#darling moved to Washington | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ewanmitchellcrumbs · 1 year ago

Text

Lonely This Christmas

Pairing: Billy Washington (Trigger Point) x f!reader Warnings: Dark and obsessive behaviour, stalking, smut, dubious consent. Word count: ~4.5k

Summary: On a rare occasion when her and Billy both find themselves home for Christmas at the same time, they admit they've always fancied each other. However, as things develop between them, she soon realises that for Billy it's something much more sinister than a harmless crush. Based on this request.

Author's note: For my darling @heimtathurs. I don't have a tag list. Please follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications. Community labels are for cops.

She walks up the pathway to the front door, the combination of the bitter cold and the handles of the plastic carrier bag cutting into her flesh causing her fingers to sting painfully. The cans in the bag clank noisily against each other as she jostles it from one hand to the other, raising her fist to knock at the door. Her breath comes in hot, cloudy puffs as she shifts from foot to foot, relief flooding through her as she sees the silhouette of her best friend, Lana, appear through the glass in the door.

“Let me in then!” She grumbles, pushing past and handing Lana the bag, once the door is open. “It’s bloody freezing out there!”

It’s December 23rd, and time for her and Lana’s annual tradition of Christmas Eve Eve film night - a ritual that they’ve managed to keep alive since they first met in secondary school, though as the years have passed their taste in films has matured and they can now sit and openly drink beer, instead of needing to sneak a bottle of MD 20:20 back and forth between them beneath a duvet, like they did as teenagers.

The location never changes - always at Lana’s parents’ house - even now that she’s moved out, she always comes home for two weeks over the festive period, and like clockwork the two of them sit on the sofa the evening before Christmas Eve and stare at the TV until they can no longer keep their eyes open.

She shrugs off her coat as she moves through the hallway, into the living room, the warmth from the central heating causing her skin to prickle with the pleasant rise in temperature. Rolling her eyes as she spies the DVD case for Die Hard on the coffee table, she sits heavily down on the sofa, kicking her shoes off and tucking her legs beneath her.

“We watched this last year,” she says to Lana, who follows a few paces behind, having deposited the contents of the bag into the fridge in the kitchen, “It’s not even a Christmas film!”

“It’s set at Christmas, so it’s a Christmas film,” Lana shoots back, handing her a can of Stella, before flopping down beside her and cracking open her own. “And Bruce Willis in that vest? I’m gripped.”

She snorts a laugh, opening her own beer and taking a deep sip, enjoying the way the coolness of the bitter liquid fizzes against her tongue.

“How’ve you been anyway? Your mum and dad not in?”

Lana swallows and pokes at the inside of her cheek with her tongue. “Nah, they’re out for the evening, think they could use a break since face-ache moved back in. I’ve only been back here a few days and he’s already doing my head in.”

She feels her cheeks heat up at the mention of Billy. She’d met Lana’s younger brother when he’d started at the same secondary school as them and, although he was a couple of years below them, she’d always thought he was cute. He was tall, if a little on the lanky side, and his floppy blonde hair and big blue eyes instantly attracted her to him. She’d kept the fact that she fancied him to herself though, feeling it was inappropriate to lust after her best mate’s brother, especially a younger brother.

As the years had passed, Billy’s seemingly permanent cheeky smile had faded into a persistent look of misery. He’d done badly at school, left with failing grades and been rejected each time he’d tried to apply to join the army.

Meanwhile, Lana had flourished, leaving school with a handful of As and Bs. She’d enrolled at college, before enlisting in the army and from there her career in the police force had taken off. She’d moved away from home, had a place of her own and had made her parents proud.

Billy, on the other hand, had struggled with chronic unemployment, eventually falling in with an alt right group who had set him up for a potential terrorist attack. He’d barely escaped the explosion on Cranstead Gardens, and had never really pulled himself back together afterwards. His relationship with his long-term girlfriend, Becky, had broken down and he’d moved out of their flat and back in with his parents, where he’d been living for the last six months.

She hasn’t seen Billy since they left school, but Lana tells her all about him whenever they hang out or chat on the phone. She’s always felt strangely protective of him, where Lana and her parents have given Billy a hard time, she has opted for a softer touch, believing he just needs someone to understand him.

“You can’t be so hard on him,” she says, finger pinging against the ringpull of her can absentmindedly, “he’s been through a lot.”

Lana sighs, grabbing the remote from the coffee table. “You don’t know him like I do. He’s not paying any rent, never tidies up, isn’t bothering to look for work. We can’t help him, he won’t let us, doesn’t wanna help himself.”

“Where is he at the moment?”

“Skulking around upstairs,” Lana nods towards the staircase. “First Christmas he’s not spent at Becky’s mum’s in a long time and he’s taking it…well, I couldn’t tell you how he’s taking it, he never leaves his bloody room.”

She nods sadly, letting the topic go as they settle back into the sofa cushions as the opening credits for Die Hard begin to roll.

“I’m empty,” Lana says around twenty minutes into the film, shaking her beer can. “You want another?”

“It’s alright, I’ll go,” she tell hers, taking her empty and heading towards the kitchen, eager for a break from a film she had no interest in watching last year, let alone again this year.

She chucks the cans into the recycling bin, before opening the fridge and retrieving two more. She yelps as she closes the door, startled by Billy standing there.

“Jesus, Billy–”

“Sorry, sorry…” he mumbles apologetically, a tinge of pink dusting itself across his cheek bones, as he averts his gaze. “Wasn’t tryna scare ya, just came down to make a cuppa.”

She exhales through her nose, a smile tugging at her lips. “S’alright. How are you getting on, anyway? It’s been a while.”

“Yeah…” he says uncertainly, filling the kettle from the sink and then flicking it on to boil. “Guessing you heard what happened then?”

She nods, placing the cans on the side and wiping the condensation off of her hands onto her jeans. “Lana told me. I’m so sorry, Billy, I really hope you’re okay.”

He says nothing for a moment, dropping a tea bag into a mug, followed by a generous pour of milk.

Milk first. Ugh.

“It’s been hard, y’know,” he finally says, “tryna find work, but there’s fuck all out there. What are you up to these days? You’re looking well.”

The sudden shift in focus doesn’t go unnoticed by her, he’s clearly not keen to talk about himself, but she can’t help but smile at the small compliment, feeling herself grow bashful.

“Got a job at a marketing agency,” she tells him, “nothing fancy, but it pays the rent.”

She’s actually a high ranking executive, living in one of the area’s most expensive flat blocks and has a tidy sum saved away for a deposit to eventually buy a place of her own. She’s unsure of why she’s downplaying her achievements, perhaps on some level she feels she owes it to Billy to not rub her success in his face when he’s clearly having a rough time of it.

The kettle boils and Billy fills his mug, stirring the tea bag around with a spoon, before squeezing it out with his fingers, making her wince - that has to burn, but if it does it doesn’t appear to bother him. He discards the used bag on the side, before turning to her. She can see what Lana means about him not tidying up now, it would have taken two steps for him to put it in the bin, and he hasn’t bothered. The laziness almost makes her want to laugh.

“So you and Lana doing your film night then?” He asks, noisily slurping his tea, then fixing her with a soft, yet unblinking gaze.

The intensity of his baby blue eyes flusters her, and for a moment she forgets what he’s asked, feeling the same old butterflies from their school days return. She clears her throat, shaking her head as if to rid herself of the feeling.

“Y-yeah…I’m surprised you remember. You were a teenager the last time we did one of those with you here,” she smiles warmly.

He nods, keeping a hand wrapped around his mug, pushing off of the kitchen side towards her and suddenly she’s aware of just how tall he’s grown, her throat running dry as she feels the kitchen counter bite into her back as she presses herself against it.

She deflates slightly, letting go of a breath she wasn’t aware when she’d been holding, a little disappointed when he brushes past her, lingering in the kitchen doorway.

“I remember,” he says, a ghost of the lopsided smirk she loved so much from their school days playing upon his full lips, “remember what a racket you and Lana used to make pretending you weren’t pissed on that nasty blue stuff.”

She grins, her gaze dropping as she fiddles with the cuff of her jumper sleeve, thinking back to all those years ago. “Sorry, Billy,” she finally says, looking up at him, “we’ll keep it down tonight.”

“No worries, I’ll be upstairs,” he tells her. “Enjoy your film.”

“Billy?” She calls softly after him as he moves to go back upstairs.

He turns, looking at her questioningly.

“You’re looking well too, by the way.”

The dusting of pink that had appeared across his cheekbones earlier now returns in earnest and he gives a simple nod before turning and heading up the stairs.

She deposits his now cold, used teabag into the bin, then grabs hers and Lana’s beers from the side and goes back into the living room.

The rest of the evening passes uneventfully, her and Lana finish off Die Hard, then move onto Gremlins.

On the couple of occasions that she goes upstairs to the bathroom she can hear the sound of Billy playing Call of Duty through his closed door. She thinks about knocking to invite him down to join them, but figures if he had wanted to do that he’d have asked in the kitchen, so she leaves it.

They’re halfway through Jingle All the Way when she feels her eyelids start to grow heavy. She leans forward, placing her half drunk can on the coffee table and turns to Lana.

“I’m gonna have to push off home, babe, I can’t keep my eyes open.”

Lana nods, pausing the film and sitting forward with a yawn. “Yeah, should probably get to bed myself. You gonna be alright getting home? Need me to call you a cab?”

“Nah, it’s only down the road, I’ll be fine walking,” she insists as she puts her shoes and coat back on.

“Alright, well, text me when you get home, yeah?” Her friend says, pulling her into a hug.

“Course,” she smiles, hugging her back and heading towards the front door. “Have a great Christmas. See you for New Year’s.”

Lana waves her off and as the front door closes behind her, she’s about to head back down the pathway when the glowing ember of the end of a lit cigarette catches her eye.

She turns to see Billy leaning against the side of the house, smoking a roll up.

“You off?” He asks, exhaling a plume of smoke that’s made larger by the cold that clings to the puff of his breath.

“Yeah. Was good to see you, Billy,” she says, trying to ignore how her pulse races at the way the soft glow of the street lamp illuminates the sharpness of his side profile.

“I’ll give you a lift, if you want?” He offers, crushing his cigarette beneath his foot.

“You don’t have to do that, I’m only twenty minutes down the road,” she says, suddenly feeling awkward, putting her hands in her coat pocket.

“And you could be five minutes down the road if I drive,” he retorts with a smirk.

She sighs, her gaze softening. Not having to walk home in the cold would be nice, actually. “Yeah, go on then.”

Billy walks around to the front door, opens it and fishes around on the key hooks until he has the set he needs. They walk down the road until they reach a red VW Polo and he unlocks it.

“New car?” She asks nonchalantly, having expected to see his old silver Vauxhall Cavalier.

“Nah, this is mum’s. Haven’t had a car since…well…y’know.”

Since it blew up. Fuck, how could she be so thoughtless?!

“Oh god, Billy, I’m so sorry, I–”

“Don’t worry about it,” he says, opening the driver’s side door. “Do you mind just giving me a minute before you get in?”

She nods, keeping her hands in her pockets, watching as feels all around the car’s interior, checking inside the glove box and under the seats.

Checking for explosives.

He finally settles behind the steering wheel, gripping it tightly, attempting to calm his breaths.

“Honestly, Billy, I don’t mind walking…” she says quietly.

He looks up at her, as though just remembering she’s there. “No…no, it’s fine. I want to do it. It’s good for me, I have to.”

“Can I get in now?” She asks, giving Billy a reassuring smile.

He nods, and she walks around to the passenger’s side, climbing in and buckling her seatbealt.

Billy starts the car and they drive in silence for a few moments before he finally speaks.

“You must think I’m such a loser,” he mutters, fingers flexing against the steering wheel.

She turns slightly in her seat, shocked by what he’s said. “I’ve never thought you were a loser. Please don’t say that.”

“I’ve got no job, no car, I live with my mum and dad, can’t even drive without needing to check I won’t fucking blow up first,” he scoffs, “don’t bullshit me.”

“I’m not!” She protests. “You’ve been through so much, Billy, you need to give yourself a break.”

His lips quirk, he pulls a hand away from the steering wheel to pull at the collar of his t-shirt. “S’not just what happened though, brought it on myself dad says. I’ve always been a loser, ever since school.”

“I never thought you were,” she assures him gently, “I actually really fancied you back then.”

Billy draws in a sudden breath, glancing sideways at her as he pulls up outside of her block of flats.

How does he know where she lives? Lana must have told him.

“And now?” He asks, turning off the engine and twisting in his seat to look at her.

It feels as though all the air has left the car suddenly, as they stare at each other. She isn’t sure what possesses her, perhaps the three cans of lager she’s drunk throughout the evening, but she finds herself leaning over the centre console and pushing her lips against his.

He reciprocates, soft and unsure at first, but quickly gains confidence, his mouth moving against hers with more urgency.

She cups his face, her fingers grazing over the stubble at the corner of his jaw that he always seems to miss when shaving and she smiles into the kiss, enjoying its roughness against her fingertips.

Billy seizes the opportunity to slip his tongue into her mouth and she moans softly as it slides against her own.

Their pupils are wide with lust, the windows of the car fogged up when they finally part for breath, keeping their foreheads pressed together.

He strokes his large hand over the back of her head, his voice barely above a whisper. “Can I come up?”

She swallows thickly, not wanting to reject him, but knowing it’s not a good idea to rush things. “Not tonight, Billy, I–”

He jerks away, hurt flashing across his features, rubbing his nose on the back of his hand. “Right, yeah, sorry, was stupid to think you’d want that…”

“No, no, it’s not that!” She says, reaching over and taking his hand in hers, running her thumb over his scarred knuckles. “We’ve waited so long for this, I don’t wanna rush it. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want you, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he says, his shoulders relaxing as he breathes an audible sigh of relief. “Can I text you then?”

“I’d like that,” she looks at him through hooded eyes, “let me give you my number.”

“I’ve got it, don’t worry.”

Oh. Something else Lana must have given him.

“Alright then. Well, goodnight.”

She leans over and pecks him on the lips, then exits his car.

When she goes to sleep that night it’s with a smile upon her face, knowing that her childhood crush feels the same way that she does. In the back of her mind, she knows that Lana will go mad when she finds out, but that’s a bridge she’ll cross when she gets to it.

She is less than enthused when she awakens the next day realising it’s Christmas Eve and she needs to make her annual visit to her great aunt’s for room temperature sherry, mince pies and questions about why she isn’t married with children yet.

Her face lights up when she sees a text on her phone from an unknown number and realises it’s Billy.

She grins excitedly to herself, calling her great aunt and feigning a migraine, before showering and readying herself for her day with Billy.

True to his word in his text, the buzzer to her flat sounds an hour later and he is at her door a few moments later.

It’s awkward at first, as they both stand there sizing each other up, unsure of what to say or do, until he takes the initiative and steps forward to kiss her.

It all feels so easy and natural, as though it’s something they should always have been doing, and when he takes her hand in his as they walk into town she can’t help the way her heart skips a beat at how perfectly her hand slots into his.

They walk around the Christmas market together, hand in hand, drinking mulled wine. For the first time since they were at school together, she sees Billy laugh, a genuine, happy laugh. He makes jokes, a sparkle returning to his eyes and he looks so relaxed, she is finally able to see his potential again, all that he could be if he wasn’t constantly wallowing in self pity, lurking in Lana’s shadow and taking his parents’ criticisms to heart.

When he walks her home that evening, she doesn’t hesitate to invite him up. Gentle affirmations of “I had a nice time today” rapidly escalate to needy kisses as they tug at each other’s clothes. This is the Billy that she wants, and she sees no point in waiting any longer.

His large hands eagerly grasp at her hips as she pushes him down onto the sofa, straddling his lap.

They are a frenzied clash of lips, teeth and tongue, her hands finding their way into his hair, pulling his head back slightly to mouth at his jaw and neck. He groans at the sensation, hips bucking up to meet hers.

When he slides down his tracksuit bottoms and boxers to free the ample hardness that has been pressing against her thigh for the last five minutes, she lifts herself, meaning to remove her tights. She gasps when his long fingers pluck at the crotch, tearing them open and pushing her knickers to the side.

His digits swipe through the wetness of her folds and she shudders against him. “You on the pill?” He asks gruffly.

She nods in affirmation, a whine escaping her as he replaces his fingers with the head of his cock, slowly pressing into her.

The sounds he makes against her ear as he thrusts up into her are lewd, but with every grunt and breathy moan she clenches around him. This is a purely carnal act of desire, fulfilling years’ worth of pent up animalistic need. There will be plenty of time for gentle lovemaking, but right now she just needs to feel him, and judging by the way slams her down to meet each quick thrust, jaw slack and brow furrowed, she is certain he feels the same way.

The throbbing of him inside of her, as he spills deep within her, drives her over the edge and she peaks with a strangled cry, tightening around him in quick successive pulses.

They remain like that for a long while afterwards, resting against each other on the sofa, in the darkness of her living room.

“I’ve wanted this for so long, you’ve got no idea,” he whispers eventually, once his breathing has returned to normal.

“Me too,” she whispers.

“I wanna stay, but–”

“It’s Christmas Eve, Billy, it’s alright. You should get home before your mum gives you an earful.”

They pull unsteadily apart, adjusting their clothes, and she walks him to the door.

“I’ll text you, yeah?” He says.

“Yeah,” she smiles before kissing him softly, “Merry Christmas, Billy.”

“You an’ all,” he murmurs, pulling her into a tight hug and then walking away.

Christmas Day is uneventful. Presents and a roast at her parents’, followed by an afternoon of board games and films.

