#Contender Beans
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Ugh I literally have so much work for my two real classes this week and I also decided to read a whole book for my half a class which I really DIDNT have to do normally I just read two articles so adding a whole book on top of my normal work has been absolutely killing me my brain hurts so bad I think my head is going to explode
#bean babbles#and it’s like#I study anthropology so EVERYTHING I have to read is going to be racially charged in some way#and so it’s just so emotionally draining having to read all this racist text and the deconstruction of those racist practices#I have one class and we are reading a book on Palestine#in my other class we are currently talking about NAGPRA#and then this book I chose to read for my half class is about how aboriginal people were treated by the Australian government#it’s just so much awful shit I have to contend with for each class
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gonna call my cat whiskey
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so were any of you going to TELL me about partitio’s ‘peaches’ banter with agnea or was I just supposed to find it myself
#GLOVES OFF???? A TO G???????#contender for funniest travel banter#just kept going#octopath traveler ii#octopath traveler 2#octopath traveler 2 spoilers#octopath traveler ii spoilers#partitio yellowil#agnea bristarni#bean plays octopath ii
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when no one got me, I know a flat white does
#kyle.txt#best coffee no contenders#the half and half the not to much foam mwah mwah mwah perfection#you can also genuinely still taste the beans if they r intresting
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Princess Party Pt 2 | Lando Norris x Best Friend! Reader
Summary: After a drunken night with his best friend, Lando ran away from the consequences. Over the next eight months, he's reminded that he made a huge mistakes.
Warnings: Swearing. Angst. Baby fever. Pregnancy. Lando redemption.
Blonde female reader with various faceclaims. Pics found on Pinterest.
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YourUserName posted a new story
liked by oscarpiastri, yoursister and others
georgerussell replied to your story
georgerussel63 let’s hope that bean doesn’t expect homemade treats in the future
→ YourUserName this is exactly why i’m crying so thanks for the reminder!
→ georgerussell63 oh no, i was joking. i'm so sorry! don’t cry! i’m on my way with ice cream
→ YourUserName i’m over ice cream now. i'll take hot dogs?
→ georgerussell63 don’t tell charles. he just released an ice cream line for you
charles_leclerc replied to your story
charles_leclerc don’t cry, y/n/n. bean has a life supply of free ice cream. she won’t even like cookies
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YourUserName just posted
liked by alex_albon, carmenmmundt and others
YourUserName not long now. (i believe george called this nesting)
1,123 comments
lilymhe counting down the days until i become a godmother
→ francisca.cgomes lily we’ve talked about this. i know the number for a good therapist, help with your delusions
→ alex_albon ladies, ladies, please. we’ve already had this fight. you both lose
→ georgerussell63 you all lose because i’m the only contender for godmother
→ YourUserName none of you are godmother unless you show up to meet bean in a red sparkly dress and a wand
→ georgerussell63 stop watching shrek 2
→ YourUserName never!!!
oscarpiastri the room is really coming together. those drawers look amazing
→ YourUserName i ask you to help me build one piece of furniture and i never hear the end of it
danielricciardo 2 months to go! not that i’m counting. or excited. in any way shape or form
flonorris1 such a beautiful room. bean has such an amazing mum
charles_leclerc baby incoming!
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YourUserName posted a new story
liked by carmenmmundt, yoursister and others
alex_albon replied to your story
alex_albon bean's just training to be an F1 driver
→ YourUserName isn't the term usually footballer
→ alex_albon oh, please. that kid won’t be a footballer if uncle george and i have anything to do with it. we’ll make her the first female wdc
→ YourUserName my poor baby. what untalented uncles she has
→ alex_albon oi!
georgerussell63 replied to your story
georgerussell63 carmen says bean was kicking so much because she’s excited to meet her aunty
→ YourUserName and carmen would be right
→ georgerussell63 i told carmen it was because bean heard my voice and loves me so much already
→ YourUserName and you would be wrong
→ georgerussell63 pregnancy has made you mean
→ YourUserName nah, the hormones just make you less tolerable
→ georgerussell63 after all i’ve done :(
→ YourUserName <3
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YourUserName just posted
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YourUserName welcome to the world baby bean l/n-norris tagged: landonorris
1,098 comments
landonorris my two beautiful girls. no words will ever express the amount of love and gratitude i have for you but i will spend the rest of my life trying to show you
→ danielricciardo simp
carlossainz55 congratulations. you make beautiful parents
alex_albon little bean is the most beautiful girl ever. i don’t think i’ve stopped crying since you named me godfather
→ lilymhe he really hasn’t. but tbf, i haven’t stopped crying since you named me godmother
→ yoursister i still think she should revoke alex's godfather title. traitor
→ alex_albon i apologised!!
→ georgerussell63 it means nothing!!!
charles_leclerc baby bean is here! i am so excited. we can have little playdates
→ alexandrasaintmleux charles, i don’t think bean will be able to play with leo for a good while
→ YourUserName no but i can! bring him over!!
danielricciardo who’s crying? not me. let me know when you feel ready for visitors as i may have bought a ‘few’ things
georgerussell63 beautiful girls. thank you so much for letting me be part of this journey, and for naming me godfather
→ YourUserName it’s a thank you for driving me to the hospital and holding my hair back whilst i puked. i don’t know what i would’ve done without you and carmen
carmenmmundt it was such an honour to be part of this beautiful journey with you.
→ YourUserName thank you for being there for me. bean and i cannot wait for our first brunch date with aunty carmen
maxverstappen1 i am very happy for the both of you. she’s beautiful
oscarpiastri the most beautiful baby. i hope she’s enjoying that dresser
→ YourUserName let it go, pookie x
francisca.cgomes i haven’t taken my godmother hoodie off since you gifted it to me
→ pierregasly can confirm. i'm sick of looking at shrek’s face anytime i walk behind her
mclaren our beautiful papaya baby. we can already promise that she will be the most spoiled girl in the paddock. we’re already setting up a racing nursery 🧡
→ mercedesamgf1 except she will be spending time in our garage
landonorris just posted
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landonorris to my beautiful daughter and her astounding mother. i am in awe of the pair of you. for the past nine months, i have been the biggest idiot on the planet. and yet both of you welcomed me back into your lives without a second thought. y/n, i have loved you since we were 12 and you kissed me because i grazed my knee falling off my bike. instead of telling you that, i dragged you around the world with me whilst i raced, falling more in love with you each day. your generosity and kindness never fail to wow me. to those who don't know, i was a complete idiot. i ran away from my responsibilities and yet, she didn’t hesitate in giving me a second chance. not just as a father but as a partner. she brought our beautiful bean into the world, and i will forever cherish the pair of you. you are my whole world, and if i ever upset either of you, george has full permission to run me over with his car. to y/n and bean, i love you both forever. you are my everything.
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alex_albon i’m so happy for you, mate. you owe me for all the grey hairs you gave me
→ landonorris i’m grateful for your friendship, mate. i owe you for so much more than just that haha
→ YourUserName @ alex_albon you’re still in trouble
→ lilymhe yes he is
carlossainz55 felicidades, compañero 🥳❤️
danielricciardo well done, brother. y/n did an amazing job. i’m glad you took responsibility
fernandoalo_official what a beautiful family. make sure you cherish it
georgerussell63 y/n made such a beautiful bean
→ landonorris hey, part of my dna is there too (but, yes, yes she did)
→ georgerussell63 unfortunately
oscarpiastri the caption is why you kept asking me for synonyms? but seriously, i’m so glad to have been part of this journey for both of you
pierregasly 🥳🥳🥂
mclaren papaya baby! we cannot wait to see baby bean in the paddock. she’ll be the most important part of race week
arthur_leclerc i cannot believe someone willingly had a baby with you, especially someone as beautiful as y/n
liked by YourUserName
user1 anyone else notice that none of the wags commented on this post despite y/n being in it?
→ user2 you can guarantee they all commented on hers though because they’ve all been gushing about buying baby stuff
→ user3 they really said y/n may have forgiven him but we certainly don’t
user4 y/n stronger than me because if my baby daddy walked away from me and my child for the entire pregnancy just to decide he wanted to be a father once it was born, i’d cut his dick off
user5 guys, not only did we finally get lando and y/n together. we got mom and dad y/n and lando together
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landonorris just posted
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landonorris happy 1st birthday to my prettiest princess. you’re my favourite mini muppet in the world but if you don’t stop growing then you and daddy are going to have some words. (also, daddy best be the only prince charming in your life)
15,449 comments
YourUserName whoa whoa whoa, i thought you were my prince charming
→ landonorris sorry babe but you know you lost me the minute i looked into her eyes
→ YourUserName and here i go crying again
danielricciardo mate, do you really think calling yourself daddy in an insta post is a good idea?
→ landonorris @ YourUserName pay up, i told you he’d make it weird
→ YourUserName damn it, daniel. you just cost me a back massage
georgerussell63 and best godfather of the year award goes to me for the princess castle
→ alex_albon liar! best godfather of the year ‘twas me. she danced with me the most and wanted me to have the second slice of cake
oscarpiastri can’t believe princess bean locked me in the dungeon
→ landonorris she wasn’t impressed that you overtook me last weekend
→ oscarpiastri sucks to suck, i guess
francisca.cgomes i still can’t believe my baby brunch buddy is 1!! when did that happen?
→ landonorris @ YourUserName has enjoyed playing with the brunch kitchen kit more than bean has
→ YourUserName why would you expose me this way? i pushed a kid out for you
alex_albon happy birthday baby bean! can’t believe it’s been a whole year of spoiling you
→ User6 does this mean alex has been forgiven?
→ YourSister no.
→ alex_albon don’t lie to the internet. you gave me a hug earlier
→ lilymhe it was only so she could spit in your drink, honey
charles_leclerc happy birthday, bean! she is the most adorable little girl. i think i will need to wear my fairy wings on the weekend to help me go faster
→ pierregasly i’ve already told alpine that they need to add my tiara to the helmet
User7 okay but can we all appreciate the fact that this little girl had the majority of the Grid at her party, all dressed in some way as princesses
→ User8 @ YourUserName c’mon, we all know you’re a girls’ girl, release the photos of the princess grid
→ YourUserName shh, i have to wait until they're racing so you've all got 2 hours to save them before they make me take them down
maxverstappen1 P had the best day with bean, and said that y/n is her new bestest friend
→ YourUserName aww my heart. please bring P around for playdates forever though, she’s the best kid
→ kellypiquet she was so exhausted she fell asleep in her princess dress
→ YourUserName so did lando
→ landonorris hey!
