#she really out here throwing hands with everybody

[theconstantsidekick]

Everybody Loves A Clown

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Reader, Sam Winchester x BestFriend!Reader

Genre: fluff covered angst

Summary: John died a week ago, and Dean's been weird. Sam's been up his ass about it but it finally comes to a head when Y/n decides to talk to him about the whole thing.

a/n: it has an open ending but i can write more if y'all eat this up

Warnings: Smoking, mentions of smoking, romanticisation of smoking, a lot of that yes, sorry. Don't smoke kids

“You were right,” Sam admits.

“About what?” Dean asks from where he stands over the Impala, wrench in hand.

“About me and Dad,” Sam answers with red eyes and a crack in his voice. “I’m sorry that the last time I was with him I tried to pick a fight. I’m sorry that I spent most of my life angry with him. I mean, for all I know he died thinking that I hate him.” He pauses. “So, you’re right. What I’m doing right now, it’s too little… It’s too late.” His lips tremble. There’s a self-deprecating smile on his lips as he continues, “I miss him, man. And I feel guilty as hell. And I’m not all-right. Not at all.” There’s tears in his eyes now as he stares directly at Dean. “But neither are you. That much I know.” He waits for a second, seeing if Dean might answer, and still knowing that he won’t. “I’ll let you get back to work.” With that he walks off.

Dean doesn’t know what to… do.

He fidgets.

He paces and fidgets.

He clenches his jaw hard enough for it to hurt and then he paces and fidgets some more. 

Until his eyes fall on her.

“The fuck do you want?” He asks her.

In turn for his crude tone and cruder words, he is given half a smile. “Nothing,” she tells him.

“Then what the hell are you doin’ here?” He bites back. 

To her credit, she doesn’t flinch away at his harshness. No, she just smiles wider. 

She gets to her feet from where she was sitting on the steps of the shed behind them and walks over to Dean. She pulls something out of her pocket as she asks, “Asking, if you want a cigarette?”

The lack of pretence throws Dean off completely. “What?” is all that he can bring himself to say.

She shrugs, shaking the pack of menthols in her hands. “You want one?”

Dean, again, is met with the curiously unsolvable puzzle that is Y/N and left struck. “I didn’t know you smoked?” It’s a stupid thing to say, all things considered. But the fact that the answer is stupider consoles him some.

“I don’t!” she exclaims, a little too defensive to be God's honest truth. She pulls one cigarette out of the box. “Do you want one or not?” She throws the box at him. 

Dean catches it on reflex. 

“Fuckin’ menthols,” Dean curses looking at the box, but pulls one out for himself all the same. 

“Might make your swimmers less effective,” she says a little too easily as she lights his cigarette, “but they’re a certified cure to sadness.” She smiles, lighting her own. And standing this close, with the flame from the lighter painting her all shades of yellow, Dean has to physically pull himself away. He has to will himself to take a step back and catch his breath. He gulps and takes a drag. He is clenching his jaw again.

“You should mind what you’re sayin’ while lighting a guy’s cigarette. Talking about my ‘swimmers’ when you’re an inch away from my face?” He shakes his head. “Another guy might take it the wrong way.”

“Or the right way,” she mutters, so jumbled and wrong, Dean’s not even sure he heard it correctly.

“What?” 

“Nothing,” she dismisses him off handedly, a little too easily. 

He decides to let it pass, because again, he’s not sure he heard it right. And if he did, he’s not sure he has the mental wherewithal to be able to deal with that implication. So, he lets it pass. 

Besides, she doesn’t really give him any other option. “You remember how Sam was when Jess died last year?”

“It was last fucking year, yes! ‘Course I remember it,” Dean throws back, exhaling smoke out as he speaks.

She nods, “And?”

He knows what she’s getting at. “Sam was a mess,” he answers the unasked question. “I’m not like that.”

“That’s precisely the point I’m trying to make,” she states, taking a drag. “Not the second half, the first. Sam deals with emotions very openly. He… He lets himself fall apart and crumble. That’s what he’s gonna do now. He’s gonna get sad and he’s going to try and do things that John would have wanted him to do when he was alive. He is going to feel guilty and he is going to be a mess… because he deals with death, like he deals with everything else. He’s not emotionally constipated like you are. He’s normal…” She shakes her head slowly from side to side, reconsidering her words. “Or well, as normal as anyone in this line of work can be.”

Dean takes another puff. “Well, does he have to drag me into it?”

“Yes!” She answers, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

And it fucking isn’t. “Why?!”

“Because he isn’t used to this.”

“What? Death? We just established that—”

She shakes her head at him like he’s being difficult for the sake of it… Maybe he is, but it’s not fair for her to be able to read him that easily. She cuts him off then, with, “No. He’s not used to you being like this.” And the words hit him hard. She must see it too because then she pauses and brings the cigarette to her lips and takes a long drag. “He’s used to the flirty, cocky Dean, who’s an overall dickhead.” When she exhales the smoke, it’s thick and white. Don’t smoke, my ass, Dean thinks to himself. “He’s going to ask you if you need something. He’s going to try to make you feel better and he’s going to keep checking up on you, because he has never seen you—his big brother—bereft before.”

And fuck, if she isn’t talking complete and utter sense. 

He runs a tired hand over his face, cigarette clipped between the index and the middle finger. “And what, you have?”

He’s not very good at people assessing him and his brother emotionally so accurately, okay? He needs to retaliate.

“No,” she replies easily with a smile. “When your mom passed away you were too young, and with everything that followed, I’m not even sure you had the opportunity to deal with it. This might as well be your first time dealing with loss.”

He clicks his tongue and raises his brows briefly in semi-agreement. And having been assess accurately once again, “Well, isn’t that just fucked?”

She nods. “It is.” She brings the cigarette to her lips. “But at least you’ve got me.”

He laughs. 

It’s kind of cruel that he does and he knows it.

But he laughs, because what the fucking hell?

And again, he’s fully aware of his cruelty in this moment and ready for the repercussions. 

What he isn’t ready for is to look at her and see her wearing a smile instead of a hurt look on her face.

“You think you’re gonna save me, sweetheart?” He retorts, adding to his asshole-ry.

She shrugs. “I don’t think I’m meant to save you, Dean,” she says, all too politely while taking a puff from the cigarette. “I just meant…” she looks at him. “I know what you’re going through.”

“No, you fucking don’t.” His words are harsh and cold and painful and mean.

You’ll break her, he thinks. You’ll break her and it’ll hurt worse than anything ever could.

But she doesn’t seem to be breaking. “Your dad died ‘cause of a demon and you feel responsible for it—”

“I don’t feel responsible for it, I am responsible for it. He died to save my life. It was supposed to be me who you salt and burned, not him! It was me who was supposed to be dead, not him!” And he’ll carry that weight with him for the rest of his fucking life. “You have no fucking idea what I’m going through.”

Her eyes are locked to his as she counters without hesitation. “My brother died because of a demon and I feel responsible for it.”

Dean can do nothing but close his eyes and yell out in frustration, “It’s not the same!”

“Isn’t it?” she bites back, standing straight and unmoving in the face of Dean’s rage. She doesn’t let him answer. “It was supposed to be my job. I was supposed to be the one who got possessed by a demon and driven around like a meat-suit. I was supposed to be the one who died in a freakin’ basement like a rat. It was my job, Dean. I was the first call, the second and the third… But I just decided to ignore it. But he didn’t… ‘Cause he’s nicer than I am…” She winces, looking away. She looks hurt for the first time since they began this conversation. And it seems she’d done it to herself. Because then she corrects, “Was nicer…” She takes another drag from her cigarette. “So, fuck you. But I know what you’re going through.”

He bites his lips.

Then he lets his head fall.

Because as much as he’d like to fight her on this, he can’t. 

She’s right… as usual.

He doesn’t know what to say to any of that so he stays quiet. Moreover, he thinks he’s kinda supposed to. Because she doesn’t swear often, even less so at him. So yeah, zipping it might be the right call here.

She takes charge then, as he begins pacing and smoking once more. “This might be your first go around at grief. Sam’s second. But, for once, I’m the season player.” 

When he turns to look at her, she’s smiling.

“Does that mean you’re gonna keep fucking smiling at me like that?” He retaliates, again. He’s already told you the logic behind that one.

“Sorry,” she holds up her hands in surrender. “I don’t mean to. I’m not smiling at you—not really.” She smiles again. “It’s just… It’s just that look on your face. I’ve seen it before.”

“I thought we just established you’ve never seen me like this before?”

“No, not on you,” she clarifies.

“Then?”

“In the mirror,” she tells him honestly. “Every morning for the last three years.”

Fuck him. Fuck this. And fuck everything.

A part of him, a selfless and kind part of him wishes she didn’t get him, wishes she’d rather be hurt at his words than look at him with so much understanding.

But another part of him, the selfish and unkind part of him, is comforted by the fact that at least someone does, in fact, get him. Even more so, he’s comforted by the fact that it’s her.

“So, take it from someone with experience,” she begins then, breaking him out of his mind numbing miserable thoughts. “You’re gonna wanna explode. You’re gonna wanna break something.”

“You got a cure for that, oh experienced one?”

She smiles again. “Yeah, break it.”

“What??”

She shrugs all too easily, taking another drag. “If you can find something you can break, that won’t hurt anyone, that you could ideally fix, then yeah! Break it.”

He stops pacing to look at her and cocks her head. “Will it make me feel better?” He is genuinely curious.

She outright laughs at him then, “No!” She brings her foot up and butt the cigarette on the back of her boot, sending embers falling to the ground like fireworks. “Nothing ever will…” She looks back at him, still smiling, “But it'll help.”

Dean sighs. 

He nods.

And then he throws the cigarette to the ground, steps on it and then walks over to the side. He picks up a crowbar, and then he walks back to the Impala. He grips the crowbar tighter and then he smashes the window. 

Then he starts slamming it into the trunk, over and over and over and over again. It clatters to the ground. 

He keeps at it till there’s a hole in the metal near as big as the one in his heart. 

And when he’s done, he lets the crowbar fall to the ground and pulls the packet of smokes out of his pocket. He grabs a cigarette and places it right between his lips. When he looks up, she’s close to him again, lighter in hand.

She looks at him and he looks at her.

Then she lights his cigarette. “How’d it feel?”

“It didn’t make me feel any better,” he replies, handing her the packet back to her when she smiles at him. “But it helped.”

She nods, and takes the entire packet to her lips, with her teeth she pulls one cigarette out and then lights it, pocketing the packet and lighter in one go. “Look, I know you… You don’t know how to deal with this, and as much as I want to, I can’t really help you with it either but unlike me, Sam’s not gonna get it.”

“I know,” he tells her. Because he knows that his brother means well, but he has a tendency of being too in your face about it. 

She hums in agreement, as if hearing her thoughts. And fuck, if he’s to go by her track record, maybe she can. “You’re gonna wanna get mad, go crazy and lash out. So… I’m suggesting that you do that with me, instead of him.” Her eyes are too fucking kind as she adds, “If you want to get mad, go crazy and lash out—lash out at me, get mad at me.”

Dean can’t fucking breathe.

“Why?” he asks.

“‘Cause he’s grieving too.”

“That the only reason?” he asks, hoping for… well, you know what he’s hoping for. You’re his inner monologue.

She tilts her head with a sweet smile. “You gotta mind what you’re saying, Winchester. Being emotionally vulnerable when you’re an inch away from my face? Another woman might take it the wrong way.”

He can’t help himself.

He snorts.

“Or the right way,” he says then with a smile of his own. 

And fuck it all, her face turns red at the realisation that he’d heard her. 

He loves it so fucking much that he’s not even bummed about her taking a step away from him.

“Asshole,” she curses him, but her heart’s not in it.

“I’ve got one condition though,” he says and watches confusion break onto her face. “For lashing out at you instead of Sam.”

She shakes her head fondly, at his wording. “What is it?”

“You promise to do the same.” It’s the kindest thing he can offer her. His misery, in exchange for hers.

She chuckles at that. Morbid as it may be, their sense of humor was always on par with each other. “Sure,” she says. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

He raises his hand, cigarette still wedged between his fingers, “Shake on it?”

Apparently, that’s the wrong thing to say ‘cause then she makes a disgusted face like the hand he’s offered is covered in snot. 

Slapping it away, she throws the smoke in her hands away and she steps closer. And then hugs him. 

The action catches Dean off-guard. 

It takes a second for his brain and his heart to have a meeting and catch up with each other. And then finally his brain sends the signal out for his to hands drop the cigarette and wrap around her. 

Probably encouraged by him hugging her back, her grip on him tightens. And fuck if that doesn’t thaw Dean’s cold, broken, blackened heart. He happily does the same, snuggling his face into her neck and breathing her in.

They stay like that for a bit, until Dean realises she’s waiting on him, letting him have his fill.

Reluctantly, eventually, Dean lets her go. 

When he does, if she can spot his misty eyes, she doesn’t mention it. 

Instead she says, “Now, hand me the crowbar.”

“Huh?”

“What, you think I don’t wanna break shit?”

[fountainpenguin]

"She's gonna cut my head off... but I don't caaare! They say, 'You clean up nice... Just like a dead man! Like a dead man!'" (x)

---

New Dog's Life chapter today! ~ 3rd Life series fan-season

Chapter 42 - “Raider Reunion (Martyn, Etho, Impulse, BigB)”

❤️ Read on AO3

💛 Start from Chapter 1

💚 More Pixels Imperfect fics

---

“Hey, everybody! Welcome back. My name is Josh, and we’re glad to see you here. Pleasure to meet you. Mumbo; it’s been a while. Etho! I just saw your twin and niece. He’s good with kids. She’s… not.” You both know this guy? BigB tries to sneak a glance at either one of them, but the only response he gets is Mumbo’s shrug. “I’m BigB,” he tells the enderman, still focused on the man’s neck area more than on his face. “I don’t shake. I’m an illusioner underneath the moth mods; from knox ZnHeITtk HTvkH IkItn. What are you guys doing out here?” If his terse refusal to touch hands bothers Josh, he doesn’t show it. He does, however, break into a wider smile. “Well, thanks for joining us today. We’re setting up for one of my favorite games: Is There a Limit? Specifically… Is there a limit to how many people we can have waterskiing behind a dragon at the same time?” “… What’s waterskiing?”

Scott gave BigB until sunset to talk to his old raider friends. BigB didn't bring a clock.

Meanwhile, Impulse seeks help for his goo problem and Martyn breaks into Cleo's house. Just a typical day in New Star Station...

(First 1,000 words under the cut)

---

InTheLittleWood

Location: Approaching wool farm, North New Star Station

🖤  🌕  🖤

Are you sure you can handle this? Every twitch in Martyn’s form screams at him to voice the question. Spikes and feathers twist inside his hearts. Nostrils flare. Maybe that’s why Bdubs blurts out his words without thinking them through: because keeping a shut jaw fills a guy with alligator wriggles. Technically, the proper way to sort out this lack of faith would be to take it to the sparring ring, but Martyn can’t do that either… Not with Rosejoy’s rippling muscles a hand’s breadth from his own. Hey, she has claim on the Fox Dragon’s turf. That can’t be an accident. And if it was, then it’d be just my luck that lightning strikes her twice.

“You did all right out there,” Martyn tells her, which is less direct than asking why she challenged Impulse in the first place. You think she knew she’d lose upfront? Huh. Maybe she gets drunk on the way people talk. They’ll have gossip and clip compilations for days.

Chunky fingers tighten around his own. Martyn looks down to the wobbly eyes of a much lower-XP phantom hybrid clinging to his hand. “What about me?”

“Aww, you too, slugger. You really showed Baker what-for. All tuckered out now, are we? Yeah…”

Lucky rubs a fist across his eye. It hides a yawn, but Martyn’s hearts spring forward like rabbits when the arrows come a’flyin’. The foxes he hatched would’ve liked to eat rabbit, actually. Martyn pats Lucky behind the shoulder, but throws a glance to Rosejoy to see if she caught what just happened there. And the stare she returns, uh… answers that question pretty dang well.

Sleepy kid. His energy’s dropping fast. The portals are still down, so there’s no dodging this by jumping AFK. We need more food. If Bdubs will listen long enough to follow orders-

“Aw, Lucky’s gonna love hanging with me,” Rosejoy butts in, thwapping him with the end of her tail. She caught Martyn on the way, which was probably the point.

And you’re sure? he wants to ask again. Lucky’s a member of the New Star flock; he’s never been alone with Rosejoy before. Mental ping after mental ping fires down Martyn’s spine. Rival captain bad. Rival captain take or kill. Brrr. That’ll wake you up in the morning. That’ll give you shivers all the way ‘til bed.

“So, what’s the big guy’s story?” Rosejoy asks, moving a few steps away. The shift of her wings and the grimace of his lips paint a picture Martyn only dares to imagine from the outside looking in: Two flock captains testing one another’s boundaries; they maintain a truce ‘cuz someone outside told them so. It sure ain’t instinct keeping the rules intact. She continues, bouncing every step. “Who would mod out of being a phantom with a wingspan like that? I bet wind resistance runs from him!”

Oh, it does. The glitter in her eye ripples Martyn to his core. The swing in her tail’s a little too lax for a guest who’s got everything to lose with raiders in her home. The soft smirk’s a little too wide. She doesn’t want to lead him aboveground… Does she? Will the Lone Spruce refugees even be allowed aboveground when the coast is clear? Unsure. And Martyn wonders then, with a quickening through his hearts… whether Impulse - if offered the chance to rejoin a flock - would actually say ‘Yes.’

I mean, I don’t see any reason Scott could refuse him, right? Impulse can fly. He’s got the wings, the strength, the speed… If the phantoms get to go, why wouldn’t he?

“Ah, just medical reasons,” he says anyway, clinging tighter to Lucky’s hand. “Nice guy. Just super pent-up, if you know what I mean. I just feel sorry for his wife. He can’t target anymore, y’know? There go the love hearts.”

“He can’t hunt?”

“Lost his soul teeth. We keep him fed.” We have a system. He’s with us. So back off. He can’t ascertain from her silence whether the implication came across, printed in his tone, but at least Rosejoy doesn’t press the topic harder. Seriously, she hovered around Impulse enough back there at the squall- Did you hear the stuff she asked him?

There should be enough souls left in storage to keep Lucky going. Martyn looked through the mess with Bdubs last night. Bdubs still has a few in his soul pouch, but whether he shares is anyone’s guess. Like Hels he will, Martyn gripes, because Bdubs already made his position quite clear when he caught Cleo offering a feed: That’s the captain’s job. And he’s not the captain.

Really, though? To refuse a kid? Technically Bdubs didn’t refuse Lucky, but Martyn’s not about to ask him to share. Not before exhausting all his options. And maybe not even then.

We prep the nest. I feed the kid. Simple, simple two-step plan. And if it comes to it, there will be no asking. It’ll be a demand straight from his mouth to Bdubs’ ears. And the boss better listen up if he knows what’s good for him.

Their first stop is for more blankets from the wool farm. Last night everyone was restless, off and on the roosting platform for hours. Martyn brought out the board games and Bdubs did a little improv show - a little open mic night - but the fewer souls they’ve got on hand, the more exhausted everyone will get. What’s wrong with a little cuddle pile? Aw, roosting’s such an effort. Nobody says that, but they could! And you don’t grow up to be Martyn InTheLittleWood unless you’ve learned to be prepared.

Mumbo used to compliment me on random stuff in my inventory. Cleo too, but this is Sad Times About Mumbo right now. Martyn is trying very, very hard not to think about Cleo. Just check the moon and her AFK status if you wanna take a crack at why.

“Lucky, keep your hands behind your back. You’ll spook the villagers, remember? They’ll run.”

“Okay.”

“That’s why I wear the hoodie,” Rosejoy says, keeping back. When Martyn shoots a glance at her, debating whether to shoo her even farther off (Because let’s be real, three approaching phantoms would get anyone’s hackles up, even if they’re on foot), she just smiles. “You go on and do your thing. I’m barracking for you.”

The villagers regard Rosejoy with way too much apprehension to approach the fence. Martyn can read it in their shoulders; not even Meriwo will get close, and it’s the village headman. Martyn pulls his hoodie sleeves over his hands and hops the fence the old-fashioned way. He can’t speak the villager language and New Star’s mobs sure as hell aren’t sparked, but he’ll find a way. He’ll use bold gestures with his arms.

“Oh, this’d be so much easier if they didn’t scramble off when they see sign language.” Or if I had BigB and Cleo out here.

❤️ Read on AO3

[trappedinafantasy37]

Minthara making fun of Shadowheart for being a cleric: 🤣🤣🤣🤣

Minthara making fun of me for being a cleric: 😥😥😥😥

[pepprs]

discovered miah_pie on t*ktok (<- i don’t have one btw i just stumbled upon her bc someone i follow on ig talked abt her) and her videos make me want to cry so bad. 24 year old dependent moment

[milfsdoll]

Everybody knows that I’m a good girl, officer.

Officer!Agnes x reader

Summary: After almost burning your house down because of your boyfriend you end up at the police office, being interrogated by your ex girlfriend.

Warnings: +18, smut, dom/sub dynamics, dom!Agatha, bratty sub!reader, handcuffs, chocking, hair pulling, degrading kink, praise kink, strap on, slight spanking kink, daddy kink, fluff.

Word count: 4k

A/N: this is my first fic so I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing! Also english is not my first language <3

Masterlist

——— • ☾ • ————— • ☾ • ————— • ☾ • ———

You honestly didn’t know how it happened, one minute you were screaming at your cheater of a boyfriend and his fucking side chick and the next thing you remember was running out of the house, trying to get away from the flames.

You sighed in relief, finally at home after a long and stressful day at work, your boss was being a bitch again and making you do extra hours just because she feels like it. God how you hated her, you just wanted to go home, have a nice dinner and watch some bad movie with your boyfriend. 

As you reached your door, searching for your keys inside of your needlessly big purse you heard a sound coming from inside of the house, making you stop immediately, what was that? Again, another noise, was it… a moan? Pressing your ear to the door you heard it once again… and again… those were definitely moans “what the fuck?” Was he watching porn or something? I mean you couldn’t blame him if he did, you were barely home, but then you heard it, someone moaning his name. 

Your heart stopped for a moment, he could not… could he? 

With shaky hands and ringing ears you carefully opened the door, the sight of candles all around the hall and into the living room making you shake your head, no, no no no no no, three years, three years of relationship, this couldn’t be happening, right? He wouldn’t throw it all away, not like that, right? Your mind was playing with you, it had to be that.

Slowly, you made your way to said living room, the moans and grunts getting louder, and your heart pace getting quicker, and then you saw it, you were’t crazy, it was really happening “You motherfucker” your hoarse voice causing the room fall silent, your now, ex boyfriend, throwing the blonde girl off his lap, watching as she immediately put her clothes on and ran through the door, you didn’t care a bit about her.