She gets a happy Christmas text from Lana, and smiles when she gets one from Billy too - the first he’s ever sent her.

By the time Boxing Day rolls around, she’s already thoroughly fed up with her family and eager to be back in her own space. She grins when her phone buzzes with a message from Billy.

She pulls out her phone, thinking carefully about what to send to her best friend, before typing a message.

She arrives at Billy and Lana’s parents’ house an hour later and is given a warm welcome by everyone. It’s strange not being able to interact properly with Billy, considering how close they’ve become so quickly over the last few days, however, he carries himself with a confidence she’s never seen him have in front of his family before.

He stands a little straighter, actually bothers to make eye contact when he talks to people. It spreads a warmth within her chest to see him no longer looking so downtrodden and defeatist, she can no longer sense the anger that used to simmer just below the surface like she used to be able to.

His eyes find hers whenever no one’s looking and she can’t help the smiles that she directs his way.

The leftovers have been dished up and they’ve been sitting around the TV for an hour when she goes upstairs to use the bathroom.

Noticing Billy’s bedroom door ajar on her way back downstairs, she can’t resist a peek inside. She’d never dared go in when she’d come to see Lana when they were younger. She pushes the door fully open, nose wrinkling at the rumpled bed sheets and assortment of dirty socks and boxers that litter the floor, but smiles as she casts her eye over the Oasis poster on the wall and the acoustic guitar that leans against the chest of drawers.

She twiddles absentmindedly with the PS4 controller, when a box that’s been shoved haphazardly beneath the bed catches her eye. She drags it out, pulling out a scrapbook that sits on the top.

Her heart hammers in her chest, her blood feeling as though it runs ice cold as she flips through it. It’s filled with old school photos of her, plus newer pictures that have clearly been printed off from her social media accounts.

Rummaging further into the box she pulls out items she’d assumed she’d either lost or that Lana had borrowed on the occasions she’d stayed over - there are scrunchies, old lip balms, even a pair of her underwear. Disgust causes bile to rise in her throat, a mixture of fear and disbelief quickly spreads its way through her body.

“You weren’t supposed to see that,” Billy’s voice says quietly from the doorway, causing her to gasp as she looks up in fright. “Doesn’t matter now though, don’t need that shit anymore, not now I’ve got the real thing.”

“Billy,” she pleads, her voice shaking, “what is all this?”

“I’ve always wanted you, never thought you’d feel the same though. She looked like you, y’know,” he tells her, stepping closer and shutting the door behind him.

“Who?” Tendrils of icy fear spread to her belly, every nerve in her body screaming at her to run, yet she stays rooted to her spot on the bed.

“Becky,” he says simply, “she was the spit of you. Only reason I went out with her, to be honest. I was gutted when she ended things, but she doesn’t matter now. Don’t need some cheap knock off, not when I have you.”

“Please, Billy, you’re scaring me,” she whispers, tears pricking her eyes.

“Everything’s gonna be alright. Job hunting, the bomb, none of it matters because I’ve got you.”

“Listen to yourself, this isn’t you,” she pleads, backing up on the bed away from him as he towers over her.

“You’ve seen how much better I am with you, you can’t take that away. I need you. And I make you feel good too. Look, you just need a reminder.”

He looms over her on the mattress, his hand darting between her legs and she whimpers.

“Billy, no, please…”

She wants to scream, to cry out and make him stop, but the thought of attracting the attention of Lana and her parents and them coming up here and seeing all of this is more than she can stand. So she lays there, lets Billy slide his hand up her skirt and into her underwear, hating the way her body responds to his trust.

“See?” He murmurs again the shell of her ear. “Only I can make you feel like this. Everything is gonna go my way now that you’re mine, you’ll see.”

Her vision goes watery, a combination of tears and building pleasure causing the poster on the opposite wall to blur.

She tenses as his fingers work her quickly towards her climax and she screws her eyes shut, shuddering with a quiet whine as she falls apart.

“There you go,” he coos gently, “I’ve got you now, and I’m never letting you go.”

The way he says it sends a shiver down her spine. Billy is a man with nothing to lose. He means it. He’ll never let her go.

#billy washington #billy washington x reader #billy washington x you #billy washington x y/n #billy washington smut #billy washington imagine #billy washington trigger point #ewan mitchell #billy washington fan fiction #billy washington fanfiction #billy washington fanfic #billy washington fan fic #trigger point

496 notes · View notes

fan-goddess · 9 months ago

Text

Yes sir…

Thank you @succnfuccubus for inspiring me to write this and convincing me to actually do this

Summary: After another rejection, Billy’s feeling a little down in the dumps. But after meeting with your friend that morning and looking at a unique source material, you get a very unique idea on how to hopefully cheer him up.

Authors Note: Gave the friend a name as it was just easier. I loved the idea, but I don’t like this for some reason

Taglist: @valeskafics, @humanpurposes, @watercolorskyy, @omgbrcat @blue-serendipity @arcielee @targaryenbarbie @anjelicawrites d

Warnings: Smut books, p in v sex, m oral, praise kink, power imbalance role play, role play, angst, comforting, sad boy Billy Washington, the economy, begging, cuddling (if I miss any let me know)

Billy had never been a particularly avid reader. The most he’d ever voluntarily read probably being the required reading for secondary school English. You on the other hand, even before you’d stumbled across the smut section on the internet, had always been a common bookworm.

When your friend Lya first began to lend you books from her so called private collection though, now that’s when you became a woman possessed. Soon, most of what you were reading involved some sort of dark romance filtered in. Whether that was mafia, pirate, or just a simple brother’s best friend romance. You read it all with an expressionless face.

Yet when you’d begun to date Billy, you must confess to the amusement of Lya, who you’d been borrowing books from for all these years, that you hadn’t been borrowing and reading as many of those sort of books as you used too. Since now, you had a real life romance novel in front of your very eyes to carry out. It wasn’t exactly the dream romance kids pictured after watching a Disney movie, but what sort of relationships were these days?

The last few days, you and Billy had been unable to have sex due to a sudden difference in work times. Well, your work times and Billy’s interviews. Still, whilst you were used to this happening at some random times, your pussy had taken a sudden hit with the recent dry streak. Now, you were beginning to crave one of those novels of yours in your hands again. Desperate for a new sort of fiction that’d get brain stimulated and your cunt working.

So you called the best smut dealer you knew.

“Hey bestie!” You grinned, picking at your nail while your other hand was busy holding the phone. “I need a favour…” She’d laughed when you’d asked her for a new recommendation, yet to your relief, you and her had managed to agree to a meet up the next day to, exchange the goods.

The morning you were supposed to leave, you remember kissing Billy goodbye as your adorable half asleep boyfriend was still laying in bed all cosy and pretty. “Where are you going?” He’d grumbled, so cute with a small tired pout on his face that it almost made you want to strip back down to nothing and pounce on him there and then. The lack of sex it seemed was really getting to you right now.

“Visiting one of my friends for a morning drink. Nothing much baby. Remember though you’ve got that interview at 3, so don’t forget!” You smiled, giving him another deep kiss before you go that left Billy’s cheeks flushed from bashfulness. He’s so effortlessly fucking sexy it was utterly unreal…

When you got to the cafe you’d planned to meet Lya at, she eagerly waved at you from a discreet corner of the room. She may be honest as hell about what she reads, but she sure as hell knows how to act like a fucking dealer about it.

“Hello darling!” You smile, moving so you could give her a quick hug before sitting opposite her. “How’ve you been?”

“I’ve been alright thanks babes! Stocking up on my little novel collection, which reminds me!” She gives you a mischievous smile, and from her bag produced a book with quite a different cover than what you thought it’d be. As she places in front of you what looks to be a copy of great expectations.

“Think you’ve mixed up the books Lya!” You laugh, giggling in amusement when you see her look at you with such disappointment.

“Course I haven’t idiot!” She sighs, moving to grab the book and remove the book cover, before showing you the back of it. Where much to your surprise, you find the blurb for a very different book. Called ‘Unbuttoning the CEO’. “I read it last week and thought it’d be perfect for you!”

You laugh at the title and place the secret cover back on, before placing it in your bag. You don’t bring the book up again the rest of the catch up convo, but at the end when the two of you have eaten your cakes, drunk your coffees and were saying your goodbyes, you made sure to let Lya know what you thought of the book when you read it.

When you get back home, you head to the bedroom first to see if Billy’s back or not. The bed you can see is unmade and ruffled, yet when you feel it you can tell it’s cold to the touch, telling you Billy left a while a go. You head to the living room and sit on the sofa with a small sigh, praying Billy didn’t decide to head to the pub before a job interview.

You’re still for a couple minutes trying to think of what to do to occupy your time while you wait for Billy, and your eyes can’t help but be drawn to your bag, where the book practically taunts you from inside it. Before you even know it, you’re curled up on the sofa with the book in your hand and your lip between your teeth.

Words blur as you read sentence after sentence, but your eyes certainly eagerly tune in when you get to the actual sex part, which wasn’t even very far in to be honest.

The ceo takes the assistant on his desk, and you can’t help but clench your legs together when you read about how later on the assistant helps the CEO to ‘destress’. You take a small break to make yourself a quick drink, and can’t help but find your mind drifting to the idea of you and Billy in those scenes, playing those characters. You can’t help but forget about even making any sort of drink as you imagine exactly how you could help Billy destress from the recent unfair influx of job rejections.

You eagerly get back to reading though, and by the time Billy comes back home around 5, stinking slightly of cheap lager, you’ve already finished the book twice and reread your favourite scenes about three times over.

“Hey baby!” You smile, making note on how Billy nuzzles his body into yours as much as he can as soon as he gets close enough. Your pretty little teddy bear… “How’d it go?”

“Said I weren’t what they were looking for…” He murmurs into the length of your neck, as you kiss the top of his head softly. “Another fucking failure to add to the list…”

“Don’t say that!” You firmly say, placing both your hands on the side of his face to force his eyes to meet yours. You hate the way he looks so broken in that moment. So beaten by the world that all you want to do in that moment is wrap your arms around him and keep him safe from everything and everyone. The assholes who hurt him hurt him good and deep, and if you could, you’d beat them to death yourself. Maybe even with your porn book that’d be a right sight you must admit… “You are fucking amazing! You’re my favourite person in the whole world and I will not have you bring yourself down! Do you understand me Billy Washington?”

He gulps, and for a second you swear you can see tears build up in his eyes before they’re quickly blinked away.

“I-I underhand darling. Thank you, for being there for me. For everything.” He says, before bringing you in for a hug. Practically crushing you with how hard his arms lock around your waist and his head stays tucked in the skin of your neck.

The two of you stay there for what feels like hours. Holding each other while the time goes by. The only reason the two of you even break away from each other is because your phone rings so loudly all of a sudden and shocks the two of you into remembering the situation at hand. You quickly move to switch your phone on silent, and yet your eyes somehow manage to drift to the book peeking out from behind a sofa cushion, and an idea makes it way through your mind.

“Hey Billy…” You begin, smirking when you see Billy’s usual shy persona breaking through his shell once more when he sees that smile of yours. “I wanna try something tonight…”

“What is it?” He asks, raising a brow and stepping back slightly when he sees the grin on your face.

“Just something I read recently. Wanna see how you’ll like it…” You purr, placing your hands on his shoulders and dragging him to the edge of the sofa, before pushing him slightly so he falls backwards with a small gasp. His eyes open wide as they stare at you with such awe and admiration that you can’t help but find yourself blushing slightly.

You slowly lower yourself between Billy’s legs, which seem to open as wide as they can automatically, and with innocent fluttering eyes, lay your head on the side on his leg.

“Can I please suck your cock sir?” You beg, a pout on your lips to mimic pure desperation as Billy practically seems to have a heart attack above you. He appears breathless as you spring this sudden fantasy upon him, and yet by the way you can see and feel his trousers move and strain with his quickly swelling cock, you can tell with certainty that he definitely seems to be enjoying this.

“Yes…” He eventually murmurs with a heavy breath. “You can suck my cock….”

“Thank you sir, I promise I won’t let you down!” You smile, moving your hands to undo his belt and shimmy down his trousers and his underwear. When Billy is left sitting naked before you, as he’d claimed to feel silly if he was sitting in just his shirt, you can’t even stop yourself from admiring your boyfriends erect cock that stands proudly before your face.

“Such a pretty cock sir…” You murmur, before opening your mouth and taking it in your mouth as far as you can before your nose hits the small soft patch of hair lying at the base of Billy’s cock.

You can hear him keen and whine above you, and you’re very sad you can’t see the way his eyes no doubt roll to the back of his head. You slowly move your head back and forth, keeping a steady pace that leaves Billy practically shaking and whining above you.

“Please….” You hear him beg. A noise you love more than anything, and yet at this moment it’s not what you want. You want him to feel in control for once. To know how much you worship him and adore him. To know that he has the ability to make you become so needy and desperate for him that you’ll do anything to please him. That is, with the right words of course.

“Please darling!” He continues, his whimpering so delightful to your ears that you almost throw your plan out the window so you could give him as many earth shattering orgasms as he deserves. But patience is a virtue, so you continue to suck at Billy’s cock in a leisurely pace. Drawing all sorts of noises from him that leaves your own lower half aching for a release.

“Take control of me Billy…” You eventually say, admittedly growing tired of the lack of communication between the both of you. “Take hold of me and do whatever you want to me sir…”

It seems your words finally made it into his pretty little head. Since as soon as you try and go back to putting your mouth on him after saying those words to him, you feel a strong hand wrap itself between the strands of your hair, atopping you from getting anymore closer to his cock than what you already are. It makes your pussy admittedly wetter as you’re now effectively eye level with Billy’s weeping member, and yet am unable to touch it at all. Forced to stare at it while it weeps a single drop his precum and watch while it trails down his erection. It’s absolute fucking torture.

“Please sir!” You find yourself begging, an actual pout on your lips as desperation claws up your whole body. “I wanna make you feel good sir! Wanna warm your cock in my mouth and feel your cum trickling down my throat!”

You can feel the grip his hands have on your hair tighten, and before you know it, Billy’s cock is hitting the back of your throat and your eyes are rolling to the back of your head as your used like a pathetic fuck toy. You let your body go limp as you allow Billy to use you however he decides, yet he doesn’t seem to exactly have that part figured out yet, as he focuses on moaning and groaning about you like a porn star while he uses you to his current hearts content.

For a while, you almost find yourself unable to breathe. Gasping for air whenever the opportunity appeared. Yet still, you persist in your willingness, eager to see the usually so submissive man in front of you break.

“Fuck I’m gonna cum!” He groans, moaning as he further tightens his grip on you and forces you to work harder and faster on his cock. You moan wantonly and work your tongue harder as you feel his tip become drenched in a delicious mixture of both your spit and his precum, and feel his entire length throb under the weight of your efforts. It’s actually quite flattering really, seeing how fast he’s about to cum from your suggestions.

“Fuuuuuuck please swallow baby please please please!” He whines, that inner submissive of his still lingering as he holds your head down firmly on his cock while you feel his cum shoot down to the back of your throat, and practically choke you with how much you feel quickly filling your mouth. You cough slightly as you try and obey Billy by swallowing what you can, yet you can’t help but have a few drops of his essence flow down your cheek as you struggle swallowing the first few drops.

“Here you go baby…” Billy murmurs, using his fingers to pick up the stray dribbles and put them in front of your lips. Admittedly you feel quite bashful as you avoid his eyes while sucking the remaining taste of him off his fingers, but as soon as you finish, those same now spit covered fingers rest under your chin and force your head up so your eyes can meet.

A silent gasp releases under your breath as you see an uncharacteristic carefree yet somehow cocky smile on Billy’s face. That submissive man you saw not even five minutes ago gone as this new, changed man sits before you. Like some sort of strange sexual butterfly.

“You were a good girl for me.” He simply says, allowing you to bask in the feeling of his dominance that makes your legs weak at the knees. “And good girls if I’m right, get rewarded. You taught me that pretty girl. So please, get naked, and get on the bed for me arse up, so I can reward you for being so good for me.”

Fuck you’ve made a monster. A sexy one yes, but still a sexually dominant monster.

You do as Billy says to a T. Stripping yourself quickly so that your clothes are all over the bedroom floor, and placing your body on the bed in Billy’s desired position. You wait with bated breath for what feels like hours while your skin erupts in a multitude of goosebumps, and you swear you nearly jump out of your skin when you feel Billy’s warm skin suddenly against yours. You feel his half hard cock rubbing almost pitifully against your arse, and you realise with a very sick thrill that you can actually feel him getting harder the more your juices seem to coat him.

It seems though you were so caught up in your thoughts, that you miss the sounds of Billy’s own clumsy movements of stripping.

“So pretty…” He groans. A beautiful sound that leaves you wanting more more and more. How greedy of you… “You want to be fucked by me don’t you? By your boss?”

“Yes sir!” You whine, your head going dull as you stay focused only Billy’s body and nothing else. On the way he makes you feel so effortlessly, and without meaning. “Want you to make me yours! Want me to make sure everyone knows I only belong to you!”

You can hear Billy deeply grunt behind you, and with a gasp you don’t even at first realise belong to you, you feel Billy thrust his cock deep inside you. An intense feeling of fullness hitting you as you close your eyes and grip your hands desperately at the sheets in an attempt to ground yourself.

He gratefully allows you to get used to the sudden intrusion, but before you know it, Billy is quickly thrusting himself quickly in and out of you while you moan and keen for more beneath him. Your eyes screwing shut as your lower belly slowly tightens harder and harder.