→ YourUserName you started it
User9 i think we’re all asking the same thing; when are you having the next one?
→ landonorris @ YourUserName so..? 👀
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Baby Fever Angst Series
F1 requests are open!
Tag list - so sorry if I missed anyone. It wasn’t finding a lot of people
@bibissparkles @barcelonaloverf1life @rlalliehayes @softtina @callsignwidow @lav3nder-haze @minkyungseokie @luvrrish @evans-dejong @sadsierra2 @justdreamersdream @spookystitchery @dark-night-sky-99 @majusialikesfastcars @luckyladycreator2 @mrosales16 @reguluscrystals @tvdtw4ever @alwaysclassyeagle @gigicisneros @spanishcorndogs @thecubanator2 @goldenharrysworld @awritingtree @jxnellat @hc-dutch @buckybarnessweetheart @ironmaiden1313 @dreamercrowd @yourbane @reguluscrystals @peachiicherries @rosecentury @prettypink11 @emmynotawards @tinyhrry @sltwins @daemyratwst @lemon-lav @noneofyourfbusinessworld @bwormie @leclercsluvs @spanishcorndogs @hard4ndsoft @formulaal @classiclitfreak @weekendlusting @evesfile @powerpuffgirly @leclercvsx
#baby fever angst#formula 1#f1#formula 1 smau#f1 smau#formula 1 social media au#f1 social media au#social media au imagine#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 headcanon#formula 1 drabble#formula 1 one shot#formula 1 fluff#formula 1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 headcanon#f1 drabble#f1 one shot#f1 fluff#f1 x reader#lando norris#lando norris imagine#lando norris drabble#lando norris headcanon#lando norris one shot#lando norris fluff#lando norris smau#lando norris x reader
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Part 7 is finally here! I only gave this a quick look over so if there are any glaring issues (like a random cut off sentence) please let me know! I was just so excited to get this one out.
Content: Brandon.
For all the power and influence it has amassed, SpecGru is a notoriously discreet and secretive operation. Mind, no one’s ever strolling down the street shouting their criminal affiliations for God and everyone to hear, but even by criminal standards, SpecGru is like a collective boogeyman. By the time most anyone knows they’re there, it’s already too late – and the rare (verbal) survivors only ever see masks and guns.
Granted, no small part of SpecGru’s prestige comes from whispered stories and unconfirmed rumors. Criminals are locker room gossips, the lot of them. Not that it’s completely unfounded. An execution is an execution, whether someone died with all their teeth and nails or not. (Usually not)
Few people know Price as more than a shadowy theoretical. (Someone must be in charge, that’s how the mafia works.) Even fewer know his face, never mind his name. It’s just good business that way.
In fact, SpecGru’s entire inner circle is shrouded in mystery. There’s not just the gray silhouette of the Don looming over their enemies’ heads. There are the lieutenants to contend with as well, acting on his direct authority, speaking on his behalf (with permission, of course) in his absence.
And then there’s Price’s right hand, the de facto boss should something happen. His heir, for all intents and purposes.
For those that have met Price in person, and by extension his few but devoted confidants, there’s always debate.
Is it Soap, loud and brash, but sharp as a whip? A decisive man, affable with a hidden mean streak?
Or is it Ghost, the quiet and calculating figure always at his side? A deadly and brutal enemy, shrewd and observant?
Kyle lets them stew in their assumptions and reminds himself that they’ll learn eventually – or they’ll be dead. He’s not fussed either way. It would suit SpecGru just fine if a few of those knobs keeled over sooner rather than later.
If only they knew that the hand that would one day grip their leashes was currently holding your purse so that you could pet a cute dog.
Not that Kyle minds; you have good taste. In purses, that is – though the dog isn’t half bad. A fluffy white and grey thing with a stumpy tail, practically crawling onto your pretty blue skirt as you coo and fawn. He started recording the minute you handed him your bag. (Price owes him for this.)
“His name is Mister Beans,” the uni girl enthuses to you.
You practically sob. “Mister Beans!”
He’s loath to hurry you along, but he’s supposed to meet up with Price for a Business meeting in only a half hour. Thankfully, you’re a considerate sort and don’t linger for long.
“Thank you so much, have a great day!” you cheer to the young woman. Then you turn back to Kyle, smiling huge. “Wasn’t he so cute?”
He chuckles. “It was. Wish I could have pet him, but white hair on this suit…”
You hum sympathetically. “I have a lint roller in my apartment.”
“I’ll scratch the next one,” he promises, offering your purse back.
You take it with your far hand and another mumbled “thank you,” then loop your closer arm through his. Don’t even seem to think about it, just accept the escort automatically. Kyle tries not to beam with pride. He used to have to prompt you, holding his elbow out at an awkward angle for you to get the hint. Now, you reach for the arm of whoever you’re with on instinct – as you should. (Another thing Price owes him for.)
“Do you like little dogs?” you ask, strolling with him for your apartment.
In the office, you’re a speedy little thing. Zooming from your desk to Price’s and back at velocity deserving of a ticket. Soap calls you a busy bee and it’s apt. Fluttering to and fro with stacks of papers or your tablet (“Reginald” you call it) everyone knows to make way at the click-click of your smart heels.
Outside, though, your purposeful stride slows to something less awe-inspiringly machinelike. Little Miss at work is a much different creature from Little Miss off the clock – but Kyle quite likes both.
“My mum had a little white dog while I was growing up. Crusty old thing,” he explains. “Prefer medium sized myself. Like a corgi.”
You giggle. “Like the royal family?”
“Oi, I liked ‘em before that.”
You just laugh harder at his defensive tone, patting his arm. He’s always impressed by how fearlessly you joke and tease him and the others. Have taken everything in stride from the beginning, didn’t even flinch when you first met Simon. If he didn’t know better, he’d almost think you had no idea just who you arched your eyebrows at this morning because of a “scheduling disagreement.”
“Speaking of dogs…” you mutter, mirth disappearing.
He follows your gaze through the clear glass of the building’s entry vestibule. Your ex is standing inside, already spotted you and fluffing up like the cock he is.
“Mind keeping back, doll?” Kyle murmurs.
You make a noise of protest even as you hand him your keys. “He’s not going to do anything after what Soap did.”
There’s an ugly black cast around his hand and up his wrist. Kyle smirks at him through the door.
“Rather not take any chances,” he replies.
You huff a bit, but quietly slip your arm from his, letting him take the lead into the building. (He still holds the door for you of course – he’s not a numpty.)
“Get the fuck out, mate,” Kyle says as soon as the door opens.
Brandon looks downright taken aback. “And who the fuck are you?”
“None of your business,” you interrupt, stepping up beside Kyle.
“The hell it’s not!” Brandon replies, taking an angry (stupid) step forward. Kyle mirrors him, making a point of loosening up his shoulders. In a surprising display of good sense, Brandon stops there. “Look, bunny, a high-value man needs a high-value woman.”
Your voice comes out flat and unimpressed. “And that’s you, is it? A high-value man?
Brandon rolls his eyes but sighs, as if he’s trying to be patient with you. Kyle’s fingers twitch. His piece is burning a hole against his back.
“Obviously. I have a degree, a six-figure salary, and two properties – all under forty. I’m objectively attractive, work out regularly, don’t smoke. I’m a good catch, don’t kid yourself that you can do better.”
At Kyle’s elbow, you go very still. The type of still that precedes blood and screaming. He’s seen it in Ghost before.
“Then why are you here?” you ask, tongue dripping acid. “Since you’re such a catch.”
Brandon sighs and shakes his head, trying for fond exasperation and only achieving constipated.
“I’m not willing to just throw away two years. I’ve invested a lot in this relationship, and we can still make it work.” It actually starts to make Kyle nauseous, the way he talks about you like a business decision. “I mean, you have some things to make up for but eventually, we can go back to the way we were.”
“And what,” you say through gritted teeth, consonants sharp enough to pierce skin, “do I have to make up for?”
Kyle listens, flabbers absolutely gasted, as Brandon answers.
“You ran off to play desk bunny for a man I don’t know. God only knows what ‘favor’ you did to land that job. You’ve lowered your value as a marriable woman but there are ways to make it up to me—”
“Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to?”
Kyle’s ears ring like the first time he heard his mum curse.
Brandon looks taken aback too. You don’t give either of them a chance to respond.
“I know it’s not fucking me. Because if you were talking to me, you’d be stupider than you look.”
Brandon’s face flushes with anger. He takes another step forward. Kyle takes two in return, shaking his head in warning. Unfortunately, Brandon doesn’t know how to read his face any better than yours.
“C’mon, mate, it’s common sense. A lock that opens for any key and all that.”
Kyle’s heard it before. “Women ain’t locks, mate.”
“If you don’t get out of this building right fucking now, I will ruin your life,” you snarl.
Brandon does a double take. “Is that a threat? You can’t—"
“You bet your pasty ass it is,” you reply without missing a beat. You raise your voice every time he tries to interrupt, barreling through his weak protest like a train. “Fifteen fucking minutes. That’s all it would take to destroy you, your stupid sister, your bitchy mother, your pervert father, and that fucking slag you got pregnant twice.”
Kyle’s eyebrows rise with each word until he’s fairly certain they’ve floated up to the ceiling somewhere.
Brandon, though… Brandon’s face is ashen.
“How… how did you…?”
“Get. The fuck. Out.”
Kyle doesn’t give him the option to refuse. He scruffs Brandon by the back of his bland suit and shoves him out the first door of the vestibule. It closes and locks just as he turns around, a rebuttal finally juddering to his bloodless lips. You haven’t even turned to watch him go.
Kyle approaches you feeling a bit like he does coming to Price with shit news when he’s already pissed.
He almost says, you sure know how to pick ‘em – but thinks better of it. There’s practically frost forming beneath your feet, the air around you is icy.
“Walk you up, little miss?” he asks, offering his arm.
You gently take his arm and exhale heavily. “If you don’t mind.”
“Not at all.”
You invite him in at your door. Your hands are shaking a bit. He politely accepts, shooting Price the others a text that he’ll be a bit late. He’s not about to leave you in a state.
As usual, you step out of your shoes at the door, leaving you in your shimmery stockings, then pad to the kitchen.
“Tea?” you ask as he follows.
