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yoongelectric · 1 day ago

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Drunk in love — LN4

~ believe when i say that you’ll know once you taste it

• part 1

pairing: lando norris x fem!reader

summary: the night where you and lando just wanted to forget about each other but ended up getting closer than ever

genre: smut, angst, fluff, friends to lovers

warnings: curse words, jealousy, alcohol consumption, unprotected sex, p in v, fingering, oral sex, breeding kink

notes: english isn’t my first language so i’m sorry ig there’s any mistakes. i might have gotten a little excited with the lenght of this fic, part 2 will be shorter

The music plays loudly within the walls of your room as you and your best friend get ready for the night. After hours and hours of trying to convince you, Olivia had finally made it, not that you weren't a party girl, in fact you adored it, the feeling of being drunk, the people, the dancing, the music, flirting with strangers, you used to spend the whole week looking forward to go to your favorite club but for months now all those good times have lost all meaning when all you can see is your best friend going from girl to girl every weekend without any type of remorse. And for months you’ve been trying to do the same thing to stop thinking about him, only achieving the opposite.

You can’t blame those girls, in fact, you understand them perfectly, not just because Lando is rich and famous, that's the least important thing really, but in any crowd he's always the first man you see, he's handsome, attractive, even magnetic, the kind of man no girl would ever say no to, and you were painfully aware of that, because of course, you were one of those girls who could never say no to him.

That's what bothers you the most, because no matter how many dates you go on, how many strangers you flirt or sleep with, how much time you go without seeing him or speaking to him, you always notice how they are not him, how they don't have his laugh, his eyes, his charisma, his charm, his way of hugging you, his way of making you forget everything and everyone, no matter how good they are in bed, none of them can make you feel the warmth that you feel when he simply holds your hand or rests his hand on your waist to help you walk through a room full of people, and it's already getting tiring to hope that at some point that's going to change.

While you finish applying the sluttiest red lipstick you have, and check that you are not missing anything in your purse, you look at your outfit in the mirror, a little black dress that leaves nothing to the imagination, actually, if you are not careful you can flash anyone at any moment, you feel attractive, you know you look pretty, but you also know that neither this dress, nor the makeup you spent so much time on, nor your perfect hair will be enough for Lando to look at you the way you want.

Olivia seems to notice the sad expression on your face, "y/n don't make that face, if Lando is stupid enough to not make a move on you then he doesn't deserve you to spend another second thinking about him" she says handing me a shot of vodka that I swallow without hesitation

“Do you think I'm in love with him because I want to, Olivia? If it was up to me I would only see him as the friend he sees in me, that's what he wants, but it seems I can't.”

“if you want to believe that he sees you only as a friend then go on, i think he’s just a pussy” Olivia shouts from the door as I grab my keys and follow her.

Lando stared at his glass of whiskey, lost in thought, looking at the time on his watch from time to time thinking about when you would arrive, he was dying to see you, he didn't know if he was imagining it but he had this feeling that you’d been avoiding him all week, you didn't answer his messages, and if he called you, you quickly ended the conversation saying that you were busy, you had always been very bad at lying, who can be busy on a Saturday morning? He knew that his doubts would be solved at any moment and oh how he wished it was just his head fucking with him.

In the distance he saw a girl who he could have sworn was you, but after looking at her for a few seconds he slapped himself internally for having mistaken you for someone else, how could you be that girl? She doesn't have your grace, nor the light that seems to follow you everywhere making you look untouchable, the people around her don't turn around automatically and he doesn't feel that comfort in his heart when looking at her, but what's the point anyway? None of them make him feel anything like that, none of them are like you and he knows it.

He knows that you are the girl for him, he has known it since he won his first race and as soon as he crossed the finish line the first thing he thought was if you would be proud of him. He knows that he will probably love you all his life and that without you his destiny is to wait for someone to entertain him enough to not think about you all the time. He knows how sad that is and he's not sure if he can continue like this for much more, but he can't condemn you to what a relationship with him means, he barely has time for himself and how could he try to have a relationship with you if he can't give you all the time you deserve? How can he try to be with you if it means you have to be moving from one side of the world to the other all the time or not see him as often as he would like?

If everything was different he would have jumped right into your arms months ago, but you deserve much more than what he can give you.

Max's voice brings him out of his thoughts telling him something painfully true "so you’re already looking for a girl who looks like Y/N to spend the night?" How much more time can he spend trying to find you in another person? probably a lot less than he thinks.

He was hypnotized, watching you dance with your friends, running your hands over your body, laughing and looking so sexy, since you arrived he couldn't stop looking at you, a feeling between how bothered he was by that sinful dress that hugged your body in all the right places and the concern for the cold greeting he had received, he was gripping his glass tightly and using all his will not to grab you by the waist and pull you against him, he wanted to ask you the reason behind your actions, how were you able to stay away from him, when it felt impossible for him to do that.

It was then that he saw him, tall, with a bright smile, just the type of boy you've always liked, he approached you and spoke to you so carefree, calm, without the all the nerves Lando felt every time he had to get too close to you. He doesn't know what the boy said to you that made your laugh echo throughout all the VIP area but he was sure as hell it couldn't be that funny, how could your eyes shine like that looking at someone that two seconds ago you didn't know existed? how could you look at a stranger the way Lando had always wanted for you to look at him? oh how oblivious he was

As soon as he tried to get up to stop the situation, he felt the hand of the same girl he had seen earlier on his shoulder and as some type of divine signal it was then that he came to his senses. If he really loved you, he should let you live your own life.

Back to where you were, the nameless boy grinded against you while grabbing your hip and the two of you danced to the rhythm of the music, he was cute, sure, he was nice and funny, but in your drunken state your head seemed to betray you making you think about Lando over and over again, each song seemed to be talking about him, about you, about the two of you, and just when you were trying to get away from the boy it occurred to you to look at him, At this point you should be used to it, glass in hand, a girl on his lap, kissing so passionately it made you want to cry.

You were fucking sick of it, sick of the looks of pity from all your friends, of not being able to get mad at the girl, or Lando, you could only be mad at yourself for having these stupid feelings and not being able to settle for his friendship that at the end of the day was the best thing that had ever happened to you, and you really don't know how or when but you were glued to a wall kissing the guy, he was grabbing your ass tightly and biting your lip while you were pulling his hair trying to understand the situation you found yourself in, with far too many drinks on you, the jealousy, shame and unreciprocated feelings you felt for your best friend, you decided to lose yourself in the touch of the boy you had just met.

When the girl moved away from him to take a breath he saw you, your hair messy, your dress rolled up and that son of a bitch's hands grabbing you just like he would like to do, he didn't even have the decency to take you somewhere more private, but again, who was he to get involved in what you were doing if he knew that he couldn't give you what you deserved anyway, so he grabbed the girl's face and continued kissing her, but he couldn't stop thinking about you, the weight of the girl on his lap made him wish it was you, Lando wanted you to grab his hair just like you did with the boy you were kissing, he knew he could make you feel much better than him, he would take you somewhere empty because only he should be the only one to see you this way, he would grab you by the waist and pull you against him, he would kiss you with so much feelings that you wouldn't doubt his love for you, the erection that grew underneath his pants made him imagine how good you would feel rubbing yourself on him and he was sure it would feel like heaven listening to you moaning his name when he went down to kiss your neck.

“fuck, y/n just like that, baby” he didn't expect that it was going to be your name the one that escaped his lips.

The look of confusion and shock from the girl who was sitting on his lap brought him back to reality, and he doesn't know if he was suddenly sober or if all the alcohol that was in his system hit him at once but his body, his mind and all his senses told him to look for y/n, so apologizing to the girl and getting her off of him, he began to look for his love.

He looked around but there was no sign of her, her friends were still dancing in the same place but she and the boy he had seen her with earlier had disappeared, he asked Max but he told him that he had lost sight of them ago. For a while, when he saw Olivia, he realized that if anyone could help him, it was her.

he got into the crowd of dancing girls trying to get her friend's attention, "Olivia, hey, where did y/n go?" He said when the girl finally saw him

"Lando, I think you should leave her alone, she's busy" your friend knew that today you just needed to forget about him.

"Did she leave with him? Just tell me if she's still here, please" Lando was desperate, he feared that if he didn't find you now he would never have the courage to confess his feelings to you again

Olivia finally gave up "she just told me she was going to his house, I don't think they're gone yet" she took a deep breath and added "she's trying to forget you, I know deep down you know that, don't do anything if you know you're gonna hurt her, Lando."

"Thank you, i promise i will not" he said before running to the club’s door

You don't know why you agreed to this, but you found yourself walking towards the car of the boy you just met today, do you really want this? you don't know, in your head you just think that maybe this is it, maybe he can make you forget about Lando, in fact, you should be happy, he is cute, hot, funny, attentive and respectful, why aren't you happy? And why do you feel so relieved when you feel a hand on your shoulder stopping you?

"y/n, please don't go with him" you turn around when you hear the familiar voice and you feel your stomach do a thousand flips when you see the person you've been thinking about all night.

You pause to look at him before speaking, he looks agitated, in a hurry even, as if he was going to run out of time, but even in that state he is the most attractive man you have ever seen, some buttons on his shirt are undone showing his chest, as if the slightly see-through fabric wasn't enough, his tanned skin glowing under the night lights and you don't understand why he has to come out of nowhere now to ruin anyone else for you.

"Lando, is everything okay?" Your voice denotes concern and Lando just wants to have you in his arms.

"lov- sorry, y/n" he corrected himself "don't go with him, I need to talk to you, please, I need you to give me a chance"

"what are you talking about?" Your words came out like a whisper, you had to be misunderstanding him, or not?

"Sorry mate, this isn't your fault, but I love her, she's the love of my life, I can't let her go."

Suddenly you remembered the boy who was there with you, you looked over your shoulder, you only saw confusion in his gaze and you felt sorry for how he had ended up in this situation just because of bad luck, you shared a look and the boy understood that he had to leave.

"Lando, if this is some kind of joke or you're just doing it because that girl rejected you, I want you to know that it's not funny."

Lando felt a pang of pain in his chest, what had he been doing wrong all this time for you to believe him capable of playing with you like that?

"this isn’t a joke, y/n, I'm tired of pretending that I don't just love you, baby." he said taking a few steps until he was right in front of you "I don't know what I did for you to not want to see me or talk to me, but let me fix it, even if you don't feel the same way, I need you to treat me like before, I miss you love"

"I was just trying to forget you, Lando" the tears began to fall down your face and you didn't know if you felt shame, joy, anger or relief, if he felt the same, why had he made you see him with all those girls before? Why hadn't he spoken sooner? Why hadn't you spoken sooner?

you felt his lips on yours, and for the second time that night you were kissing someone, but this time everything made sense, you could only think about lando, you were right where you wanted to be, you were aware of his touch in every place where his body made contact with yours and time seemed to have stopped, you were addicted to the feeling of finally having him all to yourself and you didn't want to stop even to take a breath or move to another place.

He felt the same way and with all his strength he moved away just enough to mumble "let's get out of here."

The car ride to your house felt like a fever dream, you wanted to talk to each other but you had so many ideas in your head that you didn't know what to say first, you wanted to touch each other but you didn't want to spend another minute without being in a place just for the you two, so all you did was share looks of love and happy giggles

You two were finally home and it seemed like you were glued to each other, the heat in the room was becoming more and more unbearable as you kissed, grabbed and caressed each other, thanks to muscle memory you managed to get to your room and Lando just pushed you to the bed before climbing into it straddling you

"So pretty, baby, I can't believe I finally have you" he said kissing your neck and lifting your dress asking permission to take it off.

You nodded silently and Lando wasted no time in removing the garment that covered your body. He began to run kisses and licks over your shoulders, collarbones, arms and stomach until he left you desperate and trembling beneath him. You knew he was enjoying it but you had waited so long for this that you couldn't stand him not touching you right where you wanted, losing your patience you reached behind your back to unclasp your bra.

“nuh huh, that's my job, precious, let me enjoy you just the way I want” He said kissing, sucking and biting your neck, his words sending shivers to the wet areas of your skin.

"Lando, please, you're going to have plenty of time to enjoy me in every way you want, just fuck me already, I can't wait." As you spoke you couldn't help but arch your back when lando gently bit your collarbone making a moan escape your mouth.

you heard him laugh cockily "plenty of time? does that mean we're going on a second date?" and just when you thought about slapping him for his bad joke you felt him cup your pussy relieving half of the tension you felt.

He lived to please you and if you wanted to get to the point that's what he would do, he quickly got rid of your bra attacking one of your nipples with his tongue, circling the muscle over it before taking it all in his mouth, moaning softly into it, after a while he moved to your other nipple, repeating his actions, but paying attention to the previous one with his big, rough, veiny hands, you were a moaning mess, and every once in a while you had to remind yourself that this was really happening and it wasn't a product of your imagination.

"mmh Lando that feels so good, please don't stop" you said trying to reach his member to touch it over his clothes, but you instantly felt him pin your arms over your head

"not yet, y/n tonight is all about you, let me make you feel good" he said moving down to your hips leaving kisses right on the waistline of your panties

He stopped to look at the lace panties you were wearing, black and all see-through, they were sexy but at the same time elegant and Lando felt like he would faint right there.

"these are so pretty, it's a shame i have to take them off," he said, taking your underwear on each side and removing it in one go.

It was at that moment that he saw you naked for the first time, you looked so hot but also innocent, the look of desire and at the same time love in your eyes could not be compared to anything that Lando had seen before, and he couldn't believe he had been missing on this for so long.

He ran a hand over your wet center and hissed at the sensation.

"baby, please do something, I'm going crazy" you begged, pushing your hips against his hand, trying to get more friction.

"well, since you're in such a hurry, god, we have to work on your patience, love." Without warning, Lando put a finger inside your hole and at the same time went down to lick your clit, while leaving his finger still inside you, he licked your bundle of nerves from side to side, up and down and circling his tongue against you, the euphoria you felt at that moment didn’t allow you to speak, the only thing that came out of your mouth were desperate breaths and moans of his name repeatedly. Every time you dared to look between your legs and saw your friend's piercing eyes you felt yourself embarrassingly quick getting closer to the edge.

"Lando, I need more, please, I want to cum."

so you felt a second finger inside you, he began to move them at a soft and strong pace, curving them inside you in the most delicious way, it didn't take long for you to finish all over his mouth and fingers, with a scream of his name and pulling him against you by his hair, he continued sucking your clit until you pushed his head due to overstimulation.

“You taste so good, my love, please let me do it again” he said kissing your inner thighs trying to open your legs again.

"another time, babe, I want you to fuck me, I need to feel you" you said pulling him from his shirt, you were feeling a little self conscious as you noticed how he was fully dressed and you were naked in front of him, so you unbuttoned his pants begging him to take them off, he, always willing to please you, pulled them down at the same time with his boxers, letting his dick come out freely in front of your face.

None of all the dirty nights you spent thinking about him could prepare you for what was in front of your eyes, his member, the perfect length, thick and veiny, with his tip all wet, seemed to beg you to put it in your mouth.

And that’s what you did, kneeling on the bed in front of him, licking the tip vaguely and without wasting much time you started sucking on it. Lando grabbed your hair in a ponytail and allowed himself to enjoy the heat of your mouth.

You wanted to make him feel good, it was the only thing you could think at that moment, and when you looked up and saw his face contorted with pleasure, his head thrown back and tasted his salty precum you could only moan in satisfaction, the entire moment made you so wet again and your hole clenched around nothing.

Against all his desire and will, Lando removed his dick from your mouth, it felt so good, but he needed to fuck you, he needed to feel your wet walls around him, so once again he pushed you on the bed and put your legs on his shoulders.

"Are you ready?" The question felt like a joke, you had been ready for months.

"yes, so ready, please fuck me"

You felt his member press against your pussy and the wetness made it so easy for him to slide in all at once.

Both of you moaned in unison as you felt that you were finally where you belong, Lando stayed still for a moment to let you get used to the size and to take a breathe so he wouldn’t cum on the spot.

When he saw your desperate face and felt how you pushed your hips against him, Lando began to fuck you without mercy, hand on your neck choking you just the way you like it, grunts and moans escaping from his mouth, turning you on more and more.

"baby, please, I'm so close, you fuck me so so good, I love your dick so much, please" you didn't know what you were saying, you just knew that you didn't want anyone but him.

Lando couldn't help but laugh at your state, but he wasn't much better than you, feeling his orgasm getting closer, he removed his hand from your neck and began to draw circles on your clit, his thrusts were erratic and the trembling in his legs let you know that he wasn't going to last much longer.

"land-o, baby, cum inside, I need you to fill me" and with those simple words the two of you climaxed at the same time, white dots filled your vision and you could swear it was the longest orgasm you’ve ever had, when you came back to your senses, your friend removed his member from your hole and turned your positions so that you were on top of him.

"We should clean up" you said, ignoring your tiredness, trying to be responsible.

"Let's stay like this for a while, I need to hug you, hold you close" despite his tired tone you could hear him talking to you with a smile.

A few minutes passed and just when Lando was about to fall asleep, your words brought him out of his state.

"You know we'll have to talk about this tomorrow, right?"

And just like that, he remembered each and every reason why he hadn't done this before.

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris smut #lando norris imagine #lando norris scenarios #ln4 x reader #ln4 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 #f1 fic #f1 imagine

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oceantornadoo · 2 days ago

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ch9 something borrowed something blue (mafia!price x simon's sister!reader)

tw: kidnapping. yeah...

masterlist | next

You feel like a teenager again.

Your first date is full of nerves and hormones, shy eye contact in the warm light of the candlelight dinner. That is, the candlelight dinner John organized in the back of a London bookstore you’d never explored, shut down early for the public so you could have a private dinner date. He takes you on a shopping spree after, setting you loose on the quiet store with no restrictions on time or money. You pick a few books to be sent back to your library in the country (what an extraordinary thought to have!), and a few for home. Home. Over the past weeks, almost two months, you now think of John’s home as yours. His bed as yours, his life entwined with yours.

“I would say you’re spoiling me too much, but honestly, you owe me.” You mention as John shadows your book search, his body heat searing into yours. He laughs, waves of sounds settling into your skin. “Glad y’r stayin’ true t’ y’r beliefs, sweetheart.” You nudge him with your hip and he takes advantage of your proximity, pulling you closer into the cage of his body. You grab the book you were perusing and tug it to your chest on instinct. “Hey! I said nothing sexual.” John nuzzles your neck, hands wrapping around your waist to rub at the pudge of your stomach. “‘S not sexual, jus’ comfort.” You melt like chocolate, conforming to the contours of his body.

“Tell me ya hate me.”

He whispers into the space between your ear and shoulder. You shudder at his words, pushing back into him to get closer. “I’m not answering that.” It’s the best you can give him without showing your cards. He hums in approval, sending a shock of electricity to your core. “Guess I’ll hav’ t’ take ya out again.” You turn in his arms, the book between you like a shield. “Someone’s presumptuous. Don’t you know it’s bad luck to plan a second date during the first?” He shrugs, the grays in his beard glinting in the lamplight. “Y’r a sure thing, sweetheart.” You gasp in faux-outrage, hitting him square in the chest with the book you’re holding. He barely moves, not having the decency to look hurt. If anything, he stalks closer with eyes like a tiger, a look at you like you’re prey. “Do tha’ again.”

That night, his words echo in your head. A little flower of insecurity grows in a hidden crevice of your heart. “Y’r a sure thing, sweetheart.” The memory of his smile, joking and lighthearted in the moment, warps into a smirk in your mind. In the bed you’re lying in, you inch away from John’s sleeping body as it replays over and over. Would all of this be happening if you weren’t married? How much of his hunger for you is fed by the fact that you’re the closest option? That you’re easy, letting him get you off within a few weeks of knowing each other. Sleep only comes hours later, when you’ve wrought your brain of all its thinking power.

John wakes you with sweet words and intimate cuddles, holding you against him as he tells you about all the places he wants to take you. Your earlier doubts, screaming and rioting, fade away into a whisper, letting his words wash over you. You forget about it.

Mostly.

Your own bookstore is getting along well. You’ve hired another assistant, a man named Arthur who was a referral of Phil’s. The extra help goes a long way, as he’s experienced enough to install the cafe you wanted in the front. In the next month, you order inventory and thrift furniture. You venture out to cafes to inquire about catering and post job listings for a cafe worker and bookseller.

