#i miss when he was high and hadn't showered in months

[beanghostprincess]

remember what they took from us

[roosterforme]

Stateside | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley made a mistake last summer when he left for his deployment without ever asking you out, and then he thought about you a lot when he was gone. He was stateside again for less than a day when the other guys coerced him to help with a fundraiser at the Hard Deck. A friendly wager with the squad might not be the only thing he wins by the end of the night.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, drinking, swears

Length: 4500 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Check out my masterlist for more. Banner made by @thedroneranger Written for Pick Your Poison

Bradley had barely been stateside for twenty four hours when he woke up in his bed at noon to an array of texts arriving all at once. Five months on an aircraft carrier in the middle of the Pacific Ocean with nothing much going for him left him surprisingly exhausted. It wasn't that he didn't want to see his friends, he just needed a full day to himself to readjust. 

He groaned and rolled over after glancing at his phone and seeing the words Hard Deck in a message from Jake. He closed his eyes again after tossing his phone aside, but about ten seconds later, he cracked them open again. If there was one thing he had consistently thought about over the course of those five months, it was you. Your bright smile, your perfect laugh, your navy blue tee shirts that said The Hard Deck across the front.

When he reached for his phone and checked the message from Jake, he sat up in bed and rubbed his eyes. Maybe this could be an excuse to see you again sooner rather than later.

Hangman: Hey, we need you to come to the Hard Deck tonight. It's the annual charity event, and Bob can't make it. We're short a bartender. And don't try to bitch out of this, Phoenix told me you're home.

Bradley covered his face with his hand and thought long and hard about this. The real bartenders would be there to help which meant there was a chance you'd be one of them. If he volunteered for this, then maybe he'd find himself in close quarters with you for a few hours instead of the other Naval officers he'd been stuck with for months on end. Just the idea of accidentally bumping into you while pouring a beer had him texting Jake back.

Yeah, I'll be there.

Even though he was still pretty tired later in the afternoon, Bradley took a shower and then spent some extra time on his hair before dressing in his lucky shirt. That five month deployment was the reason he didn't ask you out during the summer, and now he was nervous to see you again. He had good intel from Penny that you'd been single the last time he saw you in August, but what if you had a boyfriend now? Or worse, what if you didn't even acknowledge him when you saw him?

He groaned as he looked in the bathroom mirror. Hours, possibly even days... that's how much time he'd had you on his mind while he was away. And for what? A crush on a girl who was probably too young for him? A cute bartender at the Navy hangout who definitely got asked out nightly? Shit. He was a lost cause. 

And now he was going to be late if he didn't leave right away. He grabbed his keys, and headed out to his Bronco which he had missed dearly. So if nothing else, he'd get to cruise around later after the event. But on the ride to the bar, all he could imagine was how you'd look in the passenger seat, smiling at him at every stoplight and singing along to the radio. 

"Fuck," he grunted as he parked next to Jake's truck before heading inside. He let his heart fill with hope as he strolled in to find Penny, Jake, Javy and Reuben behind the bar with two bartenders. But neither of them were you.

"Rooster!" Reuben cheered, and soon he was being clapped on the back and high fived by the guys he hadn't seen in months. It was nice, but he couldn't help but think that his smile would have been more genuine if you were here.

Jake smirked. "So glad you left your perch and joined us."

Bradley laughed as he gave Penny a hug. "Come on, man, I literally just got home."

Penny smiled up at him. "Thanks for filling in. It'll be great." Bradley really wanted to ask her about you, but then Penny patted him on the cheek before turning to reach under the bar top. "This will be a breeze for you guys," she said, handing matching shirts to the four of them. "Just a basic bar menu tonight. No super fancy cocktails. Just beer, wine, some pre-made sangria, and a few different kinds of shots."

Bradley started to unbutton his lucky shirt before pulling the new one on in its place. He smoothed his hand along the front of the blue shirt that said THE HARD DECK FIGHTS CANCER, and he noticed the two bartenders glancing at him. They were both cute but decidedly not what he had been hoping for tonight. 

"Hey," he asked them with a nod. They smiled in response, so he decided to just go ahead and ask them about you.

"She quit a few weeks ago," the first one told him. "After she graduated from law school."

"She moved, too," said the second one. "Left San Diego."

Shit. He was too late after all, nodding in response to them as he pressed his lips together in a firm line. He'd never been any good at this kind of thing, which was why he always fell into casual relationships. What should he have done? Asked you out, gone on a handful of dates and then tried to persuade you to wait five months for him? Just for him to get deployed over and over again? That wouldn't have been fair to you.

But he didn't feel like it was fair to him either, because right now he was having a hard time even remembering exactly how pretty you were and the precise tone of your laughter. Probably for the best. At least he only needed to do this event for a few hours before he could leave and go for a long drive. He swallowed down his disappointment and turned toward the guys who were in the middle of conversation. 

"How about a side wager?" Javy asked, tossing a bottle of vodka up into the air and catching it over and over again. "You know, for the charity?"

"What did you have in mind?" Bradley asked as Penny went to peek outside. "Because I doubt Penny will let us strip for charity again after last year. The two of you scuffed up the bar top," Bradley added, gesturing at Jake as well.

They both started laughing like idiots before Jake said, "Nah, let's give Penny a break this year and just tally up our tips at the end of the night. Whoever donates the least amount of tip money to the charity is the loser."

"Oh, that's a great idea," Javy said as he ate the orange slices and cherries that were meant to garnish the drinks. "What's the punishment for losing?"

Reuben smirked and said, "Loser has to report to the tarmac on Monday in his underwear. Instant push ups from Mav."

"Deal," Jake said.

"Absolutely," Javy agreed.

Three pairs of eyes settled on Bradley, and he slowly said, "Okay." If he strolled out of the locker room in just his underwear and boots on his first day back from a long deployment when he was supposed to sit down with the admirals and Maverick and have a debrief, he'd probably earn a greater punishment than just a few push ups. But it was for the charity, so he'd do it.

But he soon learned he'd made a mistake after Penny called out, "Let's get started," and propped the doors open. The first person through the door was Reuben's wife, followed by Javy's fiancee and Jake's girlfriend. And all of her sorority sisters. 

"Shit," Bradley grunted. "Did you make me come here just so I would lose?"

Javy was handing out pint glasses that they could use as tip cups as he smirked, and Bradley was wondering if there was any way he could actually stuff his discreetly with cash from his own wallet.

"You'll be just fine," Jake drawled as the jukebox came blaring to life. But even the music was mocking him as Slow Ride started to play, and Bradley had people in front of him expecting him to make them drinks. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Jake's girlfriend open her purse and start stuffing Jake's tip cup full. "I feel like that's considered cheating," Bradley told her, and she rolled her eyes and smirked before tucking five dollars into his cup as well.

"Don't tip Bradshaw, Sweets," Jake complained. "We made him come here as a buffer!"

"I knew it was a setup!" Bradley groaned as he listened to someone ask him for some wine and some beer. That was easy enough. He knew how to do that. Or at least he thought he did, but then one of the bartenders who had volunteered for the night told him he poured too much wine into the glass.

Then a woman asked him for a green tea shot, and he stared at her blankly. He leaned closer to Javy and asked, "What the hell is in a green tea shot?" 

"I don't know," he replied as he poured two pints at the same time. "But you better figure it out, because your tip cup is still practically empty."

"Shit." He was scrambling to flag down the young bartenders again when he froze. He only caught a glimpse from the corner of his eye, but he knew it was you simply by the way you moved and the color of your hair. And then you sat down in the only empty stool left at the bar and smiled at him, your voice drawing his eyes up to your perfect face. 

"Rooster. You're back."

The little thoughts and fantasies he'd indulged in while deployed had nothing on the real thing, and he knew he was blushing as you smiled and waited for him to respond. But it had been months since he'd been this close to you, and now he was really beating himself up for not trying to make you his sooner. Because if you were his, he could do all the things he wanted to do right now. Like kiss you.

"Rooster," you repeated with hesitation in your eyes, your voice softer, nearly drowned out by the jukebox. 

"They said you quit," he blurted out as he leaned on the bartop, curious as to why you were here tonight. "And that you moved."

Your eyes went a little wider as you nodded, your smile still soft. "I did. You asked about me?"

"Can you make me a green tea shot or not?"

Bradley begrudgingly switched his focus to the woman next to you and sighed. He was about to tell her he didn't even know what that was, or that maybe she should fuck off so he could talk to you, but then you reached out and ran your fingers along the back of his hand. 

Your touch was brief but intentional, and all of the irritation seemed to ease out of his body as his gaze snapped back to yours. "Yeah," you told the other woman as your finger grazed his knuckle one more time. "He can make you a green tea shot."

"I don't even know what's in it," he told you, with a helpless smile, trying to fight the urge to reach for your hand. 

You kind of shrugged as you said, "I do. I'll talk you through it."

Bradley's smile grew which left you giggling as he said, "I'm kind of helpless back here. Nothing like you."

"Well, you can learn from the best," you told him, reaching out to squeeze his wrist before pointing to the many liquor bottles behind him. "Irish whiskey and peach schnapps," you told him, leaning on the bar now, so close that he just couldn't bring himself to turn away from you. 

"Okay," he said, memorizing the exact color of your eyes. "Thanks for doing this."

You bit your lip and smiled up at him, and when Bradley moved just slightly closer, he thought he heard you whimper. Your eyes were full of emotion that reflected his own as you said, "Focus, Rooster. Irish whiskey and peach schnapps."

He nodded once and then finally moved away from you as he scanned the bottles and grabbed the two you told him. "Good," you said, pointing to the mini fridge and saying, "now get the sweet and sour mix. It's in a pink jug. Yeah, you got it. Now you need a half ounce of each."

Bradley listened to you explain how to use the shaker while he gave you another helpless look. "I'm just a simple beer or bourbon drinker," he said as he strained the drink that his customer had been waiting several minutes for into a shot glass.

You laughed and said, "I know you are, and it's kind of endearing that you don't know what you're doing. Now top it off with a splash of Sprite." 

Bradley grabbed the soda gun, pressed the little green button and then looked up at you again. "This is endearing?" he asked, finally sliding the shot to the annoyed woman who unenthusiastically put a dollar in his tip cup and turned away.

"Very," you promised him. "And now I want you to make me a kamikaze shot."

He gave you a bland look, but his heart was pounding. "Are you joking right now?"

Bradley was hyper focused on your lips as you said, "Not at all. You can handle it. It's vodka, triple sec and lime juice. I prefer Finlandia. Impress me, and I'll leave you a nice big tip for the charity."

Then he groaned. He had forgotten about the wager and the other patrons looking for drinks and just all of it. He raked his fingers through his hair. "Thanks, but I'll probably still end up in my underwear at work on Monday morning." 

When he pushed away from the bar again, your eyes dipped down to his jeans before snapping back up. "Underwear?"

"Yeah," he grunted as he reached for the type of vodka you liked best. You told him how much to use, and he dumped it in a shaker. "The guys coerced me into volunteering tonight. I literally just got home from deployment, but here I am... their scapegoat," he said, arms held out at his sides. "They threw out a side bet based on tip money, and next thing I know, all of their wives and girlfriends show up with a bunch of cash."

While he shook your kamikaze shot, he watched you turn first to your right and then to your left, eyeing up the overflowing tip cups in front of Reuben, Javy and Jake. Your lips parted, and you gaped at Bradley, but your eyes looked a little devious now. "You know, all of this makes a lot of sense since the guys made me come tonight."

Bradley carefully poured out your shot and asked, "What do you mean they made you come?" He realized his voice sounded annoyed, but how did they all have your phone number anyway? He'd been standing here thinking about asking you for it, but they were apparently already texting you. 

You accepted the shot and took a small sip to taste it. "They kept messaging me earlier today, saying I absolutely needed to be here tonight. They said it was important I made it to the charity event." Then you tipped your head back, and Bradley was treated to the soft looking expanse of your neck as you swallowed down the rest of the shot he made. When you were done, you set the glass down and licked your lips as you dug some money out of your pocket. "That was delicious."

While you loaded his cup with all the cash in your pocket, Bradley tried to ask you where you lived now. If the guys were bugging you earlier today, you couldn't be that far. But before he could get a word out, you pushed yourself up so you were kneeling on the bar right in front of him, and he looked up at you as you grinned down at him. 

"Don't worry, Rooster," you said as you ran your fingers through his hair. "I got you." Then Bradley was reaching for your hips. He didn't fucking care if the place was packed, he was ready to haul you off to the back hallway and ask you if he could kiss your pretty lips. You beamed at him as his hands met your body, but you just cupped your fingers around your mouth and shouted over the music, "Come get your drinks from Rooster! He knows how to make everything! But kamikazes are his specialty! And he's hot!"

His eyes went wide as you slipped out of his grasp and back onto your stool while an influx of mostly women queued up in front of him. "What did you do?" he asked, trying to mentally process an order for a cosmopolitan while stumbling over you calling him hot.

"I'm helping you not embarrass yourself at work. Keep the vodka out. Grab the Cointreau and a martini glass. We're about to show the guys what's up."

Bradley struggled through drink after drink as quickly as he could, but you never gave up on him. Occasionally you'd slide things out of his way or point out where he could find something he needed, and at some point you grabbed a second pint glass for his overflowing tip money. And all the while, he stole as many glances at you as he could while he worked. 

When Penny eventually walked behind him, patted him on the shoulder and said there was less than an hour left of the event, she also shared a smile with you. But there was no hope. The other guys were already working on their third tip cups each. "I don't think I can make up the deficit," he groaned, pulling up the hem of his shirt and wiping his brow with it. 

"Oh, that's a great idea," you mused, leaning across the bar and pulling his shirt up higher. "Take it off."

He stared at you as you tugged on the fabric. "Take it off?"

You nodded, the moevent exaggerated as you said, "Absolutely. Take your shirt off." As he looked around awkwardly before pulling his shirt over his head, you cupped your hands around your mouth once again and said, "He has six pack abs!"

Now the guys were glaring at him. "So do I!" Reuben complained.

"Don't you dare take your shirt off!" his wife told him, pointing at him in warning. 

Bradley knew his cheeks were flushed, and all he really wanted to do was talk to you and hopefully kiss you. And he really wanted to do all of that with his shirt on, because he felt a bit like a stripper now as you reached for a third tip cup. The cash was filling it up quickly, and he smirked as he thought about Reuben, Jake or Javy in their underwear instead of him. And it was all for a charity after all. 

"Make him use the shaker!" you urged a woman who looked like she was in her seventies and holding a crisp fifty dollar bill. "Make him flex."

Bradley groaned your name which sent you into a fit of laughter, your second empty shot glass still in front of you. "This isn't right," he complained half heartedly as he shook the older woman's Mai Tai with flexed abs and biceps. 

"It is so right," you told him, and he appreciated that you were scoping out the other guys' tip cups instead of looking at him right now. "Keep going. It's going to be so close." And then that fifty ended up in Bradley's cup when he handed over the cocktail, and you said, "Or maybe not!"

"Last call for the fundraiser!" Penny shouted over the crowd, and Bradley almost sighed in relief when the last few people ordered beers and a glass of wine. And then it was all over, and he had a huge amount of cash in front of him along with you. But he didn't care about the tips as much as he did getting to finally talk to you. The fundraiser was technically over, and you were looking at him the same way he was looking at you.

When he took a breath to suggest you and he go for a walk, he felt a hand on his bare back. It was one of the young bartenders who was helping out, and she said, "I can count up your tips for you," with a smile.

"Nope," you said, reaching for his cups yourself and shooting her a glare. "I'll do his. You go help Coyote." You didn't move again until her hand slipped off of his back and she walked away, and then you looked at Bradley and asked, "What are you going to do for me if you win?"

He watched as you quickly sorted the bills into efficient piles as he pulled his shirt back on and leaned against the bar. It had quieted down significantly, and now Penny was taking a few drink orders while everyone else seemed to move to the tables. He felt like he had a moment of privacy with you as he said, "I guess that depends. Apparently you moved away, Sweetheart."

"I did," you confirmed with a smirk as you counted up his twenties. 

"But you came back tonight."

You rolled your eyes, still smiling as you moved to the pile of tens. "I'm not too far away. I took a full time job and moved to Del Mar. The guys told me I needed to be here tonight for a special surprise. They said something I had been missing was returning. So I came down."

Bradley's fingers flexed on the edge of the bartop. "They did?"

You looked a little vulnerable as you stacked the bills in one pile and said, "Eight hundred and seventy one dollars." 

He nodded once and pushed the money aside without really looking at it. "You'd been missing something, Sweetheart?" he pressed gently, heart pounding in his chest. 

You bit your lip as your eyes drifted closed when he rubbed his thumb across your cheek. "I guess I must have asked the guys one time too many if they knew when you'd be back from your deployment."

"Oh," he rasped as you looked at him again. "You missed me?"

"Yes," you whispered. "I was going to ask you out, but then you were just gone. And they told me you were deployed, and I thought I really missed my chance. And I didn't even know if you were single or not, so I-"

Bradley had heard enough, so he kissed you. Just a soft press of his lips to yours, but you practically crawled onto the bar to get closer to him. And it was better than he spent the last five months imagining it might be. He could taste the vodka and lime on your tongue as it met his. Your fingers gently combed through his hair again, and he moaned, "I missed you too, Sweetheart."

Your laughter was soft and sweet as your nose brushed against his, and then he jerked back a few inches as Reuben shouted. "Yo, Rooster! There's time for that later, man! How much tip money did you make?"

"Eight hundred and seventy one," you replied as your fingers trailed down his scarred cheek to rub his mustache before you pecked him on the lips. The three guys groaned in unison, and Bradley watched your face light up in a beautiful smile. 

"This is not why we told you that you had to come tonight!" Jake whined, pointing at you and pouting. "You were supposed to distract him, not help him win! He was just supposed to turn into a bumbling mess and admit he has feelings for you!"

You turned away from Jake, and you asked Bradley, "So, do you have feelings for me?"

He huffed out a laugh before he hopped up to sit on the bar, swung his long legs over to the other side and hopped down again. You jumped from your stool and into his arms when he said, "I thought about you the whole time I was away, Sweetheart. I wanted to ask you out in the summer, but I didn't think it was right to hope you'd wait almost half a year for me to be stateside. For us to be together again."