“I haven’t the time, doll, I’m sorry. I just want to make sure you’re alright before heading out.”
You turn, expression softening. Just like that, you’re back to your usual self, sweet as honey.
“I’ll be alright, I think,” you reply, sighing. “That was a long time coming.”
He leans his shoulder in the doorway, unable to help chuckling at the memory of your ex’s gobsmacked expression. The corners of your mouth curl up in shy amusement.
“Seemed like it,” he replies. “We should weaponize those f-bombs you dropped.”
That coaxes a giggle out. “Graves would be first on my list.”
“The boss’s too.” And oh, Kyle can’t wait to tell Price about this. (As if he needed another reason to hate Brandon and adore you.)
“Christ,” you groan, “you’re going to tell him about this, aren’t you?”
He’s at least able to muster an apologetic grimace. “You know I have to, sweets.”
“Suppose I’ll get the really good tea tomorrow,” you muse.
“He liked those pistachio scones from the corner café, too.”
You light up. It just so happens that they bake your favorite muffins too. “Good idea.”
“I’m full of ‘em.”
You snort, but there’s a fond smile on your face. Regretfully, he notes the time on the stove clock behind you.
“You’re sure you’re alright here by yourself?” he asks.
“I’m sure,” you promise, crossing to give him a warm hug. “I lock the door and windows like Simon told me.”
“Atta girl,” he says, pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning, yeah?”
“Seven sharp!” you chirp.
He pauses at the door, “You call if there’s any trouble.”
You poke your head around the corner. “You don’t sign my paychecks; you can’t tell me what to do.”
He points right back at you. “That’s from the bossman direct.”
“Then he can tell me himself.”
He arches his brows. You blink.
“Don’t tell him I said that.”
He chokes back a chuckle. “Sweet dreams, little miss.”
“Get home safe, Kyle!”
As far as business meetings go, one with Los Vaqueros is almost pleasant. Sure, they always try to overprice their products, but haggling them down is practically a game between Price and Vargas by now. The shipping agreement between them and SpecGru is long established by now, a major link in the international arms market.
“Negotiations” are relaxed enough that Rudy and Valeria are playing cards with Ghost and Soap at the sitting table, whiskey glasses at their elbows. The plan for the next six months is all but set when Price suddenly jerks. In an instant, his face goes dark, shoulders tense.
“Something wrong, hermano?” Vargas asks.
“I’m getting a call.”
Soap and Ghost snap to attention.
There are only a handful of people that can reach Price during a meeting. All but one is in this room.
As he brings the phone to his ear, Kyle sees your name on the screen.
“Yes, love?” he answers.
Even from a couple feet away, Kyle can hear your voice through the receiver – high and panicked. Kyle’s already reaching for his keys.
“He fucking what?” Price barks.
Soap and Ghost jump to their feet, cards and drinks forgotten.
“Barricade the door, get a knife. We’ll be right there.”
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#cod#my writing#fanfiction#reader fic#mafia boss price#mafia!au#assistant!reader#oddly wholesome for a mafia au#brandon the crash dummy
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Ducky Turn! | Vivianne Miedema x Reader
You watched as Viv walked into the press conference room, trailing slightly behind Jonas. She was chatting animatedly to Connie, one of the Arsenal staff, and holding a reusable coffee tumbler in one hand. You also know that inside that tumbler is Viv’s favourite coffee "Morning Bliss," a small-batch, artisanal coffee roaster that you had bought from one of the local coffee shops in your area. She would sometimes bring a small bag of coffee beans to training or match days, and when you would ask her where she’ll find supplies to make the coffee, she’ll reply back with a“if there’s a will, there’s a way”. It’s become the only brand of coffee that Viv drinks.
Every morning, Viv likes to indulge herself in what she calls her “ritual”. The dutch begins her ritual by carefully measuring out the perfect amount of Morning Bliss beans. She prefers a medium roast, with notes of caramel and toasted almonds that allow the perfect balance of sweet to the bitter. She would grind the beans to perfection and then use the fancy sleek, stainless steel drip coffee maker that she had treated herself to a few months ago. As she waits for the brewing to complete, she would bask in the stillness and the quiet that is a rarity these days– or at least during the last 3 years.
Viv would then pour herself a cup, inhaling deeply as the steam rises and the aroma fills the empty kitchen. As she takes that first sip of her perfectly brewed coffee, Viv could not help but smile. For her, starting the day than with a cup of her favourite coffee is the second best thing to start the day. The first is–
She hears the pitter patter of little feet before she sees her.
“Mama!”
Evelyn, or Evie for short, is the best parts of you and Viv. Everyone says Evelyn is a spitting image of you—from the blonde curls that tumble down her back in unruly waves, to her vibrant hazel eyes, flecked with hints of green and gold. Evelyn has your nose, petite and slightly upturned, and dotted with the same freckles across her cheeks that Viv loves to kiss every night before bed.
You say it’s too early to tell what kind of person your daughter will grow up to be, but you swear she’s Viv's mini me. They both have the same stubbornness (although Viv would argue you were also a contender), the same outgoing personality, and the same sheer curiosity for the world around her. Like you, your little girl is always eager to explore new places and try new things. Whether it's taking the dogs out on new hiking trails, or embarking on a family camping trip, her adventurous spirit knows no bounds.
During her ballet class, Evelyn loves to wear colourful ribbons and bows in her hair. She keeps the same ribbons in her hair during football practice too. When she laughs, her nose crinkles up in the most adorable way, just like Viv. She loves to burst into a song or hum the tune of her favourite music, just like you do. She is your pride and joy, and your greatest accomplishment in life.
But she is also a whirlwind of energy that leaves a trail of chaos and laughter in her wake wherever she goes.
Viv recognises that gleam in Evie’s eyes and the furrow in her eyebrows as she glances at the last two steps leading to the kitchen.
Her daughter was going to jump.
Viv hastily puts her cup down and lurches forward, catching the tornado that is her child. There is not a day that goes by where Viv does not thank her athleticism for being able to keep up with her little daredevil.
She grasps her fearless little girl under her arms just before she can land the short distance to the ground. “Mama, Ducky jump!”
“I saw that, Ducky” She settles Evelyn on her hip, pressing a few kisses to her rosy cheek still warm from sleep. “But I’d rather not see that again. How many times have I told you you can’t jump from there”
“But I jump, Mama. Like a duck jumping in water!” Ducks are the little girl’s latest fixation– she loves going to the pond to watch the ducks, she loves to talk about ducks, she loves her duck stuffed animals etc. Viv thinks your daughter’s fascination with ducks was inevitable. When Evelyn was born, she was sweetly bundled in a light yellow blanket with a matching yellow beanie to warm her little head. Your private midwife briefly commented about how Evelyn little lips were constantly pursed in a pout whenever she slept, like that of a little duckling. Ever since then, “Ducky” became one of her nicknames.
Evelyn points one little chubby finger towards the kitchen counter where a plate of bite-sized waffles await her.
“Waffles!”
Viv snags the plate of waffles off the counter and deposits her duck-obsessed child into her booster chair. She hands her a fork and takes a seat on the chair right beside her. “Waffles yellow– like duckies, Mama!”
Viv smiles endearingly at her daughter, all cherubic face and bouncy curls. “Just like duckies, Evie”
——————————
Now at the press conference, you watch as Viv and Jonas take their seats in front of the press, politely saying a few greetings to some familiar faces. Viv’s eyes meet yours briefly and she offers you a quick wink.
Jonas leans forward in his seat and starts the press. “Hello, everyone. Let’s get this started then– I’ve got Vivianne Miedema with me today”
Being married to a footballer had it’s perks– free match tickets, the cool events, club merchandise, and the occasional Adidas billboards of your wife which your daughter loves to excitedly point out every time she spots one. However, sometimes it seems not everyone understands the difference between the Viv, the mum and wife, versus Vivianne Miedema, the footballer.
“Everyone” being your toddler.
She still hasn’t fully grasped the fact that her Mama can’t be on her beck and call, especially while she is at work. At the age of 3, she can’t tell the difference between the football that she plays at school and the football that her Mama plays. To her, it’s exactly the same.
After all, during her football practice if she looks to the sidelines where the other mummies and daddies are watching and yells for her Mama, her Mama will come running. In Evie’s mind, if she wants Mama, she’ll go to Mama.
You glance down at the little girl tucked in your arms. She was all buzz and energy throughout the match, crawling from lap to lap, jumping, dancing and shouting. It was no surprise that she was starting to doze off now. You were standing off to one side of the room, leaning against the wall to support the weight resting on your front. Evie was curled up in your arms, her eyes tiredly blinking open and closed a few times. Her tiny body was limp in your arms, her breath was evening out, and just like when she first came into this world, her little rosy lips were formed into a pout.
Just like a little duckling.
But despite your soft whispers to try to and lull her to sleep, your stubborn child was determined to fight the pull of slumber. You knew she wanted to see her Mama, just as she always did after a match. It was their routine, and Evie hated breaking routines.
“First question for Jonas…” You tune out the press for a brief moment, reaching out to adjust the yellow noise cancelling headphones that were slipping off of Evelyn’s head when all of a sudden she opens her eyes and sits up in your arms. You didn’t have to guess what had woken up your child when you hear it. “– now a question for Viv Miedema…”
What was once a sleepy and tired toddler is now gone. In it’s place is a little girl who has realised her favourite person is in the room. Her eyes were now bright and alert, craning her neck to follow the sound of her mama’s voice booming from the speakers around the room.
“…don't really think I celebrate goals but all the girls came up to me and they were taking the mick out of me because they were like 'You were actually celebrating’–“
You should’ve anticipated it. You should’ve know it. But by then it was too late.
“Mama!”
Your daughter yells for Viv, lurching forward with her arms open and fingers pointing towards where Viv was sitting at the front of the room. You had no choice but to crouch down so you could stead your suddenly wiggly child.
“Ducky, that’s enough” You speak in a hushed but firm tone. You knew that if you were to use your “Mummy voice” it would likely result in tears, and your daughter was not a quiet crier. “Mama is working right now”
But Evie was very determined to get to her mama, hastily trying to tug away from your hold on her arm. You knew heads were turning towards the both of you.
“Want Mama!”
“Evelyn–“ You try to hug her, wanting to pick her up and run out of the room before she causes anymore distractions. Right now she was the epitome of an incoming toddler tantrum. Her chest heaved with each shaky breath, her small shoulders rising and falling with the weight of her emotions. Her cheeks flushed pink with frustration, and her fists clenched at her sides.