“So good!” He groans, unexpectedly yet cautiously smacking your backside with his palm that causes an absolute pathetic sound to leave your lips. “My sweet little slut. All mine to fuck!”

An abundance of yeses comes quickly and brainlessly as you answer Billy’s statement with a high pitched moan. All you want right now is to cum. And by the way you can feel your cunt clenching and fluttering hard around Billy’s cock, you can guess it won’t be long before you do.

“Fuck sir I wanna cum please let me cum for you sir I’ve been so good!” You whine, your mouth hanging open in a silent scream as Billy somehow manages to move himself faster against you. The sound of his skin smacking at such a fast pace against your own to your ears sounding like an erotic symphony.

“Yes… you have been good…” Billy groans. His voice so strained it’s as if he’s struggling with all his strength to say them. “So you’ll continue to be good… by taking my fucking cum in your perfect cunt!”

You take that as your queue, and with a loud unwavering yell, you cum hard around Billy’s cock. Coaxing forth his own orgasm as he clutches hard at your skin and pushes himself as deep as he can to you. Moaning as you focus on the feeling of his hot cum filling you.

You can also feel his pubic hair stimulating your swollen clit, which leaves you silently gasping against the mattress and your aching pussy clenching against Billy’s softening cock.

The two of you stay where you are as you allow each other to breathe and calm down, yet it’s not long before the two of you are cuddling under the bed covers, with Billy’s cock still inside you.

“Did you like that baby?” You can’t help but murmur. Anxious on whether Billy was happy over you pushing him out of his usual comfort zone.

“It was different…” He summarises. You cannot see his face to make any assumptions. Given that your man has gone back to his roots by putting his head in the curve of your neck. “But I liked it. I liked it a lot.”

You may not be able to see it, but even so, your ego swells massively when you realise you can feel Billy’s bashful smile against your skin. It almost makes you want to have your wicked way with him again. That is though, before you realise with a warm feeling chest that Billy has steadily fallen asleep against you. With his softened cock still inside you, and your arms wrapped firmly around his body ensuring his safety.

“Sleep baby…” You murmur, kissing the top of his head with a smile. “You were such a good boy for me baby… we’ll see about rewarding you later….”

You may have imagined it, but you swear you can feel Billy smile against your skin. Yet you push the thought away and instead choose to close your eyes, and allow your own exhaustion to overcome you. You and Billy’s breaths and hearts synching as you hold each other with as much love as a sleeping person could handle.

#Billy Washington #trigger point #Billy Washington x reader #Billy Washington/reader #trigger point fanfiction #Billy Washington fanfiction #ewan mitchell imagine #ewan mitchell x reader #ewan mitchell #ewanverse #ewan nation #my works #Billy Washington imagine

181 notes · View notes

wardenparker · 7 months ago

Text

Hummingbird Has Landed, ch 12

Marcus Pike x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

After the debacle of his failed engagement and relocating to Washington to take charge of his task force, newly minted Special Agent Marcus Pike is ready to get back out into the dating pool once more. A slew of bad dates has him feeling a little down, and he takes an old friend up on an invitation to get away and get his head on straight. Imagine his surprise when he finds not only fresh air, but his soulmate as well - hiding in plain sight but in the unlikeliest of places.

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 12.4k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: occasional mention of American politics, pregnant character, food/alcohol consumption, mentions of clothing/regulated dressing for occasions, mentions of therapy because we believe in self care here, reader is in a previous relationship, love triangle, reader is mentioned as turning 30 during the course of the story, dom/sub dynamics* Pregnancy. labor, childbirth, health emergency, hospital stay, talk of living wills and things going wrong, traumatic birth, mentions of death/possibility of death, reassurance, emotional hurt/comfort. Summary: Months after going public with your relationship with your soulmate, you and Marcus get the phone call you've been waiting for: Sydney has gone into labor! Notes: The migraines and the pain aren't gone but the story continues! This week is a rollercoaster, my darlings. I hope you enjoy 🧡

Ch1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10 ~ Ch 11

The call came late on a Saturday night during the first full week of September. Busy getting ready to go out for a later-than-usual date, you had jumped straight up in the air when your phone started ringing. The words 'labor' and 'hospital' got you and Marcus moving instantly, and you were off to meet Juan and Sydney at Sibley Memorial Hospital faster than a heartbeat.

“Now, it’s gonna be awhile.” Marcus warns you, even as he speeds towards the hospital. “I might have to come back to get you some clothes.”

"As long as it doesn't take as long as Junie did to be born," you joke, trying to dispel your own tensions even as you fidget in your seat. "Mom was in labor for twenty-six hours. I think Syd will just reach in and pull the baby out before she waits that long."

“She’ll be yelling that she has a dinner menu to put out.” Marcus snorts, understanding how frustrated Juan has been when his wife refused to slow down until the very end.

"If she doesn't have her recipe notebook out within an hour of giving birth, I'll be astonished." She never slows down, your best friend, and you adore her despite it being worrying sometimes. At least you got her to agree to the more-than-generous New Parent Leave package the inn has adopted. They're both technically on your payroll so you know they'll be well taken care of.

“The new sous chef she hired to help the old one step into her shoes has worked out really well so far.” Marcus knows that talking about the inn will help you focus. Keep you from worrying yourself up into a state until you can lay your eyes on Sydney.

"She needed another set of hands anyway." Just because you know what he's doing doesn't mean you're not grateful, and you fidget in your seat before glancing down at your phone for the thousandth time. No new texts. You just have to remind yourself that that is a good thing. "Hopefully this new guy will work out and she'll keep him on long term."

“Yeah, it’s nearly a fully house every night in the restaurant.” Business in the inn might have taken a slight hit from the negative press, but the food was still bringing in the locals.

"Thank god for that." Over the last few months your bookings haven't been too stellar, but you've been making up for it with restaurant patrons and special event bookings. At least you had room enough to accommodate Marcus's parents when they came up in July. "I don't want to think about what would have happened if we'd lost restaurant sales along with bookings."

“I’m just happy that the ‘anonymous sources’ have tapered off lately.” The accusations are still out there but you and Marcus have been laying low for now.

“What I wouldn’t give for two seconds with our sniveling exes.” It’s obvious that it has been Sam and Vanessa feeding things to the gossip columnists, although technically all you have is your say-so. They’re being clever enough to make sure that there is no paper trail and nothing being said that marks them as the obvious source of the negative rumors. “Why do we have to be the better people?” You gripe with a pout. “We could just as easily say made up shit about them. For all we know, they were the ones having an affair and this is a whole situation of they doth protest too much.”

“I don’t think so.” Marcus would love for that to be the case. “That week of the state dinner, he was sick.” He reminds you. “I think Vanessa went over to his house and somehow discovered she’s his soulmate. She told me that she had just found out, not that she just met him.” He theorizes. “And now, they are twisting their own narrative, but I don’t understand why.”

“If they’re trying to discredit Mom through me, it’s not working.” Though your business may have taken a hit, your mother’s first term has been fairly impressive so far. She’s getting her legislation moving at a brisk clip and her focus on the economy is already strong. You sigh, though, pushing out the bad thoughts, and squeeze his hand over the gear shift. “They don’t get to ruin our goddaughter’s birth. That’s not in the cards.”

“Nope.” Marcus made sure to pack the gifts for mother and baby in the car while you were rushing around to get dressed. Both of you are excited. “Doesn’t matter, today is about Sydney and the baby.” He chuckles. “And poor Juan too. I know he’s a wreck right now.”

“He’s so excited and so nervous.” The clock on the dashboard reads ten minutes until midnight and you squeeze his hand again to relieve some of your own nerves. It’s not like you’re the one having a baby. There’s no reason to be nervous, but you are. For your best friend and your goddaughter and for Juan who is like a big brother to you.

“Yes he is.” Marcus tosses you a grin. “I know he’s supposed to be handing out cigars, but I managed to get my hands on a box of very nice ones. When the baby is born, I’m going to give them to him. To celebrate the important milestones with.”

“They’re the ones your dad smokes, aren’t they?” Beaming that grin right back at him, the conjured memory of the vanilla and spice scent of Matthew Pike’s favorite cigars is easy to conjure. “He’ll love that.”

“I hope so.” Marcus grins. “I can just imagine how proud he’s going to be. He’s going to be crying as he holds his child for the first time.”

“He’s going to be a leaky faucet by the time we get to the hospital,” you predict with an affection laugh. “They deserve this. They already love that little girl so much and they’re going to be amazing parents.”

“Yes they are.” He can’t help but be a little envious, although it’s not a sharp feeling because he knows it will happen for the two of you soon enough. He will be content with cuddling his new goddaughter.

There’s little traffic at this time of night, and before you know it you and Marcus are parking and heading inside to track down the room number that Juan texted to you. Sydney and Juan’s families will be alerted when the baby is born, but it was their wish to have you and Marcus in hand for the birth. You’ll be right there in the delivery room with Syd and Juan while Marcus keeps the families updated in a group chat. You’re co-captains of Team Moral Support and you’re excited for every second of it.

His hand is on your back as you stop in front of the door. “Are you ready, sweetheart?” He asks with a beaming smile.

“Nervous. Excited. Very ready.” You lean back to steal a kiss, warmed through by the comfort of having him by your side for this enormous step in the lives of your close friends. Your chosen family. “And…I can’t wait until it’s us.”

“Soon enough.” He promises. “Soon enough.” He pushed the door open and knocks with the back of his knuckles. “Knock, knock.”

“Oh thank god!” Comes the response from inside, and you’re laughing at the relief in Sydney’s voice when you and Marcus push inside. “The Godparent Brigade has arrived! Here to pump you up, handle your relatives, and fetch your sushi after the little peanut has arrived on the scene.”

“Get the sushi before anything else.” Sydney demands, rubbing her stomach and nearly salivating at the thought.

"I've already got your order in my phone, and Marcus will jet out to get it. You won't have to wait at all, honey." It doesn't surprise you in the least that Syd is thinking about one of her favorite foods, but you move over to her side in the bed as the two men hug and give your best friend a squeeze on her shoulder. "How are you doing? Do you want me to go strong arm a nurse for some ice chips?"

“Juan already has two cups of them, letting them melt down.” She grins at you and then winces when another contraction hits.

It takes everything you've got not to wince or cringe along with her, knowing that it won't do a single lick of good and won't help her feel any better. "How far apart are they?" You ask instead, rubbing her back in small, soothing circles.

“Twelve minutes, forty-seven seconds.” Juan tells you as he looks down at his watch and then back at his wife. “We are down from fifteen minutes.”

"Getting closer and closer!" Practically squeaking with excitement, you can see the same light in Juan's eyes despite the worry lines in his furrowed brow. He just wants everything to go well, and you can't blame him there.

Sydney huffs out a small laugh, knowing you are doing exactly what she had wanted you to. Cheerlead for her. “Did you happen to bring those hard candies?” She asks, her eyes wide and pleading.

"Yes!" Ready to dig into your purse immediately, you swirl around and grab your bag from where you had dropped it to one side when you came in the room. "I've got sour lemon and orange, and I've got the sweet strawberry ones. What are you feeling at the moment?"

“Sweet.” She practically moans the word and reaches out to you with grabby hands. “Don’t hold out on me now.”

"Here we go, babe." One of the candies is deposited in Syd's outstretched hands and a few more get tucked into the pockets of your cardigan to make sure you have one on hand for her at no more than a moment's notice. "Plenty more where that came from, I promise."

“You are the best.” She moans, popping the candy into her mouth and rolling her eyes in pleasure.

"Now how are you doing, Dad?" With Syd moaning over her small treat, you turn your attention to Juan.

“I’m hanging in there, but I think I forgot my bag.” He rolls his eyes and huffs. “Too busy making sure the car seat was secure.”

"Babe, you have a key to their place, right?" If not, you'll pull out your keys and send Marcus back to Alexandria with your spare house key instead. You would go yourself, but you vowed not to leave Sydney's side once you got to the hospital. The kind of vow that is definitely life or death and she will hold you to.

“Juan gave me one.” Marcus nods, and agrees with your silent plan. “I’ll run and get the bag. Pick up some coffee that’s better than the shit they serve here, yeah?”

"I have a feeling we're going to need it." Juan nods and claps Marcus on the shoulder gratefully.

"I'll call you if anything changes," you promise him, turning back to your own soulmate. "You're amazing, sweetheart. Thank you."

“I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He reassures you, leaning in to kiss your lips before hugging Juan and bussing Sydney’s cheek. “Ask for the good drugs, mama.” He teases with a wink, wanting her to laugh.

"You bet your ass!" She groans, wincing more heavily with this contraction than she had with the one before. "Get back here fast, Marcus. Speed. Lots!"

“I’ll use my badge if I get pulled over!” He calls back as he rushes out of the room.

"He'll be back in no time." Realistically you know it will take quite a lot of time, in fact, but your job tonight is not to be realistic. It is to be positive and upbeat. To keep spirits high. "I think Malachi is going to win the betting pool." You grin and stand up by the head of the bed with Sydney, right there to hold her hand if she needs you. "He had Monday – tomorrow, technically – as the day, but I don't think anyone had Sunday."

“Juan…” Sydney smiles. “Take a nap, baby. I know you are exhausted. You were about to go to sleep when my labor started. Birdie is here, so get some sleep.”

He raises an eyebrow, knowing his wife is in pain, but also knowing that a short nap will ensure he is at his best to help her. "We'll take shifts," he compromises, eyeing you just as much as his wife. "So someone is always here holding your hand and timing your contractions. Short naps only. I don't want to miss anything."

“I promise I won’t push her out without you.” She teases, leaning in and pressing her lips to his. “Go, it might be your last nap for the next eighteen years.”

"I love you, Warrior Queen." There are more kisses and more sweet words, and finally Juan crosses the compact hospital room to curl up on the Dad Bench and try to get at least a little bit of sleep before his baby girl enters the world.

“I don’t want to be horrible through this.” She admits quietly. “I’m hoping the labor progresses so I get an epidural quickly.”

"There is not a single person who is going to even blink an eye if you are upset during this labor," you promise her. She pats the side of her bed and you perch on the edge of the mattress, holding her hand all the while. "If you wanted or needed to rage through the whole thing, we would stand by your right to do so. But we'll also stand by your choice to do things any other way. Whatever way is going to be the best possible experience of bringing your first baby into this world."

“Will you do me a favor?” She asks quietly, eyeing Juan as he turns into the couch and gives you his back. He’s already snoring lightly so she’s not worried about him overheating. “If something happens…..” This is the first time that she’s ever said anything out loud and her eyes are anxious. “I’ve signed the paperwork already, but if something happens, I don’t want to stay on machines.” She whispers. “Promise me that you’ll help him let go. And if it’s me or the baby…you know what I want you to choose.”

“Nothing is going to happen.” As firmly and sternly as you can, you squeeze your best friend’s fingers in yours and bite back the instant tears that spring but behind your eyes. The fact that this conversation is even necessary is heartbreaking, but women die in childbirth every single day. Nothing is going to happen. You almost shake with determination but that isn’t what she needs right now. The person who means the most to you in the world besides Marcus is looking you in the face and asking you to be loyal to her. And you will. “I promise.” Two small, devastating words. But if she’s thought this far ahead, she’s also had another thought. “You have a will somewhere?”

“In the safe at home.” She nods, relieved that you are not fighting her and it’s obvious on her face. She had expected an argument, she knows she would have gotten one from Juan, which is why she chose you as her medical POA. “The papers are in an envelope in my bag.” She nods towards the incredibly organized hospital bag.

“Okay.” You nod, still holding her hands tightly. “I love you. I will honor your wishes. Now tell me which onesies you packed to bring her home in so you can get excited again.”

“All of them.” Sydney snorts, only half kidding. “There are twelve that I couldn’t decide between, so I brought them all. Figured we would decide which one looks best when we are holding her.”

“We can absolutely decide later.” She’s already a little sweaty at the top of her forehead from the contractions and you nudge a cup of melted ice chips toward her just to cool her down. “Do you have a top three?”

“The ones in the right hand pocket.” She takes the cup and starts to gulp down the cool water.

In the right hand pocket of Sydney’s neatly packed hospital bag, three folded baby onesies await their new owner: one from her mother in law covered in little surfboards and ocean waves and sunglasses to represent how much Juan had loved surfing when he was out in California. One from Syd’s sister AnnaLeigh with Once Upon a Time…a Heroine was Born written out like the beginning of an illuminated fairytale, and one from you and Marcus emblazoned with the logo of Syd’s favourite hockey team to get her baby girl started out right. “They’re fantastic choices,” you hum, looking at the clothes with misty eyes.

“You see why I couldn’t choose?” She laughs, shaking her head and setting down the rest of the ice chips to melt. Seriously not understanding why they just wouldn’t give her water. Labor is fucking thirsty work.

“I think I like AnnaLeigh’s,” you admit, before tucking them back into the bag as carefully as they had been before. “But we’ll see how she feels about them when she’s here. Who knows? She might come out the chillest baby in the world and then we now she matches Juanito’s surfer phase.”

“Juan actually likes that one too.” She admits with a grin. “He’s so fucking excited for this baby to come. He swears if he could carry her for me, he would.”

“He totally would have if he could.” The grin on your face breaks wider, and you sit back on the edge of Syd’s bed with her. “So would Marcus. In a heartbeat.”

“How did we get so fucking lucky?” Her eyes mist up, overwhelmed with the beautiful thought of both of you so happy and cared for with your soulmates.

