#and I thought I had 4 hours after work to say goodbye

[lauryn-order]

I think one of the worst parts about all this may be how I didn’t get a chance to say a real goodbye to my dog.

[whatifitis]

♡ Wickedly Amazing - LN 4 ♡

Summary: Lando is stressed and working all day so during his 15 min break, you decide to stress him out even more 😍

Author's Note: this is complete ass, i wrote it in 1 hr, feedback is always appreciated <3

WC: 970

CW: fluff, my love for wicked the musical, lando matching girlies freak (i think)

Lando had been spending the whole day in meetings via zoom and to say you were bored was an understatement. You had already cleaned the whole apartment, sent some work emails, and read half your book. You missed Lando, even though he was less than 5 feet away. 

Lando had meeting after meeting and they lasted hours. You really only got to see him when you brought him water and food, just sliding it next to him to stay out of frame of the camera and not distract him. 

But Lando was about to have a 15 min break before his next, and hopefully final, meeting of the day. You took it upon yourself to annoy him in your usual fashion, and try and help him destress him a bit by possibly stressing him out. 

While Lan was wrapping up the meeting, you quietly set up a chair behind him and out of frame. You wrapped a throw blanket around your neck and had a broom in hand. As soon as you heard Lando say goodbye and leave the session, you played Defying Gravity on the speakers. 

As soon as the music started, Lando nearly threw his phone into the hair from the abruptly broken silence. He turns in his seat to see you walk around the corner, playing both Elphaba and Glinda’s bits in the song. 

The smile and amusement on his face was what you did these things for. You loved his smile, even more when he truly was happy and when you were the one making it happen. His smile was so wide and the corners of his eyes crinkled with the bridge of his nose. 

As you kept singing, he was cheering you on with some whistles, fist pumps and “that’s my girl”’s. You walked around the room putting on the performance of a lifetime. 

The bridge was coming up and this was your moment to truly blow away the audience (Lando). 

You made your way to the chair you had set up earlier and stood on top of it, shouting about how soon you’d watch them in renown. You threw your cape back to emphasize the imaginary wind blowing up, holding your broom close to you as you prepare to belt your heart out. 

Lando watched in awe through your whole performance. If anyone asked him about your singing, he’d say it’s the most beautiful sound in the world. Whether you were singing Defying Gravity or 22,  he loved it. He thought you were one of, if not the best, singers in the world. That your talent blew the competition out of the water. It wasn’t often that he got to listen to your singing, so the few times he was able to, he savored every second of it. 

But of course, he couldn’t let you have all the fun. As you belted and approached the final riff, Lando took it upon himself to become a part of the ensemble. He stood up from his seat and raced to kneel before you, slowly lying on the ground and singing along to the backing vocals of the song. 

He watched as you successfully attempted Cynthia Erivo’s rift, not being able to hide the smile that is plastered on his face. 

As the song ends, silence fills the room, only the sounds of the two of you trying to catch your breaths can be heard. You drop the broom and step down from your chair, looking at Lando who is now laying flat on the floor as if he was the one carrying that performance on his back.

He clearly wasn’t moving anytime soon so you decided to join him on the floor, falling onto him and resting your head on his chest, listening to his heart as it slows. You feel Lan wrap his arms around you, pulling you closer to him and feeling him kiss your head. 

Lan unties the blanket from around your neck and wraps the blanket around the two of you, wanting to relax for the next few minutes with his favorite person. “That was amazing,” he says. 

“Would you say it was… wickedly amazing?” you ask, cocking an eyebrow at him, trying to supress your smile a bit. 

“Oh shut up.” he laughs, feeling you let out a few giggles as well. “Thank you.”

“For what?” you ask, looking up at him, your brows furrowed in confusion. 

“For a lot of things. But mainly for being here, and making me laugh and making me happy.”

“Oh, you don’t have to thank me. I’m just here, trying my best. I just want you to be happy.”

“I am happy, thanks to you. I genuinely wouldn’t be here without you. You’ve been here through all my bullshit. I was rude as fuck at times, but you still stayed. I don’t know how I could ever repay you and how much it means to me.” Lan confesses, softly rubbing his thumb along your cheek. 

You move to hover over him, resting on your elbow, “You really don’t have to thank me, Lan. I do all of this because I love you. I do everything for you because I care about you. You’re my favorite person in the world and there’s no one I would rather sing with. I want to spend the rest of my silly little life with you, right by your side.”

“I love you.” “I love you.”

You move to capture Lando’s lips in yours. It’s slow and gentle, feeling him relax as you hold the side of his face with your hand. His lips feel warm against yours and he never wants to forget this feeling, of feeling so safe and happy and like he’s truly loved. He never wants to let you go. You’re his girl. His person.

[simpee9000]

Not Just Friends - 9 -

M.List : Prologue : Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3 : Part 4 : Part 5 : Part 6 : Part 7 : Part 8 : Words 5.1k

Childhood best friends turned into something more, at least with the label. Katsuki Bakugo, a fast-rising hero and fast-learning guy who is ever so slow in getting attached to and loving someone. Even three long years into a relationship, and your friends even forget you're even dating. Nothing happening, spare a few kisses.. like 3 kisses, during high school. Graduated and living together, and you guys have done absolutely nothing to further the relationship. Are you sure you're not just friends? Also not edited!! CW: Smut, brief domestic violence discussion, virginity loss, aggressive flirting from creeps, gore with pro hero stuff (lmk if i missed any) Applies to all chapters regardless of it is in said chapter.

The change was weird. A lasting sour taste in your mouth.

It was sudden too. His withdrawal from your life was instant.

Rather than how it was when you were temporarily sharing his room, he didn't wake you up and say goodbye. You thought that was just a morning after an argument thing, but it lasted. Going into the next week he even changed it more.

He no longer let you share your mornings, you had to relearn to use your own alarm quickly. Your schedules conflicted more than just that as well.

Lunch would no longer work, he switched his patrol times and took on meetings instead of leaving the space open for you.

Dinner wasn't really a thing anymore either. He stopped telling you when he'd be home, and after the first week of him not being home till late, you gave up. Throwing yourself into work as well. Changing your hours so you could sleep in more and get home later. Just to eat some leftovers he packed up for you, before turning in.

Words weren't really exchanged anymore and it was weird. You shared a room, and a bed, yet never saw each other awake.

It felt like a break up. In the simplest of terms. It wrecked you for a while. Felt like you were trudging along as you waited for him like a puppy.

You knew he held grudges but you've never expected him to turn it onto you.

You wanted to mourn the relationship but felt like it wasn't a right you had. He was still your boyfriend, you think. And you talked after you woke him up getting into bed. A quick conversation, but a conversation nonetheless. But the relationship back peddled to way before he got the watch. It felt like how it was after your first kiss in first year. Consuming yourselves with school to avoid the talk.

His mom still called often, nothing changed with how she spoke to you. Nothing changed outside your relationship with him and it was weird. You don't even know if your friends have noticed and it's been months.

It was nearing the end of October, the argument happened in the middle of August.

And none of your friends even blinked an eye. When Katsuki refused an invitation they assumed the normal, not surprised to see you at the bar without him. Mei didn't even notice. When you brushed off your change of work schedule and said he changed as well, she didn't ask another question. Thinking you were only glum because of the negative side of the internet. Fans bashing you at any corner possible.

It didn't bother you much, felt like a fly buzzing around you constantly but it was liveable.

Getting pestered for more interviews, people trying to get an inside look at Dynamight's home life. But you followed Shoto's PR manager's advice and chose to stay out of the limelight. Only interviewing when it was about your work.

Your work was your baby after all. Especially recently, it was hard to get you out of the office before two in the morning. Having more heroes come to you than before. It was exciting to see your career grow, you were just slightly annoyed that it was because of Katsuki that it grew. But a win was a win.

Everyone agreed with you on that, your friends closed down a bar for you, wanting to celebrate how many clients you had. You were getting article after article written about your work, being named as the second-best individual support tech in all of Japan. Because obviously, they'd have rankings for that as well.

A blush instantly covered your face when you walked into the bar, Mei pushing you forward. She dragged you out of the lab for once and convinced you to show face.

Kirishima is the first to tackle you in a hug, letting Mina do the same right after. "Congrats," he patted your shoulder as he pulled you more into the bar.

Most of Class A was there for you, celebrating you. Other pros you met along the way as well. People that you stayed in touch with since high school. Anyone you would want to be there was there.

"You guys shouldn't have," you smiled at the group, it was contagious. Denki had a derpy smile on him while Mina was bouncing around.

Kirishima laughed you off, "You needed it, been stuck in that lab and it paid off." You shrunk in on yourself when called out, you hadn't really been showing up that often to group outings. Not nearly as much as you used to.

"I got your favorite Cake!" Mina skipped towards you as best as she could. The cake was custom-made for you, having only the best flavors.

"It's not my birthday," you felt the need to point out, given the size of the celebration. And the candles that topped the cake.

"Might as well be," Mina pushed, "You're a new person! Officially number 2 in Japan!"

You did feel like a new person, you've changed a lot in the past two months.

"Come on," Mei teased over your shoulder, "Blow out the candles!"

"Make a wish!" Mina cheered, pushing the cake closer to you. And with the people you knew, they joined in. Cheering you on.

"They're gonna melt, y'know," Sero urged you once move.

"Fine," you laughed, feeling lighter than you had in the past couple of months. Thinking of nothing in particular as you blew out the candles, only looking around the crowd after. Noticing the lack of a certain blonde.

Rather than letting your shoulders slump too much, you let yourself fall into the cheer from your friends.

It was how you've done things since. You stopped waiting around for him, for the first time since you were kids. You pushed past him, not looking at every notification on your phone and hoping it was him. It didn't take Izuku this long to move beyond Katsuki, so you don't know why you let yourself take this long. Living behind him for so long.

You were pushed from conversation to conversation, catching up with people you haven't seen in a while and then talking with your closest friends. Being handed drink after drink in the process.

"You've been working a lot," Izuku commented when you finally made your way to him.

"Yeah," you nodded happily, "It's paid off."

He furrowed his brows, "You shouldn't overwork yourself. You haven't had a day off in months."

"Not true, I take a day off every week," you corrected him, not knowing where he got that idea. You took a day off every week, taking time to sleep the entire time.

"But-" he looked so confused, "Kacchan said you're not home, like ever."

"Oh," you understood the confusion now, "I switched my off days."

"Why?"

You shrugged, not really wanting to get into this conversation. Especially not with him and not now. You'd fall apart instantly. The feeling and pressure of your fragile relationship sitting on top of your chest. "Needed a change, you know how it is."

"I'm here for you, I know I'm busy but if you need anything I'm here," he was taking on the concerned best friend role, like usual.

"Z', I'm fine, really," you brushed off his concern, "Better than ever, my career is taking off, that's all that matters."

"That's not all that matter-"

"I need to go thank Mina and Mei again for setting this up," you excused yourself and walked through the slowly dying crowd. Meeting with the two pink-haired girls that were chatting near the food.

"Why do you look so drained?" Mei called out instantly, Mina slapping her shoulder right after.

"Social battery is just nonexistent right now," you lied, picking up a piece of food.

Mina looked around the bar, "It seems like it's just your close friends now, everyone else left by now."

You sighed in relief, you wanted to go home somewhat. Yet you didn't want to go back to him.

"Hey, Mei," you got her attention, "Can I spend the night?"

"Yeah," she shrugged, "Thought your social battery was dead though?"

"Friends don't count," you contradicted yourself and just prayed they wouldn't call you on it.

"Still, you never ask," Mei pointed out.

"I'm a new person," you grabbed another piece of food, filling your mouth so you couldn't be asked anymore.

"If you're mad at Bakugo for not showing up I wouldn't blame you." Mina spoke softly, "Dick move of him honestly."

"He's busy, it's fine," you defended him without another thought.

"No it's not, how many award shows have you been to for him?" Mei joined in. It felt nice they had your back, but it wasn't necessary.

You sighed, "I'm used to it. I'll have plenty more so it's fine."

Mina and Mei shared a look, not wanting to give in and forgive him as easily as you do, but not wanting to put you down either. "You're welcome to stay at mine," Mei finished the conversation.

A small gasp left Mina's mouth, eyes widening. "Bag of dicks is here," Mei groaned.

You couldn't help looking over your shoulder, seeing Katsuki for the first time awake in a while. Seeing Kirishima and Denki crowd him instantly. Greeting him warmly as you stood there. "I need a drink," you twisted your direction to head to the bar. Tonight was going to be a good night, not another about him.

Looking at him was too much, it hurt at first. Knowing your last real conversation was an argument. One where he threatened to take sex away from you, when he actually took everything him away. Just because you didn't want him to die for a stupid reason. It hurt to see everything on his side was fine.

It pissed you off. He was acting the same as you were, sure, but you would have gone to his award show. You would have been the first one there. Yet here he was, the last person to show after most left.

The bartender was quick to hand you a drink, watching and replacing it after you downed it all. You've been steadily drinking all night but a new buzz would help. Help the anger that was brewing over you.

You turned around when you had your second drink, wanting to sip on this one instead. Only getting more upset when he was still talking to his friends. Not even sparing you a glance. You let your head fall at this point, watching your shoes as you tapped your feet.

Any thought other than him would help, this wasn't about him. It shouldn't be.

For the past two months, you've been doing everything alone, and it's shown it's worth it. This was just another event that you had to get through. You'd just have to deal with him standing on the sidelines for once.

You saw Uraraka's white shoes before she spoke, "Do you want to join the group?"

When you looked up you saw that people pushed tables together, all of them sitting down together. How you didn't hear them move everything was surprising. Once you got rid of the shock, you turned back to her, "Yeah sure."

She smiled warmly, linking her arm with yours as she walked to the table with you. Sitting down next to you after you took your spot at the head of the table, next to him, unfortunately. You kept your body turned away from him, focusing on talking with her. The two of you didn't get to talk often after all. But you liked her nonetheless, she was the embodiment of welcoming.

The side conversations easily merged into one big conversation. You looked over the group as you leaned back in your chair. Sero was laughing as Denki rambled, Mei and Mina encouraging the conversation while Kirishima tried to reel it back in. Izuku was smiling fondly at the group, the same as Shoto. It was all your closest friends, it made you feel warm.

"It is not just a high school thing," Denki pointed at Sero laughing, "you're just mad that you couldn't." You were easily confused by his outburst, not having a clue what the conversation was about.

"No Nut November is like a middle school joke," Sero stated back.

"What is that?" Shoto asked, confused.

Denki and Sero started laughing, forcing Mina to explain, "It's a thing guys do, a challenge of not nutting for the full month of November."

"Nutting?" Shoto asked again.

"You're kidding!" Denki wheezed.

"Cumming," Kirishima answered, face cringing at the conversation. Everyone cringed besides Denki and Sero, who were too busy laughing.

"Why would you do that though?" Shoto was trying to piece together the concept.

"Only idiots do," Katsuki cut in. It was the first time you heard his voice so clearly all night.

Not being given a chance to soak in his voice, Denki starts defending the idea again, "You're only saying that cause you couldn't last that long."

"I could," Katsuki bit back, wanting to win at anything challenged.

"Please," Sero started teasing as well, "Bakugo you'd last a day."

"How the fuck would you know?"

"You either get some daily or never," Sero pointed out, "I'm falling on the likelihood of daily, knowing your girlfriend."

"Okay," you slapped your hands on the table, "Enough of that conversation."

Mina booed at you, having enjoyed the guys bickering.

"Thank god," you heard Izuku whisper in relief.

"I think I'm going to head out," you announced, standing up and giving Mei a nod so she knew she should get ready. You were thankful the bar was already nearly clean, no help was needed.

You looked down at Katsuki when you heard his keys, the sound familiar to you.

"Did you drive here?" Katsuki asked you, looking back up at you.

"Uh-" you looked at Mei, "I didn't."

"Need a ride back home?" he offered, standing up next to you.

It hurt to decline him, but you didn't want anything to do with him, not tonight.

"Ready?" Mei joined you by your side.

You looked between the two before settling on Katsuki, "I'm actually going to stay the night at Mei's." Any hope he had in his eyes left, face dropping in the slightest bit. You didn't notice the look he held until it was gone.

He looked like he got his heart ripped out and stomped on, but so did you.

"Look, if this is about me showing up late, I'm-"

A surprised laugh left your lips, it was mean. And the look on his face showed that he felt that it was mean as well. "This isn't about you Katsuki," you put it bluntly. It wasn't about him, tonight wasn't about him. You wanted to keep a good mood, and going home with him wouldn't do that.

You didn't give him the chance to reply before you grabbed onto Mei, wanting to leave as soon as possible. Going through all the goodbyes.

---

Mei and you shared the same horrible sleep schedule. She grabbed some wine as she let you collapse on her couch and turned the TV onto something for background noise the second you got to her apartment.

She handed you a glass before she sat down next to you, beer in her own hand. "I got to ask now, you know that right?"

You groaned, taking a sip of your wine, "Hit me with the questions." Avoidance wouldn't last in a small setting and you knew that.

"What the hell happened between you guys?"

"We're having a rough spot right now," you answered simply, shuffling further into the couch.

"That much is obvious."

"Fine," you gave in, taking a deep breath to give an actual answer, "I haven't really talked to him for two months."

Mei's face drained of all color, "What?"

"Yeah," you shrugged, swirling the wine in your glass.

"Are you broken up?" Mei reached a hand to rest on your forearm.

"No, at least," you thought for a second, "I don't think we are."

"How are you with someone you haven't talked to in months?"

"I don't know," you mumbled.

"What type of argument could have caused that?"

You wanted to laugh out of frustration, looking back on it was painful and stupid to you. Yet you were still so mad. "Y'know how I made him that watch?" she nodded, "Well, he asked me to make the watch for the reasons you thought. And he was fully relying on it. Having his quirk off every time he was next to me."

"Can't that kill you?" Mei asked.

"Yes, so I told him that and he turned it into a massive thing. I asked him to take it off, and he said no, so I told him I wouldn't touch him when he had his quirk off. Now we just don't talk," you explained quickly, chest tightening.

"But you're still dating?" you could tell she was trying to be sensitive to the situation.

All you could do was shrug, "I still share a bed with him, so I'm assuming yes."

"How come you don't talk to him?"

"I tried the first week, but when he changed his schedule around to avoid me, I did the same."

"So that's why-"

"Yeah, it's done a lot of good for me though. I've finally grown a lot more. My career is at a high and it's only up from now. I'm no longer just in his shadow. Honestly, I'm thankful for the fight. I finally feel like an adult. I don't need anyone to get me where I am and it's refreshing," you admitted. A lot of good has come from it, and you weren't going to ignore it.

"But you love him?" Mei asked, trying to make sure.

"Of course, he just isn't my life."

"You're not going to try for him? You have been each other's since you were five," Mei worded slowly.

"I'm not reaching out to someone who doesn't want me, Mei," you looked at her, firm on what to do about everything. It was already settled before but now you've actually said it. "I don't know why it took me forever to realize, I wish I did when Izuku did. I would be a lot further in life."

"You already are far in life, you're not even twenty and your 2nd best support tech-"

"I could have been first-"

"No," Mei shook her head, "I'm sorry to say it, but you're only this far because of him. Because of your friends."

"Mei-"

"I'm not wrong, you've been given endless support. Without that? You would still be fumbling behind everyone else. You can't get anywhere in life solely on your own."

"Well, it wasn't only him," you pointed out. You agreed with her, your friends helped a lot.

"It was majority him," she pointed out.

You rolled your eyes, "Don't you somewhat hate him?"

"I still know he's good for you, and if your entire relationship goes to shit over this, I'm not letting myself be a part of it. Is he an asshole for showing up late? Yes, fuck him for that. Is he a dick for throwing a fit about kissing and not talking to you? Absolutely. But he is also the man who loves you the most, he's been there for you so many times. Are you going to throw that away?"

"I'm not throwing shit away, he is," you defended yourself, tears lining your eyes.

"Your not even trying-"

"I shouldn't have to," you stood up, "I tell him everything while he keeps himself away. I'm fucking done. If he wants me, he needs to tell me."

"What are you doing?" Mei questioned, seeing you grab your things.

"Leaving," you said firmly.

"You don't have a car-"

"I'll walk," you spit out, slamming the door to her apartment as you left. Breaking down when in the elevator. You wanted tonight to be about you, about your success. Yet as always, it turned out to be about him. You thought you'd grown out of being only mentioned because of him.

You walked on uneasy footing until you got out of her block. She was your best friend and she didn't even understand. It made you wish you talked to Izuku.

The street lamps lit up your bag as you looked for your phone. Glancing at the time before you dialed his number. His sleep was fucked up too, so you weren't worried about waking him up

"Are you okay?" was the first thing he said, full of concern. It was 3 in the morning after all.

"No," you choked on a sob, choosing to lean on a wall rather than continue walking. You didn't even know where to walk.

"What's going on? Do I need to get you-"

"I'm safe," you cleared up your throat, "I'm just struggling."

"Why?"

"Katsuki and I are in a rough patch, Mei doesn't get my side on it, and I can't turn to him," you rambled, "I just don't know what to do."

"Just breathe right now, you're going to get worse if you continue like this," he counted for you to follow. Performing his hero script as he calmed you down.

You let yourself sit on the concrete, leaning your back onto a random building as you rested your head on your knees.

"Okay," you whispered into the phone, "Katsuki and I haven't talked in two months."

Izuku was a rambler but he was also a good listener. Letting you get out any detail you needed before even opening his mouth. So you told him everything, leaving out any sex-related things. Telling him Katsuki used the watch to hug you or kiss you, so a truth in the cover-up. He could draw up that conclusion on his own.

"I was just thinking that maybe you'd understand," you finished, "I'm just so tired of reaching out to him."

"I get it," he started, "Probably the only one that does. He locks himself off and just expects you to come chasing for him. And the second you don't, he throws a fit. You should let him, I know it's hard, but he needs to grow up as well. You told him your concern and he locked you out, he needs to be the one to let you back in."

You sighed in relief, "So I'm doing the right thing?"

"Yes, especially in a relationship. It shouldn't be so one-sided with communication. You come a long way in the past months, and he should acknowledge that. I love you both, and I hope you guys work past it, but if it doesn't then it's for the best," he spoke to you like a brother would. You didn't even notice when the dynamic between the two of you flipped. Him going from acting like a younger brother to the older brother.

"Thank you," you sniffled, trying to dry the tears that have been working down your face, "Mei thinks I'm throwing everything away."

"He's the one that pushed you out, he's throwing it away," Izuku pointed out. You hummed in agreement, looking down at your phone.

"Holy fuck," the time surprised you, it was nearing five in the morning, and it was a Saturday. You were thankful that the city wasn't awake yet. "I need to get home."

"You're not home?!" he squeaked into the phone, "Where are you?"

"I don't know," you answered honestly, standing upright and stretching your limbs out.

"What?!"

"I'll start walking home now," you tried to calm him down.

"Do you know how dangerous that is?"

"I'm fine Izuku, I'm maybe a block away from home," that seemed to calm him down. He let you hang up the phone, telling you to text him when you were home.

You were glad to have a hoodie at this point, pulling the hood up to hide your tear-streaked face as you walked back home. Needing the ten-minute walk to calm down. Think for yourself.

While you fully agreed with Izuku, you also saw Mei's point of view. She wanted you happy, and you were happy with Katsuki. You didn't want to break up with him, you loved him fully. But if he couldn't meet you halfway, you weren't going to rush to fill that emptiness he left. You'd rather move on to better things. Maybe find someone who would.

