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carni-val · 3 years ago

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Return to Honeymoon [Will Miller]

pairing: Will Miller x F!Reader

summary: You and Will haven’t had much time to yourselves since your honeymoon, but when he comes home in his uniform, you can’t hold back any longer.

warnings: NSFW [minors DNI], some butt smacking, clothed PIV, unprotected PIV, fingering [f!receiving], dirty talk, thigh-riding, the slightest bits of angst

author’s notes: This is what comes out of imagining Will in his uniform [shoutout to @rayslittlekitten and @kesskirata for helping shape this fic]. Also have not broken my streak of literally everything I write for Will including smut.

Charlie Hunnam Masterlist | Will Miller Masterlist

Will’s view of you had changed dramatically over the last month. He assumed after all the wedding and honeymoon excitement died down, the two of you would just go back to living your lives as normal — waking up and going to bed with each other, coming home to one another after a long day, and going on date nights as usual — but when he’d catch the sight of your ring glimmering in the morning light that streamed in through your window, or felt the cool metal press against his cheek whenever you’d cup it, the confirmation that you were really his wife still stunned him.

Whenever the guys asked him to go out for a drink after work, he would tell them, sorry guys, I’ve got plans with my girlfri- wife. The title still took some getting used to.

Untangling from one another at the end of your honeymoon was hard, and Will found his days dragging on whenever he had to be away from you. It was almost like when you were first dating — he would wonder what you were up to, and what the two of you would get up to when he got home. Would you wanna watch a movie with him when he came home? Or would you be too exhausted from work and call it an early night?

If you were too tired to watch a movie, he’d hope that you didn’t exhaust yourself even more by making dinner.

Will would long to settle his aching body against your warm one whenever exhaustion from whatever strenuous task he was in the midst of completing was beginning to take its toll on him. Will would count down the hours until he could collapse into bed beside you and feel the way you'd burrow into him before you let sleep overtake you.

On days like today, Will wondered if the two of you had strayed too far from one another. He felt this constant nagging in the back of his mind that things would only go downhill from here.

He’d seen what happened with Tom and Molly. He was away too much for work which led to arguments, each one bigger than the last, and the way Tom flirted around with other women when they’d go out to bars contributed to the abominable force that ultimately led to their divorce.

It would kill Will if that ever happened to you two.

The two of you didn’t argue much at all. For the most part, you and Will saw eye-to-eye on a lot of things, but he never wanted his strenuous work to ever come between you two the way it did with Tom and Molly. Tom put on a brave front, but Will knew he was crushed.

Will tried to rid himself of those thoughts as he walked up the few steps leading to the front door of the house. He loved you too much to ever let things stay unresolved between the two of you, plus he only ever had eyes for you the second he saw you. He just hoped the feeling would remain mutual on your end in the event that he was deployed for a long period of time.

Once he unlocked the door and entered the house, Will could hear music coming from the kitchen a few feet away. You sang along to the song in your usual goofy nature, and it made Will smile. Your carefree attitude and ability to laugh at yourself balanced him out, and even taught him a thing or two.

After taking off his shoes at the front door and lining them up neatly, he made his way over to the kitchen, laying his jacket on the arm of the couch as he passed by.

Your back was to Will as you swayed to the music and bopped your head along with the beat. The smell of chicken coming from the oven wafted over to Will, enticing him even further into the room, and upon his steps, you looked over your shoulder to find him there. The twist in your body revealed the mashed potatoes you just finished plating.

You were too good for him.

Will didn’t know how you mustered up the energy to make these delicious meals after working all day. Before he met you, he was used to meal prepping so all he had to do was pop his food in the microwave after work, but you insisted a freshly cooked meal was always better to come home to.

Will still did his fair share of the work around the house — washing the dishes, taking out the trash, and cleaning on weekends when the house really needed it — but some days he was just too exhausted, especially lately with all of the physical training he’d been doing. The last few weeks after dinner, he’d be splayed out on the couch with aching muscles as he reluctantly asked if it’d be okay if he skipped out on doing the dishes and taking out the trash. He would if he could, but his muscles were overworked and he longed for as much rest as he could get before he had to go back in and do the same thing all over again the next day.

With a gentle caress against his cheek, you nodded — sometimes you even drew him a bath with salts that promised to ease the tension in his body away.

You were too good for him.

Your singing came to a halt when your eyes met his, and your gaze travelled down his body before meeting his eye again. “Welcome home,” you smiled suggestively at him.

“Thank you.” A smirk tugging on his lips as he took you in just the same.

You were wearing a t-shirt of his and your hair was down, out of the tight bun you’d put it in when you had important meetings at work. It was a simple look, but one that had Will’s mind racing with a multitude of thoughts.

You stepped closer to him and Will fulfilled his desire to hold you in his arms. The muscles there were tender, but he’d felt better today than he had in a while. He felt your warm palms press against his chest and he caught the glimmer of your ring in the light. He brought up his left hand, letting his own ring get acquainted with the sun, before grasping your hand and bringing it to his lips. He watched a smile stretch across your face after he released your hand.

“I like this look,” you admitted, scanning over him once again.

Will followed your gaze as he let out a chuckle. Usually, he would change out of his uniform before coming home, but he couldn’t stand to be there a second longer, even if it was to change. It was just his uniform — an olive green t-shirt and army fatigue pants. If anything, he couldn’t wait to get out of these clothes.

You on the other hand noticed the way his biceps curved out just enough to strain against the sleeve of his t-shirt, and the way his muscled build stretched his shirt across his chest. His pants hugged his hips perfectly and were just baggy enough to accommodate his growing physique. There was something so enticing about a man in uniform, especially when that man was your husband.

It was a different side to Will — one you only ever got glimpses of when you were watching closely enough. His meticulous, focused nature when given a task; his observant nature, not just with his surroundings, but with the people around him; and his determination to get any job given to him done exceptionally well.

“My military man,” you mused, beaming up at him.

He felt the tug of his necklace against the back of his neck when you hooked a finger around it, the dog tags hanging from it clinking against each other, as you pulled him down for a kiss that lingered just a second too long to be chaste.

When he opened his eyes, he met your gaze that seemed to hold the slightest dark edge to it.

Will cupped your cheek as he scanned your form again, “You know I’m a fan of this look,” he nodded towards his shirt that you were wearing as his other hand caressed the bare skin of your thigh.

“I wore it just for you,” you quipped and all too soon, your warmth was gone as you returned to the oven.

Will watched as you slid on some oven mitts before opening up the oven. You bent down and Will craned his neck, trying to get a quick peek underneath the hem of the shirt you were wearing. All too quickly, you stood up and placed the pot holding the chicken on the stove.

“What’s the occasion?” he asked.

“It’s the weekend,” you shrugged, playing along. You glanced over your shoulder at him, giving him a sympathetic look, “And it’s been a long week for the both of us.”

The huff of what Will assumed was supposed to be a laugh struck him in the heart as you turned back to the chicken. Suddenly, guilt came flooding in all at once as he remembered each time he asked if you could take care of the dishes and trash after you’d gotten dinner ready. Of course you were tired, you worked just like he did, and although it wasn’t physical labour, he was sure you wanted to relax once you got home just as much as he did.

When Will saw you gathering a couple of plates to begin setting the table, he stepped in and took them from your hands. “Why don’t you go rest on the couch, I got it from here,” he offered, beginning to set the plates down on the dinner table.

“You don’t have to do that, babe,” you told him softly, turning to get the cutlery from the drawer behind you. “It’ll only take me a minute,” you turned around with forks and knives in your hand.

“Exactly,” he countered, taking the utensils from your hand. “I know you don’t take a break in between work and getting dinner ready, so go wash up and it’ll all be ready when you come down,” he promised, flashing you a quick smile.

Reluctantly, you agreed and made your way to the bathroom. When you returned, as promised, the table was all set up and you and Will proceeded to eat dinner. Over the course of the meal, the two of you caught up with each other — learning about the other’s day and discussing a potential night to go out for a date.

However, Will found it hard to focus as his eyes kept falling to the shirt you were wearing. Maybe it was some sort of conditioning that took place; he only ever saw you in his shirts after the two of you had sex. In the midst of it all, his shirt would get tossed to the ground at some point, but you’d collect it and put it on in the end before falling asleep next to him.

Your kiss swollen lips, lusty eyes, and messy hair flashed in his mind when he remembered the way he teased you about stealing his shirts; the coy grin on your face as you told him, I never get to do this, so let me have this moment.

Will was very particular about his clothes, taking care as he ironed out his shirts so they’d be ready for work the next day. It was a big part of being in the service — looking presentable — and you always respected that by never searching through his closet and taking anything from there just to lounge in, in case he might need it.

However, seeing you like this now, he found himself hoping you’d do it more.

He should put a pile of shirts on the side just for your keeping.

Your eyes wandered just as much as Will’s did, taking in the way his t-shirt and the flash of his camouflage pants complimented his skin tone perfectly. His golden, cropped hair made his blue eyes stand out and they almost shone as brightly as his dog tags in the sunlight. He was a proper G.I. Joe with a soft side that only you got to see. His wedding band wrapped around his finger completed the look in the most intimate way. He wasn’t just some guy you could only admire from afar — as you’d spend so much of your life doing — he was your husband and he looked damn good in his uniform.

Warm water ran from the tap in the kitchen as you began to move all the dirty dishes from the table into the sink once you and Will finished eating. As they soaked in there, you wiped down the table before centring the vase of roses Will had bought you a few days ago.

The smile they brought to your face quickly fell when you turned and saw Will washing the dishes.

“Babe, go lie down, I can take care of this,” you told him, putting a hand on his broad shoulder, massaging the muscle slightly and noticing how tense it was.

“No, no, I can handle this, you go relax on the couch. I’ll meet you there,” he sent you a quick smile before he rinsed out the soap from a mug he was washing.

You looked down to the sink, watching drops of water race down his tattooed forearms and run over each protruding vein. The sight of his tattoos never failed to turn you on, it added an edge to his G.I. Joe look, making him uniquely Will, although when you first met him, you never thought he’d be one for getting them.

You remember seeing them for the first time one night in the summer when he showed up to your doorstep dressed in a t-shirt and jeans, ready to take you out for one of your first dates together. The whole night, your gaze lingered on them and your mind kept straying to activities you planned to partake in on future dates.

Your hand curled around his bicep, tugging on it slightly, “Come on,” you chuckled.

Will laughed along as well. “I’m almost done,” he promised, “Now, go to the living room,” he raised his hand and flicked a few drops of water to the front of your shirt.

You gasped playfully before letting out a laugh and dipping your own hand under the stream of water.

“Don’t you dare!” Will warned playfully before you splashing some water in his face.

You heard him laugh along with you as he wiped his face with his arm.

“What are you gonna do about it, Lieutenant?” you challenged with a playful quirk of your brow as you began to take a step back.

However, Will’s arm was quick as it grasped onto your waist and held you in place. Your laughs multiplied and echoed throughout the house as you watched Will raise the mug he was washing and dump some of the water from it down the front of the shirt you were wearing.

“Oh my God!” you squirmed in his hold as Will’s bellowing laughter echoed throughout the house.

You pushed at his chest, an undeniable smile stretching over your face as you tried to get out of his hold while the warm stream of water trailed down past the valley of your breasts, down your stomach, and trickled down the inside of your leg.

“You’re in so much trouble now!” you threatened, despite the smile stretched out across your face.

“Am I?” he smirked, effortlessly holding you in place with one arm as you squirmed, “Because I think I’ve got the upper hand here, honey.”

Will gave you a little more time to try and escape his hold, but when you were unsuccessful, he set the mug down, turned the tap off and hoisted you up over his shoulder, causing you to yelp out in surprise.

“This isn’t fair!” you punctuated the last word with a quick slap to his ass.

“Maybe you should pick on someone your own size,” he teased before trailing his hand under the shirt and slapping your ass in retaliation.

The gasp that left your lips escaped before you could stop it and you tried to ignore the tingling sensation in your core at the action as Will began to walk you over to the couch. “Your ass looks great in these pants,” you commented just as he entered the living room.

“Alright-“ he shook his head with an amused smirk. He hoisted you into his arms before lying you down on the couch.

From where he stood, he caught the sight of your panties poking through from between your legs as the shirt you were wearing hiked up a little higher on your thighs. He longed to bury his face in the space there and make you writhe beneath him.

All six foot something of Will towered over you as his eyes locked on the sight of your panties being exposed by your position. Catching sight of the tent forming in his pants, you spread your legs some more, begging him to fill the all too empty space. A silent invitation just for him.

When you felt your foot hit something on the arm of the couch, your eyes fell to it, recognizing it as Will’s matching jacket that completed his uniform. A thought flashed across your mind and had you biting your lip.

Will was always particular about his clothes, but maybe this time, he’d make an exception.

When you looked back at him, he was watching you intently, wondering what you were thinking. You held his eye as you climbed onto your knees on the couch, just a few inches from him. Even with you propped up on the couch, he was still taller than you and looking down at you in reserved anticipation.

You leaned in, pressing a kiss to his soft lips which he returned instantly. He cupped an eager hand behind your head but you pulled away before he could get too lost in the kiss.

“I really like you in your uniform,” you whispered to him, letting your hand trail down his muscled torso before it landed over his hardening cock.

His eyes became half-lidded as you palmed him slowly, and his mouth fell open slightly as his chest began to heave. He tried to regain control of his breathing, but the occasional squeeze you delivered broke his composure every time he thought he had it back. Having him fall apart under your touch, even the slightest bit that he was now, was a rewarding feeling. Will was very good at maintaining his pokerface, but throughout the years, you learned how to crack it.

A smirk stretched out across his face, mirroring yours, “I think I need to put aside a few t-shirts for you to wear,” he pressed a quick kiss to your lips as his hand trailed up and between your legs. He heard your quiet gasp as he applied pressure to your clit and bared the weight of your hand latching onto his shoulder to regain your balance. He wrapped a protective arm around you, keeping you upright.

“Wanna see you like this every time I come home,” his voice was lower now and he let his teeth graze against your chin before trailing kisses down the side of your neck.

His strong arm kept you in place as he tightened the circles he was delivering to your clit. Your teeth found your bottom lip again after a breath was punched out of you at the increase in pressure. Once again, that thought was popping into your head.

“I think you might like me better in something else,” you panted.

Will pulled out of your neck and quirked a curious brow up at you. “And what’s that?” his lips begin to curve up into a devious smile.

It was contagious and a fresh desire coursed through you.

He had no idea what you had planned.

But you hoped he liked it.

You weaved your arms between the two of you so you could pull off the shirt you were wearing. Will’s hands left your body, and your nearly naked form was before him, the trail of water left behind on your skin glistening under the light of the living room. He felt the strong urge to lap it all up with his tongue — to lick you clean — course through him and send a throbbing pleasure right to his cock.

However, before he could take any action, you turned towards the arm of the couch where his jacket lay. You reached out a cautious hand, eyes flickering to him hesitantly and you watched as realization washed over his face before his eyes grew considerably darker.

The fun and games were over now. Now, this was serious.

Your fingers curled around the jacket, unravelling it from the way it was folded before draping it over your almost naked body.

You were practically swimming in it and the ends of your fingers were just barely poking out from the sleeves, but it gave you the same feeling Will did when he held you: protected. Your chest was covered now, but your panties were still visible through the opening of the jacket, leaving much to be desired on his end.

Will’s dark eyes were locked on your form and he stayed silent as he took you in. You would’ve thought he didn’t like it if you couldn’t see his cock straining against his pants.

“Is this okay, Lieutenant?” you batted your eyes at him.

His eyes finally met yours and you watched as a smile stretched out across his face. He shook his head as he took you in his arms again. “You are gonna be the death of me.”

“That’s the plan,” you quipped, hooking a finger through the chain holding his dog tags to pull him in for a kiss.

Desperation flooded you when Will’s tongue pushed past your lips. Your arms hooked around his neck as you indulged in the feeling of kissing your husband — a feeling that never seemed to get old.

Will broke the kiss as he sat himself down on the couch before maneuvering your legs to straddle his lap before wrapping an arm around your waist to bring your back against his chest. His other hand grasped onto your chin and turned your head to meet his. You felt the hand around your waist snake under the jacket and press against your bare skin. That action alone was enough to make your skin break out in goosebumps and have you sighing against his lips.

The few weeks that the two of you had gone without sleeping together, left you feeling as horny as a teenager, and it would’ve been embarrassing if you couldn’t feel Will’s hard member pressed up against your thigh.

His mouth pressed to yours again, your tongues becoming acquainted quickly. You absentmindedly kissed him back, letting him take the lead, as you were enraptured by his hand’s movement beneath the jacket and along your bare skin.

The same hands that knew how to fire guns and land devastating punches were currently trailing up between the valley of your breasts with a feather light touch that left you quivering in the wake of the contact. Your mewling whimper into Will’s mouth told him you had enough of this teasing and desperately needed him to touch you in any way that would relieve the ache you felt between your legs.

He took pity on you, letting his large hand grasp onto your breast and knead it causing your mouth to fall open and let out a shaky breath. Your head fell back against his shoulder, your lips meeting his neck as you pressed kisses lazily against the skin, and let your tongue lick a trail up as far as it could reach.

His movements became finer, using two fingers now to toy with your sensitive nipple. Your breathy moans were right next to his ear and Will was painfully aware of the strain against his cock from his pants, but he wasn’t done with you in this position just yet.

He let his hand glide down the expanse of your torso before burrowing underneath your panties and swiping a finger through your wet folds. The sheer amount of arousal dripping from you already made Will’s head dizzy.

At the simple sensation, you burrowed further into Will, quickly growing impatient for him. His finger moved up to your clit, circling around the bundle of nerves and after you let out a careless moan, he felt your body relax into him just a little more at the slight relief he was providing you.

“You’ve been aching for me, haven’t you?” he whispered into your ear as his finger moved lower and circled your dripping hole.

You nodded frantically against him, humming out a confirmation.

“Can’t wait to bury myself in your pretty pussy,” he confessed, pulling his hand away from you to guide your hand to the tent forming in his pants.

Will’s breath hitched as he felt your hand palming him before he bought his hand back to you, coating his finger in your arousal before he couldn’t take it any longer and slid it inside you.

His name left your mouth in a choked out breath and he wasted no time curling his finger against your walls. The repeated motion sent your hips rocking against his hand, desperate for your release. When Will slipped another finger in, you were pressing your hot mouth against his, your moans muffled against his lips but he took it in stride, determined to make you feel as good as you possibly could. With his hand still firmly on your jaw, he kept you in place, letting you relax as he did all the work.

He wanted to let you come undone like this, he knew you were desperate for it, which made it so much harder to pull his fingers from you.

You whined at the loss and Will pressed a kiss to the side of your head, shushing you sweetly before helping you turn around to face him.

Once you were facing him, he was gentle as he moved the jacket down your shoulders just enough to expose your chest to him. He leaned forward, pressing his lips to your collarbone while your hands grasped onto his shoulders. His tongue and teeth made an occasional appearance as he moved his lips down towards your nipple.

His hands held onto your hips and pulled them down, letting your core meet his thigh. The contact made your hips buck, but under Will’s hold they didn’t go very far. He kept you close — rocking your hips against his thigh before feeling your hands tense up as your head fell back in pleasure.

“Use me to get off,” he instructed, “I want you to make yourself cum like this.” Without another word, he let his lips attach to your nipple and stopped moving your hips.

He felt your hand run up the back of his head, his cropped hair being rustled beneath your touch as you kept him close to his chest.

Slowly, you began rocking your hips against his thigh and once you adjusted to the feeling, you sped up your motions. Your moans echoed throughout the house and Will listened intently as he switched his mouth over to your other nipple.

With each rock of your hips and each moan you let out, Will could tell the week’s tensions were melting away from you and he only wished the two of you could’ve gotten down to this sooner.

He let one hand curve up your spine as he felt your weight tipping towards him, trying to angle your hips just right. He pulled his mouth away and brought your upper half into his arms as your movements were now frantic. He flexed his thigh and you eagerly savoured the feeling his now tensed muscle rubbing up against you perfectly.

“Keep doing that,” you pleaded, working your hips even faster as you felt your climax approaching rapidly.

“You gonna cum for me, darlin’?” his voice was low in your ear and you nodded, unable to let out anything other than moans of his name at this point.