“I truly have no idea.” The mist in her eyes halts for just a moment as another contraction hits, but it doesn’t fade. It doesn’t dim. Syd’s happiness is true, and you’re so grateful to see it. “Thank god they get along though. We’d be screwed if our soulmates weren’t friends.”

Panting, she leans back and rubs her belly. “We would make them be friends.” She jokes. “The most awkward small talk over beers until they find a common interest.”

“Lucky for us?” You sit forward and help her readjust her pillows from where they had fallen out of place. “They’re basically as inseparable as we are again.”

"Lucky for us." She agrees, leaning back with a sigh and smiling at you. "Thanks. You know what I need before I do sometimes."

“For most of the time we’ve known each other, I’ve been shocked that we aren’t soulmates.” At some point in your teenage years you had discussed it, but your appendicitis scar already existed and she has never born that. “I gotta be honest, I used to be bummed that we’re not. But when you met Juan, I understood why.”

She kisses the air in your direction. "Because you had Marcus waiting on you, too." She reminds you. "We are better than soulmates. We are sisters by choice."

“I would have waited forever for him.” She gets the same air kiss from you, and you descend into giggles together. “We really are lucky.”

The giggles are interrupted by another contraction, making Sydney hiss and squeeze her eyes shut as she tries to breathe through it. Coming out as more of a whine until the pain passes again. "They- They are getting closer." She huffs when she can talk again.

“We’re down to eight minutes and sixteen seconds apart,” you tell her, checking your watch. “You’re doing awesome, Syd.”

“I can’t believe it.” She grunts when she gets a foot in her rib. “I don’t know whether to be impressed that it’s going so fast, or cry because I’m not further along.”

"You're allowed to be both, you know." Frankly, you're both. She is progressing quickly but you know she would rather have just arrived fully dilated and ready to go. "Just remember. At least she's not dragging her heels like Junie did."

“I don’t know how your mom did it.” She huffs, thinking about your mother and how excited you had been for a younger sister. “She was still working while in labor.”

"My mother is some kind of weird combination of feral cryptid being and absolute machine," you chuckle, shaking your head. "If I'm trying to do bookings and make staff schedules during labor, please slap me."

Huffing out a laugh, she grunts and rubs her belly again on the side. “Done.” She pants. “But get me my notebook.” She points to her bag. “I just thought about a salted Carmel mocha crème brûlée.”

“I am only agreeing to this because it will take your mind off the pain.” Still, you dig into the pocket opposite the onesies she has earmarked as favorites and come out with her battered and beaten recipe notebook. “It sounds like it will be nice to send to your sous chef.”

“It sounds like something I want to eat right now.” She groans, flipping open the tatty cover and laying it on her baby bump to quickly write down her idea.

“You’re going to be a little distracted and busy for a while,” you remind her. Still you can’t help but grin at her tongue poking out from between her teeth as she scribbles.

“Doesn’t mean I’m not hungry.” She moans pitifully after finishing the notes. “I was in the middle of getting a snack.” The pout that pushes her lips out would be comical under different circumstances but she’s horribly disappointed to have not gotten to eat before being bustled into the car by her frazzled husband.

“What was snack time tonight?” It is absolutely always the way to distract her when she’s feeling bad, and tonight is All Sydney All the Time, so you’re focused in one her.

She groans and whimpers slightly at the food she had to leave on the counter. “Cottage cheese with fresh peach compote and balsamic glaze.” She pouts even more. “It was going to be amazing. But I had to tell Juan that I was cramping.”

“I’ll make sure there’s plenty in your fridge waiting for you when you get home.” You can promise her that, along with their fridge and freezer being fully stocked with ready-made meals and easy to use ingredients that should last more than two weeks. Between you and Marcus and Malachi and her staff, you’ve all been secretly helping prep for baby’s arrival for a week already. Even Agent Bailey made a contribution to the frozen meals and added some veggies from her garden.

“Thank you.” She smiles you softly. “I can’t believe that when I leave, I’m going to be holding her.” She admits with a grin.

“She’s almost here.” As if to affirm it, another swift kick to Sydney’s abdomen is brutally obvious, and you grin. “And she’s excited about it.”

The two of you settle into a comfortable silence. Broken by contractions and the quickening of their pace. Sydney trying to be quiet as she pants through them to let Juan sleep.

Checking your watch again and finding nearly two hours have gone by, you tilt your head at your best friend and hand her another strawberry candy. "Marcus should be back soon, and your contractions are barely more than five minutes apart now. I think it's time to wake Dad up and call for the nurse."

Marcus has Juan’s bag in the backseat and he had cancelled the reservations he had made for tonight. They aren’t going to be used, and he had apologized profusely. Still, he stops at the inn to run up to the small gun safe, using the biometric lock to open it and reveal a small ring box. He had been planning to propose tonight, and he still can, it will just look different now.

"It's happening, isn't it?" On his one night shift per week, Malachi had seen you and Marcus hustle out the backdoor of the inn with bags in hand and seen not long after when Marcus reappeared in a hurry. Now he is waiting at the back door once again, but this time to snag Marcus before he can disappear in to the night.

“It is.” Marcus nods with a huge grin spreading across his face. “Juan forgot his bag. I’ll text you when she’s born.” All the staff are invested so he will be sure to let them know. “You’ve got the inn?” He checks, although he knows what the other man will say.

"That baby is your godchild." Malachi smiles surprisingly softly. "This inn is mine."

“I know.” He reaches out and squeezes Malachi’s arm. “Birdie trusts you with her most important treasure.” He praises.

"Not quite." He winks at the other man, considering him a friend now after many months of back and forth, and grins. "She'd never leave me alone with you."

Marcus snorts, well aware of the man’s proclivity to flirt. He matches that grin. “That’s because she knows how persuasive you are.” He jokes, winking at him playfully. “Besides. You are still yearning for your soulmate and will only be happy when he breezes into your life like he’s always been there.”

"Check all those doctors for my ankle tat, handsome." Malachi teases, shooing Marcus toward the door. "A man in scrubs is better than a man in uniform."

“I will.” He gives Malachi a salute and hustles out of the door to speed back to the hospital as quickly as he can.

It's on the heels of a nurse when Marcus comes back into the room, with Juan standing at Syd's side holding tight to your hand while you have been banished to the corner of the room so the nurse can do her work. "It's almost time!" You tell him excitedly, wrapping your arms around him the second he makes his way over to her.

“Holy shit, I made it just in time then.” He can’t believe how fast it’s gone, he had expects at least half a day or more of labor.

"Apparently Constance does not want to wait." The shine of tears in your eyes isn't going anywhere now that you're about to head to the delivery room with Sydney and Juan, but you hug Marcus fiercely. "And I can't wait to meet her. I'm so glad you made it in time."

“Me too.” Marcus presses his lips to yours, letting you cling to him for a second before you pull back. “Does she want me there for Juan or should I stay here?”

"Stay here and hold down the fort for us? She's going to be exhausted when it's all over but she's nervous about everything being okay in the room while we're gone." Wishing so dearly that this was your night only makes you smile because you know that it's only a matter of time.

“Absolutely.” Marcus nods and looks over at Juan and Sydney. “I’ve got everything here. You go meet your daughter.”

"We'll be back soon." Juan is beaming, practically hopping around, and looks like he might jump out of his own skin if given the chance. "She's almost here!"

Marcus laughs at the bubbly excitement, watching as the nurses wheel her bed out, with you and Juan right on their heels as she’s transferred over to the delivery room. “And now…” Marcus pulls out the ring box and flicks it open to look down at the gorgeous ring. “We wait.”

It's over an hour before anyone comes back into the room, and when it happens it's just you alone with a look of exhausted panic on your face. "Everyone's okay." The first words out of your mouth, but you murmur them while shaking slightly and bolting into his arms, so it isn't terribly reassuring.

That doesn’t sound reassuring, coupled with the desperate way you cling to him. Marcus folds you into his embrace tightly.

“She was breech…” Sniffling through the explanation and clinging to him even harder is about the best you can do right now. “And they couldn’t get her to turn. Then—then they did an ultrasound and figured out that—” The shudder that runs through you is all-encompassing. “She had her umbilical cord around her neck. So they had to do an emergency c-section.” The shaky breath you exhale as you lean back is enough to make him quake right along with you, but he holds you steady. “And then the placenta ruptured after they brought the baby out and—and Syd just kept bleeding—”

“Oh shit.” Marcus whispers in horror, his heart plummeting to his feet and he swallows harshly. “But they are both okay?” He had heard you say they were, but he needs the confirmation.

“They’re both okay.” You can barely manage to nod, tears spilling over for yet another time. “They took Constance to the NICU and Juan is with Syd in recovery until they okay her to come back here.”

“Thank God.” Marcus breathes out softly. “Hopefully Syd is asleep? I know she would be frantic if Constance isn’t with her after that.”

“Awake, but exhausted.” You’re still gripping his leather jacket, refusing to let go. It had been warding off the chill in the air conditioned room but now it’s your life line. “They let her hold the baby for a few minutes before they whisked her off to the NICU.”

“How is she?” Marcus asks quietly, worrying about the baby. “Could we sit with her in the NICU?”

“The doctor said not to worry.” Though you sniffle again, clearly very concerned. “That she’s seen babies in far worse condition come through it totally fine. But they wanted her in a place where they can help immediately if they need to.” Two tears leak from your eyes but you brush them away with the back of your wrist and try to breathe. “They’ll come down and tell us in a little while if she can come be with Sydney or if we’ll be allowed to visit the NICU. For now we just gotta—we gotta stay put. That’s why Juan wanted me to come tell you.”

“Then that is what we will do.” Marcus promises, rubbing your back gently. “I’ll wait to pick up her sushi, hmm?” He wants you to decide that is the best option because he’s not leaving you right now. Not for anything in the world. He’s already reached out to his team to let them know he’s out of pocket for right now.

“Until after she gets some sleep.” You nod against his chest and wrap your arms around his waist for a sturdy anchor. “This is…not a celebrating time. The only thing worth celebrating is the fact that they’re okay.”

The ring he had planned to give you tonight burns a hole in his pocket, but he hums in agreement, pressing his lips to your head. “I completely agree.” He murmurs softly. “We will just make sure that they are in perfect health.”

“I love you so much.” The sheer relief of having him in your arms now after nearly losing your best friend — both of them meaning more to you than life itself — is unspeakable. “And I’m so glad you’re here.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” He promises. “I think I’m going to text the group that mom and baby are resting comfortably and we will make the announcement later?” He asks. “I don’t want people to bug Juan or worry.”

“I think that’s probably a good idea.” The last that the baby arrival group chat had heard, Syd was being wheeled to the delivery room. They deserved an update.

“Why don’t you go into the bathroom and wash your face, sweetheart?” Marcus urges. “Change into your comfy clothes and I’ll send out a text.”

“I’m too anxious to sleep, but I’ll wash up and change.” It seems like it will make you feel less frazzled, and therefore more on your game to help your friends. “But if you need to lie down, you should. I’ll wake you up when the nurse comes in with news.”

“I won’t sleep.” Marcus is too focused on you, too in tune with your nervousness to ever nap. Not right now.

“Then change with me and settle in,” you suggest instead, knowing that if your positions were switched you would feel the same. “It might be a long night.”

Marcus nods. “I can do that.” He promises, rubbing your shoulders and moving towards the bags. “If you want to take a quick shower, no one would blame you.”

“I think I’ll save that trick for refreshing myself in a few hours from now.” Predicting that you’ll need it, you kiss him now and slip off to the adjacent bathroom with your overnight bag to change.

Marcus pulls out his phone and calls down to the florist department that is on the ground floor of the hospital, wanting Sydney to come back to a lovely bouquet.

Wash your face. Change your clothes. Try not to break out crying again that you almost had to put that conversation with Syd a few hours ago into action. By the time you come out of the bathroom in Marcus’s old FBI Academy sweatshirt and a pair of yoga pants, your shoulders are drooping and your feet are dragging but at least you’ve stopped crying.

“Oh sweetheart.” While you had washed your face, Marcus had changed out in the room. “Come lay down with me on the sofa/bench thing.” He urges, reaching for you again.

“The Dad Bench.” Curling up into his side immediately, you lay your head on his shoulder and breathe out another sigh. “After you left, she made me promise to make the decision if something went wrong,” you tell him quietly. “Juan would never be able to…and she knew…that if she made me promise. I’d do what she wanted.”

He had been stroking your arm, fingers freezing as he absorbs the implication of that statement. “I’m glad it didn’t come to that.” He closes his eyes and sends up a prayer of thanks and continued good health to whomever might hear him. He doesn’t wish that on anyone, least of all his soulmate and one of his best friends.

"It almost did." Tears come again, fresh and few, but they are definitely there. "The only other time I've heard Juan pray in Spanish was when his mother had a heart attack a few years ago."

“I would be praying in every fucking language I could if it were you.” Marcus whispers. “To every God ever imagined.”

"Everyone is okay." Having to remind yourself of it fairly often seems...fairly reasonable, all things considered. You had stood at your best friend's side and looked her and her soulmate in the eyes as the doctors worked to control her bleeding. As she lay on a table with the distinct reality that those would be the last moments of her life.

But no. Everyone is okay. And soon they'll send her downstairs so she can rest comfortably, and they'll bring little Constance to her to have joyous moments with her family instead of fearful ones.

“Everyone is okay.” He echoes softly. “But…I asked the nurse for a rollaway bed for you.” The nurse had slipped into the room to check on you while you had been in the bathroom, before he had changed. You had just walked into the other room and closed the door, in fact. He had thought it would be best to prepare for you to not leave this room anytime soon.

"Did she say anything else?" No news is good news most of the time when you're in a hospital, but if Marcus got to speak to a nurse you want to know everything.

“She said that momma and baby should be in here by the time visitor hours start.” He couldn’t get a timeframe beyond that, but he took what he could get.

"That's..." Turning your wrist to check your face, the dial reads just after four in the morning. "That's about four hours. And I know Juan won't be down without them. So...I guess we should settle in?"

“Of course.” He doesn’t move, just continuing to hold you. Feeling you relax against him slowly.

"I guess...rain check on date night sex?" You huff weakly, trying for a joke. By this time of night on a date night you would normally be fast asleep – and very naked – in each other's arms.

“A rain check with you is better than any legal tender.” He jokes back, smiling softly even though he had hoped it would be engaged sex.

"What a night." The longer that you sit with him, the calmer you get. It's such an enormous thing for you, to have someone to anchor you as well as he does, and you sigh again as you deflate just a little more into his side.

“Not exactly how I imagined the night going.” Marcus admits with a small sigh. He’s not unhappy, he just wishes the birth hadn’t been so traumatic for everyone.

"Tell me what we were going to do tonight." Thinking about absolutely anything else seems like a very good idea right now, and while you know it was already late when you were leaving the apartment, you also know that Marcus had made plans for tonight.

“I had booked us a late table at Kingbird.” He tells you, smiling at the fact that Sydney had pulled the strings to get the reservation. “It was supposed to be the last table of the night.”

"The restaurant at the Watergate?" Your eyebrows raise when you look up at him and you're practically pouting. "I've been dying to try that place."

“I know.” He had asked and there was a list of places, but he had chosen that one to immortalize as special for the two of you. “And booked us a room at the hotel.”

"Shit." The pout on your lips deepens when you realize how much work Marcus had put into the night, only for it to be interrupted. "I'm so sorry, love. We'll have to reschedule everything. It sounds like it would have been beautiful."

“This is more important.” Marcus insists. “Don’t apologize. This is where I want to be, with you.”

"I don't think I could make it through tonight without you." It would be too much to handle on your own. With such deep emotions entangled in every second of the night, without your anchor you might have just flown apart. "I don't like the idea of doing anything without you anymore."

“You would have, sweetheart.” Marcus knows that, you are so damn strong. So much stronger than you ever believe about yourself. “I know you would have, but you don’t have to.” He stresses. “I’ll be here for you. Support you, comfort you. Celebrate your success and mourn your losses with you. I’m right here.”

"There are no losses to mourn tonight." And you'll be thanking every deity out there for any part they may have had in it. And also making sure that you note down the name of Sydney's doctor for your own pregnancies, because that woman worked quickly and thoroughly and without hesitation to make sure that both mother and baby made it through a birth that would have killed them both in decades past.

“We celebrate life.” He agrees softly. “And love. That little girl is loved so much already.”

"She's beautiful." And of course, there's a sniffle again. At least this one is happy and relieved. "Syd's big eyes and Juan's dark hair."

“Juan is going to be miserable when she gets older.” He laughs quietly. “She’s going to be gorgeous.”

"If she's anything like her mom, she'll have her head too far in the clouds to notice any of the boys or girls chasing her," you laugh along with him, remembering Sydney in high school. "Syd never had any clue how sought after she was."

“She was waiting for Juan.” It’s a bit of a romantic stretch, but it could also be the truth. “Plus she was too in love with crème brûlée. No mere man could compare.”

"She was dreaming about a caramel mocha one while you were gone." The maddening fear is starting to subside, finally, and you sink ever more deeply against Marcus on the bench. "I swear I'll make them for her every day for the rest of her life after what happened tonight."

“See?” He smirks to himself. “She loves them and I’ll help you. I can take the next week off, help with the inn and let you focus on Sydney and co?”

"You don't have to do that." It's a lot to ask of him, and you know that even though he has plenty of vacation time, you were planning on taking a trip down to Texas to spend New Years with his parents. "It's a deeply appreciated gesture, though."

“I don’t mind.” He protests, although he had been certain you would not let him do that for you. “I hope you know that.”