“No no no no!” Her favourite word as of late and she was proudly demonstrating that she knew just how to use it. "No NO!"
Her big, doe-like eyes were glistening with unshed tears. Her bottom lip quivered as she stood cocooned in your arms, but furiously squirming away from your hold. In your daughter’s mind, being told that she can’t go to her Mama right now was the most devastating thing in the world, and the injustice of it all was threatening to overwhelm her.
“–Liefje”
You look up as the sound of your wife’s voice and the familiar nickname echos around the room through the microphone. You crane your neck and you spot her now standing up from her chair, holding the mic to her mouth. She gives you a knowing smile. Viv always knows what to do.
“I’ll take her, Liefje. Give her to me” Viv waves a hand, beckoning you both closer.
You pick up your still teary, pouty daughter and hoist her up to your hip. You walk the short distance towards the front of the room where Viv and Jonas are waiting.
“Looks like Mama wants you, ducky” You murmur softly in Evie’s ear, pushing the curls of hair away from her eyes. Like a switch, your daughter perks up in your arms, twisting her head towards where you were heading. You could feel her little legs kicking the air in excitement. What a mood switch.
You stop by the side of the small stage, placing Evie on her feet and quickly grab her hairband that was in your pocket. “Wait one second, Ducky. Let’s fix your hair.” There were cameras around and you would imagine that 10 years from now, your daughter will never forgive you if you let her stand in front of the cameras with a bird nest on top of her head.
The hairband dangled from your fingers as you attempted to tame Evie’s unruly locks into a neat ponytail. But your daughter was having none of it. She wriggled, clearly eager to get to her Mama, as she batted your hands away.
And like always, Viv knew just what to do to keep your daughter from fussing. Temporarily. “Hi Ducky”
“Mama!” Chuckles round the room when mother and daughter exchanged waves of greetings to each other as if they hadn’t seen each other for days when in reality it had only been a few hours.
You sighed, a hint of amusement twinkling in your eyes as you gently combed through Evie’s hair with your fingers. “Almost done" you coaxed, your voice gentle and patient as you worked to wrangle your little girl’s wayward curls. You settled on just pushing the front pieces of hair away from her eyes with the hairband. “All done. Now you can go to Mama”
Evie did not need to be told twice.
Her little legs pumped furiously and her curly hair bounced behind her. She ran around the table, past Jonas’ chair, to where Viv was standing waiting for her. Viv swings her daughter up to her hip and you watch as Viv leans close to whisper by her ear– most likely prompting Evie to greet the journalists and cameras. Your suspicions were confirmed when your little social butterfly happily waves a hand and bellows a little “hello!”
Your smile widens when her greeting is echoed by all the journalists, some waving back just as eagerly as your toddler.
Viv then proceeds to sit back down, placing Evie on her lap. Your wife adjusts her chair and shuffles closer to the mic. “Sorry for that everyone…”
She gestures to the toddler who is currently conspiring with the Arsenal manager. “This one is going through a phase where I am her favourite person, and I’m making the most of it until she realises her Mummy is more fun than me”
Laughter rings around the room, but all you give the grinning dutch at the table is an eye roll. You know Evie loves you, but her bond with Viv was something special. Evelyn is Viv’s little shadow.
One of the journalists kindly gestures for you to take the seat next to him in front row of the table and you thank him as you take a seat.
“Right then. Let’s continue…” Jonas starts the press again, and this time, your toddler is happily sitting on her Mama’s lap.
———————————-
So far the press is continuing on as normal. Journalists are prepared with questions for Viv and Jonas. “My question is for Viv.” You crane your neck to see a journalists a few rows behind you hold a hand up. “You have broken countless records in England. Arsenal literally put you on a pedestal with a temporary statue outside the Emirates Stadium, a first for a female player. Do things like that matter?” Viv leans forward towards the mic. “No not at all. I’ve already had five great years but I indicated to the club that we have to do better. Other players have done that too. Hopefully the club can bring in some reinforcements this summer–
“AH!” Evie leans up, her little head nearly clashing into her Mama’s chin if it weren’t for Viv’s reflexes, and speaks directly into the mic. She giggles when it echos back.
You wince as the mic feedback rings loudly in the room.
“–Ducky, this mic is not for you. Mama’s trying to answer the question” Viv whispers but it obviously gets caught by the microphone and broadcasted to the entire room. You press your lips together to conceal your giggle as you watch your wife attempt to coax your daughter into letting go of the mic stand. Unfortunately, it seems your daughter is very fixated on the microphone because she tries to grab for it again.
But Viv is faster. She hauls Evie off her lap for a second, turning her around so she is facing Viv and not the mic.
“Ducky turn!” Your daughter whines loudly. She is clearly displeased at being turned away from her new toy. She pouts, twisting her body back around, and points at the mic. “Ducky turn! Ducky turn!”
You never though you would say this, but maybe there are consequences in teaching your daughter how to share and take turns.
And your wife seems to think the same. “Well…at least you all have proof that we are teaching her how to take turns properly” She chuckles endearingly at the pouty toddler on her lap.
“Okay” Viv relents with a sigh. “Ducky gets a turn.” She lifts Evie and turns her back around so she is facing the rest of the room, the press, and her shiny new toy– the black microphone.
You shake your head as you watch your wife visibly soften. Evie has Viv wrapped around her little finger from the day she was born. Viv is almost always unable to deny her daughter anything, even if she claims to be the more stricter parent out of the two of you.
“Since it’s Ducky’s turn, why don’t you have a go at answering the questions then?” Viv pulls the chair closer towards the table so Evie can reach the mic more comfortably. She directs the question to everyone in the room, clearly giving the reporters permission to ask Evie some questions.
Not a second later, a few hands are up in the air. You smile at the sight of these very professional reporters taking the time to entertain your daughter’s antics, no matter how silly they may be.
Jonas playfully gasps and leans into his mic. “Wow Evie, look at that! So many people want to ask you questions”
“What do you think, ducky?” Viv asks the grinning toddler in her lap. “Which question shall we take?”
Your daughter cutely scrunches her face in concentration, one chubby little finger tapping her lips as if she was contemplating the secrets of the universe. You watch as she scans her choices of eager hands, and then points to a man sitting by the front row. You watch as Evie lean up to whisper something to her Mama and then turns back around with a shy smile.
“Evie will take a question from the man in the front row with the yellow tie” Of course, it’s the yellow tie. Anything yellow is guaranteed to win your daughter over.
“Hello Miss Evelyn. My question for you is: what did you think of your Mum scoring two goals today?”
You watch as Viv pulls the mic closer towards Evie, giving her a nod of support when your daughter turns to her for encouragement.
“Uh…” You cringe internally as your daughter presses her mouth as close to the mic as possible, practically gnawing on it, and the sound is magnified by the speakers. The press seem to take it to stride, a few coos of encouragement sounding around the room. “…I like duckies”
“Oh! That’s nice” Bless the journalist. You doubt that bit would make it to the final draft of the article. “Ducks are quite nice, aren’t they?”
Your daughter nods and hums into the mic, wriggling from her spot on your wife’s lap, clearly eager to talk more about her favourite subject. “Duckies yellow!”
You watch as the journalists couldn't help but be charmed by Evelyn’s enthusiasm, their professional demeanour melting away as they listened to your spirited little girl. Some even leaned in closer, eager to catch every word she says, the cameras capturing the moment.
“Ducks are yellow, clever girl! But let Mama have a turn now, please” You try to stifle your laughter behind your hand as Viv has to practically wrestle the mic away from Evie, grabbing both of her little hands in one of hers to settle the mischievous toddler.
———————————————
Viv was more than happy to continue the rest of the press with her daughter in her lap, even if she has to routinely stop and grab a little hand as it beelines for the microphone. Viv lets Evie babble into the microphone a more few times and she couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride in her heart. She may be a footballer on the pitch, but her greatest joy was sitting right here in her lap, eager to share in her world, one stolen microphone at a time.
“Do you want to say anything to Mummy?” Viv points you out for your daughter to see. It was already nearing the end of the press conference. "Anything to say to Mummy before we finish?”
Your daughter thinks for a moment, her face titling to the side and her nose adorably scrunching up in concentration. Thinking about what to say to your Mummy is a very big task for a 3 year old. The room goes silent as everyone waits with baited breath.
“…I- I love you, Mummy”
Hey, my loves!
It's been while since I posted and that's mainly due to life getting in the way + not being inspired to write. By some miracle, I somehow managed to finish writing this short little fic (featuring a different player this time– surprise!). This was inspired by seeing that cute video of Alex Morgan and her daughter doing post-match interviews lol
hopefully this will only motivate me to keep on writing.
I appreciate all of you, thanks for being patient
-- kisses, butter
*This work is my original creation. Please don’t copy, share, or translate it without asking for my permission first. Thanks for respecting that!
#woso x reader#vivianne miedema x reader#vivianne miedema#woso community#woso fanfics#woso imagine#woso#viv miedema
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a not racist version of the food poll abt american foods :)
contenders also included corn dogs, sweet potato casserole w/ marshmallow and brown sugar, and rocky mountain oysters
#poll#ive only not had the fried butter but i dont go to state fairs thats why lol#some of these ill eat any time others you couldnt pay me to have again
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Forbidden - Part 3
In which you finally get what you've been begging for.
Warnings: smut. a lot of smut. nearly 4k words of smut. Minors DNI PLEEEEASE. swearing. unprotected sexy time (wrap it up loves). oral (fem receiving). p in v sex. did i mention smut?
Pairing: Max Verstappen x LeClercSister!Reader Words: 3.8k
Part 1 Part 2 Master List
BELGIUM
“Get in here.” Max growls, yanking you into his drivers room before anyone has a chance to do a double take and realize who you are. The moment the door snicks closed, he shoves you against it, pinning you there with his hips. He doesn’t give you a moment to even take a breath before his lips are on yours, tongue slipping into your mouth in a searing kiss that steals the air from your lungs.
He’s been doing that a lot lately, making you breathless from the heat of his touch. Ever since that night in Austria, every spare moment the two of you get is spent hidden away making out like a couple of teenagers. You haven’t had this much fun in years.
“Ow, Max.” You whine against his lips when his fingertips dig what you’re sure will be bruises in the morning into the flesh at your hips. Nipping at his bottom lip, you try to warn him away from marking you like that. You can’t imagine what your brother would do if he happened to see finger shaped bruises anywhere on you, especially if they were from Max.