Will was almost as desperate as you were for you to come undone. It had been too long since he’d heard his name leave your mouth the way it was now and he knew how much you needed this. He always wanted to be the best husband he could be for you and he decided he’d spend the weekend making up for his absence these past few weeks.

He laid a quick smack to your ass before his hands found your hips again and began moving them for you. “That’s it,” he praised as your face burrowed further into his neck, muffling your sudden onslaught of moans. Your arms wound around his neck and he bared your weight effortlessly. “I just want you to focus on how good it feels. Let me take care of the rest.”

The way your back arched into him and your head flew back as your orgasm ripped through you had Will admiring you like you were the eighth wonder of the world — enough to rival every other one that existed. There was never a moment after seeing you for the first time that he saw you any differently. You were a sight to behold and you were all his, for the rest of his life.

When you collapsed on top of him again, he pressed kisses along the bare skin of your neck and shoulder, praising you and rubbing your back as he helped you come down from your high. Your whole body was slack against his as you panted, a few moans escaping during the aftershocks of it all. He was patient and attentive as you came to and when he felt your lips trailing up his neck, he pulled back, wanting to see your face. As he expected, your eyes were devastatingly lust-blown and your lips were swollen as you smiled at him lazily.

Will smiled back up at you, taking in exactly just how beautiful you were before you leaned down and kissed him deeply. Your muttered I love yous against his lips made his heart stutter deep within his chest.

“I love you so much, honey,” he whispered against your lips.

He pulled away from the kiss, stroking your cheek before his hands fell to the jacket that was still hooked around your arms. He pulled it off of you gently and you let him as he told you to lie down.

You obeyed, carefully laying back against the couch behind you while Will tossed the jacket aside. Bruises began to form along your collarbone from his nips and sucking there, and it lit the possessive fire underneath him. Just another way to show everyone how you belonged to him. Maybe that’s why he loved seeing your wedding ring on your hand so much.

Your hand reached out and a finger pressed against his thigh as he was beginning to lean down on top of you. He looked down, noticing the wet patch you’d left behind on his pants, the greens in the fabric turning darker because of it. The sight made him smirk as he looked up at you again. The gleam in your eye told him you loved the sight of the stain.

“Sorry,” you apologized half-heartedly.

“Don’t be,” he shook his head before pressing a hand into the couch next to your head to hover above you.

This week had taken a lot out of you and you found yourself missing Will every single second you were away from him. A photo from your honeymoon that sat on your desk only encouraged your mind to wander off to those days and nights you spent making love to each other as husband and wife — all over your hotel room, and even a couple times on the beach when you’d had a few drinks in you. You found yourself wishing you could go back in time to your honeymoon — just for one day.

This moment here seemed to be just the beginning of your wish coming true.

You turned your head towards his arm, pressing kisses along the tattoo before looking back at him. When you caught his other hand trying to pull his shirt out of where it was tucked into his pants, you stopped him from taking it off any further.

“Don’t take it off,” you told him, wrapping your legs around his waist. “Don’t take anything off, just fuck me,” your hands were hasty as they began to undo his pants.

Amusement shone in Will’s eyes momentarily as he released his shirt and let his forearm fall beside your head on the couch as he let you take what you needed from him. He hadn’t seen you this needy in a long time, but it had been a while since the two of you had enough time and energy for this.

That niggling of guilt wormed its way back into his chest but before it could consume him, he felt the cool air in the room envelop his aching cock. Your warm hand provided a barrier against the contrasting temperature as you wrapped it around his member, and it wasn’t long until you started pumping at a leisurely pace. He felt his eyes roll back in his head as the pleasure sent his heart into a frenzy. The ache building up in his core was finally finding some relief and he couldn’t fathom the thought of it coming to an end.

His head dropped to your shoulder as breathy groans left his mouth. When his hips began to thrust into your hand, he realized just how needy he was too. He always had an ember of energy even after hours of physical training that could never be satiated, until now.

He felt you plant kisses to his cheek as you moved your panties to the side before dragging his tip through your soaked folds.

His mouth suctioned to your neck, biting, licking, and sucking in various spots as he took in the feeling of your soaked folds coating him. Your moans were melodious in his ear as let him breach your entrance. His hand curled into the cushion of the couch at the feeling of your warm, tight walls finally wrapping around him.

Your legs tightened around his waist, encouraging him to move in deeper and Will took his time letting his hips meet yours, allowing you to feel every inch of him as he entered. He felt your nails biting into his back as he settled himself completely inside of you, the impact cushioned by his t-shirt.

Will pulled back to look at your face to find that tempting look in your eye, the one that asked him to take care of you in the way only he knew how to.

He grabbed his hand in yours, holding you captive beneath him before he pressed a deep kiss to your lips, silently promising to deliver on your request.

At the first few thrusts of his hips, the kiss grew sloppy as your free hand travelled under his shirt and travelled along the muscles there that flexed with each thrust. Your hand rested on his waist as your hips moved up to meet his thrusts.

Breaking away from the kiss, Will propped a hand up against the couch, trying to find some more leverage as he added more force behind his thrusts. The new velocity sent his dog tags swinging in between the two of you — their presence around his neck serving a chilling purpose. You did your best to support him throughout his career, but there was never a day that went by when you worried about when he’d be deployed next, and if he’d come home at the end of it.

If you could keep him here with you forever, you would, because there was nowhere else that could provide the same safety and security that you could.

The dog tags were in mid-swing when you caught them in your hand — forcing your mind away from taking a sharp turn in the midst of this — and used them to anchor Will down toward you. Your lips aimed for a specific spot on his neck that you knew he loved to have you pay attention to. As soon as your mouth attached to the skin there, you felt Will’s head drop to your shoulder as he choked out a curse as his thrusts continued their relentless pace as he nestled into the most sensitive spots inside of you.

“Missed this,” you panted in his ear, tugging on his earlobe with your teeth for a moment, “Missed having you inside me,” you hooked your arms under his and up and around his shoulders.

As Will let more of his weight collapse onto your body, your legs unravelled from around his waist, and you kept them open, giving him as much space as you could to accommodate him and his movements. You welcomed his weight onto you, revelling in it as you were suddenly feeling thankful for all the training he’d done these past few weeks.

His bigger physique created a perfect barrier between you and the rest of the world and his flexing biceps gave way to his dedication at the task at hand; like the good soldier he’d always been, he received this task and was completing it exceptionally.

The sounds leaving your mouth were as needy as they were filthy as Will had more room to pull back and thrust into you even deeper now. Your walls stuttered around him and squeezed him in all the right places. The lewd sounds echoing out in the house gave way to how wet you were and it only spurred Will on even more.

His thrusts were bordering on relentless as he knew the two of you were both barreling towards your orgasms. Your hands clutched onto Will as his movements sent you rocking up and down the couch. You were careless with the way your moans poured out of you as you got closer and closer and you heard the strained curses that left Will’s mouth.

In the blink of an eye, you were hurtling towards your second orgasm, your back arching until your chest was pressed against Will’s. You felt his hand snake between you two and rub against your clit, thrusting you deeper and deeper into pleasure.

You barely caught the way Will groaned out a deep fuck into your shoulder before you felt him still his hips and cum inside you. Choppy puffs of his breath fanned across your neck as you felt him grinding his hips into you a little more before coming to a complete stop.

The rest of his weight collapsed on top of you as the two of you tried to catch your breaths, feeling rejuvenated and satiated all at once. You were full of love and didn’t need anything else as far as you were concerned as long as you had Will.

He raised his head from your shoulder, pressing quick kisses to your lips before letting his heavy head fall to your chest again. Your hand fell to the top of his head, running along his hair as your eyes began to close on you.

The silence that reverberated through the room helped you welcome some much needed rest and you didn’t fight against it as you let your eyes shut.

You didn’t know how long it was until you woke up again but you found yourself in the same position as when you fell asleep. Will’s head was still against your chest but as he was waking up too, he moved it around, pressing a kiss to your bare skin before looking up at you.

“Did we really fall asleep?” he smirked, his voice deep like it always was when he woke up.

“I guess our bodies needed the rest,” you breathed out a laugh.

Will took his time propping himself up on his arms to give you some breathing room, but as he did so you felt something pulling apart from your skin.

You looked down to your chest, noticing the dog tags around his neck were peeling away from where they were pressed into your skin this whole time.

Once they were finally off of you, you noticed they left behind an indent of Will’s name into the skin. You don’t know why, but you couldn’t help but bite back a smile at the sight of it.

When you looked up at Will, he seemed entranced with the sight of his name embedded on your skin. His eyes flickered up to you and you knew exactly what was racing through his mind.

“Okay, but we gotta take this upstairs because my legs can’t stretch open like that anymore,” you compromised, holding your arms up for him to carry you upstairs.

Will was happy to oblige and before you knew it, you were being hauled up the stairs and to your bedroom.

#will miller #will miller imagine #charlie hunnam #charlie hunnam imagine #triple frontier #triple frontier imagine

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zipperzoo · 2 years ago

Text

FIGHT TO MAKE IT UP

The Batman (2022) bruce wayne x f!reader

Word count: - 4.3k

Masterlist / AO3 / Playlist

Themes: Enemies to Lovers, Slow Burn, Crime Family, Thriller, Nior, Heist, Action, Comedy, Crime.

Warning: Description of illegal substances.

Chapter four:

I dance around in my fancy suit, although I am flightless I am rather cute. What am I?

Rivers sat in the security room of Wayne Tower. Munching on some cashews- from a vending machine by the front desk. They were swirling on their chair, going over the footage of the night. Nothing out of the ordinary for the first two hours from what the footage showed and from the reports it seemed to match up.

The room was obviously dark, full of boxes and a wall full of tapes from 1998 to today. The eight screens are all retro, box tv’s with built in VHS tape players took up an entire wall. Next to the main monitor was a small radio blaring music, they bopped their head to the beat as they continued to throw the cashews into their mouth.

On the screens people zoomed in and out of the building but something caught Rivers' eyes. Pausing the fast forward button they leaned in close to the fourth screen that was the CCTV of the reception. There they saw someone rather eye-catching at the front desk. Leaning in closer and squinting to get a better look- there they saw a roughly yellow thing in his hands. A walkie talkie? Rivers recalled a batman themed walkie talkie stashed in a storage cupboard near the elevator to the top of Wayne tower that was now part of evidence.

Jotting down the tape, the time and person of interest rough description, they also sent the screenshot of the footage to print.

While that was printing, the rough scratching noise of the machine pumping out ink onto the paper disturbed the music playing. Rivers paid no mind as they continued to monitor the screens.

On screen two they noticed a bright red car, one reported on the officers who were on the chase with. It matched the description. They took note of how long it remained outside the building.

They paused the video. They saw the man earlier who was at the reception holding an unconscious Bruce Wayne over his shoulder. Looking in the driver's seat, noticing it was empty, he then threw Bruce into the trunk. He looked panicked with his rapid movements and frantic head turns, taking in his surroundings.

Bruce was abducted. They already knew that from the call from security. They received two calls, one from security and one from Alfred. Both were rather odd from what Rivers remembered in the operators' reports but seeing how Bruce Wayne was kidnapped, felt a little unnerving. In the dusk light for everyone to see.

Rivers' recalled seeing a CCTV of an actual abduction in the training videos back at the academy. Some guy put a tea cosy over his victim's head. They laughed aloud at it and that didn't impress the teacher. Who puts a tea cosy over someone's head?

A knock on the door, Rivers spun around to see Gordon at the door. “Hey kid. Found anything?” He just poked his head through a very small gap he made. Rivers’ didn't even notice the sound of the door open or hear the printer finish its job.

“Actually- Quite a lot!” They beamed. “Got a good description on the guy who took Bruce Wayne and then got time matches from the call’s and the visuals of the car.” They pushed their chair across to the printer, grabbing the finished printed screenshot of Sausages talking into the Batman Walkie talkie. Flaunting it in the air to show Gordon.

“That's brilliant.” He clasped his hands together.

Placing the picture onto the desk, Rivers quickly took a look at the screens before returning their attention to Gordon. “How did the talk go with the witness?”

Shifting his weight, Inspecting the dust on the sleeve of his jacket. “He seems fine but what struck me was that he wasn't aware of Bruce Wayne’s disappearance despite reporting to come up to see if he was there. I want you to keep an eye on him while I go visit a friend.”

“What do I do with this info? Send it back to the station?”

“No actually… Give them to me. Stay here and see if you can find anything else you might have missed.”

They paused before responding. “How am I going to stay here and keep an eye on the Butler?” Raising a brow at Gordon.

“You’ll learn to do many things at once at this kind of job, kid.” Flashing a warm smile.

They grumbled in response to Gordon. “Hey what was that evidence found in that storage cupboard again?”

“You mean the walkie talkie?” “Psh- Batman walkie talkie.” They chuckled to themselves. “I caught the suspect on camera eight with it, time was uh-” they turned to look at the screen then spun back around to Gordon. “19:06 to19:11”

Gordon shook his head and let out a breathy laugh. “God dayum batman walkie talkies. We’re hoping forensics would get some prints off it, but matching the database stuff takes some time. Sometimes I think the GCPD’s lack of funding has us stuck in the stone age.”

“It's not all doom or gloom!” They said patting one of the big box tv’s. Causing it to have static run up the screen from the disturbance.

Gordon remained silent, looking at the screen that was the only source of light in the room- then to Rivers whose face remained dark when the light behind them haloed their silhouette. “I’ll get going, kid.” Gordon knocked once onto the door before raising his hand in the air as a gesture of goodbye. Rivers gave a small smile waving in return. Once Gordon left they let out a breath they weren't even aware they were holding in.

Gordon was like a nice and cool dad that hung around but didn't know how to properly talk to their child so he just stood around awkwardly. That or he didn't really know how to handle small talk.

Putting all their attention back on the screens, continuing to eat the cashews from earlier. Flicking through the screens. The tape from screen 5 was finished, as the tape was injected and the screen was static. With a sigh they stood up and swapped the tapes over.

The moment the screen lit up smack bang in the middle was a woman’s face. It scared the shit out of Rivers’, causing them to yelp and crash back in their chair. Struggling to get up, peering over the desk as they sat on the floor watching the footage unfold.

It was Y/N. She was in the process of disconnecting the camera with her face deadener of the screen, distorting her appearance with the fish lens of the camera. After sticking her tongue out with concentration- the screen suddenly went static then black.

Time was 19:34, location was the elevator to the top of Wayne Tower and right next to the storage cupboard where the walkie talkie was found. How did security miss this? This would explain why there was no footage of the trespassers leaving the Wayne residence with the suitcase and the dead body apart from the main entrance footage.

Rivers set to rewind the footage and took a screenshot of Y/N’s face and printed it out. Writing in big bold letters at the bottom of the paper: Second suspect.

^v^

Walking into the tent, Sausages threw his arms up into the air, full of excitement and full of glee. His face held stains of his blood from his attempts to clean it up after the situation from earlier. “Oz!”

“Sit down you big bald fuck.” Penguin snapped back, rubbing around his mouth from his comfy little spot in his luxurious camp set up. brightened by vintage lamps and lanterns. Despite the plan to meet at the circus being rather last minute, he set up pretty well. Made himself at home.

Sausages really did luck out with Cobblepot being at the circus. The phone call was endless yelling for extra time in hopes to crack open the suitcase but maybe showcasing Bruce Wayne in person would actually buy time.

“Okay… I’m not bald…That shit faced kid just ripped a few strands out.” Sausages stepped further in and took a seat opposite Cobblepot. Oz let out a big stomach laugh, finding amusement in Sausages’ complete change in attitude. He walked in with so much enthusiasm and now he was sinking into the cheap chair.

The twins strutted in just after Sausages. Shoving Bruce into the tent as they dragged muddy footprints in. Y/N slowly and cautiously followed behind, The room felt thick, the humidity of the tension that radiated off Oz- it was nauseating. Y/N breathed it in, making it sit in her stomach and churn with anxiety.

“Well would you look at that! Children are good for something.” The Penguin joked, cracking a cheeky smile, showing off his crooked teeth and single golden tooth. Turning to a man, who hid in the far corner curled up into himself. Hiding in the shadow. Penguin saw he wasn't getting any sort of response from him and turned back.

To feel grounded from the dread of what might take place, with the man who held hers and Sausages life in his hands before them. Y/N placed her shaky hands onto Bruce’s shoulder in hope to disguise it as a way to steady him.

Bruce felt her tremble and instantly knew the weight of the situation. Especially from her confession in their little fight.

“We found them rolling around in the mud.” One of the twins laughed, putting the young Grayson down onto the floor. “And this one- was wondering out of his tent and was also rolling around with them,”

“Actually- I only went to get a candy apple, I just came across them on my way back and wanted to help-”

“Have you heard the phrase to be seen and not heard?” snapped Oz scratched his scalp. “I thought I made it clear to your parents that you all stay in the main tent.”

The child tensed, squaring his shoulders. Averting his eyeline away from Cobblepot he noticed a bunch of strange bottles on the table in front of him. Bruce also noticed this. There were a large amount of glasses, some different shapes and sizes. Inside the bottles was a strange gas that had a subtle green-y yellow tint to it. Not too distinct but alarmingly noticeable. Only a cork was keeping the mysterious gas at bay.

Dick didn't really want to fuck around and find out what that was. On the other hand Bruce was actually willing to snatch one up.

Y/N was too busy glaring lasers from her eyes into Cobblepot’s head to notice the bottles or Bruce edge a little closer to the centre of the tent- towards the table.

Shifting and scooting in place, Sausages was quite fidgety from nerves. The plan already went tits up with the guard who was carrying the suitcase being shot, and the suitcase being locked. It was already hard to negotiate more time to figure out a way out of this but now he was face to face with his judge. His grim reaper, the man who held his life in his hands. The man who had loaned him and Y/N money to just survive within Gotham's grasp.

Looking at the guests in his tent, Oz scanned Sausages, taking delight in his shrunken state, looking over at Y/N and her stance- she leered at him. The person next to her caught his attention the most.

“Well would you look at that, you have Bruce Wayne in your posse. How fancy” Dripping in sarcasm. “Y/N, nice to see you again, lovely.” He paused. “What's it that pack of meat calls you again- Princess?” He chuckled, face sucked into his head as he snickered. “Nice to see you again princess.”

“Pleasure.” She spat out, tightening her grip on Bruce’s shoulder, digging her nails into his dirt stained coat.

“Hey Bruce, Been a while since I last saw you- wasn't it at the funeral. The rumour is true then, that crazed idiot on the tv didn't burn you to a crisp.” One of the twins coughed a snicker while everyone remained serious, soaking in the silence. “What do I owe the pleasure of Mr Wayne?”

“We-” grabbing Oz’s attention, Sausages attempted to divert the topic. “I… I thought it was a good idea to grab Bruce Wayne and have him as ransom. You know extra money along with the ahem… The original deal?”

Snapping his line of sight from Bruce to Sausages, Oz pulled a face. “Who are you gonna ransom the boy to? Mummy and daddy?”

Sausages with a glimmer in his eyes puffed up his chest. “Yeah!! Yeah!” Bruce besides Y/N, cringed staring at the floor. Embarrassed for the man. “They’ll be sure to pay a fortune!”

“You fucking idiot. Do you live under a rock?” Penguin laughed, turning around to look at the twins then the man curled up behind him. Mocking Sausages as he guffawed and howled in the tent. Bruce Looked up at Y/N, she looked pained and sad- hurt for Sausages. He- Sausages had tried so hard to get her out of Gotham even taking any job that would pay Oz’s greed. Even if it resulted in humiliating himself.

Bruce took note of that expression that was supposed to be private to her.

Sausages’ face fell as realization hit him like a truck. Full fucking speed. Y/N had said earlier that night “He has no family.” Now it felt like a really stupid idea to have held Bruce at gun point at the auction and then knock him out by accident. It was all fucking useless and a waste of time.

“They died twenty years ago! You know, you're one lousy James Bond.” The penguin’s chest hurt from laughing, slapping it and then wiping a tear. “No wonder little Miss Princess keeps you around. You truly are a source of entertainment.” His eyes darted to her. That fucking pet-name.

“You're going to kick the hornet's nest with Bruce Wayne here.” spoke up a voice that sat out of the light. It even caught Bruce’s attention. Only the outside of what looks like glasses could be spotted from within the void of his silhouette.

“Doctor, I’ll deal with you in a minute.” Oz waved his arm up, to silence his guest. Dick stood up on his tiptoes to peer over to look at the man at the far back of the tent.