"Bradley," you moaned. His hands found your hips just like earlier, and this time he pulled you snug against him while your fingers teased through his hair. "If a guy is worth waiting for, then I'd wait forever."

He kissed you again, tasting and nipping the lips that he'd dreamed about. Inhaling all of your sweetness that his mind didn't do justice to when he'd been away. Feeling your smile against his lips for the first time.

"Let me ask you again," you said, pausing between kisses. "Since I clearly helped you win the bet, what are you going to do for me?"

"Anything you want," he said immediately as you started to push him toward the door with a grin. 

"How about we go for a long drive? And we can talk about how the next time you're deployed, your girlfriend will be waiting patiently for you to return?"

Bradley scooped you up, sending you into a fit of laughter as he carried you directly to his Bronco.

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

Bradley was exhausted on Monday to the point where the travel mug of coffee you sent him with did nothing to keep him from yawning out on the tarmac at 8:00. But every yawn ended with him smiling as he thought about how perfect the weekend had been. In the very early hours of Sunday morning, you'd agreed to be his girlfriend. And now he was waiting for the cherry on top of it all.

He didn't have to wait long as he stood between Reuben and Javy, the three of them looking nearly identical in their matching flight suits and boots, standing at attention in front of Maverick. Then Jake came strolling out, and Bradley instantly started laughing. 

Maverick turned, took one look at Hangman in his boxer shorts and combat boots and said, "I don't even want to know what's going on here, I just want five hundred push ups."

Jake's eyes looked like they were going to bug out of his face as everyone else tried their best to hold in their laughter. Bradley took his phone out as discreetly as he could and snapped a picture of Jake panicking on the tarmac before he dropped down onto the ground and started on his punishment. 

"Everyone else to your jets," Mav barked, and Bradley didn't stick around to hear him say it again. Instead he texted you the photo of Jake along with a short message.

Couldn't have pulled it off without your help, Sweetheart.

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

The way I would die of this man just casually started calling me his Sweetheart. I love that he swept the guys to win the bet! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

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[calif0rnia-lovers]

safe place.

an: ngl, I wanted to hug jude & bukayo through the screen when England lost😔

requested: I remember seeing that Jude said his mom helps him when he gets "too low with the lows or too high with the highs." Can you do a fic where his gf is that way?

pairing: jude bellingham x black!reader

series: lyrically inspired tales.

if my heart aches, you breathe with me at my pace.

song: safe place by ruthanne

warnings: this is most definitely not edited lol.

The stadium lights had dimmed, and the roar of the crowd had faded into a distant memory, replaced by a haunting silence. Jude Bellingham sat in the quiet of his hotel room, the weight of the Euro final's loss pressing heavily on his shoulders. Exhaustion seeped into his bones—physically, mentally, and emotionally he was tapped. The missed shot that could have changed everything replayed in his mind, a tormenting loop of what-ifs and if-onlys.

He felt utterly drained, each breath a reminder of the effort he had poured into the match. The worst part about losing was feeling like he was at his lowest, despite all the hard work and dedication he had poured in for his country. The memory of the silver medal being draped over his shoulder, the relentless flashes of cameras, and the disappointed faces of fans loomed over him like a dark cloud. He had tried to keep his head up, stopping to hug each of his teammates, whispering words of encouragement, but it still hurt like hell. He had forced a brave face, stifling the sting in his eyes, reassuring his family and friends that he was alright. Keeping up the front until he reached his room had been a monumental task, and now, alone in the dim light, the facade crumbled.

He stared blankly at the wall, the ache of disappointment settling deep within his chest. Hours seemed to drag by, each minute stretching into an eternity. His phone was on Do Not Disturb. Although he knew the messages were meant with the best intentions, Jude wasn’t ready to read the encouraging texts sent to him. He hadn't spoken to anyone since the bus doors closed, needing space to process the defeat alone. The team’s efforts, the dreams of a nation, all seemed to hang on that one moment when his shot had veered just slightly off course.

A knock at the door broke through his reverie. Jude ignored it at first, unwilling to face anyone. If he didn’t call out, whoever it was would go away. But then it came again. 

A single knock, followed by three softer knocks, a distinct rhythm that was all too familiar. It was a special knock. Your special knock, a signal that meant more than words ever could. It prompted him to rise from the bed and cross the room.

Your interaction at the stadium was still a blur. A rushed kiss against his lips, nose, and forehead, a whispered “I love you so much,” was all he could receive before he was moving through the line of friends and family. In the few short hours that had passed, you had showered and changed.

When he opened the door, Jude found you standing there with your travel backpack pressed against your chest.

Jude paused to take you in, grounding himself by focusing on your familiar features. It was a routine he had built over the last six months of your relationship, a way to find solace in the midst of chaos. His eyes passed over your smooth, deep brown skin, which seemed to glow softly in the dim light. He traced the contours of your face, from your cheekbones to your lips that carried a gentle, reassuring smile. The sight of it relaxed the furrow of his brow.

Your eyes, warm and filled with understanding, were his favorite feature. They held a depth of emotion and wisdom that made him feel seen and understood. Your lashes framed them perfectly, long and curled, adding to the natural beauty that always took his breath away. His gaze traveled up to the soft curls, pineappled at the top of your head, his hand instinctively reaching forward.

As he studied you, taking in every detail—his touch tracing the curve of your jaw before settling against your cheek—he felt a sense of peace wash over him.

"Hi," you greeted softly, your voice a balm to his battered spirit.

Jude managed a weak smile, the corners of his lips lifting. "Hey," he replied, his voice rough.

You stepped inside, Jude’s hand instinctively settling on your hips as the door closed.

The scent of lavender and chamomile wafted from the bag you carried, filling the room with a calming aroma. It was a scent that lingered on the sheets of each hotel room Jude stayed in, his bedroom at home, and even in his shirts and jerseys. He associated it with you, and only you—a fragrance that instantly brought relaxation and comfort. Whenever you couldn't make it to his games, Jude would find the aromatherapy tucked away in his bag, a thoughtful gesture that made him feel close to you even when apart.

“My flight leaves at 9:30 tomorrow,” you began as you unzipped the bag. Gathering what you needed, you started towards the bathroom. “So, I’ll probably leave here at 7. I’m sure traffic is going to be insane.”

Jude listened to your voice, the calm cadence soothing his frayed nerves. You didn’t expect a response; you knew him well enough to understand that after a loss, he needed time to recover. So, you verbally went through your travel plans. The turnaround was quick, but you needed to report to work. While slightly annoying, the plan was simple: report home, get back to work, and into your routine. Jude would soon follow.

As you focused on starting the bath, Jude began to look through the items you bought. His hand paused on something small and familiar, tucked beneath his favorite snacks—a stuffed lion. He picked it up, a wave of bittersweet memories washing over him. The lion had a soft, golden mane and big, friendly eyes. Stitched into the pad of its right paw was a heart. Jude remembered the day he won it for you at the Ice Palace, the way your face had lit up with joy, your smile so wide and genuine it had made his heart swell.

"My lion," you’d giggled, hugging the plush toy tightly before wrapping your arms around his neck, your laughter ringing in his ears. “I can keep him with me when you’re away.”

You paused in the bathroom doorway, watching him hold the stuffed lion. "That always makes me feel better when we're apart," you said softly, a smile finding your lips as the shared memory hung between the two of you.

You began to take out and explain the things you had brought to cheer him up—a selection of his favorite snacks, your iPad full of movies, and some comforting toiletries. "I brought these because I thought they might help you relax. And I know how much you love Shawshank Redemption. So...being the gracious, loving girlfriend I am, I will sit through it for the hundredth time. But, only if you promise to share your sour st-"

You were mid-sentence when he moved towards you, wrapping his arms around your middle from behind. For a moment, you stayed that way, the warmth of his embrace speaking louder than words. Jude buried his face in your shoulder, his breath hitching as he tried to hold back the tears that threatened to escape.

You could feel the tremors in his body, his grip tightening as if you were his anchor in the storm of his emotions.

"It's okay," you whispered, turning to face him, the warmth of your palms against his cheeks lifting his eyes to yours. "You gave it everything you had, and that's all anyone can ask for. I'm so proud of you, Jude. You’ve come so far, and this is just a moment in your journey. It's okay to feel hurt and disappointed, but remember that you are stronger than this. Everything happens exactly when it's meant to."

Finally, the dam broke, and Jude rested against you, the tears he’d managed to keep at bay all night came pouring out. He remained pressed against you until the stress of the past few months drained his eyes dry. He allowed you to lead him to the bathroom, welcoming the warm, fragrant steam filled the room, creating a cocoon of comfort. 

He allowed you to help him undress, your movements tender and deliberate, as if you were peeling away not just his clothes but also the layers of his hurt.

"Let's get you in," you murmured softly, as his lips brushed against yours, guiding him into the tub. Jude eased himself into the warm water, letting out a deep sigh as the heat began to soothe his aching muscles and weary mind.

You stepped back to gather the other things you had brought, but Jude's hand gently traced soothing circles into your thigh as you stood by the tub. The simple touch spoke volumes, a silent plea for your presence, for you to stay close.

Jude leaned his head back, closing his eyes as he let the warmth of the bath wash over him. The exhaustion and frustration that had gripped him began to loosen, replaced by a growing sense of peace. He listened as you moved around the room, lighting a few candles and setting out the items you had brought—a fluffy towel, his favorite shampoo, and a soft robe for when he got out. 

You joined Jude in the tub, settling behind him. He welcomed the loofah against his skin, the gentle, rhythmic motion of your hands soothing his frayed nerves. You massaged his shoulders, careful with the one that had been previously injured, as he rested back against you. His hand found its place on his leg, grounding him as he watched the movie playing on the tablet propped nearby.

Your touch worked magic, and you could feel his body gradually relaxing. The tension that had coiled within him slowly unwound, and he seemed to be coming back to himself. The voice in his head, the one that echoed with doubt and personal criticism, grew quieter with each passing moment. Each gentle kiss you pressed against his skin, each laugh you shared from the film, chipped away at the walls of his frustration.

By the time most of the bubbles had dissipated, Jude was completely relaxed. His gratefulness showed in the way he gently squeezed your thigh and the soft kisses he brushed against your knuckles. The warmth of the water, combined with your presence, created a cocoon of comfort and safety. 

He tilted his head back slightly, letting it rest against your shoulder, eyes half-closed in contentment. "I don't know what I'd do without you," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

You smiled, fingers tracing small circles on his chest. "You don’t have to," you replied softly. "I’m here, always."

Jude sighed, a deep, contented breath that seemed to release the last of his lingering tension. He turned his head slightly to kiss your forehead, a silent thank you for being his anchor in the storm. The doubts that had plagued him earlier were now a distant memory.

The kiss he left against your lips was soft, almost sloppy. The physical and mental strain he's been under from Real Madrid and the Euros suddenly registering. His body begging for sleep.

"Let's get you outta here," you giggled. "I don't think I can carry you to bed if you fall asleep."

You press against the corner of his mouth, the action stopping the closing of his heavy eyelids. "Come on, Jude."

"Mmm...hold up..." Jude mumbled, eyes drifting shut as your lips brushed against his. Brow arching, his smirk prompting your eyes to roll. "...I'm not even tired."

"Uh-huh," stifling your giggle, you watch as Jude nods. His heavy eyes blinking before dropping down to your smile.

"'m not," he mumbled, his kiss missing your lips and settling on your chin.

A series of soft and light kiss lingered against your jaw, drifting to your shoulder. As much as he tried to fight off the comfortable sleeping tugging at him, Jude couldn't resist. By the time he reached your lips, a tired and goofy smile stretched across Jude's lips.

"Alright," he relented. "Let's go, but we gonna finish this in the morning."

"I'm sure we will," you smiled.

You place a final kiss against his lips. The brushing of your nose against his pulling out the smile that left you the victim of constant butterflies and euphoria. Before Jude knew it, the words slipped out.

"I love you," he murmured, the words hanging in the air between you like a delicate promise. "Thanks for this."

The words halted your movement of slipping from beneath him, your eyes widening slightly in surprise. It was the first time he had said it aloud. You had never pressured him for those words, knowing that he showed his love in countless other ways. Just as you did for him.

"I love you too, Jude," you replied as his lips found your forehead.

Letting his lips pass over your nose, Jude pushed himself.

[charlieleclerc16]

Lost and Found*

Summary: Charles and Y/N have been best friends since they were little kids but they lost track of each other over time. When Charles is in town for his home race they finally reunite and their meeting is sweeter than ever.

Pairing: Bestie!Charles x You

Word count: 4.4K

Warnings: Smut, fluff, cute. There might be some unprotected action in there, I'm sorry.

It's been a very long time since you last saw your best friend. It has been years, which is a shame, but there were reasons. The biggest reason was that he was travelling all over the world for the World Drivers' Championship, and that caused his schedule to be incredibly full. There is also the fact that, because he is rarely home to begin with, you don’t get many chances to see him.

Charles always tries to keep in touch, even with the crazy life he leads. But that might mean only brief texts and the occasional phone call. Sometimes not even those. The last time you heard from him was six months ago when he called to ask how your family was doing. He sounded so tired but excited. You talked for an hour, and it was almost like the last years hadn't happened.

With the new season starting up and him being back on the road, you decided to contact Pascale and see if she could get you in for the Monaco GP. This is an amazing opportunity for you to finally see your best friend and to surprise him with your presence.

The excitement about race day has been building up inside of you ever since you decided to do this. You know you can't expect much attention from Charles after the race, but you're looking forward to seeing him and getting to see him drive. You haven't seen him in person in two years.

You take a shower and then put on the black top and red high-waisted jeans that you have planned to wear to the grid, gotta support Ferrari. When you get into the kitchen, you realise that you are too nervous and excited to eat, so you settle for a banana. You check the time and are happy to notice that you still have some time left to spare, so you go into the living room and switch on the television.

There are no good shows on, so you switch to the music channels and find one that is showing a rerun of an interview Charles did a couple of years ago. The whole country, how small it may be, always turns into full mayhem when it’s raceweek. You smile as you watch him talk. Even after all these years, it's still the same Charlie. He's still your Charlie. You feel a pang in your heart when he smiles his cheeky grin at the interviewer, and you realise just how much you miss him.

As if reading your mind, your phone vibrates on the coffee table. You reach for it and see Charles' caller ID on the screen. You pick up and bring the phone to your ear.

"Charles?"

"Hi, baby!" He sounds excited. "Did I call at a good time? Are you busy?"

"No, I'm not. I was just watching TV." She decides to not tell him that she is going to see him in a couple of hours.

"Oh, what are you watching?"

"Um, an interview. It's not important. What are you doing? Shouldn't you be getting ready for the race?"

"I have a free half hour, and I'm hiding, so nobody can find me. I really needed to talk to you, and I couldn't wait anymore."

"Why did you need to talk to me? Is something wrong?"

"No, it's nothing like that. You're coming to the track today, aren't you?"

Your eyes grow wide and your stomach somersaults. How did he know? Did his mother give something away?

"How...how did you know?" You finally manage to say.

"I'm not stupid, Y/N. I know how you talk when you're nervous and when you're not. When I talked to you about my home race last week, your voice didn't sound like usual. You sounded nervous, and it was pretty obvious that you were going." He laughs on the phone.

"Wow, I'm not very subtle, am I?" You feel stupid.

"You really aren't." His voice sounds warm and inviting, and you feel a shiver running down your spine.

"So, why did you want to call me, if it wasn't to tell me not to come?"

"Oh, I would never tell you not to come. I really want you to be there today."

"But… Don’t you have a very busy schedule? You probably won't even have time to see me."

"Don't worry, baby. I will definitely see you. If I don't, you should find the backstage area and tell them to let you in. I already told the security team your name. They'll let you in."

"Really? Charles, you're crazy. You have a race to prepare for. You shouldn't let random fans into your private space."

"But you're not a random fan. You're Y/N."

"I'm glad that you still think of me like that, even though we haven't seen each other in a while."

"What do you mean?" Charles sounds confused. "Of course, I still think of you as my best friend. Nothing can change that."

You feel a lump forming in your throat. You don't want to cry, not now. Charles means the world to you, and he will never know. You are not the kind of girl who confesses her love to crushes, not even when they are her best friends.

"Y/N, are you still there?"

"Yeah, I'm still here. I was just thinking about something."

"Well, stop thinking. We're going to see each other in a couple of hours." He is smiling; you can hear it in his voice.

***

When you enter the city centre, the excitement inside of you is unbearable. The atmosphere is incredible, and the streets are so crowded and so full of life and happiness. Everyone is happy to be here, and so are you.

You find your way to the Paddock Club, which thankfully Pascale got you an access pass to because you would’ve never been able to afford this. As you wait for the race to start, you keep looking around trying to find familiar faces and wondering what Charles is doing right now.

The sun was shining brilliantly over Monte Carlo, its rays dancing off the azure waters of the Mediterranean as one of the most anticipated events of the year, the Monaco Grand Prix, is about to begin. Your heart is racing almost as fast as the cars that would soon tear through the narrow, winding streets.

Charles was starting from P1. Your Charles, the pride of Monaco. His Ferrari sat poised and ready, a crimson beast waiting to be unleashed. As you watch the big screen showing the last preparations for the race, you can’t help but feel a swell of emotion. You are already so proud of him.

Soon the camera pans over the cars lined up at the starting line showing the drivers walking to their vehicles. He climbs into the car, and the mechanics begin their final checks. The roar of the engines filled the air, a symphony of power and precision. The grid is set, and the lights above the starting line begin their countdown.

Red. Red. Red. Green.

The cars surge forward, a blur of colour and sound. Charles holds his position, deftly navigating the treacherous streets with the skill and grace of a dancer. Every corner, every straight, he is in perfect harmony with his car.

From the paddock, you watch every moment with bated breath. Your fingers are crossed, your heart lodged in your throat. Lap after lap, he maintains his lead, his driving a masterclass of control and speed. The crowds roar, the tension palpable as the race unfolds.

