#I wish it didn’t have to be this way I’ll have my arms all tucked around me so comfortable until a few minutes later when the pins and

[urdreamgirls-dreamgirl]

i would never pretend to not know you, pt. 1

eddie shifts his van into park and approaches the big red double doors of the harrington house. before he can knock, the door on the right swings open, revealing a smiling steve harrington.

“heard you coming,” he says by way of explanation. “your uncle’s in the kitchen. come on.”

eddie follows steve down the hallway to the expansive white kitchen. the room could fit the entire munson trailer in it two times over. wayne turns from the sink when he hears them coming.

“hey, son,” wayne greets him, wiping his hands on a rag he has tucked into his work belt. “i’ll be done in a few minutes, just gotta get underneath here and sort some things out.”

eddie stands there awkwardly for a minute before steve waves his hand.

“c’mon, we can wait in the den. you want something to drink?”

eddie shakes his head and then follows steve into the next room, which is filled with a big, squishy looking couch. steve practically throws himself down onto the middle cushion. eddie sits as close to the arm of the couch as possible.

“how’d you do on o’donnell’s test today?” steve asks, a crooked grin on his face. “i feel like she might be writing them to torture me specifically.”

“eh, i don’t think it was too bad.” eddie tries to say it in a way that puts an end to the conversation, not really interested in making small talk.

“yeah, well. you’re, like, really good at english.”

“what?” eddie looks over, surprised.

“i mean, i can tell. when you talk in class?” steve looks a bit confused, like he doesn’t know why eddie’s so surprised. “you notice things i wouldn’t have ever even thought about.”

“oh. i don’t know about that. i just say stuff that seems obvious.”

steve snorts. “yeah, obvious to you. it’s cool, you know. how smart you are. i wish i could think like you.”

“you’re smart.”

steve just smiles then, shaking his head a little. just then, wayne comes into the doorway that leads from the kitchen into the den they’re sitting in.

“all right, fellas? i’m all done in here, steve.”

“okay, thanks, mr. munson.”

eddie stands, wiping his hands down the front of his jeans.

“well, see ya,” he says to steve, turning to follow wayne out toward the front door.

steve follows. “hey, maybe you could come a little earlier next week and we could talk about the next quiz?”

eddie looks back at steve. if eddie didn’t know any better, he’d say steve looked almost hopeful.

“uh, yeah, maybe.”

steve smiles. “okay, cool.”

~*~

“you know, steve’s a pretty good kid,” wayne says out of the blue halfway through their drive home.

eddie gives a vaguely positive-sounding grunt in return.

“he could use some friends, i think. he has a tough time.”

“steve?” eddie turns from where he’s focused on the road in front of him to look at wayne in surprise.

“his parents… well, it’s not my thing to tell, but. he’s alone a lot. lonely. you could be nice to him.”

“i’m always nice to him,” eddie grumbles.

“i know, son, but you know what i mean. you remember how you were when you first came to me. isolated. remember how good it felt when you met gareth and finally had a friend to talk to at school?”

“steve has friends,” eddie insists.

wayne sighs. “just think about it, okay?”

“sure.” eddie will do no such thing.

~*~

eddie’s right. steve does have friends. he has people he talks to at school, he has his basketball teammates and his lunchmates, he has the swim team.

but wayne’s also right, because if eddie looks a bit closer, he notices how steve walks home from school alone. how every week when eddie comes to pick wayne up from his maintenance work at the harrington house, steve always answers the door and he’s never seen a trace of his parents there. how steve sits at the diner alone on weekends, struggling through his homework.

~*~

the next week, eddie shows up an hour early to the harringtons’ to pick up wayne. when he rings the doorbell, it takes about two minutes for steve to let him in.

“oh,” steve says surprised. “hi? i think wayne’s still working out back.” he glances down at his watch.

“no, yeah.” eddie rubs at the back of his neck. “you mentioned talking about the next quiz last time?” he holds up the worn paperback he’s been holding at his side.

steve smiles, wide and bright. “cool.”

he leads eddie into the same room they’d sat in last time, flopping down on to the cushions again. eddie takes the same position up against the couch’s arm. he can see steve’s school things spread across the coffee table, papers covered in barely legible chicken scratch.

“you weren’t in lunch today,” steve says, matter-of-factly.

“uh, no. we do hellfire on wednesdays.”

“thats that game, right?” steve sounds genuinely curious.

“yeah, dnd.”

“what’s it about?”

“what do you mean?”

“how do you play?”

“steve harrington wants to know how to play dungeons and dragons?” eddie sounds a little incredulous, even to his own ears.

steve smiles, a bit smaller than he had at his front door. “yeah, man. you’re into it, right? that’s kind of cool.”

eddie snorts. “i don’t know that anyone has ever been called cool for playing dnd before.”

“you care about it. a lot. that’s cool.”

eddie clears his throat, suddenly uncomfortable. he shifts where he sits.

“or we could talk about the book,” steve says softly.

“yeah, let’s… do that.”

~*~

they’re finishing up work on steve’s review sheet when wayne comes in through the kitchen.

“it’s all cleared up out there, steve,” he calls as he moves to wash his hands in the kitchen sink.

“okay, thanks, mr. munson. i’ll let my parents know.” steve stands from where he’s been sitting and stretches before walking into the kitchen. eddie follows him.

wayne smiles when he sees them. “didn’t know you were here already.”

“yeah,” eddie replies. “just working on some homework.”

“he was helping me understand the book we’re reading in class,” steve adds. “i don’t get it at all, but eddie’s really good at it.”

“that so,” wayne says, drying his hands.

“yeah, you should hear him in class. it’s pretty impressive.”

eddie can feel himself blushing.

~*~

“that was a nice thing you did, kid,” wayne tells him once they’re in eddie’s van. “real nice.”

“just doing homework. easier to do it together than alone, i guess.” eddie shrugs.

“sure.”

~*~

it becomes a regular thing. eddie shows up about an hour early every wednesday and helps steve with his english homework.

“this is really cool of you, man,” steve says after a few weeks.

“everything’s so cool to you, harrington,” eddie smiles, laughing a little. steve pushes at his shoulder, laughing along.

“no, i mean,” steve runs his hand through his hair. “i know people at school think i’m annoying or whatever—”

“i don’t think anyone thinks that.”

steve gives him a look. “i’m not very smart and i ask dumb questions in class. i can hear people sighing when i raise my hand.”

he has a point about the questions. “it’s not a crime to ask a question, steve. how else would you learn,” eddie says anyway.

“well, whatever. i’ve had tutors before but they’ve all kind of—quit or whatever. i can be… frustrating.”

“you’re not frustrating. you just learn differently. that’s not a bad thing. you are smart.” eddie sees the skeptical look still on steve’s face. “and anyway, i’m not your tutor.”

“you’re not?”

“no. i like you, steve. we’re friends.”

steve smiles.

~*~

it’s not that steve harrington himself is a bully. he’s not. he’s nice, actually. eddie has never even seen him so much as surreptitiously trip some poor nerd in the hawkins high hallways.

but he holds a space in the collective hellfire imagination onto which they can project their own high school feelings of inferiority.

steve is good looking. he comes from a good family. he has a lot of money and his clothes are always clean and new. he’s well-fed and girls love him. he somehow skates through all his classes. he is everything that nerdy outcasts hate.

so eddie doesn’t tell his friends about the budding friendship between him and steve. he doesn’t tell them that every week when they ask him to go get milkshakes or to come play video games or to catch a movie that what he’s really doing when he lies to them and tells them he has plans with wayne is spending time with steve.

his friends can’t know. he’s gone on enough tirades against the capitalist jock class that he’d look like a total hypocrite to be hanging out with their de facto king. he’s not sure he’d survive them finding out.

~*~

“did you mean it?” steve asks the following week.

“hm?” eddie doesn’t look up from the page he’s reading.

“when you said you liked me. did you mean that?”

eddie looks up in surprise. “of course i did.”

steve smiles. “good. because i like you too.”

“yeah?” eddie returns his smile.

steve nods, moving a bit closer on the big squishy couch. “but, um. i’m not sure if we mean it the same way.”

eddie swallows. “what do you mean?”

“i mean, i might like you as more than a friend.”

eddie laughs. “why?” he doesn’t mean to say it. it just comes out.

steve doesn’t laugh though. “you’re smart. you think about things in ways that other people don’t. you care about the things that are important to you, even when other people might think they’re stupid. you’re nice to me when you don’t have to be.” steve’s closer now. “have you ever kissed anyone before?” eddie nods. “i haven’t. only in those stupid games. not for real.”

eddie looks into steve’s eyes. he looks hopeful. eddie swallows again.

“okay…” eddie’s still not sure where this is going. he could take a wild guess, but things don’t usually go the way he hopes.

“would you…” steve bites his bottom lip. “i know i’m—would you want to? kiss me, i mean.”

eddie takes a deep breath and then nods before closing the distance between them, so much smaller now than when they’d first sat down.

steve’s lips are warm against his. the kiss is more chaste than anything, short and sweet before they break apart.

“oh,” steve whispers with his eyes still closed. he licks his lips. “that was—” he opens his eyes, smiling at eddie. “that was really nice.”

“yeah.” eddie doesn’t take his eyes from steve’s lips.

“do you want to—”

eddie’s lips are back on steve’s before he can even finish his question.

~*~

they break apart when they hear wayne coming in through the back door of the kitchen.

steve’s breathing slightly heavier than usual, smiling up at eddie.

eddie tries to smile back, but the reminder of the world around them brought on by wayne’s presence in the house with them has his gut roiling. he’s not sure what shows on his face, but he can see the worry as it creeps onto steve’s face.

“is this—was this okay? are you okay?” steve asks.

“yeah,” eddie replies, trying again for a smile. he thinks he’s a bit more successful this time. “just, uh. this was really fun but. can we…”

“can we?” steve prompts when eddie trails off.

“let’s just keep it to ourselves, yeah? like, don’t tell anyone at school.”

eddie regrets it the minute he says it. steve’s eyes shutter as he watches.

“oh, right. obviously. like anyone would believe me anyway,” steve laughs, but it doesn’t sound quite right.

they’re sitting upright on the couch again when wayne comes into the doorway.

“all set, ed?”

eddie gathers his school bag.

“see you next week, steve,” he says, and follows wayne out of the house.

to be continued perhaps… (no taglists, sorry)

[wandaslittlebird]

i had a thought of where wanda / step mom wanda comforts reader after a bad day and a lot angst and fluff too

Fairytale

Stepmom!Wanda x Reader

CW: Stepmom/Stepdaughter, themes of depression, spoilers for the Disney movie Tangled (??)

Word Count: 2k (whoops this was supposed to be a drabble. Whatever.)

A/N: Thank you for the request! This takes place when R was 18 before she left for school, so a prequel to the main story.

A/N: This is far from my best work, but I still had kinda a cute idea.

It was pouring when you finally got home from work. You walked into the house in your uniform, soaked from the rain.

You saw Wanda in the kitchen, fixing dinner. She’s a wonderful cook, but in your current state the food made your stomach turn. You felt nauseous. You hadn’t eaten all day at work, but you still couldn’t imagine eating anything.

Your dad was at the table reading a newspaper. He didn’t acknowledge you’d come home.

“Hey, little love!” Wanda chimed excitedly, but her face falls when her eyes meet yours. You looked terrible, eyes sunken in, dark with exhaustion. You couldn’t even bring yourself to give her a smile. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

You didn’t respond, trying to escape to the privacy of your bedroom before the emotions of the day spilled out of you. You dashed up the stairs.

Your dad set down his newspaper with a frustrated thud. He moved to get up and reprimand you for ignoring your stepmother, but Wanda stopped him.

“Vis, you just make sure my pasta doesn’t burn. I’ll take care of it.”

————

She found you in your room, curled up in the center of the bed. You were still wearing your wet and dirty work clothes, but you’d thrown on one of Wanda’s hoodie. It practically swallowed you with how big it was. The sight melted Wanda’s heart.

“Sweetheart?” She called into the room. You turned over in bed, hiding your face in the hoodie. She came to sit next to on the bed, rubbing gentle circles on the back you’d turned on her. She could feel then that you were crying. You were silent, but she could feel the erratic way you were breathing as your chest heaved. “What’s wrong, baby? It’s okay. Mama’s here. Mama’s got you honey. Just tell me what’s wrong.”

“I don’t know,” you cried weakly. “I don’t know what’s wrong. It’s just… everyday is like this. I just wake up with this feeling of despair, and then I go to work and everything is so loud and there’s too many smells and I have to pretend to be happy while I make everyone’s coffee, but I’m just so so tired. I feel like my mind and body are screaming and crying for someone to help me, but this is just my life and no one is coming to save me.”

Wanda pulled you into her lap, not caring that you were still soaking wet. She shushed your cries and rocked you back and forth, letting you ramble and sob into her arms. She tucked your wet hair under her chin, pulling you to her chest so you could feel the gentle beating of her heart. “Shhshsh, let it all out honey. You’re home now. Mama’s got you.”

“All I can do is escape to this white knight fairytale where things are different, and I have friends again, and I don’t have to go on like this. But I’m just being repeatedly ripped out of that fairytale and pulled back into this awful reality I have no choice but to live in. I’m a high school drop out, all my friends left me, I hate my job but I’m just going to hate any job that takes up so much of my time. I can pretend all I want that things are or will be different but this is real life and I’m miserable! I’m miserable and I’m going to be like this until I die!” You sobbed, breathlessly heaving into Wanda’s chest.

Wanda felt her heart shatter into a million pieces. She wished she could be your white knight, take you somewhere far away where you didn’t have to worry about all of the awful things happening in your life. She couldn’t imagine what your situation must feel like right now, hopelessly trying to claw your way out of a well you’re stuck at the bottom of. There were things she was working with you on. You were going to get your GED at the end of the year, but it was still going to be another year before you could even start applying to colleges. The road was going to be long, but she was confident you’d pull through.

That wasn’t what you needed right now, though. You didn’t need to hear her say that just maybe, in a whole two years, you might be able to get your life back on track. You needed something now. You needed something to get you through the night.

“How about this,” she proposed, holding your teary face in her hands. “You take a nice warm shower and get all nice and clean while I go downstairs and finish dinner for your dad and the boys. And then I’ll come back up here with some mac and cheese and some chicken nuggets and we have a special girls’ night?”

You sniffled hesitantly, unsure if you could handle it all: the shower, the food, the company. But in the end, you nodded. Your only other option was to sit in here, alone, withering away in your cold work uniform.

“That’s my sweet girl,” she cooed, pinching you lightly on the cheek. “I’ll pick out some pjs for you and get your water running. One step at a time, angel. I know it’s hard, but you can do this.” She gave your hand a reassuring squeeze, and walked off to start your shower.

It felt insurmountable, but you got up, washed yourself off in the shower, and dried off before putting on the pajamas Wanda set out for you. On top, there was a fresh one of her sweatshirts for you to wear. You threw it on, inhaling her sweet scent with your arms up to your nose. You made your way back into your bedroom.

Within five minutes of you getting back, Wanda came knocking on your door with some mac and cheese and microwave chicken nuggets. Your stomach turned at the sight of the food. Even your safest meal felt nauseating.

“I know you don’t wanna eat, love, but you’ve gotta try and eat at least a little bit for me, okay? We’ll start with two nuggets and half of the mac and cheese,” she says.

You nodded, reluctantly taking the plate and working on your mac and cheese.

“Now, I think it’s time for a movie and some cuddles, don’t you think?” Wanda asked, already setting up the pillows and blankets on the bed. “What would you like to watch?”

You shrugged, unable to think of anything helpful while fighting your stomach for cooperation. “You pick.”

Wanda gave you a soft smile of understanding. She understood the inability to make a decision, and she was more than happy to make one in your stead. She ended up putting Tangled on the small tv in your room.

She sat against your headboard, legs spread and tapped the space in between, welcoming you to sit. When you did, she threw your favorite blanket over your shoulders and set your favorite stuffed animal, Thomas, in your lap. You rested your chin on his head.

“Do you want me to braid your hair like Rapunzel’s?” She asked once you’d gotten to the hair brushing scene.

You buried your face into Thomas. “I-I didn’t wash it in the shower,” you admitted shamefully. It needed to be washed after being in the rain, but you were out of energy.

“That’s okay,” she assured without judgement, starting a French braid on your dirty, wet hair. “We’ll put some dry shampoo in it in the morning.” She braided your hair with you curled up between her legs, tying it off with a little pink ribbon.

“If I were Rapunzel, I’d let you climb up my hair,” you said when she finished, leaning back against her chest.

She wrapped her arms around your waist, giggling at your silly antidote and kissing the back of your head. “You would?”

You nodded against her shoulder. “Yeah. Not dad though.”

Wanda smiled and giggled again. “You just want your tower to be me and you? No one else?”

You shook your head. “Just me and mama, in our tower together.”

She huffed out a laugh. “Just you and mama in a tower, huh? I can definitely get behind that. What would we do in our tower all day?”

You shrugged. “You could braid my hair, and we could sings songs, read books together, paint the walls, snuggle in our bed. We could do whatever we wanted really.”

She smiled, noting that you had said ‘our bed’, implying your dream castle only had one bed for the two of you to share. “So they would be no one to stop me from doing this?” She turned your head with her hand and placed a gentle kiss to your lips.

You looked at her for just a moment before chasing her lips again. And again. And again.

She giggled. “Okay, honey. That’s enough.” She certainly didn’t mind the kisses, but she knew you’d spend the whole movie kissing her if she let you. And she still had plans.

You curled back up in her lap. Right. You were letting yourself get lost in fairytale again. You weren’t in a tower in the forest with no one else. You were in real life, with your father and step-brothers in the rooms surrounding you. Wanda wasn’t your handsome rogue, she was your stepmother. This wasn’t a quirky pairing between a theft and a princess. This was a disgustingly taboo relationship that would ostracize you from everyone in your life if they found out.

Wanda wrapped her arms back around you, pulling you close. “Hey, princess,” she said, kissing your temple. She sensed your discomfort and could immediately tell what you were thinking. She wanted to stay with you in this fairytale for just a little longer. It couldn’t be forever, of course, but you could play pretend, for now. “We don’t have to leave our tower just yet. We have until morning, just the two of us.”

“M-morning?” You asked. Wanda always had to leave early in the night. She had to go back her room so your dad wouldn’t get suspicious.

She stroked your hair, slicking back the frizzy hairs that escaped your braid. “I told your dad that you’re not feeling well and I was gonna stay in here tonight.” She pointed to the packed air mattress on the floor. She had no plans of sleeping on it, of course, but she needed to make the lie believable.

You looked at her with wide teary eyes, unable to believe she’d do such kind thing for you, even when the risk of it was so high. She just returned the look with a soft smile and redirected your attention to the movie.

The movie was nearing the end, specifically when they finally get to see the lanterns and light on of their own. Wanda leaned forward and kissed your neck, using her hand to direct your head up to the ceiling. She turned on the fairy lights that lined the ceiling. They’d been there since you were a teenager, but you never turned them on. Most days you forgot they were there. She turned them to a setting with a gentle twinkle.

You were so overcome with love, you flipped yourself around in her lap so you were straddling her legs and wrapping your arms loosely around her neck. You felt like your entire body was buzzing with electricity when she pulled you down by the back of your neck into a kiss. A real kiss this time, not just the pecks she was giving you earlier. You whimpered against her lips.

“Shh, angel,” she whispered against you, advising you to quiet down before she had to stop. You slipped your hands under the hem of her shirt, tugging on it in a silent request. “Sweetheart, we can’t…” she said sadly but firmly. There was no way she could fuck you while everyone else was still home, no matter how badly she wanted to.

“I know,” you assured. “I don’t want to. Just let me feel you. Please.”

She looked in your pleading eyes, now twinkling in the fairy lights. She sighed. She couldn’t deny you anything. She slipped the shirt off over her head, leaving her bare under you.

You smiled, lying down on top of her and rubbing your face against her soft exposed skin. She smiled down at you, affectionately wrapping her arms around you to rub your back.

“I love you, mama,” you said, nuzzling your face into her chest with the first genuine smile you’ve had all day.

“I love you too, baby,” she said, squeezing you into her and kissing the top of your head. She couldn’t fix everything for you, but, when you needed it most, she could give you your fairytale.

[joelsbloodyhands]

Mine

Din Djarin x Reader, The Mandalorian x Reader

Summary: Your employer is pissed when you come back from getting information about a bounty with a bruised hand mark around your neck.

A/N: I kinda just wrote this one because I had a vague idea and ran with it. I think everyone is going to learn very quickly in my writing that clearly jealous/overprotective Din is my fave version of him 🙈

Warnings: reader gets choked and not in the nice way (only talks about it), overprotective Din, Din is your employer but clearly wants to be more, death and m!rder (all in the name of love) 🤗, mentions of blood and bodily harm, mentions of slave traders, fluff with a little bit of spice✨, soft!Din but also a little bit reckless!Din 👀 smut references but not written too explicitly but still MINORS DNI, business associates to lovers arc? 😅 not set at any particular point during the series.

READER does not have a specified gender, they/them pronouns used. Reader does not have a visible disability.

You’d been gone too long and Din was getting anxious.

This hadn’t been his original plan.

The contact for information regarding the bounty had unfortunately been highlighted as a previous foe of his. He’d busted them prior when their bounty puck had fell in his lap over a cycle ago.

Trust Karga to let the man redeem himself by providing intel on high-level bounties with the incentive of remaining out of the hands of the Rebellion that for some reason unbeknownst to Din, wanted his head on a stick.

Why had Din let you go and barter for the information again?

“He won’t suspect me to be a threat.”

Oh right, yeah. That’s what you said.

Except Din was probably worrying about the wrong thing because the biggest threat would be the ex-criminal you were meeting with at Mos Espa Cantina.

“Go say hi to Boba for me. Get the boy fed and I’ll be back soon.”

Din was losing his edge.

On what kriffin planet did he give in to such a request?

You were in danger and he knew it.

He knew it and he still sat in the markets with Grogu, twirling wupiupi coins in his fingers for the past half hour while his son slurped another bowl of pog soup.

Why?

Well, that was easy.

Since the past year you had been travelling with him, Din had grown to have affections for you.

To start he kept you at arms length.

Brief answers to your curious questions turned into nightly talks between your bunks. Subtle touches to guide you through busy and sometimes treacherous places turned into lingering holds in his grasp, fear of losing you to the crowds. He found himself watching you far longer than he ever had before and during times when he didn’t necessarily need to. The sound of you using the fresher while he tucked in his little green son had his heart pounding and a certain area of his armor feeling a little bit too uncomfortable.

He grew more and more protective the further you strayed without him.

He no longer wished for you to venture into dens alone to ask for information on his behalf but he couldn’t deny that you were good at it.

Better than him.

You were calm and collected.

You had a level head.

Something that he could very easily lose control over should Grogu and yourself be threatened by a contact. Though it was the one thing you had learned you could assert yourself over since Din’s change of heart.

You had a job that needed to be done and you were the best person for it.

So Din caved far quicker than he normally would with allowing you to go the cantinas and talk about bounties, pay and information. It sped up the process for Din to track them and also meant he didn’t have to deal with the unwanted chit chat that came with meeting up with Karga.

Something you enjoyed. Something that had Din’s palms itching whenever Karga took your hand to help you stand from the booth, Din’s clenched fist aching to wipe the smug look of his face when he turned back in his direction.

“I like her, Mando. She’s good at getting what she wants.”

He knew you were.

Din wasn’t sure if he was included on the list of things you wanted but you sure as hell were on his.

There was times he had a inkling.

Especially when he was feeding the kid and he caught you looking away when his eyes found you scraping away at your lunch.

Times when you would grab his hand without hesitation and pull him through midnight markets towards the sights of fireworks. Din’s heart warming at the wide smile plastered across your face, the powdery shades of red, blue and green lighting up in your eyes from the sky.

