#i was planning to do this AFTER season five had aired but then i got bored

[ceesimz]

Lavender

A date that unfortunately doesn't go as planned. (autistic!reader - angst -> fluff)

Reverie series here as always! A verrrry real experience depicted in this one, with some amazing help from @pickledwoso that i am very grateful for, thank youuu <3

“Engel, are you ready to leave?” Alexia sang as she headed out of the bedroom towards where you were at the door rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet, waiting for her.

“Yes, you fool, I've been ready for the past half hour.” You rolled your eyes at her teasingly, laughing when she lightly pawed at your side where she knew you were ticklish. “Come on! You're taking all day.”

“Ay, it is our day-off, I can take my time for once. No rushing, just calm, and me and you.” She gave an alluring smile, sliding her hand down your arm until she intertwined your fingers, then leaned forwards to kiss your forehead. “Are you excited?”

“Very. I love when we do this.” You told her with a squeeze of her hand. The girl grinned, her eyes brimming with excitement and complete happiness seeping from her pores, like the prospect of visiting a farmer's market with her girlfriend was as exciting as a third Ballon d’Or.

“Me too.” She gently knocked your chin up and pecked your lips before brushing back a strand of hair behind your ear. “Now, are we ready, mi vida?”

“For the love of god, yes!”

Any time the club issued some days-off, one of the things highest on the list for yourself and Alexia was visiting the local farmer’s market. You’d buy the best of the best fresh organic products and cook together a dish of food that, combined with the quality time you'd spend with each other, would make for a night-in together that was so much better than going out somewhere. 

These days had become somewhat of a tradition, and with it being the penultimate day of the short summer break after the tournament Alexia had gone to, it was absolute perfection. The last day had no plans apart from relaxing and spending time together before the season started again. You couldn't think of a better way to spend the last bit of time off than a date to a familiar, easy place with Alexia that was sure to give way for a fun afternoon and evening.

With it being the height of summer, Barcelona was especially warm, which was perhaps the first warning sign of the day.

“Ale, you really need to get your car in the garage, your AC sucks.” You groaned, the vents on full blast yet hardly doing a thing to cool you down against the 35 degree air outside. Your window was open and your head rested against the door dramatically, Alexia couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight even if she did feel a little bad about it.

“It’s got a service next week, they will fix it then. Sorry.” She winced, hardly breaking a sweat in the weather she was more than acclimated to whilst you seemed to be struggling before the pair of you had even left the car.

You shrugged her off because it's not exactly her fault her car's AC has been faulty since the spring, and focused all your attention on the life-saving breeze hitting your face as Alexia maneuvered through some tame midday traffic. Hot weather wasn't one of your favourite things in the world, as a matter of fact much more comfortable in minus degree weather with tiny icicles on your eyelashes, but a year into living under the blaze of the Barna sun you had no choice but to put up with it.

Though, your patience with the heat wore off quick. And in its wake, a simmering feeling of restlessness, which should have been yet another warning sign. But you were too deep in your determination for this to be a good day for anything to write you off.

The market was only a short drive away, the two of you having opted out of walking because, well, duh, the weather, and just as the sweat that found its place on your nose no more than five minutes after stepping out of your ice cold shower finally began to evaporate, it came crawling right back the second you got out of the car. Alexia was starting to feel uneasy about the day's plans, and, really, so were you, but you were set on pushing through the constrictive feeling that had settled in your bones when the first bit of heat came your way after leaving your flat. There wouldn't be much time in the coming weeks for a day like this with your girlfriend, you weren't about to wreck it for the both of you.

From where the car was parked to the entrance of the market, you walked in silence, hand in hand across slightly worn stone tiles until the rusted old gates of the park stood before you. Over the threshold of the entrance, paved tiles turning to cobble, you knew the chaos the market had in store for you. You didn’t know if you could handle it. The writing on the wall was in the prickly sensation in your skin that was all too familiar, as was the way every nerve in your body screamed in discomfort, almost like your soul was desperately trying to find a way out of your body.

You ignored it, and headed towards the stalls before Alexia could ask how you were.

This place was familiar; you knew the ins and outs of each stall, you knew where to go, you knew how long it took to get around. It shouldn’t be too hard, right? 

You loved this place, of course it’d be fine. It beamed with energy, with good vibes, with good people. With its colourful displays of the finest fruit and vegetables, it was more than just a market; it was the heartbeat of the surrounding neigbourhoods.

All kinds of scents and aromas swirled around each corner, weaving themselves into the fabrics of people’s clothes and lingering long after they’d left. They were intoxicatingly good, and it was evident in the looks of wonder on everybody’s face, old or young, experienced shopper or recent newcomer. Vendors positioned at every stall or tattered wagon called out their offerings in a chaotic yet melodic mix of Spanish and Catalan, grabbing the nearest fruit or veg to wave around like an auctioneer with a hammer, the only use for it being to wave off the flies dancing tauntingly around their goods. 

Locals haggled over prices with the farmers they’d come to know just as well as their own family; their loud and boisterous back-and-forth banter may have sounded like arguing to unknowing tourists, but to everyone else it was understood as just some good-humoured ribbing that they all delighted in. It was more of a shuffle than a walk throughout the place thanks to the tourists that seemed to stop in the middle of the aisles every second, clearly oblivious to the well-practiced dance of the locals. Elderly ladies pulled their clueless esposos around with one arm whilst they carried their wicker basket in the other, the woven willow groaning under the weight of the countless ingredients to be used in that night’s meal.

For a moment, as you paused off to the side whilst Alexia caught up with one of the stall owners, a fisherman with his catches of the week proudly on display, which you knew your girlfriend would end the conversation by buying enough fish meat to feed the five thousand, you took a moment to breathe. Everybody seemed relieved of their life’s burdens here, gathered closely in one space that was steeped in the essence of the world’s simplest pleasures; flavour, tradition, and community. Only, the smile that was usually imprinted on your face whenever you came was no more than a distant memory. 

Despite the fairly shadowed area, considering the park was fenced in by sporadic trees that skimmed the roofs of buildings that showed off the city’s beautiful architecture, it was still insufferably hot. It radiated off of the ground, rebounded off the buildings around, and the flurry of structures meant there was no wind breaking through to give a cool Mediterranean breeze like you had before. 

Alexia seemed none the wiser, enraptured by the surroundings like it was her first time there, her head on a swivel and marveling at the mouth-wateringly exceptional variety of things to choose from. You hadn’t really been taking it in, your eyes stuck to the back of her head as you followed her through, waiting on shaking legs whenever she laughed and joked with each worker she bought from. 

This labyrinth of every cook’s dream was well and truly alive, but you weren’t. You couldn’t absorb the intense feeling of belonging and sonder you got whenever you came here. It was too much. The thought ate away at you, as with every fly that landed on your skin or every person that brushed against you, you became more and more on edge. 

All the different smells, the different sounds, the crowd of people, they didn’t spark those usual feelings of contentment and peace that transpired for you normally. Instead, they felt oppressive, like they were attacking your senses. 

The concoction of aromas forced themselves inside your nose and overloaded you completely, the squeamish smell of fish and the fiery linger of hundreds of kinds of herbs and spices bringing on a pounding headache. Every squeak of a wicker basket as the willow was put under more pressure could have been a gunshot for all you knew, the way it echoed around the tunnels of your ears. Anytime someone briefly put a hand on you as they moved past had you flinching, hating the unexpected contact as it was the last thing you needed in such a situation.

You didn’t find any comfort whatsoever in how Alexia’s hand never left yours for more than a minute, when normally it was something that grounded you. Her usually funny comments and little facts and point-outs of detail about her ‘second home’ (the name she had given it as she’d been coming here since she was young) didn’t make you feel any brighter, in fact you were pretty sure you missed most of them.

And as every minute passed, it appeared to get busier and busier, until it started to feel like you were in some kind of mosh pit, people bouncing off of you with every turn only for the next one to come along no more than a second later. You couldn’t hear a word Alexia was speaking, the once calming mix of languages turned into a booming echo of voices that were so close they seemed to be knocking on the bone of your skull, yet too distant for you to make out what anyone was saying, making it all so. much. worse.

Every voice, every footstep, every hearty laughter and every scrape of wood along the floor grated against your ears, all noises around amplified to immeasurable heights. The space was far too loud and far too crowded – each sensation you felt blurred into the next until it became impossible to separate from one another. But you did feel how each individual muscle tensed, from your legs to your shoulders, as Alexia continued to pull you through the market. 

You were hyperaware of everything around you and it soon became unbearable. But Alexia was happy, she chatted away like nothing was happening, comfortable and content as her canvas bag brimmed with stuff you didn’t even realise she had bought. You soldiered on, or at least tried to.

Until, your breathing began to quicken, your lungs unable to take in any of the stuffy air you walked through, your chest tightening in a way that only caused you to panic impossibly more. Each piece of fabric from your clothes grazed against your skin like a hundred scratches in a single second, your shirt and shorts beginning to feel like they were getting tighter with each step you took. And when the claustrophobia, the feeling like there was no escape at all, began to really set in, the day was over.

Your resolve had completely eroded. You tried to focus on grounding yourself — reminding yourself this was a safe space, but that was an empty claim to make to your shredded composure. You tried convincing your mind that Alexia’s hand in yours was comforting, when it only felt constrictive, her hand wholly enveloping yours like a snake, leaving no room to breathe. You clenched and unclenched your fist in time with your breaths, but you couldn't even inhale for a second before your mind went into overdrive. All the tools you relied on before were inadequate in that moment. The rational part of your brain slipped away, instead replaced by an instinctive need to escape. 

Surges of anger, panic, anxiety, fear, they all rose uncontrollably at once. Your jaw clenched, your free hand curled into a tight fist, and your vision turned hazy as your world dissolved into one indistinct blur.

The snapping point came abruptly. Perhaps it was a shrill laugh nearby, the clatter of a crate being dropped, or an impatient shove from someone trying to pass by. It was the smallest thing, but it tipped the scale far out of anybody’s control. You were alone in that moment. Trapped completely in your mind.

You missed how Alexia called your name over and over, how her hand nudged yours to desperately try to grasp your attention. It was only when her hands grabbed both your forearms that you were brought back down, but only for half a millisecond, before it all went south.

“What?!” You snapped at her, jumping back out of her touch. 

As a result, there were about thirty pairs of eyes on you. Everybody around paused, your sharp shout cutting through the buzz of the market, and it went so quiet that every flutter of a fly’s wing and every creek of wood could be heard. 

You took another step back when Alexia came towards you, a worrisome look on her face with her hands out in front of her like she was trying to not spook an untrusting animal in front of her. She rushed out some words of reassurance that fell into the background with all the other noises around that had picked up again, the market-goers losing interest in a seemingly harmless situation. They didn’t register within you, nor did her intentions. Your mind was far too good at playing tricks on you, convincing you of things that were far from the truth but in the moment felt like gospel.

There was no way out of where you were, both in the physical and the mental sense, and that was the main factor in the eruption that had just happened. With so many emotions coursing through you, there was an intense itch to find a release from them all. So before you realised, your arms crossed over your chest, hands on your upper arms just above your elbow, and you began to roughly palm, rub, grab at the skin there, needing a distraction from the volume of your mind and the world, whilst also desperately trying to get the movement to act as a release of the crushing press of the feelings inside of you. 

If you were alone at that time, god only knows what would have happened. Fortunately you weren’t.

The next time Alexia touched you was the featherlight weight of her hand on your lower back, the minor contact enough to lead you through the winding paths of the market. Your legs ran on autopilot, but you stumbled with every few steps, eyes too blurry to see the bumps and dips in the cobbles underneath your feet. There were probably tears down your face, though you’d reached such a broken point that your body was just… numb. You weren’t in control of anything anymore, hadn’t been for a while, but this was a new extremity. You weren’t even present in your own mind. Just an innocent, unknowing passenger in the car crash that had come out of nowhere.

Somehow, with her own hands trembling from concern, Alexia managed to lead you out of the chaos of the market to those same rusted, paint-chipped gates from earlier— the entrance of the park area. She was lost on what to do or say, but rationally she knew the only thing that would work for you right now was getting you home. 

“I will drive us back to your flat, back home, okay?” 

You gave her no indication that you heard her, which she was expecting, though you had heard the one word you were in dire need of and it was the first thing so far that managed to break through into your overwhelmed mind. Your hands were still moving roughly against the skin of your arms, sure to leave marks afterwards, but Alexia knew if she attempted to stop you, it’d only make matters worse. She had to get you home. Seeing you like this was breaking her.

It took a concerningly small amount of effort to guide you to the car; you were pliant and mindless, the exhaustion having fully taken over the minute you left the crowded space. She opened the door for you, helped you into the seat, and put the belt on. You leaned your head back against the seat rest and stared straight ahead. Whether it’d help or not, Alexia wasn’t sure. But she had to do one thing, more for the sake of her sanity than yours. With a quiet call of your name, she gently put a hand under your chin and turned you so you faced her.

“I’ll take you home and look after you. You will be okay.” She whispered, tentatively brushing away some of the tears still on your cheeks with her thumb. Her words were a sentiment for her as much as they were for you. “You’ll be okay soon.”

—

Next thing you knew, you were in your bed, lay on your side with your weighted blanket over you and Alexia nowhere to be seen.

It was definitely the calm after the storm. The room was mostly dark apart from the light that bled through the curtains which were closed, you could hear the quiet whir of the AC as well as the dull hum of traffic on the street below, but that was about it. It was a stark contrast to how things were before.

You don’t exactly remember getting home after what happened after the market, but what you did know was that though Alexia wasn’t in the room, she had been at some point, because you felt her love in the way she made sure everything was properly set up for you. The AC hadn’t been on before you left earlier and it only could have come back on by someone turning it on. The curtains were open that morning, whereas now they were drawn. And last time you checked, your blanket was still in the dryer, waiting to be taken out when you got back. 

Everything you felt earlier still echoed faintly inside your head and chest, but the weighted blanket over you helped to anchor you back to your life again, rather than the chaos you were drowning in not so long ago. Your mind was convoluted, thoughts jumbled, and you flitted from one shattered fragment of insecurity to the other. You were simply too exhausted to hold onto any of them, emotionally and mentally drained. Though, you still tried to identify what you were feeling— was it anger? Shame? Embarrassment? You couldn’t put a finger on it. 

Your hands still shook, your chest still shuddered with every breath. Your clothes still felt scratchy and overbearing, just less so now that you lay in the aftermath of it all. Instead of focusing on that, you drifted your attention to the feeling of the blanket on you; you focused on its texture, its softness, the heaviness of it and how it draped over you and helped to extinguish the flame that was overstimulation and overwhelm. These small but familiar details offered a tiny foothold in the mirror maze of your mind that you were still trying to escape from, only for the ruined reflection of you at the market to be shown back to you.

The longer you spent in that position, a deep, bone-level weariness quietly consumed you, like every aspect of you right down to your soul had been drained. But even still, your mind continued its hyperactive ways, replaying the day’s events over and over like a faulty film reel. The memory of it isn’t the slightest bit cohesive, it was just flashes of moments— the suffocating press of people from every direction, clamour of voices, the overloading mixture of scents. You alternated between frustration and exasperation, wanting to desperately forget what happened whilst not being able to move on from the embarrassment of it. 

However, the strain of it slowly began to dissipate with each minute you spent back at home in bed, a safe space where there were no expectations, where time was temporarily unimportant, and where there were no watchful eyes or scathing glares at the disruption you’d caused. And eventually, you felt like you had gained back control of your mind again. It was quieter then; the world felt muted, less aggressive, though you could feel that you were still wary of your surroundings because of how everything ambushed you earlier.