As the laps dwindle down, you find yourself almost unable to watch. He is so close, so close to his biggest dream. The pit stops have gone flawlessly, the strategy executed to perfection. But Monaco was a track where anything can happen, and the slightest mistake can spell disaster.

Then, with a grace that seems almost effortless, Charles navigates the final corner and speeds down the straight towards the finish line. The checkered flag waves and the crowd erupts into a frenzy. He has done it. He won the Monaco Grand Prix.

Tears of joy stream down your face as you watch him cross the finish line, arms raised in triumph. The team explodes into celebration around you, but all you can see is Charles. He climbs out of the car, drenched in sweat and triumph, and your eyes meet across the chaos.

His gaze pierces through you, sending a shiver down your spine. And then, he smiles. That dazzling smile that has captured the hearts of millions. And in that moment, you know that your heart belongs to him, forever.

***

It's been hours since the race ended. After all the interviews, the podium, the celebration, Charles was finally able to get some free time for himself. His eyes are roaming the room, looking for a familiar face, but he can't find you anywhere. Maybe you left without saying goodbye. He feels disappointed. He wanted to see you and to hug you.

The door opens and someone enters the room. Charles doesn't bother to look up. He is too busy feeling sorry for himself. But then your voice is what catches his attention. "Hi, stranger."

He looks up, and there you are, standing in the doorway. He is not dreaming. You are here, in Monaco, and he has just won the race. Life couldn't get any better than this.

"Hi, Y/N." He stands up and walks towards you.

You are speechless. Seeing him winning the race made you so emotional that you had tears in your eyes. Now, standing in front of him, all those feelings come rushing back. "Congratulations on your win. I'm so proud of you." You say as he pulls you in a tight hug. His strong arms wrap around you, pulling you close. You close your eyes and breathe him in, his familiar scent surrounding you.

"Thank you. I'm so happy that you're here." His voice is muffled against your hair.

You pull back slightly, looking up into his warm, brown eyes. There is something in the way he is looking at you that makes your heart race. You have never felt more alive, more connected, than in this moment. You feel as if he can see into your very soul, and the intensity of his gaze takes your breath away.

"Me too." You say softly, your voice barely a whisper. He leans in closer, his lips just a breath away from yours. Your heart is hammering in your chest, and you feel a shiver run down your spine. You close your eyes and allow yourself to fall into the moment.

Just as you're about to kiss him, he pulls back with a chuckle as if he only now realises that you are in a room full of people. You look around and see his family and the Ferrari employees as well as the security guards who are probably watching the two of you like hawks.

"I'm sorry. I didn't realise..." He begins, his cheeks flushed.

"It's okay." You say, taking a step back and running a hand through your hair. "I didn't realise either."

The room falls silent, and you can't help but wonder if everyone heard your exchange. You feel your face flush, and you turn away, avoiding Charles' gaze.

"We should go somewhere more private." He whispers in your ear, making you blush. You nod and follow him out of the room. The security guards let the two of you pass, and Charles leads you down a quiet hallway. You follow him in silence, your mind racing. You can't believe what just happened.

When you reach a secluded area, Charles turns to face you, a sheepish grin on his face. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable back there."

"You didn't. I just...I was surprised."

"Good surprised or bad surprised?" He looks nervous, and it makes you smile.

"Good surprised. Very good."

"I'm glad." He reaches out and takes your hand, his fingers intertwining with yours as you continue to make your way outside. "I've missed you so much, Y/N."

You smile up at him, feeling your heart swell with emotion. "I've missed you too, Charlie. More than you can imagine."

As you step out into the warm Monaco air, you can't help but think how lucky you are to be here, with him. He is the best friend anyone could ever have, and you feel honoured that he considers you his best friend. You squeeze his hand, and he squeezes yours in return. You know that, whatever happens next, you will always have each other.

Charles brings the two of you to a halt next to where his bicycle is stalled. "I totally forgot I came here by bike." He says, shaking his head. "Do you wanna come with me, or do you prefer to take a taxi?"

"No, no. I'll come with you." You don't want to spend a single minute away from him.

He smiles at you and nods. He climbs on the bike and motions for you to sit on the top tube as his bike doesn't have a rear rack. You hop on the top tube and wrap your arms around his handlebar for balance. "Jesus Christ, this feels dangerous."

"Just trust me." He says, a twinkle in his eye as he closes his arms around you to grab a hold of the handlebars.

"You sure we'll both fit on the bike?" You ask nervously.

"Of course, we'll fit. Come on." He starts pedalling and soon the two of you are zipping through the streets of Monaco, the sun setting in the distance.

You lean against him, feeling the warmth of his body, and you close your eyes. For the first time in years, you feel completely and utterly content. As the two of you ride through the streets of Monaco, his arms basically wrapped around you, you can't help but think that this is what happiness feels like.

"Charlie, where are we going?"

"Home." He says it so casually as if it's obvious that you belong there too.

You stay silent for the rest of the journey. You just want to enjoy the moment, savour the feeling of his body against yours. When you finally arrive at his apartment, the sun has almost disappeared from the horizon, leaving behind a pink and orange sky.

"Here we are." Charles says as he helps you off the bike. You can't help but notice how his hand lingers on yours, the contact sending a shiver down your spine. After a brief loss of contact to lock his bike, his fingers intertwine with yours and he guides you inside the apartment complex.

The elevator ride is silent, but it's not awkward. It's a comfortable silence, the kind you only share with your best friend. When the elevator doors open, Charles leads you down the hallway to his apartment, his hand still holding yours.

When he unlocks the door and ushers you inside, the first thing you notice is how big the apartment is. It's luxurious, just like he is, and you can't help but be a little jealous. He leads you into the kitchen, which is modern and well-equipped. "Make yourself at home. Do you want something to drink?"

"Just some water, please." You say, your mouth suddenly dry. He nods and busies himself at the sink. You take the opportunity to look around, taking in the sleek furniture and artwork adorning the walls.

When Charles returns with the glass of water, he can't help but notice the awe on your face. "What is it?"

"It's just...this place is so fancy. It's amazing."

He smiles, clearly pleased with your reaction. "Well, I'm glad you like it. Maybe I could give you a tour later."

"That would be great." You can't hide the excitement in your voice. You take the glass of water from him and sip it slowly, trying to calm your racing heart.

Charles walks over to the living room and you follow him like a lost puppy. It's when your eyes fall on the black grand piano that you gasp. "Wow, you have a grand piano!"

He turns around, a grin on his face. "Yeah, I love to play the piano. It's a good way to relax after a long day."

"Can you play me something?" You ask, unable to hide your excitement.

"Sure. What do you want me to play?"

"Anything. Surprise me." You say, smiling at him.

He walks over to the piano and sits down on the stool before he pats the empty space beside him. "Come, sit next to me."

You make your way over to him and sit down, feeling a little nervous. He begins to play, his fingers dancing across the keys. The melody is beautiful and melancholic, and it sends a shiver down your spine. You're completely mesmerised by him, by the way his fingers move so gracefully, by the look of concentration on his face.

As the music swells around you, you feel a sense of calmness washing over you. This is what you've been missing, what you've needed all this time. You lean your head on his shoulder and close your eyes, allowing yourself to get lost in the music.

"What is this song called?" You ask, your eyes still closed.

"I don't know." He whispers. "I made it up."

"You're so talented, Charles." You say, unable to hide the admiration in your voice.

He turns his head slightly and his lips brush against your forehead. "Thank you."

You open your eyes and look at him, the emotion in his eyes mirroring your own. You can't help but feel as if the world has stopped spinning and that it's only the two of you in the universe, in this moment.

He leans closer, his lips ghosting over yours. "Y/N, can I kiss you?"

You nod, unable to speak, and he closes the distance between you. The world around you fades into nothingness as his lips brush against yours. It's soft at first, tentative as if testing the waters of this new, uncharted territory. The kiss deepens, becoming more passionate, more urgent. His hands move to your waist, pulling you closer, and you respond in kind, your fingers tangling in his hair.

The taste of him is intoxicating, a blend of familiarity and excitement. You can feel the years of friendship and unspoken longing in every touch, every movement. It's as if the floodgates have finally opened, and all the emotions you had both kept hidden come rushing out.

When you finally pull away, both of you are breathless, your foreheads rest against each other’s. The room is silent except for the sound of your rapid breathing and the faint echo of the last note Charles had played.

"That was..." You begin, searching for the right word.

"Yeah." Charles smiles, a blush rising to his cheeks. "That was incredible."

You laugh softly, leaning into him and resting your head on his shoulder. He wraps his arm around your waist and holds you close, the warmth of his body soothing you. You sit there in silence for a while, enjoying the feeling of being close to each other.

"Hey, are you tired?" he asks.

"No, just relaxed."

"Okay. Well, I have a question for you."

"Ask away."

"Why didn't you ever tell me?"

"Tell you what?"

"That you love me."

Your eyes fly open, and your heart stops. He is looking at you, his expression serious. You swallow hard and try to think of an answer. But your brain doesn't cooperate, and you can't speak.

"W-what are you talking about?" You stutter.

"I'm talking about the fact that you are in love with me."

"No, I'm not. Why would you think that?"

"Because it's obvious."

"Oh."

"You look shocked whenever I flirt with you and after that so happy. It's the same look I have when I'm thinking about you." You can't believe what he is saying. Does he really mean it? Or is he just playing with your emotions? "Why didn't you ever tell me? Because of my job?"

"No, it's not that. I just...I didn't want to ruin our friendship. You're the most important person in my life, and I didn't want to lose you."

"Oh, baby. You will never lose me."

"Promise?"

"Promise." 

He cups your face with his hands and leans in again. Your eyes flutter closed, and his lips touch yours. The kiss is slow and gentle. His lips are soft and taste like mint. You feel a tingle in your stomach, and you can't help but sigh. His tongue darts out and caresses your lips. You open your mouth, and he slips his tongue inside. Your tongues tangle together, and the kiss becomes more passionate. When you finally pull apart again, you are breathing heavily. He smiles and strokes your cheek.

"You are so beautiful, Y/N. You know that, right?"

"Charles..."

"No, it's true. And you deserve to be told how beautiful you are every day."

"Oh, Charles."

He pulls you into his arms and kisses your temple. You lean against his chest and breathe in his scent. It feels so right to be here with him. After all these years, you finally feel like you belong.

"What are you thinking about?" He asks.

"About the fact that I don't wanna go home."

"Who said you have to?"

"What do you mean?"

"Stay with me tonight."

"Really?"

"Yes. Stay the night. I don't want you to leave."

"Okay."

He stands up and takes your hand. You follow him down the hallway and into his bedroom before he sits you down on the bed. He sits down next to you and strokes your cheek. You look into his eyes and see the same desire that you feel. You lean in and kiss him. His lips are warm and soft, and his tongue feels amazing. Your body is tingling, and you can't get enough. You wrap your arms around his neck and deepen the kiss. He pulls you closer and kisses you passionately. Your bodies are pressed together, and you can feel his arousal. You moan and rub your body against his. He breaks the kiss and looks at you. His eyes are dark with lust, and his pupils are dilated.

"Mhm, Y/N. You're driving me crazy." He pulls you into his lap and kisses you again. His hands roam your body, and you arch your back. He slips his hand under your shirt and cups your breast. You gasp and close your eyes. He squeezes your breast and rolls your nipple between his fingers.

"Oh God." You moan.

"Do you like that?"

"Yes. It feels so good."

He keeps massaging your breasts while kissing your neck. You grind your hips against him, and he groans. You can feel his erection, and it turns you on even more. He moves his hand to your other breast and starts massaging it.

He pushes you onto the bed and gets on top of you. His hands move under your shirt, and he pulls it off. You arch your back and expose your breasts. He licks his lips and leans down to kiss your nipples. He sucks on one and flicks his tongue over the other. You moan and dig your nails into his back.

He moves his hand down to your pants and starts undoing the button. He pulls them down, along with your panties, and tosses them aside. He looks at your naked body and smiles.

"You're so beautiful."

He leans down and kisses you. His tongue darts out, and he runs it over your lips. You part your lips and let him inside. He explores your mouth and moans.

"Mhm, I want you."

"Then take me." You say.

He pulls his shirt off and throws it aside. He undoes his pants and pushes them down. He kneels between your legs and looks at you. You can see his erection through his boxers. You bite your lip and reach out. You run your hand over his bulge and feel the heat. He groans and closes his eyes.

"Y/N."

"Yes?"

"I want you so bad."

"Then take me."

He quickly pulls his boxers down before he grabs your hips and pushes you further onto the bed. He lies down on top of you and kisses you. His erection rubs against your core, making you gasp.

"God, you're so wet." He moves his hand between your legs and strokes your clit. You moan and buck your hips. He positions his cock at your entrance and pushes in. You gasp and close your eyes. His cock fills you up completely, and you feel complete.

He starts moving slowly, and you cling to him. He kisses you deeply and groans. He moves faster, and you cry out. You wrap your legs around his waist and arch your back.

"Yes, Charles. Right there. Please."

He pounds into you harder, and you feel yourself approaching the edge. You never had sex that felt this right.

"I'm gonna come."

"Come for me, baby."

You scream his name and climax. Your body trembles, and you shudder. He moans and buries his face in your neck. You feel his release, and he collapses on top of you.

"God, Y/N. That was amazing."

"It was."

He rolls off of you and pulls you into his arms. You snuggle against his chest, and he kisses your forehead.

"So, this is where we've been heading since day one, huh?" You chuckle.

"Well, yeah. I just didn't expect it to take twenty years."

"Yeah, me neither."

"And I also thought we'd be more cautious about it." Charles laughs realising he completely forgot to use a condom.

"I don't know, I just didn't care."

"Yeah, me neither."

You kiss his cheek and rest your head on his chest.

"Charles?"

"Hm?"

"Will we be able to make this work? I mean, with our lives and everything?"

"We'll figure it out. I'm not letting you go."

"Good."

You close your eyes and listen to his heartbeat. He is holding you tight, and you can't imagine being anywhere else. You kiss his chest and slowly drift off to sleep in his arms.

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

Hiiiii I was wondering if you can do a breeding kink and if you can, can you pls do a fic where Izzy and a female reader try having a kid thanks!!!

Warnings: Smut, breeding kink, overstimulation, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

IDK WHERE THIS PHOTO CAME FROM BUT FUCKKKKKAJSJSJDISJJDKSJS

Izzy was the best husband you could ask for, always so attentive and showering you with love. When you told him you'd been thinking about kids one night in bed you hadn't expected to see such a fire in his eyes.

He was hesitant, kids were a big responsibility and all. It all changed after your first baby making session.

After that his mind was made up, any chance he got he was on you. Making breakfast? He's right behind you, mumbling something about filling you up until your nice and pregnant. He wouldn't leave you alone until he'd cum inside you at least three times, overstimulating both you and himself.

You didn't have a moment of peace unless he was sleeping or out of the house, and you were fine with that.

You were brushing your teeth just before bed and he came in, eyes filled with exhaustion after dealing with Guns and a soft smile playing on his lips.

He wrapped his arms around your waist and kissed your neck. "Hi, beautiful." He mumbled against your skin, hands already moving to push your short down.

You didn't stop him and just finished brushing your teeth. "My legs still hurt from this morning." You said, smiling back at him. He shrugged, rubbing your bare ass.

"Gotta make it stick." You chuckled at his comment and left the bathroom, leaving your short and panties behind. "Seriously, just walk around naked forever." He mused, following close behind you.

You crawled into bed, stretching out and cracking your joints. "Just be gentle, I'm sore." Izzy crawled over you, maneuvering between your legs, already stripped.

"Of course." He gleamed, pressing a few kisses to your neck and down your shoulder. "Baby mama's gonna be sore for a few months, gotta get used to being gentle."

He held your hips in a firm hold and pushed into your wet folds, a low groan leaving him. He went slow, pulling almost all the way out before pushing back in, angling his thrusts perfectly.

"Mmh~ Faster." You hummed, pushing your ass into him.

He grinned, giving your hip a gently squeeze. "Whatever you want, love." His thrusts increased in speed, moans spilled out of you.

You clutched your pillow tight, squeezing it as you felt yourself getting closer to your high. "Fuck, Izzy." You breathed.

"I know, just let it happen, sweetheart." Your body melted into the mattress, legs shaking as you came around him. Izzy lowered himself, still rutting into you and you felt his cum hitting your walls. "Fuck, you feel so good."

He started moving faster, a quiet hiss leaving him as his dick was getting sensitive.

He through being gentle out the window, sitting back and fucking his cum into you deeper, the sight of you sucking him in driving him crazy. He kept you in mind, always asking if it was too much, if he was hurting you, making sure you felt good to.

Your mind was gone, between being tired and Izzy's cock you couldn't think straight no matter how hard you tried.

How many times you'd cum you weren't sure, how many times Izzy had cum was anyone's guess, but he wasn't done. He was clinging to you, sobs racking his body but he couldn't bring himself to stop.

There was no way he'd be the one to stop, he needed to know you were nice and pregnant, swollen with his seed, even if that meant fucking himself dumb as well.

"Izzy," you mumbled, tugging on his hair gently, "it's sleep time."

He peaked up at you, glassy eyes and trembling lips. "Yeah..?" He asked, his thrusts slowing down. You nodded, eyes closing as his movements stopped and he let himself collapse on top of you.

You groaned and he let out a weak laugh as he rolled off of you, keeping you close and not pulling out. His arms wrapped around you, hands resting on your stomach. "Can't wait to hold your big belly." You smiled at him over your shoulder before letting your gaze fall and quickly falling asleep watching his hands rub your stomach.

You were awoken the next morning, Izzy still stuffed deep inside you and fucking you again. "Morning, sweetheart." He gleamed, a new energy flooded through him now that he was well rested. "I got the day off.

[bluestar22x]

Boo!