Damn, he was down bad and he had no idea what to do about it.

Technically, he was your employer.

Juggling Grogu and his job was a difficulty. Most of the time he was happy to venture out with Grogu in his carrier or pod but his bounties got, let’s say, brave in their efforts to deter him. Going so far as to aim shots towards the child. They learned his weakness and Din hated it.

So with much reluctance to start, he asked Peli if she would be interested in babysitting him for a price but of course she refused; even with the money on the table.

“Not a chance but I know just the person for the job.”

He had slid the money off the table and walked back to the ship without another word until she scrambled after him.

“Hey, hey, hey! Just hear me out, okay?” Din had sighed, turning back to her from the top of the ramp while she stood hands on her hips and a smile growing. “There’s this kid that needs a job. Call ‘em a distant relative, if you will. They’re desperate. Need money, board, food, water and they’ll make sure your little boy is taken good care of. I swear!”

“Have they taken care of children before?” Din asked inquisitively but also with a half mind to ignore Peli completely and close the ramp in response to her proposal.

“Yeah! Loads of times! They’re a professional!”

Din doubted that very much. He knew Peli’s tactics for selling him an offer and he couldn’t deny that she was good at it.

Fine, he’ll bite. Again.

“Call them.”

He just remembers Peli’s grin, your soft voice on the end of a comlink and then a speeder sounding just outside.

She had presented you to him like a rare gift and he was less than happy to receive you at the time but more than a few rotations later, you had thrown yourself in front of a bounty that had tried to commandeer his ship, their blaster aimed for Grogu in his bunk, taking a graze to the side before Din shot him dead.

You were willing to die to protect his son.

That was more than he could’ve ever asked for.

Later when Din was back at the Crest, you returned.

He had spent the past hours pacing up and down the ramp like a mad man.

Originally, he had planned to detour from the markets with Grogu over to the cantina but you had used your comlink to tell him you were already near the ship.

That was interesting because Din got back to the ship and you weren’t even here.

Which begs the question, why did you lie that you were already nearby?

Maybe he was being paranoid. His fists clenching and unclenching repeatedly, stressing about your whereabouts and the obvious reason as to why he was so stressed to begin with.

So when he’d heard your footsteps up the ramp, your voice calling for Grogu, you were both surprised to see the other staring back.

“Where have you been?” Din questioned gently but you sensed an underlining annoyance to his tone.

“I detoured, sorry,” you sheepishly smiled, holding up a bag of frog meat. “I saw a vendor selling this and I knew Grogu would be happy about it. Not to mention,” you brush past him, eyes focused solely on the sleeping child snuggling into his hammock on Din’s bunk, “it would be nice to see him not eat a whole frog for once.”

You laugh and it eases Din.

Of course he was just being paranoid.

“And the contact?” He says and you remain with your back to him, reaching your hand in carefully to tug the blanket over Grogu’s body. “He give us what we need?”

“He did,” you respond and Din satisfied, presses the button to bring up the ramp and close the hatch. The sound of it whirring so loud, in need of some oiling so much so that you had probably thought he missed your quiet words.

“What was that?” His helmet turns your way when the hatch closes with a loud creak.

“I said, somewhat.”

Okay, maybe he wasn’t being paranoid after all.

Din feels his nerves wash over him, noticing how you’re not even turning around as you address him. He takes you in. You don’t seem discomforted, angry or emotional. You’re incredibly calm.

Though that was worrying.

Normally, you came back from having debriefs with the informants with a story to tell.

“It was quite scary actually. They had this wookie with them but then you’ll never believe this guy! Stood there, blaster in hand, immense glare in his face, goes and shoves a fist in his satchel, I’m ready to throw hands and I shit you not, Din…wookie pulls out a cookie and starts crunching away at it!”

“Have you ever met a Gungan, Din? I think they’re my favourite people I’ve ever met. I mean they were all like, yousa follow us now, okeyday? Seriously! Oh gooberfish! I love them!”

“What do you mean by somewhat?”

You sigh.

This wasn’t good.

“I’m sorry, Din. They gave us the last location. I think that’s the most important thing.”

“What about if they’re solo or run with a crew? We need to know what we’re walking into, otherwise we could get bombarded the moment we land.”

This wasn’t a simple bounty. This guy was one of the worst out there.

A slave trader.

It angered Din to even think about it.

“Something happened,” he doesn’t let you tip-toe around the subject. “What are you not telling me?”

You fall silent and that’s enough for him.

Something did happen and what’s worse, you don’t want to tell him.

He moves towards you and you turn on your heel, ready to protest. Din had only meant to just embrace your shoulder gently to ease you into a conversation he thought you needed to have but the slightest wince had him drawing back almost immediately.

With his steps halted in front of you, the air cold, the crest filled with silence, Din’s visor drops instinctively to your neck.

Was it getting cool? Sure, when it was getting late. Though right now, it was still early afternoon and you never wore a scarf in Mos Espa outside the settlement and in the dunes.

“Did he touch you?”

Din has to bite back the growl threatening to crackle through his modulator.

Your head drops, eyes on the floor and the look of regret on your features make Din pray to the Maker that he’ll kill the man just for the expression on your face.

Then you unravel the scarf and Din wastes no time.

His hand had pulled your collar back gently, his shoulders stiffening at the purpled marks there.

You grimaced before trying for a smile but he sees the way your eyes plead with his, “Before you ask, it looks worse than it feels. I’m fine, Din. Let’s just go.”

He remembers you calling his name after that.

Only once because you knew as you watched him brush past you, grabbing two vibroblades from his armoury and charging down the steps towards the town, that there was nothing you could say to stop him.

And you were right because less than five minutes later, Din’s blades were impaled on the informants hands, stapling him indefinitely to the table at the cantina while onlookers ran completely, hid or dropped their heads from his view.

Then his gloved hands were on his throat, squeezing the life out of him.

An eye for an eye.

You hadn’t explained why the man had strangled you and it was pointless anyway.

He had no right to touch you.

To hell with Karga.

He’d lose an informant but that informant chose to fuck with what was his and that was worth more than any information.

When Din felt the life leave him, he dropped a number of credits to the table, looked up at the barman and walked away. His last words being, “you can keep those,” shrugging his shoulder towards the blades on the way out.

Now back at the ship, you sit rigidly on the bunk while Din gently swipes a lotion of bacta over your wound with a cotton wipe.

“I shouldn’t have let you go.”

Your eyes flicker to his visor and you know he’s evading your gaze.

You sigh and for a moment, he think you’re not going to reply until your hands gently take his, stopping him from tending to you.

He lifts his visor then, meeting your concerned eyes, your fingers intertwined with his on your lap.

“I can handle myself. You know that, right?”

Oh. So that’s what this was?

You were worried he thought you incompetent to end up in this circumstance?

Of course you would think that. He’s your employer. You only want to deliver good work for him.

That’s not all this is anymore though and Din can’t pretend and let you go on feeling like a failure especially with the tears dancing on your waterlines.

“You are very capable, mesh’la but-“ Din sighs.

How can he even begin to explain to you that he’s more angry at himself for not protecting you like he’s supposed to?

Kriff, you’re not even a bounty hunter. Trained to use a blaster as a novice, he noticed how you flinched whenever you’ve had to pull the trigger on his behalf. You’re at your calmest when you’re rocking the small boy before bed, singing lullabies to him in a hushed tone probably so Din couldn’t hear. You had no idea that he stood just above the ladder to the cockpit and listened.

You were ethereal and he couldn’t get enough of you.

That’s why it made his hands shake to even think that anyone would harm you.

He’s so caught up in his own thoughts, he misses the way your eyes widen at the term of endearment he let slip and the quick gesture as you shake yourself from how affected you are by it.

“I just…” you break through his racing thoughts, his eyes latching onto your dipped chin, eyes shadowed in the corner of the docking port, just outside his bunk. You look solemn but rather than feel dread, Din’s heart stills when he notices the flush of pink across your features.

If he didn’t know any better, he’d say you were nervous.

“I just want to be able to do more for you.”

The words play on a loop, almost like they’re colliding against the inside of Din’s helmet, repeatedly soaring through his ears again and again.

“I want to be more useful for you. Ya know?”

Useful? You think you’re not already useful?

“Sometimes I just feel like I have more to offer. I know you brought me in to be a babysitter but I can be more than that. For you.”

Was the carbonite freezing system failing or was it getting hotter in the crest?

Din felt like he needed to tug the shroud off from around his neck. The air was suffocating.

“Please say something?” Your small voice says quietly.

“You are more to me than you will ever understand, cya’rika.”

Your eyes meet his then.

Well, his visor at least and Din curses his creed for having him hide his face at a time when he wants- no needs you to see how much he means what he says.

You’re silent but the increasing rouge of your cheeks is enough to see that you understand him and that perhaps there was some truth in his suspicions.

You felt for him just as much as he felt for you.

“Din…”

And just like that, his eyes roll back momentarily hearing his name leave your tongue like a pleading prayer.

He couldn’t pretend like you weren’t affecting him too.

He needed you to know.

“Get in the bunk, ner kar’ta.”

Your body stills a moment in surprise and you don’t move.

Maybe he misjudged or maybe he’s being too forward but then you stand and without taking your eyes away from him, you seat yourself on the side of his bunk.

Waiting for him.

Waiting for further instruction just like you’ve been doing ever since you walked onto his ship.

One thing he realised he misjudged.

All those times you obeyed every command, it was never out of the need for his money.

You never questioned him, never refused an order but with Din and the matter of Grogu’s safety, it was never a request and that’s all it was to start.

It was just a matter of his sons safety until he realised he loved you too.

Din stands and steps in front of you, you look up at him as he tugs the shroud from around his neck loose.

He notices how your eyes drop to his waist, evading the reveal of his tanned skin while you’re positioned below him. He wraps the material a couple of times before placing the fabric over your eyes.

You don’t move.

You don’t flinch.

You just allow him to remove one of your senses, leaving nothing but darkness over your sight. His heart aches at the trust you have in him, allowing him to render you vulnerable before him.

He ties it behind your head, making sure it’s not too tight as to hurt you.

He’s not the same type of man as the monster from earlier today.

His fingers itch at the memory and he shrugs his gloves off, setting his bare fingers against the cold metal of his helmet.

You await patiently and he watches as you jerk your head slightly at the familiar sound of his helmet releasing.

The sound you’ve only ever heard from a nearby room, hiding away from him when you brought him supper.

You await patiently while Din removes each piece of armor, setting it aside.

Then there’s just silence.

Until you hear his knees hit the ground in front of you and a warm breath hits your neck, a shudder running up your spine.

“Is it okay if I show you something?”

His whispers hit your ear drum in the most delightful way.

You nod dreamily.

Then you feel rough, warm lips graze your neck.

If heaven was travelling at light-speed through space, it was right here and now with Din’s lips travelling along your jawline, mapping out the path to seal against your lips. He tugs gently, coaxing you out of the shy shell you had created when you realised the butterflies he made you feel when you first met had more to do with how attracted you were to him than to how intimidating most people found him.

Every step he took on each planet you travelled, Din carried a powerful aura that most people cowered away from but it only drew you to him more.

You knew Din was strong.

You knew not many could beat him in a fight, yourself included but that was the whole point.

Din would never abuse his strength over you.

Ever.

Though, you wish he would, in special circumstances.

Like right now.

“How do you feel, cya’re?” Din inquires breathlessly, lips pressing soft kisses down your throat while you bite back the urge to be vocal.

“I wish we’d done this sooner,” you say uneasily, your hands gripping the bunk below you.

Din’s chuckle hits your ear, reverberating against your ear drum exquistively.

“Din?” He hears your voice rattle with every nestle of his lips stroking over your skin.

“Yes, mesh’la?” He raises his head, lips brushing the underside of your jaw, watching your lips turn up into a small smirk. Though you couldn’t see his expression returning yours, his adoring smile awaited your next words patiently.

“You killed him, didn’t you?”

You feel a thumb smooth over your bottom lip.

“He deserved it,” you shake your head slightly, fighting away an amused smile on your lips that he quickly wipes away, replacing with an expression of longing when his lips meet your ear.

“You’re mine.”

[corroded-hellfire]

Can we get Reader’s first Mother’s Day after Eliza is born? I’m imagining Eliza in a little “I 🩷 Mommy” onesie.

Also manifesting a heartfelt moment between Reader & Ryan ok byeeeee ✌🏻

Eliza in onesie? Check. Heartfelt moment with Ryan? Check. Cheesiness? Check.

Words: 6.4k

[As You Wish masterlist]

A low whining starts off slow but grows in both volume and intensity. The moment it registers in Eddie’s sleeping brain, he blinks his eyes open and is quick to grab the baby monitor and turn the sound down so it doesn’t wake you. Gently, he sets the monitor back down on his nightstand and rolls to look over his shoulder, checking to see if you’re still asleep. 

A sleepy smile grows on Eddie’s face as he watches you, still out like a light, lips parted, and curled up with the comforter tucked up over your shoulder. If he didn’t have to get up to get your daughter, your husband would burrow under the blankets and cuddle up against you for the rest of the morning. But today is all about you and that starts with Eddie getting up bright and early so you don’t have to.

The moment the door to Eliza’s nursery cracks open, her whines go from half-hearted to insistent. She knows someone is there and she is going to make damn sure they hear her and come get her. 

“Hey, there’s my little sunshine,” Eddie says as he steps into the nursery. 

Eliza watches him with her wide brown eyes as he goes over to her pink curtains, parting them to let some light filter into the room. The sun isn’t even fully out yet, but the brightening gray sky provides enough of a shine to see by.

“How’d you sleep, hmm?” Eddie asks as he picks the seven-month-old up out of her crib. 

Her chubby little fingers instantly grab at the shoulder of Eddie’s faded Hellfire shirt. She sighs contently when her dad presses a few kisses into the wispy baby hairs at her temple. 

“You hungry?” 

The rest of the house is silent as the two make their way to the kitchen. Eliza’s little hums and coos keep her occupied, like she’s having some sort of conversation, as Eddie sets her into her Disney princess highchair.

“I’ll heat up a bottle and then we’ll go watch some TV, okay?” Eddie asks the baby through a yawn.

He receives no reply as he pulls a prepared baby bottle out of the refrigerator and pops it into the microwave. As it heats up, Eddie goes around the kitchen, pulling out a frying pan, a spatula, and some cooking spray. Eliza watches with curiosity, but the moment the microwave beeps, her eyes snap in that direction, and she whines to get the attention of her father.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Eddie says, ruffling the tiny bit of hair that Eliza has as he passes by her.

The milk passes the wrist temperature test, so Eddie scoops his daughter up and makes his way into the living room with her. 

“Okay,” he says through another yawn. “What should we watch? Let’s see what’s already in the DVD player. Oh, you like Hercules. Perfect.”

Eddie presses play on the remote and settles down on the couch with Eliza. He kicks out his plaid pajama clad legs and rests his feet on the coffee table as he situates Eliza against his body so he’s best able to feed her. 

The little girl eagerly accepts her food, snuggling back against her dad’s chest as she takes over the responsibility of holding the bottle. Her eyes remain trained on the screen as she drinks, Eddie becoming invested in the movie as well. He even starts to sing to her as she finishes up the last of her milk.

“Like a shooting star, I will go the distance

I will search the world, I will face its harms

I don’t care how far, I can go the distance

‘Til I find my hero’s welcome waiting in your arms.”

Bright, shining eyes stare up at Eddie, making him chuckle once the song is over. Eliza blinks a few times, her dark long lashes kissing her cheeks with each flutter.

“Like when I sing?” Eddie asks her. 

As a response, she drops her empty bottle and snuggles even further into her dad’s chest, making herself as comfortable as possible. Eddie gently rests his head atop her softer, smaller one and keeps watching the movie with her. 

About halfway through the movie, Ryan comes down the hallway, rubbing his left eye as he trudges into the living room. 

“Morning, pal,” Eddie greets.

“Mornin’,” Ryan answers, waving to his little sister as he passes the couch. 

Eddie turns his head to tell his son, “I got everything you’ll need out for you. On the counter by the stove. Well, you’ll need to get the food parts out of the fridge, but I got the other stuff.”

“Thanks,” Ryan says as he continues on to the kitchen. 

Now instead of the movie, Eddie’s attention is on any and all sounds coming from the kitchen. Yes, he trusts Ryan and knows he’s a competent kid—but he’s still only a twelve-year-old kid. After about ten minutes, Eddie can’t take it any longer and places Eliza in her pink flowery walker so he can go check in on his oldest son. 

Ryan’s doing surprisingly well. He has all the ingredients that he needs out, and he has everything set up around him. He’s about to open the carton of eggs when Eddie raises his eyebrows.

“Did you wash your hands before you started cooking?”

“Oh, right.” 

As Ryan goes over to the sink, Eddie hears “Hi, Eliza!” come from the living room. The heavy tread that accompanies the voice lets Eddie know exactly where Luke is until the ten-year-old pops up beside him.

“I’m hungry,” Luke says. 

Eddie musses up the boy’s curls and nods his head.

“Eliza and I will go wake up the star of the day and then I’ll make you breakfast.”

The door to your bedroom slowly swings open, the heads of your husband and daughter popping in. The moment Eliza’s gaze falls on you, she immediately wants to be brought to your side. 

“Okay, okay,” Eddie whispers as he walks over to the bed. He sits down on his side of the bed and lets Eliza go, who wastes no time crawling over to you. She wraps her small arms around your head, hugging it, and making Eddie laugh. “Why don’t you give Mommy some kisses? Wake her up like Sleeping Beauty?”

Eliza just tilts her head to look up at him, not knowing what he means. Your husband demonstrates by leaning over and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. This motion is what wakes you up, but you give no sign of being conscious, enjoying listening to your husband and daughter. 

The infant does her best to copy her father, but really just slobbers on your face, which makes you laugh and peek your eyes open at her.

“Well, hello there,” you say, wiping baby drool off of your nose before it can run down any farther. 

“Happy Mother’s Day!” Eddie cheers, one hand on Eliza’s back as if he’s encouraging her to say it as well.

“Thank you, Sweet Pea.” You press a kiss to your daughter’s cheek. “And thank you, baby.” Eddie leans in and gives you a peck on the lips. “Where are my boys?”

“Ryan is actually preparing your first gift of the day,” Eddie explains. “And Luke is either helping him or being a pain in the ass.”

As if he knew he was being talked about, Luke rushes into the room and does a running jump onto the bed.

“I’m heeeeeeere!”

Your middle child belly flops on the foot of the bed before army crawling up to you and wrapping an arm around your neck to press a kiss to your cheek.

“Happy Mother’s Day,” he says.

“Thank you, honey.”

You take a look around at everyone on the bed and stick your lower lip out in a pout.

“I’m missing my oldest.”

Eddie presses a kiss to the top of Eliza’s head and makes sure she’s securely between you and Luke before he gets up from the bed.

“Let me go check on him.”

While Eddie walks out of the room, Luke wriggles himself so his arms wrap around Eliza’s small frame and lays his head on your shoulder.

“So,” he says, looking up at you, his blue eyes full of excitement. “It’s a surprise but you gotta know so you’ll be ready on time so I’m gonna tell you my gift!”

“Ready on time?” you ask, brows pinching together.

“Mhmm!” Luke says, letting Eliza chew on his thumb. “The art studio near Dad’s work is having a special Mommy and Me painting day and you and I are gonna go!”

“Luke, that sounds perfect,” you say, a bright grin lighting up your face. “I can’t wait.”

Eddie steps back into the room with Ryan, who has batter smudged on his nose. 

“Happy Mother’s Day!” Ryan says, coming over and giving you a hug.

“Thank you, sweetheart. What have you been making a mess of?” you tease, poking his nose just below the smeared batter. 

“My present to you!” he says excitedly. “I made breakfast. Just for the two of us.”

A gasp of excitement escapes your lips, and you rest your forehead against Ryan’s.

“He’s even set up a nice place setting out on the porch for you guys,” Eddie adds. “I’ll be managing the gremlins inside.”

“Hey! Who you calling a gremlin?” Luke asks, sitting up and narrowing his eyes at his father.

As if in response, Eliza presses her hands flat against Luke’s stomach and gives him a push.

“He was talking about you too, you know,” Luke tells his baby sister with a sigh. She copies his sigh and flops dramatically across his lap. 

There’s a soft breeze outside as you sit across the table from Ryan, enjoying the French toast breakfast that he made for the two of you. Surprisingly, it tastes really good—better than any breakfast that’s been made for you in a long time.

“I think you should take over cooking for your dad from now on,” you tell Ryan with a playful smirk on your face. Before he can respond, your eyes catch on the mug sitting at your place setting. It’s white with a gold handle, and in the same golden color it says “World’s Best Mom” in a swoopy font.

For a moment you just stare at it, admiring it, and feeling your heart fill up with warmth. Carefully, you reach forward and lift the mug full of coffee towards you.

“This is beautiful, sweetheart,” you tell Ryan, looking at him over the rim of the mug. “Thank you.”

There’s a smile on Ryan’s face that’s a mixture of excitement and that mischievous look he used to get when he was a little boy. 

“You should look at the back,” he says as you’re mid-sip.

Once you swallow your mouthful of coffee, you slowly turn the mug one hundred and eighty degrees to take a look at the other side. The sight that greets you has your eyes immediately filling with tears. Printed on the mug is a family picture of the five of you—the very first picture the five of you had taken together after Eliza had been born. The newborn is still wrapped in her blanket from the hospital as you hold her while sitting on the couch, Eddie right beside you. On his other side is Luke, grinning that hundred-watt smile that can light up any room. And on your other side is Ryan, leaning in close because just before the picture was snapped, he had his head bent over Eliza and was telling her that she was home now. 

As much as you want to thank Ryan for the gift, your throat feels too constricted for words. 

“Oh my God,” you’re finally able to squeak out. It takes you another few moments before you can speak again. “Ryan, I absolutely love it. It’s perfect. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

You set the mug back down on the table and open your arms for him. The oldest Munson boy pushes out of his chair and walks around the table, where you pull him into a bone crushing hug. He laughs as he wraps his arms around you to embrace you in return. Giving a little extra tug, you pull Ryan all the way into your lap, which has him laughing even harder. The pure joy his laughter radiates has you even more emotional than you already were. 

“I don’t care if you’re too big for this now!” you say, words muffled against his back. Ryan tries to situate himself a little better, so you loosen your grip but don’t let him go. He drops his head back, realizing he isn’t going to be let free just yet, and the way the back of his skull becomes cradled in the crook of your elbow reminds you of how you held Eliza when she was smaller. A chuckle stuffed with a dozen different emotions bubbles out of you and you smooth some of Ryan’s golden brown curls off his forehead. 

“I don’t care that you’ll be a teenager soon. I don’t care that you’re almost as tall as me. You’re still my little boy. You’ll always be my little boy.” 

A smile tugs at the corners of Ryan's mouth.

“I’m so lucky that you’re my son,” you say softly. 

Doe eyes that are so much like his father’s and his sister’s stare up at you from where his head rests on your arm, love and curiosity in his gaze.

“Did you love us before you loved Dad?” he asks.

It’s not something you expected him to ask, not something you thought about in a long time.

“That’s a tricky question,” you say, brows pinching together. “Because they’re different types of love. But, yeah, I did love you guys first. It was impossible not to after spending time with you.”

Ryan tilts his head, looking away pensively. He’s quiet and you wish you knew what was going on in his brilliant, beautiful mind.

“That’s pretty cool,” he finally says. “Some people have trouble finding the person they belong with. But you found three.” He smiles. “You were always meant to be my mom.”

The tears that began to build up earlier now fall down your cheeks and Ryan is quick to sit up and wipe them away. 

“I didn’t mean to make you cry!”

“It’s a good cry,” you assure him with a watery smile through your sniffles. “It’s very, very good.”

