#i know i said i would try to write out him going through with the actual changes but I dunno guys I'm not really feeling it

[kitten4sannie]

two player game

pairing: gamer boy! yunho x gf! reader

genre: smut with zero plot

summary: you find something worthwhile to occupy your attention while your boyfriend is wrapped up in his current save file.

w.c: 1.7k

warnings: nasty dom! yuyu (bro gets a bit whiny), tiny bit bratty mostly good girl! reader, pet names + name calling, praise + degradation, SIZE KINK 🗣️🗣️🗣️, monster cock yunho agenda, implied throat/hole training, manhandling, edging, cockwarming w throat, messy oral + deep-throating, finger sucking, a (rough) quick fuck bc yunho cums in 0.5 seconds, breeding + bulge kink, creampie <3

a/n: as a certified yunwhore i simply couldn’t pass up the opportunity to write about gamer boy yuyu ~~ honestly i have no excuse for this tbh i just need him so baddddd and this is what i have to do to keep the voices at bay 😔✊🏼 anygays, enjoy lovelies! and if you liked, please consider sharing your thots with me :3 <3

“You said you would stop playing after you finished that level, Yun, come on,” you whined to your boyfriend, who was currently balls deep in the newest video game he just bought. It should’ve been you he was balls deep in, yet here you were, third wheeling to an inanimate object. 

Yunho ducked and weaved around your waving hands that were currently trying to block his view from the flatscreen tv he was locked in on, sitting up from the slouched position he had on the sofa you both were lounging on. 

“Ugh,” you huffed, throwing yourself back into the couch, your arms crossing over your chest. “Whatever.” 

He turned his head for a moment to look at you apologetically, reminiscent of a golden retriever that just got scolded. “I’m sorry, baby, I swear, I’ll get off soon. I’m just…at a really good part right now.” 

“You said that twenty minutes agoooo.” You leaned against Yunho, your cheek squishing into his large shoulder, pawing at his nearest thigh. “Why can’t you play with me, instead of your stupid game?” 

“Oh, I see.” Yunho raised an eyebrow at you, glancing at you through his peripheral vision. “Someone’s in heat, huh?” 

You let out a whimper, kneading at his upper thigh. “I want you, Yun…Please, pay attention to me~” 

Yunho simply spread his thighs apart, your gaze shifting from his mischievous eyes to his poorly concealed cock still trapped inside his black sweatpants. He grunted, reaching down to adjust it, moving his thick length over so that it laid comfortably across the thigh closest to you. “You can have me, princess. I’m right here.” 

Just as you were about to pounce on him, Yunho grasped the bottom of your face in between his slender fingers. “Ahh, ahh, ahh.” Chuckling at the sight of your squished cheeks and confused face, he leaned in, whispering, “Go ahead and cockwarm me, baby, with that pretty little mouth of yours. You can do that for me while I finish this part, mm?” 

The sick bastard was toying with you. Well, two could play at that game. Licking your lips, you got down onto your knees in front of Yunho, fitting yourself in between his open thighs. Without saying a word, you began to run your fingers along his soft length over the material of his pants, tracing the outline of it, feeling it harden underneath your fingertips, making sure to rub your thumb over his pronounced tip, knowing it was sensitive. 

As if on cue, a small whimper escaped Yunho’s straining throat, his eyebrows screwing together as if to concentrate harder, refusing to look down at you. 

Filled with determination to interrupt his gaming, you tugged the waistline of his sweatpants down, your thighs squeezing together from the way his dripping cock smacked heavily up into his lower abdomen. You wrapped your hand around it, humming at how warm it felt within your grasp, lowering yourself down to slowly drag your tongue from the base up to the tip, licking around the tip until it shined. Lightly sucking it into your mouth, you palmed his balls one at a time, squeezing them suddenly, earning another whimper from your boyfriend. 

“You’re playing dirty, princess,” Yunho grunted, pressing his back into the couch, glancing down at you just in time to watch a good majority of his pulsing cock disappear down your throat. “Fuck, what a good slut…” He stroked the top of your head like he would with a cat, nodding approvingly. “I trained your throat well, haven’t I? Now, stay just like that while I play, okay?” 

Your cheeks grew warm from hearing your boyfriend’s polarizing praise, unable to keep yourself from letting his thick length push even deeper down into your throat, breathing shallowly through your nose, your lips already stinging at the corners. “Mmmrfff….” You stayed still for as long as you could with his oversized cock pressing against your tongue and throat, beads of saliva dripping past your mouth and down along his slick skin, using your hand to lube up what you couldn’t fit inside your mouth in the meantime. 

Yunho shuddered from underneath your touch, his half-closed eyes shifting downwards to burn the image of his tiny girlfriend, who was currently being swallowed by one of his many hoodies, trying her absolute best to fit his big cock inside her mouth. Your stark size differences always made him throb, made him want to take advantage of them in every way he could. “Look at you, taking all of me like that, baby…Take some more, okay?” he exhaled, sliding his slender fingers into your hair and bucking his hips up, fucking himself into your tight, warm throat. 

“Mmnn…!” you moaned back, squeezing your hands into his large thighs, feeling his muscles tighten up underneath your fingertips. You were so wet already, you had no choice but to squeeze your bare thighs together as a poor attempt to keep from soaking the carpet underneath you. Being enveloped in your boyfriend’s warm cologne and clothes while he ruthlessly shoved his cock down your throat was simply too much for a sensitive girl like you to handle without creaming yourself. 

“So tight, princess, just like your wet little cunt, huh?” he groaned out, opting to wrap his fingers around the back of your neck and continue shoving himself into your throat, rolling his hips up in a quick, sloppy fashion, with clear desperation, and a need to give his pretty cum dump a load to gulp down. He audibly hummed at the choked moans and gasps you were letting out, pulling out just to roughly slap his cock down onto your lolled out tongue, grunting and groaning as he shot thick spurts of cum down your throat. He tried to control his panting, wanting to hear your answer to his next question. “You sounded so hot, choking and moaning on my cock like that. You soaked your panties just from getting throat-fucked, didnt you, baby?” 

“Uh-huhhh,” you purred, your voice a bit gravelly from the abuse your throat took, swallowing down most of his load, only sticking your tongue back out when he reached down to push two fingers over it and into the back of your throat. 

Yunho watched with awe as you didn’t seem to gag, humming at the feeling of you sucking the rest of his pre-cum and other mixed fluids from his slender digits. “That’s my good girl…so well trained now…fuck.” 

You moaned onto his fingers that continued to lazily slide over your tongue and occasionally down into your throat, slowly pulling away to purr, “My cunt’s trained too, Yuyu. Don’t you wanna fill up my other hole, see how well I can handle your cock now?”  

Not caring that he had been missing out on the important lore that was playing out in the current cutscene the entire time, Yunho tossed his controller out of the way and lifted you up from the floor, taking a second to push your soaked panties out of the way before he sat you down onto his cock. He let out a small growl, watching your cunt swallow the thick tip of his cock and slowly take the rest of him inch by inch. “God, you’re still so fucking tight, princess…” Yunho pressed his lips onto your ear, rubbing his hands up and down your waist, the borrowed hoodie you wore bunching up near your tummy. “Mm, but you can’t help having such a tiny pussy, can you? So small and cute…perfect for my big cock to fuck full…” 

“Perfect for you, Yun, just for you–nnngh…!” you gasped sharply, just as your boyfriend began ramming himself up into you, his hands tightening the grip they had around your soft waist, using you like you were his own perfectly crafted cocksleeve. “So big, so biggg, fuck–”

“And you’ll fit it all inside your perfect cunt, just like you always do, won’t you, baby? Yeah, just like that,” he groaned out, lowering one hand down to your tummy to rub circles over it, feeling his own cock as it slammed into your cunt each and every time. It never failed to make him feel so dizzy, knowing you were this small, yet you could always take his cock like a champ. “That’s my girl, look at you go, baby, letting me breed you like this…so good for me…” 

“So good, so good for you, Yuyu…” You gripped his shoulders tightly, your nails digging into them through his hoodie, unable to keep yourself from moving your hips down whenever he fucked up into you, growing more and more desperate now that you were on the edge of ecstasy. “Gonna cum…oh my god, breed me, please…!” 

“Gonna fuck you so full of my load, princess…” Yunho tossed his head back into the couch, his deep groans gradually turning into a staccato of whiny, higher-pitched moans, still able to forcefully drive you down onto his cock, but his thrusts growing increasingly sloppy and desperate. All Yunho had to do was lift his head back up to look at your pretty fucked out face and how effortlessly tiny you looked wearing his hoodie to reach his limit, immediately pumping his hot load into you as soon as it began spurting out of his aching cock. “You feel that, baby? All the cum I’m fucking into you…?” 

“Mmhmm…!” It felt so good, you started to cry. “I love it, Yuyu…” 

Just as his cockhead roughly kissed your cervix for the last time, Yunho felt your cunt lock around him like a vice, something warm and wet coating his cock and lap. “Fuck, you just came all over my cock, didn’t you?” He chuckled, rubbing your back in small circles. “Always making such a mess, aren’t you, babygirl?” 

“It’s all your fault, Yun,” you whined softly into Yunho’s shoulder, hugging onto him for dear life, your vision fading in and out. If you had came any harder, you would’ve passed out, though it was always like this whenever you were around your irresistible boyfriend. 

“Mm, why don’t you remind me of who it was that interrupted my gaming session?” He sent a playful smile your way, booping your nose when you pouted. “Oh baby, next time, just ask me if we can switch to a two player game~” 

Apply for the taglist here ⇢ ♡

© kitten4sannie, 2024.

[mxrcielaguito]

Oh boi, I've been wanting to write Elliott x Farmer for a while so here we go:

Based off one of the comments of the original post

"I would suggest we make time for a little 'rendezvous' in my old cabin... But I'm afraid it's become rather... Musty... In my absence" Elliott says. I'd like to think he's being playful but I can't really tell. His words are mischievous but his eyes seem melancholic. I mean, well, he writes angsty stuff all the time, why would this be any different, he loves feeling melancholic. He's an overemotional drama queen, and that's pretty much why I fell for him in the first place. But something's off today.

I look at him, up and down. Wouldn't be the first time we escape a social gathering and make time for ourselves. I work relentlessly. He writes relentlessly. Our kids mess around the house relentlessly, too.

"Why not?" I suggest. "It's not like anyone's paying attention."

His green eyes widen, his face blushes for just an instant and I recognize his look. He bites his lower lip, grabs my arm and pulls me into the cabin so quickly I can't even react. As soon as I step into the cabin I understand what he meant by "musty". The air feels heavy, humid, and the wood is starting to decay. His old piano is still there; withering away.

He locks the door behind us and I can already feel his heavy breath. I can't help but find it cute. It's been three years and he still gets all hot and bothered. He's turning his back on me, his hand still on the door knob.

"Elliott? Are you all right?" I ask.

"I have really neglected this place, haven't I..." He murmurs. "It's- it's not romantic at all, I-..."

"Love, it's okay, I don't mind" I try to reassure him, rubbing his back. Something's wrong but I'm not can't put my finger on it. "It's been quite some time since the last time you came here, huh."

Elliott laughs nervously and forces himself to let go of the door knob. He turns around and looks at his cabin, his eyes scanning every corner.

"I really used to live like this, didn't I?"

"I didn't know this place brought you bad memories", I say, my voice soft, almost a whisper. I know we don't talk much; my words are usually rather scarce, I can't remember the last time we sat and spoke to each other. I'd rather listen, but Elliott doesn't speak too much, either.

He runs a hand through his copper hair.

"Once upon a time, there lived a man by the sea..." Elliott speaks quietly, absently. "He dreamed of fame and greatness; he dreamed of people remembering his name. However, that day never came, and his little cabin by the sea, he let it rot away."

I frown, trying to make a meaning off of this.

"My father bought this cabin a long time ago, we used to have our vacation here, when I was a kid. With time I guess we all forgot about it, then I remembered it when he kicked me out."

My eyes widen.

"He... Kicked you out? Why am I learning about this just now?!"

"Well, he wasn't happy when I said I wasn't pursuing a career in the family business." Elliott runs his hand through the dusty desk, then fidgets around with an old inkwell. The ink has been dry for a very long time. "I didn't have much money. I was running out when I met you."

"That part, I remember, yeah", I reply.

"It's not that this cabin holds bad memories, as you said. It just a reminder of almost everything that hasn't worked out in my life. All the scrapped manuscripts. All the arguing with my father. All the times I stayed up late, trying to come up with the perfect plot, the perfect words, the perfect... Everything" he closes his eyes and sighs. I look at him and take his hand in mine. I love it: it's so soft. "And then, one day, you showed up and took care of that old farm nobody cared about. And you took care of me..."

He leans his head over mine. His hair tickles my nose, and it smells like pomegranate shampoo.

"I can take care of this place, too" I suggest, trying to cheer him up. "Just like I did with the farm."

"No, no. This place is mine to bear, not yours. However I would like to take your example and make this old place something worth the effort. Something out kids will be happy inheriting."

I look up at him and smile.

"Yeah? You wanna do that?"

Elliott smiles and nods. I feel his hand make its way through my eternally sore back to my waist. I rest my hand on his, fidgeting with his wedding ring.

"It's not that musty", I tease, after a very long silence. "The bed's still in good shape."

When you're just trying to make some goddamn soup but Elliott wants to have sex in his mouldy ass cabin.

[ladylokianna]

The nearness of you

The main blame for this one-shot lies entirely to Queen Gorgo and her line "your lips can finish what your fingers have started".

Pairing: Aemond x fem!reader (i'm not used to use the first person p.o.v. mainly because in English i usually mess everything up by trying to fit verb tenses together so i hope everything is comprehensible). 

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Fluff but a little smut towards the end, nothing too explicit 'cause i'm not good at writing it. Fairly ooc Aemond, obviously. But, as I've already said, I really like a softer Aemond, and I like the idea that, with the right person, he would totally show his feelings (after a lot of convincing, of course, as we all know how lacking in affection and love our guy is, and it would take him quite a while before he would let himself go).   

Beta reader: my sister, but like me, she's too obsessed with Aemond and i'm afraid she is not entirely objective. Whatever. Enjoy.

***

Wrapping yourself in your heavy velvet dressing gown, you quickly went back to bed after adding a couple of wooden logs to brighten the fire in the huge fireplace, watching Aemond sleeping peacefully in the dim glow provided by the candles and the burning fire.

He lies prone, his arms folded under the pillow and one leg slightly bent towards the middle of the mattress. His slender body, chiselled by years of training, is relaxed, his features softened.

Despite the fact that the two of you have been married for a long time and that you know every single millimetre of his body, shyness sometimes leads you to blush in front of him, as if you still were the inexperienced young maiden of your wedding night.

You stretch out a hand, at first caressing gently his scarred cheek with the knuckles, paying attention to not hurt his wounded eye, then stroking his head with caring touches, enjoying the sensation of the silky strands between your fingers. He is so distant from the unflattering portrait that your aunt made of him as soon as the news of your betrothal was spreaded through the realm, who depicted Aemond as a "monster ready to feed you to his dragon at his first bad day".

A bit introvert, with a closed-off and apparently unfriendly character, maybe sometimes grumpy but definitely not a monster, Aemond is always caring and gentle with you and the few people he trust and love. Otherwise, you had learnt that his usual demeanour is just a façade, that the real Aemond is the one hanging with you in the library, flying with Vhagar or laying in your marital bed. But all is fine as it is, you surely don't want to change or fix him in any way: after all, what's wrong with him to fix? You love him as he is, and people needs to be loved as they are, not as the world would like them to be.

You move your hand down slowly along his shoulders, feeling under your fingertips the scratches you remember leaving him with the nails during the night, marks that you could find again on his shoulder blades and down his muscular back, on his narrow, jerky hips, marks that goes alongside with older ones earned during his strict sword training. If you close your eyes, you can easily recall the sensation of his muscles moving beneath your touch and the heat of his skin against yours, his hands ceaselessly travelling on your body and his weight as he hold you firmly still against the mattress with the absolute need to feel you trembling beneath him, to hear you screaming his name on each deep and precise thrust of his hips.

Your gaze follows the trail of your nails even further, on the roundness of Aemond's buttocks, on which you suddenly no longer have the courage to stretch your hand, despite the fact that only few hours earlier you had grasped them with all your strength to pull him as closer as possible to your core so he could sink deeper into your walls.

"We'll end up keeping the whole fortress awake... i can stop if it's too much, mh?" he'd chuckled out of the blue, teasing you a little after a loud cry escaped your mouth.

"Don't you dare." was your response, hissed in his ear and making him laugh heartily. "My word, Aemond, if you stop now, i'll make you pay for it."

"Oh, would you? I'm almost tempted to stop right now just to see how you will make me pay for my disobedience."

Shooking your head, with your hand still steady right above the dimples at the bottom of his back, you furtively check if Aemond is still asleep, surrendering to the urge to repeat the same gestures of that night: taking a deep breath, your hand lingered on the smooth skin of his bare ass, savouring that feeling for a while before squeezing it gently.

"Your lips can finish what your fingers have started."

You gasp surprised, blushing like you're again that little girl caught stealing the pastries set to cool in the kitchens of your father's castle, noticing the smirk painted on Aemond's lips and his wonderful eye pointed at you, clearly amused and flattered by your attentions.

"I thought... Gods... i thought you were asleep... how long have you been awake?"

"Hm...a while. Let's say since i felt your fingers on my face." he hummed, noticing your reddened cheeks. "How come that we're married for a long time yet you still blush over me? Oh, look at you... don't be shy, darling. You know you can touch whatever you want, whenever you want."

Blushing was the least of it, since a glance from him was often enough to set you on fire.

"Keep going though, i was enjoying it."

Yeah, of course he was. "What a little rascal you are."

With a wide smile Aemond turns on his back, offering his whole being to your gaze, to your will.

"Come darling, come to me." whispers, stretching his arms towards you and guidind you on top.

His skin felt so familiar and warm it hurt your heart. Moving a little, you adjust yourself on his pelvis before running your hands over him again, and again, and again, until suddenly you can feel his yearning running through his veins like a fire, bringing his blood to the boiling point, flushing his skin: you can sense it by the way his manhood is already leaking against you. With his breathing more strained, Aemond pulls himself up to sit, his muscles tensed at every single touch on his body, letting you taking him again as his hands flattened against your spine, drawing you as closer as possible.

"Don't be shy, you can do what you want to me. I'm yours."