Summary: You buy a mansion on the cheap having no idea it's haunted by the previous owner's friend

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x F!Reader

Rating: 18+ (mature readers only)

Word Count: 5,900(ish)

Warnings: "Enemies" to lovers vibes (they annoy each other at first), recreational drug use mentioned, medical stuff, subtitle mentions of sex/yearning, ghost Dieter follows you around the house but isn't a total creep about it - he's just really bored and invisible, AU?, foul language, fluff

Author’s Note: This was created for Jamie's Halloween Writing Challenge by @mermaidgirl30 - I already had the idea of writing ghost Dieter before this challenge, so I thought it was the perfect time to write it up. The theme I chose is "haunted mansion" for obvious reasons. I was slightly inspired by a movie some may or may not know.

xxx

You had bought the mansion on the cheap - hardly a million dollars despite the huge, modern layout.

Just outside of New Orleans, the mansion was only one of three you owned as an unusually successful author. One of the few that had gotten rich off of making a crime novel series that had later become a successful drama show that was still running after five years - a true feat in modern entertainment.

Your other two mansions were in Los Angeles and Denver, the first being your main home when working and the second being a winter holiday escape, a place where you could go and experience what winter was supposed to be like. You had grown up in Maine, and it hadn't taken you long after moving to Los Angeles to miss the changing of the seasons, even if you didn't quite miss the often dreary weather.

This mansion in Louisiana was supposed to be another escape, one close to a city with rich history and lore. Spooky lore, that was. You were thinking about writing a vampire series - what better place to inspire you than New Orleans?

Though you'd moved there specifically for the stories of monsters in the dark, you avoided the creepy mansions listed on the realtor sites like a plague. Just cause you were interested in writing it, didn't mean you wanted to live a horror-themed novel.

Your mansion was boring compared to the centuries old mansions and plantations nearby and far from any swampland. It was also only ten years old - a baby mansion that had little chance of having been able to attract attention from any supernatural beings.

Not that you really believed in them, but you were the type not to press your luck. Every time you had in the past, you'd paid for it.

However, the universe had to have been against you, as it often was, because after only one week in your new vacation home strange things started happening.

It began with misplaced items, something easy to dismiss when you were still unpacking and organizing the place. You'd set down a mug of coffee on the countertop and find it on the bar later on or, to your dismay, the living room end table without a drink coaster underneath it. You'd throw a fresh shirt on the bed and enter the bathroom to take a shower and find the shirt on the floor when you returned. You'd place the manuscripts on your desk in a neat pile and find them disorganized the next morning. Things like that.

Then after a month more concerning things started happening. You'd lock a door and find it unlocked minutes later. You'd hear heavy footsteps on the second floor when you were in the kitchen or living room downstairs and you knew no one else was in the house. You'd see doors creak open on their own when they hadn't done that before.

Suddenly the cream colored modern mansion felt unsafe despite the high tech alarm system being in full working order and having never gone off.

You took to listening to music almost constantly, attempting to block out the feeling of unease you felt when everything was quiet. What you thought was your irrational side screamed at you to leave, to sell the place and go hang out at your Denver mansion or return to your main home, but your stubborn, so called rational side balked at the idea. You didn't want to admit defeat against a haunting you were pretty sure was all in your head or had explanations that were not of the supernatural kind.

Then one morning, the day before Halloween, you wandered downstairs to find a strange man sitting at your bar, dressed in ripped blue jeans, a dark tan oxford shirt, and a pair of tan slip on sneakers. You also had time to note that he had a graying patchy beard, sunglasses, and a single gold loop earring attached to his left ear before the fear set in and you screamed.

There was a complete stranger in your house! An interloper! Whatever his reason for being in your kitchen was, it had to be no good.

"Holy shit, you're loud!" he snapped, jumping in his seat. "Why are you freaking out so early in the morning?"

He turned to face you and his jaw dropped when he realized you were starring directly at him. "Wait, can you fucking see me?"

"Of course I can fucking see you," you spat. "You're in the middle of my kitchen, seated at my bar. Get the fuck out before I call the police!"

The man rubbed at his temple, his head pounding, which was really unfair, he thought, considering his situation. "Lady, if I could, I would, you are the saddest company I've ever kept, but unfortunately I have no say in the matter. I was here before you and I can't leave. Believe me, I've tried."

"Clearly you haven't tried enough," you hissed, pointing an index finger at the front door. "Try again."

He sighed and rolled his eyes dramatically, though you couldn't see the latter action behind his shades. "Fine, if you insist."

He pushed himself away from the bar, sliding off the stool he'd been seated on, and headed for the door. He opened it and glanced back at you, finding that you'd trailed him with a glass vase in your hand.

At least you were a resourceful recluse.

He braced himself for the sensation of being catapulted back into the mansion and sure enough, as soon as he stepped through the threshold he felt whatever force that was keeping him inside push him back.

He landed on the tile floor several feet away from the door in the mess of his long limbs. "Oof."

"What the fuck?!" He heard you yelp and he groaned.

"Told you."

"What the hell was that?"

He stood up slowly and massaged his lower back. "That was what's keeping me from leaving, sunshine. Now that you've seen why I can't go, I'll let you guess how this situation began."

"A voodoo priest cursed you to eternity in here?" you guessed, purposely trying to come up with what you thought would be a ridiculous answer. You still were trying to recover from what you'd just witnessed. People didn't just get thrown by invisible forces, yet there was no realistic explanation for what you'd just seen.

"I wish," the man huffed. "But it's not a curse. Not as far as I'm aware. Well, maybe. Maybe some god thought it would be funny. But I'm pretty damn sure it wasn't a person who did this. I don't remember much, but the last thing I do remember before this was partying with a friend, breaking my one year drug sobriety with a dose of some pretty fine cocaine, and then waking up splayed out in the middle of the living room - a very empty living room. By the time I worked through my denial over what had happened to me, you had moved in."

"You overdosed?" you questioned, breath catching because that would mean...

"Yeah, that's what I figured," he replied. "I'm not one hundred percent sure about it. Usually I was always careful about that. But it's not like I hadn't overdosed before." He put his hand out - "Long story." - And sighed heavily. "All I know is I'm dead."

You covered your mouth in shock as you pieced it all together. "You are the one that was moving things, making noises. Did you do that on purpose?"

"What? To scare you?" He looked amused. "I wish I was that clever. Maybe I'd have better company by now. But that was just me trying to keep my sanity. You don't know how maddening it is to wander around a boring mansion all day unable to interact with anything, not even a damn spoon. I'm not good with isolation. Glad the practice paid off."

You walked into the living room and collapsed into your leather couch. "This can't be happening."

He took off his sunglasses as he followed you in and you met his dark but surprising soft eyes for a moment. "What's your name, anyways?"

He placed a hand over his chest and acted shocked, a little stung by your lack of familiarity with him. You could tell he was just being dramatic and didn't really care. "You don't know? Hint: I was an actor who was having a great Hollywood comeback when I died."

Your mind was blank. You didn't know a lot of actors by name, or by face for that matter. You didn't watch a lot of TV and movies, your preferred entertainment being reading. Your office walls were covered by filled bookshelves.

You shrugged at him.

"Dieter Bravo," he told you. "My name is Dieter Bravo. Almost everyone I know calls me Dee though."

"Do I know you now?" you inquired.

"Hardly," he snorted. "But I know you enough, unfortunately, no offense."

You rolled your eyes at him, annoyed. "You can't insult me then claim no offense. I'm gonna take offense. Especially since we've never even talked before now."

"Sorry," Dieter apologized half-heartedly. "I've just been going crazy and all you do is sit at your desk writing or read on the couch. And you seem to prefer it that way."

"Introverts do, yes," you said. "But I can be fun when I want to be. I'm going on a tour of the city tomorrow."

You didn't mention that you were going alone. You hadn't made any friends in the city yet. That always took you a while. Something that most actors probably had little trouble doing. People begged for their friendship or more, didn't they?

"Is it one of those ghost tours?" he asked. "Cause that would be ironic."

You held your tongue and kept your comment about him having used the word ironic wrongly to yourself. You were pretty sure that was something someone boring would point out. You weren't sure why you cared about what a dead addicted actor thought about you, but you did for some stupid reason. Probably because his untamed curly hair looked very tuggable and his jeans were tight in all the right places and you hadn't been laid since your last book tour. Handsome guys were your weakness. You weren't usually into jerks or addicts though. Losers, as far as you were concerned.

Instead, you let your mind wander to all those times you'd heard things moving around while you were undressed or in bed. "Please tell me you haven't been stalking me this entire time."

"Stalking is a strong word," he protested. "We're in the same house for hours on end. We have silently interacted, or rather been in the same room. And I might have been watching you, but only when you were dressed, cross my heart."

"That's comforting," you said sarcastically, but you believed him. No one with so much disdain towards your daily activities would have bothered to peep on you, would they? But he could be the type who didn't care if a girl had personality, as long as she had boobs, right?

You decided it was not worth the trouble thinking about. Not when you had no idea how to get him to move on, or at least get him out of your mansion.

"So, what unfinished business is keeping you here?" you inquired. "Last I heard that's the only way either of us is going to get some peace in the forseeable future."

"Ouch. Fair."

"Do you know?"

Dieter shook his head. "What unfinished business don't I have? My latest movie will never finish filming, my girlfriend broke up with me over the damn phone on my way here, I have no idea if Perry overdosed too or if he's still alive, and my family all hate me."

"Surely not," you said. "They just didn't know how to help you with your addictions anymore."

Dieter blinked at you. "I thought you didn't know anything about me?"

"I don't," you replied. "But I've had a couple relatives, not close ones, but still, they got addicted to painkillers and they wouldn't let the family help them, so my family got angry at them and gave up trying. You can't help those who don't want to be saved is how my mother put it."

"What if they wanted to be saved but didn't know how to accept help?"

The vulnerable question, seemingly uncharacteristic, threw you off. You stared at him and Dieter glanced away. "Just asking," he muttered.

"I don't know," you told him honestly. "Same applies. It can't be one sided. They would've had to find a way to accept it. But they didn't. And they've been buried six feet under for five years now."

Dieter nodded.

"I don't think I could help you with your family issues," you continued on. "But I can tell you Perry is alive, if he is the same Perry who owned this place as I assume. He sold me the mansion three months ago, a month before I moved in."

"That's good," he said, scratching at his neck. "I knew from your calendar and your phone that it has been six months since I died, but I didn't know if he was still alive. I can't remember him ever coming back. Maybe he did and I just wasn't...aware at the moment. Time is different now for me. And I think ghosts actually sleep too. Kinda."

"The realtor showed me this place," you told him. "Perry only showed up to finalize the paperwork at her office. Maybe it was too painful for him to come back?"

Dieter pursed his lips. "Maybe."

"Did that help?" you asked hopefully. "See any doors or light to go into?"

He barked out a laugh. "If only! But there's nothing. Guess we're not getting rid of each other that easily." There was a gleam in his eyes that suggested he wasn't as annoyed about it as he was before. It was actually playful.

"Too bad," you stated, smirking.

He chuckled. "At least we can talk now."

"That we can, so long as you promise not to keep watching me like an invisible creep while I sleep," you said.

"I do not."

"I've felt it," you hissed.

"It's hard to look away," he admitted. "You do know you drool, right?"

"Shut up."

x

After your first run in with Dieter you didn't see him for a few days, and you wondered if he'd finally moved on, but of course, no such luck.

You choked on dinner when he popped up next to you at the dining room table on the fourth day.

"Sorry, didn't mean to almost kill you," he said humorously, patting your back.

You felt nothing when he did it. Maybe a cold breeze, but nothing really notable.

"Where've you been?" you inquired once you'd recovered.

"No idea," Dieter answered. "I think showing myself to you all afternoon zapped all my 'spirit' energy. What day is it?"

"November three."

"Damn. Oh well."

"You going to use your newfound 'spirit energy' to find a way to move on?"

He pouted. "Said like I wasn't trying to do that before. And jeez, in a rush, are we?"

You huffed. Like he'd given you a reason not to want it fast. It would be way better for you both once he found peace.

"Aren't you?"

"Of course I am!" he shouted before pointing a finger at you. "But I'm not leaving before I give you this advice: don't wear jeans on the night of your death. You may think they're comfy, but they're not. Not after weeks, months in them. I miss my pajamas. My robe."

He sighed wistfully and you couldn't help but chuckle at him. "Alright, advice taken."

He whirled and phased back into invisibility, leaving you alone until the next morning, when he nearly made you choke on your breakfast.

x

Days turned into weeks like this, with Dieter spending minimal time with you as he made attempts to figure out what he needed to do to be free of the mansion, as he tried to make peace with the things that haunted him in hopes that resolving his unfinished business would open the beyond up to him, but slowly, the more hope he lost, the more time he spent with you.

It started with meals, watching you eat and participating in discourse that became less and less hesitant and hostile over time, turning into shockingly friendly debates and banter.

It turned out Dieter wasn't so bad to be around and he wasn't the loser you'd thought he was, or had been. One search of his wikipedia page and a few youtube videos had settled that for you. He had worked hard to gain his success, spending nearly a decade taking guest star role after guest star role, working in a bar when the roles and his money dried up. And when he did find a major role to catapult his career, he continued to take as many roles as he could.

He was known for partying hard on weekends, but he never showed up for work high.

He enjoyed comfy clothes on his time off, and especially loved wearing his light green robe, sometimes even going to his local coffee shop in it, but he cleaned up well for interviews and other important functions.

Dieter had a good reputation despite his addictions. It seemed like his fellow cast members always had nice things to say about him, even those who worked with him on the disastrous set of Cliff Beasts 6, which was apparently where he'd had his first overdose.

By Thanksgiving you were solid friends, and after you left for the holiday to visit your parents and home in LA, you returned with a souvenir for you both - a fridge magnet with a picture of the city buildings just beyond the Hollywood sign. You'd noticed Dieter seemed homesick and you sometimes felt it too. But you wouldn't leave New Orleans until Dieter figured out how to move on or until you were forced to. The magnet gave you a daily reminder of what it looked like.

As Christmas neared, Dieter began hanging out with you in the living room at night, watching whatever you were watching, which were mostly Christmas movies in December. He did it even when you watched Hallmark, though he'd roll his eyes and make sarcastic comments about the plot throughout those.

"They always fight and break up over an assumption," he rattled on more times than you could count. "Dumb ones at that. His jealous ex flaunts her a ring and says it is from him and the leading lady just bolts without asking him if it's true? And they said I needed therapy."

"You needed therapy."

"Well, not as bad as that bird."

Dieter couldn't leave the house to get you a Christmas gift, and you'd agreed you both would spend Christmas Eve, the night before your parents arrived to celebrate the holiday, just curled up on the couch together as usual, but that hadn't stopped him from giving you something anyway.

He'd thrown a box at you, unwrapped and told you to look inside and you'd found a beautiful charcoal drawing of you writing away at your desk inside. The sight of it made your breath catch.

"You did this yourself?" you questioned, stunned.

"Yeah," he replied. "It took a lot of energy out of me, but I got it done in a few days. I know we said no gifts, but I wanted to give you something anyway. You know, since I can't pay rent."

He'd expected you to laugh at the comment but you were too busy studying the image. He'd gotten every detail, right down to your blemishes. He'd put a lot of care into drawing you. It felt...reverent.

When you tilted your head up to look at him, you did it differently. You saw him in a new light. And though he was in the same jeans and shirt as he always was, you thought he looked particularly handsome in that moment, chocolate eyes hopeful.

"So, do you like it?" he asked nervously.

"I love it," you assured him. "But I...didn't get anything for you."

"It's okay," he said, "Free rent."

"You are the least messy roommate I've ever had," you told him. "But you've got to stop sneaking up on me and making the rooms cold."

"The temperature is out of my hands," Dieter said, shrugging. "Unless you want me to turn up the thermostat. I've mastered turning dials."

You smiled. "I'm good tonight."

x

You should've known better than to get drunk alone on New Year's Eve, but you did.

No, you weren't alone, alone, but you were the only one drinking since Dieter was not physically able to drink. And he should've been the last person you'd hang out with drunk.

Being drunk made you silly, made you excitable, and it also made you bold.

One minute you and Dieter were laughing loudly, and the next you were leaning towards him. "Can I tell you something?"

"Sure. Anything."

You leaned in closer and lowered your voice, "It really sucks you are dead, Dee. It sucks because I really wish we could kiss right now."

Dieter stared at you, dumbfounded, but the shock quickly turned into glee. "We could still, you know."

"You've gotten good at making yourself more solid," you said, "But I can't feel you whenever you touch me, Dee. I don't notice it unless I see you doing it. That's the only way I know. By sight."

"Well, you've never focused on it before, have you?" he inquired. "It always takes me a lot of focus to hold anything, even a pen, for long, but I do."

"It may not seem that way, me being a writer, but I'm terrible at focusing," you admitted.

Dieter brushed your cheek compulsively and you smiled weakly at him.

"Can we try something out?" he asked.

"What'd you have in mind?"

He nodded at the couch. "Turn off the lights and lay down on your back and close your eyes."

You raised your eyebrows questioningly, and he flashed you a reassuring smile. "Trust me."

You did as ordered and Dieter took a moment to take your prone form in, peering through the darkness, and he noticed how your fingers were twitching due to your inability to ever keep perfectly still.

He couldn't believe he was finally going to kiss you. Two months ago he wouldn't have wanted to. He'd had bigger concerns, and you weren't his usual type.

But with time and forced proximity he'd grown to enjoy your company. You were smart, generous, surprisingly witty, and he'd always found you pretty.

He doubted he deserved you, he was certain you were better than him, but you wanted him to kiss you, and lately he'd wanted that too. He couldn't deny you.

He approached the couch and sat down next to you, leaning over you so his face hovered above yours.

"Try to clear your mind."

You nodded and did as told, doing your best to keep all thoughts at bay while your heart thudded in anticipation against your rib cage.

Then you felt his lips on yours. They weren't warm or cold, soft or chapped, and they didn't taste like anything, but you could feel the pressure of them. You could feel when he moved his lips, when he deepened the kiss, when his hand reached out to cradle your face.

You reached up for him automatically, your eyes still shut, and you could feel his strong neck under your hands, could feel the tips of his curls at the base of it.

There was something electric about the moment, and you moaned softly as you let the sensation consume you. The more you got lost in it, the more kissing Dieter felt real.

It was sobering.

You gently pushed him away and opened your eyes to find him gazing back into yours, a confused look on his face. "What's wrong?"