On the weeknights you go on dates, John insists on picking you up from the store. It’s only one or two nights a week, where he’s free enough to do a late dinner or a drive around town. John shows London to you in bits and pieces, shyly peeling back the film of mystery that covers the town. You go to hole-in-the-walls, cuisines ranging from Jamaican to Indian to traditional British fare. The owners always seem to know him, giving him the best seats of the house and refusing to take his card. You’re starting to understand how much of an influence he holds, how the caring husband behind closed doors is also the feared mafia boss outside of them. It’s like you’re learning him anew, sharing childhood memories and terrible twenties stories every date. It’s a fantasy of what life would’ve been like if you’d met him naturally.

Speaking of his frightfulness, he’s not friendly with either of your assistants, but after a stern talking to, he becomes begrudgingly polite. He speaks in monosyllables and grunts, only offering you a full English conversation. Despite yourself, you find it a little endearing. This non-jealousy looks good on him and makes him handsier in car rides.

“Y’ look so fuckin’ good in these.” He’s talking about the overalls you thrifted, which appalled Gaz when he stopped by for breakfast this morning. You insisted they’re practical for the work you’re doing: going through newly delivered inventory and moving furniture around to your liking. “Thought you liked me in fancy things.” You murmur. He tells your driver to keep driving, then rolls up the partition to give you some privacy. John yanks you into his lap, a tight fit between his bulk and the ceiling of the car. It forces you to curl in tighter, your head in the crook of his shoulder. “Think y’re wearin’ these to our next gala.” Our. It grows roots and you hope it's poisonous enough to kill that flower of insecurity. He pulls you closer, and even through the denim of your pants, you can feel him grow hard under you. “John…” He kisses your exposed neck, then licks at the dust that’s settled on your skin. It’s so primal, like he’s reduced to base instincts when he’s with you. “We’re not doin’ anythin’. Jus’ want ya t’ know wha’ ya do t’ me.” He bites your earlobe, then soothes it with a lick. “So this has nothing to do with my all-male employee force?” He growls and you giggle at his annoyance. John pulls you back a bit so you’re off his cock, smirking when you groan at the loss. “Nah. Jus’ reminding you wha’ y’ve got at home.” You plant a quick kiss on his lips, then roll off and into the seat next to him. Despite the glaring safety violation, you tuck your legs under you and rest your knee on his thigh. Your hand runs through his beard, then moves up to smooth the wrinkles on his forehead. “Consider me reminded.” He kisses your palm near his face. “Now take me to dinner, I’m starving.”

Weeks later, you’re home late from your favorite date yet. A private movie screening of a drama film you’ve been talking about for weeks. The set-up was thoughtful and sweet, with your favorite candies and popcorn set up with a comfy blanket. However, the movie was darker than you thought, with a primary focus on a father and his strained relationship with his daughter. Two hours of watching them on screen left you raw and bloody, silent on the car ride back home.

“Feelin’ ok?” You nod. He squeezes your thigh, but when he tries to keep his hand there, you cross your legs so it falls off. He seems to get the message, stroking the outside of your thigh before pulling his hand back.

When you get home, Gaz is at your kitchen table. You nod to him in greeting, then try to bypass him in favor of a hot shower, but he stands up and blocks your path. “We need to talk, ma’am.” His eyes flick up to John standing behind you. “Sir, you need to hear this.”

Gaz lays out building plans and tax documents that blur in front of you. Your tired brain can’t comprehend what he’s saying, something about “encroachment” and “buying up buildings.” John goes into work mode, shrugging off his jacket and sitting down to take a closer look.

“Am I really needed here? I’m sorry, I’m just tired.” John’s eyes are warm but Gaz’s aren’t, his smooth skin marred by a frown. “Shepherd's bought a building a block from your bookstore. From what I can tell, it’s empty, but it’s a safety risk. It’s got a basement that we can’t get our eyes on.” You drag a hand down your face, clearly not equipped for this conversation. “Look, it’s empty, right? So just keep eyes on it and up my number of guards. I bought my bookstore under a ghost LLC, so the only way he’ll know is if he sees me. I’ll start using the back entrance.” Gaz’s eyes flit to John’s, waiting for his opinion. You groan at being dismissed so clearly.

“You know what, you guys figure this out. I’m going to bed.”

You leave before they can say anything. A hot shower calls your name, but the water is abrasive instead of calming. The same thing happens with your skincare, sitting too heavy for comfort on your face. When you’re ready for bed, and John’s still not there, you pop a few melatonin and go to sleep, eager to delay any sort of conversation.

He wakes you by brushing your shoulder gently. It’s clear the sun’s been up for a while, a rare sleep in. “Hi, baby.” You grumble at his words, turning to smother your face in your pillow. He kisses your shoulder, where his hand was, and stays there for a second, dark blue eyes tracking yours. “We need to talk.” His tone switches from sweet to serious, enough of a change to warrant you turning back to squint at him. “No.” He did not expect that, eyebrows raising. “No to whatever suggestion you’re going to make about delaying my opening or shutting down my bookstore.” You push off the covers, rising to get ready, but he yanks your arm and tugs you under him.

“It’s not fuckin’ safe.” He growls out. You push against him, trying for once. He uses his strength against you, pushing you further into the mattress. “Then make it safer. I’m not giving this up. There’s not even a clear threat yet.” You spit. Your tactical knowledge of Simon’s security strategy come to the forefront of your mind. “I’m puttin’ Gaz on yer team.” You roll your eyes, finally pushing off him to go use the bathroom. He follows you like a hound, not stopping when you try to shut the door in his face. “You’re not putting Gaz on my team. He would hate it. I don’t need a babysitter.” John doesn’t trust you, doesn’t trust the fact that you’ve been in this life for decades and know how to analyze a threat. John doesn’t respond as you pee defiantly, even when you throw a roll of toilet paper at his head to get him to leave. It’s only when you’re done washing your hands that he responds.

“It’s gettin’ more violent everyday, sweetheart. I can’t be biased when I make this call. Might need to send you t’ the country.” You can’t even compute his sentence. “What, send me away like you did 20 years ago?” That was not what you wanted to say. That was not how you wanted this conversation to be, you washing your face in your shared bathroom while he stares at you through the mirror. “Spit it out, darlin’. ‘S clear you want to.” You don’t comment on how he’s never called you darling and how evil he is to whip it out in that deep accent of his now. You towel off your face, then whirl around to face him, exposed in so many ways. “I think it’s pretty clear. You send me away when I complicate things. You did it when I was a kid and you’re doing it now. I’m a fucking problem to you, John.” He runs a hand through his beard, agitated.

“Tha’ why you hate me? ‘Cuz I told yer old man t’ send you away when I was 16 and green in the gills, not knowin’ a damn thing?” You frown, turning back to rub lotion on your face. You take your time, rubbing the excess into your wrists. John tracks the movement with squinted eyes. “I know you were young, John, but I was too.” John pulls you into him by the fabric of your t-shirt (his t-shirt). He settles his hands on your waist, ensuring eye contact before speaking. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry f’ bein’ an idiot when I was young an’ not thinkin’ about the little girl’s life I was destroyin’.” Well. That was the apology you’d been chasing for months, if not years. So why weren’t you satisfied?

“Thank you. But it doesn’t change what you’re trying to do now.” You stand and look at each other, silent. His hands don’t move and neither do yours, akimbo at your sides. “‘M not sendin’ you away. I’m keepin’ ya safe.” He murmurs. You shake your head in disagreement. “London is my home, John. The bookstore is my life. Where would you even send me?” He looks away, uncharacteristically unsure. “The country.” You roll your eyes. “You said that. I’m asking where.” He grips your hips hard, startling you. “The library.” You bark out a laugh. “The library? What, am I gonna sleep on the couch and just haunt the place.” A realization dawns on you. “No way.”

“Baby-”

“You own it?!”

“It was my first real estate purchase.”

“When were you going to tell me? You just, what, invented an old, dying friend?”

He almost looks embarrassed, the blush of his cheeks hidden in parts by his beard. “I didn’t want ya to feel trapped and you hated me too much then to take it freely. Yer mad I did somethin’ nice?” You pull away out of his grip, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “I am trapped, John. No matter how I feel about you now, I didn’t pick this marriage. On top of that, you lied. You won’t let me go on trips with you, you’re trying to push these security decisions on me, and I can’t even tell if you like me for me or my proximity. I need to go to work before I say something I’ll regret.” You dodge his reach easily, shucking on the nearest nice clothes you can find before heading downstairs to find Terrance. The clothes end up being your recently worn jeans and one of his button-ups, white for a change. It smells like him, pine and musk and man. You sniff the collar discreetly when Terrance is arranging for the car. Quick steps thud down the stairs and when you turn he’s there in a suit, unruffled and polished. You dart out the front door as quickly as possible, but because you’re weak and shameful, you turn back right before you get into the car. You mouth ‘bye’, brows knitted in frustration, and a sliver of betraying warmth hits your heart as he mouths ‘bye’ back.

Kyle is going to ask for a raise next week. He’s been working twelve-hour days, tearing through Shepherd's finances non-stop. He’s finally gotten to Shepherd’s employee list, unofficial, of course. Bored with the bland names, he switches over to his tabs on the bookstore. In his perusal, a name catches his eye. Phillip Sorth. Where has he seen that before?

Kyle goes through the man’s file. Pretty standard, worked at a bar before this. Kyle didn’t create this report, handing it off to a person on his team. So he’s disappointed when he clicks on the bar name, The General, and is returned with a blank page. Whoever made this is getting fucking fired.

The bar closed down three years ago. Which is odd, because Phil’s resume says he only stopped working there six months ago. When Kyle runs the address, alarm bells go off. It’s one of Shepherd’s.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He dials Price’s phone, which goes straight to voicemail. Shit. While he waits, Kyle runs another test and sure enough, Phil’s NI number links to a Phillip Graves, not Sorth. Which, of course, is a name on Shepherd’s fucking list. A top name, actually. The man’s a high-ranking spy.

Kyle dials Terrance, who also doesn’t pick up. He bursts out of the security room and ensures his keys are in his pockets before heading out the door. “Shut this shit down. We’re at Level 5.” He barks out to the men guarding the door, emulating his Captain. They immediately start talking in their earpieces and out of the corner of his eye, Kyle sees his men in the park close in on the Castle. Good. Someone needs to protect this place while he tracks down a fucking rat. Before someone harms the new angel of the Castle.

“Arthur, do you mind putting these away? I think my arms are going numb.” He takes the box from your hands with ease, winking as he walks away. You breathe out a sigh of relief, then trek to find Phil. He was finalizing the checkout desk, but now he’s nowhere to be seen. You really want to get his opinion on your ideas for wall decor. You head back to the office, thinking he might be there, but pause right before you walk in. Phil’s on the phone, and the walls are thin enough that you can hear his entire conversation.

“Yessir, copy that.” Who’s he calling sir? It’s like how Gaz addresses John, deferent and loyal. “Affirmative. Later today. We’ll get the van ready and-”, the rest of what he says is muffled, like he’s turned away from the door. Something isn’t right.

That’s when you realize you haven’t seen Terrance in over thirty minutes. He went to the bathroom, which he always tells you about, making you feel like a third-grade teacher, but he hasn’t come back. You dig in your pocket for your phone, then swear when you remember you left it on the cafe counter. When you turn to go find it, there’s a wall in front of you. A human wall. Arthur.

“Sorry ‘bout this.” You try to run but a strong grip captures your arms, holding you firmly in place. From the corner of your eye you see Phil, holding you tight as you struggle against him. “John will find you. My brother will find you. You’re going to-”, except you can’t tell him what he’s going to regret, as Arthur holds a rag over your mouth and everything goes dark.

Sorry this took so long! This semester has been crazy. Im thinking 3-4 more chapters and we’ll be done! I hope nothing happens to reader…

@heretoreadanddrinktea

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@lumi-kalyke

@gimmeabreak1

313 notes · View notes

beah388love · 9 hours ago

Text

Double Trouble

Full Masterlist Lando Masterlist

Pairing: Dad!Lando x Fem!Reader

Summary: The twins first Grand Prix and their first time on a plane

Warnings: Swearing,mentions of sick (if I’ve missed any please tell me!!)

“Lan…! Lan..!” You said as you poked his sleeping form, he looked so cute and comfy but you had to wake him up since you had to get to the airport in exactly three hours. “Lando!” You said loudly as you shoved him and he turned his face into his pillow with a groan “mh…”

“Lando Norris! If you don’t wake up in the next-“ you huffed but was cut off by him pulling you down on top of him “shh..m’ sleepin...” he groaned with a yawn, “lando let me up! We need to get ready to leave!” You huffed annoyed as you struggled to get out of his grasp, hitting his arm that was wrapped around your stomach.

“I’m not gonna let go.” he said but it came out muffled from his face being nuzzled into your hair.

You sighed in defeat “please lan..we need to leaveee” you huffed as you tried to get up again but failed.

Lando sucked in a breath “fineee” he groaned placing a kiss on your cheek, “c’mon sleepyhead” you grinned as you stood up, pulling him up with you.

“Are the boys awake?” He asked groggily and you nodded with a smile “yeah they’re awake, we need to keep them awake until the airport so they sleep on the plane..hopefully” you said a sigh at the end,

“Okay…lets go sort all the boys clothes out first” lando said as he put his clothes on and you nodded, you both walked together to the boys room and smiled when you saw them awake in their cots.

“Babe? Where are the bags?” Lando asked as he looked around their bedroom, “they’re in the wardrobe!” You said from the hallway and he nodded to himself as he grabbed the matching baby blue bags, “alright..okay..so clothes, hats, socks and…nappies” lando said as he counted with his fingers, also grabbing each thing and folding them into the bag.

“Alright I’m gonna go breastfeed them…don’t forget their dummies!” You said but lando didn’t hear,

“Babe? I’ve got their bags ready, and I packed our suitcase! Anything else we need?” Lando asked as he placed the bags down by the front door.

“Yeah just little bits to add but other than that..no” you said as you thought about your list, “okay…I’ll grab that and then I’ll help you get the boys in the car” he said and you nodded with a smile as you picked the boys up in your arms, pulling your top down to breastfeed them.

“Thanks mate” lando said to the cab driver as he helped him gets the bags in the boot, you leaned over Archie and grabbed his seatbelt strapping it, and smiled when he began giggling at you. “What’s so funny huh?” You cooed making him giggle more.

You sat in the middle of their car seats, making sure to keep them awake so they’d have their nap on the plane but that didn’t go too well..

Lando paid the cab driver before grabbing the bags and walking with you inside, you held both the boys on each hip, Alfie resting his head on your shoulder tiredly while Archie drooled onto his now dirty onesie.

You stood in cue to weigh your bags, “I hate these stupid cues” lando grumbled annoyed as he looked at his phone for the time.

“Hey excuse me ma’am! I need to go now!” A man asked the worker and she sighed “sir you’ll have to wait in cue.”

“No! I need to go now! My planes leaving in like ten minutes!” The man said and she huffed “alright you can go through” she said as she unclipped the line stopper,

“That’s bullshit.” You muttered and lando grinned at you “sh..his plane is leaving in ten” lando hushed you as you made an angry face, he smirked at your impatience.

“Whatever. I think he should wait like the rest of us.” You huffed making him bite back a laugh.

“Well- weren’t not exactly normal babe. We have a private jet- anyway c’mon that’s us” he grinned as you walked with him, lifting up Alfie on your hip as he was slipping a bit. “Lan? Did you bring their teddies?” You asked him and he nodded “yeah they’re in their bags” he said as he grabbed your suitcase and wrapped the ticket around the handle.

You and lando waited by the jet, “want me to take one of them?” Lando asked and you nodded, “just while we’re waiting, when we go up the stairs you can hold the bags yeah?” You asked and he nodded.

Lando took Archie off of you and held him in his arms also resting him on his hip, “hey buddy, here you go” lando smiled as he handed him his little highland cow teddy, Archie smiled and held it tightly.

“So when can they sleep?” Lando asked you when he saw Archie passed out in his arms, “uh- around now is fine” you said and he sighed in relief.

Lando handed you Archie back when you had to board, Archie started crying from his beauty sleep being disturbed, “Sh..Sh..” you rocked him and then Alfie began to cry too because Archie was crying.

“Not you too…” You sighed as you rocked them both, lando felt bad he felt so useless, and lately the boys had grown attached to you so whenever he tried to take them off you to give you a break they would just cry non-stop.

“Hey” Oscar smiled when he saw you two, “hey osc” you smiled tiredly as you sat down at the window seat, lando chucked your bags under your seats and quickly sat down next to you, “Here, I’ll take one” lando said as he took Alfie off of you, Alfie cried since he was so tired. Lando rubbed his hand up and down his back as he laid his head on his shoulder, “Double trouble huh?” Oscar grinned and lando laughed “you could say that”

“I can help if you want?” Oscar said with a smile and lando shook his head “we’ll be fine thanks though”

“Their first Grand Prix then huh?” Max piped up from the other seat and lando nodded “yep…I even bought them hats” lando grinned like a child as he showed Oscar and Max the number 4 hats he got them, and his own so he can match.

“Oh my god, your so whipped” Max laughed and lando rolled his eyes playfully “duh? Have you seen them?!” He smiled as he placed a kiss on Alfie’s head, he could feel his breathing slow down.

“Uh- lan?” You said and he looked over to you “yeah?”

“Alfie just threw up…” you said and Lando screwed his face up “lovely…” lan half smiled as he held Alfie up and grabbed a babywipe, wiping his face whilst you wiped landos shoulder and back, “here” you said placing Alfie’s muslin on his shoulder to hopefully stop any more sick getting on him.

Archie cried and stirred in your arms, his tiredness catching up with him, “lan? Where are the dummies?” You asked as you looked through their bags. “Shit…” lando said letting his head hit the seat.

“Oh great…” you said as Archie cried in your arms. You shushed him and rocked him until he thankfully fell asleep again.

Liked by McLaren,landonorris,lewishamilton and 2,489,380 others

ynusername: Monaco baby!!! The boys first Grand Prix! 🧡💛 We’re cheering for you baby! p.s you’d lose if I was racing 😘

User1: LMAO THE END OF THE CAPTION IS CRUEL

User2: My fav wag 💞

User3: SHES SO REAL

landonorris: Thanks for the support babe

Maxverstappen: she got u good bro

liked by ynusername

landonorris: who’s side are u on?!

User6: they act like a married couple ( I luv em tho)

User7: LITERALLY LMAO

User4: Anyone else notice the matching hats or just me 🫣

liked by landonorris

User5: omg same-

User6: Can we talk about how big they are already?!

User7: IKR LIKE YESTERDAY THEY WERE BABIES?!

User4: OMG LANDO LIKED MY COMMENT

landonorris: @ynusername see told u they’d notice the hats

ynusername: 🙄

landonorris: no need for the attitude.

landonorris added to their story

User1: AHAISBEHAKA I have no one to talk to abt this 😭

User2: OMG- ADORABLE

ynusername: yeah it was until Lando got thrown up on 🤣

Landonorris: babe- You said we’d keep that between us?!

ynusername: …hehe

You and lando left all your bags in your hotel room and used your spare day walking around Monaco, it was quite early but the paparazzi were following you like crazy.

“Omg! This top is GORGEOUS” you gasped as you held it up for lando to look at, waiting for his judgement but it never came he just placed it in the bag along with the other one in a different colour that he liked, you smiled as you pushed the buggy walking around the looking for anything else.

“You want anything?” You asked him and he shook his head “Uh- no we can go and pay baby” he smiled as he sneaked his arm around your waist making you smirk.

You payed and put the bag under the buggy, you left the shops and immediately there were already paparazzi waiting outside the shops, you scrunched your brows from the bright flashing camera lights and instinctively pulled the buggy back, lando quickly stood in front of you and held out his arm to keep them away from you “hey? Give us some space-” Lando said angrily as he walked with you back to the hotel but they didn’t let up, three of them followed you all the way back.

“Hey dude?! Stop.” Lando said angrily “lan.” You shrieked when a man approached you, he grabbed your arm and pulled you to the ground flashing photos of you and the boys, the flashing lights blinding you and scaring the boys awake, they began crying and you quickly ran over to lando by the buggy “Step the fuck away from them!” Lando shouted and the man scurried off, lando took a breath, “c’mon let’s go to our room” he said sternly as he held your hand, you nodded lifting the hood on your hoodie up along with landos for him whilst lando pulled the buggy covers up and lifted the boys hoods up too.

Lando took a minute to walk into your shared bedroom to calm down, you sighed as you picked up the boys taking them to cuddle on the sofa together.

“Baby?” Lando called out when he didn’t see you in the kitchen or hallway “in here!” You said and he smiled when he saw you cuddled up with the twins, “mind if I join?” He asked with a smile and you shook your head shuffling over making room for him.

