#i have just a few more to go but i know how it ends anyways so its just a formality now but like. i have just one teeny tiny question

[syoddeye]

john price x f!reader thing. unedited. ~600 words.

john price finds a dent in the driver’s door and a note tucked under a wiper.

sorry i can’t afford to pay, please forgive me x

and he’s angry, of course. who wouldn’t be? piece of shit. then he registers the looping handwriting and the little heart in the corner. interesting. he pulls the cctv. lo and behold, there she is. the culprit. some stumbling drunk buffoon.

~~

you probably shouldn’t have nabbed an e-scooter when you were three sheets to the wind, but you did, and fuck, you’re paying for it. you genuinely feel bad about the dent you left in the parked car last night, but you think a broken wrist and three stitches in your lip is more than enough punishment, thanks. you groan, remembering how you tossed the scooter into a bush and hiked a few streets away before calling 999. having to clock in for an opening shift added insult to injury.

~~

he imagines it’s rough going, working an espresso machine with a busted wrist. he supposes the manager didn’t want her as the cashier given the lip. pity, the swelling and stitches aside, she’s quite cute. but serves her right.

he wonders how she’ll react when he picks up his coffee and procures the printed still of her face, clear as day, fleeing from the scene of the crime.

he should feel bad, considering her injuries and what a barista job pays, but. it’s the principle of the thing.

“rough night?” he asks, hovering at the end of the bar.

“huh? oh, yeah. could say that,” she smiles tiredly. it’s a little strained, but still warm. “pity partied too hard.”

john’s smirk flattens. “pity party?”

“yeah,” she shrugs. “series of unfortunate events.”

like running into my car?

“what, bad date?” he jokes carefully, hiding behind a friendly grin.

“ha, guess so. it was supposed to be an anniversary dinner.” she explains dryly, looking all the more defeated as she tamps the grounds.

“supposed to be?”

she glances up, locking in the portafilter with a crank of her good arm. she finally looks a little suspicious of him. smart. “yeah.”

“i don’t mean to pry. you just seem like you could use a vent.” solid recovery.

it works. she considers a moment, shrugs again, and nods as she pulls the shot. “guess so,” she licks her lip and looks back, evidently deeming him harmless. not smart.

“found out he was cheating, called him on it, and he stormed out. after we ordered.”

that’s. that’s not what he expected. but it stirs something oddly protective. john’s a bit old-fashioned, he’s the first to admit it, so to hear about a man carrying himself so poorly? a man running around on a pretty thing like her?

it doesn’t sit well with him. car be damned.

“so how’d you…” he prompts, nodding at the cast.

“oh, yeah, we ordered some fancy wine. i drank most of the bottle alone, sobbing,” she cracks a self-deprecating smile and it dislodges something in his chest. “but the server didn’t charge me for dessert. i, uh, fell on my way home.”

crashed. you crashed into my car.

“sounds terrible.”

“it was. the whole night was. anyway.” she pauses to slide a pen from her apron to write on the cup. “americano to go?” she asks, pushing the drink over the counter, eyes floating to the next order.

john spots the same little heart, the looping letters. he looks back at her, plugging along despite the clear heartache and injuries. he sighs, crumpling the print out in his pocket.

“think i’ll have it to stay, actually,” he mumbles, knowing she doesn’t hear him as she makes the next drink.

he camps out at a table where he can watch her. there’s a dent in his car, but he’s decided there’s a barista-sized hole in his life.

[mrsmarinara]

So excited for the summer series! The prompts you chose were perfect! It was impossible to just pick one! May I please request 5 with Jack?

Hazy Clarity || Jack Hughes x reader

Prompt: 5. “You’re the best thing to ever happen to me.”

WC: 2.1k

A/N: I really am trying to get through these requests. Promise. Anyways I hope you like this.

Warnings: drug use (for medical reasons)

Summary: You thought you knew what you were getting into when you volunteered to take care of Jack after his surgery.

When you volunteered to be with and take care of Jack after his surgery you thought you knew what you were getting yourself into. Dating Jack for a year and knowing him for a year beforehand meant that you had seen him injured before and that usually, you would skip going to your apartment in favor of spending your time in his to make sure he was okay. Perhaps being there after Jack had his surgery was more so to calm your anxious mind but even though he wasn’t completely awake and coherent, he still seemed to appreciate the company.

Antsy. That was the best way to describe Jack. Since you met him it seemed like he always had to be doing something, even if it was just sitting down, if he wasn’t talking he would bounce his leg or constantly tap his fingers. It was like watching a child try and contain a sugar rush. So it was a little off-putting to watch as Jack sat on your couch, still as could be. He had several pillows cushioning his arm as he dozed quietly.

Quietly, so you wouldn’t wake him up, you grabbed the thickest throw blanket you had and covered Jack with it. He barely stirred as you tucked the blanket loosely around him. You stifled a giggle as you watched him twitch his nose at your actions before going still again.

When it was clear that he wasn’t waking up anytime soon you checked your phone only to see several dozen messages from his teammates, friends, and family. They ranged from asking how Jack was feeling and if he was doing better to asking how you were managing. You replied to all of them, letting everyone know that Jack is doing fine and recovering well. When you got to Jack’s family you gave a little more detail, telling Ellen that there was no need to worry and that he’s mostly been asleep because of the pain medication. Luke had asked if he should come to visit after the season ends to help with everything but you reassured him that he would see Jack soon and that you had everything under control. You wished him luck on the few remaining games the Devils still had to play and made sure to let him know that you and Jack would be watching them.

Once you managed to respond to every text you plugged your phone into the charger in the living room and made your way into the kitchen to make something for dinner.

When he was awake, Jack proved to be rather ravenous. It didn’t surprise you at all, even when he was healthy and uninjured he could still eat you out of house and home. You didn’t want to test the limits of his medication and end up having him throw up the food you made later. So you finally landed on making the salmon you had just recently bought and tomato cucumber avocado salad.

Your apartment wasn’t all that big. If you poked your head out of the kitchen you could see directly into the living room. So halfway through cooking you heard it when Jack woke up. You didn’t immediately rush to him, choosing rather to stay in the kitchen and finish the meal you were making.

You were filled with anxiety since the moment he got injured. I’m fact, you felt rather positive that if you went back to the hospital waiting room, where you sat as he had surgery, you would see a hole in the floor that you caused from the nonstop pacing you did as you waited to hear from the surgeon. Even when Jack was finally allowed to come home you couldn’t stop your mind from racing. Was your apartment clean enough? Did you have enough space for him to get better? What if he tried to do something that only made his injury worse?

You weren’t a nurse or a doctor. You had no background in medicine so the task of taking care of your healing boyfriend was daunting, to say the least. What you did have, though, was two years of knowing Jack. You could read his mood and body language better than anybody else. You knew when he was hurt, stressed, or upset and you knew exactly what to do to help. At least most of the time.

So when you heard some light shuffling from the living room and a quiet cough you knew he was awake. When you heard the television being turned on and the soft noise from it you were only proven right.

It doesn’t take you long to finish cooking and once you’re done you make two plates and head back out to the living room. You smile at the sight that greets you. Jack added another pillow to prop up his arm and found another throw blanket the wrap around himself. He blinks a bit sluggishly from underneath the blankets but the soft smile that adorns his face when he sees you makes it feel like butterflies are fluttering around in your stomach.

You smile back at him and set the plate of food on the coffee table. When you sit down you immediately feel Jack's cheeks and forehead for any warmth. The doctors told you to keep an eye out for any signs of a fever in the first few days after his surgery. His cheeks were warm but nothing that should have you worrying. It was only the warmth of sleep that still clung to him and made his cheeks rosy red.

Before you could pull your hand away Jack nuzzled into your touch. His eyes slipped close again and a sigh left his mouth. You ignored the way your heart beat faster and pulled your hand back gently.

“Hey, pretty boy, how’re feeling?” You asked softly.

Jack quietly groaned before forcing his eyes back open. His eyes were still red and glossy from sleep and when he spoke his voice was husky and his talking slow. “Still in a lot of pain.”

You glanced at the clock you had hanging on your wall to see how much time had passed since the last time you gave him any pain medication.

“You can have more medicine if you eat,” you gestured to the plate you had brought out. Jack followed to where your fingers were pointing. “It’s not good to take medication on an empty stomach.”

Jack hummed in acknowledgment before trying to sit up to eat. You watched him as he winced in pain but he didn’t say anything so you decided it was best for you to not bring anything up.

Halfway through eating and watching a rerun of The Office that was playing Jack sighed and put his fork down.

“I love your cooking,” he said almost wistfully. You glanced down at his plate and saw that only half of it was eaten, which was better than yesterday when he refused to eat anything.

“I would say thank you but I know that you routinely eat cold leftover pizza,” you huffed out a small laugh. That didn’t mean that Jack didn’t know how to cook. He could make something to sustain somebody but you couldn’t count on both of your hands the amount of times you had gone over to his apartment and saw a fridge with no food and just Gatorade and beer.

“I’m pretty confident you're the best cook I know.” He said as he burrowed himself back into the couch and under the blankets.

When he winced again you didn’t hesitate to reach over to the end table and grab the bottle of medication that he was prescribed. When you gave him the pills he immediately tipped his head back and swallowed them without water.

“I’m probably biased, though,” Jack said once he could.

You raised your eyebrow in curiosity. You finished chewing the food in your mouth before asking, “Biased how?”

“I love everything you do.”

Warmth floods your cheeks at his declaration. You hoped Jack wouldn’t notice it or that the medication would make him forget about it tomorrow. It’s not that you were embarrassed to let him see the effect he had on you, you just knew that if he was more coherent and present he’d probably tease you and perhaps it was self-absorbed or vain but all you wanted was to bask in his affections for you right now.

“Oh?” It was all you could think to say. Jack wasn’t the most affectionate when it came to words. It was obvious that his love language was physical touch so it’s not as if you had much experience in dealing with him saying sweet things randomly.

Jack hummed and nodded his head slowly. The pills you had given him were starting to kick in, you could tell as his eyelids grew heavier with every blink and the way his head slightly bobbed around as if he was trying to keep himself awake.

“Yeah,” his voice was low and slightly stirred but he kept his blue eyes trained on you. “I love everything about you.”

A bashful smile bloomed on your face and you didn’t try to hide it from your boyfriend. You placed your plate back on the table and kissed his cheek, “I love you too, Jack.”

When you pulled away and looked at Jack you were surprised to see a frown on his lips. He didn’t look upset or angry at what you said. Instead, he looked like he was thinking hard about something.

You didn’t lean back in for a kiss but instead, you lifted your hand to his face and rubbed your thumb over the wrinkles on his forehead. “Tell me what you’re thinking about otherwise you’ll end up with wrinkles from all that frowning.”

“You don’t get it, baby,” he spoke so softly you had to strain to hear him. “I love you. I love everything about you and I know you love me but it’s not even a comparison because I know I love you more than you love me.”

“That’s not true,” his words had left you feeling breathless but despite his sweet words, you needed him to know how much you loved him. “I can’t even put into words how much you mean to me.”

Jack’s eyes slid close but his soft and sleepy smile stayed. “You don’t get it, you’re like…” he paused for a long moment to find the right words. “You’re like the sun and I’m like a plant. I’m always seeking you out and I wouldn’t be able to survive if you were gone.”

You didn’t know what to say to that. A part of you wished that you had gotten it on camera because even though Jack was never one to shy away from talking about anything, he had never said anything remotely close to what he just told you.

However, it didn’t seem like he was looking for a response because less than a few seconds after his head dropped onto one of the many pillows behind him.

You say still on the couch for a moment waiting for your racing heart to go back to its regular rhythm. Once you felt stable again, you grabbed the plates as quietly as you could to not wake your boyfriend. When you stood from the couch to bring the dishes to the kitchen you were startled by the light grip on your arm. You looked down to see Jack had reached out to stop you from leaving.

“You know, I meant what I said right?” He asked, his eyes were still closed and his grip on you was becoming more and more loose by the second.

You grabbed his hand and set it down on his chest. “I know, Jacky.”

When he spoke again his words were slow and slurred, “Good, because you're the best thing to ever happen to me.”

The last few words were almost inaudible and before you could reply Jack was asleep. You smiled down at your sleeping boyfriend with a fond smile.

You brushed a piece of hair that was in his face away and leaned down to kiss his forehead softly.

“Trust me, I feel the same way.”

You know he couldn’t hear you but it felt important to you to say it out loud. When you finally left the living room and placed the dirty dishes into the dishwasher you couldn’t help but think that volunteering to take care of Jack after his surgery was a better decision than you originally had thought.

[girlokwhatever]

HEY! I saw ur writers block post & i’ve been WAITING for someone to do a kate martin x fem reader fic based off of Uh Oh by Tate McRae!

PLEASE MAKE MY DREAMS COME TRUE

i’m a genie in a bottle bby 😜

༝༚༘ ೀ⋆｡ ˚୧⋆｡🕯. -ʚɞ uh oh!,,

kate martin x fem!reader

you were swaying your body to the beat of whatever song they were playing at the club. you’d been dancing with his guy for a little while, your way of saying ‘thanks’ after he bought you a couple of drinks.

you could feel kate’s eyes watching your every move. your body grew hot under her gaze and it only encouraged you to keep going, knowing the affect it would have on her. you finally gave into her, allowing your eyes to wander and meet hers in an intense and highly intimate stare.

kate excuses herself, walking to the bathroom hoping knowing you’d follow. she knows you too well, probably from the numerous other nights you’ve been in this situation, because you do follow. forgetting about the guy, you push through sweaty bodies to get to her. before you step into the bathroom after her, you consider your actions.

fuck it.

you push through the door and she’s already waiting for you, pulling her hair back into a ponytail. the door locks behind you as you step closer to her, letting your attraction and lust for the woman in front of you control your actions. the feeling of her hands on you is too intoxicating; you can hardly remember the moments leading up to this.