You shook your head as tears flooded your eyes. "I can't, Dee. I can't do this with you. You're dead."

"Pretty sure we just did," he said, wiggling his brows suggestively. "And if we can do that, imagine what else we might be able to do with time."

"I can't," you repeated. "Someday you will move on and I'll be alone again."

"I'll wait to move on only after you die," he declared. "Problem solved."

You shook your head again, harder. "That's unfair for us both and you know it. I don't want to spend my life keeping you a secret, and you don't want to stay cooped up in this house for another four or more decades. You'll go mad."

"Not with you here," he swore, his hand gliding down to squeeze your upper arm.

"I can't take that chance," you said, standing up. "I'm sorry."

You began to walk away, but in the archway to the hall you turned to face him again.

"You should keep looking for your way out," you told him. "Make it your priority again. Cause next week I'm headed back to LA. I've got a book that's going to hit shelves in three weeks and my editor wants to plan some last minute fan meet ups for when it does. I can't stay here while we're doing that."

You tried to avoid looking at Dieter's face but you still got a glimpse of the hurt on it.

He was so upset he didn't say anything to you back, and you told yourself silently that it was easier that way.

You climbed the stairs, quickly curled up in bed under your sheets, and tried to think about anything but him until you fell asleep.

You had no idea that when you woke up in the morning, he'd be gone.

x

Steady beeping was the first thing Dieter registered when he gained consciousness in the hospital, but it was far from the least pleasant thing about the experience. That had gone to the bright lights briefly, then to the uncomfortable feeling of his feeding tube that was pulled through one of his nostrils.

Dieter would never call waking up from his coma fun. It had been confusing and exhausting (he thought that was ironic) and he’d been sore from not moving for a long time, but at least that discomfort felt short compared to what came after.

He'd been in a coma for nearly a year and that had taken a toll on his body, along with the seizure that had caused him to go into it in the first place, a side effect of his long term use of hard drugs.

He had most of his mind right from the start, but his body was weak and had loss some of the connections he'd made as a child to do simple functions like walking and eating with a fork. Frustratingly, he'd had to learn it all back again.

His only solstice was that his parents were there every step of the way. They'd had him transferred to LA after he woke up and had regularly visited him in the hospital and Dieter kinda wished he'd heard them while he was taking his long sleep. What had they said to him?

Probably what they'd been saying since. His parents rarely missed a chance to tell him they loved him, that they regretted letting his addictions come between them.

"It was my fault," he'd told them, but they'd shaken their heads.

"We didn't go about finding you help like we should've. We gave up too fast."

Dieter didn't care about that though. He was just grateful to have them back in his life. To still have a life at all.

He didn't remember the fateful night that had led to his coma, but he was able to video chat with Perry on his laptop and his friend filled in the blanks.

They'd gotten together and Perry had given him all the cocaine he could ask for. They'd gotten comfortable on the couch and rode out their highs talking about the trouble they used to get into in high school. Then he had began seizing sometime after midnight and Perry had dialed 911.

Even with the fill in, Dieter felt he was missing something. Something important. But any time he tried to recall his night with Perry, he got nothing.

He had dreams though, often several times a week, of him patrolling Perry's mansion alone, of an attractive woman chatting away with him at the dining room table, of him kissing her in the shadows of the night, and those felt like the missing pieces, lost memories, but they couldn't be. He couldn't have been a ghost while he was in the coma, he reasoned.

But all the reasoning in the world wouldn't allow him to shake it off. Eventually he caved and asked Perry, who was visiting him after getting out of rehab, to describe the woman who had bought the mansion from him.

When he gave every detail he could think of, Dieter was flabbergasted.

The woman Perry had detailed sounded exactly like the woman in his dreams...

But it couldn't be, could it?

He decided there was only one way to find out.

As soon as he was back to full strength, he'd fly out to New Orleans and knock on your door.

He'd find out once and for all if any of it had been real.

x

He didn't mean to go to New Orleans on Halloween, but that's how it ended up - with him on an early flight to one of the spookiest cities in the world on the arguably spookiest day of the year.

He took a taxi to get to your house and hesitantly made his way to the front door.

How should he go about telling you he had dreams about you? To ask if you knew him when he was in his coma and was a ghost? What if it had really all been in his head?

There were several carved orange pumpkins on the front porch - jack o' lanterns - something he didn't remember you having last year, and they immediately sent him into a spiral of deep uncertainty.

She can't be her, he thought. She didn't decorate for Halloween last year.

It was kind of ridiculous to assume that just because you hadn't had Halloween decorations one year you wouldn't have them the next, but that was how much he was doubting himself.

He took a moment to beat down his nerves on your doorstep, shake it off, then knocked, not knowing if you'd hear it or if you were even on the same side of the house. Not knowing if you were home at all.

You were both shocked when you opened the door and found yourselves staring at each other.

How could it be? You'd assumed Dieter had moved on well over half a year ago, and yet there he was before you, looking very much alive and in a fresh pair of black jeans and an olive green button down shirt that was basically his tan shirt's twin.

"Holy shit, I didn't think you were actually real!" Dieter exclaimed.

"Are you?" you inquired. "Last I knew you were dead. What the fuck?"

He guffawed and you marveled at the way the skin around his eyes crinkled, at how they shined with life. His hair was more gray than you remembered, but it only added to how alive he looked.

"It turns out I wasn't actually dead," he explained. "I was in a coma. I woke up in a hospital bed back in January and found out I'd been unconscious for several months. I didn't overdose, but I'd had seizures from the cocaine I took. I had no idea that could be a side effect. The doctors said it was a miracle I survived, let alone had a full recovery."

You stepped outside with him. "And you've stayed clean?"

He huffed. "Of fuckin' course. I'm not a complete idiot. I'm not going through that shit again. Physical therapy was a bigger pain in my ass than any of the cravings could ever be."

You laughed briefly before your expression turned serious again. "That's good."

"I wanted to see you sooner," he told you, scratching at his cheek over the beard he still had, though it was more neatly trimmed than it had been the last time you'd seen him. "But I wanted to be fully recovered before I flew back out here, and for part of that time I didn't remember being here. Not even the night me and Perry hung out in the living room."

You folded your arms, nodded, and pursed your lips. "So how much do you remember now?"

You tried to keep your expectations low but there was a knife stabbing at your heart when you realized that he might not be able to recall much of you at all. Did he even remember your kiss?

Dieter smiled. "I remember us not getting off on the right foot, and maybe scaring you on purpose a few times."

You gaped at him. "I KNEW it!"

He grinned slyly and continued, "I remember how we used to talk a lot, and how that would drain my energy right out, but I'd always linger a little too long, until I had no choice but to slip into the darkness to rest for a while. I remember loving your sarcastic sense of humor and the way you lose your breath when you laugh too hard. And I...remember that night, when we kissed."

That had been something else. Unexpectedly titillating. It was by far the sharpest memory he had of that time he'd spent between worlds.

"I don't know if you remember it, but I regretted every day since that I said what I said that night," you told him, chewing your lip.

He nodded. "I remember. But you weren't wrong. You deserve to be with someone breathing, and I was really getting sick of being stuck in the house."

You chuckled but the sound was cut short when you felt him palm your cheek.

He was sooo warm. Real.

Your stomach fluttered when your eyes met.

"I thought I'd never get to say goodbye," you whispered. "All I wanted after I woke up to an empty house was to get that chance. But this, this is so much better."

"I missed you," Dieter admitted, drawing closer to you.

You beamed at him and he felt his chest warm.

"I missed you too."

He pulled you into a kiss, far more passionate than the first you'd shared, and you gripped onto his elbows tightly, fiercely clinging to him, almost afraid to let go.

When you eventually did, you smirked at him. "You're a day late for our anniversary, you know."

"First meetings do not count," he claimed.

"Oh yes they do," you countered.

"Well, excuse me for fuckin' forgetting to fly out yesterday. Pretty sure I still have some brain damage."

You huffed playfully. "Excuses."

Dieter shook his head at you fondly and kissed you again.

xxx

Tagged: @harriedandharassed

xxx

Main Masterlist

xxx

[mrsbarnesblog]

sandcastles

masterlist ko-fi ao3

CEO! Husband! Bucky Barnes x Wife! Reader

Summary: Bucky is always working overtime, but when his best girls really need him, he leaves everything behind just to make you happy.

Words count: 1.6k

Warnings: modern setting, CEO Bucky, they have a daughter, fluff, real love

Author’s note: this one was inspired by Sebastian’s appearance in Paris. he really gave me a heart attack with that look❤️‍🔥

Bucky Barnes was a busy man. Running a multi-million-dollar company wasn’t the easiest thing, but something that he cared more about than this job was his family. His beautiful wife and daughter.

You always loved and appreciated the attention, support, and endless love that your husband gave, even when you just started dating eight years ago. As soon as you met, it took some time for both of you to finally admit your feelings, but when you got together, it was perfect. You’ve never felt that way in your life before. When you were younger, everyone told you that you wouldn’t be able to find a person because of your high standards, but when you started dating James Buchanan Barnes, you knew that it was forever.

A beautiful, respectful, and caring man who would do anything for you.

For the past two months, he has been more distant. His company was getting bigger; he had too many meetings, and too many new things required his whole attention. You understood it; of course you did. But you would be lying if you said that you didn’t miss him. Your daughter felt it too. She was totally daddy’s girl, so being away from him for too long upset her, even though she was trying to be tough and careless, just like her dad when he was working.

You talked to her about her dad’s work, and she was a smart girl for a 3-year-old. She understood that he has a lot to do right now and that he still loves her more than anything in this world.

Today he returned home only after 2 am., you heard that he went to take a shower in a different room, probably not to wake you up. But you were too eager to spend as much time with him as possible, even if it was when he was falling asleep.

Bucky came into the room quietly. As soon as he got under the blanket, his warm and strong arms wrapped around you. He pulled you closer to him, burying his nose into your neck.

"I’m sorry, doll. Again." He took a deep breath, enjoying your scent, which he missed so much. "I love you."

"That’s okay, baby." You moved even closer to him, burying your fingers into his wet hair, and left a kiss on his temple. "I love you too. Now take some rest."

You hadn't even started to fall asleep when you heard a weird noise outside your bedroom, and then the door slightly opened.

"Daddy? Mommy?" A little voice came through the silence of the room. "Are you asleep?" Your daughter suddenly sobbed, and you and Bucky immediately sat on the bed, reaching for the nightstand lamps.

"Hey, angel, what happened? Come here." Bucky’s voice was very soft and gentle, as always when he talked to your daughter. She came closer to the bed, and Bucky picked her up, putting her on his lap. She was tightly holding her favorite white wolf, which you gifted Bucky as a joke because of his nickname at work. Your daughter's eyes were a little bit red, her hair messy, and her cheeks wet with tears. You moved closer to them, gently rubbing her face.

"What’s going on? You saw a bad dream?" You quietly asked, but she just shook her head.

"I— I—" She was obviously too upset to put her words together, so Bucky started to rub her back, whispering a quiet "sh-h".

"I— miss you, daddy." As soon as these words left her mouth, you and Bucky froze, and she started crying even harder. "I don’t s-see you, and me and mom—mommy are always alone."

Bucky looked you in the eyes, and you saw that his own were full of tears. The last thing he wanted to do was upset either of you. He felt that his heart was ripping apart. You made your daughter cry, you idiot. Your wife deserves better.

You just put your hand on his shoulder and squeezed, already knowing where his mind went. He always wanted to give his family everything, and the fact that he put work above his two favorite people in the world made him sick.

"Angel, hey, baby, look at me." Bucky turned back to your daughter, grabbing her little face with his hands and gently wiping away her tears. "I promise that the day after tomorrow we will go somewhere. Only mommy, you, and me, okay?"

"But—but you’re working."

"I know, angel. But I didn't want to make you feel lonely or to stay away for too long from your mom." He grabbed your hand and brought it to his mouth to leave a kiss. "We will go wherever you want to. Maybe stay there for the week. You would like that?" He smiled at your daughter, and she happily giggled, wrapping herself around Bucky’s neck. "I love you. Both of you. You two are my whole life, and I'll do anything to make you happy."

You softly smiled at him, leaning in to leave a quick kiss on his lips.

Your daughter put away her white wolf and opened her other arm, wanting you to join her and Bucky in a hug.

That night she stayed in your bed because she almost passed out in Bucky’s arms but still held onto you both too tightly. The three of you happily curled under the blanket, with your daughter in between. Bucky knew that it was time for him to finally make the right decision. To choose his family.

As Bucky promised, one day later your little family was on a vacation where no one could disturb you. He left Steve, Sam, and Natasha, his closest and oldest friends, in charge of everything, canceled all the meetings, and took you and your daughter on the private jet that brought you here. One of the most beautiful places you’ve ever been.

It was quiet. No strangers, no annoying noise, no worries. Just the three of you on the beach with a perfect little house and warm, crystal-clear water.

You were wearing a light flowy dress, and Bucky, finally free from those annoying suits, chose trousers with a white tank top and shirt on top of it.

You two were sitting under the sunset on a blanket with food and a bottle of wine, while your daughter was playing near the water with sand. It was such an amazing evening; just everything was perfect, and as you were watching your smiling husband, you felt that you had fallen in love once again.

"You keep staring at me, doll, You ‘kay?" He finally turned his face to you, and you couldn't hold your wide smile, which he immediately returned.

"I’m okay. It’s just… everything is perfect here—the beach, the house, you two here." You covered your eyes with your hand because of the setting sun. "You know, you’ve been here for a couple of hours, but you look much better. Your skin is glowing, you’re happy, and, god, that hair bun looks really hot." Bucky’s smile grew wilder because of your words.

He grabbed you in bridal style and set you across his lap, wrapping his hands around your waist. You slightly screamed, not being ready for such movements, but then happily melted into your husband's touch.

"So you think that I look hot?" A cheesy grin crossed his face, and you playfully rolled your eyes.

"Do you think I would’ve married you if I thought otherwise, James?" You arched an eyebrow at him. Your hands found the perfect place under Bucky’s blue shirt by themselves. God, it's been too long since you spent good time together alone.

"What do you think about the idea that when we get home, we send our daughter to visit her amazing grandparents, so we could be completely alone for a couple of days?" He said it as if he was reading your mind, so you just silently nodded. "Doll, you’re too beautiful for this damn world; I can’t even understand how I was able to be far away from you for that long. I missed you so much, baby." Bucky’s hands slipped lower on your hips, while his lips were leaving sweet kisses on the side of your neck.

"Not here, Buck; we’re not alone, remember?" You nodded back at your daughter, who was honestly more interested in building sandcastles.

"Of course. Just wanted to say that I’m so sorry for my absence. I got so involved in work that I didn’t even notice that you too were hurt. I’ve never wanted to do that. I’m sorry. And I love you. So fucking much." Bucky connected your foreheads and put his right hand on your cheek.

"Don’t be sorry. I know that you want better for us and that you want to do everything right. It’s okay to make mistakes sometimes. You know, you are such a great dad because your daughter’s tears made you leave everything and spend time with us. And I’m forever thankful for this." You smiled, holding his stubbled face in your hands. "I love you, James."

You two connected with a kiss. It wasn’t too rough or desperate. It was just pure love and adoration for one another. Bucky was slowly moving his lips, feeling the need for your taste, your smell, and your touch. Your little bubble didn’t last too long, though, not after your daughter finally wanted your attention.

"Mommy! Daddy!" You pulled away from the kiss, looking back at your daughter, who was now all in the sand. "Do you want to help me build a castle?"

You looked at Bucky, who had the same smile on his face.

"Of course, angel. What do you need from us?"

[harryxmarvel]

Can you do an angst piece where they have a 3 year old and everything has been really crazy but H is spending the most of his time working and not helping y/n? Bonus points if an ex girlfriend comes back into the picture

Expect

Summary : Harry prioritised work over his family

Pairing : famous!Harry x reader!y/n

Warning : but of angst, fluff , none of the personalities of the characters are real. Purely fictional!

A/n : not really an angsty piece tbh but hope you like it :)

My masterlist

Taking care of a three year old while being 5 months pregnant is not an easy task and while y/n had been down playing it as no hard work to everyone asking her ,it was bad. With a popstar husband busy writing the album of the year he seems to have neglected his family and was yet to realise it.

Although y/n was working from home she missed dressing up and going out and enjoying the weather or having her favourite ice cream in the park. But the most she missed was her husband who was working late yet again he couldn't join them for dinner. Their little baby daughter asking for her father before her bedtime for a kiss but how could y/n explain to a three year old that he was working, he was so busy to take some time to spend with his family.

It made her think back to the time when they decided to have a kid and Harry promised to always be there for them but now y/n was worried. Sure he always came back but she needed him here. She needed him when her morning sickness left her tired, she needed him to help her around the house and most of all she needed him to take care of Avery and her even for just a minute.

Her swollen ankles and the bump making it hard for her to do things in their house but Harry had no idea as he climbs into bed at 4 in the morning apologizing for waking her up and by the time y/n wakes up to prepare Avery's breakfast and lunch he was already long gone.

Y/n doesn't even remember the last time they had an actual conversation face to face. He sends texts every now and then to check up on them but that was it.

Y/n was in the shower, she swore off baths since she couldn't get up on her own and had a wave of mood swings had hit her so she had called crying to Harry to come help her up. It was a fond memory now they laugh about. She hears the bathroom door open sending her in high alert as to who it could be. No one has the key or the passcode to the front door except Harry but he was at the studio so who could it be?

She silently peeks through the shower curtain to find Harry with an apologetic look on his face. "Hey, what are you doing here?" Y/n asks suddenly very aware of the fact she was naked with how Harry was eating her with his eyes. The water droplets and pregnancy glow was making Harry crazy enough he was half hard but he gulps it down stammering as he speaks "wow, you are glowing baby." He says eyes running all over her body. And y/n blushes because truth was with how busy he was they hadn't had sex in weeks and Harry loved to love on her when she was pregnant knowing she has some doubts about her body changing. "I just ......I didn't know, I'm sorry. We were just there to celebrate and she just -" Harry stops mid sentence at the confused look on y/n's face as she wraps herself in a towel.

