked up at you with flushed cheeks. you were bouncing on his cock for the first time without protection and god, you were fucking soaking wet. “i-“ spencer cut himself off, moaning loudly as your hips landed back down on his lap. “fuck you feel so good,” he whimpered, licking his lips.

you moaned in response, relishing in the feeling of him inside you, raw. it was heavenly, to say the least. you had always used condoms before this, making sure to practice safe sex. but today? today was just…different. maybe it was the fact that spencer’s hair just fell perfectly around his face. or the fact that he looked so good walking with his cane after being shot awhile back. or maybe you were just ovulating. regardless, you needed his cock inside of you and you needed it raw. the risk of pregnancy was entirely worth it.

spencer wrapped his arms around you, bringing you closer to him and burying his face in your chest. you moaned as you continued moving your hips, the slight adjustment of the angle making his cock hit your g-spot directly. “o-oh,” you said, clenching your walls around his cock. “feels so good, spence.”

“yeah, baby?” he murmured against your skin, pressing kisses along your chest. spencer moved his mouth onto your breast, his tongue circling your nipple. “wanted to fuck me raw?” his voice was heavy, scratchy, and breathless at the same time. he let out a whine when you began to grind your hips, feeling himself getting close. “want me to spill inside you, make you pregnant?”

you let out a whiny “yes!” as you ground your hips against his, riding his cock like your life depended on it. “i-“ you cut out self off, throwing your head back in pleasure. “i’m so close, spence.”

“me too, baby, me too.” he groaned.

spencer began thrusting his hips upward, meeting your hips with his. the added pleasure caused both of you to moan loudly and desperately. you both were oh-so-close. were either of you ready to become parents? probably not. you both were only in your 20s still. but in that moment, you hardly cared. you’d gladly have spencer’s babies if it meant getting filled by him continuously.

and after a few more thrusts, spencer’s let out a choked moan as his hips stuttered. his eyes rolled to the back of his head while he came inside of you, filling you up with his seed for the first time ever. and as you felt him releasing inside of you, you came very hard on his cock, letting out a loud “spencer!”

when you were both finished, you both stayed still, breathing heavily with his cock still inside of you. after a few minutes, spencer pulled you closer, burying his face in your neck while pulling his cock out of you, his cum leaking out onto his legs. “fuck,” he whispered, pulling back to look at you with a smile.

you smiled back, brushing spencer’s hair out of his face. “we’re definitely doing that again.”

“oh for sure.”

it was a wonder how you didn’t end up pregnant right away. but after that, spencer fell in love with the idea of filling you up. the risk that you could end up pregnant turned him on so very much. plus the fact that he’s always wanted to be a father and having you be the mother of his children would be beyond a blessing.

[killiaia]

SEXTAPE

Last fic of 2024.

Merry Christmas everyone.

Rosé x male reader.

"Thanks, man."

You thank the cashier and exit the store. You take out your phone and notice again that you have zero messages. You've been back from your mission for several weeks but you still have zero replies from Rosé.

But when you open your social networks, you see her everywhere. You see her and Bruno Mars. Literally, they're everywhere. Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, Tiktok. Any application, they're there.

And it hurts. It hurts to see your girlfriend with someone else. It hurts to have no messages. It hurts not to hear from her, you don't even know if you're in the same country.

And tonight, you decided to clear your head. You got on your motorcycle and set off. Where? You don't know, you don't care. You just needed to get away.

Here you are, in a gas station deep in the Korean countryside. It's now 3:43 a.m. and you're drinking a can of Coke.

You're about to leave when you feel your phone vibrate.

Jennie is calling. You pick up and find yourself face to face with her.

"Hey.." says a sleepy Jennie.

"Hi, gorgeous. You're not asleep? "

"No, I'm not. You weren't answering messages, we were worried with the girls. "

"Oh. I'm sure Lisa, Jisoo and you did. Rosé, not sure. "

"Sweetie.." goes Jennie.

"I don't even know if we're on the same continent. I know I'm in no position to say this with my profession but... it hurts. "

"I know it does. But sweetie, where are you right now? "

"I don't know." You answer honestly.

You look around for a sign. After a few seconds of searching, you find one.

"I'm not far from Gimhae."

"Sweetie! "Jennie says in shock. "You're not far from Busan! "

"Oh." You reply in turn. "I guess I needed to clear my head. "

"I'll call Rosé. You need her. "

"I need all of you. I need her, you, Lisa and Jisoo. "You answer sincerely. "I don't know, I'm lost, I guess. "

"I'm calling Rosé. Don't move, sweetie

"

You want to tell her no but you don't have time Jennie has already left.

You sigh and finish your can, which you throw away. You wait several minutes and decide to get back on your bike.

You're about to turn on the ignition but once again your phone vibrates. You click on accept and Rosé's face appears.

It's daylight where she is. She looks beautiful and happy. You want to say something, but Bruno Mars' voice cuts you off.

"Come on, Rosé! We're having so much fun, you'll see your boyfriend later! "

It's the final straw for you. You notice Rosé's panicked look on the camera just before you cut the call.

You put your phone away and get back on your bike. You turn on the ignition and take off. You have no direction in mind. You just know you have to go.

With each vibration of your phone, you accelerate. You zigzag between cars, you run a red light, you overtake another car, you run a stop sign and you haven't seen the car.

----

"Everything's going to be okay. "Rosé's mother says softly.

Rosé cries in her mother's arms. His father strokes his hair, but Rosé is devastated.

Ever since your accident, Rosé has been a shadow of her former self.

Following your accident, Rose cancelled all promotions with Bruno Mars.

When you hung up, Rosé tried to call you several times, but when you didn't answer, she called Jennie. Jennie tried to call you but you didn't answer - it was only several hours later that Jennie received a call telling you of your accident.

Jennie called Rosé in tears and booked a private jet to Busan. You were taken to a Busan hospital, the best one because Jennie paid for it.

"If he dies, I'll never forgive you. "Jennie told Rosé.

Rosé enters your hospital room and collapses. Seeing you so vulnerable makes her legs buckle. Your right leg is in plaster and so is your right arm. Your head is covered in bandages, as is your torso.

"He's asleep. "says a voice from behind Rosé and her parents.

They all turn around and come face to face with your father. Rosé runs to him and takes him in her arms.

"I'm so sorry.

"It's not your fault, Chaeyoung. He made his own choices and these are his consequences... "Your father replies softly.

Rosé's parents come forward.

"Hello. I'm sorry we have to meet like this..."

"Nice to meet you, I'm Y/N's father. "

Your father and Rosé's parents leave the room. Rosé walks over to your bed and gently grabs your hand. Your hand is cold and Rosé tries to warm it.

Gently, Rosé places a kiss on your forehead. You let out a groan of pain and Rose apologizes.

"I'm sorry, my love." Rose panics.

She grabs a chair and sits down beside you.

"Ah. There you are. "says a voice from behind Rosé.

Rosé turns and looks at Jennie. She didn't hear her come in. Rosé watches Jennie settle in across from her. Jennie takes her hand and Rosé gives her a questioning look.

"What?" asks Jennie. "You've got nothing to say. "

"Really? Are we really going to have this discussion now? "

"You don't deserve him. He loves you." Jennie lets go.

"I love him more than anything! " says Rosé.

"You respond to the one you love. You don't leave him unanswered for weeks." says Jennie.

"Come to the point, Jennie. "

"I don't think this relationship is right for either of you. You two should break up. "

"Are you serious? We break up and just like that, you get him back, right? "

"He'd be better off with me. "

"Go fuck yourself. Don't even go near him. " threatens Rosé.

"What are you going to do about it? You're never around. You shoot clips with other guys talking about your exes."

"What's going on here?" says a voice behind them.

Lisa enters the room. Rosé and Jennie look at each other, ignoring the Thai woman.

"Get out, both of you. "Lisa says.

Jennie's words stick in Rosé's head. Rosé waits for Jennie to leave and leaves the room. The Australian joins your father.

"Is something going on with Jennie? "

"She's in love with Y/N. "

"Oh." says your father.

"I love your son. I love him more than anything. Believe me, if I weren't an idol, I'd already have your last name. "

"I'd love to have you in the family. ", replies your father.

"I know with everything going on, my music, Bruno Mars.... But I swear I love your son. It's business, nothing ever happened. "

"Chaeyoung. I trust you 100%. My son didn't give you time to explain and he's going to have to face the consequences, but I know you'll support him. "

"I'll take care of Jennie. ", Rosé replies. "Lisa's talking to her. "

"If someone had told me my son would have two idols fighting over him. "Laughs your father.

Rosé laughs.

"I've contacted his team. He won't be able to accept assignments for a while. "

"Good. I don't know if he told you, but a few months ago he came back injured. "Rosé confesses it to your father.

Your father sighs. 'You've never talked much about your work with your father. You know he supports you, but you don't want to worry him.

"I guess he doesn't want me to worry. But not hearing from him worries me. "

Rosé rests her head against your father's shoulder.

"We're going to help him. "

Your father places a kiss on the top of Rosé's head.

"I'm so happy to have you in the family. "

----

* A few months later. *

"You're fit to go on another mission. "

You thank the medical officer and feel Rosé's grip tighten. With your thumb, you caress her hand in a gesture of comfort. You leave the military hospital. Rosé hasn't said a word.

"I'm not leaving just yet baby. "You say to Rosé.

"Not now, but who knows. In a few days, you could be called up. "

"Rosé..." you sigh. "I'm still you and Blackpink's bodyguard. "

"Stay away from Jennie. " Rosé says seriously.

"You're going to have to fix the problem you have with Jennie. I'm serious, baby. I'm not going to leave you for her. "

You get into Rosé's car and notice that Rosé is upset.

"I'm not going to be able to avoid her. You're in the same group, I'm going to do my job and that's it. "

"I swear, if she tries anything. " warns Rosé.

"She already has. "You say nonchalantly.

Rosé slams on the brake and thank goodness you're strapped in. You'd have ended up in the windshield.

"WHAT?"

"She was drunk. It was at one of your galas. You were already asleep. I went downstairs to get Jennie and Lisa. Jennie was completely drunk, Lisa could hardly contain her and you know Jennie. When she's drunk she's extremely horny. "

"What did she do? "asks Rosé.

You notice Rosé's red skin, a sign that she's upset.

"Fact, nothing. It was more in her words. She was in "Oh, I'm sure I suck better than Rosé" mode.

"That bitch. "Said Rosé, slapping her steering wheel.

"I defended you. " You reply.

"What did you say? "

"I told her that the way you sucked my cock was the best thing in the world and that I couldn't stop cumming in your mouth. "

Rosé is shocked by your answer. You notice her clenching her thighs.

"But she went on. She said her pussy was tighter than yours. Of course I defended you, said your pussy was made for my cock. "

Rosé lets out a little "Oh".

"Continue. "says Rosé in a small voice.

"And of course Jennie talked about anal. But my answer shut her up. "

"And what was your answer. "

"I told her that while she was doing her solo during your concert in Australia, you were bent over with my cock in your ass and Lisa was watching you get your ass taken."

"Fuck.." mutters Rosé.

"I had to defend my girlfriend. " You reply nonchalantly. "So you don't have to worry my love. I much prefer your pussy and your ass."

"Baby.." whines Rosé.

"And speaking of which, drive us to your place. I want to fuck you. "

Rosé nods slowly and turns on the ignition. You laugh softly.

----

"Fuuuck Rosé. "

You're just a toy to her. You're completely at Rosé's mercy. The Australian engulfs your cock in her mouth and you're forced to moan.

"I love your fucking mouth so much. "

As Rosé responds, she sucks you faster. You help her with your hand. You grab her ponytail and force her to take your whole cock in your mouth.

Ever since you told her the story about Jennie, Rosé hasn't missed a chance to suck or fuck you.

And here you are, sitting on your sofa with this goddess kneeling between your legs.

"You look so beautiful with my cock in your mouth. I should take a picture of you. "

"Do it." replies Rosé seriously. "That way when Jennie asks you you can show her the picture. "

You don't waste any time. You pick up your phone and plant it in front of Rosé.

Rosé takes your cock out of her mouth and starts licking it. She stops and poses, sticking her tongue to your cock. You press the button and there you are with a beautiful photo of Rosé with your cock.

"Film. We're going to film. "Rosé replies seriously.

Although surprised, you accept her request. You switch to video mode and concentrate on Rose like a porn director.

"Look at that pretty girl with my dick in her mouth. You suck me so well. "

"That's because I'm your good girl. "

"You are. " You reply, shoving your cock into her mouth.

"Take a look. She sucks me so good. Are you addicted to my cock? "

Rosé nods. She's far too busy sucking your dick to answer.

"I'm still thinking about where I'm going to cum. In your mouth or on your face? "

"My mouth. "Rosé replies seriously. "Good girls don't waste. "

"You're right. You're going to drink all my cum. "

Rosé nods and continues her oral assault on your cock. With her hands, she jerks you off and accentuates with tongue strokes on your tip.

You continue filming.

"Would you like us to show Jennie how well you take care of my cock? "

"Hey Jennie. "Makes Rosé look at the phone lens. "Watch how well I take care of my boyfriend's dick. I suck it so well, look. "

To accentuate her words, Rosé engulfs your cock again and bops her head, causing you to moan.

"Fuck, you're so good with your mouth Rose. Jennie look how good she is. Look how good my good girl is at sucking my cock."

Excited by your words. Rosé starts to slide her hand under her skirt and thong.

"Oh but actually she's a bad girl. Look, she's starting to touch herself, this naughty girl. “

Rosé takes off her thong and starts touching her pussy. By the sound alone, you can hear how wet she is. Rosé continues to suck you.

"I'm going to cum soon, Rosé. "You tell her.

"Into my mouth. "

Rosé steps back and you stand up. You start stroking your cock.

"Paint me. Cum in my mouth, I'll show her how much I love your cum. "

You speed up the movement around your cock and feel yourself coming quickly. You position your cock over Rosé's wide-open mouth.

After several quick strokes back and forth, you cum. You empty yourself into Rosé's mouth. Several jets of cum land in the singer's mouth. Mouth wide open and full of cum, you approach the camera.

"Swallow. "You order Rosé.

Rosé listens and swallows in one gulp. She opens her mouth again and shows you that she's swallowed it all.

"What a good girl to listen to Daddy. "You say to Rosé and the camera. "Lie down on the sofa and spread your legs, I'm going to eat your pussy."

Rosé listens and complies. The singer removes her skirt and spreads her legs, presenting you with her pussy.

You get down on your knees and put the phone in front of her pussy. With your free hand, you spread the folds of her pussy.

"Look at that beautiful pussy. Just for me. "

You pass the camera to Rosé as you begin to lick her.

"Oh my God. "says Rosé, pointing her head at the camera. "Daddy licks me so good. "

Rosé presses the screen and films you eating her pussy.

"Fuuuck. Look at him eating my pussy. Do you like eating my pussy?" Rosé asks you

"I love it so much. Your pussy tastes divine. It's almost intoxicating. "

To accentuate your words, you catch her clit between your lips and suck it, drawing her into your mouth.

"Daddy, finger me. "

You listen to Rose, still concentrating on her clit, you tuck a finger into her pussy. The double pressure drives Rosé crazy.

"You show Jennie how I eat your pussy?"

"Fuuuck yes. I might even show Lisa and Jisoo. "

"In that case, I need to concentrate. "

With your gaze fixed on the lens, you suck Rosé's clit again and insert a second finger into her pussy, causing Rosé to howl with pleasure.

Rosé tries to film anyway, despite the pleasure she's feeling.

"You...will...have...to...send...me...the...video..." articulates Rosé between each moan.

You nod, still concentrating on giving her pleasure. You lick her pussy, start by licking her hole and work your way up to her clit.

"The girls are going to be jealous to see how you're eating my pussy."

You put a finger back in her pussy and suck on her clit again and Rose starts undulating her pelvis against your mouth.

"That's it. You're going to sit on my face. "

You stand up and Rose looks at you. You help her up. You take the opportunity to kiss her and Rosé continues filming.

"A little kiss for the camera? "asks Rosé.

You grab her and kiss her full on the lips. You take the opportunity to finger her pussy and Rosé moans into your mouth.

"Her pussy is so wet. Listen to her. "

You insert a second finger and finger Rosé. The sound her pussy makes is so beautiful. It's so wet. You continue your assault on her little pussy and Rosé almost falls over as she moans so loudly.

You cut short the pleasure and bring your juicy fingers from Rosé's pussy to the singer's mouth. Rosé hastens to lick your soaked fingers.

"What a good girl. She sucks my juicy fingers. Does your pussy taste good? " You ask Rosé and the camera.

Rosé nods, continuing to lick your fingers. Her gaze is so sexy, so provocative.

You tap her on the ass and Rosé flinches with excitement. You give Rosé your phone back and lie down on the sofa. Rosé climbs on. Her pussy over your face, you grab her ass and let Rosé fall on your face. The shock is almost violent, but it's not serious.

For your part, you lick the young woman greedily. Her pussy is an aphrodisiac today, you can't do without it. Rosé grabs your hair and starts straddling your face. Phone still in hand, Rosé films herself straddling you.

"Watch how he eats my pussy."

Rosé lovingly strokes your hair.

"You see, Jennie, Oppa's too busy licking my pussy."

You could almost laugh at Rosé's jealousy. Playfully, you grab her ass and press her pussy against your mouth.

"Fucking look, I love it so much. "

With your tongue, you lick everything possible. Her lips, her hole, her clit.

"I love it so much when you eat my pussy. I'm going to cum so hard in your mouth. "

With your hands you spread her buttocks and titillate her asshole.

"Oh fuck. Take care of my holes. "

You put pressure on her holes and Rose is nothing but a mess. Still filming you, the young woman straddles your face. She picks up the pace and you can feel that Rosé is not far from cumming. You decide to go faster with your tongue and without warning, you feel Rosé's pussy contract against your tongue. You receive her full juices in your mouth.

Rosé lets out an almost bestial sound and the young woman nearly smothers you with her thighs.

Realizing this, Rosé pushes herself off your face and lies on your chest. And of course, as a global star, Rosé doesn't forget the camera.

"I came so hard with Oppa's mouth. "

You laugh and stroke her hair. Rosé turns her face to you and smiles.

"Ready? " you ask.

"Always ready. " Rosé replies.

"In that case, give me the phone and get down on all fours. "

Rosé listens, hands you the phone and moves into position. You get up and stand behind the singer. Like a porn director, you zoom in on her buttocks and pussy.

You slap her ass and Rose moans. She glances over her shoulder at you and you fuck her pussy. With your hand, you spread her ass.

"Look at that beautiful pussy."

You zoom in with the camera and Rosé waddles her ass. You stand up and position your cock in front of her entrance. Rosé's pussy is so wet that you enter easily. The movement elicits a groan from both of you.

"I'm sliding so fucking good in your pussy. You're so wet I didn't even have to strain. "

With the phone you film the movements of your cock in her vagina.

It's worthy of the greatest porn movies. You never thought you'd do it, but here you are. Filming yourself taking one of kpop's biggest stars doggy-style at her request.

"Fuck. I could never do without your pussy. It was made for me. "

Rosé moans. The young woman literally fucks herself on your cock, head against the couch, mouth open, Rosé just a toy at this point.

"Look, she loves it when I do this. "

With your free hand you slap her ass. Rosé screams with pleasure.

"I told you. She loves it when I slap her ass."

You slap her ass again.

"It helps her come. " You say to the camera.

Rosé says nothing, the young woman continues to move her pelvis. You can hear the sound of flesh against flesh. You're lucky you don't have neighbors.

"She's about to come. I feel the walls of her pussy tighten around my cock. "

Rosé nods and increases the pace. You decide to do the same. You pick up the pace and with your free hand you grab one of her buttocks. Your balls hit her ass and your loins propel Rosé limitlessly against the wall behind the sofa.

"Harder! Make me come and come inside me. "

Who are you not to listen to this goddess. You grab her hip with your good hand and place the camera next to her on the table. The angle is perfect. With both hands, you grab her hips and start plundering Rosé's pussy.

"Yes...YES!"

Almost animalistically, you climb onto the sofa, giving yourself a new angle of penetration. With this new angle, you accentuate the pleasure of both of you.

In this position, you totally dominate Rosé. Rosé can do nothing but receive your cock strokes.

But that's what the singer wants, so you speed up your movements.

It's beastly. You're just trying to make her come. And after several strokes, you come together.

The combination of your orgasms is powerful. You feel your legs buckle and you quickly catch yourself before you fall. You've come so much that you feel your cock being expelled from her pussy.

You catch your breath and see Rosé breathless, lying back on the sofa. You also see your cum coming out of her pussy. 

You stand up, grab the phone and point to Rosé's cunt filled with your cum.

"And that's the end. "You say to the camera. "

Rosé is so full that it's spilling out of her pussy. 

With your hand you spread the folds of her pussy and watch your cum fall onto the sofa. 

You put the camera up to Rosé's face and ask. 

"Any last words Rosie? "

Rosé looks at the camera and says to Jennie.

"You'll never have him and his cock belongs to me. "

You laugh and pat her on the ass.

[helen-with-an-a]

 Operation Christmas Kiss

Barça Femeni x Reader ; Keira Walsh x Reader

Description: The team come up with a plan to get Keira and R to confess before Christmas

Word Count: 3k

“So, what’s everyone doing for Christmas?” Alexia asked, taking a sip from her drink.

You sat back, watching the others as they told you their Christmas plans. Naturally, your eyes lingered on Keira. Keira … the girl you had been in love with for well over half your life.

You couldn’t help but smile as she laughed at something Aitana had said, her eyes sparkling. You sighed despite yourself. Keira … the girl had been your first kiss all those years ago. ‘Practice … for when we’re older’ you had said. It had been the Christmas camp for the Young Lionesses, and everyone was swapping stories of their first kisses, first loves, first times. You were barely sixteen, but the peer pressure had been a lot. You had made up some bullshit about a girl at school. You had confessed the truth to Keira that night. She had just smiled at you and offered to kiss you. Simple and just like that. Nothing too fancy, nothing crazy, just a friendly gesture. You ignored the butterflies then and you had continued to ignore them. Every brush of her hand against your skin when you partner up, every lingering hug or gentle touch as you moved around your small flat in perfect harmony.

“What about you, chica?” Patri asked, nudging you back to the table.

“Oh um, nothing really.” You smiled, taking a bite from the snacks on the table.

“Nothing?” Mapí repeated.

“Yeah, I’m not doing anything. My parents are-”

You started to explain how you didn’t do anything special at Christmas. You never had. You parents had been forced to go to Church and do all the family stuff when they were growing up and they had hated every minute of it. When they finally branched out on their own, Christmas was just a normal day. Sure, you always had a few presents and a nicer meal, but it was never the spectacle that it was for everyone else. Your parents had agreed to fly over to Barcelona this Christmas, arguing that it was about time they had a hot holiday. The best flights they could get was Christmas Day, and that suited you just fine. They would land around midday, and you would spend a few days with them, relishing in the quiet as the rest of the world gorged themselves on overpriced, dry meat they had spent far too long slaving away over in the kitchen. And then your parents would be off again, arguing that they didn’t want to ruin your New Years’ plans and that they would much rather be lounging on a pool bed in Tenerife rather than you cramped flat anyways.

“Do you not want to spend Christmas with them?” Pina asked quietly, her voice a little nervous.

“No, it’s not like th-” You could see the looks people were sharing. The sad pitying looks that meant they thought you didn’t spend Christmas with your family for a very different reason.

“It’s okay, amiga. We understand,” Marta smiled kindly.

“It’s not-” you tried again. You loved your parents, and they loved you. You had no issue with them, and as far as you were aware, they had no issues with you. You knew some others around the table had had issues with their parents, especially when they were teens and trying to figure out their sexuality. But for you, it was never like that. You had never actually ‘come out’ to your parents. You had just brought a girl home when you first moved to Manchester and introduced them to your new girlfriend. No one had batted an eye.

“Vamos, chica, I need el baño and then we shall get another drink, sí?” Ona asked, standing up from her seat, extending her hand to you.

“Uhh, sure … ok…” You let yourself get dragged away by Ona, unable to catch Keira’s eye.

“Ok, we need to do something for la niña. She cannot spend Christmas alone.” Mapí started, her eyes narrowing as she came up with her plan.

“Maybe she doesn’t want to do anything for Christmas, kjære?”

“That is absoluta mierda, Princesa.” Mapí dismissed Ingrid with a wave of her hand. “Everyone wants to do something for Christmas.” Ingrid sighed, shaking her head. She knew her girlfriend, if Mapí had a plan, the plan would be happening regardless of what anyone else said.

It took maybe 10 minutes for a plan to be concocted. A plan that Keira was not too happy about. She had tried, she had tried so hard to get the team to see that there really was no issues, no larger problem at hand that led you to not really ‘doing’ Christmas. You always had been like that. She didn’t do traditional Christmas herself – her family opting for an Indian instead. A habit they had picked up from you. You were 13 when you met, 14 when she had begged her parents to let her spend the holidays with you, and 15 when you spent your first Christmas at the Walsh household.

Her parents had fussed and stressed over the catering for months, you had both watched them bring up Christmas when you visited every school holiday. It had been a throwaway comment really, a joke that you would be happy with an Indian for all you cared. You could see the look they gave you, a curious, intrigued look. ‘Christmas is about family, right? You don’t have to add the stress on top of it. If you want to do a roast, go ahead, but we just do whatever we fancy. Last year it was a roast because Kei was with us, but usually it’s something way more chilled. I think we had picky bits once’. The look on Mrs Walsh’s face was one that you would remember forever. The look of pure and utter relief that someone else had said it. That you had said it. From that Christmas on, there was no more burned potatoes or overcooked turkey. There was an Indian takeaway, dished up with more pride than any carving had ever received.

“Guys, honestly, she doesn’t wan-’

“No, Keira. She needs this.” Mapí wasn’t having any of it.

“She really doesn-” Keira tried again, looking to Lucy for help. Lucy grinned, smiling into her glass as she shrugged.

“Kei,” You shouted, oblivious to the conversation going on at the table. You staggered slightly, flopping heavily onto the ginger’s lap. “Come dance?” You asked, the blush on both of your cheeks having nothing to do with the alcohol.

“I don’t dance, y’know this.” Keira laughed slightly, her arm automatically cradling your waist.

“Please, Kei.” You pulled out your infamous puppy dog eyes, ones you knew she was irresistible to. “For me?” You pouted ever-so-slightly.

“Ugh, fine.” Keira rolled her eyes, unable to help the smile that spread across her lips as you squealed with joy. “The things I do for you,” She grumbled, allowing herself to be pulled across the floor.