“I’m sorry.” He mumbles, dropping his head to the crook of your neck where he licks at the heated skin there. “I’ve been forced to watch you galavant around the paddock all fucking day with Kika and Alex in that fucking dress and haven’t been able to do a damn thing about it.”
Your hands wind up his body before locking together behind his neck, pulling him even closer to you. “Oh, so you like the new dress?”
You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t worn the daisy yellow gingham dress with him in mind because you totally had. You had picked it up in London earlier in the week while on a shopping trip with a few of the girls and had known instantly that it would torture Max. It was dangerously short with a ruffled hem and a bow that sat right in the valley of your chest, calling attention to the tanned skin there. You had certainly gotten more than a few lingering looks from several of the drivers and engineers that morning but the person you had been trying to tease had fallen straight into the trap.
“I don’t know if I should tell you to change into sweatpants and a giant sweatshirt or kiss you in front of everyone just to get them all to quit looking at you.” He grumbles as you shiver from the scratch of his scruff brushing against your neck.
You roll your eyes, knowing he wouldn’t do either. The two of you had come to an agreement somewhere between Austria and Hungary that whatever was happening between here was something that should be kept secret. Not because either of you were ashamed of the other. It was quite the opposite. If Max had his way, he would have you draped in Red Bull navy and red all weekend but there was a little issue you both had to contend with: Charles.
You knew your brother was becoming suspicious, which worried you. Every time you slipped out of the garage during race weekends, or would go hours without returning his calls or texts while you were in Monaco during the week, he pestered you for an explanation. Most of the time you thought quick enough, using work as an excuse but you knew that wasn’t going to last forever. You knew that eventually, if this thing turned into something…more, that you’d have to spill the beans, which would probably result in World War Three between him and Max. But for now? Now you were just enjoying the thrill of sneaking around with Max Verstappen.
You two still hadn’t slept together, much to your chagrin. You understood why Max had put the breaks on that aspect of your relationship but you were growing needier by the day. Most of the time you were both on the same page, wanting to make sure that this thing between you was real. In between the make out sessions that you were able to steal away for, you had movie marathons and hours long talks covering just about everything and anything the pair of you could think of. He insisted that he wasn’t with you for a quick fuck and you believed him but a girl had needs and it was getting frustrating.
“What do I have to do to convince you to fuck me on that massage table right now?” You whisper in his ear as his tongue laps against your collar bone, a shimmer of excitement shooting down your spine at your boldness. Your drag your hands through his hair, tugging at the blond locks hard enough that his mouth is forced away from you, icy blue eyes hitting you with a stare so intense your knees nearly buckle.
Max shakes his head, a chuckle starting deep in his chest. With him at a bit of a distance now, you finally are able to get a good look at him for the first time since he pulled you into the room like a rag doll. Qualifying was starting in less than 30 minutes so he’s already in his fireproofs, the tight white fabric clinging almost obscenely to his muscled chest. His racing suit is peeled down to his hips, the sleeves of the navy blue suit dangling down close to his feet. You’d never seen him look hotter.
“If you think I’m going to fuck you for the first time in this tiny room where you can’t be as loud as you want when I make you come, you are insane, schatje.”
If there was one thing you were discovering about Max, it was that he had the dirtiest mouth on him and that mouth had ruined several pairs of your skimpiest panties already, and you had barely gotten past second base with him.
You don’t get a chance to respond though, your retort interrupted by a sharp knock on the door.
“Max! Horner wants to see you before quali, he’s kind of on the war path.” GP calls from the other side and you’ve never been more thankful that Max’s race engineer is polite enough not to enter a room without knocking.
Max rests his forehead against yours, frustrated at the interruption. “Be there in 5.” He groans, unable to keep the annoyance out of his voice. “Wait here for ten minutes, then you should be good to leave. Turn left out the door and you can sneak out the back.”
You nod, suddenly not really liking the whole clandestine sneaking around you two have been doing. Sure it was fun but a little part of you wanted to be able to go out into the paddock with him. “Good luck then. But not enough luck to out qualify Charlie.” You say with a wink, pushing aside the annoyance of what you had to hide for now. You didn’t want to think too deep into things, the vulnerability that would be required for going public with Max not something you were sure you could handle.
With one last kiss on the forehead, Max shuffles around you, tossing a wink at you over his shoulder before closing the door behind him with a sharp click.
************************************************
“I nearly ended up in the god damned wall three times this afternoon, you had me so distracted.” Max murmurs later that night.
It had taken some maneuvering getting away from Charlie and Carlos that evening with the way they kept insisting that you needed to stay for just one more drink or one more story. It was almost like they suspected that you wanted to be somewhere else instead of out at dinner with them. Which was absolutely true but they couldn’t know that. Finally, you had to fake a migraine to get out of the fifth round of drinks so you were able to escape back to your hotel room. But you hadn’t gone back to your hotel room, of course. You had come straight to Max’s.
“Maybe I should stay away from you on race weekends then.” You say cheekily, earning a sharp smack on your ass from Max as he hauls you towards his bed.
“Absolutely not, schatje.” Max’s gaze goes feral at the suggestion. “You have no idea what you do to me. I’d be worse off if you were gone.”
And it was the truth, which scared the shit out of Max. He was desperately trying to figure out what was going on between the two of you, trying to figure out how keep his feelings for you reigned in while simultaneously needing to spend every spare moment he has with you. He’s never been one for romantic attachments, much preferring one night stands or time alone. But that was before you came waltzing back into his life. He was just trying to figure out how to tell you he was falling head over heels for you without scaring you off or causing your brother to go into a murderous rage.
He was still working on both.
You preen under his affection as he tugs you towards the bed. You feel that need deep in your belly once again, hoping that tonight will finally be the night Max doesn’t slam on the breaks mid-makeout session. The sight of him climbing out of his car after putting it on pole was undoubtedly one of the sexiest things you’d ever seen. You feared what your body would do if he won tomorrow.
“Why Max Verstappen, it sounds like you have a crush on me.” Your voice is low and raspy, embarrassingly needy.
Max grabs you around the waist, pulling you down on top of him causing you to squeal in delight. “I have much more than a crush on you.” His confession has you grinning down at him like a fool.
With one swift movement, you find yourself underneath Max, his strong arms pinning you down into the mattress. The heat the floods your belly travels down to that spot between your legs, making you squeeze them together. The look Max gives you says that he knows exactly what he’s doing to you. He rocks his hips into yours, seeking the friction that he’s been craving since earlier in the day when you had the quick make out session in his drivers room.
“Kiss me, Maxie.” You beg. The neediness in your voice sends a jolt of electricity shooting down Max’s spine, landing straight in his already hard cock. There was no way he was going to be able to stop himself tonight. Not after all the teasing you two had been doing for the past however many weeks.
Max obliges, dipping his head so that his lips capture yours in a heated kiss. He’s been dying for this moment all fucking day. A thrill of pride floods his system when you moan into his mouth, tongue slipping past his teeth to lick up against his. “Fuck.” He groans. “I need this dress off of you right now.” He orders, sitting up so you can follow suit.
Without a second thought, you practically rip the dress off your body, tossing it across the room while Max lifts his team polo up over his head. You’ve seen Max without a shirt before but every time feels like the first time. You can’t help but admire the lean muscle that hides under his clothing, thrilled that you’re the one that gets to touch him so intimately.
You’re left squirming below him now, left only in bits of white lace and satin. If Max had less self control, he would have plunged into you right then and there. But he was a patient man and knew that he wanted to make you come before he got anywhere near you with his dick.
“Lay back.” He orders, an air of authority causing you to listen obediently. “I want to taste you.”
You practically groan at the thought of his tongue in between your legs but you don’t have to wait long before that thought becomes reality. With your head resting against one of the fluffiest pillows you’ve ever felt, you watch Max shimmy down your body with heavy lidded eyes. His long fingers slip beneath the waistband of the white lacy panties you picked up on the same shopping trip as the dress, pulling them down achingly slow. “Max.” You breathe, squirming under his touch.
Before you know it, you’re completely bare underneath him, save for the white bits of lace covering your chest and Max is nestled between your legs, staring up at you like you’re something to be devoured and savored at the same time. One finger dips into your center, an obscene sound causing you to gasp against his touch. “Look at you.” He murmurs, voice full of awe. “You’re so wet, pretty girl.”
You nearly come from Max calling you ‘pretty girl’, Lord help you when he actually fucks you.
“Have you been like this all day? Poor thing, all soaking wet and needy for me. Can I help you take care of it?” His voice drops an octave, a deep raspy baritone that sets your skin aflame.
All you can do is whimper in response, nodding your head vigorously.
Max lowers his lips to your skin then, nipping at the delicate skin at your thighs. Your hips lift on their own accord, a faint buzzing in your head taking over all coherent thought. Your entire existence stutters down to the sensation of Max’s scruffy face between your legs. When he finally brings his mouth up to taste that slick wetness that’s been begging for his attention all fucking day, you bow up off the bed, desperate with the need to have something, anything touch you there.
“Max.” You gasp, hands fisting the creamy white sheets beneath you. Never in your life has anyone made you feel the way he does right now. “Oh my God, Max.” One hand finds it’s way to his head, tugging on his hair so hard Max can’t help the moan that escapes his lips.
You know you sound so pathetically needy, whining and whimpering as Max licks and sucks and eats at your soaking wet pussy, obscene sounds filling the quiet hotel room.
“Do you like that, schatje?” He asks, voice muffled a bit because he refuses to move away from where it’s buried between your legs. “Do you like my tongue between your legs? What if I added a finger or two? Do you think you’d like that, sweet girl?”
It’s all you can do to simply nod, your voice suddenly non-existent. Max is true to his word and as soon as you’re done nodding, he slips not one but two fingers inside you. Your hips snap up off the bed once again at the sudden intrusion, overstimulation now threatening to make you collapse. Legs trembling, you squirm under his touch.
“That’s it. Look at you, taking my fingers so well. I can’t imagine how well you’re going to take my cock. Such a good girl.”
The words are just too much but when Max latches his mouth onto your clit finally, you hurtle over the cliff that he’s been pushing you towards for weeks now. Your orgasm is swift and hard, your body going stiff for a split second before you languidly melt into the mattress, riding out the waves of pleasure as Max continues to pump his fingers in and out of you, coaxing more pleasure out of your body than you thought was even possible.