"I know, my love." In his lap, your fingers find his and tangle your hands together. "Why don't we wait on that decision until we see how Sydney and the baby are doing? I don't want you to take extra days out when I know you had been wanting to do other things with them in the next few months."

“Alright.” He will do what you want, let you lead this but he won’t let you exhaust yourself trying to carry everything. “Hopefully they will deliver the flowers I ordered before Syd comes back into the room.”

“You ordered flowers?” Sometimes you really feel like the things he does are magic, from small to large the gestures of love and support are always so deep that it seems impossible for him to not be the Superman of emotional support. “Honey, you’re—you’re too good. Too all of us.”

Marcus snorts. “My mother insisted we order flowers from her and dad, before this all went sideways.” He adds. Wanting you to know the context. “But Sydney just went through a traumatic childbirth. Flowers are the least I could do in order to make her feel loved and special.” He had ordered the flowers his mother wanted and then ordered other arrangements, including a welcome bouquet for Constance herself.

“Everyone is okay.” More reassuring this time, the words still come out in a hush and your eyes drop from Marcus’s for a moment before fluttering back up. “Thank you for being you,” you murmur after a moment. Marcus is that supportive and bolstering friend and family member. This is just who he is. And you’re so entirely grateful to have him here with you, especially right now.

“I don’t know if I would thank me for that.” Marcus teases, leaning in and kissing your forehead again. “But you can always count on me, hummingbird.”

“I know I can. And I’m thankful for that.” More than you could ever say. More than any words you have.

“Close your eyes.” He orders softly. He knows you are exhausted and emotionally spent. You need the rest so you can care for Sydney, Juan and the baby when they are back in this room.

“I can’t guarantee I’ll sleep.” Though you’ll try, knowing that the nurse doesn’t expect Sydney or the baby to be able to come down for at least a few hours.

“I know. Just closing them will be good.” He murmurs softly, still rubbing your back when you shift to lay across him. “You’ve been crying.”

“You would have been proud of me,” you murmur, settling against him one more time and shutting your eyes. “I kept it together until after everything happened.” It was shock, probably, but you still managed it. “Therapy is going to be a doozy this week.”

“Yes it will.” He won’t deny that or try to minimize your feelings. “You don’t need to skip it.”

“I’m absolutely not going to skip it.” Not this week, of all weeks. Not at all. The heaviness of the night is tugging at you, not for sleep but for rest, and for the first time you think you actually might be able to calm down fully as long as you can stay in Marcus’s arms.

Humming in approval, he doesn’t speak, letting the silence draw between you and waiting for your breathing to start slowing down.

The nap lasts about two hours. Two hours held tight in Marcus’s arms on that padded bench, and when you shift against him the small sound of noncommittal discomfort and surprise is enough to tell you that he fell asleep too. Good, you think, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. Everyone deserves a reset tonight. Even little Constance.

Marcus wakes quietly, as soon as you move, and he slowly remembers that he’s not in your bed. Both of you are at the hospital. He hums and sighs softly, knowing it hadn’t been a long nap, but it will do wonders for the coming hours.

"Hey handsome." The room is quiet and so are you, sitting up to stretch beside him and bring your limbs back to life.

“How did you sleep?” Marcus asks softly, watching you through heavy eyes.

“Better than I thought I would,” you admit, though you have a feeling that’s only because you didn’t sleep deeply enough for nightmares to set in. “You?”

“Pretty good nap.” He yawns. “Although I know I’m going to have to get coffee for all of us.”

Checking your watch, you stretch again and knock against his side with a lopsided grin. “The cafeteria should be open soon. I have a map of the hospital in my bag so you won’t get lost.”

“Just for that, I’ll bring you two coffees.” He groans, standing up and stretching out. “I should get dressed.”

“I’m sure you wouldn’t be the only visitor to go get coffee in your jammies.” Far from it, if you had to hazard a guess.

He snorts slightly. “I don’t doubt it. But I would hate to steal any of Juan’s new dad thunder.” He jokes, winking at you.

“Juan will be doing everything in bespoke suits with giant buttons that exclaim New Dad! for everyone he meets.” It’s sweet to think about, now that the fear is mostly past. It won’t wither entirely until you get to see mother and baby, but that should be soon.

“Of course he will.” Marcus laughs. “He’s already got an app on his phone that is just for organizing pictures of the baby.”

“Make sure you get the name of it,” you tease, leaning over to kiss him and getting one last stretch in — right into his arms. “We’ll need that for our kids, I’m sure.”

“You know it.” Marcus grins. “I’ve already downloaded it. It also has a wedding portion of the app. Basically you can upload all your important moments in it.” He doesn’t mention that he had set it up for the proposal that didn’t happen last night.

“You think of everything.” He really does, so it’s barely even an embellishment. At this point you’re just relieved that you can think of small things again instead of the larger, overhanging fear of just a few hours ago.

“Not everything.” Marcus snorts, winking at you. “Otherwise, I would have had coffee delivered by now.”

“Mostly everything, then.” One more kiss and you pull back to get your things sorted out around the room. “I’m going to tidy up a little and get out a couple of comfort things for Syd. So when she comes down she’ll have her favorite cardigan and things like that.” Absolutely anything you can do to soothe your best friend’s hellish night, you’re going to.

“That sounds perfect.” Marcus agrees. “I’ll go grab the coffee. What do you want, sweetheart?”

“Just my usual.” Your hum of appreciation is more relaxed than it would have been earlier in the night. “I love you, baby.”

“I love you too.” He promises as he quickly starts changing into the clothes he had brought.

Marcus is gone for about a half an hour before the door to the room opens again, but when it does it's Juan there – holding the door open wide as one of the overnight workers from the transport department wheels Sydney's bed back into the room with her nurse hot on their heels.

“We are back.” His tone is exhausted but elated at the same time. It’s been a sleepless night for him. Afraid that he would close his eyes and Sydney would be gone.

"How are you feeling, honey?" You're at Sydney's side as soon as the nurse is done getting her settled. The woman has the patience of a saint and excuses herself to go retrieve Constance, who is being allowed to leave the NICU.

“Tired. Sore.” She admits with a quick, tired smile. “Impatient to hold my daughter.”

"She'll be down soon." Glancing at the door where the nurse has disappeared to bring around that same little girl, the warmth in the room starts to grow exponentially. "Marcus went to get coffees. And I'll bring sushi for lunch. Cross my heart."

“I don’t know if I’m hungry.” Sydney admits with a slight shrug. She’s still a little disoriented from the drugs. “But coffee sounds amazing. I could sleep for days.”

"Then we won't worry about food right now. But Marcus is bringing back coffee for you, and he should be back very soon." You grin at your friends and send them both a conspiratorial shrug. "I sent him with a map, otherwise you know he would have gotten lost."

Juan laughs as he fuses over Sydney, hovering as if she might disappear if he steps too far away. “He should have been a Lieutenant in the military, as bad as he is.”

“I’ve just learned to always have a map for new places or to set up the gps in his car without asking.” It’s a quirk, and you all have them, but Marcus’s ability to get lost almost anywhere is a standing joke between the four of you and it’s so, so good to hear Syd laugh. Even if it’s only a little, it’s completely worth it.

The knock on the door comes just a moment later and Marcus pokes his head in. “Oh you’re here!” He brightens up and pushes the door open, the delivery person from the flower shop hot on his heels. “I was hoping to get all this inside before you did.”

“We just got back.” Syd is groggy for sure, but not so badly that she doesn’t register the tray of coffees and bag of food with the hospital’s cafe logo on it that you jump forward to snag from him and the delivery of flowers that comes in behind him. With the tension and fear of the last few hours and all the emotions and hormones still raging in her, Sydney is immediately in tears. “You—you got flowers?” She half-squalls like it’s the kindest and most loving thing any person has ever done in the history of time. For her, especially right now, it definitely feels like it.

“Ohhhh don’t cry.” Marcus frets slightly, even though he’s pretty sure that they are happy tears. “I wanted you and Constance to have a beautiful reminder of how loved you both are.” He walks over to the recovering woman, that he now regards as his friend, leaning down to kiss her cheek. “More are coming too.” He promises.

“It’s so sweet!” Syd huffs between large tears, hugging Marcus as tightly as her recovering body will permit. “You’re so sweet.” Even after we interrupted your plans, she thinks loudly, but manages not to say it. She knows what last night was supposed to be and she hated having to call when she knew Marcus was about to sweep you out the door.

“You deserve nothing but happiness right now.” He promises, looking over at Juan and squeezing Sydney gently before he pulls back and moves over to the new father. “Congratulations.” He is somber, aware of what the agony of the night had done to his friend.

“It was a hell of a night.” Juan pulls Marcus in for a hug — something the two men need right now for grounding, but Juan also murmur, “And sorry for the timing” to Marcus before pulling away.

“Don’t ever worry about that.” Marcus insists. “Doesn’t matter if I was in the middle of it, we would have been on our way.” Yes, proposing to you and giving you a beautiful moment is important to him; but some things are always much more important and this is at the top of that priority list.

“We’ll make it work.” Juan promises quietly, glad to see you absorbing Sydney in conversation while she marvels at the flowers that Marcus ordered.

“How’s Constance doing?” Marcus asks quietly, not seeing the bassinet in the room. “Will she be released from the NICU soon?”

“Our doc said she’s stable, so she can come down and have some family time and be fed.” As a brand new father of only about two and a half hours, that has Juan both puffing out his chest and teary with pride. “The nurse should be bringing her down now.”

“That’s great!” Marcus grins, knowing that both mama and daddy will feel better with their newborn daughter in their room.

Having settled Sydney with her coffee and treat — Marcus brought muffins back from the cafe — you excuse yourself to the bathroom and feel like you can finally breathe. Syd is here. You can hear her muffled laughing through the door. And the baby will be down soon. Everyone is okay.

“Looks Marcus…” Sydney’s voice is hushed and he can tell by her guilty expression what is coming. “Please, don’t apologize again.” He begs her softly. “There is nothing to apologize for.”

“I can call Kingbird,” she offers immediately. Explain it was my fault you had to cancel and get you a new reservation.”

“No.” He shakes his head and glances back at the bathroom. “I don’t think she’s going to be leaving your side for quite awhile and I cannot in good conscience try to convince her otherwise.”

He insists that she shouldn’t apologize more but Sydney still feels like she ought to, pursing her lips until she eventually tilts her head to look up at the men standing side by side at her bed. “You could still do it tonight if you wanted to,” she offers. It’s technically morning now — past six, anyway — but she hasn’t gotten any sleep yet so everything blends together. “It…” she blows out a sigh. “I know it wasn’t the easiest night.” For her especially. “But it would be nice to have Constance’s birth surrounded by happiness. Instead of what might have happened.”

Marcus considers it for a moment, frowning slightly and he bites his lip. “That is— are you sure?” He would never want to take away from Constance and her birth.

Sydney sits back in her hospital bed and takes Juan’s hand, letting him anchor her the way you always do with Marcus. “I don’t want the only thing I remember about the day my daughter was born to be that both of us almost died,” she admits quietly, knowing it’s a little selfish to ask him for this but also knowing that the happy memories you make together mean everything to the four of you.

He can understand that and he bites his lip. “Then….what do you think about me proposing here?” He asks. “It’s not the most romantic setting, but I think under the circumstances, it’s the best place to do it.”

“There’s flowers and best friends and I know you brought her back her favourite muffin.” Juan chuckles, feeling a bit misty eyed over more good things happening. “What’s more romantic than that?”

“Maybe we can do something that involves the baby?” Marcus suggests.

“I will squall.” Sydney warns, already tearing up all over again. “But quickly before she comes back…wrap the ring box in the baby blanket?”

“Perfect.” Marcus dives for the bag that had been packed for Constance and finds the soft baby blanket they had decided to wrap her in while in the hospital. “When the baby comes in, ask her to get the blanket for you.” Marcus tells Sydney.

“If we can keep a straight face,” Syd laughs, but agrees immediately.

Marcus hides the ring box in the folds of the blanket. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

“More than.” Sydney promises, right before the bathroom door opens.

You had washed up a little again, refreshing yourself and feeling a little more human while you were in the bathroom. “Did you manage to rest a little while you were upstairs?” Your focus is right back on Sydney but you take a second to give Marcus a kiss of thanks when he hands you your coffee.

“Yes.” She’s still tired and exhausted, but she smiles. “I did, you don’t worry about me.” She huffs, knowing that it won’t do any good. You will fret over her just like Juan will. “Looking forward to sushi later.”

“We’ll have a sushi party and baby girl can get milk drunk like a party animal.” Making the best of what had been a nearly calamitous situation is good for everyone’s spirits right now. You help the guys set up a little area as a breakfast ‘table’ for the three of you and set Sydney’s things on her tray. It’s about time for the morning shows that Juan loves so the tv goes on, and seconds later the nurse enters with her bundled up charge yawning as loudly as her little lungs can manage.

“Oh my god.” Marcus coos as soon as he sees the little angel in the flesh. She is perfect and nothing will convince him otherwise, falling in love with his goddaughter in a split second. “She’s so precious.”

“She’s perfect.” As expected, Sydney and Juan are both in tears all over again, and the nurse who helped Sydney get comfortable upstairs makes sure Mom and Dad have everything they need before bowing out to let the family bond.

“She’s beyond perfect.” It’s all you can do not to cry with them, looking at your best friend and goddaughter together.

“Isn’t she?” Sydney completely agrees as she finally gets to hold her newborn daughter. Completely in awe of how perfect she is.

The room is practically full of the sound of smiling, whatever that really is, but you end up half-laughing under your breath and looking to Marcus with fresh water behind your eyes. "I want one too," you laugh, overwhelmed with absolute joy and love.

He laughs at your eagerness, the yearning and knows that you are only partially joking. “I don’t know if we could top how perfect she is.” He admits with his own chuckle.

"Maybe not." The only possible place for you to be right now is snuggled into his side and you tuck yourself in there to just stare at your goddaughter together. "We can't know until we try, though."

Sydney spares a glance at Marcus, who nods as he holds you close. “We have to get through a few other things first.” He reminds you.

"I know." You hum when he presses a kiss to the top of your head and sigh again. "I just love her so much and I wanna give her everything. Including playmates."

Sydney coos at Constance and cuddles her closer. “Birdie, would you get me her baby blanket?” She asks softly. “From her bag? I want her in the things we picked out.”

"Yeah, of course!" You hop to immediately, slipping out of Marcus's arms to go to the bag Sydney packed. The baby blanket from Sydney's parents is folded near the top. It's a light thing, a beautiful hand knitted piece done in their chosen color of green and then embroidered with the initials CMB for Constance Marie Badillo.

The blanket slips a little in your hand when you pick it up, and when you go to right it a small but weighty something falls out from the center. The realization that it's probably something that Juan tucked away as a surprise for Sydney has you tucking it back inside quickly and handing over the blanket like you're suddenly holding a hot potato.

Sydney hadn’t been expecting you to hand over the blanket so fast so she pushes towards you again for a moment. “Hold it please.” She requests, knowing you will do anything. She has to give Marcus time to get into position.

"Of course," you agree again, bobbing your head on a nod. Glancing over at Juan makes you wonder if you should do something to help, like opening up the blanket so she can see the little jewelry box or something. Maybe hold it sort of presentationally? You can't quite make up your mind and end up clutching the blanket to your chest in surprise when you hear Marcus clear his throat and whirl around to see him down on one knee in the middle of the little hospital room.

That jewelry box was definitely not for Sydney...

“Before you panic, I have the happy new parent’s permission.” Marcus promises as he reaches for the hand that is not clutching the blanket protectively. “And today is a celebration. Of life, and love.” He tells you softly.

"Oh my god." It's just about all you can think to say as you choke on a fresh round of tears and tighten your fingers in his hand.

“I know.” Marcus flashes you a grin. “Sweetheart, there is no one else I want by my side, confiding in, planning for the future and sharing part of my soul with.” He promises you. “I love everything about you and there is not one thing that I could possibly imagine changing. I love your loyalty to friends and family, your work ethic and your tenacity. Your tender heart and your penchant for dreaming.” He takes a big breath, clearly saying your full name. “Will you marry me?”

He can barely finish the question before your thick, cracking voice is chirping endless yeses. Before you're crumpling to your knees to kiss him, cradling the blanket between you as delicately as if the baby was already wrapped in it. "I love you" gets mixed in with all the "Yes!" and more "Oh my god" as if you can't quite believe that it's finally happening. From the moment that the two of you individually became a unit, you've both known that this was the direction you were heading in. But now that you're here? It feels even better than you could ever have guessed.

He knew your answer, he’s known it, but he still giggles in relief and cupping your cheek to kiss you. “I love you.” He promises softly, pecking your lips again and again. He hears both Juan and Sydney sniffling happily and knows this was the right call.

For a moment the room is just happy tears and sniffles and giggling, and you’re both so jittery that you get a little mixed up in retrieving the ring box from deep inside the handmade baby blanket in your arms. Marcus had said he bought your promise and engagement rings together so they would match and of course his decision is perfect — the haloed diamond stands out over heart shaped stones of the promise ring he gave you months ago, and the fact that they’re from him makes them so perfect you could just fall apart right here in his arm.

“It was.” He admits with a modest tilt of his head. “But I think that this might be even better. “Your best friend and goddaughter got to witness it.”

“And your best friend too.” No one who ever ran into Marcus and Juan now would think they had spent so many years apart. They’re more likely to be mistaken for twins than anything else, and actually had been on a dinner out a few weeks ago.

“It makes it better than anything else.” He nods in agreement, looking over at your friends. “We are friends and family.”