“want you so bad,”

she’s whispering in your ear about how amazing you look, palming at your tits and tugging your shirt off. you can’t feel anything but her, just her.

her heavy breaths hitting your skin, her warm hands pulling your clothes off, her lips on yours, tongue on your body. your whole body was on fire, slowly slipping back into this cycle with her that you said you wouldn’t.

uh oh.

last night after leaving the club kate dropped you back off at your dorm. she tried telling herself that she wouldn’t give into you, but she did. and she knew she would again.

you woke up to a text from kate, deciding to ignore it and move on with your day. you definitely drank too much last night, feeling the effects of it on you as you walk to class.

kate texted you a few more times during class, even calling once. when she called you again after class your resistance was beginning to wane. every second you spent with kate was satisfactory for you, but you couldn’t let something that started out as a one-night stand take over your life.

you kept telling yourself it wouldn’t happen again.

a few days later kate showed up to your dorm, knocking until you answered.

“kate? what are you doing here?”

she doesn’t answer with words, surging forward to connect your lips with her own. it was needy and hot, everything moving so fast paced as she closes your door with her foot.

“jump.” and you do as she says, adding fuel to the fire that keeps your flame burning. you can’t focus on anything but her and how she tastes against your tongue. your head spins when she drops you down on your bed like she owns this space, and in a way she does.

“kate-” you’re trying to be reasonable, trying to keep the few day streak of not giving in alive.

“just let me have this please. let me have you.”

and you let her. you’re doing it again.

uh oh.

she left that night when you were sleeping, leaving a note thanking you for a ‘good time.’ after reading it through you made a promise to yourself that it was the last time.

when you saw her a few weeks later you knew you’d end up breaking your promise. she looked too good, hair in a bun and legs clad in cargos. she saw you too, instantly feeling drawn to your half of the floor. she didn’t hesitate to find you immediately, noting that the both of you were a little too drunk for your own good.

“wanna dance?”

you scoff at her and she’s playfully rolling her eyes, pulling you to the middle of the party dance floor anyway. you don’t resist, letting her hands guide you where she wants you like you do every time.

you’d been doing so good at avoiding her, but now that she’s here all your efforts slip away. even though all your hard work is in the drain, you make the realization that you don’t care much.

“just have fun.” and you do.

her hands find solace on your hips, pulling you against her as your body moves to the rhythm of the music. kate loves the way you feel against her, deep down knowing she doesn’t ever want to have to live without it.

both of your friends know of your infatuations for each other, noting every time both of you happened to disappear at the same time. that’s why when kate pulled you out of the back door of the bar they didn’t question where she’d gone.

“wanna go to my place?” she asks you, breathless from making out with you after pushing you against the brick wall of the building.

“i need to go back to my place kate..”

your hands hold the sides of her face and she knows you’re lying when you pull her back in for another kiss. you really can’t help yourself when it comes to her, allowing her to take you back to her dorm. you’d say yes to anything to asks you and you’re not sure if that’s the alcohol or just you. it doesn’t really matter to you.

you walk through her door, remembering this place from a few months ago. she’s behind you, trailing hands up your shirt as she kisses from behind your ear down to your shoulder. she wishes she could crawl under your skin, fearing that moments like these will never end her desire to have you.

before you know it, you’re naked on her couch. her tongue pushes in and out of your leaking cunt and you’re crying out her name, hoping no one can hear you. kate’s thumb circles your clit and you feel your whole body pulsate, jumbling your words while trying to tell her you’re ’gonna cum.’

she takes everything you give her, licking every inch of your skin until you’re raw. kate thinks to herself about how pretty you are spread open for her and it makes her want to ask you to stay.

she doesn’t say anything though, just pulling your clothes back on for you and laying your body on top of hers. you might leave when you come to your senses and she knows that. she knows you’ll both tell yourselves it won’t happen again, but it always does.

neither of you mind much.

uh oh.

⚘‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾⭒❃.✮:▹♥*♡∞:｡.｡

hey girly pops i’m kinda proud of this..

i hope whoever requested it really likes it!!! 😘

[flowerandblood]

Death and Resurrection

The Gate of Salvation Universe Oneshot

[ young pope • Aemond x catholic • female ]

[ warnings: sex content, smut, angst, sexual tension, anxiety, doubts related to faith, religious guilt, breaking celibacy ]

[ description: When the Pope decides, after drawing inspiration from TV series, that they will go on a date, she knows that she cannot refuse. However, it turns out that their adventure ends differently than they both expected and a boundary is crossed from which there is no return. Main theme: sexual tension & holy touch. ]

This oneshot is the events that take place a few months after The Gate of Salvation and The Songs of Songs. It can be read as a oneshot, but at the same time it is a complement to the entire series.

Aemond as a Pope Edit Series Characters Moodboard Aemond NSFW Alphabet

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

My other works: Masterlist

_____

"Where are we going?" She asked apprehensively − they had never gone underground together before, the cramped, dark corridor beneath the Papal Residence through which he led her while holding her hand smelled of centuries-old dampness.

His attire also made her uneasy − he was dressed all in a white tracksuit, a hood over his head and sunglasses with white frames on his nose.

He wore this outfit whenever he wanted to get away somewhere.

"We're going on a date." He communicated softly, as if he was just explaining to her what they were going to have for breakfast. She shook her head, looking back in horror, feeling her heart pounding like mad.

"Please, Holy Father. We can't." She mumbled helplessly, knowing that usually when he came up with an idea it was difficult to dissuade him from it.

She thought with horror that it was because of a TV series they had recently watched. He insisted that she show him the blockbusters she loved as a child on her laptop, so she decided to show him The Office for fun. She turned on a random episode and the main characters in it went on a date, leaving him bewildered.

She thought he would be disgusted by the jokes and humor in this series, but he was intrigued by something completely different.

"What's so great about dating? What's the point of it? Why can't they just meet up and talk about what's important to them?" He asked with a frustration that surprised her.

She realised that his years in the church and convent had completely disconnected him from the life he could have lived as a teenager.

She wasn't sure how she should explain this.

"It's true, however, you can't be serious all your life. Sometimes, as we are doing now, a couple feels like watching a film and just being together. It's pleasant then, for example, to go to eat ice cream, to take a walk in the park, to have shared memories, shared moments." She muttered, feeling embarrassed that her explanation was childish and that he certainly thought she was silly.

He, however, only pressed his lips together at her words, as if something in her words troubled him, his fingers beginning to play with the fabric of her dress covering her knees, trailing over her bare skin after a moment.

"Would you like to experience something like this?" He asked as if unwillingly, tense.

She knew she couldn't ask that of him.

What they were doing was too much anyway, and they both knew it.

She smiled at that thought, squeezing his fingers in hers.

"No, Holy Father. You give me more than I would dare to ask. I am happy and fulfilled." She said softly. His gaze lifted to her as if to see if she was telling the truth − his arm finally embraced her and drew her close, her cheek pressed lightly against his chest.

She was sure he'd forgotten about it, but he'd clearly taken her words so personally that he couldn't get over it.

"I had it all planned out. We’ll blend in with the crowd, have an ice creams, walk around the Vatican and come back. After this we can kiss if you want." He added after a moment, as if he thought that might be part of her ideal image of the event.

She swallowed loudly at the thought, feeling at once terror, discomfort and warmth in her heart, love for him, gratitude at how much he cared, how much he wanted to give her everything she could possibly need in his mind.

She pressed her lips together at the thought that when they stepped outside he hadn't let go of her hand − he intertwined their fingers together as they headed quickly down the main street between the cramped tenements, looking around.

"It should be somewhere in there. I checked on the map." He said excitedly, like a little boy pulling her behind him towards a café that held a huge fridge outside, where you could actually order ice cream.

She looked around as they got closer, afraid that by some miracle even though no one knew what he looked like, someone would connect the dots, someone would recognise him.

As if he always had to wear that bloody white tracksuit.

"Good evening." The girl standing at the counter greeted them, waiting for their order.

"Good evening. We'd like five scoops of ice cream in two different cones, please. What flavours do you want?"

"Five? That's too many, we won't eat it all." She muttered surprised, looking at him in disbelief. He turned towards her, his eyes hidden behind his glasses, all she saw was that he furrowed his brow.

"No? Are you sure?" He asked with disappointment, from which she scratched her cheek.

"I mean…if you are sure you can eat that much then, take it. I'll stick with two."

Holy Father seemed displeased, however, he cheered up when he saw the size of his cone with scoops in cream, vanilla, strawberry, toffee and blueberry. She watched with amusement as he struggled to eat with a plastic spoon what had started to run down the waffle into the bottom of his cone, herself taking her ice cream from the seller.

"How is it? Do you like it?" She asked with a laugh, seeing him lick his fingers, all sticky from the berry cream.

"Very much. It's delicious. What should we do now?" He asked, looking around, eating and at the same time trying not to stain his snowy white tracksuit.

"Let's just stroll."

They moved ahead arm in arm, looking around the evening skyline of the Vatican, focusing only on the food and this surprisingly pleasant moment.

"Have you done this before? Dating and all?" He asked reluctantly, as if the thought that she might have done it with another man before him made him uncomfortable. She looked at him indulgently, trying to hide a smile of amusement.

"Not really. I haven't had the opportunity. I have never been as close to anyone as I have been to you, Holy Father."

"Aemond."

"Pardon?"

He shrugged his shoulders, taking a bit of strawberry ice cream into his mouth.

"That's my name. I won't mind if you use it when we're alone." He muttered, visibly tense, as if what he'd said, the fact that he'd exposed himself to her terrified him.

She smiled involuntarily at his words, embarrassed.

"Very well."

After a few minutes, she could clearly see that the portion he'd ordered for himself had outgrown him − he was eating slower and slower, and it occurred to her that he'd gone pale when she'd long since finished eating her ice cream. He wanted to share his portion with her, but she shook her head.

"I can't fit any more. But if you don't have the strength to eat it, don't force yourself." She muttered, seeing him sigh heavily.

"Wasting food is a sin." He mumbled and continued eating, apparently trying not to think about the discomfort in his stomach.

It wasn't even a few seconds after he had squeezed the last bit of cone into himself when he vomited the entire contents of his stomach into one of the bins.

She ran up to him quickly, horrified, stroking his back, taking from his face the glasses that had rolled down his nose so they wouldn't fall right into his puke.

"Oh dear. Are you okay?" She asked tenderly, at the same time unable to hold back a smile of pity thinking that she had warned him after all.

He was like a little child.

When they returned back to his residence by the same route they had fled he wanted to go back to his room, although he usually insisted that she let him sleep in her bed.

"Let's go to my place. I don't want you to spend the night alone when you're feeling unwell." She said softly, grasping his fingers. He pulled down the hood from his head, all pale, fatigue in his eye.

"I ruined everything."

Though reluctantly, he followed her as she began to pull him towards her room. After he had brushed his teeth and brought himself to order, he lay on the bed without strength − he watched indifferently as she changed into her pyjamas, closing his eyes, as he always did when she revealed her naked flesh.

She was touched by how much respect he had for her, how important it was for him to treat her body with proper reverence.

She lay down beside him, turning off the lamp beforehand, his face immediately snuggled against her soft breasts.

"Do you love me?"

She froze and swallowed loudly, feeling her heart begin to pound like mad under his cheek, her hand that had been stroking his hair stopped in mid-motion.

"I love you. You are the love of my life."

She pressed her lips together when she heard him gasp, an indication that he was crying but didn't want her to see it. It took him a moment to get more out of himself, her lips placing warm, reassuring kisses on his head.

"Forgive me for not being able to give you what you need."

"You give it to me."

"You know what I mean. Sometimes I wonder…" He began and hesitated, swallowing heavily, as if afraid to say his words aloud.

"…I wonder what would happen if I left, if I married you. I imagine we would have had children, a house with a garden. That we would have had a dog. That we would pray in the evening and then make love and it wouldn't be a sin."

She shuddered at his words, feeling a drop of cold sweat run down her back, her body tensed, all hot.

"− I − you would not forgive me for that −" She muttered helplessly. She felt him rise up on his elbow, his lips parted in an accelerated breath, his cheeks swollen from tears.

"− for what? −"

"− that I have destroyed your life − pulled you away from God and your destiny −" She whispered in a trembling voice, feeling a warm tear fall from the corner of her eyes onto the pillow under her head.

He looked at her with a gaze filled with pain, breathing heavily, playing with the fabric of her shirt between his fingers.

"− but it is in your presence that I feel his presence most strongly − as if he were in the room with us −"

"− the devil takes the form of angels −" She mumbled wearily, letting the air out loudly, feeling that her throat was squeezed with pain.

Was this the moment?

The moment when she would have to say farewell to him, do the right thing?

"I have deceived you for too long. Forgive me. I will give my official notice tomorrow."

He looked at her dully, as if he didn't understand what she had just said, his breath stuck in his throat.

"− you said you love me −"

"− I do −"

"− that you won't leave me alone −"

"− I won't leave, not in my prayers − but I'm destroying your life, pulling you away from what matters −"

"− is it because of this stupid date? − I regret ever taking you there −" He hissed, as if he was furious at his idea and the woman who sold them ice cream.

"− no, of course not − Holy Father −"

"− Aemond −" He growled.

She pressed her lips together, swallowing hard, the first time she had seen him like this − his jaw clenched, his nostrils twitching in accelerated, anxious breathing, his gaze dark and cold.

She didn't recognise him.

"− don't you remember what I said to you when I first met you? − there is no greater sinner in the world than me − because I am eternally, eternally thirsty −" He said slowly and carefully, like a predator who was just slowly preparing to lash out at its prey.

"− do you think you know what I desire? − what I really need? − I'll show you −" He said lowly, not even giving her time to reply − his lips immediately clung to hers in an aggressive, impatient kiss that took her breath away, a startled, muffled squeal escaping from her throat.

She felt his body pressed her back against the bed as his hips began to rub his hard manhood hidden under the material of his sweatpants to the spot between her thighs making her shake with a strong, wonderful shiver of pleasure.

"− mghm −" She mumbled out, clenching her fingers in his hair as she felt his slick tongue invade deep into her throat, licking her with its tip − she was panting into his mouth, shocked, involuntarily responding by rocking her hips to his movements.

"− undress −" He breathed out, rising up on his knees, pulling the material of his sweatshirt over his head with a quick, impatient swipe of his hands − she stared at him with wide eyes, feeling her insides clench greedily around nothing at the sight of his bare chest.