You only focused how he made his way to you, the noises of him trying to talk to you into a pit of lies sounded blurry.

“Honey, it’s not what it looks like I swear” mhm… what a cliche lie,

“It’s her fault! She seduced me” great try, another one, 

“I’m so sorry, my love” huh, that was a good one… no,

“It’s not my fault you’re never home to get me off, I had to find someone else!” oh there was it, that son of a bitch.

Everything went red, you weren’t conscious of what you were doing, throwing everything your hands reached at him, screaming how much of a stupid fucker he was, not even trying to hide it, doing it in your own fucking home! And you didn’t realize one of the many things you threw at him was one of the big candles he set, hitting against the curtains.

It happened too fast, there was fire everywhere, and you stood there, frozen in the middle of the living room, staring at the burnt out wall, realizing what a stupid thing you did, I mean you didn’t even love him, you never did, but you trusted him, and you felt fucking betrayed. 

It wasn’t until a big flame got into your view you got out of your shock and ran out of the house, a police car already waiting for you.

And now here you were, sat in the interrogation room, leg shaking with anxiety and your heel kicking the floor repeatedly, staring at the door as if someone would appear faster. You’ve been waiting like 20 minutes already, and you knew there was only one person in the police office at this hour so you didn’t understand why she was making you suffer like this.

It’s something she have always loved to do.

As those thoughts ran through your head the door opened, revealing the brunette woman, she leaned against the door after closing it, studying you for a moment, she tried to grasp everything around her head, trying to understand the reason behind all of this “I’m very curious… what made you burn your house down and nearly killing you and your boyfriend?”

You scoffed and the last word “not my boyfriend, not after tonight” your words sounded furious and… painful, you squirmed in the chair, feeling quite uncomfortable “I didn’t mean to ok? You know I’m not that crazy” 

Agnes and you had a… situationship in the past, you both wanted more, wanted a serious relationship but her work and schedule were a problem, you barely saw her once a week or two causing you to argue a lot, so you both decided to part ways and stay friends, it was the best for both of you.

Or that’s what you wanted to believe anyway.

The older woman hummed, detaching herself from the door and sitting on the chair in front of you “I know” of course she knew, she knew you weren’t capable of hurting a flower “that’s why I’m asking you” 

You looked up at her from your fidgeting hands “I caught that fucker cheating, alright? I-I got furious and started throwing things at him and maybe… accidentally, I threw him a lit candle” replaying the scene in your head you let out a giggle, seeing his stupid face was worth it after all “but honestly Agnes? I don’t regret a thing”

Well… maybe you were a little crazy.

She fought back a smirk, she couldn’t blame you, he deserved it, she always knew that bastard wasn’t good for you, and if she had found out about it before she would have done the same thing, or worse, no one but she can mess with her girl “well, I’m sorry” she wasn’t, at all “but I’m afraid you have to spend the night in the tank”

What? No

No way you were gonna spend a second in that hell hole.

And just like that, an idea crossed your mind, it was risky but you knew very well it would work, for both of you.

“But… Aggie” you whined, looking at her with doe eyes, yes… you were playing that card “you know I’m a good girl” she flinched in surprise, feeling your foot caress her leg under the table. 

Those eyes, those fucking eyes.

You were playing a dangerous game, but oh… two can play this game and she hates to lose.

Without saying a word she got up, slowly making her way around the table, you watched her intently, like a prey watching her hunter’s next move, and then suddenly you let out a gasp, she threw your chair back with a kick, caging you between her arms, resting them on each side of the chair.

“Are you? Because I only remember you being a fucking brat” she was so close, so close you could smell her woody perfume, her breath against your face, fuck how you’ve missed her, every smell, every touch, every word of hers.

No one could ever compare to Agnes.

“And I remember you loving it… you loved to fuck the brattiness out of me, you loved to shut me up shoving your dick in my mouth” your hand carefully ran up her leg, watching her breath hitch you never took your eyes off hers, and just as you reached her crotch you felt something hard, making you bite you lip “you haven’t changed a bit Agnes, always packing around with that purple d-” 

She didn’t let you finish, grabbing you by the throat, shoving you up and against the wall, earning a huffed grunt from you and grabbing her wrist for support.

There she was, the rough Agnes you always loved, how she lost control of herself because of you, it made you weak on the knees, your mind already fogging into submission, but you had to fight it back, you wanted to test her limits, to totally break her, and let her break you from the inside in return.

On her end she knew she should tease you further, see how far you were capable of going but she was so weak for you, all this time apart from you, trying to find you in other girls but there wasn’t anyone like you, she only wanted you, she needed you, like she knew you needed her.

“You’re playing a dangerous game you know you’ll lose to here, pet”

God, you loved when she called you that, her pet, her plaything, her doll to play around anytime and anywhere she wanted. 

No.

Focus.

Break her.

“Is that the best you can do Aggie? Aww, maybe I was wrong, maybe you’ve lost your spark” 

Yes, yes, yes, that was the look you were searching for, that rough, primal look that sent you into a subspace without hesitation, you were ready to take whatever she wanted to give you.

Agnes pushed her leg between yours, pressing against your center, watching as your face squirmed in pleasure, she always found it fascinating how she could pull these kind of reactions out of you with such little actions “you really think you’re in control here, hm?”

You both knew the answer, you both knew there was no way you could take control.

“A-Agnes, is this really the place to do this?” Your voice came out hushed and shaky, your mind fighting to get a hold of itself.

The older woman chuckled darkly at your state “oh please, don’t tell me you’re chickening out now doll” and she knew you were right, the interrogation room was no place for this but she knew too neither of you were gonna be capable of waiting another second. 

She would deal with the consequences later.

Her hand on your throat loosened, letting you breathe for a bit, they travelled down your figure, stopping on your waist, her eyes burning into yours, you saw her expression change for a moment “you have no idea how much I missed you”

Shit, this wasn’t in your plan.

You gulped, trying to loose the nervous knot in your throat “I missed you too, every fucking day” your voice came out in a whisper, as if you were telling her your deepest secret, and maybe it was. 

Agnes pulled you close, her hands tightening around your waist as if you were going to disappear from her grasp, she had to make sure this was real and not just a dream.

Your lips ghosted against hers, your hands caressing her face, eyes still locked on each other, both of you trying to search for any sign of regret “are you sure you want this?” that made you nod eagerly “I need words baby”

“Yes, yes Aggie, I want you… I need you”

And then her lips were on yours, it was slow and sweet at first, both of you trying to savour the moment after all these years apart, but just as a moan escaped your lips Agnes lost it, her tongue asking for entrance licking your lip, you immediately let her, submitting to her, letting her take control of the kiss. 

You were always so good to her, always her good girl.

She walked backwards until her legs hit the table turning you both around “up” she simply said patting your hip softly, causing your puffy lips break into a smile, and of course you obeyed her, hopping on the table before grabbing her by the collar and smashing your lips against hers again.

Your impatient hands deciding to rip her flannel shirt after various failing attempts unbuttoning it, the action making the older woman to laugh against your lips “you’re buying me a new one” 

You huffed “you have plenty of those, officer” she smirked at the new title.

“Cute, but I like the old title better” her hands making their way into your pencil skirt, stroking your inner thighs, realizing how much she missed your soft and warm skin, how she missed having those thighs around her head, clenching and unclenching with every one of her touch.

“Okay… daddy” 

And just with that her whole mind went feral, grabbing the slit of your skirt she ripped it in two, making you gasp and looking at her in disbelief “well, now we’re even” before you could spit back at her she cupped your cunt, your head falling back with a moan “fuck, did I make you this wet, pet?” She bit her lip, rubbing the wet spot on your thong with her fingers. 

“You know you always do, even only the thought of you does” That stroked her ego, thinking how you got this messy only thinking of her, after all this time, it made her even more eager to ruin you.

You watched her as she got on her knees, your breath hitching as she travelled your thighs with kisses, pushing your legs apart so she could tease you further but never where you really wanted her. 

You knew what she wanted, teasing you like that, playing with the stripes of your thong with her fingers, but you just whined, grabbing her head attempting to push her to your center but she just sat back, looking at you with a raised eyebrow “come on… it’s not that hard to ask me nicely if you want it that bad, doll”

Groaning desperately, your mind trying to fight back the words you just stared at her with heavy breath, her eyes watching your every desperate move, knowing very well the fight that was going on in that pretty head of yours.

And she knew exactly how to get it out of you.

“Do it for me, pet, come on beg for daddy” she then continued with her kisses, now starting from your ankle, watching as you gripped the ends of the table tightly “be a good girl and beg for me to fuck you, sweet thing”

Your jaw hanged low, your eyebrows furrowing in total desperation.

Come on, you just have to say the word.

Be a good girl.

Her good girl.

“Please” 

It came out shaky, her kisses stopping to look at you “please, please fuck me Aggie”

Yes, much better. 

She had you just where she wanted you “there you are, my good girl”

Then you both rushed to discard your thong and the ripped skirt before she locked your legs around her shoulders, finally burring her head in your center, giving your clit a long lick that had both of you moaning, your hand flying to her hair, pushing her further into you, wanting to feel her even closer.

And she gladly did, wanting to get drunk of your taste, her skilled mouth nipping and sucking on your clit, loving every sound she pulled from you, holding your hips down as they desperately rolled towards her face. 

Your back arched into nothing as you felt her two fingers tease your entrance “fuck, daddy please” your submission making the older woman chuckle only of the vibrations to go right to your core, causing you to let out a strangled moan.

And deciding to put your suffering to an end Agnes slowly pushed her large digits inside you, feeling your legs tense around her head, her pace painfully slow, to focused on your face and reactions, your head almost snapping back as she curled her fingers inside of you, making you struggle to breathe at the amount of pleasure she was giving you.

She could never get enough of you, your intoxicating taste and addicting sounds, she could spend the rest of her life between your legs, driving you absolutely mad with just her mouth and fingers, feeling your warm hole, how you clenched and unclenched around her fingers trying to last a little more only to have her like this.

Quickening her pace, her got up, pulling you into a deep kiss as her thumb continued the abuse on your clit, swallowing your whines and moans and letting you taste yourself, her free hand making it’s way inside of your top, finding your nipple and pinching it between her finger, she always loved how you went braless everywhere, making it easier for her to access.

And when she felt your core clench harder, knowing you were already close to your orgasm, all her movements stopped “w-what are you doing?” you whined out, tears threatening to spill from your eyes from the overstimulation.

“Shh, it’s ok” she kissed your temple “open your mouth”

Without hesitating for a second you obeyed, her fingers slipping in, making you instantly close your mouth and suck, watching as her lips parted and pupils darkening in pleasure, your tongue playing with her fingers, cleaning them before she got them out, your mouth letting out a ‘pop’ sound. 

She then suddenly pushed you off the table and turned you around, pressing your front against the cold surface, manhandling you in the position she wanted “you better keep your hands there” she said locking your hands on your back.

“I will, daddy” you bit your lip from giggling shaking your ass against the hard bulge in her pants, knowing the effect that action had on the woman. 

There was silence for a moment, you could feel her eyes on you, and then- 

slap!

You gasped in surprise, your body jumping forward “keep that up and it won’t be the only one” you felt her deep voice right in your ear, her hand caressing you red and itchy bottom cheek.

You couldn’t deny and say you didn’t like it, on the contrary, it felt fucking good, but right now you just wanted her to fuck you raw, so just nodded keeping in mind to bring that side of her another time. 

The sound of a belt unbuckling reached your ears, your heartbeat fastening in excitement and your legs rubbing against each other for some friction yes please, please, please, your hands twitched, needing to grab onto something, or to feel her under your touch “keep. them. there.” 

It was easy, right?

Wrong.

You swallowed a whine in anticipation, feeling her hand running down your back, stopping on your waist, and just as you felt her rub against your entrance your hands flew to grab the table for support “oh… my poor pet…” she roughly grabbed your wrists, and after a second you felt something cold around them, and then a click “you asked for it” 

Did she just put her handcuffs on you? Fuck, you shouldn’t find it as hot as you found it.

She took advantage of that distraction to push herself inside of you, watching your whole body squirm in pain and pleasure while a loud moan escaped your lips, stilling for a moment, letting you adjust to her size, and it only took her seeing your hips start to push back into her to slide out almost entirely before roughly pushing into you again, the table cracking at the action “fuck!” 

She kept her rough but slow pace, the sounds of your moans and whines getting louder, oh how she missed having you like this, all fucked out because of her, your little brain only filled with her and the pleasure she was giving you. 

You felt her hand interlock into your hair, and in a sudden move your back was flushed against her front, both of you seeing your reflexion in the mirror on the wall “look at you… already so ruined and I just started fucking you” you clenched around the strap, wishing she could feel how your body reacted to her words, but she could see it, she saw how your breath stopped for a second, how your eyes closed with a cute little frown on your eyebrows.

Her free hand made it’s way around your throat, squeezing it just the right amount to make your mind fog, your moans fighting to get out as her pace quickened, but it wasn’t enough, you needed more “p-please” you managed to let out, looking at her through the reflexion.

Just like she could read your mind she removed her hand from your hair and painfully slow travelled down your body, rubbing and pinching your nipple, scratching your lower stomach, before finally making you roll your eyes back, pressing your clit between her fingers, while her dick hit that right spot it had you seeing stars. 

The obscene sounds of your skin against hers and your strangled breath turning the older woman on more than she would admit, her praises in your ear as she abused your clit faster “Good girl… you’re doing so good for daddy”

Your legs already shaking, the knot on your lower stomach getting harder to hold “d-daddy please, please let me cum” your almost pornographic moans getting more desperate by the second “fuck- please I’m so close!”

“Cum for me” it only took those words from her to reach your orgasm, your lips parting in an ‘o’ shape, summing all over her strap.

She slowed her pace, helping you through your orgasm, only stopping when your limb body fell on the cold table, making you shudder.

She let you catch your breath for a second, stroking your back up and down before she stood you up again, turning you around to see your fucked out face.

You opened your eyes to look at her smirking face, causing you to chuckle “hi” you whispered, closing the gap between your lips, both of you humming “are you gonna uncuff me now, officer?” 

“Not yet” she pecked your lips lovingly again before looking at you, with those demanding eyes “on your knees” 

You stared at her for a second, your breath hitching once again in anticipation, and slowly you got on your knees before her, watching her with doe eyes “you know what to do, clean your mess doll” and that you did, your tongue darting out to lick her shaft from the base, never taking your eyes off hers, slowly taking the large, purple dick into your mouth.

Her hand rested on your cheek, her thumb softly wiping away a tear that fell from your eye, her shaft hitting the back of your throat “breathe beautiful, through your nose” she hummed as she held your face down, enjoying having you like this again, your mouth full of her, struggling to breathe and those beautiful tears on your face. 

So fucking obedient for her.

When you started to cough around her she finally pulled out, helping you get up, and sitting you on the table while uncuffing you, her lips kissing all over your face as you recovered, your hands fisting on her navy blue tank top as soon as they were free “you did so good for me, sweetheart” she whispered against your lips, making you smile. 

“Thank you Aggie” 

You rested your forehead against hers, both of you savoring the sweet moment, her hands tightly around your waist in a possessive and protective way.

These were the moments you missed the most, her sweet self taking care of you, making sure you were ok like she didn’t just fuck your brains out a minute ago.

It was almost comical.

“So… officer, am I still spending the night in the tank?” She laughed at that, kissing your forehead softly, you were insufferable.

“Thinking about it… it will be the best if you spend the night at my place” you bit your lip suppressing a smile, you were too excited to wake up in the morning next to the older brunette woman “what do you think?”

“I’d love to” you whispered before pulling her into a loving kiss.

She helped dressing up again, giving you a pair of sweats she had in her office, and when you were gonna leave her office she grabbed you hand, pulling you flush against her.

She stared at you trying to get the words out, you could see the fight she was having in her mind projected in those blue eyes, so you planted a soft kiss on her nose, your hands caressing her cheeks trying to calm her thoughts, and then she said it.

“Be mine”

Your eyes locked, her eyebrows furrowing in worry as you took a second to reply, but when your lips broke into a smile she knew the answer.

“I have always been yours Agnes”

[kyra-cooneyx]

nena — barça femení x teen!reader

summary: you are the baby of the squad and your teammates never let you forget it

“hola nena,” mapi’s smile widened as she spotted the tub in your hands, eyes practically sparkling. “what do you have here?”

“cookies and cupcakes,” you answered, a little ‘duh’ tone slipping through. “but only enough for everyone to have one of each so go away.”

“wait!” mapi hear her hand up, stopping you from walking away. “you baked them yourself?”

“yeah.”

“was keira with you?”

“oh my god,” you rolled your eyes. “i am not a baby, i know how to use an oven!”

with a huff, you gave the spaniard one last dirty look before heading towards the cafeteria where you knew the others were gathered.

as you entered, pina and patri shot out of their seats and hastily approached you. you had told them the night before about your plans to try a new recipe and after they begged and begged, you promised to let them have the first taste when you brought the baked goods in.

you reached into the tub and handed them a cookie and cupcake each, looking up at them expectantly as soon as they’d both finished eating.

“so?” you asked, eyes slightly wide as you looked between them frantically. “say something, you’re killing me here!”

they both grinned widely and you scowled, reaching out to swat at patri since she was closest. “they are very good nena.”

pina hummed in agreement, frowning when you turned and swatted her hand away from the tub.

“one each,” you told her. “if someone doesn’t like one you can have theirs. but right now there is only enough for one cupcake and one cookie each.”

with that you swiftly made your way around your teammates, handing out the sweet treats until the tub was empty and you were sat snuggly between ingrid and frido, glancing around the room with a beaming smile.

“well if football doesn’t work out for you, you definitely have a career waiting for you in the baking world.” lucy said and your cheeks flushed as everyone else agreed.

“i’m gonna bake no matter what,” you told her. “it’ll just be a hobby.”

“a supervisada hobby.” alexia said pointedly and you rolled your eyes.

“i am not a child!” you whined.

“well technically—“

“shut up lucia.”

-

“that colour looks really good on you.” jana complimented as she laid down on your bed.

“thank you,” you smiled. “can you pass me that cover up?”

you took the garment from jana’s outstretched hand and slipped it on, whizzing around the room as you made sure everything was in your beach bag before dragging jana downstairs.

your phone buzzed as a text appeared on your screen but not even ten seconds later, an annoying screech of the car horn sounded outside.

part of you wanted to make pina and patri wait even longer but the horn sounded again and you were quick to swipe your keys from the coffee table, throwing them into your bag and leading jana out of the apartment complex.

“did you bring them?” pina asked as soon as you’d climbed into the back of the car.

you sighed and reached into your bag, thrusting the little bag of treats into her outstretched hand. she grinned and thanked you, placing the treats into her own bag.

“i didn’t bring enough for everyone,” you said as patri opened her mouth. “clau asked me to bring some, if you’d have asked i’d have brought some for you too.”

seeing the small frown on patri’s lips, you decided that ruining the surprise for the people in the car wouldn’t be such a bad idea. “i did bring these though and there’s definitely enough for everybody.”

you opened your bag enough for patri to see the little tubs that held even more sweet treats that you’d baked the night before. and as pina drove to the beach, you explained that you found yet another new recipe to try.

you were still talking as the four of you made your way over to where the other girls were sat under the giant parasols, a slight skip in your step as you walked along the sand.

“hello!” you chirped, gently placing your bag down before taking off your cover up and throwing yourself onto mapi’s lap.

“hola perrita.” mapi grinned as you looked up at her, shifting yourself when ingrid began tugging at your hair.

“i think i hate that more than nena.” you muttered, wincing a little as the norwegian braided your hair.

as soon as ingrid had patted your shoulders to signal that she’d finished, you shot into the water with jana, bruna, and esmee following.

the squeals of laughter from you all could be heard along the quiet beach, water flying everywhere as you all pulled out your best olympic style performances.

after another fifteen minutes, alexia rounded you all up to have some food, everyone eating quietly yet quickly.

you spotted mapi go into the water and was just about to stand up when alexia caught your wrist and pulled you over to her.

“ale!” you whined as she pulled out a bottle of suncream from your bag. “i wanna swim!”

“you burn, nena. remember what happened last time? the water washed this all off, you got burnt and you were complaining for days. put this on or you don’t go back in.”

you really tried your best to hold her hard gaze but eventually relented with a sigh, standing with your arms crossed as alexia lathered the sun cream over every sliver of skin she could see.

“there,” she said, poking your nose gently. “now you can swim.”

the speed you held as you ran back into the sea had alexia laughing with a shake of her head. just as she turned her back, she heard the war cry before a loud splash and spluttering.

you laughed loudly as mapi emerged from the water, her chest heaving as she caught her breath. your laughter came to a quick halt as mapi grinned wickedly and you’d never realised until that moment just how hard it was to run in water.

“no! no mapi! i’m sorry!” you cried out, wading desperately away from the spaniard. “it was a joke! it was a—“

almost as quickly, mapi’s arms were around your waist and then you were submerged, thrashing your limbs in an attempt to splash mapi enough that she’d leave you alone.

it didn’t work.

ingrid was the first to notice the commotion, pushing herself up on her towel. she couldn’t tell if you were screaming or laughing but she could see your arms flailing as you fought against mapi.

“why do they insist on playing so rough?” ingrid asked with a sigh as you tackled mapi back into the water.

“because they are children,” alexia said, lifting her sunglasses up to have a look. “well one of them actually is.”

your manic laughter sounded again as mapi flailed in the water, holding her arms out as you splashed her.

“if you stop i will buy you ice cream!”

silence followed and mapi peeked over her arms to see you nearly halfway to the shore. with a sigh she followed along, quickly catching up and dragging you towards one of the nearby ice cream carts.

and until it started getting dark you were in and out of the water, annoying mapi at any given moment and somehow concentrated long enough to dig a little moat around alexia’s body where she sunbathed.

“oh i think it’s someone’s bedtime.” lucy cooed mockingly as you yawned, dropping onto the towel ingrid had laid out for you.

“m’not tired.” you murmured, yawning again as you forced your eyes open.

“sí es usted.” pina said and you mustered your best glare.

“vamos nena,” you heard alexia say softly as someone lifted you up. a small whine left your lips but you leaned back into whoever it was behind you. “arms up.”

you did as you were told, feeling a t-shirt being slid onto your body. you looked down with tired eyes, knowing that any other day you’d be teased for how big it was on you.

you woke up enough to walk ahead with jana and bruna, pina and patri catching up as jana snapped the selfie.

the sky was darkening beautifully and as you yawned again, you were scooped up into someone’s arms.

“ale m’seventeen, not a baby,” you muttered. “don’t need to be carried.”