The second that you step through the door into the classroom where the Mommy and Me paint session is happening, Luke’s eyes go wide. All the art that hangs on the walls mesmerizes him as the two of you find a pair of empty canvases to sit at. 

Towards the back of the room, you and Luke take seats at a table on the left side. There are two easels perched on the table that hold blank white canvases. Between the two, there are a myriad of colored paints for you and Luke to share, as well as a variety of brushes of different sizes. 

You’re about to redirect Luke into a conversation with you because it seems like all the art surrounding him has him on overdrive, head constantly on a swivel in an attempt to see everything and you don’t want him to get overstimulated. But before you can open your mouth, the teacher at the front of the class calls for attention. 

“Happy Mother’s Day everyone!” she says. “I’m so glad that so many of you wanted to spend time painting with your moms today! I’m Hannah and I’ll be your instructor for this class.” Hannah explains the basic rules, how the class works, and offers to answer any questions. “Sometimes we have themes we work on in these classes, but I’m not here to tell you what to paint. But wouldn’t it be cool if each mom and child’s set of paintings had a common theme?”

Luke perks up at this, instantly loving the idea. He swivels to you in his seat and nods his head so emphatically he reminds you of a bobblehead doll.

When you’re given free rein to work on your paintings, Luke plucks a thin paintbrush out of the holder and taps it against his chin.

“What should we paint?”

“What about…the ocean?” you suggest. “You can paint the pirate ship that’s on top of the water and I can paint the mermaid that’s under the water.”

Luke gets very excited about your idea and nods enthusiastically once more. You swear, you feel like you have to stop him before a spring pops out of his neck. 

“Ooh! We should turn the canvases like this!” Luke tilts both canvases so they’re landscape and would look better one on top of the other.

“Very smart,” you praise. 

Luke appraises his canvas and decides where to start painting the bottom of his ship, when his eyes glance over to your blank canvas and he’s struck with an idea.

“You should make the mermaid look like Eliza! Not like…a baby, but with her color hair and eyes. And maybe a pink tail since she loves pink!”

You chuckle, eyes crinkling in the corner as you nod your head in agreement. “I can’t think of anyone who would make a more magical mermaid than your sister,” you say.

“You would,” Luke says casually as he dips his brush in some coppery-taupe paint. 

Warmth fills your body and your hand stalls on its way to grab a brush at his compliment. You make a mental note to ruffle his curls up later when your hands are clean and press a kiss to the top of his head.

“Like The Little Mermaid?” you ask.

“Yeah,” Luke says, brush stroking from side to side to paint the broad side of the ship. “But, like, the Disney one, not the Brother’s Grimm one where she doesn’t break the spell in time and turns into seafoam.”

Your giggle was pink, the same shade that you’d chosen for your mermaid’s tail.

Conversation flows and ebbs easily between the two of you as the ninety-minute class ticks by—it’s always easy and never boring with Luke around. Occasionally, you ask one another for advice on your paintings or ask how something is coming along. Once the instructor announces that time is up, you and Luke clean up your area while the teacher goes from table to table, taking pictures of the mothers and children with their paintings.

When she gets to you, you squat down so that you can hold your mermaid below Luke’s pirate ship. The ten-year-old holds his painting below his chin, giving the camera a proud smile, while you’re out to the side of the paintings, also sporting a proud smile. But your pride isn’t in your artwork—it’s in having Luke as your son.

When the two of you get back home, Luke eagerly shows off your paintings and Polaroid to Eddie, who, of course, loves them. The photo immediately goes on the fridge, held up by Luke’s favorite Shrek magnet, and the paintings are set on the entertainment unit until you and Luke can find a good place to hang them. 

“Someone says she just woke up from her nap and is ready to hang out with Mommy,” Eddie sing-songs as he walks into the living room from the hall, where he was picking up the little Liza Bean from her nap time. Your favorite part, though, is that Eliza is wearing a white onesie that says “I 💜 Mommy.”

“Well, look at you!” you say, gleefully accepting your daughter from your husband. “And I heart Eliza! Mwah!”

“She’s got a surprise for you, too,” Eddie says.

You cock an eyebrow at your husband. “Oh, really? If it’s in her diaper I’m handing her back to you.”

Eddie laughs and presses a kiss to your forehead.

“No, not in her diaper. But it is in the bathroom.”

“The bathroom?” you question. 

Eliza babbles as if she’s asking about the location as well.

“What are you asking for?” Eddie teases Eliza. “You know what it is.”

After a small boop to Eliza’s nose, Eddie slips his hand into yours and leads you into the master bathroom. Products in an array of colors are laid out on the counter and there’s a radio with a CD player tucked into the corner.

“What’s all this?” you ask, taking everything before you in. 

Eddie casually strolls over to the counter and begins to present the different items as if he’s Vanna White.

“Hair mask for Mom, baby oil for Eliza’s hair,” he begins. “Oh, don’t worry, before you ask, Eliza and I got help from the people at the store who actually knew what they were talking about. Right, baby girl? Right. Okay, so. Next, face mask for Mom, oatmeal lotion for Eliza’s face. Then, as you can see, you have a variety of scents to choose from for your luxurious bubble bath. And body lotion for Mom, and more baby oil for Eliza.”

You’re overwhelmed by everything Eddie prepared and look down at your daughter in your arms, smiling up at you with her single tooth proudly on display in her lower gums. You’re overcome with how adorable she is and need to nuzzle your face against hers.

“Are we having a Mommy and Eliza spa afternoon?”

“All her idea,” Eddie says, holding up his hands in front of him. 

With a chuckle, you step forward and press a soft, slow kiss to your husband’s lips.

“This is absolutely the sweetest thing ever,” you whisper against his mouth. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you, my love. You deserve some relaxation. Thought this would be some nice time for my girls.” Eddie’s eyes go back and forth from you to Eliza, Eliza to you, and the pure love that shines through his gaze is enough to get you tearing up again. 

“Isn’t Daddy the best?” you ask Eliza, who is too busy looking at everything laid out on the counter.

“I think she just wants to get to it,” Eddie says. “I’ll leave you girls to your spa.”

On his way towards the bathroom door, Eddie presses play and the CD in the player begins playing instrumental, lullaby covers of popular songs that you had purchased for Eliza. 

It makes you laugh, and Eddie gives you a wink, about to head out the door, but he stops short.

“Oh! One more thing.”

He steps back in and closes the door to reveal two lavender bathrobes hanging on the back, one that has “Mommy” embroidered on the back and one that says “Eliza.”

“Eddie!” You say his name with a gasp. “Oh my God, they’re so pretty.”

“Gotta keep my girls comfy even when they come out of the spa,” he says with another wink. “I’ll leave you girls to it.”

Once Eddie is gone and has shut the door behind him, you take a deep breath, wondering where to begin.

“Let’s see,” you say to Eliza. “What scented bubble bath should we use?”

Using one arm to grab all five different options, you lower yourself to the cold tile floor below and let Eliza rest between your spread legs. She leans against you and immediately picks up one of the bottles.

“Wanna try this one first? Okay. Let’s see, this is vanilla scented.” You unscrew the cap and take a sniff. It’s a faint smell, but it’s nice. When you offer it for Eliza to smell, she’s clearly unimpressed as she doesn’t even spare the bottle a second glance. “We’ll call that a maybe.” You set that one to the side and grab another bottle. Rose Water. The scent isn’t bad to you, but it immediately makes little Eliza sneeze. That one gets pushed farther away as you giggle at how adorable your little girl’s sneezes are. The third option is Cherry Blossoms and by the way Eliza wanted to take this bottle from your hands, you’d say she liked it. A definite contender since you enjoyed it as well. Tropical Mango is a hit with Eliza, not so much with you, and Citrus smelled nice and clean but Eliza wrinkled up her nose more than you’ve ever seen her do before. Cherry Blossoms it is.

You let Eliza stay seated on the floor and push the other bottles around while you get up to run the bath water and add the bubbles. Next up, adding the baby oil to Eliza’s hair proves amusing because she keeps trying to roll her eyeballs up high enough to see what you’re doing. It’s impossible not to giggle and you press a kiss to her nose. 

“Silly girl.”

Adding your own hair mask is much simpler, but Eliza still studies you, and you can’t help but wonder what’s going through her little mind as she watches you now—never mind what goes on in your house on a day-to-day basis. 

“You ready for the water?” 

Carefully, you step into the tub—making sure both facemasks are within reach—and lower both you and Eliza into the warm water and bubbles. 

The seven-month-old clearly isn’t sure how she feels about sitting in the water at first, but once she realizes you’re sitting in there with her and it’s warm, she likes it. Slowly, she begins to get a little more adventurous and starts to make small splashes. These amuse her greatly until the bubbles start growing higher; then she seems a little concerned by them. All it takes is you scooping some up in your hand and blowing on them so they scatter and fly around to catch the baby’s attention again. She sits facing you and you gather enough suds to give her a bubble beard. This tickles her both literally and figuratively because she can’t stop laughing once it’s on her. 

The sound is pure joy and so infectious. You laugh with her, silently wishing she could always be this happy. 

The song on the CD changes to the instrumental, lullaby version of You’re My Best Friend by Queen. 

“I love this song,” you tell her. 

“Ooh, you make me live

Whatever this world can give to me

It’s you, you’re all I see

Ooh, you make me live now, honey

Ooh, you make me live.”

Eliza is mesmerized by your singing, and it makes you chuckle. She rests her head against your chest but the oil in her hair has her head slipping around, making you laugh even more. 

With a sigh, you sink a little further into the water to relax.

“When you’re old enough to head bang,” you say, “I’ll teach you Bohemian Rhapsody. But fair warning, once you can head bang your dad is gonna make you do it to his music all the time.”

After you’ve soaked for a bit and both your and Eliza’s fingers are pruny, you reach over the side of the tub and grab the face mask and oatmeal lotion. First you apply Eliza’s and you’re surprised at how still she sits and lets you rub it around her face. Maybe it feels nice to her, just like a facial should. As you apply the mask to your skin, Eliza starts to giggle.

“What’s so funny?” you ask her.

Her ferocious giggles continue, and you realize she must be laughing at how you look because she looks silly even in her little oatmeal mask. The two of you laugh and you have to hold Eliza steady because even though she’s getting very good at sitting up on her own now, she’s laughing so hard that she keeps almost falling over. 

Taking a washcloth, you first gently take off Eliza’s mask and then your own. Though her giggles have subsided, Eliza looks up at you with a smile on her lips and a glimmer of happiness in her eyes. 

“This isn’t my first Mother’s Day,” you tell her, voice soft at first, “but it’s my first one with a baby. My little Sweet Pea. You and your brothers—and your dad—made this such a wonderful day. I’m so lucky to have you all. Thank you for choosing me to be your mom. I’d like to think you chose me, anyway.”

The little girl puckers her lips and makes a smacking sound as if she blew you a kiss.

“Right back atcha, kid.”

As soon as you get both of your hairs rinsed out, all you can think about is the soft plush bathrobe that’s awaiting you. But first, lotion. As you apply yours to your body, Eliza watches the water go down the drain of the tub with complete fascination. She peeks over the side of the tub, mesmerized with the whirlpool collecting near the pulled plug. 

“Ready to be moisturized?” you ask her once all the water has disappeared. “Want that baby smooth skin?” Your own joke makes you laugh as you pop the top on the baby oil.

Eliza isn’t used to the sensation of having something slick on her skin. The slightly furrowed brow and the way she keeps running her hands lightly over her arms tells you she isn’t sure how she feels about it. 

The time has now come for the bathrobes. The mini one comes off its hook first. It’s a little difficult to maneuver her body into the robe, but you soon get it situated on her and tie the fuzzy belt at her waist. She is a purple marshmallow, and the cuteness threatens to make your heart burst. A pleasurable sigh hums through you as you slip into your own robe. The way it feels like you’re wearing a pillow and cuddled up cozy but not constricted or overheated has you daydreaming about wearing this every single day. 

“Come on you,” you say, picking up your fashion twin. “Let’s go see Daddy.”

Footsteps approach the living room and Eddie turns his head from the television to see you and Eliza making your entrance. A laugh of amusement falls from your husband’s lips.

“Look at my girls! A vision in purple!”

You walk around the couch and sit down on his lap, holding Eliza on your own.

“Tell Daddy that we had a nice relaxing time.”

“Good,” Eddie says and presses a kiss to your cheek. A strong hand rubs up and down your back and it relaxes you even further. 

“Where are the boys?” you ask, voice sounding slightly distant as his touch lulls your body practically pliant.

“In the kitchen,” Eddie says, “going over the takeout menu for the Chinese place a few blocks over. So we’ll probably see them in an hour or two.”

Letting out a soft chuckle, you snuggle up against your husband, your baby cocooned between you.

“I love Chinese food.”

“That’s why we’re getting it, princess. It’s your day,” Eddie tells you before looking down at your daughter. “Right, Liza?”

Eliza simply blinks at him in response and buries her face in the soft fabric of your robe.

“Oh,” Eddie says as a thought resurfaces in his mind. He looks over the back of the couch to make sure neither of the boys are coming. “I have to tell you what Luke said. And, well, Ryan too.”

“What is it?”

Eddie’s smile is one filled with happiness and pride and it’s making you all the more curious. 

“When you were in the bathroom—excuse me, I mean spa—Luke was telling us about the art class and how much fun it was. Then he kind of pauses and says, ‘You know…no, never mind. It will sound stupid.’ But I was like, come on, what’s on your mind, kid? And he goes, ‘I’ve always known how much Ryan and I are loved by everyone; our family. But I guess seeing how we’re treated the same way…’ And then he trailed off and sighed, and I think he couldn’t figure out how to phrase what he wanted to say. But I guess Ryan knew where he was going because he took over. He says, “We’re not treated any differently than Eliza. We’re all…’ Then he trailed off, but I caught where they were going then. So, I said, ‘You’re all her kids. Each one of you three is just as much her child as the other two. There’s no difference.’”

Tears flood your eyes but you’re not entirely sure what emotion is provoking them.

“They thought—” your voice cracks and you can’t continue.

“No, no, hey,” Eddie reassures you. “Both of them said it was something they never thought about. Not even after Eliza was born. But I guess a kid in Luke’s class or something says his stepdad doesn’t treat him like his son and Luke thought that was crazy. All he’s known since he was five is you loving him as if he’s your own. Because he is your son. Then I guess Luke talked to Ryan about it and they thought back and couldn’t think of a time where you treated Eliza as more important than them. I think it was an emotional revelation. One that they don’t take lightly. They know that they’re your babies, too. God, I wish you could’ve seen the looks on their faces when we were talking about this. Just the pride they have that you’re their mom. That you chose them and love them as fiercely and deeply as possible. Sweetheart, the only thing that was my idea today was the spa with Eliza. Everything with the boys? That all came from them. I hope you know how much they love you.”

“I do,” you admit with a sniffly smile, cheeks completely stained with tear tracks. “They chose me too. They’re my sons.”

Eliza looks up at you and babbles and coos, clearly wanting to be part of this conversation. 

Both you and Eddie chuckle at her insistence and Eddie takes the opportunity to wipe your face. 

“And you’re my daughter,” you say to Eliza. 

“No denying that with how much you look like Mommy, huh?” Eddie says, running the back of his forefinger down Eliza’s soft, chubby cheek. 

“Hey!” Luke says as the boys come back into the room, Ryan holding the takeout menu in his hand. “Why didn’t we get matching robes too?”

“The color clashes with your skin,” Eddie quips.

“I’d like to be included in these things is all I’m saying,” Luke says as he sits on the couch perpendicular to the one you’re on.

Ryan perches on the arm of the couch you’re on and opens the menu.

“We figured out what we want,” Ryan says, offering the menu to Eddie. “We circled them.”

“In red pen,” Luke adds. “The blue pen is from the last time we ordered.”

“Red pen,” Eddie repeats. “Got it.” 

Reluctantly, you slip off of his lap so he can go call and make the order. Truthfully, you’d rather stay curled up in your husband’s lap, forget the Chinese food, and survive on Eddie’s cuddles alone.

“Want your usual, babe?” Eddie asks you.

“Yes please.”

The sound of footsteps fades the closer Eddie gets to the kitchen. You wave both of the boys over to come sit with you.

“Boys,” you stage whisper.

They come over, Luke plopping down on your left side and Ryan hunkering down on your right. Gently, you tuck Eliza between your and Ryan’s bodies before you wrap an arm around each of the boys’ shoulders and pull them in for a hug.

“Thank you for—oh, yes, Eliza you’re included in this too,” you say when Eliza harrumphs at you. “Thank you for the most amazing Mother’s Day. This was one of the best days I’ve ever had.”

“In your whole life?” Luke asks.

“In my whole life,” you affirm. “And thank you all for making me a mom. It’s the hardest but coolest thing I’ve ever done.”

“Being your kid is pretty cool, too,” Luke says. “Don’t worry, we’ll make sure Eliza knows that as soon as she understands words.”

With a tired but content smile, you lean back against the cushions on the couch and immediately feel little hands and knees digging into various parts of your body as Eliza climbs up your body and makes herself comfortable, her clean head and hair coming to rest on your chest. From the position you were in when you hugged the boys, your arms are still stiff and wide open, and Luke is the first to take advantage of that.

He tucks himself into your side, resting his head on your shoulder. Ryan copies his actions (instead of the other way around for a change) and leans against your right side, careful of Eliza’s tiny head that is so close to his. 

For a few moments you just sit there, thinking. Enjoying this time, with all three of your children in your arms. You close your eyes and savor it, just you and your babies in this moment.

Eddie strolls back in from the kitchen.

“Food is on its way—oh. Well, don’t we all look comfortable?” Eddie smiles as his gaze roams over the couch, taking in every detail of the four of you. His oldest babies who helped get him through one of the worst periods of his life. You, the great love of his life who saved him in every possible way. And the small baby girl that the two of you created together. 

You tilt your head and rest it against Luke’s, looking up at Eddie with a soft smile. 

His eyes meet yours and no words need to be said. Everything you need to express to one another is in that look. The love, the happiness, the gratefulness. Both of you realize the million and one things that had to line up just right for this moment to be a reality. It’s exciting to think about what the choices that were made today will lead you to in your future together. Only time will tell—and right now? This particular moment is one you’d like to pause. Maybe pause it until you can wring every moment of blissfulness from it that you possibly can. But you already know that would be impossible—the joy in this moment is endless.

[pickingupmymercedes]

Ways to say "I love you" - Lewis Hamilton

I'm back with more Lew ❤️

warnings: mostly fluff, bit of angsty

wordcount: +3k

important: each drabble was writen as a snippet into different moments with Lewis. There's 10 more of those, but this was getting huge, so this is part 1.

With a hoarse voice, under the blankets

Life had been hectic, as it tended to be around the weeks before the final couple of races. You and Lewis had been on the road since mid October, not really going back to Europe since the US GP in Texas. The week off between São Paulo and Las Vegas the perfect opportunity to take a few days off in California with his friends. It was tiring, but you’d never complain of having a full passport as a down feature for your job.

The week of the Las Vegas GP was packed of events and promo for everyone, and to top it off a quick impromptu meeting with the board in the media day of the GP turned into a 5 hours long debate, that went well into the night.

You got back to your suite almost at midnight in serious need of a shower and some sleep. What you didn’t predict was Lewis already tucked into the bed, sound asleep.

You tiptoed around the room to try and find your things, not being lucky in the slightest you settled for a shirt Lewis had used in the road trip from LA to Vegas. The quick shower, only meant to decompress, had you engulfed in Lewis’ perfume, from both his shower products and shirt.

Lewis soft breathing guided you to the bed in the darkness of the room and when you got under the soft covers a pair of arms guided you to his chest, the one place sure to get you blacked out in minutes.

“They're in serious trouble for keeping you for so long” his horse voice an indication he had been in deep sleep already

“Sorry, took longer than we expected”

“Can’t wait to have you all to myself. Gonna have to lock you up at home during winter”

“No need, I’ll always find my way to you”. You mumbled into his neck, already nestling closer to him, ready to drift off.

A scream

“I love you” You screamed when you realized you’d never catch him, mid airport track, hoping the wind would somehow carry your words. His head turned abruptly, his face had confusion written all over his features, he was stuck in place, too stunned to comprehend the sudden confession you were hollering to the world but couldn’t say aloud to him just hours ago. You ran to him, security, people and restrictions be damned, that was your one chance.

“I love you, Lewis. I have loved you for longer than I care to admit, I have not stopped loving you even when I said I didn’t, even when hating you was all I wanted.” within arm’s reach you admitted breathlessly, doe eyes looking at you with such intensity you were sure he could see into your soul. His hands cautiously outstretching towards yours, waiting for you to take it, waiting for your mind to catch up to the feelings you had just admitted, waiting to see if you’d finally let your heart take over.

You didn’t take his hand though, going instead for the back of his neck, caressing the soft skin at the base of his hairline with your fingers, his overwhelming gaze waiting for your next move, for you to fully give in, looking from his eyes to his mouth until his scent and his touch were all that you felt. His hold on the lower of your back, the brush of his eyelashes on your cheeks and his taste on your lips were all you could ever want. The decision of a lifetime, one that after that day you would make every day, over and over.

On a random Tuesday afternoon, the late sunlight glowing in your hair

The thing with Lewis was he was too much of an Capricorn for his own good, the earth in him urged for stability and trust, and in the familiarity and serenity of home he urged for security, not that he wanted a predictable life, but he wished that no matter what, he had someone he could fall back on.

“Move in with me” He blurred out of nowhere causing you to lightly laugh at him, scotching closer to his chest as if there was any space left between you, both laying comfortably tangled in each other in his house in London. Pillows and blankets around you on the floor, the late afternoon sunlight hitting the glass on the dining table and reflecting up at the ceiling, a movie on the tv neither were paying attention to.

“I mean it. I don’t see myself without you, I don’t want to anyway.” he almost whispered in your ears, the low volume to his voice amplifying the seriousness in his proposal. Turning your head to look at him you held your gaze into his for minutes, almost daring him to call off the offer, but he never did. His warm smile spreading onto his features when you crocked your head and smirked, specks of the late sunlight glowing where they hit your hair.

“I’d love to” you murmured, straddling him and pushing his chest so he’d lay back down on the blankets, hovering your face over his, leaving ghostly soft kisses on his lips, coming back up to look him in the eye, time and time again. Convincing yourself that it was okay to finally let your walls down for good.

“I love you; you know?!” a statement so surely presented to your, so pure. He didn’t wait to hear it back before pulling your to his chest and his lips, he didn’t have to.

When baking chocolate chip cookies

“We’re baking chocolate chip cookies!” You exclaimed as you entered his home gym in London mid-winter break, supplies in hand already anticipating half of the ingredients wouldn’t exist in his fridge.

“Excuse me?” He questioned as he set the weights down and reached for the towel to get the sweat dry from his forehead

“C’mom, vegan chocolate chip cookies” you rushedly told him already half way back inside, leaving a confused Lewis searching for any meaning to what had just happened.

As he approached his kitchen, he could hear the soft music playing in the speakers in the background while you danced around arranging the things you’d need.

“Care to explain, love?” He leaned at the stool just under the glistening spotlight and the couple of trays spread at the kitchen island.

“Your niece and nephew are coming over tomorrow” She retorted, almost a duh expression on her features as she chopped the vegan chocolate bar.

“Y/n, they know I’m preparing for the season” He lovingly replied, getting closer to you.

“Oh, they’re not exactly for you, Lew. I mean, they’re still vegan if you want to try them.” You turned into his embrace, leaving a kiss to the corner of his lips before wiggling back to where the many food items were.

“You show up at my house midafternoon, fully stacked, to bake vegan cookies for kids that aren’t coming until tomorrow and don’t really expect to eat anything but fruits ?!” He crocked his head, smirk fully on display as his eyes gleamed.