Her trembling fingers quickly rose to the buttons of her shirt, undoing it one by one, exposing her skin piece after piece. She shuddered and moaned, surprised, as his hands pushed the material aside, revealing her breasts and stomach.

His lips parted in desire at the sight − his hand tentatively rose higher, running gently over her bare flesh, kneading and massaging her breast between his fingers.

For the first time he was looking at her naked body, at what he was doing, and she felt like she was going to die of desire. It seemed to her that everything that happened next was like a dream − his swollen lips that clung to hers, their panting as they impatiently slid every piece of their clothing off each other, when at last his bare skin pressed against hers.

"− Aemond −" She gasped out into his mouth, feeling his thick length rubbing against her achingly swollen folds, their hands trailing blindly over their naked, sweaty bodies, pressing into their exposed skin as if to melt them into one.

"− fuck − so warm − so soft − like silk −" He murmured, sliding his lips down to her jaw, neck and shoulders, leaving wet, sticky trails behind − her body arched back with her innocent, surprised whine as his mouth finally pressed down around her puffy, hard nipple and began to suck on it.

"− yes − God, yes −" She mumbled, involuntarily spreading her legs in front of him − she heard his grunt of delight as he moved his hips back in a soft motion so that a moment later she could feel the fat, leaking head of his cock begin to push against her slick opening.

She guided him with the movement of her body to where he should slide in, only to hear his sigh of delight a moment later as he thrust deeply into her with an impatient, desperate push of his hips.

"− yes − yes, yes, yes −" She panted, tilting her head back with her eyes closed, digging her fingers into the hot skin of his buttocks, startling him as she threw her legs around his waist, crossing them over his back.

Nothing but grunts and noises of pleasure left his throat as, with his lips pressed against her nipple, he pounded into her again and again with deep, greedy, fast thrusts, from which their bodies slapped against each other again and again with loud, sticky splats.

For the first time in her life, she was experiencing something so animal and spiritual at the same time − him deep inside her, stretching her tight, fleshy walls apart, doing what was natural to man, what Adam had done to Eve back in Eden.

"− forgive me − I −" He breathed out at last, as if with each successive brutal thrust of his hips he understood that there would be no turning back from this, that they had crossed a line after which nothing would be the same again, that he would take her for himself in every sense of the word.

"− inside me − please, inside me −" She mumbled helplessly, thinking only of the fact that she craved his seed inside her, that she could be his lover, his whore, bear his children if it meant spending her life by his side.

By the side of the man she loved.

She reached her peak with a sweet little moan of relief at the thought, at the image of herself and him, holding their children in their arms. She heard him gasp loudly at her words and closed his eyes, panting heavily as she suddenly felt something hot and sticky squirt out of him deep inside her.

"− f-fuck − fuck, oh, God −" He mumbled out, rocking his hips inside her with a loud click of their shared wetness for a moment longer, his mouth wide open, his eyes closed, as if he wanted to remember this moment forever.

After a moment, he looked at her − there was a calmness in his eyes and some kind of certainty, as if he already knew what was right.

"− marry me −"

[hypnotiiize]

𝐠𝐨𝐝𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬

𝘪𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘦𝘹𝘦𝘴 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘨𝘰𝘥𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥’𝘴 𝘣𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘪𝘴𝘮

𝐣𝐮𝐝𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐚𝐦 𝐱 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫’𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: this is real old and angsty like not for fake. it’s short though. also i grew up catholic so u gotta bear w the lil references and shit. trigger warning religious talk kinda

She couldn’t remember much of the year if she was being honest. 

She could remember her best friends’ wedding.

She could remember Valentine’s day.

She could remember March and April breezing past her, a mixture of Easter and celebrating her friend’s birthday.

She could remember the drowsiness that overcame her in May. She could remember how it followed her well into June.

She could remember her friend’s baby being born, and she could remember smiling down at his tiny squished face.

And she was happy for them, she was. But, when she found herself in her newly quiet home at the end of the day, the reality remained that she was alone. Utterly alone. No one to turn to. No one to rely on. Alone. She felt that this was her fault. 

When her friend called and cried to her about new motherhood delivering a swift kick to her backside, she accepted the opportunity to stay with her friends for a few days, maybe even weeks— however long it would take for her friend to get back on her feet with a new addition to the household.

The record was three weeks. July was almost over. Amelie, ever-grateful, had even told her that she could go back home if she wanted. The woman, not wanting to overstay her welcome, accepted that as well.

She had been accepting a lot of things, it seemed. She would leave the following week, after the event that was planned meticulously for the baby.

It was when she was getting ready to go to sleep early— the baby had a habit of scream-crying at the break of dawn and she liked being up with him— that she received a knock at the guest bedroom door. Curious, she tip-toed across the room and found herself opening the door to reveal her tired friend whose smile grew as she rocked her fast-asleep son. [y/n] invited them in and grabbed the baby at once, sitting on the bed with his little body cradled in her arms. 

“Okay, I wanted to tell you so that you weren’t, like, bombarded with this,” Amelie began after a small chat about how the baby had just done something cute.

She involuntarily put pressure on her eyebrows, furrowing them together.

Amelie folded her hands in her lap. “You know his baptism is next week and you know you’re his Godmother, of course... I tried to talk Trent out of it, but he’s going to make you know who his Godfather.”

She could feel herself gasp at the mention of you know who. She definitely knew who. 

“If it makes you uncomfortable, I get it. And I get it if you’re not ready to see him. I can have someone else step in as his Godmother for the ceremony if you can’t do it. You don’t have to go to the party. What are you feeling?” Amelie asked.

She bit the skin of her bottom lip. She looked down at the almost two-month-old who looked so much like her friends that it was crazy. He was blinking up at her with his bottom lip poked out, looking scandalized. She laughed and rubbed the pad of her finger over his dark waves.

“I’m feeling a little overwhelmed… But I can do it. I don’t care about him. This is for my Godbaby. Right? This is for my Godson,” she cooed to the baby who half-smiled. 

“You’re sure?” 

“Sure. Yes. Yeah.” She was trying to convince herself more than anything and she knew it. “No one cares about that man, anyway. It’s just Rayan’s day..” The baby smiled as if he knew what they were talking about, and the women fussed over him a bit more. When the familiar weight pressed itself against her shoulders, She sighed. “I need a drink.”

“Go raid Trent’s cabinet, girl. You know he’s not shy about Don Julio,” her friend joked about her husband.

There was a painful twang in her chest at once. Her husband. Her friend was joking about her husband. A man who she shared a child, a home, and a life with.

She could taste iron. She would later realize that she had bit the inside of her cheek open. For now, she chopped the stinging sensation up to the of moths fumbling about in her stomach. 

Her friend took her Godson and she was left alone once more. She laid her head on the linen pillow and stared blankly at the room before her. Wistfully, she imagined Amelie and Trent embracing each other at the end of the very long day. She imagined them nuzzling against the other as they gazed down at their sleeping baby boy. Then, she imagined everything that could have been.

She fell into a slumber with remnants of saline tears on her cheeks, and she woke up days later wearing a crisp white blouse and her best earrings. Rayan’s baptism. 

He barely left his mother’s arms that day. He was tiny and it was a big day for him and he was wearing a long, pristine white dress that used to be his grandfather’s when he was that small. So Rayan slept, and she tried not to kick open the church doors and run as far as her legs could take her. 

She knew he was in the room. She could feel it. If she opened her mouth to speak, she could taste it. If she inhaled too deeply, she could smell it. His presence was the sustenance that her soul had been missing for far too long and she was being punished for it. Her hands were shaking. She slipped off to the bathroom three times before she realized that her issues could affect the day. Being unreliable or looking flaky was the last thing she’d wanted to do after making it so far through the day. When she sat back down in the pews, she crossed her hands extra tight in her lap and kept her neck arched high. She would shake it off. This was for Rayan. 

After some time she stood with her friends and made her way to the front of the church. She could feel him behind her. Then beside her. She willed herself not to look at him and focused solely on swearing to remain a key figure in the baby’s life.

For you, I’ll do my best. 

He made his pledges after her. She felt as if she couldn’t breathe. He was so close to her. She could feel the echo of his baritone in her feet. She could taste iron, far more pronounced this time.

The baby was placed in her arms, and the metallic flavor dissipated at once. She secured her arm around his head and tugged his gown down. He whined, only to stop a second later when his mother kissed his hand. 

The priest asked the Godparents to move closer. She stepped forward and nodded when appropriate. The priest said something that she didn’t really catch. She had been too busy making sure Rayan was comfortable. Brown hands came forward and untied the loose strings around the baby’s neck. He pulled the baby’s hat off. She could hear the ocean in her head. 

She leaned forward and lowered her elbow an inch. The priest placed his hands in the tub of water before him and her. He poured water on the baby’s dark tufts of hair. One hand, then two, then another for good measure. Rayan let out a short cry from the temperature of the water.

“It’s okay, honey, you did great,” she whispered to her Godson when it was all over. She held him tighter, closer to her face.

“Maybe he’s cold,” the familiar voice said. “Here, let me put his hat back on.” Brown hands came into view and she watched him make the loose loop-the-loop. Rayan calmed down. 

Rayan’s parents came and uttered softly to their son. His mother fought tears. His father let them glide down his cheeks freely, rubbing the top of the baby’s bonnet with a thumb. 

“Hey,” the Godfather’s low voice was saying. He was not whispering. Anyone could have heard him. Though, when she thinks back on the moment, she can remember the soft, whispering tickle of his breath hitting her ear. She wanted him to be whispering. 

 She greeted him back weakly and she did not try to hide it. With everyone focused on Rayan, the awkward encounter would just be their own and she could not muster the strength to make it anything but. 

The corner of his mouth quirked up, weakly too, and he said, “You look really nice.”

All at once, she could hear the ocean. She could hear volcanoes erupting. She could feel the familiar sharp chill of ice, and she could smell the smoke of paper burning. 

She could not remember what her response was, or if she even responded at all. She could only remember the pain of living without the only man she had loved for months after being together for so long.

Through the fog, a voice prompted, “Let’s get a pic with the Godparents.”

She craned her head and found herself staring at a man that she had gone to school with. Kareem was known for being tall, charismatic, and a photographer. Therefore, she was not surprised that her friend had invited him to the gathering. Though she wished that someone would have filled him in on the current situation before he suggested such things. 

Rayan’s parents moved away. She took a half step closer to Rayan’s Godfather. Rayan’s Godfather took a half step closer to her.

For the first time in months, they were pressed against each other. 

Her chest felt hollow. Icy. It burned to inhale. It took too much effort to exhale. She lifted the baby so that he was perfectly between them. A brown hand fixed the baby’s dress. Fingertips grazed fingertips. She could taste iron pooling just behind her teeth, and then she smiled. 

Her first tear fell when the camera shuttered for the last time. The people were emotional, too. They spoke to the baby in whispers. The Godfather left her side to go gawk at his Godson. 

It was only her in the center of that stage. She was alone. There was no one in her corner anymore. 

She had no husband. No new baby to baptize. No boyfriend to envision her future with. 

She felt as if she was going to drown. She sucked in a burning breath. 

She tasted the iron.

[prettyboypistol]

TF2 Mercs on Your Birthday! TF2 x M!Reader (platonic or romantic)

Scout

Super excited when you tell him your birthday and throws a big(for Scout, anyway.) party with streamers, haphazardly iced cupcakes, and a small little boombox with a mixtape for you!

Tried to make you a cake but fucked up a little bit, so he turned the non burnt parts into cupcakes.

He really does mean well- really! He was so excited to hear about your birthday since you two are kind of close in age! What? You're older than him by a decade! Doesn't matter to him!

Soldier

PICKS YOU UP AND PARADES YOU AROUND LIKE THE BIRTHDAY BOY YOU ARE STAND UP MAGGOTS AND SALUTE THE BIRTHDAY BOY!!!!

Since you and him get on like a house on fire, he gets you a cake and formally celebrates your birthday

As soon as you two start drinking he starts sobbing about how he's known you and doesn't let go of you

Pyro

This video fr

this motherfucker is so fuckin EXCITED for you. They're majorly bouncy and gifting you the best drawings/plushies

Tries his best to stay lucid the entire day. but the stress of trying to make sure your birthday is amazing

Heavy

Doesn't do much for your birthday, but does little things for you throughout the day like sharing with you, joking with you, etc.

He'll tell you happy birthday and buy you a beer at the end of the night as a gift.

Maybe a little handknit scarf or something.

Demoman

HAAAAAPPY BIIIIRTHDAY TOOOO YOUUUUUUUUU

I hope you like bingedrinking and movie watching because he got the day off for both of you and none of those hours are going to be spent sober.

Goes on a rant about how much he loves you and cares deeply about you at like, 5 PM. then falls asleep on your shoulder.

Engineer

Treats your birthday like every other day- after all, he doesn't know how you feel about your birthday.

If you ask for something nice or drop hints that it is your birthday, he'll cook you a nice dinner and make you a little doohickey.

Asks to spend the evening with you just sitting and shooting the shit with you.

Sniper

A lot like Engineer, doesn't bring it up unless you do. He doesn't know if your birthday is a rough day for you so he's not going to ask unless you say something first.

If you're privvy to something though, he'll run into the gas station and get you your favorite candy as a little gift.

Offers to go hunting with you to "Get'cha away from the loud crowd for a bit."

Spy

If he likes you, there will be a bottle of fancy wine at your room's door with a birthday note attached, but he won't mention that it's him(but he will comment about how that bottle must have cost a fortune)

He's the more strong silent type, but if people keep bothering you about things then he'll be your dashing rogue and sweep you away to his smoking room where he'll offer you a marijuana cigarette and some whiskey.

"Why? It's your birthday, after all. Those buffoons give me a headache."

Medic

Probably forgets your birthday, and at your next doctor's appointment when he goes over your file, you correct him and say how old you are, he goes "Oh! Happy birthday!" and continues on.

Secretly he's sad that he missed your birthday and gets you a cupcake or something sweet as a late birthday gift.

hums "happy birthday to you" while operating on you for about a few days.