“maybe so,” alexia hummed, watching your eyes droop. “but you will always be our little nena. no matter how old you get.”

[thesunloveschips]

Obsessed - Part 5 (Azriel x Reader)

Summary: We continue the sex from where we left off previously.

A/n: Apologies for the delay. I was genuinely worried about whether this chapter was going to be good enough. Thankfully, @findingstephanie and @div94 were a huge help. ✨✨ Everybody clap for them because the smut is now smuttier. (I'll be crying in the corner for the contribution of the Internet in uniting smut lovers)

Warnings: smut, full-blown smut, like Azriel throwing reader around kinda smut, oral sex (male & female receiving), Azriel's tattooed chest, minors please stay away.

Click here for Obsessed (Masterlist)

****

“Wrap your legs around me.” Azriel ordered, unyielding and firm.

He didn’t look like the composed man whom she’d dined with or went grocery shopping. He was unhinged, deranged even. 

Y/n complied as she brought her hands behind his neck. 

He lifted Y/n, his hands under her thighs, and walked towards his bedroom. 

The feel of his hands on her skin made her bury her face in his neck because how large were those hands? 

She imagined how well those hands would grab her breasts and ass. How spectacularly he’d spank her. 

And that hand and those tattooed fingers wrapped around her throat while he fucked her stupid was. . . An aroused Azriel looked like he’d do all that and much more. 

And she wanted all that and much more. 

It was dizzying to be held tightly as he lifted her, when her breasts were against him. And from the way he glanced at her upon that contact, he was also affected by it. 

This man was large. Intimidatingly so.      

So what about his cock?

That painful bulge on his pants was enough to make her nervous. 

But gods, she wanted it. She’d cry and beg for it.

She wanted to be railed till she couldn’t understand anything other than him.

She could see the startings of his tattoos which eventually descended and spread across his chest. The nape was inked here and there but his neck in general was clean, displaying his clear skin. 

At this point, everything seemed to be a prelude to how frenziedly he’d fuck her and how willingly she’d submit. 

The golden lighting was dim, perfectly complementing Azriel. The sheets were cold. Y/n was wearing only her panties when Azriel made her sit on the bed.  

He now towered over her, putting all her fantasies to shame with his ravenous gaze. 

That inked chest was a vision. An inspiration for images, each more provocative than the previous. 

“Y/n?” She felt hot and light. So sensitive and drunk on his touch. Y/n really did but she really needed to be thoroughly fucked right now. 

She was consumed by her lust enough that it was becoming difficult to concentrate on anything other than his touch. 

“Stand up, sweetheart.” He kissed her deeply when she obeyed, maybe as a reward. 

“Do you trust me?” He rasped like a cunning predator ready to ruin her to the ground.

“Yes.” She received a soft kiss in return for her compliance. 

“Take off my belt.” Y/n blinked. She’d definitely read that line in a dark romance novel. When he pinched her nipple, she let out a surprised squeal. 

What washed over her was so hot it was electric. It was so sudden and too powerful. She nodded and her hands rose, heading towards his belt. 

Oh. Was he going to actually. . . 

Was he going to be rough? 

Would she get to taste his cock? 

The idea of it excited her. She was now impatient. 

This man, so perfectly crafted and intimidatingly large, desired her. And as she unbuckled his belt, Y/n felt confident. He was attracted to her. 

She felt glorious as she eagerly unfastened his pants and pulled it down and his undershorts just enough. The raw desire between them, now a palpable thing. 

The sight of his cock made her want to cry in gratitude because thank fuck for this unholy monument. 

Her hand extended to touch it when Azriel caught her wrist. “No touching.” She looked back at him, offended by that. What was the point of getting here if they weren’t touching?

But then he leaned in and growled. “Kneel.” 

****

Azriel had to remain in control. He knew that much. Y/n hadn’t had sex in a while so it would be inevitably painful for her in the beginning and he was determined to make her comfortable before he indulged. 

But all that determination went out of the window when he saw her breasts against him as he took her to bed. And when he’d glanced at her and saw her peering up with eyes filled with confusion and trust, he faltered. 

He was depraved and deprived and only determined only to fuck her like a primeval creature. But he couldn’t deny how much he adored this woman. 

And while his desire battled with his worry for her, Y/n gave him no room to think any further when she obeyed him and kneeled. She was so good for him. 

Azriel brought a hand to her cheek, his thumb tracing her lips before she opened it enough for it to slip in. 

He felt the tip of her tongue against his thumb while his woman sat there innocently as if she wasn’t the reason his cock was raging and aching. 

“Open.” Her lips parted and he saw that tongue. His hand impulsively went to the back of her head and brought her head closer to his cock.

He saw how her eyes widened, eager and afraid. And without any further instruction, her tongue darted out to lick him like an ice cream. From the bottom to the top. And she began teasing him around the tip. 

Her hand gently took hold of his cock. She took her time to gather her saliva, spat on his cock, and used her hand to gently spread it. 

Now, Y/n was a decently tall woman. There were few who were taller than her but she was so small compared to him. Small hands, small mouth, completely small. 

She was too soft.

Too gentle. 

He felt it acutely when her fingers teased over the veins of his cock, his grip on her hair tightening. Her tongue continued to lick him. 

Y/n. . . his beautiful Y/n pushed her stray curls behind, as if preparing for something. 

Azriel craned his neck when she sucked the tip with a wonderful amount of force. She was. . . heavenly. And such a dirty little girl. 

He was this close to taking advantage of her hair in his hand. Of pushing his cock in. His knuckles were pale, veins pulsating as he tried to restrain himself from doing just that. 

Her hand fisted the rest of his cock gently. 

Too gently. 

Oh.

His Y/n was a confident, cunning seductress out to hunt him and he was already bleeding on the ground for her. 

“More, Y/n.” 

He barely got the words out but the little minx looked up at him, removed his cock from her mouth, and looked at him all pretty with a coy smirk. “What?”

“Suck harder, sweetheart.” He repeated and brought his cock to her lips. And as soon as she opened her mouth, Azriel grabbed the back of her head and slammed in. 

Y/n was so fucking pretty as those teary eyes looked up at him. 

So fucking gorgeous. 

Nearly naked and on her knees. At his mercy. He hadn’t planned on a blowjob right now but whatever they were headed for better than anything he’d planned. 

All her whimpers and cries and her tears. And Azriel barely remembered that he wanted to come inside that sweet pussy first. 

He remembered how tightly she’d clenched around his fingers. Gods, he was going to enjoy claiming her. 

This beautiful woman, such a delicacy, he’d feast on her again and again. 

He’d ruin her so well. So thoroughly she’d never even look at another man.. 

Or maybe he’d crawl to her since his desperation was already established. 

But her mouth felt too good right now. Her face was so pretty as she struggled with his size, tears streaming down her cheeks. The look in her eyes made determined to unleash himself inside her pretty mouth. 

And he gave and gave and wanted to give more and more and but not now. 

He took out his cock, finally giving her enough time for breathing, and pulled her to her feet.

Fuck.

Fuck.

His Y/n. His woman. So fucking beautiful licking her lips. He had no other thought as he pulled her into a kiss. 

He wanted to breathe this woman into him. All of her essence, his and his only. 

With one hand grabbing her ass and the other buried in her thick hair supporting her head, Azriel asked. “That greedy for my cock, pretty girl?” 

“Why didn’t you come in my mouth?” She was gasping for air. 

“I plan to come in your pussy first. And when I want to, I’ll use your mouth. Is that clear?” But he kept looking at his lips, letting a thumb brush over them. 

He’d take that mouth. Azriel would fuck her in the shower like that. And then he’d beg on his knees for Y/n to one day wake him up with a blowjob. 

Y/n gave him a secret smile. He pulled her hair at the lack of an answer, baring her neck for his mouth. “Words, Y/n.”

“Yes, sir.” And any semblance of control he had was out of the window. 

****

Azriel threw her on the bed and wasted no time in hovering over her. Y/n knew calling him sir had done it. She’d seen his eyes darken and her pussy ached. 

Calling him sir seemed like the best idea she’d had recently. How much longer could she poke him before he fucked his life into her?

Azriel now kneeled at the side of the bed and she whined. His hands spread her for his convenience, threw her legs over his shoulders and he began feasting on her for the second time. 

Her panties were ripped to shreds and discarded somewhere she couldn’t care about.

“Hanhhh.” And if there’s anything Y/n could say confidently right now, it was that Azriel had a very wicked mouth and an even wicked tongue. 

His tongue moved over the slit, parted her, and easily found her clit as if he’d known her body for ages. He flicked her, teased her, again and again while her hands were clutching the sheets. 

Her impatience rose and so did her excitement. She was so close and it was so easy. She’d been sensitised after the first time he ate her out at the table. “Az!”

Her head turned to the side every now and then, eyes shut, and she was begging for relief. To be finished and Azriel was determinedly pursuing her. 

“Please, please, please, please, please.” Y/n cried loudly as she found her pleasure and shattered. 

She was numb from it all. And just when she thought she couldn’t feel anything more, Azriel hovered over her, parted her legs and settled between them. 

Y/n knew he was feral for her as he brought that delicious cock to her. She was aching, and absolutely ready to cry and scream if he began teasing instead of  fucking her properly. 

He closed in, bringing all of that heat with him to her breasts and abdomen. And he entered her surprisingly slowly. Azriel’s face displayed his pleasure—eyes shut tight, mouth open, quick breaths. 

Y/n was, in simple terms, being split apart. 

She took quick breaths, trying to cope with the pain and adjust to him. He was slowly sliding inside her, easing in. 

Gods, Azriel was actually keeping his promise of fucking all the air out of her. 

And fuck her all the way to her ass but Azriel looked way too alluring, lost out of his mind as pleasure enveloped in the form of her very own pussy. 

A sense of pride bloomed in her for being the cause of his pleasure. But the pain kept returning and kept melting away the more he pushed in. 

She didn’t realise that sex after a few months would hurt her. It didn’t matter how many fantasies she had of fictional characters or of random hot strangers. 

She felt herself become sensitive. Y/n could feel her nipples against his sweaty chest, the press of his hard muscle against her soft curves. 

And Azriel’s fingers began playing with a nipple while he sucked the other softly to ease her through it.  

When he was completely nestled inside her, the best of sensations overwhelmed her.

For all his dominance, Azriel continued to be considerate and greatly restrained as he entered her slowly. 

“Fuck.” The word sounded foreign to her due to its tone. He was now ready to let go. Y/n could feel it in his gaze, his warmth, and his touch. 

And once she’d relaxed and found her pleasure, Y/n called him. “More, please.”

“All okay?” He stopped his ministrations on her breasts and rose to meet her. 

This man now cradled her. And she loved it. And all her affections and desires for him became overwhelming and  she was close to crying with how insanely good she felt. 

“Yes. Move, Az.”

“Still greedy, I see.” He grinned wickedly, as if he was not sweating and desperate for her. Azriel pulled himself partially out of her cunt and she whined in complaint, not enjoying that. 

Now, Y/n was not a virgin. Neither in body nor in spirit. She’d read more than enough and explored less than enough and was curious to explore. 

And Azriel had a habit of empowering her in ways unknown. 

Her legs were spread apart to accommodate him and now, she wrapped them around his hips. 

A lustful groan escaped him when Y/n used her conjoined legs around his hips and pulled his cock further inside, moaning in satisfaction at the impact.

“You little demon.” His eyes blazed, acknowledging her lust for him and he thrusted in harshly, finding satisfaction in her moans. 

“Fill me up.” They were three words. Three mere words. And he’d unleashed himself on her. 

“I want you.” Another thrust. “Every.” Thrust. “Fucking.” Thrust. “Time.” 

“And yet hhhanggh-” Her nails were now digging into his back. “You tease aahngh too much.” 

“If you can speak, then I’m not doing my job so well.” Azriel removed himself from her. Y/n whined as he rose like a death god, dark and cruel, and removed his body and his heat away from her. 

His hands settled on her hips and he flipped her so her ass was in the air now. 

What was that? 

What the fuck was that?

Why was that so hot? 

Why was he- Y/n moaned when Azriel fucked into her in one smooth movement. 

She was clenching his cock tightly. He pushed her head into the pillows and leaned, warming her body with his own. “Hold the pillows tight.” 

And as he began to lose his control, his manners, and any sense of consideration, Y/n moaned and cried at his frenzied thrusts. 

She knew nothing else but his cock as he slammed into her repeatedly, fucking her like nothing less than an insatiable beast. 

Was she grabbing the sheets or the pillows? Y/n couldn’t comprehend or care for it. 

All she cared for was this man on his knees behind her, so thoroughly claiming his ownership of her, making every inch of her his. 

He was ensuring her body knew his grip on her hips, his cock in her pussy, his mouth on her neck, his breath against hers. 

And for all that he had teased her for this long. . . well, there was no teasing in what he was doing at the moment as he thrusted ferociously. 

She was crying again. Her eyes were hot and wet and the tears were already on the sheets. “Please.”

It was there. That spot he’d been wildly ramming into. Oh god, she was going to break. To crash into some place. 

It was dizzying as she neared it. 

“You like that?” She felt a harsh sting on her ass. He’d smacked her. She was probably reddening by now.

And when she didn’t answer, she felt his hand on her hair, wrapping it around his fist. Azriel pulled her hair, bringing Y/n easily up and his other hand wrapped around her throat to further support her against his chest. “Answer me.”

From this angle, she could see their conjoined shadow. Could see him pumping into her like a beast. Could see her breasts bounce wildly. “Yes. Yes. Yes. Oh fuck, yes!”

Azriel leaned towards her, the familiar feeling and warmth of his chest against her back so perfectly arched for him. 

“Such.” Thrust. “A.” Thrust. “Dirty.” Thrust. “Girl.” Thrust. “For me.” 

He was so close to her and even then she wasn’t satisfied. She wanted him ingrained in her being. His touch and warmth. 

The scent of sweat and sex was all around them. Azriel was still furiously thrusting his cock inside her and Y/n was blissfully moaning and falling and finally, she was shattering. 

Even then, Azriel refused to let her go. Refused to let her breathe as he continued fucking her into her orgasm and beyond. 

“No more.” Y/n wanted to breathe. At least for a while. But Azriel showed no signs of stopping. He continued to slam into her as if he hadn’t heard her at all. 

And she was just his to fuck and use as he pleased. She could only moan and cry. Tears flowed freely as she was brought to another orgasm made her tremble. 

Azriel made an lustful, inhumane sound like a roar or a growl as he came. She could feel him inside her, cock softening and their fluids running down her thighs. 

This was it. She’d never felt this perfect. This desirable. This sexy. And Azriel was there, making her feel all of it, prompting her to believe it. 

But when he removed himself from her, she cried. She was now frustratingly empty. 

Y/n only felt his hands gently embrace her as he settled her down. He wrapped the blanket over her and moved around a bit. 

She felt his hands on her inner thighs with something cool. “Sweetheart, let me clean you up.” 

And she felt the cool and tender graze of intimate wipes in her inner thighs. 

Y/n watched him and brought a hand to his cheek. He looked at her and she felt so comfortable. And so loved and cherished. This was surely a dream, wasn’t it?

She smiled and Azriel kissed her lips. “I’ll join you in a minute.”

“Forty seconds.”

“Thirty.” Azriel pulled back and did something and something. Y/n had closed her eyes, drifting away to blissful sleep. 

Footsteps sounded and he’d probably left the room. She didn’t keep count of the seconds but he was back by her side soon. She looked at him with a tired smile. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Azriel adjusted all the blankets and tucked them both in cosily. 

“Did you lock your door?” 

“Yeah. I just checked.” So that’s why he’d left the room. 

“And the lights?” He joined her in bed, entering the blanket and kissing her forehead. 

“All switched off.” Y/n felt his hand on her cheek and his body come closer to her. 

“Good.” She closed her eyes and snuggled closer, relishing in his warmth. “How are you?”

“I’m great. How are you?” Gods, he was so perfect. Was there any need for this much perfection in one person? 

He switched off the bedroom lights and laid down properly on the bed, her body finding comfort in his steady warmth.  

“I’m great.” She couldn’t stop smiling. Was that bad? She liked him, didn’t she? And maybe, he liked her too. 

“Come closer, Az.” She invited, extending a hand that found his chest. Azriel took it immediately and moved closer. 

And yet, she felt that he was definitely not close enough. Y/n caressed his hand with her fingers. 

“Close enough?” He asked so softly, she could’ve fallen asleep. This man exuded warmth and something so powerful yet gentle. 

“Not nearly.” She whispered, arching her back so her breasts would be pressed even more against his chest. Y/n draped an arm around his midsection and brought herself closer.

She craned her neck and moved forward to kiss whatever part of him that her lips would touch. It was probably his jaw from the bone structure she felt. 

Azriel leaned forward, his hands wrapping around her waist and he gently kissed her forehead. “You’re so beautiful.” 

“It’s dark in here.” Y/n felt something wrap drop over her body like a veil. And it was easy to find peace in his arms and drift away to sleep.

“Doesn’t make you any less beautiful.”

****

Taglist:

@fantanbietsson @angstylittleb1tch @fhgsvbnh @olive-main @cherryjain17 @halo-mystic @starofanotherworld @latinxbipride @viatorem-maris @acotarbestie @sevikas-whore @anthonys-viscountess @randomgurl2326 @thelov3lybookworm @cat-or-kitten @mortqlprojections @tele86 @rorel1a @red0202 @atomictyphoonkitten @colorfulgardenerduck @scarsandallaz @anonymousdisco @rcarbo1 @workof-a-rr-t @fuckingsimp4azriel @isabella13dusk @donnadiddadog @yannnnooooxoxox-blog @nxgh1 @thedeviltohisangel @katherinebright @fandomtrash5092 @epicsweetness712 @anik-4 @hitsxbikbv @julesvanslutta @fae-dreamer-99

[illusioninfnty]

Are You Still Watching?

જ⁀➴ Sex Tape : Day 15

feat. Josh Washington, Sam Giddings ᯓ★ Sam is in for quite the surprise when she inserts that video tape and clicks the play button...

warnings! : NSFW 18+, exhibitionism, voyeurism, fingering, masturbation, unprotected sex, stomach bulge, mild degradation, creampie, everybody's bi here

ᯓ★ kinktober m.list || read on ao3

Sam holds her towel close to her chest as she shimmies her way through the air vents, dropping down into an enclosed room and breathing a sigh of relief. She didn’t want to think about the psycho that was trying to chase her through the lodge, the one that killed her friends.

She shakes her head, trying to rid herself of those thoughts. She didn’t know if the man was still chasing her, and she needed to find a way to safely escape the lodge and warn the others.

As she takes in her surroundings she can tell she’s in a room that appears to be some sort of workshop. Equipment and tools are lazily strewn about, and she has to carefully step around to not bump into anything. This was most likely that psycho’s lair, she thought as she took in the scribbled papers that were pinned to cork boards.

What stood out to her though was a VHS tape that sat atop of an old television. The tape was plain, with no distinguishing features, only dawning a piece of masking tape that had the words “play me” scrawled onto it with a sharpie.

“What are you?” Sam murmurs to herself as she turns over the tape, investigating it. Her curiosity gets the better of her, and she pops the tape into the tv, watching as it flickers to life in just a few quick seconds.

Her breath hitches as the sight of you and Josh standing in the lodge’s Great Room fills the screen. You, who had been missing, your screams of terror that last she heard of you, and Josh, who she had just witnessed be cut into half, forced to watch that sickening video of his death by the psycho that was terrorizing her.

“You ready?” Josh’s smooth voice sounds grainy coming from the low quality television set. He stands behind you, hands moving up and down your sides as you look back at him bashfully.

“Is it on?” you respond, squinting as you look directly into the camera. Instead of answering you, Josh buries his face into your neck. You gasp as he begins to leave small bites in the crevices of your skin.

“Josh,” you whine, turning yourself around to bury your face into his chest and away from the camera. “This is kind of embarrassing.”

Sam feels a blush crawl up to her face as she begins to realize what kind of tape she’s watching. Josh’s hands move up your torso, dragging your shirt along with them. He removes your shirt, leaving you standing in just a pair of pants and a lacy, black bra.

“Just you and me here,” he murmurs, eyeing the camera before turning his attention back to you. “Don’t even have to think about it. Focus on me.”

You shudder as Josh unclips your bra, throwing it to the side as his fingers tweak your nipples. Your back arches, your chest fully exposed to the camera. Sam bites her lip to hold in her gasp as she pays close attention to all of your tiny reactions to Josh’s touches. You were really sensitive, she thought to herself as your body wriggled under Josh’s hold.

Josh leans down to kiss you, and you wrap your arms around his neck as you lean into the kiss. He guides you to the couch behind you, gently laying your body down as he crawls on top of you.

One of his hands moves slowly down your body, eventually finding its way down your pants. You arch your back, your chest colliding with his as his hand begins to move, no doubt fondling you under your clothes.

“Josh!” you cry out, finally breaking away from the kiss. “Oh, fuck!” Sam can see the way your nails dig into the skin on his shoulders, your hands grasping onto him as if he’s your lifeline.

He chuckles. “You like that?” He begins to unbutton your pants, sliding them down your legs. Even through the grainy screen Sam can tell that you're wet beyond belief, the unmistakable sounds of your juices ringing out as Josh teases at your slit. 

Your face scrunches in pleasure as you throw your head back against the couch. Josh groans, the sound traveling directly to Sam’s core, her focus hardened on the screen in front of her.

“Uh, uh!” Your moans come out in adorable little huffs, and Sam lets out some gentle gasps of her own as she begins to finger her own wetness, aroused from the sight of you and Josh together.

“Shit, baby, there you go,” Josh mutters, his fingers thrusting faster inside of you. His eyes are wide with arousal, the bulge in his pants prominent.

Your body jerks underneath him, toes curling as your hips buck wildly. “Gonna cum!” 

“Not yet,” Josh says as he pulls his fingers out of you, juices glistening on them. “Wanna see you cum on my cock.”

You whine, hips rutting as you chase his touch, but Josh steadies you with one hand on your waist as the other goes to remove his pants.

Sam’s breath hitches as Josh gets rid of his underwear, his hard cock springing to life. Her fingers move rapidly inside of her, the juices from her arousal allowing them to thrust in and out with ease.

Your hand rises to Josh’s cock, stroking it gently. He hisses, laying his hand above yours, guiding you in your movements. “Just like that, nice and steady,” he croons, melodic voice ringing out almost teasingly.

Josh positions himself against your entrance, and you release a strangled noise as the head of his cock finally breaches you, your juices coating him as he slides his way inside.

Sam focuses her attention on your face as Josh pumps himself into you. You bite your lip, head thrashing left and right as if you don't know how to position yourself. Your breasts jiggle with every pump of Josh’s hips, and he takes one of them in his hand, caressing the nipple as you gasp, body lurching from his actions.