"H, what are you talking about?" She asks getting out of the shower with harry helping and walks towards their closet grabbing a pair of underwear and Harry's shirt as she takes a seat on the bed.

He looks guilty as he murmurs something trying to get away from this situation but he perks up when he sees her questioning look"Kendall...." Was all he had to say for y/n to realise he had messed up big time.

Kendall was obsessed with Harry and she was Harry's last ex-girlfriend before he found his soulmate. Y/n had nothing against her untill Kendall decided to ruin their life by constantly showing up on their dates making both of them uncomfortable. Kendall even turned her whole mass of fans against y/n when she found out they were engaged. She had been trying to sabotage their relationship from the start and against all odds y/n and Harry were truly happy and tried to deal with the situations calmly. But y/n was human too she was jealous when some other woman's hands lingered a bit long for her liking or the eyes on him as he works out or goes out for a walk but she never complained about it and accepted that this was who he was. The was a celebrity and people were always going to be curious about him and his life which she was a huge part of.

But to know he was out partying all night celebrating a song they completed with Kendall of all people broke her poor tired heart. She sits in silence as Harry looks distressed waiting for her response. Y/n never raised her voice. Even with Avery she was firm but her voice never raised so he was a bit taken aback when he hears her "How long are you going to keep doing this Harry?" She had asked anger evident in her tone.

Harry had told everything that happened how Kendall was stuck beside him all night and got really drunk enough to try to kiss him which he thankfully dodged but the pictures on the internet looks like they were kissing but Harry promised y/n that didn't happen.

"Why do you keep letting her mess up our lives? How long do I have to act like it doesn't faze me? I know you wouldn't cheat but I don't trust her. We had this conversation years ago H and you keep doing this again and again it's so hard for me to believe she just keeps coming back after so many rejections from you." With doubt in her voice y/n avoids his eyes, hers filled with tears.

"no baby, I would never do anything to intentionally hurt you. Kendall is nothing to me. You know I try to avoid her as much as possible" he says firmly making his point but that wasn't the biggest problem.

"It's not just that...." Y/n had been wanting to talk to him about his distance but with how unavailable he was they hadn't had a proper conversation in days.

"What is it?" Harry asks with worry.

"I get it, I really do. I get that people expect from you. I know you are working hard to provide for us but you are getting too involved to even spend time with us Harry. It feels like you don't care about us anymore. Of every person who expects from you, as your family don't we have the right to just expect you to be here for us?" Y/n questions her eyes meeting his stunned ones as he swallows the new information.

His heart beating rapidly as y/n doesn't wait for his reply as she walks out of their shared bedroom.

Harry stands still in his spot, seconds pass....minutes pass as y/n's words keep echoing in his mind and he sees it . How he had been neglecting his family. Harry is left with guilt as he thinks about how he hadn't been present at all to help y/n. He didn't even know her cravings or how the last ultrasound was. He didn't know if their baby was healthy and it teared him apart.

He falls on his knees as realisation hits him, he was going to lose the love of life. His glossy eyes decipher his little baby running towards him with a stuffie tucked under her arm as she hugs him tight. "missed you daddy" Avery sweetly says nuzzling her face into her father's neck as Harry hugs her tight scared he might lose her soon.

It was right then harry decides to honour his vows. Like he should have before. He vowed to always always be there for her and promised that y/n and their future family will always be his first and foremost important priority.

The next few days he stays home and takes care of Avery and helps y/n around the house. But she still wasn't convinced and wasn't talking to him. When he tucks Avery after reading her a bed time story he finds his wife cuddling under the blankets with a romcom playing on the tv.

He sits beside her and pulls her closer and y/n immediately relaxes beside him nuzzling further into his warm chest. Harry cradles her bump as he says "I'm sorry baby, I really am. I'm sorry i didn't realise it sooner. I'm going to be here from now on. You guys means the world to me and you are everything i need."

"It's okay bub, I'm glad you are here now that's all that matters" y/n says lightly kissing his jaw.

Harry cranes his neck and finally attaches his lips with hers. Their lips move in sync as harry pulls y/n onto his lap his hands roaming around her body settling on her bump.

"I love you" harry says eyes meeting hers and y/n whispers the words back and reattaches their lips.

Y/n was glad harry came back. He kept his words and promises and started working less hours, cooked breakfast for them, dropped Avery at her preschool , took care of y/n and they finally felt like a family again.

A/n: I hope this was up to its expectations anon. since most of you voted for happy ending, but some of the requests may have a sad ending.

send in any requests:)

[cherrycola27]

Burnin' Up

Pairing: Jake x Fiancée!Reader

Warnings: Some Language, mostly fluff!

...........................................

You tapped your fingers to the beats of your 2000s Pop playlist. It was finally Friday, and you were itching to get home and get ready for your anniversary date with Jake.

Your engagement ring gleamed in the late afternoon sun as you tapped along to the Jonas Brothers. You hoped Jake would appreciate the high heels and red dress you had picked out for tonight as much as Nick, Joe, or Kevin would've. Though you hoped he'd appreciate the matching red lace set you'd planned to wear under it even more.

You glanced at the clock on your dash. It was 3:45. You'd left school the moment all of your students had gone, knowing you would need every available minute between dismissal and the time he arrived home from base to get ready. Jake had told you that your reservation was at 6 pm sharp and that he had planes to get ready on base right after training.

You were thankful that he had decided to do that because that meant you had full reign over the bathroom for at least an hour and a half.

You turned onto your street just as the song was finishing. You made a mental list in your head of what you needed to do when you got home.

However, all of those plans went out the window when you rolled into the driveway, and Jake's Silverado was parked in his spot.

Worry set it. Being a teacher meant that on most days, you left before Jake. However, he almost never made it home before you did. You checked your phone to make sure that you hadn't missed a text from him saying training ended early. Nothing. Now you really were getting worried. If Jake was home, that meant something was wrong.

You quickly gathered your things and made your way into the house.

"Jake?" You called out. You slipped your shoes off next to his boots. You hung up your keys and set your bag down next to the bench in the mudroom.

"Jake, honey, I'm home!" You called out again, waiting for him to answer.

You padded your way through the kitchen and into the living room. You were just about to head upstairs to see if he was in the shower when you heard a faint groan come from the couch.

You tiptoed over to the sofa and peaked over the edge. You let out a sigh of relief when you saw Jake asleep, one arm thrown over his head, the other dangling off the edge. You were half tempted to take a photo, but then he let out another groan in his sleep.

Your brows crinkled when you noticed that his body was flush, and he was paler than usual.

You gently shook his shoulder trying to wake him, without startling him.

"Jake," you cooed to him before stroking his face.

You quickly pulled your hand back because his forehead was searing hot to the touch.

"Jake, baby, wake up." You said, jostling him.

His eyes flew open, and he quickly sat up. "What time is it?" He asked in a haze. "It's a little after four. Honey, are you feeling okay?" You respond to him.

"What—yes I'm fine. I had a headache, and Maverick let me come home a little early. I just dozed off when I got home. I was hoping a nap would make me feel better before tonight," Jake told you.

"Sweetheart, if you aren't feeling well, we can celebrate our anniversary another night. Why don't I call the restaurant and cancel our table, and we can stay in and relax?" You say stroking his head. You could feel the heat radiating off of him, he definitely had a fever.

"Absolutely not! I've had this planned for over a month. This is our last first date anniversary before we get married, and I wanted to make it special for you!" He proclaims.

"Jakey, I understand that, but if you're sick, I don't want you pushing through it and being miserable all night." You tell him, trying to reason with him.

"Listen here, woman, I do not get sick!" He states matter of factly. To further try and prove his point, Jake quickly stands up, ready to change for the evening. But when he rises to his feet, the room starts to spin.

"Easy there, cowboy." You say, jumping up to steady him.

You press the back of your hand to his forehead and sigh.

"Jake, you're burning up." You tell him

"Yeah, for you, baby." He quips back.

"Jacob Thomas Seresin Jr., would you just admit that you don't feel well so I can take care of you?" You huff out, placing your hands on your hips.

"You used my full name. Does that mean I'm in trouble?" He chuckles.

"You will be if you don't get your ass upstairs and let me take care of you." You threaten him.

"But honey, I don't want you to have to do that. I'll be fine." He tries to convince you, but it's too late. You're already dragging him by the arm towards the stairs.

"In sickness and in health, Jacob. In sickness and in health." You call over your shoulder.

"We aren't even married yet!" He half argues back.

"And if you don't get changed into some comfy clothes and get your ass in that bed, we won't be." You tell him sternly.

"I don't know why you're worrying about me. I'm telling you, I don't get sick!" Jake huffs, tossing his clothes into the hamper and grabbing a pair of sweatpants.

His back is turned to you, but he can feel the daggers you are staring. He decides it's best not to argue with you. He would also never admit it, but he is feeling kind of crummy. His head hurts, he feels exhausted, and his skin was kind of clammy.

He trudges over to his side of the bed and climbs in. You come over and make sure he is comfortable, tucking the covers around him and kissing his forehead.

"Here." You say holding out a glass of water and a bottle of cold medicine. He accepts them without a fight, downing the medicine taking a sip of the water.

"Thank you, honey," He says before setting the glass on the night stand.

"You're welcome. Now, I'm going to call the restaurant and let them know we can't make it, and then I'm going to make you some soup. Get some rest baby." You say before heading back downstairs.

By the time you return upstairs with some soup and a Gatorade, Jake is fast asleep.

You smile softly at him. Jake always tried to put up a macho man front. It warmed your heart for him to let his guard down around you.

It hadn't always been this way. When you had first met Jake, you thought he was a certified asshat. He had strolled up to you at the Hard Deck, toothpick in his mouth and beer in his hand.

He tried everything to win you over, but you wouldn't budge. It continued like that for weeks. The truth is Jake was dying to get to know you. He couldn't figure you out, but he desperately wanted to.

One night, you finally snapped at him. "Bagman, you are such an annoying human being. You go around like you know who I am, but you don't!" You had yelled at him, pushing his chest.

"Sweets, I don't have you figured out at all. You've got me on my toes. Every time I come in here, all I want to do is get to know you. Why won't you let me?" Jake said back smoothly.

His honesty had sealed the deal for you. After that, you were his girl. Soon, you would be his wife.

Jake shifted in his sleep, arms reaching out for you. He let out a groan, and his brows furrowed together.

You quickly set the soup to the side and changed into some sleep shorts, and one of his old Navy shirts. You slipped under the covers and snuggled up next to you.

He sighed contently, tucking you under his chin.

You sank back again him, enjoying this tender moment.

You don't remember falling asleep, but the next morning, you wake up, and your body is cold and achy. The sheets that are supposed to be occupied by Jake are empty.

You sit up and see that the soup from last night has been taken from the room, and his sleep clothes are neatly folded on his side of the bed.

"Jake?" You call for him as you walk downstairs.

"Baby! What are you doing up?" He asks, turning the stove off.

"I could ask you the same thing." You say putting your hands on your hips.

"I feel so much better this morning, so I wanted to surprise my best girl with breakfast in bed." He tells you.

"Aw, Jakey, you're too good to me." You smile, coming into the kitchen to hug him.

"Just trying to be half as good to you are you are to me." He says, embracing you back.

You pull back as he leans down to kiss you, but just has he does, you start to cough.

"Uh oh." He says. Looking down at you.

"Don't give me that look, Jake." You tell him.

"What look?" He feigns innocence.

Suddenly, everything hurts, and you're freezing cold. Jake gives you a knowing smile.

He opens his mouth, but before he can say anything, you cut him off.

"Don't say it, I know, I know. And I'm going back upstairs to bed. I'll take some medicine and hopefully feel better in the morning." You half laugh turning away from him.

"It's my turn to nurse you back to health now, baby!" He yells up the stairs.

"Don't you dare, you're the reason I'm sick, Jake!" You yell back from the top.

You can hear him laughing through the house.

This may not have been the anniversary weekend the two of you had originally planned, but you wouldn't have it any other way.

And that's it, folks! My final entry for @roosterforme 's love is in the challenge! I hope you enjoyed it. This fic was inspired by "Burnin' Up" by the Jonas Brothers. My teenage self is screaming!

Tag List: @dreamingathighaltitude @shanimallina87 @luckyladycreator2 @mak-32 @katieshook02 @samhapner6 @rosiahills22 @thedroneranger @roosterforme @youlightmeupfinn @withahappyrefrain @arson-tm @sebsxphia

[inmyicyworld]

Sandcastles

CEO Husband Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Bucky is always working overtime, but when his best girls really need him, he leaves everything behind just to make you happy.

Words count: 1.6k

Warnings: fluff, dad and husband Bucky, like one curse word.

Author’s note: just a cute little drabble. obviously, Sebastian’s pictures from Paris inspired me, so enjoy <3

masterlist my ao3 ko-fi

Bucky Barnes was a busy man. Running a multi-million-dollar company wasn’t the easiest thing, but something that he cared more about than this job was his family. His beautiful wife and daughter.

You always loved and appreciated the attention, support, and endless love that your husband gave, even when you just started dating eight years ago. As soon as you met, it took some time for both of you to finally admit your feelings, but when you got together, it was perfect. You’ve never felt that way in your life before. When you were younger, everyone told you that you wouldn’t be able to find a person because of your high standards, but when you started dating James Buchanan Barnes, you knew that it was forever.

A beautiful, respectful, and caring man who would do anything for you.

For the past two months, he has been more distant. His company was getting bigger; he had too many meetings, and too many new things required his whole attention. You understood it; of course you did. But you would be lying if you said that you didn’t miss him. Your daughter felt it too. She was totally daddy’s girl, so being away from him for too long upset her, even though she was trying to be tough and careless, just like her dad when he was working.

You talked to her about her dad’s work, and she was a smart girl for a 3-year-old. She understood that he has a lot to do right now and that he still loves her more than anything in this world.

Today he returned home only after 2 am., you heard that he went to take a shower in a different room, probably not to wake you up. But you were too eager to spend as much time with him as possible, even if it was when he was falling asleep.

Bucky came into the room quietly. As soon as he got under the blanket, his warm and strong arms wrapped around you. He pulled you closer to him, burying his nose into your neck.

"I’m sorry, doll. Again." He took a deep breath, enjoying your scent, which he missed so much. "I love you."

"That’s okay, baby." You moved even closer to him, burying your fingers into his wet hair, and left a kiss on his temple. "I love you too. Now take some rest."

You hadn't even started to fall asleep when you heard a weird noise outside your bedroom, and then the door slightly opened.

"Daddy? Mommy?" A little voice came through the silence of the room. "Are you asleep?" Your daughter suddenly sobbed, and you and Bucky immediately sat on the bed, reaching for the nightstand lamps.

"Hey, angel, what happened? Come here." Bucky’s voice was very soft and gentle, as always when he talked to your daughter. She came closer to the bed, and Bucky picked her up, putting her on his lap. She was tightly holding her favorite white wolf, which you gifted Bucky as a joke because of his nickname at work. Your daughter's eyes were a little bit red, her hair messy, and her cheeks wet with tears. You moved closer to them, gently rubbing her face.

"What’s going on? You saw a bad dream?" You quietly asked, but she just shook her head.

"I— I—" She was obviously too upset to put her words together, so Bucky started to rub her back, whispering a quiet "sh-h".

"I— miss you, daddy." As soon as these words left her mouth, you and Bucky froze, and she started crying even harder. "I don’t s-see you, and me and mom—mommy are always alone."

Bucky looked you in the eyes, and you saw that his own were full of tears. The last thing he wanted to do was upset either of you. He felt that his heart was ripping apart. You made your daughter cry, you idiot. Your wife deserves better.

You just put your hand on his shoulder and squeezed, already knowing where his mind went. He always wanted to give his family everything, and the fact that he put work above his two favorite people in the world made him sick.

"Angel, hey, baby, look at me." Bucky turned back to your daughter, grabbing her little face with his hands and gently wiping away her tears. "I promise that the day after tomorrow we will go somewhere. Only mommy, you, and me, okay?"

"But—but you’re working."

"I know, angel. But I didn't want to make you feel lonely or to stay away for too long from your mom." He grabbed your hand and brought it to his mouth to leave a kiss. "We will go wherever you want to. Maybe stay there for the week. You would like that?" He smiled at your daughter, and she happily giggled, wrapping herself around Bucky’s neck. "I love you. Both of you. You two are my whole life, and I'll do anything to make you happy."

You softly smiled at him, leaning in to leave a quick kiss on his lips.

Your daughter put away her white wolf and opened her other arm, wanting you to join her and Bucky in a hug.

That night she stayed in your bed because she almost passed out in Bucky’s arms but still held onto you both too tightly. The three of you happily curled under the blanket, with your daughter in between. Bucky knew that it was time for him to finally make the right decision. To choose his family.

As Bucky promised, one day later your little family was on a vacation where no one could disturb you. He left Steve, Sam, and Natasha, his closest and oldest friends, in charge of everything, canceled all the meetings, and took you and your daughter on the private jet that brought you here. One of the most beautiful places you’ve ever been

It was quiet. No strangers, no annoying noise, no worries. Just the three of you on the beach with a perfect little house and warm, crystal-clear water

You were wearing a light flowy dress, and Bucky, finally free from those annoying suits, chose trousers with a white tank top and shirt on top of it. 

You two were sitting under the sunset on a blanket with food and a bottle of wine, while your daughter was playing near the water with sand. It was such an amazing evening; just everything was perfect, and as you were watching your smiling husband, you felt that you had fallen in love once again.

"You keep staring at me, doll, You ‘kay?" He finally turned his face to you, and you couldn't hold your wide smile, which he immediately returned.

"I’m okay. It’s just… everything is perfect here—the beach, the house, you two here." You covered your eyes with your hand because of the setting sun. "You know, you’ve been here for a couple of hours, but you look much better. Your skin is glowing, you’re happy, and, god, that hair bun looks really hot." Bucky’s smile grew wilder because of your words.

He grabbed you in bridal style and set you across his lap, wrapping his hands around your waist. You slightly screamed, not being ready for such movements, but then happily melted into your husband's touch.

"So you think that I look hot?" A cheesy grin crossed his face, and you playfully rolled your eyes.