[kiwriteswords]

Something To Be Thankful For

Masterlist || Ao3

AN: With Thanksgiving in the US next week, I could not help myself! Started writing this one last week and debated on posting, but here we are. Enjoy! Grateful for this community! (Also needed to post this before I move onto writing some Christmas content, lol!)

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Tags/Warnings: Thanksgiving, fluff, domestic moments, holiday traditions, family dynamics, slow burn, new relationship, found family, mentions of grief, mentions of wine/alcohol, and food TW.

Sypnosis: When you accept an unexpected Thanksgiving invitation from Aaron Hotchner and his son Jack, a simple holiday dinner becomes something more. Through shared laughter, heartfelt moments, and the warmth of a home-cooked meal, you discover the beauty of connection and the quiet joy of being exactly where you belong.

You were shuffling papers into your go-bag when you heard a knock on the edge of your desk. Glancing up, you were greeted by Hotch’s warm smile, softer than the one he wore in the field but still undeniably him. It was a smile you’d only recently gotten used to—the kind of smile that reminded you things between the two of you were no longer strictly professional.

The bullpen was quieter than usual. Most of the team had already left for the extended Thanksgiving break. Morgan had been the first to bolt, teasing everyone about having a “real” meal with family, while Garcia had dragged Reid out the door, insisting he couldn’t spend the holiday with nothing but his books for company. Rossi had a feast he was looking forward to slaving over, and you could still hear Emily groan at having to see her mother. JJ, however, was looking forward to the domestic Thanksgiving she was hosting. Now, it was just you and Hotch left, lingering in the familiar silence of the BAU.

“You’re not headed out yet?” Aaron’s voice broke the silence, low and thoughtful, drawing your attention away from your bag. He stood near your desk, hands in his pockets, his tie slightly loosened from the day.

“Just tying up some loose ends,” you replied, zipping your bag shut and brushing a stray hair from your face. “You?”

He hesitated, his gaze shifting from your bag to you and then back again. His expression was softer than usual, but his shoulders still carried that ever-present weight. “Actually, I wanted to ask what your plans are for Thanksgiving.”

“Oh, nothing special.” You shrugged, keeping your tone light and breezy. “My family’s out of state, so I’ll probably just stay in. Maybe I’ll cook something small and watch some cheesy holiday movies. You know, the usual.”

Aaron frowned slightly, the crease between his brows deepening, and you immediately regretted how casually you’d phrased it. His concern was unmistakable, and it made your stomach flip.

“You’re spending it alone?” he asked, his voice a touch lower, softer.

“Well, yeah,” you said lightly, trying to shrug it off. “I didn’t think traveling back for just a few days made sense. Plus, it’s not like I’ve never done it before.”

He didn’t respond right away, and his silence made you look up at him. There was something unreadable in his expression, a quiet thoughtfulness that always made you feel like he saw more than you ever intended to show. His lips pressed together briefly, and then his shoulders relaxed just a fraction. When he finally spoke, there was a quiet determination in his tone.

“Then join me and Jack.”

You blinked. “What?”

“Join us,” he repeated, stepping closer, his voice gentler this time. “It’ll just be the two of us. Jessica is with Haley’s family, and Sean… well, who knows where he is. There’s plenty of room at the table.”

“Oh, Aaron, I don’t want to intrude—”

“You wouldn’t be,” he interrupted, his tone firm but not unkind. He stepped closer still, and now his eyes held yours with an intensity that left no room for doubt. “Jack would love to have you there. And so would I.”

Your throat tightened at his sincerity, and for a moment, you could only stare at him. This was Aaron Hotchner—stoic, composed, sometimes impossibly guarded. But now, he was standing in front of you, asking you to spend Thanksgiving with him and his son. It was more than an invitation—it felt like a gesture, an opening to something you hadn’t dared to hope for.

The two of you hadn’t discussed Thanksgiving before this. Your relationship was still new, so new that you’d intentionally avoided bringing up the holiday, not wanting to impose or create any kind of awkward expectation. But here he was, offering exactly what you hadn’t dared to ask for.

“You’re sure?” you asked, your voice quieter now, hesitant.

“I’m very sure,” he said, his voice soft but resolute. “You shouldn’t spend the holiday alone. And honestly…” He paused, his lips twitching into the faintest smile. “It wouldn’t feel right without you.”

Aaron could see the uncertainty flickering in your expression, but he also saw the moment it gave way to something warmer, something that made his chest tighten. He hadn’t planned to ask—not until he saw you standing there, zipping up your bag with a casual mention of spending the day alone. The thought of you sitting by yourself, piecing together a small meal, felt wrong in a way he couldn’t ignore.

You nodded, the weight of his sincerity breaking through your hesitation. “Okay. I’ll come.”

The relief that washed over his face was subtle but unmistakable, and his small smile made your chest feel impossibly light. “Good. I’ll pick you up tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” you said, unable to stop the smile spreading across your lips. “Sounds perfect.”

As the two of you walked to the elevator, silence filled the space, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. You felt his presence next to you, steady and sure, and your mind raced with the implications of spending Thanksgiving with him and Jack. It was new territory, uncharted and a little daunting, but the thought of sitting at his table—laughing, sharing stories, carving turkey—filled you with a warmth that hadn’t been there before.

Aaron glanced at you as you both stepped into the elevator, catching the faint trace of a smile on your lips. For him, the idea of having you there wasn’t just about avoiding loneliness; it was about inviting you into something that mattered to him. Jack needed to see that warmth, that joy again. And, quietly, so did he.

The morning of Thanksgiving arrived, and your kitchen looked like a crime scene—a deliciously fragrant, pumpkin-filled crime scene. Flour dusted the counter, a rolling pin was haphazardly balanced against a bowl, and the golden-brown crust of your homemade pumpkin pie was cooling on a rack, mocking you with its imperfect edges.

“This has to be perfect,” you muttered, frowning as you adjusted the spices in the filling for the third time. Despite your best efforts, doubt lingered like a stubborn stain. You didn’t want to bring just any dessert to Aaron and Jack’s Thanksgiving table; it had to be flawless.

But the pie wasn’t your only problem.

Your bedroom was a disaster zone. A few blouses were draped over the chair, rejected dresses lay in a heap on the bed, and a pair of black heels you’d pulled from the back of your closet sat mockingly on the floor. Every outfit you tried on felt wrong—too formal, too casual, or just not you.

After tossing yet another top onto the growing pile, you grabbed your phone and hit Aaron’s contact. The second you heard his warm, familiar voice on the other end, you started rambling.

“Hey, okay, so, uh, what’s the dress code for today? Like, should I wear a dress? Or maybe a nice top and jeans? Or should I do something fancier? I don’t want to overdo it, but I also don’t want to look like I didn’t try—oh God, what if I look like I’m trying too hard? Are we doing photos? Do I need to plan for that? Aaron—”

“Hey,” he interrupted, a soft laugh threading through his voice. “Take a breath.”

You paused, clutching the phone tightly as you exhaled. “Sorry. I’m just… overthinking.”

“I can tell,” he said, still chuckling. “But you don’t have to. Trust me.”

“How can I not overthink? It’s our first holiday together, and I don’t want to mess it up,” you admitted in a rush.

“You won’t,” he assured you, his tone gentle. “Honestly, you’re adorable when you get frazzled like this.”

Your cheeks heated at his words, and before you could protest, he added, “Jack’s still in his pajamas. And as for me… well, I’m not exactly pulling out a suit for dinner at home. Something comfortable is perfectly fine.”

“Wait—Jack’s still in his pajamas?” you asked, blinking in disbelief, looking at the clock on your nightstand.

“Yes,” Aaron said, clearly amused. “And he’ll probably stay in them until I convince him to change for dinner. So, whatever you’re comfortable in will be perfect. You don’t need to try for us.”

His words sank in, melting some of the tension in your chest. “Okay,” you said quietly, feeling a wave of relief wash over you. “Thank you. I think I needed to hear that.”

“Of course,” he said softly. “Now, how’s the pie coming along?”

You glanced toward the kitchen, where the scent of nutmeg and cinnamon lingered in the air. “It’s… well, it’s not going to win any awards for presentation, but I think it’ll taste good.”

“That’s all that matters,” Aaron said. “We’re looking forward to it—and to seeing you.”

Your stomach fluttered at the warmth in his voice. “Me too,” you murmured, suddenly feeling a lot calmer.

“Good. I’ll be there soon to pick you up. Take your time finishing up.”

“Okay. Thanks, Aaron.”

After you hung up, you felt the lingering anxiety dissolve. You ditched the fancy outfit idea and settled on your favorite pair of jeans and a cozy sweater. Then, you went back to the pie, focusing on getting the filling just right while you waited for him to arrive.

When the familiar black SUV pulled into your driveway, you took a deep breath, balancing the still-warm pumpkin pie in one hand and a bag filled with carefully packed containers in the other. You barely had time to lock the door behind you before Jack jumped out of the car and bounded up to meet you, a wide grin on his face.

“Hi!” he chirped, his excitement palpable. He glanced at the pie in your hands. “Is that dessert?”

“It sure is,” you said, crouching slightly to meet his gaze. “And there’s more where that came from. I hope you’re hungry.”

“Oh, I’m always hungry,” Jack said with a dramatic sigh, making you laugh.

Aaron approached a moment later, his brows lifting in surprise as he took in the scene. You were balancing a picture-perfect pumpkin pie in one hand and a bag in the other, your face flushed with a mix of excitement and nerves.

“Pumpkin pie and—what’s in the bag?” he asked, his tone light with curiosity.

You straightened, holding the bag up with a sheepish smile. “Homemade stuffing. And a couple of bottles of wine.”

Aaron blinked, his lips curving into an amused smile. He had expected you to bring the pumpkin pie you raved about, knowing how thoughtful you were, but this was above and beyond. “You didn’t have to go all out.”

“It’s Thanksgiving,” you replied, shrugging. “It felt weird to show up empty-handed.”

“And the wine?” he asked, his tone teasing as his gaze flicked to the bottles tucked in the side pocket of the bag.

“One red, one white,” you said, grinning. “You like red, I like white, and I’m not driving, so… why not?”

Aaron chuckled softly, shaking his head. You’d thought of everything. “Fair enough. Why not?”

Jack reached for the bag, eager to help, but Aaron gently intercepted it. “Let me carry that,” he said, taking the bag and pie from you. “You take it easy. We’ve got this.”

As he walked back to the car, his thoughts lingered on you. He’d always admired your attention to detail, but this? This was another level. It wasn’t just the food or the wine—it was the thoughtfulness behind it. You’d taken the time to think about what would make the day special, not just for him but for Jack, too. It tugged at something deep in him, quiet gratitude that he wasn’t facing this day alone anymore.

The drive back to Aaron and Jack’s apartment was quiet and peaceful, the kind of stillness that only came with holidays. The roads were nearly empty; the world seemingly paused for the day.

Jack filled the silence, animatedly telling you about how his dad had let him help with the turkey that morning.

“Well, I didn’t really touch the turkey,” Jack admitted, grinning. “But I got to pick the seasoning!”

From the driver’s seat, Aaron couldn’t help but smile. Jack was practically beaming, his excitement contagious. Aaron found himself glancing at you in the rearview mirror, the way your eyes lit up as you listened to Jack’s story.

“You’ve got a good sous chef there, Aaron,” you teased, glancing at him. He gave you one of those small, subtle smiles that you were quickly learning to adore.

The warmth of your voice settled something in him. He hadn’t realized how much he’d been dreading this day, how empty it had felt knowing Jessica was away and Sean was off doing who-knew-what. But now, with you in the car and Jack’s laughter filling the space, it felt… full. It felt right.

“Well,” Aaron said, his lips twitching into a faint smile, “he might be better at seasoning than I am.”

Jack let out a laugh, and you joined in, the sound weaving through the quiet hum of the car. Aaron’s chest tightened for a moment—not in discomfort, but in recognition. This was something he hadn’t allowed himself to hope for in a long time: the beginnings of a new kind of family, one that made the holidays feel like home again.

When you arrived at the apartment, Aaron carried your things while you shrugged off your coat. He set the bag down carefully and returned to you, his hands outstretched to take your coat. His gaze lingered a little longer, studying your face before trailing down to your outfit. A soft smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“You look beautiful,” he said, his voice low and warm. The sincerity behind it made your heart skip.

You glanced down at your outfit—a simple pair of jeans and a soft sweater—and flushed. “This? It’s nothing fancy.”

“I know,” he replied, his smile growing slightly. “That’s why I like it. You could be wearing sweats, and you’d still look great.”

Your chest fluttered at his words, and you smiled shyly. “Thanks, Aaron.”

He hung your coat with an easy familiarity, glancing back at you as if he wanted to say more but chose to keep it to himself. For a moment, the quiet in the room felt heavy with something unspoken, but then Jack broke the silence, bounding toward you with the same enthusiasm he’d shown when he first greeted you.

“Come on! We’re setting the table,” Jack said, grabbing your hand and tugging you toward the dining area.

“Lead the way,” you said with a laugh, letting him guide you.

Aaron stood by the doorway to the kitchen for a moment, watching the two of you go. Jack was chatting animatedly about napkin folding techniques he’d learned from his Aunt Jess, and you were smiling, nodding along with genuine interest. Aaron turned back to the kitchen, his chest tightening—not from stress, but from something softer, more hopeful.

The next half hour passed in a warm flurry of activity. While Aaron focused on the turkey, you and Jack worked together to set the table. Jack insisted on folding the napkins into what he called “turkey shapes,” even though they looked more like triangles, and you encouraged his efforts as if he were crafting masterpieces.

“You’re a natural,” you told him as he carefully adjusted a plate.

He grinned up at you, his pride clear. “Do you really think so?”

“Absolutely,” you said with a playful wink, and Jack’s grin widened even more.

From the kitchen, Aaron glanced over at the two of you. His hands stilled on the turkey baster as he watched Jack eagerly showing you his handiwork, your laughter mixing with Jack’s excited chatter. The sight made something settle in him, a warmth he hadn’t felt in a long time spreading through his chest.

He shifted his focus back to the turkey, his mind wandering to how easily you’d fit into their dynamic. It wasn’t forced, wasn’t awkward. Instead, it was natural, like you’d been part of their little family all along. He shook his head slightly, the faintest smile lingering on his lips as he resumed preparing dinner.

The apartment filled with the warm, savory aroma of roasting turkey, the clinking of plates as Jack adjusted the table settings, and the soft hum of conversation. Occasionally, you glanced toward the kitchen, where Aaron worked with quiet efficiency, a faint smile playing at the edges of his expression whenever he caught your eye.

Jack’s laughter echoed brightly, and Aaron chuckled softly in response, the sound grounding the space in warmth and comfort. It had been a long time since Thanksgiving had felt like more than just another day, but with you here, it felt different. It felt like something new, something he wanted to hold onto.

The table was set, the food was ready, and the apartment buzzed with a warmth that felt almost tangible. Jack had insisted on lighting the small candle centerpiece he’d picked out, proudly declaring it “fancy.” You couldn’t help but laugh as he adjusted the napkins for the third time, clearly taking his job very seriously.

Aaron carried the turkey to the table, the golden skin glistening perfectly, and Jack’s eyes widened in awe. “Whoa, Dad, it looks awesome!”

“Thanks, buddy,” Aaron said, his lips quirking into a small smile. His gaze flickered toward you for a moment, something softer lingering there before he gestured for everyone to take their seats.

As the three of you settled in, Jack’s excitement bubbled over. “Can we eat now? Please?”

Aaron shook his head, chuckling. “Not quite yet, Jack.” He leaned forward slightly, his gaze warm as he looked between you and his son. “Before we start, I think it’s only right that we share what we’re grateful for.”

Jack groaned, though his grin betrayed him. “Dad…”

“Come on,” Aaron said with a faint smirk. “It’s tradition.”

Jack sighed dramatically, but you could tell he didn’t mind as much as he pretended. Aaron turned to you, a slight tilt of his head. “Would you like to go first?”

You blinked, caught off guard, but quickly smiled. “Sure.” You looked at Jack, then at Aaron, and for a moment, your words caught in your throat. “I guess… I’m grateful for this,” you said softly. “For being here, for both of you. This is the kind of thing I’ve always dreamed of—a warm meal, good company, and moments that feel like home.”

Aaron’s expression softened, his gaze steady as he nodded. Jack beamed at you, clearly pleased by your answer.

“My turn!” Jack piped up. “I’m grateful for… um… pie!” He grinned mischievously before quickly adding, “And Dad. And you,” he said, looking at you shyly. “And for not having to eat Brussels sprouts this year.”

That earned a laugh from both you and Aaron, and Jack grinned, proud of himself. Aaron’s smile lingered as he turned his attention to Jack.

“Well, I’m grateful for you, Jack,” he said, his tone soft but steady. “And for this… for today. It’s been a while since Thanksgiving felt like Thanksgiving.”

His gaze shifted to you, and there was something unspoken in his eyes, a depth that made your breath catch. “I’m grateful for you,” he said simply. “For being here.”

The words were gentle but carried a weight that settled over the table like a warm blanket. Jack didn’t notice the brief pause that followed, busy trying to decide what part of the turkey to claim first, but you felt it—the quiet sincerity of what Aaron had said.

As the meal began, the conversation flowed easily, laughter punctuating the clinking of plates and utensils. The food was incredible, each dish perfectly cooked and seasoned. You found yourself marveling at Aaron’s skill in the kitchen.

“This is amazing,” you said between bites of turkey. “I can’t believe you pulled all of this together.”

“Dad’s a really good cook,” Jack said proudly. “He always lets me help.”

Aaron glanced at you, a faint blush creeping into his cheeks at the praise. “I’ve had a lot of practice,” he said quietly, his tone tinged with modesty.

The meal stretched on, each bite more delicious than the last, but it wasn’t just the food—it was the atmosphere. The apartment felt alive in a way it hadn’t in years. For Aaron, this was the first Thanksgiving he hadn’t spent alone with Jack since Haley passed. The ones before that—when he and Haley were divorced—had been different, fractured in a way he tried not to dwell on.

But tonight? Tonight was different. It wasn’t just the food or the laughter; it was the way you fit so effortlessly into this moment. It was the way Jack’s eyes lit up when you praised his napkin folding, the way your laugh softened the edges of his own grief, the way you leaned into this space like it was where you belonged.

Aaron leaned back slightly, watching you and Jack talk animatedly about the pie, his heart aching in a way that wasn’t painful but full. It had been years—years—since he’d felt this kind of warmth during a holiday. Not since Jack was a baby, not since he and Haley had been on the same page. This wasn’t just a good Thanksgiving. This was a piece of something he hadn’t even realized he’d been missing.