“Fuck,” Josh groans as he pushes himself deep inside of you. “See this?” he says, turning his head towards the location of the camera. His hands grasp onto your hips, adjusting your position so that the camera gets a better view of the connection between you two.

Through the screen, Sam can see the outline of Josh’s cock indented in your stomach. He begins to thrust his hips, and the shape of him moves in and out of you in alignment with his thrusts.

“Josh!” you moan, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as you claw at his back. Your legs wrap around him as he begins to rut into you more frantically, grunts escaping from him as he does so.

“So dirty,” Josh hums. “You’ve been holding out on me, honey.” You shake your head frantically to disagree with him.

“No?” He laughs at your reaction. “But look at how wet you are with the camera watching your every move.

“T-that’s not it,” you stutter, but your protests fall onto deaf ears.

“Go on and tell Sammy how much you like it,” Josh urges you. Sam gasps, hearing Josh acknowledge her as he fucks into you. A cry leaves your lips as he thrusts into you particularly deep, your pussy swallowing his cock all the way up to the hilt.

You finally relent. 

“F-feels so good, Sam!” you moan, the fucked-out sound of your voice sending shockwaves of pleasure throughout her body.

“You should join us next time, Sam.” Josh says to the camera as continues his relentless thrusts against you. “Right?” He addresses his question to you, your body limp as your remain putty in Josh’s deft hands.

“Uh-huh,” you moan out, incoherent babbling falling out of your lips, practically numb from the pleasure Josh gives you with his cock.

“Gonna cum inside you,” Josh grunts, his hips beginning to lose their rhythmic pace, “and you’re gonna go and meet up with everyone as it slowly drips out of your pussy.”

“No!” you cry out, your arms clawing at Josh’s front. “They’re gonna find out!”

“Good. Fucking let them know who you belong to.”

With a final groan, Josh throws his head back as he releases inside of you, a high-pitched squeal sounding from you as your own orgasm falls upon you.

“Shit, look at that.” He picks up the camera from its position on the coffee stand, bringing it closer to your entrance. Sam watches, entranced, as his cum gushes out of you, your puffy, swollen walls clenching around nothing.

Josh trails the camera up your body, your stomach glistening with sweat. He lets it rest on your face, and Sam can see unshed tears that bead at the corners of your eyes, your gaze far away and pupils blown up from the euphoria of your orgasm.

“Smile and wave to the camera, baby,” Josh calls out.

You wave your hand shakily at the lens. Your lidded eyes, seductive smile, and overall fucked-out expression are all Sam needs to see as her orgasm finally hits her like a wave. With a piercing cry, her juices flow onto her fingers and her thighs, legs quivering beneath her. 

The tape finally ends with a crackle of static, allowing Sam a moment to catch her breath and recover from her release. She ejects the tape from the VCR player, stares at it for a second, and decides to hide it in the back of a cabinet, where she’s sure no one will find it.

Ignoring the heat that rises to her cheeks, Sam wipes her hand onto her towel as she continues on with her search, hoping to find clothes soon and you, safe and alive somewhere on these mountains.

[ghosttotheparty]

saw this prompt @newgrangespirals @steddieas-shegoes; needed to write it but also i kind of derailed it bc my brain has a mind of its own and its focus is steddie so i apologize also on ao3

He’s met with silence. 

Eddie supposes Murray Bauman must only ever be met with silence after speaking; he doesn’t seem the type of man to hold an easy, casual conversation. Especially now. 

Even Argyle is silent, his fork stalled on its way to his mouth as he looks from Murray to Jonathan, whose face is red, then Nancy, who’s equally flushed. 

Eddie looks at the table, his vision blurring. His hands are shaking.

“Murray,” Joyce says in a lethally calm voice. Eddie had forgotten she was here. “Go.”

“What do you mean, go?” Murray says, his voice quieter like he’s starting to sense what he’s just done. “We’re in—“

“Murray,” Joyce snaps. Eddie flinches. His fingers are knotting with the hem of the tablecloth, his food uneaten on his plate. “Go. I will deal with you later.”

There’s a moment of quiet before Murray’s chair scrapes across the uneven tile floor, and his footsteps retreat. And then there’s silence again. Tense, tense silence. 

“Steve,” Nancy says quietly, and Eddie looks up at her, glaring even though she hasn’t done anything to him. Jonathan looks at her too, anxious. Joyce sips her water, her hand shaking, and Hopper has his head down, his face hidden in his hands. 

“I’m good,” Steve says shortly, and Eddie looks at him, his stomach flipping. Steve is smiling a little, but it’s an awful smile. It doesn’t reach his eyes. He pushes his plate away with a breath like he feels just as sick as Eddie does, and he nods, but he doesn’t look like he’s really here. “I’m…”

“Steve, it— it wasn’t—“

“You told him my name,” Steve snaps, looking at her across the table, his eyes wide. Nancy looks like she’s going to start crying, and Eddie finds that he really doesn’t care if she does. “And you still…”

He laughs. Dryly, humourlessly. Eddie feels like he might throw up. 

Steve closes his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose the way he does when he feels a migraine coming on, and he laughs again. 

“Steve—“ Jonathan tries to say, but Steve just holds his hands up, shaking his head. 

“I’m just…”

He pushes his plate farther away, moving his chair back with a loud scrape, and then he’s leaving too, going upstairs. Eddie watches him go, watches Robin get up to follow him before she deflates, seeing the way Steve gestures for her to stay, to leave him alone. Robin’s hands are shaking, and Eddie can practically feel the anger radiating from her. 

The silence is back after a door slams upstairs. 

Joyce sets her glass down loudly, and she puts her hands flat on the table next to her plate, taking a deep, shaky breath. Hopper says her name softly, but she holds a hand up, shushing him. 

“I have never…” she starts slowly, her voice shaking with anger. “I have never been more disappointed in my life.”

“Mom—”

“Jonathan,” Joyce snaps, fixing a look on him, and he falls quiet. “…I did not raise you to be the other man. And Nancy, I…” She puts her hands on the table again, taking a measured breath before she looks at Nancy. “I am not your mother, but I think I am well within my rights to say I’m disappointed in you, too.”

“Ms Byers—”

“I don’t want to hear a word out of either of you,” Joyce says calmly before she touches her face, rubbing her chin anxiously as she stares at her plate in front of her. Nobody is eating anymore. Eddie still feels sick, but he also feels like he’s blended into the wall, like everybody’s forgotten that he’s here at all.  He looks at the table, at the fraying tablecloth that’s clutched in his fingers. 

“Unbelievable,” Joyce mutters to herself. “I can’t…” She doesn’t finish the sentence. Nancy takes a shuddering breath. She might be crying. 

“Eddie, dude.”

Eddie looks up, his eyes meeting Argyle’s. He’s looking over at Eddie anxiously, his head tilted a little bit, and as they look at each other, the others look at Eddie too. And suddenly he isn’t in the wall, but he’s the centrepiece of the table, the showstopper, the freak. 

It’s like they all remember what Murray said at the same time. 

“Eddie,” Joyce says, her voice softer than it was a moment ago. Kinder. Eddie looks at her. “Honey, if… if it is true. None of us have any problem with it.”

If it is true.

They all know it is. Eddie can tell just by looking at them that they all know. 

He feels so… small. Like he’s fifteen again. Like he’s new in high school, like he’s walking down the hallway and feeling all the stares, the eyes and eyes and eyes looking, watching, analysing, judging. Even though Joyce’s gaze is kind, and Hopper gives him a slight nod when their eyes meet. 

Eddie’s chest feels so tight he can’t breathe, each breath shallow and weak, and he’s kind of lightheaded, and he feels fucking nauseous. 

“I, uhm.” He clears his throat, his stomach churning, and he untangled his fingers from the tablecloth, taking a sharp breath. “Excuse me,” he says quickly, breathlessly, moving his chair back so fast it tips on the uneven tiles. He feels like he might pass out as he goes upstairs, hearing Argyle say something quietly behind him.

Upstairs feels even quiet than downstairs. Like every room could have an echo. 

Eddie finds a room that’s empty except for some cardboard boxes, and he shuts the door behind himself before he goes to the opposite side of the room, closing his eyes as he presses his forehead to the wall. It’s cold. 

He’s breathing too fast, and his head feels light, like if his eyes were open his vision would be dark. He wraps his arms around himself tightly, squeezing as he exhales until he wheezes, until there’s nothing in his lungs, and then he inhales as slowly as he can. In, in, in, until he can’t anymore. He holds it. Exhales. Does it all over again. 

Until he can breathe without suffocating. 

He turns to rest his back on the wall, and he slides down to the floor, closing his eyes and pulling his knees to his chest, exhaling shakily. 

He’s never felt like this before. 

He feels so… lonely. 

He feels almost cold, even though sunlight is streaming through the window, beams of golden light glowing across the floor. 

He cries. Even though he tries not to. He can’t help it, and the tears are absorbed by the sleeves of his hoodie. 

Steve’s hoodie. Eddie hates that he’s wearing it, even though Steve brought it just for him. Even though Steve specifically made sure he brought a black one, even though it smells like Steve. Eddie hates that Murray noticed that it’s Steve’s. 

He stays there for a while. Until the sunlight dims. 

He only lifts his head when the door breaks open, and Steve’s voice says, “Eddie?”

Eddie stands quickly, wiping his face and sniffling as Steve finds him and shuts the door behind himself. 

“Hey,” Eddie says, his voice wavering. “You okay?”

Steve nods. He doesn’t look like he’s been crying, but his eyes are shining blankly. And Eddie aches. 

He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t really have to. Steve blinks at him, hesitating. 

“I kind of already knew,” he says like it’s a question. “I just…” He exhales, swallowing, and Eddie knows he’s talking about Nancy and Jonathan. It. “I, like, convinced myself I didn’t care? That it— it didn’t matter?” 

Eddie listens, leaning against the wall, watching Steve push his hair back anxiously. 

“I mean— the world was ending, who gives a shit if— if I get cheated on? It’s so fucking stupid.” He doesn’t seem to realize he’s even talking to Eddie. He’s just talking. Saying what he didn’t say downstairs. “But I’m so… Jesus. Hearing it out loud, like— like Murray was fucking proud, like it was funny, I’m just… I don’t know.”

Steve deflates, leaning against the door, looking at Eddie, and his eyes are shining. 

“Embarrassed?”

“You don’t have anything to be embarrassed about, Steve,” Eddie says softly. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“...I trusted them,” Steve says quietly, weakly. 

“You trusted them,” Eddie repeats. “What they did is their fault, Steve, you didn’t do anything wrong. Trusting them wasn’t wrong,” he adds adamantly, watching the way Steve’s eyes shine. “You thought they were— they were trustworthy. You didn’t know they’d do something like that.” 

Steve sniffs, looking at the floor. His cheeks are flushed, and Eddie hates himself for thinking he looks beautiful. 

“You have every right to feel hurt,” Eddie says gently. Steve looks at him. He swallows. “And to feel angry.”

“What about you?” Steve asks quietly after a moment. Eddie blinks. 

“What about me?” 

Steve looks at him. His eyes flick back and forth between Eddie’s for a moment, intent and searching before he speaks. His voice is so soft. Kind. 

“He just outed you in front of all of us,” he says quietly. “You’re not angry?” 

Eddie blinks again. 

Steve looks at him so kindly. Eddie likes being looked at like this. Like Steve is listening to him even though he isn’t speaking. And Eddie realizes that Steve just knows, that he doesn’t question it. That he knows how Eddie is feeling, but is waiting for him to say it himself.

Eddie’s lip quivers, and he feels like a child again. 

“I…” He hesitates, taking a breath as a wave of nausea washes over him again. Steve just looks at him. “I’ve never come out to anyone,” he says weakly. He doesn’t recognize his own voice. “I’ve never gotten the chance to. My— My dad found some zines in my room when I was fourteen, and I didn’t… I didn’t have to say anything.” His voice is shaking. He’s never told anyone about this, not even Jeff. “The only time I ever heard that man say anything about God was when he was trying to beat the queer out of me,” he says, laughing the way Steve laughed downstairs. Humorless. Almost hysterical. “And he— he called Wayne to tell him everything because he…” 

Eddie trails off, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. 

“I told myself no one would ever know when Wayne took me in, but I swear it was like overnight, the whole town knew,” he chokes. “Because of— of my hair, or my clothes, or— or because people associate queerness with evil and— and Satanism, I don’t fucking know, but everyone knew and I…” 

He covers his face, his face hot with embarrassment as a sob escapes him, and it feels so stupid to be so upset right now, but Steve just waits patiently, listening and looking at him. 

“People keep taking it,” Eddie chokes, his face wet with tears now, looking at Steve desperately. “It’s mine, and people keep taking it from me.” 

Steve nods. 

And then he’s coming close and wrapping his arms around Eddie, and Eddie is crying into his shoulder, his hands clutching at Steve’s shirt the way they clutched at the tablecloth earlier, his fingers gripping the fabric so tightly his knuckles ache. He’s shaking. But Steve’s hands feel steady as they run over his back, and Eddie wants to die. 

Because Murray told them to have sex. And Steve is still here, holding Eddie while he cries, even though he knows Eddie is gay, even though Murray told the whole table that Eddie likes Steve, that it’s so painfully obvious that he likes Steve. That he’s pining, yearning. 

Eddie squeezes his eyes shut, pressing his face into Steve’s neck, his shoulders shaking as he sobs, and Steve moves a hand to hold the back of his head, his fingers pressing into Eddie’s curls to cradle his skull. And it’s almost fucking tender, and Eddie doesn’t know how he got here. Or where he’s going to go. 

Steve is murmuring to him. Quiet I got yous and It’s okays, his voice breathy and soft in Eddie’s ear. Eddie melts against him, and Steve holds him tightly, swaying with him, rubbing his back and scratching his fingertips over his scalp carefully the way he does when Eddie has nightmares. 

Eddie whines into his neck, choking on his breath, and Steve’s arm tightens around his waist like he’s preparing to catch Eddie if he falls. 

“I know,” he whispers softly. “It’s not fair.” 

Eddie shakes his head. 

It’s not fair. 

It’s fucking bullshit. 

The whole world thinks it knows him better than he knows himself. Even if they’re fucking right. It’s not fair. He’s never gotten to speak for himself, never gotten to really introduce himself. 

He aches when he finally stops crying, his fingers relaxing but still holding Steve’s shirt loosely, and his hands are sore. Steve runs his hand through Eddie’s hair. He waits, holding Eddie close even though he isn’t crying anymore, touching him gently, kindly, as Eddie catches his breath. 

“You know what I’m angriest at?” Eddie asks softly after a few moments, his voice weak and breaking from his crying. Steve touches his head again. 

“What?” Steve whispers. 

“...He’s fucking right.”

Steve is quiet. Eddie squeezes his eyes shut as they burn again. 

And then Steve is shifting, holding the back of Eddie’s head, and Eddie blinks his eyes open to look at him. Steve looks into his eyes intently, and it’s almost too much, but Eddie can’t look away, his hands tightening on Steve’s shirt. 

“About everything?” he whispers softly. Tentatively. 

Eddie looks back and forth between his eyes, and he nods. 

He feels sick again. He can’t breathe. 

Steve’s hand moves to Eddie’s face, and he’s so fucking warm. His thumb brushes over Eddie’s cheek so lightly Eddie can barely feel it. And Steve’s face relaxes, like he’s deflating, as he touches Eddie’s face, as his other hand presses into the small of his back. 

“I really fucking hate him,” Steve breathes. His eyes flicker across Eddie’s face, and they linger on Eddie’s mouth. Eddie whispers his name. Steve hesitates, stammering silently for a moment before, “Can you say it?”

Eddie steps back a little, and their hands fall even though they’re still close enough for Eddie to see the green in his eyes. 

“...Say what?” he asks hesitantly. Steve looks at him, his eyes shining, and he looks so desperate suddenly. 

“Everything,” he says breathlessly. “I wanna hear it from you.”

Eddie’s eyes fill with tears, but Steve looks like he’s begging, and Eddie is weak. 

“I’m gay,” he says softly, whispering like he’s worried someone outside might hear. “And I…” He takes a breath. Steve’s eyes look back and forth between Eddie’s like he’s looking for it. “I have, like… a huge fucking crush on you.”

Steve’s eyes drop to Eddie’s mouth like he’s watching his lips form the words. Eddie is trembling. Steve suddenly feels like he’s across the room, like he’s far away even though they’re standing so close. 

“I might fucking be in love with you, Steve, I…” 

He chokes on his breath, and Steve is touching him again, reaching for his face and wiping away his tears carefully, stepping closer. Eddie’s hands find his waist, and he grips his shirt again. 

Steve says his name. 

It always sounds so nice in his mouth. 

“You don’t– You don’t have to,” Eddie says, trying to tear himself away, closing his eyes as Steve holds his face and wipes his tears. “I know, it’s…”

“Eddie,” Steve whispers, his hands tightening on Eddie’s cheeks, and he’s so close now, their noses almost brushing. “Is it okay if I kiss you?”

 Eddie’s eyes widen. He leans back to see Steve clearly, and Steve looks so nervous that Eddie aches. 

“Really?” Eddie asks weakly. 

“I…” Steve pauses, brushing his thumbs over Eddie’s cheeks and licking his lips, hesitating. “I might be fucking in love with you too,” he whispers. 

Eddie closes his eyes, exhaling as Steve strokes his cheeks again. He gasps for breath when Steve’s forehead touches his, his hands tightening on Steve’s shirt before he slides his hands over his waist gently. He can feel the heat of his skin through the fabric. 

“Is it okay if I kiss you?” Steve asks again, his breath soft on Eddie’s face. 

“Yeah,” he chokes. 

Steve’s palms press to Eddie’s cheeks, and Eddie’s hands clutch at Steve’s waist desperately when Steve’s nose nudges his, when their lips brush. He feels like he’s dying. 

But Steve kisses him so softly, so sweetly. Holding his face tenderly in his hands and pressing a lingering kiss to his lips before pulling away to look at him, to check, even though Eddie is holding him against himself, even though Eddie’s chin lifts like he’s subconsciously searching for his mouth again. 

Eddie’s eyes flutter open, and Steve is smiling at him. It’s such a soft smile, and Eddie forgets everything that’s happened today. Except Steve’s lips on his. 

“Please,” he breathes. Begs. Pleads. 

Steve kisses him again. One of his hands slides to hold the back of his head again, his fingers threading into Eddie’s curls, and his other shifts down to Eddie’s neck, his fingertips slipping under the hoodie as his thumb brushes over Eddie’s throat so lightly it tickles a little bit. Eddie’s hands press to Steve’s waist and slide to press into the small of his back, and he’s probably wrinkling the fabric of his shirt, but neither of them cares as they tilt their heads, as their lips part. 

They pull away to look at each other after a few moments, close enough that they’re sharing breaths as they both breathe hard, as Steve’s fingertips scratch over Eddie’s scalp lightly and Eddie’s eyelids flutter for a second. And then Steve is tilting his head and leaning down to kiss Eddie’s neck, his fingers twisting in his hair to hold him in place, and Eddie is dying, letting out a whimper as his eyes close and his hands reach for Steve’s arms. His fingertips dig into the soft flesh of his upper arms, squeezing as Steve presses a slow kiss under his ear. His mouth is so warm. 

Steve kisses him when he lifts his head, and Eddie kisses him back desperately, reaching to wrap his arms around his neck, whining when Steve’s hands find his waist and pull. 

Then Steve pushes, reaching up to hold the back of Eddie’s head, and Eddie stumbles back, his fingers tangling in Steve’s hair and tugging when his back hits the wall.  Steve’s hand blocks his head from the wall, and Eddie smiles against his mouth, gasping when Steve’s tongue slips across his lip. 

“Steve,” he gasps, lightheaded as Steve sucks on his lower lip, as one of his hands slides under the hoodie to touch his skin. His palms are a little rough with calluses, scratching the sensitive scar tissue on Eddie’s waist lightly, and Eddie groans. 

Steve pulls away with a gasp, looking at Eddie desperately, frantically, his other hand holding his face. His cheeks are flushed pink, and his lips are shining, and his hair is a mess, and Eddie wantshimwantshimwantshim—

“Do you wanna leave?” Steve asks, his voice rough, and Eddie looks at his mouth, still panting. “I… I don’t wanna see any of them, I just…” He’s breathless too. His hand runs over Eddie’s scarring again almost mindlessly as his thumb brushes his cheek. “Do you wanna go?”

“Yeah,” Eddie breathes. 

Steve smiles softly, his eyes shining at him, and he leans in to kiss him one more time, caressing his cheek. (Caressing. Jesus.) Eddie hums, savouring it before they part with a quiet, slick noise that seems to echo in the empty room. 

Eddie feels lightheaded again, but he’s smiling like he’s sleepy as Steve shifts his hands to press his chin up, smiling at how pliant Eddie is. Eddie laughs under his breath, his hands holding Steve’s shoulders. 

“I’m so fucking… relieved right now,” Eddie whispers, his head falling to rest on the wall behind him. Steve kisses him again before he pulls him close, hugging him tightly. 

Eddie buries his face in Steve’s neck, wrapping his arms around him tightly, wanting to jump up and wrap his legs around his waist, to cling to him like a koala, wanting to climb inside him, to be as close as fucking possible. Steve exhales roughly, pushing a hand into Eddie’s hair. 

Steve holds his hand as they leave, ignoring the others that are gathered in the living room, even though they’re clearly waiting for the two of them. Eddie lets the door slam shut behind them. Steve drives. Eddie reaches over and puts a hand on his thigh, squeezing gently as he looks out the windows and watches the world go by. 

He’s kind of anxious about this, whatever it is. Anxious that he isn’t what Steve thinks he is, what Steve hopes he is, anxious that he isn’t enough for him. 

But he’ll try his best, he knows he will. He’ll bring Steve fucking flowers, he’ll write him fucking poems if it makes him smile. He’ll ravish him the way he deserves, touch him the way he likes, tell him every chance he gets how fucking beautiful he is. He’ll kiss him good morning and learn how to make his coffee just right. He’ll memorize the pattern of his moles and name constellations on his skin. 

He’ll remind him every single day, as long as Steve lets him have him, what he deserves. 

[luveline]

Hi Jade! Congrats on 46k! You deserve it, you are such a wonderful writer!!!

I'd like to request eddie and roan at the county fair, for the first time with reader. roan is probably scared of the ferris wheel at first and eddie probably spends way too much trying to win both his girls stuffed animals

Eddie and Roan —Eddie tries to win a stuffed animal for Roan, and an argument ends in hot dogs. (step) mom!reader, 1k

When you met Eddie he was really skinny for his height and occupation. Weight is different for everybody. You didn’t notice he was slight until he was taking his shirt off for the first time, and you realised you could see the lines of his ribs. 