“When are they going to realise, they’re head over heels for each other?” Alexia asked, watching you loop your arms around Keira’s neck as her fingers danced with the waistband of your jeans.

“Who?” Vicky asked, trying to follow Alexia’s line of sight.

“Keira and Y/N, estúpida” Pina supplied, pointed to where you and Keira were very much in your own little bubble. The group watched as Keira said something to you, and you dropped your head onto her neck, all sporting smiles as Keira’s fingers traced gentle lines on the sliver of bare skin on your back.

“At least you get a break,” Lucy commented, bringing her arm around Ona’s shoulder. “It was like this at City too, and at camp.”

“Oh god. Do you remember that time when Y/N did her hamstring, and she wasn’t on England camp? It was maybe a week and all I heard from her was ‘Kei this’ and ‘Kei that’.” Ellie chimed in, rolling her eyes at the memory.

You had torn your hamstring a week or so before you were supposed to go away on an England camp. The suddenness of it all had meant you were even more mopey than you would have been normally. Yes, you missed playing, and yes, you weren’t a fan on the rehab. But doing it without Keira to keep your spirits up was too much to handle. She had been by your side from the moment you had sat down on the grass, your face contorting in pain. She had been subbed off a few moments after you and followed you down the tunnel. Keira had driven you home and stayed the night, doting on you hand and foot, acting as you butler, driver and bodyguard until she had to leave for St George’s Park.

When Ellie had picked you up the next morning, you were a vision of sadness. Your hair was sloppily tied up, the blue circles under your eyes more noticeable than ever before. Ellie had taken note of the small 24 printed on both your hoodie and shorts for the whole week.

“God, Kei was no better. ‘I wonder what Y/N’s doing right now?’, ‘Has anyone heard from Y/N?’, ‘I better text her, make sure she’s doing okay’, ‘Oh, sorry I can’t hang out with you, I’m facetiming Y/N’. It was nauseating,” Lucy huffed, taking a swig of her drink.

“Ok, we get it, they’re in love and have been for ages, they just need to get a grip and kiss each other.” Kika laughed, watching her two new friends press themselves closer and closer.

“What do you think they’re talking about?” Aitana asked.

“Oh, Kei. I’m so in love with you it hurts.” Patri joked, her eyelids fluttering as you drapped herself over Cata.

“Oh, Y/N/N, me too. I’m just too in my head to do anything about it.” Cata joined in.

“I’m thinking we change our plan. Operation Get Y/N and Keira to Kiss at Christmas is a go.” Mapí turned to the table, bringing out her phone to take notes.

“We may need to shorten the name.” Caro chimed in, a small smile on her face.

“What are they planning?” You asked Keira, your face millimetres from hers.

“They want you to celebrate Christmas.” Keira smiled as you groaned, your head dropping onto her shoulder.

“I am celebrating Christmas, Mum and Dad are flying out on Christmas day.”

“I know that. You know that. They just don’t know that’s how you do Christmas.” Keira pressed a sneaky kiss to your temple. “They want you to spend Christmas with someone, you rescued me before that bit got figured out.”

“No,” you whined. “I love my Christmas plans. A chilled Christmas and then a very fun New Years’ with you.” You couldn’t help the blush that rose on your cheeks when you thought of your New Years’ plans.

“I know you do,” Keira laughed quietly, her cheeks sporting a similar blush. “And it’ll be our first New Years’ together.” You rolled your eyes.

“Stop phrasing it like that. We’ve spent a million New Years’ together.” You complained, shuffling closer, relishing in the feeling of her fingers against your skin.

“No, we haven’t. We have spent 13 together. But this we’ll be our first one as more than just friends.” Keira whispered into your ear.

It was a new development for you and Keira. One that had taken far too long to happen, but over a snowy hot chocolate at the Munich Christmas market when you had flown out to see Georgia, it had happened. It wasn’t really anything epic, nothing like a fairytale. Keira had told you how beautiful you looked, eyes reflecting the lights of the market. You had blushed and told her you thought she looked pretty too. She had pushed some hair off your face, and you were just inches from each other and then suddenly her lips were on yours and you hadn’t looked back since.

You had told your family but beyond that, you were relishing in the privacy of it all. The stolen kisses and quiet declarations were adding to the magic of it all. You knew you needed to tell the team soon, but you were having too much fun watching them moan and groan at each other. You were more than happy to keep it between you to, a perfect little secret to be shared at just the right time.

It was the last home game before the break when Mapí’s plan was finally able to come to light. She had everything planned to perfection. Aitana and Kika were still out on the field with Keira. Ellie and Lucy were signing things for fans and keeping a close eye on you. Alexia was the organiser, the go-between to make sure you would be walking down the tunnel at the same time. Cata was waiting by the locker room door, making sure that no one would stand in the way. Mapí, Patri and Pina were all in the locker room, placing mistletoe at strategic locations across the room. One above the doorway, one above each of your lockers, one by the entrance to the showers and the last one tucked safely next to Mapí’s things, a fail-safe she could wave above you if Plan A, B, C and D fell through.

It was the Man City game, the team knew they had ample time to prepare with how long you and Keira would stay out on the pitch catching up with old friends, but that didn’t help with the nerves. Mapí had even bribed one of the coaches to help. When Alexia gave the signal, a painstakingly crafted but natural movement of taking off her Captain’s armband, the coach would drift over to you, telling your group they needed to come inside for cool down and stretches. At the same time, Carla would beckon Keira over for some media and you would both meet at the top end of the tunnel, ready to walk past the rest of the team and straight into the locker room. Vicky had been chosen to point out the mistletoe if you hadn’t spotted it already. It had originally been Ingrid but that was met with a raised eyebrow and a shake of her head.

“Kjære, are you su-”

“Sí, Ingrid, I am more than sure. It will be un milagro de Navidad.” Mapí waved her girlfriend away, her eyes fixed excitedly on the door.

“- it’ll be nice. I’m glad that Lani and the other Aussies will be able to get back home quickly.” You chatted away to Keira, a City shirt adorning your top half as you pushed your way into the locker room. Pina not-so-subtly came to stand in front of you, stopping you in the doorway.

“You played really well, Chicas.” Pina smiled unnaturally at you.

“Uh, thanks?” You said slowly, although it came out more like a question.

“Sí, muy buen juego” Patri added, her eyes also a bit too wide. You looked towards Keira and back again, you eyes taking in the mistletoe dangling from the ceiling.

“Oh, mira eso. You are standing under muérdago. Ellie, what is muérdago en Inglés?” Vicky called, her voice superficially high.

“Mistletoe, Vicky. It is Mistletoe in English.”

“Ahh, sí. Y/N and Keira are standing under mistletoe.” Vicky’s acting was appalling. You glanced up anyway, smiling at the small spring resting above your heads. “Is the tradition the same in England as it is in España?” Vicky held her hands out in a comical shrug.

“You mean, whoever is caught under the mistletoe has to kiss, otherwise it is bad luck?” Ellie added, her acting equally awful.

“Ah, so it is the same.”

You looked over to Mapí, who was vibrating like a kid about to open their most anticipated present.

“Be … so, be … so, beso, beso, beso” Mapí began to chant, her voice carrying across the room.

You looked to Keira, smiling at her as the small blush bloomed across her cheeks. You shrugged, as if saying ‘I’m down if you are’. She nodded shyly, a smile matching yours. You shuffled a little closer, your hand coming to rest on her cheek.

You leaned in, the world around you fading into the background. Her breath hitched as your faces drew closer, her gaze briefly dropping to your lips before meeting your eyes again. The moment stretched, charged with anticipation, until finally, your lips met in a tender, lingering kiss.

The room exploded with applause, whoops, and whistles. Mapí was the loudest, clapping her hands and shouting, “Eso es! Así se hace!”

As you pulled back, Keira’s shy smile had turned into a full-blown grin, her eyes sparkling with a mix of nerves and exhilaration. “Well,” she said, laughing softly, “guess we’re lucky now.”

“Guess we are.” You stuck your tongue out at her as you moved away to the bathroom.

“So, how was your first kiss with the girl you’ve been in love with since you were 13?” Lucy asked, nudging Keira with her elbow.

“Oh, that wasn’t our first kiss,” Keira smiled up at her friend, her cheeks still lightly stained with pink.

Lucy blinked. “N-not your first kiss?” She spluttered.

“Oh no, I was her first kiss when we were like 16? I think. It was a youth camp, and everyone was saying about their first kiss and she said she hadn’t had one so I kissed her.”

“J-just like that? You kissed her? And you didn’t think to tell me?”

“Why would I, Luce? It’s not that deep.” Keira laughed, enjoying the look on Lucy’s face.

“Not … not that deep?” Lucy screeched. “Kei, you’ve been in love with her since you were 13, I have had to listen to you both whine and whine about it all and you’ve already kissed her? Keira, what the fuck?”

“Language, Lucia.” Keira teased, bending over to gather her stuff for the shower.

“H-have you kissed her since you were 16?” Lucy asked, trying to wrap her head around what was going on.

“Of course she has,” You chimed in, kissing Keira swiftly on the cheek. “It would be weird not to kiss your girlfriend.”

[catmaraudersfan]

*Danny, just waking up:*

*Groggily asks what happened*

*John, feeling nice given that the Ghost King doesn't seem to want to be here anymore than they WANT him here:*

A cult was attempting to summon the Ghost King.

*Danny:*

😨🥱

Good thing I put him back in the sarcophagus of sleep, then.

😮‍💨

*John, having intelligence and putting SEVERAL things together:*

😨😱

You FOUGHT the Ghost King?!

*Danny:*

Yep.

*John:*

*Looking at the Crown on his head and ring on his finger*

By yourself? Like in singe combat?

*Danny:*

Uh-huh. Though I did have help shoving him back in by my Rouges.

*John:*

😰

*Now pondering on JUST HOW BADLY they messed up*

What about other heroes?

*Danny:*

😳

There are other heroes?

*With the other listening heroes*

*Tony Stark:* (I'm making this a triple crossover)

*WAY ahead of everyone and having Jarvis hunt down Amity Park to see if it's back*

*Back with John and Danny*

*Danny:*

I've been doing this by myself since I half-died via electrocution. *Thor flinches in the other room. Loki pats his back, assuring him that he's sure the kid knows he wouldn't hurt him*

The only help I've gotten are my friends and sister. *Tony brings up a picture of a group of kids, making everyone's guilt and horror worse*

*John, sensing the horror of the other heroes:*

Well, kid, you and Amity Park are about to get more help than you know what to do with.

*Danny, still out of it from the fight:*

K.

💖

Just don't tell my parents.

*EVERYONE tenses at that, PRAYING it's a "I don't wanna get in trouble" type of situation*

*John:*

... Why?

😟🥶

*Danny:*

They don't know I'm half ghost and keep threatening to rip my ghost-half apart "molecule by molecule" and I'm afraid they still will even if they knew it was me. You see, they HATE ghosts. They and the Guys in White *Tony quickly finds them and everyone is outraged at the hidden "law"* don't believe ghosts feel pain or have emotions. *Frantic* BUT WE DO! They want to tear ghosts apart and experiment on them in horrible ways. *Bruce Banner taking deep calming breathes*

*John, equally as pissed:*

I have a feeling that won't be an issue much longer. *Firm agreement from the heroes* 'You and your sister MAY wind up moving, though,' John thinks to himself. *Martian Manhunter, and everyone else once he shares John's thoughts, agrees firmly with John's thoughts.*

*Loki and Thor vow to help the new Prince on how to run a kingdom. Other heroes with similar kingdoms agree.*

Danny Phantom just defeated Pariah Dark. Like he is still in that suit his father made in Pariahs keep. He doesn't know the ghost rules. It hasn't even been a year since he died and became a halfa, so no one has explained to him that if you defeat the king you become the king. In another dimension John Constantine is panicking because because the JL failed to stop a cult from completing the summoning ceremony that will summon the ghost king. They are all expecting Pariah Dark, but what they get instead is a ghost child. The summoning pulled him out of the suit that Jack made.

Danny looks around, confused with his vision blurring exhausted from fighting Pariah Dark. "Where am I?" Danny asks. Danny has no idea that he now has a floating crown above his head. He finally passes out right in front of the JL, and he transforms back into Danny Fenton.

The JL decides to take Danny to the watchtower in space and put him in a cell until he wakes up. None of them trust Danny, especially not John Constantine. When Danny wakes up, he is very confused, and sitting right outside his cell is John Constantine.

[orangeblossomsintheair]

LIONHEART (1/2) – LN4

summary : lando’s anxious journey as a dad-to-be

wc : 11k

an : this fic is kind of the antithesis of my whole “casual blog” thing but we close our eyes!! not beta read and quite a mess. it’s also longer so i hope that’s okay :>

Lando had always been confident.

On the track, in the spotlight, with a helmet on his head and a steering wheel in his hands. But when you told him you were pregnant, all of that certainty evaporated in an instant.

He just stood there in the middle of your kitchen, staring at you as if you’d just announced you were moving to Mars.

“You’re joking,” he said after a beat, his voice higher than usual, almost squeaky.

“Why would I joke about this?” you replied, holding up the positive test, your own emotions a mix of excitement and nervousness.

He blinked, his aquamarine eyes wide with disbelief, before breaking into a grin so wide it could’ve lit up the whole room. “I’m going to be a dad?”

“Yes, Lando,” you said, trying not to laugh at how genuinely dumbfounded he looked.

“A dad?” he repeated, as though saying it louder would make it sink in faster.

“Yes, Lando,” you said again, this time laughing outright.

He crossed the room in two strides, pulling you into his arms and lifting you off your feet.

He spun you around with an uncontainable excitement, his hoodie brushing against your cheek as he held you tight.

“This is insane,” he mumbled into your hair. “We’re going to be parents!”

“Careful,” you said, swatting at him lightly as he set you down. “You don’t want to shake the baby loose already.”

“Oh, right,” he said, letting go and stepping back. His head jerked up as he processed your words, looking alarmed. “Wait, is that a thing? Can I- are you okay? Are we okay? Is the baby okay?”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Lando, I found out like an hour ago. I’m pretty sure we’re fine.”

He paced the kitchen, running a hand through his curls as his grin came and went in waves. “A baby. We’re having a baby. Oh my God. Do you think it’s a boy or a girl?”

“I don’t know yet, Lando,” you said, sitting down on the couch to watch him spiral. “We’ll find out soon enough.”

“What if it’s twins?” he gasped, spinning around to face you. “Oh, I should call my mum. No, wait, too soon. We need to come up with a plan first. Have you eaten today? You need to eat. Should we go to a doctor? Ooh, they need to be a really good doctor if they’re handling my wife and baby. Should I buy baby books? Do people still read books, or do we just Google everything now?”

“Lando,” you said firmly, grabbing his hand to pull him to a stop. “Breathe.”

He took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly, nodding. “Right. Breathing. I can do that.”

He knelt down in front of you, his hands resting gently on your knees. “Sorry, I’m just… this is the biggest thing we’ve ever done.”

You smiled, brushing a curl out of his face. “It is. But we’ve got this, Lando.”

He leaned forward, resting his forehead against your belly, even though it wasn’t showing yet. “Hi in there,” he murmured, his voice soft and filled with wonder. “I’m your dad. I can’t promise I’ll always know what I’m doing, but I promise I’m going to love you more than anything in the world.”

—-

Lando had always been a man of routine– wake up, train, meetings, practice, race, repeat.

But preparing to be a dad? That was a whole different kind of race.

“I need a list,” he muttered one evening, pacing the living room while you sat on the couch, trying not to laugh. “No, like, several lists. One for baby stuff, one for the hospital bag, one for- what else do we need? Is there a book about this? Should I read a book?”

“Lando,” you interrupted gently, “you’re spiraling again.”

“I’m not spiraling! I’m… planning,” he countered, though the way he was raking his hand through his curls said otherwise. “We have to be ready, love. What if the baby comes early? What if I’m away for a race?”

You set aside the baby name book you were half-heartedly skimming and grabbed his hand, pulling him to sit beside you. “We’ll figure it out, okay? You’re doing great.”

He groaned, slumping against the couch. “Am I, though? I can barely keep my plants alive. How am I supposed to keep a tiny human alive?”

“First of all, I’m the one who keeps your plants alive,” you teased, earning a weak laugh from him. “And second, you’re going to be an amazing dad. You care so much already. It’s sweet.”

“But what if I miss something important?” he said, turning to you with wide, anxious eyes. “Like the first kick, or the first cry, or- or- what if you need me and I’m halfway across the world?”

You reached up to smooth his curls, trying to ease his tension. “Lando, you’ve already done so much. The private suite, rearranging your travel schedule to be here for every appointment… You’re balancing everything perfectly.”

—-

The next weekend, Lando was halfway across the world for a race.

He had tried to keep his focus on the track, but his mind kept drifting back to you, sitting at home with your feet propped up, texting him updates about every little thing- what you were craving, how you were feeling, and whether the baby had started kicking.

During a rare free afternoon between practice sessions, he found himself wandering into a bookstore. He had no real plan, he just knew he wanted to learn everything there was to know about being a dad.

The parenting section was tucked in a quiet corner of the shop, and as he stood there surrounded by shelves filled with brightly colored covers promising to teach him how to raise a baby, the weight of it all started to settle in.

At first, Lando was focused, scanning the titles with a determined expression. “The New Dad’s Guide to Baby Basics,” “How to Survive Your Baby’s First Year,” “Sleep Training 101.”

He picked up a few books, flipping through them as if the answers to all his worries might jump out at him.

He grabbed his phone, quickly dialing you.

“Hey, love,” he said, his voice soft and warm. “Quick question- do you think the baby’s gonna like white noise machines? Because this one book says they’re a lifesaver, but another one says they’re not necessary. And then there’s this other chapter about swaddling- do you know how to swaddle? Because I don’t.”

You laughed softly on the other end of the line. “Lando, you’re overthinking again. We’ve got months to figure this all out.”

“I know,” he sighed, running a hand through his curls. “I just… I want to be good at this. I want to be ready.”

And then, as he stood there in the middle of the bookstore, holding a stack of baby books, it hit him.

He was going to be a dad.

The thought wasn’t new. It had been there since the day you told him you were pregnant. But standing there, picturing your little family and the tiny person who was going to look up to him, rely on him, need him… it was overwhelming in the best way.

“Lando?” you said gently, pulling him back to the moment. “You okay?”

“I just-” He laughed nervously. “It’s a lot, you know? I mean, I’m going to be someone’s dad. That’s huge. What if I mess up? I’m practically a child!”

“Yeah,” he said, though his voice cracked a little. He cleared his throat, his free hand gripping the book tightly.

You smiled, wishing you could hug him through the phone. “You won’t mess up. You’re already doing amazing, and the baby’s not even here yet. You care so much, Lando. That’s what matters.”

He took a deep breath, letting your words sink in. “Thanks, love. I just… I want to do this right. For you. For them.”

“You will,” you reassured him. “And for the record, I think the baby’s going to love white noise machines and your ridiculous dad jokes.”

Lando chuckled, the tension in his chest easing slightly. “You think? Because I’ve already got a few saved up. Want to hear one?”

“No,” you teased, laughing. “Save them for when the baby’s old enough to groan at them.”

He grinned, his confidence slowly returning as he balanced the books in his arms. “Okay, okay. I’ll wait. But just so you know, they’re gold.”

After that call, Lando left the store with an armful of books and a heart that was a little fuller, a little steadier.

But one thing he knew for sure- he couldn’t wait to meet the little person who was already changing his world.

He still had moments of doubt, of wondering if he was truly ready for this massive change in his life.

—-

Even as Lando threw himself into preparation mode with the same energy he brought to a race weekend, scouring books and online articles about parenting, he still often got hilariously sidetracked by baby-related gadgets and gear.

“Did you know they make mini race suits for babies?” he asked one night, sprawled across the couch with his phone in hand, his eyes wide with excitement.

You glanced up from your own book, raising an eyebrow. “Lando, the baby’s not even born yet. Don’t you think it’s a little early for racing gear?”

“But imagine the photos!” he argued, sitting up and holding his phone out toward you like it was the discovery of the century.

On the screen was a tiny race suit in McLaren orange. “Our kid’s first photo: full McLaren merch. It’ll be iconic!”

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head. “Iconic or not, I think diapers are going to be a bigger priority than race suits.”

“Lando,” you said, trying to sound serious but failing as a smile tugged at your lips, “our baby isn’t going to be born straight into a Formula 1 garage.”

“Why not both?” he shot back with a grin, already scrolling to find more baby-sized racing gear.

“Oh my god, look at this! miniature headphones for the paddock! Our baby could be sitting in the garage, looking like a proper little team member.”

He gasped dramatically, clutching his chest. “Blasphemy! Of course they are. It’s practically tradition.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help feeling touched by his enthusiasm. He wasn’t just excited; he was genuinely looking forward to every part of being a dad, even the ridiculous ones.

That wasn’t to say there weren’t more.. unwise moments even with non-racing related baby items.

Like the time he came home from a race weekend with three identical diaper bags.

“Lando,” you said, holding one up. “Why do we need three of these?”

“They’re different brands,” he explained, looking genuinely confused as to why you were asking. “What if one of them is better? Or has more pockets?”

“Pockets?”

“Yeah! Babies need a lot of stuff, right? I saw a mom at the airport with one of these, and she looked like she had her life together. I want you to have your life together too.”

You burst out laughing, and he groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Stop laughing! I’m trying to be prepared!”

“You’re overprepared,” you said, setting the bags down and walking over to wrap your arms around him. “But that’s why I love you.”

But it also wasn’t all fun and games.

Lando was determined to be as supportive as possible, especially when it came to your comfort. He took “protective husband” to a whole new level during your first trimester, hovering like an overzealous pit crew.

“Lando, I can still carry my own bag,” you told him one morning as he practically wrestled your tote out of your hands.

“Nope,” he said firmly, slinging it over his shoulder like it was his new personal mission. “You’re carrying our future world champion. I’ve got this.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “It’s a tote bag, not a tire. I think I can manage.”

“Well, I’m not taking any chances,” he replied, puffing out his chest dramatically. “What kind of dad would I be if I let you strain yourself this early?”

“A sane one?” you teased.

He huffed, clutching the bag like it was a trophy. ��I’ll ignore that slander. Now, where’s your water bottle? And your snacks? Have you eaten? Do you need to sit down?”

You groaned, rolling your eyes. “Lando, I’m fine. You don’t need to act like I’m about to collapse any second.”

“Not on my watch,” he declared, marching ahead of you with your bag.

“Do you even know how many articles I’ve read about pregnancy? You’re supposed to avoid heavy lifting, stay hydrated, and-”

“-and avoid stress,” you interrupted, smirking. “Which you’re causing right now with all this hovering.”

“I’m helping,” he corrected, spinning around to face you with a determined look. “And besides, you’d thank me if you saw the kind of stuff I’ve been reading. Did you know some women crave chalk during pregnancy? Chalk! What if that happens to you? I need to be prepared!”

“Lando, I’m not craving chalk,” you said, trying not to laugh.

“Not yet,” he countered, narrowing his eyes like it was only a matter of time. “But when you do, I’ll be ready with… I don’t know, chalk alternatives or something.”

“Is that what you’ve been doing on your phone? Researching chalk alternatives?”

“Did you know we might need a whole new mattress? Pregnant people need optimal support. And I saw this thing about belly bands. Do you want one? I can order it right now. Oh! And don’t even get me started on prenatal yoga-”

“Among other things,” he said with a shrug, completely serious.

You reached out to grab his arm, laughing. “Okay, slow down, Mr. Norris. You’re going to give yourself a stress rash before we even get to the second trimester.”

He looked at you sheepishly, his determination softening into a shy smile. “I just… I want to do this right, you know? I’ve never done this before.”

You softened, cupping his cheek. “I know, love. And you’re doing amazing. But you don’t have to do everything perfectly. Just… be here. That’s all I need.”

His shoulders relaxed a little, and he leaned into your touch. “Okay,” he murmured.

Then, after a beat: “But I’m still carrying the bag.”

“Of course you are,” you said, shaking your head as he flashed you that trademark cheeky grin.

From then on, Lando took his role as your personal assistant very seriously. He stocked the fridge with all your favorite snacks, some of which you hadn’t even asked for.

“I saw this article about pickles and peanut butter,” he said one day, holding up a jar. “Do you think you’ll want to try it? Should I get bread?”

“You’re the one who’s going to end up eating it,” you teased.

And when it came to appointments, he was like a man on a mission. He set reminders, packed snacks for the waiting room, and even insisted on bringing a notebook to jot down questions.

“I don’t want to forget anything important,” he said, scribbling furiously while the doctor explained prenatal vitamins.

“You’re going to end up with a full-on pregnancy thesis,” you joked.

“Because I need to know everything.”

“Good,” he replied, deadpan.

He was equal parts adorable and exhausting, but one thing was clear: Lando was already the most devoted dad-to-be you could have asked for.

—-

He didn’t care what he had to move around, he was going to be there.

Lando insisted on attending every single doctor’s appointment, even if it meant rearranging his training schedule or skipping a media event.

Your husband had always been incredibly aware of his public image, and he knew his absence in a lot of McLaren PR videos was beginning to be noticed.

The whispers started subtly at first, just a few fans commenting on his social media posts, wondering why he wasn’t posting as frequently, why he wasn’t sharing his usual behind-the-scenes content.

Fans questioning his commitment to racing, accusing him of not showing up enough for the sport.

But over time, it started to get louder. On Twitter, the rumors spread like wildfire.

He couldn’t give a damn, to be honest.

He was fidgeting with the strap of his McLaren cap, spinning it around in his hands like it was the only thing grounding him.

“I don’t want to miss anything,” he told you one day as you both waited in the ultrasound room.

“What if they show us something important, like the baby’s heartbeat, and I’m not here? I’d never forgive myself.”

“You’ll see everything,” you assured him, lacing your fingers with his and giving his hand a squeeze. “I promise you won’t miss a thing.”

He exhaled deeply but didn’t stop fidgeting. “Do you think they’re okay? Like, really okay? What if the baby’s too small? What if-”

“Lando,” you interrupted gently, giving him a pointed look. “Breathe. Everything’s fine. You’re panicking for nothing.”

He let out a nervous laugh, scratching the back of his neck. “Sorry, I just... I’ve never been this nervous before. Not even before my first race.”

He leaned forward, his eyes glued to the screen, his hand clutching yours like it was a lifeline.

When the ultrasound tech finally entered the room and began the scan, Lando nearly jumped out of his seat.

“Alright,” the tech said with a kind smile, turning the screen toward you both. “Here’s your baby.”

Lando froze, his eyes wide as the faint image of your baby appeared on the monitor. “That’s… them?” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

“That’s them,” the tech confirmed, moving the wand slightly. “And if you look right here, you’ll see their heartbeat.”