“Whatever is going on here, I don't want Mr Wayne involved in my research or our arrangement.” he stood up, allowing the light of the lamps to bathe his figure. He was a lean man, rather scrawny but well put together. Smart and sophisticated.

“Listen, doctor, if you're getting bored and lonely, the twins here can keep you company. They really are great company, aren't you boys?” The twins remained silent just staring down at the man who hid in the far corner of the tent. Bruce squinted to try and get a better look at the doctor. He doesn't recognize a single thing about this ‘doctor’. Who is this man?

Oz had filled in the void- the gaping hole that was left after Falcone's murder and the Riddler's madness in Gotham. A month was just enough time to have something brew behind the iron curtains. At first Bruce thought it was something to do with him and his family which would explain the entire incident at Wayne Tower and the auction but some things just aren't adding up.

Y/N leaned closer to Bruce and whispered into his ear. “Don't Draw attention to yourself.” She paused, nodded slightly towards Penguin. “He is a lot smarter than he looks.” Her breath tickled his ear, causing the hairs on his neck to stand up, goosebumps brushed up his arms. He wasn't expecting that but Bruce did know that Penguin was a lot smarter than he looks. The man was cocky and great at Spanish.

The doctor took a step further into the centre of the tent, brushing past the twins knowing they were his guards for the present time, his guard dogs. Running his long slender fingers through his hair. He revealed a clever smile as words crept out “The whole GCPD will rain down on this whole little operation. I personally don’t want my work to be affected.” He waved his finger towards the bottles on the table lazily.

“Christ the GCPD?” Penguin tipped his head back, slapping his hands on his knees and let out a pained groan. “What a fucking mess you two bring to my door step.” obviously aimed at Sausages and Y/N. “Aight- Do you have the pearls?” He asked, fixing his posture, ready to send the two away. The word captured Bruce’s and Y/N’s attention. “Pearls?” Y/N uttered. Sausages gulped.

Oz’s eyes bounced around Sausages, Y/N and Bruce. “You know, The pearls? The infamous Martha Wayne’s pearls? A pearl necklace? The pearl necklace?” He turned to the twins. “Am I speaking English?” Turning back to his audience. “Español? Perlas?”

Pearls. The word rang through her head. Pearls? What pearls?

The look of confusion on Y/N’s face and the twins made Cobblepot impatient. “The pearls that were supposed to be at a pretty boy's little charity event?” The penguin was getting easily irritated.

Face painted with confusion still, Y/N looked over Bruce, catching Bruce’s expression. Horror. Dick’s rapid head movements to try and catch what was happening- obviously looking discombobulated. He was itching to comment something but the fear of Penguin snapping at him still lingered.

His mother’s pearls. Bruce’s feelings began to snowball; Panic, anxiety, fear and dread all built up in him. Like a bottle overflowing with lava- burning and cracking the bottle, slowly destroying the physical barrier. Bruce was about to erupt- he was going to lose his cool. What was worse? Built up sadness that was engulfing or the rage and hurt that was choking him. Reliving his grief standing there as Oz was waving his hand around waiting for anyone to respond. The doctor watched, enthralled by the shock Bruce was cycling through.

Why was Alfred giving the pearls to the auction? Bruce’s brain was racing. The singular word Pearls triggered him. His heart rate rose as beads of sweat were threatening to run down his perfect face.

The doctor was amused by Bruce’s break of character. Pushing his glasses up his nose to better inspect the subtle betrayal of emotions leak from Bruce’s walls.

“You're telling me, You’ve got me the prince of the city which is impressive but you didn't get exactly what the job entailed. The god dayum pearls in the god dayum suitca-”

“We have the pearls!” Spoke up Y/N. Bruce’s mind ran quiet as she took her hand away, leaving where she held her hand on him to grow violently cold. Her voice ran a shiver up his spine, she suddenly grew confident and took charge as Sausages shrunk further into his stool.

Bruce was yanked out of his panic as his eyes glued onto her.

Now knowing what exactly was in the suitcase this entire time and what she and Sausages was after put a fire under her ass. It was just some lousy Pearls.

“You're bluffing.” Spoke up to the doctor. “Otherwise you’d have them here.”

Sausages shot up from his seat and pointed sharply towards the doctor. Sending the chair to fall backwards behind him crashing into the ground. “Who the fuck is this pleb?” He was growing sick and tired of this weirdo just talking and trying to take charge. This was supposed to be between Cobblepot, Sausages and Y/N. No one else.

With all bark and no bite, the doctor backed up, sinking into the protection of the twins like a snobby spoilt child who finally was facing the consequences of his greed.

Sausages cracked a goofy snicker, turning towards Bruce and Y/N. “This mother fucker is one giant coward look at him!” Facing him again to then have a lamp thrown into his face, toppling him over in a brilliant back flip. Penguin had lobbed it at him. Quieting him and putting him in his place. Which was the floor.

Y/N face palmed as she broke her silence. “Was that necessary?”

Sausages laid there on the floor, curling up into himself as Grayson shuffled by him, kicking him gently in the shoulder. “Hey- you okay?” whispered Dick. Sausages let out a soft whimper as a response while rolling over onto his back. He’ll be fine.

“Sweet heart, want one thrown at you too?” The penguin motioned his hand showing off his wide range of lamps to throw at her. She raised one hand up, signalling that she will be compliant. “So, where's the pearls? Unless they are shoved up Mr Wayne's tight ass- I don’t see it anywhere.”

She cringed, Penguin talking about Bruce Wayne’s backside wasn’t something she had on her bingo list- to be fair a lot of things that happened in the past few hours wasn't on her bingo list. “In my car which is parked on the outskirts of the circus but-”

“Okay princess-”

“Don’t call me that.” She called out with a poisonous after taste in her tone, causing a sharp silence to invade the tent.

Bruce caught her face serious, focused and her stern stare directed at Penguin. Her body language is what stood out to Bruce. Her fists balled up as her shoulders tensed up. From his line of sight he caught Sausage’s mouth open agape while the mysterious doctor hid behind the twins. Cobblepot on the other hand, had his eyes pop out of his head. He quickly laughed it off, treating her reaction as a joke.

“Wow-wow sweetheart, calm down. How about this? You and the twins go get the pearls and bring them back here. Nice and easy.” Penguin knew when to stop poking the tiger that was backed up into the corner of a cage. He even thought his offer was him being generous.

Sausages didn't like the sound of that. He sat up to interrupt to then have the wind be vacuumed out of him. Falling back to the floor in slow motion, everything around him suddenly felt chunky. Suddenly the lights in the tent were just a little bit more vibrant, and colours were pulsing.

He swallowed. The mushrooms had just kicked in.

Completely oblivious to Sausages, Y/N took a minute to organize her thoughts. She can't leave Sausages alone with Cobblepot and she would rather have her nails ripped off her fingers than be alone with the twins. Shifting her position to take a quick look at Bruce. He stood there watching Sausages, who was staring rather intensely at the table in front of him.

All Bruce did was stare, look- stare and watch. It was beginning to creep her out. If he wasn't attractive he would surely be a fucking creep. The halo effect was in full function but she wasn't going to let that win. She fleetingly considered throwing Bruce under the bus to grab Sausages and run.

Following Bruce’s line of sight- turned back and watched Sausages who was watching the bottles on the table in awe. He sat there, like a child watching television- eyes goggled and glassy as his mouth opened slightly. In a trance. Cobblepot wasn't really paying any mind. Assumed this was Sausages’ normal self.

“How does that sound sweetheart?”

Without looking away from Sausages she replies. “Yeah yeah sure- hey Sausages. You okay?”

The gas-like substance in the bottles' movement had captivated him. The way it moved and weaved in the enclosed space. It looked alive- convincing himself that it would taste like lime, tangy lime.

Inching closer towards the glass bottles. There were several- possibly more than twenty all lined up close to one another. “Hey uh- what's in these bottles.”

“None of your business.” The doctor pushed the twins apart, letting him back through. Full alert and protective mode. Bruce picked up on how tense the doctor was acting and geared ready just in case.

“It looks weird, kind of like bottled farts.” Sausages sounded like a child- even looked like a child sitting there. “But maybe like- it could taste like lime fanta?”

The whole room watched Sausages, only one trying to with strain a laugh was the child who was standing by him. Finding it all very amusing of course. This was probably the kids first experience with someone on drugs.

“Is he having a laugh?” commented Cobblepot.

“I think the drugs he took are starting to take effect…” Bruce said.

Sausages reached out to touch one of the bottles, it itched its brain to wonder what it felt like to touch the clouded substances or to taste it, smell it and inhale it.

The doctor vastly caught wind of what was about to happen, horror and dismay took control as he pushed past the twins, leaping forward to stop Sausages to instead land beside the table pushing Sausages back only slightly. Landing beside the table his elbow knocked the table leg, causing the entire table to wobble.

Cobblepot reached his arms out with panic plastered across his ugly face. Springing up onto his feet with alert eyes.

Bruce dragged long steps towards the scene to then be jolted back by Y/N. She pranced towards Sausages, tugging him back with her arms wrapped around his chest. The weight of Sausages caused her to struggle and stumble back.

Despite everything, all of the bottles on the table were knocked over, scattering the floor with glass shards. The mysterious gas was free and was vastly filling up the space. It all happened in slow motion- the tense panic and build up and the release. Everyone in the tent was murmurous as the inaudible uneasiness grew heavy.

They’ll soon learn why the gas was enclosed in those bottles and why it should have stayed that way.

#The Batman #Robert Pattinson #Battinson #batman x reader #Battinson x reader #fanfiction #battinson x reader #bruce wayne x reader #DC #The Batman 2022 fanfiction

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egg-on-the-run · 4 years ago

Text

Massage

The turtle's s/o is exhausted, they help make things better with a massage.

(she/her pronouns used)

Leonardo

She's already asleep in his bed when he comes home from patrol. Usually she waits for him on the couch, even when she was tired, but Splinter had specifically told him she was already asleep, warned him to do his best not to wake her up.

She must be exhausted.

He tiptoes in as quietly as he could after his shower, spots her lying flat on his bed: not tucked in, just lying atop his blankets on her stomach. She had been too tired to lift the sheets.

He can see how tense she is, can see the way how even in her sleep her shoulders still rise to her ears, how her finger twitches with an anxious need to keep moving. Her face scrunched up slightly, adorable, but he would rather it be relaxed and soft.

He's careful and slow moving her onto the bed properly, still not setting her under the covers just yet. He's even more careful when he straddles her legs, keeps his weight off them almost entirely. His hands start at her lower back, kneading into her very softly.

She jolts and eyes snap open, "What are you doing?"

"I uh, I was giving you a massage, you look tense, even in your sleep."

"Oh," She relaxes, "You're an angel, just scared me a little." Her head hits the pillow again, already drifting off.

He tries once more, hands softly pressing into her lower back. She lets out a breath of air, sinking further into the mattress. He continues, travelling further up her spine. Usually he hates the sound of bones cracking (all of his brothers teased him constantly about it), but tonight he was quite happy to hear little pops coming from her spine. He especially didn't mind when she gave a little moan afterwards.

His hands travel further up towards her shoulders, kneading and rolling his wrists into the dozens of knots in her back. Her shoulders were so tense that she whined whenever he was too rough. He had to be gentle, working them out slowly.

By the time he was finished, she was sleepily trying to reach his hand with her eyes closed.

"Cuddle me," She mumbled as she found his hand, "Pretty please? I've got tomorrow off."

"Of course," He replied, moving to help her under the sheets, "That was the plan anyway."

He pulled her tight against his chest, hearing her bones crack once more as she melted like putty in his hands. He kissed her forehead.

"Thank god you've got tomorrow off, I'll let you sleep in as long as you want." He sighed, relaxing himself, "I'll make sure the lair is quiet."

She didn't hear a word of what he said, she was already fast asleep.

Raphael

Raphael was the king of tension. He wasn't like Michelangelo where little bothered him, or like Donatello who had those random self care days, or even like Leonardo who learned to de-stress through meditation. Oh no, Raphael carried tension like a mother with a clingy child: pulling on his shoulders, weighing him down and making him irritated.

It came with the whole anger thing.

So there have been countless times where she has used her knuckles to work the knots out of his shoulders. It was no easy task, especially when she had to use most of her body weight to actually get through each and every knot.

But she'd do it a hundred times more if he needed her to, and Raphael knew that, knew it all to well.

So when he sees her already grumbling to herself at the latest email that just came through to her laptop, when he see her shoulders rising to her ears in frustration and hands balling into fists, he knew he had to do the same thing for her as she had done countless times for him.

She jumps when he first puts his hands on her shoulders, but recognises the warm touch shortly after.

"What are you doing?" She asked, one hand reaching up to rest on top of his, she kept her attention glued to her screen, "I have a lot of work to do, Raphie."

"I know," He said, beginning to knead into her shoulders, "Just a massage, you look stressed."

"Oh with that lovely email, I am more than stressed."

She's always had a sharp tongue, never directed it to him (never intentionally) but he knows her patience is wearing thin and work certainly wasn't helping. He thought about taking his hands away entirely, not wanting to pester her; but she ran her thumb across his hand, typed with only one set of fingers, and Raphael remembered how often she did this for him when his patience was thinner than a piece of paper.

He pressed his hands into her shoulders again, watched as her head leaned back and body moved with his hands. He knew the feeling, when the knots were so tight they just hurt. He continued to work his hands into her shoulders, and slowly it seemed to stop hurting and the tension started to melt away. She closed her eyes, pushed her laptop away from her and just let herself be for a moment.

"Those big ol' hands of yours," She said, voice more like a breath, "So gentle with me."

"Not like you, using your damn elbows to get the knots out."

"But does it work?" She laughed.

He chuckled, "Of course it works, you're the best at this."

"Oh I dunno, you might give me a run for my money, this feels like heaven right now." Her head rolled to the side, turning slightly to kiss his hand, "Take me to bed Raphie, please."

With one final squeeze he let go, moving his arms to wrap around her waist and carry her to bed. Work wasn't important, this was.

Donatello

The lair was far too noisy, Donatello's lab was far too bright. Everything was just too much, all at once. Even as she sat on his desk, the reflection of his computer in his glasses from behind her was glaring into her eyes. He sat between her legs, arms around her waist and rambling about — god, she didn't even know at this point. She'd spaced out long ago, too overwhelmed to even try and catch up.

He moved his head at he spoke, Donatello was always an expressive fellow, and the light bounced off his glasses right into her eyes. She squinted, scrunched her entire face up and groaned.

"You have a migraine," He said plainly, "I have some painkillers in my drawer—"

"I took some earlier, they just haven't kicked in yet." She frowned.

She looked in pain, Donatello hated to see her like this, hated when there wasn't anything he could do.

He reached up and cupped her face, "Have you had enough water today?"

"Yeah," She mumbled, "Been using that new water bottle I got."

"When did you last eat?"

"Went out for dinner with some coworkers."

Donnie hummed, not knowing what else could cause her such a migraine. They usually had a reason behind them, she didn't usually just get them randomly. He wondered if she'd be on her phone too much, not to sound like Splinter, but she's been talking to him for the past hour or so, her eyes should have rested by now.

She pushed her cheek into his hand, letting his hand squish the chub on her face. Donatello squeezed gently, rubbing her cheeks in a circular motion.

"What are you doing?" She asked, voice muffled by his hands.

"Massaging your face," He replied, moving to knead her cheekbones with his thumbs, "Maybe it's tension that's brought this on."

"Maybe..."

He moved his thumbs over the bridge of her nose and followed the shape of her eyebrows, he repeated the action a few times before gently rubbing her temples.

"You're really good at this..." She murmured, eyes closed and jaw slack. Her face was no long scrunched up, but instead so completely relaxed she looked as though she was already asleep. Donatello persisted, using his thumbs to move the tension away from her face. His hands moved to her hair, grasping tightly and then releasing, he tickled his fingers through her locks: slowly so as not to pull on any tangles.

By the time he'd moved back to her jaw, he was pretty sure she'd fallen asleep where she sat. He smiled softly at her, kissed her forehead, and carried her off to bed.

He needed an early night as well.

Michelangelo

She had been on her feet all day, running errands for a coworker who had recently hurt their leg. Said coworker was fine, and would be perfectly capable of putting of such errands until their leg was better (really, Mikey huffed, using his girlfriend like a servant). But she could never just say no, and even after she'd ran around the city collecting bits and bops, dropping off items and buying groceries, her coworker hadn't even offered her so much as a sit down before he not-so-subtly led her out of his apartment.

So she came stumbling to the lair, exhausted and drained beyond compare and ready to collapse but still so eager to see her darling Mikey. He was in the shower when she arrived, she knew because Raphael told her, and because she could hear his singing before she'd even arrived.

She dragged herself to his bed, kicking her shoes off and not even caring where she left them. She collapsed to her knees before she could crawl under the blankets, lying surprisingly comfortably on the floor.

"Hey, hey angel! What are you doing down here?" Mikey's cheerful voice woke her up, along with a little shake of her shoulder. "We snoozing on the floor now?"

"So tired..." She mumbled, eyes fluttering closed, "Carry me to bed."

"No problem, the whole five feet distance it is." Mikey chuckled. He picked her up, sliding her onto his bed, careful not to bump her head on Raphael's top bunk. "All those errands huh? Guy owes you a thanks at least."

"Jackass kicked me out before I could even sit down at his place," She glared at the mattress above her, "So rude."

"Uh, totes rude? My girl did all that for him and he doesn't even let you sit down? Jackass is a very nice way to describe him." Mikey smiled at her, "Your poor little feet must be sore after all that running around."

"I think my ankles are swollen."

"Just a little." He teased, moving to sit between her legs. He took one of her legs and squeezed firmly along her calves. His hands slid down to her ankles and he frowned: they were slightly swollen, he had only been joking but turns out he was right. He rolled her ankle for her, moved her foot so that it pointed and then helped stretch her heel. He squeezed her calf one more time before moving on to her other leg.

"You're so sweet," She babbled, "Thank you for taking care of me."

"No problem babe, somebody has to," He laughed, "And it's not hard work."

She smiled at him, eyes struggling to stay open. He smiled back at her, not that she could see him, and softly told her to go to sleep; he'd take care of her.

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dream-a-little-bigger-x · 4 years ago

Text

Quarantine Lovers | Charlie Gillespie

Requested by anon: Can we have a Charlie x reader where she is his secret quarantine partner and the cast keeps guessing who it is until Maddie names a famous writer and gets it right? Thanks!

Pairing: Charlie Gillespie x Female!Reader

Warnings: fluff

A/N: I’m not sure if this is what you wanted but i kinda like it haha

Charlie has always been secretive about his private life. It’s always been his one thing he promised himself. Work life and private life needs to be separate. Especially in the industry he’s in now. You and Charlie have been together for a couple of months now and nobody knows. It all started when he’d finished filming Julie and The Phantoms and came back to Dieppe from Vancouver. He went for a hike with one of his brothers when they found you sitting on a rock, clutching your ankle.

“Hey, are you okay?” his voice made you look up. You offered him a polite smile, trying not to show your pain or the fact you were thinking ‘Holy crap, attractive”. “Yeah, just threw my ankle a little bit on the rocks over there,” you pointed to a few feet behind the boys. “Was waiting for it to blow over and I could go on, but I’ve been sat here for…” you checked your watch, “About half an hour.” You chuckled at your own pathetic behavior. “I used to be really good at these hikes, you know?” Charlie then chuckled too, mostly at how endearing you were.

“Can you stand on it a little bit if we support you?” Patrick, Charlie’s brother, asked then.

“I’m not sure…” The two guys walked up to you, each taking a hand of yours to pull you up, and then wrapping one arm around your waist. You could go like that for about a kilometer until your foot began to throb again. “Can we take a break?” you squeak. Charlie and Patrick placed you onto a tree trunk very gingerly and took a seat next to you.

“Are you from around here?” Charlie then asked.

“Yeah, I live in Moncton with my best friend,” you replied with a smile, glad he’s distracting you from the pain in your ankle.

“No way! We live in Dieppe!” The excitement on his face was the most adorable thing you’d ever seen. Your eyes and smile widen at this, not necessarily at the fact he lives kind of close, but at the excitement on his face.

“Cool! I have family in Dieppe, so I know my way around there,” you told them. Charlie and Patrick nodded their heads at this, not entirely sure what else to say to this stranger they just picked up from a rock in the middle of nowhere.

“So, what’s your name?” Charlie then asked upon reminding himself of this fact. “Y/N Y/L/N,” you replied.