He was beautiful, of course, and you wouldn’t change anything about him then or now, but you have to confess that the happy weight looks good on him. It’s only a couple of kilos in the two years you’ve been together, but it’s enough to accentuate his arms when he swings Roan against his chest. 

“I’m not carrying you around all night,” he warns her. “Y/N told you those shoes would pinch your toes but you didn’t listen.” 

“I like them,” Roan defends. 

“They’re pretty, but they’re too small. We have to let things go, remember?” Eddie lets out a groan as she climbs his shoulders to hug the back of his neck, pulling his hair, and kneeing him in the neck. “Jesus, Ro.”

You grab her before she can do permanent damage. She is much more polite in your hold. 

Eddie gives you a grateful smile and puts his hand between your shoulders to keep everybody moving. The walkway between the porta-potties and the Balloon Pop is crowded with kids staring at the flashing toys, and it’s a task and a half to avoid mowing them down as you traverse the fair’s wet grass. 

“I’m surprised they still opened,” you say. 

“It’s a Roan miracle,” Eddie says. 

You can feel the girl in question staring at you. You look down at her and she beams. 

“What?” you ask. 

“Hi, mommy.” 

“Yeah, hi, baby, what are you staring at?” 

“You have the purple light on your face.” 

“You have pink and orange!” you say, poking her cheek gently. “Right here.” 

It will never stop feeling good to hear her call you mommy. 

You shrug her further into your arms, determined to carry her for the rest of the night lest she hurt her toes, Eddie steering you around the crowd to get a huge rainbow cotton candy, which Roan promptly gets lost in her hair. Eddie pulls off strips of green and blue to feed you while your arms are occupied, but then he pushes his fingertip against your tongue and you ban him from any further feeding. 

He’s still laughing when he notices something behind you. “Girls, look, there’s the Bean Bag Toss. Remember I said I was good at that one?” 

“Wow,” Roan says, and you can’t help thinking she’s talking just to you, proved when she adds, “mommy, look, they have puppies in coats.” 

The wall of the Bean Bag Toss attraction is covered in all kinds of teddies and stuffies, the most alluring being a row of adorable puppies in coats that make them look like ladybugs, sharks, and frogs. “They do have coats, that’s so cute. Should dad try his luck?” 

“I’m gonna win,” Eddie promises. “Pick which one you want, babe, I’m a winner.” 

You don’t bother sighing. Eddie’s promised her now, and if he doesn’t win, it’s gonna cost him something stupid to buy one under the table. “Ladybug?” Roan whispers. 

“Which one do you like most?” you ask knowingly. “If it’s the ladybug, choose the ladybug.” 

“I like her spots.” 

“I like her spots, too.” 

You and Roan step back as Eddie pays for three goes. Then another three. Then six. He’s not bad, per se, but he’s not winning, either. You and Roan don’t give up faith in him. 

“Come on, handsome, you can do it!” you cheer. 

“You can do it,” Roan echoes. “Go, daddy!” 

Eddie glances back at you both without shame. He grins, and he turns back to the game, and he throws the beanbag. It lands. He throws the next. Before you know it, the sixth one whacks hard into the back of the last pot, a clean win for the low low price of twenty five dollars. 

“Which one do you want?” the carnie asks. 

“Which one, bubby?” Eddie asks. 

Roan is shy but polite as she hugs your neck. “Can I have the puppy with the ladybug coat, please? The red coat?” 

The carnie passes it to Eddie, who quickly says thanks and passes it to Roan. She goes a little white in the face, a split second for you to worry, but she beams and buries her face in the puppy’s neck. “Thanks, daddy,” she says. 

Eddie grins. He puts his hand on her back, his rings catching the light as he scrubs her shoulder. “You’re welcome.” 

You catch his eye. 

“Want me to do it again?” he asks. 

“Nuh-uh, Munson, we have a ferris wheel to ride.” 

“Gotcha. Ro, why don’t we give Y/N a break, huh? Let’s walk on our own feet.” 

Ro refuses on the grounds that you are So warm. She’s not that heavy, you let her stay. Eddie wrestles her back into his arms by the hot dog cart, stating many reasons: he’s strong, you’re too beautiful for carrying, he wants to see the puppy up close, and he wants to show off his muscles. 

He says that last part slowly. You’ve been caught. 

“Well, you’re my boyfriend,” you argue. 

Eddie takes your hand. You’re happy, but you realise quickly that he’s trying to take your ring. “Wait, fiancé!” you correct yourself, dragging your hand back despite his pulling. 

“No, that’s okay, if you don’t want it–”

“Sorry, sorry! Ro, tell dad we have to get married.” 

“Ro, tell mom she has to stop calling me the wrong thing.” 

“Um, no fighting,” Ro says, “can we get hotdogs now?” 

“I’ll buy you two if you tell dad to stop taking my ring.” 

Roan puts a hand on Eddie’s cheek. “Dad, can you stop?” Eddie stares at her in silence for a moment, then nods with an eye roll. “Tada. I want ketchup and pickles and cheese, please. And curly fries?” 

[laneywrld]

Oh Baby | part three

third and final part.

word count: 8.6k

Warnings: tame(er) smut. Pregnancy sex. childbirth.

progress is made, all thanks to your hormone gremlins.

It's safe to say everyone's favorite duo was back like they never left,  just with a lingering air of sexual tension and babies in the oven. 

You were never good at holding water, which is why you told your family and friends about it the very same night. Your friends were the most excited you'd ever seen them, and that was before you even mentioned who the father was. 

When Miles questioned who the father was with a meek voice interrupting said celebrations, Lewis stepped forward with a cocky smirk and a pep in his step that made you want to kick the back of his legs in. 

Instead, you gently motioned to Lewis with your arm thrown out. 

You'll never forget your friend's reactions like a scene from a telenovela; they all gasped dramatically and clutched their pearls. "Oh, I'm going to beat everybody's ass; why didn't we know y'all were together?"

"We are NOT together." You interrupt.

"So fucking?" Miles pipes up, and you feel like you are on stage with a literal spotlight directed at you, with the way they are all intently observing you, including Lewis.

"Not fucking either." You deny, slapping Lewis' arm as to say, help me out here. He shakes his head at you, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"It was a one-time thing that we both agreed would never happen again. This is the consequence of our actions that night." You put your hands on your pudgier stomach. "Yay!" you cheer quietly.

Whit stands first, and with tears in her eyes, she throws her arm over your shoulder, pulling you into a hug. Mori stands after already having been emotional since the initial announcement. She saunters over with a coo of "Aww, mama bear," joining in on the embrace. 

Lewis' boys stand up, Miles put his hand out to Lewis for a dap and ends up pulling him into a hug. "One step closer." He chuckles gripping Lewis' shoulder as he steps back. 

Daniel grins, approaching Lewis with his arms open and ready, "I'm proud of you, brother." He congratulates them through his own wide grin. 

You turn to Lewis with your bottom lip poked out as your friends kneel around your tiny belly. It doesn't even really look like there's a child in there, but that doesn't halt your friends from gently caressing it.

You wipe away an unsuspecting tear as Miles coos gently to your stomach, "Hope you don't get your dad's forehead, lil man."

"She's a girl!" Whit scowls, mushing his face away from your belly.

"We don't know what it is, actually." Daniel returns Whit's actions, mushing her to the right as he emerges front and center.

Lewis, who had stood off to the side watching your friend's love on you and your unborn baby, steps to your side, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you closer to him. He leaves a lingering kiss on your hairline before knocking Daniel over with his foot. 

"Don't call my child an it."

-

Your parents, on the other hand, were a completely different story.

Your full government name is shouted by your mother as she holds onto your dad for support. They both look like they've been shot, and the greater betrayal was that you were the one who pulled the trigger. "Oh, Lord in heaven, please!"

"Ma." You whine, "Don't look like that, guys."

Lewis parents are sat beside your own, his mom is eyeing you up and down a interested look dawning her face. When your dad wipes the suprise from his face he looks like he is beginning the five stages of grief. 

"My baby- I can't."

Lewis' mother slaps her ex-husband's thigh, motioning to the anxious look adorning their son's face. 

"Lewis," His mom all but shouts, "Are you the father?" It comes out in a squeal, one that has your parents pausing their dramatics and leaning forward in sync.

Lewis looks like a thief caught red-handed. And just as you looked to him for support earlier, he does the same to you. You shrug at him, throwing your hands into your pockets.

How does it feel to be thrown to the sharks?

He stutters for a while, so he avoids eye contact with your dad. When his father speaks up, his voice is demanding. "Be a man, Lewis, answer."

You almost feel bad watching as your guys' parents sit literally on the edge of their seats. Lewis has never felt more nervous in his life. Deciding to put an end to his misery, you close the distance between you two and intertwine your hands.

"The baby is mine," Lewis announces, and your family jumps up like they've won the lotto.

Unlike your friends, they don't rush to you guys; they rush to each other. Your mom and Lewis' mom bounce up and down as they hug, and like the annoying men your fathers are, they point at each other with wide grins on their faces before they are in each other's embrace as well.

You and Lewis face each other in perplexity.

He clears his throat, and you call out, "Umm, hello?"

"Aww, my baby," your mom cries, rushing to you with her arms held high. You still stare back at Lewis, and your face is set in bafflement as she presses her lips to your cheeks and then cups your belly. Your dad comes barreling through, quite literally pushing your mom out of the way, and he is enveloping you in a bone-crushing hug.

Your mom shouts your dad's name, whacking the back of his head, "The girl is pregnant. Be gentle."

He eases back and holds your face in his hands, eyes staring into you with such adoration that it makes you emotional all over again. "My baby is having a baby."

Choked up you see Lewis' parents loving on him in the same manner, you catch Anthony's eyes and he is unraveling himself from his son and pulling you into him. "I couldn't be any more happier, my girl." He talks quietly into your ear as he hugs you. 

As you talk to Lewis' mom, you see your dad and mom embracing Lewis, and you chuckle as he happily accepts their graces.

As time went on they just barely settled down.

"Oh please," you taunt. "You literally looked like you guys were ready to kill me." 

You watch on in puzzlement as they begin writing Facebook posts. 

"Yes, my darling." Your mother hums. 

"Before we found out Lewis was the father." His mom adds with a cheeky smile.

"So?" your dad motions between the two of you, relaxing comfortably on the loveseat. "How long has this been a thing?"

At your words, the grin is wiped from his face, "It's not."

"Have you defiled my daughter Lewis Carl Dav-"

"Dad!" you shout, groaning again as he turns to Anthony with an incredulity like no other. 

"So, maybe let's not do Facebook?" You suggest.

Lewis raises from beside you sauntering over to the dad couch, he sits on the arm of the chair beside your dad and talks lowly to them. You cannot hear what he says but by the way a grin covers the faces of the entire couch you know he's used his classic Hamilton charm on them.

He watches you as he speaks and shoots you a wink when he sees you trying to read his lips. 

"I think we're going to head back to our wing of the house." He announces and that's your cue to start lifting from the couch. 

You say your goodbyes, giving everyone smooches and welcoming the last of their congratulations. Lewis saunters over to you after doing the same and reaches for your hand. You graciously accept, waving one final time before he pulls you from the secondary house. 

"So how are we going to go about this?" You question as the two of you walk hand in hand.

"However you want."

"I don't like how you just agree with everything I say; give me some input; this is your child, too." You ensure, "I'm open to what you want as well."

"I want you to be close to me during the pregnancy. It'd make me feel better for sure." He hums.

"Can I ask how that'd work? You're going to be traveling for the season. I want to keep my job for as long as I can."

"I want you to be stress free, I meant what I said, I'll take care of anything you need. Please just- you don't have to quit forever; just let me take care of you while you're pregnant, at least."

He looks so concerned with the idea of you working that it has you reaching up to physically push the frown from his face. You stop in front of him and poke your finger on his face by the corner of his mouth.

"Stop pouting," you instruct, "I work for my dad, after all. I think he'll understand."

He breathes a sigh of relief, grabbing your hand again as you start walking ahead of him.

"I also want everyone to know the baby's mine." He adds. "Unless you planned on keeping them out of the light, which I get-"

"Done." You cheese. "I'll let the world know you knocked me up, Sir Hamilton. More requests?"

"Move in with me."

You don't say anything as you turn to face him. The moon creates a glow around the two of you as you glance up at him. 

"C'mon, I purchased the house because you liked it anyway," he shrugs. "You're there more than me during the season; Roscoe loves having you there; I love having you there. Plus, you love it there."

You stare up at him with an admiration like no other. It has him turning his blushing face to the side.

"I did say it'd be the perfect home for a kid one day, huh?" You squeal, wrapping yourself around him, "I'm so excited!"

He lifts you with one arm like you weigh nothing, and you wrap your legs around his waist.

"I'm excited, too." He hums as he walks you into the primary home. The lights are all off as he carries you up the stairs and into your room. He plops you down onto the bed, crouching down to pull your slippers from your feet. 

"I can do that myself, you know? I'm not that pregnant yet." You huff.

"What kind of man would I be if I had my baby mama doing anything?" He smirks up at you.

"All it took was me carrying your child for you to be awfully sweet to me, would've fucked you sooner."

"Always sweet to you," Lewis smiles up at you, "gotta stop talking like that to me if you don't want me to get the wrong idea."

"Mhmm." You fall back into the bed.

Lewis crawls onto the bed beside you, laying his head against your stomach; he pokes you, making you jump.

"Stop it, I'm ticklish." You warn; he only smiles, nestling further into you. "There's a baby in here." His voice is so low you almost miss it. 

"Thank you." You express gently, rubbing your fingers through his braids. 

"For what?" utters Lewis as his palm rubs in circular motions against your belly. 

"For giving me everything I've ever wanted."

"I always will."

-

Whoever came up with the saying that distance makes the heart grow fonder was truly right. Although it was less than ideal, you and Lewis were back as if it had never happened. In fact, it's like the time you had away from each other forced you into the beautiful dynamic the two of you have now. Neither of you wanted to be without the other again.

It had been three months since your beautiful discovery, so that put you at a whopping five months pregnant.

Your belly was now noticeably bigger and rounder, much bigger than it would've been if Lewis' family didn't have a history of twins. And it was most definitely getting in the way of things, literally. 

You huff as you struggle to squat down low enough to lift the box of blankets you packed. Just as you feel yourself get a good enough grip on the box and you begin to lift Lewis is by your side wearing a disapproving scowl.

"How many times do I have to tell you to stop trying to carry stuff out of here."

"Lewis," you huff, "It's literally just blankets."

"I don't care, sit down." He orders.

You stomp away from him, plopping down on the couch. He walks out of the front door and returns only moments later, waltzing into your kitchen.

He appears again with a plate full of orange slices, and you sigh as he approaches you.

"Lewis, there's only so many orange slices I can take in a day, buddy."

"The doctor said oranges are a good snack for month five," he pouts, "my kids need vitamin C."  

"Trust me, belly's fine."

Almost like they can sense the presence of food, they kick at you, and you, still not used to the sensation, cup your stomach in a gasp.

"Mhhm," Lewis disapproves, "feed my babies." He is setting the plate of fruit in your lap, bending quickly to peck your stomach. "I have a few more boxes to help them load and then I'll be taking you home, okay."

You can only offer him a puffy smile, your cheeks filled with fruit. He chuckles leaning over to ruffle your hair and he's pulling your forehead to his lips pressing a chaste kiss there before he's walking towards the stack of boxes.

You dreamily sigh, watching his glistening tatted back contract as he lifts the heavy mass. 

These fucking babies were turning you into a horny mess. 

It was the second week of June. A week later than the deadline, you promised Lewis that you'd move into his home. Well, your home now, too.

It was safe to say that Lewis meant business. You had spent the last few months bouncing from country to country, attending every race with him and basking in the free time with each other, which he had before and after races. 

When you opted to skip the Canadian Grand Prix under the pretense that you would go home to oversee the movers, he hesitantly drove you to the airport the day before qualifying. 

But when you got home and your preganacy brain got to you, you realized you scheduled your movers for the wrong saturday. You could've sworn Lewis was having a panic attack with the way he was in hysterics over the facetime call as you explained your situation.

He had booked himself a very late flight after his race and appeared at your doorstep with an armful of plant-based treats and a carton of strawberry fro-yo. "It's good for the babies." He smiled sheepishly as he rushed in. 

And here you were now, big and bored, spread across the couch as Roscoe snuggled into your side. You don't remember falling asleep next to your furry friend, but as Lewis gently shakes you awake with an adorable twinkle in his eyes you can't even be bothered to be irritated.

"Hey, mama," he coos. "You ready to head out?"

You nod, still groggy, swinging your legs over the couch and preparing to stand. Lewis catches you off guard as he swoops you into his arms, carrying you bridal style with ease. He calls for Roscoe as he slips through the front door. 

He opens the passenger side door of his car and sits you down softly, reaching over you to grab the seatbelt. And he's so close to you that it has your heart hammering when his hand swipes against your chest to pull at the belt. 

"I'll be back in a second, going to lock up here."

He smirks as he closes the door and you see him taking his precious time to make it back into your former home. 

You were no fool; truthfully, you were fully aware of the sexual tension that hung between you and Lewis since the night of his birthday. 

There were lingering touches and gazes that you were sure were sexually charged. You've even noticed Lewis' impure reactions to you, and it made your brain race with questions.

The driver's side door opening drew you from your thoughts as Lewis appeared this time covered in a white tee. You will away your disappointment and reach for his phone to play some music. When you do you see a message from a saved contact.

Marie

Isn't it about time for you to come see me again?

"You've got a message." You tell him nonchalantly even though your heart aches.

"From who?"

You try to hand him the phone, but he waves it off, reversing the car. "Can you read it to me?"

"Marie, she says, and I quote, Isn't it about that time for you to come see me again? You late to a link, Lew?" You laugh even though there isn't shit funny to you.

"You can block her." He declares casually. 

"Huh?"

"Block her for me." He orders, but he still hasn't turned to look at you. "She was just someone I saw when I was in Canada."

"Lewis, you don't have to end your fun on my account; I'm the pregnant one. You do know that you don't have to."

"Yeah." He pushes out hoarsely. You wait for him to continue, but he doesn't. In a way, you feel a sense of relief wash over you. Life with Lewis has felt so extra domestic lately. It was almost like the two of you were in a relationship, minus the physical affection. And even then, that physicality was there; you two just never kissed or, well, had sex.

You wondered if he felt it the same way you had.

But then the thought lingers in the back of your head: did he see her when you left to come home?

The way he was acting oddly uncomfortable with the conversation gave you your answer, and in the end, you couldn't fault him for it.

You do as he instructs, clicking Marie's contact and blocking her number, and then you continue on with your initial mission and scroll through Lewis' Spotify until you find music to your liking.

The rest of the drive is silent except for the soft melodies escaping his speakers.

When you pull into Lewis' driveway, he parks, turns off the car, and hurries to your side, opening the door before you even have the chance to do so. He opens the backdoor and holds onto your hand. "Roscoe, c'mon boy."

He leads you into the home like you haven't passed through the very same doors a million times before. 

"Which room did they move me into?" You question making your way upstairs.

"Oh," Lewis pauses, "I figured you'd be with me, in mine."

"Oh, okay."

You walk past him and further up the stairs as he trails behind you.

When you enter his room you beeline straight into his closet, well you guys' closet and sure enough there are more of your belongings taking up space. 

You stand on your tiptoes to reach for one of his tee shirts. He is behind you in an instant, one hand holding your hip firmly and forcing your feet back onto the ground. The other reaches up and grasps the shirt you had been aiming for. 

When you turn to take the shirt from him, he once again gives you the same disapproving gaze he'd given you earlier.

"Oh God, Lewis. I can't even get on my tiptoes anymore?" You question, pulling the shirt from his grasp.

"You could've tipped over." He argues, following you out of the closet. "You want a bath or a shower tonight?" He queries, already heading into the bathroom.

"A bath, please; my body is killing me." 

"Put this on," he orders, tossing you your robe. 

You strip from your shorts and tee-shirt throwing the robe on and waiting patiently for Lewis to emerge from the bathroom. 

When he does, he's shirtless, and the sweats are hanging low.

"I've got your bath running. Sit down," he orders, pointing to the bed. 

"Why?" you question, but you're already moving to the bed and plopping down. 

"Why do you question everything?" He chuckles. And he is slipping behind you in an instant, his hands instantly moving up to knead at your shoulders.

You can't help the moan you let out. "Fuck, that feels great. Thank you."

"It's the least I can do, letting my youngsters beat you up all day."

You can only chortle as his hands move along your back. 

"Gonna come out feisty, like you."

"I am not," you argue.

"yeah, okay." He whispers, his hands traveling lower and lower. His hands are gripping your sides firmly as his thumbs massage masterfully into your back.

"Fuck, Lewis." You mewl.

"Feels good?"

"Yeah." 

You almost cry as you feel him lifting behind you, but when he pushes you onto your back gently and cradles your legs, the whine in your throat is replaced with a nervous gulp. 

His hands caress your thighs, moving up and down expertly, and you bask in the comfort.

"I didn't sleep with her in Canada, never even saw her this year."

"Oh," you murmur with your eyes closed. On the outside, you were calm, but mentally, you were shrieking tears of joy. 

"Haven't been sleeping around." He announces again. 

When you say nothing, he persists, "Haven't been with anyone since you."

You know Lewis so well that you can predict his face even before you open your eyes.

His voice sounds a bit gravelly and shaky, and you know he's peering up at you through his perfect lashes, waiting to gauge your reaction. 

So when you open your eyes and see him hovering over your legs exactly as you imagined, you can only shoot him a purposeful smile.

"I figured. You've spent all of your time with me." You shrug. He nods relief washing over him. In all honesty he was happy that you recognized the switch in him. Recognized that all of his focus was soley on you and your unborn babies, who you've nicknamed belly. 

"Five months is a long time to go without sex." You declare, and he bobs his head to the side, 

"Not really, not for me. What about you?" 

He feels his heart leap with joy at your next words.

"I haven't slept with anyone else since you either. I've gone longer without sex, so five months would've been easier if I wasn't lugging around two hormone gremlins." 

You both share a laugh as you motion to your round belly. 

"You're suffering then?"

"Suffering like a motherfucker." You huff.

"I can fix that."

You sit up, coming face to face with him; he stares at you intensely. It was your idea, not to mention the night you two had shared, as well as your doing, to solidify the fact that you two would never sleep together again.

However, your emotions were running, and your hormones were at an all-time high, so could anyone really even blame you for pulling his mouth to yours in a searing kiss?

Like the time before, it's like Lewis is ready for you. He pushes you back down, his legs still holding him above you. This time, Lewis takes the initiative, spreading your mouth open and entering like it's home. One of his elbows is being used as leverage to hold him above your bump. His other hand has your jaw in a tight grip, holding you in place.