“Jesus fuck, Max.” You sigh, looking down at a very smug Max who is still settled between your legs. You’re practically boneless, limp against the soft duvet beneath you.
Max scrambles up your body, lips swollen and glistening with your slick arousal. He kisses you hard, the taste of you on his lips so utterly intoxicating you don’t know what to do. Without thinking, you reach behind your back, unhooking your bra so you can get more of your skin in contact with his. Max groans appreciatively seeing you completely bare underneath him. He palms one perfect breast while lowering his lips to the other, sucking the already hard nipple into his mouth. The hum of pleasure vibrates against your skin, sending waves of pleasure skittering down your spine. Max rocks his nearly painful erection into your center, the friction from the thick material of his joggers rubbing against your sensitive skin so deliciously you nearly come a second time.
“Max.” You pant, fingers sifting through his thick hair. “Max, please fuck me.”
Max smiles up at you, your second nipple now caught between his lips. “Someone is needy tonight.”
“Always needy for you.” You whimper.
Max’s sweats are off his body so quick you barely register what’s happening but the next thing you know, the head of his hard cock is sliding in and out of the mess between your legs. He pumps himself a few times with his strong hand, looking down at you with the most tender look on his face. “You sure? There’s no going back after this. You’re mine after tonight if we do this.” His tone is serious, like what’s been building between the pair of you is coming down to this very moment.
“I’ve never been so sure of anything in my entire life.” You tell him, hand coming up to frame his strong jaw.
When Max sinks into you the first time, the sting of his size has you digging little half moons into his back with your long, Ferrari red nails. The moan that comes from the back of your throat is downright pornographic but Max has never heard anything better. He gives you a moment to adjust to the fullness of him, wanting to make sure you’re okay. You are so achingly full with him, it’s almost too much. He’s everywhere all at once, covering your body with his lean frame, filling all of your senses with nothing but his scent, his body, his touch.
Max eases into you slowly, inch by aching inch. It’s just as much for his benefit as it’s for yours. If he goes to quickly, he knows he’s going to embarrass himself. He wants this, needs this to last as long as humanly possible. His eyes flutter shut at your blinding tightness, breath stuttering out of him in quick bursts. “Christ, schatje. How are you so fucking tight?” He murmurs in your ear, bracing his arms on either side of your body.
You’re completely speechless underneath Max, the sensation of being stuffed so full of him tearing any ability to speak away from you the second he’s inside you.
Max struggles to control himself for a few moments before he slowly begins to move inside you. The strokes start out slow, so achingly slow that you can’t help but whine underneath him. “Faster.” You pant, despite your desire for this to last for the rest of your life. “Faster, Max.” You beg.
The pair of you find a rhythm so easily it’s nearly scary. It’s almost like your bodies were molded at the same time with each other in mind, that’s how easily you come together. Max rocks in and out of you, significant length hitting that spot deep inside you every time he pushes deeper inside you. You lock your legs around his back, bringing him even closer to you. All the while, Max’s gaze never leaves yours and you sink so deeply into their depths you momentarily think you might be completely lost to him. You’ll realize hours later, as you fall into a gentle slumber against his naked body, that you are completely lost to him. They say sex complicates things. But with you and Max? With you and Max, sex only makes things clearer.
The hotel room is quiet save for the moans coming from the both of you. Slick skin slapping against heated flesh is so erotic, you can’t get any words out you’re so distracted by the sound. Max pumps in and out of you, setting a blistering pace that has the both of you hurtling towards release.
“So. Fucking. Close.” He grits out, lips attaching to your collar bone in desperate need to get closer to you. “Are you going to come again, baby? Going to come on my cock? I love how messy you are beneath me.” Max continues the string of obscene chatter in your ear, allowing you to hurtle towards your own release with him.
“Oh my God, Max. Don’t stop. Please never stop.” You beg, nails leaving deep scratches in his back. That was going to be hard to explain to his physio tomorrow.
Max grunts once, twice, three times before he flings himself over that cliff but not before he grabs your hand and yanks you over with him. His release is sudden and strong, painting your insides with his hot pleasure. He groans in your ear, that sound being the last thing you hear before you’re spasming around his cock, velvet walls gripping him so hard he can’t move for a few moments.
Max melts into you once he starts to come down from the high you brought him, dick remaining inside of you as long as he can manage. His breath is labored, filling his lungs in quick spurts. He can’t remember the last time he had orgasmed that hard, if ever.
Your legs are still locked around him but eventually, after what feels like hours, Max gently pulls out, his cum mixing with your own slick mess. The evidence of what the pair of you had just done leaks down your legs in one of the most erotic images you’ve ever seen. Rolling onto his side, Max pulls you along with him so your back is flush against his chest, sweaty skin sticking to yours.
You’re quiet for a while, brain too foggy with pleasure to say much of anything beyond a murmur of satisfaction here and there. Exhaustion plays at the edges of your mind, desperately wanting to slip into that tranquil state now that you are fully satisfied. “Max.” You breath, enjoying the way his arms curl around your body. “That was…” you sigh, struggling to find the words.
“Did I fuck you speechless, pretty girl?”
“I think so.” You murmur, snuggling even deeper into his arms. “I think so.”
“Good.” Is all he says before pulling you impossibly closer. “Now sleep, we’ll clean up in a little bit, okay?”
Not having the energy to argue or do much of anything other than nod, you simply agree before closing your eyes, basking in that post-orgasm bliss that had settled over both you and Max.
Tag List (send me a message if you want to be included!!) @shelbyteller
#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#max verstappen#max verstappen x you#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen fanfic#this may just be my best work YETTTTT
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GUYS!!! Stop saying Coyle is singing his ABCs wrong!!
"T, P, D, A, T, F, C, I, A, F, B, I, U, S, P, I, S, D, O, D, S, S, S, U, S, A."
He's not singing his ABCs he's just using the same tune, they're all acronyms
TPD = ?*
ATF = Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives
CIA = Central Intelligence Agency,
FBI = Federal Bureau of Investigation,
USPIS = United States Postal Inspection Service,
DOD = United States Department of Defense,
SSS = Selective Service System,
USA = United States of America
Okay? So let's all stop saying he's uneducated or illiterate because he's definitely not. Pre-Sinyala Coyle kept "obsessively complete notes" according to Clyde Perry's account, and furthermore just look at his pretty handwriting on the evidence boxes, that's not an uneducated scrawl. Coyle is willfully ignorant, but he's not lacking in basic literacy skills.
"But Leon, why did he misspell Guilty as Giltee on the Scapegoat?"
Well, friend, I don't entirely know. But as he's spelt it correctly in other places, he probably did it on purpose, matching his dialect to emphasise his point. Maybe he just forgot about the U and by the time he'd started carving the L he knew he needed to commit to his fuck up.
*Sooo I have some theories as to what TPD could stand for.
Total Permanent Disability. In one of Coyles' dialogues, he mentions his Father losing his foot in the Battle of Hürtgen Forest. That injury would likely see him permanently disabled and unable to work as he had before (it's implied that Coyles' parents were cattle ranchers), therefore he would be entitled to welfare checks.
Tulsa Police Department. Tulsa and Blackwell are within 2 hours drive of each other and it's very possible that Coyle completed his training at the Tulsa Police Academy before going on to work for the Blackwell Police Department. Tulsa also has history of violent racism, which would appeal to Coyle.
Tactical PSYOPS Detachment/United States Psychological Operations. There was extensive use of psychological operations in World War II, and given everything that the Outlast Trials are about I think this is a worthy contender.
Tobacco Products Directive. This was the only other thing I could think of that would make sense in conjunction with Coyle, but it's a European Union directive, and therefore I think it's unlikely this is what Coyle is referring to, but I still thought it was worth mentioning.
If you have any better ideas please feel free to share them!
A big big thank you to my friends in the Coyle Crew: @misa-bun @soggy-bean and @mortisdeth for their help in researching, theorising and giving me moral support when I thought I was about to lose it
#leland coyle#sergeant leland coyle#sergeant coyle#officer coyle#the outlast trials#outlast trials#outlast#friends stuff#its just a theory#backed up by evidence
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We are now just a few days away from the end of the submission period for the Hot Medieval and Fantasy Men Melee, and our Entrants stand numbered at 250!!!
Submissions will close on the 27th of June, so if you have a hot medieval/medieval fantasy guy (or multiple of them) you'd like to see compete, send them in!
Here is a list of our Noble and Worthy Contenders so far.
If your man isn't here, that means he has not been submitted.