You weren’t fully recovered, you still felt heavy and your body ached due to the tension in your muscles and joints when it all came falling down, and you weren’t sure how much time had passed but the sun sat a little lower on the horizon when you finally felt able to get out of bed. The desire for time alone had gone, you needed something else then, and at this point of the relationship you felt comfortable enough to seek exactly what you needed without giving it a second thought. 

The door to your room creaked like it always did when you opened it, your apartment mostly silent save for the occasional huff from the kitchen as the person you were looking for busied herself with any chore she could think of as she waited patiently for you. 

You didn’t quite know what to say, but one of the best things about your relationship was that often in times like this, words weren’t a necessity. So you bypassed her and headed straight for the sofa, sitting in the corner and curling your feet underneath you, almost like you were making yourself as small as possible. And, just as you expected, not a minute went by before the blonde headed over, trying to disguise the worry she felt by giving a tight-lipped smile that was more on the amusing side than the reassuring one.

When she sat down, however, she left a gap between you both and perched only on the edge, which wasn’t what you wanted. One shared glance later and Alexia was smiling properly this time, shuffling to sit back against the cushions and beckoning you over with a small wave of her hand. With a sheepish but slightly triumphant look on your face, you moved along the couch and chose to sit sideways on her lap, one of her arms immediately wrapping around your waist as the hand of the other landed just above your knee. She pulled you close to her, and you settled into her with a relieved sigh, indescribably glad to have the final piece of the puzzle to self-regulation in your possession.

For some time, the pair of you didn’t speak, only relishing in the comfort you both needed after the day that had been had. At some point, Alexia noticed the redness to your skin from earlier and subconsciously brought a hand up to one of your arms, her thumb gently tracing over them with a frown on her face. She felt compelled to speak then.

“Please, engel, don’t put yourself through uncomfortable situations just to make me happy. If you asked me to, I would have taken you home earlier in a heartbeat.” The midfielder said carefully, panicking a little when she heard you sigh before calming when you buried your face in her neck.

“I didn’t really know it was going to be uncomfortable until it was already happening.” You told her in a mumbled, downbeat tone that made her hug you tighter against her. She contemplated her next words, wondering whether it was wise to voice them or not, before deciding that you’d hate it if you found out she’d kept her feelings from you.

“I’ve never seen you like that before.” Her fear and sadness was evident when she spoke, matching the frown still on her face and the furrow to her brow. You pressed your lips to the skin of her jaw in a somewhat apologetic gesture, which made her feel a little bad. “We’re both okay though, mi amor. I love you and we’re okay. I’m not mad or anything, this isn’t your fault. I don’t want you to feel guilty. It’s over now, it’s in the past, and we’re here together now.”

It might have been a minor reminder, but it relieved a lot of the remaining anxieties and insecurities you had. Even though she made sure you knew she never judged you for anything, you were only human, and sometimes the devil on your shoulder got the best of you. So, to hear her say she knew it wasn’t your fault and that she wasn’t angry, it was… very needed.

The mix of physical touch and words of affirmation never failed to work wonders for you. The period of time after an event like earlier was a delicate time to say the least, where your mind and your self-esteem was easily swayed by whatever reaction waited for you afterwards. Having Alexia be so welcoming, non-judgemental, caring and adoring even after what she’d witnessed made a world of a difference.

“Better day tomorrow?” You said shyly after moving back to look at her. She shook her head at first, which greatly confused you, before she smiled brightly, softly, reassuringly, and leaned forwards to kiss your temple.

“Better evening tonight after a bad day. And then a very good day tomorrow.” Her words were a little skewed, probably lost in translation, but you understand what she was getting at and it warmed your heart all the same.

It was important to you then, that you voiced your thoughts from just a moment ago. She had to know how important she was to you.

“Thank you, Ale. For everything.” You started, laughing quietly at the puzzled expression on her face. “You always know what to do, what to say. You always make me feel better after a day like this and I don’t know how you do it but… you changed my life.”

Her reaction was the sweetest. Her cheeks blushed red and she turned away for a moment with a tiny disbelieving shake of her head.

“I don’t know about that, cariño.” She murmured, but you weren’t having it. You put a hand on her cheek and turned her face back to you, ensuring she met your gaze before you spoke again.

“You did. I really mean it. I think about it a lot, how you’ve changed me, how I see myself because of you and how you treat me.” You paused for a moment, smiling up at her as her eyes silently urged you to continue. “I… value myself more because of how you value me. I don’t tell you enough how grateful I am for you and what you really mean to me. You’re the greatest person I have ever met.”

The normally sure and confident captain was rendered speechless in that moment, completely caught off guard and lost for words. How she could ever match the gravity and beauty of your words, she didn’t know. But they meant so much more to her than she knew she could ever express.

Ale ducked her head down for a moment as she really took in your words, before she lifted it back up again a moment later, with tears in her eyes. 

If only you knew how much you meant to her too.

“You’re my favourite person in the world, you know that?” She said with a pointed look and a raised eyebrow, almost accusing you of foolishly being uncertain about the fact that she stated so definitively. You knew she only did that to deflect the softness of her words a little. So, you just smiled, and tucked your head back into her neck and closed your eyes, completely at peace. “My favourite person in the whole world. You changed my life too.”

—

i really really tried my best to encapsulate the autistic experience of being overstimulated and overwhelmed in such a place here but i have no idea how well it comes across to a large audience. but for me and probably others, this is the reality, no matter how much you can plan and prepare and be excited for something, it can spiral out of your control so quickly and it's definitely a downer when it happens. hope this is somewhat understandable, im gonna go hibernate out of fear now, thank you v much for reading :)

[mentally-gone002]

i’m right here…

summary: spencer is really upset about a decision you made in the field.

warnings: angstyyy!!

a/n: here i am with another spencer x reader💃 also i was actually on the cusp of death(sleep) while proofing this one so… if there’s anything i missed that’s mb lmaooo (yo girls tired af) also!!! this isn’t supposed to be within any specific season or anything it’s kinda just out there!!

———————————————————————

the door of spencer’s apartment was slammed behind you. he sounded angry the from way he did it, rightfully so, but you’ve never seen him this angry. you didn’t get the chance to fully react before he was grabbing your wrist to pull you away to his bathroom. he gestured for you to sit on the vanity counter. 

you stayed quiet. spencer’s face was contorted with pinched brows, clenched teeth and narrowed eyes as he seethed silently, reaching to carefully peel a piece of lightly blood soaked bandage from your forehead. he tossed it into the garbage can and started to clean the blood from your head. 

you’d gotten injured in the field hours earlier. you’d gone after the unsub the team was after because you thought you could detain her. of course, that plan of yours failed, ending with your forehead falling victim to the back of the gun the woman had. luckily morgan was there to detain her before she took a shot at you on the ground. 

spencer had been silent towards you ever since he heard of how you disobeyed direct orders from hotch. 

it was strange to not hear him talk for this long. it was going on five hours. five hours too long in your opinion. 

as he finished replacing your bandage you spoke up. “i’m sorry.” was all you said. it would probably be useless because all the other attempts to make him talk to you were just filled with more silence and maybe a disappointed look. he sighed heavily though as he looked away. 

“i don’t understand why you couldn’t just listen to hotch.” his brown eyes bore into yours when he said that. 

you shrugged. “i though i could catch her.” 

spencer got visibly more upset than he was before in a second. “you though you could catch her?” he asked. “she pointed a gun at your head.” his voice grew slightly louder.

you swallowed thickly and hunched down at the volume. “i didn’t get killed.” you muttered. 

he scoffed, stepping away from where you sat on the vanity in amusement. his jaw was clenched hard. “that isn’t the point here. you disobeyed an order and put yourself in danger.”

your head snapped toward him. “you think i don’t know that? this job, it makes us all put ourselves in danger!” your voice rose slightly. 

spencer clenched his fists at his side and breathed. “so that just gives you the right to rush into danger the second you want?” he wondered. 

you slid off the vanity to stand against it instead. “if that means that we get the bad guys, then yes!” 

his anger spiked, eyes widening and chest puffing out due to a heavy intake of air. “but you can’t just go off on your own whenever you want! especially when our unsub was as erratic as she was!” he explained with his hands waving in the air as a way of adding some emphases. 

“i wasn’t on my own, reid! morgan was right there!” you reminded him, stepping close as he stepped back, almost bumping the wall behind him. spencer seemed to be getting more agitated by the minute, especially when you called him by his last name.

“oh, okay! so since morgan was there i guess this is okay?” he asked. 

you scoffed, rolling your eyes. “no. but he didn’t listen to hotch either, so don’t put this all on me!” 

“morgan isn’t here right now, so we aren’t talking about what he did,” spencer told you, “we’re talking about what you did!” he snapped, index finger pointed at your chest. 

you sighed heavily with a pang of guilt that intensified. it had been there since the case had ended. “why are you making this such a big deal? i already know that i was stupid to do what i did, i apologized to hotch, i apologized to you more than once, and i know that i risked my life. drop it.” you walked out of the bathroom into spencer’s dark apartment. 

he followed on your heels, not finished with the conversation yet. “drop it?” he repeated with sarcasm. you didn’t know he knew how to use sarcasm but there it was. “i’m not going to drop this!” 

“well you should!” you spun on your heels with your voice louder than you meant it to go. 

spencer stopped in his tracks with evident perplexity. “why? are you telling me to not be worried about you?” he asked. 

you nodded. “that’s exactly what i’m telling you, spencer! i’m safe and standing in front of you right now!” you stepped closer to him, craning your neck to look up at him. “i really expected you to act differently after this case. i thought you’d come up to me and help me or maybe hug me and say something along the lines of ‘im glad you’re alright’ but i guess not because all i got was the silent treatment.” you kept staring at his eyes. 

he looked stunned and not angry for the first time this evening. “of course i’m glad you’re alright!” she snapped. “i’m glad you’re standing here right now, but it’s only because of dumb luck!” 

you rolled your eyes. how was the this dense  and also a genius at the same time? “no, it’s because i’m trained for this job and back there… that was me using my training. so i’m sorry i was doing exactly what i’m employed to do!” you shouted. 

spencer shouted back, “so to you, doing your job means that you get to not follow orders?” he asked with heavy breaths. “do you realize how risky that is?” 

“yes, i do.” you nodded, rubbing your eyes in exhaustion. “but im safe, and the monsters are in jail. that’s all that matters.” 

“what about me?” he asked. 

you crossed your arms. “what about you?” you wondered. 

“you really don’t know what it’s like to see someone you really care about after they’ve almost died.” spencer stepped closer and his voice got quiet. 

you frowned and tilted your head to the side to keep your eyes on his. he looked away at the floor. “i don’t doubt it was scary, but i’m here, spencer.” you smiled softly at him. “i’m right here.” 

he let his eyes meet yours again. the inside of his cheek was held between his teeth as he contemplated what to do next. he knew he was being too hard on you but he just didn’t want to loose you. instead of opening his mouth to say something else he stepped forward and wound his arms around you, holding you against him in a tight embrace. his face hid away in the crook of your neck. your arms didn’t go around his back in a returning embrace immediately, still on alert for the fight to continue. but it didn’t. he breathed shakily before whispering, “don’t ever do that again.” his voice was low and slightly muffled by your shoulder. 

“okay… okay, i won’t.” you rubbed your hands over the expanse of his back in a comforting motion. 

you stood there in each others arms for a few minutes, just relishing in the feeling of being held. it was also a silent apology from both of you, a reassuring apology. 

“you promise?” he asked. 

you nodded, closing your eyes. “i promise.” you muttered. “just don’t yell at me again.” you told him while pulling away just enough to see him. your hands rested on his waist. 

spencer nodded as he took your hands into his own, letting them hang between you both. his eyes were on the floor. “i’m sorry… i was just… still on edge from the case. i can’t stand the thought of loosing you.” he whispered. 

you craned your neck in a direction so that you’d find spencer’s eyes. “you won’t loose me.” you assured him, squeezing his hands. “and i won’t do that again okay? it hurt enough as it is.” you gestured to your head a little. 

he nodded as relief washed over his worried mind. he squeezed your hands a little before dropping them and wrapping his arms around your frame again. he breathed you in a few times, just to really be sure you were there. safe in his arms. safe in his apartment. 

“it’s late… or early.” you pulled away slowly from him. spencer nodded with a quick brush of your hair behind your ear. 

he glanced at his watch. “yeah. it’s been a long day and you need all the rest you can get.” he told you. 

you nodded. “will sleeping make my gash heal faster?” your hand was in his as you lead him to his bedroom. 

spencer nodded. “actually yes, getting good amounts of sleep can assure your hormones will rebuild that broken tissue because cortisol levels lower while your asleep.” he replied, rambling with information that made you smile. 

“okay, boy genius,” he pulled a face at the same carried on by the whole BAU team, “let’s get to sleep then.” 

he nodded and followed you with getting changed out of your clothes and climbing into his bed with the comforter pulled up to her nose. he grinned at you while he laid in front of you, hand searching to hold yours under the covers. 

you pulled spencer’s hand to your lips. “night, doctor reid.” you murmured, tiredly teasing him.

he smiled at that and closed his eyes. “good night.”

[formulawolff]

the (not so subtle) art of a crush - t.w.

pairing: female driver!reader x toto wolff

word count: 777

warnings: toto being down bad, some teasing, sexual innuendos, one-sided yearning, yadayadayada

a/n: this was a request made by an anon (i believe!) this is also sort of a spin-off of fanboy behavior, which i absolutely adored writing. i think yearning (and well.. down bad) toto is my favorite toto to write! i hope y'all enjoy! <3

"and tell me," the driver's accent is crisp as he licks his lips, "why do you need help creating an instagram account again?"

"nothing major," a figure shrugs, fiddling with a loose thread in his wrinkled white polo, "i just want to stay in the loop. that's all."

"toto," a new voice chimes in, "you have never once mentioned wanting an instagram, or any social media really, until now. what is going on?"

"nothing major," toto wolff exhales, rolling his eyes, "you all have it, so why can't i?"

"because you're ancient?" lewis hamilton scoffs, arching a brow, "you're probably going to need a step-by-step tutorial on how to navigate the platform."

"i think i can figure that one out myself you know," toto hisses, jaw clenching as his drivers stare blankly, "if five year-olds can do it, i can do it."

"let me see your phone," george russell extends an arm, waving his fingers, "i'll get your account set up."

"i-i," the team principal stammers, heat billowing into his cheeks, "i-i don't know if i necessarily need help with that."

"are you blushing?" lewis purses his lips, a devious smirk forming as the dots connect, "mate, do you have something in there that you don't want us to see?"

only approximately one hundred and two screenshots of a certain williams driver. three or four videos. all of which were screen recordings from various interviews.

his cherished clips. ones he watched every night before he drifted off.

all of which were not tucked away into the hidden folder of his camera roll.

speaking of which, he may have to figure out how to do that. with three kids, an ex-wife, and two nosy drivers, his phone was an easy target. he probably needed to set up a passcode as well.

the lengths he was going to over a crush. a fucking crush.

well, was it a really a crush?

or more like an infatuation?

that was a question for another time. he had two drivers in his office at the moment, circling around him like vultures, eager to pick him apart.

"nothing of your interest," toto retorts, in a vain attempt to maintain his composure, "nothing, really."

"got someone's nudes in there?" lewis coos, tilting his head, "or even worse, a sex tape?"

"lewis," george brings a hand to his temple, "what on earth is wrong with you?"

"what, mate?" lewis throws his hands in the air, "i'm just giving him shit."

"shit he clearly does not want," george mutters, "toto, if you need help setting up an account, just facetime me. don't try to text me. it's much easier to explain over a call than written directions."