With your head hung low the entire walk back to your apartment, you didn't even notice you were in the elevator until it opened on your floor. Having walked all the way on a full autopilot. Thinking of your relationship that overtook one of the biggest days of your career.

You opened your door with a sigh, throwing your keys on the shelf before turning into the kitchen for some water. Filling up a glass before you walked to the basket of blankets in the corner of the living room.

The second you turned around to walk to the couch you dropped your glass. A shocked scream left your lips when you saw Katsuki sitting there in the dark.

"What the fuck are you doing?" you hissed at him, confused as to why he was sitting in the dark and not in his room.

"I was sleeping," he answered.

"Here?" you shot back, bending down to pick up the broken glass.

"Aren't you supposed to be at Mei's?"

You squeezed your hand in annoyance, only noticing the burn of the cut then.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," you turned his concern down, throwing away the broken glass when you walked into the kitchen. Thankful that it broke into big pieces rather than small. You ran your hand underwater as you ignored him.

"You're bleeding," it was clear he was groggy with sleep.

"No shit," you answered plainly.

"Fuckin' c'mere," he moved near you, trying to grab your hand only to get swatted away.

"I can take care of myself," you snapped at him, moving to grab a paper towel, trying to dry up the small cut.

"Think I don't fucking know that?" he asked back, agitated at your reactions to him. You waited for the bleeding to stop before throwing away your trash and grabbing a bandaid to cover the small cut to your finger.

You shrugged, "Never know with you. Never tell me anything. Don't know what you know or don't."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I-" you sighed, you didn't want to get into it, "Nothing, I'm tired." You walked past him again, grabbing a blanket and getting comfortable on the couch.

"You're sleeping down here?"

"Yeah, go to bed Katsuki," you turned away from him.

"Kats," he said softly, making you turn to face him again.

"What?"

"You stopped calling me Kats, it's only this Katsuki bullshit now."

"Whatever, Katsuki," you dismissed without thinking, turning back over as you tried to forget how he looked just then. It's how he looked at the party, just ten times worse.

"What happened to us?"

You didn't bother to reply, it was clear he wanted you to do the talking. But if he wanted to actually talk, he had to first.

"This," he paused, silence filling the air before he cleared his throat only for his voice to crack regardless, "This isn't what I want."

"You never told me what you wanted," you couldn't help but reply.

"I'm not good at this type of shit," he was angry at himself but you wouldn't fall into this pity party for himself. "I didn't think you'd change your schedule."

"You changed yours."

"I only did that because I needed to think," he defended.

"For two months?"

"I switched it back after but you weren't home, and haven't been since."

"So you couldn't have called? Asked me when I did get home at night? Woke me up in the morning to talk?"

"You could have done the same."

"I always do that Katsuki," you turned to face him, "I'm always the one fucking chasing you. And I'm done."

He choked, "You're done?"

"I'm done chasing after you," you clarified, "I've met you halfway, time after time, you just need to do the same."

Silence buzzed around the living room. The two of you were just staring at each other. Both are equally heartbroken. You looked him over for the first time in months.

"You're still wearing the watch," you pointed out, seeing the gleam of it on his wrist.

"You gave it to me," he replied, "I haven't used it since, by the way."

"Good."

He took a shaky breath in, "I'm so fucking sorry, Brains." You waited for him to continue, "You were right, I wasn't using it just as a crutch. I was completely relying on it." It hurt to hear it from him, you already knew it was true. "I, fuck," he ran his hand over his face, "I went to the doctor too, they said if I used it that much it'd kill me. Having my quirk completely off."

You couldn't be more glad about the fight now, knowing it kept him from killing himself. Sure it wouldn't kill him immediately, but over time it would just get worse and worse for his health.

"Once I found out you were right, I just couldn't bear the thought. I don't feel safe around you without my quirk dampened and now I can't," he admitted, "I feel my quirk just with this conversation. I don't want to hurt you."

"You were late to the party," you pointed out instead, "You never even congratulated me."

He hung his head, "I got sidetracked with trying to get a gift- but I was going to congratulate you at home."

"Doesn't excuse it."

"I know, I'm sorry," he reached into his pocket, "I got this for you though." He tossed the small bag at you.

You gave him an unsure look before opening it, first seeing a sticker of "World's Best Tech" an inside joke between the two of you. He hated the idea of #1 mugs and things like it, claiming he was better than everyone else. The next was just a small necklace, something easy to wear with everything.

"It doesn't make up for shit, and that's not what I'm trying to do with it," he said after you stared at the gift for a while.

"I know," you spoke softly, the gift was thoughtful for your relationship.

"I'm so fucking proud of you, I knew you could do it," he followed.

Tears were hitting your eyes harder than before. Despite claiming you didn't need him. You wanted to hear him say that so bad.

You saw him move to get up when he saw your tears, sitting back down and grabbing his own hands when he decided against it. You patted the seat next to you. As long as his watch wasn't on, you were okay. He rushed immediately to your side, tugging you into a hug before he could overthink.

"I should have talked to you a lot sooner," he spoke into your hairline, leaving a kiss on your forehead after.

"Yeah."

"I'm sorry I can't be there for you like this," he said softly.

You pulled back from him, "What do you mean?"

"Can't hug you and shit," he grumbled, pulling you back into him. Not wanting you to see his face.

You sat in silence for a while, soaking in his words and the perspective he likely had the past two months. He could have thought you stopped talking to him because he couldn't touch you anymore.

"I'm not mad that you can't touch me, I'm upset that you don't talk to me, in general," you spoke just as softly as he did, wanting to comfort him the way he was comforting you.

He let out a breath of relief, "It's gotten worse without you around."

"What did?"

"My quirk just goes off without you now, just the thought freaks me out enough. Fuckin' annoying," he confessed.

"Is it going to go off soon?" you wanted to be prepared to be pushed away from him. If he did it unannounced you'd likely cry. He just squeezed you closer.

"No," he said quietly, "It's finally calmed the fuck down."

-Next Part-

In them m.list of this fic comment if you want to be added into a tag list <3

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[reiderwriter]

She's a Silver Lining

Chapter Nine of I Can't Help Myself

Summary: Spencer comes to terms with your abduction.

Warnings: ANGST, Suicidal ideation, kidnapping, mentions of fetal abduction and murder of pregnant women, descriptions of abuse, descriptions of prenatal care, typical case details. Spencer is depressed.

A/N: I'm sorry this chapter is a day late, I literally saw God this weekend (I saw Taemin perform live), and really, all that's been on my mind is how God is Good (Taemin is hot), and so I haven't been able to write anything as depressing as this chapter. I hope you enjoy (?) it anyway~♡

Masterlist || tags are currently broken, I'm sorry ♡

Eight days. It had been eight days since Spencer had last seen you. Eight days since he'd screwed up his one job so massively that he'd lost you. 

He'd lost people before. He'd lost people on cases. Victims, unsubs, bystanders, and family members who didn't stand a chance at recovering from their own loss. He'd lost Maeve, which was a little too similar to his current circumstances to think about too hard. He'd been losing his mother since he was born, and he'd really lost her again a few months ago. He'd lost Gideon. He'd lost Elle, too, before that. He'd lost Emily, and though she'd come back too, it wasn't the same. He'd lost Morgan, and then Hotch. He'd lost Alex Blake.

He'd lost nearly everyone in his life. Some of them had come back, most of them hadn't. 

He'd thought himself immune to the pain of losing someone at last. 

He'd certainly lost enough of himself in prison. 

It may have only been 84 days, but whatever was left in him of hope before was gone. He'd emerged completely empty. 

He supposed that's why he'd accepted the role at the university. There was nothing left for him to give to the BAU, but he couldn't be the one to leave. 

As it was, he'd already been unsettled enough by leaving you behind when he'd finished up his time there. 

It felt weird to him, saying goodbye. Not that he'd actually said goodbye. He'd kissed your forehead as he slipped out of your bed, sure, but you'd been neither conscious, nor fond of him in anyway. It was a parting gesture just for him  and he hadn't been quite sure why he'd done it. 

It was just a gesture and one he'd repeated multiple times after getting you back. You didn't know, of course. How could you? 

He'd either woken up before you and kissed your forehead, or climbed into bed beside you late at night and greeted you then. 

You'd lain side by side, drifting to sleep slowly, when he realized it had become a daily habit. 

He hadn't any idea of what he'd do when you left. 

And now you had. And it was his fault. 

In the eight days since you'd been kidnapped, Spencer had come to terms with a few facts.

He knew 64,956 women were currently declared missing in the United States. He knew that 77% of adults reported missing were found in 24 hours. You weren't. He knew 4% were found in 48 hours. You weren't. Only 3% were usually missing still after a week. 

You were somehow in that small minority, even though there was an entire team of FBI agents working around the clock to find you. 

He'd had faith in his coworkers before. Before, he'd begged for their help, and they'd succeeded in 24 hours, even if the outcome wasn't preferable. 

This time, he didn't beg. He had no faith. He just hoped to be present with a gun, loaded with two bullets, if this time went the way of the last. 

On the eighth day after your abduction, Spencer finally returned home.

The damage from your abduction was still apparent. 

Not that your captor had left many clues. In fact, they'd left none. Not even a fingerprint or a good angle on the CCTV. But he hadn't taken returning to an empty apartment well.

He slashed through the crime scene tape quickly, letting in hang in the doorway as he entered. The bookshelves he'd attacked were limping, leaning on each other for support after he'd ripped books off so violently he'd set them askew. 

He'd kicked and ripped and punched the wall so hard he'd needed stitches that he'd absolutely refused to get. 

He'd cried and sobbed into his bloodied and bruised hands until Emily had arrived, and then he'd cried some more, leaning on his friend, his sister, for her support. 

Returning now, there wasn't a single tear left.

In the hospital, they'd addressed his flesh wounds, but the emotional ones would never hear. 

You were gone. And now there was only a 3% chance he'd ever see you again. 

Emily hadn't allowed him to stick around to make their jobs harder. She's placed him on house arrest - funnily enough, her house, where you should've been if he wasn't such a selfish ass - and assigned a watch. 

She’d said it was for protection, but what she'd meant was it was to protect him from himself.

The rest of the team had avoided the topic entirely. They didn't know how to deal with whatever stage of grief he was going through. Many of them had comforted him the first time. They didn't know how to do it a second. They didn't know if they could. 

After eight days, Spencer had left Emily’s apartment. He'd dodged the Agent she'd stationed alongside him, got into a taxi, and gone home. 

Surveying the damage, he was surprised how deep the hurt had already cut to not feel much anymore. 

He looked at the books splayed on the floor. It was a title that you'd been reading that week. One he remembered you using at the office, one that had been on both of your courses reading lists. He picked each of them up and put them back on the shelf. He righted each shelf and organised them neatly, how he thought you'd like them. 

He picked pillows up and rearranged them. He vacuumed the debris from the floor, the thin layer of dust that had gathered since he'd left, the splinters pf bookcase that had crumbled off, the shards of wall that were speckled with his blood. 

He wept the entire time, though silent, until there were no tears left to cry. 

Then he'd come across a tiny package underneath his coffee table, a single corner of plastic peaking out, begging for attention. 

He'd picked it up and wept again as he found depths of sadness to reach further down than what he'd assumed to be rock bottom. 

Aa he lay in a pool of his own despair, a new, haunting fact crashed from his brain to his heart. Since 1987, there had been 21 foetal abductions in the USA. 19 of them had ended in homicide, with the mother dying. 

You made 22. 

In the two months since you'd been abducted, you'd learned three things. 

The first was that you absolutely loved Spencer Reid. You'd spent enough time sitting introspectively about everything in your life to realize you had to stop being so stubborn and admit just that. You'd been about there before all of this, but now you knew for sure. 

You should be cursing the man that inspired your horror show of a life, after all. But instead, you thought about him and held back tears. 

She gave you updates these days, testing your reactions to his name, waiting to see you crack, to see you cry, and sob and break down completely. 

Today, Spencer had been to see his mother, she said. He'd broken down in her arms and caused her to have an episode. She'd hit him so hard, his face had already been bruised by the time she saw him. 

The second thing you knew was that your baby was going to be born healthy. You had no plans of having a home birth, but now, at seven months pregnant, and large enough that you almost thought about doing your conception math again, you knew you were on track for giving birth in the room you'd been in for the last 58 days. 

You hadn't counted. 

She’d been good enough to tell you the date, the day, and her plans every morning when she visited you. She checked your vitals, your blood pressure, the position of the baby, your temperature, your heart rate, and recorded everything in her chart. She asked you how the pregnancy was going, almost as if she was the nurse she'd been training to be. 

Her bedside manner was so good some days. You forgot entirely that you were tied down to the bed, ankle clamped down. 

She let you walk for an hour a day, but recommended bedrest after that for health reasons. You didn't complain or talk back because she didn't like that. 

She let you read, and she was even curious about your reading, asking you questions and taking notes as if this were just part of her regular college schedule, an office hour that had taken over her life. 

You shuddered sometimes as she stared up at you with those big eyes, so wide, and young, and naive, and full of hatred, and evil, and you wanted to claw them out and scream for help, and stab her with the pencil she wrote notes with, and stab, and stab, and stab, and-

The third thing you knew was that you'd never hold your baby in your arms because you'd be dead moments after they breathed their first breath.

You knew, because she had told you as much everyday since you'd woken up. 

In two months, Spencer had become more manic and self-destructive than he'd ever been in his entire life. 

His world centred around you, and finding you, even as his 3% slipped to 1%, slipped to 0.1%, and he knew deep inside that he'd never see you again. 

He hadn't returned to the BAU but had instead turned his home into an investigation room, emptying the walls so he could pin up information, evidence, pictures of you, everything he could find. It wasn't that he'd regained hope, but he'd grown so desperate that he suddenly gripped hard onto the only slither of it that he had left and refused to drop it. He was a dog that didn't know the game of fetch only conti he'd if he dropped the ball. His life would not go on without you.

So he searched. He knew how far along you were. He knew how far along a woman had to be for a c section, professionally performed or not. 

He barricaded himself into his house and paced for days as his friends pounded down his door. He let none in. He didn't go out. He wasn't sure what he ate, or drank, or if he slept, but he knew he paced, and he thought, and he came up with theories. 

After two months, Emily was tired of knocking. 

“Spencer Reid, I am coming in,” she shouted from behind the door. 

He usually ignored her. She couldn't pass the bookshelves he'd moved in front of the door anyway, even if his superintendent had given her a key. 

This time though, he heard a banging, a creak and a crash as the bookshelves went down and Emily, who had left him and returned, made her way inside his apartment. 

“You barricaded the door?” she said, looking at him. 

He took a shaky breath and tried to answer as she surveyed his apartment, the mess of papers, books, string on the wall. He saw her stare down at the pile of sheets on the floor where he'd been sleeping, the bag of your things he had dragged to be closer to him. 

He saw her look at the baby shoes, and baby grows he'd laid out neatly on the floor, and he saw the pitying look she turned on him. 

“She's pregnant,” he finally said out loud, though you must've been 7 months along by then. “I'm going to be a father.”

“Spencer,” Emily said, grasping his hand, voice cracking from the strain of emotion that coated her tongue, making her voice thick. “You would've been an amazing father.” 

“No. No-” he said, breaking away and moving back to his wall. “No past tense, I won't let you… I won't let you give up on them.” 

“It's been two months.” 

“So she's only seven months pregnant. I have two more months to find her, Emily. Two more. At least allow me that.” 

The tears in his eyes streamed freely now as she nodded. 

“We will…. you know we'll help you. We'll do everything we can, so come to the office.” 

He didn't want to give up his space. His reminders of you, the baby grows, the information he'd gathered.

Equally, he didn't like Emily being in this space. She thought you were already dead, and he couldn't even look her in the eye. 

Reluctantly, he nodded, lifting himself up on legs weakened by insurmountable grief, and he followed her to Quantico. 

By the end of your third trimester, you wondered how you could ever have gotten so big. When you gave birth, the child inside of you would only be the size of a small pumpkin. You felt like you'd swallowed five regular size pumpkins whole, and you felt you were still expanding. 

The point worried her. She'd broken two glasses in tantrums this last week alone, measuring you every day. 

The closer you got to birth, the more agitated she grew. 

“This demon inside of you is going to kill you. I won't even have to do it myself,” she'd whispered to herself, or to you, as she took your vitals that morning. 

“Please don't say that.” 

“Why not? You're a whore, and you're going to give birth to a devil. You have seduced my soul mate, because you are a jezebel and the Lord is punishing you.” 

You'd needed all the strength you could get for these conversations. Even one tear, and she'd erupt and put a knife at your neck. With only a few weeks left, there was no saying whether she'd speed her plan along. 

“I did not seduce your soul mate,” you said as calmly as you could muster, taking deep breaths, hoping that she would mirror them and calm down. 

“Do we have to watch the fucking video again?” she spat at you, stomping around to the side of your bed and pulling out her phone. She queued up the video quickly and you averted your eyes. 

She turned them back quickly, holding your head in place as she forced you to watch your own office space. She showed you the videos of you and Spencer talking, teasing each other. She showed you the video of you insisting you were not attractive to him. She showed you the video of Spencer fucking you on the sofa, though she screamed and cut her fingernails into her skin the entire way through. 

She even showed you the video of her attempting to seduce Spencer during their office hour. It was the first video in her collection, the first time she'd set up the camera. She used your entrance as proof that you were breaking her apart from her soul mate. From Spencer. 

You were a whore who had thrown herself at him in anyway you could, and you had trapped him with a baby. 

She was going to free him from all responsibility so he could be with her. 

“My baby will be your devil,” she said as the video ended, and you forced your heart to settle. 

“It is not your baby.”

“Spencer won't know that. He doesn't know it's your baby either, and who are the authorities going to believe when I show up with his child. One paternity test later, and I'll have him, and we can be a happy family together, and we can live happily. I'll take in your devil  and raise it as my own, and we'll forget about the whore who almost ruined it all.”

The psychosis was so clearly written on her face, you were surprised no one had caught onto her state yet. She was devolving. She'd been calm, and contemplative the first week. She'd laid out her plans still, her insane plans, and seemed somewhat coherent. 

Then she'd began rambling about the devil and soul mates, and you'd pitied her, even in your fear. 

Now you were just glad she counted your office tryst as your conception date, and you'd never corrected her. 

She still believed there was a month left until your death. You knew it was days. 

You just prayed your baby could buy you some time.

“Professor?” she said as she carried away the tray of items she'd checked your vitals with

“Yes.” 

“You are not in love with Spencer Reid,” she said, as if trying to convince you. 

“No,” you said, trying to convince yourself  though it was hopeless. “I am not in love with Spencer Reid.”

The first lead in the case came on your due date. Patient confidentiality was, happily, overlooked by a few doctors when he pressed the issue, needing to know until when he was counting down. 

He'd done the rough math himself, but he needed a professional opinion. 

The lead came in the form of an email. The university was cleaning out your office to make way for a new professor, despite his insistence that you'd return, and they needed him to collect things. 

And though he knew you'd be giving birth that day, and he had run out of time, something compelled him to go and do this menial task on today of all days. 

Luke had joined him, and then so had JJ and Emily, and Penelope and Tara. Rossi had even arrived to watch you pile books into boxes that were supposed to have lived on these shelves for a long career. Everyone in the room was so busy watching him, waiting for him to crack, that it had to be him to find it. 

At first, he thought it was a hole in the couch. It was so dark and black, its curved corners giving the illusion of introversion. Then he'd touched it and felt the rough bump. 

“Penelope, here, now,” he breathed out, gasping for air as he finally pulled the tiny spy camera free and thrust it into his friends hands. 

He had a lead. He had you now. 

The first hour of labour was inconvenient only because you weren't alone. She'd been tending to you all morning, fussing over your food, trying to maintain the right amount of prenatal vitamins as she usually did, but she'd ran out of two bottles, and the pharmacy wasn't open. 

You sat still and uncomfortable, trying to not even flinch as your water broke, too afraid of death to be thinking about the life you were bringing into this world. 

The second hour ticked by much the same until she left. 

The third came, and you ceased your screams of pain, even as your hands bore holes into your sheets. She returned, and you knew there wasn't much longer until she knew. 

By hour four, she had your legs spread and was watching you deliver your baby, and you knew the same blade that would sever your umbilical cord would also end your life. 

By hour five, you were so delirious with pain that you thought you saw Spencer. You heard his voice cooing to you as you pushed. You felt his hands wipe away your sweat, smooth the hair from your eyes. You heard his voice announce your daughters birth, and you felt his lips against your skin as you finally gave up fighting and drifted into oblivion. 

[martinluvrr]

FLATLINE | PAIGE BUECKERS

⋅˚₊‧ paige x fem!gf!reader

⋅˚₊‧ summary: y/n and paige experience what it means to be in a long distance relationship, but with the distance between them, can they overcome it?

⋅˚₊‧ warning : secret relationship, angst (kinda) ,long distance.

⋅˚₊‧ duayaps: first post🥳🥳🥳.

⋅˚₊‧ inspired by flatline by justin bieber.

⋅˚₊‧ nav ||

"I'LL MISS YOU" paige muttered against her neck.

"it'll go by before you know it" y/n said pulling away from the hug. When college applications started being filled, she took a big risk and applied for Politecnico di Milano, a fashion uni in Milan, Italy. She had already said goodbye to her parents, thinking that was the hardest goodbye she could imagine, but the tears in her eyes from saying goodbye to her girlfriend right now, told her she lied to herself a while ago.

Paige and y/n had always had a rocky side of their relationship, for one, it was a secret waiting to bomb the world, two, they always knew that long distance was going to be a thing for them. With Paige going to Uconn and Yn going to PDM, 'it was already doomed' said by most people. But overcoming the rocky side of their relationship, there was the fairytale side. The one where they in love, where they supported each other in everything, where they took each others first kisses, first everything. They were each other's lifelines in a way, they didn't go a day without speaking to each other.

They both hoped that these future 4 years, weren’t going to change their feelings of each other.

✩

Lately you've been busy, wondering if you miss me

Why did you go against me? I just wanna know

How come you act so different? Talk to me, I'll listen

All the love I'm giving, don't act like you don't know

“…leave a message after the tone” y/n sighed as she hung up the phone. It was 7am and her alarm had just gone off, Paige was most likely asleep. It’s 1am at Storrs.

If you put the time difference aside, they were doing well. Both of them spent at least 2 hours everyday on the phone and haven’t had an any problems yet.

But it’s only been 5 months. 7 months and 3 years to go.

Y/n was glad Paige settled in great, she got along with her teammates and had a great support system there. Paige became a media star, with that came many fans. While y/n wasn’t the jealous type, these fans were wild.

She opened her instagram app, and slowly started to scroll through stories. When she stopped, went stiff. “Oh” she muttered, her girlfriend’s teammate, Aaliyah, had posted a story with the Uconn women’s basketball team having fun ,at what she would guess, a bar. Paige is in the background , a girl sitting next to her, whiles shes on the phone. Y/n quickly checked when the story was posted,10minutes ago.

‘Okay so she could’ve just posted this when she came home’ y/n quickly assured herself. Paige wouldn’t just ignore her calls, especially on a night out, right?

As those thoughts filled her head, a notification sound came from her phone.

pb 👩🏼‍❤️‍💋‍👩🏽

gm baby. can’t talk, tired, going to bed.

y/n didn’t think anything, she couldn’t. She just typed ‘sweet dreams💗’ and hit send.

no i love you, no ily, not even an emoji.

‘Stop, don’t overthink this ,shes just tired’ she told herself. She shut her phone off and got out of bed, leaving her thoughts about P in her comfy bed.