“I’m sorry..I hate that you have to deal with that..” lando said and you tutted “lando Norris. Do not apologise. It’s not your fault people suck.” You said smiling at the end making him give you a sad smile, “I love you” he said placing a kiss on your forehead, “all of you” he said placing a kiss on each of the boys heads too.

Y/n Y/l/n seen with hers and lando Norris’s twin boys

User1: Bro can’t you guys leave them alone?! They literally are new first time parents they don’t need or want cameras in their faces!

User2: literally! Have you seen the paparazzi photo of lando shouting and you can see one of their twins crying in the background?!

User3: omg! Yes I saw that it was awful.

User1: NO?! What the fuck.

User4: UHM- Can we talk abt the middle picture?! She’s literally crying?!

User5: I honestly feel so bad for her - lando tried to help which made it even more sad

User6: paparazzi should be illegal.

User7: Y’all she’s fine. All they did was take a photo

User8: The man taking the photo literally grabbed her arm and Yanked her?!

User9: have y’all seen the video on twitter?!

User10: what video?

User11: a fan took it from afar, the man taking pics literally grabbed y/n and yanked her arm And then took photos of their twins WITH THE FLASH ON.

Race day.

You wore your baby carrier so you could have both the boys on your front, you decided it would be better for you so they was with you the whole time and was always in your view, you walked into landos drivers room as you waited for him, he was talking to Oscar about something.

Lando laughed as oscar made a joke until something or someone caught his attention. The same man from yesterday, the one who grabbed you and took photos of you all. And he was still taking photos of lando.

Lando grinned and turned around and stuck his middle finger up at the man before walking inside with Oscar, “who’s that?” Oscar asked confused “this dickhead decided to grab y/n by the arm and push her onto the ground just to get photos of the boys, which also woke them up and scared the shit out of em.” Lando explained angrily and Oscar bit his lip awkwardly “I uh- I saw the video this morning” Oscar said and lando furrowed his brows confused “what video?”

Oscar showed him the video on his phone from a random fan that just happened to be there and film it all, “honestly, it gets out of hand sometimes..I mean all i wanted was one day out with my family y’know? Is that too much to ask for?” Lando huffed and Oscar nodded with him understandingly.

“I know mate but you did all you could do, you can see in the video” he said trying to sound comforting and lando nodded “yeah I know…anyway..I’ll see you in a bit I’m gonna go find y/n” lando said before jogging off to his drivers room.

“Y/n?” Lando called out as he opened his driver room door and smiled when he saw you sat on the sofa feeding the boys, “You okay?” He asked as he sat down next to you, “yeah, the boys were hungry and I wanted some privacy” you explained as you breastfed them, they were so cuteeee you could just squish there rosy cheeks all day.

Photo of lando Norris flipping off paparazzi.

User1: and it was deserved.

User2: YESSSS LANDO

User3: damn- bit much no?

User4: NO ITS NOT?! The guy literally harassed y/n

“So before qualifying starts, how do you feel?” The interviewer asked lando and he breathed in “uh- I feel good, y’know the car felt good during practice but qualifying will tell” lando said smiling at the end making the lady laugh.

“Of course yeah. So uh- we saw you flipped a cameraman off over there?” The lady said sticking the mic out to lando, “oh- uh yeah I did..before you jump to any conclusions that was the man that photobombed my family this morning so he deserved it” lando smirked and the lady nodded “yes i saw the video..”

“Yeah, y/n’s okay though and the boys are perfectly fine thankfully, they’re just over there actually” lando smiled as the cameraman panned over to you, you laughed as you waved both the boys hands.

Lando couldn’t hide hide massive smile at your cuteness “Your boys are adorable!” The lady aawed and lando smiled “their so cute and tiny”

“Alright, well we’ll let you go back to them now” she smiled and lando thanked her for talking him before jogging over to you. “How are my favourite people?”

You smile and look down to the boys “we’re good aren’t we?” You smile when they both start smiling and making happy baby noises.

“Daddy” Alfie coos and hold his hand out, grabbing landos racesuit material on his arm in a tight baby grip.

Lando chuckled and smiled warmly at his adorable son.

You look to Lando “how long till the race starts?” Lando thought for a moment “uh- about..half an hour maybe?” You nodded to him “you wanna go to the garage then?”

Lando nodded as he took your hand and began walking with you to the garage.

You heard Archie whine and squirm in the baby carrier “eugghh- down- mummy” he slurs and whines. Kicking his legs as he did.

You sigh “hang on bubba- let me get you down.” You said as you pull him out the baby carrier and steady him on the floor. Making sure he’s balanced before letting go.

“Stay near mummy and daddy yeah?” You say stern and he nods before walking in his little shoes in front of us whilst you and Lando walk closely behind.

Alfie also starts whining when he sees his brother walking “mummy-“ he starts and you sigh

“Yeah- you wanna get down too huh?” You grin and place him down as well as you did with Archie.

The boys walk together and they get distracted very easily but stay close to you and Lando.

That was until you got to the garage.

You were holding Alfie’s hand and swore to yourself when you saw Alfie toddling off towards the garage.

“Lan-“ you start but Lando cuts you off “on it.” He says as he jogs behind Alfie and swiftly lifts him up from under his arms.

“Where do you think you’rere going mh?” Lando grins when Alfie squeals a cheeky laugh. Lando can’t help his light laugh “you’re a little road runner.” Lando chuckles as he brings him back to where you and Archie were.

As we headed towards the garage I could hear the loud noises of the tools etc. “lan? Can you get the boys a pair of those noose cancelling headphones please?” I ask and he nods, grabbing two pairs.

I smile as I watch Lando put them on the boys.

Archie knots his brows confused when he can’t hear anything because of the headphones. I smile and gently ruffle his hair.

Lando chuckles “they look so confused” I giggle and nod as we see their confused faces.

Just then, Oscar and Lily walk over, Lily happily squeals when she sees the boys “ah! They’re so cuteeee!”

I smile and watch the boys toddle off with Lando to the garage. “I got em matching outfits again”

Lily nods with a smile “how do you tell them apart?” She asks as she sees them both toddle off, they look the exact same.

“Well- it’s easy for me and lan to tell. But at the begin when they wet born, we had to keep their hospital tags on” I giggle and Lily chuckles lightly “I can’t tell them apart”

I smile as I watch Lando with the boys “I can tell because Alfie has a slimmer face..and Archie has a mole on his neck”

Lando smiles and lifts Alfie and Archie up in his arms. He looks over to you “babe?” He calls over for you ur attention, you look over “yeah?”

Lando grins “can I put the boys in the car?” He asks with a cheeky grin. You sigh and nod “watch them.”

Lando nods and happily puts the boys in his f1 car. The boys squeal happily and sit in it.

Archie goes to press some buttons but thankfully Lando stops him. “Ah- no..we don’t press those buddy.”

Oscar chuckles as he watches “I still need to see them in the race suits you bought.”

Lando grins “they look adorable.” He says excitedly at the thought.

Oscar shakes his head amused “you’re wrapped around their fingers.”

Lando nods and sighs “the worst thing is, is that I don’t care.” He smiles as he watches the boys in his car.

*omg it’s been ages and this has been in my drafts for SO LONGGGG - I still need to write so many others but this is what y’all get for now 🤭😭*

169 notes · View notes

sarcasm-is-my-form-of-attack · 17 hours ago

Text

Lessons in Restraint

Viktor x reader

After losing a bet to your partner, you end up having to deal with the consequences of your actions, no matter how much you beg.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, dom/sub dynamics, bondage

A/N: wrote this in a fugue state at 4am and finished it on public transit, I’m a god of creation lol. Not proofread at all but I like it. This is so horny and debauched have fun. Reblogs and comments make my day (I read every single one)

“You know, it’s incredibly satisfying to see you like this after talking such a big game.” His voice is lilting and thick and like a haunting melody that weaves its way into your brain and doesn’t leave, no matter how hard you try to expel it.

The smirk is audible and as you stare up at this man from your place on the floor, rage bubbles deep within you, flavoring the already cultivated desire that has been driving your instincts.

A bet. A stupid, idiotic, ridiculous bet was all it took to end up here: naked, bound, and kneeling before Viktor as if he were your king.

The bet had been simple.

“You have no self control.” He’d mocked you one late night in the lab as you lay draped over him on the small beat to hell couch they’d brought in for you. Basking in the post-sex glow, you laughed airily, your mind still a bit foggy and blissed out.

“Neither do you. Can you blame me? I’m a girl who knows what she wants.” You punctuated your statement by snuggling further into him.

A chuckle, then “Patience is a virtue. God you’re probably not even able to last a week without needing me.” His hands tracing lazy patterns on your back, sending shivers down your spine.

“Is that a challenge?” Your eyes narrowed at him from your place on his chest.

“Perhaps.”

He’d been right of course. You didn’t last a week without needing him, folding just on the morning of day 6, practically begging him to fuck you, touch you, anything at all.

The smirk that split his face was so vile and hypnotizing that you couldn’t take your eyes off of it. Of course, he obliged and fucked you so good you couldn’t walk for a day.

“You need lessons in restraint, humility. And seeing as you lost the bet…”

Which led you to right now.

Two in the morning.

Completely alone in his lab.

At his mercy.

The soft rope around your wrists and ankles caresses your skin, knots only tightening as you squirm. Wrist to wrist, ankle to ankle, and just for an added kick in the mouth, wrist to ankle. Knees spread and back arched as Viktor sat in his desk chair, which from this angle looked much more like a throne on which an emperor sat.

Alas, it would not be the benevolent kind.

“What, no witty comeback or retort for me? Are you all out of fight? Or are you just learning to mind your tongue?” he leans forward, forehead almost touching yours but not quite. He hasn’t touched you in over an hour. Just lingering stares or fabric or even the occasional breath of air. Nothing else.

“Or…” he leans close to yours ear, “you’re just being quiet to avoid the shame?” White hot fear washes over you. It’s so hot it’s freezing and you want to simultaneously worm away from the sensation and also surrender to it.

“Pity. This is a lesson in humility. Obedience. Discipline. Trust.” His voice softens at the last word and there’s a brief moment where his gaze shifts, full of adoration and love and awe. It doesn’t last long though; enough for you to smile back, and give a quick confirmation that ‘yes you’re ok and want to keep going’.

“Well? Nothing at all?” He sits back up, towering over you and you cannot help but avert your gaze underneath his stare. It pins you to the wall like a pretty butterfly in a shadowbox.

“Unh-unh…” he tuts disapprovingly and it’s all the warning before the end up his cane is tipping your chin back up, allowing you to properly look at him.

“None of that. So rude, absolutely no manners. You should be ashamed of yourself.” He stares down the length of his cane at you, eyes molten and burning as he speaks.

“I…” but there’s nothing you can really say for yourself now. He’s right. As he usually is. You are ashamed.

“No? Not a thing in that pretty little head of yours is there?” He removes his cane from your chin and lets it fall to the floor, hands folding on his lap as he ponders what to do with you.

Eyes rove over your twitching body, no doubt a puddle of wetness below you dripping from your aching core. It’s pathetic and humiliating and some sick fucked up part of you relishes in it. He knows it too, head tilting as he looks down.

“Oh, poor thing. You’re just drenched aren’t you?” the mockery in his voice stirs a frustrated whimper out of you, pulls it from your chest like one would pull a hook from the stomach of fish who’d swallowed it. Bloody and violent and unable to do a damn thing about it.

“Such a pretty sound.” It’s not to you, just musing to himself. You whine again, roll your hips as you stare up at him, hoping he’ll take pity on you. Touch you.

“Viktor…you’re being cruel…” your voice is fucked out and ragged, despite the lack of stimulation. He’s brought you this close with barely anything but his voice and a few lengths of rope. A feat, really. He’ll brag about it for the rest of your life.

“Am I? Or are you just not prepared to accept that your actions have consequences?”

“I just wanna touch you…” you crane your neck up at him, staying rooted to your spot but reaching. He is a planet and you a mere comet pulled into his gravitational field, circling.

He thinks for a moment, you can see the gears working in his head.

“You want to cum?” No one, nor any amount of liquor could get you to admit how earnestly you nodded your head at his words, how desperately. With a quick move you weren’t expecting, he bends forward in his seat and wraps a pale hand around your throat. The sensation is near overwhelming as he hasn’t touched you in an hour, fingers now digging into the delicate column holding up your head.

“I think…” he tilts your head this way and that, ever the scientist, taking in every observation, every bead of sweat, every tremble, “…I have a compromise that will suffice.”

With a bit of a gentler hand, he pulls you forwards by your neck, his own rolling chair moving to meet you as you shuffle forward. He pulls you closer, closer, until his knee is flush with your sternum, and you’re situated directly over his shoe.

Fear washes over you, curls its fingers into your hair, your spine, your stomach.

“You want to cum so bad?” He jerks up his foot at the end of his sentence, bumping it against your clit in a way that has you nearly doubling over and letting out a strangled yelp.

“Go ahead, sweet thing.” Your neck is still in his grip, so you know he can feel the way your pulse races forward like an engine.

“B-but-“ a protest forms in your mouth but it’s squeezed out of you as his hand tightens.

“I’m sorry, but you’re not making the decisions around here. And that wasn’t a request. Do it.” His tone is icy and piercing and it scares you in a way that urges you forward, letting the humiliation continue to worm its way into your synapses.

He lets go, a little roughly, and straightens his back, looking down at you as if you were an amusing pet.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you shut your eyes briefly and take a deep breath, pushing it out rather forcefully.

The first roll of your hips is torturous. It’s friction you haven’t had in hours, so sensitive and swollen that the leather and lace send fireworks through you.

But it’s something, and you’ve been so patient, so agonizingly horny that you’ll take anything. And he knows that.

And the motherfucker is laughing.

“Oh…wow…I didn’t think you’d actually do it. Just so eager to please and be pleased aren’t you?” A deceptively gentle hand caresses your cheek and you lean into it instinctively, the sweetness juxtaposed to his cruel treatment making your head spin a bit.

“What base creatures we humans are. Willing to throw pride and dignity aside all for a biological need to fuck each other like rabbits. All for the pleasure of climax. Slaves to our hormones; all the blood being sent to your swollen cunt, none left for your brain.” The last bit is a coo, a mocking pity that weighs heavy on your sensation addled mind. His hand on your cheek is a cool balm on your feverish skin, tracing your cheekbone in reverence as the words he spits tear at you.

You move faster, chasing the high that is slowly but surely building in the lowest part of your stomach. It’s a dull burn that exponentially increases in intensity and heat. Every word he says is a stoke to the catching blaze.

A low rumble of appreciation stirs from Viktor’s chest, and the pride that swells in you as you look up at his appraising gaze pushes much of the embarrassment aside. The joy of approval, the delicious praise that a mere look can bestow; you need it like you’ve never needed anything before.

“Oh you are splendid, sweet thing. Such a good girl, so eager to please.” His hand drifts to your open mouth, fingers dancing along the pad of your lip. With no other instruction, you lean forward and take two of his fingers into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the digits in such a lewd manner that the workers of the brothels would blush.

There’s a small intake of breath from your Viktor, a brief slip of composure as he stares at you in awe. His eyes sparkle with want and need and adoration.

“You…are perfect, so wonderful for me.” His other hand cradles your head as his fingers push in deeper, pressing down on your tongue slightly. You double your efforts at his sweet words, spurred on with renewed vigor. For me. Yes. For him, always for him, his, his, his, his.

“Oh you liked that did you? You like when I tell you how good you’re doing for me? How beautiful you look there on your knees, fingers in your mouth, truly you put fine art to shame. You were made for this, perfect, so perfect.” He muses, and the heat in your core grows hotter with every breath he takes to speak. Your poor hips are stuttering, so desperately close to cumming all over his pristine leather shoes. Moans spill forth around his fingers as you lose your grip on sanity, oh but what a sweet descent into madness it is.

“Go on. Go on darling, cum. That’s it, make a mess of yourself, that’s it, good girl, oh…” he marvels at you as you contract into him, the force of your orgasm pulling a strangled scream from your lungs. It’s wave after wave of white hot ecstasy, and your hips undulate a few more times as you ride it out, milking it for every last drop. His hand retracts from your mouth and he holds you, cupping your face in his hands.

“Wonderful darling, you did wonderful, absolutely perfect. So good, so good for me.” Fingers card through your hair, hands guiding your head to rest on his knee. You’re grateful for the support, it’s getting awful hard to keep your head up. The thigh of his good leg is sturdy and strong from baring the brunt of his weight. It’s grounding beneath you.

Slowly but surely, your breathing evens out, his hands petting your hair reverentially, holding you as you come down from your high. You stay like that for a while, until your knees start to hurt and your wrists ache, causing you to whimper at the newly forming pain.

“Are you alright lásko? Can I move you?” He whispers, hands never stopping his movements. You nod against his leg, weak but sure.

“M’good. Just go slow.” Your voice is hoarse and crackly from exhaustion. He bends down, kisses your head, and picks it up off of his thigh. With a twist, he adjust his chair so it’s a bit lower to the ground, closer to you. He reaches around, kissing your shoulder as he does so, and unties the ropes around your wrists and ankles. They fall away, and your arms instinctively reach for him.

“Soon, miláčku. Can you stand?”

“Mhm.” He grips your hands, helping you to your feet, and you’re alright for the most part, just a bit shaky. Viktor reaches for his cane, stands, and leads you by the hand to the couch in the corner of the lab. The leather is cool against your skin as he situates you in the cushions.

“I’ll be right back, just getting you water. Wrap the blanket around you alright?” You nod, his voice your tether to reality. In mere moments he’s back with water in hand, and not long after he’s sitting next to you, pressing you into his good side, arm an anchor over your shoulders. You curl instinctively into him, clutching the blanket around yourself.

“Are you sure you’re ok, sweet thing?”

“I’m sure Viktor.” Your voice has returned to you, as has most of your facilities. The weight of Viktor against you helps immensely.

“Wow.”

“Wow indeed.” He knocks his head against yours, and you laugh, snuggling further into him.

“I can’t say I didn’t know you had it in you, because you’re the most in control person I’ve ever met, but holy shit Vik.” The smell of his cologne and shampoo washes over you as you nestle closer into his neck, so ineffably him.

His cheek is pressed to the top of your head as he says , “I hope that is a positive ‘holy shit’.”

“Oh certainly.” You sit up slightly to look him in the eyes, “Vik. That was amazing. I…you were fantastic. It was everything I could’ve wanted.” A dopey smile spreads across your face and you can see the blush forming on his cheeks, the pride swelling in his chest.

“Thank you for trusting me with you.”

“Vik I trust you with my life.” You kiss his cheek, and he chuckles, a pretty sound that you wish you’d hear more often. But as the months go by, it’s starting to become a bit more familiar.

“And I trust you with mine.”

“Yeah but I just use that leverage to get you to bed at night so you don’t die of sleep deprivation.” He snorts as he pulls you in closer to him.

“Isn’t it common practice for someone in your position to nap after a scene?”

You laugh, but acquiesce and snuggle into him further, “you’re just deflecting, one day I’ll fix your sleep schedule.” But your eyes are already closing and his hands are playing with your hair.

“Sure, lásko. Sleep well. I love you.”

You smile, though you’re already halfway to sleep, “love you too.”

#viktor x reader #viktor x you #arcane viktor x reader #arcane viktor x you #arcane x reader #arcane x you #arcane #arcane league of legends #viktor arcane #izzy writes

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mrsnishimuraaa · 18 hours ago

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chemistry

PAIRING: riki x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS: who knew a dance collab could create such a sweet bond between two idols?