“Matron of honor and best man?” It’s hardly a question, but Marcus has slipped the beautifully shimmering engagement ring onto your finger and you glance back over at your tearful friends with absolute joy. “And the tiniest, sweetest, most perfect little flower girl in the whole world?”

“The perfect flower girl.” Marcus agrees with his own emotional chuckle. “And of course they are our matron of honor and best man. What else could they possibly be?”

“Your caterer.” Syd half-complains with a pout, but it’s so half-hearted that she just ends up laughing through the tears. “Get over here and let us hug you two, and meet your goddaughter up close. Obviously we’re going to be whatever you want us to be. All three of us.”

“Not going to happen.” Marcus snorts, shooting Sydney a smile. “You’re going to participate in the reception. But…” he shrugs. “We will let you create our menu.”

“Here we go.” Juan teases, gently taking the baby blanket out of your arms to wrap up his daughter with the already precious heirloom. “Breakfast and wedding planning.” He grins down at Sydney. “I’ll get your notebook and take notes. You focus on our angel.”

Marcus laughs because he knows that’s exactly what will happen. Although there might be a little more cooing over the baby than anything else going on. As it is, he can’t wait to get his hands on her.

“I already know what wedding cake you want.” Syd grins, readjusting in her seat so this conversation can include food for everyone, including little Constance. She’s already gotten her little girl to latch once without a hellish amount of trouble so she’s hoping to do it on her own this time.

There has already been plenty of conversation about Sydney breastfeeding, but Marcus busies himself with his bag while she gets her daughter situated. It’s not because he’s weirded out, just a respect thing, giving the new mother time to get used to being exposed without feeling like she’s in a fishbowl.

“I’m covered,” Sydney assures him, after a few minutes of fussing where Marcus does anything but look directly at her. His respect level is top notch and she appreciates that about him. “Let’s talk food, please? And—” Before she can even ask, Juan is handing her a cup of water and she melts and murmurs a quiet “Thank you.”

“I just wanted to give you some time.” Marcus joins the small group, sitting down when you stand up and pulling you into his lap while Juan sits on the bed with his wife and child. “So right off the bat, what’s your first ideas?” He’s smart enough to know the final menu will be completely different from the first one.

“Americana.” You and Sydney grin at each other and you lean back in Marcus’s lap to sip your coffee while you talk. “Updated versions of classic American dishes.”

“What would that look like?” He asks, frowning in confusion. “Meat loaf?”

“Could be.” Sydney nods. “It could be things like gourmet versions of tv dinners.”

“Or it could be modern versions of older popular dishes,” you nod in agreement. “Like upscale Steak Diane or deconstructed chicken pot pie.”

“Finger foods?” Marcus asks. “I’m sure there will have to be a buffet of canapés.”

“Depends on the events.” Smiling around a sip of iced coffee, you press a kiss to Marcus’s temple a second later. “I’m thinking four.”

“Four events?” Marcus chuckles. “That’s bachelorette party, bridal shower, rehearsal dinner and wedding?”

“Maybe five,” you admit with a sheepish grin. “You said you wanted to have an engagement party.”

“I think that it’s a good place for the publicity your mom wants.” He reminds you.

“Five events is a lot, but if we space them out I think we can manage it.” Looking down at him with an absolute glow on your face, your brand new engagement ring catches the light and makes your chest swell. “What season do you want to get married in?”

“Any one you want.” It’s fair in his mind, he’s been married before and all that matters to him is that you repeat your vows in front of friends and family. What the weather is like doesn’t matter a lick to him. “I guess it depends on how fast we can get it planned?”

“Don’t do less than six months,” Juan warns. His cousin had rushed things to disastrous consequences.

“I wouldn’t.” You can totally agree to that. “My impulse would be to say a year but…I’ve kind of always liked the idea of a summer wedding.” Chewing on the idea, you turn your eyes back down to Marcus again. “Roses stop blooming at the end of the summer.”

“Early fall?” He suggests. “October? It gives us seven months. And you will more than likely have White House help.” He shrugs. “Along with mine, of course.”

“If we did October, maybe I can do a summer bridal shower in the White House rose garden?” Your eyes widen, practically begging. “I would really love to use the rose garden.”

“Then you better make sure your mom doesn’t book it for a tea party.” He teases with a wink, reaching for your hand that now holds his engagement ring. “I think October is perfect. Hell, we could do a Halloween rehearsal dinner.” He jokes.

“Don’t even tease me about that,” you huff. A Halloween event would be exactly your style. “Halloween next year is on a Wednesday, otherwise I would be begging you to get married on Halloween.”

“Baby, if that’s what you want….” He shoots Juan a grin and shrugs. “I’m okay with that.”

“I don’t want to get married on a Wednesday night.” No one parties deep into a Wednesday night in their thirties. It doesn’t feel as special to you. “How about we get married earlier in October and I talk you into visiting the Paris catacombs with me on Halloween night during our honeymoon?”

“That works for me just as easily as anything else.” Marcus promises. “Only thing I care about is you and I celebrating our love and making a public commitment to each other.”

“I love you, too.” If it were just the two of you, you would be getting dressed to run off to a soulmate chapel immediately. But promises have been made and they need to be honored, and every chance to declare your love for Marcus loud and clear is worth taking. “Any Pike family traditions we should keep in mind that I don’t know about already?”

Marcus smiles. “There’s a jewelry set that is passed down to be used in the wedding, if wanted.” He adds. “It was my great, great grandmother’s.”

“Really?” Your expression softens immediately, eyes widening a little, and you nod right away. There is no question in your mind that you’re going to wear it. “Your Mom swore to pass down some family recipes after the wedding but she never mentioned heirlooms.”

“It’s only ever offered after the engagement.” He explains. “We had a certain cousin’s wife - I’m sure you can guess who - think that it was for her to keep.”

When Sydney and Juan look equal parts amused and confused, you snicker slightly. “Hannah has very interesting thoughts about the family,” you tell them, glossing over the few less than kind things Hannah Pike had said either to you or that had been relayed to you. “Which reminds me. I’m absolutely going to ask Selena to be a bridesmaid.”

“Sydney, you will love her.” Marcus promises. “She’ll be flying out every other weekend to help you plan.” He warns you. “Or just staying out here, she can work from anywhere.”

“She’s been thinking about moving,” you admit, barely biting back a grin at how much fun it would be to have her nearby permanently. Marcus’s cousin has become one of your closest friends in the months since your first visit to Texas. “She said she wants to come see what winter is like here to make sure it’s not too bad, but her office is opening a DC branch and asked her if she would be interested in heading up the new team out here.”

“How do you know that and I don’t?” He asks, putting on a faux pout.

“Because she hasn’t told your aunt and uncle yet and she didn’t want it to get back to the family.” That grin of yours becomes full force and you kiss his temple again. “She was trying to save you from having to lie if you got asked.”

“Well, then, you didn’t say anything to me.” He mimes zipping his lips and locking them to throw away the key.

"Probably a good policy," you agree, snickering quietly even as you squeeze his shoulders tightly.

There’s a sense of lazy content in the room. Everyone slowly savors the baked goods that Marcus had brought and sips their coffee. The baby, Constance, is the noisiest of them all, her hungry sucking and grasping one that makes all the adults smile as they look at her every thirty seconds.

She is Sydney’s entire focus, and when the baby is done with her own breakfast there is a little fuss over making sure she’s burped properly before she cuddles up against her mother’s chest to have a post-meal nap. Something that makes Sydney sigh in relief and hold her close. “You’d never know how bad last night almost was by looking at her.”

“Children are resilient.” Marcus muses. “She will never remember her birth and be completely unaffected by it, while it will stay with us forever.”

“All the better.” Sydney soothes one hand over her sleeping daughter’s back.

Marcus watches the loving gesture, almost aching for the time where he can watch you soothe the children you will have together. Will you look as much like Madonna and Child like Sydney does now? He thinks it will be even more profound like undoubtedly Juan feels like it is.

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

HHL: @haileymorelikestupid @anoverwhelmingdin @storiesofthefandomlovers @missladym1981 @babeincolor @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Marcus Pike #Marcus Pike x you #Marcus Pike x reader #Marcus Pike x female reader #Marcus Pike x f!reader #The Mentalist #soulmate au #First Daughter reader #Juan Badillo #Graceland #Juan Badillo x f!OC #Juan Badillo x OC #pregnancy tw #childbirth tw #traumatic birth

104 notes · View notes

cosmicstarlatte · 2 years ago

Text

US State They're From (Obey Me!)

━━━━━━━━━━ ✦ ━━━━━━━━━━

My personal HCs of what state they'd be from with no real explanation lol.

»Characters: Demon Bros + Dateables

»Tags: Absolute shitpost, Headcanons, I Will Not Budge On Solomon

Lucifer: New York

He's got shit to do, move along.

He loves his lox bagels.

Mammon: New Jersey

I know it, you know it, he knows it.

Levi: Ohio

I don't have the words. I'm sorry Levi.

Satan: Washington

Not too much, not too little. It's perfect for him.

Just let him have this.

Asmo: California

He knows how to live life to the fullest. Go big or go home darling.

Beel: Texas

Everything's big in Texas. 😏

Also, have yall been to Bucees? Beel basically lives there.

Belphie: Alaska

Let him be. He grew up with the wolves.

Diavolo: Nevada

He loves his state. So many fun things to do. He loves to represent.

Barbatos: Louisana

I truly can't elaborate but I feel it in me bones. It doesn't make sense, but it does.

Solomon: Florida

As a native Floridian, I know it.

He is Florida Man™️.

Simeon: Vermont

Its simple and peaceful and he reflects this everyday.

Luke: South Carolina

A sweet pea and his sweet tea. Amen.

⬦You might also like: Fire Alarm

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me shitpost #obey me humor #obey me crack #cosmic posty post #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me imagines #◇˖・ﾟ— › cosmic obey me . ⊹#shitpostcifer

432 notes · View notes

rishiguro · 2 years ago

Text

THE SONGS HAIKYUU BOYS DANCE WITH YOU TO IN THE KITCHEN

a/n: brainrot goes brrr

warnings: mentioned alcohol consumption in the first one.

pretty woman — roy orbison

“what are you doing?” you mumbled confused as you looked at your lover, as he set his phone down on the counter. he only shushed you, gesturing for you to come closer. “come here,” he slurred, clumsily stumbling over his words. you followed his request, tripping over your feet as you practically fell into his arms giggling. before you could even look up at him, he started to swirl your bodies around the kitchen, pressing kisses all over your face. and while your feet hurt from walking around and dancing all night, your skin was sweaty and both of your breaths smelled of alcohol, this was the perfect end to your evening.

SUNA. sugawara. bokuto. nishinoya. tendou.

hopelessly devoted to you (from “grease”) — olivia newton-john

“how about giving me a hand here?” you asked with a smile on your lips, leaning back into his body. he had his arms wrapped around you, softly swaying your bodies to the sound of the music. he had his eyes closed, only replying after you nudged him a bit. “no,” he sighed, “i don’t wanna. just let me be here with you” you couldn’t help but giggle at his sleepy tone, feeling him lean more on you with every second, practically inhaling your warmth. “i love you,” he mumbled kissing your exposed neck, “so, so much” rolling your eyes you turned in his hold. “you’re a dork” with a sheepish smile he pulled you close to him, both hands resting on your waist as you started following the rhythm.

daichi. OIKAWA. tanaka. yaku. yamaguchi. hinata.

cupid‘s chokehold/breakfast in america — gym class heroes

you didn’t think this was how you would spend your sunday mornings. hair still messy after you got up, still in your pajamas with no shoes on your feet, the tiles on the floor cold against your bare skin. his hands were warm in your hips, back hunched as his face was hidden in the crook of your neck. his eyes were closed as he hummed, occasionally pressing a peck on your skin, making you shudder. you had a lovesick smile on your lips, head leaning against his. after a while he pulled himself up again, now putting his forehead against yours. “i’m so in love with you,” he mumbled, clearly still sleepy as the two of you danced across the kitchen, barely even paying attention to the music playing. and while you never imagined yourself in this situation, you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

osamu. SEMI. hanamaki. tsukishima. kenma. sakusa.

just the two of us — grover washington

“i’m trying to watch the pasta here,” you muttered at your boyfriend, trying to ignore him pulling at your form. “and i don’t care,” he grinned, “come on” before you could even respond, he whisked you away from the stove, tightening his arms around your entire body and pressing you to him. he immediately started to move to the music, swaying his hips. you laughed out loud, playfully punching his chest. “don’t act like you don’t love this,” he said, “i know you do” and while you had to roll your eyes, a wide grin plastered itself on your face. “do i?” he hummed. “oh you do” the two of you continued in silence until you could hear some sizzling coming from the stove. “the pasta!”

KUROO. atsumu. matsukawa. yamamoto. futakuchi.

good old fashioned lover boy — queen

with one warm hand on your waist, the other one intertwined with yours, he twirled you through the kitchen with fast steps. the two of you danced with vigor, only concentrating on each other’s presence which ultimately led to the two of you stumbling into a kitchen counter. he immediately pulled you close to him, kissing your forehead. “i’m sorry, darling,” he mumbled, his ears turning red, “i’m afraid i was too distracted” you smiled at him, shaking your head. “don’t worry, nothing happened,” you grinned at him, enjoying how his face slightly flushed. he cleared his throat after giving you a soft kiss. “so, do you want to continue?”

ushijima. asahi. KITA. akaashi. iwaizumi. kageyama.

#₊❏❜ ⋮haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu x you #hq x reader #hq x you #haikyuu imagines #haikyu x reader #haikyuu fluff #hq fluff #haikyuu #hq headcanons #hq imagines #haikyuu!!#haikyu headcanons #haikyu fluff #haikyu x you

409 notes · View notes

darling-phoebe · 2 months ago

Text

rich bitch ! vienna carlisle-washington ❥ headcanons / intro post

do i like billionaires irl? no, eat the rich. do i like billionaire oc's in a yandere context? absolutely. anyway, hope you enjoy!! gn reader, no use of pronouns or y/n. warning for brief but graphic mention of torture, and typical yandere themes

─ [ . : ｡✿ ]

to put it simply, vienna wants to spoil you fucking rotten

she'd been living off of daddy's money up til she was 20, when she started her own makeup empire, velvet luxury cosmetics. now she was a billionaire in her own right, and fully intended on spending every cent on you.

the idea that a billion dollars is more than a person could possibly spend in a lifetime? well she's gonna test that theory by buying you the world and everything in it.

definitely the provider-protector type of yandere. to her, you're an angel. her god-given solace in a world full of insufferable morons. and when she's richer than god himself, why not treat her angel to all the luxury and wealth you deserve? she wants to make you dizzy with all the lavish gifts. she wants to prove she can provide anything you could ever want or need. and she needs you to know that no one could possibly take better care of you, darling.

you mention your car needs an oil change? suddenly it's nowhere to be found, replaced by a much more expensive model sitting in your parking spot. you have a slight cough? you're being examined by a team of the world's best doctors like you're a fascinating medical mystery. you just have a cold. you want that necklace? consider it yours. like a certain style of sweater? you'll have a few in each color in your closet tomorrow. and of course if your job is stressing you out, or your landlord's being an asshole, then she's all-too-eager to move you into her place and provide everything for you.

but of course, she intends to care for you in less materialistic ways too. to the rest of the world, she's cold, bitchy, and arrogant, but to you? she's sweet as could be, supporting you wholeheartedly in anything you want to do and singing your praises non-stop.

speaking of, she definitely has a thing for praising you in bed.

she isn't typically the type to get her own hands dirty for you. she has people she can pay to do that sort of thing, and trust me, she will.

once, one of your so-called calls you a gold digger behind your back, criticizing the way you let vienna spoil you so. she was found dead next morning. what if she had continued saying such ridiculous words, and it got back to you somehow? she couldn't let some stupid wretch so much as dampen your day. she had a few of her men literally rip her limb from limb. she still watches the tape sometimes, gives her goosebumps in the most delicious way. vienna can't get enough of those agonized screams.

"serves her right, saying such nasty things about my angel."

but if someone actually manages to hurt you, whether it be physically or emotionally, then she'll have a more... hands on approach. she'll still let her men get the pest all tied up and prepped with a few nasty wounds first, but she has to be the one to end their miserable, insignificant life. she won't be able to sleep until she does.

of course, she'd never let you see this side of her. sweet thing like you wouldn't be able to stomach it, now would you? no, she'll just keep talking sweet to you and catering to your every desire, never letting you see just how dangerous she really is.

─ [ . : ｡✿ ]

❛ when will you realize? vienna waits for you ❜

#lovely lily #petal #yandere imagines #yandere oc #yandere #yandere male #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #yandere x you #rich bitch ❥ vienna

37 notes · View notes

toomanytookas · 2 months ago

Note

One of our patrons swears this little fella escaped from your pocket as you left the coffee house this week.

We're named him Mortimer and he's living with Marcus for now, but you'll want to reclaim him before they move off to Washington to start a new life.

Firstly, Megan, how on Earth did you guess his name? Did he talk to you? I can never get him to speak!!!

I think what unfortunately has happened is that I have spent far too much time reading meet cutes with my screen within Mortimer’s eyeshot and he’s endeavoured to make one happen, that silly romantic fuzzball.