:

It had been a month since the bar incident, and everything seemed normal, until a week ago.

Y/n just got out of work, a small intern job to help her graduate early. It was 6pm in Milan, and 12 in Storrs.On her way home, y/n called P.

The phone rang, 1,2,3 times before she hung up. Tried a gain, 1,2,3. User is busy.Paige had hung up on her, she didn’t think much of it. ‘She’s probs busy’.

That was 6 days ago.

While they exchange texts, no calls were made this week. Paige was busy, like really busy, But not busy ‘not go out with her friends for the 3rd time this week’ busy. Y/n got it, freshman year, new teammates, she had to have fun. She also knew that their relationship was on the down low. Even though she assured Paige that it was okay to tell her teammates, P reluctantly agreed. ‘I don’t know, i’ll see’ She muttered to y/n, 2 weeks ago on their normal facetime call.

Y/n didn’t want to think much of it, she didn’t want her overthinking to brew a fight. The last 2 years she was back home, her and paige had never gone a day without speaking to each other, but so what it stopped now?, it was common sometimes to not call. So she let it be, but Paiges text became more and more rare,more dry and definitely more weird.

But y/n knew, paige was just busy.

✩

Girl you always catch me at the bad time (Bad time)
When I know you probably think it's a lie (A lie)
I know I told you last time was the last time (Last time)
How could you pull the plug and leave me flatline?

On the other end of the phone. Y/n hit the red button, and ended the call. She hit her head on the wall behind her in frustration, thankful that the call wasn’t on facetime and Paige could see her sad face.

Y/n had called in sick at work so she could watch Paiges game in peace, her boss gave her an earful, because it was one of the more busier seasons in the fashion world, but she let her be ‘sick in bed’. She was proud of Paige, and was the happiest for her.

But the mood drifted when she heard the voice tell her they need her. ‘I need her too’ Y/n thought. This was the first time in a month that Y/n heard Paiges voice. Her heart clenched when she heard her sound weird, it sounded like she was frustrated. Frustrated with who though, with y/n?.

As time went quick, it felt like Paiges texts were more rare, and even more dry. And Y/n didn’t know if Paige was aware of the way she was acting, she also didn’t know if she should say anything, Paige was a freshman in college having fun, alone,without Y/n next to her.

If Y/n were to say anything, she didn’t want to seem like the bitchy jealous girlfriend that only wanted Paige to spend time with her, she just wanted Paige to spend some time with her.

It felt like their relationship was a bomb, and their time was running out quickly.

How could you pull the plug and leave me flatline? (Flatline)
Cause when I hit you, you don't even reply (Reply)
How could you pull the plug and leave me flatline?

✩

Not breathing, what is it I'm not seeing
Said she's leaving, damn I can't believe it
It's like my heart's bleeding knowing that you don't need me
Shut my heart down, now I don't know what Imma do now

“… i just need some space y/n” Paige said with frustration, a sigh coming after. Y/n’s heart dropped.

It all started an hour and a half ago.

Paige went out with her teammates after a late night practice, forgetting that y/n was waiting on her phone call that she promised she would do after practice.

After she came home, she was bombarded with messages from Y/n. 8 to be exact.

y/n💍

hey did you finish practice?

- 8:15PM

you ready?

- 8:18PM

paige?

- 8:20PM

paigeeeeeeee???

- 8:30PM

pbabyyyy

- 8:35PM

pls tell me u didn’t forget

- 8:45PM

paige are you fucking kidding me

- 9:45PM

it’s our anniversary

- 9:45PM

call me when you get home and make sure you’re not busy

- 9:50PM

And when she called, the yelling happened. It was the first fight they’ve had in a while. While Y/n finally exploded demanding to know what’s happening with her, Paige only had one thing to say.

“I think we should take a break”

“What?” Y/n whispered after a long pause.

“i’m not ready to be in a relationship Y/n/n, i’m still questioning what i want, and i don’t know if its you yet.” Paige said. “I’m sorry, i just need some space Y/n”

Y/n heart dropped, she didn’t know what to say or think. While Y/n knew that not everything lasted, Paige was a sure thing. Paige was her lifeline. What was she going to do?.

Y/n gulped and said the only thing she knew she could say “It’s okay”.

‘It’s okay?’ Paige was taken back. Had Y/n want to breakup before?, and then Paige shockingly felt hurt in her chest, her stomach slightly dropped. Why was she feeling like this? why isn’t she feeling relief?. This has been on Paiges mind for the past 3 months, wasn’t this the solution?

“Go be a superstar but don’t expect me to wait for you while you figure out what you want to do” Y/n said, her voice sweet. Not even a slight tone of bitterness.

Y/n still wasn’t able to move from her spot on the kitchen counter. Tears were streaming down her face, and before a sob sound could come, she hung up the phone. All Y/n knew was Paige, but know she didn’t even know that.

She had literally left her clueless, without her lifeline. now flatline.

✩

- 5 MONTHS LATER -

Paige stood there, watching from her afar.

“That’s her?” a croatian accent asked. She felt Nika sit beside her. “Yeah” Paige answered still in awe of her.

“She’s really pretty” Nika said. Paige nodded agreeing with her. She was wearing a flowy white short summer dress with cowboy boots.

It was Drews birthday today, and as the team had some off time, Drew invited them to his barbecue party. And the weekend before his birthday, he ran into Y/n. Of course the boy was oblivious to the breakup and while he asked still asked Paige for Y/n, she didn’t have the heart to tell him that they broke up.

So when Drew begged Y/n to come to his birthday party, Y/n didn’t know what else to say but yes. He could literally get whatever he wanted out of everyone.

At first, Y/n debated if she should just call Paiges stepmom and cancel, or she should just go and pray that Paige couldn’t make it.

Well, Paige had come. And so did the rest of the huskies. When Y/n saw them, she sighed. Although she was friends with Azzi, she didn’t know the rest of them, but by the look on their faces when she came in, she knew that Paige had told them her history.

Azzi, being the sweetheart she is, excitedly came running to Y/n and hugging her tight. The whole party they caught up with each other, with Azzi telling her about Uconn and Y/n telling her about studying abroad. For the past 30 minutes they’ve been talking, not once have either of them mentioned Paige.

Y/n turned, meeting Paiges eyes. The two of them made eye contact with each other again. Y/n then heard Azzi laughed, when she snapped her head to look at her friend. She saw a small teasing smile on her face. “Don’t even start” Y/n said, glaring at her. She got up and made her way to the other side of the backyard, where there was no Paige in sight.

“Y/n/n” she heard a child scream. Drew was suddenly hugging her legs. “Hi Drewsky” she laughed, beginning to tickle him. She felt the boy starting to laugh, and start to kick her hands away, while Paige and her were together, Drew became a big part in their relationship. Paiges parents often made Paige babysit Drew, and Y/n just tagged along. Through that time, Drew and Y/n became close, Y/n considered him as a baby brother. She would miss him.

“Paigeyy help me” Drew screamed laughing. Y/n became stiff, the hair behind her neck stood. She could feel her ex behind her as she let the little boy go and stand up.

Paige and Y/n stared at one another. Paige was thankful her teammates weren’t around right now, they would be on her ass all day after this.

“Hi” Y/n whispered, looking away from her and to the ground.

“Hey” Paige said back. “How’ve you been-“

“Paige please no small talk, what do you want?” Y/n cut her off. This was already awkward enough, no need to make it even more.

“Uh” Paige stuttered, a sigh coming after. “I missed you” Paige admitted. Y/n’s blood boiled, now she missed me?

Paige could sense Y/n anger, she placed a hand on Y/n elbow, tugging her from leaving. “Please just wait” Paige pleaded “I’m sorry, i just didn’t know what to do i kept having all of this kind of feelings and i know i was busy but i swear just one more chance-“

“Paige” y/n cut her off

“- and i’ll promise i’ll try harder-“ paige continued

“-stop-“ she tried to stop her

“please just give me one more chance”

“-okay” she agreed. Paiges eyes went wide, she didn’t think she would get her to agree that easy.

“I only needed you to apologize P, i only want you to make some time for me thats all. And if were really trying this again you have to be sure you want this because i don’t know if i can handle loosing you again” She said still looking at the ground.

Paiges heart dropped hearing her voice break. Although she knew how Y/n felt, Paige had been nothing but moody,grumpy and miserable these past few months. Seeing Y/n today, brought her hope that she had a second shot with her.

Y/n slowly picked up her head, and looked up at Paige. Paige was jaw dropping hot, and she knew that, her head couldn’t get any bigger by her ego.

Paige reached a hand towards her waist, pulling Y/n towards her. When she did, she slowly dropped a sweet kiss on her girlfriends lips, when she pulled away, her forehead dropped to Y/n’s.

She felt like she could finally breathe, her chest no longer hurt. She had her lifeline back.

✩

[jaal-ama-daravv]

dissecting act 3 & emmrichs final romance scene (mortal & lich)

dissecting the graveyard scene dissecting the mortal romance path scene dissecting the mortal emmrich argument scene (all routes) emmrich x rook cinematic (mortal)

lich version dissecting the alternate romance path dissecting the argument scene (lich path) dissecting the emmrich romance scene (lich) mortal vs lich romance path emmrich x rook cinematic

look this is half a thirst trap post im not gonna lie to ya

ACT 3 - OH MY GOD.

Now. We all know that dreaded argument scene that fills us with angst and really gets us in our feelings for the final 4 hours. which was 100% done on purpose, thanks bioware, you succeeded. i did in fact regret that conversation and cried immensely

We have the argument with Emmrich, then we have our mini resolution of Emmrich trying to apologise, and Rook responding with, "We'll talk back home Emmrich, I promise."

Fast forward an hour, and ive just about pulled the plug because emmrich gets trapped by Ghil, someone dies, and then we are sucked into the fade - trapped. FOR WEEKS.

I truly wish bioware included flashbacks, or rook being able to see the lighthouse whilst they were trapped so that we see our LI panic, and fret. Can you imagine Emmrich? The last conversation they had was a fight, and a fight that stemmed from love at that. regardless of the route you took, both rook and emmrich regret that argument deeply. I mean deeply. And most likely regret not saying, i love you in that moment. or any moment. god when emmrich got sucked up by ghil i was locked IN. nothing was stopping me.

Emmrich wouldn't of been able to sleep, he wouldn't of been eating, he would've been working day AND night like a dog on the dagger. he wouldve been irritable, he wouldve been incessant, he wouldn't of been put together, not clean shaven. id bet money on this.

despite bioware not giving us a good reconciliation scene or a glimpse at what happend during those weeks - BOY DID THEY FUCKING EAt with the pulling you out of the fade section. Oh my god. Emmrich's voice being timed right after Varric saying with "You have everything you need", AND THEN PULLING YOU OUT OF THE FADE WITH HIS ARM.

anyway - AFTER T H A T.

You have the romance scene (mortal dissection | lich dissection)

and then my god - i have no words - literally - just look

goodbye ovaries

The Final Goodbye (Mortal/Lich)

Now these are the exact same for both mortal and lich, ill tell you when its different below - to which this is dissapointing as I feel like the final romance scene is so 'meh'? it's very idk, scripted. I feel like there needs to be a dip in emmrichs voice when he says i love you to rook - maybe its just me, but regardless, its meh meh to me. the whole scene is just kinda -

I'll skip to the romance part anyway as there is nothing of substance in the first half

1. I love you, too.

I feel like - underwhelmed with this response. its just slapped on like a bumpersticker

2. I'm glad we met.

I cannot believe that this line of dialogue is hidden beneath the most basic of thought processes - i love it

its emotonal - its hopeful

YESSSS - PLAN WITH ME!!!! This is digustingly impactful if playing the mortal path. the man has hope for the future. oh I need not say more for its delivered so wonderfully.

HEHE

3. Be safe. I can't lose you.

I thoroughly enjoy this path, I feel so much emotion from Rook and Emmrich in these lines. the worry, the love. although it is kind of a shock to the system because we still went from. OH MY GOD DEATH, to oh yeah death with Emmrich.

exactly how the argument scene should've went, BUT, I get it, now if only we had a reconciliation scene in the middle or a conversation, i'd have no notes and be out of business

Now here is the divergence, of like two lines, that occurrs directly after the above dialogue

Lich Version

Mortal Version

its sweet, its sensual, its loving. but there no oomf. theres no, fear. the mortal version is my preference here as I like the slight reminder of emmrich being alive. in saying that, considering what we have been enamored with and reminded of at every single quest of his. but in the last romance dialogue its, gone? the fear overcome? one line, one word makes a difference. idk man. like I have my full speculation that there is a sequel with rook and companins again, and if there is ill let this go. but if this is it, WITH no epilogue screen? please, as much as i like fanfiction and headcanons and art. id like it IN the game.

a fantastic romance, but a stale last conversation. IN SAYING THAT. I choose to look past it as much as possible as it is sweet and I just love him.

ANYWAY, love you all, im pen for questions and the full emmrich dissection with all my very detailed explantions is coming in a few days

♥

[coichii]

SNOWMAN ✭

—(🎧)—> you visit your best friend in Incheon again after 4 years, leaving with a burning feeling of loneliness and guilt. It doesn’t help that you’ve been in love with him since you were little, and the those feelings haven’t melted away at all.

pairing - childhoodbsf!han x fem!reader

genre - friends to ??, more angsty than fluff BY FAR

word count - 2.2k

warnings - accidental le sserafim reference (iykyk), starts with like no dialogue whoops, cursing, probably too much angst.

series note : hello !! welcome to part five of my winter series, “winter records of love” where there will be 8 individual short stories for each member :) these stories are based off of songs I deem “winter” feeling ! this story is based off of “snowman” by Sia. enjoy <3

1570 days.

It has been 1570 days since you last stepped foot in Incheon, the city you had grown up in and spent all of your childhood.

It wasn’t easy to leave; saying goodbye to the one and only place you could call home. The smells of fresh bread sold by local vendors were instead replaced by the muck of New York City, having to go there for your abroad program.

However, it wasn’t the local taste that you would end up missing the most. No, instead it was him.

You can’t even remember when you became Han’s friend, probably some time in early pre-k. You two were inseparable, doing anything and everything together. From the sandbox to the 9-5.

He was so happy for you when you mentioned you had got accepted into your dream college, but his heart dropped and tears fell when you said it was in the states.

He was excited for you of course. You’re his best friend, how could he not be? But he’s not going to lie about the queasy feeling he got in his stomach when he thought of never seeing you again.

He couldn’t help the tears that sprung in his eyes when he thought about the possibility of you forgetting him. Couldn’t help migraine when thinking about you falling in love with someone but him. But he couldn’t stop you.

All he could do was drive you to the airport that one, rainy and cloudy day you left him, giving you one last tight hug before you left him. He felt like him letting you out of his grasp that day was the biggest mistake he had ever made.

You guys never stopped talking, of course. It was hard to talk with the time differences, but you always made time for each other. To be honest, you were up at 3am doing homework anyway, so what’s the harm in letting an energetic quokka ramble to you at 5pm.

Seeing Jisung grow in his career, as an idol, as a person, and not being able to be there are at you in a way you had never experienced. You couldn’t help the tears that sprung in your eyes when you thought about the possibility of him forgetting you. Couldn’t help migraine when thinking about him falling in love with someone but you.

You knew something he didn’t though. He was working away dance practice with the boys, thinking you were sleeping away the early hours of the morning. He couldn’t have been more wrong.

You were currently piling off a plane heading from JFK to Incheon, a long, grueling 15hr flight. It would all be worth it though, getting to see the love of you li— best friend after so long could heal everything in you.

You actually organized some of this with one of your other friends before you moved, Chris. He helped arrange you a place to stay after you landed, which after this flight and dark, winter sky, you couldn’t be more grateful for.

—

new message from : chan 🐺

chan 🐺 : did you land yet?

you : just did, I’m heading to baggage claim !!

chan 🐺 : okay, that’s good

chan 🐺 : I have everything prepared for you when you get to the hotel

chan 🐺 : just tell them I booked it

you : thank you so much, chris 🥲

chan 🐺 : no problem, y/n ☺️

—

You go through baggage claim, heart racing in the crowds of people. It wasn’t the anxiety of crowded places in this case. No, it was the excitement of seeing him for the first time in years.

The taxi ride is long and tiring, your eyes fluttering closed spontaneously as the driver brought you to the hotel.

You didn’t forget to tip them generous tip as you made it to the hotel chan had booked for you. It’s nice, obviously popular and rather big.

It’s no trouble booking in, making it to your room and plopping down on the bed almost immediately, not bothering to change your clothes.

In your dreams, you find yourself with him. The feeling of floating on a cloud as you hold him in your warm grasp is euphoric, making you miss the days where he would hold you in the same comforting embrace.

It’s only a couple of hours before you can see him again.

◂—♥︎—▸

It’s now 7pm the next day. You’ve spent the day preparing yourself to see him again, waiting impatiently in the lobby.

It’s around the time he would be getting out of dance rehearsals, the building emptying out rather quickly. You even saw one of your old friends there too, Yuna, an idol you had met a little before moving when visiting with Han. The nostalgia hits hard, vision quickly turning blurry as you get word from Chris that he’s heading down now.

There, you see him.

He turns the corner, beautiful silky hair floating on his face like a halo. His eyes are like boba as he makes his way down the lobby’s hallways.

He turns his head, scanning the various faces on the sides, stopping and staring at a particular section.

There, he sees you.

“Uh. Hey, hannie.” You stammer, suddenly shy at his dropped jaw and shocked eyes. “It’s been a whi-“

You can finish your sentence as your suddenly tackled on the bench, Han stuffing his head deep into the crook of your neck. People are staring and whispering, but you couldn’t care less. All you care about is seeing him again.

“H-holy fuck. Y-yn, is it r-really you?” He whimpers, and you can feel his tears wetting your shoulders as he holds you.

He holds you as if you could slip through his fingers at any time, like you’re a delicate snowflake that can just melt away in a flash.

“Yes, yes, Hanji. It’s me.” You chuckle, but hot tears are filling your eyes as you do so. You stroke his soft hair as he starts to calm down, melting into your warm touch.

“W-why didn’t you tell me you were coming.” You coo as he continues to cry, him finally looking up at your face as if he has to convince himself that you’re really there, that you’re really you.

“I wanted it to be a surprise.” You giggle as Han wipes a stray tear from your cheek, leaning in to his touch as he pouts.

“Did anyone else know?” He asks, eye contact not ceasing.

“Only channie. He helped me plan this.” And Han groans at plants his face back into your neck.

“I’m going to kick his ass for not letting me know.” He mutters, voice blurred by your warm skin. You giggle, moving on of your hands from his head to his back.

“I thought I’d never see you again.” He mumbles, and you can feel your heart shattering into tiny, fragile shards.

“Oh, Hannie. But I’m here now aren’t I.” He whimpers in response, burying his face deeper into your chest.

The lobby is empty now, only stragglers walking through the hallways of the building. You can hear the sounds of the coffee machine whirring, its sounds blending in with the ambiance of the vacant room.

His breathing evens out and you sigh.

Wow, you really missed him.

◂—♥︎—▸

“What do you mean you’re only staying for the month?” Han asks, eyes sparkling

You were seated together in his studio. He had just shown you around the new JYPE building, it had been forever since you’ve been there.

You had to tell him; the guilt was burning at you. He looked so excited, so happy. You wanted to keep that same feeling, but you knew you had to go home— go back to the states within a month.

What were you thinking. That place wasn’t home, here is. Here in Korea with him was always home.

“I’m sorry hannie, but I have to.” You feel pathetic that that’s all you can say, all you can offer him. You can’t conceal the tears that fall down your own face, their pace quickening as a strangled whimper leaves his throat.

“I thought you were going to stay for longer.” He sounds so defeated, like a squeak toy that’s been used too much. It pains you. You wish you could stay for longer—no. You wish you could stay forever.

You can’t look in his eyes, choosing to look out the window at the frozen crystals that dance across the sky, the wind blowing them in all directions. You feel as helpless as them; just being blown in the wind of emotions and feelings.

“I wish I could stay forever, Han. But I can’t, I’m so so sorry.” You sob, breathe quickening and becoming uneven.

“Please don’t cry, y/n. I’m sorry. I’m just happy you can be here for the time you are.” He pulls you into his grasp, running comforting fingers over your skin.

You know he’s sorry for making you cry, but you feel the guilt again.

The guilt of leaving him by himself for more years to come.

“Wanna go out? Make the best of it while we can?” He asks, your head peering up at his, causing his own heart to break. The parallel makes you chuckle dryly; just the other day you were doing this to him as he cried about missing you, now you’re crying about missing him.

“Yeah. Just give me a second to calm down.” And he smiles, pushing your hair out of your starry eyes.

“Of course, I wasn’t going to let you go out like this anyways.” You can tell he’s trying to lighten the mood, so you let him.

“Oh? So I don’t look good right now?” You snicker, pushing off him playfully. He shakes his head no, stifling in a laugh.

“Ok then. Guess you’re not taking me anywhere.” You threaten playfully, and his boba eyes expand.

“No, no I’m playing. You look beautiful always y/n.” Your cheeks flush up and the sudden compliment.

It’s been a while since you’ve been that close, so hearing him compliment you like that erupted butterflies in your stomach.

“Thank you hanji.” You blush, hiding your face in your hands. “I’m ready.”

“Cmon then. Let’s go.”

◂—♥︎—▸

“So, this is really it, huh?”

You’ve spent practically every day with him this month, whether that be waiting back stage for him to finish performances or going out to go eat lunch, yukgaejang warming your belly from the harsh, winter weather.

Soft touches littered throughout your conversations, intense eye contact that you hadn’t experienced in forever. The chemistry was unmatched.

But there you stood, wind blowing and raising goose bumps on your skin as you stared emptily at the airport. It’s the same one in Incheon that you had arrived in, but it’s not the same feelings.

Instead of the feeling of excitement and happiness, all you could feel was sadness and regret.

You weren’t sure where the regret was coming from. You could never regret visiting him, even though it was for a small time.

Maybe it’s the feeling of knowing he’ll be alone again, after all, this is the same airport he dropped you off at those four years ago.

The memory haunts you like a poltergeist, the look of tears that were on his face stuck in your mind permanently.

And look where you are now, standing infront of the same terminal, looking at the same sight again on his face.

“I guess so.” He chuckles, but there’s no humor behind it.

The sound of the speakers distracts you. It’s a lady on it, sounding hapy as she announces that the plane is now boarding. You don’t know how she can sound so happy, after all, you’re not sure you will be feeling that way for the next couple of weeks.

“I’m sorry, Hanji. I wish I could stay longer.” You choke up, moving to hug him, hurrying your face into his chest as tears wet his shirt.

“Shhh, it’s okay y/n. We’ll never be apart, yeah?” He comforts, running his hands on your hair.

“Yah, y/n. You’re supposed to be the one comforting me, not the other way around.” He jokes, tilting your head up towards him to flash you a silly smile.

“We’ll always be together. Even if you’re in New york, or Chicago, or wherever the fuck you could be.” He wipes away a tear from your cheek as one falls down his.

“I’ll always l-love you. And we’ll always be us.” He’s kissing you then, and all the sounds of crowds melt away as he does so.

You wrap your arm around his neck, allowing him to pull you in deeper. It all feels so… so right. Tears melting together sweetly, as you lose yourselves in eachother.

It’s a long while before you pull away, distracted by the sound of the final boarding call announcement being made.

“I love you too, hannie.” You turn around, pushing your small tote bag further up your shoulder from where it had slipped. “I guess this is goodbye then.”