[makeitmingi]

The Cat and Dog Game [Chapter 41]

Genre: Romance, Fluff, Comedy

Pairing: Yunho x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Chef!Reader, RestaurantOwner!Yunho, MaitreD!Hongjoong, Waiter!Yeosang, Waiter!San, Waiter!Mingi, SousChef!Seonghwa, SousChef!Wooyoung, PrepChef!Jongho

Summary: Yunho's dream was to open and run his own restaurant. But he doesn't know anything when it comes to cooking. Until you came along and accepted the job, bringing with you a small crew. How will the black cat tame the energetic golden retriever?

Word count: 3.4K

Last week...

"Before everyone goes off for the night, can I have you all gather in the front for a bit? I would like to make an announcement." Yunho poked his head into the kitchen. You all glanced at each other then nodded your heads.

"What's up, boss man?" Wooyoung asked, emerging from the kitchen with the rest of you in tow. You and Seonghwa leaned against the counter, with you resting your head against his shoulder.

"It won't take long. So, our one year anniversary of the shop being open is drawing near." Yunho smiled.

"Damn, it's been a year, already?" Hongjoong let out a long exhale.

"To celebrate and thank you all for your efforts, we'll be closing for the entire week next week. I've booked a beach house in Yeosu, we'll drive up and spend a few days there." Yunho smiled.

"Wait, are you for real?" San blinked, smiling in excitement. Yunho nodded with a grin.

"Woah! Vacation!" Mingi cheered, hi-fiving Yeosang.

"It'll be a nice break. Enjoy the outdoors away from the busy city life." Seonghwa shrugged.

"Eww, grandpa." You and Wooyoung stuck your tongues out with disgust. Seonghwa just rolled his eyes, used to yours and Wooyoung's taunting jokes. Since you were the closest to him, Seonghwa wrapped an arm around you, pulling you into a noogie while you yelled in protest.

"Hwa!" You squealed as everyone just looked on, this was normal to them now and would rather not get involved with yours and Seonghwa's bickering.

"Call me old again!" He threatened. You pinched his waist, making him squirm and let you go.

"Anyway, considering the number of people and the amount of luggages we'll have, I rented 3 vans." Yunho informed.

"Nice. We can take turns driving." Jongho smiled. Yunho gave more details abouts this 'retreat' vacation but everyone was only partially listening, being too excited to listen.

"Thanks, Yunho ah. We're all looking forward to it." The boys all thanked Yunho.

"Heading back with us?" Jongho asked you.

"Whiskey's with Yunho so I'm staying at his tonight." You said. They nodded and gave you hugs. Seonghwa kissed your temple and squeezed your hand before they went to their cars. You slung your bag over your shoulder and went back to the front.

"Staying at Yunho's tonight?" San tilted his head. You nodded, smiling softly, watching Yunho and Yeosang work over the computer for the restaurant's social media page.

"It's really been a year, huh? Time flies quickly when you're so busy." Mingi snorted.

"Yeah. And just like that, my contract here with the crew is ending." You pointed out. Mingi and San looked at each other.

"But... you're resigning... right?" San looked at you with uncertainty. You didn't know, that was something you would have to discuss with Yunho when the time comes.

"I don't know what the future holds. And if Seonghwa, Wooyoung or Jongho want to leave. I won't stop them." You shrugged.

"That's nice of you, (y/n)." Mingi complimented.

"I'm not their boss or owner. They can go where ever they want. They're always being offered positions in high class, top of the line restaurants but turn them down to stick with me." You chuckled.

"You work well as a team, anyone can see it through the way you communicate and work. Having to leave this good synergy and work with strangers in a bigger, more high pressured environment is a lot on a person, emotionally, physically and mentally." San pointed out. You nodded in agreement.

"Ready to go?" Yunho jogged over, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. You nodded and waved to the others before heading to the back with Yunho.

"What were you guys talking about?" He asked as he retrieved his bag and coat from the locker room.

"Nothing important." You shrugged. He hummed and held your hand, giving you a kiss on the forehead, leading you out to his car.

"So, what do you think of the trip? Excited? I don't know if you're an outdoors person but I thought some peace in the countryside might be good and-" You cut Yunho off by pressing your lips to his.

"It sounds like it'll be fun, Yunho. With you and the boys." You pulled away with a soft smile on your lips.

"I'm glad. You deserve a break." He gave you a dreamy, dazed smile, making you laugh.

"We all do." You corrected and Yunho nodded. His family and Seonghwa's family had been constantly checking up on you after the fight with your father, you were truly grateful.

"Alright, let's go back to Whiskey before he starves to death. And by the way, my parents said they'll take care of him while we're away so you don't have to worry about him, okay?" Yunho started the car and drove back to his place.

"Sure, I'll cook or bake something to bring to them when we drop Whiskey off. To thank them properly." You smiled.

You hummed to yourself as you packed snacks and drinks into the cooler for the trip. Seonghwa and Jongho were behind you, making sandwiches for everyone.

"I'm here. Sorry I'm late, Kyungmin wouldn't let me go." Wooyoung groaned as he burst through the door.

"You stayed at your parents' place last night?" Seonghwa asked.

"I needed to borrow dad's suitcase so I brought stuff there, packed it into the suitcase and slept there." Wooyoung yawned, shuffling over and throwing his arms around you.

"Morning. Mingi and Hongjoong hyung are getting the other two vans." Yunho came out, fresh from the shower.

"Hey." You all greeted him back. Yunho came over and leaned in to give you a kiss.

"I'm right here." Wooyoung mumbled, still glued to your side with Yunho's body draped over his.

"No one asked you to be here." You squirmed to make him release his grip on you. You grabbed the huge jar of cold brew coffee from the fridge and put it into the cooler as well. Yunho chuckled and grabbed himself a mug of coffee as he looked over what all of you were packing for the trip.

"It's only a 4 hour drive and there'll be food there, you know? No need to pack the whole kitchen." He joked when he saw the amount of food that was being made and packed.

"Just in case anyone gets hungry. There's 9 of us. And you and Seonghwa hyung each eat for 3 people." Jongho reminded.

"Rude." Seonghwa hit the back of Jongho's head.

"Alright. We're done. Let me go grab my last minute things." You washed your hands and jogged to the room, not knowing that Yunho was behind you.

"You're bringing Yuyu and Yunnie?" Yunho asked, leaning against the door fram as he sipped his coffee.

"I'm gonna ignore the underlying judgement in your tone." You scoffed, tucking Yuyu under one arm and Yunnie under the other.

"No judgement at all, love. It's cute." He chuckled, coming over to kiss the crown of your head. You sent him a skeptical look but brushed past him to go out, placing Yuyu and Yunnie on your luggage, which was already packed and ready.

"Mingi and Hongjoong hyung are downstairs with the rest. Shall I asked them to come upstairs or are we ready to head down?" Yunho asked, looking at his phone.

"We're ready." Wooyoung said. You did a final check that all the lights and electronics in your house was off before you all went down.

"Good morning." The other boys greeted.

"Morning." You all replied back. San, half asleep, smiled and came over to hug you. Your eyes widened in surprise but laughed and patted his back.

"Sleep in the van, Sannie." You cooed. He nodded his head with a cute hum. Yunho scowled, dragging San away from you.

"So how are we splitting into the vans?" Yeosang asked once all the bags were loaded into the backs of all 3 vans.

"I'm driving one of the vans first and (y/n)'s with me no matter what so we need one more person." Yunho raised his hand, voicing out quickly. Besides Yunho, it seemed that Mingi and Hongjoong were the other two drivers, for the first part of the trip that is. You raised an eyebrow.

"Who says I wanna be with you? I always ride with Hwa." You asked. Yunho's jaw dropped slightly while Seonghwa snickered.

"But... But we're always together." Yunho frowned with a pout.

"We all drive so rotating drivers will be easy. The first batch of drivers will drive to the first rest stop at least." Hongjoong said, ignoring Yunho's whines.

"Good plan." You hummed. In the end, it was decided that you would ride with Yunho and Jongho. Mingi, San and Wooyoung would take one van while Hongjoong, Seonghwa and Yeosang the last van.

"You always give into him." Mingi shook his head.

"Like you don't. You've been giving into him longer than I have." You poked the taller's chest.

"True. Because he gives into me a lot too." Mingi laughed, wrapped an arm around your shoulders. He pressed his head into your temple as you shared a laugh.

"Hey, we have to get going!" Yunho yelled. You patted Mingi on the back and went to your van. Seonghwa gave out food, snacks and drinks to all the vans. You poured out coffee into to go cups for those that wanted it for the drive.

"As expected, travelling with chefs is indeed different." Yeosang laughed and sipped his coffee. After Jongho handed out the walkie talkies to everyone, you all jumped into your vans and drove out.

"You and Mingi hyung were awfully friendly." Jongho coughed.

"Shut up, Jong." You rolled your eyes, getting comfortable in the passenger seat with Yuyu and Yunnie.

"Don't pout. Jongho's just tryna start something." You reached over to pinch Yunho's cheek. Climbing over the middle console, you gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"Ugh I shouldn't have chosen the van with the couple." Jongho faked a gag of disgust.

"What, you jealous? Want me to give you a kiss on the cheek too?" You teased, making Jongho stick his tongue out at you.

"You should get some sleep, love. It'll be a while until the first rest stop." Yunho turned to cast you a soft smile. You shook your head, unwrapping a sandwich to eat.

"Here, we'll share." You chewed, holding it out to Yunho to take a bite. You knew he was always hungry, just like Seonghwa. And he wouldn't feel tired if he's eating. After turning your head to offer Jongho a sandwich, you noticed that he was already asleep. But you kept yourself awake, wanting to accompany Yunho.

"What can we do when we get there?" You asked, taking another bite of the sandwich.

"There's a beach a few minutes walk away from the house so activities will be beach stuff like play in the sand, swim, all that sort of things." Yunho informed.

"Play in the sand?" You laughed with a raised eyebrow.

"Hey, I make a mean sandcastle, alright?" Yunho scoffed. You giggled and settled further into the seat.

"Seriously, my love. Go to sleep, hmm? I'll be fine, not even tired. Infinite golden retriever energy, remember?" Yunho coaxed. You rolled your eyes.

"Fine. But wake me if you feel like you're falling asleep or ask Jongho to take over." You said.

"Yes, ma'am. And I'm offended you think I would put you in such danger." Yunho squinted his eyes at you.

Pulling your jacket over your legs, you held Yuyu and Yunnie, leaning against the corner between the seat and the door behind closing your eyes and letting sleep take over you. It wasn't hard considering you barely slept last night, packing for the trip.

*KNOCK KNOCK*

You jumped when the tapping on the window jolted you awake. You sat up properly, looking around and seeing Seonghwa's standing outside the car door.

"Rise and shine, sweetheart. We're at the first rest stop." Seonghwa cooed, brushing the hair away from your face.

"Come on." Seonghwa helped you out of the passenger seat.

"Wait, where's Yunho?" You yawned, not even realising Yunho was right behind you. You held Seonghwa's hand, letting him lead you since you were still half asleep.

"I'm here, love." Yunho chuckled, finding you absolutely adorable with how you followed Seonghwa like a lost child.

"Still sleepy, love?" Yunho asked as he sat beside you on the seat. You nodded and leaned against his shoulder. He put his arm around you to keep you warm. Once Seonghwa made sure you were secured with Yunho, he went off with the rest to get some food. Rest stop snacks was always good.

"Wakey wakey, jagiya. We got food." Seonghwa and Wooyoung put the tray of food down. Mingi and San were behind, carrying trays of more food for everyone.

"Drinks too." Jongho and Hongjoong came. You sat up, stretching your hands over your head.

"Here." Yeosang handed you a quarter of a fried potato. You smiled and blew on it before putting it in your mouth.

"Yummy." You let out little sounds of happiness. Using the same stick, you grabbed a rice cake from Seonghwa's bowl and ate it. Then you fed one to Yunho.

"Yunho hyung, I'll take over driving the second half so you can sleep." Jongho said as he chewed.

"Yeah, sure. Thanks." Yunho said before stealing a bite of Mingi's ramen, making the other tall male move the bowl away possessively.

After everyone finished eating, you all returned your trays. Then the group split up, some went to the drinks stand to get drinks for the road while the others went to get some more snacks to eat in the car. You stood in line with San on your arm.

"What are you getting?" Hongjoong leaned over to ask you. You squinted your eyes to look at the menu that was far away.

"Hwa won't let me have another coffee considering I drank most of what is in the cooler already... I think I'll have a strawberry basil cooler." You decided.

"Ooh, that sounds nice. Me too!" San raised his head from your shoulder and declared.

"Oh, Seonghwa wanted the mango yoghurt blend." You said, checking your phone to make sure you got Seonghwa's order right.

"Sure." Hongjoong stepped up to give all the orders to the counter person. She smiled sweetly at Hongjoong then her eyes trailed to San, who was still clinging onto you.

"You're both handsome." The girl complimented, eyes still cast on you, trying to get a reaction out of you.

"Thanks, Joong. We'll wait at the end. Come, Sannie." You walked to the end with San, not even acknowledging the girl at the counter. The girl's jaw dropped slightly at how you were nonchalant about it. You weren't possessive or 'bitchy' seeing another girl flirt with the guys that you were with.

"You're funny, (y/n). Seriously, you're like a black cat." Hongjoong laughed as he walked over to where you and San were waiting for the drinks. You felt San nod in agreement.

"What does that even mean?" You scoffed.

"That girl was trying to get a reaction out of you by flirting with us. And you didn't even blink twice." San explained.

"Oh... Well, she can flirt with you guys if she wants. Those things don't really bother me, I guess. Girls flirt with Yunho all the time, normal to me." You shrugged.

"As expected, very black cat of you to not be bothered." Hongjoong patted your shoulder.

"Still don't know what that means." You chuckled.

"It's okay, just know you and Yunho are like... match made in heaven." San smiled, patting your head. You sent him an odd look but rolled your eyes.

"This is everything." Hongjoong gave out your drinks to you and San. You carried Seonghwa's in your free hand so San opened the straw and stuck it into your drink for you. Once everything was secured, the 3 of you left to find the others.

"Here you go, Hwa." You handed Seonghwa his drink before separating back to your respective vans.

"Sit with Yunho hyung in the back, I'm good up front. Just no PDA or I might throw myself out of the moving vehicle." Jongho said to you as he moved his things to the passenger seat.