For you, this moment was everything you’d dreamed of when you thought about falling in love someday. Not the grand gestures or big declarations, but this—the little moments. The laughter shared over a meal, the warmth of a family gathering, the simple joy of being wanted somewhere.

As the evening wore on, Jack began to nod off at the table, and Aaron scooped him up, promising him a slice of pie tomorrow. You helped clear the dishes, and the quiet rhythm of the task ground you both in the moment. Aaron glanced at you as you set the last plate in the sink, his expression soft.

“Thank you,” he said quietly.

“For what?” you asked, turning to meet his gaze.

“For being here,” he said simply, the weight of his gratitude clear in his voice.

You smiled, warmth blooming in your chest as you replied, “Thank you for having me.” And for the first time in a long time, you both felt like Thanksgiving was exactly what it was meant to be.

@zaddyhotch

@estragos

@todorokishoe24

@looking1016

@khxna

@rousethemouse

@averyhotchner

@reidfile

@bernelflo

@lover-of-books-and-tea

@frickin-bats

@sleepysongbirdsings

@justyourusualash

[concreteangel92]

Bubble Baths & Blanket Forts

Noah Sebastian x female reader

No warnings, all fluff

So this idea was inspired by the lovely fluffy messages I had last week, in particular @lma1986 and @collisionsofyourkissmakeitsohard and I just couldn’t stop thinking about it so here we are 🖤

I still have a load of requests in my inbox and my own works to try and get through over the next few weeks. It’s been manic in my personal life recently so writing might be a bit slower, we shall see but as always, thank you for your support and patience!

Although I’m thinking a smutty part 2 of this could be needed 👀

Permanent taglist: @flowery-mess @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @lma1986 @fadingangelwisp @theanarchymuse95 @w0manof-flesh44 @dream-machine-love @thisbicc @amelia-acero @badomensls

Permanent taglist is new so if you wish to be added then let me know ☺️

Masterlist

It had been a bad day, a really bad fucking day. Everything that could have gone wrong, had gone wrong and you were so fucking done.

You’d been messaging your boyfriend about how shit your day was and how you couldn’t wait to get home and just curl up and forget about the world.

You walked up to the front door of your flat that you shared with Noah and put the keys in the door, thanking whatever god that was listening that you hadn’t dropped the keys because you knew that would be the cherry on top.

You opened the door and was immediately greeted by the most beautiful smell coming from the kitchen.

“Hey babe I’m home”

You threw your keys and bag on the side and hung your coat up, instantly feeling better knowing that you were at home.

You heard Noah’s footsteps coming from the kitchen.

“Hey beautiful”

You looked over and saw his smiling face as he walked over to give you a kiss and cuddle hello. You wrapped your arms around him and held onto him while you buried your face in his chest.

“I’m so glad to see you”

Noah kissed your head and squeezed you into him.

“Yeah you said it was a bad day today, want to talk about it?”

You shook your head.

“No, to be honest, I just want today to be over”

You pulled away and went to walk into the living room but Noah blocked your way and started to lead you down the hallway.

“You don’t need to go in there, I’ve run you a hot bubble bath so you can have a soak before dinner is ready”

You stopped and looked up at him in awe.

“Really?”

He smiled. “Really angel, I’ve just finished setting it up in there so go and relax and I’ll call you when dinner is nearly ready”

You leant up and pulled his collar slightly so he came down to your level for a kiss.

“You’re incredible do you know that?”

Noah had a playful look on his face. “I know, I’m brilliant. Now go get that beautiful backside of yours in the bath”

“Don’t fancy joining me?”

Noah smirked and gave you another peck.

“Not this time baby, tonight is all for you”

You smiled and turned towards the bathroom while Noah headed back off to the kitchen. When you opened the door, the sight nearly brought you to tears.

The whole room was illuminated by candles all around the room and around the bath. You could smell one of your favourite bath bombs coming from the water and you could see the steam still rising. You could hear your favourite music playing softly and folded up on the side was your comfy pyjamas, ready for you to put on after.

You stripped out of your clothes, tied your hair up and walked over to the bath, lifting one leg, you dipped your toes in first to test the temperature which was perfect and then you climbed in and lowered yourself down, not being able to stop the moan falling from your lips as the hot water instantly soothed your tense muscles. You let your body relax under the bubbles and shut your eyes.

You don’t know how long you stayed there for, it felt like an eternity before you were disturbed by a gentle knock on the door and Noah’s face coming into view.

“Hey baby, how are feeling?”

You kept your head rested on the back of the bath. “I feel so much better, thank you”

Noah smiled and grabbed a big fluffy towel and held it open to you.

“I’m sorry to say that you’ll have to come out now as dinner is nearly ready”

You nodded and reached down to pull the plug to let the water drain before you stood up, the bubbles clinging to your body.

Noah stepped forward and wrapped the soft around your body before he helped you step out.

“What’s for dinner by the way? I forgot to ask”

“Your favourite”

Your eyes lit up as you looked up at him.

“Steak?”

“Yes with all your favourites. Get yourself into your comfies and then meet me at the table”

You nodded, the smile not leaving your face, how could one man be so perfect.

You dried yourself off and got dressed, your body feeling so refreshed after such a bad day.

After making sure you blew out all the candles in the bathroom, you walked down the hallway and into the kitchen/dining area where you had the table set up.

All ready on the table was your dinner, which smelt absolutely divine and the table was set up with more candles and fresh red roses in a vase in the centre.

You honestly thought you could cry, Noah had thought of everything.

“I can’t believe you’ve done all of this”

Noah walked up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you close into his chest, the warmth of his body seeping into yours.

“You said you had a bad day angel, I just wanted to make it better for you”

You leaned back into him, feeling so safe and secure in his arms.

“It’s incredible babe, thank you”

You feel him press a kiss into your hair and then he leads you over to the table, pulling your chair out for you and making sure you were comfortable.

The food was incredible, you both ate in a comfortable silence with the odd conversation here or there but mostly you were just enjoying sitting down together.

Once dinner was over and your food was settling, Noah cleared the plates away and came back over to you.

“I have one more surprise for you”

You looked up at Noah with a bemused smile “What? But you’ve done so much already!”

Noah gave you his million dollar smile and took your hand in his.

“I’ve saved the best until last”

Noah walked you down the hall and stood outside the living room door, now realising that he’d been stopping you from entering all night.

“Ok, close your eyes baby”

You smiled and shut your eyes. You heard him open the door before you felt his hands gently cover your face as he walked you into the room.

“Ready?”

You nodded my head, the anticipation running through your body as you heard him whisper “open” into your ear and he released his hands.

You opened my eyes and the breath was caught in your throat.

Noah had built a huge blanket fort around the room. Blankets all of sizes were tied to each other and hung up high to create a tent like den in the middle of the room and you could see fairy lights hung around the entrance.

“Oh my god Noah! You built this?”

Noah blushed and nodded.

“Yeah, I remember you said once that you used to build these all the time as a kid and loved hanging out in them, so I thought I’d bring that back for you”

A tear rolled down your cheek as you took it all in.

“Can we go inside?”

Noah laughed and wiped the tear away.

“Of course we can angel, this is all for you, we can shut the rest of the world out in our fort, no problems allowed in”

You laughed and hugged him tight, feeling his arms pull you closer to him.

“You’re perfect Noah, you really are”

You grabbed his hand and went over towards the entrance, Noah lifted up the small blanket that he’d used as the ‘doorway’ and you saw inside that he’d used even more blankets and loads of pillows to cover the floor and he’d even hung fairy lights inside to give a beautiful glow and made it all warm and cosy.

You crawled in, feeling Noah right behind you. You could just about sit up inside, Noah definitely struggling more due to his height so you lied yourself back amongst the pillows and curled yourself up into Noah’s arms.

“This is the best night ever”

Noah smiled down at you, you felt him absentmindedly running his fingers through your hair or over your back.

“I’m glad you like it angel, I hope I’ve made your shitty day better”

You lean up and press your lips to his.

“What shitty day?”

His smile matched your own as you both got comfortable, getting lost in the conversation and feeling safe within each other’s arms, knowing that nothing could prenatal your very own little fortress.

[faithshouseofchaos]

Max' older brother who charles has had a crush on since they first met, where charles figures out that older brother has been holding back in raceing so their dad focuses on him so he doesnt hurt max, and charles is in awe because older brother could have made it into formula 1 a while ago and charles doesnt think hed be able to do something like that if it were him, so charles decides to help male reader as much as he can without being noticed.

I had someone else try and write this to see if theyd been as enthusiastic as you in writing it but no its like they didnt understand the ask @/playinbillie if you want to see what they wrote. Also this was kinda one of the two stories i had for you i didnt actually know the pairing i wanted for this one so i just made it charles, but the other is a oliver x kimi x male reader.

.

Unspoken sacrifice — Charles Leclerc x male!reader

Word count— 1777

Fluff slightly angsty

The sound of the engines roaring around the track echoed through Charles' chest as he sat in the stands, his gaze fixed on the cars speeding past. But his attention wasn’t on the race; it was on him—Y/N.

Max's older brother. The one who could’ve been great.

For years, Charles had watched from the sidelines as Y/N, despite his obvious talent, kept himself from rising through the ranks of racing. Every time they’d go karting, every practice session, Y/N would leave everyone in the dust—except for Max. The family dynamic was always clear. Their dad, a former racer himself, was invested in Max. Obsessed with Max.

But Y/N? He was always the silent presence in the background, holding back in ways that didn’t make sense to Charles at first. There was something about Y/N’s racing that seemed... off. Too controlled, too careful, like he was playing a different game entirely. Charles hadn’t realized why until recently.

It was after one of the practice races, as he sat next to Y/N on the cool metal bleachers, watching Max celebrate his victory with their dad, that it clicked.

“Y/N, why didn’t you go for the win?” Charles had asked, his brow furrowing.

Y/N gave him that knowing smile, one that always seemed to hide more than it let on. “Because he needs to be the one who shines. Max... he’s the one Dad focuses on. You know that.”

Charles stared at him, confused. “But you— you could’ve taken that first place. You’ve always been better than me, better than Max.”

Y/N’s gaze shifted toward the ground, his voice quiet. “Sometimes the best thing you can do is step back.”

Charles frowned, his mind racing. “But why? Why hold back? You could’ve been in Formula 1 by now. Why give that up?”

Y/N was silent for a moment, the weight of the years they’d spent together suddenly sinking in. “Because, Charles, if I push too hard, Dad would want me to push Max harder, too. And Max isn’t ready for that. He’s not me. I’d rather see him succeed than risk seeing him burn out.”

Charles was stunned. He hadn’t realized how much Y/N had sacrificed—not just his dreams, but his entire future—for the sake of his younger brother. It wasn’t just about racing. It was about family, about love, about keeping Max safe.

And it broke Charles’ heart.

The thought of his older brother never having the chance to race for real, to chase that Formula 1 dream, made him feel a sharp ache in his chest.

"That's... that's really something, Y/N," Charles said quietly, feeling an overwhelming surge of admiration for the older brother he'd never truly understood before.

Y/N shrugged, a bittersweet smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “It’s what family does, right? You put them first.”

But Charles wasn’t sure if that was enough anymore.

He’d never be able to do what Y/N had done. He would never have the strength to hold back when it mattered, to throw away his own potential for someone else. Y/N had given everything, and Charles had only just realized it.

And now, watching Y/N quietly fade into the background again, Charles made a decision.

“I’m going to help you, Y/N,” Charles said suddenly, surprising even himself. “I don’t know how yet, but I will. I won’t let you fade into the background.”

Y/N looked over at him, a surprised yet knowing look crossing his face. “Charles, you don’t need to—”

“I know,” Charles interrupted, his voice firm. “But I want to.”

Y/N gave a small chuckle, ruffling Charles' hair. “You don’t have to do anything for me, kid. You’ve got your own career to focus on.”

Charles didn’t reply, his mind already planning how he could work in the shadows, how he could help his brother rise again without anyone noticing. Without Max ever knowing.

He wouldn’t let Y/N’s sacrifices be in vain.

And maybe, just maybe, they could still achieve the dream Y/N had set aside for so long.

Over the next few weeks, Charles found himself subtly changing the way he approached his time with Y/N. Every practice session, every karting weekend, he was paying more attention—not just to his own racing, but to his older brother’s every move.

It wasn’t hard to see how much Y/N was holding back. He wasn’t just playing it safe; he was actively limiting his own performance, choosing more cautious lines, braking earlier, and settling for second or third place when he easily could’ve taken the win.

It frustrated Charles more than anything. Watching Y/N squandering his potential, doing exactly what he’d done his entire life: taking a step back for the sake of someone else.

And it made Charles feel helpless. He wanted to shout, to demand that Y/N race to his fullest, that he deserved more than the life of a background player. But he couldn’t. He understood now why Y/N was doing it. He’d made that sacrifice for Max—and maybe even for their father. It wasn’t just about being in the spotlight; it was about keeping the family dynamic intact.

But Charles wasn’t going to let it go on forever.

One night, after a particularly difficult race where Y/N had barely edged out Max for a second-place finish, Charles made up his mind. He needed a plan. He needed to help Y/N, even if he had to do it in secret.

"Y/N," Charles said casually as they were cleaning up their gear, the two of them alone in the garage. Max was off with their dad, discussing strategies for his next race. "Have you ever thought about going to some of those off-season testing events? The ones where they bring in reserve drivers, or... younger talents?”

Y/N gave him a sideways glance, his expression unreadable. “I’ve been to a few. A long time ago. But you know as well as I do, they won’t give me the time of day. Not with Max in the picture.”

“I think you’re wrong.” Charles smiled, trying to hide the excitement bubbling up in him. “What if I can get you into one of those events? Just a test run, no pressure. I’ll set it up.”

Y/N gave him a bemused look. “And how exactly are you going to pull that off? You don’t have the connections—"

Charles leaned in closer, his voice low but confident. "I do now."

For the next few weeks, Charles worked quietly behind the scenes, making calls and sending messages to everyone he knew—engineers, team managers, even his own contacts within the F1 world. It wasn’t easy. Y/N wasn’t exactly a household name, and most people were only interested in the young stars, not a 25-year-old with years of untapped potential. But Charles didn’t care about the odds.

He couldn’t let Y/N’s talent slip away, not when he knew what his brother could truly do.

It was a month later when Charles finally received the response he’d been waiting for—a private testing session for a mid-tier team looking to give fresh talent a shot. It wasn’t Formula 1, not yet, but it was a step in the right direction. A foot in the door.

He waited until the perfect moment, when Y/N wasn’t expecting it, and told him about the opportunity.

“Y/N, I got you a test with an F1 team. You’re going to drive at their private session next week.”

Y/N blinked, looking at him as though Charles had just said something absurd. “What?”

“I did. You’re driving for them next week.”

At first, Y/N didn’t believe it. He laughed, like Charles was making a joke at his expense. But the more Charles pushed, the more he explained how hard he’d worked to arrange it, how he’d bent a few rules and called in a few favors, the more Y/N’s expression shifted from confusion to disbelief to... gratitude.

But even then, Y/N hesitated. "Charles, you know I’m not—"

“You are ready,” Charles cut him off, standing firm. “I know it. I know you could’ve made it into F1 years ago if you’d wanted to. I won’t let you give up on it.”

There was a long silence. Then, slowly, Y/N nodded, a quiet smile tugging at his lips. "Alright. But you better not tell Max about this. He’ll never forgive me if he finds out.”

Charles grinned. “Deal.”

The week of the test, Y/N’s nerves were palpable, though he tried to hide them. As they stood by the track, Charles watched him suit up, a wave of pride crashing over him. His brother was about to show the world what he could really do—and no one would know who had pushed him there.

Charles knew it wasn’t enough just to get Y/N the test. The hard part was making sure Y/N knew he had someone in his corner. Someone who believed in him—not as the background player or the second-best brother, but as the talented, driven racer he’d always been.

The test went better than Charles could have hoped. Y/N drove like he was born for it. Fast, fearless, and precise, he outpaced every expectation. By the end of the session, the team’s engineers were already talking about bringing him back for more testing.

But Charles didn’t want to get ahead of himself. This wasn’t the finish line. This was just the beginning.

As they packed up to leave, Y/N clapped him on the shoulder, a grateful, somewhat overwhelmed look in his eyes.

“Thanks, Charles,” he said quietly. “I don’t know what to say... I didn’t think I’d ever get a shot like this.”

Charles smiled, the weight of the unspoken promise hanging between them. “You don’t have to say anything. Just keep driving. I’ll make sure you get there.”

The next few months passed in a blur. Y/N’s performance in the test had caught the attention of several teams, and before long, he was back on the radar. Charles helped when he could, keeping things quiet and making sure that Y/N’s success stayed under the radar. Max never knew what had really happened. And Y/N, though hesitant, slowly began to believe that maybe—just maybe—he could make it to Formula 1 after all.

But it wasn’t just about racing anymore. It was about a bond between brothers, one that went beyond the track. A bond that said: I’ve got your back, no matter what.

[meracyn]

heyyy could u write a one shot of kwon x reader where they weren't able to see each other for months (reader travelled to a different country and he had to go to the tournament) but reader finally had the chance to go to the sekai taikai and surprises him? maybe suggestive ;) But fluff is ok too, thank youn!

a/n: LMAOOO SNEAKY ANON but yk what ill do it (hes too fine). crazy how i wrote the bf hcs of him yesterday and now i got 3 reqs lmao, not complaining tho. also i want to find good icons to put on my kwon reqs but I CANT CHOOSE,,

warnings; SUGGESTIVE, cursing (only like..once), uhh thats all i think

Kwon stood up along with the rest of the Cobra Kai members, barely paying attention to the announcements being said at the moment— too deep in thought— thoughts of you.

The past few months were hard. Not just for him, for you too. You had to travel to another country for a while due to a family emergency regarding a very ill relative. Although you both facetimed and texted everyday, the distance was still there. It wasn’t the same.

The Sekai Taikai was able to get Kwon to focus on the tournament, but even so it wasn’t enough. His mind kept drifting off to you. He never thought your absence would affect him that much, but ever since you told him you had to stay there longer, he felt the ache in his chest deepen with each passing day. He probably wouldn’t say it out loud, but he missed you. A lot.

As everyone was allowed to leave, Kwon let out a sigh, head tilted a bit low as he walked with the rest of his dojo. What was up with him? He won every match he had, why did it not fuel him up with satisfaction anymore? Even messing around with other dojos wasn’t becoming as fun. It frustrated him.

“Hey, wanna go with us to a bar nearby later?” Yoon went up to him, slightly nudging his shoulder with his elbow.