"or he can just go on wikihow," lewis offers, "they have guides on just about everything."

oh, really?

did they have a guide on how to navigate the unbearable weight of yearning for a woman thirty years your junior? a woman on a rival team? a crush so bad that it was beginning to snake its way into every aspect of your life? consume your every waking thought?

a crush so intense that you had already spoken to members of the williams crew?

his next target was james, whom he was planning on meeting and speaking with after the next press conference. that was in about a week's time, at third grand prix of the season.

fuck, this was embarrassing, really.

but he wanted more.

actually, he needed more.

he craved it.

he needed to gather all of the possible information and intel as he could. her likes and dislikes. her favorite foods and the ones that were so vile they made her throw up. what kept her up at night. what music she preferred to listen to on race day. what drinks she indulged in. what animals she loved. what made her so unbelievably pissed off she couldn't think straight.

he wanted to catch a glimpse inside of her mind.

all of the things that could possibly buzz around inside of that beautiful head.

really, he just wanted to learn what she was composed of.

her childhood memories, the ones she spoke of with that sweet fondness in her voice. the delicate aspects of her life that she cherished, beaming from ear to ear. the things she feared. how she expressed her love. the people she adored.

everything.

he wanted to know it all.

and following her instagram account, along with her various other socials would prove to be the first step in accessing that plethora of information.

at least it was a step in the right direction.

even if his drivers were giving him hell for it.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ taglist ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

@noooway555 @s-awturn @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @lokideservesahug @fore45fore @eattothebeatt @statuewoman @sarah10r-blog @lavenderandlace @racecardilfs @bblouifford @irishmanwhore @jhobi18 @roseandtulips @simply-the-best23

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Chapter 25: Are Family Reunions Always This Awkward?

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy. This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter twenty five of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)

Word Count: 5.5K

Warnings: I'm gonna label this one 18+ because it's got some heavier things in it, a few more sexual references, and it's kind of dark (more sad). Dark themes, Angst, Cursing, Sexual References, A little bit of heavy making out, Family Problems- A LOT of family problems, Homelander being a freak (he is), References to rape (It's only for a moment, but it doesn't make it any less terrible), Homelander is really bad in this chapter, Oedipus Complex (It's Homelander), Threatening, Past Trauma, Death Mentioned, Kidnapping. Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, completely a little OOC. Soldier Boy is really all you need as a warning.

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

Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

A/N: One last warning, Homelander is a freak. Honestly the guy creeps me out in general, but in this he's especially creepy. AND It did not bring me joy to write this. I struggled with it, but I think it’s the thing that has to happen to move this story forward. And this chapter legit has the biggest tone shift in the UNIVERSE of tone shifts.

“Are you angry with her?” Ben’s voice rumbles up through his chest as you lay beside him. You were sharing the same pillow, faces inches apart, breathing the same air. His hand was tracing shapes into the small of your back, arm draped heavy over the curve of your hip, but it was a comforting weight. It reminded you that he was there and that he wanted to be, and you were getting used to that.

"A little." You breathe with a frown. Your hands are locked at the back of Ben's neck, gently dragging through the hair at the nape of his neck the way you know he likes. He groans softly at the movement, leaning further towards you as you do. "But now learning about everything that happened with Charlie, I get it. He was manipulating her the same way that Vought manipulated us for so long, the same way that they manipulated Homelander as he grew up."

Ben frowns at the mention of your son.

Rosemary had been calmer about the reveal of Homelander as her brother, but you figured that maybe you needed to let her wrap her head around it.

Maybe she was more focused on what Vought had done to me.

After Rosemary's confession this morning the day had been spent trying to figure out what you were going to do about your son. Butcher, Hughie, and Legend had been just as surprised at the news. And you knew that Butcher was waiting for some kind of hesitation to proceed with the plan to kill Homelander, but he wouldn't find any.

Homelander needed to be stopped, he was a monster, and you knew that there wasn't a shred of humanity left. It broke your heart to admit that to yourself, that your son was a monster, but it was true. Homelander became the thing that Vought warped and twisted him into. There was no semblance of someone that you could care about left, no reminder of humanity in his eyes.

At least that was what you told yourself, and it was what you told Ben, but deep down you wished that you were wrong. You wished that maybe there was something left behind, something redeemable.

He grew up without a family in a cold lab, raised by monsters who did with him what they wished.

You think to reason with yourself. Maybe it was because you remembered what Ben said that Vought tried to do to him. It was true of course, Vought had tried to do the same thing to Ben and you when you took the serum. And maybe it did work on Ben a little bit, the façade that he adopted for Soldier Boy did seem to lean in the direction of warm-blooded American symbol that Vought wanted, but Ben was different and so were you.

"If you're not sure about this, we can try to talk to him." Ben whispers leaning his forehead against yours.

"I know. We can try, but I don't think Butcher is really going to go for that plan."

"I don't give a fuck about him. I only care about you."

"Uh-huh?" You smirk. "You don't care about anyone else?"

"Huh?"

"No body else? Because you and Lou looked pretty cozy earlier playing go fish."

They had. Lou had won and Ben was trying his best not to be upset that he got beat at a card game by a four year old.

"That little girl is a shark. Just like someone else I know." Ben snorts out a laugh and pulls you closer to him, so much so that you can feel the ghost of his smile against your lips.

“Well I never-“ You smile nudging your nose into the space between your faces.

"Fine, you caught me. I do care about her, and I care about Rosemary. Even if she does fucking hate me.”

“She doesn’t hate you as much as she thinks she does.”

“Hmm.”

"But I knew it." Your lips brush against his. "You're such a big softie."

Ben rolls his eyes. "Only for you Sweetheart." His hand stops tracing shapes against the back of your shirt and instead flattens against your back to pull you tighter against him. Your fingers thread through the locks of his hair, loving the way he feels pressed up against you, loving how after all these years it feels the same way and how it still feels like he was made for you and that you were made for him. When you were with Ben you didn't feel fat, because every soft part of you molded against the hardness of his muscles so perfectly that it made you feel like you belonged together.

"You know, I don't really like go fish all that much." Ben's smirks, kissing you back enthusiastically, his beard scratching against your skin in a way that makes everything else fade into the background. "I wouldn't mind playing some strip poker with you though."

"Oh really? What a surprise. Because you've always been better at poker than me."

"That's exactly why it would be fun." He rolls you over on your back, his large body over yours, his hips fitting between your legs, bringing them up around his waist with his free hand as he keeps kissing you.

"You're a man of simple tastes I guess." You laugh into his mouth, tightening your grip in his hair, tugging at the strands.

"Nothing simple about you doll." He all but growls against your lips. "And the only thing that I want is you."

The kiss deepens enough that you can feel yourself quickly losing yourself in him, but that's the way it always seemed when he kissed you. It felt like you held your arms out and spun in a circle until you were drunk and your head was spinning so fast nothing else seemed to fit, but Him. Time seemed to slow, the earth stopped spinning, everything around you was gone and the only thing left behind was Ben. You wondered if it was like that for him.

"Fuck you taste like strawberries." Ben mutters into your mouth.

Of course you did. You had ice cream before you came to bed, taking bites from Lou's bowl when she wasn't looking.

Ben tasted like the vanilla ice cream he’d had that he chased down with a glass of whiskey. You could feel yourself getting drunk on the sweet and vintage taste, sinking further into the mattress with his comfortable weight on top of you.

You moan into his mouth, moving your hands from his hair to grip his shoulders so tight that Ben could feel the bruises from your fingertips forming against his skin, but he didn’t care. You knew he liked it, knew that he liked that you were the only one strong enough to do that to him. He drags his lips down to kiss along your jawline, finally finding the place just in its shadow to suck another mark to replace the one that had faded a few days ago.

“Ben-“ You giggle, feeling the tickle of his beard against your skin. “You’ve really got to stop doing that.”

The words held no power, you didn’t want him to stop, didn't want any of this to end. It wasn't just because it felt good, it was because it felt right, the two of you together finally.

“Doing what?” He smirks up at you innocently.

Sometimes you hated how pretty he was, it meant that he got away with whatever he wanted and you were along for the ride. But in a pinch it was a good thing. When the two of you were children, Ben's good looks and charms had gotten the two of you out of trouble more than once.

“You keep giving me hickeys and it’s going to scar our daughter for life. Not to mention Lou asked me what it was today and I wasn’t about to have THAT conversation with a four year old.”

“Don’t pretend you don’t like it.” He drops his lips back down to the same spot. “I remember everything you like.”

His words are breathed against your skin, caressing something deep inside that makes you shudder beneath him.

Immediately you're transported back to the night of your birthday, when Ben made love to you and made you feel seen, understood, and loved for the first time in your life. The memories of that night wash over you in full color, moments that you wished to relive over and over again with Ben.

“Did you think I would forget?” Ben purrs as he continues to kiss along the hollow your throat, igniting something that you hadn’t felt in forty years. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget that night. Ever be able to forget how it felt to finally make love to you, to finally have you the way I wanted for so long, and to finally show you how much you mean to me.”

He raises his head from your throat, hands gripping your waist tightly to keep you wrapped around his body. His green eyes shine with mischief, his dark hair falling forward into his face as he stares down at you, seeing through you like no one ever has. His expression softens. “Because you do y/n. You mean everything to me” His voice is quiet, but it doesn’t make what he said any less important.

You gently cup his cheeks, pulling his lips back down in a fierce kiss that burns through your body. Ben smiles into your mouth, letting his guard down and as he does you leverage your weight to roll him over on his back so now you’re in his lap and he’s staring up at you, his eyes shining with something that almost makes you grab the front of his shirt and haul him back up to you for another kiss.

You smirk widely at him, hands planted against his toned stomach. He’d gone to bed without wearing a shirt again and you were far from complaining. You lean forward, your lips barely brushing his ear. “What makes you think I’ve forgotten what you like?”

“Fuck sweetheart. I won’t complain about anything you do to me.” Ben groans. His hands are holding on to your hips, pushing up your shirt to rest on the curves of your pelvis. "As long as I get to be with you, I'll be happy."

You kiss along his jaw, feeling the heat of his body radiating up through where you’re touching.

“Sweetheart?” Ben’s voice is strained, hands splayed wide over your hips. The roughness of his palms is comforting and familiar, the warmth of his skin  soothing. No one else ever seemed to be as warm as him. 

 Your lips drop to his throat as you kiss along the skin loving the tickle of stubble against the tip of your nose. “I’m a little busy at the moment baby.” You hum against him  as you begin to such a mark into the hollow of his throat, because you’re the only one able to do that to him.

Ben moans softly as you do it, shuddering below you, and it makes you feel powerful that you’re able to do that, to make him fall apart and make him lose himself in you the way he always seems to consume you.

“Y/n-“ Ben breathes  as you wrap yourself tighter around him, continuing to suck on the same spot. “Hmm?” You pull back to look at his face, raising a hand to push back the dark strands that have fallen into his eyes with a gentle hand.

You still were having a hard time with that despite everything. That Ben genuinely wanted to be yours the way you were always his. Somewhere deep down the little girl you used to be was finally content, finally able to hold the little boy she had loved for decades.

“I never said thank you.” He murmurs sitting up so you slide back into his lap and he’s able to hold you to him, his arms circling your waist.

“For?” Your arms link behind his neck. You can’t stop the soft smile that pulls at your lips when you look at your best friend. It was weird to think that you’d known each other so long and not know what you were missing, not know how perfect this would feel.

He kisses you again. “You always take care of me. Always have taken care of me.” Ben drops his lips to brush against your shirt over the scar the bullet left behind just over your heart.

You knew he was thinking about the day that you took a bullet for him and you wondered how much he thought about that. If the memory haunted him, if all the memories of your deaths haunted him.

“Well somebody’s got to. You’re a mess.”

“Not when I’m with you.”

“No.” You say happily keeping his head pressed against your chest. “That’s because I do my job. It's difficult sometimes but-"

"Shut up." Ben groans.

It's quiet for a few minutes as you stay there, gently stroking your fingertips in the way you know he likes, the dark strands shuffling through your hands.

He breathes deeply, as if he wishes to breathe you in, to pull you into him until there's nothing left but him and you. "I missed you so much Sweetheart."

"I missed you too Ben."

"And I-" His voice cracks with emotion, his next words getting caught in the back of his throat.

"Ben?" You cup his cheek worried. His bright green eyes have dimmed and you see something pass through them that looks almost like shame. "What's wrong?"

"I'm so sorry."

"What did I say about apologizing?"

"Not for Countess. I'm sorry if the way you loved me ever felt like a burden.” He swallows.

You remember the words you said to Rosemary earlier about what love should be like.

“Ben- do you want me to tell you the truth?”

“Always.”

 You sigh, stroking your thumb across his cheekbone. “Sometimes it did, but only because I’d loved you for so long and it always felt like I was trying to hold on to who you were before you became Soldier Boy and trying to run to catch up. Like I had to change who I was to keep you happy and I really just wanted you to be happy Ben. You weren’t happy when we were kids and you were so excited about being supes and I-“

“I was happy when I was with you.” Ben whispers leaning his forehead against yours. “When you were gone I wasn’t. When I went away on those stupid filming trips and you were at your apartment all I thought about was getting back to you. I didn’t care about the films or the fame, if you weren’t there I didn’t see a point. And all I wanted was for you to be happy too, but not like that-“

“It wasn’t always bad, just sometimes. When I’d have to intervene between you and someone else or when you’d come to my apartment smelling like someone else or when I’d occasionally walk in on you and another woman in your apartment or at herogasm.” You sigh. “I didn’t have a right to feel the way I did. I shouldn’t have been jealous, you didn’t belong to me-“

“But I do.” He doesn’t blink, doesn’t flinch, doesn’t look remorseful for sharing too much. “Always. And I swear that I will spend the rest of my life proving that to you, choosing you like you chose me that night.”

You could feel the tears welling up in your eyes as you sit there on his lap, feeling the familiar contours of his body wrapped around yours. “I don’t regret it.” You murmur. “You are my family. And I don’t want to lose you again.”

“You’re not going to lose me. I love you sweetheart.”

“I love you too Ben.”

He kisses you fiercely, taking away any pain from the past and finally making you forget the moments he was gone, because now he was here and he wasn’t going anywhere. Ben presses his forehead back into your chest, tightening his grip on your waist.

You take in a deep breath smelling the comforting smells that you ascribe to Ben, but there's another smell that's coming from somewhere in the room. It's familiar, but you can't place it. In the corner of your eye something is moving, and you glance to the right noticing for the first time that the sliding glass door is open, the floor length curtains fluttering in the breeze and you knew for a fact that you’d left it closed.

“That’s so cute.” A familiar voice says.

Your entire body goes cold, the warmth you felt with Ben fading almost instantly. Ben's head shoots up from where it was resting on your chest, to stare at something or rather someone behind the two of you.

"You know, it really is every kid's dream that after all these years-" Homelander sighs happily. “ their parent's still love one another."

He was lounging in one of the sitting chairs at the opposite side of the room, his ridiculous cape draped over the back like a train as he watched the two of you in bed.

You can't move, can't breathe.

 He's here. How is he here? How did he find us?

You rack your brain trying to think about what to do, but all you can do is hold on to Ben. It wasn't that you were afraid for yourself, you knew that you could take him down if need be, the exact thing that you'd been considering the entire day, but you mind drifts to Rosemary and Lou upstairs.

 “But I can see why dad loves you so much mom. I mean you are so beautiful and you look really good for your age." His eyes glimmer black in the light and he has the audacity to wink.

Ben’s body immediately pushes yours behind him to block you from view. “What the fuck do you want you sick son of a bitch?” Ben snarls.