"That last part aside, are you sure? I can sit up front with you. Yunho's not 3." You chuckled.

"I'm sure." He squeezed your hand.

Of course, Yunho wouldn't try to convince you to sit in the passenger seat. He was ecstatic, the moment he laid his head in your lap, he was out like a light.

"Wow, don't think I've seen anyone fall asleep so quickly." You laughed softly, brushing Yunho's fringe.

"You know, Mingi and San were talking to me about our contracts. It's almost done. And they asked what our plans were." You spoke.

"Oh, right... I didn't even think about that but I guess it's almost up since it's been a year. Considering that, I haven't even thought about what to do after the contract ends." Jongho said, his voice not giving anything away. You let out a small hum, nodding your head slowly. You looked down at Yunho's face.

"You know Yunho hyung wouldn't want you to stay just because of him. You'll still have a great relationship whether you're working there or not. He would want you to go where you want to go." He added.

"Yeah, I know. He's too nice. But I don't know yet. What about you? Do you think you'll go up?" You asked back.

"Not sure. I'll go where you go." He shrugged.

"You guys always go where I go, turning down such great opportunities. Don't you wanna be a sous chef in a big kitchen?" You chuckled, still fiddling with Yunho's fringe.

"If I wanted to be a sous chef, I would have taken the title when you offered it to me." He pointed out.

"That's not what I'm referring too. Come on, you all can make a name for yourselves, not be like me, jumping from kitchen to kitchen."

"Sounds like you're letting your dad's words get to you... But anyway, the only reason we've broadened our skills and gained all this food knowledge under our belts is because we're moving from kitchen to kitchen with you. Which is good." Jongho replied.

"My heart wants to stay with Yunho and the others. My brain wants me to move on, find another kitchen to learn and grow in." You sighed, leaning against the door.

"Well, sit your brain and heart down at a table and make them work it out. Like a mediation." Jongho chuckled.

"Right. If only it were that easy." You laughed.

Finally, after a couple more hours of driving, all the vans pulled up to big beach house villa. You and the boys were in awe at how grand the place was.

"Okay, how are we splitting rooms? There are two rooms in the basement, two upstairs and one on this level." Yunho asked.

"(y/n)'ll get her own room, I'm assuming?" Wooyoung turned to you. Before Yunho could interject, you nodded.

"Well, if that's okay with all of you, I'll gladly take the room or I can room with Hwa." You asked the rest for their approval, who nodded their heads too.

"No, wait a minute. Stop, (y/n)'s not rooming on her own or with Seonghwa hyung. I'm rooming with (y/n). You guys can split the rest of the rooms and fight over who is bunking solo." Yunho corrected, speaking on your behalf. You crossed your arms, raising an eyebrow of amusement at him.

"Thanks, everyone. I'll take the room with the connected bathroom." You waved and grabbed your bags, going upstairs. Jongho helped you. Yunho's jaw dropped as you just left him there.

"This is going to be an eventful getaway for sure." You chuckled. Jongho nodded in agreement, laughing as he put your bag down.

"As long as I'm not caught in the middle of Seonghwa hyung, Wooyoung hyung and Yunho hyung fighting for your bed." He laughed, making you facepalm.

Secretly, you didn't mind the bickering. With everything that happened with your father, you were just happy to have all of them with you.

~

Series masterlist

[urhoneycombwitch]

On dad!Steve !! I would love if you could write something about him coming to terms with becoming a dad/pregnancy and labour/just first time dad!Steve in general makes me melt (especially if he's a girl dad 😔)

kay I’ll speak on it bc I have thoughts for SURE

cw: dad!steve, pregnant!R, light emetephobia ment, childbirth desc (no smut but my page is +18 only)

canon-wise, I feel like Steve’s only gotten smarter. obviously he’s still got a goofy himbo side. but he’s getting cleaner with fighting. sharper with his observations. lighter on his feet that’s only come with lots of protective practice.

but the part of him that really cares goes into overdrive after s4, in the canon I’m building in my head 😇 I think he might get a little obsessive about safety for awhile, in the wake of their heroic, underground-world-defeating victory. that kicks into high gear when he finds out you’re pregnant.

(see more of my to-be-named world building here)

for the first few months of your pregnancy he’s never been more grateful to be working in the same building as you. he takes every opportunity to to visit you at your library posting, between teaching his classes (under the pretense of grading papers. Professor Harrington can generally be found at a one-elbow lean on your front desk any time he isn’t in his office.)

he just loves you so much and wants to make sure you’re doing okay. he brings you ginger soda, the fancy brand you like- kept stocked in the staff fridge when your stomach is roiling with nausea, passed with an apologetic kiss to the back of your hand. 

bleeding heart Steve feels so bad he can’t take all the pain away, does his best to alleviate your new and growing discomforts. rubs your shoulders and puffy ankles down with lotion each night. gives up coffee in the mornings (even tho he used to RUN on caffeine) so you can kiss him without aversion 💖. he’s with you for every shaky night-sweat throw up session on the bathroom floor, kneeling to hold you hair back from getting sick in it. warm palm on your lower back in assurance and comfort. 

he calls it at 6 months. begs and cajoles and patiently argues (sweetheart, you’re wakin’ up so early with work. you should really rest, anyways- find a nice horizontal hobby to keep you off your feet. treat it like vacation 🫶) which turn into not so patient arguments (practically in your third trimester, goddammit, you want me to go crazy with worry? gonna have premature greys at this rate. let me keep you safe, angel, please. for my sake.) until finally you agree to take the damn maternity leave early.

and u know Steve’s reading all the books. how to be a good first-time dad. 101 lessons for the new parent. mother’s health and wellness magazines. childbirthing books. by the end of your third trimester, he’s gained enough knowledge to be an honorary midwife. could deliver the baby himself, if the situation really called for it. better to be prepared 🫡

and that spring , you’re both lounging on the couch. there’s a sunny spot under the big window, and you’re warming like cats, you feet propped in Steve’s lap. moon of a stomach peeking out from underneath a stolen one of Steve’s soft tees. his eyes are fixed on his library book on gentle parenting until you take a sharp inhale.

there’s a spasming band just under your navel that you press your hands into, and Steve pauses in rubbing absentminded at your ankle. looks up at you in concern and then at his watch and says “whoa, that’s like, 4 contractions in the last 5 minutes. are these for real or what?”

and you’re like “uhmmmm. don’t b mad but my water kind of broke this afternoon.”

and Steve looks at you with this very poorly concealed bewilderment that’s quickly morphing into shock and so you start talking before he can like “no no it’s chill. it’s cool!! 😎 doesn’t even hurt that bad and I knew you’d be home at 4 anyways….”

and you quiet when Steve rips his glasses off and pinches his nose between two fingers and says in a Very strangled voice “yeah. okay. well it’s 5 PM traffic right now which means rush hour which means we need to go to plan C right off the bat…”

and you watch this man unravel in the most efficient way possible. tugging at the roots of his hair until it stands overly-tall but managing to pack all your bags in the car in under 3 minutes. a record. and he gets to the hospital using all the mapped-out backroads so you’re there in a tight 15.

but as it turns out, a speedy arrival to the L&D ward of Hawkins Memorial wasn’t even necessary, because you spend the next 21 hours in the most intense, soul-crushing pain Steve’s ever seen you go thru in his life and it almost breaks him. for real. 

he’s so soft for you and no amount of reading about other people giving birth could have prepared him for the heartache and helplessness of seeing you ride the wave of a contraction. or go thru the brutal process of getting an epidural, your hands digging into his forearms hard enough to leave bruises as you leaned on him thru it all. 

and Steve did not know he could fall more in love w you but he does, the second you become a parent alongside him, wet and wriggling baby girl placed on your chest. spend two nights in the hospital healing up and fumbling through feedings and giggling over your new tiny daughter. counting her fingers and toes every time you unwrap her. cooing over those big brown eyes that look just like Steve’s.

and with his first baby, Steve is overprotective to the max. only Robin can babysit at first, and that’s only after she’s checked off a rigorous amount of reading material from Steve’s comprehensive required book list. he’s fussy about her routine (truly puts so much of the postnatal stress in himself so you can focus on bonding w/ your babe and resting), is fiercely protective over u and the new baby, like mama bear to the maxxx.

he’s actually GREAT at multitasking and the all consuming constant buzz of listening for certain types of crying and feedings and baby hand-offs thru the night really solidify the fact that he can do this. he’s already a million times better than his own parents at it, a fact of which you constantly remind and encourage him with. 

and I’ve said it before but I’ll say it again, best thing to ever happen to Steve Harrington is having a second kid bc it chills him way the hell out. for reasons chalked up simply to It's the way the world works, Steve falls into a natural rhythm w your second kid. finds his stride as they say. he’s just as excited and caretaking and protective during your second pregnancy as with your first, but this time without all of the panic and wire-thin nerves. coasts thru calmly.

perhaps a touch too calm, because when you go into labor with your second kid, it’s the middle of a snowstorm in Hawkins, and since u and Steve went thru such a long hard birth with your eldest, you both take your sweet time getting ready to go. saying goodbye to your 3 year-old while aunt Robin comes to stay. even stopping for a snack on the way to the hospital because last time they didn’t let you eat and you were fucking ravenous the whole time.

but then Steve has to drive so slow and safe bc of the snowy roads and you’re still a good 20 mins out when things progress so rapidly and so unlike the first time around; Steve is so level-headed and  lets you crush all the bones in his right hand while he drives with his left, coaching you through breathing exercises, trying to keep calm but oh shit, you’re making the same sounds you made three years ago when you brought your first baby into the world, all low groans and gritted teeth and Steve’s pleading with you to hold on, just a few more minutes as he coasts into the emergency bay of L&D. doesn’t give a fuck about parking in a tow zone, they can take the damn car, Steve’s already launching himself out of the drivers seat to scoop you up and hike it indoors. 

in the nick of time. 10 minutes and a few pushes later and your second baby is there, all scrunched and tiny, so much smaller than her sister, got the slope of your nose and Steve’s pretty cupids bow. she arrived so fast it feels like a joke, you and Steve cuddling a bit cramped (the way you all like it) in the hospital bed, laughing a little, marveling at the fact that you’re a family of four now, how different it’s all been the second time around. how neither of you realized how much your hearts could expand to engulf your two kids with so much love, it feels like you’re both bursting at the seams 💖

[glitterjay]

I need popular heeseung and unpopular y/n who has a crush on him but gets rejected when she tries and confesses but later on gets drunk and ends up in his bed

⭒ popular!heeseung, unpopular!reader, rejection, mention of alcohol / getting drunk, they dont fuck!!

⭒ c's note: it would hurt my following lives if heeseung rejected me

⭒ taglist: @hollyoongs @moon7jay @wondipity @fertilizedtoesw @kwiwin @kissestoenha

lee heeseung, the captain of the basketball team and the man who has been your crush for as long as you can remember, was hosting a party this upcoming weekend to celebrate the team making it to nationals.

of course, the whole institute was invited because he's popular like that, and he knew his friends would want to invite others anyway.

your very own friends have been encouraging you for the past year to finally confess your feelings to heeseung. it wasn't that hard to talk to him at all. he wasn't a jerk type of popular.

"you won't know what could happen if you never try. what if he likes you back?" one of your friends said.

"and what if he rejects me?"

"then you'll be able to finally move on!"

you shook your head, still unsure. you always think you're ready to tell him how you feel, but you can't help but think that to him, you're just another girl who finds him attractive.

and you were right. you grew tired of your circle pestering you to go talk to him, saying how you could even have a chance to hook up with heeseung at the party. so you gathered the courage to approach him during your study hall while he was switching classes.

"heeseung, you've got a second?" you called.

he waved his friends off, shooting a kind smile that always melted you on the spot. "for sure! got questions about the party?"

you balanced on your heels, your hands playing with the hem of your shirt as you prepared yourself mentally.

"look, i know this is crazy and sudden," you started. "but i've liked you for quite some time now. i know you don't even know who i am; i'm just a phantom or whatever, but i just wanted you to know."

his smile never left his face, which was actually making you more nervous. he let out a giggle and ruffled your hair. "i appreciate it, really. there's no day where i don't get something like this told to me, so it's not sudden at all. i'm sorry i can't tell you my feelings, but what i can tell you is that i do know who you are. i've seen you a few times hanging out by the bleachers, and you were in my english class last semester! at least you aren't like those girls who are always on top of my ass." he shivered.

the entire world fell on your shoulders. it's true that you were expecting a rejection, but him actually knowing you left a bittersweet taste in your mouth.

"regardless of what just happened, make sure to have fun, mkay? see you at the party?"

"yeah, see you at the party..."

-

"i dont want to go!"

"but you told heeseung you'd see him there!"

"and!?"

your friend was trying to get you out of bed, desperately throwing things at you—which you were dodging by being under the covers—so you could start getting ready.

"i don't want to humiliate myself like that."

"it'll be more humiliating if you stay here like a loser. c'mon!"

"ugh, fine!"

it took you about an hour to get ready, considering you had been crying since the encounter with the boy.

once ready, you and your friends headed straight to the party's location. to be honest, you did not want to see heeseung at all, but you deserved to have fun after getting rejected.

but it was not your day at all. you saw him, everywhere. every time you wanted a mew drink, on the dance floor, with his friends, he was in every corner you looked at.

this made you get drunk quite fast, drinking bottle after bottle to help you distract yourself from the thoughts flooding your mind.

-

later through the night, your friends scattered all over the place. you could feel your head spinning, and you wanted to go home.

you got up from where you were sitting, holding on to anything you could as to not fall.

the amount of people was making it even harder to walk, and in the blink of an eye, you bumped into someone. when you looked up, you saw no other than lee heeseung himself holding on to your waist.

you weren't going to lie, he looked hot. maybe it was the alcohol in your system, but you felt like you could kiss him right there.

"are you okay?"

you didnt answer. you kept staring right at his face. his hair slicked back made his face features a lot more noticeable. he should start styling his hair that way more often.

heeseung dragged you with him to his room. it was the safest place he could think of since it was locked and only he had he key.

he sat you down on his bed and gave you a water bottle he had on his nightstand.

the water was able to sober you up a bit, and now you were aware of your surroundings. still, you had the urge to kiss heeseung's gorgeous face, something you would not think of if you were in your right mind.