She pointed to a tiny flicker on the screen, and Lando’s breath caught. “Is that… Is that their heart?”

“Yes,” she said warmly. “That’s your baby’s heartbeat.”

“Oh my God,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “That’s them. That’s our baby.”

Lando’s eyes immediately welled up with tears. He blinked rapidly, clearly trying to keep them from falling, but one slipped down his cheek anyway.

You reached up to wipe the tear from his cheek, your own eyes misty. “They’re perfect, aren’t they?”

Then he turned to you with the biggest grin you’d ever seen, his face lighting up like a kid on Christmas morning. “They’ve already got your heart, don’t they?”

“They are,” he said, his voice full of awe.

“And yours,” you added softly, squeezing his hand.

Lando laughed quietly, his free hand running through his hair. “This is insane. Like, actually insane. That’s a real human. Our human. I don’t even know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” you replied, smiling at him. “Just feel it.”

He nodded, his gaze drifting back to the screen. “They’re so small,” he murmured, almost to himself. Then he let out a shaky laugh.

“God, I hope they get your patience. And your smarts. And maybe your taste in music too, because mine’s questionable at best.”

“They’ll be a little bit of both of us,” you said. “The good and the bad.”

“And hopefully less of the bad,” he joked, his smile growing wider. “Although if they’re anything like me, they’ll probably be a little naughty regardless.”

He spent a few moments just staring in silent awe of the ultrasound before leaning over and pressing a kiss to your temple. “We’re going to be okay, aren’t we?”

You nodded, resting your head against his shoulder. “More than okay, Lando. We’re going to be great.”

He asked the tech at least three times if he could get extra printouts of the ultrasound, and as soon as you left the room, he was texting the photo to his parents.

For the rest of the appointment, Lando couldn’t stop staring at the monitor.

“You won’t believe this,” he said excitedly as he hit send. “They’re already perfect. I mean, look at them!”

You laughed, shaking your head at his enthusiasm. “You’re going to be insufferable, aren’t you?”

“Absolutely,” he replied with a grin, slipping the ultrasound photo into his wallet like it was his most prized possession.

—-

His hands were a blur, adjusting every little decoration as if this one cake would determine the future of the entire Norris family.

Lando stood in the kitchen, pacing around the table with the cake in front of him.

He wiped his brow for what felt like the tenth time, clearly worked up.

“You’re sure you’re okay with this?” Lando asked again, his voice laced with nerves, as he fiddled with the tiny blue and pink ribbons on top of the cake.

You raised an eyebrow, watching him with a grin. “Lando, it’s just cake. I don’t need a fireworks show or a parade. Just let me eat it. We’re finding out if we’re having a mini-me or mini-you today, not the cure for world hunger.”

He looked at you, eyes wide with mock concern. “I know! But this is important, okay? This cake isn’t just cake. It’s the cake that’s gonna reveal if our baby’s gonna have my style or your... I don’t know, your taste in TV shows.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh, so my TV shows are the problem now? I seem to remember you binge-watching those ridiculous reality shows last week.”

Lando chuckled, adjusting the cake for the third time. “Fine. But I will not apologize for the occasional guilty pleasure, okay?”

His mom was practically jumping up and down, already holding a bottle of champagne in one hand.

Before you could fire back, there was a knock at the door, and Lando’s parents stormed in, as excited as ever, clearly eager to be part of the big reveal.

“Alright, alright, we ready for this?!” she practically shouted, already bouncing on the balls of her feet. “Lando, you didn’t mess up the cake, did you?”

Lando puffed out his chest, trying to seem cool, but you could tell he was as jittery as a kid before Christmas. “What do you think? I’m a pro. I’ve got this under control.”

His dad leaned in and clapped him on the back with a knowing look. “Sure, sure. It’s just cake, son. Don’t overthink it.”

“Easy for you to say!” Lando replied, rolling his eyes but clearly taking comfort in his dad’s easy confidence.

“Do I need to set up a tent or something for you? I can go grab the calm-down snacks,” his mom teased, already rifling through the bags of baby gifts she had brought with her.

He turned back to the cake, brushing his hands against his jeans as if trying to shake off his nerves. “Right. Big moment.”

Lando gave her a playful glare. “I’m fine, Mom. I’m just...you know, a little excited.”

You crossed your arms, trying to stifle your laughter at the drama of it all. “You know, you’re acting like you’re about to drive the final lap of a Grand Prix, not slice a cake, right?”

Lando shot you a look, half guilty, half defensive. “What do you mean? This is important, okay?”

“Yeah, because the world is watching,” you quipped, leaning against the counter with a grin.

“Absolutely! What if the cake doesn’t come out perfectly? What if it’s not the right color? What if-”

“Lando,” you interrupted with a chuckle, “I’m pretty sure it’ll be okay if it’s not perfect. It’s just a cake.”

He sighed dramatically. “You don’t get it. This is a moment. A huge one! I can’t mess this up.”

(Lando’s parents exchanged amused glances. “He’s got it bad, huh?” his dad whispered to his mom.

“Oh, you don’t even know,” she replied with a wink.)

“You’re really sure you’re not panicking?” you teased, nudging him, raising an eyebrow.

Lando flashed you a grin. “Nope. I’ve totally got it handled. This is the most important moment of our lives, and I’m... handling it.”

The cake, a simple vanilla sponge with soft pastel decorations, sat in front of you all like a ticking clock. Lando’s hands hovered above it, shaking slightly as he gripped the knife.

The room filled up with laughter and chatter as family and friends settled into their spots, everyone eager to be a part of the big moment.

You placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Lando, it’s going to be fine.”

He gave you a nervous smile. “Yeah, I know. I’m just- just a little excited.”

He cut the first slice carefully, holding his breath. His eyes darted between the cake and you, trying to gauge the moment, the color, the reaction.

“Is it-” Lando’s mom leaned forward, eager and almost bouncing in her seat. “Is it blue or pink?”

His hands trembled for a moment, and then, without warning, his lips curled into a grin so wide it could have lit up the whole room.

When Lando saw the blue filling spill out from the cake, it was like a switch flipped inside him.

He threw his arms up in the air, as if he’d just crossed the finish line, his chest puffing out like he’d just clinched a Grand Prix victory.

“I’ve got a son! A SON! I’m gonna be a dad to a little boy!” he exclaimed, his voice rising in a playful tone, as if he was addressing a crowd at a podium.

“YES!” he yelled, his voice carrying the excitement and relief of a race win. He even did a little fist pump, completely caught up in the moment, forgetting the cake still had to be served.

His family burst into laughter, but Lando didn't care. He was riding high on the adrenaline of the moment, his face flushed with joy. He turned to you, eyes wide and sparkling, as if the world had just handed him the greatest trophy imaginable.

“Lando, you’re not actually racing a Grand Prix right now,” you said, your laughter shaking your voice. “You don’t need to act like you just won Monaco!”

Lando paused for a split second, still grinning like a Cheshire cat. “Oh, but I am! This is my Monaco moment!”

—-

Before your son arrived, the two of you spent countless hours brainstorming names, debating, and laughing at your ideas, the excitement of becoming parents finally hitting both of you.

Lando, sprawled beside you with his laptop open, occasionally paused to glance at you, a goofy grin on his face.

You sat on the couch in the private suite, your legs curled up underneath you as you flicked through baby name books.

“You know what would be funny?” Lando said, his eyes lighting up. “If we named him after a race track. Like, Monaco or Spa.”

You raised an eyebrow, amused but skeptical. “Monaco? Really? We’re naming our kid after a place?”

Lando shrugged with a playful grin. “It’s iconic. Imagine saying, ‘This is my son, Spa Norris.’ Sounds like he’s destined to be a Formula 1 champion, right?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Yeah, that’s not going to fly. I’m not going to name our son after a race track, Lando.”

He pouted, pretending to be disappointed. “You’re no fun. I thought you’d be into it.”

You shot him a playful look. “Well, if you’re going to go that route, we might as well name him something like 'Aston' or 'Ferrari'.”

Lando dramatically gasped. “Ferrari Norris?” he echoed, as if he’d just had an epiphany. “That actually sounds pretty cool.” He immediately began typing it into his phone. “Imagine the headlines: ‘Little Ferrari Norris shows up at the karting track, stealing the show already.’”

You chuckled, giving him a teasing nudge. “Okay, okay. Let’s put a pin in that one, but seriously, we need something that isn’t a car or a race track. We need to think long-term. He’s not going to be five years old forever.”

Lando sat back, tapping his fingers on the side of his laptop, deep in thought. “How about Maximus? It sounds strong, right?”

You gave him a flat look. “You realize that would just end up as Max, and then we’d have to deal with every comparison to Verstappen and Max, right?”

Lando’s eyes widened slightly as you pointed out the potential issue. He paused, tapping his fingers on the laptop as he processed your words.

“Oh, right,” he said slowly, running a hand through his hair. “Maximus could be a disaster. Imagine our kid being called Max every time. He’ll spend his whole life being compared to Verstappen, and Max.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, not ideal. We’re already in the spotlight enough with you and everything, we don’t need to add fuel to the fire.”

Lando groaned, slouching slightly in his chair. “Okay, so no Maximus. What about... Thor? Sounds strong, right? A god or something.”

You blinked, trying to keep a straight face. “Lando, we're naming our kid, not preparing him for a Marvel movie.”

“I’m just saying,” he grinned, holding his hands up in mock defense. “Thor Norris. Sounds pretty cool, right? Imagine him on the playground.”

“Yeah, until he gets bullied for being named after a thunder god,” you replied with a teasing smile. “We want a name that’s strong, but also, you know, normal.”

Lando sighed dramatically, rubbing his temples. “Why is this so hard? This is supposed to be the fun part!”

“Because you're overthinking it,” you said, leaning over to ruffle his hair. “We don't need to make him sound like a superhero. We need something that suits him, something that feels right.”

Lando scrolled through a few more names on his phone. “What about Leo? You know, like the lion?”

You looked over at him, a thoughtful expression crossing your face. “Leo.. huh, I kind of like that.”

Lando met your gaze, his smile softening. “I do too. It feels strong. But it’s also… warm. I can imagine him growing up with that name.”

“I think that’s the one,” you said softly, your heart warming at the thought of it.

You smiled, already picturing your son, little Leo, chasing after you both in a go-kart, or laughing as he wore his tiny McLaren onesie.

Lando nodded, his voice quieter now. “Leo Norris. Yeah… I like it.”

A mix of excitement and nervous energy filled the air. But above it all, you both felt the quiet, comforting certainty that you’d chosen the right name.

You both sat there for a while, soaking in the reality that soon, you’d have a little one to love and raise.

“Leo Norris,” Lando repeated, his grin returning. “You’re going to be so cool, little guy.”

—-

By the time the baby’s due date was right around the corner, Lando had practically perfected the art of juggling his high-pressure career with impending fatherhood.

He FaceTimed you every chance he got during race weekends, even if it was just for a few minutes, to check in and ask how you and the baby were doing.

Every call was an opportunity for him to make silly faces at your growing belly, as if your unborn child could already understand what he was doing.

“How’s my little team doing today?” Lando asked, his face beaming from the screen, grinning like a kid with a secret.

You raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean, ‘little team’? It’s still just one person, you know.”

He paused, holding his hands up as though giving you a game plan. “It’s all about the future, babe. Right now, it’s just me and you, but soon, we’re gonna have our first real team member. And I’m gonna be the best team principal there ever was.” He winked, clearly enjoying the idea.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Uh-huh. Sure. First, you have to figure out how to change a diaper before you’re giving out performance reviews.”

Lando's grin faded slightly, and his expression became more serious. “I can change a tire under pressure, but... a diaper? You’re sure I’m gonna be okay with that?”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “You’ve changed car tires with a stopwatch ticking down. A diaper is like... one percent of the stress.”

Lando scratched his head, clearly still not totally convinced. “Yeah, but there’s a lot more wiggle with a baby than with a tire.”

You chuckled, hearing the nerves in his voice despite his usual cocky demeanor. “I’m sure you’ll manage. You’re gonna be a great dad. Besides, how bad can it be? Worst-case scenario, we just put him in a McLaren onesie and call it a day.”

Lando’s eyes lit up. “Wait, does McLaren make baby clothes?” he asked, suddenly distracted, pulling out his phone.

You sighed, trying not to laugh. “Focus, Lando, the baby comes first, not McLaren merch.”

He was too busy scrolling through his phone, searching for baby-sized McLaren gear. “Just imagine! Tiny little race suits! Our kid’s first proper race suit! It’ll be legendary*”

But he didn’t hear you.

You smirked. “Right, because that’s all a baby needs, to be decked out in McLaren gear. A future world champion and fashion icon.”

Lando nodded seriously, still scrolling. “Exactly. The sooner they start looking the part, the sooner they’ll feel the pressure to deliver.”

You shook your head, your lips curving into a smile. “You’re definitely going to spoil this kid rotten.”

“I’m just preparing them for greatness!” Lando declared, his voice mock-serious. “Besides, they’re going to have someone to look up to.”

You laughed, a soft teasing tone in your voice. “You mean you? The guy who keeps asking me if he’ll be cool enough for a toddler?”

Lando looked at you, eyebrows furrowing with mock panic. “I just want them to think I’m cool, okay? What if they’re disappointed? What if they grow up to think I’m just some guy who drives a car really fast and wears too many McLaren hats?”

You snorted, not even trying to hide your amusement. “Lando, you drive a Formula 1 car for a living. I think you’ll manage to impress a toddler.”

“Yeah, well, toddlers are tough critics,” he muttered, flopping back onto his bed. “What if they want a cooler dad? Like, what if they see some famous soccer player or something and think he’s way cooler than their dad?”

“Lando, the kid isn’t even born yet, and you’re already stressing about being the coolest parent?” You shook your head, trying to hold back laughter. “Relax. You’re gonna be the coolest dad, hands down.”

“You really think so?” Lando asked, his tone suddenly turning sincere, a soft smile curling his lips.

“Absolutely,” you replied, your voice full of confidence. “You’re gonna be amazing. And anyway, when they get older, they'll think you're the coolest just because you drive an F1 car. That’s literally a dream job for kids.”

Lando smiled at you through the screen, clearly reassured. “Alright, alright. I can live with that.” He paused for a moment, his

“I’m gonna train them up. Baby steps, right? First, it’s McLaren onesies. Then, they’ll be driving go-karts by five.”

—-

You rolled your eyes, laughing. “I think you’ve got a few years before that happens, buddy.”

You watched him from the couch, amused by how obviously he was working up the courage to say something.

Lando had been pacing the living room for what felt like hours, his hands in his hair and his bottom lip caught between his teeth.

Finally, unable to take his fidgeting any longer, you set your book down and raised an eyebrow at him.

“Alright, spill it,” you said, crossing your arms.

He stopped pacing, turning to you with a sheepish grin. “Okay, don’t get mad, but… can I tell Carlos?”

You blinked at him, confused. “Tell Carlos what?”

“The baby!” Lando blurted, throwing his hands in the air. “I swear I won’t say anything to anyone else, but I feel like I’m going to burst if I don’t tell someone. And Carlos, he’s my best mate in the paddock, you know? and I feel like I’m going to burst if I don’t tell someone. He’s good at keeping secrets! Remember when I told him about… well, you know…”

You smirked. “The time you accidentally spilled coffee all over Zak’s favorite race notes and blamed the wind?”

Lando groaned, running a hand through his curls. “Yes, that! He didn’t tell anyone!”

He leaned in closer, his big, pleading eyes locking onto yours. “Please, love. I need someone to talk to about this in the paddock. I promise it’ll stay between me and him. And you, of course. You’re the boss.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you said, shaking your head with a smile.

“But adorable?” he pressed, grinning mischievously.

You laughed, shaking your head at his antics. “Alright, alright. You can tell Carlos. But only Carlos. If I see headlines about ‘Baby Norris’ next week, I’m blaming you.”

Lando let out a victorious whoop, throwing his arms around you and pressing a kiss to your cheek. “You won’t regret this, I promise! I’ll handle it perfectly.”

“Uh-huh,” you teased. “Just don’t come crying to me if he accidentally tells the entire grid.”

“He won’t!” Lando assured you, already pulling out his phone. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a Spaniard to swear into secrecy.”

—-

He’d pulled you aside earlier on, his brow furrowed in a mix of excitement and concern.

Lando, despite his enthusiasm around friends and family, had always been the type to keep his personal life as far away from the media as possible, especially when it came to you and your pregnancy.

“I just want to protect you from all that stress, love,” he’d said softly, his hands resting on your shoulders. “The media’s only gonna make everything harder. Let’s keep it to ourselves and family and friends until we’re ready.”

So, you kept things under wraps, avoiding public appearances and letting Lando handle the media while you focused on your health and well-being.

You’d agreed, knowing his intention was to shield you from any unnecessary pressure.

At first, you’d manage to sneak in a few appearances, sitting in the background, away from the cameras. But soon, you started pulling back even more, skipping races altogether. The tabloids, however, didn’t miss a beat.

But as your pregnancy progressed and your bump started to show, it became harder to stay out of the public eye.

You could practically see the frustration building in him. He was giving off full-on whiny vibes, and you couldn't help but smirk at how ridiculous the whole thing seemed.

Lando was pacing back and forth in your living room, muttering to himself as he read through the latest batch of articles about him and your supposed divorce.

“I swear, they’ve completely lost their minds!” Lando groaned, throwing his phone down onto the couch with a dramatic flair. “What do they mean we’re getting divorced? Have they seen you? Why would I ever, ever, let you go?”

You leaned back on the couch, trying to keep your composure as he began pacing again. “Lando, calm down. It’s just the media. They love making stuff up.”

“No, it’s not just the media!” he whined, stopping mid-pacing to stare at you. “This is serious! They think I’m out here with a divorce like that’s even a thing. I’m happily married! You’re at home growing our kid, not plotting some dramatic breakup!”

You tried to hold back your laugh, but Lando’s whining was getting funnier by the second. “Babe, seriously, it’s not the end of the world. You’re acting like the tabloids are going to come for us with pitchforks.”

“I’m just trying to figure out how they got this idea. I’m not... like, I’m not perfect, but come on! Look at you! You’re gorgeous, and we’re over here living our best life, why would I ever let you go?”

“I’m just-” He paused, running his hands through his hair like he was about to pull it out.

You grinned, giving him a teasing side-eye. “Aww, are you saying I’m too good for you?”

Lando froze, turning to you with wide eyes. “No! I mean, yes, but no!” He huffed dramatically, flopping down onto the couch next to you. “You’re perfect! You’re the perfect wife! And you’re the one who makes everything better, and now they’re out here saying I’m getting divorced? No! That’s not how this works!”

You reached over, resting your hand on his, trying to hold back your own laughter. “Lando, babe, it’s just rumors. People are bored. They don’t know anything, and they’re making stuff up. Just ignore it.”

“Ignore it? How am I supposed to ignore this? They’re making me look like the worst husband in the world! Divorce? I’ve been married for, like, what, five minutes? And now I’m already getting a bad rep? This is ridiculous!”

He looked at you like you’d just suggested the impossible.

You snorted, finally giving in to the humor of the situation. “Okay, okay, so how are you planning to fix it? Go out there and shout from the rooftops?”

Lando sighed heavily, clearly still upset. “I don’t know! Maybe I should just do an entire press conference. ‘Hello, everyone, just in case there was any doubt, I’m not divorced! I’m happily married! And I’m going home to my gorgeous wife and our baby, who will totally not grow up to be a Formula 1 driver, I promise.’”

You couldn’t stop laughing now. “Babe, just post a picture of us and say ‘Still happily married’ that’ll do the trick.”

Lando groaned in frustration. “But why do I have to do that? Why can’t people just know? It’s like they’ve forgotten what happiness looks like. They’re just out here making up stories!”

You patted his leg, smiling fondly at him. “You’re cute when you get worked up, you know that?”

He shot you a look. “I’m serious! This is outrageous. I swear, if I see one more headline about our ‘divorce,’ I’m gonna lose it.”

“Alright, alright,” you said, leaning over to kiss his cheek. “Calm down. It’s just noise. We know what’s real.”

Lando pouted, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m not a fan of this noise. It’s too much, and I just want to be left alone to focus on being an amazing husband and father. Is that too much to ask?”

You smiled, giving him a reassuring squeeze. “No, love. It’s not too much to ask. But maybe, just maybe, try to ignore the headlines for once?”

He sighed dramatically. “Fine. I’ll try. But if they start talking about me again... I’m calling a press conference.”

—-

Lando had just finished a grueling race, his face flushed with exertion but still carrying that unmistakable grin.

He was on cloud nine, but he could already sense the usual flood of media around him. It was never just about the race with him, it was always about something else, something personal.

As he was making his way to the interview zone, one journalist, eager to get the scoop, stepped in front of him with a grin.

The media had taken their guesses and spun them into wild stories. He had kept quiet for as long as possible, but today, something inside him snapped.

“Lando, congratulations on the win! How’s everything going with your wife? We’ve heard a lot of speculation recently, some rumors flying around about your relationship. Can you clear that up for us?”

Lando froze mid-step, his brow furrowing. The questions about his relationship with you had been relentless recently, but this, this was the last straw.

He glanced over at his PR team, who were silently freaking out in the background, and then he turned back to the reporter, a small, sarcastic smirk pulling at his lips. “Yeah, here’s the thing.”

“Rumors?” Lando repeated, voice low but filled with frustration.

He paused, taking a deep breath. His hands were shaking from the adrenaline of the race, but his eyes were laser-focused on the reporter.

“Here’s the thing,” Lando said again, this time louder, looking directly into the camera, “I’m going to give a shout-out to my beautiful wife right now, and to hell with everyone else. To all the tabloids, the rumors, and the people making things up… fuck you. I love my wife. She’s amazing. We’re happy. Now, can we get back to the racing?”

The crowd of reporters and cameras around him seemed to freeze for a moment, unsure of how to react to his sudden outburst.

Lando’s eyes burned with a mixture of frustration and determination as he stood there, refusing to back down.

“Seriously,” he continued, his voice steadier now, but still tinged with that raw intensity, “I’ve kept quiet for as long as I can. I get it, you want the drama, you want the headlines.”

He glanced around at the sea of microphones pointed at him, his gaze intense. The silence hung heavy in the air, broken only by the hum of distant chatter.

“But I’m here to race,” he added, his jaw clenched. “So, let me make it clear. My wife and I are doing great. I’m not hiding anything from anyone. The only thing I’m focused on is the fact that I just finished on a podium position, and that's what matters.”

For a moment, he allowed himself to breathe, his chest still rising and falling from the aftershocks of the race and the adrenaline of the moment.

The reporter, still holding the microphone, looked almost shocked by Lando’s outburst, but before they could get another word in, Lando raised his hand, cutting them off.

“I’ve had enough,” he said firmly. “So here’s the deal. To everyone who wants to keep spreading rumors or digging into our lives. Don’t. And to my wife, if you’re watching this, I love you. You’re incredible.”

There was a brief moment of silence, and then, with a final glance at the camera, Lando broke into a grin.

“And now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a celebration to get to. See you at the next race.”

With that, he turned, walking away from the reporters, leaving them dumbfounded and speechless. His PR team scrambled behind him, clearly trying to catch up and figure out how to spin this into something less... explosive, but Lando wasn’t having it.

He was done with the noise, done with the rumors. And if the media wanted a story, they could have that one because he wasn’t hiding his love for you, and he wasn’t going to let anyone tell a different story.

Back in the paddock, as he made his way toward the celebration, he pulled out his phone, sending you a quick text: “Hey, I may have just lost my cool on live TV but don’t worry, it was for you. Love you always 🧡”

As soon as the text sent, Lando couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all.

—-

You didn’t have a chance to misinterpret anything when you were bombarded by videos of Lando’s recent stunt by your friends and family.

When you saw the text pop up on your phone, you blinked at it for a moment, reading it over a few times to make sure you weren’t misinterpreting things.

You froze.

The sheer audacity of him, of his love for you, left you speechless for a moment.

This was a whole other level. You couldn’t help but let out a laugh, a combination of shock and amusement.

Of course, Lando had always been passionate, always been the kind of person who wasn’t afraid to stand up for what mattered to him. But this?

You immediately hit the video call button, your heart racing.

When his face appeared on the screen, he was still beaming with that grin he wore after a good race, sweaty, glowing, and impossibly handsome.

But then, his eyes widened when he saw the expression on your face.

“What?” he asked, still out of breath from the race, his grin fading a little. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

You couldn’t help yourself. “Lando Norris,” you began, trying to keep your voice steady, “did you just… tell everyone to fuck off on live TV?!”

His eyes grew comically wide, and he immediately slapped a hand to his forehead, groaning dramatically as if he was ashamed of his actions. “I swear I didn’t mean to-”

“Oh, you didn’t mean to?!” you interrupted, laughing uncontrollably, clutching your stomach from how hard you were giggling. “Lando, that was literally a full-on ‘fuck you’ to the media! And you said it was for me?!”

He flushed, sheepish but still trying to hide his growing smile. “Look, okay, I was just- uh- tired of the rumors, alright? And when they asked about you- about us- I just kind of... lost it. I wasn’t thinking. I just wanted to make sure they all knew how much I love you. How happy we are.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” you said, still laughing, wiping a tear from your eye. “You’re really doing a great job of showing that. It was the most Lando Norris thing you could’ve done!”

Lando leaned back against the wall, clearly embarrassed but still that familiar, playful Lando you knew and loved. “I didn’t think it’d go that far,” he muttered, but then his grin returned. “But you know what? Fuck it. They can say what they want.”

You let out a breath, finally calming down, though you were still grinning. “You are such a dork,” you said, shaking your head with affection. “But I love you for it. Seriously. I never thought I’d be watching you on TV yelling at the media like that.”

He puffed out his chest, doing a little dramatic bow. “What can I say? I’m just a man in love.”

“I’m starting to think you’re also a man who has no filter,” you teased, leaning in closer to the screen. “But I can’t deny, it’s kind of… hot.”

Lando’s cheeks flushed at that, and he let out a chuckle. “Oh, now you’re really making me blush. I can’t believe I just did that...”

“You definitely made a statement,” you said, the smile still playing on your lips. “The whole world now knows you’re not just a great driver- you're a very passionate husband, apparently. Also, good luck with your PR team after that one.”

“Oh, they’re probably freaking out right now,” Lando said with a knowing grin. “But hey, at least I got to make things clear.”

You paused for a moment, letting his words settle. “You know what, Lando? I really appreciate it. I know the media can be overwhelming, and I’m glad you’re doing what you can to protect us, even if it means embarrassing yourself a little. But just... maybe next time? You could, I don’t know, use a little less profanity?”