You know the kind…

Character A — we’ll call him Marcus (of course no relation to this Marcus we’re just using the name because it’s cute 👀) —finds character B’s beloved pet ambling about his place of work. He gets no response to his FOUND: WITCHY HAMSTER NAMED MORTIMER posters (suddenly it is absolutely impossible to suggest this is a generic plot description…). Out of the goodness of his heart, Marcus invites Morty to live with him, starts to really feel like the darling fluff is a deeply wonderful and important part of his life and happiness…

But wait! Just as it seems that everything has settled into a new routine, B and Marcus meet! Perhaps B’s returned for another fantastic piloncillo latte at this fine establishment of yours and spots Morty riding around in Marcus’s apron (somehow it’s been cleared for health code purposes). There are reunion tears, human bonding over shared love of that silly hamster, a bit of flirting, and then before you know it it’s been hours, the cafe’s cleared out, and all that’s left is for Mortimer’s two favorite people in this whole wide world to take the next step that will mean his adventures in real world matchmaking were a smashing success.

Oh, Marcus, of course we can make arrangements so Mortimer can get to see you as often as you’d like. He’ll miss you ever so much. You’d be welcome to visit our soft, squeaky friend anytime. Day or night. Would you believe it, my bed is also soft and squeaky… perhaps you might like to make its acquaintance? I also have some incredibly wonderful snacks, do you think you’d like to come over and stuff them into your cheeks after we take a never ending run on a spinning disk or perhaps share a drink from that giant bottle on the wall with the metal straw in it?

Okay, maybe the hamster is also adding a bit of his own understanding of what dating looks like at the end there… but I’ve gotta admit the rest of it sounds pretty dang cute. DC, you say? I do hear it’s quite a lovely city…

#just chattin #jolabrew + withcheese

16 notes · View notes

e-dubbc11 · 5 months ago

Note

Let's hope this little summer sleepover will bring some sun. Could use it 🤣❤️

I hope it's okay I combined from two different lists, but I would absolutely love

And "Can you kiss it better?"

With our dear Rumlow. You write him so good 🥰❤️

Happy summer to you, my dear ⛱️🌊☀️

My darling Lily,

I’m so happy you enjoy the way I write for Rumlow. So I hope you like what I did here because I’m pretty pleased with how this came out ♥️♥️♥️

Beat the Heat

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Brock Rumlow x F! Reader

Warnings: Some swear words, sexual references but mostly PG-13, fluff, Brock being Brock ie, a grouch, arguing, smooches.

Word Count: 2.7K-ish

Summary: Reader and Brock buy a new home and move in on the hottest day of the summer.

A/N: I’m sorry there’s so much teasing in this one and not actual smexy time, if that’s something you want, don’t hesitate to let me know 🤣🥵

As always, thank you for reading! I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

He had taken one look at the property and almost put in an offer before even looking at the interior of the large brick ranch-style house. The five-acre lot surrounded by lush greenery, enormous trees, and enchanting walking trails was what sold him. This little sanctuary in Fairfax Station, Virginia offered a rural living space but still let you remain in close proximity to the rapid pulse of Washington, D.C., where you both worked.

He liked the quiet…and you did too.

The canopy of tall trees above tried their best to block out the sun but it still warmed the grass underneath and a symphony of bird songs floated down from the twisted and knotted branches. Your only company and neighbors close by were the diverse assortment of wildlife from families of deer, mischievous foxes, and high flying birds of prey.

It was a combination of serenity and seclusion that was a welcomed sight from busy city life you wanted to get away from. You just didn’t want to live there anymore so this place was perfect.

The hard lines on his face and furrowed brow softened when he noticed how quiet it was, how undisturbed the property was with the exception of the house and the charming fire pit, and his amber colored eyes shined like gold against the sun in the bright blue sky.

A wide smile stretched across your face when you noticed how happy this place made him; you knew it was home even before he told you it was the one.

“You love it already, don’t you handsome.” You stated with a warm smile.

Slightly embarrassed, Brock replied, “I do, doll. I really do. I can’t explain it but—“

You cut him off. “You don’t have to, baby. It’s written all over your face. We probably should look at the inside of the house too though.” You said sarcastically.

The lines around his eyes crinkled when he smiled and the rasp in his voice sounded incredibly sexy when he laughed. At work, Brock tended to be a little on the grouchy side. At SHIELD, he had a tough, high stress job while yours was a little more laid back which is why you were good for him. You taught him how to relax and have a good time and also made him smile and laugh which wasn’t easy to do.

It might be good for you to live away from the city but you’ll have to wait to see if your offer would be accepted.

**********

2 Weeks Later

After a long day at work, you had kicked your shoes off, changed into comfortable clothes, and poured yourself a glass of wine. It was late spring so it was starting to get really warm and your ride home wasn’t exactly comfortable anymore. The exhaust from all the cars, the heat, and humidity all made it harder to breathe so you were happy to be home where the temperature inside was perfect.

The sound of keys jingled outside your apartment door from the hallway. Brock must be home. He walked through the door wearing his leather jacket and holding his motorcycle helmet. His wild dark hair was a mess from wearing the helmet for the ride home; it just made him sexier in your eyes.

Brock walked over to where you were sitting, resting his helmet on the couch, he leaned down and gently pressed his lips to yours. Cupping his cheek, his skin felt warm from being underneath the helmet.

“Warm out there today, huh doll?” He asked rhetorically.

Pulling away from him slightly, you replied, “What did I tell you about putting that helmet on my white couch, Rumlow?”

“And didn’t I tell YOU that maybe a white couch wasn’t the best idea? Hmmm?” He said with a sly smile.

“Oooh…it’s a good thing you’re cute. How was your day, handsome? You didn’t come visit me today; you must have been busy.” You said with narrowed eyes.

Brock eased the jacket off of his shoulders and headed for the kitchen to get a beer like he did every day after a long day at work.

“Ah, I’m sorry sweetheart. I got a phone call from the realtor at lunch, that’s why I couldn’t visit today.” He said.

You aggressively closed your book and set your wine down on the coffee table.

Nervously, you asked, “What did she say, Brock?!!”

He frowned, took a sip of his beer, and sat down next to you.

“I’m sorry to tell you this baby, but…” He paused with a serious look on his face.

Immediately, you felt your stomach drop into your toes and your heart started to beat faster and faster. You were ready to express your disappointment when he finished his sentence.

“Pack your shit, we’re movin’ to Virginia!!” He exclaimed.

Confused and caught off guard, you asked, “Wait, what? They accepted our offer?!!”

“They sure did!” He said.

Brock’s lips collided with yours. Easing you backwards so you were resting against the arm of the couch, he settled himself between your legs, his lips brushed against your cheeks and he parted your lips with his tongue. His thick fingers pressed into the outside of your thigh as he kissed the hollow of your throat.

His stubble tickled your neck and you started to giggle.

“That tickles, baby!” You said, grasping his hair and drawing his head back to meet your gaze. “So when are we moving?!”

“Soon.” He replied. “I do love this place but I can’t wait to get the fuck outta the city, ya know?”

“I know Brock, I know.” You said. “Ooh, it’s gonna be hot outside when we move though, but I don’t really wanna wait, do you?”

“We’ll be fine, sweetheart. Besides, we do have those new water guns we haven’t tested out yet.” He said.

With raised eyebrows, you replied, “Oh you mean the water CANNONS?”

“Yeah those will be fun…and make sure you wear a white t-shirt.” Said Brock with a wink.

All you could do was roll your eyes.

“I’ll try to remember that.” You said, playfully.

**********

Of course you were getting ready to move on the hottest day of the summer so far. You had on a white V-neck t-shirt, cut-off denim shorts, and your hair was piled high on top of your head to keep it off of your neck.

Also and unfortunately, you had been arguing with Brock all morning about things that normally wouldn’t be a big deal but it was already 80 degrees outside and you both were cranky and hot from loading the moving truck.

He became angry with you when you said your dresser was ready to be put in the truck but the drawers were still full of clothes.

“I’ll just take the drawers out when they’re moving it so then all I’ll have to do is put the drawers back in when we get to the house.” You had said.

Brock was angry because he didn’t want the movers to see your underwear drawer. He didn’t say it out loud but you knew that was the reason.

There were two moving trucks. One that you and Brock loaded yourselves to drive over and the other was hired to move the heavy furniture. He became VERY angry when you said you were going to ride with the movers instead of him. You made sure Brock heard you ask them if it was alright.

“Do you guys mind if I ride with you to the new house? My boyfriend is being an ASSHOLE!” You said, curtly.

You could hear Brock growling under his breath at the thought of you riding in a moving truck in between a bunch of sweaty men. The blood in his veins burned like wildfire and his muscles stiffened every time he pictured you smiling at them or laughing with them. You knew it was only a matter of time before he exploded.

When you arrived at the house, you directed the movers to the rooms where you wanted the furniture placed. You could feel Brock staring at you, his mouth twisted with anger, and ready to pounce if one of the movers looked at you in a way he didn’t like.

The midday sun shined through the tops of the trees while a warm breeze rustled the leaves above you. It had to be at least 90 degrees out there even under the towering trees. Beads of sweat dripped down the side of your neck as you tried to cool yourself down with a hand held portable fan.

You and Brock were still not speaking to each other. Every time you were inside of the house, he was doing something outside and vice versa. After the movers had unloaded their truck, they left and you and Brock were there all alone without a buffer between the two of you.

It had already been a long day and while you were looking for the kettle so you could make some tea, you came across the box in the garage that had the water guns in it. A wide smile stretched across your face when you thought about getting Brock back for being a dick all day but you also hated fighting with him.

Even though he could obviously be a big grouch, you loved him and you knew that he loved you too, so what a better way to break the ice and the tension than to spray him with ice cold water.

Brock was resting in one of the Adirondack chairs around the fire pit. He had on his aviator sunglasses and he had taken off his t-shirt so he was just in his undershirt and pants, although you couldn’t tell if his eyes were closed or not.

The defined muscles in his arms were tight like piano wire and suddenly your breath was caught in your throat. His warm tanned skin was a sharp contrast to the tight white undershirt he had on, his legs were kicked out straight in front of him, crossed at the ankles, and his hands were folded across his chest.

It's hard to stay mad at him when he looks that hot just sitting in a chair.

The garden hose was attached to the garage so you could easily fill up the water guns without Brock seeing you and hose water is very COLD water. An evil chuckle escaped your lips as you crept to the side of the garage and started filling up the water guns. He was going to cool off one way or another.

By the way his chest was slowly rising and falling, it looked like Brock was sleeping but you couldn’t be sure. The cold drops of water dripping from the water gun dried immediately on the hot asphalt of the driveway and your body was starting to cool down from running your wrists under the refreshing water.

Brock picked his head up when he saw you walking across the yard toward him but still remained in a relaxed position.

“What are ya doin’ with those, doll? You comin’ to anger me some more ‘cause you did a pretty good job of that already.” He said with bitterness in his voice.

You stopped about five feet from where he was sitting, dropped the second water gun at your feet and replied, “Well one of these is for you if you want it to be. Or you can sulk some more; it’s up to you.”

“You think you’re bein’ cute, but you’re not. Ridin’ in their moving truck all the way down here, think that’s NOT gonna make me crazy?! You like makin’ me jealous like that?” He asked.

You shrugged.

“I dunno, you like bein’ a dick all day? ‘Cause you were!” You said with vigor.

He watched you pump the gun a few times to build up pressure and then you put your finger on the trigger.

“This is such a stupid fight, Brock. Just admit that you were mad because you didn’t want the movers looking in my underwear drawer.” You said sternly.

To anyone walking or driving by, the sight of the two of you arguing in the yard while one of you points a water gun at the other was probably quite comical.

“FINE! FINE!! Yes, I was mad about that! You have sexy underwear, baby. Of course I don’t want them looking at it.” He yelled.

A wide smile stretched across your face and you touched your tongue to your top teeth.

With a slight tilt of your head, you said, “Awwww, you like my sexy underwear, baby?”

Brock hung his head in slight embarrassment and a shy smile. He ran his fingers through his thick brown hair and replied, “You know I do, sweetheart.”

With narrowed eyes and a soft press of your lips, you said, “Well…I guess I can forgive you. But I still think you need to be punished.”

You aimed the water gun at his sunglasses.

Brock made a stop motion with his hand and said, “If you spray me with that water gun, I swear—“

And then pulled the trigger.

“Ahhh!!” He cried out, as the water knocked the glasses off of his face and into his lap.

You started to laugh as you continued to hit him in the face and drench his upper body.

“I regret nothing!!” You said, laughing maniacally.

His sunglasses fell to the ground when he stood up and started to move toward you.

“Well, you better start running!” He said with a devilish smile.

Brock picked up the other water gun and began chasing after you. Freezing cold water hit you directly in the back as it soaked through your white t-shirt.

Although the water was cold, it felt really good against your hot skin. Ducking and weaving, you tried to avoid the stream of water coming from Brock’s gun. Sometimes it worked and sometimes it didn’t but you were having a lot of fun doing it.

When you finally ran out of water, you surrendered on the porch outside the front door by dropping your gun and put your hands in the air. Brock’s wet undershirt clung tightly to his body and you could see all of his ab muscles through the shirt as droplets of water dripped down his broad shoulders.

Still trying to catch your breath, you said, “You’re all wet, Mr. Rumlow.”

Brock inched closer and you could feel his warm breath on your lashes, the ache between your thighs growing stronger and hungrier for him as he pulled you flush against him. His mouth split into a smile as his eyes speared you like a wild animal on the hunt.

He aggressively kissed the sculpted hollow of your throat, a muffled gasp escaped your lips, and you could feel him through his pants, pressed against your core.

With ease, he unbuttoned your shorts and his fingers disappeared underneath your waistband, touching the wet spot on your panties as he purred in your ear, “So are you, baby.”

A quiet whine fell from your lips as you pulled his face toward yours for a kiss. His lips were cool and wet against yours as he parted them with his tongue, gently pushing against your teeth, wanting desperately to tangle with yours.

Moaning against your lips, he suddenly broke the kiss. “I’m sorry, doll. I acted like a jerk today.”

“I’m sorry too, handsome. You’re not a dick…all the time.” You replied with a smirk. “Will you help me take off these wet clothes? I’ll show you my underwear.” You said with a laugh and a wink.

“Let’s go upstairs, sweetheart.” Said Brock.

He kissed you again and when you pulled away you said shyly, “Oh I think I hurt my knee when I stepped in that divot in the yard.”

“Did you?” He said with a devilish smirk.

“Can you kiss it better?” You asked, batting your eyelashes at him.

Brock leaned in to whisper in your ear, “Ya know I gotta kiss other parts before I get to your knee, right?”

You giggled and replied, “Oh I’m counting on it, baby.”

You loved your new home already.

Tag List: @gijos @nutmeg17 @nekoannie-chan @k-marzolf

Others that might enjoy: @fluffyprettykitty @itwasthereaminuteago @jvanilly @randomlittleimp

If I tagged you and you didn’t want to be, just let me know and I’ll never do it again. As always, thank you again for reading!

#brock rumlow #brock rumlow x reader #brock rumlow fanfiction #brock rumlow imagine #ericca’s summer sleepover 2024

28 notes · View notes

multiphandommess · 1 year ago

Text

Hospital Visits

Nicky Nichols X Reader

TW - OD'ing

Reader has to leave a case debriefing because Nicky is in the Hospital for OD'ing

Delilah POV

I woke up to the sunlight shining through the curtains. I turned over to see my beautiful girlfriend Nicky. She was gorgeous with the sun shining across her face, her curly hair spread around her head, and she looked serene and the most calm I had ever seen her. Unfortunately, my alarm went off, breaking the peace, though luckily, Nick stayed asleep. I got up, changed into my work clothes, and went into the kitchen to make my morning coffee. As I finished my cup and got my gun and badge, arms snaked around my waist.

“You weren’t planning on leaving without saying goodbye, were you, Lilah?” Nicky said, her distinctive rasp even more apparent with her morning voice.

“Of course not, darling. I need my morning kisses too, you know,” I replied. I turned around in her arms and put my arms around her neck. She smiled at me and leaned in for a kiss. As we pulled away and I went to put my cup in the sink, she straightened out my blazer, gave me one more kiss, and walked back into our bedroom. She was wearing my shirt and her underwear, “Nice ass, Nichols,” I called after her. She turned around, blew me a kiss, and continued into our room. I finished getting my things and walked out of my apartment.

Our day had been slow with only paperwork and no cases, that is until after lunch. We got called into the meeting room and Penelope started the debriefing. “Is that a-” I got cut off by my phone ringing. The caller ID said “George Washington University Hospital” and I knew that that was a hospital near my home. I picked up.

“Is this SSA Delilah Brown?” A nurse asked.

“Yes this is, is there something wrong?” I replied.

“Your girlfriend, Nicky Nichols, overdosed this morning at around 10 a.m.”

“WHAT?!” I said shocked

“She is alright and was moved out of the ICU 30 minutes ago. She is awake and is asking for you,” The nurse told me.

“Um, alright. Let her know I’ll be there in 45 minutes,” I said.

“Alright, I will,” She replied.

“Thank you,” I said, “Goodbye.” I sat there for a moment still trying to process things before I gathered my things to leave. “Hotch, Nicky OD’d and I have to go,” I said. Hotch was the only one who knew of my relationship because I didn’t want judgment for dating a former felon.

“Ok. I thought she stopped using,” He replied. “Me too,” I sighed, running my hands through my hair, “I’ll probably be spending a few days in the hospital so if you need anything on this case, call me, I’ll do my best to help.”

I walked into the hospital and went up to the front desk. “Can you tell me what room Nicky Nichols is in, please? I’m her girlfriend,” I asked.

“Floor 5, Room 606,” She replied.

“Thank you,” I said. I got up to her floor and walked to her room. I knocked on the door and heard a raspy “Come in”.

“Aww, baby. How are you feeling?” I asked her.