“Don’t talk about mom that way.” Homelander grins. But it’s the smile of a shark, pretty until it gets too close. All teeth and gums and things that come in the darkness to swallow you whole.

"How did you find us?" You swallow still thinking of Lou upstairs sleeping comfortably.

"I have you to thank for that mom." Each time he says the word 'mom' you try not to flinch. "I was flying by to see Stan when I watched the two of you 'talk' and when you left I followed you here."

I did this. I'm the reason why he found us. I was too wrapped up in what happened to fucking check if anyone was following me.

"You know the other day when we first met I was angry that you were able to hold me off, but watching you with Stan," Homelander chuckles. "That was inspired. Something special. I didn't realize how powerful you really were. And that tornado the other day- wow."

Another cold chill traces the length of your spine.

How long has he been watching us? Flying around outside of the house, staring through windows, watching from the shadows, marking our every move?

Another thought follows. He knows about Lou.

"I'm so honored to have a mother like you. And Soldier Boy as a father." Homelander's eyes trace over the two of you appreciatively. "It's a dream come true."

There was something haunting about the way he spoke to the two of you, almost as if the child that grew up in a lab was coming out, almost with childlike wonder and awe.

"I can't believe they tried to keep our family apart for so long." Homelander's gaze softens when he stares at the two of you. "That Vogelbaum and Stan Edgar decided that it would be better for me to be out of your lives but here I am after all these years, reunited."

Ben's right arm tightens where it's wrapped around your waist, his hand pressed into you back as he puts himself between you and Homelander. You can feel his skin heating with the force of his rage, hear the way his heart has begun to beat faster as he tries to think of a way out of this.

You weren't going to tell Homelander that he was your son, you thought it would be easier that way, with him not knowing that fact. Thought that it would be easier for you to dispose of him if he didn't call you 'mom' but now? It was harder.

Harder to look at him when you could see the subtle ways he looked like Ben, see the proud nose that reflected your father, smell the hairspray that covered the dark brown he must have had, see the strong jaw, the same one that you'd traced with your fingertips on Ben's face, and see the small freckles under the smudged makeup of Homelander's cheeks, the same ones the Ben and Rosemary had.

"I was angry when I found the files at Vought, when I saw exactly how hard they worked to keep us all apart. But I'm here now-"

"What the fuck do you want?" Ben spits.

Homelander blinks for a moment confused. "Isn't it obvious? I'm here for you. I want to be apart of this family. I see how you are with Lou and Rosemary and I want that. And I can't wait for you to meet your other grandson Ryan. I'm finally going to give him the family he deserves."

"We don't want anything to do with you." Ben's eyes narrow and Homelander frowns.

"I understand." Homelander stands from the chair he's sitting in, and this time Ben rises from the bed. He's shirtless, but with Ben it didn't matter what he was wearing, he could look damn intimidating when he wanted to. "Butcher's told you all about me right?" Homelander tsks. "Little William Butcher. He's always had it out for me-"

"He has a right to." You narrow your eyes and slide out of Bed so that you're standing beside Ben.

Homelander tilts his head to the side as if trying to think about what you're trying to say, but then he laughs. "Oh you're talking about Becca right? Little tease. I'm sure dad here can relate to the idea that some women, just really do ask for it, right?"

Your jaw tightens in repulsion as a wave of nausea comes surging up from the pit of your stomach realizing exactly the type of monster Homelander was. He wasn't a hero, he was a predator, a venus fly trap complete with all the pretty things to draw you in only to swallow you whole and leave no semblance of yourself behind.

"What the fuck happened to you?" Ben spits. "I'm a lot of things, but I'd never do that to a woman, not if she begged me to stop, not if she didn't want it."

Homelander shrugs. "Don't knock it til you try it."

"You're sick." You could feel your eyes shifting to purple, the room beginning to tremble with the force of your anger and disgust.

"No." He holds up a finger. "I'm not. That's just William, making you believe that I'm unhinged."

"Butcher has not made us believe anything. We've seen it." You respond. "I've seen it in the way you look at people, seen it in the way you smile, in the way you fight, seen it in your eyes-"

"You don't know-"

"I do. Something about us Homelander, is that when you've lived as long as we have, we know what a monster looks like."

"I'm not a monster." His smile drops into a frown.

"You are."

"I'm your son-" Homelander sputters.

"You might be our blood, but you're not our son." The words break you to say, but you hold it together. "Look I'm sorry. Sorry that you grew up that way. Sorry that they turned you into this. Sorry that Ben and I weren’t involved in your life, that we couldn’t have prevented the man you became."

"But-" Homelander glances from Ben to you in confusion.

"My father always saw the good in people." You continue, feeling the emotions at war in your chest, the ones that tell you that this man is your son and the ones that tell you this man is a monster. Your eyes skate over him. “But I don’t see any in you. You’re unredeemable. And as much as it hurts us to push you away, because you of all people need a family.   We're going too, because we don’t see any good in you."

Homelander stands there surprised, and you see the façade fall for just a moment, noticing the anger, pain, suffering, sadness, and rage that war within him, each emotion skating across his face in tandem with one another.

"But I found you." Homelander's eyes are misty. "I'm here. I'm your son! I'm your blood." He repeats, his voice breaking in a way that tugs at your heart.

"You might be our blood." Ben repeats watching Homelander. "But you’re not our son. You're just a disappointment."

If you didn't know Ben, you wouldn't understand the weight of those words, but you knew Ben better than anyone, knew how many times that his own father shouted those words at him. You remembered the nights that Ben crawled in through your window after the fights and when he thought you'd fallen asleep you could feel Ben tremble. You hated that his father did that to him and you worked hard to make sure that he didn't hurt as much as he had, just as Ben worked hard to make sure that you didn't remember the things your mother had said and done to you.

Before Homelander can respond, you feel someone else enter the room.

"Aunty y/n? I couldn't sleep. I had a nightmare and I can't find mommy." You hear Lou's voice say and your head turns to the doorway that leads into the basement. Lou is standing there, rubbing her eyes with one hand wearing her matching pink polka dot pajamas. Homelander turns his head to look at the little girl, the red in his eyes fading as he does, a sickening smile beginning to twitch against his lips.

"You must be my niece, Lou." He takes a step towards her and Rosemary appears in the doorway behind her, quickly pushing Lou behind her.

Rosemary does not back down from Homelander's gaze. It wasn't in her nature. She was too much like Ben and like you for her own good.

"And there's sissy." His smile is triumphant as he glances back at you and Ben.

"I'm not your anything." Rosemary's eyes narrow at Homelander.

His frown vanishes again, this time replaced with a snarl. "Do you have any idea how ridiculous this is?" The playful cadence in his voice is gone. "He was gone for forty fucking years and you brought him back into your lives! So what about me?" He shouts so loud you're sure the house is shaking, gesturing at Ben angrily.

"It's different." Your voice is cold.

"How is it different?"

"Because Ben is human." Rosemary answers. "You're not."

You turn to look at her in shock. It was the first time that she'd defended him since he got back, the first time that she had said something remotely kind about Ben to you or in front of him. Ben looks just as stunned as you do.

"I don't know what the fuck you're talking about." Homelander takes another step towards Rosemary, but she doesn't back down. "I am human. More human than you. I see the world for what it really is. I don't follow the rest of the fucking sheep like you-"

"You've been poked, prodded, and told that you were a god every day of your life. Just because we have powers does not mean that we are gods. We bleed, we live, and we die. And maybe somewhere along the way we're lucky to be loved and to love." She snaps. "But you don't. You can't feel love or remorse. You're a fucking monster not a hero. You think you're a hero just because Vought has given you that title. You're nothing more than a little boy chasing after a family you never had and you never deserved. You're not my brother, you're not their son, you're not our family. You're just something that was cut out of my mother, another scar, another manipulation, another science experiment that went wrong, and another way that Vought has ruined her life."

Lou cowers behind her mother, holding tightly to her leg, while Rosemary's hand circles behind her daughter to hold her tighter against her. It was the same thing that Ben was doing to you. You felt genuine fear for the first time in years, fear that you would lose them because of this.

Because Homelander was unhinged, manic, and insane. He might have kept it all hidden under the blonde hair, blue eyes, and the smile, but you saw through it. You'd met supes like him before and you knew that you would meet others in the years to come.

"You got everything didn't you? A loving family? A mother who loved you? A home? You got to be in your child's life. You had everything I didn't have." His voice is eerily calm. "And for what? So you could work at a fucking hospital and degrade yourself, our bloodline, and the fucking power you have to be a slave to other people?!”

Rosemary freezes.

"That's right I know all about you. Know all about all of you. Know about that fucking freak Charlie they inserted into your life, know exactly how much Vought wants Lou. Vought has files upon files about each of you, everything you’ve done, your powers." His eyes flick to the little girl hiding behind her mom. "And yet I'm the disappointment." Homelander's eyes flash back to where Ben and you are standing, something murderous building behind them, before they focus back on Rosemary. "I should have had your life. I'm the one who deserves it! I'm the hero. I'm the one who's more powerful."

You knew that the situation was growing worse by the minute, but with Lou thrown in the mix you weren't sure how this was going to go. You didn’t want her in the line of fire, wished that she had stayed in bed upstairs.

"Mommy I'm scared." You hear Lou whisper as she clutches on to Rosemary tighter.

"Don't be scared Lou." Homelander smiles wide, so wide you can see all his teeth. "This will all be over soon."

The words chill you to the bone, but before you can react, Homelander flies at Rosemary knocking her back through the bathroom wall and away from Lou. Her body crashes through solid tile and bathroom mirror with a resounding crack that echoes through the bedroom.

And just as you leap forward to take him on, Homelander grabs Lou.

There were only a few moments in your life that you’d ever known genuine fear. The day you got the serum, the day that you took the bullet for Ben and you thought you were going to die, and the day that you went into labor. But this was different. Seeing Homelander holding on to Lou wiped away any of those other moments in your life.

Your entire body catches fire with anger and fear. "Put her down." Your voice is unrecognizable, hands clenched into fists. You felt your eyes shift back to a threatening purple, everything in the room trembling under your power, the wood paneling on the wall beginning to peel back and reveal the concrete underneath.

What kind of sick person uses a child as a shield?

Lou squirms in his arms, but Homelander just holds her tighter against him. "Why would I do that?"

"Because if you don't I'm going to-" Ben snarls taking a step towards him. Ben's body has already begun to glow, seeping out from his heart as the force of his anger grows with every passing second.

"You're going to what?" Homelander's smile is sinister. "Because it seems to me that you can't do anything to me without poor little Lou here taking the brunt of it."

Rosemary appears covered in plaster, dust, and with pieces of mirror in her dark hair that catch the light in a way that makes her hair sparkle. "Put her down you narcissistic asshole." She snarls, her eyes turning red.

You figured it was because he had touched her, but deep down you hoped that Rosemary still had apart of your power, so you didn’t have to worry about her dying.

Lou tries to reach for her mom, but Homelander holds her closer to him. Tears have begun to trickle down her little cheeks. "Mommy?” She sobs quietly.

"Shh. It's okay sweetie." Homelander purrs bouncing her in his arms. "I've got you."

"Please put her down." You say it calmly, but you can feel your heart jumping around in your chest, beating against your ribcage. You didn't know how to fix this and didn’t know how to appeal to him, not after you'd spent the past twenty minutes telling him that you wanted nothing to do with him and that he wasn't your son. “We can talk this out. She doesn’t have to be apart of this.”

"Sorry no can do. I’m kind of tired of talking to you and to him.” Homelander gestures to Ben with his free hand, who isn’t glowing anymore.   “You might not want me apart of your family, but I want Lou apart of mine."

"What?" You croak.

"I think she should meet her cousin. And I think that Ryan would do a lot better with another child in his life, especially one that's supposed to be so powerful." Homelander continues rocking Lou back and forth. "But don't worry. I'll make sure that she's taken care of. And I’ll make sure she reaches her full potential.”

His eyes lock on yours and the chill of his words set in.

“Wait what?” Rosemary says.

But you understand too late.

Homelander shoots upward through the ceiling with Lou screaming in his arms as pieces of rubble crash down into the bedroom Ben and you share.

"No!" You scream in horror and rage, and rise up off the ground, but before you can follow behind Homelander, Ben wraps his arms around your waist to hold you down against him, refusing to let you go alone to face Homelander. “Ben let me go I can-“ By now your voice is nothing more than a shrill scream, tears pouring from your eyes as you struggle against his iron grip. “Please let me go! I have to go after him-”

“You’re not going to face him alone!” Ben shouts back holding you tighter.

But he can’t stop Rosemary.

She flashes past you in pursuit, up through the hole in the ceiling that Homelander left behind, and leaving you to sob and beat your fists against Ben’s chest wishing that it had been you instead.

A/N: Alright I had to make the first part just a little bit spicy to feel better about the devastation at the end of this chapter.

And I know another cliffhanger, but I promise there is something coming after this and we are quickly reaching the end of this series. 😊

I also want to let everyone now that I have decided to end this series when we get there without any reach into season 4. I do have some very cute ideas for little fics between this reader and Ben following season 3.

However, I am going to write an alternate ending and when we get to season 5 of The Boys with Soldier Boy back in action, I am going to release it and write for season 5, I think. That’s the plan right now, but who knows? I've also got some great ideas for other series I might want to start eventually.

Also anyone getting Syndrome vibes or is it just me? It was not intentional 😂

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

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[willowsnook]

more andrei iosivas pleaseeeee.

andrei iosivas x reader

summary: reader has been in andrei's friend group for a while and comforts him after Sunday's game against the pats

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

As time expired in Paycor Stadium the mood of your friends was down very bad. You all had gotten tickets to the season opener to support your friends Andrei and Chase who were on the team. You were even more excited to surprise Andrei by wearing the jersey he'd gotten you for your annual secret santa exchange last year.

Outside of your best friend Rachel, he was who you were closest to in your guys' friend group. Everyone always joked that something more was going on but you both kept it platonic, even if you wished it wasn't.

"Well that sucked," your friend Matt said and you all nodded. "Should we keep movie night tonight?"

You had all planned to hang out at Chase's house to watch a movie and hopefully celebrate a Bengals win but now that was up in the air.

"I'll text Chase and see what he thinks but we can head out now," Rachel said and you all started making your way out of the stadium. By the time you reached the cars the response had been that movie night was still on with heavier drinking planned. You and Rachel carpooled back to your shared apartment and you shot Andrei a quick text.

Sorry about your game :(

A couple of minutes later you felt your phone buzz.

"It's good, i'll see you tonight

He didn't really have much of a game, just a little over 50 yards receiving and you knew that was not how he was expecting it to go. Back at your apartment you changed into a pair of short biker shorts and an oversized long sleeve bengals tshirt. With a couple of hours to kill you deep cleaned the apartment and made dinner for you and Rachel before you guys headed to Chase's house.

You two were the last to arrive and everyone else was in the kitchen making drinks and snacks to go with the movie. Andrei had his back to you and you used that to blatantly check him out from the back in his grey sweatpants and black tshirt. Rachel elbowed you in the side as she caught you staring and you rolled your eyes.

"Hey guys," Matt called out and Andrei turned around, giving you a soft smile. "Grab something to drink, movie in five minutes!"

You walked over next to Andrei grabbing the bottle of wine in front of him.

"Hey," he said looking over at you. You looked up at him and smiled, running your arm up his bicep.

"Wearing your jersey did not turn out to be a good luck charm," you said pouting and he laughed pulling you into his side. You wrapped your arms around his waist and he rested his chin on your head while pouring you a glass.