"hey, heeseung?"

"hmm?"

"can i kiss you?"

"only if you sober up."

© glitterjay | tumblr

[canthelpit0]

Heartless

Pairing: Chris x reader

Wordcount: 3k+

Summary: Chris used to drink back in high school. And now being rich and in his early 20s he started back up again.

Warnings: angst (if u squint), relapse, drinking, alcohol addiction, weed, mentioned drugs, slight use of y/n, Chris pov, (slight) unreliable narrator, model!reader, no smut, kissing

(A/N: possible ooc. I don’t do drugs, so I don’t know how realistic this is.)

Chris PoV

I feel dizzy.

But I love it, I love this.

I take another sip of my solo cup looking at all the people.

Back in high school I used to drink and smoke, and I even did some drugs at some point. But I had stopped after high school, after all, I thought that I could let loose and have fun, but that after high school that I’d start working.

Having been partying and drinking for my junior and senior year, staying sober for over two days was hard, but in the end I’d managed to stay sober for a whole year.

I wasn’t even the legal age to drink yet anyway.

I started smoking occasionally though, just to hold me off from alcohol.

Somehow we managed to become famous YouTubers, moving out to LA and living our dreams.

But being in LA meant getting invited to all sorts of parties. We usually just said no and that we wouldn’t go, mainly because of my past habits. But after a while our manager started to force us to, to make connections.

However being so close to alcohol, and being offered drinks and blunts all the time was fucking with me.

I started to smoke more, going from around one cigarette every two days to five a day.

It was a common fact that I’m a smoker in our fanbase. And I wasn’t proud of it. It is disgusting. But I would rather do that, before relapse back into my drinking habits. That’s at least what I told myself.

I started to unconsciously get colder towards Nick and Matt. I couldn’t help it.

So when an influencer texted me inviting me to some party, I agreed. I snuck out of the house at night, walked around the corner to the gas station, got an Uber and went to the party.

I put my phone on silent, turned off all trackers and snap map, as well as put it on airplane mode just to be sure.

But deep down I always knew that at the end of the day, if I do manage to get home without Matt’s help, I’ll still be drunk, they’ll know I relapsed.

But at this moment, it doesn’t matter. All that matters is getting drunk tonight.

This is the second drink I’ve had tonight. And I wasn’t even close to tipsy. Maybe I should play some drinking game?

I shrug to myself scanning the crowd of people. All people with faces that look like influencers. If that even makes sense. They just look like they do TikTok.

I shrug to myself. I glance over at the window to the backyard porch, seeing the backs of a few girls sitting there. I can’t see their faces and I don’t care to.

I look down at my drink, seeing the way it’s half empty now. I huff. Bringing the cup back to my lips again, I down the whole cup.

Jake and Johnnie come up to me. I make eye contact with Jake and purse my lips.

It’s a commonly known fact that I smoke tobacco, yes. But to everyone’s knowledge I don’t drink, and have never touched a drink In My life.

Well Matt and Nick haven’t, I never said I haven’t, but I wasn’t exactly open about my past with alcohol either.

Matt and Nick said they’ve never drank, wich is true. Yet I never agreed. I did say on that podcast that I do smoke.

“Yo Chris” Jake greets dapping me up. I give him a weak smile. “Hi guys” I respond with a slight smile.

I wish I didn’t know anyone here and could just get wasted in peace. I’d get wasted at home but I literally can’t buy alcohol

“I didn’t know you drink?” Johnnie asks taking a sip of a water bottle. I don’t know if they drink, all I know is that they’re old enough to. Unlike me.

“Well.” I shrug. I’m still standing in the kitchen so I just put down my empty solo cup for the time being.

“Aren’t you underage tho?” Jake asks raising an eyebrow down at me. He shifts on his feet. He wouldn’t stop me per se, he’d just quietly disapprove.

“Yeah” I shrug. I lick my lips glancing at the half empty beer bottle on the counter. I purse my lips contemplating if I should pour my solo cup full again.

Because on one hand I want to make it seem like this is the first time I’m drinking and that I’m innocent, but then again the temptation is too strong, and before I realize it I’m pouring my cup full again.

Both the boys in front of me were saying something about not drinking too much, but I wasn’t even paying it attention.

“-Just don’t drink too much, right, you can get drunk really fast.” Jake rambles on a smile present on his lips like he thought this was an innocent joke. Not like I just relapsed or anything.

I take a sip from the beer, feeling it burn down my throat. I don’t even make a face at it, if anything I relax more when the taste hits my tongue.

“You handle your alcohol well, wow.” Jake says half joking, having finally stopped his rant.

“Anyway, where are Nick and Matt?” Johnnie asks cutting Jake off before he can start yapping again.

“Home.” I mumble taking another sip.

“Oh why’s that?” He asks back his words questioning as he tilts his head slightly.

His eyes look really dark with the dark eyeliner he’s wearing, in the dimmed room.

“They just didn’t want to come.” I shrug. I feel like I’m being too direct and rude.

It’s funny. Whenever I’m sober, I act more cheery and extroverted. But I don’t feel good. When I’m drunk or drinking it’s the opposite.

“Huh?” Jake huffs questioningly. “Well this is the first time you’re drinking right? Were you planning to, or how did that happen?”

I think he thought that maybe some person gave a drink to me and that’s how I started drinking tonight. Because god forbid I wanted to get drunk and was planning on drinking here because shady parties like this are the only places I can get my hands on alcohol.

“No,” I pause making eye contact with both of them, before my eyes meet the beer in my cup again.

“It’s not.” I shrug.

They glance at each other before looking back at me and I feel their eyes burn through my skin.

“Well, drink responsibly.” Jake says again slowly. He wasn’t going to stop me. They were all for ‘you do you’. And besides it’s not that bad anyway it’s not like I’m alcoholic or something. “And don’t drive.” He chuckled jokingly, winking.

I let a slight smile take over my face. I close my eyes and shake my head slightly, letting out a dry chuckle.

Johnnie waves back at me as they start to walk off into the crowd of people in the living room.

Time flies.

I drink some more, wander around and what not.

I’ve taken a bunch of drugs before. Asides from the obvious like coffee, cigarettes and alcohol, I also used to smoke a lot of weed. I’ve done lsd, cocaine, ecstasy. A lot of ecstasy. And Xanax.

Well I took Xanax kind of on accident in sophomore year. Matt has anxiety, and it used to be really bad so he had prescribed pills to take. And one day I thought they were pain killers and took them.

It made me feel very euphoric but calm and relaxed at the same time. That was the first big deal drug I ever took.

I was never interested in not being sober. But when junior year hit, and I started to go to parties, I tried verity’s kinds of drugs because if the high Xanax put me on was great, how would stronger drugs be.

Tho at the end of the day I did that way less than just drinking.

I look around getting bored of just standing around. I walk out to the backyard porch to get some air. There is a couch in the corner on both sides.

What’s wired about these types of parties is that there are not just influences or that type of people here, but also low ranking celebrities.

Like actors and actresses with low status, up in coming singers, low ranking models and what not.

There is a girl all alone on the couch to my right. I glance at her, scanning her features. Our eyes meet. I’m not as drunk as I was planning to be, but the night is still young so whatever.

She looks like she could be a model. But for all I know she could be a really pretty YouTuber too.

She takes the blunt from between her lips breathing out a puff of the toxic smoke. She was smiling rolled in a perfect blunt.

“Hi?” She asks. Have I been staring? I purse my lips staring back at her. I kind of forget to respond before I see her raise an eyebrow at me.

“Hey.” I respond simply shifting on my feet to turn to face her. She nods to the couch next to her and I take the hint and sit down next to her.

I take a deep breath in, closing my eyes slightly. The cold LA air feels so good against my burning hot skin.

“You smoke?” She asks offeringthe blunt to me.

I lick my lips slightly. She seems pretty faded, she must’ve been smoking for a while here now.

I look over her features,my eyes taking in every detail.

I him in response, watching the way she holds out the blunt for me. I take it and put it between my lips. As soon as I feel the weed fill up my lungs I can feel my body relax.

I slump back into the couch giving her the blunt back while I breathe out the smoke.

“What’s your name?” She asks putting the blunt back between her lips and smoking it.

“Chris.” I say simply. She hands me the blunt once again. And oh, I didn’t realize we’d be sharing now, but oh well.

“You look like a YouTuber.” She says bluntly, tilting her head at me.

We get that a lot, we look like ‘generic tiktokers’.

I shrug. I turn my face to the side and blow out the smoke before looking back at her and offering her the blunt again. “Maybe because I am?”

She chuckles dryly and takes the blunt. She puts it between her plump pink lips. “I’m y/n” she mumbles around the weed before inhaling again. I watch the way she holds the blunt between her pointer and middle finger.

The way her hands look so delicate. The way her acrylic nails look.

“And what do you do for a living?” I ask rhetorically. A slight grin threatens to spread on my face.

“I model.”

“Never thought models smoke?”

“Well I do.”

She offers me the blunt again.

We talk for even longer. We both seem to be blunt and direct people. there was no messing around and beating around the bush.

After a while silence falls upon us again. This is the second blunt we’d lit by this point. She leans over and puts that blunt out on the ashtray on the couch table.

“You’re pretty you know that.” I blurt out. She sits back raising an eyebrow. Her body is turned to me and she just looks so pretty. If I could have my way and we weren’t at some LA house party right now, I’d eat her out right here on the backyard porch.

“Thank you?” She chuckles. And god how good she sounds.

Her words sound like silk. They flow so well together and her voice 100% fits her face.

While we were talking she said she’s from New York. Wich is great. I love meeting east coast people. There are not a lot in California.

She’s apparently from manhattan. I’d been there before.

She turns to me more and tilts her head teasingly. I lean in my eyes staying locked on hers.

I can’t help the huge grin growing on my face.

“Yeah” I breathe out. By now we’re so painfully close. I put my hand on her jaw holding her in place. I can’t help it when I glance down at her lips for a second.

She does the same tho and looks down at my lips.

So why would I draw out this moment any longer? I crash my lips on hers and feel her immediately react and kiss back.

The kiss is gentle but hard at the same time.

By this point I can barely feel the alcohol in my system, only the weed. And with us kissing that’s all I’m focused on. I can’t think straight, and not because I’m cross faded.

My eyes are shut trying to feel this as much as I can. This feels like a high. Whether that be because I am actually high, or if kissing her just naturally feels good.

I tilt my head slightly in an effort to deepen the kiss, feeling the way her arms wrap around my neck and pull me closer.

My hands go to her waist holding onto her.

But suddenly, before things can escalate, I feel my phone ring.

I pull away slightly our faces still close. I groan in Annoyance. I lick my swollen lips glancing back down at y/n’s that are also plump and kiss swollen.

I pull out my phone from my back pocked seeing Matt’s caller ID.

I purse my lips and hang up the call. I crash my lips back onto y/n’s. She sighs into the kiss and kisses back just as intensely.

But my phone goes off again. We ignore it just continuing to make out.

That is until she pulls away and licks her lips. Our eyes lock again, silence falling upon us, until she breaks it.

“Whoever is calling you really wants to talk.” I purse my lips looking at my phone on the couch between us.

I pick it up with a sigh. I sit back and turn back forward. I pick up the call and it’s Nick.

“Christopher Owen.” I hear nicks pissed off firm voice through the other line.

“Turn your location on right the fuck now.”

I sigh. I take the phone from my face turning off airplane mode and turning my location back on. After I do that I put the phone back to my ear.

“We’ll be there in 5” I hear Matt say loudly. He sounds mildly pissed off too.

“Whatever.” I groan dramatically. Why do they always have to hold me off from having fun.

I was just drinking a little bit. Like I didn’t even get drunk yet.

“Go to the front door, we’re almost there.” Nick says firmly to wich I reluctantly hum an argument.

I hang up the phone after it’s silent. I roll my eyes. I let my hand drop from my face to my lap, still holding my phone. I look over at y/n who is looking at me with a curious expression, but she wasn’t going to push it.

“I gotta go.” I say simply and get up.

I don’t glance back before i open the door inside again. I walk through the crowd of people pushing my way to the front door.

★ ★ ★

I sit at the front porch steps waiting for Matt to pull up.

When he pulls up mere seconds later Nick gets out of the passenger seat walking over to me. He looks more worried than angry.

I reluctantly get up. Nick keeps holding my arm just in case, but I really wasn’t that drunk. Sure I was not walking too straight, but it wasn’t like I was at risk of falling over.

He sits me down in the passenger seat Matt watching.

Nick himself gets into the backseat.

No word is said. Matt pulls into drive and starts to drive down the road. I close my eyes awaiting the eventual questioning and rants and whatever.

“Why’d you relapse?” Matt ask, simply getting straight to the point. Ripping the band aid right off.

“Sorry” I mumble. I open my eyes and turn my head to stare out of the window.

No song is playing, it’s just eerily quiet.

“No. Why did you relapse?” Nick asks his tone more firm. “Yeah you were doing so good” Matt adds with a sigh.

I let out my own sigh at the questions.

I don’t know why I relapsed.

It’s just something about LA that is so tempting. Partying is fun, and so is being drunk.

I’m pretty sure Jake and Johnnie must’ve told them. Somehow. After all, at this party, they were the only ones I actually knew. They must’ve texted or called one of them for some reason, resulting in waking them up.

And as soon as they were awake and checked my bed, they started to call me. Makes sense, whatever.

“Chris, you know, you need to talk.” Nick sighs frustrated.

“Why did you relapse?” Matt asks again glancing over at me for a second before going right back to staring at the road. “Is it the temptations of LA, is it your mental health,” he lists off the top of his head before sighing again. “What is it?”

“Chris we need you to tell us the root cause of this.” Nick says firmly. Honestly i should play drunk and pretend I don’t understand what they want from me, but I think they can tell I’m not legit drunk, just because of the fact that they’ve seen me actually blackout drunk before.

“I don’t know.” I say simply my tone staying low. It feels like my words cut straight through the thick tension in the room.

It’s like a re-opened wound.

“What do you mean you don’t know.” Nick scoffs. He was getting worked up, and I know that. I close my eyes for a second bracing myself.

“We thought you were better.”