Your hands are exploring his body. Traveling the expanse of his chest to his back, anything you can reach. 

He disconnects his mouth from yours, his head turning towards the bathroom. "Shit, sorry."

He stands, shooting you a sorrowful look as he beelines into the washroom.

When he appears again, he is looking at you with hungry eyes, but his words are so domestic that you are ready to jump his bones.

"Made your bath too hot. Got time to let that cool down."

You smirk at him, beckoning him over. You're both sitting angled towards each other and just as you move forward to touch his lips with your own he is moving his head to the side forcing you to peck the corner of his mouth.

You lean back with furrowed brows. "What was that?"

"I want to clarify something first, this time. So we won't have a repeat of last time."

Damn, you scream to yourself. You were already extremely horny, and now you'd have to sit and listen to him declare that this was a means of pleasure only. Which in return would most likely turn you off. So yay, no life-altering dick for you tonight.

"Go on then." You wave your hand, and Lewis laughs.

"Patience, you horny beast." 

You gasp, thumping his head.

"But really, I, um, wanted to let you know this for a while. It's been on my mind even heavier since my birthday."

"Okay," 

"I love you." He blurts, "and not in the conventional friendship way, you're my best friend but I love you more than that. And I have for as long as I could remember."

You feel like you've been freed from hell's gates; everything in you feels so much lighter, so much more merrier. 

Like always, when Lewis tries to find the words to say, his head is tilted downwards to the side as he works through what to say. His heart is beating a mile a minute, and he can't find it in him to look at you quite yet. He has to say how he feels now, or he'll never say it.

"I'm the man I am today because of you. You've been with me every step of the way. You've never turned your back on me or gotten sick of me; you've been everything I've ever wanted from the beginning. I've tried to fill the void of not having you with other... distractions, should I say. And it never made me forget about you, never made me want you any less, always made me want you even more."

You choke up at his words. This was all you've ever wanted to hear spoken to you.

"I love you and I feel like I have ever since I've been able to have complex emotions. You are my childhood dream. Over the racing and the luxury lifestyle, over anything. I've always wanted you more than anything. I meant every word I said to you on my birthday, and I'm taking accountability now for the argument. I wanted to hear you say that you meant the words you said to me, like I meant the words I said to you. I should have just admitted it. But I didn't, and I was a fool; I regret it every day. But I love you all the same."

He peers up at you through his lashes and through his own teary eyes he can see the tears bubbling over the surface as you poke out your bottom lip in your classic pout.

"Oh, Lew," you whine, wrapping him in such a tender embrace. "You don't know how long I've waited to hear you say those words."

He nestles his head into the crook of your neck, and you can feel wetness glide down your collar.

You grasp his head in your hands, cupping his cheeks so that you can see him eye to eye.

"I love you," you state. "More than the entire world, I've always told you that, and I've always meant it."

His lips twitch, and his eyes soften. Finally, he breaks into a smile. "How much I love you is unexplainable, Lew. I've been fighting myself forever about it, frustrated that I'd never see anyone like I see you. I've been settling because I thought I couldn't have you. You're all I've ever wanted. And I meant what I said that night, too. I was made for you and only you, always only ever been yours. No one has had my heart but you."

This time, the kiss is passionate and slow. You taste saltiness as you succumb to each other. You separate with a gasp, hand coming down to soothe your stomach. "They're beating me up again." You whisper, watching as their tiny feet nudge against your stomach.

Lewis bends down, pressing pecks to your bulging belly, "Think they're just celebrating."

You watch from above with a loving smile on your face. "My little family." You coo, bringing your hand up to rest in Lewis' hair.

"I'm going to marry you, you know that, right?" Lewis peers up at you. 

"I sure would hope so." And you lean down to press a kiss to his forehead. 

"They're not stopping." He announces, his hand covering your own on your belly.

"They always get excited when you're close to me." You admit. 

His eyes crinkle at your words, and his mouth spreads into a grin.

"I'm happy to be with you guys, too," he coos to your gut, "but we have to let Mama relax, okay." At his words, the thumps from inside of you come to a halt, and you and Lewis marvel at each other.

"Wow," you whisper.

"Come on." He is standing from the bed, holding his hand out for you. 

He helps you stand from the bed, gently pulling you into the bathroom.

When you're inside, he faces you towards the mirror. He unclasps the necklace sitting it onto the bathroom counter and slowly his hands travel to your front to untie your robe. It falls off of your shoulders and he proceeds to drag it down your arms and from your body.

You stare at him through the mirror with no shame as he trails his eyes along your body.

"Most beautiful woman in the world." He hums. You're standing in front of him naked as he reaches past you to drop your now discarded robe beside your necklace.

As he does so, he presses lingering kisses to your neck. 

He steps back, holding out his arm to direct you into the bathtub.

"Get in with me?" You suggest as you notice him standing off to the side. 

Lewis curses himself for feeling like a shy virgin around you every time you even remotely flutter your eyes at him. 

"Please." You add submerging yourself into the warm water.

Lewis slips from his sweats, easing into the tub at the other end.

"Remember when we used to have baths together as kids?" You reminisce, blowing a pile of bubbles at him.

Lewis leans back, his arms dangling over the edge. "Simple times."

"You remember when you pooped?" You tease, leaning forward.

Lewis splashes you a tiny bit, bubbles landing on your face. "That was you," he denied.

"Big fat liar." you cackled. 

Lewis sees you inching towards him like a tiger on the prowl. You're in his lap before he knows it, your arms locked around his neck. He wraps his own around your waist.

No more words are spoken between you two. You lift your soapy hand and tilt his head up to you, pressing your mouth to his.

Lewis groans into your mouth as you settle over him.

"Want you so bad." You confess, your lips trailing from his mouth to his jaw and down into the crevice of his neck.

Your hand reaches down between the two of you, and you smile against his skin as you grip him.

So hard already.

Lewis throws his head back against the porcelain as you wrap your hand around him in a snug grasp. 

You're in his ear saying some of the most obscene words he's ever heard as you sit on top of him, tugging him. He can feel your belly rubbing against his, and it's driving him mad.

"Want to make love? Can we do that, Lewis? Make it even better than the last time."

Lewis gasps out his words as you sit back on his legs and use both of your hands to twist and tug on him. He bites on his bottom lip and grips you tighter. "Fuck, yes. Please"

You can only smile at him as you observe his resolve crumbling. You don't stop even as he begins to spasm and continually moan out your name. He grunts one last time before it transforms into a fit of masculine whimpers. He literally falls apart in your hands as you massage him through his release. 

"Got another one in you?" You ask, already positioning yourself over him.

He opens his eyes, pupils blown and wild. And then his bitten and swollen lips spread into a dopey smile.

You give him a peck; widening said smile before you line him up at your entrance. The smile is wiped from his face as his facade once again contorts to one of pure pleasure.

You can only gasp and move your grip to his shoulders as you sink onto him inch by inch until you feel him nestled tightly into you.

"Fuck." He groans.

You ease your body up and down over him slowly, he's so fucking big.

You moan as you continue your slow pace. You want to take your time with him. But it was getting increasingly hard feeling that delicious stretch every time you lifted over him.

Lewis hasn't taken his eyes off of you since you sank down onto him. He is staring at you like you hung the sun, moon, and the stars yourself.

He uses both of his hands to pull your mouth towards his, "I love you." He breathes into you, pressing passionate pecks onto your lips. He holds your face close to his, maintaining eye contact as you roll over him. 

Your mouth drops open as you feel him lift his hips over and over. Between his eyes piercing into you and the slow, languid strokes he's giving you, you weren't sure what would throw you over the edge first. 

You moan quietly as you feel the blaze building in your belly. He's so big that it feels like he's entering you for the first time all over again.

You feel inebriated by him as he whispers sweet nothings into your ear. He's still just as vocal as he was the first time, and it's putting you in overdrive.

Lewis is thrusting up into you with a force that has the breath leaving your lips in sharp pants with every re-entry.  

Your foreheads fall against each other, both of you watching your bodies drive against the water.

Lewis is lifting you from his lap like you weigh nothing. He turns you around to face the opposite way. You gasp as he pulls your arms up and directs you to hold onto the end of the tub in front of you. You're on your knees, arms holding your upper body out of the water. You feel his knees slide in between your spread legs, and his hands caress up and down your wet back. 

One hand settles on your shoulder, the other on your waist, and then he is sliding into you slowly. You hang your head, letting out a deep breath, "fuck." you cry out as he strokes at such a deliberately slow momentum.

As he pushes into you, his grip on your shoulders forces you back at the same time. He's going so slow but getting so deep that it has you tightening your grip. 

When he hits your spot, you lurch forward.

He pulls you back onto him, his hand tightening against your waist.

"Don't run. Stay with me." He orders, his voice is deep and raspy. "This what you wanted, remember?"

You nod your head, eyes closing shut as your thighs quiver. "Oh god."

"Want to make you feel better." He moans. "I was waiting for you to let me see this pretty pussy again." He hums, and you feel his hands spread you apart.

"So fucking pretty, so tight."

It was like he was tormenting you, giving you an inch and then taking a mile every time he pushed into you slowly just to have you wallowing for more when he pulled himself out.

"You're being greedy, mama." He chuckles as you push yourself back onto him. "take what you want then."

At his words, you begin to swivel your hips back at a much quicker pace, feeling his pelvis brush against your ass with every motion.

"C'mon, take it." he grunts. "that's right, want it so bad."

You pull yourself forward, only to spiral back into him repeatedly. Lewis is a mess behind you, his hands reaching up to hold his braids from his face. He kneels there and allows you to use his body in any way you please. 

He takes in an unsteady breath when you tighten around him. As you drag your pussy over him, he feels himself being tugged with you. "So tight." he moans, "don't even wanna let me go."

He pulls you up by your waist, pulling your back flush against his chest, and begins hammering into you over and over. One hand travels to your throat, and his grip is temperate. 

"All you needed, huh? Feel better already?"

You nod your head, yes, head falling back onto his shoulder. He pummels into you stroke after stroke until he feels it. You constrict around him, hands coming to grip his arm, and you moan his name over and over. 

He doesn't show you any mercy. He keeps up his fast pace as you writhe in his arms. His head falls, and as he feels himself come undone, he bites down on your shoulder with a growl that lights your body on fire all over again. You feel him spurt into you, and you whine as he nestles himself into your core further. 

After a while, Lewis pulls himself from your gut with a hiss. He reaches down and unplugs the drain. He sits, spreading his legs and pulling you in between them. When you're nestled against his chest, he sighs, once again placing his hand on your neck to angle your face towards his. He places a sensual kiss on your lips before letting you go with a smile.

"Should I run us a bath, or do you want to hop in the shower for a quick wash?"

You turn to the left, observing the standing shower, and you scoff. "you've ruined my legs, Lew; I couldn't stand in there if I wanted."

"Bath it is." He grins, already reaching for the knobs.

"Plus, I want to sit with you like this for a while. Bask in this."

"I love you," he expresses, "I don't think I'll ever get used to this."

_

Spoiler alert: he never did. As the days went on and turned into weeks. Weeks turned into months, and Lewis never changed his affections. You two were in a constant honeymoon phase, which you were sure was permanent.

You two were perfect for each other in every sense and made each other whole. 

The dynamics that made you two the perfect friends bled over into your relationship, and things were flawless, to say the least.

Until, you felt a popping feeling and then a gush of water fall between your legs. Lewis was on his way home from the airport having left to race in Singapore he was relieved that he'd be back three days before your expected due date.

But when he gets a call from his best friend and hears your cranky voice in the background, his heart hammers with nerves. 

"Miles, I swear to fucking god," he hears you groan. "if he doesn't have his high yellow ass to the hospital before I push these goddamn babies out of me, I will kill him. Tell him I will kill him."

"You heard her, man," Miles stammers. He hears commotion over the phone, and he gives up his useless attempts to grab either of your attention.

"Oi Miles!" He hears a slap in the background. "Oh my fucking god," you cry out. "Where is Whit? I don't want your help, fucking men."

Miles reappears on the screen; he looks disheveled and like he's just been in a cat fight, "Hey, brother." he pants. "I'm trying here, just how far are you?" 

"Lewis leans forward, seeing his ETA on his driver's screen. "Only ten minutes. Is she okay?" His voice is full of concern, and Miles squawks.

"Brother, ten minutes is too long. She just absolutely beat my ass for putting the wrong treats in the bag. There are a million gummies in here. How am I sup-"

"Gushers, Miles. On the top shelf of the pantry behind the rice cakes."

"Why the hell are there gushers behind rice cakes?" He cries out, rushing to the pantry. Lewis sees you in the background as Miles breezes by.

You stand in the middle of the living room face set in a pout one hand grasping the a bag of organic gummies and the other holding your phone to your ear. 

"Whit!" He hears you cry out, "I'm about to have these fucking babies alone with fucking Miles! Fucking Miles! And he gives me fucking Annes organic fruit snacks, Whitney! Why the fuck would I want organic candy? And Lew hid the gushers, and he's not going to be here in time, and I don't know where he put them."

Miles drops his jaw, halting his reach for the treats. "Hey, I'm trying my best! I want the best for you and my godchildren. I'm trying here!"

"Your trying isn't enough; obviously, I need the god mom. Whit! Fucking men, can't even find my fucking candy." You call out again. 

"Ugh- did she just stomp away from me." 

The call disconnects, and Lewis lets out a sigh of relief as he pulls into his neighborhood. He rushes out of the car, running up the steps of you guys' home. When he enters the foyer, he rushes to where he saw you last on the phone. Only you're not standing in the living room in distress. It's Miles slumped onto the couch with a family pack of gushers in his lap. He notices the two gusher wrappers beside his friend, and he storms up to him, snatching the box and slapping the side of his head.

"Where's my baby?" 

"Upstairs, y'all are going to learn how to appreciate me one day. I'm the godfather to your children-"

Lewis smacks his teeth, rushing up the stairs and into your bedroom. He sees you lugging your baby bag onto the bed, and he rushes over to you, pulling it from your grasp. 

"Hey bunny, I'm here." 

Your lip wobbles as you look up at him, and you let out a relieved cry. Lewis opens his arms to embrace you, and you quickly pull the box from his hands, stuffing it into your bag. 

"I was looking for these." You cried.

Lewis, used to your pregnant shenanigans, allows you to cry tears of relief for the sudden appearance of your after-labor treat. It's all you'd been asking for for weeks, but your doctor had you on a strict diet.

"Bunny," he persists, his arms open. You sniffle, stepping into his embrace.

"How are you feeling?"

"My vagina hurts, and I was scared you weren't going to make it." 

He chuckles, holding you close to him, "always going to make it when it comes to you guys."

It's safe to say your mood didn't get any better when you made it to the hospital. 

Lewis was by your side as you held onto his hand for dear life.

"Baby," he coos, "you're doing great."

"Oh my god," you wince, pulling your hand from his as you clutch the sheets. "Get the fuck away from me."

He looks baffled as you curse up a storm.

Lewis takes a step back only to be nudged forward again by the doctor. "Trust me, she'll murder you if you get away from her."

He holds onto your hand again, using the towel to wipe the sweat from your hairline.

Even now as you take in deep breaths and hang your head like you're about to die, Lewis think you are beautiful. You're glistening with sweat and throwing out words that would make a pastor faint but you're still beautiful with your freshly done birthing braids and bewildered face.

"Oh fuck this! Count the shit, measure the shit, whatever, and check again. I don't care if I'm not dilated enough; make it enough! Get these babies out of me."

You were regretting your decision to go all-natural as another contraction rippled through you. You let go of the sheet and grasp Lewis' hand again.

You look up to him, and he is staring at you in pure adoration. "I promise, you've got this." He encourages.

You feel tears of relief pool as your doctor let's out a direct order. "And we're there, when I get to three you push, okay."

You only nod as Lewis crouches down, "Push like hell, bunny."

You don't count how many times you hear him count to three or how many agonizing pushes you give until you hear the first cry. You're momentarily distracted as you watch them hold your baby into the air. 

"Come on, Mom, got to keep going," your doctor orders. 

You exhale, taking another deep breath as you push again. Lewis remains by your side, holding your hand and coaxing you through the pain.

"You're doing so great, bunny. So proud of you. We're about to meet our babies; we just have to push a little bit more." 

His words are all you need to get through another insufferable ninety seconds before you hear an even louder cry. 

Lewis kisses the top of your head as you fall back in exhaustion. "So proud of you, baby, hmm. I love you."

You're no longer the angry woman you were twenty minutes ago. You're looking up at Lewis with tired eyes that still glow with love and excitement.

"Baby boy came first." Your doctor hums settling him on one side of your chest, Another nurse comes forward settling your second baby on the oposite side. "And his sister came to stake her territory after."

You cry out, but it comes out in the form of a laugh. Your hands come up to hold both of your babies against your chest. Lewis crouches down, eyeing you three in amazement.

"My beautiful family." 

He places a kiss atop each head, watching as they instantly settle down amongst your warm body. 

You've never felt so much love in your life. You think back to all of the times you felt you were destined to be alone, all of the times you craved for someone to love you unconditionally. You gave up hope that you'd find it in a partner, so a baby was all you craved. But here you were with a man who loved you more than it was possible for love to exist. Here you were with two products of that love. 

You order the nurse to remove one of the railings so the Lewis can nestle in beside you. The doctor suggest for him to remove his shirt and he does so quickly, gently sliding beside you. You motion for him to grab the babygirl and he eases her onto his chest with ease. You peck his head as you watch the tears glide down his face. 

"I just love you all so much." he cries. 

And you know exactly how he feels as you two bask in the moment.

You think back to the moment that made this all possible, laying in Lewis' bed as the words leave his mouth, "It's something about loving someone so much that you want to fill them up with another part of you."

Looking at your two babies, you could tell they each were going to represent a part of both of you. As your daughter lets out constant noises, Lewis turns to you with knowing eyes, "Just like her mama." Your son's eyes pop open at the sound of his sister, and you coo, "Brother bear."

"Do we have names ready?" The doctor hums.

-

y/u/n

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y/u/n I want to share this love I found with everyone. you deserve to meet my happy family after all of this time. Of all of the things that I wanted to be, being a mother was always my true calling. It's not easy, but it's worth it. To my babies, mommy loves you always; when the world is cruel, and your heart makes you feel like a fool, know that I will be there always. To LJ, my daring little boy, I see your father in everything you do; you will always be my baby bear, so strong and courageous, but with a mind so strong and a heart so big, you're forever unstoppable. My baby, Giana, Gigi girl, you came into the world demanding to be heard. You're fierce and bold in all of the best ways. Already, I admire the way you think and the things I know you will do. You heal a part of me I didn't know needed healing. You're my favorite girls girl, I love listening to you yap puppy, I love that you love talking to me. Always stand your ground, girly; never dull your light or lower your voice for anyone or anything. If no one listens, know I will. And to the love of my life, who has given me everything I could've ever wanted, plus more. You've outdone yourself, Lew; there aren't enough words to articulate how much I love you. Still my best friend, soon to be my husband, forever and always, the love of my life <3

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lewishamiton I can never think you enough for all that you've given to me. I love you more than life bunny. ❤️

user okay but the family of crochet animals. PUPPY? BEAR? CHEETAH? BUNNYYYY? 🥲

whitwhit still so proud of you mama ❤️

y/u/n the best god mommy in the world! I love you.

landonorris Mother🤰🏽Literally. Beautiful souls, even more beautiful children.

y/u/n love love love you Lando

user i always knew they'd get together one day, my happy heart!

lewishamilton

liked by charles_leclerc, mercedesamg, and 7,796,801 others

lewishamilton Thank you will never be enough for all that has been given to me. I love you, bunny, and every time I think it's impossible to feel more than that, you prove me wrong. To the rest of our lives together, to our children, and to the life I've had with you. We're in this together, forever. Daddy loves you, LJ, and Gigi, forever here, forever loving you.

charles_leclerc So happy for you man!

sebastianvettel never have you been happier man, congratulations.

user you mean to tell me that all of this time we thought he was uncle lew and whole time HE'S THE PAPPYYYY

lewishamilton like these are my kids, that my son. I was so bothered by that ngl. THEY LOOK JUST LIKE ME.

user you tell us not to assume and then when we don't assume you want us to assume what do you want from us sir?!?!

so this is the end that's not the end, I'll most likely make blurbs for their future 🌚

hope you enjoyed it.

not proofread sorry for any mistakes I was rushing honey

@barcelonaloverf1life @mitruscity

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

45 / 1.9k / soap soulmate au, part 11

...

Mercenaries can be paid off for just about anything.

So when Price rings your cell phone to propose a trade—Laswell had your number, naturally—Horangi has no qualms with fishing it out of your pocket. You glare at him, but he doesn’t bother giving you anything more than a dry look before he answers it.

You hear Price’s voice from the speaker in Horangi’s ear. "Was wondering what was taking you lot so long."

Horangi sighs. It never ends, apparently. "What do you want?" he asks.

"Just to talk," Price replies. "What's your rate?"

"Come again?" Horangi asks.

"We're all soldiers here. Unfortunate that our mission came at the cost of yours, but we can all walk away happy, hm? I want to make sure you don’t go uncompensated. That’d be a shame."

Horangi scowls, but one of your squadmates in the back seat grips your shoulder and shifts his weight toward the phone in obvious interest.

"What do you have in mind?” Horangi asks.

"First, your rate."

"Too rich for your blood."

"Try me."

Horangi narrows his eyes. Then he shrugs and throws out a number. It's far more money than KorTac’s real fee, but before you can decide whether to say something, Price speaks again.

"We'll double that."

"Will you now?"

"I will. Even pay you all directly if you like. No need to involve the company. Just keep your handler’s cut for yourselves. I won’t say a word," Price says. "That should be good enough, shouldn't it?"

Horangi leans back, tapping the steering wheel in thought, but you can tell he's interested now. "What's the job?"

"Not a job, really. Just a favor. Let us have custody of your songbird, and the money's yours. Make up some story about how she got away or got shot if you need a scapegoat. We’ll turn a blind eye if you prefer. Keep the record nice and clean."

Horangi glances at you. “Songbird’s worth a lot to the company.”

“You’re not the company, now are you? You already did the damn job. You should get paid. You and your team.”

He likes the sound of that. Price's offer turns both of your situations into something everybody can be pleased with. Get the mercs paid for what they lost. They get the girl. Fine by him. He hums in thought. “Cash in hand.”

There’s a beat of silence on Price’s end. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Cash in hand,” Horangi says again. “Or no deal.”

“Are you sure about that? Wired funds spend just as well as cash.”

“I can afford to be picky, my friend.”

Another long pause. “Is that so?”

“Apologies. I’d be happy to consider your deal if I hadn’t already made a better one with someone else. He’s willing to pay cash.”