GENRE: fluff , crack if u squint

this is not proofread (sorry) kind of short and a wee bit rushed but i have other works in the making i promise 😭

being in the idol industry was always going to be stressful why wouldent it be? but your worries almost always flush away when your able to dance. having met so many people that inspired you to get to where you are now enlightened you and encourages you to work hard. having danced ever since a young age and it being something you enjoy makes you love your job that extra bit more, and now you have the opportunity to work with nishimura riki who’s also known for his talent in dancing.

saying your excited is a understatement it’s so much more than that, but at the same time your nervous but you brush it off as you make your way into the HYBE building. the moment you make it upstairs to the practice rooms, your greeted by riki himself bowing and small hello’s fill the room as you both introduce yourselves. he leads you to the practice room where you assume your gonna be spending hours in for the next few weeks preparing for this award show, none the less you really don’t mind. the two of you sit in the middle of the room with a laptop, listening to songs and starting to think about what song your going to be performing. after what felt like a million years of search you had both come to terms with ‘been like this’ by doja cat. as it was already getting late, you decided to meet back in the morning to get a full day of choreographing together.

the following day your met in the same spot, having decided that you both wanted to work independently with each other , meaning there was no staff and no choreographer, just the two of you to figure it out on your own.

hours pass by and you have the basic of it all choreographed now you just have to add all the fine details and peice it all together. “your really a quick learner” riki shoots the complement at you, taking a sip out of his water bottle “ oh thank you, could say the same about you” letting out a breathy laugh. “god it’s so hot in here” you fan yourself as you scope the room for a fan or anything. “i know, hybe’s cooling system is broken at the moment” he laughs at the way you throw yourself onto the floor and sigh at his statement. “is this company not making millions” you sit up and he laughs, taking his hoodie off, leaving him in just a tank top and his baggy jeans.

whilst having your break you both snack and chat, cracking jokes and telling purposeless stories. the two of you have great chemistry not only in dance but in general. and when you get back to practicing the heat really gets to you “can i take my jumper off?” you ask purely just to make sure he’s comfortable with you being half naked “go for it, i would be barely surviving if i were you” he chuckles as he re sets the song back to the start over at the laptop. pulling your jumper over your head and throwing it over to pile with riki’s , leaving you in a provocatively small sports bra and your sweatpants.

riki can’t help but eye your figure down for a moment, admiring your flawless body as you adjust your pants to put them back in their original low rise position. but he quickly shoves those thoughts away when you speak “okay i’m ready” your bubbly giggle makes him smile. the playful side of the both of you starts to peek through as you get more comfortable with each other , but when explaining a small detail of the dance to you that you don’t get ends you up in a position of riki’s hands gently placed on your bare waist as he guides the movement, you watch in the mirror as he corrects your arm movement, yet still keeping his hand on your waist. (safe to say it took a while because you 100% were not focusing on the move at all-)

the ending of the dance finishes with body rolling against eachother, the synchronised movements are so satisfying to look at and especially as his hand snakes to rest on your waist as you move together. the song finishes and he immediately buries his face into your shoulder, hugging your waist as he practically collapses on you. “riki! your heavy” you joke, laughing as you try to scramble away but he only wraps his arms around you tighter, his tall frame encapsulating you.

he spins you to face him and you look up at his face, dark hair sticking to his forehead as his face shines slightly due to the sweat, the heat generated between the two bodies doubles as he brushes your hair behind your ear. “so pretty” he smiles at you and you can feel your cheeks grow redder. he slowly rocks you both side to side, it stifles a giggle from you, causing him to smile at you, god why are you so cute.

you manage to break free from his hold, laying down on the cold floor, he eyes you down whilst smirking “what” you laugh and look at him in question “nothing im just admiring you is that illegal” he jokes, pulling your legs to spin you on the floor, your laugh echoes through the room “help me up” you pretend to lay helpless infront of him, he rolls his eyes and offers his hand to you, as he grips your hand pulling you up, he wraps his arms around you once more. but this time when you go to look up at him he takes the chance and presses a soft kiss against your lips, the suprised yet flustered look on your face as your heart beats like it wants out of your chest. you pull him back into a soft, slow and intimate kiss.

his hands draw circles on your lower back as yours find themselves in his hair, soft and wet kisses being pressed against eachothers mouths as the sound of kissing fills the room. you have to stand on your tippy toes as he’s far to tall compared to you before pulling away to make eye contact with eachother and smile. he presses a kiss to your forehead, the intamacy of the moment immediately recharges your energy, but makes the room a hundred times hotter.

luckily (even after all the distractions) you were able to both go home with an award 2 weeks later, the hard work paying off and fans adoring the interaction of their favourite dancers, begging for more collaborations.

#enhypen #kpop #enhypen thoughts #enhypen niki #nishimura riki #ni ki #enhypen x reader #award #dance #chemistry #hybe labels #hybe #hybe entertainment

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estrellami-1 · 3 days ago

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Stay for Dinner (Stay Forever)

ao3 link

Steve had never been more scared in his life.

He’d been through some things, he thought. Things that changed you as a person, probably. But now he understands why humans are apex predators.

Because he’s being hunted.

He’d started following Steve a few blocks back. He doesn’t have anything on him, pepper spray or a knife. He has keys and fear on his side.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” he chastises himself, blinking tears away and speeding up the tiniest bit. He sees, in the reflection of shop windows across the street, he’s matching Steve’s pace.

Fuck.

He doesn’t know what to do, doesn’t know who to ask for help, when he suddenly sees someone.

He’s an Alpha, Steve can tell right away, even though he’s not as strong-looking as other Alphas. He’s intimidating enough, all leather and chains and wild hair and tattoos, and Steve doesn’t know much about this punk kind of community, but he knows it’s a community, knows this is the safest person he’s gonna find.

He speeds up the tiniest bit more, is practically jogging when he reaches the man. “Baby!” He exclaims, throwing his arms around the man.

The man startles, but seems to catch on quickly, wrapping his own arms around Steve’s waist. “Hey, darlin’,” he says happily, loud enough it carries. “How was your day?”

“Alright,” Steve admits, letting out a little chuckle full of stress.

“Yeah? What made it just alright?” He questions, stepping back to wrap his arm loosely around Steve’s waist, the barest hint of pressure to suggest they keep walking the direction Steve was heading.

Steve thinks, silently, he could fall in love with this man. He’s halfway there based on scent alone.

“Oh, you know.” He keeps his tone light, pretends to look at the man holding him. Actually looks past him, to more shop windows. The man who was following him disappears down a side street, and Steve feels so relieved he nearly collapses.

“Oh, hell,” he breathes out, stepping back and gusting out a sigh. “I’m so sorry, fuck, he was- he was following me, and I wasn’t sure what to do-”

The alpha shushes him. “Hey, hey, hey, you’re okay. I get it, I saw him, and hey, I’ve definitely been in worse situations than a pretty omega throwing themself at me.” His eyes twinkle, inviting Steve in on the joke.

He chuckles a little. “Seriously, thank you so much.” He puts a hand on his chest. His hand is still shaking. “I don’t think I’ve ever been that scared.”

“It’s okay,” he soothes. “I don’t know that either of us want you going anywhere alone right now, though. Do you have someone you can call? I’m sure we can pop into any of these places and you could ask to use their phone.”

Steve feels a whine build in his throat. “I don’t- don’t have anyone, I’m new here, my roommate is my absolute best friend in the world but she’s busy, and anyways she’s half an hour away, and-” his breath catches on the whine, brings it out on the exhale.

“Hey, you’re okay,” he promises. “Would it be okay if I came with you? Or is there a different designation or gender you’d rather escort you? I’m sure we could find someone.”

“No, it’s-” Steve takes a couple of deep breaths. Wills his voice to stop shaking. “It’s fine, you can- if you’re not busy-”

“I’m not,” he confirms. “And I’d love to walk you wherever you’re going.” He pulls back and extends a hand, grinning. “I’m Eddie.”

“Steve,” he gusts out, grasping Eddie’s hand and shaking it. “Seriously, you don’t know how much I appreciate this.”

“It’s fine,” Eddie promises. “My best friend in the entire world is an omega. She’s used me to get away from Alpha creeps so many times, I’ve lost count.” He puts a hand on his chest, bows his head. “And I’d like to formally apologize on behalf of Alphas everywhere. I promise we’re not all creepy knotheads.”

Steve giggles. “I believe you,” he promises. “Thank you. Again. And… thank you for making me feel like it’s okay.”

“It is okay,” Eddie tells him immediately. “That guy’s a real creep, and if I ever see him again, I’m probably just gonna punch him in the face. No words, not a hey, how’re you doing, just bam! Right in the schnoz.”

Steve giggles again. “I’d pay to see that.”

Eddie pouts at him, offers his arm as they continue walking. “You don’t think I could take him? I know I’m scrawny but I’m hiding some muscle, okay, I- well, I was gonna say I work out, but that would be a lie. The most working out I do is moving amps, setting up for a show.”

“You work for a band? Or- a venue, or something?”

“You could say that,” Eddie agrees, letting go of Steve to hop a couple steps in front of him and bow. “You are looking at the frontman of heavy metal band Corroded Coffin.”

“Oh,” Steve says, nonplussed, “I thought you were punk.”

“Punk?” Eddie exclaims. “An affront to my culture! An affront to metalheads everywhere! An affront to me!” He mimes stabbing himself in the heart, dropping in a heap to the pavement.

It makes Steve laugh as he nudges Eddie’s knee with his toe. “Eddie? Oh no, he’s dead. Guess I’ll have to go on alone, with no one to protect me.”

“And I’m revived!” Eddie exclaims, jumping to his feet. His hair falls in his face, and he spits it out of his mouth as he swipes wildly at it.

Steve laughs, moves in closer to help. He meticulously separates Eddie’s bangs from the rest of his hair, then steps back with a light flush dusting his cheeks, realizing how close they were. “There,” he murmurs.

“My hero,” Eddie intones, sweeping low into a bow again before standing straight up and once again offering Steve his arm.

He accepts, and they walk on together.

His apartment isn’t too far, only about fifteen minutes, and it seems much shorter than usual because of the easy conversation flowing. When they get to Steve’s apartment, he sees Robin’s car and grins at Eddie, motioning him inside. “Rob,” he calls, “I brought my boyfriend!”

She bursts out of her room. “Steve!” She yells, pulling him into a hug. She pulls back to study them. “You’ve never met this man before, you slut,” she tells him affectionately. “Hi, Robin Buckley, who are you?” She thrusts a hand Eddie’s direction.

He grins and shakes. “Eddie Munson, at your service.”

“Hi,” she agrees, then taps Steve rapidly on his shoulder. “Explain. Why do you scent stressed?” She presses her nose into his neck. “It’s old but still there. What happened, Dingus?”

“I was being followed,” he tells her.

“A creepy knothead variety of our designation,” Eddie explains.

“I saw Eddie and he was the first person who looked… safe.”

“He jumped me,” Eddie agrees, smirking at Steve. “Not really beating the slut allegation, sweetheart.”

“Oh, shut up,” Steve tells him, laughing.

“I noticed what was happening,” Eddie continues. “Played along. Creep Alpha left, but-”

“I didn’t want to be alone,” Steve admits. “And I knew you were busy, and way far out, and we don’t know anyone else in this godforsaken city.”

“Now you do,” Eddie tells him.

“Now I do,” Steve agrees softly.

“Eddie Munson,” Robin murmurs, studying him with narrowed eyes. “Why do I know that name?”

“Um,” Eddie says, “are you into metal? I’m in a band.”

Robin snaps her fingers at him, expression brightening. “Corroded Coffin!”

Eddie’s eyes sparkle. “Holy shit, yes! Have you seen us?”

“Oh, no,” Robin laughs. “Not really my scene. But there’s this pup we knows who’s absolutely obsessed. Never shuts up about you.”

Steve frowns. “Dustin?”

“Yeah, Dingus.”

“But I thought he was always going on about the other band.”

“Ah, yes, because as we all know, you can only ever like one band at a time.” She hits him with an extremely judgy expression. “Do you listen when your child talks?”

“Hey, if he’s mine he’s yours, and you know I don’t.”

“Um,” Eddie says, “child?”

“Not actually mine,” Steve reiterates. “But also basically yeah. And yes, he’s obsessed.”

A slow grin creeps across Eddie’s face. “In that case, do you want to do the funniest thing ever?”

Steve’s eyes spark as a manic grin makes its way onto Robin’s lips. “Oh, hell yeah,” Steve agrees.

They work out the plan: invite Dustin over, have Eddie be the one to open the door.

“Hey, little dude,” Steve says into the phone. “You busy for the next little bit?”

“Uh,” Dustin says, sounding distracted, “yeah? I’ve got a test due tonight, a paper due Friday, and then it’s prep for finals. Why?”

“Just, uh. Wanted to see if you wanted to come over,” Steve says weakly. “But if you’re busy-”

“Rain check,” Dustin decides. “Three weeks from Friday?”

Eddie, who’s standing close enough to hear, shrugs and nods at Steve’s questioning look. “Sure, bud,” Steve tells him. “Three weeks from Friday.”

“Okay, great,” Dustin says. “See you!” And hangs up.

Steve pouts at the phone for a second. “No respect,” he sighs.

“Aw, Stevie,” Eddie playfully pouts, “I’m sure your pup loves you.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Steve rolls his eyes, but smiles at Eddie.

“What does the rest of your day look like?”

“I do believe the rest of my day depends entirely on what you’re planning with me.” He leans against the wall, shoulders curved toward Steve, who smiles rather bashfully.

“Would you like to stay for dinner?”

Back in her room, Robin calls, “would you like to stay forever?”

Steve instantly blushes firetruck red. “Feel free to ignore her,” he tells Eddie. “She likes to quote movies at the absolute worst time.”

“Oh, I dunno,” Eddie murmurs. His cheeks are dusted pink. “I dunno about forever, not yet, but I certainly wouldn’t mind staying for dinner.”

“Okay,” Steve murmurs. “Chicken work for you?”

“Chicken,” Eddie murmurs back. “Sure.”

Neither of them look away from each other.

The days turn into weeks. That first day—first night, really—Eddie was there, they’d exchanged numbers.

Steve talks to Eddie on the phone most nights. The nights he doesn’t, he’s with Eddie.

At first they’re just friendly. Friends. But there’s something deeper and they both sense it. Eddie’s rosemary-and-walnut scent mixes perfectly with Steve’s lemon-basil. Robin complains about getting hungry around them, and they just laugh, knowing she’s teasing.

Still, that something deeper is there, is entirely present, and Steve knows, and Eddie knows, and he knows Eddie knows he knows. They’re both inching toward a free fall.

There’s one night they’re in Eddie’s apartment. What Corroded Coffin sales don’t cover—which is most of it, Eddie had explained—his shifts at the mechanic shop do. He gets home, weary and grease-covered, and Steve had already let himself in, was making dinner for the two of them.

“Stevie,” Eddie groans, the second he steps foot in the door.

Steve clenches his thighs at the bolt of want that spears through him.

He laughs it off, halfway turns to meet Eddie’s gaze. “Yeah?”

“Fuck, smells amazing,” he breathes. “I’m so hungry I could eat a dragon. Do you know how big those are? And I mean a whole dragon, too, an adult, not a tiny baby one.”

“You’re hungry,” Steve summarizes.

“Starving,” Eddie agrees, brushing a kiss on his cheek before moving off to his bedroom to change.

Steve freezes. Hears the moment Eddie realizes what he’s done.

He’s got a choice to make, he knows. He could pretend like nothing happened. Things would be awkward, for a minute, but they’d get past it.

He could address it. Eddie might get nervous or defensive. Might not react well. Worse yet, he might say he didn’t mean to.

Or…

He sends out a happy, pleased scent, more honey-lemon than usual, and continues cooking.

He hears Eddie walk tentatively out of his bedroom. Hears the moment his feet hit kitchen tile and he smells Steve. “Oh,” Eddie whispers.

“Go change,” Steve murmurs lightly. “Dinner’s almost ready.”

“Yeah,” Eddie responds. Steve can hear the smile. “Okay.”

“Okay,” he parrots.

He plates the food, and Eddie comes out just as he’s putting the plates on the table, wrapping him up in a hug. His nose dips closer to his scent gland than is strictly friendly, and Steve sends out more of the happy honey scent.

“Baby,” Eddie murmurs. “Yeah?”

Steve leans back into him, lets him support his weight. “Yeah,” he whispers, wrapping his arms around Eddie’s, around his waist.

He gets Eddie’s happy scent for his efforts, woodsmoke and petrichor filling his nostrils as he inhales.

They talk during dinner. About what they’re feeling, what they’re looking for. “Sweetheart,” Eddie tells him. He’s liberal with the terms of endearment, which Steve definitely likes. “I liked you the minute you threw yourself at me, trying to get away from that creep.” He inches his hands over the table, grabbing Steve’s. “But I fell for you the minute you laughed.”

Steve blinks. “The minute I laughed?”

“Mhm,” Eddie nods. “I believe I was apologizing on behalf all Alphas everywhere, who aren’t raging knotheads. You giggled, and you said I made you feel safe, and I looked in your eyes and fell in.” He shrugs. “And, I mean, you know our scents are compatible.”

“More than that,” Steve murmurs.

Eddie nods. “Exactly! And I-” he gusts out a breath. “Hell, Steve, I’m terrified. I don’t know how to be in love. But if it means a future with you? I’d do anything.”

“Love?” Steve asks, scarcely able to breathe.

Eddie bites his lip, grips Steve’s fingers a little bit harder. “Yeah.”

Steve abandons his food, rounding the table and collapsing onto Eddie’s lap. “I love you too,” he whispers. “I know it’s really early, but…”

“No take-backs.” Eddie smiles, pokes his side. “‘S not too early if we both feel it. ‘S just right.”

“Just right,” Steve murmurs, a wondering smile on his face. Suddenly, it turns teasing. “Which one of us is Goldilocks, then?”

Eddie snickers. “Obviously you, you’ve got the hair. My hair’s more like one of the three bears.”

Steve laughs, tugs teasingly on a curl. “Yeah, but I like your hair.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm. ‘S metal.”

“Oh, baby,” Eddie rumbles. “You tryin’a start somethin’?”

Steve hums, pulls back. “No, sorry. Just wanna be near you right now.” He looks up at Eddie. “Is that okay?”

“Perfect, baby,” Eddie agrees. He shifts, drags Steve’s plate closer. “Finish your food,” he suggests. “Then we can go watch a movie. Or call Robin, if I know you the way I think I do, this conversation isn’t going to be able to wait until you get home.”

“Yeah,” Steve says, “it probably can’t wait till tomorrow.”

Careful eyes watch Eddie’s reaction. He smiles, nuzzles the side of Steve’s head. “Definitely not,” he says. “That would be a complete violation of best friend code.” He pokes Steve’s thigh. “Can we call Chrissy after? Can she come over? She hasn’t met you yet.”

Steve narrows his eyes in thought. “Chrissy’s your omega friend, right?”

“She is.”

“And does she like women?”

Eddie laughs. “I like the way you think, baby! Call Robin first, get her over here, Chrissy lives closer than you two do. I’ll call her as soon as you’re off the phone with Robin, okay?”

Steve grins. “Sounds great.” He shovels the rest of his food in his mouth, as fast as he can, then runs to the phone.

Eddie’s not any slower. He doesn’t even finish, excitement pulling any remaining hunger away, and he ends up behind Steve, pulling him into a hug as he talks to Robin.

They hang up after only a couple of minutes, and Eddie dials Chrissy’s number. “Hey,” he says, barreling on before she can even say hi back. “You’ve got ten minutes to get over here if you wanna meet my omega.” He winks at Steve, who beams back at him. Honey and woodsmoke permeate the space, dancing around and melting into each other, creating a soothing blend of scents.

He gets off the phone and turns Steve to face him fully. “Hi,” he murmurs.

Steve giggles. “Hi.”

“Can I kiss you?”

Steve’s eyes widen, and his inhale turns into a gasp. “Please,” he breathes, and Eddie does.

They’re still kissing, just little pecks, by the time there’s a knock on the door, signifying Chrissy’s arrival.

They part just long enough for Eddie to open the door and hug Chrissy. Steve scoots in under Eddie’s arm, leans into him as he greets her. Strawberry pastries bloom as she grins. “It’s nice to finally put a face to the name.”

Steve giggles, shakes her proffered hand. “I agree. I’ve heard good things about you.”

She narrows her eyes at him. “And you don’t think it’s weird that he’s such good friends with an omega?”

Steve grins. “My Alpha best friend is on her way over as we speak. I’d argue I’m one of the few who really understands.”

“Then I’m sure we’ll be just fine,” Chrissy nods, walking into the kitchen and fetching herself a drink.

“Yeah,” Eddie sighs. “That’s Chrissy.”

“I heard that!” She calls.

Steve giggles. “I really don’t think you two can be worse than me and Robin.”

“That sounds like a challenge, baby.”

“It wasn’t,” Steve protests, laughing. “Not everything has to be a competition.”

“It doesn’t have to, but it’s more fun if it is.”

Steve snorts, rolls his eyes, shakes his head. “C’mon.” He motions to the kitchen, and Eddie walks with him.

“So, Steve,” Chrissy says, sitting on the counter. “How did you two meet?”

Steve grimaces. “It’s not a very happy story.”

She sighs. “What did he do?”

Steve blinks, then laughs. “Oh, no, he was great. It wasn’t him at all.”