We- it wasn’t just Nick that thought I got better, but also Matt, mom, dad and Justin.

“I did too.”

Masterlist

A/N: I hope you guys liked this.. I hope it’s realistic enough. But yeah, this was fun to write, tho I do know that it did kind of drift from the actual theme of the song. Tell me if u guys want a part 2 and my asks and requests are open <3

‼️please don’t copy my work/idea‼️

Taglist: @muwapsturniolo , @sturnad , @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 , @evie-sturns , @me09love , @fratbrochrisgf , @spideylovin , @chrissgirlsstuff , @stunza , @whicked-hazlatwhore , @sturniooolos , @ecliphttlunar , @orangeypepsi , @klaus223492 , @char112244 , @sst7niolo , @slut4chriss , @mattsturniololoverr , @th3-3d3n-g4rd3n , @st7rnioioss , @t1llysblogs , @nonat-111 , @blahbel668 , @rockstarchr1s , @sturnsintrouble , @nayveetbhh , @tillies33ssss , @sturncakez , @strnilo , @somegirlfromasgard , @mattslovelygf , @sturnsmaeve , @sturnstvr , @lucianastrun , @jnkvivi , @jamiesturniolo

[icarryitin]

Workplace Hot

spencer reid/gn!reader

look i don’t know what this is or where it came from, all i know is one day i woke up normal and then by the end of it i had started CM from the beginning and fallen in love w this man

word count: 1.2k//warnings: literally zero, just vibes

Things never go smoothly, do they?

Never quite to plan, there’s always something missing from the final draft, or something unexpected lurking in the background of the big picture.

This surprise comes gift wrapped just for you, in stupidly attractive, nerdy, beanpole patterned paper.

The first time you lamented about your unfortunate crush on Dr Spencer Reid had been over mojitos at your favourite little hole-in-the-wall bar. Sitting at the raised table with the remainder of your girl group from college, staring dismally at the bottom of your glass, they’d tried to convince you he was just Workplace Hot. Proximity Hot. Work crushes are commonplace as anything, they come just as quickly as they go. God, you wish they’d been right.

You’d tried to convince yourself of it, anyway, and that worked for a little while. You were happy enough to sit at your desk, the man in question mirroring your position somewhere on your right, five days a week. You could do your paperwork in his general vicinity and not feel like you were about to catch fire every time he leaned over the aisle to pinch a file from your stack. And then, there was The Incident.

The Incident - named for the absolute havoc wrought on your nerves until the early hours of a Sunday morning in May. Uncoordinated nights out though they had been, with your own friends out celebrating a birthday and his little group with their own agenda for the evening, it would have been rude not to wave across the bar at him. The rest of them had been too far gone already but one of your friends noticed your shy grin, arguably your best - friendship forged in the fire of back to back forensic psychology classes would be hard pressed to die. She noticed, because of course she did. So you’d told her, because of course she’d have worked it out. And then, to your horror, she’d walked right over to him. Because of course she would. She’d wandered back over to your group only a few minutes later, a solemn look on her face under the dulled bar lights.

“Do you get what I mean?”

“Oh, I get it, my condolences.”

You had been doomed from the start - cursed, bewitched. Lulled into a false sense of security via cardigans and wide eyes and odd socks until you find yourself here. Six months into your new job, and six months into an embarrassingly cumbersome crush on the good doctor.

Which probably would have been fine if either one of you stayed behind at Quantico regularly, but you don’t. Instead, you’re burdened by six months worth of knowledge of all his little quirks thanks to case after case after case.

You know he’ll commandeer the couch on the jet when he can, because he likes to stretch out when he naps. You know exactly how much sugar he takes in his coffee, too much - you feel mildly nauseous every time you make him a cup, but you still make it. You know that he chews on the inside of his lip when he’s thinking particularly hard about something, just as well as you know he doesn’t even realise he’s doing it. And sure, it’s not just him, you’ve learned these silly little things about every member of the BAU team. But Reid’s just seem clearer to you. More significant. You’re a little more self conscious when you find yourself looking at him. Even in conversation, even if he’s looking to you for an observation about the Unsub. You can’t hold his eye for very long.

He knows, you’re sure of it.

There’s a rule - don’t profile the team. The golden rule. The golden rule that gets broken bout fifty times a day.

Spencer likes the rule, even if he doesn’t always respect it. Sometimes it needs a little disrespecting, he thinks so anyway. Sometimes his colleagues, his teammates, his friends - they need somebody to prod them a little, letting people in goes against every fibre of a behavioural analyst’s being. But trust has to be built somehow.

He’s about this close to cracking you.

Which hasn’t been easy by any stretch of the word. You’d held him at arm’s length for much longer than the others, and at first he’d thought he annoyed you. It made sense enough, he’s been called annoying enough times in his life to know he definitely can be, and the way you’ve never really been able to look him in the eye would suggest you don’t want to get into the situation where he could be. He tries his best not to ramble at you, even now, just in case. Though that initial ice has long since melted.

You’re a lot more open with him now, even if there’s still parts he has to chip away at thick stone walls to get to. Silly things, that not everyone would care to know about their co-workers, but Spencer absolutely needs to know about you.

Which is where the stakeout game comes in.

It’s silly, really. Twenty questions - who plays twenty questions as a grown adult? FBI agents who desperately want to get to know other FBI agents whilst they’re stuck in the confines of an SUV’s backseat for hours on end. That’s who.

Derek and Emily sit up front, watching the quiet street, the way they’re supposed to be - as Spencer desperately tries to guess your favourite movie. He’s narrowed it down to two in his mind, in only three questions. The traditional rules of the game had gotten boring after the first few cases, you’d laughed and told him that he’s too good at guessing. He’d told you that you’re just not asking the right questions on your turns. You’re watching him carefully in the dark now, the way you’re meant to be watching the Unsub’s house. You don’t make eye contact but you’re studying his face all the same, he wishes you would. He’s become a little too dependent on the way his heart seizes when you allow him that kind of vulnerability.

He doesn’t have time to pick a film or ask another question anyway, because the Unsub is flying out the back door of the house, he’s jumping out of the SUV with everybody else, and the Unsub is surrounded. Thanks to your work, your observation being the final piece of the puzzle that had clicked everything else into place.

You’re chatting to a local officer when Spencer calls out the title of your favourite movie across the street. His guess, twenty questions completed in just three. How very Spencer Reid of him.

He’s right - obviously. He doesn’t need to watch the way your head drops and your shoulders shake with a giggle, interrupting your conversation to turn to him. But he watches all the same, he always does.

Your eyes sparkle in the dark when you look back over your shoulder, finally catching his under the orange haze of the streetlights, and sending a kaleidoscope of butterflies surging in the pit of his stomach. Paper thin wings clog up his throat, spindly legs tickle his lungs.

Work crushes are commonplace - but this one might just be the death of him.

[prettyfastcars]

'til I touch, touch, touch you | Mob!Lewis

Summary: Lewis finds out that you have a thing for his hands. 

Themes: explicit language, smut, fluff, praise kink, daddy kink

“Why are you sitting so far?” 

He dared ask, looking at you like he didn’t know what he was doing to you. Manspreading on the other side of the couch, sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his elbows revealing his tattoos, all the buttons of his shirt were undone so you could see his muscular, tattooed chest clearly, and his braids tied neatly at the back. 

He looked confused as to why you put all that distance between you and him on the large couch. If you sat any closer, you’d end up getting on his lap and beg him to fuck you till the morning. And he’d been working late these past few days, he looked a little tired. He deserved a little rest, you thought. 

But fuck. Those soft eyes he made at you weren’t helping. And his damn hands. One holding a whiskey glass, and the other extended towards you. You tried your hardest to look away from them. Tattoos all over his fingers, and all his rings… you took a deep breath and said, “It’s comfy here.” 

He frowned at you and tried again, “Babygirl,” He spoke in that irresistible voice of his, “Come sit with daddy, I missed you all day.” 

Ah, screw it. You gave up resisting and crawled to him until you settled right beside him, throwing your legs over his lap and leaned into the warmth of his bare chest. You couldn’t help but lean down and kiss his warm skin, right above the compass tattoo. 

“I missed you too.” You murmured, letting your lips brush over his skin. Then you nearly groaned when he brought his hand over to caress your exposed thigh. As if just looking at them weren’t torture enough, now he was gliding those slightly rough, tattooed fingers all over your skin. 

You nearly stopped breathing altogether when his fingers began getting closer and closer to your inner thighs. Your little satin PJ set wasn’t hiding much of your body anyway. 

“How was your day?” He asked, keeping an eye on what was playing on the TV while his hand mindlessly caressing your thigh. 

You couldn’t look away. Those hands had been your fixation for a while now. “Uh,” You struggled to respond, “It was fine. I did, you know, stuff.” 

Damn him. His hand slowly inched even further up your thigh, stopping you from even thinking coherently. 

“Hmm. What else?” 

You opened your mouth to answer but his fingers teased your upper thigh and you couldn’t help but groan. Leaning more into his touch as you hid your face into the crook of his neck. He smelled delicious and you groaned even louder. 

Lewis chuckled. “You think I haven’t noticed you’ve been staring at my hands?” You refused to look him in the eyes so he continued. “You’ve been doing it a lot lately, haven’t you? What is it? They turn you on?” 

You whined, trying to close your legs but he tightened his grip on your thigh and you couldn’t move. 

“You like my hands?” He teased, placing his glass down and bringing his other hand to cup your face. 

You finally pulled away from his neck so you could look up at him, and nodded shyly. 

“Yeah?” He chuckled. “Where do you want them?” 

You mumbled something but it was neither coherent nor audible. 

Lewis brough his thumb over to your mouth, tracing the shape of your lips as he said, “Louder baby, use your words. Where do you want daddy’s hands?”

“All over me.” 

His pretty brown eyes stared deep into yours as he smirked. “Come here,” He said, pulling you onto his lap. 

You straddled him like you had the habit of doing and waited, and watched how his hands went back to your thighs, inching higher and higher up your leg, caressing your inner thighs. He smirked when you moaned and kept going. Sliding those gorgeous, tattooed hands all over your soft skin. The cold metal of his rings made you shiver. 

His hands had done terrible things given the nature of his job. He had hurt, maimed, pulled so many triggers, ended lives even, but they were so gentle with you. So careful. 

He leaned in to kiss your jaw and down your neck, his stubbled brushing against your skin gently. His lips warm and soft as they brushed all over your skin. His knuckles brushed against the front of the flimsy PJ shorts you were wearing. 

He whispered, with his lips hovering over the corner of your mouth. “I can feel how wet you are, baby.” He slipped his hand past the waistband, into your thin underwear and touched you gently. His fingers circled around your clit, before he pushed a finger in, then another and started gently moving them in and out of you. “Is this what you wanted? Hmm?” 

He placed his thumb on your throbbing clit and brushed it occasionally while he finger-fucked you, your wetness dripping and smearing all over his hand. You threw your head back and moaned when his fingers touched you in all the right places, curling just right and massaging your sensitive spots perfectly.

His other hand gently wrapped around your neck, not squeezing yet but just holding you firmly. You got just a little louder as he sped up, his fingers slipping in and out of you with ease. 

“Look down,” He said, “Look how well you’re taking daddy’s fingers.” 

You did. And fuck if it didn’t make you whine and moan even louder. 

And seeing you were whining and whimpering already, he decided to torture you more by moving his hand from your throat, “Open up, baby.” He whispered, pushing two fingers past your lips and into your mouth and slowly pumped those two as well. 

Your lips immediately wrapped around his fingers. And he smirked at the sight of you, with two of his fingers buried in your wet core, slipping in and out of you rapidly while his other two fingers were buried into your warm mouth. His rings clinked against your teeth as he did. 

“Do they feel good?” 

You nodded desperately, clenching around his fingers. 

The sounds you made alone were enough to make his pants feel tighter, and make him want to tease you even more. “Yeah? You like being completely stuffed, don’t you? Look at you, look how well you take it. Daddy’s perfect little slut, hmm?” 

Your muffled moans, the way his hands moved against your skin, his fingers in your mouth, in your cunt… it was all too much. Soon you had tears streaming down your face. 

He removed his fingers from your mouth and wrapped his hand around your throat again, squeezing just a little as he brought your face closer to his. His breath was just as ragged as yours, his lips inches away from yours. “Are you gonna come, baby? You’re gonna come for daddy?” 

You nodded, moaning when he sped up again, his fingers stroking your walls perfectly and increasing the sweet, almost agonizing pressure forming in between your hips. 

You rolled your hips against his hand in a haze, chasing your orgasm, moaning and whimpering. “Come for me, babygirl.” He encouraged you and tightened his grip around your throat just a little bit more.

And you couldn’t hold it anymore, you let the familiar waves of pleasure wash over you as you came all over his fingers, crying out loud in pleasure. Gushing out all over his hand as he kept pumping his fingers in and out of you, getting everything he could out of you. He finally pressed his lips to yours and kissed you hard. 

You couldn’t keep your hands to yourself then. You hurried to unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants, lowering the waistband of his underwear to free his erected cock. The mere sight of his perfect cock had you whimpering with need again.

You got off his lap and dropped to kneel in between his legs immediately. You reached out and wrapped your hands around his base and placed your mouth on his cock immediately, your tongue slowly circling his tip. He groaned and spread his legs further apart, inching his hips slightly forward as you took more of him into your mouth.

He sighed as he leaned back and grabbed his glass of whiskey again and sipped on it as he watched you suck his cock, bobbing your head around him just like how he liked it. You took him inch by inch until he filled your mouth completely. 

“Fuck, baby…” He swore under his breath again as you hollowed your cheeks and took him deeper into your mouth. “You feel so fucking good.” His praise gave you a rush.

You wanted more. You took most of his cock into your mouth and repeated your actions again and again. 

He moaned and growled occasionally. He bucked his hips forward very gently into your mouth, and loved the sight of your spit coating his cock. You looked magnificent on your knees, taking him perfectly. You always did. 

You took him out of your mouth and teased him a little bit, licking his cock from bottom to top while your hands toyed with his balls as you gently stroked him. His taste and scent was all you could focus on. 