The Contenders
So Far…
Adhemar, Count of Anjou [Rufus Sewell], A Knight's Tale (2001)
Prince Aemond Targaryen [Ewan Mitchell], House of the Dragon (2022-)
Alessandro Farnese [Diarmuid Noyes], Borgia: Faith and Fear (2011-2014)
King Alfred the Great [David Dawson], The Last Kingdom (2015-2022)
Ahmed Ibn Fahdlan [Antonio Banderas], The 13th Warrior (1999)
Antonius Block [Max von Sydow], The Seventh Seal (1957)
Aragorn, Son of Arathorn [Viggo Mortensen], The Lord of the Rings Trilogy (2001-2003)
King Arthur Pendragon [Alexandre Astier], Kaamelott (2004-2009)
King Arthur Pendragon [Bradley James], BBC’s Merlin (2008-2012)
Athelstan [George Blagden], Vikings (2013-2020)
Ash Williams [Bruce Campbell], Army of Darkness (1992)
Brian de Bois-Guilbert [Ciaran Hinds], Ivanhoe (1997)
Brother Cadfael [Derek Jacobi], Cadfael (1994-1998)
Carlos I [Álvaro Cervantes], Carlos Rey Emperador (2015-2016)
Prince Caspian [Ben Barnes], The Chronicles of Narnia (2010)
Cesare Borgia [Mark Ryder], Borgia: Faith and Fear (2011-2014)
Cesare Borgia [Francois Arnaud], The Borgias (2011-2013)
Prince Chauncley [Daniel Radcliffe], Miracle Workers: The Dark Ages (2020)
Prince Daemon Targaryen [Matt Smith], House of the Dragon (2022-)
Khal Drogo [Jason Momoa], Game of Thrones (2011-2019)
Lord Eddard Stark [Sean Bean], Game of Thrones (2011-2019)
Edgin [Chris Pine], Dungeons & Dragons: Honour Among Thieves (2023)
Éomer, Son of Éomund [Karl Urban], The Lord of the Rings Trilogy (2001-2003)
Étienne de Navarre [Rutger Hauer], Ladyhawke (1985)
Faramir, Son of Denethor [David Wenham], The Lord of the Rings Trilogy (2001-2003)
Finan [Mark Rowley], The Last Kingdom (2015-2022)
Sir Galahad [Michael Palin], Monty Python and the Holy Grail (1975)
Galavant [Joshua Sasse], Galavant (2015-2016)
Gawain [Dev Patel], The Green Knight (2021)
Geralt z Rivii [Michał Żebrowski], The Witcher (2002)
Geralt of Rivia [Henry Cavill], The Witcher (2019-)
Sir Guy of Gisborne [Basil Rathbone], The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938)
Sir Guy of Gisborne [Richard Armitage], BBC’s Robin Hood (2006-2009)
Prince Hamlet [Laurence Olivier], Hamlet (1948)
Hubert Hawkins [Danny Kaye], The Court Jester (1955)
King Henry II Plantagenet [Peter O’Toole], The Lion in Winter (1968)
King Henry V Plantagenet [Tom Hiddleston], The Hollow Crown (2012-2016)
Prince Henry [Dougray Scott], Ever After (1998)
Hugh Beringar [Sean Pertwee], Cadfael (1994-1998)
Inigo Montoya [Mandy Patinkin], The Princess Bride (1987)
Jareth [David Bowie], the Goblin King, Labyrinth (1986)
Jaskier [Joey Batey], The Witcher (2019-)
Prince John Plantagenet [Claude Rains], The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938)
Lancelot [Santiago Cabrera], BBC’s Merlin (2008-2012)
Legolas Greenleaf [Orlando Bloom], The Lord of the Rings Trilogy (2001-2003)
Madmartigan [Val Kilmer], Willow (1988)
King Mark of Cornwall [Rufus Sewell], Tristan and Isolde (2006)
Mikoláš Kozlík [František Velecký], Marketa Lazarová (1967)
Merlin [Colin Morgan], BBC’s Merlin (2008-2012)
Niccolo Machiavelli [Thibaut Evrard], Borgia: Faith and Fear (2011-2014)
Prince Oberyn Martell [Pedro Pascal], Game of Thrones (2011-2019)
Peregrin “Pippin” Took [Billy Boyd], The Lord of the Rings Trilogy (2001-2003)
Pero Tovar [Pedro Pascal], The Great Wall (2016)
Ragnar Lothbrook [Travis Fimmel], Vikings (2013-2020)
Ravenhurst [Basil Rathbone], The Court Jester (1955)
Richard Cypher [Craig Horner], Legend of the Seeker (2008-2010)
King Richard [Timothy Omundson], Galavant (2015-2016)
Richard III Plantagenet [Aneurin Barnard], The White Queen (2013)
Robin Hood [Errol Flynn], The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938)
Robin Hood [Michael Praed], Robin of Sherwood (1984)
Robin Hood [Cary Elwes], Robin Hood: Men in Tights (1993)
Robin Hood [Tom Riley], Doctor Who: “The Robot of Sherwood” (2014)
Rodrigo Borgia [Jeremy Irons], The Borgias (2011-2013)
Rollo [Clive Standen], Vikings (2013-2020)
Samwise Gamgee [Sean Astin], The Lord of the Rings Trilogy (2001-2003)
Sandor Clegane [Rory McCann], Game of Thrones (2011-2019)
Sid [Luke Youngblood], Galavant (2015-2016)
Sihtric Kjartansson [Arnas Fedaravicius], The Last Kingdom (2015-2022)
Thorin Oakenshield [Richard Armitage], The Hobbit Trilogy (2012-2014)
Tom Builder [Rufus Sewell], The Pillars of the Earth (2010)
Mr. Tumnus [James McAvoy], The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe (2005)
Vlad III Dracula [Luke Evans], Dracula Untold (2014)
Westley [Cary Elwes], The Princess Bride (1987)
William Thatcher [Heath Ledger], A Knight’s Tale (2001)
Will Scarlet O’Hara [Matthew Porretta], Robin Hood: Men in Tights (1993)
Will Scarlett [Patrick Knowles], The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938)
Will Scarlett [Christian Slater], Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves (1991)
#pre tournament#submissions#will scarlett#a knights tale#the princess bride#the hobbit trilogy#guy of gisborne#daemon targaryen#robin hood prince of thieves#the last kingdom#lord of the rings#vikings#game of thrones
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TESSA I JUST REALISED UR THE PERFECT PERSON TO TELL ABOUT THIS
couple weeks ago my neighbours were like “there’s a kitten stuck between our fences” and obvi my wife and i were like well we shan’t allow this to continue.
first pic and most recent pic of the unnamed kitty (we have been calling her bean and the top contender for her actual name currently is molly short for molecule) (we are gonna keep her) (we have three cat now)
EVERYONE CLAP AND CHEER FOR Molly (Short For Mollycule) Bleeding Jones ❗❗❗
#her life will be full of love and wonderful food i believe it so#congrats to you and your wife for this beautiful adition to your family!!#kitty tag#tessa answers!
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Please More bean eclipse au but… it’s sun babying Eclipse! Because he gets over his trauma via babying Eclipse right?
Also the baby carrier is funny 😄
Absolutely love that Sun gets over his trauma by babying the younger brother. In a sense its what they both need. To you and the anon who wanted something nice for Sun and Bean Eclipse interacting. Eclipse is far more comfortable being carried or held by Sun vs Moon actually. (altho like... in terms of who he'd rather be held by. Its KC, then Earth then Sun (Lunar is a contender only Sometimes). Never Monty. Moon is never perferred on this list but always over Monty.) Also just kinda... BY HEIGHT PREFERENCE LOL
Also Bonus!
Bloodmoon's arrival means i finally get to explore Bloodmoon and Sun bonding (This man jsut has trauma between these two where we settle it by Family Time because its obvious its needed and Sun admits this.) Also Bloodmoon being a bully and trying to steal attention and mess with Eclipse.
#Anyway i keep having to remind yall they just tiny. they still how they are just Beaned#Eclipse finally getting issues dealt with to a degree and bloodmoon im gonna hold at gunpoint#u are getting some therapy and proper kc interaction AND SUN THEY DROPPED ONCE AND NEVER WENT BACK ON#'lets make these guys have like that SLIVER of possible redemption and sun doing something about it and never do it'#bloodmoon torments sun sometimes but once bloodmoon discovers eclipse gets annoyed how quickly most took to bloodmoon on his 'ressurrection#(which i HAVE to think about btw. we could go OG bloodmoon route. OR or. ruin is around and made bean bloodmoon to infiltrate)#(however uh. it doesnt work via bloodmoon just straight up forgetting hes suppose to cause problem not be adopted)#but we'll get there when we get there#bean eclipse au#myart
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yeah he's just chilling,
guy just wanted to hang out with his best friend and he's off just doing whatever (litterally saving a persons life) instead of hanging out with his bestie
Bean do you visit houses in fire emblem games?
not the villages, the houses, the ones with yellowish roofs
I ask because in the chapter where you meet eliwood nils and ninian for the first time there's a very special house
I do!!!! and I know which one you’re referring to! I was NOT ready to just. see Hector there. mr axe what are you doing here
#I love that you call him mr. axe#truly is just the epideme of axe#although I feel Dorcas could contend as mr. axe#bean plays fe7
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Malleus Facts Part 10: Lilia (pt7)
During Master Chef the ghost chef wonders why Malleus enrolled, since he does not appear particularly interested in learning how to cook.
It is revealed that he was trying to understand why Lilia's cooking "barely resembles food.”
When Trey mentions getting spices for Lilia with Malleus says “Lilia’s cooking has a…distinctive flavor that’s difficult to put into words.”
Malleus threatens Trey and Cater with “consequences” to getting him spices, saying there will be consequences for himself, as well.
Trey decides to get Lilia a different souvenir from the Scalding Sands.
Malleus says that he is not terribly particular about food, but if he never eats Lilia’s cooking again it will be too soon.
When Lilia laments not having enough time to make a late-night snack Malleus responds, “So you’ll be otherwise occupied. Then yes, there’s certainly no need for you to go anywhere near the kitchen.”
Sebek joins the Master Chef in order to learn how to make late-night snacks for Malleus so that he will not need to eat Lilia’s cooking.
In Book 2 Lilia mocks Leona for being unable to contend with a REAL king like Malleus, in a declaration that has not aged very well.
Rook approaches Lilia during a gym class to learn why he is smiling, only to realize that Lilia is watching Malleus doing the long throw.
Lilia says he always knows exactly where Malleus is, but also admits to not being able to find Malleus multiple times.
Rook says “it must be hard to tend to a dragon of such wild and noble temperament” but Lilia responds that Malleus “can be rather cute in his own way.”
When Floyd suggests Diasomnia and Octavielle raise Stitch together at NRC Lilia says, “Malleus would be overjoyed!” (Riddle: “I have a very hard time imagining Malleus welcoming this creature with open arms…!”)
Lilia encourages Sebek to enjoy Beanfest as the training opportunity that it is, as “we have precious few chances indeed to turn a blade upon a king in our lifetimes," declaring that he plans “to go after Malleus quite aggressively.”
The two overlap in the woods and seem to have a wonderful time, with Floyd refusing to interrupt as they look like are “really having a blast.”
Lilia successfully beats Malleus off screen, saying that he has “certainly grown into quite the fighter” and he might’ve been in danger if Malleus hadn’t run out of beans during their fight.
Lilia: “There were more close shaves than I would’ve liked.”
Surprised by how he was able to take down Malleus without seeing Sebek or Silver Lilia reflects, “Clearly, I can’t retire in confidence just yet.”
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In This Lifetime
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Vecna's dead and the gates are closed and life is finally back to normal.
Well except for one thing.
Eddie's entire view of Steve Harrington has been tipped on its axis, shattered, booted off a fucking cliff. Whatever you want to call it. Because, well, the guy's not an asshole. He's strong and passionate and so goddamn caring. He's probably the kindest, most giving person Eddie's ever met and although he'd like to say he doesn't know what to think of it, we'll he does. And he thinks he's in love.
Steve Harrington is like fucking sunshine and unfortunately for Eddie's fragile heart, that glow of light doesn't fade.