“C’mon, Chris,” Eddie complains. “You should know me better than that by now.”

“I do know you and that’s exactly why I thought it was you,” she fires back, before looking back at Steve with a little nod.

“I, uh. Robin and I are new here, so I don’t really know anybody yet. I guess I do now, but I didn’t. I was walking and I saw this Alpha following me. And I even tried turning, to see if he was actually following me? And he was. And I didn’t- I had keys, I guess, if it came down to it, but I really didn’t want it to come down to it.” He grimaces, realizes the air is rank with rotted greens. He grimaces again, apologizes. Smiles when Eddie grumbles, pulls him in tighter, and presses a kiss to his temple.

“Want me to continue?”

Steve shakes his head, relaxes in Eddie’s hold. “I can. Just… got overwhelmed for a second.”

“It’s alright, baby. Take all the time you need.”

“I mostly understand anyways,” Chrissy says softly. “If you’d rather skip all that.”

Steve sighs. “He didn’t touch me, if that’s what you’re wondering,” he tells Chrissy. “I saw Eddie standing there, in front of me a little, and he was the first person who looked safe. So I just… pretended. I ran up to him and hugged him, and called him baby, loud enough the guy following me could hear. And thankfully Eddie caught on quickly. He jumped in, no hesitation, and the guy left, but… I was still rattled from it, y’know?”

“Definitely,” Chrissy nodded.

“So he walked me home, came in and met Robin, and… stayed for dinner.”

Eddie snickers. “I think I did what Robin asked, though. I’m staying forever.”

Steve rolls his eyes through his grin. “She’s gonna be insufferable about that.”

“That’s your best friend, baby.”

“Yes, I know,” Steve grouses. He’s still smiling.

Just then there’s another knock on the door, and Steve sprints to open it. “Robin!”

“Steve!” She greets him. He gives her a hug and pulls her into the kitchen. “Robin, meet Chrissy, Eddie’s best friend.”

Robin blinks. “Uh,” she says. “Hi.”

“Hi!” Chrissy says. “It’s really nice to meet you. Steve said you’re like me and Eddie! That’s cool!”

“Yeah,” Robin says, “except we were here first.” She immediately blanches. “Oh, fuck, sorry, no, that implies that what you have isn’t the same as what we have, which means I think you’re a liar, except I don’t think you’re a liar, I swear, I just-”

Aside to Eddie, Steve whispers, “should we give them the room?”

In lieu of an answer, Eddie wraps his arm around Steve and quietly walks them out of the kitchen.

In the living room, sounds are a little muffled, but Steve hears Robin’s ramblings broken up by a softer, higher voice—Chrissy—and soon they’re both talking, a low murmur that works as the background to the steady thump-thump of Eddie’s heart against his ear where his head is pillowed on Eddie’s chest. He yawns, curls in a little. “I could fall asleep like this.”

“I’m here if you want to,” Eddie murmurs, running a hand down Steve’s back. “I’ll be here. Take you to bed, if you want.”

Steve shakes his head. “I wanna stay out here. But if they stay in there for much longer, I’m gonna fall asleep. Especially if you keep that up.”

Eddie chuckles lightly, keeps rubbing his back. “You do that, baby.”

Steve does.

He wakes up slowly, later, in a way he hasn’t in so long. He’s used to his alarm blaring, shocking him awake, and the rare days he gets off he wakes up in a rush thinking he’s late for work. He rarely wakes up slowly like this, pushing his legs out to stretch, tilting his head up, humming when it puts his nose in contact with Eddie’s scent gland. Rosemary and woodsmoke seep into his nostrils, permeates every inch of his brain. He knows, distantly, he’s pumping out the honey again, but it’s unintentional, and he nearly falls back asleep. He drifts for a while, laying in that twilight of sleep, before Eddie shifts, waking up.

He puts a hand on Steve’s back, and Steve wakes up more, purrs. Eddie rumbles out an Alpha purr back. “Mornin’, baby,” he mumbles. Steve just hums again, and Eddie chuckles. “Not awake yet?”

Another hum. “Almost.”

“Take your time, sweetheart.” He rubs his hand down Steve’s back. “I’ll be here.”

Another hum. “When’id Robbie n’ Chrissy leave?”

“They didn’t stay for too long. They left at the same time, and Robin triple-checked that you’d be spending the night here.”

Steve nods sleepily. “‘S good.”

Eddie chuckles. “Yeah. You wanna wake up or go back to sleep, baby?”

“‘M awake.”

“Wasn’t really my question, but I think that might’ve answered it anyways.” He dips his head to press a kiss to Steve’s temple, and Steve purrs again. Or more. He’s not sure he ever stopped in the first place.

His purring is interrupted by a yawn. He opens his eyes with he finishes, blinks in the dim light of Eddie’s room. “Food?”

“I can make some,” Eddie agrees. “How’s eggs and toast sound?”

“And coffee?”

“And coffee,” Eddie chuckles. “You gonna let me up? Or are you planning on becoming a limpet in your next life and you’re getting a head-start now?”

“Wanna go with you.”

“You can, but that doesn’t negate the fact that we’ve still gotta get up.”

Steve huffs out a dramatic breath, rolls out of bed and onto his feet. Stretches, then realizes he’s in boxers. No pants. He squints at his bare legs, then at Eddie, who smiles. “I didn’t want you wearing jeans in bed, sweetheart, I know how uncomfortable that is. I can give you some pajama pants if you want.”

“Yes, please. And thank you.”

“You,” Eddie says, “are most welcome.” He rolls out of bed and strides to his dresser, tossing Steve a pair of red-and-black plaid sleep pants.

He dons his own, blue with pink polka-dots. Snickers when Steve looks between the two of them.

“You wanna know why I put these on? Instead of giving them to you?”

“Yeah,” Steve agrees. “You know I like those better.”

“I put them on,” he pauses for a taffy kiss, sweet and stretched-out, “so you can take them home with you tonight and put them in your nest.”

“Fuck, I love you,” Steve breathes.

Eddie pushes in for another kiss, this one impatient, hot and searing, licking across the seam of Steve’s mouth, pressing between his lips, bullying his way past Steve’s teeth until he can taste him, and it should be gross because neither of them have brushed their teeth yet but instead it’s just good in a way that makes his Alpha light up. “Love you,” he mutters against Steve’s lips, pulling back to tap Steve’s hand, still holding the plaid pants. “Get dressed, baby. I’ll start on breakfast.”

“No, wait for me!” Steve whines, frantically pushing his foot into the half-folded leg of the pants.

Eddie waits, so Steve slows down a little, letting the pants unfold before he shoves his legs through the holes.

They pad out to the kitchen together, where Steve sits on the counter while Eddie pops bread in the toaster and fries some eggs.

Eating is a quiet affair, Eddie hooking his ankle around Steve’s as soon as they sit down, just wanting to keep that touch.

Eventually Steve has to go get ready for work, so he heads home and nearly bumps into Chrissy as she’s walking down the steps of his apartment building. He grins at her. “Hello,” he says, “sleep well?”

She flushes, but winks at him, and he laughs.

He continues on, up to his apartment, where Robin’s waiting for him. She’s in the kitchen, nursing her second cup of coffee. Steve knows it’s her second because she always downs the first the moment it’s no longer scalding. “Well hello there,” she says, lecherous grin on her face. “And what did you get up to all night, might I ask?”

Steve rolls his eyes. “We literally just slept, Robs, I didn’t wake up until this morning. I did pass Chrissy on my way in, though.”

She nearly chokes on her coffee, blush staining her cheeks pink. She tries to wave him away, goes for the sappy comment. “I’ve never known you to fall asleep on someone you’ve only known a few weeks. It takes longer than that for you to be willing to invite someone into your pack.”

Steve flushes, holds up the pants Eddie had on. “Um,” he says, “surprise?”

Her mouth drops open. “You bitch!” She delightedly shrieks.

He giggles. “Guess you were right about me being a slut, huh?”

“You should know by now that I’m always right. And I thought you said you didn’t have sex?”

“Yeah, but I can still be a slut without having sex.”

She narrows her eyes at him. “That’s not how that works, at all, but also yes. You can. And only you, I think.” She shrugs, turns away to head to her room, bumping his arm with her shoulder. “You’re one of a kind.”

“Hell yeah I am.”

“I never said that was a good thing.” She disappears into her room, leaving Steve to stare after her.

To think she called him a bitch.

The week continues as it had gone before; he and Eddie still talk on the phone nightly, except now those are few and far between; they’re usually at an apartment, either bothering Robin or enjoying solitude with each other in Eddie’s apartment. On the nights when Steve doesn’t work the next day, he’ll stay over at Eddie’s.

He doesn’t entirely know what they’re waiting for. Why they haven’t had sex yet. They both want to, but it’s like there’s a lot whisper in the air, something murmuring not yet, it’s not time now, but soon. And honestly? Steve really enjoys the change of pace.

About a week later is the third Friday, the day Dustin’s coming over. Eddie gets there around noon, because when Dustin says six p.m., what he really means is whenever he feels like it.

That’s why, at a quarter after three, there’s a knock on the door.

Eddie slides in his socked feet over the hardwood, nearly running into the door and saving it at the last moment. Steve snorts.

Eddie throws open the door. “Ah, hello! You must be Dustin!”

“Oh holy shit,” Dustin says, blinking wide-eyed at Eddie. “You- you’re-”

“Wow,” Steve says, coming up to Eddie, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him speechless before.” He pats Eddie’s shoulder. “Good job.”

Eddie snorts. “Thanks?” He hip-checks Steve, sending a warm smile his way.

Steve grins back, moves to the kitchen. “In or out, Henderson, and close your mouth ‘fore you start catching flies like that Mona Lisa of yours.”

Dustin scurries inside. Eddie frowns. “Mona Lisa?”

“Yeah, he’s got one of those…” Steve waves a hand. “Plants that eat bugs.”

“Venus fly trap,” Dustin says. “You’re Eddie Munson.”

“I am.”

“And you’re in Steve’s apartment.”

“I am.”

Dustin pauses. “Why in the hell-”

Eddie wraps an arm around Dustin’s shoulders. “Ah, to be young and carefree, to know not the trap of a heart given to another-”

“He’s got a girlfriend,” Steve says, crossing his arms. “Trap?”

Eddie freezes. “Not trap. Uh… fuck, I wrote myself into a corner.” He releases Dustin, bounds up to Steve. Ducks his head and looks up at him. “Forgive me?”

Steve chuckles. “Dramatic dork,” he says, but presses a chaste kiss to Eddie’s lips.

“What the fuck?” Dustin screeches.

Steve winces. “Dude, language and volume, c’mon. Christ, it’s like you’ve never seen two people kiss before.”

“But you!” Dustin says emphatically. “Him! How?”

Steve exchanges a glance with Eddie, then sighs and tells Dustin how they met. “He escorted me home, met Robin, stayed for dinner…”

“Stayed forever,” Eddie mumbles in Steve’s ear.

Steve chuckles. “Even if I thought you were punk when I first met you?”

“You what?” Dustin hisses. They both ignore him.

“Even then,” Eddie promises. “Especially then, actually, as soon as people know I’m in a band they act different. You didn’t. Just kept talking to me like a normal dude.”

“Oh,” Dustin says suddenly. “Really?”

Eddie offers him a crooked smile. “Don’t sweat it, man, according to Robin you’re an actual, genuine fan. Already worlds ahead of the people who didn’t give me the time of day until they thought I could give them popularity.”

Dustin nods. “That makes sense,” he says. “Still. It sucks that people are like that.”

Eddie shrugs. “I feel sorry for ‘em. Chasing everything they can to get an inch closer to the top. What’re they gonna see once they get there? A whole lotta nothing. Plus,” he smiles at Steve, “it means we’re here, now.”

Steve leans against him. Eddie wraps his arms around his waist. “Together,” Steve agrees.

“Together,” Eddie parrots.

“Oh,” Dustin murmurs again. “You guys, like, actually love each other, don’t you?”

Steve tilts his head. “How’d you know?”

“The way you looked at each other,” he says honestly. “Like it belongs in a movie or something.”

“Oh,” Steve murmurs. Eddie’s arms tighten around his waist.

“You’re right,” Eddie tells Dustin. “We do.”

Steve snickers. “We do belong in a movie?”

Eddie laughs, dislodges Steve, swats at him until Steve swats back.

“Wow,” Dustin says, deadpan, “you two really do deserve each other. You’re both children.”

Steve exchanges a look with Eddie. They both charge Dustin, who chants, “Shit, shit, shit!” as he runs for the living room.

Eddie catches him around the waist, throws them both onto the couch, where they lay, giggling and panting.

Steve laughs, sitting on the chair to the left of the couch. “Speaking of children,” he asks Dustin, “do you want to call the rest of the Party?”

Dustin’s eyes gleam. “Holy shit, yes, wait, I brought-” he scrambles up, sending an elbow into Eddie’s gut in his hurry. Eddie squawks and grabs at the back of Dustin’s shirt, but Dustin’s out of reach, and doesn’t notice what he just caused. He digs around his backpack for a minute. “Ha!” He yells, holding up a walkie-talkie. “Okay, hang on, lemme-” he depresses the button. “This is Dustin calling a code yellow, everybody come in! I repeat, code yellow, come in!”

“This had better be good, shit-for-brains,” Max warns him.

“That’s what a code yellow means, Max. And you’ve gotta say over. Over.”

“Fuck you, how ‘bout that?”

“Christ,” Steve murmurs to Eddie. “Meet my feral children.”

Eddie grins back. “They sound like fun.”

“Okay,” Will chimes in. “I’m here. Dustin, don’t answer Max, she’s just gonna have an even worse comeback. Save yourself the pain. And us. Over.”

“El and I are here,” Mike says. “Over.”

“How about Lucas? Over.”

“Here,” Lucas says wearily. “What’s this about? Over.”

“I’ve got someone I’d like you to meet.”

“You didn’t know him until today, shithead,” Steve tells him.

“Is that Steve? Hi Steve!” El calls. “What’s the news?”

He grabs the walkie out of Dustin’s hand, sends him a look when he tries to take it back. “The news is,” he looks at Eddie, who nods encouragingly, smiling. “my Alpha.”

He hands the walkie to Eddie. “Hey, guys!” He says. “My name is Eddie Munson. It’s nice to sort-of meet you!”

“Dustin,” Will says, low and controlled. “Tell me this isn’t a prank of some sort.”

Dustin steals the walkie back. “Dude, I nearly died,” he swears to Will. “It’s him. It’s really him.”

The walkie explodes with noise.

“Who?” Max asks.

“I’ll educate her,” Lucas promises, and then they’re both gone.

Then Mike, El and Will take turns pinging in. During a lull, Eddie swipes the walkie. “I’ve got a question,” he says. “Why do you guys calls yourselves the Party?”

“Oh, shit,” Steve murmurs. “I’m gonna lose you to them.”

“Never,” Eddie promises him.

“Uh,” Will says hesitantly. “We play D&D. It’s how most of us met, we were all interested in playing in school, and we kind of just… bonded.”

“No shit?” Eddie asks. “That’s super cool! Who’s your DM?”

“I am.”

Eddie laughs. “Dude, that’s great! I’ll have to pick your brain for storylines. Maybe we could swap our favorites? Do you have any homebrew or are they all canon?”

“They’re all canon,” Will admits. “But I did add my own twists to a few.”

“Man, that’s awesome! When I first started I was terrified I was gonna mess up. Had to do everything by the book. But then I got more confident and I started adding some of my own stuff in, and then I got even more confident and decided to write my own campaign.”

“And it was good?”

Eddie snorts. “Actually? It was complete shit. But I had good friends who didn’t tell me that, they encouraged me to keep trying, and I did, and now I’m actually good at whipping up a homebrew.”

“Wow,” Will breathes. “Could we- not now, obviously, but-”

Eddie chuckles. “I’d love to talk shop with you, Will.”

“Stealing you from me,” Steve murmurs. Eddie rubs a soothing hand on his thigh, passes the radio back to Dustin. “Sweetheart,” he murmurs, “you really feel that way?”

Steve shrugs, tips his head down. “‘M just… feeling weird, I guess. It’s not your fault. You don’t have to coddle me.”

“I don’t have to do anything,” Eddie agrees, bringing Steve’s hand up to kiss his knuckles. “Tell me how I can fix it?”

Steve shrugs miserably. “I don’t know.”

“You’re just feeling some kinda way?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s alright, baby. Wanna come sit over here with me?”

Steve considers it, then nods and moves from his chair to the couch, next to Eddie, close enough they’re touching all the way down and Eddie can comfortably get an arm around his shoulders. “There we go, sweetness. That better?”

Steve sighs, tucks his face into Eddie’s neck, and goes boneless. “Yeah.”

“See what I mean?” Dustin says, and that’s when they both realize he’d broadcasted their exchange to the rest of the Party.

“There’s something deeply wrong with you, little man,” Max drawls.

Dustin squawks. “Just because you’re taller than me!”

“Yeah, yeah. Yada yada. They’re sweet, is what they are, and maybe if you ever got your head outta your ass where your precious Suzie-poo is concerned-”

“Oh, fuck you, Maxine, and what if your guy hadn’t lived in the same town as you, huh?”

“I’d still be doing better than you!”

“Christ,” Steve mutters, curling a hand into Eddie’s shirt. “Make it stop.”

Eddie ducks down to press a kiss to Steve’s temple. “You bein’ funny or serious?”

“Both,” Steve admits. “But mostly serious.”

Eddie chuckles, then plucks the walkie from Dustin’s grasp. “Alright!” He says. “That’s enough. This is Eddie, Steve, and Dustin, signing off. Over and out.” He twists the knob to turn the walkie off, then tosses it back to Dustin. “Put that away, please,” he says softly.

Dustin turns sad eyes up to Steve. “Did we cause a migraine?” He whispers.

Steve smiles, reaches out to grab Dustin’s shoulder. “Only a little one,” he admits. “Rain check on the rest of today?”

Dustin nods immediately, shoving the walkie into his bag and scent-marking Steve, accepting the same back, and then turning to Eddie with a questioning look.

“Sure, kid,” Eddie chuckles, reaching out and accepting the same. “It was really good to meet you.”

“You too.” He smiles. “I’ve got a key, so don’t worry about locking me out. I’ll get it.”

“Why didn’t you let yourself in?” Steve wonders.

“You told me to knock.”

“When have you ever done something I told you to.”

“…and the key was in my bag and I didn’t want to have to find it.”

“There it is.” Steve sighs fondly, shaking his head. “Never change, Dustin.”

“Never,” Dustin agrees, fishing the key out of his bag and brandishing it at them with a grin. “Call me?”

“I will.”

“M’kay. Bye, Steve. Bye, Eddie.”

“Bye, Dustin,” they tell him, and then the door is closed. Eddie listens for the snik of the lock before he moves himself and Steve to lay down on the couch. “You wanna take a little nap, baby?”

Steve hums. “Should go in my room,” he murmurs. “And… need water first.”

Eddie carefully sits them up, helps Steve stand. “Go to your room, baby. I’ll get you water.”

Steve hums, leans into Eddie for a second. “Thank you, Alpha.”

“Omega,” Eddie softly rumbles. “Love you.”

“Love you.” He pushes off Eddie and walks down the hall. Eddie watches him until he’s in his room, then moves to get his water.

The weeks continue. Eddie meets the rest of the Party. He and Max hit it off like a house on fire. Will has a much quieter, though no less sincere, appreciation for him. Steve teases him relentlessly about Mike’s obvious crush on him. “No!” Eddie cries. “He’s a child!”

The weeks continue. Steve is at Eddie’s apartment more than his own now. Robin’s taken to waving a white handkerchief whenever he leaves, like he doesn’t know she’ll be calling Chrissy the moment he’s gone.

The four of them get together fairly often; mandatory Friday movie nights, at the very least, though more often than not they’ll all just congregate at an apartment and stay until it’s far too late.

Steve and Robin’s lease is up soon. And because he tracks his heats, he knows his next one is due right around when their lease is up. “Just move in with Eddie,” Robin tells him. “Chrissy’s lease ends a month after ours. I’ll renew it, and a month in she’ll come live with me.”

“Maybe,” Steve hedges. “I’ll have to talk to Eddie about it.”

She scoffs, rolls her eyes. “Like he’d ever tell you no.”

Steve blushes, because she’s right and he loves it. “I’ll talk to him,” he promises.

“You’d better,” she threatens.

He does. He’s relaxing on the couch with Eddie after dinner when he looks up at him and asks, “Eddie?”

Eddie smiles down at him. “Yeah, baby?”