Kwon snapped out of his thoughts, and stopped walking. Maybe it wasn’t a bad idea, he could forget about the emptiness in his heart. “..Sure, why not. I could use some distraction.” He replied. Without saying anything else, he walked away.

· · ·

You let out a sigh of relief after managing to get inside the building where the tournament was being held. You may or may not have lied your way in by saying you were one of Cobra Kai’s backups and Sensei Kim requested you come here as an emergency.

Those at the desk were a bit skeptical, but thankfully didn’t question any further and let you pass.

You walked past the big hallways, trying to think where the rooms were, thinking he was probably resting. You couldn’t wait to see him again�� his eyes, his hair, that stupid yet charming smirk he had on his face.

Suddenly, you passed by a teenage guy scrolling through his phone. Maybe he knew Kwon, it was worth asking.

“Uh..excuse me,” You started, a bit nervous as you walked up to him. “Do you know the room number Kwon Jae-Sung is staying in?”

Demetri looked up, an eyebrow raised at the..random question. Out of all the questions you could have asked, this one didn’t cross his mind. He glanced around the room, noticing how it was only you and him. “I don’t think..I can give out that information.” He replied.

“Oh, no. It’s not like that—” You said quickly. “I’m his partner. I wanted to see if he’s okay.”

“Partner?” Demetri repeated. “As in, sparring partner? Then you should kn—”

“No!” You exclaimed, interrupting him. You cleared your throat before continuing, “I meant..I’m his partner..romantically.”

“Oh. That makes sense.” Demetri said, before nodding slightly. He leaned in to whisper the room number, then sat back down. “I’m sure he’s doing very fine.. but that’s the number.”

“Thank you, I appreciate it.” Relief washed over you, as you quickly left, going to the elevators.

Demetri watched as you left, before his eyes widened. “Wait. What if they’re not his partner?”

· · ·

Kwon got out of the elevator, laughing along with his team members who were all drunk and held onto each other for support.

Being at the bar did help him be distracted for a while, drinking along while the rest were doing bets on who could drink the most without getting drunk at all.

“Hey, why don’t we go out again for some more fun? It isn’t too late,” One of them suggested.

“Not a bad idea. Let’s go,— Kwon, you comin’?”

“Nah, I’m good. You guys go ahead.” He said. The others left, leaving him alone.

He opened the door to his room, shutting it behind him and turned on the lock. Walking over to his bed, he began to take off his shirt and draped a towel around his waist. Just as he was going to enter the shower, a finger tapped on his shoulder.

As he turned around, he was taken by surprise.

You were standing there, with a mischievous smile.

How did you get in his room? Was he dreaming? Was he too tired after training? Did he drink too much? Did he—

“I got you~!” You said with a chuckle.

He couldn’t feel his heartbeat— he couldn’t believe it. You were here, in front of him. After months of longing, of only talking through a screen, you were standing right there, your bodies’ mere inches away from the other. Without thinking, he closed the distance between you two, pulling you into his arms.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” he mumbled into your hair, his fingers tracing the curve of your back, feeling the warmth of your body against his.

You laughed softly, pulling away slightly to meet his gaze, “I thought I’d surprise you.”

“Yeah..and you did,” He replied. “but now that you’re here..” His eyes trailed over your body up and down, voice low. The tension built between you both was obvious, the look in his eyes said it.

His lips twitched into a smirk, pulling you close to him again, “Tell me my love, did you miss me a lot?” He asked, in a teasing yet flirtatious tone.

“Maybe, who knows?” you mumbled, your lips brushing against his ear as you whispered, “Want to find out?”

Kwon didn’t reply, his lips crashing on yours as his hands instinctively held onto your waist. The kiss deepened, hinting at the need that every inch of his body begged for. It was obvious to you—he wanted more.

Your fingers went up his chest, your other hand pulling him even closer to you–if that was possible.

He pulled away for a second, as your eyes met. His dark eyes were full of lust, but also shone with a hint of mischief. Before you knew it, Kwon leaned in again, kissing your jaw and trailing down to your collarbone. Removing a hand that was on your hip, he held onto your leg, lifting it up as you curled it around his waist.

Kwon kept kissing your body, the sounds that left your lips only fueling his desire. He had your back pressed against the wall, and began to take off your shirt.

“Fuck..” He silently cursed to himself as he looked up to see your expression— cheeks red as you tried to steady your breathing.

“Looking like a mess, how cute. And just for me, right?”

You nodded frantically, wanting him to stop teasing and continue.

Knowing you were desperate, Kwon chuckled. “Don’t worry love, after so many months apart, I’m not done with you just yet.”

HELP I FEEL SO EMBARRASSED I FEEL LIKE I DID SO BAD ON THIS 💀 well it was definitely interesting to do lol..time to work on those other requests now

[httpsdana]

Heyyy i was wondering if you would write fluff prompt 2 for gavi. Like they’re cuddling in bed in the morning?

xo

Dreamy Wonders~Pablo Gavi

・❥・prompt list

・❥・masterlist -> part 2

・❥・who I write for

2-“You talk in your sleep, you know? last night, you kept saying my name.”

The morning glow peeked through the curtains, bathing the room in a soft golden light. Pablo stirred awake, his face nestled against y/n's shoulder, his arms wrapped tightly around her waist. She was already awake, fingers gently threading through his messy curls as he snuggled closer.

"Good morning, cariño," she whispered, her voice soft and teasing.

He hummed in response, still half-asleep, but a lazy smile spread across his face. He tilted his head up, blinking sleepily at her, and pressed a light kiss to her jaw.

"Morning," he murmured, his voice raspy from sleep.

She grinned mischievously, deciding now was the perfect time to bring up what she'd heard during the night. “You talk in your sleep, you know?”

His brows furrowed, and he pulled back just enough to look at her. “What? No, I don’t.”

“Oh, you do.” She bit her lip to stifle a giggle. “Last night, you kept saying my name.”

Pablo immediately flushed, the tips of his ears turning red. “No, I didn’t,” he mumbled, burying his face in her neck to hide his embarrassment. “You’re lying.”

She laughed, delighted by his reaction. “Oh, you definitely did. You were all like, ‘mi amor, mi vida, te amo.’” she mimicked a dramatic, dreamy tone.

“Stop” he groaned, his voice muffled against her neck. “That’s so embarrassing.”

“Why is it embarrassing?” she teased, wrapping her arms around him to keep him from escaping. “It’s sweet. You’re dreaming about me—how could I not love that?”

He finally lifted his head; his face adorably flushed and gave her a pointed look. “I wasn’t dreaming about you,” he said, trying and failing to sound convincing.

“Oh? Then who were you dreaming about?” she asked with a raised brow, feigning offense. “Was it someone else, Gavi?”

“No!” he blurted out quickly, panicking. “It was you, okay? Happy now?”

y/n giggled and cupped his cheek, her thumb brushing over his heated skin. “Very happy. But you’re even cuter when you’re all shy like this.”

“Stop teasing me,” he whined, his voice taking on a petulant tone. “you're something else”

“and yet here you are” she teased, leaning down to kiss his nose.

“Because I don’t have a choice,” he said with a dramatic sigh, though his arms tightened around her. “Someone has to put up with you.”

“Oh, poor Pablo,” she said, biting back a smile. “Do you want me to let you go? Free you from your suffering?”

“No way,” he muttered, burying his face in her neck again. “I’ll suffer. Just don’t let go.”

y/n's laughter filled the room as she kissed the top of his head. “See? You’d miss me too much.”

He grumbled something unintelligible, but she caught the faintest smile on his lips as he pressed a kiss to her collarbone.

“Admit it—you love dreaming about me,” she said her voice teasing but full of affection, running her fingers along his back.

“Maybe I do,” he said softly, his voice so quiet she almost missed it. He glanced up at her, his cheeks still pink but his expression earnest. “But don’t tell anyone, okay? You’ll ruin my reputation.”

She smiled, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead. “Your secret’s safe with me, mi dormilón.” (my sleepyhead)

He groaned dramatically, collapsing on top of her like a human blanket. “You’re the worst.”

“And yet, you adore me,” she replied cheekily, wrapping her legs around his waist to keep him close.

He lifted his head just enough to look at her, his eyes soft and full of adoration. “I do,” he admitted quietly, leaning down to kiss her properly this time. “I love you so much.”

Her heart melted at his confession, and she smiled against his lips. “I love you too, Pablito”

[deusfoundry]

i've got no idea if you are writing right now but i would love myself a fem!reader x kageyama. love you xx

U KNOW WHAT NONNIE i would love myself a kageyama x reader too hehe so here u go!!

p.s. i was half asleep when i wrote this literally i was fighting to keep my eyes open so its not my best pls forgive me i tried

you remember the conversation you had with tobio so, so clearly, almost as if it was yesterday. which, you think, isn't entirely untrue considering it occurred barely two weeks ago.

tobio had outright rejected the idea of keeping your relationship a secret.

"why would i want to hide the fact that you're my girlfriend?"

and you try not to melt into a puddle over his bluntness, the way the words my girlfriend rolled off his tongue with ease. he didn't stutter. didn't trip over his words. you were his.

you cite a few reasons why he would consider it, all of which are valid in your eyes. backlash from fans. reduced sponsorships. less guest appearances on evening talk shows. factors that were valuable to his career. but he had told you, with an almost terrifying conviction, that he doesn't care. so long as he still gets to be on the court, the less-athlete and more-celebrity side of his career doesn't matter to him.

so you two agreed on a compromise. you would ease your relationship to the world, slowly letting more and more people know until it's out in the public.

and the first ones to know are the ones closest to you both. your family and his sister. your friends and his old teammates from highschool.

shoyo had been the first person he called when you agreed to be his girlfriend on one of your at-home dates. you can recall peering into your apartment's living room after a quick trip to the bathroom, watching tobio with his back hunched near the corner.

"she said yes." he whispered into his phone, and you could hear shoyo's overexcited screaming even though he's not on speaker.

next, was your boss. though workplace relationships aren't explicitly stated in your contract to be forbidden, it's highly still discouraged. in turn, you two had gotten an almost hour long lecture about policies and rules. about what this could mean for not only your careers, but for everyone else on the team as well. about the public's possible response.

and with a practiced, corporate smile, you reassured your boss that you have it all under control.

the last people in your four-part plan to find out would've been tobio's teammates and coach, before you (when you're both ready) make an announcement on all of schweiden adlers' social media accounts.

it was so easy, and tobio had agreed to follow through with it. you remember because he swore with a kiss on the edge of your lips and a shy smile that he would.

which is why you're equally dumbfounded and shocked when he announced your relationship to the public. during a post-match press conference. on live, national television.

satisfaction began to settle in halfway through the presscon. the team was doing great. they answered every question with ease, behaved as well as they could. there were moments of playful banter between the members that the fans would go crazy over. every reporter followed through the brief you gave them earlier about which questions they could and couldn't ask (heavily emphasizing no questions about kourai's height).

it was going so well.

until one of the reporters asked one particular question. it was done in good faith, you could tell by the small grin on her face and the quiet chuckles from everyone. she was playing off an inside joke from the adlers' fanbase which, to your confusion, seemed to adore you just as much as the members of the team.

"is your manager single?"

hirugami laughs, toying a bit with the microphone in his hand before he opens his mouth to answer the question in the same lighthearted nature.

except, tobio beats him to it.

"she's not."

the room falls silent. everyone, even his teammates, look at tobio with intrigue.

"r- really, kageyama-san?" she's damn near shaking, the poor lady, when she realizes tobio's eyes are on her. all bright and blue and intense.

he decides to spare her when he takes a moment to look at you, standing near the side of the stage. you're glaring daggers at him, trying to convey with your two eyes multiple warning signs in big, bold, and red letters.

please don't.

and tobio, who has grown to be perceptive when it comes to you, knows exactly what you mean. he just doesn't have it in him to care right now.

"i should know. i'm her boyfriend."

your mouth falls wide open. the only thought that runs through your mind is you two are so fucking screwed. this wasn't part of the plan you meticulously arranged and presented to your boss.

you don't know how long the silence lasts until kourai decides to break it.

"i knew it!" he says, slamming the velvet cloth covering the long panel table. the sound brings you out of your daze. "i knew something was going on between you two."

you think there's no possible way this situation can get worse, but wakatoshi nods in agreement, which brings about an onslaught of hungry reporters asking questions left and right. you take this as your cue to rush in and call off the presscon.

"is it true?"

"how long have you two been dating?"

"did kageyama-san really ask you out?"

you drown them out to the best of your abilities, ignoring the less than kind and backhanded questions directed towards you. tobio looks into your eyes as he passes by you in the line of players you're ushering off the stage, but you quickly avert your gaze.

"we'll talk later." you mouth.

after gathering their belongings from the locker room, the team piles onto the bus to head back to their home court. tobio settles into one of the seats near the back, saving the window seat for you.

he waits, watches in anticipation as you step inside the bus. you catch his pleading eyes right as you're about to take a seat in an empty row on the front.

you try to resist. really, you do. but you've never been the best at denying tobio. for more times than you care to admit had you been the subject of teasing by the team for entertaining each and every request that tobio makes.

so you sigh, before making the long walk to the back of the bus.

tobio allows you to scoot inside after helping you with shoving your backpack inside the overhead compartment. the bus springs to life right as you take your seat, engines silently roaring as it begins the trip back home.

a moment of silence passes before tobio takes your hand in his.

"i'm sorry." he says, dragging his thumb over the lines on your palm with each syllable.

"are you really?"

tobio pauses, almost contemplating. "you'd feel better if i didn't answer that."

a quiet laugh falls off your lips. of course you already knew the answer to that. tobio has always been unapologetically open about what he wants.

screw his old teammates for going with all his demands.

tobio's ministrations on your hand doesn't stop. in fact, it grows more frantic by the second. lazy movements turn into his thumb rushing back and forth against your skin. it means he wants to ask you something, and he's hoping this will silently convey his question.

"i'm not mad." in an instant, his worries are quelled. you move closer to lean your head on his shoulder. he plants his head on top of yours.

your limbs melt into each other until you're not sure where you end and tobio begins.

"but you didn't have to say that, you know. hirugami was handling it." you give him a light nudge.

"they were asking if you were single," tobio scoffs, turning his head so he can nuzzle his face against your hair. he breathes you in. your scent overtakes his senses until the only thing he knows is you. that you are his. "i think i have the right to answer that."

"god your publicist must hate you." you roll your eyes. "our boss must hate us right now too."

"don't care." he pries himself off the crown of your head, leaning down to latch his lips on your jaw.

tobio leaves one kiss, right at the very edge. you tip your head to the side so he can leave another on the flesh of your neck. he's about to plant a kiss just above your collarbone when wakatoshi chimes in from the seat in front of you.

"it's not very appropriate to make out on the bus."

you jump away from each other, cheeks flushing red now that the entire team's attention is on you. but you can't find it in you to care enough to tell them off. the hollering and the teasing matters less than the fact that you have tobio, right by your side.

dividers by @cafekitsune

[tikosblogg]

I don’t know if you do all BO crew x reader so feel free to do just Noah but him or them and the reader who has fainting spells and how they look after her and just react to it.

I’ll write for any of them if requested! Otherwise I just write for Noah.

Summary: The guys witness one of your fainting spells.

Warning: none.

A/N: Hope you enjoy!!

The lighting in the living room shifted lazily as the sun dipped, casting warm hues across the walls. You sat comfortably on the couch, lost in the banter of your friends. Nick had just cracked a joke that sent all of you into fits of laughter. This was your sanctuary—a place where laughter echoed and friendship flourished.

Jolly’s laughter was infectious, ringing in your ears as you stretched out your legs, getting up to refill your drink. The movie flickered in the background, igniting the room with bursts of color and sound. You felt lighthearted, but as you stood, a wave of dizziness crashed over you unexpectedly. You paused, a frown knitting your brows together.

“Everything okay?” Jolly’s voice cut through the fog in your head. The worry etched on his face made you try and push the feeling away.

“Yeah, just stood up too fast,” you replied with a dismissive wave, smiling to reassure him. He nodded, refocusing on the flickering screen, but the dizziness deepened, clinging to you. Taking a deep breath, you steered yourself into the kitchen, hoping some water would help.

As you opened the cabinet to retrieve a glass, the room tilted dangerously. You swayed, gripping the countertop, the cool surface grounding you momentarily. Then, more steps echoed behind you, pulling your attention away from the dizziness. You blinked, turning to face your friends, but their concerned expressions blurred into shadowy outlines against the bright lights of the kitchen.

You opened your mouth to speak, but before you could utter a word, darkness swallowed you whole. The glass slipped from your fingers, shattering against the tile floor like your grasp on consciousness. The last thing you remembered were their faces, illuminated with alarm before everything went black.

When you finally awakened, confusion buzzed around you like a swarm of restless bees. The warmth of the couch beneath you felt surprisingly comforting. Your eyes fluttered open, focusing on the worried faces that loomed above you. Nick’s brow was creased with concern, while Folio and Noah hovered nearby, their expressions a mixture of fear and urgency.

“Hey You're awake Thank god” Noah’s voice was a mixture of relief and concern.

You blinked again, trying to orient yourself. “What… what happened?” you croaked, your throat dry.

“You just passed out,” Nick explained, relief flooding his voice. “We thought we were going to have to call an ambulance. You scared the hell out of us.”

Feeling the flutter of embarrassment creep up your face, you managed a weak smile. “It’s okay; I’m fine—just a little dizzy. I’m extremely anemic; it’s not uncommon for me to have fainting spells.”

The guys exchanged glances, a silent understanding passing between them. Noah slowly eased himself into the spot on the couch next to you, his warmth a comfort.

“Let’s get you some water,” Folio said, his voice steady as he rose to search for something to hydrate you with.

Jolly, ever the caretaker, immediately draped a soft blanket over your shoulders, tucking it around you as if you were a small child. “Just take it easy. You gave us all a heart attack.”

Your laughter was half-hearted, but it still managed to lift the somber mood. “Sorry for the drama, guys,” you said, your cheeks flushing from both embarrassment and the warmth they provided.

“No more fainting!” Nick called from the kitchen, where you could hear him cleaning up the remnants of the glass, the sound of shards being carefully swept up mingling with the flickering light of the television.

You felt so grateful to have them around. Each one had their quirks, their own brand of humor, and as they all surrounded you, the way they cared for you struck a chord deep in your heart. Folio returned with water, and you took small sips, grateful to feel it soothing your throat.