“A little better,” She said, her voice a little slurred, “Can you lay with me, please?”

I walked over to her side, put my bag down on a chair, and lay down next to her on the bed. She leaned into my chest.

“I’m sorry…I didn’t want to use again but I just…had to…” Nicky said, ashamed.

“I know, darling. I’m not mad at you, I promise. All this means is that we need to try rehab or therapy again. Relapsing is a part of it and that's okay. I know that it is off-putting and makes you feel bad but you are strong. I know that I sound annoyingly sappy but sometimes sap is necessary,” I told her.

“Normally I don't like it, but it’s comforting right now,” She replied.

“That’s good, but you should get some rest. I’ll be here, love,” I said.

After a couple of days, the team was back from the case. I helped the team as much as I could from Nicky’s room. A nurse came in and said that a group of FBI agents wanted to come in and see us. “Do you want to meet my team, baby?” I asked. I was still lying next to her.

“Um, sure,” She replied.

The team walked in and said hi. I was honestly really excited for the two most important parts of my life, my work family and the love of my life coming together finally felt almost unreal.

“Hi! You’re so pretty. I knew that Lilah would date someone pretty but you’re so beautiful! I love your hair,” Penny squealed.

The team stayed for about an hour and then the visiting hours ended, and they left.

“So, what did you think of my team?” I asked.

“I think I’ll get along with Morgan and Emily really well but I had a good time meeting them,” Nicky said, “I know that you had a lot of fun too because you had the biggest smile I’ve seen on your face.” She had a teasing smile on her face.

“I did enjoy it,” I admitted, “So, how does pasta at Rossi’s next week sound?"

#nicky nichols x reader #nicky nichols #oitnb

35 notes · View notes

bigtittybitch514 · 2 years ago

Text

Something in the Way

“If you're alive, raise your hands,” a male voice commanded. You obeyed, slowly lifting your arms in the air.

"Would it count if I said I was dead on the inside?"

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

This is my first fanfic, just felt compelled to write! :)

I’m probably going to make this a series, which will go all the way to RE4. There will be fluff! There will be angst! There will be smut! (eventually). I love slow burns and try to be lore accurate, and as non-ooc as possible. I haven’t actually played the game bc i get too scared, but I watch the hell out of gameplay and read wikis and blah blah. It’s hard to fully grasp locations admittedly when you haven’t played the game before, so I fully admit that it’ll be gray in that area. Anyway... enough about me.

(a little bit about you, I’ve given you a bit of a past just to correlate with the story, at the end of the day: I want you to think about yourself or your own characters)

no y/n

RE2, then RE4 later

she/her pronouns

you are 20+

TW there will be mentions of gore, violence, and blood!

3.3k words

You're headed to Raccoon City to search for your estranged mother, but little did you know that chaos awaits you. On the bright side, a charming rookie cop may just be a pleasant surprise along the way.

D-DAY/ CHAP 1.

"My darling daughter,

As I write this, I feel the end coming near. I'm so sorry for not being there for you when you needed me most. Life got in the way, and I made mistakes that I deeply regret. I hope you can forgive me. Please know that I love you more than words can express, and I'm so proud of the person you have become. You're strong, kind, and compassionate, and I know you will make the world a better place.

As I face the end, I need you to promise me something. Please do not go looking for me or try to find me. I need you to focus on your own safety and survival. You are strong, and I believe in you.

Remember that I will always love you, and I will always be with you in spirit. Please take care of yourself, my love.

With all my heart,

Mom"

That was the email you received in your Hotmail account this afternoon. You had read it over and over again until it burned into your memory, reciting it in your mind to ensure that you would never forget it. You tried to reply, asking your mother what was happening and what she meant, but there was no response.

Admittedly, you were not very close to your mother. After a nasty divorce, you went to live with your dad in Washington, and since then, she had faded in and out of your life like a distant memory. Some "Happy Birthday" calls, "How's school going?" emails, and "I miss you" letters were all you had of her since you were 13 years old. It hurt like utter hell.

But every time she called, you answered, and she gave you updates on her life. Whenever she wrote, you reciprocated. You went back and forth with yourself on whether or not you should respond until the aforementioned email popped up.

Unfortunately for you, "do not go looking for me" was enough to trigger your stubborn heart to do exactly what she didn't want you to do. You had always been headstrong, "got it from your father," your mom always used to say. You weren't sure what her email meant, and you sure as hell didn't like what it was implying. Was she dying? Dying from what? Why? Her email left you with nothing, no proper closure. Your chest ached.

Was it too late? Would you ever see her again? Would you ever reconcile? You never even got the chance to forgive her.

Even if you didn't remember much about her, you at least knew where she lived and what her job was. Mom was a pharmacist for the Umbrella Corporation in Raccoon City, over by the Arklay Mountains. She moved there not long after the divorce and has worked there ever since. She didn't speak much about her job, though you also never probed about it either.

What is there to question about a pharmacist job anyway? “Hey, you ever filled a months supply of Viagra?” Does Viagra even get prescribed? You’re not sure.

Soon after receiving the email, you made your way towards the industrial city as quickly as possible. The drive usually took about 10 hours, but you managed to make it in 7 ½ hours by driving like a madman. You were worried about getting pulled over, but luckily, it seemed like no police officers wanted to do their job today.

The drive through the mountains was breathtakingly beautiful, yet nerve-wracking. The twists and turns were treacherous enough during the day, but as dusk turned into the dark of night, they became even more terrifying. To make matters worse, rain began to fall in sheets, pounding the roof of your dad's beat-up old truck with an incessant din. You couldn't help but curse aloud at how this great scenic drive was being ruined.

Your old wipers were no match for this kind of weather, and as soon as you got close enough to the city, you decided to make a pit stop. Your ass was aching too, and the next exit sign indicated a gas station to the left of the freeway. You turned on your blinker and merged onto the exit intersection, eager to stretch your legs and relieve yourself. Your plan was to fill up your gas tank, grab a few snacks for the rest of the ride, and be on your way.

As you approached the gas station, the bright lights illuminated the area like a birthday cake in a dark room. You pulled up quickly, eager to get out of the rain. Parking your truck on the opposite side of a Jeep Wrangler, you found it strange that there was no one inside or outside the vehicle. But you didn't think much of it and stepped out of your jalopy, using your arm to shield your eyes from the downpour.

As you made your way to the pump, you noticed that the gas station was also empty, with no lights on inside. This was starting to feel a little fishy. You looked back at another car and saw that it too was empty. Something was definitely not right here.

And then you saw it.

Blood.

Dark red blood was splattered all over the concrete beneath your feet.

"What the fuck?!" you exclaimed in shock and horror.

In the distance, a piercing screech cried out like something straight out of a horror movie, and it made your blood run cold. Your heart was racing as you frantically looked around, trying to locate where the sound may have come from. Your mind raced with possibilities, but nothing could have prepared you for what you were about to see.

And then you saw them. Maybe ten of them. Dead bodies, shuffling towards you in a grotesque parody of life. Their flesh was rotting, their skin hanging off their exposed muscles in ragged strips. The stench of decay was overwhelming, and bile rose in your throat as you tried not to vomit.

As they drew closer, you could see the extent of their injuries. Some had chunks of flesh missing, exposing their bones and organs. Others had been shot or stabbed, leaving gaping wounds that oozed with pus and blood. And yet, despite their injuries, they kept coming towards you, their eyes fixed on you with a hunger that made your skin crawl.

You tried to back away, but your legs felt like they were made of stone. You were rooted to the spot, paralyzed with fear as the undead creatures moved closer. Your heart pounded in your chest, your breaths coming in short gasps as you desperately tried to think of a way out. The zombies were moving closer, their decaying fingers reaching out to grab you, it felt like their rancid breath was almost hot on your face.

Holy fucking shit.

Suddenly, your body moved before you could think, hands shaking as you fumbled with the keys before finally jamming them into the ignition. "Come on, come on, come on," you muttered frantically to yourself. The engine roared to life, and you slammed the truck into reverse, feeling the impact as you hit a few of the undead behind you, their putrid flesh smearing across the back windshield.

Without hesitation, you hit the gas and plowed through the horde in front of you, sending limbs and gore flying in all directions. Tears streamed down your face as you screamed in terror, the sound muffled by the roar of the engine. It was all too much, too real. Your father's voice echoed in your head, telling you to be strong, not to cry.

But you couldn't help it. The sobs wracked your body, making it hard to breathe. You forced yourself to slow down, to take deep, shuddering breaths in and out, trying to regain control. The road ahead stretched out, empty and silent, and you drove on, heart pounding in your chest, praying that you would make it to Raccoon City alive.

---

The drive to Raccoon City was eerily silent. The usual sound of music blaring from the speakers was absent, and the only thing you could hear was the hum of the engine. Your hands clutched the steering wheel so tightly that your knuckles turned white. You tried to shake off the fear that had gripped you earlier, but it was no use. Those things you encountered were like nothing you had ever seen before.

You desperately searched for a logical explanation to what you had witnessed. Was it a flash mob? A sick prank? But deep down, you knew those weren't plausible explanations. As your thoughts raced, your thumbs drummed nervously on the steering wheel. Was this what your mom was warning you about? Despite everything, you knew you had to find her. She was still your mother, and you were determined to reunite with her.

It was about a half an hour before you arrived in the city. It was a harrowing scene, a city in utter chaos. The streets were littered with abandoned cars, some still smoking, as embers licked the sides of buildings. The once bustling city now looked like a warzone. And in the midst of it all were the undead, their groans and moans filling the air. A repeated message to survivors blared on speakers, urging them to head over to the police station as soon as possible. Your heart raced as you wondered if your mother was there.

As you drove through the chaos, your truck garnered much attention. Its engine roared and headlights pierced through the darkness and rain. You couldn't help but think back to your father's strict parenting and the basic combat and defensive training he instilled in you. He was an army veteran who raised you to be fearless, and you couldn't let him down now. Even though it had been years since you had thoroughly practiced, you knew how to defend yourself if necessary.

But as you drove through the chaotic streets, you couldn't shake off the feeling of terror that had gripped you since you first saw the walking dead. You were determined to find your mother, but the fear of not making it to the police station in one piece was starting to weigh on you.

You frantically scour the old truck for anything that could aid in your survival: a car jack, McDonald's wrappers, and your backpack. Nothing seems particularly helpful, except for the backpack. You realize that it might come in handy if you needed to carry supplies like water, herbs, or even a weapon while searching for your missing mother.

As the walking corpses pound and scratch at your vehicle, you feel the truck shake violently. You know it's time to make a run for it. Although you don't have a solid plan, you've had years of self-defense training and are confident in your ability to use your legs and elbows to fight off attackers.

You pray to God, if they exist, that you'll find something to defend yourself or that you'll have enough skill to make it out alive. You put on the backpack and with a swift kick, you shatter the back window and scramble onto the roof.

Now, you need to find the police department. But where the hell could it be?

As you shield your eyes from the pouring rain, you scan the area, thinking of heading north in the hopes of finding a clue to guide you in the right direction. To your surprise, your truck wasn't that far from the sanctuary. A large brick gate with the letters "RPD" above it caught your eye, the light shining behind the sign like an angel was paving the way for you. The fence was made of sturdy brick, and the gates were steel. You just hoped they were open for entry.

You bravely leap off the top of the vehicle and make a beeline for the gates, the creatures screeching and reaching their arms towards you. As they try to grab hold of you, you execute a swift and powerful kick, sending one of them flying into a nearby bus and breaking its neck at a disgustingly awkward angle.

Ew.

As you barely escape the grasps of the monsters, you finally reach the gates, but guess what?

They're fucking locked.

Shit! What are you supposed to do now?

You frantically search for an alternative entry point, dodging zombies left and right, shoving and kicking them aside as you go. Finally, you spot a fire escape on the adjacent side of the building that leads up to the second floor, which appears to be zombie-free from your current vantage point. However, the fire escape is not easily accessible as it's about 50 feet away and you're on solid ground. But just then, you notice a tree next to the window swaying in the wind, creating a potential opportunity for you to reach the fire escape.

You sprint towards the majestic tree, grateful for its existence as it becomes your savior in this moment of peril.

With adrenaline coursing through your veins, you desperately cling onto the slick wood with your fingertips, refusing to look back at the grotesque monsters that hungrily pursue you. Your muscles strain and ache as you haul yourself up through the slick and treacherous branches. Panic overtakes you as you inadvertently step on a brittle branch, causing it to snap beneath your weight. Time seems to slow as you teeter on the edge of disaster, but you manage to grab onto a sturdier branch just in the nick of time, your heart pounding in your chest as you gasp for air. As you climb further up the tree you see your opportunity to move towards the ledge of the fire escape.

Three…Two…One…Go!

You make a daring leap towards the fire escape, and for a moment, time seems to stand still as your eyes fixate on the dizzying drop beneath you. But your body moves on instinct, your fingers grappling for the metal bars with a desperate grip that tightens with the surge of pure adrenaline. You manage to catch hold of the bars, your fingers aching from the impact, but you cling on for dear life. You push your body forward, lifting yourself up and over the metal railing.

Before you know it, your knees give out as they hit the metal bars beneath you, your body succumbing to the intense exertion you just went through. Despite being accustomed to physical exhaustion, the experience of genuine fear was traumatic. You realize that your life could have ended in mere seconds if you had made one wrong move. Once you get back home, if you do, you'll definitely be discussing this with your therapist.

Your feet feel uncomfortably squishy in your Chuck Taylors, learning the hard way that the cloth shoes are definitely not made for running in this kind of weather. The rain is relentless, and you can feel your socks getting soaked through. You hope the powers that be don't bless you with trench foot by the end of this horrifying adventure.

---

You peer through the shattered window of the second floor, noticing the broken glass strewn about the darkened halls of the police station. The only source of illumination is the faint glow of moonlight. It's no surprise that the place looks abandoned. You take a moment to break off the remaining shards of glass, careful not to cut yourself on the sharp edges. With a roll of your jean jacket sleeve, you scrape off the remaining slivers of glass before cautiously sliding yourself through the window. As you land inside, you can't help but be hit by the putrid odor of death. The walls are adorned with blood and the lifeless bodies of the fallen, as if a deranged artist had been given free reign of the building.

You make every effort to remain silent, as the last thing you want is to alert any zombies that might be lurking inside the building.

As you scan the area, your eyes catch sight of wooden planks scattered on the ground, nails jutting out from their undersides. Someone must have tried to use them to barricade the windows, but it didn't seem to have worked out well. The darkness was all-encompassing, making it nearly impossible to see anything, despite your eyes adjusting to the dim environment. You do make out a staircase adjacent to the window, but the idea of ascending to the third floor seems uncertain given your lack of knowledge of the building's layout. You need to think fast and find a weapon.

Onwards then!

Silently navigating through the bloodied and cluttered halls, you cautiously avoid tripping over any obstacles that could give away your presence. Bodies of officers lay scattered on the floor, their once-protective uniforms now torn and blood-stained. Many of them had been infected and turned into zombies, their lifeless eyes staring off into the distance. As you survey the scene, you notice some of the bodies had gunshot wounds, while others had knives still embedded in their chests. It was clear that this area was now zombie-free only because someone had taken the time to exterminate them, but the question lingered in your mind: who could have done it?

After some time, you stumble upon a staircase leading downwards. You contemplate descending to the first floor, hoping to find something of use in the main hall. So far, you've scavenged through numerous bodies, but none of them had any usable firearms. However, you did find plenty of bullets, which could come in handy later on. Another curious detail you noticed was the abundance of red and green herbs scattered throughout the building. It was almost comical how many medicinal plants were growing in a police station, but in this apocalyptic world, you knew their healing properties could make all the difference.

As you searched a corpse, the beam of a flashlight suddenly appeared on the wall in front of you, casting your silhouette in the middle of it. Your heart racing, you froze, realizing someone was behind you. The sound of a gun being cocked only added to your anxiety.

“If you're alive, raise your hands,” a male voice commanded. You obeyed, slowly lifting your arms in the air.

You attempted to make light of the situation, hoping to ease the tension. "Would it count if I said I was dead on the inside?" you chuckled, but the fear still lingered.

You heard a small snort of laughter from the man behind you, which made you think that maybe he wasn't as serious as he seemed. It was a welcomed sound in a tense situation. After a few seconds of silence, he spoke up.

"It's okay, you can turn around. I put away my gun. I'm an officer, well, I was supposed to be."

You noticed a hint of melancholy in his voice, but his tone was also encouraging. Still, you kept your hands up just to be cautious. When you finally turned around, the industrial flashlight shone in your eyes, causing discomfort. You shielded your eyes immediately.

"Ah, damn, sorry!" He scrambled to turn the flashlight away from you.

Despite the dim lighting, you could make out the silhouette of a man in front of you. He towered over you and was clad in a vest adorned with more pockets than you could count, like some sort of real-life action figure. His uniform looked like SWAT gear, vest emblazoned with the letters "RPD" that you assumed stood for the police department. As he drew closer, a musky scent mixed with the unmistakable metallic odor of blood wafted towards you, making you wrinkle your nose. You couldn't help but notice the dried blood and grime splattered across his torso, arms, and even the front of his legs. It was pretty clear that this guy was the one responsible for taking down the zombies that had been lurking around the station.

“My name is Leon, Leon Kennedy. And yours?”

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #re2 remake #re2 #leon x reader #leon x y/n #resident evil #re4 #fluff #re 4 remake #re 4 #hopefully one person will at least read this but most likely i'll still work on it if no one does LMAO #am gonna post this on ao3 too once i get approved for the invite

62 notes · View notes