Steve works his lip. “What do you think of me, maybe, moving in with you?”

Woodsmoke blooms. “How would you feel about it?”

“I really want to,” Steve whispers.

Eddie kisses him. “I do, too,” he whispers back.

“There’s one more thing.”

“Okay.”

“Um. The timing is… really not great. And I don’t know exactly when it’ll be, so it could be before or after mine and Robin’s lease is up, or it could hit, like, the day the lease expires, but.” He takes a breath. “Would you help me through my heat?”

“Baby,” Eddie rumbles, dipping to kiss his gland. “It would be my absolute honor.”

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #robin buckley #chrissy cunningham #buckingham #omegaverse #alpha beta omega #tw stalking #but only a little #starambles

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loveharlow · 2 days ago

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SEVEN [POGUELANDIA] - MOON RIVER

PAIRING ‧₊˚ JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS‧₊˚[2.4k] 2 weeks stuck on a deserted island and while the hope for rescue dwindles by the day, you continue to make the most of your situation while a new problem boils right under your nose...

WARNING(S)‧₊˚ swearing, heavy touching/mild smut, allusions to sex, arguing, mentions of sexuality

NOW PLAYING‧₊˚

A/N‧₊˚ idk where i got the motivation for this chapter but i love it

˗ˏˋ series masterlist ˎˊ˗

“NO, KEEP YOUR LEFT FOOT STRAIGHT, GIRL.” Cleo reprimanded once more, you sighing and dropping your hands in response. “Don’t be lazy now. Push through it.” The sun had reached its peak, casting a steaming hot glow across the island, prompting a thin layer of sweat to reveal itself on your skin.

You stood with Cleo close to the shore, the girl sparring with you as promised a week ago. Kiara and JJ were surfing while John B and Sarah cuddled in the sand under the shade of the palm trees as Pope sat closeby, mindlessly watching you and Cleo. But mostly Cleo.

“Well, it was easier when only one of my legs hurt.” You exhausted, one hand on your hip as you breathed heavily. “But we’ve been at this for, what feels like, an hour straight and now they both hurt.”

“Do you think boxers give up when they get punched in the face?” Cleo sassed, squinting her eyes from the sunlight, Pope laughing from the sidelines.

“...What?”

“I’m not repeatin’ myself.” The girl shook her head, walking towards you and taking hold of your wrists. “Put your hands back up, spread your feet apart, and quit whinin’.” She ordered before walking back to her spot a few feet across from you. “You should be grateful to even have a leg, missy. So, wipe ya tears and c’mon.”

You rolled your eyes before beginning your “session” with the island girl — ducking hits, soft slaps, and ignoring the soreness in your leg with every twist and step. This went on for about ten minutes before, for the first time in a full week of sparring, you swept Cleo off her feet. Literally.

You watched with your jaw on the floor as the girl fell on her ass in the sand, closing her eyes briefly as a harsh puff of air left her lips while Pope ‘oooh’d from his place in the sand.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry.” You apologized. Rushing to lend the girl a hand, she took it, you using as much strength as you could to help her up.

“What’re you apologizin’ for?” She asked, dusting herself off before clapping you on the back while catching her breath. “I’ve been tryna get you to do that for seven days and six nights.” Cleo shot, a sly smile on her face.

You scoffed, lightly pushing the girl's shoulder back. “Screw you.”

“You should be thankin’ me.” Cleo joked, pointing a finger as she walked away and towards Pope. “You Americans are so ungrateful.”

“JJ!” Kiara’s voice sounded out before any of you could respond — causing the five of you to turn your attention to the girl as she chased after a seemingly furious JJ, makeshift surfboards tucked under their arms. “Are you serious, bro? I'm talking to you!” She asked, face twisting in annoyance. Water was dripping from both of their frames, leaving rushed wet footprints in the sand.

Your friends all watched with confused faces as you made a move to go towards the pair, putting a hand on JJ’s shoulder. “Hey, what’s the matter-”

“Move.” Was all the blonde boy offered in response, jerking his shoulder away from your touch and walking past you without so much as a glance.

“JJ.” You tried to call after him, but he didn’t even turn around before disappearing into the trees as you turned back around, coming face to face with Kiara. “What the hell happened?” You asked in disbelief.

Kiara seemed to lack a proper response, stuttering for words and trying to move wet strands of hair out of her face before finally making eye contact with you. “I don’t know, he just got mad-”

“He didn’t just get mad.” You stopped her from lying. “What happened?”

Kiara sighed, running a hand through her hair. “...I told him.”

You squinted your eyes in response. “Told him what?”

“...I told him the truth. About why I kissed him in Charleston… about how I feel about you.” She sighed, briefly glancing down at her feet as anger boiled in the pit of your stomach. “I was just trying to clear things up, get rid of the tension. Guess he didn’t take it too well-”

“You had no right.” You seethed, staring the girl down as your remaining four friends crowded around the two of you.

“What’s goin’ on?” Cleo asked.

“What’s wrong with JJ?” Pope followed, both of their questions going ignored.

“No right?” Kiara spat, an expression of offense on her features. “I had every right. They’re my feelings-”

“And it’s my relationship.” You bit back. “If someone was going to tell JJ, my boyfriend, about anything regarding me and you, it should’ve been me. Not you.”

“Okay, seriously,” Sarah started, putting her hands out in front of her. “What is happening?”

“Look, I get it’s yours and JJ’s relationship but didn’t you think to tell him earlier? You don’t think the guilt of lying to my friend was getting to me at all?”

“I was going to tell him!” You blurted. “You don’t think the guilt of lying to my boyfriend was getting to me? I was going to tell him when I thought the time was right. But of course, Kiara only ever thinks about Kiara-”

“Okay!” John B stopped the bickering, voice overpowering all others. “Someone needs to explain what the hell is happening right now. Why did JJ storm off? And what are you two arguing about?”

Kiara shrugged, sassily crossing her arms and eyeing you up and down. “Should I tell them? Or do I have 'no right'?” She bickered.

You couldn’t do anything but scoff, turning away from the girl. “By all means, take the floor. Tell them.” You dismissed, waving a hand in her direction. “It’s your secret to tell. Guess I’m just collateral." You shrugged. "But just so you know, this is one of the many reasons it will never be you.” You sneered before walking off, attempting to go in the direction you’d last seen JJ.

AFTER WHAT FELT LIKE AN HOUR OF WEAVING THROUGH COUNTLESS TREES AND BUSHES, you spotted a very familiar head of golden blonde hair, wading in a shallow pool of water under a nearby waterfall. His back was turned as he mindlessly waved his hands through the water. You spotted his clothes on a nearby rock, taking the opportunity to strip yourself down and put your clothes on top of his — climbing silently into the water.

You moved slowly so as to not make much noise, creeping up behind the boy until you were close enough to wrap your arms around his torso — making him jump and look side to side before realizing it was you. Your heart dropped a bit when he sighed at your presence, putting his hand on top of both of yours that were clasped in front of his stomach.

“What are you doing here?” He said, voice despondent.

“Don’t act like you didn’t know I would come looking for you.” You tried to lighten the mood, only to be met with another sigh. “...Why did you walk off?”

“What do you mean why did I walk off?” He said, indignation clear in his tone.

“I mean, I know but…you didn’t even talk to me. You didn’t let me explain.” You answered, voice dropping.

“Explain?” JJ said, scoffing. “Explain what? How you didn’t tell me how Kie told you she was in love with you? Weeks ago? C’mon…”

“I’m sorry,” You apologized. “Okay? I am.” You reassured. “I was trying to find the right time or…something. But every time I got close to telling you, the thought of your face dropping made me…not.”

“...When exactly would’ve been the right time to tell me?” He questioned, moving your hands off of his torso and turning to face you. He didn’t look happy. “We’ve been stranded here for two weeks. When were you gonna tell me? How did Kie make it to me before you did?”

“I didn’t think she was gonna tell you.” You tried to defend.

“She shouldn’t have had the opportunity to.” JJ reprimanded, lowering his head to be more eye-level with you. “I should be the first person you tell things to. Especially when those things have to do with both me and you. And when I say first person, that doesn’t mean wait almost three fucking weeks to tell me-”

“Okay-”

“No. No, not okay.” He continued his ranting, cheeks turning red. “None of this is okay.” He emphasized with his hands. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I was confused.” You snapped, brows furrowing for a brief second. JJ was raining down on you. Hard. You felt overwhelmed.

“...Confused?” JJ got out. “About what exactly? About who you wanna be with?” He asked incredulously.

“No!” You immediately shut down his questioning. “No. I want to be with you. I am in love with you, whatever Kiara feels for me… it doesn’t matter to me.”

“Then answer my question.” Your boyfriend damn near demanded. “What are you confused about?”

You just sighed, throwing your hands out to the side. “Everything?” You offered an answer. “I know how I feel about you, okay? Nothing has ever been more clear to me than that. But Kie has been my best friend longer than I can remember and I wanted to give her space and time before telling you. You know you have a tendency to be explosive, J. I wanted to give her time before you possibly went off on her for something she can’t control. I may not be in love with her, but I will always have love for her in the sister-ly way I always have.” You tried to clarify. “I’m trying to navigate our relationship and Kiara’s feelings in a way that doesn’t tear apart two of the most important connections in my life. Tell me you at least understand that.”

“I understand that.” He nodded, biting his bottom lip. “...But did Kiara think about you before she kissed me? Did she think about me before telling you how she felt?” He asked, but it was clear he wasn’t really seeking an answer. “No. So why did you consider her feelings before mine?”

“That’s not even fair.” You countered. “You never even told me about the kiss. I saw it for myself and confronted you. So, don’t even use that against me because it’s just gonna come full-circle right back around to you.”

“And why didn’t I tell you about the kiss?” He asked, straightening his posture and towering over you. “Tell me.” You remained silent, staring the boy in his eyes. “Fine. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to hurt you. I didn’t want to hurt us. Me not telling you had nothing to do with Kiara and her feelings-”

“That doesn’t make it better-”

“I didn’t say it did.” He cut you off. “But you wanted me to understand, right? So, now I want you to understand.” He said simply. “I didn’t tell you to spare your feelings but I should have. I was wrong. You didn’t tell me to spare Kiara’s feelings. You were wrong.” He said. “Maybe I would’ve taken it better if I had heard it from you when it happened. But hearing it from Kiara weeks later? It feels like you had something to hide. Like you were trying to give yourself time.”

“I wasn’t-”

“Then tell me I’m wrong.” JJ shrugged, shoulders tense. “Tell me you didn’t tell me because you were trying to consider Kiara and not because you have feelings for her too.” He requested, edging closer to you. “Tell me you’re in love with me. Just me.” You never expected this from JJ — someone so independent and closed off with any and almost all emotions. This was raw. This was real. This was him.

“...Kie was one of my best friends.” You started, staring into his eyes and never wavering. “So, yes I was trying to protect her. And yes, I made a mistake in considering her over you.” You admitted, sliding your hands over JJ’s shoulders and clasping them behind his neck. “But I don’t have any other feelings for her. I am in love with you. Just you. And only you. So, I’m sorry.”

JJ looked between your eyes for a few moments, not returning your touch — hands stuck at his sides under the water, the only sound being the rush of the waterfall behind you both.

“...You swear?” He asked, blue eyes slowly returning to their soft state.

You nodded, pulling yourself in closer and using buoyancy of the water to wrap your legs around his waist as his hands found the back of your thighs. “I promise.”

The blonde fought back a smile, hiking you up higher onto his frame before locking his lips with yours — one of your hands going up to thread into his soaking strands, tugging on them lightly. Your lips moved back and forth in a soft harmony until it gained tension, turning into a feverish exchange. His hands traveled upwards, squeezing the flesh of your ass between his fingers, pressing you even further against him.

It was only then did you realize the both of you were naked — fully naked. His length pressing harshly at your entrance. It was at this moment that you realized you were completely comfortable.

Ever since Rafe, every sexual movement beyond kissing sent you into a spiral. You remember the very first time you tried to do anything after that — it was mortifying.

But in this moment, with JJ. You felt completely safe. You felt ready.

JJ moved his kisses down to the length of your neck, walking you backwards in the crystal blue water until your back hit a stone wall, the coolness of the rock and the warmth of his fingers causing you to let out a small moan.

Without much thought, you found one of your hands reaching down in between the two of you to grab his dick, lightly stroking it in the water. The male above you let out a soft moan, the warmth of his breath fanning out across your neck.

You were two seconds away from putting it in yourself when one of his hands gripped the wrist of yours that was tugging on his cock.

“...I don’t wanna do this here.” He breathed out, pulling from your neck with swollen lips and lust-blow eyes. “I wanna make all of our best memories back home. Wherever that may be.”

You didn’t protest or push any further, simply accepting his wishes and releasing your grip, leaving a peck on his lips as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, looking into your eyes. “I’m sorry for not letting you talk earlier.” He whispered.

You offered a small, light smile. “It’s okay. I know you.” You reassured, knowing his small dramatic exit was nothing compared to his usual emotional outburst. Even if he didn’t realize it, JJ was improving in small but amazing ways. Being on this island seemed good for him.

And now you weren’t sure you wanted to leave.

next chapter >

feedback is appreciated! thanks for reading.

©loveharlow.

#SoundCloud #svn #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank fluff #jj mayback x reader #obx jj maybank #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank smut #jj maybank x you #jj maybank imagine #jj mayback imagine #jj maybank #jj maybank x fem!reader #jj maybank x pogue!reader #jj maybank x kook!reader #jj maybank x y/n

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justiceiscalling · 15 hours ago

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i’m gonna try to keep this one short but, genuinely, why is damian going to hell never mentioned? like jason’s death is mentioned 24/7 and damian’s death is basically never even referenced (to my knowledge). did his death get retconned?

and even then—why don’t fics mention it? damian went to hell! literal hell! that’s prime angst material right there. i don’t understand people sometimes. everyone ignores the important aspects of jason and damian’s deaths, they only take note that they died. like the fic ideas i have for this is limitless.

catholic jason todd dies and sees nothing. no heaven, no hell. no jesus, no devil. he comes back brain damaged, then fucked up in the head, and when he finally gets his feet underneath him, he has a crisis of faith. then damian wayne fucking does, comes back a year later (double it and give it to the next ts). bonding ensues.

“You trashed it.” Tim notes, looking down at the shirt that’s covered with paint, grime, and the distinct scent of the sewer.

Duke looks over at the shirt and scrunches his nose, glancing between it and Damian. “Just throw it in his closet. Maybe he won’t notice.”

Tim gives Duke a look. “It reeks of the sewer. Dicks not that messy.”

Damian frowns at the shirt. His trip through Gothams sewers hadn’t been intentional, it was a detour he had to make when an assassin cornered him. Unfortunately, at the time he was wearing Dicks blue ‘Nightwing’ shirt (yes he has his own merch. Yes it is because he is full of himself).

A low whistle draws Damian’s attention away from the shirt. He looks up and meets Jason’s eyes. His hair has grown out since Damian last saw him two weeks ago. If he refused to go to the barber then he should at least let Alfred cut it, do the entire world a favor. “Oh, Dicks going to kill you.”

“I hope not,” Damian says absentmindedly, putting the shirt down. Lest he start smelling like the sewer again. It took four hours to get the scent out of his hair, an additional two to get it off his body. “I’m not dressed properly.”

It’s meant to be a joke. Him and Jon aren’t exactly ‘working on them’ but he has been a test dummy for a few. Damian came to realize Jon laughed at everything, no matter if it was funny or not. The trio in front of him laugh as if it’s funny—Damian is about to dedicate an entire thirty seconds to basking in glory at the victory of making three out of four of his brothers laugh—but it’s when Tim speaks that Damian realizes it was interpreted wrong.

"What, you too cool to die in a hoodie and sweats?" He gestures to Damians outfit, a Gotham Academy hoodie paired with its matching Gotham Academy sweats. Underneath the black hoodie, is a black long sleeve shirt that had the Gotham Academy symbol on the sleeve.

Duke straightens up to get his own joke out. "Obviously.” He says with complete seriousness. “He has to die wearing Prada. Keep up, Tim.” He looks over at Jason, “Get a loud of this guy.”

Jason snorts in response. “Gotta die in style. Dying in uniform is so outdated.” That earns a loud laugh from Duke, the only person who has yet to tire of Jason’s ‘I died’ jokes.

“Imbeciles.” Damian rolls his eyes, his tanned cheeks were probably coated in pink dye to embarrassment. He would never imply he had to die in a certain outfit if it wasn’t half-true. “That is not what I meant.”

“Please do explain, O-Wise one.”

Damian clicks his tongue at Dukes nickname but does as asked. “When I died before,” He doesn’t miss the way Tim and Jason stiffen at the mention. Duke just kind of pauses. “It was hot. You cannot exactly ditch clothes in hell.”

He’s met with silence. Well, he didn’t expect to be met with laughs.

Jokes aren’t funny after you explain the joke. Damian busies himself with folding the shirt he had previously let go of, the one that smelled of the sewer. “You…” Tim pauses, tilts his head, then continues. “What?”

“You broke Tim.” Duke comments, though he doesn’t seem fully there either.

“I don’t understand.” Damian furrows his brows look from Duke to Tim. Finally, he decides to look over at Jason.

Jason doesn’t seem tense, the only sign he was was the hand he had clenched together in a fist, which he quickly got rid of. In reality, it’s his face that gives him away. Jason’s always been emotional, you could read his emotions far too easy off his face if you were trained to do so. It’s a good thing he wears a helmet. “Hell. You went to hell.”

“Yes.” Damian says, because, was it ever a secret? Did he forget to mention that? He didn’t exactly have to write a mission report on his death. “I assume you did not.” His voice is stiff. Hell isn’t his favorite topic.

“No. I didn’t.” Jason confirms.

“How was Heaven?” His tone is slightly bitter, he can’t help it. Even though he knows Jason was good pre-death. Didnt lay a finger on a soul, and when he did, they were deserving of it and walked away breathing just fine.

“Wouldn’t know.” Jason shrugs. “Wasn’t important enough to get either.” He explains.

and yk bonding brother stuff. the potential is just sitting there untouched. like if someone doesn’t use it ill tweak out. feel free to rec fics, im clearly in need. only crossover fics id enjoy are marvel/mcu and criminal minds.

use this for an idea if you want, give credit obv.

edit: i've been informed that jason, in some iterations, did go to heaven but just doesn't remember it. so...even better ngl.

crisis of faith, thinking there's no heaven and hell, then boom bro finds out he actually did go to heaven. also the little writing bit i did was made in like twenty minutes at like 3 am, so sorry for it being shit. if i do ever get a great incredible idea for a fic on that, ill let yall know.

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hoiststowline · 18 hours ago

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responses to “don’t come over, I look like a mess” [w/ sunstreaker, cliffjumper, ratchet, bluestreak, hound & ironhide]

“What? No. What did you say? That doesn’t make any sense, I’m coming over anyways,”:

• Sunstreaker is probably the biggest repeat offender on this one, and he uses it in other situations, too. he suddenly can’t comprehend and doesn’t allow you to explain yourself, though he and you full well know he understands. grumbles the whole ‘you’re breaking up!’ schtick. pretends to drive through a tunnel when he’s forty-five seconds away (where there is no tunnels) just to hang up without letting you say a peep. he won’t leave either, so you comply and come to see him, or you will be hearing his horn for the better part of the evening.

• a second guilty charge is aimed straight at Cliffjumper. somehow, there is never any time to explain and he’s in a huge hurry, and he’s only calling you as a courtesy so you’ll be outside and ready to go. If you even get a word in, mentioning weakly you look like shit or don’t feel up to seeing him, he’ll hang up. He can’t hear your lies if he literally can’t hear them or something like that. but once he pulls up and you aren’t outside, now you’ve done it, though he never directs the frustration at you. but if he’s in such a big hurry, wouldn’t he have left by now? Surely doesn’t have the time to wait around- and he’s yelling that you look fine from the street.

“That suspiciously sounds like you just made that up. at what point has that ever stopped me before?”:

• Ratchet will express that in so many words, but his concern will triumph over most things. He’s worried by your misplaced and unusual deflection, partial to looking for his company when it’s often unattainable. He doesn’t do it on purpose, but in the spare moments he does have, he uses them to see you. So when you decline his request, he’s still coming over, hell or high water. Whatever you’re wearing or whatever you’re doing he’s fine being in the company of, so your excuses are paper thin. You don’t sound sick, but he’s gotta be certain of that...