“Do you need anything? Food? A pillow?” Noah asked, peering at you with those concerned eyes that made you feel cared for, the protective nature of your friends shining through.

You shook your head gently, not wanting to inconvenience them further. “No, really, I’m fine. You all just worry too much,” you chuckled finally, feeling a little more relaxed as the tension in the room began to ease.

Once everyone seemed to calm down, Nick returned to the couch, plopping down with a sigh. “So, what’s next on the movie? Can we carry on or should we get you a stretcher while we’re at it?” he joked, lightening the mood just enough for everyone to laugh softly.

[angelic-iam]

Stroke Of Luck Chapter One

Warnings: Profanity, angst, adult themes and conversations, hints at infertility, infidelity, death , light violence

A/N: Please excuse any grammatical errors I tried to go through it as best I could .second bear with me if its not up to reading standard im trying to jump back into my writing bag and this will be my first story I've actually released so I might be a bit rusty lol but please enjoy

Word count: 4273

Series Master List

I sat on the front porch of my family home trying to hold it together as I watched my father put the last of jordans bags into the car .Today was the day I had been dreading the most my older brother Jordan was going away again on deployment .He had told us months ago about his decision to reenlist and I had been preparing myself for his departure hoping it would put me at ease. It didn't. My brother is one of my best friends and to see him leave was going to leave me with a void. Even through my dismay however I was proud of him even if in this moment my emotions didn't allow for me to show it.It didn't take long before the empty space beside me was filled with a familiar face. I turned to see Jordan, his face filled with sadness. Respecting the space I was in he allowed for us to sit in silence a moment before deciding to break it. “you okay?” he asked concern laced in his voice. I shook my head “not really," I replied softly, trying to avoid eye contact knowing I would cry. He sighed pulling me into his side as the tears began to prick my eyes.” I promise this time will fly by so fast you won't even realize” he said kissing my forehead .”No jo I will notice it will not be the same without you. who else will keep me sane dealing with ma and jade you're the only thing holding us together “ I croaked “ Theres always facetime if that doesn't work then we write, and if that don't work I'll send a pigeon” he joked Not being able to it in hold in a laughed spilled from my lips Jordan joining in seconds later “Jo it's time to hit the road” our fathers voiced called out .Jordan nodded his head signaling for my dad to give him a moment. Jordan stood pulling me up with him into a hug me, nuzzling my face into his chest feeling the water works starting back up. “I love you so much josie” he said wiping a stray tear that slipped free “I love you more jo” I said turning him loose. “Oh, and sis do me one last favor” he said walking down the porch steps “name it” I called out “smile no more tears”. I cracked a small smile as he turned making his way to the car climbing in leaving me in a broken mess as I watch my dad's chevy Tahoe disappear down the road.

━━━━━━♡♤♡━━━━━━

In the same spot I stood five years later staring down the same dirt road my brother wouldn't have the opportunity of returning to. He was gone. Jordan was sent in on a rescue mission to save a fellow marine of his platoon, ironic in the end he ended up being the one needing saving. Shit went south and my brother was shot and killed in the line of fire. I was angry feeling as if the universe had slighted me robbing me of being able to share future moments with my brother. Him cheering me on when as I walked

the stage after completing nursing school, being a bridesmaid in his and his fiancé Arielle's wedding, holidays, birthdays. Gone. The only presence of him now in this moment was his framed picture that stood in the front of our family home for the repass. Not wanting to continue allowing myself to drown further in my grief I turned walking up the steps primary focus locating one of two people Arielle or my cousin India . It didn't take long to find ari talking with one of my aunts. Arielle was short in stature compared to most with smooth golden-brown skin that seemed to glow as the warm rays peaked through the window and a fit physique that would put Tyra banks to shame. No doubt courtesy of her personal trainer profession. Her round face framed with voluptuous curls. It was amazing to see her strength. Throughout her struggle a dimpled smile still adorned her face one that caused her Chinky eyes to disappear as she laughed. Noticing me walking over she politely closed out her conversation with my aunt walking to meet me. “Where did you disappear to “she quizzed giving me a slight nudge “ I needed some fresh air the condolences and sorry for your losses were becoming overwhelming” I huffed "Trust, I get it I have to many people asking me what i'm going to do with me and our son” she stated shifting uncomfortably. My heart ached for her. I couldn't imagine how it is to become a widow, single parent, and having to break the news to kaizen.

“for whatever your move or decision is you're not alone. You got me forever and so does nugget “I Said with half smile. She giggled at the nickname I assigned kaizen at birth. We glanced over watching the mini version of Jordan running around the house with the other kids.” I almost forgot your dad wanted to see us in the kitchen” she stated switching the topic. I nodded as we made our way to the cramped kitchen pushing past multiple bodies. My dad stood looking down at my mother with admiration as they talked among themselves “Hey daddy “I greeted walking over as he pulled me into a hug “Hey baby come sit your sister should be here in a moment” he said ushering me and ari to sit. I scrunched up my face at the mention of my sister. Jade and I had an exceedingly tenuous relationship. Jade was the youngest out of the three of us and was the golden child spoiled completely rotten. In my parents' eyes she could do no wrong and treated her as such. It didn't help that my mother drove the wedge and distaste for one another deeper pitting me and my sister against each other in a warped ass competition. Who is better than the other. My mother secretly rooted for jade while my dad on the other hands liked to play devil's advocate. Jordan was the only one who called them out holding everyone ,including myself accountable. The final nail in the coffin was catching Jade and my then boyfriend of two years Darien in bed together not to mention she continues to see him. To say I was hurt and angry was an understatement and as my family (aside from Jordan) tends to do they brushed it under the rug. As if her ears were burning jade stalks in turning her nose up at the sight of me. Feeling myself become anxious and agitated I decided to jump start the conversation “everything okay you wanted to speak with us” I question. Dad sighed grabbing a stack of papers from the counter sitting down placing them in the middle of the table. “We are going to start sorting out your brother estate and assets “Now” I asked in disbelief “Yes per your mother request”. Still not understanding the urgency I pressed further “Why so soon?” I said.” I have something important to take care of so I asked mom and dad to move it up” jade answered nonchalantly “what could possibly be so important that were doing this the day of our brothers funeral “I gritted out finding myself becoming angry. Sensing this Arielle reached over taking my hand in hers giving it a light squeeze “I have a trip I'll be going on we didn't want to move the dates” jade shrugged.” A DAMN TRIP!! WERE GRIEVING AND YOU HAVE NO CONCERN OR REGARD FOR ME OR FOR ARRIELLE. MY BROTHER ISNT EVEN IN THE GROUND GOOD AND YOU’RE WORRIED ABOUT A TRIP AND IF WE CALL IT LIKE IT IS YOU’RE WONDERING WHAT YOU CAN GET YOUR HANDS ON FUCKING SELF-” 

“JOSELYNN TAYLOR, YOU MIND YOUR MOUTH IN MY HOME I DIDNT RAISE YOU TO BE DISRESPECTFUL AND WE AREN'T GOING TO START NOW “My mom interrupted slamming her hand down on the table. “Dad” I turned to him secretly pleading for him to jump to my defense but as always nothing.” Josie, I get that you’re upset I do but let's just rip the band aid off and get this over with” he said pulling his reading glasses on his face. Meanwhile jade's face held a victorious smirk, and I wanted nothing more than to put it through some dry wall “The lawyers drew up the paperwork dividing the assets based on Jordan's will. He had a one hundred fifty-thousand-dollar life insurance policy that will be divided fourways between his parents, two sisters and fiancé Arrielle. His dodge challenger he left to his sister Jade Taylor while rest the remaining vehicles will go to his fiancé Arrielle Rodriguez” From the side of my eye I could see jade smiling. “As for his properties he leaves the townhome located in California 9870 Blancas Blvd. in Anaheim to Arrielle and lastly, the ranch house located at 1600 rose ridge rd here in Dallas Texas as well as the 8 acres surrounding it” My dad paused taking a moment to catch his breath as my sister sat up in her chair ready “ will be left to his sister Joselynn Taylor” he finished laying the paper on the table. Jade scoffed snatching up the paper reading it not believing what she's heard. I sat in shock looking over at Arrielle who nodded confirming it for me.

“ Me and Jordan decided to create a backup plan in case of a worst-case scenario. Never thought id actually have to execute it. We thought it'd be best if I moved back to Cali to be closer to my parents and family for support, the house is way too much for me and kaizen by ourselves and besides it would be a painful reminder to our son “she stated fighting tears. “He thought you were the most deserving seeing as your in school and jade has support from your parents figured it would be the best for you” ari said. "But that's not fair I got plenty of cars that's nothing can't you do something” Jade complained her turn now to plead with our parents. My mother diverted her attention now to me “Josie can't you switch it's not like you need it. You’re single, no kids unlike your sister who's been in a three-year relationship with Darien and expecting “she tried to reason while sneakily throwing jabs at me. I let my eyes dance between my parents and jade reading their body language. It was true. "You -your pregnant” I stuttered as a began to internally crack “Yes it was confirmed yesterday at the doctors. Four weeks along I think Darien is more excited than me” jade beamed getting a kick at seeing me squirm at the news “you know I could refer you to our doctor he could possibly help with that sour ass womb of yours” she bragged tossing her hair over her shoulder. I could feel my throat begin to close up as tears were now flowing down my face “Jade that's messed up and out of pocket l what is that to say to someone? You just be lucky your ungrateful behind received anything your words are uncalled for” Arrielle jumped in taking to my defense “thanks Arri for taking up for me, dad I can't do this I gotta go” I stood abruptly pushing myself away from the table storming out of the house hoping into my car speeding off.

I drove with no destination until my crying turned into dry heaving processing the news. Not only did I have to take my sister snatching my relationship with Darien from under me but now I have the pleasure to watch them start a family one that should've been mine. A shitty way to rub salt in the wound. Ten minutes passed by before the sound of coco jones ICU blared through the car's speaker. Taking a quick glance at the car screen. I see my favorite cousin India name displaying. I may not have had a sister relationship with Jade, but I did find one with India. If I wasn't with Jordan I was with her. Three musketeers. I tapped answer “hey India wassup” I asked trying to mask the fact I was just crying “Honey I should be asking you that seeing the way you just ran out of here what happened”. I sighed “It's a long story “I stated “ wanna talk about it over some drinks at dukes “she offered ‘ooh please link with you at 8” I replied “see you then” she agreed

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I tossed back my second shot of tequila squeezing my eyes closed as the clear liquid burned my chest India taking the chance to laugh at my facial expressions. “Thats no ordinary liquor “ I coughed “ Yeah but your ass needs it , now do you want to tell me what happened back at uncle Melvins” she said getting straight to business “ Where to start let's see that bitch jades greedy ass talked to my mom to convince her to push up sorting out Jordans affairs disregarding the fact were hurting, the only good and surprising thing was Jordan left a house to me but of course jade with help from my mom couldn't let that slide nooo they had to degrade me and spring on me that jades pregnant by Darien, Jade finished with saying she can refer me to her doc for my quote sour womb” I rambled with air quotes causing India to spit out her drink “ I know you fucking lying” she blurted “I Wish I was “ I chuckled darkly signaling the bartender for another round “so are we dragging her now or later” she asked in all seriousness “ we can't she's pregnant” I retorted “ AND her face aint her lip would have been swole before she could leave the house” India shook her head completely dumbfounded “I'm honestly in a space of being mentally exhausted it feels like I've had the worst luck of the draw. I can't seem to maintain anything good “I said “Josie Girl, I love you but were gonna gone head and shut your self pity party down. Sure you're going through some shit right now but it's not the end of the world. Your smart as hell ,On your way to becoming a nurse, fine as hell with a fat ass” she joked giving my behind a poke causing me to laugh “besides there's nothing you've lost that can't be regained Darien left but he aint the only man left in the world. You just got to find the right one for you one that slangs the meat” she said gyrating “oh my god dee must you do that in public and why so loud” I said covering my face in embarrassment “ I don't care you need some but first you have to stop running them away” she teased. ”it's not my fault they can't handle me “I shrugged leaning against the bar. She wouldn't call it running them off more so like weeding out the bad. Joselynn was tough overall to crack. Her hard exterior was difficult to get through. She was already to some degree antisocial so to get a conversation from her was a blessing. Even then you had to be engaging enough to hold her attention both in and out of the bedroom as she got bored easily. She wasn't one to just settle for anything as the slightest misstep/red flag and you were gone. Joselynn knew part of it was due to Darien.” you need to come with a sign that says you bite” She teased tooting her lips up at me as I shoved her slightly laughing. Before I respond Tamia’s Can't Get Enough came over the bar's speaker causing hoops and yells to erupt. Instinctively me and India made our way over to where the line dance started joining in. I was grateful for the distraction India provided and the peace she managed to bring. We continued throughout the night to dance to a few more songs take a few more drinks to the head before deciding to call it a night. Stumbling into the house I kicked my shoes off at the door making my way to my bedroom struggling to find the light. I went to take a seat on my bed seeing both a letter and a manilla envelope. The envelope from my dad the letter from Jordan. My hands trembled slightly gripping the letter not wanting to pull myself back into a state of hurt. I sat the letter to the side grabbing the envelope ripping it open out tumbling out a set of keys, inside the deed to the house and a small note from my father  

Josie i'm sorry for earlier on behalf of your mother and sister inside is the deed for the house the keys as well as the address I love you always pops 

Part of me was still angry but I had a soft spot for my dad and he knew that. Officially tired I sat the paperwork on the side table stripping my clothes and turning off the light, deciding to shower in the morning. It wasn't long till sleep overtook me.

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A month had passed since the day of the funeral and I had tried to bury the emotions of Jordan being gone so much that I buried myself in other things to keep my mind occupied. Working at the hospital being a CNA provided some distraction and what my job didn’t cover in the distraction field schooling took care of the rest. In its own way they also provided me an excuse and shielding from my unrelenting mother who still made it her business to call pestering me to rethink my decision about the home. I won’t. It was one thing I had power over, and I wouldn't relinquish it so easily. For the first two weeks of his passing I went back and forth on whether or not I would actually move into the home not feeling quite right about it but after starting to feel like things were becoming stagnant decided it was best to move. I slowly drove up the light graveled path mouth dropping at the sight of the house that sat nestled at the end of the dirt road. It was a stunning two-story ranch style house with a wraparound porch. Coming into a stop I tossed the boxed moving truck into park hopping down to get a better look at the home “this is gorgeous “India stated walking up after parking her car. “I agree can't believe he left this for me” I marveled taking it all in “well believe it toots now let's gawk at it from the inside we got work to do” she declared holding her hand out for the truck keys. Dropping them into her hands she went to grab the first box as I went to open the door. The interior was just as beautiful as the exterior. The multicolored stone walls paired well with the mahogany hardwood floors and high ceilings. The set up with the furniture accented well no doubt due to Arrielle's careful selection when they were here.” Girl this is neeiceeee it don't smell like roaches in here or nothing "India shouted carrying in one of the boxes “You don't have the sense you were born with” I chuckled at her reference to girls trip “you ready to get this over with”. She groaned knowing just like me how long of a process unpacking was going to be. Without another moment of hesitation we jumped in getting started.

After what felt like years later I folded the last of my clothes, placing them away as India flopped on my bed groaning. “ I hate your don't need a man for shit mentality that was horrible” she grumbled “ It wasn't that bad” I giggled plopping down beside her “ Like hell it wasn't my ass is going to be hurting for days” she countered “I'll make it up to you I promise” I teased pinching her cheek “ yes you will tonight I want dinner fried chicken, mac the works” she responded smacking my hand away sitting up on her elbows “ Your joking” I asked not knowing if she was serious or not “nope I'm serious”. “Dee I don't feel like it” I whined “tough shit” she said not wavering. She was just as stubborn as I was.” Fine but you're getting the groceries” I huffed out relenting. “Cool with me I'm gonna go home shower then i'll swing back”. She jumped up grabbing her keys walking out. Taking this as an opportunity I grabbed a t-shirt and underwear from my drawer walking into the large master bathroom. I turned on the shower allowing the warm water to run relaxing my tense muscles strained by the lifting. After I finished I got dressed walking back in the room looking for my phone realizing I must have left it downstairs. Making my way to the stairs I could see the light from the living room reflecting on the wall. I figured India may have left it on that was until it flicked off. I froze on the top stair as my mind began to race, trying to rationalize what I saw. Maybe it was India. No, she wouldn't be back that quick. Maybe it was a blown fuse but a scared part of me didn't want to chance it. Tip toeing back upstairs I looked for something to use as a weapon eyes landing on the hammer I had used earlier to hang photos. Clutching it tight I slowly crepted downstairs the only noise was the sound of my heart thumping in my ears. Rounding the corner I froze seeing a figure standing a few feet away in the doorway the moonlight highlighted their 5’8 figure while providing shade from their face. Fear momentarily fueling me I got ready to charge forward when someone grabbed hold of my wrist twisting it causing my grip on the hammer to loosen eventually dropping it. Not having time to process what was happening I was grabbed and flipped on my back pinned down by the larger party. Still I struggled against the intruder managing to momentarily free my arm. I drew my arm back throwing blows anywhere they would land this didn't do anything but piss the person of as I was lifted slightly from the floor and slammed back down causing me to yelp in pain. Panic set in flooding through my nervous system. “TERRY WAIT SHIT I THINK THAT'S A WOMAN” a voice cut through from the other side. The lights flicked on seconds later giving me the chance now to get a look at the intruders. The one by the door stubbled faced held panic as he too assessed our current situation. Remembering the heavy weight at my midsection my eyes shot to the one who had me pinned. My breath hitched in my throat.

His honey kissed face glared back down at me while his plump lips twisted up in a snarl. His chiseled arms flexed as he kept me held in place but the most defining thing however. His eyes. A beautiful pool of blue gray encircling hints of hazel and green something similar to a painter who accidentally had his watercolor paints blending together into a perfect mess. “If I let you go do you promise to not do anything stupid” his baritone voice questioned snapping me from my awkward eye raping. I nodded in response. He stood pulling me effortlessly up with him. “Who are you and what are you doing in my house?” I asked finding my voice coming back as I rubbed my now sore shoulder. “I'm Mike that's terry" the one from the doorway answered “sorry if we scared you” he said sheepishly. “Scared is an understatement and that still doesn't answer why you're here or why I shouldn't be calling the cops for breaking and entering and assault” I fussed through gritted teeth. Still not saying much since turning me loose the one name terry walked past me grabbing something from his bag on the floor walking back over to me handing me a piece of paper. Jordans handwriting.