“No. See you later.” He grabs your hand one last time, bringing it up to his lips to leave one, lingering kiss. Pulling away was the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do before.

“See you later, Hanji.”

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Chapter 4: You Want to Live Where?

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary:  When you decided to work with Butcher and his merry band of supe hunters to take down Homelander, you neve expected to be saddled with a sullen, grumpy, jerk like Soldier Boy when the job was done. The more you're around him the more you hate him, but you can't help but wonder, is he really as big a jerk as you think? Reader is a supe with plant powers. This takes place in an AU about a month after the end of The Boys Season 3, in which Butcher has let Soldier Boy continue to work with him on his team.  (I'm real bad at summaries, please forgive me!)

Tropes: Enemies to Lovers (Not in this chapter), Slow Burn, Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Protective Ben/ Soldier Boy.

Word Count: 7.6K

Warnings: I'm going to label this 18+ because Soldier Boy (he's a warning and everyone knows it), swearing, mentions of sex, sexual innuendo, sexual tension. Ben/Soldier Boy might be a little bit OOC.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

Spotify Playlist 🪴

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

You lay down the $2.50 map of NYC that you bought at the bodega next door to Butcher's apartment building on the giant threadbare wooden table that serves as the group dining room table.  Everyone was still in Jersey, for what reason you didn't know, but it meant that the apartment was silent.

Aka. Ben wasn't here to drive you to murder.

After Annie and you had said goodbye, she went back to Vought Tower because Ashley had called and complained about something that you couldn't hear over the sounds of the city outside the coffee shop. You were hoping that she'd text you later to dish about Ashley's probably insane request. While you kept your promise to Butcher about plotting out where the carjackings were happening and noting the auto shops nearby.

He had left you the complete lists of where the cars were stolen, what time, and how many. It was your job to mark them on the map and see if any of them were like the others. He was getting frustrated with how little the team could find on the electric wielding supe who was jacking cars, and you wanted to help out as much as you could. In a few days you were going to go to the auto shops in the same area to see if anyone heard anything about him.

Best case scenario someone would give you a lead, worst case scenario you were back to square one.

You lean down over the table, making the first mark on the map where the initial carjacking took place. It was at the top of the map which meant that you were practically laying on top of the table to reach.

The door to the apartment behind you opened but you didn’t think about it, too absorbed in making the correct tick mark.

"Don't stop on my account Doll." You hear Ben's low rumble break through the silence of the apartment.

You fight the urge to audibly groan when you realize that he's back from Jersey and here to make your life a living hell.

You stand up and turn around to face him. He’s wearing his Soldier Boy suit, standing  inside the front door and looking just as handsome as he always does, as much as you hate to admit that. He's got some soot smeared just under his left eye, and the left sleeve of his suit is singed, but other than that he looks okay.

“I thought you wouldn’t be back for at least another hour-“ You begin to say, but Ben interrupts.

“I missed you Petals.” He smirks wider, setting his shield down against the base of the kitchen counter. “You and that perfect ass of yours.”

“Where is everyone else?”

“Fuck if I know. After I bagged the supe I didn’t ask questions.” He shrugs moving into the kitchen to pour himself a drink.

You roll your eyes and turn back to the map laying on the table, making another tick with the red marker in your hand where a car was stolen, but avoid bending over the table. “So which supe did you go after? The electric guy?”

“No this girl had fire shit coming out of her hands.”

"Oh guess you've got a new girlfriend, huh Gramps? Though I will say you definitely have a type. First Countess and now-"

"Jealous?" Ben responds from right next to you.

You weren’t expecting him to be so close, so close in fact that you could practically feel the heat of his skin through the air between the two of you from where he leans over the table looking at the map. It immediately reminds you of this morning when he pinned you to the counter, how his body felt pressed against yours, and how his gaze seemed to hold you in place. His eyes really were beautiful, more green than you'd ever seen anyone have, but you were biased because your favorite color was green for obvious reasons.

“You’re doing it again Sweetheart.” Ben smirks, his eyes shifting to where you pretend to study the map with a newfound fascination.

Don't look at him. Don't look at him. Don't look at him.

"Doing what?" You ask making another tick on the map as you go down the list Butcher made last night when you were researching.

"Thinking about fucking me." Ben says.

"No I'm not." You reply tapping the map with your red pen.

"You're a terrible liar doll. It's what I love about you." He laughs, but then takes a sip from his glass. "Um." Ben pauses. "How was your day?" Ben says it slowly, awkwardly, like it's difficult for him.

"What?" You turn to look at him, surprised.

"How was your day?" He repeats. Ben's green eyes are shining in the soft light coming from the lamps lit around the apartment, his dark hair softly curling around the back of his ears. Again you're struck by how normal he looks. Because despite wearing his supe suit, Ben looks relaxed, calm, sipping from the amber liquid in the glass like he belongs here and not forty years ago.

"Why are you asking me that?"

You were confused. Ben had never asked you about your day never seemed to care about how you were. You remember earlier when Ben asked if you would be at the apartment later, like he genuinely wanted to know what you were doing.

This is weird.

Ben shrugs.

"It was okay." You say slowly, narrowing your eyes in suspicion. "I fixed a shipment of African Violets-"

"African what?"

"African Violets." You answer. "It's a flowering plant, has fuzzy leaves. We always sell out of them. I have some in the windows at my apartment."

"The purple ones?" Ben interrupts.

He noticed that?

"Yeah." You blink in surprise. "And I got coffee with Annie."

Where she mocked me endlessly for kissing you and liking it.

"Did Hughie go with you two? Kinda seems like he doesn't do much without her say so." Ben laughs at his own joke, the ice in his glass clinking against the sides as he tilts it back to catch the last few drops. "Poor bastard's pussy whipped."

You can't help, but snort. You knew how Annie seemed to have a bit of a hold on Hughie, but where Ben saw Hughie as being "pussy whipped" you saw Hughie as being in love with Annie and willing to do things for her.

"No he didn't come with us and I think that he'd disagree and say that he loves Annie. When you were with Countess didn't you guys do anything together?"

"We did lots of things together." Ben's eyes darken slightly. "Things I wouldn't mind showing you."

You shake your head at him and nudge his shoulder. "Come on. You didn't go on dates or anything?"

You were probably crossing a border by asking Ben about Countess. You'd never asked him about her before, had heard about how the relationship exploded, LITERALLY.

Not to mention she was probably the closest to love that Ben had ever come. Maybe you were just curious, curious if Ben had actually cared about her, if he'd actually had feelings or if it had been a lie.

Ben hesitates for a second. "Why do you care?"

"Just making conversation." You look back down at the map noting the streets that run within the circle of carjackings.

It can't be a coincidence given how many auto shops there are within this circle. Someone has to know what’s been going on.

He hesitates and you wonder if that’s because it’s painful to talk about her or painful for him to open up. "Once or twice." Ben says finally. "We didn't really do that."

"Oh."

"We went to premieres and fucked a lot." Ben doesn't seem that disappointed by it, as if he thinks that is what a healthy relationship should be.

Didn't need to know that. What else did I expect? He said that he wasn't into emotions earlier today of course he doesn't care about that. He's so confusing. He told Hughie that he loved her and that he wanted to have kids with her, how is that born from going to premieres and fucking? Kinda feels like you'd need to spend more time together and have deeper conversations for that to happen right? You know what? I'm not gonna judge his relationship, maybe they had a great connection or whatever.

You think about your only serious relationship which was 7 months with your high school boyfriend Newton. You thought that you loved him, and then he broke your heart. But Newton and you had done more than go on one or two dates, it had been a relationship, you had depended on him, told him things about yourself that you didn't tell anyone else.

"How about you?" Ben's fingers trace one of the roads along the map.

"How about me what?" You put another 'x' over another place where there was another carjacking.

"Have you ever been in a relationship or have you just been waiting around for Jake to fuck you?"

"I don't want him to fuck me-"

"Sorry. You want him to make love to you." Ben says make love like it's a curse word.

"You're not making me want to share anything about my life with you."

"Come on Petals, I shared my deepest darkest secrets with you." He nudges you with his elbow.

"I wouldn’t say that you telling me that you and Countess fucked and went to a premiere together is your 'deepest darkest secrets.'" You make air quotes with your free hand. "But, I’ve only had one serious relationship and it was in high school."

"And?" Ben presses

"It was 7 months lasted just until he went to college. What else do you want me to tell you?"

"Why did it end?" Ben pours himself a new glass of whiskey.

"Why does that matter?"

"Come on doll."

"I-" You bite the inside of your cheek in contemplation. I can't believe I'm about to say this. "He wasn't a supe and when I finally told him that I was a supe he didn't react appropriately and I locked him in a tree." You make another tick on the map.

"You locked the fucker in a tree?" Ben snorts into his glass.

"Yep."

"Why?"

"Because he asked me if I could shapeshift and made a few comments about my body." You say it quietly more to the map than to Ben.

Ben's hand gently comes under your chin turning your face towards him. He looks pissed, his green eyes dark as he gazes down at you. "What did he say about your body?" Ben's voice is more of a growl than anything else.

His touch was gentle, almost caring, and he’d never tried to do that before.

"Nothing worth repeating-"

"Tell me." Ben breathes. "Please."

"Just that I could lose a few pounds and make myself a little more busty."

Ben doesn’t move. His jaw clenches tightly, muscles tensed, eyes hardening. “He said that to you?”

You nod because you’re not sure what to say. Ben was acting different all over again.

“Fuck him. He’s wrong.” Ben says, voice tight. “He’s an insignificant asshole who didn’t understand how to speak to a woman and who deserved to be locked in a tree. Hell, if I had been there I would have beat him with a tree.”

“I’m not exactly sure you know how to speak to a woman either Ben.” You crack a smile remembering every time that Ben had made an inappropriate comment to you.

“Well I’d never call a woman fat. And he must have been blind because you have the most perfect body-“

“Shut up.”  You roll your eyes at him, but all he does is grin.

Ben stands there for a minute, still holding on to your chin, his skin burning through yours where the two of you are touching. Your eyes shift down to his lips for a millisecond thinking about how soft they were last night and Ben clocks the movement.

You wonder if he wants to kiss you as much as you want to kiss him. If he's remembering the kiss you shared with him last night, if it felt as good for him as it did for you, because it couldn't have been just you.

You hated seeing this side of Ben because it constantly gave you whiplash.

Was he a jerk or was he actually deeper than you thought and he locked it all underneath the macho bullshit?

You pull back, letting his hand fall from your chin to continue working on the map, but can’t fight the way you miss his touch against your skin.

An awkward silence follows and you keep looking at the list that Butcher gave you to avoid looking at Ben, going down the list with the marker checking them off. Because you knew if you looked at him again you would definitely try to kiss him and after what he just said to you, you really wanted to.

Deep down you wonder if that was him trying to connect with you, trying to not be such a jerk or if he was changing tactics to try and get you to sleep with him, just like when he remembered how much you liked ABBA.

There's no way that he actually pays that much attention to me, that he actually cares enough, right?

Finally you ask. "How was your day?" It comes out hesitant, as if you can't really form the words. Honestly it was weird to ask him something so mundane, without it being sarcastic. Saying anything was weird after the moment the two of you just shared.

"Better now that I got to see you doll." Ben catches your eye with a wide smirk, slipping into old habits.

Why do I even try to-

"It was okay." He follows up with a shrug. "Firey bitch got a few hits in."

You glance over at where his suit is singed over his left arm, and then raise your eyes to the soot smeared under his left eye, wondering if it actually burned his skin. "Are you okay?"

Sometimes it was easy to forget that he was almost indestructible. And after all the tapes that you'd seen of Ben being tortured in Russia, you did hate it when he got hurt. He didn’t deserve that, not after what he'd been through.

"I'm a little harder to roast alive, but I like that you worry about me." Ben leans further towards you, so close that his breath tickles the right side of your neck.

"I'm not worried about you." You turn to glare at him.

"You know when you lie you get this little scrunch right here." Ben's finger gently touches the space between your eyebrows making your face turn bright red. "It's cute."

"Don't touch me."

“I think you like it when I touch you.”

“No I don’t.”

I do.

“Then why does your heart start beating a little faster when I do?” Ben smirks as if he thinks he’s caught you.

“To pump all the hate faster through my body.”  You snap. You move around the table to the other side to get further away from him and his stupid perfect face. “And if you couldn’t tell I’m working on something and I’d like to be done with it soon so I can go home.”

“You sure you don’t want to take a break? I’ve got to take a shower. Might help you relax a bit.”

“I’m perfectly relaxed!” You snap back, crushing the writing utensil in your hand. 

Ben looks from the ruined red marker in your hand that drips ink down your skin and then back up at you. “Are you? Because that pen says otherwise.”

"Don’t you have anything else to do? Like get someone pregnant with Homelander 2.0?” You say, wiping the ink from the pen on an old rag that hangs from one of the chairs.

At the mention of his son, the expression on Ben's face turn murderous, and you can't help but feel a little guilty. It was a low blow. You hadn’t meant to bring him up, but Ben always had a way of getting under your skin worse than anyone else. Ben never talked about him or brought him up in conversation. You knew why. Ben might not have said it aloud, but you saw how he acted whenever his son was brought up in conversation, how he seemed just a little more tense than usual and almost a little more quiet.  You knew that he was hurt by what had happened even if he didn’t want to admit it.

You figured that finding out that he had a son that was made in a lab without his permission was enough of a slap in the face, not to mention the whole thing about Homelander being the replacement for him and being the reason why his team was "allowed" to stab him in the back and send him to Russia in the first place.

Fuck.

"I didn't mean that Ben. I'm sorry." You say touching his wrist before you can stop yourself. As much as you didn't get along with him, he didn't deserve to be reminded of something like that.

"Why the fuck should I care?" Ben yanks his wrist back from you, his tone harsher, no longer teasing. The humor is gone from his eyes and the guilt builds in your chest as you look up at him.

"Because I know that you're still a little upset about everything that happened with Vought and Homelander and-"

"Who the fuck do you think you're talking to?" Ben spits moving around the table to tower over you.

It's the first time you'd ever seen him really mad at you, the only other time was when you met for the first time and he tried to rip you in half, but got a face full of tree branch instead, the night Homelander finally got put on ice.

"I'm not some fucking pussy that talks about their feelings or someone who gives a fuck about anyone else." He continues, eyes blazing. "I don't give a fuck about feelings or emotions or any of that shit. So do me a favor Sweetheart, don't put me on a fucking white horse, don't romanticize me, and don't turn me into something I'm not. Because the only thing that I want from any woman is to fuck them. Don’t forget it." Ben pushes past you to go to his room, slamming the door so hard the entire apartment shakes.

Well that went well.

By the time you finish the map and make a complete list of all the auto shops contained within the large circle you marked on the map when you connected where the car jackings were happening, everyone was back and Ben was gone.

He had left about thirty minutes after he yelled at you, didn't look in your direction once as he stomped out the door of the apartment wearing his signature leather jacket and dark t-shirt jeans combo.

You assumed he had a tinder date or he was just trying to get away from all the noise. Bagging the supe had definitely  boosted morale. Even Butcher seemed less moody than usual, the dark cloud that hung over him dissipating for a few hours while everyone laughed and ate greasy pizza.

But despite the happy atmosphere in the apartment, you couldn’t help but think of Ben. Yes he yelled at you, but you shouldn't have brought up Homelander. It wasn't your business and Ben might have tried to cover up what he was feeling with his usual angry, loud, and sexually forward advances, but you could see that he did have emotions, he just tried to hide them.

He just needs to drop the bullshit macho attitude.

You didn’t think that it was weak for a man to show his emotions, if anything you thought that it showed emotional maturity and it was nice to meet a man who was actually open about what he was feeling rather than keeping it locked away and repressed.

Sometimes you thought you could see the man that Ben was, when everything was quiet and it was the two of you, but then he'd make a pass at you or revert back into whatever the hell kind of person he was a few hours ago when he yelled at you for apologizing.

For APOLOGIZING of all things.

You walked back to your apartment quickly and quietly, taking note of the place that is overgrown with weeds where you had fought the muggers last night. The bodies were gone now and you wondered if they were at the hospital or in prison. The blood stains on the ground where Ben beat the man were still on the pavement, and again you thought whether or not the man was alive.

You doubted it.

When you round the corner and approach your apartment building you notice that someone is sitting on the front steps, but you don’t pay any attention to it, you just continue to walk forward.

“Hey Petals.” Ben leans back on the steps smoking a blunt. His hair is more tousled than usual as if someone has run their fingers through it and you assume that the reason why he left earlier is because he had a “date.”

You watch the way the thick darkened strands lay on his head, admiring how it looks in the light that comes from the street lights that line the sidewalk. You were trying not think about how it would feel to brush the strands back from his face, to twist your fingers in his hair.

No. Not thinking about that right now.

“What are you doing here Gramps?” You cross your arms over your chest and use his nickname to offset the annoyance you feel when he calls you 'Petals.'

“Well I left some clothes here this morning and thought I’d come up to get them.”

“I can just bring them to the apartment-“

“You could.” He interrupts, taking a hit from the joint. “But I didn’t want to put you out.”

“How chivalrous of you, but aren't you the guy who forced me to let him crash on my couch yesterday?”

“Well I could have slept in the bed with you, but you were so adamant about me ‘respecting your boundaries.’”

"Thanks." You force a smile. "Fine, you can come up for two minutes-"

"If you make it 10, I promise I'll make it worth your while." Ben's lips pull into a mischievous smirk around the blunt perched between his lips.

You roll your eyes and pass him as you go up the concrete steps, feeling his gaze on your ass the whole time.

When you finally get up to your apartment Bean greets you at the door, purring loudly and rubbing against your ankles. You stoop down to pet him, running your fingers through his thick gray fur.

“Hey buddy. You missed me huh?” Bean purrs louder and pushes his neck into your fingertips to signal you to keep scratching him.

Ben walks past you to the couch where his clothes are waiting but instead of picking them up, he sits down and grabs the tv remote before propping his feet up on your coffee table.

“What are you doing?” You look up at him.

“One of my old films is playing tonight. Thought you’d want to watch it.” The tip of the blunt burns bright red like a beacon in your apartment.

“No. The only thing I want is for you to leave.” 

Ben huffs out a cloud of smoke. “Look I know you like me-“

“I don’t.”

“You do.” He smiles. “So why can’t I stay here?”

“Because this is my apartment!”

“I can pay half the rent if you want me to.”

“It’s not about the money-“

“Then why?”

“Because this is my home! This is where I come to get away from people. This is where I come to decompress when you piss me off! And I don’t want you to live here because you’re a huge dick, stuffed full of macho shit, who keeps trying to sleep with me!” You shout, standing from the ground to plant your hands on your hips.

Ben only smiles as if you've complimented him. "Come on, was last night all that bad? I didn't bother you-"

"Because all we did was go to bed, if you stay here, that’s you 24/7. I need a place to get away from you." You emphasize again.

"Your bedroom isn't far enough away?"

"Nope."

"Come on Petals. I'm not so bad. At least I'm nice to look at." He smiles wider.

"You're not making me want to let you stay here."

Bean saunters over and begins to rub himself on Ben's ankles, purring loudly like the traitor he is. "The cat wants me to stay." Ben quips looking up at you while he scratches Bean under his chin.

"The cat doesn't get a say." You cross your arms over your chest. “And why do you want to stay here anyway? You’ve got tons of money! You don’t exactly need a roommate. And you certainly don’t need to live back at the apartment with Butcher and the team.”

Ben frowns for a minute as if what he’s about to say next is difficult. “I just-“ He sighs. “I don’t want to live alone okay?”

“What?” You blink in shock. It was the last thing you were expecting him to say.

“The lab and all that shit-" Ben looks away from you and takes a hit from the joint. "It- fuck." He mutters it more to himself than to you, eyes leveled at the hardwood floors.

It was the first time you'd seen him look a little bit vulnerable, surprising since he'd yelled at you a few hours ago when you'd accused him of having feelings. The truth was you felt bad for Ben. He was all alone, didn't have anyone left, his old boss literally took his genetic material and made a monster, and he was stranded in a world that he didn't know anything about. And maybe he didn't want to admit it, but maybe Ben was lonely. Which made the whole bed hopping thing make sense.

You examine his posture, notice how he still won't look at you, and how he almost seems to be ashamed that he admitted that.

“I’m just not sure it’s a good idea for us to live together.” You say quietly.

“Why? Because you think I’m going to try something while you’re sleeping?” Ben looks up at you suddenly angry. “Do you really think that I’d do something like that? I mean I’m a lot of things Petals but a fucking rapist isn’t one of them.”

“No I don’t think you’d do that Ben.” It was the truth, Ben might be obnoxious and inappropriate at times, but you didn’t believe that he would ever force you to do something you didn’t want to do.

“Then why?”

“Because we don’t get along. You’re-“ You wave your hand up and down at him.

Yes I know that gesturing to all of him isn't an answer, but maybe I'm trying my best.

“I don’t know what that means.” Ben raises his eyebrows as if trying to solve the secrets of the universe.

You sigh, blowing out a breath. "I just don’t think we’re a good fit for roommates.”

“Because?”

“You’re loud, and you always have those women with you. You smoke and drink and you put your feet on my furniture! Not to mention you don’t really seem to like plants all that much-“ You gesture with your hand to the room covered in plants in different stages of growth.

“I like plants.”

“Uh-huh? What plants?”

“What?”

“What kind of plants do you like?”

Ben blinks for a second. “You’re fucking crazy.”

“That’s another thing! We drive each other crazy Gramps. I don’t think this is a good idea. Not to mention you wouldn’t have a room, you’d be out here on the couch.”

I mean did he want to sleep on that couch? It was sort of comfortable, but not live on forever comfortable.

“It’s not a bad couch?” Ben says it like a question.

“I got it free from a guy with a foot fetish, Ben. It’s a bad couch. I just-“ You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose. “You really want to live here that badly?”

“It's quieter here than it is at the other apartment."

“Nothing about Mike’s singing in the morning is quiet.” You crack a smile for the first time since you saw him sitting on your front step.

“It’s not so bad. There was this hero in the 70’s who could super screech. Fucking blew out my eardrums one time.” Ben shrugs. “Plus I don’t want you to miss me.”

Your smile drops into a frown. "I wouldn't miss you."

"I think you would doll."

You stand there for another minute considering what it would be like for him to live here.

I can't believe that I'm considering this. That would mean that he would be a pain in my ass 24/7. Him drinking, smoking, and doing God knows what on my couch. And why does he want to live on the couch anyway? It sucks. He could live anywhere he wanted and yet he wants to live here with me? Kinda feels like there's another reason for this.

"If I say yes there are some ground rules." You bite the inside of your cheek, rocking back on your heels.

"Like?"

"No sex."

Ben rolls his eyes. "I don't know why you're so against you and me-" He begins to say, but you interrupt him.

"I'm talking about you. You’re not allowed to bring any of your harem into my apartment."

“Want me all for yourself huh Petals?” Ben smirks stretching his hands back behind his head in a way that makes the end of his shirt pulls up enough for you to see the sliver of skin just at the top of his jeans and a peak of his muscular abdomen.

Keep it together, it’s just skin.

You frown at him until Ben finally sighs.

"Wouldn't it be our apartment if I lived here?" He raises an eyebrow.

"No women." You say firmly.

“Fine.”

“No going in my room under any circumstances.” You point down the darkened hallway as if he didn't know where it was.

“But what if-“

“No going in my room under any circumstances!” You repeat.

Ben mutters something under his breath.

“I’m sorry I didn’t catch that.”