“Right,” he said, nodding seriously. “Next time, I’ll scream it in sign language. Less dramatic, more subtle.”

You rolled your eyes, but your heart swelled with affection. “You’re impossible.”

“I know,” he grinned. “But I’m your impossible.”

—-

The grueling months of races, travel, and endless media commitments were finally over, and he was about to have a few weeks of uninterrupted time with you and the baby.

When the end of the racing season finally rolled around, Lando could hardly contain his excitement.

The weight of the season had been heavy, and now that it was over, he felt like he could breathe again, and it felt amazing.

The moment he heard the announcement that the season was officially over, his excitement bubbled over. He was practically buzzing with anticipation, his usual calm and collected persona giving way to a wide, ear-to-ear grin.

For weeks leading up to the last race, Lando had been counting down the days.

It was as if the pressure of racing and all the responsibilities had just melted away, and he was ready to dive straight into a new kind of excitement, one that involved a lot more time at home with you.

You were sitting on the couch, relaxing after your own busy day, scrolling through your phone, when you heard the familiar sound of

Lando’s boots hitting the floor. He was almost running, and his footsteps were light and fast, as if he couldn’t wait to see you.

Without a second thought, he rushed over to where you were sitting, scooping you up into his arms like you weighed nothing at all. He spun you around once, a burst of laughter escaping his lips.

“Babe!” he shouted, throwing his bag down with abandon, his voice practically singing with happiness.

“I’m home, I’m home, I’m home!” he repeated, his grin so wide it almost seemed to stretch across his face.

“I’m more than happy,” he replied, his eyes sparkling with joy. “I’m ecstatic. Finally, a break. No planes, no races, no media, just me, you, and... well, you know, our little one,” he added, glancing down at your belly with a soft smile.

You couldn’t help but laugh as his excitement flooded the room, feeling the warmth of his embrace. "Well, I can tell you’re happy about the season being over," you teased, giving him a playful look as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Sounds perfect,” you said, feeling the love in his words. “I think we both deserve a break.”

Lando nodded enthusiastically. “I can’t wait to just be home with you. I’ve missed so much of this year, and now I get to make up for it. I’ve got so many plans. We can do all the things we’ve been talking about, prepare the nursery, take walks together, have breakfast in bed, watch terrible movies... you know, all the usual relaxing stuff.”

You raised an eyebrow, amused by his enthusiasm. “Breakfast in bed every day, huh? That’s a bold claim.”

“I’m up for the challenge,” he grinned, a playful glint in his eyes. “I’m making the most of this time. No more rushing around, no more stress. Just time with you, our little one, and whatever chaos we manage to create together.”

He flopped down onto the couch beside you, pulling you in closer. His hand found its way to your growing belly, and he couldn’t wipe the smile off his face as he gently placed his hand there. “I’m so ready for this next chapter, you know? I know the last few months have been crazy, but this... this is going to be perfect.”

—-

Soft, neutral tones, sleek furniture that didn’t scream “baby” but still felt warm and inviting, and subtle touches of personality like a tiny McLaren-themed mobile hanging above the crib.

Lando stood in the middle of the nearly-finished nursery, hands on his hips, looking ridiculously proud of himself. The room was stunning.

“You know,” he said, turning to you with a grin, “I think I’ve outdone myself. Custom everything. No IKEA in sight. You’re welcome.”

“You do realize you’ve spent more on this room than most people spend on their entire house, right?”

You raised an eyebrow from where you were sitting on the plush nursery chair he’d insisted be upholstered with "only the softest fabric money can buy."

He scoffed, gesturing at the solid oak crib. “This bad boy? Handmade by some guy in Sweden who’s apparently a genius with wood. And the changing table? Designed by an actual ergonomist! No sore backs for us.”

He shot you a mock-offended look. “Excuse me for wanting the best for our baby. It’s called quality assurance.”

You tried to keep a straight face but couldn’t help laughing. “Lando, it’s a baby. They’re not going to care if their crib is custom-made or from IKEA. They’ll drool on it all the same.”

He gasped dramatically, clutching his chest. “Excuse me! Our baby deserves the best! The absolute best. I’m not about to put our kid in some flimsy crib where one tantrum could bring it down.”

“Pretty sure you’re the only one throwing tantrums right now,” you teased.

He ignored you, walking over to the rocking chair and giving it an experimental sway. “This chair, by the way? Perfect for late-night story time. I tested at least twenty before I found the one.”

“You sat in twenty rocking chairs?”

“Of course,” he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “What if I’d chosen one that squeaked or wasn’t comfy enough for cuddles? I’m thinking ahead, love.”

“Thinking ahead is spending three months’ salary on a nursery?”

“And it’s not just the furniture. Look at the details. That mobile? Custom order. The wallpaper? Hand-painted by some artist in Italy. Even the shelves are organized by height so the books will be easier to grab when the baby’s older. I’m not messing around.”

“Investment,” he corrected, plopping down beside you with a satisfied sigh.

You shook your head, still smiling. “It’s beautiful, Lando. Really. You’ve done an amazing job.”

“Of course I have,” he said smugly, leaning back. But after a moment, his expression softened. “I just… I want everything to be perfect, you know? For them. For you. I want this room to feel safe and special and like… like a little haven.”

Your heart melted as you reached out to take his hand. “It already does, babe. It’s perfect because you made it with love.”

“Also with a ridiculous amount of money,” he added, flashing you a cheeky grin.

You laughed. “That, too.”

Lando leaned down to kiss your forehead, his voice full of affection. “Anything for you two. Now, all that’s left is to teach the baby to say ‘McLaren’ before anything else.”

You laughed, pulling back to give him a playful shove. “Don’t push your luck.”

“Fine,” he said with a wink. “Second word, then.”

—-

When the day finally came, Lando was fresh off a meeting with his team, when your water broke in the middle of your living room.

“Now?” he yelped, nearly dropping the cup of tea he’d just handed you. His wide, panicked eyes darted between you and the puddle forming at your feet. “It’s happening now?”

“Yes, Lando, now!” you snapped, clutching your belly as another contraction hit.

He spun in circles for a moment, muttering to himself, “Keys, keys, where did I- oh, my God, this is happening.”

“Lando!” you barked, cutting through his panic.

“Yes, yes! Okay! Keys! Bag! You!” He grabbed the hospital bag you’d packed weeks ago, slung it over one shoulder, then hesitated. “Wait, do you need me to carry you? Should I-”

“Just get me to the car!”

In record time, he managed to get you into the passenger seat, though not without fumbling with your seatbelt for what felt like an eternity.

“I race cars for a living,” he muttered to himself, hands trembling as he buckled you in. “Why is this harder than a pit stop?”

“Because a pit stop doesn’t scream at you every five minutes,” you shot back, gripping the door handle as another contraction rippled through your body.

---

At the hospital, Lando was a walking ball of nerves. He practically burst into the maternity ward, announcing to the nurses, “My wife’s having a baby! Right now! Like, right now!”

One of the nurses calmly guided you to a room, giving Lando a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “First-time dad?” she asked with a knowing smile.

“Is it that obvious?” he mumbled, following behind like a lost puppy.

Inside the delivery room, Lando couldn’t sit still. He paced back and forth, running his hands through his hair. “Are they supposed to take this long? Shouldn’t someone check on her again? Is she okay? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Lando,” you groaned through clenched teeth. “But if you don’t stop pacing, I might strangle you before this baby gets here.”

He froze mid-step, holding his hands up in surrender. “Right. No pacing. Got it. I’ll just... stand here.”

Once he could actually think past his panic, Lando immediately whipped out his phone, his fingers fumbling over the screen as he dialed his parents. The phone barely rang once before his mom answered.

“Lando? Everything okay?” her voice was calm but laced with concern, likely from the sheer urgency of his call.

“Mum! She’s in labor!” Lando practically shouted into the phone, his words tumbling out at record speed. “Like, actual labor. Right now. We’re at the hospital. It’s happening!”

“Oh, Lando, that’s wonderful!” his mom exclaimed, her tone immediately switching to excitement. “How is she? How are you?”

“She’s... well, she’s in labor!” Lando replied, running a hand through his already tousled curls. “I think she’s fine, but I don’t know! She might be mad at me for pacing too much. I stopped though. Well, sort of. Anyway, can you and Dad get here? Like, now?”

“We’re on our way, love,” she reassured him with a laugh.

By the time his parents arrived, just minutes later, Lando’s initial excitement had given way to full-blown panic. He was sitting in the corner of the room, staring at his hands, muttering under his breath.

“Do you think the baby will like me? What if they don’t like me? What if I’m a terrible dad? Oh my God, I forgot to pack snacks! What kind of dad forgets snacks?”

His parents stepped into the room, his mom taking one look at him and immediately placing a hand on his shoulder. “Lando, breathe,” she said gently, her eyes crinkling with amusement.

He jumped up at their arrival, waving his hands around. “I can’t breathe, Mum! Do you know how much responsibility this is? I’m going to be someone’s dad! What if I drop the baby? What if I don’t hold them right? Or they cry every time they see me? I-”

His dad cut him off with a firm but comforting hand on his back. “You’re going to be fine, son. You’ve got this.”

Lando looked over at you, lying on the hospital bed, still managing to roll your eyes at his dramatics despite the situation. “Does she think I’ve got this?” he asked, gesturing to you.

You groaned, partly from the contraction and partly from his antics. “Lando, if you don’t stop spiraling, I’ll personally make sure you get kicked out of this delivery room.”

His mom laughed, stepping closer to you. “She’s got it under control, doesn’t she?”

“She always does,” Lando muttered, his wide eyes darting between you and the monitors. “But what if I’m not ready, Mum?” he whispered, leaning closer to his mother as if it were a secret.

His mom reached up, brushing a curl from his forehead. “You’ll be ready when you see your baby for the first time, Lando. Trust me. You’ve already proven you’ll do whatever it takes to be a great dad. Now stop worrying and be there for your wife.”

Lando nodded, taking a deep breath and straightening up. Then he turned to you with newfound determination. “Okay. What do you need, love? Water? Ice chips? A—”

“A calm husband,” you interrupted, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Right,” he said, nodding rapidly. “Calm husband. Got it.”

And for the next two minutes, he actually managed to stay calm. Until the nurse walked in and said, “Alright, it’s time to push.”

Then all bets were off.

---

When your son (your son!) finally arrived after hours of labor, the world seemed to pause. Lando stood frozen as one of the nurses handed him the tiny, swaddled baby. His hands shook as he cradled Leo against his chest, staring down at him in awe.

His aquamarine eyes were wide as he stared down at the newborn. “Wow,” he whispered, his voice shaky. “He’s... so small. Like, really small. Are we sure he’s okay?”

“Lando, he’s a baby,” you said, exasperated but smiling, the exhaustion hitting you in waves. “They’re supposed to be small.”

“Yeah, but this small?” he asked, carefully holding Leo as if he were made of glass. He glanced at the nurse for reassurance. “Is this normal? What if I break him?”

The nurse chuckled. “You won’t, Mr. Norris. Just make sure to support his head, and you’ll be fine.”

“Support his head,” Lando repeated, adjusting his grip like he was handling the most fragile trophy in the world. Then he looked down at your son again, a mixture of awe and terror on his face. “Hey, little guy,” he murmured. “It’s, uh... it’s me. Your dad. I’m new at this, so, uh, go easy on me, yeah?”

You laughed softly, despite the ache in your body. “He’s not going to grade you, Lando.”

“Good, because I’m already giving myself a D+,” he muttered, carefully sitting beside you on the hospital bed.

Lando looked up at you, his eyes glassy. “You did so good,” he said softly. “So, so good. Thank you for... for him.”

As the tiny bundle in his arm let out a tiny whimper, Lando instinctively rocked him, whispering, “Shh, mate, it’s okay. Daddy’s got you.”

“You’re a natural,” the nurse commented, smiling as she adjusted your blankets.

“Really?” Lando glanced up, his grin sheepish but full of pride. “Because I feel like I’m one wrong move away from dropping him.”

“You won’t,” you reassured him, reaching out to touch his arm. “You’re already amazing.”

He smiled, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. “You’re the amazing one. I mean, you just made a person. How insane is that?”

As he sat beside you, still holding him as if he were the most precious thing in the world.

You rested your head against his shoulder, watching as he studied every tiny feature of Leo’s face. “He’s got my eyes,” he murmured, awed.

“And your gap-toothed smile too, probably,” you teased.

He chuckled, brushing a fingertip gently over Leo’s tiny hand. “That’s not a bad thing. He’ll be unstoppable. Just wait until he sees his first go-kart.”

[fawninthesnow]

𝐍𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞: One Shot

𐙚 Emperor Geta x Empress Fem Reader! 𐙚 18+

Summary: Married to Emperor Geta, you decide to lift his spirits. (No plot smut.)

Warnings/contains: smut, fluff, mentions of violence, f4m, (somewhat) dom fem(?), male masturbation, oral (fem receiving), no aftercare, not proof read

Word Count: 1.3k

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The winds were strong on this day in the arena, the aim of the arrows shot by savage men were skewed. With every miss, the emperors groaned, and with every bloody wound, they cheered. From the large pits of fire beside the royal box, heat blew and fire blazed. A fighter, after a long duel, was put to death with a blade inside of his intestines. From your seat behind emperor Geta, you stood, holding your shawl over your arms.

**

You recall it like yesterday when you were informed by your parents that you would be the wife of a prince. Not just any prince, one of Rome.  “Father, he is younger than me. He will be irresponsible! Immature!” However, you knew what your job was. Marry him and they will spare your country. At the age of twenty-three, there was only one task left in this world for a royal daughter.

Along the long travel, you would bite into your bottom lip until it bled then healed. Repeatedly. The prince was described to you as immature and unruly by some. Deceitful and rough by others. However, that was every man at that age.

**

Later that evening.

Inside of the palace, you two sat across from each other. You read through a scroll as you were fanned. The emperor impatiently bounced his knee and his eyes on the door to his chambers. “He should be here by now.”

“Who?” You asked.

“You are not listening to me. My brother.” Your eyes lifted from the page, “What a nuisance!” As you tilted, your hair fell to the side.

You made your way to him, massaging his shoulders. “Why are you so tense? I am sure he meant no harm. He must be preoccupied.”

“You…have not touched me in a long time. A- and, now you mistaken my brother for an intentional man.” A soft chuckle left your lips as he whined, “Some days, I barely see you. Do you hide from me?”

“No, my love.”

“You do! I see you in the garden with the ladies of the court! I see you…everywhere it seems but not beside me.” Your fingers caressed his throat, his head tilted back.

“Have you shaven?” he shook his head; his red hair covered his eyes.

You sat by his side and held onto his neck with one hand. The other gently shaved down his face, taking the shaving soap along with it. When you were done, he wiped his face warm towel and tossed it elsewhere. Your fingers ran through his hair and moved his curls from his eyes. “Why did you leave during the games?”

“You know I do not like that violence. It is a masculine manner of expression. I am glad you enjoy it but…”

His smile was enough to make you content, “I guess. But when you leave,” Your hand reached around to his side, gently squeezing. Your lips pressed onto his ear as he settled into your hands. “It saddens me.”

“You cannot go everywhere I go, my love. I have duties and you have yours.” You hugged him, and he leaned his head against your bosom. “Please leave us.” You say to the servants as he nuzzled against your breasts. “Geta?” You asked as he pumped his cock beneath his clothes. He squeezed his shaft as he buried his face between. “Would you like help?” Your voice was sultry, and soft; his cheeks grew pink as the seconds passed.

Geta’s face scrunches as he was overwhelmed with sensation, biting his lower lip slightly as he fought for a hold of his breath. His mind goes elsewhere, as if he was reliving the experience.

Although his brother suggested concubines, you're the only one he wanted in this damn palace. The only woman that truly got to him.

When you both met, he was pleasantly surprised. You seemed to have such a kind, caring and nurturing side to you. Not many women would just say that she’ll be patient and understanding to a young man who has never experienced any kind of romance or intimacy. It was a dream come true for him.

Geta kept his chin to your chest when he spoke again. “T- thank you.”

“I love you, Geta.” He smiled and looked into your eyes. His expression was soft, his usual puppy eyes returning. He could sense how much you cared for him, just in the way you spoke to him. “I never want you to feel unwanted.”

“[Y/n]…” The feeling of your body pressed up against his was so euphoric, he'd missed feeling you like this.

You gently kiss his forehead and press your lips against the top of his head. He started to pump his fist around his cock again as you watched. He gently presses his lips along your jaw and neck, leaving several soft kisses along the flesh as he holds you close. His mouth wanders your neck for a few moments before planting another deep kiss on your lips. He held your face and pulled his close, moaning softly as you two shared a passionate kiss that grew heated in a matter of seconds.

He gently wraps his hand around your body, pulling you in closer and giving you a deep and passionate kiss, full of desire and need. He moaned as he felt your body pressed up against his, his skin heating up from the contact. “Make love to me, [Y/n].” He pants softly against your neck, his voice slightly breathy as he places more kisses along the sensitive flesh. He gently grabs your hips and pulls you in closer, so that your body was pressed up tightly against his own. He moans into your skin, desperately craving the feel of you. You tore the clothes from his body, panting into his mouth.

He pulls you close against him; a hand on the back of your knee as he positions himself between your hips.

When he sunk inside of your tight cunt, his eyelids twitched with need. Your hands held onto his face; you enjoyed the looks on his face when you both were intimate.

You kept your legs frayed as Geta fucked you into the pillows; Your thighs twitched, and you scratched the soft pillows behind you. “M- my love.” He gripped your wrists, feeling the strain of your pussy around his cock with every stroke and buck of his hips. He continued to hold himself up, sweat ran down his face; the sight of you beneath him. Your head fell back into the pillows; that expression was one that was earned. He was lost in the way your chest bounce and your eyes roll back. He stroked deeper, slowing the movement. You trembled at his actions; your fingertips drew him close against you. He grinds against your body as your moans echoed throughout the chamber. “Stay right there,” you said through breathless pants, a desperate need in your eyes.

He groaned; wetness seemed to coat his cock and, on his balls, the longer they fucked. “Dammit.” You stiffened, orgasming on his cock. Your hand gripped his throat as your back raised and arched. He lovingly suckled on your neck before continuing his deep strokes inside your snatch. “I- I cannot…last very much longer.” He whimpered into your ear. You caressed his head as he came inside of your pussy. He moaned, his arms gave up from under him and he lay on you; You kissed his lips as he pulled out of your cunt.

 You guide his head lower. He buried his face between your thighs. Geta slowly spreads your pussy with his fingers, dragging his middle finger down your labia. He admired his cum as it slid down to your asshole. “Fuck. I’m so lucky.” He kissed your inner thighs, taking his time. “I want you to ride my face after this.” You weakly moaned, closing your thighs around his head. He suckles on your sensitive clitoris as his middle fingers circled your opening. Your eyelids fluttered as your hips bucked on his face. He kissed your pussy a few times, gently stroking the clitoris.

Something quick while I finish up some requests!! <3

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[milkteabinniechan]

♡Knight To Remember - Seungmin

MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY MEMBERSHIP//M.LIST

pairing: knight! Seungmin x princess! reader

summary: Your parents set up a competition for all the knights in the kingdom and said whoever wins it wins your hand. Your childhood enemy has entered just to piss you off but what happens when he unexpectedly wins?

warnings: hurt/comfort, angst, tooth-aching fluff

Knights and noblemen from the entire kingdom had made an appearance. They had trained, bartered and bought their way into this competition. All for your hand in marriage. It wasn't that they were after. This long line of eligible men weren't your true loves. When they looked at you, they saw the crown. A shining symbol of money and power. Marrying you was just a technicality. An added responsibility they each of them would ignore the moment the wedding ceremony was finished. You would rot away in that castle just as your mother had. And there wasn't a thing you could do about it.

The first pairing stepped forward. An experienced knight that everyone knew by name. The crowd roared and cheered him on and he soaked up every moment. His opponent matched him in size but not popularity. The match was over in a few moments with Mr. Popular coming out the victor. “Who's next?” He shouted, his confidence growing by the second.

Some of the other knights instinctively stepped backwards, not wanting to risk the almost certain humiliation of going against such a distinguished knight. You sighed heavily as you watched the other men look around at each other, unsure what to do.

“I'll take you on, big guy.” A voice rang from the crowd with a familiar tone. You leaned over your balcony to see him, Seungmin, stepping into the ring. His gloved hand gripped tight around the handle of his sword and he moved his feet into practiced positioning.

Seungmin was exceptionally skilled as he was irrefutably stubborn. He had been asked by many to join their individual cause and help them fight, but Seungmin always brushed them off. Must have enjoyed the company of free drink and free women more than fighting for his kingdom. What a pig. You turned your nose and your back as Seungmin readied himself. But you still peered over your shoulder still, figuring it would give you some sort of entertainment to see him get his ass kicked.

Seungmin raised his sword in proper knightsmen etiquette, signaling that he was ready to begin. Mr. Popular stepped forward as well. He was noticeably taller than Seungmin. “Are you sure? I don't want to embarrass you in front of such a beautiful princess.” The knight boomed, gesturing to you in the balcony above the arena. Seungmin turned his head towards you and smiled. A smile you knew all too well. A smile that promised more mischief was to come. He bowed to you like a gentleman. You rolled your eyes in response. “Ready when you are.” Seungmin said, addressing the knight. Although his eyes never left yours as he spoke.

“It's not like I killed him.” Seungmin laughed as he pulled off his remaining armor. You stood together in your father's study. The entire kingdom was already filling up the castle with cheers of congratulations. The halls were echoing with Seungmin's name. In a panic, you pulled him in here to try to get an explanation out of him. “Do you realize what you've just done?” You were searing with anger. Seungmin moved to a small shelf with a bottle and some glasses and poured himself a drink. “Of course I realize it.”

You groaned in frustration as he moved casually. “You really do hate me, don't you?” You snapped. Seungmin sat across from you in a lounge chair that was almost always reserved for your father. He swirled a glass of wine, his long fingers clinging to the rim. A slow smirk spread across his lips.

“Is that what you think? That I hate you?” He said finally, standing up from the chair and making his way to you. He closed the gap between the two of you almost instantly. Like he was impatient now. Like waiting any longer to touch you was no longer an option.

Your body reacted immediately, stepping away from him and inching closer to the wall behind you. “Yes, that's what I think.” You whispered. Your voice was breathier now, like Seungmin had willed the air out of the room. His armor was gone now. But more than the iron helmet and the steel plates that he carried heavy while he battled. He was stripped away now. His broad shoulders and muscular arms filled the tunic that billowed and swayed as he moved. He looked vulnerable. Like the boy that threw rocks at your window in the middle of the night to tell you to sneak out. The boy who picked on you when you wore your fanciest dress. The boy that pulled your hair and ran away. “I don't hate you,” his eyes were hooded and dark. His pupils dilated from the dim lighting of the candles. “If I hated you, I would've let one of those fucking pricks win.” He took a long sip of his wine. His eyes stayed locked onto yours. “What do you mean?” You tilted your head, genuinely taken back by his response.

“Do you really think I'd let one of those entitled assholes marry you? Do you think they care about you? Do they know your favorite food? Or how you sneak desserts from the kitchen before dinner is served? Or that you are terrified of thunderstorms? No. And they will never care to learn those things. I can't leave your happiness up to someone else. That is my responsibility.”

Your breath was short and shallow like you needed to cry, or scream, or run away. “Your responsibility?” You snapped back, unsure of what you were feeling anymore.

“That's right,” Seungmin brought his hand up to your chin, gripping it firmly so you would really hear him this time. “ You're my responsibility.”

You wanted to push him backwards, scream that you are no one's responsibility. You wanted to tell him that you don't need anyone for anything… but your heart pushed past your head and grabbed the steering wheel, aiming you directly into his arms. Your hands cupped his face and pulled him into a deep, longing kiss. A kiss that started hard and desperate but then slowly turned into something more delicate and soft. His mouth would move into yours and your lips would respond the same. His hands made their way through your hair, down your neck and finally rested on your hips. Every breath you took mingled with him. The kiss never breaking in fear that this was all a dream and the moment you stopped you'd awake in your bed married to someone entitled asshole.

Seungmin grabbed you by the back of your thighs and pulled you up and around him. He held you so close to his chest you could feel his heart beating. His lips moved down from your mouth and lined your jawline and neck. Soft pecks gave way to hungry bites. Smooth caressing of his fingers gave way to impatient scratching and pulling. You reflexively rut your hips into him, the clothes between you seemingly like the worst torture imaginable.

“Where's Seungmin? I have to congratulate my new son-in-law!” Your father demanded from another room. You pulled back and in an instant so did Seungmin. He continued to hold you, your foreheads pressed against each other as you both attempted to slow your breathing back to normal. Your eyes flickered up to his and with a smile he knew what you wanted to say. He knew you and you were his now. His princess. His responsibility.

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[bewaryofpity]

MERRY CHRISTMAS, I MISS YOU - N. HISCHIER

[6.7k] when you received a call from your ex on christmas eve, the last thing you wanted to do was to pretend you're still together in front of his parents.

warnings: 18+, exes to lovers, angst but not really, fluff, unprotected p in v (wrap it up !), creampie, oral both f and m receiving, slightly unedited, if i missed anything pls let me know

a/n: i have no idea what this is lol, i did lose the plot at some point so the ending i planned didn’t make it and so didn’t the title, anyhow i think it’s best this way. i hope you all enjoy ! feedback is greatly appreciated ♡

A year had passed, it was December again and Nico had done nothing if not being stuck with the same feeling of missing you. Almost an entire year of no contact, apart from a few congrats texts for your occasional achievements, and yet there he was staring at his phone for the third time tonight, his thumb hovering over your name. 

Nico was no coward, he needed to keep his head on his shoulders for his line of work, but he was certainly trying to find any excuse to keep him from calling you. Almost one year of convincing himself that he moved on, that he was content with how your relationship has ended, just for all that progress to crumble at his feet because he was, actually, a coward. 

But this wasn’t just about him. His parents were in town for Christmas for the first time in years, excited to finally spend the holidays in New Jersey with his son. And they expected you to be there. He hadn’t told them you two broke up, though. He couldn’t. He was never able to break the news to his mom who considered you as her daughter, and he had to pay the price now.

With a heavy sigh, Nico pressed call. He immediately started to regret calling, cringing at the idea of a missed call on your phone if he hung up now, when the ringing stopped.

“Hello?” You said, voice coated with slight confusion. Nico felt a punch to the chest at the sound of your voice, all at once familiar and foreign.

“Hey, it’s me.” Nico’s voice faltered.

“I know.” You promptly utter. Silence fell on the line.