Hey T if you're receiving this letter it's because I'm dead. It's funny thinking on it seeing as the squad always joked calling me mister invincible but yet here I am gone. I thank you for always being there for me since meeting you you've always been like a brother to me rather than a fellow marine in arms. Given our prior conversation about your situation, I wanted to do one thing for you. I offer you T a place of solitude if you ever need to get away the address is listed below keys are hidden in the porch light fixture. Continue to be great .. I love ya man  

                                                          Jordan signing out for the last time 

I looked up at him handing the letter back to him. "You knew my brother” I said feeling the wave of his death rushing back again. I watched as his face widened in realization of who I was. “Yes we served together. I apologize for roughing you up I didn't realize you were Jordans sister. I thought you might have been someone that had broken in. I nodded understanding. “it's fine I thought the same” I said calming down. “Look we don't want to crowd your space and sorry for the intrusion. I didn't think anyone would be here. Your brother as you can failing to mention you moving in we will leave” Terry said signaling for mike to grab their bags. I sighed looking towards the ceiling having an internal battle with myself and before I could stop myself the words flew from my mouth “You can stay”

[waynes-multiverse]

Glad to hear the tête-à-tête with Ted went as expected 😂

Let's dive into this wonderful comment! 🤍

Seeing a glimpse of their growing friendship in the first flashback scene was somehow both sweet and bittersweet, but of course, there’s also that hint of “more” on Beau’s side that he’s desperately trying to hide. 😅

Definitely bittersweet 😭 Makes you really feel for Beau. What an incredibly tough situation to be in, honestly 💔

Loll not the dad voice! So sweet that he tried to “cut her off,” even though he ultimately wasn’t successful. Always more shit hitting the fan, isn’t there? 😬

Yup, and they both know it. They've picked a very hard job 😅 But it's hard to resist the dad voice! But there's understanding on both sides. Beau, for sure, knows what it's like to be obsessed with a case 🙈

That’s what makes their situation all the harder – the fact that she’s in law enforcement as well and understands this aspect of things all too well. 😰 It’s truly amazing that she and Beau were able to get past this hurdle and actually fall in love. It shows how forgiving she is, I think.

Yes, this 💯 And I definitely see her as forgiving. She knows who the real enemy is, and it ain't Beau. She knows even good people can make mistakes. Part of the job. Tragic, but it happens 🤷‍♀️ Plus, I think considering her own hidden feelings for him, she had an easier time seeing past all that.

HELP. I’m deceased. 🤣🤣🤣 I was smirking/laughing throughout this entire exchange, but this in particular took me out! Ted has nothing but audacity. But at least the reader had Beau’s back on this one. 😆

Glad that exchange made you laugh! I honeslty love writing those ridiculous scenes. This one reminded me somewhat of Ben vs. Colt in Rehab 😂

I imagine Ted as some stuck-up, somewhat bougeois prosecutor that both Beau and Randy talked a lot of shit about behind his back. So Beau's not only offended she dated him for himself, but probably for Randy too 🤣

Ahh, nice that they had this heart to heart, and also this revelation. But while of course that really does nothing to soothe Beau’s guilt, at least it allows her to forgive him.

I saw this mostly as an attempt to soothe Beau's guilt. You can tell she was still a bit judgmental in her thoughts à la "Well, I, the genius, wouldn't have done it/seen right through it, but oh well, guess not everyone can be me..." 😅

Eventually, she forgave him either way because she knows the risks and dangers of the job and that not every decision you make will be the right one in the end

LMAO Oh Beau. You’re right, it is funny to imagine him saying “slimy coyote.” 😂 Bet this is what he wishes would happen to Ted:

Oh, he for sure wanted to Wile E. Coyote Ted 🤣🤣

Oooh what a declaration that is from her! The fact that Beau’s the best she’s ever had, even including Randy, I’m assuming. 😅

Well, there's two options lol, right? Either she only said it to make him feel better, knowing his insecurities. Or, it's fully true and she decided to go for it. I honestly think it's the second. Beau seems to match her energy a bit better than Randy probably did 😂🔥

And Beau, sweet Beau, that was a beautiful rom-com worthy line right there. 💗

Ikr? Imagine Carla hearing that! She'd be livid 😂😂 But I enjoyed playing with the lines there of "first loves" vs. "true loves"

Ooh shit, Diane is certainly up to something. 😬😬

Oh boy, we all should be concerned! She might have some (deathly) surprises up her sleeve... 👀

Polaris – Chapter 7

Series Summary: When Beau Arlen moved to Montana, he left behind a past he wasn’t proud of. But when a series of murders requires the FBI’s help, Sheriff Arlen‘s ghosts come back to haunt him one by one. With a wrong turn waiting at every crossroads, it’s hard to make the right choices and find his way back home – back to you.

Pairing: Beau Arlen x FBI Agent!Reader

Warnings: 18+, fluff, angst, serial killer, mentions of cartels, grief, smut

Word Count: 7.2k

A/N: The chapter where we find out why Ted is on Beau's punch list aka The One With Ted... 😂

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Tag List

Chapter 7: Storm Coming

May 2021

“I sold the house,” you said, your voice ripping through the quiet of the car during another starry stake-out night.

“So you’re homeless now?” Beau joked and peeled his eyes away from the front window view and glanced at you from the driver’s seat, his hand resting on the steering wheel, the other one in his lap.

You chuckled. “Yup, but I got a hot plate now in my motel room and one of those Italian moka pots. So, you know, some would say I’m living the dream.”

Beau snorted in amusement before he pensively rubbed his mouth with two fingers. “You didn’t have to sell the house, you know?”

You heaved a sigh. “Yeah, I kinda did, though… I didn’t like staying in there anymore. It’s just… too many memories, I guess? ‘Sides, I’m always down here anyways. Actually considering moving here.”

Beau frowned at you, his nose scrunching. “What, to Mexico? Are you nuts? Over my dead body are you doin’ that.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you had a say in it,” you retorted rather playfully and put a shocked palm on your chest in mock.

“Damn right, I do,” Beau scoffed his reply with a teasing grin. “Who do you think is lookin’ out for ya, huh?”

“Wait, you think you are? That’s what you believe?” You snorted a laugh, entering banter territory with him.

It was usually how you passed your time during most of these stake-outs – laughing, teasing, and the occasional talking about your problems. You’d never known Beau like this before. He was your husband’s best friend, but he had been more of an acquaintance to you. Now, after months of spending close to every day together, it felt like he was your best friend. Since Randy’s death, he’d been there for you, even if it was mostly out of guilt.

“Yeah, what d’you think?” Beau countered challengingly.

“Oh sweetie, you’re not looking after me. I’m looking after you,” you stated confidently. The smile that twitched on his lips seemed to actually agree with you. “Out of the two of us, you’re the way bigger wreck. Some would even think it’s your husband who died, not mine.”

“Are you calling me a girl?”

You coolly shrugged your shoulders. “Either I’m calling you a girl, or I’m calling you gay. I’ll let you pick.”

Laughingly, Beau scoffed and muttered, “You wish I was gay.”

However, you still heard his mumbled reply and responded, “Actually, I wish you were a girl and that I was gay.”

Beau stared at you and leaned back against the door for a better view of you, his brow raised and the corners of his lips drawn slightly upwards in amusement. “What are we even talking about?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted with a shake of your head.

The two of you then burst into loud laughter that filled the entire SUV. For a moment, all your sorrows and hardships seemed to be forgotten, carried away to the desert with the nightly breeze. Then, the familiar and comfortable quiet took over the car again.

“I’m moving out of the house, too,” Beau said, his eyes focusing on the barren landscape and desolate road ahead. “I’m giving it to Carla. I mean, she didn’t ask me to. God knows she can take care of herself… But I want Emily to keep living in the home she grew up in, you know?”

“Yeah, I get that. That’s really nice,” you said quietly. Your soft smile then morphed to a grin. “So you’re homeless, too, huh?”

Beau laughed, throwing his head back into the seat. “Yeah, guess I am. Maybe we should live together?” he suggested half-jokingly.

“Like roommates? Ugh, God no!” You scoffed in abhorrence. “We’re way too old for that. You’re over forty, I’m barely in my thirties–”

“You do know I know exactly how old you really are, right?” Beau teased.

You decided to ignore that jab and continued, unbothered. “It would be seriously so sad. The Widow And The Divorcee – sounds like the worst sitcom on the planet. ‘Sides, it’d be super awkward if one of us starts dating again.”

“Fine, maybe you’re right,” Beau relented with a soft chuckle and then glanced at you sideways. His heart gained speed in his chest. “You ever think about it? Dating? Gettin’ out there again? Been nine months.”

You twitched your shoulders, choosing not to look at him. “I don’t know. Is nine months long enough after your husband died?”

Thoughtfully, Beau licked his lips and let out a small sigh. “I don’t think there’s a timeline, or a right and wrong. I just think it’s one of those things that when you’re ready, you’re ready.”
 “Well, consider me not ready then, I guess,” you replied honestly.

“Alright,” Beau accepted, bobbing his head. “But I still think you should try again at some point, you know? You shouldn’t be alone for the rest of your life. First of all, it’d be a total waste, ‘cause, I mean, look at you. And secondly, you’re barely in your thirties, after all,” he repeated your earlier joke with a soft grin.

You felt the heat creep to your cheeks in the moonlight. As you looked at him, you could see his smirk, making you laugh. “Noted,” you replied and were thankful for his pep talk. “I mean, there’ve been offers.”

Beau quirked one eyebrow, a hard lump forming in his throat as his chest tightened. “Offers? Like plural? Who?”

“Well, just some of the guys from our team. Cody, Jordan, Ted…” you named a few. “Also a few locals. Remember those guys we played pool with a few weeks ago? Two of ‘em asked for my number.”

“Huh. That is plural…” Beau pursed his lips and couldn’t keep his brow from wrinkling, his grip on the steering wheel stiffening. “Well, you know, when you’re not ready, you’re not ready. Shouldn’t force anything. No rush, darlin’.”

Smooth, Beau thought wryly with an internal sigh.

“Right, I know,” you agreed. “I do miss sex, though. Getting kinda bored of my vibrator.”

Beau choked on his spit. “Jesus…”

“What? Am I not allowed to talk about it? I thought we were friends. You’re supposed to care about my well-being and happiness,” you argued, frowning.

“I do care. Just… Can we please not talk about that?” he begged and exhaled a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his freckled nose.

“Fine. I miss having women around…” You shrugged and muttered, “Didn’t peg you for a prude.”

“Okay, let’s just get one thing straight – I’m not a prude,” he clarified in defense, his cheeks turning a deep shade of red.

“Alright, also noted,” you quipped, smirking to yourself. Sometimes you enjoyed making him a little uncomfortable. His blushed cheeks could be quite cute. “What about you? Have you still not talked to Carla? I’m sure you can win her back if you tried. You’re a lot better now.”

“Well, thank you for the, uh, vote of confidence, but it’s really over, I guess. We just talked about all the divorce proceedings last time. I actually think she started datin’ someone recently,” Beau told you.

Your eyebrows rose in surprise. “Really? Who?”

“I guess some rich tech guy. I don’t know…”

“And you’re good with that?” you questioned in disbelief.

Beau scoffed a humorless chuckle, shaking his head. “Ha, no… But what am I gonna do? Kinda shot myself in the leg with that one. I don’t blame her for moving on. It’s been over for months now.”

“That sucks. I’m sorry. I was kinda rooting for you two,” you admitted.

“Well, thanks, but we weren’t you and Randy,” Beau said. It made your brow knit.

“What d’you mean?”

“C’mon, you know what I mean,” Beau replied as if it were obvious, but you still shook your head. He sighed. “You and Randy would’ve never gotten divorced.”

“You don’t know that.” Honestly, you doubted it yourself, but you were too curious to find out what he meant by his statement.

“I do know that,” Beau insisted with certainty. “You guys had that once-in-a-lifetime kinda love. The kind that made other people jealous, you know? Your love made every other relationship pale in comparison. I always figured once the honeymoon phase was over, you’d settle and be less vomit-inducing, but that never happened. Me and Carla were never like that. Not even in the beginning,” he explained, a small, soft smile shaping his mouth. “You guys were special. True love. The stuff folk singers write cheesy songs about.”

“I guess we were,” you mused quietly, the memory of everything Randy was to you causing tears to well in your eyes.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” Beau apologized as soon as he noticed the sadness on your face. He reached his hand over to your side and squeezed your thigh gently, just above the knee.

“No, it’s alright,” you brushed him off, swallowing your heartache down. “But hey, if Carla wasn’t your once-in-a-lifetime, maybe she’s still out there. You just haven’t found her yet. I mean, that’s kinda a nice outlook, right?”

Licking his lips, he bobbed his head, his gaze focused on his hand on the steering wheel. “I doubt it.”

“Why? Never say never,” you said encouragingly.

“Well, maybe I already met her, and it’s too late now,” he replied. It sounded more like an actual fact than a hypothetical theory. You found yourself wondering.

“What, did you have like an old college flame? The one that got away?” you teased lightheartedly, but he only grew more serious.

“Somethin’ like that,” he replied vaguely, rubbing his mouth with his fingers.

“Look her up on Facebook. Maybe she’s divorced, too. You could reconnect or something,” you suggested. He nodded but didn’t seem too convinced. You then shot him a hesitant glance from your periphery. “So, now that Carla’s moving on, are you gonna start dating now, too? Jump back into the game?”

“I guess so… Why?” A part of him was curious to hear your response, while another part reminded him that his desired answer was only wishful thinking – and completely insane on top of that.

“That fiery brunette lady at the bar last night seemed really interested in you. Maybe you should hook up with her if she’s there again tomorrow night?” you proposed in earnest.

Wide-eyed, Beau blinked at you in incredulity – like you had lost your goddamn mind. “I’m sorry, what?! Hook up? Who are you right now? Are you tryin’ to set me up?”

“Yeah.” You shrugged simply, not seeing what the big problem was. “Don’t look at me like I’m trying to convince you to get a tramp stamp above your ass with a dirty needle. I’m just trying to be a good wingman… woman. Randy would’ve tried to set you up, right?”

Beau sighed frustratedly. “Yeah, he would’ve,” he admitted in a grumble and then barked, slightly more furious, “But you ain’t him. And I don’t want you to be, so stop it, alright?”

“Geez, I’m sorry. I was just trying to help,” you mumbled defensively and raised your hands in surrender, unsuccessfully hiding your upset over his reaction. He felt guilty when he saw the small pout on your face.

Beau rubbed his forehead before dragging his palm over the rest of his face. “I know. I’m sorry, too,” he said and let out a deep breath through his nose. “I just-… I guess I’m just waiting, okay?”

“Waiting for what?”

Beau squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. For you to be ready, he wanted to say. But he couldn’t very well do that now, could he?

“For Christ’s sake, Y/N…” he breathed exhaustively. That was all he managed to say. With his palm on his mouth, he rested his elbow against the car door, gazing out the window.

“Why are you so upset?” you asked, your brow woven with confusion.

“Switch subjects,” he requested.

It was a phrase the two of you used whenever you didn’t want to talk about something anymore. When someone pushed too much, or the topic got too emotional and you needed a break. The only rule was to always respect the request, so you had no choice but to let it go after that.

“The Texans game sucked last night, huh?”

That elicited a snort from him, and he looked at you with a warm smile. “Yeah, goddamn awful.”

“How many times are you gonna watch those?”

Beau’s question broke your concentration. Your gaze snapped from your laptop screen to his concerned face. You’d been rewatching the victims’ videos for four days straight now, trying to find more clues. Maybe even something that directly led to Diane.

“I keep thinking maybe I’ve missed something,” you mumbled and stared back into the computer, your teeth gnawing on the pen between your lips. “It’s 48 hours each. We have twenty-four victims. I keep watching them sped-up to get through them all, but maybe I should slow ‘em down. I mean, I’ve watched them full-length, normal speed a couple of times before, but maybe I should watch ‘em even slower and really focus, you know? There’s gotta be something there…”

Bobbing his head worriedly, Beau pursed his lips and took a scan of your desk. He counted eight empty cups of coffee and five cans of energy drinks. There were bags under your red eyes and your hands were jittering. He knew you hadn’t slept a lot. He tried to hold you in his arms, but as soon as he dozed off, you snuck out and went back to work.

Beau shut the laptop. “You’re cut off.”

“Hey!”

“Y/N, you need to sleep. Just look at you, darlin’. This obsession isn’t healthy. I’m taking you home,” he declared sternly, ignoring your protests. You were pretty sure he had used his dad voice, too.

“Y/N, you need to sleep. Just look at you, darlin’. This obsession isn’t healthy. I’m taking you home,” he declared sternly, ignoring your protests. You were pretty sure he had used his dad voice, too.

“I need that woman in prison, Beau.”

“You startin’ to sound like Jenny…” Beau quipped under his breath.

“We’re running out of time. There’s only one day left before the next victim drops,” you stated and tried your best to keep your voice steady as it broke off towards the end.

“I know.” Beau clasped your shoulder and squeezed gently. “And we’ll get her. I promise you. But you’re no good to any of us if you’re exhausted and losing it right now.” You nodded and rose from your chair. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you flush against him, kissing the top of your head affectionately. “How about some dinner, huh?”

You grinned warmly. “What, like a second date?”

“Exactly like a second date,” Beau said and mirrored your grin. He was making up for lost time as best as he could, even if it meant taking you out every night for the rest of your life.

Your phone buzzed on the table, your brow quirking at the number. Eagerly, you picked up and wound yourself out of Beau’s embrace. “Special Agent Y/L/N… Uh-huh… Great, thank you.”

Beau pursed his lips. “We’re not going out, are we?”

“‘fraid not, Sheriff.” You shook your head and chuckled at his groan. “That was IT. They’re finally done and sending over the IP addresses.”

“Alright, guess I’m gettin’ take out,” Beau announced with a small sigh, knowing the two of you were in for a long night – and not the one he had planned.

You smiled and pecked his lips. “Thank you.”

August 2020

Beau’s heart thudded frantically in his chest as his knuckles tapped your front door in the early evening. The sky was a color spectacle full of azures, indigos, and apricots as the summer sun slowly set. His boots only stood on that same spot not even twenty-four hours ago. It still felt like a surreal nightmare he couldn’t escape, his hope to wake up soon a ceaseless prayer.

He’d stayed with you all night, held you as you cried yourself to sleep. Beau awoke on your couch with your head resting on his thigh and a strange feeling in his gut. He couldn’t help but think you were beautiful, even in a state of utter turmoil, shoving said thought swiftly down into the depths of his darkening soul.