“I said okay.” He grouses.

"And no killing my plants." You look at the ones growing on the coffee table where they could be easily pushed off by his large feet, narrowing your eyes.

“What if it’s an accident?”

“Too bad. And how do you accidentally kill a plant?”

“I don’t know there’s a fuck ton of them in here! I could step on one or trip. Not to mention in the shower-“ He begins to shout.

“It’s you that wants to live here! And if you want to, you have to follow my rules.”

“You really are a bossy little thing. Didn’t think you’d be into domination.” Ben cocks his head to the side examining you.

“You don’t know anything about me.”

“Because you’re so damn guarded. It’s like trying to get into the U.S Mint.”

That made you pause. He wants to know more about me? What?

Bean purrs louder and brushes up against your legs as if asking your permission for Ben to live there.

This is insane. Why here? Couldn’t he go off and live with Legend or something?

“Are you sure you couldn’t just live with Legend? Y’all seem to get along better-“

Ben shudders. “I never want to live with him again. I stayed over at his house a few nights one time and walked in on him naked and covered in cool whip.”

“I don’t think you have the right to kink shame other people-“

“He was alone Petals.”

“What?”

“There was no one else there.”

“Okay yeah that’s weird.” You snort.

“Then again if I walked in on you covered in cool whip I think it would be a nice surprise.” Ben winks at you as he takes another hit from his blunt.

“Keep dreaming Gramps.”

“Oh I see it in my dreams all the time.” He tilts his head to the side, his eyes tracing the curves of your body.

You sigh exasperated. On one hand you felt bad for him and were kind of flattered that he was willing to confess that he didn’t want to live alone to you. And on the other hand you didn’t want him to live with you because you knew he would drive you to the brink of insanity. And you were already close enough to that.

“Fine.”

“Fine like you’re going to pull some cool whip out of the freezer?” Ben perks up.

“No. Fine as in you can live here and pay rent. But, if you break any of the rules or if you start driving me more insane than usual, I reserve the right to kick you out on your ass.”

“Can I make a counter offer?”

“Nope.”

Ben sighs mulling it over, before he stands from the couch and holds out his hand towards you. “Deal.”

You take it hesitantly. Sometimes you weren’t used to how warm Ben was. You figured that it was because of the nuclear radiation, but you didn’t mind it. In fact, you kind of liked it. Plants and cold didn’t mix and you noticed that you didn’t do well in the cold either, which meant that Ben’s body temperature almost seemed to soothe you.

And you noticing how warm he was again lead back to the memory of him pinning you against the counter earlier, how warm his body was when it curved around you, how he dipped his head down towards yours, how he-

I’ve got to get this under control. You grit your teeth together to avoid the strawberry bush on top of the refrigerator to go back into full bloom.

“Well now that this is all sorted out, I’m going to go to bed.” You let go of his hand and try to step around him, but Ben blocks you.

“Come on roomie, watch a movie with me. This is a good one.” Ben nods his head back to the tv, where the opening credits have started to play.

You’d never seen this film before, but wondered why Ben was so adamant about you watching a movie with him. You’d seen most of his others and hadn’t been impressed with his acting skills. You assumed he kept getting roles because of who he was.

What? Does he think that watching a film with him in it will make me sleep with him? I wonder if he does that on his Tinder dates, gets them all hot and bothered with his old films and… I am not thinking about this right now.

“I don’t watch much tv.” You lie, eyes shifting back to the dark hallway and the solace of your bedroom. In your bedroom you couldn't make the mistake of kissing Ben, in there you could only fantasize about it.

“There’s that adorable scrunch.” Ben coos poking his finger directly between your eyebrows, signaling that he knows you lied.

“Fine.” You sigh, swatting away his hand. “I’ll watch the stupid movie. But can I change first?”

“Sure.” 

You vanish down the hallway and into your room, looking around at the familiar objects inside. You take in a soothing breath, feeling the energy from the plants in the room sink into your bones and take away your anxiety and nervous energy. You gently touch the petals of a honeysuckle on your chest of drawers to perk it up, the happy yellow blooms making you smile.

I don’t have to go back out there. I can just hide in here forever.

It seemed like a good plan, but apart of you felt guilty, because Ben was asking you to do something that was normal with him instead of asking you to sleep with him.

Maybe he’s trying to have a sort of friendship. Maybe I should be supportive of that and-

“If you’re debating whether or not to come out of your room naked, the answer is yes.” Ben shouts from the living room. "I can check the freezer for cool whip for you."

Never mind.

When you finally come out of your bedroom you’re wearing a pair of your softest sweatpants and a maroon t-shirt with a picture of a potted plant on the front, toting your latest crochet project- a black cardigan with small white flowers the size of the tip of your pinky that you were making for Annie's birthday that was coming up in a month.

Before you hadn't minded that the only place to sit in your living room was the couch. Annie and you had spent many nights sitting on it drinking wine and watching ridiculous movies, but now you wished that you had tried to shove another armchair into your living room, because the only place for you to sit was beside Ben.

Ben, who now had shrugged out of his jacket and was looking much too good for someone wearing a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. He grins when he sees you and pats the cushion next to him.

"Come on baby, I don't bite." His grin turns wolfish. "Unless you ask me to."

You shake your head, but sit down beside him, bringing your legs up underneath you and place the cardigan on your lap before finding the cold metal of the crochet hook in the bundle. Ben's thigh is almost touching yours, just an inch of space between the two of you, but you can still feel the warmth of his body in the space.

"What the fuck is that?" Ben zeroes in on the project in your lap.

"I'm making a sweater for Annie's birthday. It's next month." You don't bother looking up at him, instead you try to find the stitch where you left off.

"And you call me old." Ben laughs.

"Keep talking Gramps and I'm gonna make you a pretty pink hat with big yellow flowers, tie it to your head while you're sleeping, take a photo, and make it your profile picture on Tinder."

"You've seen my pictures on Tinder?" Ben leans towards you and wiggles his eyebrows. "Were you fantasizing about me Petals?"

"Have you ever had a filter or did it get thrown away when you got the Douchebag iOS 8 upgrade?" You ask beginning to work down the row of stitches.

"I have no idea what that means." Ben frowns in confusion.

"Ask Hughie. Now be quiet I'm trying to watch the movie."

Ben chuckles and leans back on the sofa.

The movie was better than the others you'd seen. Ben was playing a man who was surviving in an apocalyptic world following the fallout of nuclear war that turned everyone into mutated creatures. It was broken up by flashbacks to a perfect world where Ben was in the military and had the perfect nuclear family.

There was something about seeing him in the flashbacks with the family that made something stir in your chest. Seeing him so gentle, playing with his kids, sitting at the breakfast table with his wife- it reminded you of how Ben acted with you sometimes, when he acted calmer and less like the macho asshole he was around Butcher and the rest of the team.

It made you think about what Hughie said that Ben said about having a few kids with Countess.

He’d probably be a good dad.

You think to yourself finishing the row and starting the next one, the bright blue metal crochet hook weaving the yarn together.

That must have been painful, to find out that she never loved him. I wonder if he waited for her to come get him everyday.

A part of your heart broke for him despite how much he annoyed you. You couldn’t imagine someone you loved letting you down like that, leaving you behind and not coming back.

It would be like me waiting for Annie each day and then find out that our friendship didn't mean anything to her.

You could see Ben glancing over at you every few minutes as if gauging how much you liked the movie, and it was hard not to smile.

“What?” You ask, threading your hook.

“Are you paying attention?”

“Yes.”

“Do you like it?”

“Huh?” You look up from your crochet at him. You weren’t expecting him to ask you that. “Um yeah. I like this one. I can't believe they got Charleton Heston to star in this with you." You say watching Ben and Heston on the screen. Heston was playing another survivor who was leading what seemed to be the last group of survivors in New York. Ben's character had just discovered them living in the sewers and was happy to learn that he wasn’t the last man on earth. “You like Chuck Petals?”

“My dad did. We used to watch all his films, but we never watched this one.” You look back down at your crochet, smoothly working down the row. The rhythmic motion of the hook and the yarn is serene and calming. It’s why you started in the first place, because after a long day it was the only thing that lowered your anxiety.

You hadn’t thought about your father in years, hadn’t tried to watch one of the films he loved so much in ages, sometimes it was too painful to think about your parents, hard to think about what happened to them.

“What was he like?” Ben asks.

“Charleston Heston? I hate to break it to you Gramps, but if you’ve forgotten what he was like and you were in a movie with him I’m pretty sure that’s a sign of Alzheimer’s.” You reply without looking up.

“Your old man.” Ben rolls his eyes.

“Oh.” You bite the inside of your cheek. “He was a dad.” You say it hoping that Ben won't press you for more answers.

“And?”

“Why are you asking me that?” You insert the hook into the sweater, not looking up at Ben.

“Humor me.”

“I don’t really want to talk about him.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t like to.”

“Why not?"

“Because I don’t!" You shout, shoulders tensing. "Why? Do you like talking about your dad?”

Ben’s mouth dips down into a frown. “Not really.”

An awkward silence grows between the two of you, broken only by the dialogue between Ben and Heston on the screen.

“My parents died when I was 12.” You whisper, continuing down the row of stitches until you get to the end and flip the sweater around. "I don't like talking about it."

Ben presses his lips into a tight line. “I’m sorry.”

“I’d say it’s okay, but it’s really not.” You begin the next row of stitches, not looking up at Ben. You hadn't talked about your parents with anyone since you were in a relationship with Newton. Annie of course knew, she'd been there with you the whole time, through the funeral, through the aftermath when you had horrible nightmares, through the fallout with your brother when he vanished for a month and didn't seem the same when he came back, and she always made sure that you were okay. Annie was more than your best friend, she was family.

Another silence builds as the two of you watch the movie continue. Heston had just revealed that it was his fault that the nuclear fallout took place and that he was secretly a Nazi. You were sure that there was going to be an epic fight scene within the next few minutes.

“My mom died when I was young too.” Ben murmurs still looking at the screen, barely audible over the music as it begins to swell.

You stop crocheting to look at him. “I’m sorry.”

He nods once, not looking at you, taking another hit from his blunt.

And as you sit there examining him, you wondered if Ben, despite everything he said and everything he did, if he was just as human as you were.

A/N: I realize that this might be becoming a lot of domestic fluff and soft Ben and I'm not sorry. 😂

As always thank you so much for reading! If you'd like to be added to the taglist please let me know! :)

Taglist:

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@ifyouwerethemoon @ririshkin @peachhiz @fitxgrld @sukunassfinger

[totghostly]

viktor x male disabled cane user reader

FEMALES, MINORS, NON MLM DNI

no season 2 spoilers. light mentions of s1 events? could be pre-s1 or during.

-- reader is implied to be like 2-4 years younger maybe?? he/him user. could be romantic or platonic. Jayce is here for a good time not a long time LMAO

safe for touch repulsed people, POC, fat, trans, and disabled readers. Written with a transmasc self-insert in mind. Could be any disability that causes pain and fatuige that reader uses a cane for. written by an author with either POTS and EDS or early arthritis.

People don't realize how embarrassing it is to be disabled and have to use an aid. To have the equivalent to a flashing sign that says "try to fix me!" on it. To be "too young" to use it, "too healthy".

Viktor was okay with nonody understanding. He's the Co-Scientist of Hextech, why would he care what some topsider thought? He never boticed how lonely it was to have nobody who gets it. Nobody who understands the frustration, all beacuse your body doesnt work normally. There's not a lot of topsiders that he sees with visible disabilities.

Jayce had been trying to get him to agree to let his friend work at the lab, sense he had went to engineering school a few years after Jayce and Viktor. Viktor, for good reasons, was hesitant to agree to have a stranger working on his lifes work. He agreed, though, when Jayce had sworn he was probably just as competent as them both, maybe more. Though, Viktor found that hard to believe.

The first day he seen him, He got to the lab during a Council meeting and was at his desk for most of the day. He left late into the evening, saying his goodbyes to Jayce and waving softly to Viktor, who reciprocated and went back to work before he left. For someone who prides himself on how observant he is, Viktor is shocked he didn't realize his new lab partners cane earlier on.

He only really noticed it because reader arrived later, something around ten AM. He had his cane in hand while he walked, bag over his shoulder as he yawned. Jayce greeted him, asking if he was okay just to get a curt "it's okay, I'm fine!" as reader sits at his desk.

Viktors mind had been going back to the younger man rather frequently that day, watching as he shifted on his stool, or tried to stretch his legs to get some of the pain to ease away to no avail. Viktor seen the look in his eyes, that haze. Jayce had went to get more parts, sense they had been low for a while and they needed them for their tasks that day. Around a half hour later, Viktor walked up to Readers desk, and sat in a spare stool.

He greets the other, Reader looking up at him as he mumbles a reply. "How ehm.. are you feeling?" he hesitantly asked. He wanted as Reader shifted, "I'm .. fine." He shrugs, taking a swig of his drink. Viktor lets him lie. It can be hard to admit you arent okay.

After a few minutes, Reader leans onto his desk. "..this sucks." he sighs, and Viktor nods. "да." Reader groans in frustration. "I dont know why I cant work like a normal guy." He mumbles, arns coming up to cusion his head. "Life is err.. Unfair, to good people." Viktor says, matter of fact. He scoots closer to Reader, not touching them. His presence is comforting enough though.

It's an unspoken "I'm here. I understand. I see you." and he hopes Reader feels it. He'll be here, whenever Reader needs to vent about it, if ever. Wether it be the frustration , The pain, or just.. How people treat you. He understands. And one day he hopes everyone will care enough to try and understand too.

[theprisonerandthebeast]

Do you write poly marauders? if so could you write one where they all live in a cute little apartment together, but the boys have gone away for week (or however long) and reader (preferably fem) kind of loses herself. like she starts eating less or at irregular times, kinda lets apartment get messy, wears same clothes everyday and is over all sad. the boys come home and find what's happening and comfort/help her. Mega fluff?!

hope this is enough inspo!

love your writing!!!

thank you :))

I LOVE THIS! I’ve been wanting to write poly!marauders forever and now I have an excuse. A kiss for you, anon.

(I might edit to add more details to the ending later!!)

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

“It’s just a week. We will be back soon, okay, Angel?” James coos to you, kissing you softly.

The boys are all heading out, bags in hand, saying their goodbyes.

“It’s actually 6 days, Jamie, not a week.” Sirius says, pointedly.

“Excuse me…” James says sarcastically to Sirius, then, turning to you, “6 days, then, Princess. Think you can make it without us that long?”

“Yes, I’ll be fine.” You say, giggling at James’ almost-overly-sensitive tone. He’s always babied you the most.

Remus says, exasperatedly, “I wouldn’t even be going to this Quidditch game if it wasn’t to make sure these idiots don’t fall off the stands, gorgeous girl, you know that, right?”

You giggle even harder at that, “Yes, I know. Now, go and have fun.”

You usher them out the door and into the hallway of your apartment. Luxurious, ceiling-high windows, a kitchen all of you could judge James’ latest experimental dish in, and a living room couch (made of clouds) facing the most expensive TV screen Sirius could afford.

What was originally Sirius’ apartment became Sirius and James’ apartment. Soon after, Remus moved in. Lastly, they asked you to move in once your relationship became more serious.

You walk around the suddenly too-quiet apartment. The cool floor feels more evident on your feet than before and a chill runs down your spine. You climb onto the couch, pull a blanket to your chin, and turn on a show for background noise. You fall asleep almost immediately.

The next morning, you wake up expecting the boys’ arms around you. Sirius snoring loudly, James spread out, pushing Remus off the bed- this was your normal morning routine. Waking up on the couch was never an option before. If you fell asleep on the couch, one of the boys, usually Sirius, would carry you to bed.

With nobody around to do that this morning (and no snoring to be heard from anywhere) you start to feel an empty, lonely feeling. Usually you or James or Remus would make breakfast but you didn’t feel like eating. You make yourself a cup of coffee and relax for the rest of the day. For dinner, you order a pizza and eat the whole thing. It was the only thing you had ate that day and told yourself tomorrow would be better.

That night, you fall asleep fitfully.

The days after are no better, in actuality, they were worse. One night you couldn’t sleep at all and at 3am you give up. You go to the living room, stare out the window at the city below and watch the cars light up the street. Even at 3am, cars are still going. You think too much about who’s in those cars and what they’re doing. Why are they driving at 3am? Some of them could be driving to the hospital right now. Some of them are just now getting off work. Some of them are teenagers who want to get away from their parents to smoke weed at the abandoned house on 7th Street.

You think about how out of all the people in the world, Remus, Sirius, and James chose you.

Suddenly, a thought hits you- there on the couch at damn near 4 in the morning. “They left me, they went on a trip to see someone else… They never chose me after all…”

You believe its true. You believe it so bad you go to sleep, crying, right there on the couch.

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

Hours (or was it days?) later you wake up to keys jingling outside the door. Panic hits you at first. You look around the living room and kitchen. Pizza boxes, McDonald's cheeseburger wrappers, and an old, door-dashed Starbucks drink, definitely growing mold by now, lay around you. And that’s not even counting the bedroom.

They walk in, bags in hand. Smiling at first, then immediately frowning when they see the state of the apartment; the state of you. Shame hits you like a brick. You think about the scene in Home Alone when the robber gets a iron smashed into his face. You think that might feel better.

James is the first to drop everything and coddle you, as usual. He rushes to you, thrusting himself in your arms. You immediately feel better.

“Are you okay? You look so sad, puppy.” He strokes your hair and you smile as the familiar James scent reaches you.

Remus and Sirius are hugging you moments after.

You cry but laugh. You feel silly for ever thinking they were visiting another person.

“What’s going on? You missed us?” Sirius says, pouting.

“Yes, I missed you!” you cry-laugh and throw a pillow from the couch at him.

Remus giggles when you miss.

You explain the situation to them and how you got a little insecure in their departure.

Sirius carries you to bed and Remus holds you while James makes you a proper dinner.

After, Remus runs you a bath, just how you like it. Sirius brushes and braids your hair.

While you were taking a bath, it seemed like the trash disappeared magically. You figured Remus had cleaned it.

Nobody mentions the mess, the boys are all just glad you're feeling better.

You fall asleep with all the boys cradled around you in your big bed. You only start to fall into a deep sleep when you hear Sirius snoring softly.

[5-puthyyy]

The Apprentice (Agatha x Rio x Reader) - Chapter 9

AO3 LINK

Word Count: 3.4k

Summary:

Life has been about survival for you ever since your coven banished you for the simplest thing: desire. Since then, you've travelled from Inn to Inn, making ends meet, until you sense a powerful Magick presence coming from two mysterious women. They take you in as their apprentice and you end up learning far more than what you came for...

CHAPTER WARNINGS! -- (18+ ONLY) SEXUAL CONTENT + MAMA KINK

Ch.1 ~ Ch.2 ~ Ch.3 ~ Ch.4 ~ Ch.5 ~ Ch.6 ~ Ch.7 ~ Ch.8 ~ Ch.9

Breakfast, or rather, lunch at this hour, is heavy. The tension can be felt in the air, tasted, even, with how thick it is in the air. It’s choking you, forcing you to clear your throat every now and then to fill the silence. Agatha and Rio seem comfortable enough, humming to themselves as they butter their bread and swirl it in soup. Rio even reaches over to you with the end of her bread dripping into her open hand, and you open wide and bite, giving a shy smile of gratitude.

It’s awkward, or maybe it’s just you being awkward, not knowing how to act around them after the night – and morning – you just had together. How can they act so normal after that? How can they sit there humming and grinning at each other as if you haven’t invaded their relationship? Why don’t they hate you?

“Little dove, your thoughts are far too loud,” Agatha breaks the silence with a sigh, pairing it with a soft smile to you. Her eyes are glowing after the sleep she had, the desire you’ve been seeing in them sated now. Is that all it was? All you are? An itch that needed to be scratched and now they sit together, exchanging light and tender touches, their eyes communicated with one another while you sit as stiff as a board.

Rio groans, annoyed at your shyness and apparent awkwardness. “Were we not clear enough?” she asks, chugging down her cup of water.

“I just–” you start, hesitating, voice so hoarse from your silence that you need to clear your throat as a blush taints your cheeks, “I don’t understand what this means…”

Rio sighs, turning to talk to Agatha in a whisper. “Did she not read your book?”

Your brows scrunch together in confusion. Her book? Did she mean the history book Agatha wrote on witches?

“Apparently not all of it,” Agatha says, sending a playful glare your way. You turn away at being caught listening in on their quiet conversation, your blush even deeper now, trailing down your neck. They both follow it with their eyes, already hungry for more as they reach your free breasts covered by a thin white gown.

Rio suddenly grunts, snapping her head up as black colours the veins in her neck. You immediately get up, concern written all over your face. Agatha beats you to it with a hand to Rio’s cheeks, soothing her with a hum and understanding eyes.

“It has been too long,” Rio says, her voice dark and distorted. Begrudgingly, she forces herself to stand up, “I have to go to work. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone,” she finally meets your eyes, stepping towards you; her hand reaches up, fingertips gently stroking your jaw, “But I will be back. I promise.”

Leaning your cheek into her grounding touch, a soft sigh escapes your lips to hers as she presses closer, leaving a tender but firm lingering kiss on your lips. When your eyes finally flutter open, you see she’s doing the same to Agatha, the two of them holding each other in a passionate embrace as they say goodbye.

A few moments later, Rio’s standing on the porch dressed in a flowy, forest green gown with intricate patterns along the hood. She turns once, giving the two of you a kiss from her hand before disappearing in a poof of green smoke. If anything, you’re even more confused than you were earlier. What was that black in her veins? Where did Rio have to go? Why couldn’t you sense what type of Magick that was?

Agatha can see the questions running through your mind and pulls you into her arms, running her fingers through your hair. “All will be answered, little dove. Why don’t we head down to my study?”

It’s less messy this time round when you hesitantly walk into her study. Less being the key word here; the shelves are still overflowing with stacks on the ground, but at least it’s organised now. The first case is filled with spellbooks, the second history and social commentary, and the third literature. Agatha fusses at her desk for a moment while you stroll carefully, brushing the tips of your fingers along the broken leather spines of her books.

“What did you read the last time you were here?” Agatha asks, taking a seat in the large armchair by the equally large plant Rio’s likely put here.

“Uh, I couldn’t really understand most of the spellbooks I picked up, so I…” you hesitate, cheeks tinted pink now that you remember the last thing you read here. It was sexual by nature, a chapter on the impact of sharing pleasure within the witch community.

Agatha lifts a teasing brow. “You…?” she trails on, urging you to finish your thought. You refuse to, remaining stubborn as your teeth chew at your bottom lip. Instead, you march over to the bookcase and scan until you find the book you were reading. Agatha simply waits patiently until you walk towards her and timidly place the book in her hands.

“This one,” you murmur, to which Agatha snorts and shakes her head, glancing down to see which book it is. 

A knowing expression takes over Agatha’s face, her brows relaxing and, lips curling into a soft smile. “Did you read it all?” Agatha asks, you shake your head ‘no’, “Would you like to go over it together?” 

Agatha gives you no room to answer, instead tapping on her lap for you to take a seat. Shifting uncomfortably as you step side to side, your heart thuds so incredibly hard in your chest you fear it may fall out and land all bloody over Agatha’s poor lap.

“Y/N,” Agatha says sternly, lifting a brow that screams authority. With a gulp, you turn and slowly take a seat on her knee, barely putting any pressure. The witch below you sighs heavily, wrapping her arms around your waist to pull you closer and adjust you until the two of you are comfortable enough.