"I think you still need to wear it a couple of times before we know for sure," he said. You smiled and took the glass from him before heading to the living room. The only seats left were on the big couch and you took the middle seat, letting Andrei have the end with the recliner. Andrei sunk down next to you and you kept a healthy distance between the two of you. You caught Rachel's eye from across the room and she gave you a look causing you to blush.

About halfway through the movie you started to get a little cold and wrapped your arms around yourself.

"Are you cold?" Andrei whispered and you looked over at him nodding. He reached down beside him to pull up a blanket, throwing it over his legs.

"Come here," he said opening his side up. You scooted closer, stretching your legs against him and warming up under the blanket. He kept his left arm behind your head on the couch and you tried to stay calm. You looked over to see Matt on the other side of you completely passed out with his mouth open causing you to giggle. Andrei smiled and brought his arm down, wrapping it around your shoulder. Your breath hitched as you got nervous. He was lazily rubbing his thumb in circles on your arm not noticing the change in your demeanor.

"Do you want another drink, I'm going to get one," you whispered asked to him and he nodded.

"I'll come with you," he said and you both headed towards the kitchen.

The wine was making your feelings for him worse and you were jittering pouring another glass. You turned around to see him leaning against the counter watching you with a weird look on his face.

"I'm sorry about today," you said, rocking back on your heels. "I know it's not how you wanted it to go." He took in a deep breath.

"Yeah, it could have gone better," he said. "I'm glad you were there though." You blushed and he smirked.

He held out his hand to you and you took it curiously being pulled into him. He brought his other hand to rest on you waist trapping you against your body. You looked up at him and he brought his hand up to hold the right side of your face, caressing his thumb against your cheek.

"Andrei..." you mumbled. He hummed in reply, eyes boring into yours. He leaned down and softly met your lips moving them slowly. You brought your hand up to his head to deepen the kiss and it went on like that for a couple of minutes before you pulled away. You wrapped your arms around him and he kissed the top of your head before mumbling that you should go back.

You snuck back into the living room and you started to sit down in the same spot but Andrei reached out and pulled you over into his lap. He gave you an innocent look and you looked over to see Rachel grinning and taking a picture. You groaned and buried your head into his chest while he snorted. You readjusted so that you could see the screen while still being snuggled up into him.

"Comfy baby?" He whispered and you nodded before leaning up to give him a sweet short kiss.

"Always."

[formulaforza]

💐 hi my wonderful birthday girl !! so i was thinking about a dress coded lewis blurb (because i was born a lewis and ts girl) where they just get drunk together and there’s teases flying and stuff. keep it as brief as u wish <333

—you can take it off

lewis hamilton x merc!reader summ. thank you stephy i love u bad <3 inspo from... ur never gonna believe it... this. hope it's up to your standards my love. 2.7k (kind of got out of hand)

You were half-asleep and half-drunk the night of the Belgium Grand Prix. The air was cool, recycled like all air seems to be in hotels, smelled of too-strong perfume and was filled with the dull noise of elevator jazz. What had begun as a before-we-go-to-bed night cap in the hotel bar with Bono had turned into a seemingly never ending addition of guests. 

Valtteri was first to join—never could pass up the opportunity to give you shit, to offer you job postings at Alfa Romeo that weren’t job postings at all—and with him around, there’s no casual drinking. You don’t try to keep up, not really, because you know you don’t stand a chance, but also because he would never let you. After all these years of being just a few months younger than him, he still calls you kiddo, still promises to call your parents when you’re out after dark, and always sends you a text after a race with some… questionable strategy decisions you’re catching flack for online. 

A brief appearance from Toto and Susie, just long enough for them to know they had no business trying to go drink for drink with Valtteri, and then they’re wishing all three of you a wonderful summer break and retreating to whatever room is considered prestige enough for Motorsport’s it-couple. 

And then there was Lewis, the last to arrive, who never called you kid, who never viewed you as one. He sits adjacent you in the red, high back leather booth and takes up a seat and a half, the toe of his shoe brushing against the side of yours, flashing you apologetic puppy dog eyes every time he bumps against yours. 

It’s somewhere between drink number five and six that Lewis gets his first, insists on a toast to the summer break that officially began… six hours and fifty-three minutes ago. For a long season this and a too-short summer break that, you lot had a mouthful of things to complain about, but a million more to be grateful for. “To not having work for a month,” Lewis proposes, clinking his glass against yours, offering a quick wink and holding it up properly over the table. 

“To no racing-talk for a few weeks,” Bono adds, clinking his glass against Lewis’. 

“To summer-fucking-break,” Valtteri chimes in, laughing at himself before the rest of you get the chance to match it. 

“To summer fucking break,” you repeat because you know there’s no better way to sum it all up. 

Unlike the other two, you slowed down when Lewis joined, wanted to give him time to catch up, to give yourself time to meet him somewhere in the middle. A glass of water and a virgin rum and coke and another water and the night is still young. 

“First summer break as the big boss, kiddo,” Valtteri remarks, and you have to squint to hear him through the alcohol-induced thickening of his accent. 

“That’s right!” Bono laughs. Your cheeks run hot at their mention of your title, of your promotion following James’ departure earlier in the season. Lewis smiles against the rim of his glass, bumps his foot against yours and doesn’t give you apologetic eyes. No, he raises his brows so slightly you think you’re the only one that notices, which is probably exactly the way he intended it to be. “Little miss queen of strategy is making the big money now, got any big travel plans?”

Lewis clears his throat, and your eyes dart over to his almost instinctively. “You’re staying in London, yeah?”

He’s right. Your summer-break plans consist of four weeks of trying to remember what it feels like to do nothing, failing at that task pathetically, and spending the rest of the time meticulously picking apart every call you’ve made all season and imagining the million and one things you could’ve done differently and their billion and two outcomes. 

You pick apart the drink napkin, tear it into tiny little pieces. “Yeah, yeah. Just staying home, catching up with friends and family,” you clarify, try not to sound as pathetic as you feel. It’s hard not to when you’re sitting next to the guy who spends his offseason snowboarding in Antarctica with his celebrity friends and his weeks off traveling to Paris fashion week for front row seats next to supermodels. Anything you say would sound pathetic to someone who makes thirty-five million a year. 

“I love it,” he nods, stares right through you and into your soul so you know he’s being genuine. “That’s awesome.”

You nod, swallow hard, purposely angle your body away from his, to the rest of the group. “What about you guys?”

Lewis laughs, soft, quiet, completely under his breath. The kind of laugh that deserves to be bottled into a jar and kept on a shelf for safe keeping. You know he’s always laughed like that, even before he knew you, but in the last few months it just feels different. Good different, like he’s laughing just for you now instead of everyone else too. 

You know you’re crazy, that he’s just Lewis being Lewis and you’re just single for the first time in a long time and also drunk. Not half drunk anymore, just drunk—even if you do think you’re meeting him in the middle, you’re not. He’s just chasing after. 

“Back home, too,” Bono concludes. “Take a breather, might head up to the country with the family.”

“You’ll take pictures, yeah?” Lewis asks, starts to pick up the pieces of your napkin tear pile and move them in front of him like a kid who isn’t patient enough to share or destructive enough to rip up his own. You watch in your peripheral, the way he fiddles with the wet paper, gets it stuck to his fingertips. You can’t laugh, so you don’t, but you want to. You think he knows you want to. 

Bono scoffs, nods while swallowing a sip of his drink—something dark, something pungent. Not what you would have pegged him for ordering, even after knowing him as long as you have. “So I can compare with the likes of you lot and,” he turns to Lewis, leers around you to emphasize the eyeline, “your million dollar vacations or,” and then the other way, back to Valtteri, “your olympic cycling events?”

Valtteri smiles, swirls his drink—gin, you think. Expensive. “Yes.”

“No chance.”

“I’ll be sure to send you a picture of me having a meltdown when I think about our side pods from the beginning of the year,” you chime in, because it’s not like they all don’t know you well enough to know exactly what you mean by spending time with friends and family at home.

 “What sidepods?” Lewis chuckles.

“Fucking exactly,” you add, mirror his mannerisms without even realizing it, all the way down to readjusting in your seat when you’ve had your laugh. 

“Could be worse,” Bono offers. “Could be last year.”

Lewis nods, holds his drink up in the direction of Valtteri across the table. “We never should have let you leave.”

He smiles, weak, lips  pursed. “I could have told you that.”

The night continues on, all drinks and laughs and yawns, occasional remarks that it’s about time I head up, followed by another round, another joke, another comment about this, that, or the other thing. 

You’ve always liked Lewis when he’s a little tipsy. He lightens up a bit, you can actually watch the stress drip from him like sweat, all the titles and the wins and the losses, they all just fall away when he’s relaxed like this. You’ve always liked him like this. Always. Before he was king of the world and before he was the prodigal son and every moment in between. 

After every joke he makes—or, after every comment he makes that he thinks could be considered a joke—you find yourself laughing, because it’s Lewis and you have a crush on him and of course you do. And, without fail, everytime you laugh, he winks, like you’re in on some inside joke even though he’s making it to the whole table, like there’s some double meaning to all of his words that are meant just for you, just for the two of you to understand. 

Somewhere in it all, it comes back to Lewis, because, well, it always does. “Is your back still bothering you?” Bono asks, and you think you already know the answer. You think you know, because you can’t remember the last time you;d seen him take careful consideration of his posture when he sits. Not even now is he sitting up straight, with his legs perfectly spread a shoulder’s width apart and his feet flat on the floor. Instead, he’s taking up more room than he needs to, all relaxed and comfortable on the leather booth bench. 

He swipes his thumb over the  condensation of his glass, looking up from the action at you, and then to Bono. “No, no. All good there.”

“All good?” Bono prods, because he was on the receiving end of a year and a half of complaints from Lewis.

Lewis nods, clicks his tongue on the roof of his mouth. “No Paracetamol in a month.”

Across the table, Valterri chimes in. “None?” 

“None for my back,” Lewis says, and the whole table laughs. You just watch him, though, because who laughs better than he does? You could wax poetic about it without a second thought, the way that his lips upturn and his cheeks round and his eyes crinkle and go soft in a way that makes you feel like you’re the funniest person in the world even when you’re not making a joke. The way that his smile is brighter than anyone’s you’ve ever seen, and the way that if you look at it for too long, you think about how it would feel to run your finger along the gap in his teeth. 

“That’s what I thought,” Valtteri mutters off the end of his laugh. “You're getting old.”

“Not too old to make half a million.”

The entire table’s heads fly to him. You gasp, an embarrassingly wide smile on your face. “You didn’t!” You almost yell, smacking his upper arm with a weak hand. 

He mocks your gasp, makes it somehow more dramatic and over the top and laughs sweetly, shrugging your hand off his arm and letting his hand fall to your leg, bumping your foot with his again. “I didn’t.” The table chuckles, you pout, and then you realize that his hand is on your thigh, that it’s staying there quite comfortably, and that you mind it less than he does. 

“Don’t be a tease,” you sigh, take a swig of your drink. Your knees are suddenly weak, like you know you wouldn’t be able to stand up if you wanted to. It’s like he can sense your change but can’t quite read it, because then he’s moving his hand back to his own lap, interlocking it with the other and resting it there.

 He nods, suddenly shy, suddenly guilty. “It’s as good as done.”

Valtteri laughs. “Yeah, I’ve heard that one before.” You hear what he says, but you’re not listening, not really. Lewis stares into you like he wants to look anywhere else—apologetic eyes and a fear he’s taken a misstep. He hasn’t, you want to tell him. You haven’t, put your hand back, please. Silently, you try to convey what shouldn’t dare be spoken. “I’ll believe it when pen is on paper.”

He snaps his eyes away from you, back to Valtteri. You don’t follow suit, stay fixed on him, on trying— hard—to get your message across. “I’m telling you, they’re announcing it after the summer break.”

“Whatever you say, Mate.”

Bono nods around a mouthful of alcohol, sets his half-empty glass down with an incidental thud. “Who’s to say we still want your geriatric ass?”

Lewis raised his interlocked hands from his lap, to the tabletop, resting his elbows on the wood grain and rattling the empty glasses when he does it. He leans in towards the center of the table, even though the only person separating him and Bono is you. “Would you tell Schumacher ‘no?’”

“What was that?” You ask, your words a convenient excuse to lean in closer, to settle into a spot that much closer to him without raising any brows. To brace for the shift, you leave your hand on his thigh with less subtly than your original movement, but it’s okay. It’s okay—only Lewis knows where your hands are, and you don’t want it to be subtle, don’t want anything to be lost in translation. “I can’t hear you over your ego,” you smile, and your fingers dance up his leg just a few, careful inches. 

He drops back into his seat, drops his hands back into his lap. Under the table, he grabs yours and laughs, but it’s stifled, stunted, not quite relaxed. “Very funny,” he humors, and moves your hand back. His stays too, though, and he crosses one leg over the other under the table. His thumb moves over the fabric of your slacks in shudder-worthy circles. 

“Someone’s gotta check you,” you smile, nod in the direction of your tablemates without ever looking away from him. “These two won’t.”

Bono scoffs.“Are you kidding?”

Your smile grows. “How do you want me to answer that, Peter?”

“Damn,” Lewis laughs so hard he coughs. “She Peter-ed you. That’s cold.”

“You’re the one comparing yourself to Michael fucking Schumacher,” Bono scolds. 

“I didn’t say that, but,”

“But!” You interject. 

“But,” Lewis laughs, threatens to continue even though all at the table know he won’t, knows that no matter how often the media and the girlfriends and the friends and the family tell him he should put himself up there with the greatest, he’ll never quite see himself in the same light. “But it’s about time I head up, I think.”

“Ah, see,” Valtteri chuckles. “Old man Hamilton can’t hang.”

“No, he can not,” Lewis remarks, pulling his phone and his hotel keycard from his pocket, setting the latter on the table and if you were feeling a little crazier than you are, you’d swear he nudges it ever so slightly out of his bubble and into yours. He types away rapidly at his phone, and you try to pay attention to the jokes Bono and Valtteri throw around, the pokes at Lewis they make, but suddenly you’re feeling like it’s a good time to head up, too. You try to shake the crazy, to leave it with your backwash in the final sip of your drink, and you do. You do.

You do, but then he’s slipping his phone back into his pocket. He’s leaving his glass just beyond his keycard and telling you to feel free to finish it. He’s saying his goodbyes while he moves out of the booth and his hotel room key is still sat on the table next to you. It stares at you—the hard, thin plastic. Stares at you in its white paper pocket with the intricate printing of the hotel label and dares you to look at him when he walks away. 

You do, begrudgingly, subtly, and his eyes are already on yours. They’re expressionless, and yet, say so fucking much. You hold the remainder of his drink in his direction before downing it in a single gulp and then he winks at you. He looks at his keycard on the table, and then to you, and then he winks, and you’re sure you’re absolutely crazy. 

You swallow. 

“Oh, fuck,” Bono says, reaches over you to grab the keycard from the table. It’s like you were zoned out and he snapped in front of your face, the way it pulls you from Lewis to the table. “He forgot his key.”

“Oh,” you squeak, and then louder, “I can take it to him.”

“No, no, It’s okay,” Bono says, and he makes you stand up to get out of the booth. “I should be heading up anyway.”

“Really,” you half-insist, trying to convince him you can handle it without letting him in on why you’re convincing him. “It’s no problem.”

Bono pulls out his wallet, flips through the pockets of it and fiddles with his bills. “Our rooms are right by each other,” he insists, tosses his share onto the table. “I got it.”

“Okay,” you nod, accept your defeat. “Yeah, I should be heading up, too, I guess.”

[guiltypleasurecreative]

Best Friend Vacation

Best friends Harry and Y/N have been the best of friends for nearly a decade. They’re such close friends they take an annual vacation together, just the two of them. This trip, however, may just be the one that changes things.