“It’s been a while, I know,” Nico mumbled “but I need a favor.” You hummed as an acknowledgement for him to keep speaking. 

“My parents are in town for Christmas and they expect to see you.”

“I don’t see why they—”

“I never told them.”

Nico was almost sure you hung up for how quiet you became. His heart drumming in his chest was making him more helpless than he already was, unable to come up with something else to say. 

His phone sat heavy on his hand when he heard you take a deep breath. A nervous laugh escaped your mouth, what the hell whispered in between. 

“You’ve had all this time to tell them we broke up, what were you waiting for?” Your voice lacked judgment. 

“I know I messed up,” he said, desperation creeping into his voice. “But they’re here now, and I—I didn’t know how to tell them. It’s Christmas tomorrow, Y/N. They’re so excited to see you. I just need you to come tonight or tomorrow. Please.”

“Nico—”

“It’s just one dinner. Then you’ll never have to hear from me again. I swear. If not for me, do it for them at least.”

He could almost see your furrowed eyebrows and the silence on the line was suffocating him again. Your calm breathing was making his chest tight, not ready to brace for rejection.

“Okay.”

He took a long exhale, “thank you.” He spoke softly, a small smile painting his lips.

Before he had the chance to speak up, you had already hung up. Nico sat back, his head tipping against the edge of the couch, eyes staring blankly at the ceiling while bringing his arm down with a thud. Your voice still echoed in his ears, each word carving a hollow space in his chest. Your voice was as warm as he remembered, yet so flat.

Y/N: spare key still under the mat? i’m coming after work, not sure about tomorrow.

Nico’s phone vibrated in his hand, your text’s preview giving him some reassurance.

Nico: yes Nico: and thank you

He pushed himself off the couch, his body feeling heavy. It wasn’t long before he had to go and pick up his parents from the airport. He absentmindedly picked up his car keys and walked out to his car.

It was supposed to be simple. A call, a favor, a dinner. But he has been clinging to the idea of you, of what you used to be, that he now felt like facing the consequences of his own actions instead of dragging you back into his life would have been a much better idea. 

Nico didn’t realize the drive, the pick up, and the drive back to his apartment had already happened. Tension began coiling in his chest, the heavy weight he kept feeling for days now coming back.

He didn’t want to see you, actually. Or maybe he did. His mind was bringing him back to the night you both had reluctantly agreed that a break up was needed. It was no secret to you that he didn’t want to break up, he told you then. He wasn’t happy, he felt like dying for the most part. He couldn’t sleep, let alone leave his apartment if not for practice and games. But that was what you wanted and he gave it to you.

“You okay in there, kid?” His dad’s call out echoed from the living room, bringing him back to reality. 

“Yeah, I just needed water.” Nico called back. When he turned around to join them in the living room, he was met with his mom leaning on the kitchen doorway. With eyes wide, he gave her a tight lipped smile, hoping she won’t question his behavior. I’m fine wouldn’t have been enough for her, she could always see right through him, and even if Nico told her the truth it probably wouldn’t have made him feel any better.

Before she could say something, the front door opened and his mom jumped to see you, forgetting about his son, and Nico stayed there with goosebumps forming on his arms, hot and cold shivers running down his spine. 

Upon entering you heard a brief silence. You didn’t even register that his mom was right there that she already jogged to bring you in her arms. You were frozen in your space for a second, unsure of what to do. The last time you’d seen each other was the summer Nico brought you to Switzerland where everything felt so right. Yet here you were. You missed her, that was true; she reached out to you a few times, and despite knowing it was out of the kindness of her heart, you couldn’t help but think of how many excuses Nico threw at her for your not being around. How he lied to his mom for all this time was something you couldn’t comprehend.

“Oh, it’s so good to see you, sweetheart!” She cheered, parting slightly from the hug and giving your shoulders a comforting squeeze.

“Hi, Mrs. Hischier.”

“Please, how many times do I have to tell you to just call me Katja.” She waved you off and you smiled. His dad followed, giving you a simple side hug.

As his parents continued fussing over you, Nico finally moved to the living room to watch the scene unfold. You stood in his apartment again and it felt like you never left. You were beautiful and you had those rosy cheeks you would get from the cold wind of Jersey that Nico loved so much. The ache in his chest grew and it was getting hard to resist the tears that kept forming in his eyes since this morning.

When you made eye contact with Nico it was like someone punched you in the chest. His brown eyes were glossy, wide like a deer in headlights. He didn’t shave, not that he did often, but it looked less kept than it usually was.

You reluctantly stepped towards him, gaze focused on his chest and that’s when you saw his left hand twitch in your direction before he brought it back down. It completely left your mind that you couldn’t keep your distance from him now with his parents here. Though the moments you two kissed in front of family were almost nonexistent, Nico was always the kind of guy to keep you close within arm reach, so no physical contact would be odd.

So you did the most natural thing you could do. You gave him a hug. Your skin was burning where he was touching you. It felt like that night again and you wanted to disappear. You felt his heart rapidly thumping in his chest, or maybe it was yours. It didn’t really matter. Nico looked at his mom before he looked down at you. He was getting overwhelmed with the amount of times he almost cried only today and prayed for the day to come to an end sooner.

“Hey.” Your voice was small, audible only to him. He replied with an equally small hey, throat dry. Silence stretched between you and you could feel the tension on your skin. A small part of you couldn’t part ways as you inhaled his scent. The warmth from his chest was seeping through his hoodie and you wished you could just stay there a little longer.

You barely drew back when Katja put a hand on your shoulder and brought you back into her with a side hug. 

“Come, sit. Let me catch you up while we eat. I’ll show you some pictures from this summer, it was a shame you couldn’t come to Switzerland this time.”

You casted a glance at Nico which he avoided. You barely registered Katja’s words as she scrolled through her phone for you and all you could think of was how she deserved to know. She looked so happy sharing these memories with you, as though you still belonged here, and it wasn’t her fault that she believed so. 

“Next time, you have to come. We missed you so much.”

“I know, I’m sorry.”

You swallowed hard, forcing another smile. Nico shifted in his chair beside you, his hand reaching for his water but his posture was rigid. He didn’t say a word, you could feel the tension radiating off him silently acknowledging the lie hanging in the air. A part of you wanted to say something, to clear the air, because his mom was kind, but it wasn’t for you to deal with. It wasn’t you that lied.

The pizza in front of you looked unpleasant as the ache in your stomach made you more nauseous. 

*

You wanted to go home. Nico’s parents called it a night early blaming it on jet lag and that tomorrow is gonna be a big day, his father said.

You were left alone with Nico in the living room, neither of you were saying anything. You were just staring ahead paying no mind to whatever Christmas movie was left playing softly on the TV.

It was awkward. You put yourself in this situation because you missed Nico, truthfully. When he called you this morning you weren’t really thinking of what was best for you, you just wanted an excuse to come back to him. Selfish as it was. It was rather hypocritical that you craved his presence again after you were the one to propose the break up. But you spent two years together so your whole life consisted of him. He was everywhere, your apartment smelled like him even months after he left, things he left behind that both of you have forgotten about were lingering in a corner in your closet. It took time letting him go from your mind, but you were here and it felt so wrong. The look he gave you when you parted from your hug earlier made you feel so guilty.

“I’ll sleep here, you can take the bed.” Nico said softly, voice above a whisper. You startled anyway, jerking your head in his direction. You had told him earlier that to not raise any suspicion with his parents, you would spend the night here.

“It’s your bed.” You replied with the same tone. He looked at you now, his brown eyes glowing in the dim light emanating from the TV. You couldn’t take the bed, it would smell like him and you could endure it only so much before going crazy. 

“It doesn't matter.”

“What are you gonna tell them when they find you here in the morning?” He didn’t answer, instead he brought his focus back to the TV. Were you going to regret this? Probably. “Just come to bed with me, Nico.”

Avoiding his gaze, you slowly began walking towards his room, your feet moving on their own accord. Everything was left the same. The pit in your stomach grew tighter when you pushed the door to his room open and blindly reached for the lamp on the nightstand. The patter of Nico’s feet grew louder until he reached his bedroom’s doorway.

“There’s still some clothes you left here.” He motioned to the dresser next to him. You hummed in response and as he rummaged through one of the drawers, you stood by the bed like you couldn't move. Idiot. If you weren't staring at him so intensely you would've missed how shaky his hands were when he reached for you to grab at your clothes. You peered up for a second, his gaze focused on the clothes in his hand heavy.

“I’ll–”

“Yeah.”

The bathroom door clicked shut behind you, your forehead coming to rest on it. He was beautiful. And he made your heart warm like he always knew how to. But he wasn’t the Nico you always knew, you could see it in his eyes. Fear started pooling in your stomach. Was it your doing? You avoided the mirror in front of you completely.

After hastily changing and brushing your teeth, you joined him back into the room. He was already under the covers, on his usual side, front facing the window. You quietly got under the blanket too and laid close to the end of the bed staring at the ceiling. The hum of the heater filled the silence, yet the weight of unspoken words pressed down on your heart.

“Never thought you’d say yes.”

You took your time to respond and kept staring at the white ceiling illuminated by the moonlight coming through the curtains’ gap.

“Why?”

The rustling of the covers filled the silence as Nico shifted slightly. 

“You made it seem like you wanted nothing to do with me anymore.”

“I don’t regret you, Nico.”

“I never said you did.”

You exhaled sharply. The weight of the duvet became unbearable, and with a swift motion you shoved it off, pooling in your lap; arms followed with a dull thud, slamming onto the bunched-up duvet. The cold air nipped at your exposed burning skin.

“Talk to me.” You breathed. Nico didn't move and you were growing frustrated. “Do you regret it?”

“Being with you? Sometimes. I made many mistakes and you were always there for me and I took that for granted. I pushed you away when you needed me most, and by the time I realized it, it was too late. I know you deserve so much better but deep down, I wish we didn't end that night, we just stay there and talk it out.”

“I think that maybe I would always let you come back” he said softly, almost inaudibly, “not that I waited for you, exactly. But when I called you this morning and you agreed, I had the tiniest hope that things could change. If you came, and at the end of the night told me you still loved me and asked me to be yours again… I'm not sure there’s anything in the world I wouldn't have done for that to really happen.”

Shuffling towards the middle of the bed, your hand reached for him to comb through his hair, his body jumping a little at the unexpected contact. He shifted a little to get closer to you and turned around to face you.

“You’re awful.”

“What?”

“Don’t say things like that,” you said, your voice low and strained. “Not when we’re lying here like this. I didn’t leave because I stopped loving you, Nico, I left because I didn’t recognize us anymore. You were indifferent, coming home upset and angry more often than not all because of your job. I could’ve respected that, I would’ve listened to you if you opened up to me. But you didn’t talk to me anymore and I didn’t know what to do with you, it’s like you were holding a knife to my chest and slowly pushing it deeper until you reached my heart. It got to a point where I dreamed of you asking me questions, talking to me, desiring me like you always did. Then I’d open my eyes and you're someone different.”

“Maybe in another lifetime we will find each other at the right time. Maybe we end up like this in each one, but I like to believe there is at least one where we deserve each other. I just don't think it’s this one.”

Your hand never stopped caressing through his hair. It didn’t take long for a stray tear to fall from your eye just as Nico closed his eyes to avoid his own spilling over the pillow with no avail. You halted your movements to bring your thumb under his eye and wipe at the loose tears. He didn’t say anything else, and neither did you. Nico grabbed at the covers you bunched up earlier to cover you again.

You shifted slightly, the duvet brushing against your arm as your body relaxed fully into the mattress. You felt his warmth beside you — steady and grounding. The minutes dragged on, and eventually both of your breathing slowed, evening out into sleep. 

*

It was early in the morning when Nico woke up. The sunrise barely peeked through the curtains, casting a soft glow over his bed. It took him a while to realize that it wasn’t his duvet weighing on his chest, it was you. Your face was mushed and lips pouty, his right arm wrapped around you securely. You looked like an angel.

He didn’t have it in his heart to wake you up. Instead, his gaze lingered on your peaceful expression, focused on the soft rise and fall of your breaths that tickled his skin, a steady rhythm that made his chest ache. His thumb brushed against your shoulder lightly, a barely-there touch because it all felt like a dream and he didn’t want it to end. He sighed softly, tilting his head back against the pillow and closing his eyes again. The weight of your body lulled him back to sleep, the hold on you loosening slightly but never letting go.

Moments later, the morning light shining on your eyes stirred you awake, and you couldn’t help but blink groggily. The warmth surrounding you was so comforting that you couldn’t resist burying your face into it and that’s when your heart began to race. Nico’s face was so close you only needed to make the slightest movement before his lips would graze your forehead; his features relaxed and peaceful in his sleep. The stubble on his jaw caught the morning glow, and the soft strands of his hair brushed against his forehead.

Every instinct screamed at you to move, to untangle yourself from the undeniable comfort of being close to him again, but the minutes passed and the blush on your cheeks deepened with every second you lingered. When it became too much to bear, slowly, carefully, you slid out from under his arm, your movements cautious to avoid waking him. 

Your feet hit the cool floor and the blush now burning like wildfire across your cheeks while you tiptoed to the kitchen, closing the door gently behind you. The conversation with Nico kept replaying in your head, or rather the fact that he was crying, and Nico never cried in front of you unless they were happy tears. 

You relished in his touch. The feeling of his stubble on your hands was something you never thought you’d miss, yet the rough texture was rather comforting. And then this morning when his lips have probably grazed your skin in your sleep at least once, you wished you were conscious to savor it like you actually didn't deserve. 

“Huh?”

“I said good morning and merry Christmas.” Katja smiled brightly at you, Rino mirroring her action while also raising his coffee cup. You looked ridiculous still in your rumpled makeshift pajamas and your face still flushed from the morning’s events. 

“Oh, merry Christmas.” You offered a small smile as you moved to pour yourself some coffee, hyper aware of their presence. Despite the blush painting your cheeks, you started to feel cold. The t-shirt Nico gave you was thin, an old band shirt you left behind, but the pants were scrunched at your feet. He didn’t notice they were actually his yesterday, they were always yours to wear anyway.

“You’re up early,” Katja remarked, setting her coffee cup on the table. “I thought for sure you two would sleep in after staying up so late talking.”

Your hand froze mid-reach, “yeah, just couldn’t sleep much.” You replied, hoping your tone was casual enough.

She gave you a look but said nothing, her warm demeanor unchanging though she definitely knew something was off. Did she actually hear what you said yesterday night? The walls couldn’t be that thin, right? The sound of footsteps from the hallway behind you woke you up a little, and you didn’t need to turn around to know it was Nico.

“Morning,” he said, his voice gravelly from sleep. You turned slightly, catching sight of him leaning against the counter next to you. His brown hair was disheveled and his shirt slightly wrinkled, but his expression was almost unreadable. If you didn’t know otherwise, you would’ve mistaken his slightly puffy eyes for sleepiness.

His gaze lingered on the ground for a moment, and then he tilted his head up, noticing the way you had wrapped your free arm around yourself. Before you could protest, Nico walked out of the kitchen. Katja glanced at you confused after he barely acknowledged her or Rino.

“Here,” he said, holding his black hoodie from yesterday out to you. It was your favorite, the one that was so fuzzy inside it felt like a blanket and the one he would leave behind for you when he left for road trips. You blinked, momentarily stunned by the gesture. 

“Oh, I’m fine—”

“You’re shivering.” He interrupted, his voice firm but gentle. His gaze met yours and reluctantly you took the hoodie, your fingers brushing his briefly as you did.

“Thanks.” You mumbled, slipping it over your head. The warmth was immediate, just like the familiar trace of his scent as it filled your senses. What made it impossible to bear was Nico leaning over just slightly to press a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead. Blush be damned.

Nico moved around the kitchen to pour himself some coffee as you caught the faintest hint of a smirk on Katja’s face. As she walked past to place her now empty cup in the sink, she leaned close to you with the same sly smile still playing on her lips.

“We’re not gonna let Nico cook alone later, right?”

*

The day went by fast and dinner was long done. The unavoidable intimacy seemed to dissipate the cold demeanor you had opted for yesterday when you arrived, just as Nico started to look less dejected. Letting him back in your life wouldn’t be that bad, after all, you did drop everything to be here with him. You still loved him, just like he did you, but you couldn’t accept coming back to Nico after all this pain you left him with.

“What happened between you and Nico?”

The question made you falter, almost dropping the already slippery plate in your hands. There was no you and Nico anymore. Whatever happened between you two didn’t matter anymore as now none of it made sense. It was your mistake all along, the break up. Because if it wasn’t for a bad day at work for the both of you, you wouldn’t have fought and none of this would have happened.

“Why?”

“You two seem off.”

You wanted out of the relationship for your own sake, yet you didn’t realize how much you were hurting until yesterday. The no escaping his touch or his gaze made your head dizzy because it took you months before you convinced yourself that you were fine without him, and now that Nico was gentle to you even in the mess he created that he so wanted to disappear from, your newfound façade was long gone.

“Nothing. Our schedules clashed often and we didn't have much time for ourselves.”

Part of it was true if you thought back to last year. With Nico constantly on road trips and his team not playing their best, and your job keeping you away from him, the only time you saw each other was during nighttime. And with both of you exhausted there wasn’t much to say without striking a nerve.

Katja leaned her hip on the counter, leaning slightly to try to read your expression, your eyebrows furrowed as you kept scrubbing the same plate over and over again. 

You didn’t notice Nico lingering by the door until his mom placed a hand on your shoulder. You turned around in his direction as she walked past him with a good night under her breath, just as Nico came to stand in her previous spot.

“How long have you been standing there?” 

“Long enough to tell you that that plate is clean enough.”

You handed him the last plate with a sigh and as you waited for him to dry it, you couldn’t help but stare at his faint smile. Before you could stop yourself, your hand reached for his cheek, brushing at the small new scar there. His movements hesitated for a moment before turning to face you, your hand dropping slightly at the action. You almost missed the way his gaze dropped to your lips for a split second before looking back into your eyes.

Maybe it was the wine you both drank earlier or maybe it was meant to happen. Nico leaned down, cupping your face to kiss you. It was gentle, a bit hesitant, almost as if he was giving you space to pull away. But you didn’t, not even if your brain told you so.

He pulled away, lips still brushing yours and his eyes closed. You missed his lips on yours, so soft and tender just as you remembered and desperately wished to feel again.

“I’m sor—“

You didn’t let him finish as you put your lips back on his, hands making their way from his chest to wrap around his neck. You were desperate for more, fearing that the moment would end too soon, but Nico squeezed your hip a little to ground you. He wasn’t going anywhere.

His tongue brushed your lips and you let him in. A small moan escaped his mouth and you couldn’t help but feed into it. A faint taste of wine still lingered on his tongue, sweetness clouding your thoughts.

“Please tell me to stop”

“No, don’t stop.”

Both of his hands trailed their way around your body, eager to feel every curve of your body again. He needed to feel you, keep his hands on you to ground himself because he was scared this actually never happened and it was just a sick joke his mind was playing.

As the kiss grew more sloppy and hands roaming with no set purpose, Nico held you impossibly closer to him, his body heat burning against your skin. He held tightly onto your waist, murmuring a small jump against your lips as he hoisted you up the counter, legs instinctively wrapping around his lower back.

The overwhelming feeling of it all almost made you cry. It was tender, yet the way your lips moved set a different pace.

“Take me to bed, Nico.”

He gently pushed away strands of hair that had fallen in front of your eyes before his hand rested on your cheek. “We don’t have to, we can stop now and it’ll all be okay.”

“I need you to make love to me.” And Nico grabbed at your thighs, keeping you tight against his chest as he walked to his bedroom. You didn’t have to tell him twice, he just wanted to give you space in case this was too much.

He laid you gently on the bed and kissed you again, fervor replaced by love. He pecked your lips before pressing another kiss to your cheek.

“You’re so beautiful.” He said as one of his hands traveled up your hoodie, leaving a tingling trail where he had touched you, while the other one gave him support by your head.

You brought his lips back on yours, thumbs tracing every curve of his cheeks. Beard tickling your skin, his plush lower lip found its way between yours, and he allowed his mouth to smile against yours for the first time today. You were lost in the feeling of him, and so was him with yours, lips brushing as though this was the lifetime in which you were meant for each other. 

What you once knew as love filled both of your hearts again. This wasn’t fair. His hands on you, his lips on you, you in his bed. It wasn’t fair because you broke his heart, just as you broke your own.

“Take my hoodie off.” You whispered and he obliged. Nico’s nose skimmed along your neck, delighting himself in the way your skin felt along the warmth of his own. And he allowed himself to slide down to trace the skin of your collarbone, then kissing along the ridges of your ribs and allowing himself to drown once more in you.

As his lips reached your hips, he looked up at you smiling so sweetly, a sort of reassurance painting your face. He slid your jeans off before he brought himself up to you, reveling in the feeling of your chest meeting his own with every heaving breath. The soft lace of your bra brushed his chest, catching the curves and edges of his skin.

It had been too long since you’d felt his touch —or anyone’s for that matter— so the touch of his hands against your skin was enough to fuel the pulsing ache between your legs. 

You took his hand in yours, placing a kiss on the center of his palm before slowly guiding his hand down to your center. And Nico never stopped looking at you, not even when the feeling of the damp fabric as he slid a finger over your clothed slit made a groan escape his lips.

He left a trail of open-mouthed kisses on his way back to your thighs, discarding your bra in the process. You whined when he nipped his teeth against the sensitive skin of your thigh, and you whined again at the soft brush of his mustache on the same spot.

Gently pushing your panties aside, Nico stroked two fingers along your now-bare slit, heat rushing to his cheeks at the way your hips involuntarily rolled into him, chest heaving at his touch. 

“Is this okay?” You nodded in response and he didn’t wait much before dipping into your core. With a gentle grip, he pushed your thighs apart, kissing your folds before licking a long stripe over them. 

And Nico was in heaven as you squirmed under his touch, reveling in the feeling of your warm thighs caging his head as soft moans escaped your mouth. The scratch of his beard sent jolts down your spine and when he added a finger inside of you, you couldn’t help the buckle of your hips against his mouth.

Your hand busied through his hair, fingers tugging at his roots gently and the vibrations from his groans against your clit sent you overwhelming waves of pleasure. You sounded like an angel to his ears and Nico had to roll his hips onto the bed sheets to soothe himself just a little bit.

“Please give it to me, baby.” Nico murmured against your core as he added another finger.

And you dared to look down at him, so concentrated in getting a taste of you, gently and slowly because he missed this and his body yearned for a taste of you like a drug.

The feeling of his fingers curling inside of you in the right spots and his tongue applying pressure on your clit were enough for the air to leave your lungs. With a moan, slightly too loud, you came on his fingers and Nico held you against him to catch every single drop of your release.

“You taste so sweet, baby.”

Baby. You opened your eyes to see his cheeks red, your arousal coating his chin and he’s looking at you like you hung the moon through hazy eyes. It didn’t come as a surprise to you when a tear fell from your eyes, and soon you couldn’t stop them from running down your cheeks.

He kissed his way up to you with a sort of urgency to cradle your face in his hands. And the tears didn’t stop when he tried to kiss them away.

“I’m right here, you’re okay.”

“I love you. I’m sorry.”

It was the only thing you could say, really, unsure whether the apology was directed to yourself or him. But it didn’t really matter because he was here now, in your arms, sensitive and tender as ever. 

“Nico”

“Mh?” His face mere inches away from yours, noses and lips brushing.

“Let me take care of you.”

Nico would have told you no, because he didn’t need your mouth to show him you still loved him, your words were more than enough to him. But your hands moved from his shoulders down to his chest, stopping right at his heart and he knew you could feel his heart racing up. 

So he let you guide him on his back as you shifted on top of him, straddling his thighs before kissing your way down. You mouthed at the skin on his neck, focusing on sucking at the pulsing point connecting at his shoulder.

His abs clenched under the touch of your hands and a staggered breath left his lips when your face reached the band of his boxers. You kissed around his hips, delicate fingers tracing up and down his thighs as you teased his tip over his boxers with a kiss, causing it to jump under your touch. You noticed a small damp spot and you smiled, pulling down his boxers agonizingly slow. Eager as he has always been with you, you knew it took every ounce of control for him not to lose himself then.

You brought your hand to the base of his cock, his breath hitching as you pumped him slowly, and squeezing just slightly to milk precum out of his tip. You followed the vein from the base to his tip with your tongue as your thumb pressed over the leaking slit, hips jumping at your touch.

“Please don’t tease me.” He whined under his breath, watching as you brought your thumb to your lips. And how could you say no to that?

You parted your lips to suck at his tip, sinking down until you reached his base and Nico shivered underneath you at the contact with the back of your throat. Your mouth continued to work around him, and he whimpered as you flatten your tongue to take more of him into your mouth. And he was drowning in pleasure as you used one of your hands to wrap around what you couldn’t take in your mouth as the other gripped at his thigh.

You made eye contact with him when his right hand caressed through your hair and you moaned around him, a few strands of his hair sticking to his forehead and chest flushed. You felt his cock twitch inside of you and you knew he was close. He was in such a haze he almost missed that a few more strokes of your tongue would’ve made him come, and he didn’t want that. He wanted to relish in the feeling of your walls for that.

A soft stop left his lips just as his hand carefully pulled at your hair to get you off him. And the sight of you, lips parted and wet and subtly swollen, weren’t helping his cause.

He shifted his weight onto his elbow, other hand cradling your face to pull you in for a chaste kiss. 

“Let me be yours.”

“You’ve always been.”

With his head on your shoulder, he gently pushed you down onto your back. Nico lifted himself to his knees, sliding his boxers down his legs and slipping out of them before hovering you again and removing your panties. His forehead came to rest against yours, eyes fluttering shut as he paused in his movements to take it all in. He had you again and he needed to make the most out of his time, fear looming in the back of his mind that you’d still leave tomorrow without a word.

Your hands cupped his jaw and you arched forward to capture his lips on yours. It was slow, his fingers curling around the nape of your neck, pulling you closer. Eagerly, he pressed into your touch, the soft weight of his chest pressing into yours comforting.

Your legs wrapped around his torso hoping to get some relief from your aching core. And Nico never stopped kissing you as he aligned himself with your entrance, teasing you with his length along your slit and causing you to buck, moans suppressed by his saccharine lips.

As he inched in, deeper into you, Nico savoured your warmth as if you were made just for him —and truthfully you were— movements deliberate and steady just like how he knew you liked.

He didn’t want to seem desperate but you were squeezing him tight, nails digging into his back and your arms wrapped tightly around him refusing to let him go. With the heels of your feet pressing into his lower back, he knew not to be ashamed for your desperation matched his. 