“Charlie Gillespie, and this is my brother, Patrick,” he introduced himself and his brother, who gave you a little wave. The wind suddenly picked up, and you knew exactly what that meant.

“It’s going to rain soon. We better get going.” Charlie and Patrick nodded their heads agreeingly and helped you up from the trunk.

“Get on my back,” Charlie then suggested. “It’s going to go quicker than you hopping along with us.” You hesitated for a few seconds, but then decided you agreed with him. Patrick helped you jump on Charlie’s back, and the three of you continued your walk down the trail, chatting about your lives the whole way down.

You found out Charlie was an actor and had just finished filming about a month ago, and you told him you were a screenwriter. Your most recent work was on Outer Banks and Season two of Umbrella Academy. You talked about your hopes and dreams and agreed the industry you both were in was a tough one.

From that day on, the two of you have been pretty inseparable. You became really close friends and spent a lot of time together before he finally asked you out on a first date. Then came more and more dates, and then came March 2020. Quarantine. And since Charlie had been spending most of his nights at your place since your best friend was with their parents, you both decided to quarantine together.

No one knew about your relationship. Not even his friends from the cast of Julie and The Phantoms. Only his family knew, and that’s all that mattered right now. No one knew you two were spending lockdown together at your place, and you could keep it a secret for a very long time. Charlie liked it this way, though the cast had been texting and calling non-stop because they knew he wasn’t home in Dieppe.

When September 10th hit, and he could finally show you the work he’d done on Julie and The Phantoms.

“What do you think, Baby?” he asked every five minutes when you were cuddled up on the couch watching it together.

“Stop asking me that question, Char,” you giggled and pressed a kiss to his cheek. You were fine for most of the show, chuckling at the ghost jokes or pretty much anything Reggie did, bopping your head along to the catchy songs. And then Unsaid Emily hit. “Oh, no…” you whined as the music started to play and on-screen-Charlie started to sing the sad song. The Charlie next to you chuckled, endeared by your investment in the show, and wrapped his arms tighter around you whilst kissing your head multiple times. “HOW DARE THEY END THIS LIKE THAT?!” You screamed at the very end, making Charlie love you even more. Afterwards, he listened to all of your theories and your predictions for season 2.

Thus far, quarantine is going really well at the Y/L/N-Gillespie Quarantine Residence.

The couple of weeks after the release of Julie and The Phantoms, Charlie had to do a lot of zoom calls for interviews. Sometimes even multiple a day. You made sure you were never in sight during those interviews, sometimes even leaving the house for a walk, but today, you decided to stay home and work on a script for an episode of season 2 of

Outer Banks.

You were sat on the sofa with your laptop and all your notes while Charlie was doing his interview in the bedroom. You could hear him talk to his castmates and the interviewer, and you often had to pause your writing because you wanted to hear what he was talking about.

“Where have you been spending quarantine?” the interviewer asked. Most of them said home with their families, and even Charlie said ‘home’. This answer melted your heart just a tiny bit.

“That’s a lie, Charlie,” Madison said with a giggle. “Charlie has a secret quarantine partner and doesn’t want to say who!”

“I am spending time with family, exploring Dieppe. I don’t know where you get your information from, Mads.” Though Charlie was a good actor, he couldn’t hide the fact he was lying to his own friends. Even you could hear how flustered he was.

“OK, I wanted to start with a couple of the fans’ questions that they sent in,” the interviewer continued, either ignoring the banter and the big piece of gossip they could get out of this, or not having heard it. “Someone asked who you’d love to work with on a next season.”

“Actor wise, I want to do scenes with Cheyenne Jackson,” Madison replies, “I didn’t get to do any scenes with him this season, but he’s really talented and I’d love to work with him. And I also have a writer that would be really great to work with on our show and that’s Y/N Y/L/N. She worked on Outer Banks and Umbrella Academy, and I loved the episodes she wrote.” Charlie’s face at the mention of your name is priceless. His eyes widen first before his mouth curled up into a smile, though he tried to hide it from his castmates and the interviewer.

Madison and Owen glanced into the camera knowingly but decided not to say anything and continue with the interview. It’s when that interview was done, Madi, Owen and Jeremy called Charlie in a group FaceTime.

“It’s Y/N, isn’t it?!” You heard Madison scream from Charlie’s phone as he walked into the living room where you were working. He gave you a questioning look, as if asking for permission to tell them. You simply nodded encouragingly.

“Yes, okay, fine! You figured it out!” The three on the other side of the line cheered loudly, making you chuckle slightly. “You want to meet the cast, Babe?” he asked you whilst making his way over. You patted the spot next to you for him to sit down, and he obeyed, showing you the screen of his phone.

“Hey, guys!” you greeted with a wave. A chorus of ‘hi’ and ‘hey’ meets your ears. “How’d you figure it out?” You asked them, placing your laptop on the coffee table to get more comfortable. You tucked your feet underneath you, placing your elbow on the back of the couch and gliding your fingers into Charlie’s long, lockdown-hair.

“First of all, I follow you on Instagram, Y/N, and I saw the two of you tagged the same location on the same day once, and your last pictures kind of look similar. So, I had a bit of a hunch, but I wasn’t sure, and when I mentioned you in the interview, he got all flustery and happy and I just knew!” You gave the girl an impressed nod.

“We literally just hung up on the interviewer when Madi texted us ‘IT’S Y/N!!’ in all caps,” Jeremy added with a smile. Defeated, and a little embarrassed, Charlie groaned and hid his face in the crook of your neck, seeking comfort.

“We won’t tell anyone, Char. We’re just happy for you,” says Owen with a smile, “And us, because now Madi won’t be texting us non-stop with all her theories on who your quarantine partner is.” All of you chuckled a that, except for Madison, she glared at her blonde-haired friend through the screen.

“You all wanted to know!” she snarled.

All of you chatted for a couple hours until Charlie and you got hungry and decided to prepare dinner.

“It was nice to meet you, Y/N! Hopefully we’ll see each other soon IRL!” Madison said with the biggest smile on her face.

“It was nice to meet you too, guys! Ooh, by the way! I loved the show!” you complimented.

“Of course you did,” said Owen with a suggestive wiggle of his eyebrows.

“Bye guys!” you waved at them, completely ignoring Owen’s statement. Charlie hung up the phone and put his phone on the coffee table before turning to you. “Madison would be a good detective,” you pointed out with a grin. Charlie glared at you, which just made you giggle and kiss his lips. At least now you didn’t need to keep it a secret from his friends. Almost like a weight off your shoulders.

Taglist: @hannahhistorian92 @marinettepotterandplagg @thequirkybookaholic @parkeret @lukeys-giggle @gingerxarmy @lovesanimals

#julie and the phantoms #julie and the himbos #charlie gillespie #charlie x reader #charlie gillespie x reader #charlie gillespie fic #charlie gillespie one shot #luke patterson #reggie jatp #jeremy shada #alex jatp #owen patrick joyner #julie molina #madison reyes

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ninjnerd-anaklusmos · 3 years ago

Note

Hey!! Congrats on the 100 followers!!! For the songs, what about "Our Song" with Mammon and the MC?

You guys asked for it! I hope you enjoy some fluffiness!

Our Song:

Mammon drummed his fingers against the steering wheel, humming softly to himself as he listened to the radio blare catchy pop music. He wasn’t usually into the bubble gum catchy pop stuff, but he didn’t mind it so much today. He was in a great mood, having had a day full of love and happiness, a rarity for him. At least, that was how it felt most days. It wasn’t like his home life was bad per say, it just got overwhelming sometimes, and he needed a breath of fresh air. Driving and listening to music really helped solidify that, but there was also the fact of who he was currently driving with.

Glancing over at the passenger seat, he felt himself starting to smile just at the energy MC was dancing with, shoulders rolling and hands in constant motion with the poppy melody. He found himself bopping to the beat, calmly watching the road, keen ears picking up on MC’s voice, barely audible over how loud the radio was. Knitting his brows, Mammon flicked the knob, lowering the volume so he could hear MC a bit better. They had such a good voice, but they never believed him when he said so, which was dumb. The Great Mammon knew his stuff!

He darting his gaze down to his lap when he felt something brush against his thigh. His eyes widened when he realized it was MC’s hand that had just brushed against him, their dancing knowing no bounds. Mammon felt his cheeks warm and he tried to ignore the feeling coiling inside of him, making him flustered. Why did it always work like that when he was with them? It didn’t help that the reason behind his giddiness was that he and MC had gone on their first official date as a couple. He was worried he would mess everything up, the way he always did. MC kept smiling at him like he was made of gold and he never wanted to let them down.

The radio station switched the track and MC cheered, throwing their hands up in their excitement. Mammon laughed softly, watching them eagerly sing along with the lyrics, some human pop song blaring loudly. It was sweet to watch them so freely without worrying that he would be caught. Listening, Mammon felt his cheeks redden again, catching MC’s voice singing loudly along with no shame at all, “I just wanna feel your skin on mine!”

Mammon cleared his throat, “Hey? Ain’t that kinda...”

MC laughed brightly, continuing without a care in the world, “One kiss is all it takes, fallin’ in love with me!”

Mammon shook his head, reaching out to jab MC in the ribs playfully. “Knock it off!”

“Why?” MC suddenly smirked, a teasing expression crossing over their features, “Are you flustered right now?”

Mammon shook his head quickly, “No! I was, uh...”

MC rolled their eyes, crossing their arms with the sense of challenge. “What were you doing?”

Mammon turned the radio off, “We don’t have a song.”

MC’s eyebrows knit together, their head tilting in confusion. “What do you mean?”

Mammon shrugged, trying to focus on driving, “We ain’t got a song. You singin’ along with all these romantic songs made me think about it.”

He heard MC laugh, followed by, “Mammon, we do have a song.”

The Avatar of Greed arched a brow, pulling to a stop at the red light, turning towards his human, “We do?”

MC nodded brightly, “It’s every time you sneak in my room, every time we barely escape Lucifer’s punishments, every time you kiss me. It’s a melody that hasn’t been played on the radio before, and it’s uniquely ours.”

Mammon swallowed, eyes locked onto the human, “Really?”

MC nodded, a smile on their lips, “Yup.”

Mammon leaned closer to them, bumping their foreheads together, “Can we sing it?”

MC laughed softly, pressing a chaste kiss against his lips, “Yeah.”

Mammon huffed at the millisecond of MC’s lips on his, tugging them closer and pressing their lips fully against his own, eager to keep the day bright and warm. Kissing MC was like winning at poker, thrilling and rewarding. He felt whole, feeling MC throw their arms around his shoulders, a hand on the back of his neck, fingers barely touching his hair. He shuddered against MC, leaning closer and practically crawling into their seat, wanting to be closer and wanting to have them all to himself forever. He felt MC push his chest, nudging him back enough for them to poke his cheek playfully, a brilliant smile on their lips.

“Mammon, the light’s green.”

Mammon blinked, “What? Oh!”

Flushed, Mammon plopped back into his seat, hands back on the wheel. He could hear MC laugh to themself and it made his ears burn. He really wanted to keep kissing them. Although, sense they were dating, he realized that just meant he could kiss them all the time. A grin spread across his lips as they continued to drive along, “MC?”

The human looked over at the demon, “Yeah?”

Mammon tossed his grin over at them, fangs visible, “I really like our song.”

MC’s cheeks turned a pretty pink shade, “Me too.”

Mammon turned the radio back on, humming along to the melody blaring through his speakers again, happy and warm. Being MC’s man was more than enough to brighten up even his worst days, and on days like today, when it felt like nothing could go wrong? Those were the best kind of days to share with MC, a deep sense of belonging and love blossoming inside of his chest, surrounding his heart. Mammon slipped a hand off of the wheel, reaching for MC’s hand. He clasped his fingers with theirs, smiling the entire time. MC squeezed his hand, threading their fingers together tightly, “I had a really good time today.”

Mammon felt his smile widen, giddy suddenly at the thought of being the reason MC was in such a good mood. “A’course ya did! You were with The Great Mammon!”

He saw MC smile softly at him out of the corner of his eye, “My Great Mammon.”

He flushed at that, “Y-yeah. That.”

MC laughed again, but it was a softer kind of laugh, a sweeter kind. “Well, I am your human.”

Mammon grinned again, “Exactly!”

He tensed when he felt MC’s lips brush against his knuckles, “Wanna watch a movie back at the HoL?”

Mammon nodded quickly, pressing a little harder against the gas pedal, “Definitely.” Realizing how eager he sounded, Mammon tried to back-track, “Uh, I mean sure! I ain’t too busy.”

MC smiled warmly at him, “That works for me.”

Curious and want to send in an ask? Here’s the post!

#obey me mammon #obey me #shall we date obey me #obey me mc #obey me mammon x mc #our song #answered #my fanfiction #my fanfic writing #my fic #thank you for the ask!#y'all are so sweet #precious mammon #crow man <3 #this is my first time writing MC #i hope they are okay #first dates #fluff #100 followers event

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mxchellesworld · 4 years ago

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Gloria

Spencer Reid x Latina!Reader

request; Spencer and a reader who is bilingual

synopsis; Spencer turns 30 and spends the day with his favorite people

warnings; just fluff

*I added translations for a few things at the end

a/n; fuck accent marks, all my homies hate accent marks>:( lol but really, i did this in spanish since i speak it and thought it would be cute - i am very happy i got this request! as always enjoy

***

Spencer was proud of his multi linguistic skills, he had worked hard to be able to communicate with others in different languages. However when he wasn’t using his skills in a case or for research, his language skills were put to great use in watching his Russian films and trying to impress you.

While yes you had been together and married for nearing 6 years, it was always his main goal. Even when you first started to get to know one another and he met your parents he whipped out formal spanish greeting, with Elle’s help of course, which immediately had your mother swooning. Papa took some getting used to but now Spencer was his son at heart.

When you found out you were pregnant with your little girl he made sure to get books in spanish as well. According to him the novelas you watched weren’t gonna do much to help but give her more of your sass.

But when she came into the world he was more than overjoyed hearing your cooing over her. The way her big brown eyes lit up hearing your voice in the mornings.

“Donde esta mi princessa hermosa,” you said switching off the sound machine in the nursery. Instantly you were met with the sound of tiny giggles immersing from the swaddle of yellow fluffy blankets in her crib.

Another thing Spencer told you was that talking to babies was key in helping develop their speaking and understanding skills. Of course there was a percentage to accompany the fact but you got the just of it.

“Vamos a despertar a papa,” you said lifting her up and running your fingers through the steady growing curls on the top of her head.

She instantly perked up at the mention of her dad. Gummy smile spread across her chubby cheeks.

“Es su cumpleaños hoy. Creo que tu eres el mejor regalo que le pudia ver dado,” you finished by rubbing your nose onto hers. She shrieked in laughter, her tiny hands grabbing onto your hair.

After giving her diaper a quick change and dressing her up in her favorite onesie which read ‘daddy’s genius’, of course gifted by the best god mother Penelope Garcia, you walked over to your bedroom.

She clung onto your earrings as you patted down the hall trying to make minimal noise and wake up Spencer. You opened the door to see him still sound asleep having come back from a case late at night.

He was laying on his back, head tilted to the side with one hand under the pillow and the other on his stomach. You watched the rise and fall of his steady breathe in the Halloween t-shirt he slept in.

You smiled at the hitch in Gloria’s breath seeing her daddy first thing in the morning. The way she wiggled her body in your arms just dying to see her favorite person.

You straddled his waist trying to keep your weight on your knees to not wake him up. You then placed Gloria on his chest and let her go to town. Her sloppy kisses on his cheeks woke him from his slumber.

He slowly opened his eyes and let the smile spread across his face, “Oh wow what a way to wake up,” he let out a giggle.

Spencer sat up and held her close to his face, peppering kisses all over her rosy cheeks.

“We wanted to give the best father in the world an early birthday gift. Huh G,” you said calling for the little girl.

She babbled away in agreement making both you and Spencer share a laugh. You got off from his lap and snuggled into his arms.

“Well gracias Gloria,” he said bopping her nose, “I appreciate the wake up.”

You pressed a kiss to his cheek and watched as the two interacted before getting up to make breakfast.

You left them in bed and went to the kitchen whipping up some pancakes and a bottle for Gloria. When things were finishing up you heard Spencer’s steps coming down the hall.

He sat her in the high chair next to the table and wrapped his arms around your waist as you plated the food.

“Thank you for the best birthday gift I could ever ask for. I love you so much Y/n, you guys make me the happiest man on earth.”

You turned and met him with a sweet kiss, “Love you so much more mi amore. You deserve every bit of happiness Spence.”

Your moment was brought to an end by tiny hands banging on the plastic tray of her high chair. You both shared a look of understanding before you sat in the chair next to Gloria’s.

Spencer sat across from you while the three of you shared breakfast together. Gloria’s attitude was quickly changed by the cut up pieces of pancake you let her munch on.

By the time you had finished breakfast she was ready to be bathed and have some playtime before her midday nap if she was to endure the fabulous party hosted by none other than Papa Rossi.

“I’ll clean up here, you give her a bath and get her ready,” you said taking Spencer’s plate.

“You cooked I can clean this up no problem,” he tried to argue.

“No no you guys have your daddy daughter time. Then you can read her a story before her nap,” you said nodding.

He smiled at you then picked her out of the high chair and leaned down to press a kiss to your cheek. You could hear him cooing and talking to her as they made their way down the hall.

By 2pm you were getting ready to head to Dave’s house or Uncle Dave as he’s been more recently known. He agreed to host Spencer a little birthday party which consisted of the team and their kids.

After getting gloria dressed she was still fast asleep in her car seat and the ride to Dave’s was smooth with small talk and quiet music on the radio.

Spencer drove with his hand interlocked with yours in the middle, randomly pressing kisses to it during red lights.

“Mama y Papa called to wish you a happy birthday. It was when you were bathing G but they told me to relay the message,” you said playing with the scarf around his neck.

You could see the small blush creep on his face. Any mention of your parents thinking and caring for him hit really hard within him. They knew of his past and did their best to have him know he was truly a part of your family.

“I’ll make sure to call them tomorrow and say thank you. Maybe we can visit them soon, I know they miss Gloria and I really miss your mom’s cooking,” he said with a smile.

Arriving at David’s you were met with the door being ripped open by all the kids of the BAU. The boys were more than happy to wish their Uncle Spence a happy birthday and greet their little girl.

Since she was the only girl of the bunch they had sworn to protect her the best they could. Even if it wasn’t much now, when she got older they would definitely be her playground body guards.

Penelope and Derek then let you guys in and attacked you both in the biggest hugs imaginable.

“Oh hot mama I’ve missed you so much,” Garcia said swaying you back and forth.

“I’ve missed you more Garcia. We should round the girls up and get brunch sometime,” you said with a quirk in your lip.

She instantly lit up and grabbed your hand to take you to the rest of the BAU ladies. You looked back to see Spencer and Morgan laughing as they cooed over Gloria who was now waking up for her godfather.

The rest of the night went down smoothly with Gloria being passed around like a hot potato. Though she never minded, loving the attention from all her aunts and uncles.She was quite the stunner. Even getting Hotch to break character and indulge her in a wholesome game of pickaboo.

A few games were played and stories were told but it was time to cut the cake before it reached anyone’s bedtime.

You sat around Rossi’s yard, the candles reading 30 glowed under the October sky. You all sang and held smiles on your face as Spencer blew out his candles. Gloria bouncing on his lap happily around all the commotion.

While he’d never admit it, you knew he actually didn’t wish for anything. Everything he could ask for was surrounding him at that very moment and he was more than content with the love of his favorite people.

translations

“Donde esta mi princessa hermosa,” - “Where is my pretty princess”

“Vamos a despertar a papa,” - “Lets go wake up dad”

“Es su cumpleaños hoy. Creo que tu eres el mejor regalo que le pudia ver dado,” - “It’s his birthday today. I think you are the best gift I could have ever given him”

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds smut #spencer reid fanfiction #mgg x reader #chellewrites #spencer reid x poc!reader #spencer reid x latina!reader

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serenityseventeen · 3 years ago

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♪ The Last Day of Summer With You

Woozi/Lee Jihoon : A Simple Walk to the Park

You didn't want to leave this day regretful.

And what better way than to spend the summer finale with your boyfriend, Jihoon?

You knew that over the summer, Jihoon had the opportunity to do many fun things with his members. He was very happy and you were glad that he got to go on so many adventures and healing trips with his best friends that had been there for him all of his life.