Contents: Explicit depictions of sex, fluff

6.6k words

“Oh, my goodness. Harry! This is so nice!”

“Yeah, I think this is the nicest one yet.” Harry set the luggage just inside the door of the cabin you rented for the week. It had been a long drive, but it was still early afternoon—plenty of time to relax and enjoy the day.

You couldn’t say anymore who’s idea it was, but for the last five or six years you and Harry have taken a friends vacation together. One year, you invited some mutual friends, and it wasn’t as fun or relaxing, so you stuck to just the two of you. Things were so much better this way.

After nearly nine years of friendship, you two were super close. You two hung out most weekends and recently had spent many weeks planning this trip to a forested mountainous town close enough to the coast that you could smell the salty ocean air.

“Which room do you want, Harry?”

“I wake up earlier than you, so I want the one with the view. I want my morning tea with a view.”

“I can enjoy the same view when I wake at noon.”

“I’m calling it, Y/N,” he smiled at you and picked up your bags, setting them into the other room – the one without a view, apparently. “Look! Yours has an en suite with a big bathtub.”

You walked further into the room and saw there was a large claw foot tub. “Wow, I don’t remember this on the listing.”

“Me either. Maybe its new and they just haven’t updated the listing yet?”

He turned around to face you, but you only shrugged.

“Let’s put the groceries away, and we’ll figure out what to see first. Maybe we just hang out here and jump in the jacuzzi?”

“Are you hungry?” Harry asked as you entered the house. You’d spent the afternoon in the jacuzzi with a bottle of Moscato. When the bottle was empty you and Harry decided it was time to go inside.

“Getting there.”

“Let’s get cleaned up then I’ll make dinner?”

“Sounds good.”

When you got out of the shower you heard the sound of chopping coming from the kitchen.

“Hey.” Harry greeted you while chopping heirloom tomatoes. “I thought we could have something light. We have burrata and pesto so I’m making a nice tomato salad. I’ve got some garlic bread in the oven.

“That sounds lovely. What can I do?” You took the towel from your hair and draped it over a chair at the kitchen counter.

“Nothing. Go pick a movie.” He smiled as he mixed the tomatoes in with the pesto then seasoned it with salt and pepper.

“What do you feel like watching?” You walked to the living room and turned on the giant television.

“Whatever. What about that movie you were telling me about on the drive up?”

Harry put the burrata in the center of a serving plate and the tomatoes around it. Harry always had a knack when it came to making food look as good as it tasted. On another plate he piled the garlic bread then took it out to the living room where you sat on the couch, remote control in hand.

“Can you grab us some drinks?” Harry asked as the plates on the coffee table. He looked up and saw that you had on a very tiny pair of pajama shorts.

“Of course. Beer okay?”

“Y/N, didn’t you pack any pants? You’re not even wearing socks!”

“I was hot after my shower!”

“Yeah, but as soon as you sit down, you’re gonna get cold. And what are you gonna do? You’re going to tuck your cold ass feet under me!”

“But you’re always so warm!”

“Y/N...get socks at least.” Harry was behind you in the kitchen now grabbing two small plates and utensils.

“Yes, dad.” You smirked, knowing you were annoying him.

“Fine, don’t listen. But you can’t tuck your cold feet under me and I’m not letting you warm up your fingers on me either.”

“Just grab me a blanket if you’re so worried, damn.”

Harry smacked your ass then called you a brat under his breath.

“Bastard! I almost dropped the bottles!” Harry only turned around and winked at you in response.

Harry sat on the couch. When you sat down, he handed you a plate then served you.

“This was a good idea, Har. Something nice and light after all that crap we ate for lunch.”

“Actually, I wanted something lighter because I want ice cream with all the toppings later.”

You rolled your eyes and pressed play on the movie.

The two of you ate in a comfortable silence.

“Pause it for me please? I’m going to put the leftovers away.”

“Yeah, sure. Thanks. And get some socks! It still gets chilly at night.” He smacked your ass again as you got up from the couch.

“Are you going to bitch at me every night? We are never taking a vacation in the Spring again. Summer only.”

“Then I’ll just bitch at you about staying hydrated in the heat.” He smiled up at you as he laid down on the couch.

“You’re insufferable.”

“I’m your best friend. You know you love me! Hurry up, the plot was just getting good.”

You put the leftovers away then went to your room to grab socks out of your luggage. When you returned to the living room you sat down by Harry’s head and made a big show of putting on your socks.

Harry smiled and gave your thigh a light squeeze. “Thank you.”

The movie was pretty good, not what you had expected, but it was enjoyable. When it was over you stood up and stretched, looking down at Harry.

“I think I’m going to bed. You want me to get you some ice cream before I go?”

“Nah, I don’t really feel like it anymore. I think I’ll go read my book. Thanks.” Harry stretched before standing up, too.

“Alright. Good night, Har.”

“Night. Sleep well.” He kissed you on the top of your head and squeezed your shoulder before walking to his room.

When you reached your room, you took your time washing up then climbed in bed. You scrolled your phone for a bit, but you couldn’t quite relax. Thankfully, you brought your toy with you.

You got out of bed and looked for it in your luggage. Quickly, you realized it wasn’t in that particular bag, so you searched your other bag, but had no luck. In frustration you flipped on the bedside light and dumped both bags onto the bed.

A few minutes later you were folding your clothes and putting them back in your luggage, defeated. A knock on your door startled you.

“Y/N?”

“Come in.”

“Everything okay? I got up and saw your light was on.” Harry was dressed in sleeping pants with a matching unbuttoned shirt. He had obviously just thrown it on just to leave his bedroom.

“I forgot my vibrator,” you sighed.

Harry chuckled. “Oh, no. A sexually frustrated Y/N is no fun at all.”

You rolled your eyes. “Go to bed, Harry.”

He sat down on the bed, watching you put your things back into your bag. “Oh, come on. Don’t get all bent out of shape. You still have hands.”

You stopped what you were doing just to smack Harry in the arm. “You think if that worked for me, I’d be upset right now?”

“What? So it won’t feel as nice. It’ll still take the edge off.”

You put your bags away and flopped on the bed next to Harry. “No, like, I can’t get there at all without help. Trying just makes me more frustrated.”

After a moment of silence, you reached over to turn off the lamp on the bedside table. “You staying or going? I’m just going to go to sleep.” You didn’t wait for an answer before you settled under the covers again and prepared to sleep.

“Would you like my help?”

With a hearty laugh you swiped your hand down Harry’s face. “Close your eyes and go to sleep Harry.”

“No, I’m serious. Thinking about your toy got me all worked up, too.” You didn’t respond so he continued. “My hand isn’t as fun either. Why don’t we help each other out?”

Is he for real?

“Harry, did the heat from the jacuzzi get to your head?” You chuckled and reached out for his hand and closed your eyes again.

“No, but all my blood is rushing south. Maybe that’s it.”

You opened your eyes again and looked down at his pants. The room was dark, but you could still see he wasn’t lying. He was sporting a bit of a hard on and you let out a breathy laugh. “You’re ridiculous sometimes, you know that?”

“Mmm. Night, Y/N.”

Harry said good night but made no move to go back to his bed. You two had slept together on who knows how many occasions. It was never a big deal, but tonight felt different. You had never fallen asleep next to him while he had a hard on. Or at least not that you knew of.

The two of you laid together quietly before you spoke up. “Okay. Let’s help each other out. I’m not gonna sleep in this state. You can’t be too comfortable either.”

“Y/N?”

“Oh, come on. You make the suggestion then get shy on me? Besides, we’ve seen each other naked before.”

“You’ve seen me because you never knock anymore, but I don’t recall ever seeing you,” he said with a laugh.

“Wow, Harry. Thanks. Good to know it was memorable.”

“I’m serious! I don’t remember. When?”

You turned your body to face him, and he did the same.

“You’ve seen my breasts I don’t know how many times!”

“Breasts don’t count! You’ve seen mine too.” Harry laughed again.

“We really lack boundaries, don’t we?” You giggled.

“Nah, I think we’re just comfortable with each other.”

“Maybe,” you laughed, “but breasts count.”

“Breasts do not count,” Harry countered.

“Okay, well, this is your chance to see the rest of me. Are up for it?”

Harry sat in silence for a moment. “I’m game. My situation hasn’t gone away yet.”

You laughed, “I can’t believe we’re gonna do this. We’re so stupid.”

“We’ve been stupider,” Harry answers, causing both of you to laugh harder.

Harry cleared his throat in an attempt to stop his laughter. “So, we’re serious about this?”

“Yeah, why not. We’ve been stupider right?” You smiled at your best friend.

“Like that time we got lost in Rome after letting our cell phones die?” Harry sat up and put his hand on your knee.

“God, that was so dumb. I still don’t know how we managed to find our way back to the hotel.”

The two of you broke out into a fit of laughter again.

“So. Any hard boundaries? Things that you like?”

“Harry, I’m not discussing my kinks with you. We’re just going to scratch this itch and go to bed.”

“Okay, okay. You afraid I’ll judge you if I find out you like your hair pulled?”

You were a little surprised. “How did you know that?”

Harry shrugged. “Lucky guess.”

“Ugh, you know me too well.” You got comfortable on the bed and Harry moved to stand on his knees between your legs. He rested his hands on your knees.

“That I do, but I still don’t know where you draw the line.”

“Uhhh. I like dirty talk, but nothing degrading. Nothing rough. I don’t like pain.”

“I could have guessed that,” Harry chuckled.

“What about you? Any no-goes?”

“No, I’ve always really enjoyed wherever the act takes me,” he laughed.

“You’re such a man,” you joked.

Harry shrugged out of his unbuttoned shirt. “Do you…want me to play with you?”

“That feels a bit too intimate, don’t you think?”

“More intimate than sex? Not really. And unless you want to start this with no warmup all dr—”

“Okay. Uh, you could…you could touch me?”

“Sure.” He kissed your forehead and moved from between your legs to lay down beside you. He looked in your eyes as he rested his head on your pillow. He rubbed your stomach, just below your navel. When he moved his hand in gentle circles, his fingers grazing the waistband of your shorts.

“Wanna take these off?” His voice was soft and quiet.

“Yeah.” You looked down at your waist where Harry’s hands still laid. You lifted your hips to take off your shorts and underwear.

Harry groaned and looked back up at your face. “Can I go lower?”

You nodded, not saying a word. He slid his hands lower, barely grazing over your clit on his way to run his fingers between your folds. Your mouth fell open with a sharp intake of breath. His face mirrored yours, clearly drunk on your pleasure.

He played with you for a bit as both of you watched his fingers dip low to gather your arousal and bring it to your clit. He felt amazing. You closed your eyes and focused on your growing pleasure.

“Y/N?”

“Yes?” You opened your eyes and focused on his face. You could see his arm flexing out of the corner of your eye and it was driving you mad.

“It’s getting painful.” He chuckled uncomfortably.

“Fuck! Sorry!” You got up on your knees, forcing Harry to pull his hand away. “Lie back.”

Harry laid on his back and tucked an arm under his head, watching you.

“Can I take these off?” You kneeled between his legs with both hands on his pants.

“’Course.” He lifted his hips to help you take off his pajama pants. You tugged his pants all the way off of his legs. When you looked back up at him, he had his fingers pressed to his face. “You smell really good.”

You shuddered. It was always such a turn on when a partner enjoyed the smell of you. Without taking his eyes away from you he licked his fingers.

You let out a moan. “Really?”

“It’s a huge turn on for me.” Harry had a broad grin on his face.

“Me too. Never thought we’d know that about each other.”

Harry laughed, prompting you to laugh, too. When you felt a throbbing in your core you decided to get serious.

“Spit.” You held your hand out to his mouth. Harry furrowed his brows. “I mean, unless you like it dry.”

Without taking his eyes away from yours he sat up and spit in your hand. Jesus, that was hot. You brought your hand to the tip off his penis and began to rub him. Your other hand went between your legs to rub yourself. Harry’s eyes fluttered closed and his head fell back on the pillow. When he began to feel dry again you switched hands, bringing the hand covered in your arousal up to his dick.

Harry groaned loudly. “That is the hottest thing anyone’s ever done for me in bed.”

You smiled and hung your head. The feel of Harry’s dick in your hands was such a turn on and you could feel yourself getting closer to your release. You loved it when your partner moaned in bed, it was probably the sexiest thing a man could do in bed. Every sound that fell from Harry’s lips spurred you on.

“Ah—sh—it’s getting dry again.” Harry sat up on his elbows.

You nodded without a word and switched hands again, covering him in more of yourself.

“Y/N, are you still taking the pill?”

Both of your hands stopped moving. “Huh?”

“You’re still on the pill, right?”

“Yes. Yeah.” Your brain was too fuzzy with pleasure to figure out why he was asking.

“So, let’s like, actually do it.”

“Do you want to?” Your heart was still pounding in your chest. You could have come just like this, but you couldn’t turn down intertwining your bodies, feeling full.

“I think that’s pretty obviously a yes. You can feel how hard I am right now.”

You laughed and took your shirt off, just remembering it was still on when the fabric painfully rubbed against your nipples. Harry moaned at the sight of your bare breasts.

“Shit. You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you, Y/N?”

“At least you’ll remember seeing me naked now,” you laughed.

“I never forgot! I just said breasts don’t count.” He ran both hands down your sides. “You haven’t answered me yet.”

“Yes.”

“Regularly?”

You laughed remembering all the times he had to remind you to take your pills in the past. That was so long ago now; you had gotten much better at taking them regularly and on time. “Yes.”

“So, what’s stopping us then?” Harry sat up and wrapped his arms around your waist.

“Nothing.”

Harry smiled before pressing his lips to yours. He guided you down on to your back and climbed between your legs again. His kisses trailed from your lips, down your neck, then to your chest. You relished the feeling of his lips on you and running your fingers through his hair. Damn, was he good in bed.

“I wanna try something.” Harry was breathing heavily.

“Anything.”

Harry wasted no time bringing his lips to his to your nipple causing you to cry out. He propped himself up on one arm and brought his hand between your legs. His fingers slid into you and his thumb rubbed your clit.

“Ah! Harry, that feels really good.”

“Good.” He pressed another kiss to your chest.

All too soon you felt that familiar tension building then spilling over. You had one of the best orgasms you’ve had in who knows how long.

Harry pulled his fingers from between your legs and brought them to his lips. Once he had sucked his fingers clean, he brought himself to your entrance. “You’re still okay with this?”

“Yes,” you moaned.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and brought his body flush against your chest. He easily slid into you, filling you up. Harry pumped his hips, pulling in and out of you slowly while moaning. His breath on your neck was heavenly.

“Y/N, what’s your favorite position? What will make you come again?”

“I don’t know. A partner has never given me two in one go,” you answered.

“Jesus, Y/N. What kind of losers do you sleep with?”

You laughed but before you could even respond Harry had pulled out of you and was flipping you on to your stomach. He pulled your hips up just a bit so he could slide back in. He placed a hand on your ass and pushed you back down flat against the bed. His hand ran from your ass to your shoulder, massaging as he kissed the nape of your neck. With one last kiss he laid his body flat over yours.

“Cross your legs at the ankle and squeeze your legs together.”

You did as you were asked and thought you were going to come again. Your core was so tight he could barely move himself inside you. Just when you thought it couldn’t get any better, he slipped a hand between you and the bed to rub your clit. He continued to press soft kisses to your back as he slowly thrust in and out of you. You could feel how wet you were.

“Y/N, I’m close.”

“Harry, yes. Just use me.”

“No—ah, I need to see my girl’s face when I come. It’s kind of my thing.”

“Lie down,” you commanded.