For a moment, your mind flickers back to Rio wondering if this is something she would approve of, or whether she would be upset at you and Agatha for engaging in such behaviour without her. But before you can think about that in any more depth, Agatha opens the book up straight to the chapter about her life.

“Did you read this one?” she asks softly, her breath warm against your ear. You gulp again and shake your head ‘no’, “Why not?” Agatha’s tone is delicate, curious, but not angry. It feels safe enough for you to answer, to be vulnerable without fear of rejection.

“I–I wanted to–I, well, I thought it would be wrong to read such intimate details about your life. Not without your permission.”

Agatha hums. “Well, I did give you permission to read whatever you would like to from my study, did I not?” Agatha reasons but you shake your head again, brows knitted together.

“No, it’s wrong to learn about you from a book. I want to learn about you from you.”

Agatha stays silent and you immediately think you have said the wrong thing. But she pulls you closer, burrowing her nose into the back of your neck to leave a gentle kiss against your skin. “You really are a treasure, little dove.”

You shift, blushing all over at the attention. “I’m not, not really.”

Agatha laughs under her breath, nipping at your skin in warning. “Did I not ask you to stop that?” she changes the topic back, “Now, what would you like to know?”

Suddenly, you’re stuck. Every question you had thought of has disappeared out of your mind. You end up settling on, “Uh, whatever you feel comfortable telling me?” 

Closing the book with a sigh, Agatha sets it on the table to the side of the chair, leaning back to get comfortable once she’s done. You turn over your shoulder to sneak a glance at her but see her staring right at you with a soft expression that twists your insides. You’ve never felt this comfortable with someone; it’s catching you off guard and you’re not entirely sure how to cope with the way you’re feeling. All of it ends up being channelled into awkwardness and you’re terrified it’s going to make Agatha think you don’t want this, but you do. God, you do, so badly you think you’ve never wanted anything more.

“I was born in Salem, to a coven and a mother that did not…want me.”

Snapping your head back with a look of shock, but also understanding, you catch the vulnerability flashing in her eyes. “Your father?”

Agatha snickers at that. “Witches have never needed men,” she answers humouredly before carrying on, “My mother was cruel because my powers were different. I can siphon it from others, and as a child figuring this out came with…consequences.”

You can already decipher what she meant by that as her eyes darken, staring off over your shoulder. “That must have been difficult.”

Agatha breaks out of her daydream to look at you with furrowed brows. “No, my powers are fairly easy to navigate, I just didn’t understand what was happening.”

With a subtle, nervous lip bite, you raise a hand and gently hold her warm cheek. “I mean having no one to guide you and tell you it’s okay.”

A surprising but happy warmth takes over her eyes as she gazes into yours, softly leaning her face into your gentle hand. “Oh.”

“I’m sorry,” you pout, knowing exactly how it feels to be isolated, “It’s not easy, being alone. And to pair that with cruelty from your own blood? God, no child should ever have to go through that. Especially someone as…”

“As?” Agatha urges on, a hint of desperation in her tone as she waits to hear what you truly think of her.

“Especially someone with a heart as gentle as yours,” you whisper, eyes remaining tender.

Agatha’s lips part for a moment, not expecting you or anyone to see her that way, see past the protective walls she has carefully put up. “That’s–” she starts, but she’s unable to finish her sentence, choking on her words. Wordlessly, she decides to show you how you’ve made her feel by leaning forward until her lips brush yours, as gentle as ever.

Hitching your breath, you lean to reciprocate, sighing into her mouth as you suck on her bottom lip gently, fuelled by the soft whine she lets out. Her hands grip at your waist to turn you until you’re straddling her, gently rolling your hips as your tongue confidently swipes her lower lip. But the moment she pulls back to part them and let you in, you suddenly pull back, remembering Rio.

“Oh, God, this is wrong, I’m so sorry! What’s Rio going to think? This is beyond disrespect–”

Agatha growls, rolling her eyes at you before shushing you with another kiss. “Rio can have you later,” she says simply, possessively, wrapping her arms around you until you’re flush to her and unable to say no again. You can’t, you won’t, not when she’s kissing you with such fire, hands roaming, groping, memorising the way your body feels in her palms.

The anxious thoughts running through your head as gone as quickly as they appeared, losing yourself in her touch, her tongue, those delicate but strong hands, gentle but moving with intent. They know what they want; Agatha knows what she wants, her fingers already playing a soft tune along your spine until she reaches the base. They grip, squeeze, play with your ass forcing you to grind faster against her. 

You’re embarrassingly wet, so soaked you’re sure she can somehow feel it already, sense it, even smell it if she just leans her head down a little. She does, pulling away from your eager, pouty lips to kiss at your neck, already marked bright with her lips. She smirks at the marks, at you, as if you are her canvas and she’s prideful of her work of art.

Every kiss here is softer than it was the night before, delicate little pecks over the bruised skin as if in soft apology, or affection, or everything. God, she’s everything, doing everything, making you feel everything. She’s all you want now, you think, whimpering softly with each kiss to your skin. It’s as if your sounds fuel her, give her power to continue, to keep taking, giving, taking, giving…

“Agatha…” you moan her name sensually, right into her ear in a soft sigh, breath hot against her. She can’t help but moan back at the sound, fingers tightening their grip, spreading you obscenely as you groan again, “Fuck, please.”

She makes you beg no more, wanting you just as desperately as you want her. There’s no push, only pull for the next few seconds as she drags your gown high over your thighs, gasping when her slithering hand finds your naked cunt within seconds. 

“Nude? My, my, you really are naughty, aren’t you, sweetheart?” she smirks deliciously, fingers pressing into your naked heat as wicked as the expression taking over her face. The moan that slips out is involuntary, but she soaks it in and it fuels her confidence further, “You’re so wet already, it’s almost pathetic.”

She practically spits the word out; it’s twinged with darkness, laced with a hidden shot of venom, and, fuck, it’s addictive. You didn’t think your body would react this way but it does, rolling, writhing, whining for more. It is pathetic, and you will happily be so for her.

Agatha’s pleased with your reaction, growling into your neck and sinking her teeth into your skin the same moment she sinks two fingers into your pulsing walls. Back arching into her, you gasp and moan, immediately bouncing your hips up and down to start a rhythm.

“So beautiful,” Agatha whispers, more to herself than to you as she sighs, pants against the skin of your neck. She lets you control the rhythm, lets you bounce, roll, grind your hips however you please, “Taking me so well, little dove.”

Keening at her praises, your heart swells and thuds in your chest. Your head falls down onto her shoulder, burying deep into her, inhaling as much of her lavender and honey scent as you can. Agatha allows a moment or two of indulgence just because of how whiney you sound as you leak into her palm, grinding slowly to catch her wrist against your clit. But eventually she grips your hair with her free hand and pulls you back.

“Eyes on me, sweetling,” Agatha demands, almost hissing in her commanding tone.

She works you up with her fingers, curling them expertly with each thrust as you come down, brushing her thumb over your clit every now and then just to keep you on that edge, all while keeping those lust-filled dark eyes locked to yours. This is power for her, you realise, giving you pleasure, but taking away your control of it. It’s the way she plays you, how she slows her fingers down and scissors them to tease, to feel every inch of your tight, wet heat, how she leans in to lick at your bottom lip, to peck your mouth but deny you when you lean in for more. The look in her eyes is prideful, high on power, so cruel but somehow filled with adoration; it drives you to insanity. 

“Fuck, please, I cannot take it any longer,” you burst out, moaning, groaning, fingers digging into her shoulders. By now, your gown is wet with sweat, nipples peaking against the thin material. Agatha simply smirks, eyes flashing with pleasure at your desperation. She continues to ignore your words, keeping her pace deliberately slow and teasing, and then leans down to lay her tongue flat through your gown right against your nipple, “Ah, please, Agatha, please, I need to–” you choke on your words, unable to finish as you break out into a series of whiney moans as she sucks your bud into her hungry mouth.

“You need?” Agatha urges you to finish, going right back to her attack on your chest. You can feel her teeth through your gown, sharp and dangerously teetering on the edge of pain and pleasure as they bite down.

Your mind is empty at this point, filled with nothing but want as you begin to bounce your hips again to chase your high, but Agatha’s free hand is at the curve of your hip quickly, stopping you from moving. You’re practically on the verge of tears now, pouting deeply as you look down at her; she has not an ounce of sympathy as she meets your gaze, eyes glimmering with playfulness as her mouth continues sucking your nipple, tongue circling it before flicking over it again and again.

A broken moan escapes as a tear falls, your cunt aching with the need for release. “I’m sorry, please, I’m so sorry,” you begin crying out, thinking this must be some sort of punishment, “Mama, please, I need you so bad–”

“Say that again.”

Your head snaps back down at the hoarseness in her voice, the shakiness in her words. The hand on your hips creeps up until it’s at your jaw, tightening and pulling you closer to her lips. You’re mere inches away, panting into each other’s parted lips.

“I need you, Mama,” you whisper, whimper, meeting her halfway as your lips crash together in a wet clash of teeth and tongue. You pull back, lips stringing with hers, “I need you to make me come, Mama,” you whisper again, swallowing her whimpers with another kiss, “I need your fingers,” you add, licking into her mouth, “Your hands,” she squeezes your hips, “Your tongue,” Agatha groans again, adjusting so her hand is flat. It’s painful this way, you know, but for you it feels so fucking good, her fingers pushing in deeper than before, “Yes, just like that, please, fuck, don’t stop.”

Agatha couldn’t stop now even if she wanted to, too overtaken with lust for you. Her pace is angry, desperate, primal as she pushes her hand up against your bouncing movements; it’s hard, her palm slapping lewdly against your bare, glistening lips. The sound drives you mad, chest and cheek flushing pink with a strange mix of humiliation and excitement.

“Are you mine?” Agatha asks, pants, “Really?” 

You groan, head thrown back, lost in pleasure. Your hands come down to squeeze at your chest, both you and Agatha groaning at that for very different reasons. “Yes,” you hiss out, vaguely hearing her question between the pounding of your heart in your ears and the white noise taking over as you creep closer and closer to your climax, “Fuck, Mama, I’m yours.”

The guttural sound that escapes her is unlike one you’ve ever heard before and it sends shocks down your spine straight to your core. Your movements become just as erratic as hers as she manages to slip a third finger in, stretching you deliciously. It’s pain, pleasure, and pure ecstasy as she pants soothing whispers into your ear.

“You’re doing so good for me, sweetling,” she praises, “You make the prettiest sounds,” she coos, “I can’t believe you’re finally mine,” she growls, pressing against your clit with more determination now, eyes wide and desperate to see you untamed as you come undone.

“God, don’t stop,” you whine, your sounds filthy, loud enough to scare the afternoon birds away. It’s a moment frozen in time as your back arches, chest pushing into her face as your breath catches in your throat. You feel nothing but her, hear nothing but her, see nothing but those darkened blue eyes before yours shut tight in pleasure.

Agatha’s right there with you, soothing you as you ride your climax, her fingers still pushing you through it despite how tightly you’re throbbing around them. Her mouth finds your chest again, sucking with hunger, kisses moving up until she reaches the skin of your neck and she bites, deep and hard, not bothering to soothe it with a lick of her tongue before going to another patch, and another, claiming you.

She only stops when your moans turn into soft mewls, panting as your hand sifts through Agatha’s wild hair. God, you’re obsessed with it; with her.

“How do you feel?” Agatha asks, pulling back to kiss your lips gently. Her natural pout remains as she pulls away, eyes glued to your swollen pink lips.

You gaze down at her with tenderness, stroking the hairs at the back of her neck. “Free.”

masterlist + guidelines

this is just p*rn at this point lmfao (is anyone actually complaining tho?)

[holllandtrash]

6 to 1 | lando norris (part 4)

pariring: lando norris x leclerc!reader part 4 in the 6 to 1 series (read part 3 here)

you and lando have gotten so used to each other in such a short amount of time that a few days apart feels unnatural. there are still lines you're scared to cross, but lando will do anything to prove he's not going anywhere

word count: 6.2k tags/warnings: social media au aspects, alcohol consumption

You jumped when you felt a pair of hands on your shoulders as you stood outside the hotel lobby doors. Usually it was Carlos finding any reason to scare you, but when you didn’t hear his laughter following your panicked inhale, you turned around and came face to face with Lando.

“Morning,” he smiled, eyeing the suitcase at your feet. “What time’s your flight?”

You were a little surprised he didn’t call you out for leaving without saying goodbye, but you both knew you didn’t owe him that. Whatever happened last night, the kiss you shared, it wasn’t supposed to turn into anything bigger.

You glanced at your phone, “In a few hours, I’m just waiting for the uber.”

“You’re not flying with Charles?”

The question confused you, but then you remembered that Lando was probably expecting you to attend all of the races. You had only missed a few since the start of the season and Lando had gotten used to your presence over the weekends.

“I’m going to London,” you told him. “I’m not going to the next race.”

Lando’s smile dropped, his eyes widened and was in resemblance to a puppy as we waited for you to make a joke and tell him you were only kidding.

But you were being serious and when neither of you said anything for a few seconds, it sunk in for Lando that he wouldn’t see you at all this week. 

“Why?” He swallowed. “I mean, at the risk of sounding needy, can I ask why?”

Lando thought he had done something. 

Seeing you standing with your luggage, Lando drew his own conclusion that he had done something wrong last night. Maybe he shouldn’t have kissed you, maybe he shouldn’t have asked about why you didn’t date drivers, maybe he shouldn’t have put you in the position you now found yourself in. 

You needed to ease his nerves, and the second you reached for his face, lightly brushing your thumb over his cheek, Lando started to think that maybe he was overreacting. 

“My friend is getting married,” you answered. “Her hen party is this weekend. The wedding takes place next. And then I’m probably just going to stay in London until Silverstone because it’s the weekend after anyway.”

Lando nodded and you could see him working through the dates in his mind, wondering when he’d get to see you next. It would be almost three weeks. 

But it wasn’t like he had a say in the matter. He would miss you, just like you would find yourself missing him, but you didn’t have any sort of commitment to him or the races. Lando almost felt as though he didn’t have the right to tell you that he wanted you to be there. 

“Where are you staying?” He asked, instead of saying what he really wanted to say. “In London?”

“Oh I don’t know yet,” your phone chimed, letting you know the uber was nearby. “I’ll call one of my friends when I land or I’ll get an airbnb. I’ll figure it out.”

Lando was taken aback by how unprepared you were, but if you were being honest, most of your travel plans were usually booked by someone else. Charles’ assistant made sure you had a room booked and transportation sorted out when you attended the races. If you ever travelled for modelling jobs, the agency would plan ahead. This was one of the few times when you were in charge of your own trip.

And clearly, that stressed Lando out a bit.

“You’re just going to land in Heathrow and hope that someone has a spare room for you?” Lando repeated back what you had told him, but making it sound more preposterous than it actually was. 

You shrugged, “I mean, yeah. Someone’s bound to. Or I’ll get an airbnb.”

“A last minute rental in the heart of London?” Again, he was wording it in a way that was making you second guess your decision. “That’s available for the next three weeks?”

“I’ll figure it out.”

Lando rolled his eyes, rubbing his hand over his face. He was in very visible distress and when his sigh was loud enough for people nearby to turn and look at what was going on, you pushed on his shoulder.

“Lando, I’ll be fine,” you assured him with a laugh. 

But he only shook his head and pulled out his phone, “I know somewhere you can stay. I’ll send you the address and key code and everything.”

“In London?”

“Redcliffe Square,” he clarified. You didn’t spend a lot of time in London, but you were familiar with that borough, nestled between Kensington and Chelsea, two of the most expensive areas in the entire city.

“Who’s place is it?” You asked. “I don’t want to intrude.”

“You won’t, don’t worry.”

“But whose place is it?” You asked again. Your phone vibrated in your hands and you glanced at the screen to see that Lando had sent you all of the information you needed to access the flat. 

“A friend’s,” he glanced over your shoulder when a black SUV pulled up along the curb. “He isn’t even in London. You can use the place for the next few weeks, okay?”

You weren’t fully sold on the idea, but with your uber arriving, there wasn’t much time to argue. The look you gave Lando told him you’d think about it and that’s all he could ask for. He took the luggage from you and wheeled it to the trunk of the car. 

Lando, for whatever reason, was determined to help you in any way he could. And you weren’t someone who ever needed help, but Lando did little things here and there that you hadn’t stopped to think about until now.

Like how he opened the door for you whenever he could. Taking your suitcase from you so you didn’t have to lift it. Sorting out your temporary living situation so you didn’t have to worry about it. Lando liked being able to take care of you, as much as he was allowed given the fact that you two weren’t actually together.

He shut the trunk again and returned to you, shoulders slummed as he took in a heavy breath. He looked at you as if he was trying to remember every detail of your face, seeing as he wouldn’t be able to just wait outside the Ferrari motorhome to see you or even show up outside your flat. 

Lando would be heading straight to Austria, in fact he had to finish packing because he too needed to go to the airport soon. 

“How am I supposed to move up your driver ranking if you’re not even watching the race?” He asked. 

“That’s on you to figure out.”

“Who’s next on your list?”

“Danny Ric.”

Lando’s eye roll could not have been bigger. It didn’t help that you were also wearing an oversized shirt from Daniels’ 2022 Ric Rodeo collection, finding it to be comfortable enough for an overseas flight. 

“Danny’s not even driving!” Lando exclaimed. “And the next race is at the Red Bull Ring. He’s going to be there!”

As a Daniel Ricciardo fan, you were looking forward to all of the content that would be coming up in preparation for the race. You were also looking forward to seeing what Lando had in mind to pass the reserve driver. With surpassing in points out of the question, Lando had to get creative.

“You’re smart, you’ll think of something.”

“You can’t just call me an oyster and then call me smart, it doesn’t work like that.”

“Fine, I’ll stick with oyster.”

“You little-” he clenched his teeth, cutting his words off. You could see him actively trying to mask his smile as his lips pressed together tightly. 

“I have a flight to catch,” you said, taking a moment to reach for his hand. You gave his fingers a squeeze, it was supposed to be a friendly gesture but one that held more meaning than just saying goodbye. 

And then Lando didn’t allow you to let go. The second he felt you pulling away, his grip tightened and he pulled you closer. Your heart started to race when his other hand moved to your chin, tilting your face up to his.

“Tell me why I shouldn’t use my last 12 seconds right now?” He whispered.

You had an answer. You had about three answers, three good reasons why he shouldn’t kiss you outside the doors of the hotel. For starters, there were people that you both knew in the lobby right now and if they just looked outside they would be left with questions neither of you could answer.

Neither of you could trust employees, within Formula 1 or at the hotel, to not say anything and you didn’t need this getting back to your brothers. 

But most importantly, you didn’t want to share these moments with the world. 

If Lando kissed you again, you wanted to be able to get lost in it. You didn’t want to worry about prying eyes or being interrupted or the media finding out and spinning a story into something that it’s not. 

“Save them,” you said quietly, feeling your heart sink deeper into your chest when he nodded and dropped his arm back to his side. He let go of your hand and reached for the door to the backseat to pull it open for you. 

Lando leaned against the frame of the door, watching as you made sure you had everything that you needed for a full day of airline travel. You opened the belt bag around your waist to confirm your passport, charger and wallet was safely in there. He chuckled when it took you an extra second to find your airpods, but even if you were panicked about missing something, the way Lando looked at you was enough to ease your nerves, momentarily. 

“No daisies?” He asked, referring to the bouquet he had gotten for you last night.

“I can’t bring flowers on a plane, Lando.”

He wasn’t content with that response, “You don’t know that.”

“I do,” you retorted. “I guess you’ll just have to get me some more when I see you in SIlverstone.”

“Shouldn’t you be bringing me flowers? I’m the one who got a podium.” 

Lando was stalling now, he didn’t want to watch you drive off. He didn’t want to go these next few weeks knowing you weren’t anywhere nearby. You would be in two completely different countries.

“Do it again and I’ll think about it,” you flashed him a smile, the last one he’d see from you in a while, before he reluctantly shut the car door. 

You fought the urge to look out the back window and wave at him, just like he fought the urge to send you a text saying ‘have a safe flight’. Those little meaningful actions weren’t something either of you did and you knew that the second one of you crossed that line, it would be so much harder to return to where you were before. 

——————

Two flights, three naps and eight hours of podcasts later, you landed in London. You were exhausted, starving and making a mental note to call Lando and thank him for hooking you up with a place to stay because the absolute last thing you wanted to do right now was to find somewhere to sleep.

You texted Thea, your friend who was getting married and told her you landed. She responded almost immediately asking if you wanted to grab drinks but you were ready to call it a night and assured her you’d call her tomorrow. 

You were half asleep in the uber, not even caring to look out the window to make sure you were headed in the right direction. You confirmed the address that Lando sent you and closed your eyes until the driver quietly woke you up when he stopped in front of the white period building. 

The flat was stunning, you could tell that much when you stepped outside. Even with the night sky casting over it, this home was elegant and not something you could ever afford. 

Rolling your suitcase up to the front steps, you pulled your phone out to double check the numbers that Lando had sent you. You typed in a six-digit code and waited only a second for the mechanism to unlock. You pushed the door open and jumped when an alarm started going off.

It took you a moment to get your bearings and find the next text that shared the code to disarm the system, but when the house finally quieted down and you were certain there were no other codes you needed to enter, you let yourself relax.

The flat had high ceilings with period features throughout, including a beautiful marble fireplace in the living room, large windows that led out to a stunning garden view and a huge semi-open kitchen floor plan that you couldn’t wait to use when you weren’t tired.

You left the suitcase at the end of the hallway and flipped a light switch on. It wasn’t that you were trying to pry, but you scanned the general area for any photos or memorabilia that would hint at whose place this was.

Unfortunately for you, nothing stood out.

Except for the vase of daisies in the middle of the dining room table. 

You walked over to the table, thinking that they were fake and for decor only, but the second you reached for one of the stems, you knew instantly they were real, and freshly cut.

Which meant someone had been here before you showed up.

Curiosity getting the better of you, you headed towards the fridge, thinking that if someone was staying here, there would be groceries put away. You yanked the door open and found your assumptions to be correct. There was food in there.

And by the looks of a lot of the expiry dates, this food was purchased today.

You needed answers and you needed to know if Lando was incorrect about the homeowner being away.

You wiped your eyes as you scrolled to find Lando’s contact name in your phone. There was a really good chance you were delusional and there was in fact no food in the fridge and you were hallucinating the flowers because of how exhausted you were, but it all seemed real.

Lando answered on the first ring. 

“Hey,” his voice chimed through the receiver, you could practically hear his smile. “How was your flight?”

“Yeah, good,” but when your 'good' 'was cut off by a very audible yawn, you heard Lando chuckle into the phone.

“Tired?”

“Very,” you laughed as well, leaning against the counter as you eyed the flowers again. “Hey, are you sure there’s no one staying here?”

“At the flat?” You heard a bit of shuffling on his end, like he was moving to a different location to talk to you. “No, no ones there. Just you.”

“So why am I staring at a vase of freshly picked daisies and why is the fridge stocked?”

He laughed again, what you would have given to actually be with him and hear it. You weren’t even sure what country he was currently in, or if he was somewhere in an airport waiting for a layover, but you knew you would have much rather preferred he was with you in London.

Not because you had feelings for him or whatever, it was just easier to talk face to face than over the phone.

“Well,” Lando took a breath. “Daisies are your favourite flower and you need to food to survive so-”

“You did this?” 

“You sound surprised.”