“That’s like half the reason I came. Apples and bananas are fine, but they are kids.” You shrugged as that was the most obvious thing.

“We’re really baking cookies then, I guess?!” He reached to you and grabbed the flour off of your hand, pouring it into a bowl.

“Chocolate chip cookies” You corrected him, laughing as he stole a few of the chopped chocolates still sitting on the chopping board 

 

Not said to me

You jolted up from your sleep when you heard a loud cry, frantically looking around the room you remembered you weren’t home when your eyes found the luggage in the corner, yours and Lewis’s belongings neatly tucked in the adjoining closet, a stark contrast to the baby clothes and toys scattered around the floor and armchairs. Slowly coming to your senses, you realized the crying was in your dreams when you heard a happy babble, followed by your husband’s low voice coming from the balcony of the hotel room.

“Sshh love, we don’t want to wake mamma up now do we? She’s taking a nap so we can go for a walk down the beach later.” The little girl instantly responding with a babble at the word she knew all too well.

Getting up you didn’t have the heart to interrupt the scene that played out when you peaked from the opened French doors of the room, deciding to quietly watch from the threshold as he kept blowing raspberries onto your daughter’s tummy, the chunky toddler in nothing but her diapers, in the hot afternoon summer breeze of Italy in July, excitedly clapping her hands for her dad while sitting on his legs.

“Oh, I miss her too baby, even when she’s just in the other room… I’ll tell you a secret though, even if momma tells the world we’re twins, every time I see your eyes, I see hers, the same one I’ve been in love with for a long time. Everyone says you are my hard carbon copy, but I love that I get to look into a piece of your mommy whenever I look at you".

When we lay together by the sun

The sun in your skin felt divine, a stark contrast to the wintery end of year you’d been having back in Europe, the heat and humidity in the air bringing to your senses the familiarity of northeast Brazilian weather in the hottest months of the year. His touch on your shoulder blades providing even more warmth, big hands massaging your whole back with sunscreen.

���By all means I’m the biggest fan of your back massages, but I put on sunscreen just a couple of hours ago” you giggled looking at him over your shoulders, sunglasses on the tip of your nose.

“Just making sure you’re protected, will you do mine?” He asked after tying the strings on the upper part of your bikini and giving your bum a checky light smack.

“Yeah… come here you Briton” grabbing him by the arms you sat up on the lounger and guided him to sit in between in your legs, his back already hot from the sun exposure.

“Thank you for coming here with me, I know we made it a 4 times header not going home to rest for a bit after Mexico.” You told him while spreading the white content of the Brazilian sunscreen you’d bought, throwing away the british one, not properly suited to sun in the tropics from your past experiences.

“Any time, love.” turning to face you he pulled you by the waist, his signature smirk and relaxed eyes scanning yours. “Especially when it includes this little paradise.”

“Have I told you I love you yet?” You questioned, the toothy grin he loved so much splattered on your face, his strong arms around you, the sounds of crashing waves in the background, white sand in your toes and his skin smelling just like your favorite childhood memories did.

“Not today, I don’t think so. Eu te amo” a questioning look as he tested his Portuguese around you, crushing his lips in yours while you giggled, raising you up to his body so he could hold you in his lap, his touch also how home felt to you. 

Over and over again, till it’s nothing but a senseless babble

He felt the first little droplets of rain hit his skin as soon as she screamed “run”, laughing while holding her oversized hat to her head. He sprinted towards her, grabbing her waist, effortlessly stopping them both and turning her body to him, her eyes holding the warmth that lately he could only find there, his face adorned with adoration, her dimples fully showing as her lips plastered the sweetest of grins.

“I love you” He couldn’t help himself, those 3 little words coming out as easily as breath, the thought of how hard it’d been to get them out in the first place long forgotten. She held his gaze as if trying to eternalize those memories, the afternoon summer rain falling hard around them whilst rays of sunlight hit the concrete, their clothes drenched, drops of water running down their tangled bodies.

“I love you; I love you; I love you” senseless babbles that professed his utmost emotion, holding her up to him and kissing in the pouring rain like they were teenagers in a cheesy movie.

A whisper in the ear

Being back to Europe always took you some time to get acclimated, and it didn’t help that that particular winter had been the coldest in years, so much colder than what your body was used to, so you wrapped yourself up in blankets waiting for your boyfriend to get out of the shower and join you in bed, hopefully helping you to warm up.

His parents, siblings, niece and nephew were gathered for an impromptu 5 days getaway in the mountains, in the middle of wintery January, snow everywhere and days filled with winter sports, fireplaces and laughter from the people that had welcomed you as family. 

“Hey gorgeous, I thought you’d still be down there” he smirked his way to the open luggage on the little sofa by the bed, towel low on his hips and another in his hand for his face.

“Everyone went to bed, something about getting some sleep to beat you on the slopes tomorrow” You giggled the last part, knowing how competitive they could get. He chuckled and made his way towards you, getting under the blankets and bringing you over to his side, just his presence enough to soothe away the tight muscles from the cold.

“How come you’re always running so cold?” he whispered in your hair, wrapping his arms around your waist and hips and bringing you to his chest. His skin radiating warmth and the smell of your body wash, since he’d forgotten to pack his. Fingers absentmindedly tracing random patterns on your thighs, your eyes lazily trying to focus on the news on the tv but failing miserably, the world could wait until the next morning.

“I love you” was the last thing you heard he whisper, his hoarse voice heavy with sleep, his arms scooching your body closer to his while making sure the blankets covered you both before he let his own sleep take over.

As we huddle together, the storm raging outside

Sundays after races would always be busy for the both of you. The rain was falling hard as you entered the small RV as quietly as you could, founding Lewis ingulfed in his own thoughts and feelings when you finally cleared through your duties, way past the time you wish had.

Taking in how his arms and back looked tense while he rested his head on both his hands sitting in the small sofa, you brought yourself to stand right in front of him, softly running your finger on his neck until he looked up offering a sad side smile and tugged you to his lap. You hadn’t spoken to each other since before he got in his car, well over 4 hours prior, but you didn’t have to.

He needed time to process what happened, he always did. Lewis could always come to interviews looking like he had it all together, always with the right words, but you knew, from the crease in his forehead and the way his shoulders dropped whenever he breathed a little deeper, that his calculating-looking actions and words were just knee-jerk reactions.

“I love you” you said into his neck, a consolation of sorts, huddling together, sitting on his lap with his head resting on your chest and his arms holding your waist tightly. At least in that small room, neither of you had to think about the storm brewing outside, not yet anyway.

Over the shoulder

The championship had, yet again, came down to the last race and the doom could be felt even from outsiders. The last time it happened Lewis wasn’t even a Ferrari driver, but everyone remembered.

You had tried to block the subject from your conversations with him, warned everyone he had enough of the comparisons, made sure he had all the space to breath, concentrate and shield all the noise from the outside. Yet, in the apparent serenity of the hotel bedroom, the quietness would scream back at him.

“What if it’s not meant to be?” He snapped you out of your thoughts as you finished some reports on your computer. His eyes a mix of something you couldn’t quite pint point, his walls up even for you.

“Then you’re still a 7 times world champion, a driver who’s won for McLaren, Mercedes and Ferrari, a trailblazer in the sport, entrepreneur over a variety of assets, founder of Mission 44, British knight, Brazilian honorary citizen, Anthony and Carmen’s son, Nicolas’ brother, my mom’s favorite son-in-law… oh and Roscoe’s dad, of course.” He smiled as you got to his family, scootching over to be by your side on the balcony sofa and laying his head on your lap.

“I would hate to be an almost champion… twice”   

“Yeah, we would all hate that too. And it’s okay to feel all kinds of way about possible results, but we’re not gonna known until we know, right?!”  You felt him humm in response, your fingertips going through his braids, trying to sooth the tensions away from him.

It wasn’t until the soft humming of a phone in the bedroom that you realized you had fallen asleep in the balcony, his body moving almost automatically to get him up while his features revealed how he too had dozed off.

“Will you still love an almost champion?” He prompted suddenly, almost like he had just remembered he had to know, eyes twinkling under the lights.

“Babe, I stayed even in the timbs phase, didn’t I?” You smirked back earning a full soundless chuckle, those that had him reach for his diaphragm and shake his head left to right.

“You’re lucky I love you; you really are.” You heard as he looked over his shoulders just as he got back inside.

[acourtofwhatthefuck]

Loose Lips — Part Two (Eris Vanserra x Reader)

Finally got round to writing a part two to this after a sudden burst of inspiration. Here is Part One if you missed it.

This isn't proofread, so sorry if it's a pile of dicks. Enjoy!

Warnings: smuttysmutsmut 🌶️

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･

The forest was undoubtedly beautiful. A place of sure serenity. Somewhere you’d always found peace.

Right now, you felt like nothing short of a thunderbolt in its flawless midst.

You shifted on your feet for what felt like the millionth time, pressing your back against a tree and crossing your arms over your chest. You wouldn’t be able to relax until this meeting was over with.

Rhysand’s violet eyes flicked over you, and he frowned. “Are you alright? Why are you so restless?”

Because we’re here to meet with Eris and the last time I did that I somehow, kind of, maybe ended up fucking him—

“Fine.” You quickly answered. “Pain. My cycle is coming.”

Rhys’s eyes softened. “We’ll make this as quick as possible. Once the prick actually deigns to show up.”

You didn’t have a shred of doubt that Eris’s tardiness was deliberate — a power play. And he could play all the games he liked, so long as he kept his damn mouth shut.

As if you’d summoned him with a thought, the Autumn male appeared out of a chill-kissed breeze, his crackling-fire-and-cinnamon scent enveloping you. You tried desperately to block it out — and the sinful thoughts that accompanied it. Of bare skin. Panting breaths. Moans—

“Afternoon.” Eris smirked, sliding his hands into his pockets. He offered Rhysand a cursory glance before turning his attention on you. “You’re looking radiant today, Y/N.”

You pursed your lips. Kept your mouth shut. You weren’t getting into it with him — weren’t giving him any ammunition to spill the truth of what had transpired a month earlier.

His lips twitched as he studied you. “What, no smartass response?”

“Cut the shit, Eris.” Rhys rolled his eyes. “Share your information so we can get out of here. We don’t wish to be subjected to your tedious company for any longer than is necessary.”

He cocked his head, and you hated that you noticed he’d cut his hair since you’d last seen him. “Do you not like my company?”

You knew his words were directed at you. He’d come here to play games, and you were having none of it. He allowed his gaze to linger on you for a second longer before turning to your High Lord.

“Well?” Rhys cocked an eyebrow.

Eris folded his arms. “The King of Hybern…”

You didn’t allow yourself to hear the rest of his sentence. For the first time in your career as Rhysand’s courtier, you tuned out, taking in none of the information that was being given. You didn’t hear a word of their discussion as you stared fiercely at a fallen leaf on the ground. You couldn’t.

Because it tortured you on a daily basis that you knew what the redhead’s voice sounded like when he was falling off that precipice into blissful release. The way it had hitched when he’d groaned deeply and spilled into you. It was all you could think about, and you couldn’t bear it.

Guilt had eaten away at you ever since. Guilt and regret. You should never have given yourself to Eris fucking Vanserra.

You only felt safe enough to tune back in when Rhys turned his gaze on you. He gave a subtle dip of his chin, and you returned it — the signal the two of you shared when you’d gleaned useful information to tuck away.

Never mind the fact that you didn’t have a single clue what that information may be.

“Alright, then.” Rhys spoke tersely to the Autumn lord. “Keep me updated. I’ll be in touch when I next need to meet with you.”

“Will it be you, High Lord?” Eris’s lips turned up. He glanced at you. “Or her? I must say, I find her far more appealing to look at.”

“I’ll keep it a surprise. Something to look forward to in your sad little life.” Rhys turned to you, holding out a hand. “Ready?”

You shook your head. “You go. I promised Madja I’d collect some herbs for her while I’m here.”

A small, pathetic part of you wanted to beg Rhys to stay; to keep you company and not leave you alone with Eris. But he was a busy male — far too busy for the drama you’d created for yourself. You plastered a smile on your face.

“I’ll see you at home, then.” He smiled. And without a goodbye to your tentative ally, he disappeared before your eyes.

Eris smirked as he turned to you. “And then there were two.”

“Leave me alone.” You pulled your foraging knife out, turning on your feet. You didn’t look back as you began to kick through leaves and twigs.

But, of course, he was hot on your trail. “That’s not a very nice thing to say to somebody who made you cum not once, not twice, but three times.”

You clenched your jaw, ignoring him as you knelt down in front of a cluster of plants. You would do better this time. You wouldn’t allow your mouth to run you down a path you couldn’t come back from.

He didn’t make it easy, though. Not as you tried to focus yourself solely on gathering the herbs Madja had listed. Despite the lack of conversation — or even acknowledgement of him — Eris pressed himself against a tree and watched you, absentmindedly cleaning his nails with the point of a dagger.

How could you ever have fallen into bed with him? You were such a damn idiot, risking everything for a few fleeting moments of passion. You tucked the herbs neatly away, pushing to your feet and brushing dirt and leaves from your breeches. You turned—

And stopped as Eris appeared in front of you. He smirked. “I’m still waiting, Y/N.”

You cocked an eyebrow. “For what?”

“For you to thank me for not spilling your dirty little secret.”

Prick. You shoved past him, ignoring his warmth, his scent.

He was at your side in seconds. “Aren’t you so relieved that I didn’t slip up and tell Rhysand about your little ride? I still could.”

Every last drop of your sensibility fizzled out. You couldn’t stop yourself from rounding on him. “Are you truly in a position to be threatening me? Both of us fucked up that night. What do you think Beron would have to say if he found out you’d bedded someone from the Night Court, of all places?”

“My father doesn’t care who I bed. I’m free to do whatever I please, so long as it doesn’t distract me from the ultimate goal.”

“Which is what, exactly?”

His amber gaze glittered, catching the sun. “World domination.”

You rolled your eyes. “How very cliche.”

You made to push past him again, to get the fuck out of there, but his hand was suddenly gripping onto yours. In seconds, he had you pressed against the body of a tree.

You clenched your jaw. “Get. The hell. Away from—”

The remainder of the sentence didn’t have a chance to so much as form as Eris’s mouth found yours.

The press of his kiss was hot and needy, and as his lips moulded with yours, he groaned.

It was that action that made you realise just how little space existed between your bodies. His hips were pinned to yours, keeping you in place, and the warmth of him seeped into you as your breasts brushed his chest. Within seconds — mere seconds of him kissing you — you felt him harden in his breeches. His groan seemed to vibrate through every part of him and into you.

And then he was tearing his lips from yours. Staring down at you. “Fuck, you taste amazing. I’ve thought about nothing but this,” he rolled his hips against you, making sure your attention went exactly where he wanted it, “for over a month, now. Tell me you’ve been just as crazed.”

You had been. Perhaps more so. But you swallowed. “I can’t.”

That didn’t deter Eris from slanting his lips over yours again. His tongue swiped out, brushing against the seam of your lips, and you were powerless against your need as you opened your mouth and allowed him to dip in.

You gasped at the first taste of him; something cool and crisp and smoky. And you knew you were done fighting, telling yourself you didn’t want this, as you grabbed him by the lapels of his jacket and hauled him more firmly against you.

He grunted as the hard evidence of his arousal pressed against your stomach. His lips slid from yours, dragging slowly over your cheek, and then the cut of your jaw, down to your neck.

“You’ll be the death of me.” He panted, pressing quick, chaste kisses to the hollow of your throat. “Tell me to stop.”

You swallowed, knowing there was no chance in hell of that. “No.”

And that single word — as much as it pained you to say it — dragged such a delicious, guttural noise from him, that you forgot entirely about who you were and why this was wrong. Nothing else mattered in that moment other than what Eris was doing.

Your mouth went so very, very dry as he pulled away to meet your gaze. And then lowered himself to his knees before you.

He was utterly uncaring of the dirt and leaves that stuck to his breeches as he clasped your legs. And the hard press of his hands felt scorching through your own pants. You wouldn’t be surprised to find that he’d turned the clothing to mere ash he dragged his palms up the backs of your legs and cupped your ass.

“You’re fucking mouthwatering.” He dipped in, pressing a kiss to your stomach through your shirt. “I need to taste you.”

“Holy gods.” You cursed, your head falling back against the tree. “Do it, then.”

Like a male entirely starved and desperate, his nimble fingers moved to the buttons on your breeches, making quick work of getting them undone. The second they were loosened enough, he yanked them down with a feral command that had heat rushing between your legs.

And he could scent that. You knew it. He inhaled deeply, and his responding moan was sinful.

“This is wrong.” Your voice was weak, useless, as your head fell back.

“So wrong.” Eris hooked his fingers into the thin waistband of your undergarments. Tugged them down..

You made no move to stop him. “And stupid. And selfish. And—”

Your words turned into a moan as he dipped in and dragged his tongue up the very centre of you.

A satisfied grunt left him, and he lifted your leg, hoisting it over his shoulder. It had you at a better angle, closer to him, so he could feast on you.

And feast, he did.

His mouth and tongue were renowned for wielding wicked, barbed words, but this was a different language entirely. His fingers dug into your legs as he buried himself between your thighs, licking and lapping and fucking devouring. He made his way up, scraping teeth over your clit, the sensation both pleasant and unpleasant. Before you had a chance to react, he soothed over the area with the pad of his tongue, and a bolt of white-hot pleasure surged through you.

“Oh, gods.” Breathy words escaped your lips. Thank the Mother above for the mammoth tree at your back that gave you the support to move as you wished to move, undulating your hips, grinding against Eris’s face.

And from the way he growled and feasted on you harder, you knew he liked it. He was becoming coated in you, painting himself with your wetness. With the roll of your hips picking up pace, he didn’t falter once.

“Look at you.” He breathed, eyes flicking up to drink you in. “You’re a fucking vision.”

“Stop talking and make me—oh.”

Your hips bucked as he slid a finger into you, the friction of his callused skin like a sinful bite you wanted more of. You didn’t know if you vocalised that, or if Eris simply read you well, but he quickly added a second finger, pumping them in and out.

“Just as you felt around my cock that night.” He panted. “Squeezing me like that.”

You threaded your fingers through his hair, needing to just…to just grab onto something. He seemed to like it as you pulled, and he thrust his fingers faster in return.

“I’m going to make you come on my fingers.” His tongue stroked at you. “And again on my cock.”

Somewhere, some steeled part of you wanted to give a smartass retort. But you were far too gone, splintering into tiny shards of pleasure against that tree. There was nothing, in that moment, besides the sensations Eris Vanserra dragged from between your thighs. No long-lived feuds or tentative alliances or right or wrong.

It was just him. His fingers. His tongue.

And it sent you hurtling right off that blissful cliff edge into release.

As you came, you thought you maybe shouted loud enough to frighten the birds from the trees. Your pleasure was a fearsome force as it stormed your body, your mind, your soul, until you weren’t sure who you’d be without it. How you could survive not experiencing this weightlessness again.

And Eris…he seemed to enjoy your pleasure as much as you did. Even though his cock strained through his breeches, touched by nothing but torturous fabric, his tongue and fingers continued to guide you through your climax, and he peppered in filthy, scandalous words that you were far too fractured to make sense of.

Until he pulled back to look up at you again. “I’ve wanted you since the second I first saw you.” He said.

You weren’t sure you could deny, any longer, that this truly had been going on for that long. It didn’t start with that one night of bad decisions driving you into bed with him. It had been years and years of thinly-veiled threats and barbed words and insults and vitriol soaked in lust.

Every bit of hatred you’d ever directed at each other had been to try and avoid this — giving in to a carnal need that had existed between you since the first ever time your eyes had met.

You knew you didn’t have that strength, that resolve, anymore.

“I need you inside me.” Your voice was rough, raw. You reached down, shamelessly yanking Eris to his feet by the fabric of his jacket, not caring that your desperation showed. “Fuck me.”

You wanted it — him — hot and hard and fast and certainly not gentle. You wanted the bark of the tree biting into you as he pounded you from behind. You wanted him roaring as unguarded as you had.

“You’re a little brat.” Was all he responded. And then he was kissing you again.

You allowed him the control of your lips as your fingers tore at the front buttons on his breeches. Nothing was moving fast enough, and you were hot all over, desperate to feel him pulsing deep inside you—

Y/N. I need you back here.

Rhysand’s voice in your head was akin to be plunged in ice-cold water. Damn daemati. You froze in place, your hands falling still.

Eris didn’t seem to notice as he kissed his way along your jaw.

Y/N. Rhys spoke into your mind again. Get back as soon as you can. Need to discuss Azriel’s report.

You sucked in a breath, planting your hands on Eris’s arms. You pushed him off you. “I have to leave.”

He paused, surprise crossing his face. “What?”

“I can’t — I’m needed back home.” Clarity was dawning on you more and more, paired with guilt. You’d fucked up again. You tried to shake the feeling off as you yanked your underwear and breeches up in one go. “I can’t do this.”

“Seriously?” Eris cocked an eyebrow. “You’re leaving now?”

It was an effort not to glance down at the very unsatisfied bulge still pressing through his breeches. “Rhys just spoke into my thoughts. He needs me back.”

“How convenient.”

Of course he didn’t believe you. You had to admit, it didn’t look great — getting an earth-shattering orgasm out of him and then leaving.

But perhaps it was a blessing from the Mother. Perhaps she was stopping you taking it too far a second time.

“Believe what you want.” You pushed past Eris, buttoning your breeches up. “I answer to my High Lord first and foremost.”

“Go running back to him then.” Eris shrugged. And if you weren’t mistaken, you thought that a strange quality lay in his tone. Perhaps hurt, or…or jealousy. “He says jump and you say how high, right?”

“You have your High Lord, Eris,”  you smoothed over the wrinkles in your clothes, “and I have mine.”

He pressed his back against the tree, watching with an unreadable expression as you checked yourself over.

And then the corner of his mouth tipped up. “You’ll be back, sweetheart.”

You shot him a glance over your shoulder. “That is a very, very bad idea.”

You winnowed out of there before he could respond.

[vinvantae]

heyyy! sorry if this request is vague but i lack your creative genius so how about the grid x reader with forced proximity (like the two being in a situation where they have to be really close outside of their respective wishes not noncon!). if not all drivers, then maybe just Charles, Lewis and Fernando? thanks love!

I am sooooooo sorry this took so long 😭 I’ve been mega busy lately and haven’t had the time to really sit down and write. Hope you enjoy regardless x

Lewis

“There’s no way this is actually happening right now.”

You stared down at the door handle that was currently laying in your palm, no longer attached to the door. Lewis quirked a brow and plucked it from your hand, turning it over in his a few times.

“I did tell them it was coming loose, didn’t realise it was this close to falling off.” He chuckled softly. “Cosy in here isn’t it?”

The room itself wasn’t that small, but now you had no escape - the walls suddenly felt like they were pressing against you. “Why do we even have this room?”

“I think Bono called it a panic room… apparently, just our luck, it’s also soundproof.”

You groaned and flopped onto the small loveseat that was tucked against the wall - letting your eyes cast around the room. “Have you-“

“Text someone? Yeah. They’re trying to find a way in.” His voice was soft as he sat beside you, a strong hand coming to rest on your knee - the heat immoderately rushing to your cheeks.

You’d had a massive crush on Lewis since the day you’d met - but he was levels and levels above you at Mercedes. You were but a simple social media admin, something he personally opted to not take part in very often so your paths didn’t cross often and when they did you found yourself feeling like a giggly teenager.

You could almost hear the cogs turning in his head as he studied you, a gentle sigh leaving his lips.

“…hey uh, feel free to report me to HR if this crosses some major boundary but I never really get to speak to you alone.” He was fully facing you now, his hand still pressed against your knee - thumb brushing across the black fabric of your work trousers. “You fancy getting dinner sometime or something? I’ve seen you around a lot and I just… I honestly can’t get you out of my head.”