Harry traded places with you then you grabbed his dick again and lined it up with your center. You sank down on him slowly, enjoying the sight of him coming unraveled.

He held on to your thighs until you placed both your hands over his and brought them to your breasts. “Keep touching me.”

Something about watching your chest rise and fall while you rocked your hips had Harry needing more. He grabbed you by the small of your back and pulled you close to him. He sat up and leveraged the headboard to thrust up into you, his hands back on your hips.

Eventually he felt the need to hold you even closer. He wrapped his arms around your torso and buried his face in your neck. When that wasn’t enough, he placed one hand on your ass helping you to grind into him. He brought his other hand up your spine and grasped the back of your neck.

“Y/N, quick—do I need to pull out?”

He sounded out of breath, and all wound up.

“No, Harry, just come.”

With that something in him snapped. He grabbed your head in both his hands, roughly dragging his thumbs over your lips. “Y/N, look at me.”

You grabbed his face too and held his stare as you felt his warm release spill inside you. He continued thrusting until he was spent, never letting go of your face. When he stilled, he rested his forehead against yours and closed his eyes.

He was the first to break the silence. “Well, that was quite something, huh?”

You laughed. “Jesus, Harry. You should just wife me right now because I don’t know how anything would ever feel that good ever again. You’ve ruined men for me so you should take some responsibility.”

Harry laughed that gorgeous full-chested laugh of his then tapped your thigh, indicating he wanted you to get off his lap. “Ah, careful, Y/N.” He was so sensitive over his penis sliding out of you. “I’ll be right back.”

You nodded and laid down on the bed. You told yourself that in a second you would get up and clean yourself, but for right now, you just needed a minute to catch your breath.

Harry got out of bed and slipped his pants back on. His first stop was to the hall closet for a hand towel. Next, he went to the kitchen and filled two glasses with ice and grabbed the bottle of Jack Daniel’s Tennessee Honey from the freezer. He turned on the tap in the kitchen sink and waited for the water to warm up. While he waited, he grabbed a bar of dark chocolate, knowing you couldn’t handle straight alcohol without something sweet.

Harry grabbed a serving tray off the counter and loaded everything on it before checking the water temperature. It was warm enough to sting his hand – just the right temperature for you. He soaked the towel thoroughly then wringed it out, trying not to burn himself on the hot water. How you enjoyed water that hot was beyond him.

When he got back to the room you were still in bed.

“Here, take this.” Harry set the tray on the bed and handed you a glass of ice. He filled it with chilled whiskey.

“Thank you, Harry. That’s so thoughtful.” You took a sip and grimaced even though you enjoyed the flavor.

“But wait! That’s not even the best part yet!”

Harry pulled the warm damp cloth from the tray and grabbed you by the back of your leg, just under your knee. It was one of your sensitive spots and was almost enough to make you want round two. He began wiping your thighs and cleaning you up.

“Wow. Aftercare? I’m impressed, Har. You this nice to all your partners?”

“A few,” he smiled up at you when you brought your glass to his lips and tilted it to give him a drink. You watched his throat as he swallowed. “Usually, I wear a condom so there isn’t this big of a mess.”

“Just a few? Aren’t I lucky, then?”

“You got that right,” he winked. “Only the best from my best friend. Look!” Harry reached behind him then held up the bar of dark chocolate. “I even remembered that you can’t drink it straight without something sweet.”

You giggled. “Wow. VIP treatment tonight.”

Harry finished cleaning you up the chucked the towel into a hamper near the bathroom door. You sat up and poured him a glass which he gladly accepted then laid down. You broke off a piece of chocolate and held it out to him. He grabbed it with his mouth and thanked you.

“What are we doing tomorrow?” Harry asked even though his mouth was still full of chocolate.

You sat up and faced him. “Depends. Do you wanna stick close and go into town or do you want to take a little drive to the coast?”

“Mmmm. That’s a tough one. Why don’t we play it by ear?”

You playfully nudged him. “You mean you don’t have tomorrow all planned out already? Another?”

“Yes, please.” Harry held his mouth open waiting for another piece of chocolate.

“If we stay in town, we can go to that cute little restaurant we saw on the way up.” You tapped his shoulder as if it would jog his memory.

Harry nodded his head but otherwise stayed quiet. He finished his drink then set it down on the tray at the end of the bed.

“I don’t know about you, but I think I need another shower. I worked up a good sweat and now my skin feels all tight and sticky.”

“Can I join?”

“That depends. Are you going to want the temperature scalding hot?”

“Maybe. But I know you love it when someone washes your back for you.”

“Alright, you can come with. But I want you to scrub my back really well. Few minutes at least.” Harry had a playful look in his eyes.

“Deal.”

“Well alright then. Lead the way,” Harry followed behind you, watching as you opened the glass door to the spacious shower and turned on the water.

You stuck your hand under the water and looked at Harry. “This good?”

Harry leaned into the shower stall, a hand on the small of your back. “I guess. Unless you’re willing to turn it down just a tiny bit?”

“Not a chance.” You stepped into the shower under the stream of water. He always knew you were beautiful, but tonight was something else.

“You’re making me want another round,” Harry smiled as he slipped off his pants and stepped in the shower, closing the door behind him.

“Funny, I was thinking that earlier when you were cleaning me up.” You twirled your finger in a motion that asked him to turn around. “Pass me the body wash please.”

Harry passed the bottle and waited until he felt you press a soapy loofah to his back. You placed your other hand on his back to steady yourself as you ran the loofah over his back and sides.

“You know, that was pretty good for me, too. Maybe we can do it again. I mean, there’s no harm, right?”

“Yeah. Until one of us gets into a new relationship,” you agreed.

Harry laughed, “Why would I need someone else?”

You hit him on the back with the loofah before scrubbing him. “What do you mean? I’m not sleeping with you while you’re sleeping with someone else.”

“No, that’s not what I mean. I mean, why would I need someone else when I have you? With you I have companionship, someone there when I need them. You give me advice and now I know that we can have some of the best sex I’ve ever had together? What more do I need? We already kind of plan our futures with the other in mind. So… why involve anyone else? I have it made now.”

Both of you laughed.

 “Here. You finish up.” You handed him the loofah and grabbed the shampoo. You began to wash his hair.

“What about love? You can live without someone to romantically love?” You ran your fingers through his hair, cleaning his curly brown locks.

“I don’t know, Y/N. You keep screwing me like that I think I could get to romantic love. I already love you; I just need a couple more orgasms like that to tip me over the edge.”

You held his arms for stability as you bent forward laughing. He held you back and joined in your laughter.

“You’re terrible. Wash up.” You pushed him under the water and watched as he closed his eyes and washed the shampoo from his hair.

“’Kay, your turn.” Harry lathered his palms with shampoo and worked it into your hair by massaging your scalp. You hummed with pleasure, loving it when someone rubbed your head.

“Remember Adriana?”

You didn’t open your eyes to answer him, “Of course. You were crazy about her.”

“I was. But we agreed we weren’t the best for each other.” Harry began to clean the rest of his body. “We actually argued once because she thought we were too close.”

“Sorry, Harry. She wasn’t too far off the mark, though. I mean, look at our history. And then this evening—” You trailed off not finishing your thought.

“Can’t argue that,” Harry chuckled.

Harry placed a hand on your waist to trade places with you so you could rise off.

“I think I’m good without a girlfriend. How about you? Think you’ll get back into the dating game?”

“I don’t know.” You turned to look at Harry. “Done?”

“Yeah. I’ll grab our towels.”

You turned off the water and Harry took a step outside of the shower stall and handed you a towel.

You continued your thought as you dried yourself. “I mean, I think I’m good for now. You’re right that we already have a lot of the components that make a relationship fulfilling. I wouldn’t mind exploring a more physical relationship with you because I already know I can be open and trust you.”

Harry grinned from ear to ear. “I’m always right.”

You playfully smacked his chest and moved past him out of the shower.

“Love you, Y/N.”

You smiled at him but didn’t say it back.

“Y/N! I said I love you.”

Again, you didn’t respond, only nodding. You knew Harry could not handle it when you didn’t say it back.

“Y/N! Say it back!”

Instead, you wrapped the towel around you tighter and scurried back to bed.

“Brat! Come here and say it back to me!”

Harry followed after you and grabbed you with both arms causing you to yelp. He pinned you to the bed and tickled you.

“Say it back, Y/N. Say you love me back and you can end this.”

“Harry, please!” You cried out between giggles.

“Just say it. Three words and I’ll let you go.”

“Ugh, you’re so annoying.”

“Wrong.” He wrapped your hair around his hand to expose your neck. He blew raspberries on the sensitive skin behind your ear.

“Okay, fine! I love you! Are you happy now? Shit!”

Harry playfully pushed your head into the bed and rolled off of you.

You acted mad but Harry knew better. “Was that so hard?”

“No, but I can’t let you have everything so easily. Someone has to keep you in check.”

“So like you. Difficult for no reason.” Harry winked but you still threw a pillow at him.

“You sleeping here?” You had already hung your towel up in the bathroom and crawled in bed again.

“Might as well. I’m already here, right?” He got in bed and pulled the blankets up to his waist. “Do you mind if I sleep naked?”

“I don’t think that after today you ever have to ask that question again.”

Harry chuckled. “Come here. Since we’re being touchy feely, I want to cuddle you in my sleep.”

You scooted closer and relaxed into his arms, your back against his warm chest. He swung a leg over your legs.

“Don’t get upset when my morning wood pokes you.”

“Harry! You’re terrible! Go to bed.”

“Y/N? Wake up. Your breakfast is gonna get cold.”

You opened your eyes to see that Harry had made omlettes with the leftovers from last night’s dinner.

“See, this is why I took the room with the view. I had tea in my room and still had time to make breakfast before you woke up. You missed a hell of a view.”

You smiled, and looked over at the clock and saw it wasn’t yet 9:00. “Dude, it’s still so early, I’m sure the view is just as nice now as whenever the hell you woke up.”

“You’re something else. Scoot over, would you?” He got in bed and handed you a plate then grabbed his from the bedside table.

When breakfast was done you put the dishes in the kitchen then brushed your teeth. You had yet to get dressed after last night’s shower.

“Hey, Y/N? I’m feeling very frustrated again.”

You laughed, “are you now?”

“Come here.” Harry patted the bed beside him.

When you came near enough, he placed a hand on the side of your face and pulled you in for a kiss. You laid on the bed next to him and he immediately brought a hand between your legs.

“Are you always so eager?” You smirked at him and gave him a quick peck on the lips.

“You have no idea. You better get used to it. Especially if you insist on walking around with nothing on.”

Any response you had dried in your throat. Your mind couldn’t focus on anything else other than the growing pleasure between your legs.

“Y/N. I want to try something with you.”

Harry looked at you nervously, but you only smiled. “Anything.”

“You’re going to regret having said that,” Harry said with a mischievous grin. He laid down on his stomach between your legs. “Still with me?”

“Yes.” You could barely breathe. The anticipation only made you more wet.

Harry wrapped his hands around your thighs and began to kiss your legs, making his way to your core. You let out a low, breathy moan. Even when he was teasing Harry was amazing. Without warning he licked your folds, causing you to cry out. He sucked on your clit before lapping up more of your arousal. He added his fingers and slowly pumped in and out of you, watching you squirm.

“Harry. Come here. I need to feel you.” You ran your hands through his hair.

Harry seemed to be ignoring you. He licked at your insides while he continued to pump his fingers. You caught how he was grinding his hips on the bed and felt a shiver run through your body.

“I’m so close,” you panted.

Harry moaned in response then brought his thumb up to rub your clit. His tongue was still lapping at your folds and licking your insides. Before long you felt yourself shaking as you climaxed.

When your legs had stopped trembling Harry climbed up your body. He kissed you deeply and pressed his body to yours, grinding against your hips. You were so slick he plunged into you without having to guide himself into you.

“You feel so good, Y/N. I’m never leaving this spot between your legs.”

As Harry pumped into you, you thrust to meet his hips. Deep and desperate moans filled the room along with the sounds of your bodies slapping together and the bed creaking.

“Fuck, I’m getting close.”

You wrapped your arms around him in response and dug your heels into his ass in an attempt to bury him deeper within you.

“Y/N, do I have to pull out?” Harry was panting, not slowing his pace at all.

“Inside. Always inside. Give me everything you got.”

With that, Harry came. He drained himself inside of you, his hips only slowing to a stop when he became too sensitive. Harry kissed you with a big smile on his face then laid down next to you. He rubbed your lower stomach—something you could get used to.

“You know, if we keep going raw like that we’re going to end up with an unplanned pregnancy. Especially with how forgetful you are with your meds.”

You smacked his chest playfully. “Hey! I am so much better now. It’s been ages since I’ve forgotten.”

Harry smiled and kissed you on your forehead.

“We should probably invest in condoms. I’m going to want to do this all the time. We could put them on an auto delivery.” You giggled and interlaced your fingers with Harry’s.

“Yeah. I’ll look into it as soon as we get back home.” Harry fell silent for a moment, lost in thought. “Or I could just get a vasectomy. Unless you want kids. Do you want kids?”

“Harry!” You burst out laughing. “We just started this…friends with benefits thing yesterday. Now you’re talking about vasectomies and children?”

“It’s a conversation we should have if we’re going to be sleeping together. Have you changed your mind since the last time we talked about kids?”

“You’re right,” you sighed. “Uh, no. I haven’t changed my mind.”

“Well, your whole ‘if it happens, it happens’ stance is not a solid plan.” He laughed before kissing your forehead. “Such a wishy-washy approach could make things difficult later if something unplanned does happen.”

“What would you do if we go back home, and a couple weeks from now I miss my period. What do you want? Could you raise a kid with your best friend?”

“Absolutely. We’d be great parents.”

“Be serious!” You laughed, causing Harry to laugh too. You cuddled up to him and rested your head on his chest. He wrapped his arms around you and gave you a loving squeeze.

“So, we actively take steps to make sure it doesn’t happen. Which may or may not include a vasectomy so I can keep enjoying you without a barrier between us.”

“Sounds like a solid plan.”

“But it still doesn’t address the unplanned. What’s our move then?”

“Um…then we have a child. We raise it with all the love we can.”

“I can handle that.”

Harry rested his head against yours and went quiet again. You were rubbing his arm when Harry blurts out, more to himself than to you, “what if we just get married now?”

“The fuck is going on in your head that that is where you ended up?”

“No, listen. I’ve been telling you for years your insurance is too expensive, whereas mine is quite reasonable. If we do become parents-to-be it would be so much cheaper and convenient to have you on my insurance plan.”

“So, I’ll join your insurance plan. Why do I have to marry you for that?”

“Because I don’t have the option to add best friends to my plan. Immediate family only like spouses.”

“Okay, well, if that happens Vegas is only a 6-hour drive from home. We’ll get married and I’ll get on your insurance plan. Deal?”

“Deal.” He snuggled you closer.

“You know, if this is your idea of pillow talk, I no longer wonder why your relationships haven’t worked out.”

Harry playfully shoved your face away onto your own pillow. “Brat.”

“Damn. Maybe we should get married. Think of what we’d save not paying for two mortgages.”

 “Now you’re talking. I’ll start planning the wedding.” Harry chuckled then winked at you.

“You should probably start planning for a future where I leave you and move across the country because you drive me insane.”

“So, what’s the plan for today?” You looked up at him expectantly.

“Shower first?”

“Fine. But this time you have to scrub my back!”