However, as his beloved, you only got to spend so much time with him. Even now, as you were walking toward his universe factory located in the middle of a bustling city, you wondered whether or not he'll be up for a little walk to the park.

Well, even if he didn't want to spend time outdoors, you could probably just hang out with him in his studio. Jihoon considered that place his second home and the place that he felt most comfortable in, so most of the time, you assumed that he'd be there.

Jihoon, on the other hand, was bopping his head gently to a song that he was in the process of finishing. The instrumental was created by one of the musical production groups, Prismfilter, and he thought it sounded nice, like a gleaming day under the cloudless sky, sitting under a blooming tree, on a bench, feeling the summer air, and gazing at the tiny birds that flew across.

Even with all of these idealistic scenarios sparking in his head one by one, he couldn't find the right words to describe it. He wanted to select beautiful words that could represent his heart and connect with the listeners, but the more he thought about it, the harder it became for him to find a word.

Another idea bloomed in his head and he reached for his phone. To find inspiration, sometimes he'd be thinking of someone or something. For a beautiful sounding song, he had to be looking at the most beautiful person he knew; you.

Just as he was about to pull up a picture he took of you about a month back, when you two went on a date to a puppy cafe. He smiled without realizing it as he found the picture of your holding a cute puppy while scrolling down his photo gallery.

His door swiftly opened with a small screech and Jun peeked his head inside with a light, puerile smile. Jihoon jumped, startled by Jun's sudden entrance.

“Y/N's waiting outside for you, they want to go on a walk or something,” Jun delivered, pointing his thumb backward, gesturing that you were waiting outside.

“Oh, okay, I'll be right out...” Jihoon replied, quickly turning off his phone.

When he left the studio, you were outside the building, waiting for him. You swung your leg back and forth, kicking the air, and stared up at the sky. Jihoon had checked the weather in advance and found out that it was going to be hot with a bit of breeze, so he wore a cap and casual clothes.

“You wanted to go on a walk?” He asked as he approached you, his voice gentle.

He was happy that you came to see him. On this sunny day, in front of you two was a large road of passing cars, roaring. He was dying for a quiet, peaceful time with you, the person he found the most resplendent.

“Yeah, if you don't mind,” You said, turning to face him. “I wanted to spend a part of the summer with you. You know, this year won't come around again.”

You sounded moderately nostalgic. Jihoon thought that it was a good idea and quickly complied with a slight nod of his head. He smiled. “I think that'll be fine. I wanted to see you anyway.”

You chortled, feeling your heart soften because of his honeyed words. You two began walking down the busy streets, your arm hooked in his. As you two walked, you gradually brought your hands into his, interlocking your fingers with his.

Jihoon tried to contain his gleeful smile and slowly hid away your hand into his shorts pocket. You smiled softly and turned to him as you two approached the park.

“Weren't you busy?” You asked, breaking the comfortable silence between you two. “You didn't call me today so I was thinking that maybe you were caught up in a song.”

Jihoon cleared his throat and glanced at you before turning forward again. “I do work a lot but that doesn't mean I don't have time for you. I like doing things simply like this but if you ever want a fancy dinner, you can call me.”

You chuckled looking down at the ground, feeling shy at his romantic reply. Even in these busy streets between skyscrapers, it felt like you two were walking alone.

With little conversation, the two of you arrived at the park, and immediately, you broke away from his hands to head over to the children's playground. The playground was empty, surprisingly, but you figured it may be because of the hot weather that people decided to stay inside instead of coming out to play and getting baked under the sky.

“Hey, Jihoonie!” You called out for him upon entering the children's zone. You jumped onto the swings and sat down with a pure smile. “Come over here!”

Jihoon was skeptical but everything about that smile could make him give in. He knew that it was foolish but he also knew that he could do anything for that smile of yours. He just loved you so much.

His face looked like he despised the thought of being on the playground with you but his legs began walking toward the playground and before he knew it, his bottom was tucked tight on the swings.

Jihoon had his arms around the chained swing hangers. You didn't swing high but instead swung side to side while gazing at Jihoon with lovey-dovey eyes.

“What...?” Jihoon finally asked, chuckling a little. The way you were looking at him was making him a bit nervous. “Why are you just looking at me like that while swinging sideways?”

“You look handsome, Jihoon,” You replied with a cute grin that didn't fail to flip Jihoon's heart upside down. “I was just thinking, when Autumn comes, would you like to try out pumpkin picking with me?”

“Sure, why not? If that's what you want.”

Jihoon's answers were simple, slipping out of his heart and mouth. He watched as you continued swinging side to side, growing far than coming closer, each time making his heart pound.

“Jihoon,” You said softly, your voice growing distant then ending up closer again.

“What?” He asked, expecting that you were going to say something mischievous, bad, or completely unexpected.

“I like you, a lot.”

Jihoon smiled because even though the two of you were already dating, those words were still enchanting to hear, even if Jihoon had trouble saying it back. “I like you too.”

He tried to reply with ease but he had to look away out of shyness. Seeing your boyfriend's cute response to your love confession, you couldn't help but smile.

“Thank you for loving someone like me,” You said. You stopped swinging back and forth and leaned toward him while still on the swing.

Jihoon humbly shook his head. “No, thank you for loving someone like me. Not everyone can deal with me. I'm a fool for music and I'm an idol.”

You smiled and replied with your whole heart, “You're a very simple guy. I love you. You make me happy.”

Jihoon smiled.

You weren't even finished talking yet but your eyes locked and before you could continue saying what was engraved on your heart and mind, Jihoon beat you to it.

With a slight twinkle in his eyes, Jihoon finished what you wanted to say in the softest tone, “Sometimes, happiness is simple.”

Jihoon knew that love was complex but with you, it seemed so easy. There was no need for anything complex or fancy. He, a simple person, was your happiness.

And you, who seemed like a dream, was his happiness.

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

a/n: once again the photo has barely any relevance to the story lmao + Water sports TTT was so fun to watch, I could feel their happiness from the screen!! I loved it so much and smiled and laughed a lot because of it but I wanted to see some more Jun, feels like I didn't see him a lot.. anyway I'm excited for drunkteen again next ep :D + this imagine was high-key based on woozi's "simple" because that song is still freaking gorgeous to my ears

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f33itan · 4 years ago

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Hello! Could I get some one shots of the trouble trio (phinks,shalnark,feitan)getting caught checking out their s/o? Of that too much than just one of feitan! Thaaanks. ✨

THIS ^^^^ I LOVE THIS

I made the reader a female, sorry about that. If you wanted it to be different PLEASE let me know so I can tweak it!!

I accidentally deleted Fei’s oneshot at first because my fucking laptop doesn’t allow me to save drafts from requests 😭 I tried to rewrite it bc I was proud anyways

*also ps u don’t have to have big badonkers for this, just enough that you can see a little bit there*

Trouble Trio getting caught Checking Out their s/o!

Feitan Portor

It was early in the morning when you two woke up. After many promises, considerations, and LOTS of begging and convincing, you managed to get Feitan to go to the beach with you.

The night before you had packed everything you guys would need: Sunscreen, towels, food and snacks, shade, chairs, everything. Now you were changing into your bathing suit as was he, facing each others backs respectfully. Once you were finished you grabbed some last minute things and started to pack everything into the car. You both got everything and started driving.

Now the beach was about an hour and a half away so you both agreed to stop by a drive thru and get some quick breakfast. After doing so you continued down the road.

For the most part you avoided traffic, since it was early in the morning, but after nearing the beach it seemed as though the freeway was decently packed. This didn’t bother you since it wasn’t that bad, but Feitan was getting quite irritated.

“Are we, almost there?” You could practically see the venom spat out from his tone, not directed at you but to the ‘nuisances’ blocking the road.

“Yes Fei we’re almost there.”

“These people, are annoying. Drive.”

“Feitan we could crash into somebody if we did that, then we would ESPECIALLY not go to the beach!” Feitan grumbled something and slumped in his seat, as you turned on the radio and changed it to your favorite station. You began to hum the song and bop your head to the beat of the music, this eventually turning into a light dance whilst in the driver’s seat. After a couple of minutes you heard a ‘Click!’ come from Feitan’s side.

“Fei, what did you just do??” He didn’t respond to this, though he showed you his phone. On it was a photo of you dancing and smiling.

“FEITAN PORTOR DELETE THAT NOW”

“Nope 🖤”

“Sone of a.. SHIIITT!!” You stepped on the gas pedal as the honks of people behind you registered in your head. The traffic had been moving this whole time and Feitan didn’t even bother to tell you! All the while you could hear him cracking up in his seat.

By the time you arrived at the beach, unloaded your things from the car, found a spot in the sand and unpacked everything, it was about 11 AM. All that was left to do was undress down to your swimwear, apply sunscreen and head in the water. Undress down to your swimwear... Feitan didn’t like this.

Does she have to do this in front of all of these people?

What if people start checking her out?

What the fuck?

Nevertheless you began to pull up your shirt. You weren’t wearing anything too revealing, just a simple (f/c) one piece that fit well around your body, showing a slight bit of cleavage. Pulling down your shorts as well, you felt a pair of eyes on you. Very familiar eyes..

“FEITAN ARE YOU CHECKING ME OUT?”

“N- no” You could see the blush on his face from the couple feet away you were from him. You picked up your clothes and hurled them at his face as hard as you could, which to your surprise he didn’t dodge.

“Pervy Feitan pervy Feitan pervy Feitan”

“I’M NOT, A PERVERT.”

“Mhm, sure you aren-” You felt him pick you up and begin to speed walk towards the water, I’m sure you could guess what happened next.

Shalnark Ryusei

You and Shalnark had been planning this for a while. A fun couple’s night out with a fancy dinner, movies and cuddling on the couch. You and your partner were finishing up getting dressed as you heard a weird honk from outside.

“Alright princess let’s go!”

“Huh? Wait-” You couldn’t really object since Shal picked you up bridal style and began walking out the door towards a.. limo?

“Shalbaby, you didn’t have to do thiiss.” You chuckled and looked at your blushing boyfriend.

“Of course I did! I’m always off on missions and don’t get to see you too often!! I have to make it up to you somehow!” You heard the driver scoff at your guys’ gushy talk, and in the blink of an eye Shalnark shot a pin in his neck and told him to drive to your first destination, to which he obliged at will.

Once the two of you arrived you had an amazing 3 coursed meal, each dish even better than the last. Chit-chatting the whole time, it felt as though you grew even closer to your boyfriend. Not by being at an amazing restaurant and not by doing amazing things with him, but because you WERE with him. Talking and laughing together, sharing sad and fun memories, every time you were with him you felt that you couldn’t fall for him again, but here you were, head over heels. Shalnark payed for the dinner and you both thanked the waitress. Walking back to the limo you guys sat and talked some more while heading to the best movie theater in town.

Even after the movie, it appeared Shal had some more things in town, and with this you ended up going to an ice cream parlor, arcade, and finally stopping by the troupe’s current hideout to say hi. Heading back home you practically collapsed from all of the fun you two had.

Barley being able to walk back to your guys’ room, you changed into some lazy pajamas and Shal changed into his. As you were pulling down your comfy shirt you felt two muscular arms wrap around your waist and fell onto the bed.

“SHALL I WAS CHANGING!!” You both started giggling like children as you flipped yourself over and gave him a kiss on his cheek. You could tell his eyes were wandering though, and soon you realized he was staring at your chest. You grabbed a pillow from behind you and pushed down on his face with it, hearing a startled Shalnark yelp from beneath.

“That’s what you get for being a perv-” *POMPH* He pulled the pillow off of his face and smacked you with it, resulting in a full blown pillow fight with you two passing out on the couch.

Phinks Magcub

You were feeling like a bit of a tease today so you decided to dress in some rather revealing clothes. A skirt shorter than the average, some thigh highs and a crop top, all to get a reaction out of your boyfriend.

Phinks was sitting in the living room snacking and watching some tv as he thought you were still asleep. It was about 10 in the morning so you decided to waltz into the kitchen and make breakfast.

“Hey bab... babe?” He couldn’t finish his sentence as his eyes looked you up and down. Drool was practically falling out of his mouth but you pretended to not notice, still making breakfast.

“Morning baby! How’d you sleep?” Phinks shook his head back into reality.

“G- good, you?”

“I slept pretty well, thanks for asking.” Swinging your hips while plating the food almost pushed Phinks over the edge as his face now looked as red as a tomato.

“Is it feeling a bit warm to you? I’m going to go turn on the AC heh..” You ran in front of your boyfriend and jumped onto him like a koala. At this rate he might as well be a cartoon character because he was fuming. He didn’t have the strength to speak out any words, and all you did was laugh.

“I know you were staring at me earlier~”

“H- HUhH? What would make you think that? I was just watching tv!”

“Then why are your hands on my ass right now?”

Phinks flat out passed out, right there, onto the floor.

#Feitan #Feitan Portor #Feitan hxh #Feitan x Reader #Shalnark #Shalnark Ryusei #Shalnark hxh #Shalnark x reader #Phinks #Phinks Magcub #Phinks hxh #Phinks x Reader

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unbridgeabledistances · 4 years ago

Text

okayyy so i had something heavier/hurt-comforty in the works as a gapfiller about mickey processing (bc we all need that!!!) but this fluffy little 3+1 about ian and mickey singing to each other happened instead— i hope u enjoy💞

a 3+1 of 3 times ian sang to mickey, and one time mickey sang to ian (to give context to the absolutely wild 11x09 serenade)

also the biggest shoutout to @southside-forever’s 80s gallavich playlist which has SO many bops and inspired bits of this😌

Mickey didn’t really know when it all started— Ian was always fucking humming these days, always whistling or singing some tune under his breath when he came out of the shower. He was more buoyant recently, lighter— the security gig was going well, and these days it felt like something looming and heavy had lifted, releasing the crooked hunch out of Ian’s shoulders that had taken root the sour morning weeks before as he shoveled Fruit Loops and Jameson into his mouth. Since then, it felt like he and Ian were finally on the same goddamn page for once— like they had a purpose, like they were moving forward.

Or at least, moving forward on the weekdays— but today was a slow, lazy Saturday, and Mickey was still laying in bed in a tank top and boxers, sweaty and entangled in the crumpled sheets, laying back with his head on the pillow and playing some overly-gory sharpshooter game on his phone. He’d been trying to beat this fucking level a million times, but his thumb couldn’t move quickly enough at the pivotal moment when he had to shoot a bunch of enemy forces— he’d been at the game for a good half hour, since when Ian had sleepily stumbled off of the mattress sporting a full bedhead to go take a shower, and Mickey was starting to get a tinny, sharp headache from staring at his phone screen for too long. He was just starting to consider getting up, to peel off his sweaty tank top and head downstairs to grab some coffee— when Ian came into the room from his shower, a fraying towel wrapped around his lower half and his torso slick with excess water droplets. Mickey flickered his eyes up from his game for a moment, taking an… appreciative glance, and then quickly focused his attention back on his pixelated mission as Ian stood in front of the dresser in the cramped bedroom, and started to rustle through the drawers for a t-shirt.

Mickey maneuvered his buff video game avatar through a minefield, biting his lip in concentration— when his sharp focus was suddenly infiltrated by Ian, singing under his breath in an airy tone.

“Ooooooh we’re halfway there.”

Mickey gritted his teeth slightly and tried to pour all his attention into the pivotal moment of the level, but half of his mind was being pulled to listen to Ian’s gravelly voice, continuing to softly murmur to himself in a tone that was ridiculously off-key.

“She says we’ve gotta hoooold on, to what we’ve got—”

Mickey’s phone screen flickered. GAME OVER.

Mickey wanted to throw his phone at the fucking wall. He inhaled, then pressed “Start Game” again, one last time— and again, his focus was disrupted by Ian, singing under his breath as he pulled on his jeans and gently pattered his hands in a rhythm on the top of the dresser— which was endearing and sappy as fuck, sure, but it was not helping Mickey with the task at hand. Mickey puffed out a sharp, frustrated breath, keeping his eyes on his phone screen.

“The fuck are you singing for right now?”

Ian suddenly gave a sheepish smile over his shoulder as he rifled through their sock drawer, like he’d been caught in the middle of doing something wrong.

“Don’t know. Song was just stuck in my head I guess.”

Mickey glared at Ian, pressing his thumb to the screen to pause his game. “Cut that shit out.”

Ian rolled his eyes fondly, sitting on the edge of the mattress to pull on his socks. “You should be thanking me for serenading you with your fucking eighties dad music. I could be singing Carly Rae Jepson right now, or some other pop bullshit that you hate.”

Mickey felt an involuntary, amused smirk split onto his face, and he tried to turn it into a scowl. Fucking adorable motherfucker.

“Okay, tough guy. If anything you should be thanking me for cleansing your ears from the techno garbage that you used to listen to.”

Ian gave a soft smile, shoulders turning fully towards Mickey now that he’d finished pulling on his socks— and then he turned and clambered into the bed, hovering above Mickey and causing Mickey’s fingers to go slack around his phone case. Mickey could smell the warm, freshly-showered scent of him, all cheap bar soap and Old Spice deodorant, and felt the soft press of his t-shirt through Mickey’s thin tank top— an overly worn t-shirt, one of Mickey’s, that stretched just a little too tight over Ian’s torso.

Ian looked down at Mickey, fucking beaming for some reason, his eyes light. He swooped down, pressing a soft, quick kiss above Mickey’s eyebrow. And then—

“Take my haaaand, we’ll make it I sweeear”

Mickey felt an involuntary, uncomfortable chuckle bubble up out of his ribcage. Was Ian fucking… singing? To him? It definitely seemed like it. And as much as he didn’t want it to, because this was fucking sappy and ridiculous and… well, gay— Mickey couldn’t help the fact that his husband leaning over him, breathily singing the tune of one of their goddamn wedding songs in his husky tone-deaf voice, made Mickey’s blood run a little bit hotter; which was bullshit, because absolutely nothing about this should be hot, and it was probably the most disgustingly married thing that Mickey could think of— but apparently everything about Ian, every dorky and fucking god-awful cringey thing that he did, was a turn-on, or at least according to Mickey’s thudding heartbeat and sweaty palms right now.

Ian’s face was still hovering centimeters above his, his eyebrows raised triumphantly and sporting a sappy fucking grin, like he knew how affected Mickey was by this, no matter how much Mickey grumbled and complained and tried to hide it.

Mickey rolled his eyes. “You’re fucking soft, Gallagher.”

Ian just leaned down again, kissing up the slope of Mickey’s neck and biting at his earlobe—and, okay, maybe Mickey could get behind Ian’s singing after all.

Ian’s singing was starting to get fucking ridiculous— and as much as it made something deep inside Mickey feel a light pang of relief, to see Ian being his old bubbly self again in the rhythms of routine and held by the safety net of financial stability because of the security gig that made the air between them less stale, it also meant that they were also around each other pretty much 24/7, and Ian’s serenades were starting to get relentless.

While they pretty much had a common ground in liking nostalgic 80s music, they would still inevitably argue about what music to play in the ambulance every morning— and whatever shitty album they eventually chose to put on, whether it was Ian’s pop garbage of Mickey’s mellower 80s tunes, Ian’s brain would apparently absorb all the songs like a fucking sponge and he’d start singing them all day long—in the kitchen, in the shower, even when they were just laying in bed on their phones and Ian would constantly hum absentmindedly.

Today they were driving to some bougie dispensary in Glencoe, near a bunch of ridiculous mansions on the very outskirts of the city, and it was Ian’s turn to pick the music— Mickey usually elected one of the well-loved CDs that he’d jammed into the glove compartment as they were refurbishing the ambulance, CDs that he’d kept since he was a kid when he piled them high in the corner of his grimy room next to a half-broken boombox— but as much as they were Mickey’s comfort CDs, Ian could only listen to Bon Jovi so many times before he started to slander 80s music as a collective genre.

“Can we just listen to something by someone who isn’t older than us, just this once?”

“Easy for you to say, Gallagher. At least the music that I like has fucking words.”

When it was Ian’s turn to pick the music, he usually picked more modern stuff with heavy beats and a thrumming bass (though more often than not he also appeased Mickey’s tastes with some “80s throwback” playlist he’d found on Spotify that he’d noticed Mickey would bob his head along to)—but on longer drives, like this one, it was easy to butt heads about the soundtrack. Ian had allowed Mickey to play through one of his Queen CDs that morning, and then Ian had put on some whiny indie bullshit from a playlist on his phone for the other half of the drive— now they were heading home after a long day, with the stereo turned low to a local radio station.