“M-Me? Seriously?” You laughed, practically flooded with disbelief. “You’re Lewis Hamilton.”

He smirked. “Yeah, and you’re you… I’d really like to get to know you outside of this world, no Mercedes branding attached. I already like what I do know, I’d like to see more.”

Your eyes flickered across his face for a moment, trying to read him - and he seemed nothing but genuine. You gave him a cautious nod and his face lit up, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to your cheek.

“We’re going to have a blast, trust me.” His grin lit up the room.

Before you could speak again there was a frantic knock on the door. “We’re about to take the hinges off! Stand back please!”

“All clear.” Lewis called back, before giving your hand a squeeze. “Ready to get back out there?”

You looked down at your entwined hands and smiled softly. “As I’ll ever be.”

Charles

Their music was quiet now, just softly playing in the background as Kika giggled - her boyfriend twirling her into his arms, a loving smile on his face. When she had insisted on hosting his birthday party at your shared apartment, you forgot to consider who one of Pierre’s best friends was, a man you loathed. And now, as the night rolled on and all of the other guests had filtered out - it was just the four of you left and whilst Pierre and Kika were still enjoying their tipsy states, you and Charles were as stiff as boards, sat as far apart from each other as possible.

Your eyes followed Kika as she stepped away from Pierre, circling the coffee table to approach you, manicured hands landing on your shoulders as she looked into your eyes. “We’re going to bed… you gonna be alright?”

“Yeah, yeah.” You forced a smile, one she was too inebriated to decipher. “I’m not tired, I’ll tidy up a bit.”

“Oh ‘miga. Don’t stay up too late.” She pressed a sloppy kiss to your temple before leading Pierre away, practically purring.

You rolled your eyes, still not giving the man beside you any attention as you stood up - collecting some cups from the table but as he started clearing the coffee table beside you, you couldn’t help but frown.

“You can go home, Charles.” You grumbled. “You don’t live here, y’know. It’s my mess to clear up.”

“Did Pierre not tell you?” He patted the back of the sofa. “This bad boy is my bed tonight.”

“…he did not. Well, I don’t want to keep you up, so I’ll clean tomorrow or something.”

He practically snorted out a laugh. “I don’t want to sleep in this mess either so, let’s just make it quick yeah?”

The two of you moved around each other quietly - you’d met through your best friends and very quickly decided that you didn’t get on. He was pretty and he knew it - he always had some stunning girl draped over his arm; at first you were just annoyed, just as you got to know her, like her even, he’d bin her off for a new model. He just didn’t know the meaning of the word loyalty.

“You uh, still with… uh Colette was it?”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “She wanted something more serious, so no,”

Charles watched you roll your eyes as you shoved a paper cup into the bin bag in your hand.

“What’s it to you anyway? Jealous?” He smirked, throwing a balled up napkin in your direction.

“No. I just don’t understand why you hate commitment so much.” You scoffed. “You always find the loveliest girls and then-“

“I don’t hate commitment. I’ve just not found a girl who challenges me.” His voice was quieter with his admission. “They all will literally just agree with everything and anything I say just because they’re desperate to keep me happy… that’s just not… I don’t want that.”

The silence was heavy but you didn’t dare move, especially as he walked around the coffee table towards you - bin bags long forgotten as he gently took your biceps in his hands.

“I… I know you don’t like me… I don’t blame you.” He sighed softly, letting his hands slowly cascade down your arms until his hands finally found yours, his lips curving into a shy smile when you didn’t pull away. “But I like the way you call me out on my shit, and you make me want to be better.”

“Charles…” You felt breathless. “I don’t want to be the reason you treat women right, you should do that because it’s the right thing to do.”

“You’re right, you’re right.” A soft huff escaped him. “Can we at least maybe start over? Friends?”

Your eyes studied his face - almost as if you were seeing him for the very first time. The way his green eyes still seemed bright under the dim lights of the floor lamps, the way his lips were such a pretty shade of pink… shit.

“Depends… would friends do this?”

Charles stumbled back a little as you kissed him, hands quickly finding purchase on your hips. He groaned as you looped your arms around his neck, pulling him in closer.

Oh he was fucked.

Fernando

You don’t think you could be pressed any further against the side of the van if you tried - Fernando’s manspreading had made sure of that. The two of you had somehow ended up in the back together, the third seat home to camera equipment as per the team’s request. It was supposed to be a quick trip, 20 minutes tops, but the roads were completely gridlocked so you found yourself stuck in the Spaniard’s company for a lot longer than you’d planned.

“Oh my god, Fernando.” You hissed, yanking the hem of your jacket out from under his thigh as he shifted. “Do you want to take up any more of my seat?”

The corner of his mouth tugged up into a small smirk. “Sorry.”

You rolled your eyes. “No you’re not.”

“You’re right, I’m not.”

A soft huff left your lips, turning away from him to look out the window - noticing the view hadn’t shifted even a little since you last checked. You groaned. “Have we moved at all?”

“Sorry! It’s completely at a standstill, looks like it’s going to be a while!” The driver called back from the front, sending you an apologetic gaze through the rear view mirror.

Fernando couldn’t help but notice your demeanour shift, fully slumped in your seat at this point - a petulant frown on your face. He always thought you were pretty, but you seemed to have a vendetta against him since day one despite his best intentions. And after a while he just gave him, treating you with the same sass you threw at him.

“Do you want to lighten up a touch, cariño” He teased, leaning a little so he could catch your eye. “This car ride is already going to be bad enough without your attitude.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re not exactly my favourite person to be around.”

“And why is that? Hmm?” His voice was patronising, condescending almost, and it made you want to smack him upside the head - but you’d definitely get fired. “Did I forget your birthday or something?”

He was surprised by the dejected sigh that left your lips, your eyes almost wet when you looked up at him. “…You’ve just always made me feel like a dumb kid. I know how to do my job. I’m smart, I’m capable. I’m not even that young! But god forbid I do anything myself. Let me move that for you. I’ve got that. Oh no, I’ll do it myself.”

“You think I did all that because I thought you were incapable?” He had to hold back the laugh of disbelief. “Cariño , that was just me being a gentleman… I was trying to be courteous, to impress you.”

Your cheeks heated. “Impress me?”

“Well, yeah.” This time he laughed softly. “You said it yourself, you’re smart, you’re capable… and, forgive me, you’re very beautiful. I never meant to cause upset or make you think I thought little of you.”

You felt beyond embarrassed - this whole time he was just being nice and you had automatically assumed he was looking down on you.

“…want to start over?” Your voice timid, unable to ignore the way your heart was pounding in your chest.

“I’d like that.” He held his hand out. “Hi, I’m Fernando.”

It was your turn to laugh as you took his hand in yours, his skin warm against yours as you gave it a firm shake - introducing yourself to him. His gaze was different as he looked at you now, his dark eyes no longer full of distaste but something new.

And you couldn’t wait to find out what it was.

[sixosix]

hello!! this is my first time asking so forgive me if i do anything wrong.

so i just saw your event anddddd first of all, i just want to say congrats on 5k!!! and also happy birthdayy!! if its not a bother, can i participate in the event?? if so heres the prompt,

[lyney, earphones(the wired ones), fluff]

your thawed series really made me fall in love with the way you write lyney😭 and because of that, i want to read more of him from you!!

once again, congrats on 5k!!

a/n HELLO ANON!!! thank you so much + dont worry u sent an ask right! im so happy u like my characterization of lyney hehe hes just a silly guy…

info 500 words, short and sweet, modern college au

5K EVENT SPECIAL | EVENT MASTERLIST

Lynette texted you this morning saying that she had a fever.

Usually, this wouldn’t have been a problem. Get well soon! or an I’ll send you the notes later would be the end of the conversation. Then you’d go on with your day and miss her, but that would be it. That was supposed to be it.

But it was Lynette. And if she was involved—

“Hey.” Lilac eyes overtook your vision, shockingly close. You jumped back, and Lyney grinned. “Are you still texting my sister? I’m right here, you know.”

Lynette You’ll be fine

You LYHBEDTTE

Lynette He’s just Lyney

You EXACTLY WHY

This was a problem because you had been nursing the biggest crush on Lynette’s brother since you met her—and it’s been years. The color of his eyes, the softness of his hair, the crinkle of his eyes as he smiles—

“I’m telling her I wish she were here instead,” you said, hiding your screen from his sharp eyes.

Lyney wasn’t fazed at all. He matched your steps and easily walked alongside you, his lips stretched into a wide grin. He was so suspiciously happy today.

“Are we going to take the bus there?” Lyney asked, his arms still brushing against yours. His chin was tucked in his windbreaker, muffling his words a little. He looked a little red—did he have a fever as well?

“I guess so,” you said, dragging your gaze away from the sight. You could hear your heartbeat racing.

Lyney’s smile softened, then gestured at the bus stop bench. “It’s still early. Let’s sit over there.”

It was empty, yet when you sat at the far edge, Lyney still cozied up beside you. Seeking refuge, you hid your face further in the safety of your hoodie. This was bad. Lynette rarely got sick; this was your first time alone with Lyney, and you didn’t know how to act.

When you glanced at him, Lyney seemed content with the silence. You weren’t—you could hear the loud thumps of your chest, and soon enough, Lyney would notice it, too.

You pulled out your earphones and swiped to the highest volume possible, ear damage be damned. You were not going to survive today. You’re going to embarrass yourself and make a fool of your impressions, and Lyney would get weirded out and avoid you for the rest of his life.

Your throat made some sort of warbling deflated noise as music drowned out your heartbeat, but not your thoughts. Why was Lyney so warm? Even with layers of clothing, you could feel the heat of his skin, and it was driving you mad. You wanted nothing but to curl into it like a cat with sunlight. Why did Lynette have to get sick while you were still hopelessly infatuated with her brother?

Abruptly, Lyney’s head found its way to your shoulder. Stunned, you sucked in a breath, overwhelmed with all the sensations. Your five senses were being violated left and right—all you could see, hear, and touch was Lyney.

He reached his hand out expectantly. You made a noise of confusion, then belatedly realized what he was pointing at. Careful not to jostle him, you plucked an earphone and gently placed it in his ear. Lyney flinched.

“This is loud,” Lyney chuckled, but he didn’t ask you to mess with the volume. He laid back down with his weight and stayed there, unaware of how your face was a flaming mess.

Your eyes slipped to your lap, feeling shy. From this angle, it was hard to tell what Lyney was looking at, but you could feel his smile. It could be Lyney’s unnaturally warm body heat or your burning embarrassment, but— maybe you were starting to feel feverish as well.

Lyney snuggled closer. You sighed and resigned yourself to a long day.

[warmblanketwhump]

recovering A is sitting outside with caretaker B. it’s a pleasant day, with mild weather and sunshine, and B figures that even though A’s still fairly weak, the fresh air will do them good. and for a while, it does seem to lift their spirits and bring a bit of color back in their pale cheeks.

A enjoys being outdoors at first, but despite their sweater and the heat of the afternoon sun, they’re barely warm at all.

suddenly, the sun darts behind a cloud, and A shudders.

“feeling alright?” B asks, brow furrowing.

“I’m okay.” A wraps their arms around themselves, trying to ignore the goosebumps that prickle down their spine, and wishes they’d brought out a blanket to tuck around them. I thought the sweater was enough, it’s not even that cold.

the sun returns a few minutes later, but it’s too late—A feels their frail body start to tremble, overcompensating for the slight change in temperature.

“A, you’re shivering.”

“Just got a chill, that’s all.” A hates the way their voice wavers, the way they can barely force the words out through their chattering teeth, the way their bones are suddenly, impossibly freezing, like someone dumped a bucket of ice water over their head.

B jumps up from their chair and instantly comes to A’s side, cursing softly. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have brought you out—“

“It’s fine, B. I wanted to come outside for a change.” Still, B helps them up and guides them inside to their chair, then covers their shivering frame with one blanket, then two, and begins to build up the fire in the small cabin.

“I’ll make you some tea, too, try and warm you up from the inside…” B’s voice trails off as they rustle around in the kitchen.

But A knows it’s no use from experience: they won’t truly stop feeling chilled until their hot bath tonight. And I can’t take my bath too early or else I’ll inevitably get cold some other stupid way, and I’m not making B run me two baths.

Recovering has been slow and frustrating, this part most of all. Why can’t their body maintain their temperature like it used to? Why are they so damn cold all the time?

They don’t realize they’re crying until they feel wipe away the twin tears on their cheeks, and they see B crouching to eye level. The concern on B’s face only makes A cry harder—they don’t want to be this weak, they didn’t used to be this way, they just want things to be better…

And they must say all that out loud, because now B’s arms are around them. “I know. I know it’s hard. We’ll get through this, A.”

There will be more blankets, and hot tea, and against A’s efforts, two baths. But in that moment, A’s never been more grateful for the warmth of B’s arms.

I will get through this.

[underdark-dreams]

Rolan putting Tav in their place? But like….in a frisky way 👀🔥

Rolan x fem!Tav

Master

"Sit still and behave." She's feeling impatient for some attention from the Master of Ramazith's Tower. She decides he needs to let off some steam; Rolan decides to teach her some proper respect.

Tags: Obedience, Praise Kink, Soft Dom, Explicit Sexual Content | Word Count: 3,875 [Read on AO3]

“Did they even do the readings? Half of these are wrong…I’ll have to regive all the illusory lectures…”

Rolan’s brow furrowed deeper as he read down the page. Frustration practically radiated from the way he hunched over his desk, and she wished for the umpteenth time that he would just take a break.

“I’m sure they’ll get it with time,” she told him, gently rubbing his shoulders.

Inwardly, she found it difficult to feel concerned about his students’ grades at the moment. She was far too busy admiring how good Rolan looked when he was a bit disheveled. 

It was a rare sight; he preferred to keep his appearance clean and tidy at all times, his robes neatly pressed and hair half-pulled back to keep it out of his eyes. 

Right now, this was about as unkempt as she’d ever seen Rolan outside their bedroom. His hair was loose from its tie. As he worked, one lock swung forward between his horns, and he impatiently swept it away with the feather of his quill. He had pushed the sleeves of his underrobe up to his elbows. She watched the sinews of his forearm flex under his crimson skin as he scrawled a severe note on his student's parchment.

She knew his state was a testament to the stress he’d been under lately. Beyond her love for the petulant wizard seated in front of her, she didn’t have much personal experience with wizardry. But Rolan had said enough to impress upon her how important these upcoming exams were for his young pupils. For the oldest of them, their results could mean the difference between continuing their studies or finding another vocation. Rolan took the task of preparing them quite seriously. 

Perhaps too seriously, she thought to herself, watching the muscle of his jaw flex with concentration. The candles standing beside his desk were burned down to dripping puddles of wax.

He needed a good distraction, and that she could help with. She crossed forearms along the back of his chair and perched her chin on his shoulder.

“Come to bed?” She asked him. “You’ve been grading for hours.”

Rolan hardly seemed to hear her. "In a moment," he murmured.

It wasn't his usual response to a proposition. Teasing or enthusiasm she was used to, but flat out disinterest was new. It stung a little more than it had a right to.

She knew she should respect his work at hand. If he didn't look so downright frazzled, she might have.

Instead, she gave into the temptation to take advantage of his concentration. She slid one arm down around Rolan's shoulders and leaned in to tuck the curtain of his hair back behind one long red ear.

Then she kissed along the line of it from lobe to pointed tip. She'd always been fond of Rolan's Infernal gifts, particularly his sharply tapered ears—even more so as one of the few people allowed to appreciate them. His usual style kept them tucked and hidden behind his hair.

Rolan sighed slowly as her lips made their soft journey, just enough to satisfy her that she was getting to him. She knew she was being a nuisance, but it had been days since she had him to herself. Rolan was passionate about his work—she couldn’t help selfishly wanting a little of it for herself tonight.

“You’ve been sleeping at your desk too much lately,” she murmured against the shell of his ear. 

“Can’t be helped,” Rolan replied, although the fingers of his free hand raised to the arm she had curled over his collar. “These exams are the most consequential step in an apprenticeship. I’d be a worthless archmage if I let my students arrive at Blackstaff unprepared.”

“Rolan, there’s no way that would happen.” She broke away slightly to look at the thick stack of assignments he was grading. “Don’t you think…maybe you’re overworking them? You’re definitely overworking yourself.” 

“I’m fine,” Rolan said a bit sharply, turning to the next student’s parchment. “I can certainly handle a little paperwork.” 

She pouted slightly at the back of his head, then leaned in to place a kiss under his ear. “That’s not what I meant.”

Rolan let out a short huff as he set down his quill. Feeling a bit smug with herself, she let his grip over her arm draw her around beside him, quite unsuspecting.

Before she could tense her relaxed muscles, Rolan’s grip jerked her down. One of her hands flew to grab the far edge of the wooden seat, but she still landed hard on his lap, her back thumping against his chest.

“After all our time together, I’d expect you to understand the duties of an archwizard,” Rolan scolded her. His voice reverberated against her back as he tucked her slightly to one of his legs so he could keep working. Then his fingers plucked up his quill, even as his other forearm wrapped tighter below her navel to keep her firmly planted. 

After a week starved from his attention, the humbling position made her face grow warm. "Rolan, I do understand. I just think y—"

“Good,” Rolan cut her off. “Then sit still and behave.” He was ordering her in the same tone she sometimes heard him use with his apprentices—as if she was nothing but another naughty pupil.

She bit her lip. That could work. Oh, could it ever. “All right.”

After that, they both sat in silence. The steady scratch of quill tip against parchment was the only sound drifting through the candlelight. She kept herself perched quietly on Rolan’s thighs, watching the neat movements of his writing hand, feeling the steady beat of his heart between her shoulder blades. Of all the positions she hoped to find herself in tonight, fully clothed and trapped on his lap wasn't one of them.

But she could certainly work with it. 

Carefully, as if just adjusting to a more comfortable position, she wiggled her hips up higher against his lap. She felt the muscle in Rolan’s forearm clench slightly over her, but he said nothing as he turned to another page.

Testing his patience, she scooted back toward him again. This time she pressed her palms against his thighs for balance, letting her hips bounce slightly down against him. The game was rapidly becoming unsubtle.

It wasn’t lost on her wizard. “That won't get you anything,” Rolan warned her.

But despite his words, she could already feel him stirring underneath her. Lovely heat coiled in her stomach in response. “Will from where I’m sitting,” she answered back saucily.

“Hmm.” His monotone hum reverberated against her back, but Rolan didn’t look up from the note he was scribbling. However disappointing his verbal responses, Rolan’s body gave him away the same way it always did. 

It only made her braver. She leaned forward on an elbow as if to read his work. In the same motion, she nudged her hips back to press herself more firmly against the growing hardness under his robes, dragging her center across his clothed thigh at the same time. She’d prefer to make use of the lovely ridges near his knee, but that would have to wait for another night.

“Take off your clothes.”

She blinked at him over her shoulder. “What?” Surely she had misheard—Rolan’s expression was impassive, eyes still on the pages scattered over his desk.

“Take off your clothes,” he calmly repeated, still not looking at her. “Now.”

If he was calling her bluff, he wouldn’t get the satisfaction. Slowly, she leaned back against his chest. She would go along with whatever game he wanted to play. 

She began with her bodice. Her fingers ran down the lacings, plucking them open like harp strings, feeling the heat already starting to pool between her thighs in anticipation. With her head leaned back over Rolan’s shoulder, she could feel the steady tickle of his breath down her collar and chest, though he was still steadfastly marking the parchment before him. 

Rolan was studiously ignoring her, even as she undressed. It was new, and it made something shy and uncertain coil in her chest. When they were together normally he liked to be the one removing her clothes. He practically insisted on it. 

But tonight he made no move, apparently content to let her take as much or as little time as she liked.

She favored the latter. With that thought in mind, she pressed herself forward to shuck the unlaced bodice back over her shoulders. Rolan’s arm over her loosened to allow her undershirt to follow. When both garments were discarded on the floor beside his chair, she leaned back against him, bare above the waist. She couldn’t help arching her chest up a little as Rolan’s loose hair tickled against her neck.

"Everything," Rolan directed her. His arm remained draped unmoving over her belly. He either didn't notice her body language or was choosing to ignore the invitation to grope her. 

It made her feel even needier for him. Perhaps that's why she wiggled out of her pants and smallclothes so eagerly, nearly tipping sideways off Rolan’s clothed lap in the process. His palm splayed up against her sternum to catch her, and the sharp nail of his thumb pressed into one of her breasts. A small gasp escaped her.

Rolan made a noise low in his throat, and when his hand raised from her chest toward her chin, she understood his intention with eagerness. 

She parted her lips to take two of his long, slender fingers into her mouth, licking and swirling her tongue to wet them completely. Her cheeks hollowed as she sucked his digits in deeper over her tongue. Rolan needed reminding of what her mouth could do, and she was pleased to feel his length twitch under her in response. She hummed in satisfaction over his fingers.

Rolan pulled them from her mouth then, and she felt a string of saliva stretch and land across her chin. Before she could wipe it away, two slickened fingertips nudged at the hot apex of her thighs.

She let out a needy groan as her head tipped back over Rolan’s shoulder; her warm cheek pressed against his. She let her thighs fall open for him. But Rolan only continued to make soft and idle circles over her folds, dragging the wetness that was already pooling there up around her entrance, not quite hitting the aching spot above. Her hips rolled forward greedily toward his palm.

“I told you, sit still.” How could he possibly have the nerve to keep writing at a moment like this? She did her best to obey his command, but the way Rolan’s breath had quickened behind her made it difficult.

“Rolan…” His name left her in another groan, this time almost begging. She arched her back to curl an arm around behind him. Her fingers found the curve of one of his horns, and her grip tugged up and down the hard ridged length of it—wishing it was the hard ridged length nudging up against her backside.

In one movement, Rolan’s writing hand swept up the stack of papers from the desk in front of them and deposited them on the floor. 

His grip on her arms was rougher than she was used to as he jerked their connected bodies upright, but it was somehow exactly what she craved. She heard his chair clatter to the floor behind them—her hands flew to the now-empty desk for balance as she landed on her feet.

“I’m a very busy man, you know,” Rolan hissed into her ear; he kept her facing away with nails dimpling against the flesh of her hips. “I don't have time for these games.”

“Sorry,” she lied, breathless. “Let me make it up to you?” She reached eagerly back for him, wanting to pull him closer by his robes, before something drew her palms together behind her back.

Rolan’s tail coiled around her wrists in a makeshift binding. Its soft ridges rubbed over her skin, the sudden friction causing her to freeze in place.

"You can tell me to stop.” 

Rolan’s voice was suddenly low, and she glanced back over her shoulder to his face. His eyes burned molten gold, but she caught hesitation beneath and realized what he was looking for. She nodded her head yes.

Then the palm of Rolan’s hand settled between her shoulder blades, and steadily, he pushed down.

Her body bent at the waist over the hard surface, goosebumps tickling her skin where her bare chest met the cool wood. She shivered from the cold, and more so from the delicious uncertainty of whatever he was planning to do with her. The firm coil of Rolan’s tail trailed from her wrists across the bare skin of her back.

"Do you know how infuriating you can be?" Rolan's voice chided behind her, even as his hands on her ass massaged and spread her apart for him. "I have a great deal of work to do, yet you insist on interrupting."

"Why don't you give me something to shut me up, then?" She did her best to tease back, but she could only imagine the view Rolan had of her slick folds as his hands pulled to expose her. She ached for his fingers and mouth and cock—for any part of him to touch her again and provide release.

"Always so greedy for my attention," Rolan said, as if he could read her thoughts. "High time you learned a little discipline."

The warmth of one hand left her. Then, without warning, his palm reconnected with a stinging slap against her ass. The shock lurched her body forward, grinding the ache between her legs against the hard edge of his desk. A shameless mewl escaped her throat.