But he’d spent all day thinking of you, plagued by guilt and torn by misplaced feelings. He’d sat through hours of interviews, going over and over the events of last night till his mind spun like a hamster wheel. He was forced to fill out forms, sign documents, and recount each unforgettable step. He’d listened to lectures, sermons, and admonitions. His captain gave him a tongue-lashing that sounded like mere white noise before he was sent home with a suspension – investigation pending.

Only he didn’t go home; he came here.

At home, his wife and daughter were waiting – for a husband, a father, an explanation. None of which he could provide. Beau wanted to wallow in his grief, his guilt, his loss in peace. He lacked the strength to be strong, play pretend, and act above it all. He wanted to be punished, sent to perdition, and held accountable for his lapse of judgment. A suspension wasn’t good enough. It barely patched the abysmal gaps in his heart.

The only suitable punishment was you. Witnessing your suffering was his personally crafted hell. You were the broken remnants of his destruction, the shattered pieces of his idiocy, the explosive fallout of his arrogance.

And you hadn’t answered a single call or text of his. His torturous worry was part of his penalty.

Consecutive rings of the doorbell and incessant knocks remained unanswered. For a moment, Beau rested his forehead on the door. He felt helpless and clueless all the same. You had friends and family to take care of you, probably better suited and closer to you than him, but somehow he felt burdened with the responsibility.

He took the spare key out of the left-side planter and barged inside. The ground floor was deserted. Last night’s uneaten dinner still sat untouched on the table. It felt like a whiplash against his bare back.

Bolting upstairs, he found the door to the main bedroom ajar. He pried it open slowly, the sight of you delivering his second lashing. This time, he felt the sting burning through to his heart.

He found you curled up in bed, on your husband’s side, in your husband’s t-shirt, with your wedding photo album clutched tightly in your arms. His breath halted for a moment; his heart did, too.

Did he do this? Was this all his fault?

“Y/N?” His deep voice was quiet and careful as he spoke. Slowly, he walked over to your side and knelt down in front of you. “Darlin’, hey… You need to get up. Eat somethin’.”

Beau was sure you hadn’t moved all day. He didn’t ask you if you were alright or how you were doing. The question seemed insulting. The answer was obvious. Your phone was lighting up on the nightstand with a million unanswered calls and messages, his own among them. Your beautiful eyes were vacant, red, and empty. You didn’t cry, however, not anymore. You were dehydrated and all out of tears at this point. You never looked at him, not even a glance.

“I want him back,” you whispered, your voice coarse from screaming, crying, cursing.

Beau nodded, licking his lips. Caringly, he caressed your head, brushing a few strands of messy hair out of your face. “I know. I hope you know I’d trade places with him in a heartbeat if I could.”

For the first time your eyes found his. Your gaze was scathing and piercing. “Tell me what happened.”

Beau let out a harrowing sigh. He had rehashed the story all day long. He wasn’t sure if he could do it again, but maybe this version was the most important one. Who deserved the truth more than you?

“Y/N, I don’t think this is such a good idea, darlin’,” Beau tried to reason, mostly for himself. He wanted to hold on a little longer, the idea of you hating him tearing him apart. He wanted to spare himself the additional guilt, the anger, the hurt.

“Tell me or leave.”

Beau closed his eyes and nodded hesitantly. “Okay, alright.” He took a deep breath and settled down on the floor, leaning his back against the wooden bedside table. “We were closing in on that biker gang. Few murders, arms trafficking, drug deals… You know the drill. I’m sure Ra-… he filled you in.”

Not that long ago, Randy had asked you for advise on the case. You gave him your contacts in the DEA and a number to a CI.

“Your DEA guy warned us. Said the gang was working closely with the cartel down in Juárez. But I had my own intel that only a few members were meeting at the Hatcher warehouse in MacGregor. It was supposed to be a small deal. But I figured it could lead to bigger things if we shook ‘em down, you know? But fuckin’ Harper told us no like usual. Refused to give us back-up. Said to pass the case on to the DEA. But Randy and I worked our asses off the last few months to get even this far. We were so close. I didn’t wanna let go… So, I suggested we go in anyways. It was supposed to be only three guys from the gang. I knew if we were smart about it, we could easily take ‘em down, you know?”

You rolled onto your back and propped yourself up on the bed. Shaking your head, you chuckled humorlessly and grabbed the half-empty whiskey bottle from the nightstand. “‘Course you did. It’s not the first time you broke a rule or shit on authority.”

“Yeah, and I was right every single time,” Beau bit. His anger wasn’t geared at you but at himself. He knew he was in the wrong. He flew too close to the sun and got burned. But he still felt the need to defend himself, even if it was unjustified.

His gaze drifted to the dresser and the patch of wall above it, decorated with photographic evidence of yours and his partner’s life together. The wedding, dates, vacations, holidays – it was all there. Beau had watched it all, start to finish. He wished he could rewind the tape and cut off the ending, all so you could have the love of your life back. He didn’t know yet your cassette had a B-side. One that featured him.

“You got fucking lucky, is all,” you scoffed.

“Randy backed me up on it!”

“Of course he did! You’re his fucking partner! He would’ve followed you anywhere if you asked him to,” you snapped, shaking your head. You gulped down some whiskey then and locked your jaw before you met his eyes again with a glare. “And? What happened then, Beau? Was it only three guys?”

“No.” The word was almost inaudible. He shook his head with a harsh swallow. “They were meetin’ with a few cartel members there. My intel never said anything about that. When we were inside and saw what was really going on, it was already too late to get out. They made us, bullets started flyin’… They got a hold of Randy and… shot him.” A tear escaped down his cheek, his throat closing as he tried to choke out the last bit of the story. “I had to leave him there. I barely got out myself. I’m sorry, Y/N. I know this is on me.”

Your lips twitched with a bitter smile. You didn’t look at him, just rubbed your tired eyes. “Damn right it is. Get out.”

“Y/N, please–”

The storm in your eyes made him stop as you met his gaze, his useless apologies becoming stuck in his throat. “I said, get out. I ain’t asking a third time. You’re the reason my husband is dead. You’re the reason I don’t even have a body to bury. So, get the fuck out.” Like a snakebite, your words were targeted, sharp, and venomous.

You finally got out of bed and prodded towards the en-suite bathroom. The truth had been what you needed to switch the fighter inside of you back on. You knew what you wanted to do then and were determined to get it.

“Y/N–”

“Do you know what cartels do to bodies, Beau? To rivals? To law enforcement? ‘Cause I just came back from a job where we found forty-eight decapitated bodies, left to rot inside the walls of a house. Still haven’t found the heads yet. Probably never will,” you told him and stared him dead into his dark green eyes. “Ever seen that before, desperado?”

Beau bit his lips, averting his gaze. “No.”

“Yeah, didn’t think so.” You scoffed and crossed your arms over your chest. “Now, leave. Please. Get the fuck outta my house. I don’t wanna see you anymore,” you spat and slammed the bathroom door shut behind you.

Beau then grabbed the whiskey bottle you’d left and walked out of your home. It was the first of many nights he started to drink himself to sleep, but at least it kept the nightmares temporarily at bay.

“Theodore.” Beau forced a bright smile onto his freckle-dusted face, although the stiff features could barely fool anyone. At least, they wouldn’t have fooled you.

“Beau, good to see you again.” Ted smiled and did a more convincing job of it as he waltzed into Lewis and Clark County’s Sheriff’s Department. It almost seemed like he meant it. “I was surprised when Y/N told me you got a gig as a sheriff here.”

Translation: I was surprised because you were such a fuck-up back in Texas.

Beau feigned a chuckle. “Yeah, I bet you were.”

“Hopefully, you’re givin’ the DAs here less headaches,” Ted jabbed under the disguise of friendly banter. He then turned to Jenny with that same shit-eating grin. “Your sheriff is a little troublemaker.”

Sweet Lord, Beau wanted to whack the bastard.

The blonde deputy coolly brushed the accusation off. She shrugged and playfully nudged Beau’s arm, sending the Texan attorney a smile. “I prefer him that way.”

“Hey, there she is!” Beau smiled with frazzled relief when you finally hurried into the station. A little while longer, and he definitely would’ve thrown a punch.

“Hey, Ted. Thanks for coming. How was your flight?” You greeted him with a warm smile and a quick hug.

“Good, good. Never been to Montana before,” Ted said and then let his eyes wander up and down your body. “Look at you. You look great!”

“Oh, uh, thanks.” You subtly cleared your throat. You could physically feel Beau stiffen next to you. In your periphery, you could spy a tightly clenched jaw and a few strained muscles in his neck.

“Mind if Y/N and I borrow your office, Sheriff Arlen?” Ted asked and emphasized his title. “Considering the nature of this case, I’d like to keep it as private as possible. Don’t want anything to reach Ms. Newton’s ears.”

Your hunch had been right. Several IP addresses pointed to Diane, some to public Wi-Fi’s. You and the team still needed to connect her to the other states and find out where she’d been staying there, but you could definitely trace some posts in recent weeks to her home in Montana. It was enough for an arrest warrant, but you still needed more evidence.

Additionally, it had all come together a little too easily. It seemed like a giant trap you were walking into. Diane wanted to be caught. But why?

“Why don’t I just join you? I’m sure Y/N here doesn’t mind,” Beau suggested with a tight smile and then snaked his arm around your middle, pulling you closer. “Ain’t that right, darlin’?”

Internally, you sighed a little at his obvious territorial pissing, but you were willing to throw him a bone. You stretched up and claimed his plump lips in a fervent kiss that Beau only all too happily reciprocated.

“Not at all, Sheriff. You know I always appreciate your input,” you replied with a dirty smirk at the double entendre.

As Beau looked down at you, he mouthed ‘God, I love you.’ You grinned in response.

“Happy to give it to you,” he said with another sweet peck of your lips. A triumphant and slightly cocky grin graced his lips as he looked back at Ted.

“Oh, so you two are back together?” Ted realized, his brow rising to his hairline. He’d never seen you two together but certainly had heard the whispers down in Mexico from your old task force. He’d been the DA for those cases as well. You’d never explicitly told him about you and Beau, though, even when he had tried to pry a little on those dates you went on.

“Well, I’m a hard one to quit,” Beau quipped almost proudly, like a peacock showing off his fan of feathers.

“As are cigarettes and many other vices,” Ted shot back with the same stupidly proud grin.

Translation: You’re an ass. And a failure. She deserves so much better. I’m ‘better.’ But maybe that didn't need a translation.

Beau should’ve known it was hard to out-argue a lawyer and ground his jaw. After all, he’d been married to one for many years.

You, on the other hand, shared a wide-eyed and baffled look with Jenny that bordered on amusement. You had almost gasped in shock. You hadn’t expected such a fiery reply, sure the men would stick to their Southern manners. But, oh well, everyone’s packing in fucking Texas…

“Why don’t you two go ahead? I’ll join you in a minute,” you ordered more than you earnestly proposed and shooed the two men down the hallway towards Beau’s office.

“Sure it’s such a good idea to lock those two in a room alone?” Jenny teased, her eyes lingering a little too long on Ted’s perfectly formed ass as he sauntered down the hall.

You couldn’t blame her. You had checked out Beau’s in the same breath.

“It’s only for a short time. They’re not gonna kill each other,” you laughed it off. Jenny arched a doubtful eyebrow at you. “That quickly,” you added a correction. “So, what did I miss here?” you asked and nodded towards the two men, closing the door to Beau’s office behind them. All you heard last was them talking about the recent Texans game.

Ugh, of course, they’d end up by football…

“Dick measuring contest,” Jenny supplied wryly.

“Ah, figured…”

“Well, better them than to lock Agent Y/L/N and the sheriff into the same room,” Poppernak joked with a soft chuckle as he appeared next to you and Jenny, chiming into the conversation.

You gaped at him in mock-shock. “Mo! I can’t believe you just said that,” you chided playfully.

His cheeks turned crimson red. “I’m sorry, Special Agent Y/L/N,” he apologized in a fluster.

“Mo, I told you to call me by my first name,” you reminded him with a smile. “Or I’m gonna have to start giving you silly names like Beau does.”

“Oh, I love Sheriff Arlen’s nicknames,” he quickly defended with a nervous laugh.

“Do you?” Jenny tilted her head with a questioning eyebrow.

He shrugged. “They’re clever.”

August 2020

“Old Fashioned,” you ordered with a look at the bartender, feeling Beau’s confused eyes and crinkled brow wander up to you. “Couldn’t have picked a nicer bar, huh? This place is a dump. You know that, right?”

Beau clicked his tongue and took a sip from his Ranch Water. “What are you doing here? Thought you never wanted to see me again.”

You let out a small sigh but didn’t meet his gaze. “Carla called me. Your family is worried about you.”

“I didn’t tell her where I was. How did you know I was here?”

“I didn’t. Carla said you haven’t been home in three days. Figured you’d gone on a bender. This is the fifth cop bar I checked out. Finally got lucky,” you said and thanked the bartender as he placed his drink in front of you. You settled down on a barstool next to Beau.

“Quite the effort. Sure I’m worth it?”

Your tongue swept over your lips. “Beau, look at me.” His forest-green eyes found yours upon your soft plea. “I’m sorry I put all that shit on you. It wasn’t fair. It’s not your fault, okay? His death isn’t on you. I know you loved him like a brother.”

“I did.” Beau took another sip of his drink. “But it is my fault. I was reckless and arrogant. We both know it.”

“It was a set-up, alright? I talked to my DEA contact. Cody said your intel was wrong. They knew you and Randy were closing in on them. They wanted to get rid of you,” you explained.

Beau smacked his lips. “I still shoulda known better. I should’ve seen it was a trap.”

“Maybe,” you admitted. You couldn’t say you would’ve done the same thing, but you knew Beau would’ve never purposely put Randy in danger if he had even the faintest idea. “But it could’ve happened to anybody. This was bigger than you knew.”

“It wouldn’t have happened to you,” he stated quietly. You couldn’t argue with that. You were more by-the-book than he was. You would’ve never gone against a superior’s order. You would’ve respected it.

“Look, just go home. Talk to your wife. Get some help,” you said. “You missed your suspension hearing, but I spoke on your behalf. Told them it wasn’t your fault. The DEA backed me. Harper’s gonna reinstate you. Just come back as soon as you’re ready.”

Beau nodded slowly. Even if he didn’t say it, you could tell he was thankful for your efforts. “I can’t go home.”

Your brow furrowed. “Why? I’m sure Carla will understand. You need to talk to someone about this. Go to therapy – and not the alcoholic kind. Losing a partner is not something you get over quickly. You need people in your corner, including your wife.”

“You mean the wife that lets criminals out on the street?” Beau’s gaze was focused on the glass in his hands. The wrinkles on your brow deepened. “The guy that shot him… Carla’s his defense attorney. Was, at least. He was supposed to do time, but two months ago, she got him paroled.” With a dark chuckle, he emptied his glass.

“Beau…” You knew he had always struggled with Carla’s job, making you sometimes wonder about their dinner conversations at home. “It ain’t her fault more than it is yours. She’s just doing her job. You know that. You’ve been together for so long, you’d think you’re used to it by now.”

Beau scoffed a chuckle and gestured to the bartender for a refill. “I was a young cop back then. Wasn’t on the job as long. I didn’t know it would bother me so much. Still lived in that hopeful bubble, I guess.”

You smiled knowingly. “You mean the ‘I didn’t think I’d see as much shit and injustice as I do now’ bubble?”

He snickered softly. “Yep, that one. Just didn’t think it’d be this hard, you know?”

“I get it. I mean, me and Carla butt heads all the time over this stuff. But we do it in a competitive fun way and then get drunk,” you said with a light chuckle. “Guess it’s different when you’re married, though, huh?”

“Yeah, it is…” he sighed.

“Still, go home. Talk to her,” you encouraged but could see your words of wisdom fell on deaf ears. “By the way, the funeral’s on Saturday.”

He turned his gaze away from his glass and found your eyes. “You need any help with that?”

“Maybe you can give a eulogy. You knew him best. I think he would’ve really liked that,” you said with a warm smile. No matter your own feelings, you knew deep down Randy would’ve wanted you to forgive his partner.

“Yeah, I can do that. Anything you need, okay?” Beau clasped your hand that laid on the bar counter and squeezed reassuringly before dropping it again.

You smiled appreciatively and teased, “Maybe show up sober. Or at least close-to.”

Beau chuckled a little. “I promise.”

You stood up from your seat then and put some cash for your drink on the counter. “Alright, I’m heading home. You need me to call you a cab?”

“Nah, I’m good. I’m just gonna finish this drink, then I’ll head out, too,” he said.

“You sure? Don’t make me come back here,” you threatened playfully.

Beau laughed softly. “I won’t. Thanks for everything, Y/N. I mean it.”

You sent him a smile and gave his shoulder a squeeze on your way out. “You’re welcome. Get home safe, okay?”

However, Beau couldn’t keep any of his promises. He made it home after three more drinks and woke up on the front lawn of his house. Carla wasn’t happy when she found him in the morning as she brought Emily to school. But Beau couldn’t stop. Every time he closed his eyes, the tragic events flashed before him like a horror movie, witnessing Randy’s death in a never-ending loop. He kept seeing his partner get dragged away, heard the shot over and over again like a rain of bullets without a ceasefire.

The guilt was eating him alive. The guilt of getting his partner into this mess in the first place. Of leaving him behind. Of surviving and coming out alive when he didn’t deserve to.

So, Beau kept drinking to forget, even though he knew it was a futile endeavor. The memory would never fade, but at least it was blurred.

Your heavy breaths echoed through the small trailer. His mouth moved down the column of your throat, leaving a wet path of ravenous love bites in its wake.

“Fuck, baby,” you moaned wantonly, his grip on your flesh punishing as he kept you pressed flush against him while he devoured you on the little dining table. Your ass sat on the wooden surface, your crossed ankles locked tightly behind his muscular back.

“God, you made me so happy today,” he growled against the shell of your ear, his rising length rubbing against your core through layers of denim.

“I can see that.” You giggled, your hands dangling in his hair. “There’s no need to hate him so much, you know?”

“Says you,” Beau quipped and unzipped your jeans, eagerly pulling them off you as his mouth sucked your clavicle purple and blue. “That slimy coyote always had it out for me.”

Beau removed your panties as well, tossing them behind his shoulder where they landed in the kitchen sink. “Whoops.” He grinned charmingly but was unstoppable, freeing his throbbing dick as he shoved his jeans and boxers barely over his ass. He didn’t bother to slip out of them all the way, too impatient to wait any longer to enter you.