They’d settled into a comfortable silence, as they often did at the end of the day when their energy faded— Ian had stopped pattering his hands on the steering wheel like he usually did when he was amped up and buzzing with energy in the mornings, and Mickey could tell they were both ready to collapse onto the couch the second they set foot in the door.

Mickey blew out a deflated breath and reached to turn up the radio, tuning in to some middle-aged host with a cheery voice chattering about the heat wave in Chicago that upcoming weekend—and then the airwaves went silent, and there was the overdramatic sound of a slamming door and a gospel choir.

Ian’s ears nearly fucking perked up at the sound as the opening chords began.

“Life is a mystery… Everyone must stand alone…”

Ian immediately raised his voice to join in, the tired slouch leaving his shoulders.

“I hear you call my naaaame”

He turned to Mickey and pointed overdramatically, causing Mickey to shove his arm away but unable to quell the overly fond grin that he knew was blooming on his face.

“And it feels like… home.”

The beat dropped, rolling into the chorus, and Ian energetically drummed his hands against the steering wheel once more.

“C’mon, Mick!” Ian laughed, throwing his head back dramatically as he sang while still trying to keep his eyes on the road.

“When you call my name, it’s like a little prayer, I’m down on my knees, I wanna take you there.” Ian’s pitchiness clashed with the melody, but he was too focused on singing and bopping side to side in this seat to really care.

Mickey rolled his eyes, his lips still turned upwards at the corners while he watched his absolute dork of a husband jamming to Madonna. “Isn’t this song about giving someone a blowjob or some shit?”

Ian gave an easygoing laugh. “Technically, yes. And it’s also definitionally a gay anthem, which means you have to sing with me.”

Mickey scoffed and flipped Ian off. “Fuck off.”

Ian raised a playful eyebrow, and continued to sing with relentless eye contact:

“It’s like a dreeeeam, no end and no beginning”

Mickey felt heat rise into his cheeks against his will. No fucking way was he going to sing a Madonna song about a blowjob stone-cold sober at 2pm on a Tuesday while driving home from work with his fucking husband—which, wow, that was probably the gayest sentence that had ever crossed Mickey’s mind in his 26 years of existence (which was definitely saying a lot).

This wasn’t ever a place Mickey thought he’d be in— sitting beside Ian so comfortably, singing fucking songs while they drove home from their daily commute; getting to soak up all the warmth, all the brightness that had always radiated out of Ian so intensely that it nearly blinded him, a warmth that he’d always wanted to lean in closer to even when they were just scrawny kids in a shitty neighborhood still figuring everything out.

Maybe, just maybe— it was okay to lean in a little more.

By the time the chorus rolled around the third time, Mickey was begrudgingly humming along, like he usually did whenever the songs that Ian was singing on and endless loop got stuck in his own head and popped up while he was brushing his teeth or making toast for breakfast— by the time the final rhythmic chorus faded to silence on the radio waves, Mickey glanced over at Ian, singing at the top of his lungs, face slightly flushed and grinning ear to ear.

“Just like a prayer, your voice can take me there.”

Ian and Mickey were walking down the moonlit sidewalk, veering back home after an evening at Lip’s— the night had honestly been weirdly enjoyable, which was definitely a welcome reprieve from all of Lip and Debbie’s intense back-and-forths about the house over the past few weeks. Tami and Lip had needed to go over to Brad and Cami’s for some bullshit crisis management about the stolen bikes, and Ian had readily agreed to watch Freddie— which meant that whether he liked it or not, Mickey had spent his Friday evening at Lip’s half-packed apartment watching Ian coo over a one-year-old, which was… not a totally unwelcome sight.

Trying to keep his shit together, Mickey had snapped a picture to send to the Gallagher family group chat, and everyone had immediately given them shit about being so eager to babysit and get their hands on a toddler like a couple of baby-crazed newlyweds—which had caused Mickey to start overzealously complaining in the groupchat to compensate while Ian occupied Freddie. Kev had noticed the texts and swung by Lip and Tami’s house after closing the Alibi to keep the two of them company, bringing by a pack of beers—and now he and Ian were warm and happily buzzed, relieved of their babysitting duties and walking the chilly city streets back towards the Gallagher house.

Halfway through the walk Ian had interlaced their fingers, and now their arms were swinging slightly as they turned the final corner to walk down the last stretch of pavement towards the chain-link fence—when suddenly, Ian stopped cold a few houses away from the Gallagher front porch. He looked down at Mickey, raising their entangled hands and pressing a kiss to the inside of Mickey’s wrist.

Mickey raised an eyebrow in confusion, and Ian just looked back at him—his cheeks glowing pink from the few beers, his eyes light and unguarded under the streetlamps.

“This spot reminded me of something.”

Mickey rolled his eyes. Of fucking course it did. Ian was a sappy motherfucker on the best of days, but with a couple of beers in him he was practically uncontrollable.

“What?”

All of a sudden Ian let go of his hand, punching into the air dramatically.

“Cause love is a battlefiiiield”

Mickey laughed, feeling warm hot blood rush to his cheeks in delight—and fuck, he loved his husband so goddamn much. And just this once, mostly because of the own alcohol running thick in his bloodstream, Mickey made the lurching decision to join in, stepping closer towards Ian and raising his hands equally as dramatically.

“No promises, no demands”

“Woooooah”

Ian had practically doubled over with laughter, tears welling in the corner of his eyes—and Mickey let himself get lost in it, the warm feeling buzzing through his body, of love and joy and fuck knows what else, getting to sing on a fucking street corner with his husband a decade after everything had gone so gut-wrenchingly wrong, leaving him bleeding on this same pavement.

They stumbled over their own feet up the stairs, fumbling out of their clothes and collapsing into bed—and later, just as Mickey was on the brink of fading into unconsciousness, Ian mumbled the same refrain into the crook of Mickey’s neck in a sleepy voice, like the song was still stuck in his head and he just couldn’t help it.

“Love is a battlefield.”

It was late— it was one of those slow, tender nights when the past was hanging heavy over them, laying pressed together in bed as thin streams of moonlight poured in through the blinds, pressing whispers into each other’s skin about all of the hurt and the doubt that had been seeped up and healed with time.

Ian was sprawled back on the bed and Mickey was laying with his head resting on his chest, feeling his ribcage expand and contract each time he took a breath. They’d absorbed so much the past few weeks— the sick, twisted blows of a loss that felt all the more jagged and painful because of how muddled the grief for Terry was—but after a few days had passed they’d found a place to settle, in the comforting press of the silence in their bedroom.

Mickey was mindlessly playing with Ian’s fingers, listening to his steady breathing—and without thinking, he ran a finger over the cool silver of Ian’s wedding band, letting out a breathy chuckle.

“I still can’t believe we’re married sometimes, man.”

Mickey could feel Ian’s lips curve upward into a smile from where his mouth was pressed against the top of Mickey’s head.

“Yeah, me either.”

And Mickey felt something bubbling, something welling— and he didn’t ever fucking sing, not unless Ian made him, but Ian was always fucking dropping song lines into sappy moments like this.

So he took a breath, and, half-singing but mostly talking, in a way that sounded almost mocking if it wasn’t so soft around the edges, he let out into the dark silence of the room:

“At last….”

He wasn’t even singing, not really—he was just sort of… saying the words in a singsongy way, but he knew that Ian could tell what he was doing, what he was trying to do. He was trying to be as fucking sweet and soft and pliant as Ian was, as Ian always was in moments like this, in a way that sometimes made Mickey feel brittle and hard in comparison. This time, Mickey wanted to breathe out the love he had for him into this moment, the love that made his ribcage feel like it was going to fucking burst— a love that he felt erupting outwards when Ian had played this song for him for the first time a few weeks before the wedding, and had asked with a shy smile, “D’you think it’d be okay if you walked down the aisle to this song?”

Ian’s chest shook with laughter, and he carded a hand through Mickey’s hair. And then, in his gentle, sleep-soft voice, in a breathy tone that tickled the shell of Mickey’s ear:

“My looove has come along”

Mickey rolled his eyes fondly, just to prove something to himself, even though he knew Ian couldn’t see him—and then he reached a hand upward and leaned back, drawing Ian’s chin forward to press his lips to his for a brief, lingering moment.

Mickey settled back against Ian’s chest again, and felt Ian press a kiss to the top of his head. He smiled contentedly, closing his heavy eyelids.

Maybe being a couple of sappy motherfuckers wasn’t so bad.

#i wrote this so fast bc it is midterms szn and i am a busy bee! but simply needed to get this out of my brain #i love y’all and hope u enjoy the softness!!#also @ the anon asked me for more drunk happy husbands here u go<3 #gallavich #gallavich fic #shameless #shameless fic #ian x mickey #ixm #ian and mickey #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #gallavich fanfiction

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anactualcaseofthetruth · 3 years ago

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Friends Can Break Your Heart Too - Chapter 5 < ao3 link

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Chapter 1 / ao3

Chapter 2 / ao3

Chapter 3 / ao3

Chapter 4 / ao3

Story summary: Mia Flores flees to Santo Padre for one reason and one reason only: her godfather and the man who raised her, Bishop Losa. The last thing she expects is for Angel Reyes to come into her chaotic life and just maybe be the one thing that starts to make sense.

Chapter summary: Bishop gives Mia a talk then Mia and Angel have some fun.

Rated: SMUT. Sex, oral, cream pie, all that good stuff.

A/N: Esai Alvarez in this story is played by Manny Montana with Rio from Good Girls tats! Just a reminder!

Chapter 5:

“Mija?” Mia hears Bishop’s voice travel up the stairs to the bathroom where she’s finishing getting ready for a party at the clubhouse. The boys just got a big payday and that usually means a fun night.

“Bathroom!” she calls back while touching up her mascara, not at all surprised Bishop is the one to pick her up today. Angel was very clear in his text this morning the reason he wasn’t climbing into bed with her was because her godfather mentioned he planned on stopping by. Angel also mentioned that he was tired as fuck and couldn’t wait to see her later.

It doesn’t surprise her that Bishop wants to see her, he always wants to touch base after being gone on a run, and him and the boys did two back-to-back over the last week and a half, with only being home one day in between.

What does surprise her was that Angel texts her when they are on runs. It isn’t frequent, of course, but it is at least once a day, sometimes more if possible. He doesn’t say much, just that everything is going good and everyone is whole, but just the fact that he even tries means the world to her.

Most the time with Esai, Mia didn’t know he was home until she woke up and found him in bed with her, or passed out on the couch, or heard from Bishop that they were home and wanted to get lunch or dinner or something. It was rare for Esai to text her daily on runs—maybe when they first got together or if something particularly shitty was going on with her mom. She got maybe one or two texts over a five-day period, if that.

She hears Bishop making his way through the shopping bags that litter her bedroom floor. “Nice to see you’re spending your money wisely,” he comments.

“You’re the one who said you wouldn’t take anything from me for the first three months,” Mia counters while twisting the mascara closed and giving her face a last once over. “I tried to give you more than half my paycheck because I know I owe you, but you—”

“I know, I know, I’m just fucking with you,” Bishop stops her with a chuckle as he leans on the doorjamb leading to the bathroom. “You’re only doing what I want you to do—rebuild your life. I’m glad you’re making yourself at home, or at least,” his eyes flick back to the mess on her floor, “making a few businesses happy. Took a trip to El Centro?”

“That’s where Letty said the good mall is, and some pretty awesome boutiques. She wasn’t wrong,” Mia answers with a shrug. “I got her a few things too, and I’m not letting Coco pay me back, just letting you know.”

“That’s his fight, not mine,” he responds with hands up in surrender and they both smile at one another. “You look… good,” he settles on after looking her up and down a moment later.

She’s wearing a new pair of Army green cargo pants that hug her ass and thighs but are baggy at her feet. It’s matched with a dusty rose top laced up through her breasts, showing skin the whole way, but has long flowy sleeves. She isn’t wearing a bra, of course, that would throw off the whole look, but is covered up enough that Bishop won’t say anything, even if his eyes do. It should elicit a different reaction out of Angel though.

“I know,” she replies, and he chuckles again, having learned long ago that fighting about her clothes was a losing battle. “Everything went good this week? No problems?” she asks while passing him on her way out of the bathroom and starts digging through the bags for her brand new white Nikes.

Of course, she knows all went well—Angel had told her so, but Bishop doesn’t know that.

“All the drops went good, prisons up the coast and in AZ are flush with enough H to keep our brothers inside on top, and the other charters are making their deliveries,” he informs her.

“And the Chinese? I know their order was a surprise, but it seemed like you all had it handled,” she says while slipping the Air Force 1s on and smiling down at her splurge. Her godfather’s right, it’s nice to have more than a handful of things to call her own again.

“We’re a well-oiled machine,” Bishop assures her and at this Mia chortles.

“You’re definitely a well-intoxicated one,” she jokes, and they laugh once more. “I’m glad everything went well, Bop. You guys deserve this party tonight, you’ve been working your asses off lately.”

“Like we need a reason to party,” he comments, and she grins. “But a big payday does always make the boys more agreeable, and that I’m a fan of.”

“I’m sure you are. I’m ready to go if you are,” she says and slips her phone in her pocket, the only thing she’ll need for the night.

“You, uh, don’t seem surprised I’m here,” Bishop mentions.

“We usually get together when you get home,” she reminds him. “I figured we’d be doing something. It’s past lunch, so dinner,” she adds on with a shrug. “And I’m paying by the way, no buts.”

“Yeah, that ain’t happenin’,” her godfather states easily. “But, uh, wanted to check in, see how you’re doing now that you’re settling in at the job and the house, you know,” he goes on while taking a seat on her bed.

Realization washes over her. He’s not here for their normal post-run hang out, and this whole ‘check in’ shit is just that—shit. He knows how she’s doing with the job and the house, they talk every day, and before she started at the clinic he saw her everyday because she was making money at the clubhouse or scrap yard.

This isn’t just ‘checking in’. He wants to have a conversation about something particular but doesn’t know how to start it.

“I’m having flashbacks to my quinceanera, when you spent an hour talking about how I was about to become a woman,” she mumbles while taking a seat next to him, “but what you really wanted to know was if I was still a virgin because you knew Esai was about to ask me to be his girlfriend and you worried that he was going to deflower me that very night.”

“Did he?” he asks, and Mia looks at him with a raised eyebrow.

“That is none of your business, but no, he did not,” she appeases him, which isn’t a lie.

Technically, because she wasn’t a virgin that night, so when she had sex with Esai after her party she wasn’t deflowered. Not that he needs to know about that, there are some things her father doesn’t need to know. Esai was her first, but she isn’t fan of the word ‘deflower’ nor is she interested in talking to Bishop about the concept of virginity. No man’s dick is important enough to change any part of her identity.

“Good, good,” Bishop murmurs and nods. “My warnings didn’t stop you from slow dancing with him at every chance that night, though.”

“Bop,” Mia sighs and crosses her legs, “why don’t we do what we didn’t manage then? Just ask me what you want to know or tell me whatever it is you want to say, because it took me a good year to realize what you wanted from me during that long, excruciating talk before my party started.”

“I thought I was pretty clear about how decisions you made that night could affect you for the rest of your life, and how you needed to protect yourself, and do what you thought was right,” he replies.

“I was fifteen, Bop,” she reminds him. “Besides that, I knew Esai was going to officially ask me out, so I had a little more on my mind than figuring out what you were actually trying to tell me,” she goes on. “Plus, I was dreading what you all would say during your speeches, which I was right to because it was another hour of men talking about my virginity without actually talking about it and I was mortified,” she says then remembers that this isn’t the conversation her godfather wants to have. “What is on your mind, Bop?”

“Look,” he starts and leans forward onto his knees, his hands clasped together between them. “I know this shit ain’t my business, that we try to stay out of each other’s personal lives, but if it involves my club and one of my guys, I should at least know what’s going on.”

“What are you talking about?” Mia asks as dread trickles down her spine, not sure exactly how dumb to play. She doesn’t want to give away information he doesn’t know while he’s fishing for whatever it is he wants to know, you know?

Bishop continues, “I know these guys, Mia. I know them, I know their habits, their routines, and I know when something is off with one of them. They are my family just as much as you are, I’d die for them, and they’d do the same for me.”

“That’s morbid, but sweet,” she comments innocently.

“I’m being serious, Mia,” Bishop says, his voice booming. “I need you to be honest with me.”

“Then ask me what you want to know instead of trying to trick me into saying something,” she responds, her tone now just as serious.

“When we’re on runs and we’ve reached our drop point and we’re bone tired, we spend the night,” he starts. “But, boys being boys, they don’t always spend their time sleeping, if you know what I mean, and Angel is no exception.”

Mia’s stomach sinks. Does Bishop think she’s dating Angel and trying to tell her he slept with someone else on their run?

Sure, she and Angel aren’t together, but they agreed while they are hooking up to only hook up with each other. Then again, with the clinic opening she’s done little more than eat, sleep, work and repeat in the last two weeks. Maybe since she’s been too busy and tired for sex lately, he started to look elsewhere. After all, that’s what Esai used to do—get his needs met when on a run. It meant she was less likely to run into whoever he cheated with, and it also meant it was with a girl who knew better than to expect anything more from him.

“Okay,” Mia manages after a minute, not sure what else to say, and not sure why her chest feels like an open wound. It’s not the first time the guy she’s sleeping with stepped out on her when on a run.

So, Angel broke their deal, she doesn’t know what Bishop has to do with it, especially since he wasn’t supposed to know they were sleeping together in the first place. If he thinks they are dating does he think Angel just cheated on her? He always stayed out of her and Esai’s relationship—that is, until she brought him into it because she was a stupid, heartbroken kid who wanted her dad on her side, not caring what position it put him in with the club.

“I don’t know what you want from me, Bop,” she murmurs. “You know the rules, what happens on a run stays on a run, and I don’t know what this has to do with me.”

“I want you to tell me the truth about what’s going on with you and Angel, Mia,” he insists as he turns his face to look her in the eye. “I wanna know if you’re the reason why the guy who never makes the smart move and chooses to sleep on a run actually has done just that ever since you moved here.”

Oh. “Oh,” she mumbles and thinks of what to say as warmth blooms in her chest and she fights the urge to smile. He didn’t cheat on her!

Well, of course he didn’t, because they aren’t dating. He’s just the best friend she’s sleeping with.

“I know you two are close, and at the first I thought it was just him actually being tired, but it’s been months and—”

“Angel and I aren’t together,” she cuts him off quickly. “If we were, I would have told you,” she assures him. “That’s not something I would keep from you. I know what being with a guy in the club means, the power it holds, and the weakness it can be. I wouldn’t keep it a secret from you. Angel and I, we aren’t doing anything like that.”

“You sure about that?” he asks with a look of disbelief on his face.

“Yes. We’re sleeping together, that’s it,” Mia admits because there is no point in hiding it now.

They haven’t exactly been discreet. The boys know, Letty almost walked in on them, it’s only been two weeks and a few of the girls at the clinic are already whispering about him. Besides, Bishop’s too smart to think they are just friends; he knows the both of them too well.

“And we’re friends. Good friends, more like best friends, even though that makes us sound twelve,” she mumbles as an afterthought. “We can talk to each other, no bullshit, and he makes me laugh, but we’re just friends, I promise.”

“Friends,” Bishop repeats and then barks out a laugh.

“We are!” Mia insists. “I’m not fucking with you.”

He stands from the bed, a hand attempting to stifle his laughter. “No, no, I know you’re not. I know you believe you’re friends, that’s what makes this funny.”

“Bop!”

“You know, I was friends with your mother once,” he says.

“Ew! No, we’re not—this is not the same thing,” she tells him, standing so she can look him in the eye.

“Your dad was friends with her too,” he goes on.

“Enough, can we go now, please? You got the information you wanted, I’ve been adequately traumatized, I think we’re done here.”

“Yeah, yeah, we can go. Just, be safe, will ya?” he pleads, his eyes much softer now.

Mia groans. “We went over this before my quinceanera too, Bop. I know how to use a condom and have my end taken care of—”

“That’s not what I’m talking about,” her godfather cuts her off. “I mean, I’m glad you’re using protection, but I’m talking about this,” he said and jabs a finger at her chest. “Your heart doesn’t give a fuck what’s going on up here,” he says and now points at her temple. “You have control over a lot in life, what you wanna do, where you wanna live, the stuff you wear and how you show yourself to the world, but your heart? That fucker you don’t have much control of, and it’ll get you every time, trust me. So, you protect it any way you can, you hear me?”