“Hush,” Rolan tutted softly from behind. “I run a reputable business here, you know. Unless you want everyone below to learn what a state you’re in?”

“Oh yes—” From her prone position, she still tried to crane her neck back at him. “I’m sure your patrons would love to know that the new mage of Ramazith’s Tower is a perverted little—”

His palm smacked against her a second and third time, once on either side, the lewd sounds echoing all around the cavernous room and causing her words to stutter into an incoherent moan. She just barely bit it back this time. 

“Good girl,” Rolan hummed in approval, and she couldn’t ignore the way her insides quivered from the praise. He smoothed both hands over the heated skin on her flanks as if rewarding her obedience. “Now spread for me.”

Incredible how four little words could make her throb and drip for him. It was vulgar and irresistible, and she obeyed wordlessly, shifting her bare feet further apart to expose herself more fully to him. The rush of cool air between her legs was almost too much to bear. 

There was the soft rustle of movement behind her—she could practically feel Rolan’s body heat moving closer. In the next moment the length underneath his robes pressed firmly in between her legs. 

She dug teeth into her lower lip to restrain another wanton groan. He was so hard already—was it all from this little game? Sweet hells, if only she'd tried his patience like this before. She couldn’t spare a thought to wonder, could only fixate on the anticipation of Rolan filling her. Her cunt throbbed against the fabric between them at the thought.

She heard Rolan inhale through his teeth. "So desperate even now. Gods, you're shameless." But his hands traveled up the arch of her back, his softly filed nails whispering against the skin under her bound arms from her ass to her shoulder blades, as if relishing the position he had her in.

Then his grip cupped down over each of her hip bones, and he ground her back against his hardness.

The gesture dragged the bare front of her against the cool wood surface, and a shuddering exhale fell from her lips. “Fuck, Rolan—”

“Is this not what you wanted?” Rolan asked her, calling down patience from gods knew where. “Tell me, then.”

"I want you to fuck me,” she gasped out, ready to be done with the teasing. The words formed a heated fog across the wood surface underneath her.

"Ask nicely, then." One of Rolan’s thumbs pulled at her flesh, no doubt giving himself another view of her wet slit, teasing her open again without touching her where she needed it most.

“Please—” Maybe she'd never been more desperate for him; or maybe she'd always known he would love it. "Master Rolan, please fuck me—"

Rolan's hands were gone from her in a flash, and she heard and felt them working on the laces of his pants.

She’d never been more ready for him. Shamefully eager, she craned her head as best she could from her bent and bound position to watch him reach through the slits in his robe to unfasten his pants. Then his beautiful red cock sprang free from the fabric, deliciously hard and lined with those angled, concentric ridges that she knew could make her see stars. Her mouth watered at the sight of him. 

She must look positively desperate for it, because Rolan was watching her face with a dark glint of approval in his eyes. As he did, one of his elegant hands closed around his cock and pumped lazily. She squirmed with impatience.

"Say it again." Rolan's dark-set eyes watched her with something like anticipation, his baritone husky with desire.

Her mind was so addled from the delicious sight of him stroking himself that it took a moment to grasp what he was requesting.

"You like that?" She asked suddenly, licking her lips. "When I call you Master?”

Rolan's hips bucked forward into his own grip, almost involuntary. Despite her position naked and prone on his desk, she felt a kind of power tip back into her hands.

“Because that's what you are, Rolan…” She looked back at him from under her lashes, wanting to see what the words might do to him. “Master of this tower, Master of the Weave—Master of me—”

Rolan's face was flushing burgundy, his eyes smoldering into her as if hanging on every word. His tail unwound from her wrists to shudder and flick behind him in a motion she’d grown to recognize as pure desire.

“Just look at what you do to me,” she breathed. Wetness leaked down her inner thighs as she spoke. “No one else fucks me like you. You're so good—so powerful—fuck, just please Rolan, I need you—”

With a guttural sound, Rolan pressed and sheathed himself in her completely.

The abrupt stretch between her legs made her cry out and clutch at the far edge of his desk. Rolan hadn't readied her with his fingers the way he usually did—very little about tonight was usual. His ridges were hot and tight against her walls, but the ache was exactly what she craved.

Before she had fully adjusted, Rolan pulled out from her almost completely, and then his hips snapped back into her a second and third time. The pressure almost made her sob in relief.

Rolan’s hands landed on either side of hers, sharp nails digging into the wood underneath them as his body pressed down over her. He was truly, finally fucking her; she felt the silk of his robes drag against her overheated skin with each thrust, and then the shift of his body hit a new angle inside her. 

His tip abruptly met with that deep and sensitive spot, pounding into the aching nerves there again and again. Her eyes rolled back with an unrestrained moan.

"Again," he panted, his face close behind her ear. The control in his voice was fading with each jerk of his hips.

Her skin was on fire; all she could concentrate on was the ridged length of him rapidly filling and stretching her, each quick thrust grinding and rocking her clit against the smooth wood under their bodies.

"Master Rolan, plea-se—" The last word was jerked in two by the force of him fucking her into his desk—"just like this, fuck, I’ve wanted this for weeks—you’re so—so fucking good—”

The words were babbling incoherently from her, but they seemed to be what he needed. Rolan let out a broken groan into the skin of her back as he twitched and spilled inside her. But he didn’t slow his rhythm. Instead his hands gripped either side of her hips, sharp nails digging into her skin, fucking his spend deep into her with driving force. 

It was possessive and raw and hot and the feeling made her own orgasm crash down around her, her walls spasming and clutching around him as if to keep him there. She felt the gush of heat from her center leaking out all around him and spilling down her legs.

Her arms and legs trembled weakly; she was grateful for the support of Rolan’s desk holding her up, hard and cold though it was. She gathered enough strength to glance back at him as he straightened and pulled out of her, just in time to catch Rolan admiring the way his come dripped from her opening.

“I love you,” she panted up at him. “That was…gods, Rolan.”

He looked just as dazed as she felt as he stood with hands still resting on her hips for balance. But Rolan said nothing in response, only drew one of her limp hands from the desk up to his lips. Then he shook his shoulders slightly as if to rouse his senses, tucking himself back into his pants.

Dipping a hand to the floor, Rolan thrust a bundle of her clothes unceremoniously toward her. “Clean yourself up. I have more work to do.” 

She would have laughed if she wasn’t so spent. He was being intentionally brusque; perhaps embarrassed by how far he’d let himself go. The lingering flush on his cheeks and the way his outstretched arm shook both undercut the attempt slightly. 

She straightened up on wobbling legs to pluck the clothes from him. Despite his rudeness, she felt satisfied with the knowledge that the heavy smell of sex and the image of her spread open for him on that very desk would make concentrating on his menial paperwork a near-impossible task.

Before he’d let go of her wrinkled garments, she pulled him by them into a quick kiss. “Come to bed soon,” she told him firmly. “Or else I’ll come back and carry you there.” 

Rolan exhaled through his nose, the bare hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “Give me an hour.”

An unthinkable wait after the lay he’d just given her. But she made no complaints as she turned—it wouldn’t do to let him have too much power.

“Fine,” she called over her shoulder. She put a little sway in her hips as she sauntered toward the bedroom staircase, strongly suspecting that his eyes were following her. “But this time, Master Rolan, I’m getting you naked.”

[whore-era]

affinity - part 1

ellie williams x fem!reader

themes: angst, pining, best friends, unrequited love

summary: after being in love with your best friend for years, one drunken night changes everything.

a/n: this was torture to write. apologies in advanced.

word count: 3,689

1/3

“god, i’d give up my left leg to eat right now. i’m starving.” you groan out, the rumbling in your stomach erupting on cue. 

ellie lets out a laugh, “you finished your sandwich already?” she packs her backpack with perishable canned foods, flinging it over her shoulder. 

“hey, i didn’t have breakfast before i left this morning,” you defend, your eyes scanning the empty shelves of the abandoned food mart. not much, as usual. “the sandwich was tempting me.”

your best friend shakes her head, “what do i always tell you? ya gotta eat, you stubborn girl. we’re out here— running and fighting for our lives—6 to 8 hours everyday.” 

“sorry, mother, won’t do it again,” you stick your tongue out to her, earning a glare from the green-eyed girl.

“c’mon, let’s get outta here and call it a day.” she says opening the front door, waiting for you. you nod and tuck the gun in the waistband of your jeans, walking towards the entrance. your untied shoelaces cause you to trip over your own feet, and you prepare yourself to face-pan on the floor, looking like a complete fool. but the moment never comes, as you feel strong arms catch you mid-fall. 

you look up, making eye contact with those jade-green orbs you fell in love with all those years ago. she looks back at you, searching your face for any sign of injury. clearing your throat, you get back on your feet, trying to ignore the butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

“sorry. you know me, such a clutz,” you sputter out nervously, laughing to ease the tension as you both walk toward the two horses. “nah, no worries. but i do think you purposely leave your shoes untied just so i can catch you.” 

“you wish, williams.” you retort, a false sense of confidence in your tone. hoisting yourself up on your horse, sunshine, you tug on the leads to begin the journey back to town. 

ellie appears next to you, shimmer strolling alongside sunshine, looking breathtaking in the setting sun of wyoming. your heart flutters, and for a brief second, you think you’re having a heart attack. you would think after being best friends with ellie williams for five years that you would get used to seeing her face everyday, but that wasn’t the case for you at all.

it began slow, when you noticed the way your heart would pick up when she smiled at you or when you found yourself thinking of dumb puns just so you could hear her laugh. but you knew it was over for you when you found it hard to breathe after she accidentally kissed you after having one too many beers that she sacked from joel when you were both 15. it led you right to this moment, with a 5-year long crush and unrequited feelings for your oblivious best friend. 

i mean, who could blame you? ellie williams was to die for. she was strong, brave, outgoing, charming, witty, protective, intelligent, and — well, it’d take you forever to list off everything amazing about her. there was about a handful of girls in town that feel the same way you do about ellie, and you were just lucky to bear witness to the numerous flings that ellie had with them, sarcasm included. fortunately for you, they never usually ended up in anything serious, as ellie was never really interested in being anything more than ‘special friends’, if you could catch her drift.

as for you, you never really attempted to look for anything with anyone else. anyone who showed any interest in you, which was not many people, faced rejection. it was sad enough to admit, but you were okay just being ellie’s best friend, even if it meant seeing her with other girls.

“i’m serious,” ellie chuckles, “you’re always eating shit and falling over, dude.” she shakes her head, “how did maria even approve you for patrol?” 

“hey! i’ll have you know that she’s very impressed with my artillery skills,” you retort, earning an eye roll from your best friend.

“whatever, man, whatever helps you sleep at night,” she laughs, “speaking of maria, heard she’s having that party tonight?” 

you hum in agreeance, admiring the setting sun glowing lavender and magenta on the white snow. “you gonna go?”

“hmm, maybe. dina and i were thinking about making an appearance— to gossip and drink, that typ’a stuff,” you respond, looking over at the auburn-haired girl. ellie was silent for a moment, seeming deep in thought. 

“i think i’m gonna go with cat.” 

your heart fell to your stomach. cat was ellie’s latest fling. they’ve been talking and messing around for almost a month, and by now, ellie would’ve quit whatever situation she had going on with her, but she didn’t. 

“oh. really?”

“yeah. i like being around her, she’s cool and funny and gorgeous and she listens to cool music and— and i think you’d really like her, you both would get along.” ellie dotes, eyes all sparkly. yeah, i’d highly doubt we’d get along, but i’d certainly try for you though, els. you blink back tears, wiping your eyes with the back of your sleeve, pretending to brush dirt off your face. 

this was the only thing you despised about being her best friend. she confided in you for everything, especially about the girls she was with. your heart cracked a bit everytime, which always ended up with you laying in bed at four in the morning, crying because of the girl you loved, but couldn’t have. 

you stayed silent, too silent. your brain worked quickly to think of something to say before ellie suspected anything out of the ordinary. 

“i bet.” you murmured, relieved by the sight of the gates appearing in the far distance. you wanted nothing more than to run back home and scream into your pillow. god, this whole one-sided crush thing was pathetic. 

“i just— she’s different, you know? we talk for hours and hours and it’s never weird or anything, dude.” ellie rambles, and for once in your life, you wanted her to shut up, but you couldn’t bear to say that to her. “i think i’m gonna ask her to be my girlfriend — tonight, at the party.” 

air caught up in your trachea, absolutely stunned by her statement. 

“what happened to her ‘just being a fling?’” you cleared your throat, trying to hide the tears building up. you wanted nothing more than for a hole to open up in the ground so it can swallow you up in a black darkness — along with sunshine, so you had a companion. 

“man, fuck that,” she scoffs, “cat is just..something else.”

you feel tears about to spill from your eyes, “well, congratulations, els. i am so happy for you.” 

the worst thing about this whole thing was you were truly happy for her — well you tried your hardest to be. being a good friend meant supporting and being happy for the people you love, no matter what your feelings were. 

you knew you were about to burst into tears, so you made a break for it, clicking your tongue and signaling sunshine to sprint towards the gates. you could hear ellie yelling behind you, but you didn’t care, you just wanted to be alone. 

the guards opened the gates, allowing you in as sunshine began to slow down to a steady gallop, ellie following shortly behind. with a swiftness, you got off of sunshine and handed her lead to one of the stable boys, muttering a quick ‘thank you’ before quickly stalking off towards your home. your thoughts of wanting to be buried under the thick covers to cry for hours were interrupted as a firm hand grabbed your arm. 

“hey!” ellie snapped, looking annoyed as you turned around, “what the fuck was that? you ditched me back there.” 

you chewed on your bottom lip, trying to conjure up a dumb excuse. “sorry, i- uh- really needed to use the bathroom,” your hand rubbed your stomach, “don’t think the sandwich is sitting well.” 

ellie narrows her eyes, and for a second you think she doesn’t believe you, but that disappears once her nose scrunches up and she laughs, “ewww,” she cringes, “go on then.”

you give a weak smile and turn around to continue your trek. maybe you could’ve handled that better. you did leave her alone, even if it was for second, but ellie would’ve never done that to you. letting out a groan, you rub your forehead, “ugh, i’m so stupid.” you whisper to yourself.

feeling guilty, you stop and turn to apologize to ellie for running off, but your heart breaks into two at what you see — ellie pressing cat up against the stables, her lips busy against hers, and you wished you never turned around at all.

- 

“dinaaaaaaaaaaa, i need another one pleaseee,” you drag out your words, slamming the glass against the table. the brunette sighed, taking your glass away from you. 

“i don’t think you should be having another one.” dina suggests, and while the sober version of you would’ve agreed, the intoxicated version of you protested. 

“no! i need it, deens,” you whine out, “please. m’going through heartbreak right now.” you pout, and point to your boob, totally missing the place where your heart should be. dina rolls her eyes, eventually giving in and pouring you your fourth glass of whiskey.

your eyes light up, taking the glass and lifting it up, “cheeeeeers!!” you hurrah, before downing the glass in one gulp and slamming it down again. 

dina sighs, glancing at jesse, who was almost..startled? he was mostly shocked at how many glasses of whiskey you were able to run through your system in a span of an hour and a half.

two hours before you arrived to maria’s party, after getting ready, you made a plan. a terrible, horrible plan, but it was a plan that you thought would be best — for everybody. 

after spending most of the afternoon after patrol feeling sorry for yourself and crying for three hours, you wiped your tears and decided enough was enough, you had to get over these stupid feelings you had for ellie. you didn’t want to sabotage her new relationship with cat, so you thought it’d be a good idea to distance yourself from her instead. 

it was unbearable for you to be around her already, without having the temptation to kiss her everytime you looked at her. 

but seeing her with a girlfriend? you’d rather throw yourselves to a horde of runners for them to snack on like a delicious jumbo pack of beef jerky. 

after creating your little plan, you dressed in your best and did your hair, and decided to add a little cherry on top of your plan by forgetting any and all feelings about ellie williams by getting absolutely shit-faced with hard liquor — your new bff.

two hours later, here you were, begging dina for a fifth glass. “pleeeeeeaaasseee, i’ll- i’ll- i’ll do your laundry for a month!” you bargained. 

“as tempting as that sounds, no! you’re gonna puke your guts out in the morning— you’ll be thanking me for not giving you another drink,” she says, twisting the cap on the glass bottle, earning a pout from you.

“dina, i’ll do anything! i just- i just- wanna forget all about ellie,” you sigh, looking across the bar at cat, who’s sitting alone, possibly waiting for ellie to arrive. tears prick the corner of your eyes, and you look away, putting your face in your hands, “this hurts so bad.”

not even liquor can make you forget about ellie williams and how her name was permanently etched onto your heart for infinity. 

dina scootches her chair next to you, pulling you into a side hug, and you weep into her shirt. she glances at jesse, and all they could feel for you was sympathy, knowing well how strongly you felt about ellie. it was clear to everyone, but ellie, how much you loved her. everyone advised you to tell just ‘tell her how you felt’ and you never listened to them, always saying it’d make your friendship too complicated. 

but a part of you right now felt like you should’ve listened, feeling dejected by the thought of missing the only opportunity you had to be with her. 

“i’m gonna go see if i can get maria to make her something to eat,” dina says standing up to step away towards the bar, “make sure she doesn’t have any more drinks.” 

jesse’s eyes widen as he realizes he’s now left to babysit you. 

dina leans on the barside tables, “maria!”

the older lady turns around as she pours a drink and sets it on the table for one of the customers to take, “hey, dina,” she greets, throwing a towel over her shoulder, “what can i get ‘ya?” 

“just a water and a little something to eat,” dina orders. 

“sure thing. we could whip up a quick sandwich or we also have peanuts or chips in the back, take your pick.” 

the brunette thinks for a second, “uhh, just give me whatever’s convenient. it’s not for me anyways, it’s for her,” dina nods towards you, her eyes widening as she sees you chugging the brown liquor from the glass bottle, with jesse attempting to pry the bottle from your hands. maria laughs and shakes her head. 

“what’s her deal tonight?” 

“uh, heartbreak,” dina mutters, rubbing the back of her neck, “ellie told her she was gonna ask cat to be her girlfriend tonight when they were out during patrol.” 

the older woman sighs, looking down and grabbing the towel from her shoulder to wipe the sticky table. “they both have to fess up already, or else they’re both gonna lose each other.” 

dina’s brows furrow, “what do you mean?” 

“yeah, sure, everyone knows she loves ellie. anyone can see it,” maria pauses, “but if you focus hard enough on those two, you can see that ellie is just as head over heels for her, if not more. hell, i don’t even think she’s realized it herself.” maria bends down and opens a small fridge, taking out a wrapped sandwich. 

“you think so?” 

“i know so.” maria puts a cup of ice water on the table alongside the wrapped sandwich, before taking the next customers order. 

with the glass of water and sandwich in hand, dina returns back to the table, greeted by the sight of you and jesse fighting over the liquor bottle. 

“i will put my fist up your butt if you don’t give me that back!” you shout as jesse’s grip doesn’t budge from the shiny bottle. 

“you’ve had enough, you little monster!” jesse yells as he gives another hard yank to the bottle, breaking it from your grip. dina lets out a laugh, before she sits down next to you, pulling you down with her so you can take a seat, but you trip over and nearly miss the chair entirely. 

“whoops,” you giggle, completely plastered. 

steadying yourself and sitting on the hardwood chair, dina holds the glass of water up towards your lips, “drink up.”

you take a sip of water, and cower at the bland taste, “heeeyy, this isn’t whiskeeee,” you whine. 

“you need it, so you don’t wake up all sick and stuff,” dina says, attempting to persuade you to drink more water and sway you away from any ideas of sipping on alcohol again. 

“no, i don- i don’t need that,” you garble, “what i do need is- is- is ellie.”

at the mention of ellie’s name again, you break out into tears. this was the night that jesse and dina realized you were an extremely, emotional drunk. 

“okay, that’s it,” jesse says standing up, “we’re taking you home.” 

you gasp, “no! i promise no more drinks!” you attempt to hold onto the table, but to no avail, jesse easily gets you on your feet and holds you steady on your left side.

“c’mon, dina, take her other side.” dina goes to your right and puts her arm around your waist, making sure you have no chances of slipping out of her grip. 

“pleeeeaaassseee, don’ let them take me away!!” you shout to the bystanders as jesse and dina drag you away from the event and towards the doors of the bar, gaining some stares and laughs from the other partygoers. 

as the cold, winter night air hits you in the face, the three of you are greeted by the person you wanted so badly to forget about tonight. 

“uh, hey, guys,” the green-eyed girl greets, “leaving already?” 

jesse and dina look at each other nervously, with you still in their hold. “yup, someone partied too hard.” jesse says, laughing a little bit too awkwardly. 

ellie takes you in, glancing at your inebriated state; eyes all hazy and glossed over, letting out little giggles here and there, and can barely stand on their own two feet. 

“so, if you don’t mind, we’ll be taking her home,” dina clears her throat, “jesse get her keys.” jesse quickly lets go of you, sending you stumbling over to the side, bringing dina along with you. 

ellie rushes over to your side and snakes her arm around your waist, holding you close to her body. butterflies erupted in your stomach once again. even in your extremely drunken condition, your body knew how to respond when ellie was around. 

jesse pats your pockets, and doesn’t feel anything, “nothing, she doesn’t have her keys.” 

“hehe, i think i forgot them. dunno where they are,” you giggle, feeling all warm and drowsy all of a sudden, and your head leans over to the side, coincidentally on ellie’s shoulder. 

“shit. how the fuck do we get her home and in bed then?” dina sighs out. 

“i’ll take her back to mine and let her sleep over.” ellie decides without a second thought, taking your arm and putting it over her shoulder. 

dina’s hesitant, “you sure? you just got here.” 

“of course. don’t want her getting hurt or ending up god knows where,” ellie lets out a laugh, “just do me a favor and tell cat i’ll make it up to her tomorrow.” 

the pair both nod and head back in the bar, whereas you were too busy looking at ellie’s face and how all her features looked perfect in the soft glow of the lights shining through the windows from the bar. 

“you have greeeen eyes,” you comment, your eyes in total awe as ellie guides you back to her shed. 

“yup, i do,” ellie laughs, amused by your drunk comments. 

“my best friend has greeeen eyes,” you slurred out, “you kin’a look like her.” 

“yeah?” 

“mmmhhhmmm, her- her name is ellie and she’s the best,” you smile at the thought of ellie, completely unbeknownst that she was the one holding onto you, “i-i love her.”

“i’m sure ellie loves you too,” ellie assures. you shake your head. 

“nuh uh, she doesn’t,” you counter, “ellie loves me. i love love ellie.” 

the girl laughs, “what? love love? what does that mean?” 

“i’m in looooove with ellie, dumb dumb.” 

ellie stops in her tracks, causing you to retract and fall back, sending her on top of you. ellie was astounded, barely registering the fact that you’re both on the snow. 

“what?” maybe ellie heard incorrectly. you were drunk and babbling nonsense, but she still had to make sure. 

“i,” you point to yourself, “am in love with ellie williams.” you manage to let out clearly, wincing from the melted snow seeping into your clothes. ellie gets up on her feet and pulls you up, brushing the snow off your clothes and hair. 

“you’re just- you’re just drunk.” ellie tries to find some explanation to all of this, and that was the most rational one she could think of. she secures her arm onto you again, continuing the short walk to her place. 