“Who?”

Horangi scoffs and ends the call. He tosses your phone into the backseat floorboards and ignores your stare burning into the side of his head. “Don’t worry, rookie,” he tells you. “You know it’s a better deal than you’d get back at base. You’ll thank me one day.”

…

But you don’t make it back to base.

It’s an ambush. A trap—Horangi doesn’t see the charges on either side of the road until it’s too late, and the truck transporting you flips forward onto its roof. One minute, you’re feeling the melted snow in your boots; the next, you’re looking down at the road through the windshield. Then you’re coming to in a haze of gunfire and hoarse voices barking call-and-response orders all around you.

It’s not until your teammates have evacuated the wrecked truck that you attempt to move yourself and do the same. Maybe they plan to come back for you; maybe they think you’re dead. Maybe you are dead. You really fucking hope not. Whatever death has in store for you, it had better not force you to contend with the agonizing pain of a dislocated shoulder and broken glass buried in every second nerve ending.

You push against the seatbelt holding you to the seat, having to twist out of your coat just to slump to the pavement. You’re still ziptied, but you have to move. If whoever laid this ambush finds you, you're done for.

Somehow, all you can think about is Johnny. If he could see you now, he’d never let you hear the end of it. He’d lecture you like a goddamn recruit. You hate how much you want to see his stupid face get angry at you again.

There’s a long lull in the gunfire. Then the sound of approaching footsteps. Someone curses and orders the others to “spread out,” searching for your scattered teammates—for survivors.

Your teammates aren’t coming. You’re on your own.

Then you remember Price’s call and Horangi swiping your phone from your pocket.

Desperately, you shoulder your way back into the wreckage. Somehow, you find it. The screen is cracked, but it still lights up when you wrestle your bound wrists under your feet and touch the screen. Thank Christ. You redial Price's number from the call log.

He picks up on the first ring. "Go for Price."

"I need to talk to Johnny."

There's a moment of crackling silence through the line. Then: "Soap's tied up at the moment. What's going on?"

"I don't know. Ambush. The car flipped." You wince, feeling broken glass cut into your shoulder. The slushy pavement under you is turning ruddy. Oh, that’s your blood. "It's bad."

Price swears under his breath. "Where are you?"

"Near the base of the mountain. In the side. There's a... a lot of trees. Twenty hostiles. I think. I can't see."

"Stay put. We'll find you. Don’t do anything stupid in the meantime."

"I want to talk to Johnny."

"For God’s sake. You can talk to him in person when we find you. Just sit tight."

"Let me talk to my goddamn soulmate," you hiss. You put as much venom into your voice as you can, but even you hear how weak you sound.

Price says something away from the speaker you can't quite make out. There's shuffling and then another familiar voice picks up, low and gruff, and tinged with a Scottish burr.

"Hen?"

The wave of relief that sweeps through you renders you mute for a second.

That makes the worry in his tone swell. “You okay? They hurt you?"

The concern in his voice has your throat tightening. Dammit.

Before you can reply, there's another burst of gunfire and a hostile voice much too close by for comfort. You grab the phone and edge your way further into the tenuous safety of the wreckage. You clutch the phone in your hands, barely clocking the glass screen digging into your palm.

The sound of your voice cutting out over the line triggers Soap’s anxiety all over again. He curses up a storm on the other end, his voice rising with every word and the urgency in his tone growing as he calls you by name.

You hear more footfalls, but whoever it is, they don't seem to notice you. You've not been gunned down yet, at least. You need to find somewhere safer.

Peering around the wreckage, you look for somewhere else you can hide. The tree line is close. You don't know how long you'll last in the snow no matter what, especially without your coat—but cold cover is safer than none. Staying under a leaking, gasoline-filled truck carcass isn’t a good long-term plan.

Soap’s voice rises over the line. "Dammit, say somethin'!"

Finally you do. "Johnny?"

"Jesus." Soap closes his eyes, hoping like hell he's not about to hear you get shot, or captured, or worse. He can already tell by the rough sound of your voice that he's not going to like what you say next. "I'm here," he says quickly, trying to keep the worry from his own voice. "Where are ya?"

"I’m an idiot. I'm sorry for everything I put you through. I shouldn’t have been so stubborn about..." You let out a harsh sigh. "You. Just wanted to tell you that."

It suddenly feels like there's a block of ice lodged in Soap’s chest. "That a goodbye, darlin'?" he says.

"I'm doing my goddamn best. Alright?"

"That’s a sorry fuckin’ excuse. You’re aways doing your best," Soap snaps. An ugly, hard thread of bitterness creeps into his tone. "Trouble is you always choose the worst way of goin’ about it. I’m not lettin' you go like this.”

"I know it's my fault," you retort. "Okay? I should've listened to you. Are you happy to hear me fucking say it?"

"Does it look like that's gonna fix things?" Soap’s voice rises with every word now. His temper is frayed at the edges. "No, I'm not bloody happy. I don't want apologies. I don't want some grand realization. I just want you to survive. You're damn right you fucked up. And you've got a lot of work to do to make it up to me, so you'd best stay alive. You hear me?"

You swallow, clutching the phone tighter in your hands.

"Answer me."

"I'll try."

"No. You'll do," Soap says in a voice that brooks no argument. His voice drops low again, but the anger is still there. "You will make it back to me. You'll do whatever it takes. You don't get to leave me alone after all the trouble you gave me. I'll not hear one more sorry excuse."

God. You want him so bad it hurts. You close your eyes, concentrating on the pain of the glass in your skin and your dislocated shoulder to sharpen your focus. "Fine."

"That's my girl." The words come out rough, heated, and tinged with something like pride. "You just stay put," he says. "We'll find you."

You tense as another set of voices raise in aggravation nearby. The longer you stay here, the greater the chance you'll be seen. "I have to go," you say lowly into the phone. "Need better cover."

"Stay on the line," he says quickly. "Do not hang up. Hen!"

You bring your ziptied wrists down hard on the edge of your boot—and again, and again, pain radiating up your arm—until it finally snaps.

With your hands free, you pull yourself out from under the wreckage and away, leaving Soap on the line to hear nothing but shouting and gunshots.

Soap listens through the phone, biting down hard on the curse that threatens to tear free. He can't lose you. He's going crazy imagining the worst right now. His mind is all too happy to cycle through a parade of gory images. No. No, you can't go, not like this.

He'd give anything to be a knife on your belt right now. A bullet in your gun. Anything but this—this utter fucking helplessness. He can’t do anything but sit on the other end of a line and listen. It's torture.

Even with Price at the wheel, racing all of them toward the bottom of the mountain.

"We'll make it, Soap," is all Price says.

Soap nods, but he barely hears it. All he can listen to is the sound of gunfire through the phone and the cold, visceral rage in the pit of his stomach. He'll claw his way to you with his bare hands if he has to. It doesn’t matter how much blood and sweat it costs him to get you back. You’d better keep your word and stay alive to make it up to him.

...

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / part 10 / [part 11] / part 12

more Soap / masterlist

[disneyprincemuke]

the other woman * mv1

everything falls into place in your mind when max fails to show up for you at the one event you desperately wanted him to be at

pairings: max verstappen x fem!reader

warnings: cheating, jake gyllenhaal type behaviour

notes: hi i know i promised this on xmas eve and then i failed to deliver mY BAD BABY GIRLS! i am trying my best but then again i did get a fever and all but its ok lfg and NO I WILL NOT BE WRITING A PART TWOOOOO

(f1 masterlist)

your eyes watch your front door, bottom lip caught between your teeth as you try to hold yourself back from crying. there's a sob bubbling from the deepest part of your gut as you glance at the clock one more time.

he's late.

but one can also say that he's simply not coming. did he lie when he told you that he would make sure he showed up for you this time? or did he just simply forget about you again?

your eyes have been staring at that door for the better part of the last hour or so since guests started arriving for the party you'd thrown.

a party you'd thrown, admittedly, just to get his attention. you were never one to make a big deal of your birthday anyway, but he made you think otherwise. because he promised you that he would be here no matter what happened. it's stupider that he was the one that encouraged you to throw a party today.

only for him not to show up?

this is the one time you needed him to so desperately show up for you. but here you are, looking like a fool waiting for somebody who wouldn't come; for somebody who didn't even make you a first choice.

because you know that when if push comes to shove, he would still pick her. max would always pick kelly and penelope over you, no matter how much he tells you that he loves you. no matter how many times you endured him telling you that he no longer wants to be with her.

you know better than to be his little secret. your parents had not raised you to be a potential homewrecker, but are you really being one if he's the one that keeps coming back to you?

you've tried staying away, and you've attempted to cut all sorts of contact with him, but he eventually crawls right back to you a couple of weeks later claiming that he will break up with kelly soon.

you've even bought a new dress for the occasion; in max's favourite colour and a cut that you knew he would say you look amazing in.

only for him to bail on you. you'd even taken the effort to sit for an hour to do your makeup and hair. for nothing, essentially.

fast forward a couple of hours of holding back tears and forcing smiles, you're hunched over the couch, picking up empty beer cans and tears streaming down your face. at the end of the day, you're left alone in your apartment with a heavy heart and the eerie silence the room can only offer you.

you watch the last car from your guests drive away. you sigh and throw yourself on the couch, finally letting the tears fall from your eyes. you had no idea it was so difficult to pretend like you're okay until today.

it's totally different when it's got something to do with the heart, it seems. you were totally banking on the fact that he would be here today, at least today. just today. because it's your birthday.

it's your day.

a knock on the door sits you right up, hands darting up to wipe the tears that smudged your makeup. "give me a second!"

"it's just me."

the anger suddenly hits you. so he is available to travel out to come and see you. just not a couple of hours prior when everybody else was here? just not at the time when you actually wanted him to be here?

you stomp your way over to the door and swing the door open and a string of apologies quickly spill from his mouth. you immediately notice the wrapped present in his hand and the bouquet of flowers.

"i'm sorry, i got held up at home," max apologises with a frown. "p had a fever and she wouldn't go to bed unless i tucked her in. i'm sorry, i know i'm late."

you sigh, rolling your eyes. "you're not just late," you scowl, "you missed the party entirely, max."

"oh," he slumps his shoulders, "i was wondering why it was so quiet when i was walking up."

you shake your head and walk further into your apartment. "max, just go home. you don't have a reason to be here."

"what do you mean? it's your birthday," he says gently, following you in. he closes the door behind him and follows you into your living room. "is there still cake? maybe you can blow the candles with me before the day ends? i even got you a present."

"no, i let people take home pieces of the cake," you say softly, returning to your agenda of cleaning your home from the traces of the party your friends left. "what am i going to do with cake that i don't even eat?"

"you bought chocolate cake on your birthday? you don't even like chocolate," he points out softly. "nevermind that, i got you a present!"

"i don't give a fuck about your stupid present, max!" you burst, standing up and turning to finally face him. "i didn't ask for a fucking present! i asked you for one thing and you couldn't even do that!"

he stares at you, dumbfounded with his lips parted in shock at your outburst. you're not typically one to have outbursts, which is the one thing he claims he finds very refreshing about you. you're calm and collected most of the time, and you assess the situation before picking fights. "p was sick. what did you want me to do?"

"you're telling me you're a sole parent to this little girl?" you ask. "kelly couldn't have tucked her in so you could show up to the party that you asked me to throw? on my birthday? max, you had one job and it was to show up for me tonight! i waited for you all night!"

he seems to have lost all ability to speak because he just pulls out a chair from your dining table and takes a seat. "i'm sorry. you're right, i should have been here."

"seriously, max! are you actually ever going to leave them or do you just lie straight through your teeth whenever you tell me that?" she scolds him, throwing her arms in the air. "i'm not stupid, max! this has gone on long enough!"

"i am, and i will!" he answers you, running his hands through his hair. "i just need more time. there's a child involved, i really hope you understand. i can't just leave."

"you say that every single time! it's been seven months!" you cry. "you've made me the other woman for seven long months! am i supposed to just sit here and take that? just because i love you?"

"i do love you! but it's complicated, okay? i can't just leave p like this!"

you clench your jaw. how many times have you heard that excuse in the past year? and how many more times will you be fooled by the sweetness in his voice and his glistening blue eyes? "max, i think you should go. lose my number, and forget that i ever existed. i can't do this anymore."

his head snaps up to you. he quickly walks over to you, throwing his arms around you from behind. "wait, don't say that. please, i promise. i'll leave in the next month. don't leave me. i really don't love her anymore."

"i'm so tired of the lies, max," you sigh, desperately tearing his arms away from your body. you take a step back and turn to him. "you will always choose them over me. it doesn't matter how much you love me, max. you're too attached to them to leave."

"listen to me, okay? i will leave them. and then we can be happy together like we talked about all those nights we spent together," max coos, putting his hands on your shoulder. he bends down slightly to look into your eyes. "please, just give me one last chance - more time. i just need time. i will let p down easily and i'll leave kelly. please."

"i don't know how many more times you think you can fool me with that lie, max!" you frown, shoving him back. "just leave! leave me alone! i refuse to let you make me look like an idiot! i'm better than this."

"i thought you said you understood my predicament. with p in the picture..."

"yeah, for seven long months. do you know how many days that is? how many hours i'd spend with you wondering when you'd finally take me off the backseat and make me your own officially?" you throw your head back and a dry laugh passes your lips. "max, just leave. don't call me again."

"you don't really mean that."

"i do this time," you say firmly, turning around to face him.

you circle around him and walk over to your front door, pulling it open and gesturing towards the hallway. "i'm done. take your flowers and your stupid present and leave."

he does what you say, hesitantly. he keeps his eyes on you, hoping that you will immediately change your mind. he travelled this far to get to you, hoping that you would somehow forgive him for missing your birthday party.

but you're right, now that he's had a couple of seconds to think about it. in the past seven months, he's told you that he'd up and leave kelly and penelope so he can finally be with you openly. it's much harder to keep you in the shadows when everyone's got eyes on him all the time.

perhaps it's the attachment to penelope that he can't get himself to pack his things and call it a day. he genuinely does love that kid. and his girlfriend has her good days - not all make him want to pull at his hair in frustration anymore.

but he also really does love you. if there hadn't been a loveable child in the picture, one that's grown very attached to him, he would have been able to walk away months ago. it could've been that easy.

"just hear me out," max says, stopping right by the door and giving you one last pleading look. "don't leave. not like this. we haven't even had a real fighting chance."

"that's because of you. not me," you answer dryly, looking up at him. "just go. i can't keep having this conversation with you."

"please."

"i gave you too many chances to make this right," you sigh, putting a gentle hand on his back to guide him out the door. you press your lips together as a lump forms in your throat. you're more shocked that you hadn't fully started bawling moments ago. "i should have done this a long time ago."

"i'm sorry."

"i'm sure you are. too little too late." then you close the door on him and whatever could have been with max.

[nadvs]

basketballplayer!rafe doing body shots off of cheerleader!reader and everybody is around them hyping them up and recording. after rafe carries her to a room in the house to fuck cause he’s hornyyyy

aaaaa YES i love their college days 🤭

based on this fic! 18+!

rafe is already buzzed when she arrives.

“your wife’s here!” his housemate shouts over the music. rafe grins when she walks into the crowded party with a couple of her friends.

it’s been just over a week since they became official and scrapped their ‘best friends’ title, and his teammates love that they can taunt him for being ‘married’ without him telling them shut up or it’s not like that.

she’s more uncovered than she is clothed in her shorts and tank-top. he’s seen her naked so many times and knowing what she looks like underneath those flimsy pieces of fabric makes his groin tighten already.

she drapes her arms over his firm shoulders to hug him in greeting and he pulls her by the waist and presses his lips against hers. boisterous jeers surround them.

“are they ever going to stop?” she mumbles into his ear as his friends holler, his cheek warm against hers.

“don’t think so.” she can hear the smile in his voice. she knows he has authority as captain and can get the guys to stop if he really wants them to. but maybe he likes the reminder that they’re really together now. “how are you, baby?”

“i had a shitty day,” she tells him.

“how come?” rafe pulls back, gazing at her through softer eyes.

“my classes dragged,” she tells him. “practice was annoying. and now i gotta deal with you.”

“shut up,” he mutters with a laugh. “i’m the best part of your day.”

“is that what you tell yourself?”

“do you need to get out of my house?”

“sure,” she says, pretending to step back. his fingers wrap around her wrist as he tugs her towards him. she laughs, pressed up against him again.

“we’re doing shots,” a voice behind her says, startling her. rafe laughs when she jumps in his arms.

“good,” she says. “i obviously need a drink.”

rafe stands behind her, hands on her hips, as she throws back a couple of vodka shots, looking at him with an adorable wince as the liquor burns down her throat.

“cameron!” they hear. rafe’s housemate liam captures their attention, along with a few other partygoers. “you ever hear that saying about how your girlfriend is the best shot glass?”

laughs scatter across the crowd.

“are we about to get peer pressured into doing a body shot?” she asks with a smile and shake of her head, looking up at her boyfriend.

“i mean, if we have to…” he says. his face is flushed pink and his lids are low. he’s maybe one shot away from being plastered. and she’s starting to feel the buzz from her shots, too. maybe that’s why lying on the dining room table in front of everyone doesn’t sound so crazy.

she settles on the hard surface on her back, her palms over her eyes as she laughs, unable to believe that they’re really doing this.

she lays her arms at her sides and can see a few phones pointed at her as rafe stands by the edge of the table, clumsily getting a few things ready.

“i’m doing tequila,” rafe slurs over the music. she laughs.

“is that a good idea?” she half-shouts.

he holds out a lime wedge over her and she rolls her eyes before opening her mouth just wide enough to let him prop it between her teeth.

rafe’s fingers are hot as he pulls up the hem of her top, exposing her stomach and the bottom of her bra. he loves that the girl everyone is looking at right now is his.

he leans over her, his dimples deep in his cheeks as he smirks, and bends down to run his tongue up the side of her neck.

everyone watching hoots loudly and she feels her cheeks burn. they’ve been affectionate in front of people before, but never sexual like this.

he leaves a warm line of his spit on her, allowing the salt he shakes over her skin to stick.

rafe lifts the tequila bottle, hand a bit shaky as he concentrates on pouring it in her belly button. it’s hilarious, considering how precise and steady he is on the court, to see him so clumsy.

“wait, wait,” he says, a lazy smile on his face, “i need to focus.”

“then focus,” she laughs.

the tequila is cool as it forms a puddle on her navel. she shakes as she laughs, making some of it spill over on her side.

“stay still,” rafe drawls, still smiling, his hands firm on her hips.

“hurry up,” she says, laughing. she’s glad that even their relationship has changed, it hasn’t much, still bickering even when they’re drunk.

he quickly shifts to lick the salt on her neck, then he moves to press his open mouth against her stomach, sucking the liquor off of her body.

rafe just barely grimaces as he swallows the sharp tequila. he shifts back up to bite the lime in her mouth, but impatiently spits it out on the table and takes the opportunity to kiss her.

“that’s not part of it!” she hears one of his friends shout. rafe smiles against her lips, dipping his tongue into her mouth, and she laughs, cradling his jaw with both her hands, tasting the bitter alcohol.

“we need to go upstairs,” rafe mumbles when he pulls away, inches away from her. she knows what he sounds like when he’s turned on. she sees his hand over his groin, hiding that he’s hard.

“should i flash everyone to distract them?” she jokes.

“don’t fuck around,” he laughs. “come on.”

he yanks her off the table by her hips. if he goes another minute without being inside her, he might just go insane.

“alright, bye, i guess?” liam calls loudly as they rush up the stairs together.

rafe’s pushes her onto his bed, kissing her fast and rough. they strip off each other’s clothes, breathing heavily, hot skin quickly making contact.

“get on your knees,” he orders. “ass up.”

she obeys, fingers bunching in his sheets as she feels his big hands run down her bare back. his hand comes down hard on her ass, making her gasp in pleasure.

when she feels the head of his cock up against her, she arches her back, hungry for him.

he takes in the sight, her ass in the air for him, her middle gleaming with wetness. he rubs the tip against her entrance just to taunt her before finally pushing forward.

“fuck,” he whispers as he starts to sink into her. she arches her back even more so he can quickly plunge deeper into her.

rafe doesn’t take it slow. he pulls back and then forward immediately, finding his pace and slamming into her with his hands on her hips.

she exhales with every thrust, moaning over the sound of the bass-heavy music downstairs.

“i bet every guy down there wishes they could fuck you,” he says hoarsely. “but who’s fucking you, huh? tell me.”

“you are,” she groans.

“lying on that table like that,” rafe mutters. “i wanted to fuck you right there.”

she moans into the mattress as he plunges into her even harder and faster. when his hand drags down her stomach and over her clit, rubbing in tight circles, she starts to see stars.

he feels her clenching around him, her walls fluttering and her body shaking. she comes with a loud moan, loving that she doesn’t have to worry about anyone hearing like she usually does when they fuck in his room.

he grips the back of her neck to keep her steady so he can fuck her as hard as he wants to, his groans low with every rough thrust.

her thighs start to ache as he pounds in her and when his hips start to stutter against her, she knows he’s close. he squeezes the back of her neck as he reaches his peak, coming inside her in hard jerks.

rafe needs a moment before he can get up to get her a towel. she’s lying on her back when he comes into the room again, wiping the mess off of her, albeit clumsily from how drunk he is.

they laugh at nothing together, and he settles beside her, loving that her instinct is to wrap her arms around him again. his cheek is on her heaving chest as she cuddles him.

it’s almost unbelievable to her how they can go from fucking so roughly to hugging so fast. she starts to stroke his hair, still catching her breath. she doesn’t know if she even has the strength to go back downstairs.

she lets her eyelids flutter shut, still riding her high, hugging her boyfriend with no intention of letting go any time soon.

[spidybaby]

Valentine's Day through the years

A little late valentine's day gift from me to you 😋❤️

February 2020

"Can you open the door? Is Aurora." You sister asks, brush in one hand and hairspray on the other.

She was throwing a valentine's day party and you were helping her with opening the door since she said "only friends" are allowed.

"Isn't it a little early for her to be here?" You ask, confused. Getting up from your bed. "Like two hours early."

"just open the door." she yells from her bathroom.

You walked downstairs, mad that you weren't allowed to be at the party but you were opening everybody's knock.

"Hola guapa." Aurora says, hugging you. "Pablo had the cupcakes, help him please."

Behind her it was Pablo, he was carrying two cupcake plates, they look amazing you had to admit.

You grab one of the plates, walking to the garden and leaving it on the very pink and red table.

"Y/n, Pablo's staying, maybe you guys can watch a movie or something." Aurora says, she was putting some decorations on the garden. "and don't worry I'll take care of the door."

You turn to Pablo, he has this mad face. You and him are civil but he never cross words with you.