“I just-” you opened the fridge again. “When did you-” you picked up a head of lettuce and then opened up the drawer filled with an assortment of meat and cheese. “How did you-”

“I asked a friend to pick up some things,” Lando finally cleared things up. “Ria lives in the area, she went grocery shopping and picked up the flowers. I just didn’t want you to walk into an empty flat.”

“You’re so sweet,” you tucked the phone between your cheek and shoulder as you walked back over to the flowers. Another yawn passed through your lips and Lando laughed yet again, but you didn’t want your fatigue to be the reason why you had to hang up. “I’m going to get used to seeing the flowers, you know?”

“I know,” Lando agreed. “I’ll just have to keep buying them for you.”

“Or just plant your own,” you suggested. “Have a nice shrub of them in your yard. I’m sure they can grow in Monaco.”

“I’ll think about that- oh, hang on a second, yeah?” 

Before you could answer, Lando muted himself on his end. You wouldn’t have blamed him if when he came back he abruptly needed to go, he had a long travel day as well. 

While you waited for his return, you grabbed your suitcase and wheeled it down the hall, on the search for a bedroom. The first door on the right was a bathroom, the one across from it was an office and it wasn’t until you reached the last door on the left did you find the master bedroom.

Flipping on the light, an abstract painting of a vintage car hanging above the bed took you by surprise. It was a bright blue painting and it stood out, not in a good way, amongst a lot of the neutral decor. 

But again, there were no personal mementos. 

You checked out the ensuite, making sure the hot water actually worked, before heading to the closet. The racks were lined with a variety of jackets and jumpers, you assumed belonging to a guy given the size and styles. 

You really shouldn’t have been snooping, this wasn’t your flat, you were simply a guest, but the light blue hoodie called to you and you tugged on the sleeve to check out the design on the front.

“Sorry about that, had another call,” Lando’s voice made you flinch, not expecting him to come back so soon.

But your attention wasn’t on the phone call. It was on the jumper with a white logo in the top right corner, a logo that held the initials LN.

You tugged down the collar to confirm that this was in fact one of Lando’s merch items and not just fan made. LN4 was printed on the dark tag.

You cleared your throat, “Lando.”

“Yes?”

“Who’s flat am I in right now?”

A bit of silence followed by a faint hum, “Why?”

“Answer the question.”

“A friend’s.”

“Whose friend?”

Another pause and then a very hesitant and uncertain, “Yours?”

You let go of the sleeve and walked back into the bedroom, “Do you live here? Is this your flat?”

His silence was enough of an answer. You scoffed and you knew that Lando could hear your eye roll through the phone.

“I didn’t think you’d agree to stay there if I told you it was my place,” you quickly explained, his voice raising with humour before you could think about arguing with him. “I just thought the offer would scare you off because, I mean- it’s a little weird.”

“It’s very weird,” you corrected, eyes darting all over the room. He lived here. “Lando I can’t sleep in your bed.”

“I haven’t had sex in it with anyone, if you’re wondering.”

“Well I wasn’t, but thank you for clearing that up.”

Lando laughed, “Come on, Y/N. It’s better than a hotel or an airbnb or crashing on someone’s couch.”

But you still weren’t sure how you felt now that you knew this was Lando’s place. He might not have lived here full time, you were fully aware of his home in Monaco, but this was his flat. He handed over the keys to one of his homes like it was nothing, like the thought of you staying anywhere else was absurd. 

You had visited Milan dozens of times and Pierre never once suggested that you stay at his place. Carlos was the same, never thinking of offering up his home if he knew you were travelling to Madrid. 

You were friends with both of those guys, Pierre was on thin ice, but regardless, you considered them to be the two drivers you knew the most, that you were the closest to.

And Lando texted you his address in seconds, not giving you any other option.

You sat down on the edge of the bed, the palm of your hand curving over the luxurious duvet. If you closed your eyes and fell backwards on top of the mattress, you’d be out in seconds. 

“Hey,” Lando’s tone grew quiet, knowing he had lost you for a moment as you got sucked into your own thoughts. “Have I dropped down the driver ranking again?”

“No, you idiot,” you rubbed the corner of your eye. “I’m just thinking about how this is definitely a bit weird, but also really sweet and if Charles knew where I was staying right now, he’d run you off the track next race.”

“I can handle Charles,” there was a false arrogance to him. Driver Charles was a lot different compared to Older Brother Charles. “Just enjoy these next few weeks, okay? I know it’ll be a little boring without me there to annoy you, but try, yeah?”

“I’m going to rack up your electricity bill,” you decided, a devious sort of smile playing on your lips. You glanced towards his closet, “I’m also going to burn all of your merch.”

Lando sighed loudly, “You know what, I’ll pick my battles. This isn’t one of them.”

“So you don’t care if I set all of your LN4 hoodies to flames?”

“Well you don’t wear them anywhere so you might as well.”

“You’ve never asked me to,” you pointed out, but then couldn’t remember if that was actually true or not. There might have been a time when he offered you a hoodie or a shirt and you probably rolled your eyes at the mere thought of putting it on because that would mean you couldn’t rep DR3. 

“I shouldn’t have to ask,” Lando scoffed. “You wear Danny’s merch.”

“Well yeah I love him.”

Lando grumbled quietly into the receiver, something about Daniel not even driving, followed by a few more seconds of loud rustling. He started saying something else but his voice was muffled so you only assumed he had pulled the phone away from his face to talk to someone nearby.

This time when he came back, his tone shifted. 

“Hey, so I-”

“Have to catch your flight?” You asked, trying not to let the disappointment seep through into your words. 

“Yeah it appears so,” Lando sounded just about as annoyed as you felt.

You didn’t want to draw out this goodbye, “Good luck this weekend.”

“Thank you, I’ll, uh- I’ll talk to you later, I guess?” He sounded unsure. “I mean, I won’t call you because you’ll be asleep but yeah I’ll text you or you can text me if you want, but you don’t-”

“Lando,” you cut off his nonsensical rambling. He hummed and you could just picture his wide eyes and boyish features in your mind. “I’ll talk to you later. Have a safe flight."

ynleclerc

liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and 14,302 others

ynleclerc thea's getting married and we're about to make it everyone's problem

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theaa_coleman i love you !!!

carlossainz55 when are you getting married

ynleclerc is this a proposal? carlossainz55 you wish

userrnorris i would give anything to see lando or carlos as her date to the wedding PLEASE

smooth_operator55 wait this explains why she wasn't at the race this weekend!!

paddockgf oh phew i thought it was bc charles banned her from hanging around w the drivers💀💀

You told Lando you’d talk to him later but that couldn’t have been further from the truth. 

You didn’t text him when you woke up, being bombarded with calls from your friends and he didn’t call you when he landed, exhausted himself from his travel days.

And then the week went on. 

The Hen party for Thea was chaotic. You were drunk for nearly 48 hours and hungover for the next 24. You didn’t leave Lando’s flat for a few days, needing to recuperate and it wasn’t until Tuesday afternoon did you finally feel like yourself again. 

You wanted to watch the races live, but your weekend was packed so you weren’t able to actually see what happened until days later when you curled up on the couch and turned on F1TV. 

Just like you expected, a lot of Daniel Ricciardo content at the Red Bull Ring, but even his presence wasn’t enough to distract you from a certain McLaren driver. 

Lando ended up qualifying eighth, not his best but also not his worst. If you had watched live there would have been a sort of obligation to text him saying ‘good job’ but you also weren’t sure if that was something you could do. It wasn’t as though you wanted to text Carlos and congratulate him on his P4 starting position. 

The race, for better or for worse, was a pretty dull one. No major incidents, nothing that caused you any concern. Charles started from fifth and worked his way up to a third place podium. Carlos started fourth and stayed there. And somewhere during those 71 laps, Lando dropped back through the grid and finished eleventh, unable to claim any points for that weekend.

Again, if you had watched it live you might have even called him. You might have said he still had a good weekend and that it could have been worse, but you were watching it two, almost three, days later. 

The worst part was you had been so disconnected from the outside world these last few days that you weren’t even aware of the driver standings until right now. You had stayed off Instagram except to share a few photos and aside from that, your phone died a lot throughout the chaos that was this weekend. 

You didn’t see anything. You didn’t see Lando’s race results. You didn’t see his post-race interviews where he sounded defeated over the lack of pace from the McLaren. You didn’t see the tweets from fans saying that Lando was missing his good luck charm (you). 

There was a lot you missed, but there was also a lot you were completely oblivious to.

You didn’t know that Lando thought about calling you after the race because he knew that hearing your voice would make his day a little better after that run. You weren’t aware that Lando paced back and forth in his hotel room, asking himself if you really were his good luck charm. And you didn’t know he changed his flights so he could leave Austria early and head to the next country the race was being hosted in.

Which just so happened to be England. 

He told his team it was because he wanted to visit some family before the race weekend. There was a decent sized gap between the Austrian Grand Prix and Silverstone, so no one thought anything of it, and it wasn’t necessarily a lie, he would go see his family, but it just wasn’t the whole truth.

So he landed in London Wednesday night.

It had been over a week now since you two last talked and it wasn’t that you were ignoring him, you just didn’t know what to say.

Days had passed since the race and you just assumed it was too late to say anything about it. Would he have even wanted a pity ‘hey I still think you did pretty good’ sort of text? He knew you weren’t planning on watching the race live, so that kind of message held the risk of sounding insincere. 

And Lando hadn’t reached out either, assuming you were enjoying your time with your friends, which you were. But you missed his voice, you missed his laugh, you missed talking to him. 

But there would be no calls or texts exchanged for the rest of the week. 

Again, you didn’t know what to say and then all of a sudden it was Saturday, Thea’s wedding and then you really weren’t on your phone. You were at the brides’ beck and call since dawn, you needed to be there to take the champagne away when she tried to pour another glass before noon. 

If you had been on your phone, you would have noticed Lando posted a handful of photos on his story and on his photography account, showcasing that he was in London. After spending the last few days with friends and family in nearby towns, he arrived in the city.

And he wanted you to know it. 

He didn’t want to come across as needy or annoying and come straight out tell you he was in London, so he teased the city on his social media, hoping that you’d see it and call or text him. It was an immature move, but Lando wasn’t sure where the two of you stood so it was all he could come up with.

But of course you had no idea what Lando’s whereabouts were. Your priority was the bride and then after the wedding, your priority was getting drunk with your friends at the reception. 

Lando was the last thing on your mind. 

Until he grew impatient that you hadn't reached out, so he was left with no choice but to leave a comment on your most recent instagram post.

ynleclerc

liked by carlossainz55, charles_leclerc and 18,204 others

ynleclerc need my friends to stop getting married, im tired of crying in pretty dresses (so much love for you 2 tho)

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theaa_coleman i love you i love you thank you for holding my tissues all day

charles_leclerc congrats to the happy couple !!

arthur_leclerc always the bridesmaid never the bride?

yn/leclerc im 21 leave me alone

landonorris orange suits you

Orange suits you. 

Was that him telling you that you looked good in orange or was he being sly and using orange as a euphemism and he was in fact saying that he suited you? Or maybe this was him hinting at wanting to see you in the McLaren garage or maybe Lando didn’t think before leaving that comment and it was unintentionally causing you to spin out. 

It didn’t help that you were drunk and to you, the room seemed to quite literally be spinning. Was it actually? You could be easily convinced it was.

As you sat on the bench outside of the hall, your heeled foot tapped against the carpeted floor. God your feet were killing you. This dress had rough seams that made your skin feel like it was on fire. Your earrings kept getting stuck on your hair but none of that was bothering you as much as Lando’s comment was.

What the fuck did it mean?

You don’t talk for a week and a half and that’s the first thing he says? 

You blinked a few times as you focused on his name on the app, clicking it to lead to his own profile and then clicking his photo to see what he had been up to within the last 24 hours.

It took you a second to piece together the photos you were looking at, but that fucker was in London. 

He was in London and he didn’t tell you? You’re staying at his flat. What was going to happen? You’d go back there after the wedding ended and run into him just sitting on the couch? 

Next thing you knew, you were calling him. 

You lost count of how many rings you heard before he finally answered. 

“Hey,” he sounded arrogant, like he was expecting your call. Or maybe you were just reading into it because you didn’t know what was going on and you had one too many shots with the bridal party and Lando said that orange suited you.

“Orange.”

He laughed, “Excuse me?”

You didn’t mean to say that out loud. Your intention was to call and ask if he was in London but for some reason you couldn’t get his comment out of your mind, so you rolled with it. 

“You think orange suits me?”

He paused. Or maybe he didn’t. The seconds were blurring together and you didn’t have a good concept of time.

“You’re drunk.”

Did you sound drunk? You didn’t think you sounded drunk. You diverted the conversation.

“You’re in London.”

“Are we just stating the obvious?”

“Why did you-” you hiccuped, you definitely sounded a little drunk now. A breath passed your lips as you regained a coherent thought. “You think orange suits me?”

“I do,” there was no hesitancy on his part. “I think you look beautiful in anything, but orange is definitely your colour.”

That’s all it took. A few words, a simple compliment, his smile that could be heard through the phone, and your heart was sinking into your chest. You missed him, you missed his voice. A week and a half wasn’t even that long but it was also driving you insane. 

“I didn’t-” you inhaled a breath as your words jumbled together. 

You wanted to tell him that you didn’t watch the race live and you also wanted to apologise for not saying good job and you were still stuck on the fact that he was in London so the next sentence out your mouth wasn’t understandable in the slightest. 

“I didn’t mean to say sorry, in the-” you dragged your hand over your face, trying to think of a word. “In the race, you were- you did last weekend.”

Lando’s laughter was music to your fucking ears. When something was really funny he always inhaled as he laughed and with it came a sort of squeal that was terribly contagious and you found yourself wanting to laugh along, even if you didn’t know what was funny.

Like right now, you didn’t know why he was laughing but you were laughing with him. Was it something you said? You couldn’t even remember what you said. 

When you both finally caught your breath after a minute, you couldn’t stop yourself from saying what was on the forefront of your mind.

“I think I miss you.”

“You think?” Lando repeated. “I know I miss you.”

He missed you.

“Where are you tonight?”

The question wasn’t properly worded, but Lando pieced together what you were asking. Him being able to understand drunk you was weirdly attractive. You didn’t want it to be a recurring thing, but you loved that he wasn’t asking you to repeat yourself or making you feel bad for not making any sense. 

“I’m staying at a friend's place, I didn’t want to bother you at the flat.”

“What if I want you to bother me?”

Lando cleared his throat, “Then I’d get in my car right now.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah,” you said quietly. “Get in your car…” you sat up a bit straighter, glancing towards the room where the reception was taking place. You had spent all day with everyone in there and now there was only one person you wanted to see, “...and come pick me up.”

You could hear the sound of car keys being thrown and caught, followed by the sound of a door opening and closing. 

“Send me your location.”

And you did, accidentally hanging up on him in the process. Lando sent a string of laughing emojis before telling you he’d be there in about fifteen minutes. 

That was enough time for you to chug a few glasses of water and find the bridge and groom to say goodbye. Thea tried to pour another shot down your throat but if anymore alcohol entered your system, you’d start making some really questionable decisions. 

She was content with a hug when you lied and said you would puke on her dress. You wished them well and told them to be safe on their honeymoon. Next you found a few other members of the wedding party and said bye to them before grabbing your clutch and making your way to the front doors of the venue. 

Just in time for Lando to pull up in a sleek black McLaren.

You were so captivated by him just getting out of the car that you froze in place, your heels scraping against the cobblestone beneath you. He wasn’t in a Quadrant sweater, surprisingly, instead opting for a white t-shirt and a pair of dark grey sweats. 

There was already something about a man in grey sweats that had you, and many people, forgetting how to breathe. But Lando in that attire was otherworldly. He looked so good but it was well past midnight so you didn’t how know it was possible for someone to look that good. 

You weren’t even sure how you looked. There was a strong chance your eye makeup was smudged and your face was oily after having product seep into your pores all day. One of the straps of the dress slipped from your shoulder and you quickly adjusted it as Lando approached you, taking in your appearance like he was breathing in fresh air for the first time in months.

“Hi,” you whispered. 

“Hi,” he smiled. He raised his eyebrows when your knee buckled slightly, an indicator that you were in fact drunk but you played it off like nothing happened. “Did you have fun?”

You nodded, looking very uncharacteristically childlike, “I want to go home.”

You didn’t mean for the word home to slip out. You knew Lando’s place wasn’t home, you were only staying there for a few weeks and then you’d be travelling again. 

But even without him there, you felt so comfortable in that flat. You loved cozying up in the bed, you liked having the open kitchen to experiment with, you liked knowing that Lando wanted you there.

So no, it wasn’t home, but it was close enough for the time being and that wasn’t something you could often say, especially with your schedule consisting of trip after trip, hotel after hotel.

Lando reached for your hand. Hearing you refer to his flat as home, even in your drunken state, had his heart skipping a beat. He knew you didn’t mean it, he knew you just wanted to leave the party, but it meant more to him than you’d ever realise. This was something he would hold onto for as long as you’d allow him to. 

“Okay Little Leclerc, let's get you home.”

masterlist here

taglist: @moneymasnn@thotd-f1 @masonspulisic @mcmuppet@f1-futurewag-16-3-4-63 @alilstressyandlotdepressy @themisric @happydazzz123 @moonxblossom @norrisleclercf1 @scarlettisconfused @sbgal @e-lisa-bettan @harrysdimple05 @ophcelia if i missed someone im so sorry

[logansargeantsbabymom]

Too Good To Say Goodbye pt4

Lando Norris x Fem!Reader , Logan Sargeant x Fem!Reader

warnings: fingering

Part 1 I Part 2 I Part 3 I Part 4 I part 5 I part 6 I part 7 I part 8 I part 9 I part 10

F1 Masterlist

Follow my instagram account (THATS STRICTLY FOR THIS BLOG) for updates on when i post and fun stuff like that!

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A faint cry is what had awoken me from my slumber. I sat up and rubbed my eyes before making my way to Yelena’s nursery to change and nurse her before burping and rocking her back to sleep.

I’d looked at the time as I rocked her back to sleep reading ‘5:53am’. There was no point in going back to sleep if I had to wake up at 6:30, so I decided that I was gonna go to the kitchen to start breakfast for my family.

On my way to the kitchen, I stopped in the living room grabbing the small bose speaker I had charging before continuing my journey to my big, beautiful kitchen. I opened the fridge and grabbed out enough food to make feed a village. Eggs, Munster Cheese, Turkey Bacon, Turkey Sausages, Greek Yogurt, Granola, Strawberries, Blueberries, Pineapples and Bananas.

I hear faint but heavy footsteps coming close to the kitchen while I mixed seasoning with the eggs before cooking them. I felt arms snake around my waist and a face being nuzzled in the crook of my neck before feeling faint kisses making their way up to my jaw.

“Good Morning beautiful, Did Yelena wake you up again?” I turn around to face my boyfriend before I rake my hand through his crazy bed hair.

“Yes Logan, Yelena did wake me up.” a smirk made its way on my lips as I saw a frown make its way on his.

“I thought I told you to wake me up when she did. You’ve been working too much and you need rest.” he said sincerely. I could never get over the look in his eyes, I could get lost in those greenish blue orbs forever.

“Babe, you think you’re not tired too?” a chuckle makes it way past my lips.

“It doesn’t matter if I’m tired. All that matters is I got her. I got her and I have you, and I’m determined to never let you go again” he said as he snuggled deeper into my body. A piercing sound is what pulled me away from him, it was getting louder and louder until.

“Good Morning sleepy head. Yelena woke up so I heated up some breast milk you have in the freezer and I rocked her back to sleep, we should have about another hour and a half before she wakes up again” Lando said as he walked into our shared bedroom, his feet heavy as they padded against the bedroom floor.

A smile peaks on my face “Thank you handsome. I love you so much, you’re too good to me” I said sleepily as I welcomed Lando back into the comfort of our king size bed.

it had been 4 months since I’ve given birth to Yelena and it had been the best 4 months of my life.

I mean I really did have it all, I had an amazing boyfriend, a wonderful daughter, whom had an amazing dad, I had gotten a job at McLaren as Lando’s food prep and nutrition manager which allowed me to travel with him and keep my daughter with us.

After I’ve gotten the job, one of the first people I told besides Lando, was Logan.

That moment we shared after I’d given birth to Yelena replays in my mind almost every morning and I can’t help but yearn for us to be a happy family together.

We all can’t have what our hearts yearn for though, can we? Not after what Logan did to me, the way he made me feel, how much I wanted to die with every moment I stayed with him, how ungrateful he was whenever I did something for him, the way he hurt me day after day, how he always told me I was crazy when I brought up him not loving me and how he tried to win me back after telling him I was pregnant again before leaving.

Logan was excited to hear that McLaren had offered me the job as Lando’s Food Prep and Nutrition manager seeing as that it would allow not only me to travel with them but Yelena could too. Logan wouldn’t have to resort to seeing her every 2 months or whenever his job could let him escape for a minute.

Traveling with Yelena would be a bit of a hassle but thank god that Lando’s current nutrition manager had 3 more months before his contract was up so that allowed me to mentally prepare myself for having to travel with a baby for work.

“What’re you thinking of?” Lando mumbles against my neck as he rubs his hand up and down my side before they landed on my waist and drawing imaginary circles.

“Us. How lucky I am to have you with me even when I was pregnant and how you stayed, even during the hard nights.” tears welled up in my eyes as I recall some night we had. “How whenever she was keeping me awake with the kicking how’d you stay up with me and rub my belly until she stopped, how you’d wake up whenever I had my weird cravings, because there were so many” I let out a sniffle as the tears that once threatened to fall came pouring down.

a sniffle leaves Lando’s nose “so many” he lets out a light chuckle “and you know what Y/N/N?”

“What?”

“Even though Yelena is not biologically mine, she’s the second best thing that’s happened to me. The Miami win is first, you’re third” a chuckle elapses past my lips as I playfully swat his arm “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. You’re number one, you always have been and you always will be. I wish to live in no world at which you are not in, I’d rather die than let you live without me beside you.”

I’d rather die than let you live without me beside you. If Lando knew about the same dream I’ve been having since that moment between me and Logan in the delivery room I don’t think he’d be saying this. I’ve made my feelings very clear to Logan that night I left our apartment and Lando knows, so why am I dreaming about him, about us being a happy family?

I want to confide in someone about these dreams but I don’t want them to go to Lando with it before I’m ready to tell him. What would Lando think if I did tell him? Would he leave me? Would there be a possible explanation on why I keep having these reoccurring dreams? Do I want to be with Logan? No. No, that one I’m very adamant on. I want nothing to do with Logan relationship wise. I mean he has been a great dad to Yelena but he’s not fit to be my boyfriend or husband, so co-parenting it is for us.

I mean I’m not complaining about that right? I’m the one that left him knowing I was pregnant, I’d be an ass if I showed up to a grand prix walking into the Williams garage being like “Surprise Logan, we have a daughter” you know, I wasn’t that stubborn enough to do that to him.

“We should go back to sleep but I have better plans” a smirk made its way on Lando’s face as he reaches for the covers to put it over our heads. His hand travels lower before they reached the waistband of my already soaked panties, his fingers moving the fabric to the side before moving them between my fold slicking them in my juices. I can feel Lando’s fingers ghosting my aching hole before a cry breaks my heavy breathing.

No, No, please go back to bed I thought “I’ve got her Y/N/N, just stay here and wait for me to come back.” Lando presses a kiss to my lips before he retreats to the nursery. The thought of my boyfriend taking on a dad role turning me on. I fully removed my panties and stuck two fingers in my aching cunt awaiting Lando’s return, before I could actually give myself some pleasure my phone buzzes on the nightstand.