“nope, nope, nope,” you shake your head, “i have been in loveee with ellie for— one, two, three, four, five— five years!” you count your fingers. “but, she doesn’t love me back.” 

you begin to cry again, nestling your face into her chest. still unaware you were with ellie, the very person you were crying over, “she told me she was gonna- she was gonna-” you pause to wipe your tears, “she was gonna ask cat to be her girlfriend.”

ellie’s heart tore at the sight of one of the most important people in her life crying, and it was all because of her. she didn’t know what to think, she wanted to believe that you were saying all this stuff because you were drunk, but a part of her doesn’t believe it — a drunk man’s words is a sober man’s thoughts. 

rumaging in her pockets, she took her key out as you both neared her shed. her arm still secured around your waist, ellie unlocked her door and hauled you over her bed, pulling the blankets back, and sitting you down on the sheets.

ellie’s mind was running a mile a minute, thinking about your confession minutes prior, but she was still intent on taking care of you. she bent down to untie your shoes and tie your hair out of your face, ensuring you’d be more comfortable sleeping this way.

pouring some extra water she had in a cup, she brings it towards your lips, “open.” you obey her command and part your lips, taking small sips of water, your eyes having difficulty staying open as you began to feel sleepy. 

ellie placed the cup on the nightstand and she gently laid you back in her bed, pulling a blanket over you. before she knew it, you were out like a light, gentle snores coming from your mouth. 

ellie let out a heavy sigh and sat down on her couch, unable to shake the events that took place tonight — any ides of making cat her girlfriend fading further and further away from her mind.

affinity - part 2 here

[abbys-wifey]

falling for you

pairing: tara carpenter x female reader

warnings: embarrassing y/n.

a/n: the requests are being written guys i apologise for the time it’s taking

The first time I see her is on my way to my bio lecture. She was walking in the other direction, books tucked comfortably under her arm as she laughed with some curly haired girl.

It was crazy how fast I managed to fall for her, both physically and mentally.

Stumbling forwards I brace myself for the pain as I land face first into the concrete. “Oh shit are you good?” I curse whoever the higher power of this world is as the girl rushes over to my side.

“I’m good, just clumsy.” I manage to laugh through my embarrassment as I push myself to my knees, wincing as I run my hand over my face. “Your bleeding.” She contradicts monotonously as her eyebrow raises.

Seeing her up close made me want to fall over again, her perfect brown eyes that could swallow me whole and her nose adorned in little freckles that made a trail all the way down her cheeks. “Did you get a concussion or do you always stare this hard?” She asks scrunching her nose slightly.

“Neither?” I chuckle awkwardly willing the floor below me to open up and take me away from this pride shattering situation. “Ok, well if your ok then I have a class to get to. Try not to hurt that pretty face of yours anymore alright?” And with that she sends me a smile and a wave before heading back to her curly haired friend and continuing on her path to class.

………

“You fucking fell over in front of her?”

“Shut up ok, I didn’t mean to.” I hiss at my best friend Charlotte who doubles over in laughter earning a glare from our bio teacher.

“Oh that’s beautiful. I wish I was there.” Charlotte cackles wiping a tear from her eye. “Did you at least get her name?” She asks still recovering from her laughing fit. I run a hand down my face once again forgetting about the cut running across the side of my cheek. “Fuck ow.” I inhale sharply making sure it hadn’t re opened before turning back to my friend. “And no I’m a fucking idiot. You know this. I can’t talk let alone flirt with pretty girls. Especially ones who flirt back and call me pretty.” I sigh and rest my hands under my chin. “Besides this campus is massive, I doubt I’ll ever see her again.”

Charlottes eyes roll playfully. “Your life is sad. So pathetically sad.” Her hand rubs my back as she turns her attention back to our teacher.

………

With an aching head I manage to sit through the rest of my classes for the day and answer the many many questions on what happened to my cheek. None of which I answered honestly.

And with my last class over I go to head back to my apartment with Mac Miller blasting in my ears but a light tap on my shoulder forces me to pull out my airpods and turn around.

“Hi, sorry for interrupting your music session, just wanted to make sure you were ok after your… fall, earlier.” The same short brown eyed girl from earlier smiles up at me, her eyes lingering on my cheek.

My heart skips a beat (or five) and my hands rush to tuck my stray hairs behind my ears. “Oh uh that’s ok. I’m alright just got this to deal with when I get home.” I shrug nonchalantly as if the cut on my cheek didn’t make me sob in a bathroom for ten minutes.

The girl laughs, a sound that makes me believe I just ascended into heaven. “Yeah you better make sure that doesn’t scar. Although it’s a known fact that chicks dig scars so.” She smirks cheekily and winks.

“My names Tara by the way.” She extends her hand and I take it slowly. “Y/N. My names Y/N.” I shake her hand gently, our hands remaining intertwined for longer than is considered normal.

“You know how to take care of your cheek?” Tara asks leaning on her tippy toes to get a better view of the wound. “Uh, I’ll just have a shower and hope it gets better I guess.” I laugh awkwardly as Tara shakes her head, a hint of a smile playing on her lips.

“This might be forward but can I come to your apartment? Just to make sure you treat your cut well. I’ve had my fair share of wounds I know what to do with them and I’m sure you don’t want your face scarred forever.” Tara shrugs before looking down at her shoes that dig awkwardly against the pavement.

“I’m ok with it. So long as you don’t plan to murder me.” I chuckle causing Tara to place her attention back on me, her eyes rolling playfully. “Please, I’m five foot basically nothing. I think you’ll be fine.” She retorts as the two of us slowly begin walking towards my apartment.

“You never know. They say the small ones are the ones you need to watch out for.”

……

Arriving back at my apartment, Tara is quick to ask where my bathroom is before tugging me towards it. “Have a shower and hope.” She scoffs as she mocks my earlier words. Shoving me against the bathroom sink, although she apologises at the unnecessary force used, Tara rummages through my medicine cabinet until she finds what she’s looking for.

Antiseptic.

“This is gonna hurt.” She smiles apologetically before moving to stand between my legs, her brown eyes catching mine. “Is this alright?” She asks, slowly reaching up to grip my jaw. “Better than ok.” I scrunch my nose up as she blushes before letting out a whine as she finally presses the liquid to my wound.

“I knew you were trying to kill me.” I breathe, trying my hardest not to look like a wimp. Tara’s eyes flicker to my own filled with worry before returning to my cheek as she dabs away. “Trust me, this is the least painful part.” She chuckles. I don’t reply, simply fixated on her concentrated face.

Once again I find myself following her trail of freckles and losing myself in her brown eyes. Only this time I don’t have a concussion to blame it on when she catches my stare.

“So what’s the excuse this time?” She whispers, her nose basically brushing mine as she gazes up at me.

I can’t reply, my voice stuck in my throat as her dimples appear following her toothy grin. Mustering up as much courage as I possibly can I let my hand fall upon her waist pulling her further into my legs. “I don’t have one.” I manage to breathe out as her breath hitches.

I watch as Tara’s eyes fall to my lips, her tongue running over her own. “Just kiss me.” I whisper surprised at my own confidence.

But confidence is key as Tara’s lips connect with my own, her hands leaving my jaw to tangle themselves in my hair as I squeeze her waist gently.

Capturing her tongue with mine is something that I had yet to even imagine, the feeling of euphoria rushing through every nerve in my body.

Only when breathing becomes a problem do I pull back and grin at the flushed face of the brown eyed girl before me.

“Your beautiful.” I sigh moving a hand to her cheek and caressing it lightly. Her lips twitch upwards as she shrugs. “Your cheek is still not treated. Let me finish my job and we can finish this later.” She teases softly before leaning in to peck my lips once again.

“And I promise you. We will.”

[corroded-hellfire]

Finally His Year - Eddie Munson x Reader

An As You Wish Story

Collab with my soulmate @munson-blurbs 🩵

Summary: It’s Eddie’s birthday and what he really wants is you.

Note: In honor of JQ’s 30th birthday woohoo 🎉

Words: 4.1k

[As You Wish masterlist]

The Munson house is buzzing when you arrive. There are three unfamiliar cars parked in front of it, probably from the other people celebrating Eddie’s birthday with him. You have his gift tucked under your arm and a Tupperware of raspberry and white chocolate chip cookies in that same hand, using the free one to ring the doorbell. 

You barely have time to pull your forefinger back before the door swings open. Luke peeks his head around, grinning when he sees you standing there. 

“Good evening, madam-a-zell,” he says in a vague concoction of European accents—none of them even resembling French. “May I take your—ooh, cookies!”

Laughing, you reach over and ruffle his mop of curls. “These are for Daddy, Luke-miere.” When his face falls, you quickly add, “but maybe he’ll share.”

This placates him, and he skips off to announce your arrival. As soon as he says your name, you hear the sound of Eddie’s feet shuffling towards the entryway. 

“You made it!” He says with a huge smile. In your dreams, he pulls you in for a hug and kisses you tenderly. But this is real life, so he just stands with his hands in his pockets. 

“I made it,” you agree awkwardly. It takes a moment for you to remember everything you’re holding. “Oh, these are all for you.” You maneuver it all, handing him the cylindrical tube and then the plastic container. Luke loudly clears his throat, and you grin. “Unless you feel like sharing the cookies.”

Eddie takes the presents, shaking his head at his younger son’s interruption. “I’ll consider it. Thank you, Sweetheart.”

That stupid nickname. You love and hate it; as much as he calls you that, you know you’re not his sweetheart. Because he’s married. 

His wife—God, you hated that she held that title—was sipping a full glass of wine. Though she’s standing next to Nancy, the two aren’t exchanging any words. 

You should go over there. Brittany is technically one of your employers, so it’s best not to rock the boat. Unless, of course, you could ensure she’d fall overboard. 

Plastering a feigned smile on your face, you walk over to her. Before you can even get out a hello, she points towards Ryan and Luke. 

“They have to go to bed at nine o’clock, so just have them in their pajamas with their teeth brushed by then.”

Embarrassment crawls under your skin. “Oh, I, um, I’m actually here for the party. Not to babysit.”

Brittany doesn’t seem thrown off at all; she just rolls her eyes and turns to Nancy. “Didn’t realize people still needed parties after they turned thirty,” she quips. 

To her credit, Nancy just shrugs and walks to you, ignoring the snark hurled your way. She guides you over to where the rest of the group is chatting. 

“Can you say, ‘Uncle Dusty’?” Dustin asks little Tiffany Mayfield-Sinclair, gently bouncing her in his arms. “C’mon…Un-kul Duh-stee!”

“Elmo!” Tiffany claps her chubby hands together gleefully, unbothered by Dustin’s frustration. 

“I think your kid’s broken,” he grumbles, handing the little girl back to Lucas. 

“She was fine until you held her,” Lucas quips as he holds his daughter against his chest.

“Or maybe she just thinks you look like Elmo,” Steve offers with a shrug. 

“What is this, high school?” Dustin asks, looking between his friends. “Ganging up on me?”

Eddie shakes his head and gives a loud tsk. 

“It’s because you’re not part of the club, Henderson.”

“Oh, because I’m not a dad?” Dustin asks, gesturing with a motion that looks very similar to jazz hands. “That’s fine. Because I’m the coolest uncle these kids have. Someone has to be that figure in their lives.”

“Are they always like this?” you ask Nancy with an amused chuckle.

“Since high school,” Nancy confirms with a sigh. “The sad thing is, I can see how they’ve matured since then.”

You giggle at her response before there’s a weighted thunk against the front of your legs. Ryan’s chocolate eyes peer up at you, a huge grin on his round face. 

“Well hello, you,” you greet him, reaching down to ruffle his honey colored hair. 

“I’m so happy you’re here!” Ryan cheers. Warmth spreads in your chest at his words. You’re touched until he opens his mouth again to ask, “Luke said you brought cookies?”

“I did,” you tell him, tugging on a lock of hair that’s fallen into his eyes. “But they’re for your dad. It’s up to him if he wants to share with you guys.” Of course he will, you think to yourself. Eddie loves these boys more than Luke loves his Hot Wheels collection; and as you’re reminded by the five-year-old almost every day you babysit, that’s a lot. 

“Maybe after he opens his presents,” Ryan muses, more to himself than you. “Or after we have the cake Aunt Nancy made.

“Ryan!”

A little girl’s call echoes around the room. The older Munson boy gives you a quick smile before running towards the kitchen where Natalie Harrington is drawing a picture. 

Something Ryan said sticks in your brain though. You turn towards Nancy, brow pinching slightly.

“You made Eddie’s cake?” you ask. 

The deep breath Nancy takes lets you know there’s more to the story than she’s probably going to tell you. After all, she hardly knows you. The two of you had only met a handful of times since you started watching the boys last year and none of the visits were particularly long. It's an annoyed sigh that Nancy heaves out, her petite shoulders falling with the release. She’s not annoyed at you, if her kindness and body language towards you are anything to go on. So, what’s got her so tense?

“I did,” Nancy affirms. She’s quiet for a moment and at first you think that’s all she’s going to say. But the way her head bobbles slightly from side to side and her jaw muscles tighten and release, you can tell she’s picking her words carefully before she speaks. To her, you’re her friend’s employee so how much should she reveal? “Steve, um, called Eddie yesterday morning to confirm the time for the party today. Eddie was headed out the door just as Steve called. He said he was going to the grocery store. To buy his own birthday cake.”

“His own? Why couldn’t his wife get it? Or better yet, why didn’t she make one for him with the boys?” Your mind floats back to when you and the boys made a cake for Ryan’s birthday over the summer. It was messy and overly sweet, but the love and care put into it are what made it special. 

“That’s what I said,” Nancy grits out through a clenched jaw. After a few moments, you see Nancy’s body deflate. The tension rolls off her like a wave returning to the sea. “So, I made him one. Carrot cake with cream cheese frosting.”

“Carrot cake?” you ask, wrinkling up your nose. It’s not that you disliked the dessert, it just wasn’t what you would’ve pegged Eddie for on his birthday. 

“I know,” Nancy says with a small chuckle. She shakes her head in amusement, wavy locks of hair swaying at the movement. “He can’t be typical, right? Not chocolate or vanilla—or even strawberry, but carrot cake. That’s Eddie for ya.”

The party continues with casual conversations: milestones Tiffany is meeting, work updates for the “kids” (who were now full-fledged adults, but would always be freshmen to Eddie), and a tentatively scheduled reunion for their high school Dungeons & Dragons club. It only came to a stop when there was a crash in the kitchen. 

Everyone’s heads whipped around at the sound, worried that one of the Munson or Harrington children was causing chaos, but the reason for the clamor was none other than Brittany. She’d dropped the cheese and cracker board on the ground and was laughing like she’d just heard the funniest joke. 

“Oopsie daisy!” She cackles, nearly falling over with the force of her laugh. While the rest of you had been casually sipping wine or beer, she had been drinking like she was at a frat party. 

“Jesus,” Nancy mutters under her breath. 

Eddie glances at Steve, who nods at Lucas, and the two of them step in towards Brittany. 

“C’mon, time for bed, Britt,” Steve says as patiently as he can manage. He hooks an arm around her, and Lucas does the same on the other side. It’s obvious that this isn’t the first time they’ve done this. A well-oiled machine, ensuring that the kids are none the wiser.

Small miracles, you suppose. 

“We can do presents when they get back,” Max jumps in, trying to keep the attention away from the drunk woman stumbling away. 

Eddie nods in agreement, collecting the various gifts from the kitchen table and placing them next to his spot on the sofa. When he sits, he spreads his legs enough that you can imagine yourself between them, pressing kisses up his thighs to his—

No. Stop it. 

When Steve and Lucas return, Eddie reaches for the first package. Though the room is filled with excited murmurs and crinkling wrapping paper, you can still make out the quiet conversation between Nancy and her husband. 

“Did you hold a pillow over her head?”

“No, Nance.”

“Damn it.”

You tuck your lips into your mouth to stifle a smile. 

Eddie pulls out a pair of sneakers from the box: white with a black check mark on the side. He immediately slides them on his feet, wiggling his toes around to ensure enough room. “These are perfect! My old ones were falling apart.”

“We know,” Nancy says wryly as Steve proudly announces, “You said you liked mine, so I got you the same ones.”

“Aww!” Dustin coos, pursing his lips exaggeratedly. “You guys are twins!

Eddie discreetly flips him off before continuing through his stash. Theo and Natalie Harrington made him woven friendship bracelets, which he immediately slid onto his left wrist. When he opens Dustin’s gift, a mug printed with the words “rock ‘n roll” underneath a cartoon rock and dinner roll, Wayne proclaims that it’s even cornier than the ones in the trailer. 

Eddie’s face lights up at the present from Max and Lucas—a new Walkman and some heavy metal cassettes. 

A pit forms in your stomach: is your gift going to be enough? Will he even like it? Was this whole thing a bad—

“Holy shit.”

You look up to see Eddie staring awestruck at the now-unwrapped present; specifically, the present you got for him. It’s an autographed Metallica poster that you’d spotted at the mall months ago, before his birthday was even a consideration. You’d bought it and kept it safely in your room, waiting for the perfect time to give it to him. 

“Sweetheart, this is…” He just shakes his head, blinking misty eyes. “Wow. I, um…thank you,” he finally manages. 

Unbeknownst to you, Eddie had seen that same poster just last week. He had Brittany’s shopping bags clutched in his hands when he walked towards the record store. 

Kirk Hammett’s signature called to him like a siren. 

Eddie was just about ready to pay for it when Brittany marched over, plucking it from his grip and mumbling something about not having room for any more of his stupid music shit. 

That had been the end of that. 

“You’re welcome,” you say with a small shrug, as if it was nothing at all. “I saw it and immediately thought of you.” That wasn’t too much to say, right? It’s normal to think of someone when you see something you know they’d love, right? Even if that person is your boss?

Once Luke stops scavenging through his father’s presents like one might be hidden there for him, he looks up at his dad with wide, pleading eyes that he most definitely inherited from the man. 

“Time for caaaake?”

Eddie snorts and playfully rolls his eyes. A ringed hand comes down to ruffle the little boy’s curls.

“I guess we could have cake now.”

The Munson boys and the Harrington sibling duo cheer in excitement and beat everyone else into the kitchen. All you can hear as the kids disappear into the next room is an I’m okay! from Luke.

Steve taps you on the shoulder as you step over the threshold into the kitchen.

“Hey, could you give me a hand with the cake?” he asks. 

“Sure.” You follow Steve over to the refrigerator, silently wondering how many women had actually denied the handsome man anything when he asked in such a smooth voice. 

The cake looks delicious as Steve pulls it out of the fridge. Nancy definitely put in some work to make sure it turned out this lovely. The cream cheese frosting is smooth on all sides with delicate piping lining the edge of the rectangular sheet cake. In a beautiful scrawl that is far nicer than your own handwriting, she had written “Happy Birthday Eddie!” in black gel icing. 

Steve sets the cake down on the gray granite counter and reaches for a drugstore bag that has a pack of candles and a lighter in it. The two of you work as a team to plug the cake with the multicolored striped sticks and take turns lighting different sides of the cake. 

“You got it?” Steve asks as he steps over towards the light switches on the wall.

“Yep,” you assure him as you carefully lift the flaming desert off the counter. Turning around to face the table proves the most difficult part as you slowly spin your body while keeping the cake steady. 

Eddie is seated at the table, kids surrounding him on all sides as they clamor about what’s taking so long with the cake. Taking so long? You thought you and Steve worked pretty efficiently together. 

“Watch out rugrats,” Dustin says, clapping a hand on Luke’s shoulder and pulling him out of your way. 

You give the curly haired man a grateful smile before you slide the cake onto the table right in front of Eddie. As you go to pull your arms away, pale, calloused fingers reach up and rest against your skin for a moment.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” Eddie says. 

All you did was carry a cake over but you’re more than glad to receive praise from your boss any time that you can. 

Steve flips the kitchen lights off and everyone breaks into a rousing rendition of Happy Birthday. Ryan stands right in front of you as you sing, and you rest your hands on his small shoulders. 

“Make a wish!” Luke calls from Dustin’s side once the singing ended. He watches as his dad purses his lips, thinking of a wish. The dim lighting in the room may be playing tricks on you, but you could’ve sworn Eddie’s eyes flickered over to you before he took a deep breath and blew out all thirty-something of the candles on the first try. 

“Yay!” Luke cheers while everyone else claps. “Whatcha wish for?”

Ryan scoffs and rolls his eyes at his little brother. “He can’t tell you or it won’t come true.”

“For my last birthday I wished for a pet,” Luke says. 

“Is that why you dug up the worm in the backyard?” Eddie asks.

“Yep,” Luke announces, a proud smile on his face. 

“Wormy Munson is missed,” Ryan says, patting his little brother’s shoulder. 

The attention quickly turns from squiggly little pets when Nancy asks the room, “Who wants a piece?”

“Me!” Four children’s hands shoot up at the same time, but Nancy just shakes her head at them.

“Birthday boy gets first crack at it,” she says as she slices a piece and transfers it to a Darth Vader paper plate. Nancy delivers that and a plastic fork to Eddie before returning to the counter to cut slices for the rest of the guests. 

When you get your piece of cake, you slip into a seat next to Eddie’s at the table. 

“So, carrot cake, huh?” you ask him with a playful smirk on your face. 

“Hey, gotta get vegetables into these kids somehow,” Eddie says, reaching behind him to tickle Ryan’s belly. The older boy laughs and moves out of his dad’s reach. 

“Broccoli brownies next?” you ask, a shit eating grin on your face before you pop a chunk of cake into your mouth.

“Such a smart ass,” Eddie teases, scooping some of his icing onto his pinky and wiping it off on the tip of your nose. Both boys giggle as you try to reach it with your tongue, trying to stretch it out as far as possible to lick it off. Though the boys found it funny, Eddie had an entirely different feeling wash over him as he watched your tongue snake out to try and lick the white substance off your face. His pants tighten and Eddie shifts in his seat, trying to hide his crotch further beneath the table. 

Guests drift in and out of the kitchen with their plates of cake, mingling with one another out in the living room. You offer to collect the paper plates up for the garbage once everyone is done. You’re carrying the stack back towards the kitchen when you hear Steve and Eddie having a conversation in there. It’s pretty clear this is just meant to be between them, but when you hear Steve’s question to his best friend, your feet become glued to the floor. 

“Think you’ll finally get lucky tonight since it’s your birthday?” 

Eddie snorts. “It doesn’t seem like it.” You can practically picture him nodding his head in the direction of his bedroom where Brittany is probably snoring her ass off as she sleeps off her alcohol. You really hope she has a hangover tomorrow. 

“Not what I meant, dude,” Steve replies.

This catches you off guard. Who could Steve possibly be talking about if not Brittany? Does… A sickening thought winds its way through your brain, claws taking hold in those places that are already prone to insecurities. Does Eddie have a girlfriend? It’s not like you would judge him for it after Brittany’s whoring around is common knowledge. But it drives an ice pick through your heart just picturing Eddie with his own awful, evil wife. Knowing he might be with someone who could be kind and caring should comfort you—but it doesn’t. It makes you want to tear your skin off to think of Eddie with anyone else but you. Because if he wasn’t going to be with Brittany, you wanted him to be with you. And if you didn’t even get a chance to show him what the two of you could be together? The idea threatened to destroy you. 

“Watch it Harrington,” Eddie answers Steve, his voice low. It’s the closest thing to a warning you’ve ever heard from him. 

A familiar toddler’s cry abruptly ends their conversation and your now-agonizing eavesdropping. Eddie shakes his head, giving Steve one last glare as he walks out of the kitchen, and looks over at a wailing Tiffany Mayfield-Sinclair. 

Ryan scrunches his face. “Daddy, play her the song!”

“Yeah, play it!” Luke echoes, hands pressed to his ears. 

Now you’re intrigued. “What song?”

Eddie sighs. “Boys, I don’t think anyone wants to hear me play—”

“Au contraire,” Dustin butts in with a smirk. He hands Eddie his acoustic guitar, propped up in the corner. “I think we’d all love a little concert.”

Eddie gives you a look that pleads help me out here, but you’re already invested. 

“Concert! Concert!” You chant, laughing when the others join in. 

He doesn’t say anything, just slips the strap over his shoulder and quickly tunes the guitar. 

“If…you’re…happy and you know it, clap your hands!”