"we can see something in my room." You offer, he nods. You both walk to your room. He sits on the chair you have there. "You can sit on the bed."

He does that, sitting next to you. You open netflix and pass him the remote, you let him pick whatever he likes.

"I like comedies and I like action movies. But you can pick any movie you want." You smile at him.

You can't deny your little crush on him. Aurora and your sister are like glue, always together, meaning whenever they have the chance they force you to go out with them.

The thing here is, Pablo was shy, he was very introverted and he didn't even answer you with more than a yes or no.

"Do you want some pop corn and soda?" You get up from bed and walk to your door. "I know you're a footballer but a cheat day won't hurt"

The little smile he gives you is making your stomach go crazy. He nods excited. "do you have that red soda?"

"si, do you want a cupcake? I can steal two."

"por favor." he smiles big, you love the way he was smiling.

You hurry downstairs, grabbing a package of popcorn and throwing them in the microwave.

"Aurora, I think the bathroom is not working, is that going to be a problem?"

"What? No, that can't be I just went." she leaves what she's doing. "let me check, maybe it's not."

When she left the table you grab two of the pink cupcakes. Hurrying to the kitchen to hide them.

"False alarm, is working." she says happy. "sorry I left you with my brother, mom asked me to bring him and well you guys are the same age. Just ask him about football or something."

"Yeah, no problem."

When the popcorn is ready you grab everything in a little tray and carefully take it to your room.

"I have that red soda and the cupcake."

His eyes light up, it was like seeing a child excited for candy even when mom said no.

"I picked a comedy, since you say you like them."

Your smile grow, you leave the tray on your bed, taking a sit next to him you both watch the comedy.

After three movies, two comedies and one action. The night was coming to an end, sadly, you think to yourself.

The music from the party recently gone as your sister's friends say goodbye to her.

You turn the TV off, moving the empty popcorn bowl. The two cupcakes seating on top of the tray.

You remembered what Aurora told you. "cómo van los partidos?" (how are the matches?)

He scuff, he knows you don't know anything about football. "good, I scored a goal in my last one." he smiles proud.

You nod, not sure what else to ask. "that's good, so you're a forward?"

"No, I'm a midfielder."

"Oh, okay." You say low. "and do you like being a midfielder?"

He laughs, you smile a little at that, at least one of you is having fun with the talk. "I do, I love playing. When I play I feel so good."

"You play really good, the other day Aurora showed us a video."

He blush at the confession. He loves when people ask about football but with you he feels more shy than usual.

"I have a game in a few days, maybe you can come." he asks, very low voice. Grabbing the cupcake and biting it to make the things less awkward.

"Pablo." You laugh, the frosting from the cupcake on his nose. "come here."

You grab a napkin, cleaning carefully his nose. His eyes are on you the whole time, he love the way your eyes shine, maybe too much to ever say it.

"Done." You smile, getting up from bed and throwing the napkin on the little trashcan in your room.

Aurora knocks on the door, announcing that their mom was waiting for them and to pick his things.

"Thank you for the movie and for the food, I really enjoy it."

Your smile grow, he loved that. "Thank you for not leaving me alone, it would have been so much worse without you here."

Aurora screaming at Pablo to go interrupt your chat. He waves goodbye and walk out of your room.

"Pablo." You call, hand on the door and only half body out of the door. "Hope you score a goal for this match, so I can say I have a good memory of my first match."

The last thing you see is his smile, closing the door and trying to remain calm. You feel like in one of those romantic movies.

February 2021

"That was amazing. You did it amazing, Pablo. " You jump in his arms, excited about the victory.

"Did you see that assist?" He asks happily, arms hugging you tightly. "Thank you for coming."

Pablo and you became closer after the last 14th of February. You two became what your sisters are.

Aurora and your sister keep telling you that Pablo likes you as more than a friend. You prefer to let him tell you that and don't make yourself the fool.

"Of course I was coming. My boy is in the first team. I can't lose this."

My boy

Pablo loves it when you call him that. You're very special. The way you take care of him, motivate him to be better. In less than a year, you became his number one supporter.

"I think I'm allowed to eat something I shouldn't just tonight. Want to do that with me?" He grabs your hand and walks with you back to Pedri.

"Hola, long time no see," Pedri jokes with you. He knows about Pablo's crush on you and takes every opportunity to make it notice. "Did you enjoy the game?"

"I did, I'm happy you guys got assists today." You high-five Pedri. Pablo can't help the big smile he has.

To all the people around you it was obvious the connection you two have. They just need to look at Pablo's eyed when he's talking about you or talking to you.

"The eyes never lie." That's what his mother says.

Pedri drop the two of you to a restaurant. Asking Pablo to be careful and to enjoy the night.

You walk in front of him, that's when he notices that you're wearing the shirt he gave you. The one he used to play for the first time with the first team.

That number 30 and his name sitting on your back are doing things to him.

"Hello, how many in your party?" The host asks you.

"Two, please."

"You're so lucky. We have a table ready for you."

She guides you to the table. You love the decorations of the place, it was all so cute yet not exorbitant and tacky.

"We have a special Valentine's Day menu for all our couples. I'll leave it here and I'll leave two normal menus in case you want something else."

You can't help but blush at her words. You two aren't a couple, not because you don't want to, but you like the way that sounds.

"So, since you're my valentine's today," Pablo jokes, the smile he has is a teasing one. "Two valentine's day meals?"

"You didn't ask me to be your valentine" you pout, making him laugh.

"Y/n, pretty girl, will you be my valentine?"

He grabs a rose from the little bouquet that's making decoration in the wall next to him. He offers the rose to you with a big smile.

"I'll have to think about it, Mister Gavi." You take the rose, smelling it.

"What about now?" He steals another two roses, giving them to your now small bouquet. "Will you be now?"

"Yes." You grab his hand and intertwine your fingers with him. "That means you're buying me dessert."

He laughs, not letting your hand go. He nods at you, noticing how you're looking at your hands. He brings your hand closer to his mouth, giving it a kiss.

"I'll get you anything you want."

The little interaction was interrupted by the waitress. You both order the valentine's day meal.

Dinner was good. You both laughed with stories from the dressing room. He was spilling all the things that happened today.

"There's a park like a block away. Would you like to walk for a little while before I drop you home?"

"That would be nice. Maybe my pants will fit me again." You both laugh at that.

Once you're out of the restaurant and near the park, your hands find his again. You smile at the thought of him wanting more than just friendship.

After all, Aurora and your sister were sure of it. But what if it wasn't like that? What if he's just a very affectionate friend?

Friends held hands? Yes, they do.

Friends support each other? Yes.

Friends take each other out to eat on valentine's day? ... maybe?

The park has these rose tunnels. They were beautiful and very romantic. The way the little light was enough and gave this romantic vibe to the people walking in.

"What's on your mind? Pretty girl." He stops, noticing how you're lost in your thoughts.

Do you want to ruin the night with the question that's burning your brain? Do you want to ruin the friendship by letting your mind run crazy?

You look at him, worried frown on his face. "Tell me, maybe I can help you?" The way his hands are now on your waist, bringing you closer to him.

You're not sure if you should tell him. You're not ready for his answer. You don't want to end the day crying in your room.

"I'm just thinking." You whisper.

"About?"

"Us." You confess.

His grip is stronger, not hurting you, but enough for you to notice the sudden change.

"What about us?" He whispers. He's scared, scared of you telling him that you only like him as a friend. Scared of losing you.

"Pablo, I like you." You say. Lips quivering.

He's internally screaming, making the best work of his life by keeping that famous frown.

You wait for him to say something, eyes glued to each other. As the seconds pass, you feel your heart breaking. He doesn't like you that way.

But how wrong you're, his mind is working a thousand miles per hour. Not sure how to tell you that he likes you too without sounding too crazy.

Your hands move from his shoulders to his hands, moving them away from you. You want to go home and cry yourself to sleep.

That action makes him go back to reality. He notices your tearful eyes. "Wait, no."

"No, it's okay. I can take a cab home. Don't worry."

You decided to leave, not wanting for him to see you cry. But the grip on your arm stops you. "Wait, Y/n."

"No, Pablo. It's okay, I just want to go home." You remove his hand from your arm, walking away from him.

"Can you let me say what I have to say?" He grabs your arm again. He needs to say it.

"You don't have to say anything, I know."

"No, you don't, shit you don't." His hands go back to your waist. "You don't know because I've been a stupid kid who doesn't know any better, I like you too, maybe too much for me to feel comfortable saying it."

You want to say something, but he keeps rambling.

"And you have no idea, joder. The way you look at me with those beautiful shiny eyes and the way you smile or laugh even at my bad jokes." He laughs, making you laugh. "The way my name looks on your back is making me think things I shouldn't but things I only think about you. And the way you know my sister and she loves you and my mom. Gosh, my mom. "

"What about your mom?" You ask confused.

"She told me to confess because a girl like you won't come twice in a lifetime." He hugs you, bringing you closer to him. You lock your arms behind his neck. "I like you more than you think. I was just too scare to say it before."

"I'm head over heels with everything you just said, but can you please shut up and kiss me?" You smile, making him chuckle.

His hand goes to the back of your neck, bringing you closer. The kiss is everything you ever dreamed of. All those nights dreaming about it now coming true.

He smiles into the kiss. Happy that the girl he always had a crush on, the sister of his sister's best friend, the one Aurora always tried to bring closer because they were the same age.

"Se mi novia." (Be my girlfriend) He let's out, not thinking much about it. "I can't let another day pass without making you my girlfriend." You nod, kissing him again.

"Te prometo que voy a hacer algo mejor que esto, pero hoy quiero volver a casa y que todos sepan que eres mía." (I promise that I'm doing something better than this, but tonight I just want to go back home and let all my family know you're mine.)

You press your forehead to his, enjoying the moment. He was yours, and you were his. That's all you need to know.

February 2022

"Pablo, stop it." You say, morning voice making Pablo chuckle. He continue with the kisses on your neck and back. "Amor, five minutes more."

"You asked me for five minutes like twenty minutes ago."

You open your eyes, room kinda dark thanks to the curtains. The big mirror he has reflecting you with his arms around you.

"Feliz aniversario, preciosa mía." (happy anniversary) he kiss your earlobe. "if you weren't such a sleepy head I would have given you a good morning gift but now I'm thinking of breakfasts." he tease you. Making you blush at the thought of your last night actions.

You turn to face him, smirk on his face. "Feliz aniversario, ojitos lindos." You kiss his lips, your hands caressing his chest. "I'm hungry too."

He laughs, kissing you again. He push you lightly, getting on top of you while he deepens the kiss.

He loves the way you whimper every time he touch you. Every sound, every little jump your body gives. You are his.

"Pablo, I have class in an hour." You remind him. His head buried between you neck. "and I am hungry, amor."

You both get up from bed, quickly running to the bathroom to do your routine and to force Pablo to do the one you taught him to keep his skin clean.

"Oye, I forgot my bag in the truck of my car, can you please help me and bring it? I'll make us some pancakes."

"Yes sir." You laugh, walking to the garage to open the truck. "Oh my god." You find five designer bags. All of them with red bows. "Pablo!"

He smiles when he heards you calling his name. He knows you've been stressing about classes, having barely any sleep.

He also knows you don't like when he spoils you, you're shy about it, telling him that you're more than spoiled with him letting you live with him and not allowing you to pay any bill or anything.

"Amor, what is all this?" You walk inside with the five bags. He smirk, serving the first pancake on the plate.

"A little something for my reina."

"Pablo, I can't. Amor this is too much." You check the first bag. It's a beautiful Hermes blanket you save on Pinterest. "Amor, this cost more than my tuition."

"Not at all." he laughs, the way you look at the blanket with such eyes. The shiny eyes he loves. "Keep looking."

"Dios mio, how?"

He smirks, he had to get your friends help to pick some things like colors or sizes. Like the bag you have in your hands, he knew you wanted it, but you never decided in a color of your preference.

Your eyes land on the red and gold bag. Cartier. You told him once a few months back that you wanted to match with him on something.

You gifted him a bracelet, he wears it everywhere he goes, is his favorite piece of jewelry.

But you wanted something else to match him. You remember that you wanted a P inicial.

His hands on your waist make you go back to reality, it was two necklaces, one with your initial and one with his and a little six.

"We can match now." he whispers in your ear, kissing your neck. "want me to put it in you?"

You nod, happy that he remembered something so small. You feel the tears in your eyes and he lock the necklace in place.

"Pablo." You turn to him, hugging his torso and crying in his chest. "te amo, you're so special."

He caress your back, kissing your head. "You're my baby, my reina, and I'm always going to give you everything you want."

"But I can't give you the same. And that make me feel bad for you, you're so special and I want to spoil you too."

"shhhh. You're special too, you spoil me a lot. You take care of me, you cook for me, you help me when I'm sick, when I'm tired, you're my biggest fan."

You nod, knowing that even when what you give him is not much. For him it was more than enough.

"Now give me a kiss and let's eat, you have to go to class." he dry your tears and kiss your cheeks and then your lips.

"I don't want to go." You whine. Hugging him again.

"Preciosa, see it this way, our kids will need help with the homework, and the one who will help them is you." he jokes. "that's your motivations".

You laugh, he always knew the right thing to say to make you feel better.

February 2023

"Can you serve me some more juice?" he smiles, kissing your shoulder. "pretty please."

"Pablo, venga hombre que tu te puedes levantar. Deja a la niña comer." (c'mon son. You can get up, let her eat in peace) his dad say. Smacking him in the back of the head.

You laugh at that, but you grab his cup and get up to serve him more juice. You know how crazy he gets for orange juice.

"Listo, now eat." You pass him the juice after taking a sip of it.

"Hey. That's mine." he frowns. Joking with you. "Thank you, preciosa."

You were eating with his parents, they were visiting from Sevilla and wanted to spend time with you two.

Aurora and her boyfriend are with you two. You love spending time with them. Going on double dates with them.

"You want to know what's funny?" Aurora giggles. "your sister and I always talked about going on double dates and now that's she's in Paris. You're the one I'm going on double dates with."

You giggle with her. Your sister moved to Paris to study design. She and Aurora always video chat and text but now that you're with Pablo, Aurora and you were closer. Thing that makes your sister extra happy. Knowing that you're taking care of each other.

"We're going on a hiking adventure today, if you guys want to join we will leave after lunch."

You thank him, explaining that Gavi and you were going on a little museum visit.

Gavi's plan was to take you to a museum, you love art. So to him it was a good idea to have a more calm anniversary and to do something you love and enjoy.

"Y/n, cariño. Can you help me later with the cooking, you're the only one that can get the sauce to its point." Belén asks you, you nod excited. "Thank you, mija."

You love cooking with Belen, she always gave you advice and you improved your cooking with her recepies.

After lunch you all chat for a little, you love his family and the love you as their own. If you ask Belen or Pablo's father, they would tell you that they can see you two going for the long ride.

Belén often asks Pablo about the future. If he ever sees you two in his plans. Pablo would say yes without hesitation. You're the most important person in his life. He knows that.

If someone asks you, you would say the same, you can picture yourself with a family. You can picture yourself walking down the aisle to him.

But you two are young. Too young to think about marriage and a family. You want to live a lot of things with him. Not rush into adulthood.

"Let's go, preciosa." he extends his hand out to you, you take it, thumb caressing his skin.

The drive was calm, he was singing this new song he has on replay. You love when he drives, it suits him so much the driver look.

He like the idea of going to a museum date, he's interested in things people don't know about, this being one of them.

"Look, this one is call El Beso" he says. Teasing tone as he elbow your arm.

"Wow, you know how to read names, babe. Good job." You joke. Making him pout.

Your hands intertwine as you walk around. There was this specific painting that Pablo liked. He was reading about it.

"I want a copy of this at home."

"Yes, it's very pretty."

"Pretty like you." he kiss your cheek. Hugging you while he finish reading about the painting.

You love how easy it is to enjoy things with him, how easy is to love him, to talk with him.

"Te amo, Pablito." You kiss his cheek. Hugging him tight.

"I know. I love you so much too." he kiss your lips. Smiling into the kiss.

February 2024

"Careful big boy." You say, helping him walk upstairs of your home. "Let's slow down, you're running."

He was tired. Tired of always needing help, tired of always looking like a kid who needs to be taken care of, tired of not being able to be the old him.

"Joder, I can't do this anymore." he fall in the bed. He feel like crying. "just leave without me."

You sit next to him. Caressing his hair and letting him cry, you help him with his shoes, taking off his Jordan's.

You grab the glass of water you always have next to you in bed. Bringing it to him, "Amor, drink this."

He does as you told him. Drinking the whole glass, you sit behind him, careful with his legs.

"Come here, amor." You push him down to you. His back stick to your chest. Your hands on his hair, nails caressing his scalp. "I'm not going anywhere, not without you." He sobs again, he's not in his best days and you know it. "shhh, I'm here. You're okay."

You treat him like a baby, you're aware of that, but you don't mind it. He was your baby, your Pablito, he was yours and you love taking care of him.

"Today my friend Jessica made cookies." You began telling him about your day to distract him. "and they're so good, I saved you one."

His sobs are more calm now. His breathing still very accelerated and that worries you.

"Also, today on this class, remember the one you convince me to take?" You kiss his hair. Hands caressing his arms up and down. He nods at your question. "Well they asked us today to describe something about our partner or someone we love, like when we knew we loved them."

He's calming down, paying attention to your words. You know how to calm him down, how to take his mind out of his worried state.

"And I talked about that nigh in the park. When you asked me to be your girlfriend." You giggle, remembering how happy you were that night. "I can't forget the words you told me. How your mom told you to confess your feeling for me, because a girl like me happens once in a lifetime."

"That's true." he whispers.

"I knew I loved you because you were so honest with me, you were so straight with your words. How you told me you will give me anything I want. And you do."

"Even when you told me that I spoil you too much." he chuckle.

"And I want you to know how in love I am with you, Pablo. You're my love." You kiss his earlobe, then his head. "do you know that?"

"I know, and I love you so much too. I'm in love with you too."

"So don't ever think just because of your ACL or any other injury I'll leave you behind. Pablo I'm with you for the long ride." You hug him, his hands find yours and intertwine them. "Now, what if we both stay home and I prepare some nice dinner or better, we can order McDonald's."

You see his reflection, he's smiling like crazy, even with red eyes and tearful cheeks he looks like an angel.

"Te amo. You're the love of my life."

"And you're the love of my life." You kiss his head again. "and I know that in every life time we will be together."

"Even as worms?" he tease you.

"Even as worms, mi amor."

You enjoy a night at home with him, telling stories and watching movies that you both later comment.

That's what you enjoy the most, how every moment is a special moment, even the smallest ones.

"Oye, kiddo." You call.

He lift his eyes from his ice-cream. Attention all on you.

"Te amo." You get closer to kiss him. "and I always will."

[chaotic-toasters]

Up the Stairs?

This actually happened to me one time LMAO

England Lionesses x Teen!Reader

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

"I'm not climbing those creepy old stairs!" Ella protested. "Y/N and Hannah should go. They're the youngest and the most fit, so if there's a serial killer hiding in the stairwell, they can outrun them. I'm taking the lift, I don't care."

You rolled your eyes. "C'mon, Hannah. Let's go."

"Tooney's such a baby," the Keeper laughed, matching your stride as you approached the hotel's staircase. "I swear, she believes the dumbest things."

You snickered. "Right?"

Hannah started climbing the steps, but you began bounding up them three at a time instead of your usual two. The girls always said you were childish, and this was one of the reasons why.

Because you weren't used to the extra height, you tripped, moving your hand out in front of you to break your fall. However, the sudden impact to your hand sent a sharp pain shooting down from your wrist to your forearm.

"Oh my days," Hannah grimaced, forcing you to sit as she gingerly picked up your hand. "How much does it hurt?"

You squinted at her. "On a scale of what?"

"One to 'take me to A&E, I'm dying'."

"Meh."

She scoffed. "Yeah, right. That crack echoed 'round the stairwell."

"That's just because the acoustics in here are really good," you dismissed her concern. "Seriously, Hannah. I'm fine."

"I'm still telling everybody," she warned. "We need to keep an eye on it. You might not have any symptoms now, but that can change in a few days."

You groaned. "Fiiine."

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

"Are you hurt?! What happened?" Rachel yelled in your ear, startling you. "How did you break your hand?! Are you alright?"

You scooted away from her and closer to Alessia. "I'm fine, Rach. And I didn't break it, it's just a scratch."

"Scratch? More like a loud arse crack," Hannah shook her head. "I think we should take you to the medics. Even if you aren't feeling too much pain and it's not broken, you might have sprained it or something."

You pouted, turning to your more empathetic teammates pleadingly. "Lessi, Niamhy, tell them I don't need to! I'm literally fine."

"Sorry, kiddo," Alessia smiled apologetically. "I'm with Rach and Hannah on this one. If it goes untreated, it'll heal wrong and you'll have chronic pain."

Niamh nodded her agreement, a sheepish look on her face.

You turned to your last hope. "Hempo?"

The forward picked up your hand, turning it over and observing it. "Nah, you're fine."

"She doesn't even have full range of motion!" Hannah exclaimed. "Her wrist can't move in a circle smoothly."

"I'll go to the medics if it gets worse," you grumbled. "Now let me be."

An awkward grin spread across Rachel's face, causing you to frown. "What?"

She looked down, unable to remain neutral. "I- uh... I texted Leah."

As if on cue, the door flew open, revealing a very worried Captain England. "Y/N! What the hell did you do?"

You gasped, glaring at your traitorous teammate. "You snitch!"

"Get up, we're going to the medics," Leah pulled you up by your non-injured hand. "Come on, let's go."

You tried to remain still. "Leah-"

"We're going," Leah grunted, throwing you over her shoulder despite your protests. "You're not getting out of this."

You stared glumly at the floor, ignoring the giggles of your teammates.

"I need a medic for this one," Leah declared as she entered the room, setting you down on a chair. "She fell down the stairs."

Sarina's head whipped towards you. "What?!"

You looked at Leah indignantly. "No, I fell up the stairs. Get it right."

Leah threw up her hands in exasperation. "How do you fall up the stairs?"

"I was going up and I tripped," you answered, frowning when one of England's medics held up your arm and hand. "I fell onto the step above me."

Sarina sighed, rubbing her temples. "Did she fracture it or anything?"

The medic shook his head. "Likely a mild sprain, especially if she can still somewhat move it. We'll give her a wrist brace. I'm sure you know how that works, Y/N."

You gave Leah the stink-eye. "This is all your fault."

"No, this is all your fault," she corrected, patting you on the shoulder. "You're the one who likes to go up multiple steps at a time."

"Whatever," you stuck out your tongue, taking the brace from the medic. "We all know that this is really all Tooney's fault."

Leah paused. "Yeah, that's true."