A loud and frustrated sigh leaves my lips as I flip over and look at the caller ID “Logan ‘Merica Sargeant” a shaky breath escapes past my lips as I press answer

“we need to talk”

ENJOYYYYY (i have work)

Taglist

@luckyladycreator2 @itsmiamalfoy @jeffs77 @ilivbullyingjeongin @forevercaffeinated-lee @daemyratwst @gulphulp @callsignwidow @f1wintermoon13 @teenwolf01 @victoriassecret101 @hiireadstuff @formulaal @kazza72584 @zabwlky1999

[justwinginglife]

Hi! I absolutely loveeeee your writing!!! Hopefully you’re still doing requests hehe…

Maybe reader and Hoshina were childhood bffs and then the reader’s family sent her abroad (maybe to serve in another county’s defense force???) but now she’s back in Japan and assigned to the Third Division. And ofc they still make an amazing team and know each other by heart and maybeeeee some feelings start to rise now that they’re adults and all that???

HELLO I'm so happy you love my writing! Of COURSE I'm still doing requests, I'm having too much fun with everyone's prompts so thank you for sending me more suggestions!

No Matter The Distance

You were dreaming of Soshiro again. This time you recalled the memory of when you were eight and you'd tripped and scraped your knees so he carried you home on his back. You were such a crybaby back then. You nearly soaked his shoulder, sobbing from the pain. He sang to you the whole way home so you'd focus on his voice and not your bleeding knees. He surprisingly sang rather well.

"Sing to me again." You mumbled in your sleep as you rolled over onto your side. "I like when you sing... to me..."

When you woke up in the morning, he was neither singing to you nor carrying you, in fact, he wasn't even in the same country as you. It was a rude awakening every time and you still hadn't gotten used to it.

You knew it was naive of you to cling to memories from your past, but when you relived them every night it didn't seem so long ago. But now that you counted, it had been about six years since you'd seen him. You'd known each other since preschool and you'd parted ways when you both turned 18. Your parents thought you'd make a better life for yourself in America so you were shipped overseas, never to see his smiling face again.

You wondered if he dreamed about you too. You wondered if he was even the same person you remembered. It'd been over half a decade- a lot could change. You hoped he was still the same. You knew that was naive too.

You try to quit sulking and you finish getting ready for work. You clock in at 0800 and report for duty. You are surprised to find that your commanding officer has been waiting for you to arrive. She takes in the sight of you as if it's the last time she'll see you. Then she smiles. "Good morning Vice Captain."

You nod to her. "Cap'n. Mornin'. What're all the long looks for?"

Her weight shifts and she clears her throat. "Well, it seems the General has made an alliance with the Japan Anti-Kaiju Defense Force and as a show of good faith, he's sending one of our best soldiers to their side."

You raise an eyebrow. "The Director General himself? Who could be important enough from our team that he'd send so far across the seas?"

She coughs.

OH.

"Maybe, I don't know, the youngest female to make Vice Captain in the shortest amount of time? Maybe someone with, I don't know, Japanese background?"

Yup.

You can't decide if you're honored, nervous, scared, or excited. You haven't been back home in so long. Will it still be the same? The same restaurants, the same stores, the same people. Will they still be waiting for you?

"You fly out at 1200."

Your brows furrow. "You're giving me 4 hours to pack up all my things and say goodbye to everyone? That's ridiculous."

She nods sympathetically. "I know. But he wants to get this show on the road, it seems."

You sigh. "Alright. I'll head back to my place, please assemble the squad before I go so I can give everyone my best wishes."

You pack up your entire apartment in two hours. You have less things than you thought you did. You guess that some small subconscious part of you kept you from collecting too many things that would keep you grounded here. Maybe you always knew you'd return home.

It takes even less time to say bye to everyone. You're ready to ship out in just under three hours and the pilot shrugs, saying you're his only passenger anyway and he can afford to leave early. The Director General lent you his private plane after all.

You can't do anything about your nerves so you make the best of this trip, ordering lavish foods while you read. Your favorite book is one that Soshiro bought for you and the ink from the personal message he wrote on the inside of the front cover is so faded from you constantly rubbing your thumb over it nostalgically.

Soshiro. You'll be there soon.

You sleep through most of the flight. You dream about him again, to no one's surprise at this point.

This time you're both 17, you both snuck out of training together to attend a typical high school party. You were in agreement that the two of you wanted one normal high school experience before you both went off and joined the Defense Force and became stiff, disciplined officers. Of course, you'd tease Soshiro that you couldn't see him ever being stiff or disciplined.

Anyway, you'd been playing spin the bottle and Soshiro's spin landed on you and the both of you ended up in a closet together.

"Well this is a stupid game." He grumbled as he searched for the light to the closet. He would never make you do anything against your will and he found it ridiculous that that's exactly what this game was made for.

But you didn't find it ridiculous. You found it lucky. Your heart was beating loudly in your chest. You grabbed his hand before it reached the light switch and you kissed him in the dark.

He hesitated and then he kissed you back, gently pressing you up against the wall.

When someone knocked on the door seven minutes later, he locked the door and stayed in there with you until he was ready to leave. He must've known if the two of you stepped outside, you'd both go back to acting like nothing happened. Like you had plenty of time to figure out these messy feelings of yours. But neither of you could predict that you wouldn't even be in the same country as him a month later, so you both kept ducking the topic and pushing your feelings for each other down. And then it was too late.

Six years too late, you thought to yourself as your eyes fluttered open. The plane was descending. You were arriving in Japan as last.

You wondered who you'd be serving under and if Soshiro would be in the same platoon. The JAKDF had several divisions, it wasn't guaranteed that you'd even be in the same one as him. You'd been told that the position of Vice Captain had been recently opened at one of the Divisions and you were there to fill that spot. You'd do your best to fill the shoes of whoever came before you and make your team back in America proud.

As you step out of the plane you're greeted by your new teammates in the Third Division. Your eyes scan the crowd and they finally find the person they're looking for.

Your breath catches in your throat and you freeze on the last step of the plane.

He holds a hand out to you to help you down all the way.

"Welcome to the Third Division. I'm Captain Hoshina."

You take his hand and step down the last stair. You don't let go of his hand even when he's introducing you to the troops. You think this might be you dreaming about him again and you don't dare let go just in case.

He doesn't seem to mind. He keeps a firm grip on you and when you've finally greeted everyone he tells them he needs to discuss more matters with you privately.

The two of you enter his office and he closes the door behind him. Before you can speak, he's wrapped you up in a warm hug. "Vice Captain, huh? Impressive." He whispers, still holding you close.

You close your eyes and just soak in his voice. "Not as impressive as you- Captain Hoshina. And here I always thought I'd beat you to Captain when we were kids."

He chuckles and the familiar rumble of his laughter makes your heart skip several beats. He releases you from his arms so he can get a good look at you, but he still holds your hands tight in his. "I really never thought I'd see you again. And look at you now. Gorgeous as ever."

You blush. "Still cheeky I see."

He grins widely. "Still me. Always."

You're relieved. He doesn't seem to have changed at all, just gotten a little taller. And a little more... you gulp, a lot more muscular. You didn't realize it when he was holding you close because you were so focused on the way he smelled and the way he sounded. But now that you were getting a full view of him, you could see the efforts of his training peeking through his shirt. You blush deeper. Thank god he's a little dense and doesn't notice. He's just excited to see you again, he doesn't care if you're flushed or not.

"Hey- dinner on me later? We can go to that diner we liked." He nudges your arm.

You smile. "Yeah? I'm game, especially if you're buying."

He walks you to your room and then leaves you alone to unpack your things. You wish he wouldn't go but you know he has a division to run.

"Captain." You say to yourself, shaking your head. You hoped he would be in the same division as you, but you never could've imagined he'd be working this closely with you. You'll have to pay a visit to the shrine later and thank the gods.

You finish unpacking and you meet Soshiro for dinner in the cutest outfit you can find. You wonder if he'll notice.

He notices.

"So you don't wear the combat suit 24/7?" He teases.

You roll your eyes thinking he's not going to say anything else but then he looks away for a moment.

"You, um... you look real good."

You wonder where his confidence from earlier went. He can get away with calling you gorgeous but now here he is making the word "good" look difficult. You almost laugh.

He opens the door to the restaurant for you and then when you're led to a table, he pulls the chair out for you. You don't remember him being such a gentleman but he was still a teenager last time you saw him. It seems he has grown some after all.

As you eat dinner, you fall back into old rhythms- you steal food off of his plate and he does the same to yours. You even sword fight him with your chopsticks and he laughs the same familiar laugh that you love so much.

Then the drinks start to hit harder and the air seems to change between the two of you.

"So listen..." He starts, cautiously. He seems to get caught up in his own thoughts because he doesn't finish his sentence.

"I'm listening." You nudge him.

He gives you a small, pinched smile. "I don't know how to say this actually." He admits.

You wonder if he's thinking what you're thinking, but it's been so long you can't be sure. "You can say anything to me, you know that." You try to reassure him so that he continues.

He sighs. "Do you... remember going to a party? Back in high school?"

Ah. So he is thinking the same thing as you. You nod slowly.

He clears his throat uncomfortably. "Do you... remember what happened at that... party?"

You nod again, your cheeks starting to heat up at the thought of that mind-blowing kiss.

"It's just... we never... we never talked about it. And then you were just gone- just like that. And I know it's stupid to be bringing it up again so many years later, but you're the exact same as you've always been and I'm the same as I've always been and I just thought..." He trails off.

"You just thought...?" You lean in, hoping to god he finishes his sentence.

"I just thought... maybe now we could... talk about it? If-if you wanted."

"Okay, what do you have to say about it?"

He laughs at that. "Boy, you really don't make this easy do you? You never have."

"Sorry. I'll go first then, okay?"

He nods and waits for you to speak.

"I regretted it for six years."

He winces.

You backtrack. "Wait, sorry that's not how it was supposed to come out. Now you're making this hard."

You both laugh. Then he takes your hand.

"I think what you meant to say was you regretted leaving it the way we did?"

You nod. You're glad he's still able to understand you so well even after all these years.

"I do too. I thought, god, if I could just get one chance to tell her how I felt I'd do it. And now you're here and I'm stumbling over my words. But I need to say this. Because I can't wait another six years for you to find out that I love you. Because I love you. Always did, and still do."

You start to cry before you even realize it's happening. He immediately rushes over to your side of the table to brush the tears away.

"Hey, hey, did I say something wrong? Tell me. What's going on in that beautiful mind of yours?"

You can't figure out how to put the words together properly so you kiss him. He kisses you back more intensely than he did back then and you wish you can just freeze time so he can keep kissing you like this. Then he pulls away.

"You know, love, I like the way you're thinking but you still haven't given me an official answer."

You laugh. "I love you too- I should think it was obvious."

"Some of us only have half the brain that you do and need verbal confirmation."

"You got that right." You tease.

He wraps you up tight in his arms.

"So does this make us boyfriend-girlfriend?" He asks in his best "high schooler" voice, grinning like an idiot from ear to ear.

You roll your eyes. "Take me to the prom and we'll see about that."

He laughs. "Just let me date you already damnit."

You kiss him again.

"Was that a yes?"

You nod.

"Okay, again, I'm just checking."

[vampzteeth]

Carlos de Vil meeting a past childhood friend that he kinda abandoned when he and the core 4 went to Auradon? His friend is now kinda bitter and cold towards him...never getting over how he never even said a proper goodbye or tried to visit.. (there were also some pining so, tension maybe?)

Oh finally angst I love you so much

Give up, Please. | Descendants

Warnings: angst and apathy

When you and Carlos were kids you were inseparable. Everyone knew that. Of course, that lasted only until Carlos and the rest of the group were invited to Auradon. You were the only one not invited to the prestigious school on the mainland, none of you were given a choice. Those who were invited had to go, and those who weren't had to stay on the isle, alone.

Just a couple-ish years later they extended an invitation to you, though it acts more as a bitter reminder than anything. All you wanted was to say no, but once again you had no choice. Just looking at the piece of paper left a sour taste in your mouth.

After a two hour drive, you finally go through the gates of Auradon Prep. Thinking back to when you and Carlos were a duo, you would've been thrilled to get your own invitation so you could see him again. But now you dread the idea of seeing any of your former friends. What if they've become more successful than you will ever be? What if they forgot about you, and replaced the empty spot with some princess girl?

Your thoughts are interrupted by the driver handing you your single bag of luggage, then pointing to your tour guide. For a second you don't recognize him, but sadly you can never forget that smile. Carlos. Damnit. Swallowing down your worries, you nod in greeting, saying nothing to the boy. I mean, what're you supposed to say to your former best friend (and crush) who abandoned you?

After a nearly silent tour, Carlos turns to you worriedly, as if finally being fed up with your coldness towards him. Those dumb puppy dog eyes always got to you, obviously they still do. "I really missed you." is all he says to you at first, not directly acknowledging what happened.

"Yeah." Great response. Perfect, actually. Luckily, it's the end of the tour, and you're at your dorm. "Thanks for showing me around, Carlos." No nickname or anything, just straight to the point.

His heart hurts hearing your tone, guilt eating him up inside. He thought you would be so happy to see him after so long, as if you'd been waiting for him ever since he left. He never considered that you would be upset with him for leaving without an explanation... Or maybe he never wanted to consider that.

After that, he tries his best to reconnect with you, practically cornering you while you're working on potion recipes Mother Gothel sent with you. "So.... How's the isle been? I haven't been there in a while."

It's like a stab to the heart. "It's been how it's always been. Lonely but crowded... Boring." He deflates at your response, finally letting the reality of his mistakes set in.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have left you like that." He's focusing on what he doesn't need to be.

"You could've left just fine if you had told me about it and sent me letters, Carlos. You know that." It's clear that you have no plans to forgive him, it's obvious to everyone but him. Even the students who're just in the kitchen for a midnight snack who watch the encounter from afar.

He stops trying to go back to exactly how it was after that. Sometimes you're assigned a project with him, and it's fairly cordial. He still looks at you longingly in every class together. When he's not looking, you do too.

I enjoyed this.

[allywthsr]

THE SONG OF OUR LOVE | (h. lewis)

summary: a normal day in the Wroetoshaw household

wordcount: 2.1k words

pairing: harrylewis x singer!reader

warnings: none

notes: first imagine! please be nice and comment your thoughts! The song Y/N is writing is : all 4 nothing by lauv :)

On this surprisingly warm Tuesday morning, you woke up at around 9:00 am. Despite having an early studio session, which didn’t start before 11:00 am, you decided to get up early.

Your boyfriend of eight years is still sound asleep on your shared bed.

The cutest little snores came out of his slightly opened mouth.

You looked into the mirror you had put up on the wall, seeing your T-shirt, well, Harry’s T-shirt, an old Sidemen merch you pulled out of the other side of the closet a few days ago. And an old pair of shorts you bought from your favorite shop when you first moved to London.

On your tiptoes, you sneak out of your bedroom trying not to wake up your favorite person.

You had this song idea stuck in your head and you needed to write it down or record it somehow. Thinking of the recording app you had installed on your phone, you went to your home studio, which the boys of your crew had set up for you.

You opened the door and to the left, all of your guitars were hanging on the wall. Yet your favorite guitar was standing next to the fluffy white couch you picked out for this room. Wanting to have a comfy and nice looking space for when you were creative.

The couch was mostly used by your boyfriend Harry when he was lounging on it while listening to your recording or mostly writing melodies and lyrics.

Across from the couch you had your little setup. A table where you placed your monitor, attached to the table is a microphone which you could move around to any position you‘d like, some noise-canceling headphones were placed on top of the microphone, ready to be picked up. And last but not least, the matching white fluffy chair, where you spend hours and hours trying to write the perfect song.

When you woke up, at around 1:00 am, when Harry went to bed after a little work dinner with Callux, Calfreezy, Chip, and Will (which turned into a ’who can down the most Sambuca shots in 10 seconds‘ challenge), you had this song stuck in your head. You just needed to write it down somehow, too scared that you wouldn’t remember it when you went to the actual studio.

You sat down on your couch and picked up the guitar next to you. Getting your phone out, you opened the recording app and pressed play.

You started to play the guitar quietly trying to play the melody you had stuck in your head.

After finding the right tune you started to hum quietly.

”I‘m so in love, I‘m so in love

I don’t ever wanna stop this ride that we’re on

I don’t ever wanna say goodbye

Then all of these nights they would be just for nothing“

Thinking of Harry, you wrote another love song. This boy is stuck in your head and you can’t seem to get him out of there, not that you wanted to.

The thought of saying goodbye to him made your heart clench. After being in a relationship for a bit longer than eight years and knowing each other since primary school, you couldn’t imagine a life without him.

He was your soulmate, and you were his.

You’ve spent so many nights talking, laughing and just enjoying each other’s presence while both of you had a busy day ahead, often oversleeping in the morning and being late to important meetings, these nights couldn’t be for nothing.

”Third of October

We were never sober

First few times that we hung out

But we fell in love somehow“

Third of October, the day that Harry asked you to be his. It was back in Guernsey. You guys went for a walk and that’s where he asked you.

The first time you hung out with him as in ‘I like him more than a friend‘ was at parties. With him being 19 and you 18, you were allowed to legally drink alcohol and both of you did that. A lot. You don’t remember much, but some of your friends took pictures of you that first night you went out together. It was in July 2015 and you came to London for a visit, Harry insisting to go for a ‘few pints‘. The few pints turned into a few shots and before you realized both of you were peppered.

The picture shows you on a bench near a park as Harry clung to you while you were trying to hold your puke in.

Not one of your greatest moments but definitely a key one for your relationship.

After that you started to visit Harry more often in London, always going out to clubs but you guys also had your quiet moments.

Cuddling with a raging hangover after a wild night out. Or playing Mario Kart when you both couldn’t sleep, getting too angry at the other for throwing blue or red shells.

In October he came to Guernsey and that’s where it happened.

”First time that I met you

I didn't have a damn clue

That I love everything about you

Now I can't think of life without you“

The first time you met him was the first day of primary school. You instantly clicked and hit it off perfectly. With playdates, sleepovers, and exploring the island together.

It was clear from the beginning to both of your parents that you would end up together.

You never thought of Harry that way until you turned 16. Suddenly your heart skipped a beat when you saw him, you felt nervous to talk to him and whenever you guys touched, you thought a lightning struck through your body.

Thinking back to that time, brought a smile to your lips, not able to imagine a life without him anymore.

”Eh, did you know that you're my whole heart?

Eh, did you know that I never stop? No

Giving you everything I got 'cause I'm so

I'm so in love, I'm so in love“

You couldn’t believe how lucky you were to have Harry by your side. At this point, if he would leave, you would follow him, because he‘s yours and you’re his.

”and then just repeating the beginning and maybe another verse not sure about that yet“

You told basically yourself so you wouldn’t forget what you wanted to do with the rest of the song.

Just as you were about to press the stop recording button, the door to your studio opened and a very sleepy Harry came through it.

”what are you doing? I woke up and you weren’t by my side anymore“

You let out a laugh, ”I had this song idea stuck in my head since you came home. I needed to record it somehow.“

You put the guitar back onto its stand making sure the app was still recording, as you loved putting little extras of talking at the beginnings or endings of songs.

”Oh really? Can I listen to it?“ Harry came closer to you. You stood up and gave him a hug.

”I wanna record a demo in the studio later and then I can show you,“ Harry not being happy with this answer looked at you with a pout on his lips.

You giggled and kissed his lips, which just looked absolutely delicious this morning, with his beard being a bit longer than usual.

Harry being Harry, tried to deepen the kiss.

”No Harry come on, I have to go to the studio soon and you have meetings and a video shoot later, we don’t have time.“

”I only need five minutes, Y/N please.“

You shake your head and looked at him with your stern look.

Harry let out a sigh.

”Get a girlfriend, they said, it’s going to be fun, they said,“ he looked at you playful.

You slapped his chest, and now it was your turn to pout.

”Harry I‘d love to, but we really have no time. Later, alright? I wanted to ask you something anyway,“ you loosened your arms from the embrace you still shared. ”I wanted to go to Talia later, to talk about recording a song together, do you wanna come? Talia said Simon is going to be there too.“

”Yeah sure,“ he nodded while a grin started to form on his face, ”but if you want to see Mushu, you can just say so, you know. Don’t have to pretend that you want to record with Talia.“

You looked at him offended. You loved Mushu, ever since T and Simon got him, you‘ve been nagging Harry to get a dog. He‘s still refusing, constantly reminding you what happened to Herb. Your argument, that you both were practically kids and weren’t even able to take care of yourself when you got little Herb, does not convince Harry in any way.

”I love my Talia and we‘ve talking about recording music together for ages now. Even thought about making a whole album and just call it ’the sidewomen‘ to get more money, you know using your name and stuff,“ you grinned at him. ”But yeah, Mushu is also a reason I wanna go there,“ now changing into your baby voice, ”I mean have you seen that sweet fluffy face? He’s a furball, how can you not love him?“ A smile appears on your face just at the thought of Mushu and his incredibly soft fur.

”You know, sometimes I‘m scared you will leave me for a dog,“ Harry voiced his concern.

”Maybe you should start barking before I actually do.“

”I love you, Y/N, I really do.“

Your heart forms into a puddle and the pout appears on your lips again.

”I love you too, you’re the sweetest.“

You shared a kiss, as Harry’s hand connected with your right ass cheek, creating a loud slap sound.

”HARRY,“ you let out a shriek.

”I would love you even more if you would finally join me in the bedroom again.“

A grin appears on your face.

”Alright, but we really have no time. Let me just save the recording and then I‘ll come.“

With Harry leaving the room, you turned around and walked to your phone which still lays on the couch, where you left it.

You pressed the button, to stop recording. With a smile you saved it, making sure you could hear Harry and you talking, as you knew what to put at the end of the song you just recorded.

Taking your phone with you, you walked to the bedroom where Harry was waiting for you.

/////////////////////

When you and Harry both returned from the duties you had for the day, it was around 4:00 pm. You’ve been in the studio all day, recording the song you thought of this morning.

And Harry had a recording session with the boys for more Sidemen and Side+.

You’ve been excited all the time you’ve spent in the studio to finally show Harry the new song.

With Harry lounging on the couch, typing away on his phone, as you walked through the door of your living room, you couldn’t wait to be in his arms again.

You threw yourself on top of him. Harry immediately put his arms around you and squeezing you close. With your head propped up on his chest and the perfect view of his face, you couldn’t believe he was yours.

”Hiya“, you smiled at him, looking into his eyes.

”Hey there“, he smiled back at you, as he started to rub his hands up and down your back.

”I have the first demo version of the new song I started on today, you wanna listen to it?“

Before he answered, he moved your legs on both sides of his and sitting up straight, so you sat on his lap.

”What a question, of course Y/N. Show me right now.“

You giggled at his serious expression and pulled out your phone where the producer of the studio saved one of the versions.

”But have in mind, this is only a demo version, it’s not perfect and still a lot is missing.“

”As if I care, just show me.“

You selected the file of the final demo version and clicked play. Turning up the volume a bit more and your voice filled the room.

”I'm so in love…“

After the last chorus was played Harry wanted to start talking, but you only placed your index finger on his lips to shush him.

Harry looked at you confused with a tilted head, curious what’s gonna come after the song was finished and then he heard his own voice.

”You know, sometimes I‘m scared you will leave me for a dog.“

”Maybe you should start barking before I actually do.“

”I love you, Y/N, I really do.“

”I love you too, you’re the sweetest.“