Mia nods and bites her lip. “I hear you, Bop,” she assures him. “But you see what you just said, that’s what you should have told me before my quinceanera,” she says. “That is the straightforward kind of shit a fifteen-year-old needs to hear.”

Bishop grins and leans forward to kiss her forehead. “Shut up and get on my bike, will ya?”

“Sure thing, Papa,” she answers and leads the way down the steps and out the door, completely missing the look on Bishop’s face at her calling him dad, even if only in passing. If she had, she probably wouldn’t be calling him just ‘Bop’ much longer. “But I’m still paying for dinner!” she calls over her shoulder, not caring to listen to his response because she isn’t going to fold on this one.

Hours later Mia tilts her neck to the side, giving Angel room to continue his hot kisses, her eyes trying to focus on the fire in front of them, but everything is getting hazy. “I’m starting to think I shouldn’t have told you,” she murmurs, hoping he thinks her low tone is because she’s trying to be quiet, not because she’s breathless.

“What you mean?” he wonders, his lips now at her ear, his teeth teasing at her lobe.

“You wouldn’t be torturing me like this if I hadn’t told you Bishop knows,” she moans and pulls away when he hits a particularly sensitive spot. “We need to stop. I told you we have to be respectful when he’s around.”

“Baby, this isn’t disrespectful,” he insists, his hands now playing with the lace strings at the front of her top. “If you want to see what that looks like though…” he says and tugs on the knot.

“Angel!” she gasps and slaps his hand away. “Be good.”

He grins and pulls away, leaving an arm around her shoulders and leans back in their bench seat. It’s the backseat of what probably was some kind of station wagon that the boys pulled out of the scrapyard. It fits three, and since they are so low to the ground Angel’s legs are spread out in front of them, otherwise they’d be touching his chest.

“Fuck, it feels good to be home for more than 12 fucking hours,” he sighs while scooting down the seat even more so his head can rest on her shoulders. “Feels even better to know I get to spend tomorrow doin’ nothing but you.”

At this, Mia laughs, and it’s full and hearty. “As long as you make it worth my time,” she comments. “I do only get one full weekend off a month, you know?”

“Mi dulce, have I ever not left you shaking uncontrollably on my cock?” Angel questions while lighting a cigarette, his actions very nonchalant after the sentence he just dropped.

“Hey, there’s a first time for everything,” she teases him.

He shakes his head at her. “Keep talkin’ shit, we’ll see how tough you are later,” he warns as he decides he isn’t comfortable enough and moves so his head is in her lap, his legs taking up the rest of their seat.

“Ooh, I’m scared,” she sing-songs.

“Better be,” he insists as smoke escapes his lips. “I just spent the last week on the road with dudes, busy as fuck, and without tasting my girl for sixteen days because of her job. I have needs, querida.”

Mia rolls her lips together to keep from laughing. “My poor little drug smuggler,” she coos. “Did you have a tough time partying in Oregon?”

“Yeah, fucking right. It always turns into a pissing match up there,” Angel grumbles. “They are the biggest charter next to Oakland, so they think they got bigger balls than the rest of us. The rest of ‘em forget they wouldn’t have any H if it wasn’t for Santo Padre risking our asses in the tunnels, over the border, and riding it up the fucking coast.”

“I’m sure you guys didn’t have a problem reminding them,” she comments with a hand carding through his hair.

“Didn’t have to,” he replies, “E did it for us. He’s still new to the prez patch, so he’s making sure everyone knows their places, that even though his pop isn’t the president of Oakland anymore doesn’t mean they aren’t in control.”

Mia’s movements stumble. “E? E—Esai was there?”

“Yeah. He likes to make himself known on big hauls, says he’s getting his hands dirty too, not just getting rich off our work,” Angel tells her. “Earns a lot of respect that way, and he gets to know everyone, even prospects.”

She nods, her eyes studying the orange glow. “He does have a way of making everyone feel special,” she mumbles. “Did he… did he, um, ask about me?”

Angel inhales deeply. “Asked Bish,” he says with smoke leaking from his mouth.

“What did he say?”

“I don’t know, they were walking away, wasn’t my business to listen,” he reminds her.

“Not your business?” Mia demands. “I’m—we’re best friends, it’s your business if I say it is and it is.”

“Oookay?” Angel says with his voice on the verge of laughter. “What did you want me to say?” he asks while flicking his butt into the fire. “’Wassup bro, you know the only girl you said you’d ever love? Well, I’m fucking her regularly. She says hi’?”

Mia shrugs. “You coulda gone without ‘the only girl you’d ever love’ part, I feel like that’s a little blow the belt,” she offers, and he chuckles.

“You’re alright with the ‘fucking her regularly’ part then?”

“I mean,” she starts with another shrug, “I’ve heard enough about his exploits, he can hear some of mine.”

Angel takes her free hand and links it through his. “You miss him. Just call him, querida.”

“He didn’t talk to you at all?” she asks, ignoring him, and his suggestion, as she does every time she thinks of it herself.

“We spoke, I guess? Said hi, asked how shit was, I said good, asked how his shit was, he said good, we laughed at something dumb Pac said—”

“Pac was there?” Mia questions, her voice sad as it tapers off. “Of course, Pac was there, he’s Esai's El Pacificador,” she mumbles to herself. “What’d you laugh at him for?” she demands with a punch to the chest with their connected hands.

“Ow! Nothin’! It was a joke. We weren’t laughing at him, geez,” Angel defends.

“Pac’s the fuckin’ best, he was always being made fun of by assholes when we were kids, but… he did it on purpose. That way they weren’t teasing anyone else,” she tells him. “Then Esai came around and a fight would break out. I was the look out,” she says with both nostalgia and pride splashed across her face. “We were the three musketeers.”

“Did that extend to when you and E started dating—stop fuckin’ hitting me!” he exclaims in a laugh.

“No, it did not,” she answers anyways. “But Pac felt left out so I’d make sure to plan stuff with the three of us,” she goes on. “He used to get upset because girls were afraid to date him knowing if they hurt him I’d fuck them up.”

Angel stares up at her and licks his lips. “Call them, baby, I know you miss them.”

“It’s not that easy—”

“It is. Especially with Paco, you think he’s gonna bring up what happened? He’s just gonna be happy to talk to you. He’s like a fuckin’ puppy with a gun.”

At this, Mia laughs. “You’re not wrong, but if I talk to Paco, he’s gonna tell Esai and—”

“So fucking call them both,” he cuts her off again. “Esai’s fucked you over enough times that he definitely owes you one. Call, you don’t have to say you’re sorry or explain shit if you don’t want to. If he’s fuckin’ smart he’ll just pick up wherever you left off.”

“Owes me more like a hundred and one,” she mumbles. “I’ll think about it, okay?”

“Alright,” he replies easily.

“That’s… that’s it? You’re not gonna keep pushing me or tell me I should do it or anything?” she wonders.

Angel sits up and gives her a shrug, “Ain’t my place. I said my part. I think you should reach out. You’ve never given Esai your new number, so he can’t do it. If you want me or Bish to pass your number along, just say so. Otherwise, it’s on you.”

Mia leans forward and presses a kiss to his lips. “You’re cute, osito,” she whispers.

“Don’t spread it around,” he murmurs, then kisses her again.

“Imma spread something later,” she says and Angel chuckles against her lips. “That sounded better in my head,” she admits and drops her head to his chest.

“To be fair, I didn’t think we were spreading mulch around,” he replies while wrapping his arms around her shoulders. “Fuck, that reminds me, I told Bish I’d cut your grass tomorrow.”

“You just volunteered for this?” she asks as she lifts her head enough to look him in the eye.

“He was about to make EZ do it, and I didn’t want him at the house—I’m tryna keep you naked most the day tomorrow—so I said I’d do it, that I was dropping by anyways,” Angel explains. “Now that he knows we’re fucking he knows that was a lie, but,” he stops with a shrug. “Imma still do it.”

“You’re trying to keep me naked tomorrow, huh?” she says with a smile. “Then how am I gonna give you a beer dressed in a tiny bikini top and my shortest shorts while you mow the lawn?”

Angel pulls her by the back of her neck until they are kissing. “That ain’t happenin’ unless you want me to take you right there in the grass.”

“Only if you’re on the bottom,” Mia counters, “I feel like grass would rub in a bad way, you know?”

He laughs as he drops his head to her shoulder. “So, you want my ass on fire?”

“Better than mine!” she replies. “And you get to stare at my boobs, so no complaining.”

“Never,” he murmurs, about to go into another kiss when they are interrupted.

“Either of you need a beer?” they hear over their heads and look up to find EZ.

“If we fucking did you look real empty handed,” Angel tells his brother, then grimaces when Mia smacks him once again. “Fucking stop that,” he mutters and rubs his chest. “It’s the same spot every fucking time.”

“No, we’re good Ezekiel, thank you,” Mia answers for them after a pointed look at his older brother.

“We are?” Angel asks with crinkled eyebrows.

“If you plan on driving me home, yeah,” she tells him and he pouts, but doesn’t speak up because he knows its code leaving soon.

He does, however, stand up. “Alright, if we’re heading out I gotta take a piss,” he says, taking her hint. “You should too, you know, for what I got planned for you,” he says while sending a wink Mia’s way before sauntering off.

“You know,” EZ starts while plopping down next to her. “He’s heading into the clubhouse like he hasn’t whipped it out in front of us all week on the road.”

“Yeah, most the girls have probably seen it too,” Mia agrees, and EZ laughs in agreement. “Woulda saved him a trip.”

EZ looks to see his brother disappear into the clubhouse. “Look, I, uh, wanted to talk to you real quick before Angel comes back.”

“Should I be nervous about this?” she asks, racking her brain for something EZ would need to talk to her about, but comes up with nothing.

“No, I just—” he stops and lifts his butt up as he reaches for his wallet. “When we were teenagers, Angel was real into art. He was really good at it too, it was something he and our mom did together.”

Mia nods, not wanting to tell him she already knew this, but is intrigued all the same. What could he have to tell her?

“But, uh, back then he doodled on everything. It drove our parents nuts. It would be all over the mail, the newspaper, his homework, everything,” he goes on. “He, uh, he stopped when Mom died, and as far as I knew he hadn’t gotten back into it,” he stops and looks to make sure Angel isn’t on his way back yet. “But, uh, before we left the motel at one of our stops, the guys made me go in to check the rooms, to make sure we didn’t leave anything. I saw this and took it without thinking,” he says and pulls a folded piece of paper from the wallet to hand to her.

She opens it with eyes crinkled to find a sketch of her done in pen.

“When I looked at it closer later I thought you should have it,” he finishes.

“I… um,” she stutters, her eyes glued to the paper. It’s only from her shoulders up, and it is rough, but undoubtedly her.

“You’ve brought out a part of my brother Pop and I haven’t seen in over eight years,” EZ tells her as she studies the sketch. “He’s not as angry or closed off. He actually even mentioned our mom the other day and we never talk about her.”

“EZ, I—”

“You don’t have to say anything, Mia. I know you guys are just friends, but I know that my brother feeling lighter, and it’s all because of you. I just wanted to thank you and give you this. It’s of you, so you should have it,” he insists.

“Thanks,” she murmurs while refolding it and putting it in her pocket. “He’s my best friend, the best I’ve ever had.”

“You’re the best he’s ever had too,” EZ tells her and stands, then offers her a hand. “Just don’t tell Coco, a fight might break out.”

Mia shrugs as he helps her up. “I don’t know, I think I could take him, he’s small, you know, and I have training.”

“I’d pay to see that,” he replies and they are laughing when Angel comes back.

“Aye, get your own girl best friend,” Angel jokes while slipping both arms around her shoulders from behind, making his little brother shake his head and walk away. “You ready to go?”

“I don’t know, but I am ready to cum,” she says then laughs at her own stupidity.

Angel turns her around and looks at her as if embarrassed for her before shrugging and lifting her over his shoulder.

“Ah! Angel!” she laughs with hands on his hips to steady herself as he heads for his bike.

“I’m just giving you what you want, mi dulce,” he insists. “Better yell bye to Bish, you’re gonna be busy for the rest of the weekend.”

Mia tries to take in her surroundings between the strips of hair blocking her vision, looking for her godfather in the upside-down masses. When she can’t find him, she just takes Angel’s advice. “Bye, Bop! I’ll call you tomorrow!” she shouts and the people around her laugh, Angel included.

“Alright, be safe!” she hears and raises a hand in acknowledgement at his double-edged meaning, but he has nothing to worry about. She’s on the pill and while Angel is in her heart, it’s not in a bad way, a way that would end in heartbreak like all her relationships do. He’s just her friend because anything more would fuck everything up and she isn’t going to let that happen.

Angel is too important.

It had just been a joke the day before, a flippant comment.

Mia had no real intention of putting on a bikini and teasing Angel as he mowed the grass, but—well, she did just buy one and it is hot outside and Angel isn’t one to turn down a beer, ever.

Him outside in a light pair of gray sweatpants and t-shirt with the sleeves rolled up didn’t help, his skin glistening in the California sun, hair free of its usual gel and so blowing gently in the breeze, and those dark shades on his face—it’s enough to make any girl weak in the knees.

Seconds later she’s running up the steps and digging through her shopping bags searching for the bikini Letty insisted she buy the day before. It’s a warm yellow with long strings that wrap and crisscross underneath her breasts before tying at her back. Instead of matching it with the bottoms, she jumps into her shortest black shorts that barely cover the slope of her ass. She throws her hair up into a messy bun before putting on some lotion, so her skin is extra soft and glowy, and envelopes her in a flowery smell, which she knows Angel is a sucker for.

Mia takes a beer from the fridge, cursing him for not buying twist offs as she searches for a bottle opener just as the lawnmower cuts off.

“Fuck!” she curses and decides to forget about opening it. If Angel actually decides to drink the beer while she’s wearing this they are going to share loud words.

She opens the door to the backyard to find Angel on his knees, his hands on the lawnmower, looking at something. He doesn’t look at her as pushes his sunglasses up into his hair before reaching for his phone and, she guesses, sends a text.

“I ran out of gas,” he calls over, his eyes trained on the cell phone screen. “Do you know if Bish keeps a gas can around?”

“No idea,” she answers while patiently waiting for him to look up.

“He doesn’t,” Angel confirms as he stands, his thumbs flying over the screen with a look of annoyance on his face. “He’s gonna send Creep with a gas can in a little bit, what’re you—” he stops as he finally lays eyes on her.

“I thought you might be thirsty,” she says innocently and holds the beer out, but makes no move to get closer.

His eyes look her up and down. “Are you fucking kidding me?” he asks with no heat.

“What’re you talking about?” she questions and shakes the beer a little. “Do you want the beer or not?”

“Fuck no,” Angel answers. “But if you don’t get in the house right now we’re gonna find out if grass really does burn.”

Mia drops the bottle when Angel starts after her, and she shrieks with laughter. He catches up with her in the living room, grabbing her around the middle and lifting her off her feet.

“You think it’s funny to tease me, hm?” he asks in her ear, his hands splayed across her abdomen now.

“You were teasing me first,” she counters and bites her lip as his hands attempt to feel every inch of her. “Wearing those sweatpants low and showing off your arms. I’m only being fair.”

“You think this is me teasing?” Angel demands of her as he makes his way to the couch, pushing her down onto it. “Nah, I’ll show you how I tease, baby,” he warns before getting on his knees.

In retrospect, she should have known Angel would take this as some sort of challenge. He always does, even if they are just playing around.

Later, she might think he does it as a way to prove himself, even if subconsciously, to show he can do anything she puts him up to because his parents never expected anything out of him the way they did EZ.

But now, as his buries his face between her legs, the psychology of it is far from her mind. Except maybe her own, how she’s a glutton for punishment, but instead of falling into old habits of shitty boyfriends she does this. It’s a healthier outlet, that’s for sure.

“Angel, baby, please,” she pleads when he pulls away after edging her for the third time.

“You think you deserve to cum, mi dulce?” he asks as he wipes her wetness from his beard and starts to leave wet kisses up her stomach and chest.

“Yes,” she breathes and gasps when he nips at her nipple after having pushed aside the cup of her bikini.

“But you haven’t been good,” he tells her before switching to her other breast, teeth scraping and tongue swirling, making her moan and mewl. A moment later he slips two fingers inside her and she sighs at the feeling of something filling her up, even if it’s not as big and thick as what she’s craving.

“I—I have,” she stutters out as she cradles his face in her hands.

“You think?” he asks and his fingers crook inside her just right making her tremble.

Mia nods. “Please, I want to cum for you,” she whispers and pushes her forehead against his. “Angel, let me show you I can be good.”

He smiles at her, it’s easy and carefree makes her heart skip a beat. “Do as I say and I’ll let you cum as much as you want, okay?” he starts and she nods up and down over and over until he starts rubbing slow circle on her clit as his long fingers slip in and out of her. “Say it.”

“I’ll do as you say,” she moans, her eyes struggling to stay trained on his.

“That’s my girl,” he murmurs with a quick kiss. “You’re not going to cum on my fingers or my mouth, you’re not allowed to,” he tells her, and she wants to whine, but knows it won’t help her case. “Soon, I’m gonna get on the couch and you’re gonna ride my dick,” he says, and she nods once more, this time appreciatively. “And you’re gonna cum as much as you can when I’m inside you. I wanna feel you cum on my cock, you hear me? I want to feel every single one of ‘em. I want you to cover my cock in your cream.”

“Yes, yes, okay,” Mia agrees with her hands threaded into Angel’s hair.

“Then, when I think you’re done, you’re gonna get on your knees just like I am now and lick it all off me until I cum down the back of your throat,” he finishes.

“Yes, please. Angel, yes,” she pleads and pulls on his shirt in an attempt to get him on the couch, but all it does is make Angel remove his shirt entirely.

“Oh, baby girl,” he says with a lick of his lips. “I said ‘soon’ we’re gonna do all that, remember? I’m not done tasting you,” he tells her. “Until last night I went sixteen days without this, and I hated it,” he mumbles as his fingers start to play with her slit again.

Mia just closes her eyes and enjoys the feel of his fingers inside her, playing with her, torturing her.

“You’re so fucking wet for me, baby,” he mumbles against her skin. “Look at me,” he orders, and she forces her eyes open, but her eyelids remain heavy. “Feel with me,” he says, his voice much softer now, and takes her hand in his and brings it down to her opening. “Put your fingers in.”

She does as she’s told and her much smaller fingers slide in with no resistance, coating her skin in her slick juices. She moans at the feeling, but it’s nothing compared to Angel’s long fingers, and not even close to his thick dick.

“I want you,” Mia whimpers as Angel guides her fingers in and out of her. “Not me, I want—”

“I know,” Angel cuts her off. “Here, see why yours is my favorite,” he insists and brings her wet fingers to her mouth to taste. She opens for him and he smiles. “Good girl,” he murmurs as her lips close around her own fingers.

“Mm,” she moans at her taste and Angel smiles at her.

He leans down and takes a swipe up her slit and mimics her ‘mm’ before getting up on the couch and shucking his sweatpants off. “C’mere, baby,” he offers, and she jumps at the chance to swing a leg over his hips and settles down on his dick. “Fuck, I missed you,” he sighs as she sinks down on him. “I know I said it last night, but it’s fucking true,” he insists with his hands on her hips.

“I missed you too,” she replies as she starts to move frantically on top of him, chasing the release he’s been keeping from her. Her arms wrap around his shoulders for leverage, and she leans her head to rest against his. “Please, please, please,” she chants as she practically impales herself on his cock.

“C’mon, you can do it. I wanna feel the way you shake around me,” he says and it’s like a switch goes off inside her and she does exactly as he says.

She cums and her body shakes as her pussy trembles around him, but rather than let her come down Angel starts bucking his hips up inside her. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she swears and buries her face in his neck as she comes again, not as strongly, but it still makes Angel cuss as she clamps down around him.

Mia’s still trembling when Angel shifts to lie down on the couch, his hands undoing the knot at her back so her bikini becomes slack. He slips it over her head and tosses it to the side before lifting her chin to look at him. “You done already, mi dulce?” he asks while pulling at the back of her knees so he’s even deeper inside her.

She moans, but shakes her head.