His body curled over yours, nose poking at your jaw so he could bite at your throat as he keeps fucking into you. One hand came to cup the back of your neck bringing you impossibly closer, and the way he was whispering dirty little nothings, lips brushing the shell of your ear, brought you to the edge.

Nico’s set thrusts urged you ever closer to your peak as he rolled his hips into yours, movement heavy inside of you, his fingers dropping to draw circles on your sensitive clit as your labored murmuring for more fanned against his lips. And you were an angel with the way you took him, welcoming him in at the gates of heaven with your honeyed sounds.

You rushed forward, chasing his lips as your release surged through you, tightening around him with a sweet sigh and his tongue swept into your mouth as he drowned your moans. His own release followed right after, emptying inside of you. The sound of his satisfied groan blissful to your ears as he came to rest on top of you.

Heaved breathing, Nico’s head settled on your chest and you made to sweep his hair from his eyes to admire the sweat-sheen glow adorning his warm skin. Your hands worked at his shoulder, kneading the muscles there as you took every opportunity to feel his skin against yours.

Nico shifted on his side and brought you with him, taking a moment to press a kiss to his pec, his neck and his lips once again. 

“Will you let me stay?”

“I don’t think you really need my answer to that.”

Nico slid his hands up your side, bringing your thigh over his hip. His large palm heavy as you shifted impossibly closer, one hand rubbing his scalp. And you kissed him without lust, simply reveling in the feel of his tongue dancing against yours, while he followed your lead wordlessly, squeezing so tenderly at your hip because this time he knows you will be there tomorrow. And any other day after.

[playnextdoor]

her lil present

summary: christmas eve plans got canceled, you cheer abby up

cw: domestic abby yesyesyeyeysyseyysehydse, cursing, suggestive material, nipple sucking (r! receiving), readers chest referred to as boobs, this is really cheesy but idc. also the link i put in isnt working, but the lingerie i am referring to is the "adore me gynger dark red bow set".. tumblr doesnt want me to be great

Growing up, Christmas Eve was the heart of the holiday for your family, a night that overshadowed Christmas Day itself. The house would fill with laughter and warmth, friends and family gathering around dinner before the main event: opening presents as the clock struck midnight. Abby had been stunned the first time she attended one of these celebrations at your parent’s house a few years ago, but ever since, she hadn’t missed a single one. Sure, the two of you still joined her family at church the following morning, but this tradition, your tradition, had become her favorite part of the holidays.

This year, however, Christmas Eve looked a little different. Snowed in at your home, over a hundred miles away from the dinner table of your childhood, your plans were canceled along with your flight. Surprisingly, Abby seemed more disappointed than you. She still helped you prepare a modest dinner for the two of you, though, mashing the potatoes with a slump of her shoulders and exaggerated sighs.

By the time evening settled in, Abby had claimed her spot on the living room couch, bundled up in her green buffalo plaid pajamas. Her pout made it clear she missed the usual festivities as she watched some cheesy Christmas movie you put on. As midnight crept closer, you told her to wait for the gifts, teasing her growing impatience. She practically shoved you away as you left to grab the gifts, laughing, clearly amused by your attempt to replicate your family’s traditions.

Deep down, though, a part of you buzzed with excitement. Tonight wasn’t about the usual big gathering, it was just the two of you. Something about that felt... intimate, special. As Abby settled deeper into the couch, you slipped to the bedroom, heart racing.

Rummaging through the pink shopping bag hidden under your bed, you pulled out the surprise, a gift you’d been planning for days. It took some effort to tie and adjust everything just right, but when you finally caught your reflection in the mirror, you couldn’t help the grin spreading across your face. She was going to love this. You spritzed on the musky, sweet perfume Abby adored, adjusted your hair a bit, and swiped on a bit of chapstick. Finally, you draped her oversized navy robe over yourself, the fabric nearly grazing the floor.

“All good, babe?” Abby’s voice called out from the living room, startling you.

“Yeah! Just a sec!” you shouted back, your voice a little too high pitched as you grabbed the bag of her gifts and carefully made your way out.

When you entered the living room, Abby’s brows lifted as she took in the sight of you, almost tripping over yourself with the bag in hand. The thud it made on the hardwood floor broke the tension as you giggled, moving toward her. Gently, you nudged her hands aside to sit on her lap, straddling her with ease.

“Don’t say something you’ll regret,” you teased, leaning in to press a lingering kiss to her lips. You felt her smile against your mouth as her hands instinctively found your waist.

“Yes, ma’am,” she murmured, a mischievous smirk playing on her face. Her fingers grazed the tie of the robe, tugging it slightly. “What’s this, huh?”

You swallowed hard, suddenly shy. “Your gift,” you mumbled, slithering her out of her grasp to stand, poking your foot against hers. Her eyes stayed locked on yours, soft yet with curiosity, while her hand fiddled with the knot of the robe.

“Lemme see,” she whispered, her voice thick with anticipation as she gave the tie another gentle tug, this time pulling you closer.

“Hold on!” you laughed, swatting her hands away as you stood. Her gaze didn’t leave you, though, if anything, it darkened. Her body language shifted into something more deliberate, predatory even. She leaned back against the couch, legs spread wide, watching you with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.

Taking a steadying breath, you slowly slipped the robe off your shoulders, letting it fall in a pool of fabric around your feet. Beneath it was the lingerie set you’d been eyeing all month, a deep crimson material wrapped so delicately around the softness of your body, complete with a playful bow tied across both your boobs and your ass.

“Do you like it?” you asked, voice barely above a whisper as you clasped your hands behind your back, fidgeting with the ribbon. You felt a little silly, standing there so exposed, but the way Abby’s jaw dropped made you forget your nerves.

“I—” she started, but her words trailed off as her gaze roamed over every inch of you. You could practically see the gears turning in her head, her pupils blown wide as she struggled to form a coherent thought.

Your lips curled into a teasing pout. “What about the back, hmm?” you asked, turning around to show off the bow on your ass. You glanced over your shoulder, catching her slack jawed expression. The silence stretched on, and your confidence wavered. “Abby?” you prompted, voice tinged with nervous laughter.

When her eyes finally met yours, they were filled with warmth that sent a flutter through your chest.

"You’re really something, huh?” Abby murmured, her voice low and full of awe and with the sexiest fucking smile. Her gaze dropped, lingering unapologetically on your chest, where the knot of the lingerie squeezed your curves, at your boobs teasingly spilling over. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips, and your breath hitched.

Feeling bold, you stepped closer, her hands warm as you guided them to your hips. Straddling her lap, you leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her temple before whispering in her ear, “All for you.”

Her breath hitched as you cradled her head to your chest, her arms tightening around your waist. You could feel the rise and fall of her chest quicken, her grip turning possessive. You tilted her face up with a gentle tug of her hair, her clouded eyes locking onto yours as you smiled. “All of this is for you,” you repeated, your voice soft yet firm, leaving no room for doubt.

Your fingers slid down to the bow at your chest, the silky fabric cool against your skin as you slowly tugged at the ribbon. Abby’s eyes widened, her lips parting slightly as she watched the knot come undone.

Abby watches, so eager and nearly crying at how beautiful you are and how lucky she is to see you like this. Your skin was warm, the slight tremor of your hands as you tried your best to put up this sexy front despite your shyness. She knows and fuck how good you were doing for her

“Fuuuck me,” she groans, lips finding your neck, nips, and licks trailing to your tits, sucking your nipple into her warm mouth. You nearly double over as she licks and sucks and licks and sucks- quiet groans leaving your mouth. Your fingers run through her loose bun, raking them just right as she whines into your chest. She swallowed hard, her pupils blown with hunger. “You’re unreal,” she whispered, her voice thick.

“Abby,” you gasped, your fingers threading through her hair, tugging just enough to earn a needy whimper. She didn’t let up, her hands sliding to your thighs as her mouth worked tirelessly, the soft groans spilling from you only spurring her on.

“Holy fu-ah, hold on,” Abby gasps as she stops abruptly, the back of her hand finding her mouth as she wipes the lingering saliva. 

“Why’d you stop?” you asked breathlessly, your chest heaving as you cupped her cheek. Abby’s dazed expression, with her eyes half-lidded and lips parted, her breathing uneven, made your heart flutter. She looked utterly wrecked, and you loved it.

“Because,” she rasped, her voice low and sultry, “I need you in the bed. I can’t fuck you properly here.”

Before you could process her words, Abby stood abruptly, her movements so quick that you almost lost your balance. She reached for your hips, her strong hands sliding down to cup your ass as she tried to lift you. Laughing softly, you pressed a hand against her chest to stop her.

“What about the gifts?” you teased, a knowing smile tugging at your lips. You couldn’t resist playing with her just a little longer.

Her head tilted as she gave you that look, her brows lifting in that classic ‘really?’ expression that always made you melt. “You’re asking about the gifts?” she said, her tone dripping with disbelief, though the playful glint in her eyes betrayed her amusement.

Without another word, Abby scooped you up with ease, cradling you against her chest as though you weighed nothing. Her grin widened as she turned toward the bedroom. “Trust me,” she murmured, her voice husky with affection and want, “I’m already holding the best gift of the night.”

a/n: feliz nochebuena/merry christmas eve/happy holiday! this is a quick lil blurb i wanted to write as soon as I saw this set at my local adore me, its so freaking cute. hope you enjoy <3333

[messenger-of-babel]

Sugared Kisses

Summary: You build gingerbread houses with Bruce and he wonders what he did to deserve you. (Bruce Wayne x reader)

Word Count: 1.4K

Notes: Second posting for the day to try and catch up, a little treat for you all as an apology. Two Bruce posts back to back and two fics of around the same length same day. Crazy. Merry Christmas!!!

RiRi <33

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"What is that supposed to be?" you laugh, looking over to the mess on Bruce's board next to you. The billionaire drops the pieces of gingerbread in his hands with a defeated sigh, the cookies clattering to the tray.

"A car." he sighs, eyes tired and saddled.

"A car, huh?" you say, stopping work on your own gingerbread house to look at his. If you could even call it a house, it was a deflated mess of frosting and biscuit.

"Yeah," he says gruffly. "See, the wheels were supposed to go here..." he picks up some circular discs of gingerbread in one hand and presses it to the larger mess of cookie, which spills between his fingers. "Then I'd put the doors here, and it was going to have this shape, and then, see?" He looks over to you, eyes desperately pleading that you understand what he's trying to explain. "Then it looks like the Batmobile." He mumbles, turning his face away in embarrassment.

You let out a giggle, lifting a hand to his cheek to bring him facing you once more.

"I see it." you smile, kissing him on the cheek. "Maybe we can reshape it like this..." you hum, placing your hands over his. Gently you guide his hands, picking up the soft gingerbread and pushing it back into a box shape. "If you hold it here, we can get it to set."

You leave his hands once he's holding it in place, picking up one of the piping bags to your left. Carefully you pipe where the cookie meets before going over a second coat. "Move your hand a bit." you murmur, tongue poking between your lips as you try to revive his gingerbread sculpture. You hear him laugh quietly above you, lifting the heels of his palms so you can squeeze the nozzle under.

Bruce looks down at you, face almost level with the table and eyes narrowed in determination and focus. He feels the smile settle on his face as naturally as breathing, shoulders relaxing as the tension melted out of them. These were the moments that he forgot that he was Batman, and that under the dress shirt he had rolled to his elbows, cuts littered his biceps, and his stomach and chest were painted black and blue. He forgot that he had a multibillion-dollar empire in his hands and more voicemails from board members in his phone than contacts. He got to just be Bruce, pure and unfiltered. for a moment the tiredness seeped out of his eyes, and he felt ten years younger when he was with you. No, he actually felt his age for once, like the world wasn't spinning on its axis at double speed anymore. He felt like a young man, strong and capable, and not the weary heart that surpassed Alfred's with baggage. He felt when he was with you that he was the Bruce he was supposed to be, the Bruce he could have been had that night never come to pass. So, when he looked at you, so carefree and determined to make this gingerbread batmobile with him simply because you wanted to spend time with him, he finally felt like a man that his parents in heaven could be proud of.

"What are you looking at?" you huff, making him look down at you. you've slithered between both of his arms to ice the doors he tried to attach, a smear of icing on your forehead. He casts his signature grin down to you, shaking his head. "You, of course, darling." he murmurs amused. "Have you finished?"

"Just about." you grin, pushing hair from your eyes.

"c'mere," he says, pulling you up by the forearms once he's let go of the gingerbread mess he'd made. grabbing a napkin form the end of the table he wets it lightly before dragging it across our forehead in small strokes, making sure the sugar melted off your forehead. "You got a little personal with the creation there, dear." he chuckles. god he wishes you could look at him with those grateful eyes forever. The way that your lips curls at the corners when you smile at him.

"And you said that this was a silly idea." you grin, looping your arms around his neck. His arms settle to your waist, and he bumps your foreheads together.

"Yes, well, I've known to be wrong at times." he playfully scoffs.

"And is this one?"

"This is most definitely one." he grins, pulling you close for a kiss. The taste of you is coated with a faint spice, icing powder and small flicks of frosting accidentally coating your lips. You respond happily, the smile that splits your face breaking the seal of the kiss.

"Have you been stealing the gingerbread?" he asks, eyebrows raised.

"No." you protest, batting his pec with mock offense.

"Then why can I taste it on you?" he teases back, rocking with you side to side.

"Maybe you’re the one that’s been stealing it. You gingerbread stealer, Christmas thief."

He shakes his head, laughing. "You're impossible."

"You love me anyways." you grin, kissing his chin.

"That I do." he says softly, looking down. "That I do."

When you both finished your creations, you displayed them in the kitchen alongside the rest of the families. Alfred normally made the one gingerbread house, seen by guests at the annual Gala and late year clients of Wayne Industries. His was a large replica of Wayne tower this year, dusted with snow and melted sugar-stained windows.

Next to it sat Dick's, the one who had convinced the rest of the family to make gingerbread house this year. It was a simple traditional house, with sugar spearmint leaves for bushes and a gumdrop walkway. It was a little broken in the roof, the proof of his ambition lying in the chocolate Santa he had placed in the chimney. As a result, the roof was slowly sinking in from the weight.

Tim was the only other sibling to have participated in Grayson's forced bonding, Jason being out of state for something suddenly and the rest of the manor having their own holiday plans. That just left you two with the toy boys and Alfred this year. In comparison he had created what seemed to be the most structurally sound house. "What is this?" Bruce asked puzzled. you put your house on the table, bending down to look at it closer.

"I don't know," you reply equally confused. "Some sort of condo?"

"It's so...boxy." Bruce hums.

"I think it's supposed to be high end and modern. Look, there's a driveway and this must be a garage." You point at another section of the house. The whole thing looked like a luxury villa, supported by beams made from chocolate swirl sticks. Bruce hums.

"Well at least it's not going to fall apart." he shakes his head. "Unlike this one." he holds up his own creation. When he's placed it in line next to yours (a tasteful beach house complete with surfboards out the front) you pinch his side.

"I love it." you smile, leaning into his side and he puts an arm over your shoulder. "Did you ever build gingerbread houses as a kid?"

He shakes his head. "No, not really. I only got to watch Alfred; this is my first time."

"Well, be proud of yourself, Mr Wayne." you tease, pointing to his batmobile. "It's a gorgeous first build."

"You think so?" He asks, smiling down at you.

"I know so." you reply.

Together you had fixed the batmobile and decorated it. It was a replica of one of his earlier models, back when he first started being the Dark Knight. It held together well, decorated sparingly so it looked festive and not tacky. You had helped him cut shapes from sweets to decorate the dash with the buttons, and the wheels were covered with split Oreos.

you don’t miss the way that his eyes soften and light up when you compliment him and his car, like a young boy proud of making the podium in a race or getting a ribbon at the science fair. "Let's do this again next year." you hum, bumping his shoulder with your head.

He looks at your two creations side by side, smiling softly before he looks up for a moment. he whispers a small thank you to the two angels watching over him who had brought you into his life, before dropping a kiss to the crown of your head.

"I think that will make a wonderful Christmas." he whisper softly.

And he wouldn’t have it any other way from now on.

[cognitiveoverload]

The secret is out (Aaron Hotchner x fem!BAU!reader)

summary: You and Hotch have been dating for half a year in secret. When the team decides it's time to help Spencer ask you out during the Christmas dinner you host for them, Hotch realizes that it might be time to tell the truth.

note: Takes place after Hotch's divorce, but before Haley's death.

The whole Christmas dinner is the result of a chain reaction. You invited Penelope, who invited Derek, who invited Spencer, who invited JJ, who invited Emily, who invited Dave, and finally, Dave invited Hotch. And to make things worse, this time there is a plan—the plan to help Spencer make the first move and finally ask you out. 

When Dave tells Hotch about it in the car on the way to the dinner, he smiles and acts like it’s adorable. Normally, it would be exactly that. They all love Spencer, they all want him to be happy, but considering Hotch only left your apartment this morning, he isn’t the right person to ask for help with this. This only makes him wonder if you should make your relationship official, if you should tell the team that the two of you have been seeing each other for over half a year now. 

“The early birds,” you say with a warm smile when you open the door and let them inside.

Dave glances down at his watch for a brief moment, then, as he walks past you, he speaks up. “I guess it means we’re the first ones.” When you hum in agreement, he stops and turns to look at the other man. “I told you we’re gonna be way too early.”

It takes every ounce of willpower not to tell him it wasn’t his idea to come together. He’s here exactly when he wanted to arrive, it’s not his fault that Dave decided to tag along. With a forced smile, he shrugs and shows you the two bottles of wine he brought as a gift. “Is there a wine cooler somewhere?” he asks casually.

You close the closet where you put their coats, then turn back to nod. “My parents love wine, so of course they have one,” you reply with a short laugh. “Not like they were alcoholics, they just… you know.” Hotch has to fight hard to keep his emotions in check, but you notice. You always notice. “Oh, sure, I’ll lead the way,” you say, signaling him to follow you. 

Since you made sure Dave was occupied with the photos in the living room, you quickly take the bottles from Hotch to put them in the cooler, then return to him with a seductive smile. “I missed you.” He leans closer, his lips almost touching yours as he speaks, knowing perfectly well this most probably makes your heart rate jump. “I’m sorry, Dave insisted on coming with me.”

“It’s okay,” you assure him with a loving smile.

These are one of those rare occasions when Hotch can loosen up, getting lost in the moment, so he doesn’t hesitate to close the gap and kiss you gently, letting his arm sneak around your waist as he pulls you closer. He knows he has to warn you, and he knows you should know how he feels about that plan, but it’s so good to have you like this again. You’re like a drug, and he loves the high you give him, and each time he tastes your lips, he just knows you should make your relationship official.

As stupid as it is, he wants to let everyone know that you’re his, he wants to mark his territory, and if he has to face the wrath of his team for hiding something like this, so be it. Because whenever he sees you interact with his son, he knows this is what he wants, and not just with Jack, but with a child that’s yours entirely. This is what’s been on his mind lately, and the thought is driving him crazy.

“There’s something I want to discuss with you,” he speaks up as he pushes a strand of hair behind your ear.

But before he could go on, you hear Dave clear his throat in the door, and when you both turn to look at him, he’s watching you with a knowing smile. “I wanted to tell Hotch we left the gifts in the car, but I guess I’ll bring them in myself since he’s busy at the moment,” he announces teasingly. 

Hotch lets you go and takes a step closer to his colleague. “Dave, I can explain,” he says, knowing he should give an explanation. After all, he’s your boss, you’re a lot younger, and he just agreed to help Spencer ask you out a good half an hour ago. It probably doesn’t look good from the outside. 

Smiling, Dave shoves his hands into his pockets. “No need to explain, I’ve seen enough. The best you can do now is laying your cards on the table when we’re all together. Spencer really likes her, and tonight everyone will be doing their best to get them together. Just be honest,” he tells the two of you, then turns around to leave the house.

You wrap your arms around his body and bury your face into his chest, and he lets out a sigh before placing a kiss on the top of your head. “He’s right, we need to tell them,” he says softly, leaning back just enough to look you in the eye. 

“Okay,” you agree weakly. 

For a few moments you watch him with those big, doe eyes, which brings back his earlier thoughts. “There’s something I want to tell you before Dave returns,” he begins, his voice carrying the kind of uncertainty and vulnerability that he only allows to have around you. When you hum to make him continue, he exhales slowly to prepare himself. “I would like to have another child. With you.”

At first, you don’t react at all, as if the statement completely froze your brain. But then you slowly blink at him, your lips slightly parting as you take a breath. “A baby?” you ask quietly, earning a nod in response. 

“I know we haven’t been together for that long, but I know that I love you. Sure, we don’t have to start the baby project right away, I understand if you’re not ready,” he assures you.

A sweet smile slowly appears on your lips as you stand on your toes to place a soft kiss on his cheek. “I love you too, Aaron. And maybe having a little kid together isn’t such a bad idea,” you say kindly. But then the sweet smile shifts into a wicked one. “Can you stay the night? I hate to be alone in this stupidly big house, and I think I’ll be too lazy to drive home after dinner.” 

There’s something else, something you’re not telling him, and it takes him a moment to realize what it is. “Oh, wait, you mean…? Tonight?” he asks, unable to hide the confusion that slowly mixes with excitement. 

With an adorable giggle, you take his hand and lace your fingers. “Why not? Unless you have better plans,” you add, looking up at him through your lashes. 

“If you’re serious about this, I won’t have better plans until we have a positive test,” he states before kissing you again.

“I think they’re looking for glasses in the kitchen.”

Hotch is quick to step away from you, grateful that Dave gave you a chance to find an excuse for being there alone. So, without much hesitation, you point at a cabinet and then move to another where your parents keep the coffee mugs. He takes out enough glasses for everyone, then heads to the dining room with them. He can see JJ and Dave discussing something, and she flashes a smile at him when their eyes meet.

“She’s in the kitchen?” JJ asks him, to which he replies with a nod. “I’ll see if she needs more help then.”

When she disappears, Hotch stands in front of Dave with an uncertain look on his face. “Thanks for the warning. We discussed this whole thing, and we’ll tell the team once everyone’s here. This is for the best,” he says. 

The other man lets out a short breath with an amused smile, but he doesn’t say a word–not yet. But then, at the moment they hear a car stopping, followed by the sound of a cheerful conversation, he finally opens his mouth to speak. “You’ll have to talk to HR about this.” Hotch nods. He’s painfully aware of that conversation. “But you both look happy, and if you’re both happy, I’m happy too.”

A sigh of relief escapes his lips upon hearing this. It’s good. You have at least one person in your corner. 

Within a matter of seconds the remaining guests appear, smiling happily as they balance the wrapped gifts in their hands. Once the newcomers settle down, Hotch shepherds everyone into the living room, deciding that this is the perfect time to make the announcement, before the little schemers set their plan into motion. You look a little uncertain, but he doesn’t want to let you feel like that. He stands next to you, but he avoids physical contact for now. 

“There’s something I wanted to tell you all before we sit down to eat up all the food our generous host prepared,” he begins, and out of the corner of his eye he can see you roll your eyes. “You know me, you know I usually respect the regulations, but a few months ago I crossed a line I shouldn’t have. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t regret it, and I don’t want to stop after this conversation we’re having now. I just wanted you to all know that we started to date a few months ago,” Hotch says as he wraps an arm around your waist to pull you closer. 

Surprise, surprise, a little more surprise, and then there’s the look of betrayal on Spencer’s face. He avoids your gaze, and he doesn’t look at his boss either, but that’s okay, he didn’t expect him to start cheering. This might be tough for him, but he’ll get over it for sure. But the others soon turn supportive; they start to tease them, they come up with jokes, and some even begin to dig deeper to get some more details out of you two. You quickly loosen up enough to answer them, but Hotch doesn’t let you do the talking alone, he’s staying by your side the whole time to support you. 

You’re a little team of two now. Hopefully, you’ll be the mother of his youngest child in the future. It’s his duty to always protect you.

[runninriot]

Santa's Secret

written for @steddieholidaydrabbles day 23

prompt: hot chocolate | rated G | wc: 998 | tags: Eddie & Wayne Munson, single dad Steve Harrington

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | AO3 (+bonus epilogue)

Eddie can’t wait to get out of the suit that’s been suffocating him for the past three hours. He’s still sweaty and his hair is a mess after wearing the wig and fake beard combo for so long but he feels better once he’s changed back into his regular clothes.

Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, Eddie stops for a moment. He looked so different dressed as Santa, could’ve been fooled by his own reflection wearing that costume. There’s no way Steve actually realised it’s him. Maybe what Eddie thought he saw in Steve’s eyes wasn’t recognition, but confusion.

They haven’t seen each other in years and apart from that, it’s not like they’ve ever been… close. Sure, Steve probably knew of him – they’ve both been somewhat popular in high school, although for very different reasons. But still. It was silly of Eddie to think the smile he gave him was one of familiarity. More realistically, it was just a silent thanks for how he handled the little girl’s nervousness, brought a smile to her face by playing into her childlike wonder.

And that’s okay.

In the end, Eddie did have a great time pretending to be Santa for a while. He’ll never tell Wayne, though, unless he wants to hear his old man tell him ‘I told you so‘.

With his shift done, Eddie strolls around the still brimming main hall of the community centre, looking at a stand with wooden figurines where a beautifully carved dragon caught his eyes.

He’s so fascinated by it, that he doesn’t notice the person coming up to him, until a hand taps his shoulder lightly.

When he spins around, he finds Steve standing next to him.

   “So, what brings you back to this shithole?“ he asks through a laugh, casual, like it’s normal for the former King and King of Freaks to have a conversation.

   “I, uh,“ Eddie stammers, staring at Steve a little star struck and maybe a little more in love because there’s that smile again and it’s blinding like the fucking sun and this time, he doesn’t have the Santa suit to blame for the fucking heat spreading in his face.

    God, grow up Munson. You’re an adult. Behave like one.

   “I’m visiting my uncle.“

   “How is Wayne? I was a bit worried when I realised that-“ Steve leans closer to whisper in his ear and Eddie’s heart stops for a moment. “-Santa sent someone else to cover for him.“

There are a million thoughts running through Eddie’s mind – since when are Steve and Wayne on first name basis? So Steve did recognise him? And why’s it so fucking hot in here?

   “You were great, by the way. I’d have lost it at some of the parents. They can be worse than their spoiled little brats sometimes.“

Eddie chuckles nervously, shrugs his shoulders and waves a hand at Steve who moves back slowly but stays close, so close Eddie catches a hint of his cologne, mingling with the Christmassy smell of oranges, and cinnamon, and apple tea, and it makes him dizzy but not in a bad way.

“Robbie wouldn’t shut up about Santa,“ Steve winks at him, “said he’s the coolest, even cooler than the tooth fairy. And let me tell you, that’s a real compliment.“

They both laugh and it feels so light and freeing; Steve makes it seem so easy to fall into conversation with him.