"Do you think I would’ve married you if I thought otherwise, James?" You arched an eyebrow at him. Your hands found the perfect place under Bucky’s blue shirt by themselves. God, it's been too long since you spent good time together alone.

"What do you think about the idea that when we get home, we send our daughter to visit her amazing grandparents, so we could be completely alone for a couple of days?" He said it as if he was reading your mind, so you just silently nodded. "Doll, you’re too beautiful for this damn world; I can’t even understand how I was able to be far away from you for that long. I missed you so much, baby." Bucky’s hands slipped lower on your hips, while his lips were leaving sweet kisses on the side of your neck.

"Not here, Buck; we’re not alone, remember?" You nodded back at your daughter, who was honestly more interested in building sandcastles.

"Of course. Just wanted to say that I’m so sorry for my absence. I got so involved in work that I didn’t even notice that you too were hurt. I’ve never wanted to do that. I’m sorry. And I love you. So fucking much." Bucky connected your foreheads and put his right hand on your cheek.

"Don’t be sorry. I know that you want better for us and that you want to do everything right. It’s okay to make mistakes sometimes. You know, you are such a great dad because your daughter’s tears made you leave everything and spend time with us. And I’m forever thankful for this." You smiled, holding his stubbled face in your hands. "I love you, James."

You two connected with a kiss. It wasn’t too rough or desperate. It was just pure love and adoration for one another. Bucky was slowly moving his lips, feeling the need for your taste, your smell, and your touch. Your little bubble didn’t last too long, though, not after your daughter finally wanted your attention.

"Mommy! Daddy!" You pulled away from the kiss, looking back at your daughter, who was now all in the sand. "Do you want to help me build a castle?"

You looked at Bucky, who had the same smile on his face.

"Of course, angel. What do you need from us?"

[effy-writes]

Addict (Blitzø x Reader)

3: Pilot: Pill

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s been about 3 months since you moved it with Blitz/fucked him and Stolas, and ohhh boy Blitz sure does keep reminding you of it. He would always say how much you miss his dick and everytime you go take a shower he’s always like “Showering without me?”

“Yes, Blitz. Showering without you yet again.”

“Oh come on, we saw each other naked before!”

“Yeah a one time thing that I really don’t want to talk about.”

Now, with your addiction, you got away with taking adderal. It doesn't do much, but it's better than being sober. Sometimes whenever the crew goes out to kill, you will leave the office and go find either coke or meth and get high before they all come back. Blitz however, doesn't know that any of this is happening even though you guys been living together for 3 months now.

Blitz walked in front of the whiteboard while you were viciously sweeping the floor due to the amount of energy you had.

"Alright. Now, I know business has been... a bit slow lately, yes. It's no one's fault, okay? I'm not naming any names here... Moxxie. Now, does anyone have... any bright ideas on how we can get business drummin' up again?"

"What about a car wash?"

"This is Hell, Millie. No one cares about cars being clean here, okay? Wh- Ooh! What about a billboard?"

Moxxie rolled his eyes, "We can't afford a billboard, sir."

"Helpful, Moxxie. Really glad you're in the room right now. Have you guys forgotten what service we provide?"

Blitz proceeded to turn on the TV, showing everyone assassinating the humans from earth. 

"Ahh, those were the good times." Blitz reminisced.

"I don't need any reminding, sir. Considering you blew most of our salaries on an obnoxious TV ad last week. One that you then additionally paid to have run for a full three hours on a channel... nobody watches."

"Uh, hey. Excuse me? What's "obnoxious" about a super-fun jingle, alright? It's a fun distraction when an advertisement's spittin' bullshit! Y/n, any ideas?"

You stopped dead in your tracks. "Uh..I don't know. I'm a janitor."

"Useless." Blitz scoffed.

Loona received a call and answered nonchalantly, "I.M.P.", The two talked for a bit and she hung up.

"Colorado. Some guy named Eddie." She flipped a page of the magazine that she's reading.

"Finally." Moxxie said, getting up from his chair and walking towards the portal that Loona opened up.

You continued to sweep and mop the entire floor. Running around and dusting every little thing.

"Blitz isn't here, you can stop working." Loona said, not looking up from her magazine.

"I like to clean, keeps my mind busy."

An hour later you were on the floor, scrubbing the left over gunk with a toothbrush. Loona would occasionally glance at you and roll her eyes.

The door of the room opened up, making you stand up and pretend that you're not cracked out. "Uh, who's this?" You pointed to the boy laying on a stretcher.

"Moxxie was being retarded and shot the wrong person." Blitz huffed.

"I'm sorry, sir! I'd like to go on record and say that incident was Loona's fault. Dispatch is supposed to give us the right info on the target."

"Oh, sit on a dick, Moxxie."

"YOU sit! Sit on... a... and the... d-- DO YOUR JOB!!" He slammed his fist on the table.

"Hey, now. We don't blame our screwups on Loona, okay?! She didn't do anything wrooooong~"

"Are you kidding me, sir? She's awful!"

Loona flipped him off before answering the phone. "I.M.P....Blitz! That clingy, rich asshole is on the phone! Says it's urgent and wants to talk to you! Sounds a little DTF-y."

"Oh, GOD, it was one time! If Y/n and I hadn't slept with that privileged asshole, none of us would have access to the living world." He crossed his arms.

"...You what?" Moxxie looked disgusted.

"Blitz! What the fuck!?" You walked over to him. "That was supposed to be a secret!"

"Wait," Millie stood up. "You slept with our boss?" She smiled.

"I got sucked into it. Don't want to talk about it."

Blitz put his arm around you, "I don't know, you seem to enjoy it." He teased. You pushed him off and sat down next to Millie.

"Blitzzz answer the phone!" Loona groaned.

Blitz motioned you to come with him to the office to talk to Stolas. At first you shook your head and stayed still. "Dude, he wanted you, not me."

"We're in this together, I don't want to be left alone to talk to him."

You eventually gave in and followed Blitz into his office. He planted himself onto his chair and picked up the phone, "Hey Stolas."

"There's a political candidate causing trouble up on Earth for a few of my associates. He's trying to convince people global warming exists!"

"Doesn't it?" You replied.

"Well... yes. But, more people die if nothing is done about it. And it gets lonely here~"

"Okay, well. Yeah, that makes sense." Blitz agreed.

"You know what happens when I'm lonely, Blitzy and Y/n?"

"How come I don't get a nickname?" You joked.

"God-fuckin'-dammit." Blitz said under his breath.

"When I'm lonely, I become hungry. And when I become hungry, I want to choke on that red cock of yours...Y/n fingering me, and me licking all of your cum, before taking out your cock, and fucking Y/n while she’s sucking me with more teeth until she’s screaming daddy like a FUCKING baby--!"

Blitz ended the call, looking traumatized. You on the other hand was laughing your ass off. "Looks like he wants us to fuck him."

"You're enjoying this aren't you?"

"A little." You snickered.

Blitz broke his phone and blended it.

"Loona!" He shouted.

She entered the office and put her hands on her hip.

"Eat this. And then y'know that bridge over the freeway?"

"Yeah?"

"Shit off it!"

The three walked out of the office, you leaned against the door.

"Look, the point is, Loona is a valued member of our family, and we don't get rid of family." Blitz finished off the conversation from earlier.

"We aren't a family, sir! You are the boss! We are the employees! You treat her like she's some troubled teenager! She's more like a meth-addicted homeless woman you let man the phones!"

You and Blitz exchanged glances. He walked up to the window to change topics. "That is offensive! Without homeless people, I wouldn't have HALF the joy and laughter I do in this life!"

"While we're on the subject of "family", can you stop finding me and Millie outside of work? Can't you just hang out with Y/n instead?"

"Come on, sweetie! It's not that big a deal." Millie smiled.

"Excuse me...WHAT?!"

"Y/n and I live together, i'm up her ass as much as I'm up yours."

"You're literally up in my ass." You snorted.

"Just... stop... doing that!" Moxxie said to Blitz, but might as well as say it to you.

Blitz shrugged. "I don't see what the issue is! There somethin' you don't want me seein'?"

"No!"

"You a baby-wiener-haver?"

"Sir, what you say and how you act is totally INAPPROPRIATE!" Moxxie stood up.

"Calm down, Mox! You're gonna have another panic attack!"

"I AM CALM!"

"Shh-shh-shh. There, there."

"Look, I don't judge the boring couple stuff you do outside work hours. So, don't... judge me!" Blitz crossed his arms.

"Oh, I do judge you, sir! Quite a lot, actually! Y/n how come you don't stop him?"

"I have no control of what he does."

"Mox, he's our boss!"

"No-no-no, it's fine Mills, your husband is just... how do I say this without being offensive? ...retarded."

"Does immaturely insulting me make you feel better about your sad situationship with Y/n?"

"Moxxie for the last time we're not dating!" You interjected.

"Oh come on! You two are fucking each other, live with each other, and constantly flirting."

"Friends with benefits." You shrugged.

"Y/n has too many problems to date." Blitz stated.

"Fuck you too then! You have more problems than me!"

"At least I'm not a dru-"

"Don't." You gritted your teeth.

"Moxxie, the only reason you have a wife is because you're easy to manage!" Loona looked up from her phone.

Millie slams her hands against the table, "No, he's not, you BITCH!"

"Do not talk to my receptionist that way! She's sensitive!" Blitz crossed his arms.

"Yes, I am!"

"You guys are all fucking assholes."

Everyone looked at the kid.

"Oh, shut up, kid! You're lucky to witness this!" Blitz pointed his finger.

"It's been a literal hell having to pretend to be paralyzed so you fuckshits wouldn't kill me! But, now I want that. I want death!"

Eddie pointed to Blitz. "You are a selfish, greedy clown. And I'm a kid! We're supposed to like clowns! Even the creepy ones!"

"HA!" You slapped your knee.

"What's up with your teeth?" Eddie laughed, "Looks like you smoke meth, especially with your fucked up skin and the fact that half of your teeth is gone."

You put your hand over your mouth.

"Hey, now! That's not very--"

Eddie interrupted Moxxie, "If I wanted to hear from a spineless jackass, I'd rip out your spine and ask you some shit."

"That's my husband you're talkin' to!" Millie slammed her fist on the table.

"That's your husband?! I figured you for a slut. But, I didn't know you needed dick that bad! And you!" He pointed to Loona.

"What? What about me?"

"Nothing. I don't talk to dogs. I'm a cat person."

"Wow. Ah, y'know, kid, you kind of are a piece of shit." Blitz replied.

Everyone in unison agreed as you tugged on Blitz's sleeve to get his attention. "Are my teeth that bad?" You whispered in a sad voice, opening your mouth ever so slightly.

"Do you want me to be honest or nice?" He whispered back.

"Fuck you."

"Oh, fuck! Guys, I just got a text from our client! Guess he was the right target after all." Loona smiled.

"Who?"

"Him."

"Me?" Eddie said in disbelief.

"Yup." She said smugly.

"They wanted us to kill an actual child?" Blitz raised his eyebrow.

"That's what they're sayin'."

"...Well, Christ on a stick. I guess there is a God."

Blitz draws a flintlock pistol and fires it at Eddie, resulting in blood splattering everywhere.

"Y/n you're the janitor, go clean it up." Blitz smirked.

"Let me go to the bathroom first." You fast walked into the bathroom and locked the door, pulling out a baggy from your pocket. You poured the adderal onto your hand and brought it to your mouth, swollowing the white pills dry.

You left the bathroom once it kicked in, and cleaned up the mess while the others got rid of Eddie's body.

[sanyu-thewitch05]

Hunter seeing his little wife wearing the pretty lingeries he gifted her. He can hardly hold himself when he went home and saw his little wife in the sexy lingerie he likes~

"Darling, you're wearing the lingerie I gave you?" Hunter asks, putting down his work bag.

"Yeah, all my other clothes seem to have disappeared," You reply, trying to cover yourself up.

Your clothes were hidden in Hunter's closet. Heath and Henry broke in while you were showering and hid everything away. They learned you were on a sex strike to protest Hunter, making you miss the latest sequel release to your favorite book.

"Well, would you like to wear mine?" Hunter suggests, unbuttoning his shirt. "You know, you look beautiful in that red lace."

"No."

"Please."

"Absolutely not."

"I'm your husband!"

"And I got married to a weirdo jock at 18 in my first year of college!"

The room goes silent, and you turn over in the bed. You pull the covers over your body, hiding yourself from him. The bed creaks as Hunter climbs onto it and wraps his around your waist.

"Leave me alone!" You yell, tossing a pillow at him.

"Y/N, I know our marriage isn't the best, but could we please get along. If not for us, then for our little angel in the next room. Nobody wants to see their parents fighting," Hunter says, rubbing your back.

You hated it. You hated that word. Angel. It's what got you into this mess in the first place. If Heath and Henry hadn't seen you at the Halloween festival, perhaps you would've had a different life? Maybe you'd be with someone else? Someone kind, like Charles.

"Don't call her angel, please."

"Sorry. If it makes you feel better, they told me about the Halloween festival performance a month after we started dating. I never knew you were in it until then."

You turn to your husband and kiss him. His hands go to your head and rub your hair.

"You're the best wife a man could ask for," Hunter compliments, wrapping his legs around your waist. "God, you're so hot in that lingerie!"

"Why don't you take it off then?"

Hunter blinks, and then he laughs. Before you even realize it, he's removed your bottoms and stuck his index finger inside you. You bury your face in his chest, too embarrassed by the feeling of lust you've felt since dating Hunter.

"Oh, come on, baby~ You've had sex with me plenty of times since high school. You even gave birth to a whole baby, and you still can't have a single digit in you," Hunter teases, fingering you faster.

You moan with pleasure into his chest and gently ride his finger.

"You know, our sweet daughter said she wanted a sister. I promised her I'd give her one. Maybe I should knock out two birds with one stone and fuck so much your womb just accepts my sperm?"

"Well, I did want another child to keep me company for when I'm home and not working."

"In that case, I have no choice but to oblige."

Hunter unbuckles his pants and pulls out his cock. You put it inside of you and ride him. He grabs your hips and helps you bounce your ass on his cock.

"You feel so good!" You moan, your breasts clacking together.

"I know! That's why you stayed with me!" Hunter replies, speeding up the pace of your riding.

Before you could finish, he suddenly thrusts in you three times and paints your pussy white. Your back arches in pleasure, and you fall onto Hunter.

"You did good, darling," Hunter compliments, rubbing your back.

"Thank you," You say, relaxing at the sound of his heartbeat.

The baby monitor on the nightstand clicks to life.

"WAAAAHHH!" Your baby girl cries, giving Hunter and You a reason to get changed.

"I'll get our clothes," Hunter says, pulling out of you and getting out of bed.

"I'll clean up really quick," You reply, getting up and walking to the bathroom.

[f1-disaster-bi]

"You deserve better than me." ~ Daniel/Lando?

Oooo this is giving Party au

Lando had always known that eventually something about his sobriety would get out.

He knew that nothing stayed secret forever. He knew that he'd have to talk about his missing year at some point, that he couldn't ignore it but he had thought that he'd have more time to figure it out.

Lando had always planned to say something. He'd been working towards it with both his sponsor and therapist. He'd talked to the team about it, about coming forward with his struggle with mental health and with being sober, but Lando had really thought that it would happen when he retired, not while he was still racing.

The choice had been taken out of his hands three weeks ago.

Someone had leaked something about his six months in the inpatient rehab program. They hadn't been able to find out who the person was, but enough was leaked that Lando had woken up to panicked calls from his magement, from the team, from his friends and family.

He had woken up to Max bursting into his apartment, and taking his phone away from him because Lando had started having a break down and Daniel wasn't there. Charles had held him while he had sobbed, and Max had filtered his social media but he still saw what everyone was saying about him.

It didn't matter how hard they tried, Lando still saw the messages, the tweets, the articles. He saw what everyone thought about him. He saw the fans turning on him, calling him junkie scum, wishing he had died.

Lando had already put out his statement. He had given an interview to Natalie. All questions had been pre-checked, and Lando had had to have his sponsor nearby. He'd been honest about his mental health, about his drinking, about the team noticing something was wrong and getting him help. He left out the admission that he had drank in his drivers room and had driven in practices in Monaco while riding a high. No one needed ro know that.

The interview had helped a little. It had helped for the world to see what he had dealt with, to hear his words and he knew that even if a thousand people hated him, that there was at least one person out there watching his interview and seeing that they could do it. They could get clean too, and he tried to focus on that but right now, Lando’s head was too loud.

It was too messy inside his head as he remained curled up in the dark of his hotel room. A group of fans ha been screaming abuse at him on the way into the hotel. One had thrown a drink at him and Lando had walked straight into the shower with his clothes on because he smelled of vodka and it made him want to wretch.

"Lando? Baby, are you with me?", Daniel asked softly as he reached for him, never touching without Lando’s consent. Lando hadn't even heard him come in. "Baby, talk to me. Don't disappear on me"

Lando looked at him as best as he could in the dark. He reached out for Daniel's hand, taking it in his own and squeezing softly as he tried to find his words among the mess in his head. His tongue felt heavy in his mouth.

"You deserve better than me", Lando whispered as he felt his tears building up behind his eyes, "I'm so sorry"

Daniel watched him with sad eyes as he lifted Lando’s hand to kiss it softly.

"Can I touch your face?", Daniel asked, and when Lando nodded, Daniel cupped his face softly. He tilted Lando’s head so their eyes met, "You are my everything, sunshine. There is no one in this world that is better for me because I already found the best and it's you, okay? You're my heart, my home, my always, and I love you. You have nothing to apologise for"

Lando wanted to believe him. He wanted so desperately to be perfect for Daniel but he just felt like a screw up. He felt like everytime things were going right for them, he fucked it up with his addiction issues despite the fact he was over four years sober now.

"I keep messing up", Lando choked out, tears spilling down his cheeks and over Daniel's hands.

"No, sunshine. You haven't fucked up", Daniel reassured, leaning in to kiss his forehead softly, "The world is just a shitty place that takes advantage of people's struggles for likes and comments but you are not messing anything up. You make the world a better place by being here, by being you and showing people that you are more than the traumas you endured, okay? I love you so much, please believe that"

Lando sniffled as he leaned forward to rest his head against Daniel's. He tried to nod softly as Daniel brushed his nose against his in a soft gesture.