“You sure?” he wonders with a thumb circling her clit. “All you gotta do is tap out and get on your knees to finish this, baby.”

“I’m not done,” Mia says once she composes herself, then with a twinkle in her eye stands, hating how empty she feels, even if for only a moment, before turning around and settling back down on him in reverse cowgirl, knowing it’s one of his favorite positions.

“Yes,” Angel groans in pleasure, his hips bucking to get deeper inside her.

She leans forward with hands on her knees and gets her hips going, throwing her head back as she grinds down on top of him. Suddenly, she feels a tug at her scalp, and she’s pulled back against Angel’s chest, her back arched perfectly in the air.

With one hand in her hair, Angel uses his other to reach around and rubs his fingers into her swollen clit. “Where am I, baby?” he asks in her ear, his voice low and full of gravel.

“My stomach, holy shit,” she cries and cums, this time feeling a gush and she knows she’s creaming his dick like he wanted, and it only makes her hips move faster. “One more, one more, please,” she pleads with both Angel and herself.

Angel lets her hair go and both arms move to pull at the back of her knees so she’s folded in half, lifting her in the air as his hips buck up into her pussy. “You’re so fucking tight, baby girl,” he says with each plunge inside her.

Mia completely let’s go, letting Angel take the lead and relaxes the best she can in his arms, her pussy clenching on his cock as she readies to cum.

“Go, go, go,” he chants, and she does with a spasm, her whole body shaking as it does when Angel is deep inside her, pleasuring her over and over again.

She hears him grunt behind her and knows he’s painfully close, he has to be.

When he puts her down, she doesn’t hesitate. It takes all the energy she has left to get off him and turn on her knees, doing as she’s told and takes all of him in her mouth in one go.

“Fuck,” he swears with fingers threaded into her hair so she doesn’t move. “You taste yourself on my dick, querida?” he asks, and she nods as her head bobs. “Suck it all off, baby.”

It’s not even a minute later that Angel is emptying himself down the back of her throat as promised. She opens her throat and takes everything he gives her, swallowing his white heat.

When she lets him go with a pop, she finds his face looking completely blissed out as she wipes her lips.

“Wanna know a secret?” she asks while lowering herself on top of him, his arms automatically wrapping around her, holding their sweat slicked bodies close.

“Mhm,” he murmurs with fingers carding through her hair.

“Your dick is my favorite too,” she admits and hears him chuckle against her hairline.

Before her can respond they hear the loud roar of a motorcycle pulling up. “Fuck, that’s Creep with the gas,” Angel groans and flips so she slides down the side of him onto the couch.

“Have fun finishing the grass,” Mia sighs and feels a blanket being placed over her, making her smile.

“You think you’re real funny, huh?” he asks while hopping into his shorts.

Mia shrugs, then squeals when he tickles her side.

“Aye, Angel, you in there?” they hear as the door starts to open.

“Yeah!” her best friend exclaims and runs for the door before Creeper can come in. “Lemme take you ‘round back,” he says and stops the other Mayan from coming in.

Mia just smiles against her blanket thinking she’s a lucky girl. She’s got a best friend who can fuck her then get up and cut her grass. He’s definitely a keeper.

Taglist:

@joalsglasses @mrsamaroevans @justahopelessssromantic @mrsjaxtellerfan @rosieposie0624 @starrynite7114 @proudlittlewitchbitch @luckyharley1903 @miss-nori85 @thesandbeneathmytoes @jasminee97 @jakiki94 @superhoeva

IF YOU WANT ADDED TO THE TAG LIST LET ME KNOW!

#mayans mc #fanfiction #angel reyes x oc #angel reyes x mia flores #friends can break your heart too #chapter 5 #mayans smut

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sylvies-chen · 3 years ago

Note

Prompt 70 for Brettsey 😍

If you can I would love a story involving Brett and Casey with one of their kids !!

Can't wait to read this

You're in luck because I'm in a big Brettsey + kids mood today (although let's be real, when am I not?) Also sidenote: I'm lowkey terrible at naming character's kids but let me know if it fits!

70. “I can’t do this on my own.”

"Daddy!"

Matt hears his daughter's frustrated call for her dad from the first floor and immediately stops what he's doing. Sure enough, when he gets to the stairwell, he sees Eleanor Casey, huddled over and fussing with her shoelaces.

Oh boy. He already knows where this is going.

Ellie's eight now and still doesn't know how to tie her shoelaces. Matt doesn't think it's that big of a deal-- getting the hang of it takes a little time, something she has plenty of since she's so young. But Ellie, for the past few weeks, has been letting it get to her more than usual. He and Sylvie have both been trying to guide her through it, to somehow make the steps simpler for her, but their daughter is as stubborn as she is kind. She gets that from both him and Sylvie, Matt thinks.

"What's wrong, do you need a hand?"

Ellie pouts, sticking out her trembling bottom lip as she crosses her arms. "My shoelaces won't do the thing," she explains defeatedly, her shoulders slumped. "This sucks."

Matt has to fight back a little chuckle at that. It's funny to him but he sometimes forgets that for Ellie, that's big language.

"Woah, now don't get so down on yourself quite yet, sweetie," Matt soothes her. "It'll be okay."

"No, it wont," she whines frustratedly. "Harper can tie her own shoelaces, and all the other kids in my class can too."

"Well Harper's a year older than you," he points out. "Auntie Stella and Uncle Sev taught her extra good."

"Well why can't you and Mommy teach me extra good? I can't do this on my own," she pouts again.

"We are teaching you," he promises her. "It just takes a little time to get the hang of it, El."

"Mommy lost her keys and can't help me right now, will you tie them for me instead?"

The young girl looks up at him with big, pleading eyes. She's mastered the same puppy dog eyes that Sylvie gets when she wants something. When it's matched with his daughter's tiny blonde braids and rosy cheeks, it makes for a pretty irresistible sight.

Well, almost irresistible.

"Why don't I help you figure it out? That way, you can do it yourself next time without help from Mommy or Daddy," he tells her gently, moving to the bottom of the stairs and getting on one knee. Ellie sits on the second step and even then, she just barely meets Matt's eye as she extends her left foot and shows him her bright pink, sparkly Sketcher shoe.

"Ok," she nods vigorously. "What do we do first?"

"We're going to take both laces," he starts, his hands guiding hers towards both end of the lace as she picks them up, "and now we're going to make a little X shape."

His hands stay hovering over hers, always guiding her gently as she follows his steps. Her shoulders relax slightly and stop slumping with each second he helps her with it.

"Now, we're going to put that guy under and pull. Think we can do that?"

"Well duh," she giggles amusedly, her teeth clenching her tongue gently as she flashes him a cheeky look. Their hands keep moving through the motions, pulling the lace through. "We did it!"

"We did, you're right," he beams. "Now we're going to make two little bunny ears and do the same thing with those. Okay?"

"Okay," she nods, her brows furrowing in concentration as their four hands keep moving. He makes one as she makes the other but after he hands her the second bunny ear, he gradually moves his hands away. She doesn't seem to notice, just keeps going by herself.

One of the loops is pulled down and under the other, then she yanks it tight and stares at her shoe in victory. Ellie's eyes go wide with excitement as she looks up at Matt with the biggest smile on her face. "We did it, Daddy! We really did it!"

"You did it, kiddo," he tells her. "I let go after the bunny ears were made."

"You wh--" Ellie looks down at her shoe, then back up at her Dad. For a minute, he thinks she's going to be upset, but a smile spreads over her face again. "Oh my gosh! Daddy, I did it on my own!"

Matt laughs at that, a true and joyful laugh that's pretty much only able to be caused by Eleanor, Sylvie, and on occasion, Severide. He might be extremely biased, but Ellie really is the sweetest thing out there. His and Sylvie's lives have become a million times better the day their daughter was born.

"Did what on your own?" Matt hears his wife's voice coming from the side of the stairs as she peeks at Matt and Ellie over the bars of the railing.

Ellie lights up and smiles at her mom. "I tied my shoelaces on my own, Mommy! Well, Daddy helped me with the first part, but then I did the little bunny ears all by myself," she explains happily.

"Wow! That's amazing, I'm so proud of you, little lamb," she coos, moving around the railing to sit next to her daughter. She grabs one of her braids playfully, then moves to tickle at her sides. Ellie giggles at the gesture, retreating back amusedly. She notices Ellie's other untied shoe though and points at it. "You've got a second foot though, silly. Think you can do that one all by yourself? Show Daddy just how strong you are?"

"Uh-huh," Ellie nods excitedly, moving to switch legs and extend her right foot. This time, Matt stands back and lets her do her thing.

He should have known before that she'd learn like this. Ellie's tough and smart beyond compare for a kid her age, but sometimes she gets too flustered and down on herself to see straight. That, Matt knows for a fact she gets from her mother. But Matt and Sylvie took vows to lift each other up, to support each other no matter what and help each other be the best versions of themselves. That applies to their daughter now too, so he's not surprised that all it took was a little confidence boost for Ellie to learn something new.

She goes at the second shoe, quietly mumbling the steps to herself as she goes through them and then sitting back in victory when she looks at the finished product. "There you go, Daddy. I did the second shoe," she announces, standing up on the step and showing him her ties shoes.

"I can see that. They look nice, you did a good job, Ellie," he beams. "If you're lucky, we might even take you to get some ice cream after school to celebrate."

"Really?" Her face lights up as she raises her eyebrows expectantly.

"You'll have to wait and see! Now come on, we need to get you to school. And Mommy can drive now that she's found her keys," Sylvie chuckles.

Ellie nods and Matt moves to pick her up. He lets out a soft grunt as her arms fly up and accept the embrace, slinging over his shoulder. He just forgets that she's growing up so fast sometimes, and that she doesn't weigh ten pounds like she did when she was just a baby.

Ellie giggles in his arms as he bops her nose once with his finger. He moves over to Sylvie though, who's already smiling joyously. It's sort of a momentous occasion for them; Ellie's been trying to tie her shoes for weeks now and the slight weight of the moment isn't lost on them.

Matt takes the opportunity of Ellie being slung over his shoulder to lean over and kiss Sylvie. Her lips drag against his slightly, and she exhales sweetly after they pull away from the kiss.

"Gross!" Ellie squeals from over his shoulder, wiggling in his arms. Sylvie chuckles, running a hand over his cheek to caress it once more before moving behind Matt to face Ellie.

"Who are you calling gross, little lamb?" Sylvie moves to tickle their daughter, who squirms in Matt's arms even more and laughs hysterically.

Matt lets them goof around for a little more before moving to the car. He knows they're going to make Eleanor late for school if they keep it up for too long but he doesn't care.

He's gotten a happy ending with the woman he loves, with their daughter. And that merits a million late slips in his mind. It's a small price to pay for a happy family.

#I can't stop writing brettsey with kids now asjnewfueifh--#abby writes #fanfic prompts #sylvie brett #matt casey

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ohholyfanfics · 3 years ago

Text

Ten Stages: Stage One| Tom Holland

Stage One: Realization, the stage where they slowly start to realize that they are falling for someone. Where Tom has a sudden realization thanks to his best mate Harrison Osterfield.

She was running late, a bit later than usual. Checking his watch once more, Tom found himself humming along to the slightly over-played tone filling the car. The hot Virginia sun causes sweat to form on his forehead; reaching over, he quickly switched the AC settings knowing she'd complain the moment she got inside the car. Biting his bottom lip, he felt a wave of relief wash through him as he watched her walk out of the building. Hair in a neat ponytail, her figure hugged by a dress that looked way too good on her. Her light pink blazer rested on her arm as she waved goodbye to a colleague before making her way over to his car.

"Ah always a gentleman.." she hummed in approval watching as he swiftly got out of the car and opening her door.

Giving her his signature boyish grin, he leaned close to her, placing a soft kiss onto her cheek. Closing her door, she couldn't help but roll her eyes, watching as he climbed back in. Tom watched as she fiddled with the climate control on her side from the corner of his eyes.

"You sure you aren't going through menopause or something.." he mumbled, backing out of the spot and soon driving them towards their weekly lunch date.

"Isn't that your job to know.." she hummed, pulling her phone out from her bag. "Plus, I think I'm a bit to young for that Thomas.." she mumbled.

"Well aren't you a doctor.." he huffed out as she took this chance to slap him across the head. The loud groan that escaped his lips was enough the have a satisfied sigh escaping her own.

"Besides the point Holland, how was the first half of work? Any life saving surgery?"

He shrugged, he loved what he did, and every day, he was thankful for it. Sure it was hard work to get where he was now, but here he stood. Now three years into residency, he had somewhat of an idea of what he wanted to do. After learning that a position would be opening up at the hospital, he knew this is where he was meant to be.

"Not really, pretty slow today.."

She nodded her head; Tom was a bit further along than she was. He was nearing the end of his term and now had a whole different set of pressure resting on his shoulders.

"A spot is opening up at the hospital though.." he mumbled once they were seated at the country club—the same country club where they had first been introduced.

"Wow Tom, are you gonna apply?" She asked with wide eyes. They hadn't talked much about his plans after med school; she knew he had some sort of idea of staying local. "Is it in the department you're in now?"

"Um it's actually in the trauma department.." he stated as she nodded her head. This was the first time he was actually voicing his future plans with her. It wasn't that he kept her in the dark or that she felt entitled in being informed. Tom was her best friend, and she just wanted to support him in any way possible.

"Wow that's huge.." she stated as he nodded his head. He knew she had been seeing or talking to some guy from the hospital. It was possibly the first time since March that she had actually gone out on a date. Tom doesn't know if she went on a date or if they even still talked.

"Not sure if it's something I want though."

Y/N knew that was a code for closing that conversation, so she did just that. In an instant, their discussion switched to the fact that she will be gone for a few days. Tom had promised to look after her place along with being on dog sitter duties for Layla. He hummed softly as she basically gave him a tiny little run down of her short weekend trip and promising takeout the moment she's back. He knew it was a code word for debriefing after spending a few days confined with her family members.

"Harrison's coming down right?" She asked once they were seated at their usual table. "He texted me asking if I'll be around.."

"Yeah, he's staying a couple days.." he mumbled, eyes scanning the menu though it was kinda pointless. He already knew both their words.

"Hmm, it'll be good for you." She mumbled, clearing her throat. As much as y/n hated to admit, she knew this time was difficult for any medical student. The ending was nearing, and the sudden pressure to have everything set in stone was terrifying. However, she knew as much as anyone that Tom was in a much different mindset than when they first met.

The Tom Holland sitting before her was different; he had a future planned out for himself. Sure, he didn't plan ahead like she had, but the small amount he did was a great start. She also knew that pushing him into making decisions was never an intelligent choice; Tom knew what he wanted and had all the necessary tools to pursue whatever it was he wanted in life. One thing she was clear on was that he was staying in Virginia.

"Can I ask you something.."

She looked up at him nodding her head. His tone was slightly different, closer to the one he used the morning after their last candle and wine night. The same night where she may have cried a bit too much in his guest room.

"That night at the beach, when when we made the bet, where you in a sense preparing yourself? You know, for like the breakup?" He asked softly, thanking the waiter as they set their drinks down.

She looked at him a little dumbfounded, not really knowing what to say. She knew what she had to say, but the words couldn't seem to come out. She looked at him for a few seconds, mind racing before finally speaking.

"No, I wasn't. If I'm being completely and utterly honest with you Tom, I thought Marc was maybe the one. We were together for so long and everything was so close to perfect. I don't think I really ever saw us ending.."

He nodded his head, ignore the slight sting upon hearing those words, not that he was surprised. It hurt him to know that something that she believed in so desperately ended without any explanation. He couldn't even begin to imagine what she was feeling or what she thought the moment everything sunk in. However, Tom also knew y/n was a lot stronger than everyone gave her credit for.

"Have you talked to him?"

"No, he didn't answer the first couple of texts I sent. So I guess I kinda got the hint you know. I'm not necessarily bothered by it, I mean I was in the beginning but now it kind feels numb."

"Shouldn't you like talk to a professional love.." he mumbled as she smiled at him softly. "I know it's in a sense traumatizing.."

"Don't worry doctor, I talk to my shrink about it. Im kinda coming to terms with the fact that maybe we weren't meant to be.." she mumbled as he nodded her head. "I just, I'm focusing on myself and getting through all this. If love comes my way it comes my way..."

"How knows darling, the one might be right under your nose." He chuckled, leaning over to bop her on the nose. He couldn't help the laugh that escaped his lips, watching her nose scrunch up and eyes crinkle up.

"God I hate you sometimes.."

It's been two days since Y/N had left for New Hampshire on a small family getaway. As much as she wanted to drag him along, and as much as Tom hated to admit it, a weekend with the Y/L/N sounded pretty amazing; Harrison finally got some time off and was coming to visit. He was had just finished stocking his fridge with a few essential items the two would need before the door open and the sound of barking welcomed the blond inside the townhouse.

He couldn't help the sense of familiarity that washed over him seeing his best friend come into view. Tom hated to admit it, but he needed to see him, more than he could like to admit. After a hug that might have lasted a few seconds longer, they were both drowning in beer and one of Harrison's favorite dishes made by y/n.

"Where is our own personal pyschatrists anyways?" he asked before taking a sip of his beer.

"Went up north to visit family, something about get together or whatever.."

Harrison nodded his head, picking at the label on his beer. The two had done a decent amount of catch-up, but he couldn't seem to notice the lack of mention of his neighbor.

"Marc must be happy to see her.." Harrison mumbled as Tom tensed up at the name. He wasn't sure what Harrison did and didn't know. "I actually ran into him a few days ago."

Tom choked slightly on his beer as he looked back at him at a loss. He wrecked his brain on what he could say but kept coming out short. The one thing coming to mind was just blurring out how Marc suddenly stopped responding without an explanation. How he suddenly can't stop thinking about their stupid bet, and how every day the chances of becoming a reality increase.

"Mate, they aren't together anymore..."

"Stop bullshitting me Holland, Marc looked very much in love with her when I asked him how things were between them.."

Tom couldn't help but scoff, thinking back to the night she had shown up with too many bottles of wine and a broken heart.

"Mate he ghosted it, thats a pretty funny way of showing your love."

"Fuck, I had no idea."

"No one did mate."

The past few days were pleasant and relaxing; the two spent time together. Harrison was just what time needed, and within the short few days Harrison was there, Tom realized a couple of things:

One that he couldn't possibly live without both Y/N and Harrison in his life.

Two that he was going to take the position at the Trauma Department.

"Thomas Stanley did you miss me..." she giggled softly as he brought her into a bone-crushing embrace. The sigh that escaped his lips was overwhelming.

Maybe, you don't see her as just a friend, mate. I don't do half of the shit you do with her, with Jessica.."

"Shut up, Y/N.." he mumbled, slightly pushing her away while shaking Harrison's voice out of his head. "I got that wine you told me about.."

"Yum, it's good." she stated as she took a seat at the island. He couldn't help but smile as she leaned over, smelling the candle he had picked out. "Cactus Bloom?"

"Its a good debriefing scent, not too intesne.."

I don't bother to memorize small insignificant facts about just some random girl, not even if we're close. I'd understand a few minor details, but not all.

She watched as he poured them both a glass before handing her a plastic spoon and pushing a carton of takeout towards her. She hummed in appreciation, sending him a wink.

"So how was your few days with Harrison?" she asked, swirling the pasta around. "How's he doing?"

"He's doing, says the kids say he speaks funny.."

"He does speak funny, you both do.." she hummed, locking eyes with him and a wide grin. "But its a cute funny.."

"Funny."

She hummed, sending him a wink before taking a few more sips of her wine. He sighed, leaning back in his seat as he took a good look at her. She looked different; she was happier, lighter even. It was clear these few days away did good on her, and he was glad.

You notice the little things about her Tom, from the color of her nails to when her mood shifts. No one reads that deep unless they fancy someone.

"I'm gonna take the spot in the truma department.."

Her lips formed an 'O' before launching herself into his arms. Her lips lightly brushing the skin against his neck, causing his arms to hold her a little tighter.

Now tell me, Holland, how does she make you feel? Don't hold back anything Tom, it's me. You can be honest, mate. Do you fancy Y/N?

"God, Tommy I'm so happy for you.."

The way her eyes sparkled caused a storm to awaken within him. His heart was beating a bit too fast, the sudden urge to pull her into a kiss. The feeling was overwhelming as she started to ramble still in his embrace.

It was at that moment that the realization kicked in. Tom Holland was starting to fall for his best friend, and he wasn't sure how to deal with it.

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