They become friends. Best Friends. Nearly inseparable. Attached at the hip throughout the years.
They move to Chicago together, rent a shitty two bedroom apartment that maybe as well be one because they still have nightmares and being plastered next to one another seems to calm those terrors.
They laugh and they sing and they dance around the kitchen while they smile and cook and inevitably burn whatever meal they had planned, opting to order pizza instead.
Eddie's in a band and Steve never misses a show.
Steve's in school, planning to become a Guidance Counselor and Eddie's by his side quizzing him with the reward of candy in hand.
It's perfect, living life together in domestic bliss. Even if all they are is only just friends.
But it's still perfect all the same and if it was up to Eddie, he'd spend the rest of his life in these years. Repeat them again and again, if only to fall asleep at Steve's side and wake up to honey-brown eyes every morning.
But he knows it can't always be like this and that's why this is the hardest thing he's ever done.
This is the hardest thing he's ever done, and he's done some difficult shit. Like surviving a near death experience in literal hell being the main contender. But sitting across from Steve Harrington as he turns a little golden ring between his fingers and goes over his proposal plan, yeah that's pretty fucking difficult.
And it shouldn't be, he should be excited, he should be cheering for his friend but there's a gnawing feeling in his gut that's telling him it should be him. It should be him that Steve drops to a knee for, it should be him that Steve professes his undying love to, it should be him that'll one day get to call this man his husband.
But it's not. It's not because even though he's known this ragtag group of monster hunters for years now he's never been able to come to terms with telling them that he's gay and he sure as shit hasn't come to terms with telling Steve Harrington that he loves him and loves him in a very much not 'just friends' kind of way.
So that's why when Steve asks him what he should say to this woman [Becky, who quite frankly could double as Eddie's twin] he spills the beans. In a very subtle way he supposes. He doesn't come out, doesn't outright tell Steve he loves him, but as he's telling Steve what to say to his future fiancé, he's letting his emotions come out like word vomit, only wishing Steve knew he was talking about him.
"I don't know man." Eddie huffs, shuffling uncomfortably in his chair, eyes avoiding Steve's as he contemplates his words.
But it's hardly more than a few seconds before they come tumbling out, Eddie sucking in shaky breath before he stares into the carpet and begins to speak, "Tell her she's like sunshine, beautiful and bold and the source of life. That she's like the blood in your veins, forever present in the most beautiful way and the only thing that keeps your heart beating. Tell her that even on the most difficult days that she's the one you want to see, the one you want to hold, the one that makes you take the breath you need and steady your heart when it's beating out of control."
It's a building thing, slowly growing out of control, he can feel his pulse thrumming in his veins and he's beginning to think he might just do something crazy. He pauses for a moment, gauging Steve's expression. He'd gone to get them beer and hasn't bothered to sit back down since Eddie began talking. There's an indecipherable expression on his face and he's stood still, in front of the couch, beers on the coffee table and he's silent, waiting for Eddie to continue.
And you know, if Eddie was a normal man he'd stay in his chair, talk to his friend from an acceptable distance away and not profess his love, but he's not. He's a showman and as his acting skills get the best of him, he's moving, shuffling across the carpet, taking Steve's hand in his own and kneeling before him. Because why not make this a harder interaction for himself. Christ, it nearly feels like the real thing as he looks into Steve's eyes and shuffles the littlest amount closer.
Eddie shudders a breath, taking a single second to appreciate this moment, even if it'll never truly be real and then he continues, "You get down on your goddamn knee Steve Harrington and you say, ' Sweetheart you're the only thing that keeps me alive in this crazy fucked up world. Having you in my arms and my heart keeps me steady and breathing. I've been through some shit, but I'd go through it all again to find you in the end. The blood, the sweat, the tears, nearly fucking dying to be by your side for the rest of my life. I want to grow old with you Darling, I want us to grey and weather together. To find ourselves fifty years from now watching our kids and our grandkids; all the life we've brought into this world. All the love our life together has brought into existence."
Eddie's crying now, because of course he is, he's confessing his love to someone he knows will never hold the same emotions for him, but through a watery laugh and a sniffle he carries on, tightening his grip on Steve's hands.
"I want you in this lifetime and the next, in any way that you'll have me. I can't bear the thought of a single day without you let alone an entire lifetime. I'll find you, I promise I will Sweetheart, but for this lifetime, I ask that you spend the remainder of it with me."
It's cheesy, he knows, but it seems to take effect because as he looks into the eyes of the man above him he sees the swell of tears gathering along thick dark lashes.
The room's suddenly silent, save for the pounding of Eddie's pulse in his ears and the hope that Steve didn't see through his actions or words. That all he saw was his rather expressive friend acting out as per usual.
But a tear finally escapes and rolls down Steve's tanned cheek and a rather aggressive sob breaks past his lips.
Eddie's to his feet in seconds pulling Steve to his chest, one arm firmly around his waist while another wraps around his shoulders and cradles a head of mousy hair as close as he can. Steve's sobbing, short shaky breaths and surely there's snot and tears staining Eddie's shirt, but it's not like he can say much, what with silent tears streaming down his own cheeks and dripping to Steve's hair.
Steve hiccups around a sob, voice shaky and muffled against Eddie's shoulder, "I can't do this."
God, that's not what Eddie wanted to do, he didn't mean to scare Steve away from his impending engagement. No matter how much he wished it was him. He loves Steve, but if he can't have him, he just wants him to be happy. He deserves happiness. He deserves love.
Even if it's not with him.
Eddie cards his fingers soothingly through Steve's hair as he speaks, "Yes you can. I know you can. Steve, you love her, you're just scared. You can do this."
Another sob heaves against Eddie's chest while Steve continues to shake in his arms, "I can't Eddie."
"Why not Sweetheart?"
Steve's knees give out as a pained nose escapes his throat, dropping to the floor, taking Eddie with him, he doesn't answer, only continues to cry and burrow into Eddie's chest upon settling into their new position on the ground.
He's verging on a panic attack, Eddie knows this, he's seen it many times before. The way Steve's fists clench in his shirt and his breaths are short and sudden, gasping for air that's not filling his lungs, he's flushed white and Eddie knows it's only a matter of time before he gets sick.
"Stevie, come on, you gotta settle down. I'm sorry if I said anything wrong, I didn't mean to if I did. We can talk about it later. But right now you just gotta breathe for me okay." Eddie grabs Steve's hand, tight fist and all and holds it against his chest, allowing Steve to feel his steady breaths, "Breathe in with me, come on Big Guy. Take a deep breath in." Eddie takes a large lungful and holds it for a second, waiting for Steve to do the same and even though it's shaky and raspy he manages.
They repeat this process ten times over, Steve's head and hand now resting against Eddie's chest, their backs to the couch, the rooms fallen silent enough that only muffled sniffles are audible aside from the hum of electricity and the joyous screams of children outside.
After a moment, Steve wiggles himself closer, if even possible and again states, "Eddie, I can't do this."
He's not quite sure how to answer, really. Should he push or should he allow Steve to call off the engagement before it even happens. Lord knows where his own wishes lie. "You wanna tell me why you think you can't do this?"
Steve's breathing picks up again, but before he can reach hysterics Eddie's fingers card through his hair and he soothes Steve back to baseline.
"You," Steve whispers after quite some time of Eddie waiting for a response. It's a quiet thing, Eddie wouldn't have even heard it if he wasn't intentionally listening for Steve to say something.
It's a pain in the chest to know he may be the reason for Steve not to propose, sure he wished it wouldn't happen, but not like this. For him to say something so stupid that makes Steve call the whole thing off, "I'm sorry if I-"
He doesn't have time to finish his sentence before Steve's speaking, "No, not like that, you have nothing to be sorry for Eds. Its just- fuck- I wish I could tell you."
Combing his fingers through Steve's hair, Eddie reassures, "Steve, you can tell me. Please. I want to help."
Steve shakes his head, wrapping an arm tight around Eddie's waist, tucking his head in close, "It's nothing you can help with Eddie."
Nosing against the side of Steve's head, hair tickling his nose, Eddie whispers, soft, gentle, scared to frighten Steve off, "Try me."
And then it's silent. Dead quiet and for quite a long while. He knows Steve will answer, he knows he's just gathering his words, sorting things out before he speaks. It's obviously something big, something important to have warranted such a reaction from such a strong man.
It's with a sudden movement that Steve's sitting upright, turning to face Eddie with the appearance of confidence and sheer fear on his face. He looks fucking terrified. Working his jaw, eyes darting all over Eddie's face before he finally settles on his eyes and speaks, "I love you, okay." The words are far from gentle, they're sharp, rushed, sudden, like if he didn't get them out they'd burn a hole in his throat, but before Eddie has a second to even process those few words, Steve's barreling on.
"And when you were down on your knee infront of me, I wanted nothing more than for that to be the real thing, for those words to actually be directed towards me because I love you so fucking much it hurts. And I get it, I do. I know you're straight and we can never be a thing or really even get married but Eds, fuck, I love you so much and I can't marry Becky knowing I feel that way about you. I was going to try because I knew this could ne-"
He knows what Steve was meaning to say, but Eddie had to cut him off before those words could be spoken into existence because they're wrong. It can happen. Holy fucking Christ, Steve's loves him. It can all happen.
"I love you too," he says with such haste, taking Steve's face into his hands as he speaks with so much passion it nearly hurts, "-so much."
Cheeks squished in Eddie's grasp, Steve's eyes begin to well with tears once again, but now, now a smile is fighting its way to his lips, only growing with utter disbelief as Eddie quietly says, "and I meant every word of it. Every fucking word Sweetheart."
Steve's eyes search Eddie's own for only half a second before their lips crash together. It's a feverish thing, years of pent up love and need crammed into a single embrace, but their lips move as if they've met a million times before. And maybe they have. Maybe through the thousands of years this little rock in space has been turning, they've never left one another's side. Maybe they do find each other in every lifetime. Maybe they fall in love against all odds. Maybe this lifetime is no different.
Many Years Later
Turns out, it's not different at all.
When the time comes, so does the real proposal. It's been planned for years and when word of legalisation reaches Eddie's ears he's running to Steve. Dashing through streets, shouldering past strangers and dropping with a painful thud to the hardwood of Steve's office floor. In those few short moments to follow, the life he wished to have so many years ago becomes a reality.
Steve's his fiancé.
Soon to be his husband.
In this lifetime and the next.
---
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