• “yeah, a hot mess!” Bluestreak tried, you’ll give him points there. “…that’s what you meant, right?” Unsettled and nervous chatter arises on his behalf when you can’t quite articulate why you feel so messy, and he immediately begins pressing for answers. there's a full minute where he thinks he did something wrong, and just when you console him that he didn't, you can already hear his wheels burning rubber in the background. hah, good luck stopping him, he's already halfway to your place, and cannot fathom why you looking a little messy would ever prohibit him from coming over. he'll be wary and uneasy the rest of the ride, wanting to get to the root of your woes.

“You always look beautiful, but if you’re not up to company that’s okay,”:

• Hound sorta understands, yet doesn't quite completely in regards to your explanation. though he's disheartened by a handful of things- one that you don't feel up to par outwardly and think that he cares what you are wearing or how you look in this very moment. you always look perfect to him, and your comment only fuels an unsteady flame that makes him think something else is very wrong. but he won't pry or shoulder his way in, he knows you'll come around when you're ready to talk, being supportive as always. he won't argue, he's straight to the point: no, you don't look a mess. he doesn't have to see you to know that, he knows, and to call him whenever you're ready for his company because he'll be over in a heartbeat.

• if anyone gets it, it's Ironhide. your excuse is garbage and untrue, but he'll kid around and poke fun just to get you to laugh. "What, did you just wake up or somethin'?" He really misses your company if you end up canceling, but he makes sure you know that you always look good to him, no matter what. he ultimately respects your boundaries for a couple of hours, and then he's circling your block to make sure you're still alive in there. radio silence is unforgiving, but as much as he misses you, he doesn't want to cross the imaginary line that is your patience. something else must be wrong for you to disappear into your room for the majority of the day, and he intends to get to the bottom of it by the evening.

#sul tf writes #transformers #maccadam #transformers idw #mtmte #sunstreaker #cliffjumper #ratchet #bluestreak #hound #ironhide #transformers x reader #transformers prime #transformers headcanons

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cillians-sweetheart · 2 days ago

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https://www.tumblr.com/cillians-sweetheart/772157725448847360/whos-got-fic-ideas-i-got-writers

Maybe Cills with a younger reader (25-35 ish?) and they actually decided not to have more children but she gets accidentally pregnant? But of angst but ends with fluff? Sorry very basic 😭

Not basic! Love it!! 😋 And I hope you love it too!

A Miracle Arrival - Cillian Murphy

Cillian Murphy(36) x Wife!Reader(25)

Plot: After a date night, Y/N and Cillian put the kids to bed and have some well needed alone time that ends in an unexpected surprise.

Content: kissing, slight sexual content, speak of menstruation, marriage, kids, pregnancy, emotional melt down (f), fluff

During our four years of marriage, people would expect that after a few months, our desires towards each other would just disappear and we wouldn't crave to touch each other day to day. But that wasn’t the case. In a marriage between two heavily passionate lovers meant that our love from our wedding day to today, never changed. Not even fading in the slightest.

Already at age 25, I’ve had 2 beautiful children. The perfect duo of an older daughter (Georgia), and younger son (Christian), ages three and one. Our daughter, now being able to speak full sentences, has begun to develop Cillians accent. But it wasn't surprising as she always took after him, and loved him more than me. And my son is the opposite, a mini me with his looks and attitude.

We decided after having Christian that we were done for children. Having two toddlers was difficult but also I couldn't picture myself going through labour ever again. Two was enough.

On a Friday evening, Cillians mother came by the house to watch the children for a few hours and put them to bed while he and I went out. We learned that monthly dates help keep the spark in our relationship. It wasn’t that we didn’t feel anything towards each other anymore, we just feared that someday that spark would be gone.

“So… I was thinking that after dinner, we would send mom home and just lay low in the bedroom for the night. Yeah?” Cillian offered, holding his glass of wine in his hand. .

“Yes,” I answered, reading through the menu. “I don’t really have the energy for anything fancy. Laying in bed sounds perfect.”

And that’s what we did. At first.

When we got home his mother sat in the living room reading a book, but left shortly after as we were now home. The house was silent and the kids were asleep. We didn’t waste a single moment to finally be lazy after both of our long days.

We changed into comfortable clothes, and cuddled closely beneath the warm duvet. The tv played a show we hadn’t paid attention to and the tension between us grew hotter with each passing moment. And once our single kiss became sloppy and never-ending, the tv came off. As with our clothes.

It all happened so quickly. In just seconds he was above me kissing roughly at my neck, and my legs tightly wrapped around his hips. We didn’t think about anything in the moment, nothing but wanting more from each other's bodies. The pleasure filling both of us made it almost impossible to stay quiet. I had to bite back moans, hiding in his muscular shoulder.

After the hour which felt of 20 minutes, we both fell weak side by side. I didn’t think of anything but just being ready to go to sleep in the arms of the man I loved.

A month went by and life carried on -as usual- I was ‘delightfully’ greeted by an absence of my period. Normally I wouldn’t care, but I’m a week overdue. My heart sank at the possible reason why I was like this. Why I was late, nauseated, and really hungry.

While Cillian was off at work I stopped by the drug store and to the aisle I really didn’t want to be in. With rows and rows of pregnancy tests. I looked over my shoulders and quickly scanned over the several options of tests. I picked the cheapest one to not cause suspicion on Cillian and I’s shared credit card. If it had to come to it, I’d say I bought the kids some candy.

I waited anxiously for the remainder of the day. I was terrified to take that test, but also itching to get an answer. If I were pregnant, I’d need to plan what was going to happen, and if I wasn’t I could’ve been rattled for nothing. So I took the test.

I hid myself in Cillian and I’s bathroom while he made supper for the kids. The test shook from my shaky hands as my eyes squeezed shut waiting for it to be done. And after two minutes, I flipped the little plastic stick towards me. two bright red lines.

My mind went blank. I was in shock, and felt nothing. Until a minute after the fear kicked in and I cried and puked the way I did when pregnant with Christian. All those memories of my fat, stretched skin, and agonzing contractions, came back to me like a bullet to the skull. I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t afford another child, nor could my body. How would I ever tell Cillian…

It wasn’t until 5 minutes later I was able to clear my tears. Quickly, I coated my face in concealer to hide the redness to not cause worry to Cillian or our children. I put on an awkward grin and entered the kitchen to where Cillian had been spoon feeding our youngest, and Georgia putting her food everywheres it wasn't supposed to.

“Hey,” He turned his head towards me, standing straight from kneeling on the floor. “You alright?” He asked with a tilt of his head.

“Yeah I just needed to use the bathroom.” I walked past him with a napkin and wiped our daughter's messy face.

Cillian didn’t take any suspicion, and continued to feed Christian and clean the kitchen. He was always so good with them. Like he could hundreds and do perfectly fine. But there was no way I was having a third child. Because it was me that would actually birth them, not him.

After supper with the kids tucked into bed, Cillian and I sat closely on the couch in the living room watching the Tv. My legs laid over his lap and my head rested against his shoulder. His gentle hand lightly stroked my thigh. I began to remember all those feelings from earlier. The fear, the angst, the pain. Tightness grew in my chest and my face turned cold. I was frozen in my spot. Tears welding in my eyes.

My breath being held and my slight shaking caught Cillian’s attention from the Tv. Taking the remote in his hand, he turned the Tv off and turned his face down to mine.”Y/N? Baby.” He took my cheek in his hand and turned me to look at him. “What’s going on?” His voice held concern but tenderness. His thumb lightly rubbing my cheek.

“I um…” I froze up, looking down with a single tear falling from my right eye. I debated in my head with other answers besides the truth to tell him. I dreaded telling him such a thing.

“What love?” His face leaned down closer to mine with sympathy in his eyes.

“I- I’m pregnant.” My eyes fell down to my lap with shame. It became silent for a moment. An unbreakable tension grew heavy between us.

“Are you- Really?” I nodded with another tear rolling down my cheek. “Oh sweetheart.” Cillian pulled me into his chest, holding me while I broke down into the same emotional state I was when pregnant with Georgia and Christian.

Cillian lightly rubbed my belly while his other hand stroked my back.

“I don't know what to do.” I sniffled and choked on my tears. “I can’t do this… I’m already a crap mom, I- I can't have another one!” I said with irritation mostly towards myself.

“No you’re not love.” Cillian cooed, kissing the top of my head.

“But,” I mumbled. “You do so much for them… while I hide in the bathroom.”

He took my face in my hands looking seriously into my eyes. “A real mother is one who is not afraid to have her own space.”

I looked back at Cillian with adoration and nodded at his words. “I just… my body can’t go through this again.”

“Is it your body, or your mind?”

“I don’t even know anymore…”

“Well, I want you to do whatever it is that feels right. Okay?”

“Mhm,” I nodded. “But if I did somehow want to have another… would you mind?” My watery eyes glared up to his.

“Not at all love, I love our children and would love just as many more.” He grinned the same grin that made me fall in love with him for the first time. I felt the warmth and tenderness in his voice. “Do you want another?”

“Well I don’t want to get rid of this one…” I lightly rubbed my lower belly. Cillian’s hand held over top of mine.

“We don’t have to then. I’d be more than happy for another baby.” He kissed my forehead. “If there was anyway they’d turn out like our already beautiful children, then how could I say no.”

I looked up with a warm smile at him. “Oh I love you…” I said lovingly touching his cheek with my hand.

“I love you too my love.”

And nine months later with Cillian at my side, I was handed the most precious baby girl who held my every feature. My twin. She cooed lightly and her eyes twinkled open for the first time in the light. And when those little eyes fully opened, they melted with love seeing my face.

She was so perfect, an angel little girl. And everyday since the day she was born, I thanked Cillian for being the loving husband he is and teaching me to listen to my heart. Because if I hadn’t that day I wouldn’t have had this sweet girl who I later named Mila. My miracle sent from heaven.

#cillian murphy #cillian x reader #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian x fem!reader #cillian fanfic #cillian fic #cillian murphy fanfiction #Cillian #pregnancy #accidental pregnancy #fluff fic #Cillian Murphy fluff

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gold-onthe-inside · 15 hours ago

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no grave can hold my body down

who? emily prentiss (s7) x teacher!reader summary: your grief over losing emily is forced undone when she re-appears seven months later outside your apartment content warnings: no smut, pg13 though, def suggestive word count: 1.8k songs: tarantino by plvtinum, skin and bones by david kushner, i wanna be yours by sofia karlberg

You had never been one to kid yourself — your life was probably as mundane as it could get, the highs and lows scored by the school bell, hefting a pile of essays to correct at home with a glass of wine darker than the red you mark up your papers with. Seven months ago, you might have had company over, a certain raven-haired woman with dark lipstick and a low cut top, her handgun and badge stowed away somewhere.

You’d met at a seminar on school shootings, one that was district-wide, the appointed representive for your school, and for some inexplicable reason, you had caught her eye. She’d been the one to make the first move, obviously. Women who look and sound like Emily Prentiss always get what they want. Two drinks had loosened your lips, the magnetic charm of her dark gaze drawing you closer to her, leading to her brownstone apartment, much nicer than yours.

You let out a slow, shaky breath as you walked to your car, a blushing orange painting the sky as you left the essays in the passenger seat and closed the door behind you, and when you bit your lower lip, you can remember how Emily would have used her thumb to pull it free, tipping your chin back to kiss you smoothly. Seven months in the grave and she still wouldn’t leave you alone.

“I’m not looking for a relationship,” she had whispered and you hadn’t cared. It had feverish and each kiss felt like molasses, thick and rich, her hands running all over your neck, then down to grasp your thigh. Her fingers slowly pulled up the edge of your skirt, pushing it up as her hand slowly made its way up your thigh, all the while continuing to kiss you hard. She was so focused, so determined, like all she wanted in the world was to take you entirely as her own.

Your breath had been so sweet, the faintest taste of bourbon shared between your lips as the kiss turned hungry and demanding, Emily’s tongue pressing between your lips to taste the warmth of your mouth, a low groan escaping her lips as she grasped at the hem of your blouse.

You dropped your head on the back of your seat, running a hand through your hair — how many times was your body was going to torture you like this? It was like Emily was a part of you, the absence of her touch, of her presence, aching like a missing limb. You pulled out your phone, replaying old voicemails just to hear the sound of her voice. Calls from hotel rooms across the country, telling you that she was thinking of you. A dark and enigmatic woman turning into a soft kitten, leaving you cheesy messages about how she wondered if you were looking at the same moon as her.

You weren’t even her girlfriend, or so you kept having to remind yourself when she reappeared once a week with a book she thought you’d like. Some people collected mugs, or fridge magnets from airports. Emily brought you books, books that you’d devour and tab and text her about in your lunch hours. Who’s got you smiling like that? they would tease, and you’d reply with a smile and a shake of your head. Who was Emily to you? Someone who had snuggled into your chest, warming your heart, and then leaving you, cold and hollow. Just something to house her in until the phone rang.

Somehow, you managed to gather your wits long enough to get yourself home, a cheap place in a surburban part of DC, and you left the dusty red sedan with your bag, your essays, and your car keys, hands too full to get to your apartment keys when you hear her first.

“Need a hand?” she asked, not as cocky and self-assured as you remember and you looked up to see her standing outside your building and you almost drop your things, staring at Emily. Sure, she’s haunted you every day since you met her, but you’ve never had a full-on hallucination. Your lips parted, frozen to the spot and Emily cautiously approached you, gently reaching for your papers.

“I…” You have no words. “Are you real?” you asked, your voice barely above a breath and Emily looked so… sad.

“I… um..” she said, the sadness in your eyes breaking her heart, so she gave you a small smile. “Yeah, I’m real. It’s okay… It’s okay, I promise I have an explanation for all of this,” she said, her voice desperate. You’ve never heard her desperate, not like this, with her heart in her hands. “Can we go inside, please?” Emily asked you, stirring you from your reverie and you fumble for your apartment keys, your head buzzing in confusion, like a television with no signal.

She’s quiet as she followed you in to your apartment, helping you set your things down so she could follow you into your living room. She didn’t know exactly how to tell you everything and make it all okay, so she just sighed, her hands nervously fiddling as she began to recount the story. To your credit, you listened to her without interrupting once; the undercover assignment, the international terrorist hunting her down, her old team members being killed one by one. You listen to all of it, your chest caving in as she spoke.

“I didn’t want to leave you,” she whispered softly, her eyes locked on to yours. “I’ve missed you.”

"You missed me?" you asked hollowly, looking at her.

“Yeah,” Emily sighed softly, knowing that she didn’t deserve you, but she would tell the truth, no matter how difficult it was. “I thought about you every night, even when I knew I shouldn’t.”

Your hands ran over your face, unable to help the thoughts that plagued you every time she would tell you about her work. You don’t belong here. This whole thing was so laughable that you actually snorted a little in derision at your own stupidity. “I teach high school English, Emily,” you scoffed, unable to look at her. “God, what was I thinking, getting involved with a federal agent?”

“I know,” Emily whispered, and you can hear her voice cracking slightly. She had hurt you, and she had known exactly what she was doing when she had asked you to be her… whatever you were to her. She had only wanted you a little bit, had told you that she couldn’t give you all of her, because she didn’t trust that you could keep her all to yourself, and she regretted each and every one of those words. But her regrets wouldn’t help you, so she simply asked, “Is there anything I can do to fix this?”

"Fix what, Emily?" you asked, not quite angry but, like you had given up the fight. "Come on, who are we kidding with this? We don't... Emily, we don't belong together. An international spy and an English teacher?"

She hadn’t expected you to welcome her back with open arms, even though she’s wanted you to, especially after she thought about you every day for months, the taste of you lingering on her lips as she lay awake in bed. But the hurt she had done to you was greater than any of the good she’d done, and she just asked, “What do you want me to do? Do you want me to go?”

You looked at her, your eyes heartbroken. "I want you to stay," you said quietly. "I always want you to stay. But I just... I don't think you're the kind of person who stays."

Her throat tightens at your words and she sighs, nodding her head. She looks down at the floor, closing her eyes for a moment as she tries not to cry. “I don’t have the best track record,” she admitted softly, “but you’re not just some person. Not to me,” she whispered softly, her hand gently reaching for yours. She didn’t pull you close, but simply held your hand, giving you a sad look as she softly said, “I don’t want to go.”

You looked at your hands, taking a breath before intertwining your fingers with hers. She can’t help but smile at that and she squeezed your hand, taking comfort in the warm touch of your fingers. She’d missed the feel of your skin against hers, and she wondered if you had missed her just as much. "I don't want you to go," you whispered, looking up at her.

“I don’t want to go,” she repeated with a small smile and she pulled you a little closer, resting her forehead against yours. “Not unless you ask me to.”

"You know I won't," you murmured, closing your eyes, her heat making you dizzy.

“Then I’ll stay,” she whispered softly, and she finally leaned down, meeting your lips with a gentle kiss. You taste just as good as she remembered. You let go of her hands, cupping her face to kiss her harder. She sighed into your mouth, her hand gently cupping your cheek, pulling you a little closer to make the kiss deeper. She’s almost afraid that you’ll disappear, but with your arms wrapped around her neck, she feels safe for the first time in months.

continued... (nsfw, mdni)

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #emily x reader #criminal minds x reader #teacher!reader #emily prentiss angst #my fics #emily prentiss fanfiction #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss x female reader #emily prentiss smut

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majestyeverlasting · 1 day ago

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Hello! If you are willing I would like to request a Frankie morales x reader oneshot? 🙃🙃 im obsessed with Frankie x wife reader lately and I was thinking maybe you could write somethin where the reader is pregnant and having cramps / contractions while Frankie is out with his friends and calls him all freaked out but even though it’s just false labour he still rushes home anyway?🥰🥰

(I love your writing btw I hope you accept this request thank you <3)

𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐚𝐲 | 𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐬

Pairing Frankie Morales x Female Reader

Summary A night of laughter, love, and quiet devotion reminds you and Frankie how much your world has grown—especially with your baby on the way.

A/N Thank you so much for this request and your patience, anon! This is my first time writing for Frankie, so let me know what you guys think.

⠂⠁⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂

Across the living room, the evening news drones so low, the TV might as well not be on at all. Ten minutes ago, Frankie left you alone on the couch to go get ready for a night out. You’d looked up from your book long enough to catch the wink he shot you before disappearing up the staircase.

As easy as it would be for him to stay in, you insisted he go out and enjoy himself. The two of you had finally settled into your new home. Soon enough, the guys were starting to rib him about falling off the face of the earth.

He's getting better at striking a balance these days.

“Alright, hermosa,” he announces as he descends the stairs. “Here’s what I’m working with...”

Frankie walks back into the living room in dark-wash jeans and a sage button down. As you set your book aside, he offers a goofy spin in a lighthearted mockery of what you oftentimes do. You try to restrain your smile, but it shines through anyways. Frankie grins like he’s won a prize, teeth glinting along with the sparkle in his dark eyes.

Everyone said he was trouble when you first met. It didn’t take long to realize they meant the intoxicating kind that disarms a room, draws people in, makes them feel seen. The kind you’d never recover from losing if you let slip away.

A year ago, he got down on one knee and asked you for forever. That was the moment you realized that, in turn, you were the trouble he couldn’t bear to lose.

Before you have the chance to stand, he stalks over to you and leans down to capture your lips in a brief, tender kiss.

You smile when he pulls away to stand back up to his full height, all six feet and broad shoulders. Looking up at him from your seated position feels a little funny, but you can't bring yourself to mind. If for no other reason than the gentle way he pinches your upturned chin between his thumb and forefinger.

“Have fun,” you murmur as you blink up at him.

“I will.”

“And be safe.”

“Yes ma’am.” Frankie’s touch falls away, and you stand to wrap your arms around his neck.

You tuck your nose into his shirt as his strong arms encircle your waist. He smooths a large hand up your back before stilling at the nape of your neck to deliver a firm but gentle squeeze. As he starts to pull away, you slip your fingers into his hair to scratch his scalp with your nails. It’s been a while since his last haircut, and now the dark strands curl beneath his ears.

Frankie hums a low note of satisfaction. “Not fair.”

“Completely fair,” you lilt.

He chuckles and pulls back enough to meet your gaze. His eyes are soft as he says, “Should be back in a couple hours.”

“I’ll wait up.”

"You don't have to," he says.

"Don't I always?"

He thinks back over the times he's gone out without you, and yeah. You always do.

•••

It's quiet when he arrives back home.

He kicks his boots off at the door and notices a pink sticky note on the wall above the key holder. There's a smiley face and heart drawn on it along with "welcome back!!!" Frankie feels himself smiling as he plucks it off the wall and saunters further into the house.