He swore under his breath at your teasing, as you dragged your tongue over the slit on this tip lazily. He looked down at you with a warning in his pretty brown eyes, his glass of whiskey just an inch or two from his plump lips. “Don’t tease me, babygirl.” He spoke, his voice carrying nothing but authority and lust. 

So you got back to it while looking him in the eye. You took him back into your mouth and sucked on his cock until he was so close to coming undone all over your tongue, groaning and grunting in pleasure. You sped up your actions because you liked the sounds which left his lips while he was right on the edge.

“Fuck… slow down, babygirl.” He moaned, breathlessly as he came into your mouth. His thigh muscles tensing and his hips thrusting gently up into your mouth.

You swallowed all that he gave you and you licked him clean before climbing onto his lap again. This time after taking your clothes off. 

“You’re such a good girl for daddy, you know that?” He said, after catching his breath for a second or two. Hands reaching up to cup your face. “You want more?” 

You nodded again, licking your lips for any remnant taste of him. Lewis smirked and pushed you back down on the couch before he slid inside of you again, effortlessly. And the two of you moaned in unison as he filled you up again, your walls already gripping him tightly as your back arched off the couch. 

“Fuck…” You whimpered. 

His one hand wrapped around your throat while the other held on to your hip, keeping you in place. You felt his cock stretching you, filling you up. Every inch of him sliding into your tight cunt. You could feel your eyes tearing up at how snug he felt inside you. And his hand around your throat… fuck. 

He held your stare as he reached down to grab your legs and wrapped them around his waist. He looked down to where your bodies connected, quickly spitting right on your clit, his thumb spreading the wetness around as he leaned down to give you a messy kiss, swallowing your desperate moan in the process.

“Please,” You mumbled against his mouth. You couldn’t help your loud moans which followed as he moved his hips the slightest bit. His cock moving in and out of you. 

“Please what, babygirl?” Lewis pulled away and watched you as you whined at the feeling of his cock slowly moving in and out of you.

“Fuck me, please.” You whimpered, then felt your walls clenching around him as he finally sped up and pounded into you. You felt all of him stretching you, filling you up, moving rapidly in and out of you until he was all you could focus on. 

“You feel so fucking good…” He whispered, pounding into you relentlessly as he bent down to bite your lower lip and tug on it. “So perfect for daddy.” 

You moaned at how perfect his hard, muscular, tattooed chest felt against yours, his weight pressing down on you. His slight stubble tickled your skin as he moved. His soft lips brushing against your skin as he kissed you everywhere he could. 

Your legs trembled as you wrapped them tighter around his waist. His thrusts, relentless and unbearably good. The pressure around your lower body, tight and hot.

Lewis looked down at you as you tightened around his cock. He smirked, looking down to where his cock disappeared into you each time he thrust in. “Look at me, babygirl.” When you did, he whispered, “Daddy loves you. So much. You understand?” 

You nodded. The possessiveness in his voice only made you clench around him again. 

He gave you a lazy smile, “Then be a good girl and come for daddy.” His hand squeezed your throat, making you moan even louder. He leaned in, giving you a messy kiss. “Come all over my cock, baby. Come on.” 

You whimpered, unable to say anything because of how good he felt sliding in and out of you. The familiar pressure formed at your core yet again and you whined when his hand let go of your throat and his fingers found your clit, toying with it while he pounded into you mercilessly.

Lewis loved that look on your face, that look of utter bliss, pain, pleasure, lust and hunger all at once. “That’s it, babygirl. You’re taking me so well, look at you. Now come, come all over me,” He whispered and that was all you needed to hear before you came undone all around him. 

Whimpering and back arching off the couch as you came hard around his cock, tightening around him. He kept pounding into you as your orgasm washed over you, your walls squeezing him violently. Your body trembling under his intense gaze. 

He growled as he buried his cock deep inside you, coming undone right after you. You whined and whimpered as you felt him filling you up, feeling some of his cum drip down your thighs before he dropped carefully on top of you. 

“You okay, baby?” He asked, gently kissing your neck while his hands touched you everywhere they could, rubbing up and down your sides, and thighs. 

“Yeah,” You breathed, placing a hand on top of one of his, toying with his rings. 

“Wanna go to bed?” 

You sighed. “Don’t think I can walk just yet, give me a minute.”

[wardenparker]

Hummingbird Has Landed, ch 12

Marcus Pike x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That jewelry box was definitely not for Sydney...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

______

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

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

My Masterlist!

[sgiandubh]

Hi, I'm sister Anon. I'd like to say that I got into a controversy about Sam and Caitríona in an Outlander group a year ago precisely because I responded to someone who was saying it was impossible for them to be together and no one had ever caught them . I always use a pseudonym and gave the example of my sister( I said this was a friend btw) but I didn't go into details. However, let me say a few things: in his family only his mother and ONE sister knew about their relationship. In my family, my parents and I knew. Grandparents, uncles, brothers-in-law and nephews didn't know they were together, for them they were just close friends and work colleagues. The rest of the team at work was certainly suspicious, but nobody dared to say anything, because there is a secrecy clause in the contracts. During this period there were speculations of him with at least two models and some Instagram influencers and they laughed, because it gave them exactly the cover they wanted. Anyone who looked at his social media would see a single guy enjoying life, when in fact he was a committed and passionate guy, living a very beautiful love story.

Dear (returning) Sister Anon,

Thank you for coming back with more. I chose to publish your story since the very beginning, because it sounds completely legit. *urv can troll around all day long, now enrolling that 23 year old Brazilian fan/journalist/writer (who doesn't know the plural form of 'gentleman' is 'gentlemen', not 'gentlemans'), she could never prove anything else than people having lunch, not sex, in Kensington. But for her crowd, that is enough.

Also, the Brazilian girl could have been my daughter. And if she were, I would tell her that people questioning her (obviously doctored) story does not mean they hate her. It simply means we are older, less gullible and certainly able to tell when an immature woman is desperately looking for attention. She will probably understand that... in five years or so, but that is not my problem anymore.

I loved every single thing you shared with us. Drop by anytime, you will always be more than welcome. And you are completely right: social media is not real life. And how could it be? Would you read my blog, if I told you all there is to know about my bunions?

You wouldn't. You want me to tell you about business, legal, travel, foodie and obscure Baroque/Renaissance/classical music stuff, right?

Things like this (what I wanted to be last week's Sunday sounds, but hey - drama, drama), for example:

PS: one of my acquaintances, a rather popular singer, was at one time the lover of a high (very high) profile local politician - a brilliant guy (also a family friend of ours, btw). I had no idea and I kept on teasing her about singing at his party's events, until someone told me to stop, because it made her feel uneasy. The same person was always referring to the guy as 'Michael', when they were talking about him in public (the woman was really smitten, along with tens of thousands of others, nationwide). Michael, my foot and it ended up in the tabloids anyways.

[johnslittlespoon]

https://www.tumblr.com/johnslittlespoon/744374471821017088/would-just-like-to-point-out-that-once-again-a

i love this so much omgggg. imagine bucky is in a mood one day with buck but still just collapses onto buck’s bunk and curls into the sheets. buck would think it was the most endearing thing ever. maybe buck is standing in bucky’s way, forcing bucky to grumble out an excuse me that’s just dripping with attitude but buck can’t even be upset about it because bucky proceeds to shove past him and throw himself into buck’s bunk and bury his face in his pillow. or imagine buck coming over to talk to bucky and bucky rolls away from him but it’s like. that kind of loses its effect when ur in BUCK’s bunk😭

linked post | gigglingsjdgk yes omg. this is so so THEM i'm gone

it doesn't matter how much they bicker or fight during the day or what type of mood either of them might be in– john will not sleep in his own bunk if his life depends on it once he gets a taste of sleeping in gale's. over the winter, the bunking for warmth excuse works just fine, but as the weather starts to heat up, his new excuse is "your bunk is comfier."

gale doesn't point out that this makes no sense with all of their bunks being the exact same; he'd love to tease john about it, but he doesn't want to scare him out of climbing into his bunk night after night, and he makes damn sure the other guys don't rib on him for it either. everyone's got their coping mechanisms, and they all know john's hanging on by a thread, so they're not going to question his vices.

imagine what goes down after that scuffle in the yard? john spends the rest of the evening pacing the yard, cooling off until it's time for lock–in, and gale's waiting leaning against his bunk when john comes back into the room, expecting a conversation. but john doesn't even look at him fully, just brushes past with a short bratty "scuse me" and drags himself into gale's bunk and curls up as close to the wall as he can get without another word.

gale turns and stares at him in disbelief, shaking his head but still feeling so fond because they can have the worst fight of their friendship and john still crawls into his bed at the end of the day like it belongs to him just as much as gale, even in his silent treatment.

gale half wants to go crawl into john's bunk instead to make a point, but he's not sure he can even fall asleep alone anymore after so many months of sharing a bunk, and he knows it's not really him that john's mad at– they're all mad at the world right now, and john's just taking it out on him because he's there and real and he subconsciously tries to sabotage anything good because he feels undeserving. the silent treatment is as much geared towards gale as it is john punishing himself for the guilt he feels after lashing out at him.

john presses his face into gale's pillow when gale climbs in behind him with a huff, pulling the thin blanket up over both of them, only hesitating for a moment before he slings his arm over john's waist all the same, deciding he's not gonna lay awkward and uncomfortable facing the opposite direction with nowhere for his arms to go; if john wants to be touchy, he can lay somewhere else.

john barely manages to put on a show of being tense against him for more than a few minutes before he's relaxing into his arms anyway, back pressing to his chest, a quiet sigh puffing out against the pillow. gale steals a gentle press of his lips to the nape of his neck, a silent apology, because he knows they'll talk properly in the morning once john's not as antsy and worked up, and john squeezes gale's hand where it rests over his stomach, and everything feels okay again. <3

[octuscle]

My biggest dream was to backpacking in europe between the end of high school and the beginning of college. But I didn't do it. In a few days I'll celebrate my 50. birthday and my wife told me she has a special present for me realizing my dream from my youth and getting a young lover for herself when I'm back. Now I've this countdown on my phone from your corporation. What's going on?

You think it's a bit silly when you get on the plane. With hand luggage only. A large rucksack. Nothing else. Otherwise, when you get on the plane, you usually have a suit on and your laptop with you. Today? T-shirt and functional pants. Cell phone with extra powerful power bank. You feel dressed up. And you look really dressed up too.

When you wake up shortly before landing in Paris, you stroke your chin. Shit, you can't have grown that much beard between New York and here… Anyway, now you have to make your way to Gare de Lyon somehow. The TGV to Vezelay leaves in four hours. And from there, the first stage takes you along the Way of St. James to Strasbourg. With your little bit of school French, you'll manage quite well. In the metro, you look at your reflection in the window pane. You are a miserable tourist. An ageing man in ugly functional clothing. But the beard looks pretty cool…

When you finally arrive at Vezelay station, it's late. You are tired. You've booked a hotel room near the station for your first night in Europe. A bit of comfort. By the way, the Chronivac timer has expired. The display shows that the transformation is in progress.

The hotel is relatively elegant. You stand out at breakfast. Yes, you are freshly showered. But you could go to the hairdresser again. And although you've had a fresh shave, you've already got a shadow of a beard again.

Now it's getting serious. You're standing in front of the hotel. The rucksack on your back. You're already hot. And your first stage of the day is 25 kilometers. How much is that in miles? And why are you doing this to yourself…

The day is hell. You're sweating like a pig. Your feet hurt. You have a sunburn. On the one hand you're hungry, on the other you feel like puking. And when you arrive at your stage destination, you realize that you can't get accommodation without a reservation. As you pass a building site, the foreman asks you if you are looking for work. You reply that you need somewhere to sleep. He replies that that is not a problem. If you give him a hand, you will be given dinner and a place to sleep. You don't really feel like doing any more physical work. And you've always been a failure as a handyman. But somehow you know how to mix concrete and pour a foundation. And as you drink a beer in the evening sun at around 7:30 p.m. and talk to the other craftsmen, it feels very normal. One of the carpenters asks you if you're from the north of France. Because of your strange dialect. You look at him questioningly. And say that you're from Buffalo. He asks if that's near Lille. You have obviously arrived in France.

When you wake up the next morning in your bunk in the trailer, it's 05:30. You were expecting a hell of a muscle ache. But you feel like ripping out trees. You wash yourself briefly with ice-cold water in the rain barrel and then continue on your way. You've promised to help out for two more days before you move on.

Your wife mocked you when you said you wanted to take time out to do two months of work and travel in Europe. Sometimes you realize that she is simply much older than you. But shit, so is the French president's wife. And he should be about your age. 45 years old, as far as you know. Just four years older than you… Well, he's got further than you. But you look hotter than him. And the fresh air is obviously doing you good. Your wife is really suggestive when you facetime. You didn't even know she was into phone sex. But it's a nice change. Normally you tend to fuck colleagues on the building sites where you're helping out. It's more of a man's world. Something for real guys. And if you're anything, you're a real guy.

You've been on the road for six weeks when you finally arrive in Strasbourg. Shit, it's expensive here. Prices completely spoiled by tourists and European bureaucrats. Fortunately, you soon find a job here too. Not as a construction worker, though. But as a waiter in a bistro. And you can even sleep above the bistro. On the very first evening, you notice that very few guests spend the whole night here. A constant coming and going. And when you have to go to the toilet across the corridor, a not at all bad-looking guy in a stuffy suit asks you if you'd like to come up to his room for a moment. He slips you 50 euros. A hell of a lot of money for a blowjob or something. Should you feel cheap or like a hooker? Who are you kidding? Back home on the other side of the pond, you're the toyboy of an ancient lady. She's already 50 years old.

Strasbourg was awesome. But you only have three more weeks before you have to go back. The new semester at university starts. And your GILF is waiting for you back. She told you yesterday how much she misses you. You went out of your way to make her squeal with ecstasy at the end of the phone call. The PayPal payment arrived immediately. Together with the money you earned as a hustler and waiter in Strasbourg, you can now enjoy your last days to the full. You love the wind on your nipples. Maybe a hot trucker or something will pick you up as a hitchhiker. Tonight you should be in a place called Karlsruhe. Then it's not far to Frankfurt. And from there it's back to Buffalo. Someone there is eagerly awaiting her young lover.