   “She’s a sweet kid and she loves you a lot, I can tell.“

    Loves you so much she’s wasting her Christmas wish on your happiness, Eddie thinks fondly, biting his tongue not to accidentally spill their little secret.

   “Yeah, well. She doesn’t have much choice. She’s stuck with me, since her mother decided to-“

   “Dad!“ a voice calls from somewhere behind them and when they turn, they see Robbie running up at them.

   “Speaking of the Devil,“ Steve sighs amused before opening his arms to catch her.

   “Who’s your friend?“

   “This is Eddie. We’ve been to school together. He’s grandpa Wayne’s nephew.“

    Grandpa W-hat?

Eddie must be having a stroke. Or maybe something’s wrong with his hearing because… WHAT?

Steve must realise something when he notices Eddie’s confusion, because he suddenly blushes a deep shade of red and smiles awkwardly at him.

   “S-sorry, I thought you knew that, uh-“ Steve takes a deep breath before he continues, “Your uncle has been helping me out a lot when I moved back to Hawkins a few months ago. You know, uh, setting up the house and watching Robbie when I had to go to interviews and couldn’t find a babysitter. He, uh, he’s been a real help. Robbie’s obsessed with him. Aren’t you, baby?“

   “He’s awesome! And he makes the best hot chocolate in the world! With little marshmallows and sprinkles on top!“

Eddie feels like he’s been hit by a truck, feels betrayed by the man he’s been looking up to his whole life.

   Wayne Munson, you son of a potato farmer, are living a secret life where Steve’s daughter calls you grandpa?

    Oh, Eddie’s going to have a field day confronting him with that.

   “Right?! The best hot chocolate ever! I always have mine with whipped cream on top,“ Eddie answers equally enthusiastic, doesn’t even have to pretend despite his inner turmoil because that little girl’s smile is infectious.

While listening to Robbie’s happy babbling, Eddie watches Steve from the corner of his eyes. He still looks a bit like a kid caught stealing cookies, but slowly relaxes, and that’s good, but-

Wayne definitely has some explaining to do. His uncle has always been a fucking saint, can’t not offer his help when he feels like someone’s in need of it. But it being Steve of all people, really messes with Eddie in a weird way he can’t really explain.

He needs to know more.

   “How about we all go to Wayne’s together? I’m sure he’ll be delighted to see you. What do you say?“

[kookygranger]

Blue Christmas

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Aka Fairytale of Hawkins: Part Three

Summary: The town of Hawkins calls for you once again this Christmas, but with sugar-laced memories of a certain metalhead tainted by a recent breakup your stance on the holiday season has returned in full force.

Warnings: angst with fluff ending (it's a Hallmark Christmas!), casual holiday drinking, exes to smitten, reader and Eddie are in their late 20s/early 30s, swearing

Word count: 6.8k

Author's note: It's been a year since we were all here in this little corner of the world so I would just like to say – whether there were more moments of accomplishments, love, gratitude, euphoria, or just more of the same as these past few years seem to have presented so many of us – I hope you find some form of joy and a moment to breathe at the end of another year, or at least that it comes to you soon. You are not alone in this feeling; we keep on moving.

Part One | Part Two

8 weeks ‘til Christmas

“I’m gonna book my flights tonight, do you want me to do yours too?” The blank stare you give Robin is reciprocated when she looks over at your silence. “The price will just go up if we wait.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Booking flights. For Christmas. To Hawkins.” Your frown deepens with every additional sentence she pushes out. “We talked about this last month.”

“You thought I was serious?”

She shifts her body to face yours on the sofa, tucking her leg in. “When I asked if you were coming you said, oh sure!”

“Robin, it’s called sarcasm. I thought you were fond of the language.”

She frowns back at you, “You’re not coming for Christmas?”

You shake your head, “You can’t be serious.”

“Everybody’s expecting you.”

“I’m pretty sure they’re not.”

“You had so much fun last year–“

“Robin.”

“–Max and El want to go ice skating with you, and Steve’s already making plans–“

“Robin!”

“What?!” She throws her hands in the air, her shoulders meeting her ears.

“Eddie and I broke up.”

She nods once, “I know.”

“Okayyy, so what makes you think I could ever go back to Hawkins?”

“You’re being a little dramatic.”

“I can’t crash your Christmas are you kidding?! I’m the ex-whatever now. I’m the outsider again.”

She rolls her eyes, “Except you’re not. You’re a part of the family. Everyone’s so excited to see you.”

“Uh, I don’t think Eddie is.”

She breathes out a huff, “I think if the two of you saw each other this whole thing would just blow over.”

You tuck your legs towards your chest, focusing back on the TV.

“I’m not having this conversation again. Eddie was very clear about what he wanted. He doesn’t want to see me, and I’m never ever going back to that town. Especially, not for Christmas.”

***

7 days ‘til Christmas – Hawkins, Indiana

“Are you just gonna stand there pouting the whole time or are you gonna join in?”

Robin’s voice snaps your attention from Frank Sinatra crooning from the open window of her parent’s house. You frown, looking down at the string of lights wound around your hands then up at Steve as he balances on the ladder, placing the lights along the gutter and brushing the snow away as he goes.

You peer around the ladder at Robin, holding her own bundle in the warmth of the house. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

“Try looking a little less like you’re being held against your will.” She shouts through the window.

You’re about to tell her that’s exactly what’s happening, thinking back to a couple of days ago when Steve had shown up out of the blue at your shared apartment, telling you he was going to drive Robin home for the holidays before suggesting you all go out for something to eat before they left. It had taken you 28 minutes to ask where on earth Steve was going, initially distracted by his detailed update of Dustin’s last year of college. You clocked the shifty look he shared with Robin in the front seat at the same time you realised you were about to turn onto the highway.

But Steve interrupts your bitter reminiscing with his own interjection, “Jesus Rob, leave her alone. I don’t see you out here freezing your ass off.”

You thank Steve as Robin rolls her eyes and resumes decorating.

“Anytime. We kidnapped you ‘cause we love you, you know that right?” He looks down in between the gap of his arms with an apologetic smile.

“Yeah, I know.”

He nods, “It’ll be alright.”

You give him a barely reassuring nod in return, ignoring the stinging at the back of your eyes while Frank sings about glistening treetops like the snow-capped ones lining the suburban street. You sniffle and wipe your nose quickly, hoping Steve thinks it’s just the cold and has nothing to do with how you wish it was his roommate who was comforting you instead, and the pain of knowing he was so close but wouldn’t care anymore.

You focus on unwinding more of the lights as Steve descends the ladder to move it over.

How the hell did you get dragged into this again?

***

I’m twirlin’ a cane made of peppermint

Uh huh (uh huh), uh huh (uh huh)

Nice sticky hands, sticky peppermint

Uh huh (uh huh) uh huh (uh huh)

Spun sugary cloud I’m floatin’ on

The fresh fallen snow melts into the tyre tracks left by traffic along the main street. You watch it through the frosted glass of the diner, one hand cradling the warm mug on the table in front of you.

“Gosh, you’d think they’d give the Christmas songs a break every now and then.”

“I actually kind of like this one.”

Nancy watches you watching the outside world, checking over her shoulder to see if Robin is still occupied in the bathroom before leaning in across the table.

“So, how are you feeling about seeing him? Have you two talked about it yet? Are you both going to be at everything together or are you taking turns? We could totally do something separate if you’re not feeling up to it–we could go shopping, just us two!”

You turn to smile at her, “Jeez Nancy, you should be a reporter or something.”

She shakes her head with a smile, “Sorry. I just know things can feel a little overwhelming coming back to Hawkins with everybody here. I don’t want you to feel left out or uncomfortable or anything.” She glances over her shoulder again, “And Robin kind of seems–“

“She’s not really accepted it, I think. Keeps saying it’ll all blow over.”

“Could it?”

Your attention is caught by a man ringing a gold bell in a Santa suit walking past the window before it falls on Nancy again, with her look of quiet hopefulness. She’s smart, defiant, and effortlessly beautiful. Even in your brief encounters with her, you’ve always been in awe of her strength. You think about Steve and wonder how long it took for the pain of being around her to turn into gentleness again. You think about asking her how you can be strong and vulnerable in love at the same time.

“It just didn’t work out. I’m sure he’ll find someone better for him soon enough. If he hasn’t already.”

“Oh, n–“ Nancy flinches as Robin slaps her hands on the table, before sharing a knowing smile with you at her proclamation.

“I just had the best idea!’

“In the toilet, Rob?” You laugh, “Can’t wait to hear this one.”

She slides into the booth seat next to you, bumping your shoulder gently with hers. “I think we ditch the civilized lunch, go home, get changed and meet back at the bar for a grown-up girl’s night. Whaddya think?”

You shake your head, “I don’t think grown-ups actually call themselves grown-ups.”

“They refer to themselves as adults,” Nancy nods knowingly, “and they pronounce it a-D-ults.”

You turn your head towards Robin, “Plus our last trip to the watering hole in this town didn’t really end well for us.”

“He won’t be there if that’s what you’re worried about. Steve said he works late at the shop on Fridays.”

“Robin.” Nancy’s warning glare is enough to make you feel flushed, but Robin only shrugs dramatically.

“Why does everybody keep looking at me like that?! This is my best friend,” her arm squeezes around your shoulders and you giggle when she pinches your cheeks together, “and I’m always looking out for her, which is why she is here and why we’re getting festively hammered tonight at the Hideout. No boys allowed.”

***

The Hideout is exactly as you remember. All sticky tabletops, dim lighting, and gruff patrons (with the exception of a few young home for the holiday-ers). Robin wastes no time in ordering shots, keeping both you and Nancy on your toes, until you’re very much not.

“I can’t even tell which is stripes and which is…the other one.” Nancy drops her pool cue on the green table. “’M calling Jonathan.”

“I’ll call Steve!” Robin follows her to the payphone on the wall.

“But we can fit one car.” Your slightly slurred voice of reason is waved off by Robin and it’s not long until you’re waving at Jonathan’s retreating car, feeling her head slump against your shoulder, your breath leaving you in clouds.

“I don’t feel good.”

You pat her gently on the head, “Steve will be here soon.”

“No, I really don’t feel good.”

“Are you going to throw up?”

She mumbles something that sounds like a yes into your shoulder and you move swiftly to turn her body away from you and support her off to the side of the bar where there’s shrubbery. She spits a couple of times first and you think it might be a false alarm before she’s vomiting all over the bushes.

“Okay, there we go.” You pat her on the back, holding her hair away from her face.

There’s a slam of a car door echoing across the small carpark that makes you turn your head, hoping it’s Steve. When you hear another one followed by girlish giggling your attention turns back to Robin, finally starting to shiver from the cold as the alcohol begins wearing off.

“C’mon Steve.” You mutter.

The hand that’s rubbing circles on Robin’s back freezes when you hear a familiar voice cut through the giggling behind you.

“And then the car just sprays the hell out of him with oil.”

Shit. Shit. Shit.

You glance over your shoulder with a hammering heart; one that feels like it drops to your stomach when you see those familiar curls and his dimpled smile when the pretty girl he’s with reacts to his story. The girl who has her hand tightly clasped around his leather jacket as they walk across the close-to-icy pavement. Your head snaps back around when they get closer, and you’re thankful for the poor lighting keeping you mostly hidden until Robin’s hacking up sick again.

“Gross.”

Your eyes screw shut at her words, your body stilling until you hear the front door of the Hideout close behind them both. You’re saved moments later when Steve pulls up right beside you.

“Jesus Christ.” Steve helps you get Robin standing upright again, grimacing at the way her head lolls as you both shuffle her into the passenger seat.

“Pretty sure it was the decision to switch to spiked egg nog to keep the “debauchery festive” that did it.” You sigh, then smirk at Steve’s perplexed look, hands on hips and head shaking. “Just remember you’re moving in with that.”

He winces, “Yeah, you forget the intensity of Robin when you’re not around it that often.”

“You two are going to have so much fun.”

Steve looks at you, eyebrows raising, “I thought it was us three? You change your mind?”

You shrug, biting your lip as he watches you with confusion, “I don’t really know anymore.”

He just nods slowly then, “Okay, that’s–okay. I wasn’t gonna start looking at places until the New Year, so you have a bit of time to decide. We can talk about it later.”

There’s a momentary silence that’s interrupted by Robin mumbling something about getting fries.

“No, we’re going straight home.” Steve shuts the passenger door and squeezes you on the shoulder before walking around to the driver’s seat. You look back at the bar, expecting to see him walk through the door with a cigarette prepared in between his lips, but you quickly get into the car before you get caught.

***

6 days ‘til Christmas

The screaming kid being dragged down the aisle away from the candy does nothing to soothe the headache you’re currently enduring. Nor does the slightly flickering and dim fluorescent lights of the small grocery store, as you struggle to make a decision in front of the potato chips.

You hadn’t slept much, despite your heavy limbs and swimming head when you slipped under the covers on the sofa bed. You couldn’t get the image of him smiling at another girl off your mind.

It had only been a couple of months did he move on that quickly?

Did he know her while you were together? Was she just waiting in the wings? Did something happen between them while you were–no, Eddie wouldn’t do that. But maybe developing feelings for someone else was the catalyst for him breaking it off. God, she was pretty.

Needless to say, your brain is a little fried from the tossing and turning and struggling to make a decision about snack foods. It even takes a moment to register the questioning call of your name behind you.

You turn around.

“I thought that was you darlin’. What a surprise.”

You smile, taking in the worn flannel and pristine trucker’s cap of the older man in front of you.

“Hi, Wayne.”

He embraces you briefly, the scent of a familiar brand of cigarettes stirring a pang in your chest.

“Ed never told me you were coming back for Christmas.”

“Oh, well I didn’t know until about two days ago myself. I’m not sure if he did either.”

“Robin wear you down, did she?”

“Kind of.” You offer him a small smile.

Wayne rubs the grey stubble on his jaw. “You’re welcome to come over again on Christmas day. Whatever happened between you two, you’re always welcome.”

You frown, “That’s really sweet Wayne, but I don’t think he–“

“Hey old man, you want the creamed corn or the regular–“

You make eye contact at the same time. Eddie walks down the small aisle holding up his options, his sneakers squeak when he comes to an abrupt stop.

“Shit. I mean–hi.” He shakes his head quickly.

Wayne crosses his arms, “Christ son, what kind of greeting is that to a lady.”

You burn under the attention of the two, the situation not what you had anticipated when you entered the store. Damn small towns. You didn’t get a good look at him last night, but he looks well. His hair is freshly washed and a little shorter than the last time you’d seen him. He must’ve gotten that trim he kept putting off. But there’s no dimpled smile. Just a look of uncomfortable shock.

“Um, I should get back to Robin,” you hold up the basket in your hands full of sugary hangover food and boxes of Kraft mac and cheese, “she’s feeling a little rough this morning.”

“You two been celebratin’ early?” Wayne smiles.

“Uh,” your gaze flickers to Eddie briefly, “just went to the bar for a few drinks last night, which Robin couldn’t exactly keep down.” You see the realisation hit him in real time, his brows creasing before his eyes widen, turning your attention back to Wayne as he chuckles.

“Well, you better get home quick then.”

“I will. Have a Merry Christmas Wayne.” You hope he doesn’t take offence to the almost grimacing smile you give him, but you can’t muster up anything better given the situation. “See you later, Eddie.” You turn without another glance at him, feeling embarrassment wash over you when you hear a light thump and Wayne’s grumble at Eddie’s complaint.

“Ow.”

“You better get your tongue untwisted next time, son.”

***

He watches the windows of his van frost over quickly after he cuts the engine and the warm air off. They said to expect heavy snow any day now, continuing into the new year. Eddie can’t move his hands away from the steering wheel.

He thought this would be the first time you’d see each other when everyone gathered at the Buckley’s for a Christmas movie night to kick off the festivities. He’d been preparing himself for this moment, even going as far as washing his hair this morning, which he was kind of thankful for given he’d run into you at the grocery store earlier.

You stole his words from him.

Not that you were wearing anything particularly flattering, he’s sure you actually had pyjamas on under your thick coat, in fact you looked a little tired. But, fuck. You always looked beautiful.

And Eddie wasn’t expecting to see you yet, especially not last night at the Hideout. He shakes his head, of course you saw that. He’s sure if there’s some higher power out there controlling his ill-fated life they had a good chuckle about that shining moment.

This was where you were supposed to be reunited, in a controlled environment around friends flowing with the holiday spirit – just like last time. He was going to find a quiet moment to talk to you, to apologise, to explain his cowardice.

Now he couldn’t work up the courage to leave the van.

It’s the banging on the window next to him that startles him out of his trance.

“Dude, what are you doing?”

Despite the teasing, he can’t help but smile at the smirking, still youthful but grown faces of his younger D&D cohort.

“I bet he’s crying to a sad pop song.” Dustin nudges in beside Mike, the window framing them along with Will and Lucas as they all push up against the glass, the condensation not enough to hide their taunting looks.

The door creaks as he opens it, pushing the group away with a wave of his hand and a faux snarl. “Get inside, you little Gremlins.”

He’ll never tire of hearing their collective laughter, even if it’s at his own expense.

He follows the kids up the icy path to the house, ending up in a half-hearted wrestle with Dustin when he asks if it was Joni Mitchell he was listening to. He’s choking out a rendition of River when they tumble through the door with Dustin in a headlock under Eddie’s surprisingly firm biceps.

Your eyes are wide when they stop right in front of you.

“Can I take your jackets?”

Eddie straightens up quickly, his face flushed while the colour quickly drains from Dustin as his air supply returns.

“Uh, sure.”

You hang everyone’s coats up on the hooks in the hallway, and Eddie swears there’s a zap when your fingers brush his as he hands off his leather jacket. You’re wearing a cute Christmas sweater. Not one of those garish over the top ones, just a simple forest green and white knitted thing that makes you look cosy and makes him miss the feeling of your arms wrapped around him. You join the others in the living room off to the side of the hall without another word, leaving him standing there with his party.

“Well that was weirdly formal.” Lucas pats him on the back as he brushes past and the others follow his lead. Eddie sighs, wanting to just turn on his heel and bolt, but more determined to talk to you and encourage you to start looking him in the eyes again.  

You’re separated from him by the group crammed into Robin’s parent’s living room. Bodies spread out across couches and cushions scattered on the floor, some innocent cuddling and even more innocent squabbling. You’re only a few metres away across the other side of the room, but it feels like you’re unreachable to Eddie. He still manages to steal glances at you, laughing along to the conversations, your pretty face lit up by the Christmas tree and the company.

After what feels like hours, he finally gets his moment near the end of the film, his attention drawn to you in the dark as you stand up and make your way to the kitchen alone.

He waits a minute, praying nobody else decides to join you, before rising slowly from his seat nonchalantly walking in the same direction.

He finds you at the sink with a glass of water, looking out the window at the Buckley’s backyard.

“They say it’ll probably snow overnight.”

You jump at his voice, the water in your glass spilling over onto your hand.

“Shit, sorry.” Eddie holds out his hands as if trying to calm a wild animal when you turn around.

“It’s okay, I was just…somewhere else.” You give him a weak smile, drying your hands on a nearby tea towel. He steps a little closer to you when it looks like you’re going to move away.

“I know we have a lot to talk about, but I wanted to clear the air about last night first.”

“We don’t have to talk about anything.” You shrug, still not catching his eye. “It’s not any of my business.”

His chest puffs up under his maroon sweater (the one you like) before he sighs, “She’s the receptionist at the shop. She keeps pestering me to get after work drinks with her.” He scrambles to get to the point when he notices you step towards the door, “She won’t get the hint every time I say no, and she stayed late last night just so I wouldn’t have an excuse. I was just tryna’ get it over with. Show her that we probably have nothing in common and let her down nicely I guess.”

“Eddie, you don’t owe me an explanation just because I saw you.” You smile, finally looking up at him and he hates the insincerity of it, the clouded over eyes that look straight through him. “You can see whoever you want, it’s none of my business.”

He shakes his head, reaching out to you, “I’m not seeing anybody, of course I’m not sweet girl–“ That gets a reaction out of you, and the anger, the lowering of your walls gets Eddie’s heart racing.

“Don’t call me that. You don’t get to call me that anymore.” You’re looking at him now, really looking at him, eyebrows pinched in indignation.

“I want to apologise.”

3 months ago

He felt it coming from a mile off. The way you had an excuse every time you were supposed to come down to Hawkins. The way you switched subjects on the phone whenever he brought up future plans, concerts happening next year, a pay rise that meant he could afford a decent place when Steve inevitably moved out. No matter what everyone would say about his intelligence, Eddie Munson could read the writing on the wall.

So, when you finally caught up after weeks of dodged calls and visits, he had his mind set. Get out before he was pushed out. Be the breaker not the broken.  

“So, Robin and Steve moving to Indy huh?

“Mhm.” He hums in reply as you try to stir up conversation from the kitchen. There’d been an awkward silence ever since he’d walked through the door of your apartment. You watch him sitting on the edge of your couch, a dark cloud hanging over him you were trying to shoo away.

“Didn’t think them being separated would last much longer,” you breathe out a laugh through your nose and he only nods, still distant. Your hands are clammy with nerves, a slight shake to your voice he doesn’t seem to notice. “You know actually, my lease is up next month, I was thinking of moving in with Robin for a while.”

“Your place is nicer.”

You tip your head back and forth, “Yeah, but she has an extra room since her roommate moved out.”

“What are you gonna do when she goes?” His leg starts to bounce, and it’s like his mouth is moving but his mind is elsewhere.

“It’s not until next year…I was thinking maybe, well not maybe, I was just thinking that I would–“

“This isn’t working, right?” His head snaps up and it takes you a moment to answer him under his furrowed gaze.

“It’s…what?”

“I mean, I’m exhausted from all the travelling back and forth and I know you are. Why the hell would you wanna spend your weekends in Hawkins?”

You take a deep breath, “Well, I wanted to talk to you about that–”

“Great let's talk. You can’t keep coming to Hawkins.”

“I–“

“And hell, it’s not exactly like I would move here.”

Oh.

He wouldn’t do the same for you.

“Wayne’s only getting older, and Steve well he’s gonna move to Indy but it’s still close, and Robin will be there, and the kids when they come home. And I can’t just quit my job, you know I’ve got a good steady thing going, and of course you can’t so you know…where does that leave us?”

It leaves you with moving with Robin to Indianapolis. Saying fuck it to your job because you can always find another one. It leaves you with moving in with Eddie because he can find work and still be close to Wayne.

At least, you thought it did, but now…now you feel like a fool in love. Rushing into something unreciprocated, because it hadn’t even been a year, why would he be willing to move away from everything familiar for you?

“Right.”

He sighs, rubbing his face before standing up and walking over to you. “Sweetheart I just don’t see how this can work anymore.”

You try to swallow the dryness in your throat away, “Right.”

“I don’t know how to…” he shakes his head and looks to the door, “Should I go?”

“If you want to.”

“Fuck.” He rubs his face harshly, “I’m sorry. I’ll just go.” He starts to walk away, pivoting quickly to give you a barely there peck on your temple then walking straight out the door with a slam that makes you flinch.

You’re left standing there, shocked into immobility. That wasn’t how you thought that conversation was going to go, but maybe you should have prepared for that. This is what happens when you leave yourself vulnerable.

You wish he’d left a more lasting kiss where you could feel the imprint of it.

“I shouldn’t have left like that. I should’ve called you and properly talked. With you and not at you. I’m so sorry. I’ve had a lot of time to think about it.”

“That’s nice.”

“Sweet–“ he corrects himself and with a breath says your name instead, “I want to apologise.”

You shrug, eyes glazing over again. “It’s whatever Eddie. Maybe I should thank you for having the guts to rip the band-aid off. To say how you felt before–before I made an idiot of myself.”

He frowns, “What do you mean?”

“Don’t worry about it. Let’s just move on and have a good Christmas with everyone.”

Eddie’s shoulders deflate as you walk out of the kitchen.

Maybe his fuck up was truly irreparable this time.

***

Three days ‘til Christmas

The day after movie night had been a girl’s day. Ice skating with El and Max in the centre of town, a light dusting of snow catching on your tongues as you giggled and listened to them gush about their independent lives away from home and the ever-present homesickness this time of year, even when they were with their families. Nancy had met you all after, driving you to the mall for some last-minute Christmas shopping. You’d pulled Dustin’s name for Secret Santa this year and found him some albums on cassette you’d thought he like based on what Eddie had told you he’d enjoyed of his musical teachings.

You waited up for Robin later, who’d spent the day with Steve and Eddie.

The next day, there had been a gingerbread house making competition at the Byers residence. Joyce, her two sons, El, Hopper, Robin, Mike and Steve were all there fighting over the best candy decorations and cheering over the collapse of each other’s creations. The rest were with Eddie at the mall.

Nobody had mentioned it explicitly, but it was clear that everyone was working around the issue of you and the boisterous metalhead by taking it in turns and whispering about who’d be where when. And so it was, that most of your week in Hawkins had gone by without seeing Eddie, except for the run-ins at the Hideout and the grocery store and the awkward conversation at movie night.

You were worried you were bringing the mood down. You’d tried to be comfortable around him for everyone else’s sake, but you mustn’t have been hiding your emotions very well.

So, you’d excused yourself from today’s activities – Christmas tree chopping and decorating at Steve and Eddie’s apartment – feigning a scratchy throat and headache that could only be cured by staying in and resting.

You’d actually ended up leaving the house to find the cute bookstore in town in search of something to keep you company. You’d browsed for over an hour, the comforting smell of the fresh pages of paper, the occasional jingle of the bell above the door as shoppers flowed through the store and the quiet hum of Christmas songs from the radio on the counter all enveloping you in this space of temporary peace.

By the time you leave the store, paper bag weighing one arm down as you button up your coat again, the snow that had been threatening to fall for days had well and truly blanketed the town.

“Oh.” Your voice is carried off in the wind, with the snow that’s falling down sideways. The streets are significantly quieter, the sky darker and the pavements covered.

You’d walked into town from the Buckley’s. It wasn’t particularly far but it seemed like miles in these conditions. You turn around, briefly considering calling someone from inside the store, when the shop owner flips over the sign to closed. Giving you an oblivious wave and smile which you return.

Walking it is then.

***

“I’m an idiot for thinking I could just cut and run. I hate not being able to talk to her. She’s angry, and she deserves to be, but she won’t even let me see that. I just want her to talk to me, be angry at me, yell at me. She’s not her when she’s around me anymore and it kills me. I just–I just want…I don’t know.”