Everyone in the room claps twice. Everyone except Tiffany, who is still wailing. 

“If you’re happy and you know it clap your hands!”

Same result. 

“All right, all right. Let’s skip to a different verse.” Eddie takes in the baby’s squealing form. 

“If…you’re…angry and you know it, do a growl.” He lets out the most ridiculous roar you’ve ever heard, and you can’t help but laugh. 

From her mother’s arms, Tiffany lets out a roar of her own. Your giggle catches her attention, and she reaches out for you to hold her. 

For a moment, Eddie believes his heart is going to implode from the sweet scene in front of him. He wills himself to concentrate on playing, but the sight of you holding a baby girl weakens his resolve. How many times has he daydreamed about you holding his baby girl that he shares with you? Probably too many times on the job for someone who deals with heavy machinery. In his mind she has your hair and his eyes—though he knows she’d probably gets his curls since both boys have them to a degree.

Tiffany bounces in your arms, enraptured in the music. If Eddie plays Old MacDonald, she’ll be mind-blown. 

The soft timbre of Eddie’s voice, enthusiastic enough to capture Tiffany’s attention without riling her up, has your heart beating double time. Though you’ve known from the beginning that Eddie plays guitar, this is the first time you actually get to witness it. It’s as sexy as you’ve always imagined—even if he’s only playing nursery rhymes.

“There we go,” Eddie murmurs as whatever had been bothering the little girl seemingly dissipates. He grins at Max and Lucas. “That should buy you about five minutes before the next meltdown.”

Sure enough, the crying starts up again, signaling the party’s end. Hugs are exchanged as everyone clears out; final “happy birthday’s” sent Eddie’s way.

There’s a small tug on your arm just as you’re about to grab your purse. “Can you tuck us into bed?” Ryan asks, eyes wide. Luke’s at his side, nodding in agreement. 

“Of course.” Always the babysitter, you think, but you truly enjoy being a part of their lives. The fact that they also enjoy it makes it even better.

The youngest Munson beams at you. “Maybe you can sleep over!”

“Uh, not this time. Sorry, kiddo.”

After teeth have been brushed and bedtime stories have been read, you retreat back to the kitchen. Eddie is clipping open bags of potato chips, and you start to gather any used paper platesto toss in the trash. 

“You don’t have to,” Eddie says, gesturing towards the stack of disposable cups in your hand. 

You cock your brow and smirk. “Do you really wanna clean all of this by yourself?”

“Fuck no.”

“That’s what I thought.”

He smiles back at you, shaking his head when he notices icing smeared on the back of a kitchen chair. “Should’ve put the boys on clean-up duty” he grunts.

“Then everything would just get shoved under the couch and they’d call it a day,” you point out, and he readily agrees.

Once the floor has been swept and the leftover food has been placed in the refrigerator, you have no valid excuse to stay any longer.

“I should get going,” you say, plucking your keys from your bag and twirling the chain around your forefinger. “I hope you had a good birthday.”

Eddie nods as he walks with you to the front door. He holds it open for you, then follows you out to your car. “Yeah, it was great. Especially your gift. It, um, meant a lot.” A slight rosiness tinges his cheeks, and he pulls you in for a hug.

You return it easily, your arms wrapping around his torso. Both of you hold on a beat longer than necessary, but you can’t seem to pull away.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, breath tickling your ear. He leans in; for a moment, it seems like he’s going to kiss the top of your head, but he takes a step back. Eddie’s done it so many times in his mind before that he almost forgot he doesn’t get to do it in real life. “Get home safe, yeah?”

“I will.” You duck into your car, giving him a small wave before you pull out of the driveway. As you drive, you watch Eddie trudge back into the house from your rearview mirror.

Once he’s inside, he closes the door and breathes out a sigh. He adjusts himself over his pants, painfully aware that he’s half-hard from a simple hug. Looking towards the bedroom he shares with Brittany, he pivots away and beelines towards the Tupperware of cookies you’d made.

Taking a big bite, he chews thoughtfully, delaying the inevitable. If only he could curl up next to you instead of her. He chuckles at the insanity of the idea and takes another bite of cookie.

“Happy fuckin’ birthday to me.”

[detroit-become-hurt]

Sweet Thing Pt. 2

So sorry about how long this took for me to upload! I had a friends wedding to attend and then work has me burnt out! But here it is!

A few days had passed since meeting Paul, Dwayne, David, and Marko. And I hate to say it, but they have been on my mind nonstop. There was something about them that piqued my interest, however I wasn’t sure what. Deciding enough was enough, I came up with the brilliant plan to talk to them once again, after my shift at the store. Was this a good idea? Probably not, especially after Sandra’s warning. But I wanted to make judgments for myself, it was unfair to make assumptions about the boys when I just met them.

Finishing getting ready I head out the door to work. Work was slow, the occasional customer coming in purely to look around before leaving. Luckily today’s shift passed by fairly quickly, and before I knew it, I was locking the door and off in search of four guys. 

The boardwalk seemed to be even busier tonight, but that was probably due to a concert going on down by the beach. Deciding to scope out the crowd down there I followed the sound of music and cheering. As I got closer it became more congested with groups of people drunk and lively. Several times people bumped into me, not paying attention to their surroundings. I was given a particular hard shove and almost fell over, had it not been for someone catching me. 

“Woah there sugar, we met once and already you’re falling for me?” Looking up I’m face to face with Paul. He gives me a crooked smile, a joint tucked behind his ear as he helps steady me. His hands stay on my shoulders even after I catch my footing. He was quite the flirt.

“Oh hey, I was looking for you guys.” I say without thinking, “I mean-I wasn’t. Shit.” I curse rubbing my face with my hand, cheeks flushed and hot from embarrassment.

Paul’s grin widens and he wraps his arm around my shoulders, “Aw sweets, you’re gonna make me swoon if you keep talking like that. Say, why are you looking for us?” He asks with genuine interest.

Looking anywhere but at him I huff, “Well, I just wanted to get to know you guys better.” Yeah, this was not going well. “I mean, I don’t know. My coworker said I should avoid you guys but I felt it was…unfair to make such judgments without getting to know you guys first.” I desperately wished I could dig a hole and bury myself alive right now.

It was almost like Paul could read my mind as he let out a loud laugh. “Well, I appreciate the honesty sugar. Come on, I’ll take you to the rest of the boys.” He steered me through the crowd, blocking other’s bodies from hitting me which I was quite grateful for as it was even more crowded up by the stage. He has us take a right over towards the pier, where a majority of the crowd dissipates. And then I’m able to see David, Dwayne, and Marko sitting on their bikes. Marko is the first to see us, and his eyes light up as he sees Paul. His eyes drift over to me, and I can see his eyebrows raise slightly. 

Slipping away from my side I watch as Paul bounces over to Marko, leaning his forehead to bump Marko’s in a way that I could only describe as affectionate. “Look who I found out there.” Paul announces, and Dwayne and David’s eyes meet mine. Dwayne gives me a warm smile, one I can reciprocate weakly as David just gives me a smirk. 

“And what are you doing here?” David asks, a puff of smoke escaping his lips as he speaks. 

God please don’t let me embarrass myself again. 

All four of them laughed at something, and I was hoping it wasn’t me. I could feel my cheeks heat up once again. “Go on sweets, tell them what you told me.” Paul pushes and I groan not knowing how to phrase my sentence better. 

“I was just…kinda wanting to get to know you guys better…if you didn’t mind. My coworker said I should steer clear of you guys but I just…I don’t know I want to make my own judgements and decisions.” I say squeezing my hands together. Surely I must look like an absolute fool right now. They’re gonna laugh at me, before sending me away like the clown I am.

Again they all laugh and I try to brace myself for their words. “Well…isn’t that something.” David says throwing the cigarette butt on the ground. “I must say, I’m quite flattered you seeked us out. Not many people like us, but I assume you already knew that.” It’s hard to maintain eye contact with him for long. Shuffling in place I look anywhere but at him. “Say, have you ever been to Hudson's bluff?” He asks. 

I shake my head, “No. Haven’t heard of it til now. Is it close by?” puzzled by his words, I’m not sure what he’s getting at. 

He smirks, leaning forward on his bike. “Sure, it’s close enough. Want to come check it out?” They’re all grinning at me now, that same dangerous look beneath their eyes. I should say no. I should turn around and leave. But something in my gut tells me to trust them, that I can trust them. And maybe I’m going insane, but my curiosity peaked.

“Sure.” I say, looking between them all I asked, “Who am I riding with? I’ve never been on a bike before.” 

“You can ride with Dwayne. He’s the…safer driver out of all of us. Or if you want, you can ride with me. I’ll keep you safe,” He says, holding out his hand. Again, if I was in my right mind I would turn away. I would never talk to these guys again. I should leave, go back home and continue my mundane little life. But there was this pull to these four that I couldn’t describe. I needed to know what it was. If my parents knew what I was doing, I’m sure they’d be rolling over dead any second.

Placing my hand in David’s, my voice is slightly shaky, “Just don’t kill me. I do enjoy being alive.” Paul and Marko holler at that, Dwayne giving a small chuckle. 

“Don’t worry, I keep my promises. You’ll be safe with me. Now hop on and hold tight.” He scooches forward so there’s more room for me. Swinging my leg over I adjust myself before wrapping my arms around his waist. He revs the engine several times and then we’re speeding down the beach, the others following closely behind. 

Dear god, what have I gotten myself into?

[abbyromanoff]

MOTHER NATURES TEARS AND FEARS

PAIRINGS: Little!Wanda Maximoff x Mommy!reader

WORD COUNT: 1647

WARNINGS: angst, comfort, little spaces, usage of mommy/momma in a non sexual way, thunder, lightning, harsh rain, oral fixation, lactation (not really tho), think that’s all :)

This is inspired by the tornado warnings we keep having in my town sooooo :)

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!!

Sounds of thunder flashed through your ears along with the harsh rain, it didn’t scare you, but the woman in your arms disagreed. She didn’t like loud noises, it brought back memories she wished to never remember. You knew of her fear, even if she tried to hide it to her best ability.

She was embarrassed to say that she, a twenty-one-year-old woman, was scared of mother nature’s tears and screams. You weren’t, so why should she?

“You ready for bed, angel?” It was nearly fifteen minutes past her bedtime and, while you usually wouldn’t let her do such a thing, you knew having her cuddled up in your arms with her favorite movie playing calmed her down in such situations. Her eyes were locked on the window where she could see puddles forming along with strikes of bright light. She jumped, holding her stuffed bear closer to her chest.

“Wanda?” Your calling of her name caught her attention, causing her to whip her head in your direction.

“You ready for sleepy time?” You repeated, receiving a shy nod after moments of silence. She crawled to the end of the couch and raised her arms, giving you free roam to grasp onto her waist and lift her into your arms. Her legs simultaneously wrapped around your hips as she used one hand to hold your shoulder while the other loosely held onto the bear. You kept your hold on her bottom, securing her weight as she bounced ever-so-slight with each step you took.

“Would you like to sleep in my bed tonight?” You asked when settling her back down on the ground, tossing through her sets of pajamas until she stopped you on one of them. It had little seahorses with a pink background, and the words spelling “Sea you in the AM”, never failed to make her giggle. The shorts were a light blue and also adorned the little creatures on them.

“No, I’m okay.” She bit her lix anxiously, only to replace it soon after with her thumb as she suckled on the skin. You took a few steps and found yourself towering over her, giving her a hand to help her off the floor.

“Hey, stop that. Let me get you your paci, okay?” She nodded and, when your vision wasn’t rested on her, she quivered with fear from the loud, rippling noise that felt as though they were bursting through the walls.

“Here you go, baby.” You gave her a warm smile as her lips wrapped around the object, watching as it bobbed back and forth in her mouth.

You removed her current clothes and replaced them with the colorful set before helping her brush her teeth, praising her every few minutes for the small act. The softness you gave her almost made her forget about the one thing that had been haunting her all day, that was until you were getting ready to leave.

“Are you sure you don’t want to spend the night with me?” You asked when tucking her in, the pink comforter hiding the soft blanket underneath.

“I’m a big girl, mommy, I’ll be okay.” You removed the pacifier to let her speak, smiling to yourself at her soft-spoken words. You handed her the same stuffed animal she had been holding onto all day, brushing the small bit of hair that was blocking her face and getting small giggles to erupt from her mouth.

“Oh, does that tickle, hm?” She thrashed around as you continued your actions, this time on other parts of her body. She tried pushing your hands away but failed due to your overpowering strength.

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop.” You announced after a minute or two of this. She let out rushed breaths with an occasional chuckle still leaving her.

“Remember, I’m right next door if you get scared-”

“I’m not scared!”

“I know, I know, you’re a big girl, you don’t get scared. But, still, you’ll come to me if you need me?” You stuck out your pinky finger which she latched onto with her own, giving a toothy grin when you kissed your interlaced fingers.

“Alright then. Sweet dreams, my love, sleep well.” You traveled your peck to her forehead and did the same to her bear, Raspberry. It was a silly name, really, but Wanda loved it to death. She brought it everywhere, not caring for the judgemental stares in public.

“And goodnight, Raspberry, sweet dreams.” You turned on the night light that was plugged into the wall right next to her bedside table, causing little stars to shine on the ceiling. You turned off the lamp and exited with a blown kiss sent her way, she acted as though she caught it and brought it close to her heart. Then, she plummeted into darkness, the scary sounds from outdoors hadn’t stopped yet and weren’t going to for the next few hours.

“It’s okay, Raspberry, Mommy said it won’t get us, we’re safe.” She jumped once again when the noise seemed to get closer, her breath quickening as her heartbeat felt as though it was in a race. She gulped fearfully, pulling the blankets closer to her face as if it would block out the fear. But it failed to do so.

“It won’t get us from here, we’re safe.” She repeated the words you told her only hours ago. The more she was alone the more she found herself falling into a deep headspace. She felt cloudy, but it was as if the clouds were grey and had bolts of lighting coming from them. She curled her knees into her chest, forgetting the paci you left for her on the nightstand and sucking on her thumb. It was a bad habit of hers that she never seemed to let go of, one that you tried to ease her out of.

Eventually, after what felt like an eternity of sitting in her bed, crying and whimpering, hoping for it all to end, she gave in. She stood up on shaky legs, not caring to put on her fuzzy slippers as she rushed to your room, nearly tripping over herself before she knocked hurriedly on your door. She felt as though her chest was closing in on her, which only caused her to cry out more.

You were half asleep when you heard the noise, rushing out of bed as you instantly knew who it was. You opened the door right as she was about to knock again, your eyes locking with her sorrowful ones. She raced into your arms and you let her, rubbing her back softly as you shushed her softly.

“Shh, you’re okay, Mommy’s here.”

“M-Mommy?” She hiccuped, feeling your watchful gaze fall onto hers as you leaned back.

“That’s right, Mommy’s right here, you’re safe now.” She stuffed her head onto your shoulder, using her palm to wipe her tears as shame filled her.

“‘M sorry, Mommy, I thought I was a b-big girl.” You sat her down with you on the bed, letting her crawl onto your lap without complaint.

“Hey, don’t apologize, I understand. I’m not mad at you, okay?” She nodded, still not completely believing you.

“You’re such a brave and strong little girl, I’m so proud of you, baby.” You ran the pad of your thumb across her cheek soothingly, tears of your own starting to pool in your eyes as you listened to her whimpers.

“‘M so scared.” She mumbled, clawing at your back in order to keep you close. You kissed the side of her neck that was left uncovered, cooing softly as her hiccups continued. You patted her back as she bounced gently on your lap, causing a small yawn to tumble from her lips.

“I know, princess, I’m so sorry Mommy wasn’t there to protect you.” You knew she wanted to prove that she was able to do such things on her own and that she could keep herself safe, which was why you let her be and didn’t protest when she asked to sleep in her own bed. But you still felt a pang of roaming guilt, like you hadn’t done enough to keep her safe. All you ever wanted was to protect her from harm, yet you failed at doing so.

“C’mon, let’s get you into bed.” You laid her down softly, her body once again cuddling close into yours the moment you joined her.

“Please hold me, Momma.” You were already planning to do so before she asked. You placed one hand on her thigh that found itself resting over your waist, your free arm going to her back where you drew small shapes. Her stuffed animal was still clamped tightly in her hold, the fur pressing against your skin in feather-like touches.

Wanda played with the strap to your tank top, giving you a questioning look to which you nodded in response. She pulled down the clothing, your breasts freeing themselves and being hit by the cold air. She smiled giddily to herself before wrapping her lips around your hardened bud, feeling your fingertips that were placed on her back start to scratch softly at her scalp.

“Be careful with your teeth, baby.” You muttered when they brushed against your nipple, making a small gasp erupt out of you.

You noticed the tiredness in her eyes start to grow more as sounds drowned out, her only focus being on her caregiver. She felt blurry, and before she knew it, her eyes were closing for the last time that night. You grinned to yourself as she finally fell into a slumber, grabbing your phone as you played soft white sounds to cause calmness to float through her, even in her sleep.

“Goodnight, angel.” You kissed her forehead once more.

“Goodnight, Raspberry.” You kissed its forehead and sighed, letting your eyes close as you sunk into a deep resting state.

[diabolikangel158]

Can you do vox x reader? Where you and vox were fighting (idk what about I am not creative) and he eventually starts to see he's wrong (RARE VOX MOMENT??/j) and he feels bad, so he wants to make you feel good, because his pride won't let him utter those two words. 'I'm sorry' is what this whole ordeal is trying to point to. But his pride won't let him utter those words.

"It Starts with Sorry"... Not for Vox Though

Vox x Reader 

Disclaimers: Not a healthy relationship, some abusive themes but nothing crazy (at least not to me). Small insinuation that there is some superficial Valentino x Reader.

Summary: Vox doesn’t know how to apologize, though it seems he has his own way of doing so?

God, I hate this. You cast an anxious glance at your phone as you ride along in the limo with the one and only Velvette. Your dresses were so extravagant that Velvette demanded that Vox and Valentino take a different limo. In truth, you were thankful for it, seeing as Vox was cross with you. You begin to review the messages that Vox and you had exchanged earlier while you were out in the city. You wonder if he is still angry with you; the thought of him being mad only made you more anxious. 

Vox: Hey, dollface, you’re going to be here in time for the party right?

Y/N: Voxy, I thought you said I didn’t have to go to this one? Because I went to the last one and was good? You know I’m not much for parties, we go to so many social events already. 

Vox: No, I didn’t. 

Y/N: I’m…sure you did, babe.

Vox: Babe, why would I ever say that? You know I need my girl at every event. <3

Y/N: Yes, but you said since I was being so good I could skip the next one, see? *send a screenshot as proof*

Vox: …Are you fucking kidding me? You are the most ungrateful bitch I’ve ever met. I could have anyone on my arm, but I choose you. Do you know how stupid you sound right now??!

Y/n: Okay, okay, I’m coming, I’ll get dressed. 

Vox: You better.

You sigh, scrolling through the messages. The shapewear underneath your unnecessarily expensive dress makes you sweat even more than you already were due to your nerves. Besides you, Velvette side-eyes you before rolling her eyes, whipping out a hand held fan and fanning your face with it. “Are you an idiot?! You better not stain that dress, it’s one of my prized collection pieces after all.” 

You nod quickly, muttering a soft apology. You take the fan from her and fan yourself. You take a deep breath in, blowing it out slowly. The car stops and the driver steps out to open the door for you and Velvette. Valentino and Vox are outside with showy smiles. Velvette exits before you with a confidence that you wish you had. 

You place the fan Velvette gave you on the car seat and step outside. The lights from the multitude of flashing lights nearly blind you. Vox grabs onto your arm and has you hold onto him. You use your other hand to tug uncomfortably at your dress, trying to find some relief from the tightness. “Stop touching it.” Vox tells you with a stern voice, but in contrast wears a dazzling smile. You do as he says. 

Vox leads you through the cameras and over to reporters. You bite your lip, uncomfortable. Vox feels your subconscious tug at his arm and he looks at you with a tilt of his head. “Vox, maybe I could go inside? I just spoke to reporters last week, so I’m sure they have nothing to ask me.” Vox’s smile widens, but there is strong annoyance in his eyes as he looks down at you. You know what that look means. Who do you think you are? Shut the fuck up and just look pretty. “Th-though of course, I suppose I should make myself available?” He nods, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear. 

A microphone is shoved in your face. “Miss Y/n how is living at the Vee tower going? How does it feel to date the TV overlord?!”

Another one shoves the first microphone to the side. “Fuck off, I was here first Samantha. Y/n, are you wearing one of Velvette’s new dresses for summer? How does it feel to be so lucky to be close to some of the most powerful and influential Overlords in Hell?”

You open your mouth to try and reply to one question, when you are interrupted. “Do you even have your own thing going? Or are you gonna leech off the Vee’s forever?” Your eyes widen at that. “How does Vox stand you hanging off his arm all the time?!”

Vox responds smoothly, so used to the barrage of questions. He chuckles, “It just can’t be helped, Y/n loves accompanying me to these events and I just love indulging her.” He grins at the cameras, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and holding you closer. You don’t get a chance to reply to anything as Vox pulls you away and the reporters go to harass Valentino instead. 

You spend most of the night with Vox, but no words are exchanged between the two of you. He just wants you there for eye candy while he talks up other powerful figures. You are told repeatedly by other demons and overlords how fortunate you are to be loved by Vox, and doted on by the Vee’s. Valentino loved those comments the best, whispering about how he’d wish Vox would let him “dote” on you more. 

You sigh, “May I please go to the bathroom? I need a break.” Vox gives you and irked nod, but he releases his hold of your arm. You choose not to comment on it and rush off to the bathroom. It’s empty, thankfully, because the first thing you do is run into the first stall and dry-heave into the toilet, absolutely overstimulated. You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand and breathe heavily. Fuck. Walking over to the sink, you turn on the water and try to swish the taste of vomit off your tongue. 

Your phone buzzes with a notification; you don’t have to look to know who it’s from. 

Vox: Car’s outside. You can go. See you at home. 

You don’t need to be told twice. You plaster on your fake smile again and exit the bathroom, navigating your way through throngs of demons. You slip out and get inside the car, instructing the driver to take you back to the Vee Tower. 

*****

Back at the Vee Tower, you wash up after the night, finally taking off the uncomfortable dress. You lay down in the bed that you and Vox share, pulling the covers to your chin. You feel a bit like a failure, recounting Vox’s harsh words. Perhaps you weren’t good enough for him. Why did he stay with you? You feel tears threatening to shed. 

Just then, Vox enters the room and looks at you hiding under the covers. He sits on the end of the bed by your feet, gazing at you; you don’t look back. In all honesty, you hope that he just thinks you're asleep and will leave you alone. 

Vox was told by Velvette that you had been throwing up in the bathroom on your “break.” He knew that you didn’t really like the spotlight that much, and you definitely weren’t used to it. Plus, although the many rude questions thrown at you don’t seem terrible to him, he’s a showman at the end of the day. You however… were a bit more sensitive. It was one of the things like liked about you. He rubs your knee, hoping it will bring you some hint of comfort. It also makes him feel better about himself, too, easing the weird guilt he is unused to feeling. 

His mouth, on the contrary, says, “Oh c’mon it wasn’t even that bad. Why do you always have to be such a damn crybaby.” Yeah, because you being so overly stimulated that you vomited was totally not a big deal. He gets up and leaves for a moment. When he returns, you hear him set some items on your bedside night stand. You open your eyes slightly to see a glass of water, along with crackers, apple sauce, and nausea medication. Randomly, there is a singular rose, too. You look up at him and he sighs. “It’s seriously not even a big deal, you’re so fucking dramatic. I don’t know why I keep around.” He leans down and kisses the side of your forehead before leaving to change out of his suit. 

If you could answer the reporter’s question from earlier about how it feels to date the TV overlord… you’d say it feels pretty…confusing.