In the living room, one lamp remains on so he can navigate his way through the otherwise dark space. You've folded the throw blanket. Fluffed and arranged the pillows like you do every night before bed. It’s the little things like that, little signs of life, that he’ll never tire of coming back home to.

When Frankie finally enters the bedroom, he sees your smile in the warm, dim lamplight. You're kneeling on the bed wearing the cutesy black pajama set he likes on you. A breathy chuckle escapes him as he takes you in before his eyes find yours.

He plays off the warmth in his cheeks by holding up the sticky note you had left for him.

You tilt your head with innocent, furrowed brows. “Where’d that come from?”

“Beats me," he plays along as you slide off the bed.

He sets the note on the dresser so he can rest his hands on your waist when you approach. The scent of vanilla evades his senses in the gentlest way.

“Did you have fun?” It’s a genuine question, but his mind goes fuzzy when you smooth your hands from his stomach up to his pecs.

With a distracted nod, his thumbs slip beneath your satin tank top to brush your skin. All he can think about is the gentleness of your touch. The way you begin to toy with the button at the top of his shirt without actually unbuttoning it.

“But not too much fun, right?” you ask. “You’re not too tired, are you?”

You finally pop the first button undone, then the next one, then the next. Revealing more and more of the dusting of hair across his tanned chest.

Rather than answering, he scoops you over his shoulder as you squeak his name.

Eight Months Later

It’s been a while since Frankie laughed this hard. When he’s finally on the verge of catching his breath, Santiago picks up from where Will left off in the story, and that pleasant side ache returns. If he weren't too busy swiping the tear from his eye, he reckons he’d see every head in the bar turned to gawk at the four cackling hyenas. A live country rock band plays as their soundtrack.

Luckily, that isn’t the case. Like them, everybody is lost in their own little worlds. With their own inside jokes and old stories that endure no matter how many times they're told.

“And that’s what your ass gets for trying to show off,” Will concludes. It earns him a prompt elbow to the side from his younger brother, whose cheeks are either flushed from the whiskey or embarrassment.

It had been the story about Benny getting told off by a group of older women during a group trip to Panama. Not in English, but in Spanish. The icing on the cake was that they had been pausing every few words so Santiago could translate for them in real time.

As their amusement begins to settle, they look around at each other and shake their heads. It’s been too long since they’ve gotten together like this. Frankie takes a small swig from his beer and lets his head rest against the wall behind him.

Under the dim lights, with drinks on the table, and surrounded by strangers, it feels as though no time has passed at all.

Benny’s eyes rove over to the recreation room, where people shoot pool and throw darts.

“I don’t know about y’all, but I’m ready to kick some ass in a game of 501,” he says.

William folds his hands on the table. “We puttin' money up?”

“Hell yeah, we are,” Benny scoffs and pulls a face. “I’m leaving here with something.”

“Twenty-five each and the winning team splits the pot?” Santiago proposes. “I call Fish on my team.” He gives Frankie's shoulder a squeeze.

Benny drums a beat on the table. “Let’s do it.”

They’re in the middle of scooting past other patrons when Frankie’s phone begins buzzing in his pocket. He doesn’t expect to see a picture of your face light up the screen. Santiago is the only one in the group who notices.

“Gotta take this,” Frankie tells him, and answers the call as he turns away.

“Hang on one second, honey, I’m getting someplace quiet.”

To make it to the front of the establishment, he shuffles between a small sea of tables filled with people with loose smiles and glowy faces. He holds the door open for a group of young ladies filing inside, which earns him a series of chirpy thank-yous. The giddy energy of the night fades once he’s outside, as if it was all stuffed within the walls of Dave's Bar and Grill. With the patio being around back, only a few people stand smoking out front.

The air is warm. A couple of the parking lot lights flicker. Frankie heads toward one of the benches as he says, “Alright, sweetheart, I’m here.”

A heavy breath is the first thing that greets him from the other end of the line.

“Frankie,” your voice is shaky, and his brow furrows as he takes a seat.

“Talk to me,” he coaxes, his voice even softer.

“I’m cramping pretty bad right now.” You take another deep breath. “I think it’s the Braxton Hicks the nurse was telling us about. They’re finally happening.”

He stands from the bench and begins pacing along the curb. “You sure they're the false ones?” he asks. “You know you’re body better than anybody else…”

“I’m ninety-nine percent sure.” Another sharp ache pulses low in your stomach, and makes you bite back a small whine.

Frankie releases his lower lip from between his teeth as guilt tugs at his chest. “Go lay down, okay?” he says as he fishes his truck keys out of his pocket. “Or run yourself a bath if you can manage. Nurse said that’s supposed to help.”

Shuffling arises on your end. “Okay,” you murmur.

“I’m on my way.”

Tonight, you can’t muster the willpower to tell him to stay out with his friends. Ever since you hit the thirty-four-week mark, you’ve been hyper-aware of every pang, flutter, and gurgle. Even if you were the one feeling the heat, it was easier to walk through the flames with him.

“Drive safe, okay?” you say. “Go the speed limit.”

“I’m always safe.” It’s a white lie, but he was getting much better. Especially now that he was about to have two people looking forward to him arriving home in one piece at the end of the day.

Life is a delicate, fragile, remarkable thing. It’s a fact that solidified all the more the first time you showed him a black-and-white ultrasound and pointed out your little girl.

“I’ll be there soon,” he promises.

Santiago steps outside as he's hanging up, immediately scoping out Frankie.

“Everything alright, man?” He searches Frankie’s gaze. He’s always analyzing and piecing together. People, places, things. Frankie doesn’t have to say anything. “Your wife and baby okay?”

Frankie nods, but there’s worry etched across his face. “Gonna head home to be on the safe side.”

“I’ll let the guys know.” Santiago pulls Frankie into a hug and gives him a few pats on the back. “It was good seeing you tonight.”

“Likewise.”

“Guess it’ll have to be a playdate next time,” Santiago teases.

Frankie cracks a smile.

•••

With the bathroom door cracked, you can hear the familiar shuffling of Frankie entering the house. His keys clink into the bowl shortly before the steps begin to creak under his weight. One purposeful footstep after the next, until he’s filling the doorway with a hand on his hip. But you sit in the bathtub with your eyes closed and your head tipped back. The subtle scent of lavender fills the humid air. You’re only visible from your collarbones up, and your pregnant stomach rises above the bubbly water.

Rather than speaking, he stands there and takes you in with those soft, dark eyes. You’re beautiful where you lay. His gaze is palpable, and opening your eyes to meet it solidifies for him that you’re okay. It's a silent assurance. These moments when you don't need words have only grown in number. Every trace of worry that once existed has dwindled away.

As he takes a small step inside, he tosses his baseball cap onto the sink counter and runs a hand through his hair. Tension melts from his shoulders in real time. Makes him look even taller where he stands.

“Hey,” he breathes.

“Hi,” you say, then note, "Your shoes."

The teasing undertone to your words makes him chuckle. At himself, at the fact that he’d rushed home, despite your warning, with a head full of clamoring thoughts. Thoughts of arriving to you in labor and having to deliver his own child. Or packing you into his truck and needing to pull over and do the very same. There was no middle ground.

He’d dedicated years of his life to working under the most intense pressure, but it was his pregnant wife who’d finally thrown that composure off course.

Yet here you were pointing out the fact that he had tracked his shoes upstairs.

Frankie crouches to untie his boots before kicking them off his feet. He stumbles in the process and has to brace himself on the sink. The smile already budding on your face blooms into a fuller one when he huffs and peeks over at you. When you straighten up, the water sloshes and reveals more of you chest.

A long sigh escapes him as he sits alongside the tub and stretches his long legs out in front of him. That’s when a laugh bubbles up your throat. Despite his best efforts to retrain his own amusement, he can’t help but join in. The two of you sit there laughing in a mix of relief and acceptance of the fact that your worlds have only just begun to change.

A comfortable silence soon settles in the space between you. Frankie gets an almost wistful look about him as he stares straight ahead.

“What are you thinking about?” you ask after a while.

He rests his arm on the side of the tub. “Us,” he answers. “Being parents.”

There’s an understated sense of anticipation in his tone that he still hasn’t been able to put into words. A small hint of apprehension lingers too, but the type that propels as opposed to paralyzes.

You hum as you run a wet hand over your glistening stomach.

“I love you,” he continues softly. “I love her.”

He reaches out to splay his large hand over your stomach. You smile as he continues talking, “Love that I get to do this with you.”

Fondness swells in your chest all the more. Like a third lung set on sustaining you too.

“I’d kiss you right now, but I don’t know how,” you admit.

Without hesitating, Frankie shifts so he’s able to steady your chin and press his lips to yours. You lift a hand to rest the tips of your fingers against his scruffy cheek. Frankie hums when you ghost your tongue along his lower lip, only to pull away like you have something to say. Before you can speak, he presses back in for one more soft peck, then touches his forehead to yours.

You feel yourself smiling. “What I was trying to say,” you start, but Frankie kisses you again because you’re right there, and because he can.

Butterflies erupt all throughout your stomach.

“Go ahead,” he finally coaxes with a small smile, lips brushing yours. “What were you gonna say, hermosa?” There’s a gruff, honeyed quality to his voice that you’re certain is intentional.

“That I love you too,” you whisper.

Thanks for reading! Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. I promise I see them all!

FRANKIE MASTERLIST

ALL MASTERLISTS

#frankie morales #catfish morales #frankie morales fanfic #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales fic #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x female reader #frankie morales x pregnant reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x y/n #triple frontier #pedro pascal #frankie morales smut

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promptedwordsmith · 1 day ago

Text

What are the LaDS like at Christmas?

Really late but had this in my drafts for a really long time and didn't want to have to wait another year to post it <3

Caleb:

It was Christmas Eve, the air crisp with a gentle frost, and the house was wrapped in the quiet warmth of holiday lights. The faint scent of cinnamon and pine mingled in the air, the sound of carols softly playing in the background. Outside, the world was blanketed in snow, but inside, it was nothing but the comforting glow of the tree and the crackling of the fireplace.

Caleb stood by the window, his silhouette framed by the soft glow of the streetlights outside. He was still wearing his uniform, though he had taken off his jacket. His purple eyes were lost in thought, staring at the snowflakes that danced in the winter air. It wasn’t often that he allowed himself moments of calm like this—especially not with his responsibilities weighing so heavily on his shoulders—but tonight, he made an exception. Tonight, he was here, with you.

Turning away from the window, his gaze softened as he caught sight of you, nestled in the cozy armchair by the fire. A gentle smile tugged at his lips, a rare sight these days, one that was just for you. His footsteps were light on the hardwood floors as he approached, his presence familiar and grounding.

“Hey,” he murmured, his voice low and warm, like a promise you didn’t have to question. He crouched down beside you, reaching for your hand, his fingers brushing gently over yours, as though afraid you might disappear if he touched you too roughly.

You looked up at him, your heart swelling at the tenderness in his eyes. For all the weight of his duties, all the walls he put up, this side of Caleb—this gentle, romantic Caleb—was still there. He hadn’t forgotten how to love you in the quiet, simple ways that mattered most.

“I’m glad we’re here,” he said, his voice almost a whisper. “I don’t need anything more than this—just you, and... the quiet.”

You smiled, leaning into him as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. His warmth enveloped you, and for a moment, there was no Colonel, no coldness. Just Caleb, the man you had known all your life, and the man who still cherished you, even in the midst of everything that had changed.

“Happy Christmas,” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, his breath warm against your skin.

In that moment, everything felt right. Even if it was fleeting, Caleb’s love was something you would hold onto—now, and always.

Rafayel

It was the night of Rafayel's latest exhibition, and you were there—not exactly for the art, but to make sure he didn’t disappear into the night again. Last time, Thomas had nearly lost his mind when Rafayel went missing for hours, leaving the gallery empty. Tonight, though, Rafayel spent the majority of the evening whining to you.

"I just want to go home, relax... Can't we leave already?" he grumbled, slouching against you, his eyes practically pleading with you.

You couldn’t help but laugh lightly, your heart warming at the sight of him. It was hard to imagine this carefree, childish side of him as the same person who, just moments ago, had been impeccably poised and professional as patrons arrived to admire his art.

"I thought you were supposed to be an artist," you teased, nudging him playfully.

"Ugh, I am an artist," he sighed, exasperated, but you knew the moment the crowd would thin, he’d turn back into his sulking self. Sure enough, the moment the room emptied and it was just the two of you, he slumped against you once more, his voice low and full of irritation.

"Is it time to leave yet?"

You giggled, shaking your head. His frustration was endearing, but you understood why he hated the bustle of it all. In truth, you were in the same boat. Though you’d been surrounded by art and people all evening, it felt like you hadn’t had much time together at all, and Rafayel hated that.

The second it was acceptable to leave, he was practically dragging you out the door. You tried to keep up as he moved quickly, a sense of urgency in his steps. You smiled to yourself—he was so impatient when it came to being away from you.

When you finally reached his studio home, Rafayel turned to you with a mischievous grin. “Wait outside,” he instructed, his tone sharp, and for a moment, you couldn’t help but frown.

It was December, and the cold air made your breath visible in the night. But you didn’t protest, curious as to what he had planned. It wasn’t long before Rafayel appeared at the door again, this time with a blindfold in hand. "Come on, just trust me," he said with a smile.

You allowed him to tie the blindfold over your eyes, the anticipation building with every passing second. He guided you carefully through the door, and when he finally removed the blindfold, the sight before you took your breath away.

The entire house was covered in sparkling decorations—glimmering lights, pine garlands, and little trinkets that looked like they’d been picked just for this moment. The room felt warm and alive, despite the chill outside. The holiday magic that you’d been missing, that had been absent from the exhibition, filled the air.

Before you could say a word, you turned to Rafayel, feeling overwhelmed by the beauty of the moment, and kissed him on the cheek.

His cheeks flushed bright red, his expression softening for a brief moment, but he quickly turned his head away, as if pretending the whole thing was no big deal. "It’s... nothing," he mumbled, though you could see the tiny, satisfied smile tugging at his lips.

The holidays felt so much more real in that quiet moment, and for once, it was just the two of you—no distractions, no exhibitions, just warmth, love, and the peace of knowing you finally had this time together.

Sylus

The evening air is crisp, tinged with the faint scent of snow, as Sylus leads you through the quiet streets, his hand warm against yours. You notice the subtle confidence in his stride, the way he carries himself, never rushing, as if time itself bends to his will. The flicker of nearby streetlights casts long shadows, but with him, everything feels different—safe, contained, almost serene.

You reach the restaurant, a lavish building tucked away from the usual bustle. Its exterior is adorned with wreaths of greenery and strands of gold lights, each one shimmering in the night. A private venue, reserved just for the two of you. No one else. The doors open before you can reach them, revealing the soft glow of candlelight spilling into the street.

Inside, the atmosphere is nothing short of magical. The restaurant is transformed—Christmas in every corner. Garlands of fresh pine stretch across the ceiling, dotted with twinkling fairy lights. A towering tree, adorned with delicate ornaments and a star that glows brighter than the rest, stands proudly by the window. The whole room smells like cinnamon and pine, an aroma that settles around you like a warm blanket.

He guides you to the center of the room, where a table for two sits beneath a canopy of softly glowing lights. A fire crackles in a hearth nearby, casting flickering shadows over the elegantly set table. Gold-rimmed glasses catch the light, and the soft clink of fine china seems to echo in the silence between you.

Sylus doesn’t speak immediately, only looking at you with that quiet, knowing smile. There’s a warmth in his gaze—something deeper than the usual sharpness, something softer, as if this night, this moment, means more than he’s willing to say.

When he finally speaks, his voice is smooth, low. "I thought it would be a night worth remembering," he says, his fingers brushing over your hand, lingering just a moment longer than necessary. "For you." His smile lingers, teasing, yet there's something unspoken in his tone, an unspoken sentiment wrapped in the cool, steady confidence of the man he is.

As the evening unfolds, the two of you dine beneath the glowing tree, laughter and conversation weaving effortlessly between the courses. The world outside fades away—only the warmth of his presence, the flicker of candlelight, and the glow of the tree remain.

When the dessert course arrives, a decadent chocolate soufflé, Sylus raises his glass to you. The glint of his red eyes, the soft curve of his smile, all speak of something deeper—a connection, a quiet promise that, just for tonight, all that matters is this moment.

Xavier

The scent of cinnamon and chocolate fills the apartment, curling through the air like something out of a dream. Outside, snow drapes over the city like a thick, quiet blanket, the streets empty, the world hushed. You glance at the clock—Tara was supposed to come, but with the storm growing worse, she sent a regretful text. Looks like it’s just the two of you tonight.

Not that you mind.

Across the room, Xavier stands near the kitchen, watching you with an unreadable expression. Not disinterest—no, something softer. Something almost hesitant, like he’s still figuring out why he’s here, in the warmth of your apartment, instead of out there in the cold.

“Xavier,” you say, turning toward him with a wooden spoon in hand, “don’t even think about coming in here.”

He blinks, tilting his head slightly. “I wasn’t.”

“You were.” You narrow your eyes at him, setting the spoon down with unnecessary dramatics. “I don’t trust you near open flames.”

He exhales, the closest thing to a laugh he ever really gives, and steps back—not far, but enough to lean against the wall and watch you work. The quiet hum of Christmas music plays in the background, something soft, something old, and for a while, the only sounds between you are the clink of mugs and the rustle of cookie dough being shaped.

When the cocoa is ready, you hand him a mug. He doesn’t drink right away. Instead, he just holds it, fingers curled around the warmth, gaze flickering from the string lights lining the windows to you, standing there in the glow of the Christmas tree.

You nudge his shoulder gently. “Come on, help me redecorate.”

The tree is already decorated��mostly. But as you start adjusting ornaments, he follows your lead, mimicking your movements with quiet focus. His hands are careful, precise, like he’s handling something far more delicate than a glass bauble. And when you get tangled in the strands of colored lights, Xavier’s breath catches for half a second.

You don’t notice at first. You just reach for him. “A little help?”

His fingers brush yours as he moves to untangle the lights, but instead of pulling away, he hesitates. The glow from the tree reflects in your eyes, soft and warm, and before he even thinks about it—

He lifts your hand and presses a kiss to your fingertips.

It’s barely there—a ghost of warmth against your skin. A silent moment, delicate and unspoken. He doesn’t say anything after, and neither do you. You don’t have to. Because in that small, fleeting gesture, you already know.

Zayne

It had been a long shift. The sterile hum of the hospital still lingered in Zayne’s mind as he stepped into the quiet apartment, the door clicking shut behind him. His coat was draped over his arm, his tie loosened, and his glasses were slightly askew from the long hours spent under bright, sterile lights.

He had promised himself he wouldn’t linger too long on the weight of his shift, but it was hard to shake off the exhaustion. He could feel the dull ache in his shoulders from the day’s work. Yet, as he entered the living room, all that seemed to melt away.

The soft glow of the Christmas lights twinkling across the room cast a gentle warmth in the air, bathing everything in a dreamy haze. The tree, draped in gold and silver, stood quietly in the corner. The scent of pine, mingled with the faint warmth of the lights, made everything feel still, serene.

And there, on the couch, was you. Wrapped in a blanket, tucked in a way that seemed effortless, yet perfect—like you had fallen asleep in a moment of pure peace. Zayne’s heart softened, a tenderness flickering in his chest. He could hardly bear the thought of disturbing you, but the sight of you—vulnerable, relaxed, and so very much a part of the calm in the room—compelled him to act.

He knelt down beside the couch, careful not to wake you. Gently, he lifted you in his arms, cradling you with the practiced care that came so naturally to him. His hands, strong yet tender, guided you to the bedroom, where he tucked you in, making sure the blanket draped perfectly around your shoulders. He leaned over you for a moment, his gaze soft, taking in the peaceful expression on your face.

Just as he was about to step back, your eyes fluttered open, the drowsiness still lingering in your gaze. You blinked, and then—slowly—your hand reached up to touch his face, a faint smile curling on your lips.

“Merry Christmas,” you whispered, your voice thick with sleep. You leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss on the tip of his nose.

Zayne froze, his heart stuttering for a moment. A warmth spread across his chest, something deeper than the exhaustion of the day.

“Merry Christmas,” he murmured back, his voice low, a small smile breaking through his usual stoic demeanor.

You nestled back into the pillows, and within moments, you were asleep again, your breathing slow and steady. He stood there for a moment longer, just watching, utterly enchanted by the simplicity of the moment—the way you had so effortlessly brought warmth into his life, even in the quietest of ways.

The soft Christmas lights blinked on, a calm, peaceful reminder of everything he held dear, especially you.

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