Steve munches on popcorn from the bowl in front of him, while he waits for the fresh batch to stop popping in the microwave. Eddie is holding a bowl of cranberries, slumped against the kitchen table, laughter spilling through from the other room.

“Sounds like you want her back.”

“Not just that,” he shakes his head, “I still think she deserves better I just wish we could still be in each other’s lives.”

Steve crosses his arms, truly ugly Christmas sweater bunched up by his elbows. “What do you mean she deserves better?”

“I couldn’t be there for her most the time. Our relationship was over the phone, I couldn’t hold her back anymore. I spent half my life dreaming of leaving this stupid town and now I’m too chicken shit to do it. She should be with someone in her league you know. At least someone who lives in the same damn city.”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Steve waves his hand around. “Are you telling me you broke up with her because of the distance?”

Eddie looks at him and shrugs, “Yeah. You knew that.”

“No, I didn’t. Anytime I tried to talk to you about it you just kept saying it didn’t work out.” He imitates a deeper, grumpy voice.

Eddie rolls his eyes, “Whatever, man. What difference does it make?”

Steve scoffs, “Indy’s like an hour and a half away, you couldn’t just hang on ‘til she moved?”

“She…what? What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Eddie!” Robin rushes into the kitchen, causing him to straighten up with the look of panic on her face. “You need to find her.”

***

Cold. Cold. Cold.

Never has anybody been this cold in the history of life itself. Cold doesn’t even begin to touch what you’re currently feeling – or not feeling, like your fingers. How long does it take to get frostbite?

You thought you were closer to the Buckley’s, but now all the snow-covered suburban houses looked the same. It didn’t help that all you could think about was the cold! Practically wading through the thick snow as it continued to pelt you side on, your feet burning with blisters or chilblains, you weren’t sure.

Cold. Cold. Cold.

The tyres slip a little as Eddie pulls quickly to the side of the road, easily being able to make out your form despite the blizzard-like conditions camouflaging everything. You were wearing that pink beret you looked adorable in.

He leaves the engine running as he jumps out, almost slipping on a patch of ice when he grabs you by the arms. He has to yell over the wind, your body trembling underneath his gloved hands, not even able to speak.

Eddie gently maneuvers you back to the van, helping you up into the passenger seat. He blasts the heat even more once he’s behind the steering wheel, reaching behind him and procuring a blanket which he tucks around you, rubbing your arms for good measure.

“Just sit tight sweetheart, I’ll get you home.”

He peels off slowly from the curb, wipers screeching in complaint against the window as he struggles with visibility.  

“It’s l-like we’re d-d-destined to repeat this scene ovver again. You evver see the movie g-groundhog day?”

His head snaps to you and he smiles, happy to hear your voice.

“I’ll always be there to find you in the snow.”

“It’s probably best I just stop coming all together.” You’ve thawed enough to stop chattering now, shifting to tuck yourself further into the blanket.

He frowns, “Don’t say that. Everyone wants you here.”

“I’m just making it harder for you to be with your friends.”

He shakes his head, eyes flicking between you and the road. “That’s not true.”

“Then why is everyone trying to keep us apart?”

“I think they were just trying to help you feel comfortable sweetheart.”

“Wouldn’t you rather I wasn’t here?”

Eddie looks at you in disbelief, before the van lurches and his attention pulls back in front of him.

“Shit, shit, shit.” The engine stutters as he rolls to the side of the road and cranks the handbrake.

“What’s going on?”

He sighs, “We’re out of gas.”

“What?!” You lean over the middle, peering at the dashboard and the blinking red light. “How can you be out of gas?”

“Because I was supposed to fill up the next time I went out and I’ve been driving around looking for you!” You shrink back into your seat. “Sorry, it’s not your fault.”

“I know it isn’t. What grown man leaves it until the light comes on.” A smirk pulls at his lips which grows even wider when he catches you mirroring him.

“This idiot.” He points two thumbs at himself.

“Should we find a payphone to call a tow truck?” You peer out the window, unable to make out much of your surroundings.

Eddie groans and hits his head repeatedly on the steering wheel.

“What?”

“I’m the one on call tonight,” he mumbles.

“Oh. You probably should’ve just brought the truck then.”

“Yep,” he leans back in the seat, rolling his head to look at you. “I wasn’t really thinking things through. You scared me, sweetheart.”

“Sorry,” you whisper, and he offers you a small smile. “How did you know I was out here anyway?”

“Robin called her parent’s house to check in on you. Her dad said you’d gone out for a walk, but you hadn’t come back since the snow started.”

“Right. Thank you for finding me.”

He shrugs, “Like I said. I always will.”

You watch each other for a moment and Eddie’s eyes drop to your lips making a shiver run through your body.

It breaks him from his trance, “Sweetheart, we need to stay warm.” He looks over his shoulder at the back of the van, unbuckling his seatbelt and squeezing between the gap in seats. “C’mon.”

You follow him unquestioningly and he helps you with a hand on your arm. He notices the look on your face when he brings out another blanket and some pillows from a picnic basket among a small mess of boxes and junk he’d thrown back here without thought.

“They’re still in here from that time we went to Lover’s Lake. Haven’t used them since, obviously.” You offer a nod, taking the pillows and arranging them next to each other. Eddie throws the other blanket over the both of you, “Uh, we’re gonna have to get kind of close to–to stay warm.”

“Okay.”

He opens an arm out, waiting for you to slot in and pulling you both down to the floor. You breathe in his scent, a musky cigarette and peppermint enveloping you. Pure, Eddie. You’re both quiet for a while, the steady drum of his heartbeat against your ear. He sighs, and his breath shifts your hair a little, followed by his hand when he notices something.

“You’re wearing the earrings.” His hushed voice vibrating in your head makes you close your eyes.

“I love them,” you whisper back. “They make me feel a little less alone, which doesn’t make sense I know.” You feel Eddie’s lips press against your hair.

“I’m sorry sweet girl. I made a huge mistake.” Your arms squeeze him tighter, and his hand strokes the side of your face.

Eddie begins humming a tune, featherlight at first but the vibrations from his chest warm you up further.

“It was Christmas Eve, babe

In the drunk tank

An old man said to me, “Won’t see another one”

And then he sang a song

“The Rare Old Mountain Dew”

I turned my face away

And dreamed about you”

“Don’t make me sing the duet. You know I can’t sing.” You feel his smile against the side of your head.

“Then just whisper it back.”

You sigh, “You were handsome.”

“You were pretty, Queen of New York City. When the band finished playing, they howled out for more.”

After a while Steve eventually found you. Pulling up in his new truck and bursting the bubble with a loud honk. He took you both back to the apartment where everyone fussed over you, bringing hot chocolate and a hot water bottle as they finished off decorating the tree. After Eddie placed the star on top, he led you to his bedroom to find dry clothes.

You turned his gaze back to you when you undressed, kissing him once he helped you into one of his t-shirts; his Slayer one he so loved to see you in. You swayed back and forth for a moment before returning to the mayhem, the snow still falling heavily outside the window.

“Merry Christmas, sweet girl.”

He kissed your eyelids.

“Merry Christmas, Eddie.”

***

Christmas Eve

You’d actually fallen ill after that night, the snow-soaked clothes and below zero conditions culminating in a cough and a sore body. Eddie kept you in his bed and brought you cups of tea and soup.

Steve filled in for him when he went to tow his own van, and you threw a pillow at him when he said, “Aren’t you glad we dragged you down here now?”

By Christmas Eve you were feeling a little better, able to join in on the Secret Santa shenanigans, tucked under Eddie’s arm on the sofa. Dustin loved his tapes and gave you an awkward pat on the knee in lieu of a hug that could transfer germs. “I can’t afford the time off from school!”

You’re watching everyone’s interactions with each other, showing off presents, sharing stories, when Eddie untucks a red envelope from his back pocket.

“Merry Christmas.”

You beam at him, opening the card. Something falls into your lap. You pick up newspaper clippings with a confused furrow of your brow Eddie wants to kiss away.

They’re listings, for apartments in Indianapolis.

“Thought I’d beat Steve and Robin and steal you for myself. What do you think, roomie?”

You kiss him in response, leaning away when neither of you can keep your smiles from growing.

“Oh, I left your gifts at Robin’s.”

Eddie tilts his head, “You got me something?”

“Just some things I came across and put aside throughout the year. A couple of records, and this book I think you’ll like, and a new notebook ‘cause you’re always losing pages out of that black one.”

“You brought them with you?”

You shrug, “Yeah, well I figured I could just leave it under your tree and you’d think someone else got them.”

“I’d know it was you.” He smiles.

“Probably.”

He presses a kiss to your jaw, a bright flash distracting you behind your eyelids.

“Got ya.” Robin snatches the Polaroid from the camera’s slit, shaking it a couple of times before handing it to you with a wink.

It’s the perfect moment of contentment. Sharing a blanket on the sofa, eyes closed in peace, framed by the Christmas lights hanging on the wall.

It’s the first photo to be pinned on your fridge in your shared home.

Tagging: @bettyfrommars, @storiesbyrhi, @allthingsjoeq, and from last year @eddieslooneymoonie, @micheledawn1975 and @skrzydlak just in case x

[kingcenred]

He had to resist the urge to kiss away Mal's grin - as much as his mother seemed to be their biggest fan, he supposed even she wouldn't want to watch them make out. Instead, he winked at him and moved his arm back to rest over Mal's shoulders. "No? How boring," he complained, his lips twitching upwards despite himself. "Well, I suppose there's no need to change perfection..." he smirked.

Reluctantly, he returned his attention to the baby photos and a faint chuckle of his own escaped him as he flicked to the bath-time photo in question. "It would seem not," he huffed, forever thankful that the photos had never made it past the walls of the palace. "At least these ones have an artfully placed rubber duck," he glanced up towards his mother, his lips curving upwards as he shook his head at her. "Not sure I'll ever understand why it's necessary to take photos of your child in the bath," he playfully complained.

"That is because you are not a parent," she told him, moving closer to the table so she too could admire the photos. "See, look how adorable you are covered in all these bubbles," she cooed.

Playfully swatting Cenred away with a grin as he reached out to tug on a lock of chestnut hair, Mal snorted his amusement as he suggested blonde of all things. “Nope. Absolutely not.” He couldn’t pretend that anything else would suit him, not entirely sure he could imagine Cenred looking any different than he did right now — it would be utterly criminal for him to touch that lush, dark hair of his, Mal was sure of it.

The florist’s expression softened as Cenred pointed out a photograph of him as a baby in his first tuxedo — there was even a carefully handwritten note saying as much beneath it in what he assumed was Irene’s elegant penmanship — a soft huff of laughter slipping free at the rather serious look that had been captured. “I think that’s probably the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.” Mal smiled, lightly nudging the other man with his elbow. “It’s nice to know that even a king couldn’t escape the embarrassing bath-time photos either.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Exchange

Warnings: allusions to parental abuse, non/dubcon, and other dark elements. Not all kinks or triggers are tagged. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Summary: Your father surprises you for Christmas.

Character: Cole Turner

Day Twenty-Three of the December Daze Challenge.

Prompt - let me dust the snow off your coat/hat/shoulder 

Note: As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

“What the fuck are you doin’?” Your father’s snarl sends the turkey slipping back into the sink. You spin to face him, holding up your cold hands. 

“Daddy, just doin’ up the turkey,” you blink. “It’s thawed now--” 

“I don’t care about the fuckin’ turkey,” he retorts. “Should be gettin’ yourself ready.” 

You frown and look down at yourself. You wear one of his old shirts, the Ford tee with the hole near the hem and a loose cardigan Shelby from down the way gave you, over loose sweats that were once also his. Nothing you have it really your own, it’s only his scraps, what he doesn’t need anymore. 

“Ready for what?” 

“You questioning me, girl?” He growls. 

You gulp and shake your head. You lower your hand, keeping them away from your clothes as you’re all too aware of the raw poultry all over them. You stare at him. 

“Yes, sir, I'll get ready,” you step forward hesitantly, uncertain as you watch him.  

He huffs through his nose and curls his lip, “presents on your bed. Figure it out.” 

You nod as you come close to him, wary of a lunge as you thank him under your breath. He only shoulders past you and goes to the counter. You’re confused.

Your father doesn’t get you gifts. He doesn’t get anyone gifts. You spent weeks thrifting what you could to give to your aunt and uncles when they got here, altering it all to make it presentable, but he only ever reads his sci-fi books and makes demands. 

You go to the bathroom to wash your hands. You look at yourself in the mirror. Anxiety tenses in your cheeks. Every day roils with the same uneasiness. Every day for more than two decades. You should want to get away but complacence is easier. He hates you but for whatever reason he won’t let you go. 

You go to your room. There’s a bag on your bed. You don’t know why you expected something wrapped or a bow. Still, your surprised by the contents of the paper bag. 

A pink dress with long bloused sleeves and a short skirt. You lift it out and stare in disbelief. You lay it on the bed and take out the shoes with it; little white booties with fur. At the bottom, there’s a box with shiny colours streaked across it; makeup? 

Your father’s footsteps have you facing the door and he appears in his stained flannel, slurping his instant coffee. “Well?” 

“Thank you, daddy, it’s really nice--” 

“Get a move on,” he snaps his fingers at you. 

“Oh, uh, yes, sir,” you shrink down and turn to gather up the things. 

“Make sure you wash all of ya,” he sneers. “You smell like a dead bird.” 

You swallow down your embarrassment. It feels like a trick. Why would he get you such nice things but still be so mean? Where did he get the money? His Christmas bonus always goes to whatever car he’s clanking around on in the garage. 

You go to your dresser and fish out a bra and some clean underwear. Everything you have are handmedown. They are all forgotten, like you. It feels so strange to have anything brand new. 

You take it all to the bathroom and start the shower. You stick to the golden rule; no more than three minutes to get washed up. Don’t waste the damn water, your father’s voice haunts you. 

You dry off and dress. The dress is nice but a bit snug. It’s too short, isn’t it? You tug at it until you can breathe. 

You once more face your reflection. You are lost. You do your best to tame your hair then put on the dollar store cream.  

You open the box of cosmetics. You read each label and search for any instructions. There’s nothing.  

You uncap the liner and examine the tip. You pull your eyelid taut and meticulous draw a thin line over the edge. You let it go. It looks okay. Not tacky or anything. You do the other and do your best to even them out. 

Next the mascara. You fear scraping your eyes but coat your lashes without incident. It looks better now. You blink as you take in the effect. The blush... you’re not very sure. You blend a bit into your cheeks but don’t think it makes much difference. 

Finally, you gloss your lips with the stick of pink. You like the colour but the sheen feels unnatural and sticky. Your father clears his throat as he prowls outside. You sniff and pack everything up. That’s as good as it gets. 

You step out as he grumbles in the kitchen door frame. You glance over and he huffs. “Put the damn shoes on. Whatcha draggin’ your ass for?” 

You flit back to your room and grab the boots. You think of grabbing socks or something but you don’t have anything to go with the dress. Your legs will just be cold. 

You come back out on the heels, wobbling slightly. Your father storms at you from the front door, moving quicker than you’ve seen. He shoves your coat at you. You pout as you try to unravel his intent. 

“Daddy?” 

“Go wait outside. He'll be here soon, won’t he?” 

“He? Daddy?” 

“You’re so fucking mouthy, go.” 

He jams his thumb at the door and you flinch. You take the coat and pull it on. It doesn’t go with the dress or boots. What’s going on? 

“Are you coming?” 

“Fuck off,” he pushes you toward the door and you stumble into it. 

You put your chin down as you plant your feet and pull away from the door. You put the coat on before you untwist the lock. You are lost. 

He slams the door behind you before you can shut it yourself. You shiver as you step onto the porch and search the wintery country fields. There isn’t much snow, enough to dust the ground, but the air is crisp. Your legs are scalded by the early freeze. 

You stare off in the distance. Your heart pumps faster as a thought startles you. Did your daddy just kick you out? Why? On Christmas? 

You see the square headlights first. The pale blue truck winds down the hidden dirt road and steers towards the old homestead. You squeeze yourself as another chill sweeps over you as you watch the approach. Hooked to the back of the truck is a long trailer, the contents covered. 

You recognise the silver trim of the truck. You squint at Cole through the windshield as he pulls up, the exhaust clouding the frigid air. The door shrieks as he pushes it open and you chatter as you bring your hands to your raw cheeks. 

“Hey, you look frozen,” he says. “Merry Christmas.” 

“M-merry Christmas, sir,” you call back. You still don’t understand. 

“I’ll just unhook the load for your dad, then we can head out,” he grins as he keeps his hand on his open truck door. “Got the heat going, you wanna get in before you freeze your knees off?” 

You wince and turn to peek at the windows. Huh? You shrug and come down the steps. You’re so cold, you don’t care. You just want to stop shivering. 

Cole closes the driver’s door and leads you around to the passenger’s side. He pauses to dust snow off your shoulder as flakes swirl down lazily. His touch somehow makes you colder. He opens it and holds out his gloved hand to help you up. He’s always polite but you don’t see him very much. Your daddy did a few repairs on his truck and he would help with the garden in the summer. You were always inside, locked up. 

You let go of him, your hand thrumming from his warmth. He gently shuts the door and continues towards the rear. The truck jostles as he unhooks the trailer. You peek in the mirror and see the thick ends of the wooden planks poking out from under the tarp. It’s a lot of wood. Expensive, probably. 

None of this makes sense. Cole comes up to the driver side and gets in with a ‘brrrr’. You blow into your hands and he reaches to turn the vent up even higher. He smiles at you as you avoid looking at him. 

“Ready?” He asks. 

You hunch down and rub your hands together, “for what?” 

He’s quiet. He peers through the windshield at the house then back at you. You shrink under his gaze. 

“Did your dad... what did he tell you?” 

You heart thumps. Will you get in trouble if you don’t go along with whatever this is? “He didn’t... he just told me to wait for you.” 

“Ah,” he reaches once more to wipe away melted snow from your sleeve. “Well, er...” He stiffens in his seat. “I thought he’d... say something.” 

You just nod. Whatever you say or do will get back to your daddy somehow. He’ll be mad if you ruin whatever this is. 

“It’s a lot of wood. Your dad says he’s going to add onto the garage,” Cole speaks as he shifts gears and steers away from the trailer, circling back towards his tire tracks. “Not many folks got that kind of money and I don’t really need anything done on the truck.” 

Your lashes flutter in furious thought. It feels like this should be obvious but your mind isn’t clicking. 

“Did I say you look really nice?” He clears his throat. “Cold, but nice. I shoulda bought some stockings too.” 

You look down at the rosy skirt and shake your head. A piece slips into place. Of course it wasn’t your daddy who bought it all. 

“Oh, you—thank you, Cole,” you squeak as you smooth the short hem. 

“Well, I figured you’d want to look pretty. I mean, you always do, but... it’s Christmas, right?” 

He sounds nervous, just as much as you. You wring your hands and look around the white landscape. Your stomach is a storm. 

“It was nice of you to bring daddy all that lumber, sir,” you say. 

“Please, call me Cole,” he insists. He’s quiet for a moment as he steers, then sucks his teeth. “Or you could call me something nicer. Like... honey?” 

“Honey?” You eke out. “Why-- uh... oh?” 

You furrow your nose and rub between your brows. That dark feeling crawls up from your stomach as the doubt in your head trickles down to meet it. It’s not making sense but... 

“You still look cold,” he reaches over to rest his hand on your knee, “you can get warm...” He tickles along your skirt then bends his arm up and stretches it out to grab your shoulder. “Come here.” 

You blanch but make yourself slide over. You tremble as you do. He curls his arm over your shoulders, his other hand on the bottom of the steering wheel. 

“See, isn’t this nice?” 

Your eyes prick as that rotting sensation in your chest overwhelms that voice in your head. You sniffle and touch your nose. You squirm as the cold seeps away to unbearable heat. Your denial melts under the flames of dread. 

“Sir-- Cole,” you twiddle your fingers. “Where are we going?” 

He chuckles and slows, turning to plant a kiss on your hair, “you’re going to come meet mom and dad. They are very excited to have you for Christmas.” He squeezes you even tighter, “not as excited as I am though.” 

Your chest hollows out as if you’ve been hit directly in the heart. You can’t breathe as it sets in. It’s absurd but there’s no other explanation. Did your daddy really trade you for a cartload of wood? 

Well, he always did love his cars more than you. You hope it’s a nice garage, that it’s worth it. Well, it would be worth more than his useless daughter. 

[natashaslesbian]

All I Want For Christmas

Summary: You fall sick while your mom is away on a mission, what’s worse? It’s Christmas Eve

Request: Blackhill x daughter reader and reader x Kate maybe - reader gets really sick whilst Natasha is away on a mission

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: Flu symptoms

—————————————————————————

“Hey kiddo, how you feeling?” Your mom asked as she brought you a new bowl of soup. “Gross” you coughed as you sat up in bed. “Did you get through to mama?” You asked Maria “no sweetie I’m sorry, she’s probably just busy fighting” she said as she helped you to sit up. “I miss her” you whimpered, thinking of the redhead. Unfortunately, Natasha was called away on an urgent mission that was expected to last for at least three weeks. You had gotten sick just after she left and to make things worse, your mama would be gone for Christmas. Thankfully, you had your mom and your best friend Kate there to look after you. “I miss her too baby” Maria frowned “eat your soup and try to get some more sleep okay, Kate can call me if you need me alright” she said as she pushed away your baby hairs. You nodded weakly as the archer brought up a spoonful of soup to your mouth.

It was an hour later while you were sleeping that Kate noticed your sudden short breaths, you could barely breath through your nose. She gently tried to move your head and carefully pry your mouth open to allow more air. Although her touch was light, you woke up in a raging coughing fit. “Sorry baby” Kate cooed as she slowly sat you up, you struggled to suck in a breath and soon began coughing up the mucus from your throat. “Oh y/n, you’re okay, it’s okay” Kate said as she grabbed the trash can “I’m gonna call your mom okay” she sadly smiled. “I want mama” you cried. You loved your mothers just the same but Natasha held the softness that you craved so deeply right now. Maria was the ‘stricter’ parent so you usually went to your mama for comfort and to Maria for the more practical advice to navigate your teenage years. “I know baby” Kate said, trying not to take your words to heart.

Maria arrived at your room in record time “ok I think it’s time to go and see Bruce” she said when she saw your frail body leaning over the trash can. “No” you whined, leaning into your girlfriend’s cooling touch. “She’s right y/n, this isn’t just a cold anymore” Kate said, helping to shift you into your mom’s arms. “Put me down! I don’t want you!” You cried. Maria knew you didn’t really mean it, but she couldn’t help but wish Natasha was here to make you feel better. Your mom got you to Bruce quickly and the doctor concluded that you had a dreadful flu. “I have some antibiotics but I think she needs rest more than anything, try and get lots of fluids in her and make sure she gets some sleep” Bruce said. “I am here you know” you huffed from your chair. “Sorry y/n. You can head back up to your room okay. Hopefully you’ll be feeling a little better for Christmas Day.” You scoffed at his words “fuck Christmas. It’s gonna suck anyway” you said. “Language kid” Maria scolded, making you even more angry than you already were.

You stomped angrily back up to your bedroom, ignoring your girlfriends attempts to sooth you along the way. “What are we gonna do with her?” Maria sighed in defeat when she found the archer in the corridor. “She needs Natasha” Kate said, causing the agent next to her to frown “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that” she said. “It’s okay” Maria sighed again. “I’ll go sit with her, I have some schoolwork to get done” the archer coughed, walking away from the awkward situation she had accidentally created. Maria kept her welling tears at bay as she retreated to her own bedroom, hers and Natasha’s. The brunette sat in her own silence for a while before reaching towards her phone. It was almost deafening as the phone continued to ring, not connecting to the one person she wished to hear from. “Oh where are you baby” Maria said as Natasha’s voicemail came through the speaker. The brunette was about to give up when the familiar ringtone of her phone began to play. She quickly reached for the mobile she had just discarded on the bed “Natasha?” She asked in a hopeful tone.

You went straight to sleep once you got back to your room and considering you were so peaceful when Kate came to check on you, she decided to let you sleep through dinner and to the next morning, through to Christmas Eve. You couldn’t quite tell what time it was when you wake and the grogginess in your head was still present. “Hey gorgeous” Kate smiled as she opened the door, fresh cup of coffee in hand. “Mmm, what time is it?” You questioned as you rubbed at your sore eyes. “It’s just gone 11” your girlfriend said. “Ok, and ugh, what day is it?” You whined “it’s Christmas Eve” Kate said, joining you on the bed with a hidden gingerbread cookie. You rolled your eyes at her festivities “you could’ve just said December 24th ya know” you huffed, groaning when a rough cough caught you off guard. “Oh baby” Kate cooed “Still not feeling great huh?” She asked, you shook your head in agreement. “Is there anything I can do?” She said. “Mommy” you whispered, feeling the tears burning behind your eyes, you were too sick to be embarrassed about how pathetic you felt. “Oh my love, she’s not here baby, remember? Nat’s still away” your girlfriend frowned. “No, I want mom, I want Maria” you sniffled.

Kate scurried away like her hair was on fire and before you could even blink Maria was stood in your doorframe. “Hey kid” she sheepishly said “how are you feeling?” She asked. “Sick” you whimpered, finally letting your tears fall. “Oh sweetie” your mom cooed as she came rushing to your side “it’s okay, I’m here, I’m here alright and I know that you want your mama but I’ve got you for now okay” she said. “No, no mom I’m sorry” you sniffled “I do want you, I just want mama too. I want you both here” you cried, struggling to catch your breath in between the chesty coughs racking your ribs. “I know sweet girl, easy, deep breaths ok” Maria said. “Why did she have to go no of all times” you sobbed “we always have Christmas together, just the three of us” you whimpered, sinking into Maria’s arms. “Well you know what Fury’s like, but never underestimate the power of your mothers” your mom said, nudging you to look up at the door.

“Hey baby girl” a familiar voice said as she stepped into the light. “Mama!” You sobbed, attempting to throw yourself towards the redhead. “Hey, hey, I’m home, it’s okay, I’m home now” Natasha said, rushing to your side and making sure you didn’t use what little energy you had left to get up. “Bu- how- how did you?” You muttered through your tears, while holding on tight to your mama. “I told Fury where to stick his mission” Natasha smiled, pulling you into her embrace. “Won’t he be mad at you?” You asked. “Who cares if he is, my y/n needs me so that’s where I am” Natasha smiled, gently kissing your forehead. “Merry Christmas baby” Maria said wrapping her arms around her girls. “Merry Christmas mom, merry Christmas mama” you said, eyes still shiny with tears, happy tears. Because finally, all was as it should be.

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A/N: Happy Xmas Eve everyone! Sorry this is a day late tumblr was being an ass

- Astara Bell

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