“Still, I’m already yours. I’ve always been yours,” you said and braced yourself on his broad shoulders as one large hand on your back pulled you closer to the edge of the table. His other hand grabbed his cock, twisting his fist along the hard, long shaft a few times before he glided his cockhead through your slick folds.

“Not always.” With one harsh thrust, he pushed inside you, your tight walls fighting to make room for him and adjust to his stretch.

You gasped at the pleasurable burn that coursed through your body and ignited every sizzling nerve. He dropped his head to your shoulder, giving both of you some time to get used to each other. You could tell you were in for a wilder ride tonight. You always loved when he fucked you rough and hard. There was something raw and animalistic about the need in his hypnotizing green eyes.

Beau then claimed your lips with one fervent kiss, enough of a spark to cause a wildfire. He met your gaze, hands gingerly cupping your cheeks. “But I love that you’re mine now. And I’m sure as hell gonna make you mine tonight, darlin’.”

You crashed your lips against his, your kisses frenzied and untamed as his hips began to slam into you. His pounds into your pussy were relentless as you swallowed every inch of him. You gripped him tight, already feeling your first orgasm bloom. It accumulated like dark, violent storm clouds on the horizon, forecasting roaring thunder and heavy rainfall.

“Oh God! Fuck, baby!” You screamed as your climax tore through you like a hurricane, your cunt gushing on his cock and pulsing around him. Your nails dug into his shoulder blades and scratched down his back as you came undone.

Beau groaned into your ear, squeezing his eyes shut as he barely held on himself. But he didn’t let up and kept up his furious pace, not ready to stop yet. “Shit, keep doing that. You’re so fucking tight, Y/N,” he grunted against your skin, your sensitive flesh barely withstanding his ruthless pumps. “Want you to come again, darlin’.”

With his declaration, his hand slipped between your sweat-clad bodies. You came close to losing your mind as he thumbed furiously at your clit, the stars already starting to twinkle in front of your eyes. You could feel yourself get shoved to the edge once more, staring down the steep cliffs of white-hot ecstasy.

Your mind was consumed by need, his grip on your hips bruising as you exploded. You cried out raucously, your whole body quaking in his hold upon your eruption, the aftershocks so powerful they could cause cracks in your bones.

Beau spilled his seed deep inside of you, his body stuttering in rhythm with yours as your earthquake took him down with you. Hazy gazes met each other with lazy smiles as ragged breaths mingled.

“Fuck, that was good. I think that one might make it into our Top Ten.” Beau chuckled gravelly and placed a gentle kiss on your temple.

“Hmm, not sure. We have a few greatest hits.” You giggled and bit down on your lower lip with a mischievous twinkle in your eyes. “Can I tell you something?”

Beau cupped your cheeks, thumbs caressing the heated and rosy skin as he lifted your gaze. “Anything.”

“Just between us, you’re the best lover I ever had,” you confessed with a wide grin. The corners of his mouth rose to match yours.

“Well, between us, I’ve never loved anyone like I love you. You’re it, darlin’. You know that, right? You’re the love of my life,” Beau revealed, making you smile brighter than you ever had before.

“I’m not sure about the sex, but this moment, right here, is probably gonna make it into the Top Ten,” you said softly as a few tears stung your eyes.

“Good.” Beau smiled and pecked your forehead.

The buzzing of a phone shifted your attention. You recognized it as yours, and Beau was quick to retrieve it from your jeans pocket in the pile of clothes on the floor.

“It’s Jenny,” you told him before picking up. “Hello… What?! Uh-huh, we’ll be right there.”

Beau’s brow furrowed as he watched your features flicker through an array of emotions. “Bad news?”

“Uhm, honestly, I don’t know,” you said and swallowed some of your confusion down, gathering your thoughts. “Jenny said Diane just walked into the station and gave herself up. She is ready to confess but only wants to talk to us.”

“Us? As in us two?” Beau’s eyes narrowed. You nodded. “Well, that doesn’t sound fishy at all,” he commented wryly.

“Yup, I don’t like it.”

Chapter 8: Chemical Bonds – JUNE 26

A lot of revelations and foreboding in this one... 👀 Also, I just love having Beau say the word "coyotes" for some reason 😂

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[skeletboi]

Super short update because my life is a mess.

But here is part 24 of the Intridimensional Au!

First /// Previous /// Next

__________________________________________

“Impressive as ever.” Ford said as he looked at the robot arm on the work bench.

“Thanks, Stanford.” Fiddleford replied quietly.

Ford watched Fiddleford place his good hand over the arm then glanced up at Fiddleford's face and frowned.

“Something wrong?” he asked.

“Lots a’ things are, I reckon.” Fiddleford said with a humorless huff of laughter. “Ya know when I went back home fer Christmas and fergot ta get Emma-May a present?”

“I recall, yes.” Ford responded, his frown deepening.

“She was already purdy darn mad at me before that. I wore baggy sweaters ta try and hide the metal cast on my arm so she wouldn't go worryin’ ‘bout it, but Tate ain't dumb and heard the hum of the components. He asked me about it, ‘cuz he's at that age where they ask a million questions, and I told him it was a metal cast. ‘Course he's an imaginative kid so he immediately started calling it a robit arm. He ran ta Emma-May ta tell her, and I thought she was ‘bout to murder me on the spot.” Fiddleford paused and picked up the arm. “He'd love this, but Emma-May would hate it.”

“I love it, if that makes you feel any better.” Ford said, placing a hand on Fiddleford's back.

“It does.” Fiddleford said with another quiet laugh. “But I can't stop thinkin’ about that. Emma-May knew how I felt ‘bout you in college, and we got in a purdy big fight ‘bout it before I came ta Gravity Falls. I love Emma-May, but our parents both loved the idea of us bein’ together more than we did. I think maybe we were more like best friends than spouses, but I promised her I'd be back ‘cause, above all else, we jus’ wanted Tate ta have a normal childhood.” Fiddleford set the arm back down and choked on a laugh that sounded suspiciously more like a sob. “‘Spose I'll jus’ hafta live with the fact that he won't. I don’ know if he'll ‘member me at all.”

“Fidds…” Ford said softly, unsure of what else to say with his own guilt and regret tearing at his chest.

“If I knew it was gonna turn out this way I prolly woulda jus’ said screw it and kissed ya as soon as ya opened the door to yer damn creepy cabin in the woods.”

Ford cracked a smile at that, but Fiddleford still looked a thousand miles away as he stared down at the arm.

“You would have stopped me.” Ford said after a moment.

Fiddleford glanced over at him in question.

“You say you would have kissed me right then, but I know you, and, if you had known this was the outcome, you would have left.” Ford clarified.

“Maybe.” Fiddleford responded thoughtfully, “But maybe not. Maybe I’m too scared in every timeline.”

“Fuck that.” Stan said, coming up behind them and dropping the last box at their feet. “I saw your face when Ford mentioned fighting back against Bill. That wasn't fear. That was determination.”

Fiddleford smiled sadly over his shoulder at Stanley.

“I thought you'd grow out of being so cheesy.” Ford deadpanned.

“Nope!” Stan replied with a smile. “But if you two are done being nauseating, we have some boxes to go through. I found a box of brown meat! It says it expires in 1993, but who the fuck knows what year it is in this dimension. My plan is to eat it now, ask questions later!”

“I believe you meant ‘die of food poisoning later’.” Ford noted.

“Or die of starvation! Might as well eat mystery food and die the fun way!” Stan laughed.

“Dysentery don't sound fun.” Fiddleford replied.

“Whatever, nerds.” Stan said, motioning to the boxes. “Just grab what you want so we can get on with life. I found a shot gun, too. You're welcome.”

Fiddleford laughed but did as he was told and put aside his arm project to start rummaging through the boxes.

___________________________________________

Sorry non-Fiddauthor fans. I needed Fiddauthor.

I originally wasn't going to write this bit in, but I wanted to give some context to the guilt they're both still feeling and the relationship between Emma-May and Fidds. Emma-May is bi in this universe, but prefers woman. Is that a cop-out to make myself feel better about how much Fidds hurt her? Yes, yes it is. But I am doing it anyway because I do what I fucking want.

I have another art piece nearly done, so I'll probably post it tomorrow. For now, enjoy. Or whatever.

[recurring-polynya]

In one of my other fanfics, I made an allusion to a story from Rukia and Renji's youth where she got nervous about the size of her chest and made Renji give an opinion on the matter. I was always very charmed by the idea of it, and earlier this week, I felt like writing it, so I did. Originally, I didn't intend to post it, because it skirts a little close to underage sex stuff, but a) they're immortal ghosts and they live on their own and become child soldiers like two years later, and b) it's really nothing. Teens, even human teens, can see a boob. It's fine. Don't read it if it bothers you. Also, if this bears resemblance to multiple stories I have written in the past, it's because I think Rukia is just like that. This will probably not be the last one, either.

Rated a hearty PG-13 for cussing, partial nudity, and some adolescent sexual awakening

| read on ao3 |

"Renji," said Rukia. "I need your opinion on something."

Renji had been breaking up sticks to dry out for firewood around the backside of the broken-down squat he and the gang had been trying to get into shape for their winter digs. He wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his arm. "My opinion?" he grumbled. "Is everyone else off somewhere?" It suddenly occurred to him that he hadn't heard anyone else's voice in a while.

"Well, yes," Rukia mumbled. "They went into the woods to try and set some traps and maybe do some foraging. But I'm not asking because you're the only one around. I was waiting to ask you until everyone was busy."

That got Renji's attention. This was not the first time Rukia had cornered him like this. He assumed she did this to the other guys, too, but he didn't actually know for certain. Renji tossed the stick in his hand back onto the pile and turned to give Rukia his full attention. She was standing in a funny way, her arms crossed awkwardly over her chest. She looked almost like she was cold, except that it was early September and still sweltering.

"What's up?" he asked.

"You're going to wonder why I am asking you this," she said, her eyes fixed somewhere off to one side, "and it's because I'm trusting you not to be weird about it. Everyone else would try, but then they would be weird about it, and I know you won't be."

Renji continued to regard her silently. She wasn't asking anything particular of him, just stating what she expected. Renji decided he liked the idea of being a guy who wasn't weird about stuff, and decided he would do his best to uphold that trust. He was also prepared for whatever she was going to say next to be spectacularly weird. This was Rukia, after all.

"Also," she said, "you go around with your shirt off all the time. You're the least self-conscious person I know about. You know. Body stuff."

An alarm signal went zinging through Renji's nervous system. It was true that he wasn't all that concerned about bodies, his own or other people's. A long time ago, he'd had to make a decision about Rukia's body, which he sometimes had to touch and slept next to at night and had seen naked more than a few times. She'd become a little secretive about that recently, and he'd taken care to respect that decision and avert his eyes when he needed to and made sure all the other guys did too. The decision he had made was that Rukia's body was exactly like Fujimaru's and Mameji's and Kosaburou's, which was to say, it was a thing that existed but was none of his business, unless say, she needed an injury patched up or something like that.

"Something wrong?" he asked gruffly.

"Not-- well, I don't know. That's what--that's what the opinion is for."

Renji rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm really not sure I'm the right person to ask. I know the old herb lady is pretty deep in her own brain most the time, but if you catch her on a good day, she knows a lot of stuff about--"

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Renji, I just want to know if my boobs are good or not!"

Renji stared at her. Rukia's face was beet red now.

"Uh…what?"

Rukia made a little huffing noise. "Look. I know you know I've been binding my chest for a while now."

Renji shrugged noncommittally. Rukia hadn't been particularly shy about letting them see her in her chest wrap. A lot of girls in Inuzuri did. Usually, it was a safety measure.

"I think they might be done growing. I'm worried they're…well, they're kinda small."

Renji ran his fingers through his hair and tried not to look at her. "Seems like that would make them easier to bind, no?"

"Well…yes, that's true."

"It's not like it's something you can control. You shouldn't worry about it."

"I just don't know! Maybe they're fine actually! I'm the only one who gets to see them and I think I may have gotten too wrapped around my own axle about it and I just wanted a second opinion, okay?"

Renji sighed. "Okay. Sure. If it'll make you feel better."

Rukia took a deep breath and then lowered her arms. Nervously, she tugged at her yukata below the sash to get it adjusted properly.

There was now the slightest curve in the fabric between her shoulders and her waist. Renji wasn't sure he even would have noticed it if she were just some girl he saw on the street. But that curve was there, and it was doing something weird to the pit of his stomach.

Cleavage was no rare sight in Inuzuri. Both in the streets and the gambling halls, plenty of women kept theirs on display for, uh, business reasons. Renji could tell the difference between the more and less attractive sets, but he'd never been quite as excited by the prospect of a hearty set of tits as some of his peers. He didn't think this constituted any kind of moral high ground. The fact was, he was just mostly into dudes. A pair of well-muscled forearms or a particularly sharp jawline was usually more likely to do him in. But there was something about that mysterious curve, the suggestion of tits, of Rukia's tits…

"They look fine to me," he announced.

Rukia looked down at them and frowned thoughtfully.

A strange, slightly foreign thought, possibly a stray memory from his human life, popped into Renji's brain. "Isn't there even--like with fancy kimono--aren't you supposed to make a smooth profile? Maybe you've just got a fancy-lady figure."

Some of the color had receded from Rukia's cheeks. "Why do you always know these things? Also--fat lot of good that's going to do me."

Renji shrugged. "What kinda good were you hoping they were gonna do you, anyway? I mean, you wouldn't wanna-- that is--" He grimaced, thinking about business reasons again.

"I might like to kiss someone, someday!" Rukia declared, cheeks going hot once more. "I'd like…to be worth looking at. You're going to be ten feet tall and have shoulders for days and you've already got that hair, so I realize that's something you've probably never once thought about."

Renji stared at her uncomprehendingly. "You think I'm good-looking?"

Rukia seemed to be staring at something over her shoulder. "You're certainly striking."

Renji had honestly never thought about himself in that way before. Mostly, he thought he'd stuck out in a way that was mostly pretty inconvenient, given their skulking and pickpocketing lifestyle.

"You have an interesting voice," he pointed out, drawing the words out as he tried to think of more things a theoretical person who was not him might find attractive about Rukia. "And you're good at a lot of things." She also had a pretty face, maybe the prettiest face he'd ever seen in Inuzuri, with big blue eyes that you could just fall into. He couldn't say all that shit, though. It would just embarrass both of them, plus she would think he was lying to make her feel better. He wasn't. It wasn't even, like, his opinion, it was just the objective truth.

Rukia huffed again, clearly unsatisfied.

Renji threw up his arms. "They're under your clothes! Wouldn't you rather kiss someone who likes you because you're cool, rather than because you've got a nice pair of knockers? Which isn't even to say they aren't nice! You just can't tell! They could be great under there. That's it's own kind of allure. The-- the, uh, mystery." He regretted saying it the moment it was out of his mouth. This always happened with Rukia, though. He was always telling on himself.

Rukia stared at him for a long moment. Then she hooked her finger over the closure of her yukata and pulled it away, staring down into the depths.

"Are we done?" Renji asked, trying to sound bored and failing when his voice wavered on the last word.

Rukia looked back up at him. "You've never even see a naked girl-tit, have you, Abarai?"

Renji wrinkled his nose. "Not…not really, no. Not…head-on."

Rukia set her jaw. "Okay. We're doing this."

"What--" stammered Renji. "What are we doing? We don't need to--"

Rukia pulled her yukata wide and shimmied her shoulders loose.

Renji swallowed thickly.

He had changed his mind. He did, in fact, like girls. Fuck, did he like girls.

Rukia's breasts were small, that was just a fact. They were also gorgeous. Smooth and straight on top, ending in a sharp, rosy nipple. They curved gently on the underside back to where they rejoined her body, like two ripe, blushing pears. Renji could imagine cupping one in his hand, the way it would fit in his palm perfectly. He squeezed his hands into fists, reminding himself that they were dirty and covered in small bits of bark from breaking the sticks. He absolutely could not reach out and touch them, even beyond the possibility that Rukia would murder him if he did (would she, though? He wondered). It turned out this was a mistake, because now he was thinking about kissing Rukia's breasts, about the way they would taste, how he could take nearly the whole of one in his mouth. He squeezed his eyes shut. "Fuck, Rukia, put your shirt back on!"

"They can't be that bad," Rukia grumbled.

"They're not, they're really good! Surprisingly good! You should save them for whoever it is you want to kiss! Please put your shirt back on!"

"You're so weird," Rukia laughed, and he was glad to hear the ring of relief in her voice.

There was a long pause with a few rustles of fabric being adjusted. Renji chanced to unsqueeze one eye to see if she was dressed again. He was just in time to see her cross the second side of her yukata over the first, catching a last glimpse of a pretty little tit before the fabric settled over it. A secret once again, but no longer a mystery. Fuck.

"You can open your eyes now, you big baby," Rukia announced, reknotting her sash. Evidently she hadn't noticed him peeking. She wasn't even blushing anymore. "Thank you."

"I don't know why you asked me," Renji mumbled. "You know I'm no good at being reassuring and shit like that."

"I didn't want you to be reassuring," she replied, looking up and favoring him with a brilliant smile. "I wanted you to be honest. Which…clearly you were. I don't know what else that could possibly have been."

"Shut up," said Renji.

Rukia snorted softly. "Do you wanna go find the others and fix their snares for them? I'm sure they've set them up wrong."

"I wanna finish dealing with these sticks first," Renji replied. It took his entire strength of will to unclench his hands and pick up a stick, a long, heavy one. He winced when it broke much more easily than he had expected it to. The sound of it was deafening.

"I can help," Rukia said cheerfully, picking up another stick and snapping the side branches off it expertly, humming while she worked.

Renji picked up another stick, and suddenly wished the pile was bigger than it actually was.

"Hey, Renji?"

"What now?"

"They really are--?"

"Yes. Don't ask me again."

Rukia gave a little chuckle, and so softly that he almost didn't hear it, added, "Huh. Who knew?"

[shannonsketches]

Why is the anime so weird, it's not even the same series dude?? It's like,

Anime:

GOKU: I have a great idea to bring peace to the universe, and my leadership and compassion alone will unite us all. I have No Flaws and am A True Relatable Everyman :)

VEGETA: NO! I AM THE BEST AND I WILL CAUSE PROBLEMS UNTIL I AM RECOGNIZED AS SUCH!!!!

Manga:

GOKU: Vegeta what's cornmeal made of? I know it's what the corn eats, but what's it made of? VEGETA: Hey Kakarot let's play the quiet game until one of us dies.

[t4tstarvingdog]

had the craziest nightmare today. hit every nightmare genre and added a new one just for me