"I love you too", Lando whispered softly, "Everything is just...."

"Too Much right now", Daniel finished for him, wiping away Lando's tears, "And that's okay. Something really horrible was done to you and they took away your choice to come forward when you were ready. It's okay that you're not okay, Lando. Just don't shut me out"

"Okay, okay, I can do that", Lando nodded as Daniel moved to kiss his forehead again before he pushed into Daniel's lap, needing his fiancé close, "Hold me?"

"Always, sunshine. I'm never letting you go"

[atimeofyourlife]

Broken glass inside my head

day 30 | rated t | wc: 985 | prompts: RECOVERY | Hospital Bed | Holding Back Tears | "What have I done?" | cw: discussions of drug&alcohol addiction, bobbys s1 relapse | ao3 When Buck and Hen find Bobby after his relapse, Buck comes clean about his own addiction.

Buck was worried as he and Hen stood outside Bobby's door. He hadn't known Bobby long, but he knew this was out of character for him.

"He ever gone MIA like this before?" He asked.

"No. Honestly, I don't, I don't know much about his story before he took over the house. Just that he, uh... he's in recovery." Hen replied.

Buck felt his heart drop. He'd thought himself pretty observant, and good at picking up on others struggling with addiction, but despite the hours he'd spent with Bobby, he'd missed it.

Finding Bobby was painful. Passed out in bed next to an empty handle of whiskey. Dragging him into the shower to get him to sober up. It felt like a haunting ghost of his past.

Once Bobby was out the shower, Buck was battling his mind on whether or not to come clean about his own addiction.

"How long has it been?" He asked, choosing to sit on the arm of the chair rather than sitting next to Bobby on the couch.

"546 days. 45 and a half if we're being picky." Bobby sighed. "Days. 18 months."

"That crash was hardcore."

"Yup." Bobby replied, and Hen came across with a mug of tea for him. "Thanks."

Buck hesitated for a second, before pulling his wallet out for his sobriety chip. "I got this a couple months ago." He handed the chip to Bobby. "Going home after the last shift was the closest I've been to relapse in three years."

"We all have our breaking point." Hen said softly.

--

They found an AA meeting to take Bobby to. Buck thought for a second.

"D'you think I could get out of work for a few more hours? I know how hard those meetings are, especially right after relapse or when you're in a dark place. It might help to have someone go as moral support." Buck asked, glancing between Bobby and Hen.

"That's a good idea, Buck. I'll make sure you're cleared." Hen replied, before frowning slightly. "You said that you're three years sober, but you've been out for drinks with us after work."

"Alcohol was never an issue for me. I can, and have, stopped drinking for weeks at a time. I've worked in bars with no issue. I've only had issues with oxy. And fentanyl that one time my stash was laced." Buck explained. "I guess it's good to have someone at work knowing that I have trouble with narcotics."

"Thanks for trusting us with that, Buck." Hen said softly.

"Uh, Bobby. Could I borrow a hoodie or a jacket or something? I don't think it'll look good showing up to a meeting in LAFD uniform."

--

At the meeting, Buck didn't sit directly next to Bobby. Keeping some space to not make it obvious they had come in together. Other than that, it felt much the same to any other meeting he'd been to.

"Is there anyone else who has something they'd like to share?" The leader of the meeting asked.

"I have something I'd like to share." Buck stood up and made his way to the front of the room. He stepped up to the podium and took a breath. "Hi, my name's Evan, and I'm an addict."

"Hi, Evan." The group chorused back.

"Now, this isn't my usual meeting. Normally, I attend NA meetings, not AA, as my problem was always more with narcotics. But I'm here in moral support for a friend. And anyway, there's not much difference between the meetings. The same basic idea, same twelve step plan, the same church basements, and the same lousy coffee." He said, getting a polite laugh.

"My addiction started when I was sixteen. I was on my high school football team, and I got injured. A pretty typical story. The medication I was prescribed didn't just help my physical pain. It calmed my brain down and I found I was able to focus in class properly for the first time. My grades improved. It felt like it could only be a good thing." He took a moment to collect his thoughts.

"I kept at it. Because it made me feel good. I started traveling and continued using. I was in active addiction for about six years. Then I had a scare and got sober. I've now been sober for over three years. And last month, I went to a psychologist. It turns out the feeling of my brain calming down and being able to focus was because I had undiagnosed, and therefore unmanaged, ADHD. I was self medicating for it. Finding that root cause behind my addiction has helped me massively in my sobriety. It's helped me understand my addiction in ways I cannot even describe. I feel more stable and confident in my sobriety journey now than I ever have before."

"Thank you, Evan, for sharing your story. You brought up an incredible point in understanding your addiction. That isn't a route forward for everyone, because addiction can be such a tangled web, and so difficult to understand. But if you can find those threads, it can be an invaluable tool for taking that step forward." The leader retook his place at the podium, and continued speaking.

--

Buck made some small talk with other people at the meeting, before heading out to the parking lot to wait for Bobby. He always found himself a little uncomfortable after meetings, but he was now feeling lighter than ever.

Bobby came out a few minutes later, looking better than he had earlier in the day.

"Hey." He said, getting Bobby's attention. "You doing okay?"

"Yeah. Better at least." Bobby replied, before making eye contact with Buck. "Thank you. You being here for me, telling your story. It's helped a lot."

"Any time." Buck replied with a soft smile. "I know you would do the same for me if I was struggling with my recovery."

[hxntresses]

growing up in vacuo's desert didn't translate well when fox had first came to beacon. he'd never had a schedule before, nor had he been around so many people . . . but there had been a single bright side: due to moving around a lot, learning the schools hadn't been much of a struggle. though he'd heard it took most first years a couple of months, which wasn't surprising considering how large the campus was. perhaps that's why his first instinct when miss niko's shows up is to assume her lost. but if the redhead had gone toward fox, where he strays from the crowds, to get away from people, she's lucky, as the blind man may be one of the only students unaware of the girl's birthday . . .

someone who doesn’t know of the perfect student's birthday !? maybe now she can have a break from constant praise ~

Whilst Pyrrha did appreciate all of the birthday wishes she had received today, she couldn't help but feel like it only solidified as fact that she was placed on such a high pedestal among her peers. She couldn't even make her way between classes without being showered in praise and admiration, and she could only smile and accept it for so long before she began to grow tired.

That was why she had made her way here, for a moment of peace and quiet. The area was virtually empty, save for the familiar figure of one of her upperclassmen, and it dawns on her that she may be interrupting his own solitude. However, she knew that Team CFVY were held in similarly high esteem at Beacon, so perhaps he would understand somewhat?

"Fox! I'm sorry, I hope I didn't disturb you." She offers an apology, even if unnecessary. She pauses momentarily, before rubbing her arm. "Do you mind if I join you?"

[bellysoupset]

alright alright - luke gets migraines you say 👀👀👀 and vince is the absolute goat at taking care of them…. hmmm….. maybe something there??

When their captain didn't show up for practice, Vince knew something was very very wrong. Lucas never missed practice. He came in sick, he had come in concussed from a minor car accident once and even when he was just a regular teammate and not the captain, back when he had just started dating Bell's and going through the honeymoon phase, even then he had never missed practice.

Their coach, Eric, was very useless, but he kept them practicing nonetheless and by the time they hit the showers, all of the men were in a sour mood. Practice simply wasn't the same without Lucas' high energy and terrible competitiveness pushing them forward.

"Vin," Leo stepped out of the shower, drying his hair, "any idea where Lucas is?"

He had texted him before practice and called, but there had been no answer. Bella wasn't in town, out visiting her mother back in New Mexico, so Vince was trying really hard not to text her, despite the growing anxiety.

"He hasn't answered me," Vince shook his head, "I'll stop by his place, I have a key."

"Alright," Leo nodded, worried, "please update us."

It was telling how worrying it was that Lucas had missed practice, because even Jonah hadn't quipped in about him being fine.

True to his words Vince ditched the rest of his classes and drove back to Lucas' building. Unlike Jon's it didn't have a fancy guy who monitored constantly who went up, you just needed to have the access code, which Vince did. He punched it in, then decided against the slow elevator, picking the stairs instead.

Luke's apartment was quiet, just as neat as it was normally. Bella was the messy one of the duo, Vince was well aware.

"Luke? You there?" Vince called out, snooping around. He didn't want to startle the shit out of his best friend or worse, walk on him doing things that Vince would rather not see, "Lucas?"

He knocked on the closed bedroom door, then waited for an answer. Then again. When there was none, he slowly opened the door.

The room was dark, Lucas had pulled the blackout curtains, which could only mean one thing...

"Aw dude," Vince sighed as he circled the bed and found Luke curled up on the floor, sitting against the wall, "hey..."

As an answer, Lucas let out a whimper and cradled his head even more, knees drawn up to his chest. It had been months since his last migraine episode and Vince hadn't been there for that one, so that made at least an year since he had last seen Luke in such a distressing state.

"Let's get you lying down," Vince whispered even more, barely enunciating the words, "I'm sorry-" he grabbed Lucas' arm, very gently ushering him up, only for his best friend to groan and push him away, chest jostling as he aborted a heave.

Vince's heart broke. He was no stranger to migraines, it was almost like he was surrounded by people who suffered with them. From his mom and sister, to Lucas and, now, Wendy too. It was infuriating how helpless it made him feel.

Deciding against moving him for the moment, Vince stepped into the bathroom and then paused, cringing at the fucking mess.

Clearly Luke had been feeling the headache for a while. He had somehow caused most of his and Bell's toiletries to fall to the ground, stomped on a tube of toothpaste in his rush to reach the toilet. And had failed spectacularly at that too, there was dried sick on the toilet lid and on the lid of the trashcan. Vince felt his own stomach turn at the sight, but decided he'd only deal with the bathroom once he managed to get Lucas settled and knocked the fuck out.

Instead, he wet the hand towel and folded it in, also filling up the cup Luke had knocked over with water and walking back to the room. Vin carefully set down the cup out of Lucas's reach, lest it spilled over, and then crouched down before the man, wiping his sweaty face with the wet washcloth.

"Fuck," Luke mumbled and his voice was hoarse and split the word, "Vin, fuck, it hurts..."

"I know, I'm sorry," Vince whispered back too, finishing wiping him clean and turning the washcloth over, so the fresh side was pressed to his overheated nape, "did you take meds?"

Another whimper, Lucas grimacing because of the meds, "won't stay down."

Vince's heart hammered in his chest, "ok" he said quietly, then took Lucas' wrist on his hand and pinched at the skin. It bounced back quickly, much to his relief. At least he wasn't dehydrated, yet, "ready to move?"

"Ok," Lucas groaned, then tried to move, but just the inch he managed caused him to whimper and cradle his head, "Vin..."

"Hug me," Vince whispered, all but hugging him too and Lucas promptly collapsed into the hug, wrapping his arms around his best friend's neck. Then, very very slowly Vince pushed them both up from the ground, immediately aiming for the bed.

He almost fell with Luke too, seeing as the other man was too out of it to realize he had to let go of his neck now that he was half lying down on the bed. He had his green eyes squeezed shut and a horrible frown on.

"I want to die."

"Shhh," Vince cooed, opening the bedside drawer slowly and pushing an assortment of random items to the side. Condoms, extra keys, a CD with no cover, "weed?" Vince raised his eyebrows, but Luke was too out of it to answer about the vape. Vin stashed the information away for another time, finally finding the pill bottle that had a black band on the label.

"Okay buddy, just one pill, alright?"

"Gonna hurl" Luke groaned, face half mushed on the pillow, "stomach hurts, everything hurts."

"I know, I know, I'm sorry-" Vince grabbed the abandoned cup and held up the pill for Lucas, "just a tiny sip, I promise-"

It took some coaxing, Lucas couldn't hold the glass to save his life, but he did gulp the pill down. Only to immediately gag, "Vin-"

"Breathe, you're okay," Vince cooed, taking the washcloth from his nape, turning it around and holding it to his forehead, "breathe."

Luke gagged again, whimpering, but then his body went slack. He let out a little sigh of relief and Vince the breath he wasn't aware he had been holding.

He stepped away from the bed, back into the bathroom to refreshen the washcloth, and grab the toilet bin, just in case. The whole thing was messed up, so he had to tie up the bag, wash it and only then bring it back to the room. Luke hadn't moved a finger.

"Bell?"

"Bella's out of town. Remember?"

"Uhm," he grunted, throwing an arm over his eyes, despite the room being terribly dark, "hurtssss"

Vince couldn't answer, didn't know what to answer and knew very well that empty words would only hurt more. Instead he settled for sitting on the edge of the bed, gently pushing the brown waves away from Lucas' forehead and sighing internally.

This idiot was his brother in any way that mattered, this much was clear to him. College or no college, team or no team.

Five minutes later Luke's breathing evened out and Vince lingered, waiting until he could hear snoring before pulling back.

He went back to the bathroom, opening up the window across it and starting by getting the exploded toothpaste off the ground, as well as all the other bottles and creams that had fallen. Then he crouched down to get the cleaning supplies from under the sink an finished cleaning up the old vomit from the toilet, the ground next to it and shut the door, flushing the toilet twice for good measure before dumping some bleach inside.

Much better.

He walked out of the bathroom, hoping he hadn't woken up Lucas and thankfully he hadn't, he was still knocked out. Vince tiptoed out of the room, leaving the door open so he could hear anything and took Luke's phone with him.

Vince's own phone had four different texts. Two from Leo, questioning about Lucas, one from Wendy "where should we meet?" and one from Bella, "Lucas hasn't answered me all day, have you seen him??"

Great.

He clicked on Lucas' phone and on the screen he could already see five different texts from Bella, four missed calls, one of which was his own.

She won't stop talking about us. SOS. Goodnight, text me in the morning. love you. Luke? Is everything alright? I've tried calling... Lucas, I'm worried, please call me back.

Oh fucking yikes, Vince thought as he wiped the notifications away and called Bella from his own phone, stepping into the living room so he wouldn't accidentally wake Lucas up.

She picked up on the second ring, "Vince?! Have you talked with him? Is he okay? If he's okay, tell him I'm going to fucking chop his b-"

"He's sick," Vince interrupted, muffling a chuckle, "well, not sick, it's a migraine. Found him curled up in the bedroom."

"Ah... Oh shit," Bella's anxiety clearly vanished, replaced by worry, "he stopped answering me before dinner yesterday... You think he's been sick since?"

"Yeah, I do," Vince opted not to mention the trashed bedroom, "just knocked him out with the good drugs, I'm hoping he'll be better when he's awake."

"...And if he's not?"

Vince sucked in a breath, could tell that Bella was thinking the same as him, because then she sighed.

"Look, just- Just call me if he's not better and I'll come back. I don't want him alone in a hospital."

"I'm not taking him to ER, he'd panic and make it all worse. If he's not better I'll call Jon, okay?" Vince pinched his nose bridge, feeling his very own stress headache, "don't worry honey, I'll take care of him. Enjoy yourself."

She let out a snort, "kinda hard to do, I've been here for two days and I'm already sick of my mother... Thank you V-" then some cursing as Vince overheard her mother speaking in the background and Bella answering in Spanish, "fucking hell, okay, I have to go. Please call me later, alright? And just- I love you. Take care of him."

Vince's face split with a smile, "yeah, love you too. Bye," he mumbled, feeling a little high from the impromptu declaration. He smiled as he put down the phone, still basking in the warm fuzzy feeling, then shook his head and answered Leo.

Then Wendy... Fuck, he'd have to cancel. They had been planning to go watch a very artsy movie she wanted to see, that only played that one night, and now he'd have to cancel. Vince pouted the entire time as he texted her back.

Sorry, family emergency. I'm gonna have to raincheck tonight.

He cursed as the text turned green, Wendy having clearly received and read it, but no answer came through.

In the bedroom, there was moving around and then a groan, snapping him out of his relationship drama and jogging back to the room, in time to see Luke blinking awake, drunkenly trying to pull himself up.

"Luke, no, don't-"

"I- my head," he groaned, mouth agape, a line of drool down his chin, "I'm-"

"Lu-"

His best friend gagged, productively, and a mouthful of watery bile hit his chest. Repulsion immediately caused him to gag again, just as Vince crossed the room in three large steps and help the bin up for him just in time to the next weak wave of stomach acid.

"Fuck," Lucas groaned softly, eyes still dazed from the pain.

"Yeah, dude, fuck," Vince put down the bin, "don't move, I'm going to take off your shirt..."

Luke was out of it enough to obey, sitting there like a trembling chihuahua, big green eyes moist with tears of pain, greasy hair sticking out in all directions.

Vince grimaced as he grabbed the neckline of Luke's sweat drenched shirt and then stretched it, so he could safely pull it up without getting vomit on his hair, "there you go- no don't-" he didn't get to say anything else before Lucas was falling back against the pillows, grabbing a secondary one and pressing it to his face.

Vin sighed, "okay, sleep shirtless I guess..." he mumbled, bunching up the ruined shirt in a hand and stepping out of the room to throw it in the washing machine.

When he made it back to the room, Lucas was once again, passed out. At least he wasn't awake and in pain, Vince thought sourly, looking at the hour and making a mental note of when he could try the medicine again.

Then he stepped out of the room.

----

"Hey," Lucas voice was hoarse as he emerged from the bedroom, shirtless still, rubbing a hand over his pale face, "I thought I had dreamed about you."

Vince snorted, looking up from his phone, "I'm not that dreamy..." his voice trailed off with concern, "how are you?"

"Better," Luke sat down next to him on the couch, "hangover, I think... When did you get here?"

"This morning," Vince ruffled his best friend's hair, moving to the kitchen and coming back with a gatorade bottle, "bottom's up."

Luke didn't even question it, taking a small sip, hesitant... Then a long gulp when it seemingly stayed down, "what time is it?"

"Uhm, around eight PM," Vince glanced at his phone's clock, "you've been in and out twenty four hours, basically."

"Goddammit," Luke winced, "I missed practice."

Vince stared at him, split between grinning and slapping the man, "never change, Lucas."