Part Two

[russellsppttemplates]

I don't think you'll ever have to find out (Carlos Sainz)

The lack of contract for next season has been pushing Carlos to extremes and friends and family have noticed it

Note: english is not my first language. First Carlos big piece 🫶 I hope you enjoy reading it 😊

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: mentions some anxiety and burnout symptoms

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3

"Hmmmm", you hummed as you felt the mattress move a little before the warm sheets approached your body instead of the warm body that laid under them before.

"Shh, it's just me, cariño", Carlos lulled you, "go back to sleep, it's still early", he kissed your forehead softly as the tucked you in properly.

"Where are you going since it's still early then?", you wondered groggily, "I'm going for a run, I'll be back to have breakfast with you, okay? I love you", he kissed your forehead again before he grabbed his workout clothes and stepped into the ensuite.

When you woke up a few hours later, you could hear water running from the shower, assuming Carlos had got back from his run.

Opening the windows and pulling the sheets to the end of the bed so the whole room could air out, you put on your slippers and one of your boyfriend's hoodies, heading downstairs to start on breakfast. After a quick look at the meal plan left by his trainer, you retrieved the ingredients from the pantry and fridge, toasting, whisking and flipping what you needed to when you heard footsteps joining you on the kitchen.

"Good morning, beautiful", Carlos said as he hugged you from your back, his lips kissing under your ear softly before he looked at what you were making, "smells nice", he murmured before you turned your head slightly so you could kiss his cheek.

"Here you go", you smiled as you handed Carlos the plates to carry to the table while you carried your drinks.

"Gracias, my love", he smiled back as he sat down, taking a sip from his mug and starting light conversation between you two.

"I need to go to the school to get some forms from the secretariat service and some of the kids' tests I forgot to bring home", you began telling him your plans for the day, "I'll mark them when I get home, but we might have some time to spend together in the afternoon".

"I have a meeting with my engineers to analyse data and then I have a sponsor event as well, I have to go there, give an interview and hang around for a bit - I think I'm going to be home for dinner though", he explained his schedule, "but you can use the office, don't worry", he smiled, kissing the top of your head once he finished eating, taking both plates with him back to the kitchen.

"I love you, handsome, have a good day!", you said, kissing his lips once you left the house, knowing he wasn't going to be there when you arrived back from school.

The secretariat services were quicker than usual in getting you the paperwork you needed so you were able to go to your classroom next. As you were making sure everything was in place and none of the kids had left anything out during the holidays, you looked for the tests.

"Hi, Y/N! What are you doing here?", your colleague from the classroom next to yours wondered after she announced her presence with a light knock on your door.

"Hello! I could ask you the same thing, hm?", you chuckled, "I left the tests here and they're not going to mark themselves", you waved the folder in your hand.

"Carlos isn't racing this week?", she asked. You had been classroom buddies for over five years so you had gotten to know eachother pretty well and felt comfortable enough around eachother to ask such questions.

"No, he's racing next weekend though, I'm flying out to see him and then flying back in a hurry so I can teach without taking many days off", you offered.

"Sounds good then! Good luck with all of those, my little ones had some trouble with these last tests, I must say", she added.

"I haven't even looked at them properly to be honest, but I'm sure they did their best", you recalled, waving at her as she said goodbye before putting everything you needed in your bag and leaving as well.

When you arrived back home, you walked straight to the office, arranging your desk in a way that your organisation system worked: to be marked, marked, and the double checked tests, along with space for you laptop so you could insert the data straight on the platform.

The pause you had for lunch was spent on the balcony, soaking up the sun rays while you ate and allowed your mind to escape the math problems and the water cycle drawings your little ones made.

It started when you were a teenager and wanted to earn a little extra money, wanting to buy things yourself and the small independence that came with it, so you started offering help to your neighbours' kids with their homework in exchange of a small amount of money. Over the years, it got a little more serious and grew outside of your neighbourhood because you enjoyed it so much and the kids and their parents loved the work you did, and when it to came to choosing a career you'd see yourself working in happily, teaching little ones sounded perfect. Years later, it still brought a smile to your face every single day.

You were measuring the rice quantity for you and Carlos when he arrived, "cariño, are you in the kitchen?", you heard him ask once he shut the door.

"Yes, my love, just getting dinner ready", you called back, washing your hands once you were done while he stepped closer to you. Drying your hands on a kitchen towell, you left it on the counter once your boyfriend joined you in the room, "did you have a good day?", you mumbled against his lips before stealing a big kiss from him.

"It was good, did what needed to be done, and you? Are your little geniuses getting good grades this term?", he smiled, lacing his arms around your waist and pulling you closer to him.

"They did so well! I'm so proud of them, they barely had any spelling mistakes and they drew these pretty drawings on the side - I have to show you, come look!", you pulled his hand to follow you to the office, feeling his tiredness in his movements and stalling, "I can show you later - how about a cuddle in the sofa while dinner cooks?", you suggested as you noticed him nod, "sounds nice", he kissed your hand as you pulled him to the living room, letting you rest your body against his for a little bit as he told you a little more about his day.

"Sounds tiring", you mumbled, tracing random shapes on his clothed chest, "it's fine, part of the job", he shrugged as he looked at his watch, "dinner should be ready soon, no? I'll help you with the table", he kissed your forehead before you got up and sorted the meal for the two of you.

By the time you were done, cleaning up was easy and quick. Carlos suggested you retired to the bedroom early, doing your night-time routines before cuddling on the bed.

"How about a movie?", you suggested, flickering the streaming platforms to find something to watch.

"I might fall asleep in the middle of it, you won't get too mad if I do?", he smiled, kissing your cheek multiple times.

"Of course I won't be mad, love! I'd never be mad for that", you cooed, looking up at his eyes as he tried his hardest to blink the sleep away, "I'll keep the volume down and the brightness low, you sleep all you want, okay?", you checked with him, sealing your request with a kiss on his lips, "sleep well, my love".

Carlos pulled you closer to him, your scent and steady heartbeat lulling him to sleep quickly, leaving you to smile at his peaceful features when you glanced away from the screen every now and again.

.

"You look so gorgeous! My teacher was never this stylish!", Blanca said as she greeted you once you stepped inside her car, setting your bag on the seat next to yours and squeezing her shoulder as well as her mother's, "hello hello! Thank you for inviting me, I've been needing a wardrobe change now that the temperatures are warmer", you smiled as they squeezed your hand back before you put your seatbelt on.

"It's been a while since I've seen you, dear, how have you been?", Reyes asked you while her daughter drove off to the spot where they wanted to spend the afternoon shopping.

"The little ones have been keeping me busy, now that they're on school break, it's a little bit calmer", you replied.

"That's nice, you shouldn't run yourself to the point of exhaustion - no matter how much you love it, you should also take care of yourself! You and Carlos are very much alike on that - your work ethic is excellence", she winked through the rear view mirror.

You agreed with your boyfriend's mother. Both you and Carlos worked extremely hard to get to the point you were in now and sometimes you needed someone - often eachother - to pull you out of a overworking spiral.

When Blanca was trying on a dress, you and Reyes sat on the small sofa while you waited for her and conversation flowed easily like usual, "how has Carlos been? It's been a while since I've seen him too", she wondered.

"He's been working a lot - being without a contact prospect for next year has obviously had a big impact on him", you began, "to be completely honest, I worry he is overdoing it. It's meeting after meeting, then all the workouts he goes on - I'm happy he's healthy for it, but too much of something is never good, right?", you shared.

"I've noticed it, too - I wasn't just asking", she smirked softly, "but I wanted to confirm it with you, a mother's instinct is always worried for her children and maybe part of me was hoping I was just exaggerating".

"I've tried to make sure he feels all the support he has and just be there for him, but I think it's all him, pushing to be better and better", you expressed your worries.

"What do you think about us having dinner at your place? Not to invite myself - even though that's what it is-, but maybe he would feel better and more inclined for a yes? Last times I invited you two for dinner with us he said he had things planned and the plans fell through", she said.

"Sounds nice, don't worry about inviting yourselves in", you chuckled as she gently squeezed your shoulder, "I'm going to suggest it to him, thank you", you squeezed her hand.

"We should be the ones thanking you", Blanca said as she stepped out, leaving you to assume she heard some of the conversation, "you've been his safe place for so long and continue to do so no matter the conditions", she smiled, "you're making sure my very hard headed brother is looking after himself and being looked after - the love you have for eachother is all we could've wanted for Carlitos", she hugged you, "now do we think this looks nice as it is or is it borderline making me look like a cloud?", she looked at the piece of clothing on her body.

You were pulled out of sleep when you heard Carlos mumbled something incoherent, and turning to face him, the sweat on his forehead evidencing that he was probably having a nightmare.

"Amor, hey - wake up, amor, wake up", you shook him awake, "it's just a nightmare, you're okay, you're okay", you coaxed him as he opened his eyes, turning on his bedside lamp while you held onto his hand.

"I woke you up? I'm sorry", he apoligised, voice groggy as he tried to catch his breath and bring his heart rate back to normal.

"It's okay, amor", you smiled, kissing his cheek and brushing the hairs away that were stuck to his forehead, "do you want to talk about it?".

Did he want to talk about it? The nightmares that kept occurring and keeping him up, only until now they had only woken him up? They had been happening for about a month now. He would wake up all sweaty and his breathing erratic, and more often than not, he wouldn't be able to fall asleep again, so he stayed awake thinking about all the possibilities of how his employment situation would be for next year and all of the ways he could improve his performance.

"It's fine", he gulped, "let's go back to sleep, okay?", he encouraged.

You knew better than to push him at that moment, so you cuddled up to him, holding him too as you kissed his chest, "I'm right here, nothing bad is going to happen to you, I'll make sure of it", you whispered before he turned the light off, wanting to believe you so badly and to sleep without his mind running a million miles an hour.

.

It really was taking up a lot of his mind - as well as your and his family's worries - and how it was soon going to be too much if he didn't manage everything well, and after his mother's conversation with you, you knew you needed to do something.

"My love, can I talk to you for a second?", you asked as you walked inside the office, seeing his sat in the long sofa instead of at the desk, "sure, come here, cariño", he urged, tidying some of the papers and notebooks so you could sit.

"I'm not going to bat around the bush, this is going to be straight off the bat - me and your family are concerned you're running yourself harder than you should, and if you keep going at this rate, you're going to burnout soon", you tried, rubbing his thigh softly and encouraging him to really think about it.

He pondered his words for a bit, "I have to do all I'm doing, Y/N, if I stop, I'll fall behind - it's bad enough as it is", he argued.

"But it's not doing you any good, handsome, you're more tired, you barely spend time with your family, with me even", you argued back. You didn't want to play that card or make him feel like he was failing you, that wasn't the point, "you're not doing the things that bring you joy outside of your work, and it shows", you attempted again.

"I have to keep working, I can try and make more time for them, but I can't miss my workouts and these data analysis sessions", he reasoned, "there's so much at stake here and I can't miss any of it because I'm unprepared or unfit".

"Handsome, I never wanted you to stop all of a sudden - and I knew you wouldn't anyway, I know who I'm dating, believe it or not", you smiled, "all I'm saying is you need to protect yourself too, have a place to just be yourself and let loose for a bit", you grabbed his hand and brought it to your mouth, kissing his knuckles.

"I will try my best", Carlos stated, "I'm sorry if I've been neglecting you", he said and you shook your head.

"No worries, now come and help me because your parents are coming over for dinner!", you have him a cheeky smile, pulling him to the kitchen and away from work for the rest of the day.

"This had my mother's hand on it, didn't it?", he wondered.

"She told me she was worried, and I agreed - so I took matters into my own hands because we knew you wouldn't let your mother tell you half of what I told you", you pulled him to you, hugging him tight, "we love you so much, I love you so much - and things are going to work out for you, I know they will", you kissed his clothed chest before looking up at him, "we all want you to be happy at what you do and you're doing the best you can - the universe will do the rest, amor".

"What would I do without you?", Carlos asked, kissing your lips passionately.

"Lucky for you, I don't think you'll ever have to find out", you smiled.

[yoredoesmore]

Hello! I saw you opening request again, can I have a request for soshiro and fem reader where they spend time each other for holiday?

Maybe they're having a cafe date in this cold season or maybe ice skating or spend time alone together?

Memories of Snow | Hoshina Soshiro

pairing: Hoshina Soshiro x Fem!Reader

genre: /romance/fluff overload

summary: You take your boyfriend out on a cute date to help him relax during the holidays.

wc: 1,7k

a/n: I'm falling to my knees, rubbing my hands together and apologizing for taking this long for your request. please accept my apology anon please please please 😣

Enjoy :>

It was that time of the year again. Tokyo sat covered in a crystal white blanket and the freezing temperatures urged everyone to take out their coats and fuzzy winter scarfs. Christmas lights illuminated the streets and the smell of baked goods and hot chocolate lingered in the air.

It was a beautiful time to be, and your favorite.

Your mitten covered hands tried their best to work the phone in your hands. The cold air threatened to dry out your skin the second it came in contact with it, which is why you refused to take them out of the warm fabric. You knew better now.

It was already five past seven and Soshiro had yet to respond to all your messages.

“Im ag the Christmas makest where eate hiu”

Soshiro has long adjusted to your typos, therefore you did not bother to correct your mistakes (not that it was possible with these things on anyway).

Worried that something might have happened to the man, you tried to dial his number but upon the first sound ringing up, you felt a hand wrap around your wrist.

“Someone's impatient.” Soshiro placed a gentle hand on your cheeks before leaning in for a kiss. His lips moved gently over yours, capturing your heart in a swift motion.

“Yes, because you're usually on time.” You rolled your eyes in a playful manner as you pulled away from him and smiled, immediately forgiving his actions.

“So, what does my Snow Angel have planned for us?” His hands wrapped around your fuzzy mittens. One thing you have noticed was that Soshiro loved matching your nickname to whatever season or event was currently taking place. It was a cute habit of his, one that you have gotten deeply attached to.

The both of you began to walk down the christmas market, taking in the beautiful scenery around you and the sweet smell of roasted almonds. You have been looking forward to this day ever since he got the green light to take this day off. Attending the christmas market was like a tradition, one the both of you have grown quite fond of.

“Sooo, it occurred to me that we never went ice skating together and lucky us, the market renovated their ice skating rink! I got us two tickets for that and afterwards we can grab something to eat and look around a bit more.”

While you were talking, Soshiro couldn't help but lose himself in your presence. your eyes shone with such anticipation and joy, it caused his heart to melt the cold around him away.

He was always so on edge at work, as the vice president it was his duty to take care of everything around him and protect his division after all. It was a constant pressure that rested on his shoulders. But with you around him, that weight was lifted and he was able to enjoy the moment.

When it came to dates specifically, it was usually you who took care of everything. The reservations, the schedule, the dress code– you loved taking care of it all. Of course it was always nice to see Soshiro handle those things when he found the time but most of the time, all he had to do was show up and take care of the financial aspects.

Upon arriving at the skating rink, you noticed how many people were already enjoying the sports. Couples, families and friends danced around on the ice, having an enjoyable time. You have been looking forward to this for ages now and you couldn't wait to try this out with your boyfriend. But as you turned around to look at his face, he had a..less excited expression on.

“What's wrong, Soshiro?” you asked, pulling your tickets out of your bag.

“Don't tell me that you have never done this before.” Your words were meant to be taken as a joke, you didn't even look at him as you spoke that sentence but when Soshiro didn't laugh or make any other signs that he hadn't taken your words to heart, you paused in your actions.

“No way..”

“It's not that big of a deal, I mean how hard can this be.” The man crossed his arms over his chest, the usual sassy expression hanging on his lips. He was avoiding eye contact as well, what a cutie.

You wanted to tease Soshiro for this. Poke at his ego a little and drop a few jokes but you decided against your worse judgment. Your boyfriend was amazing at many things, so many that it was painful to compare your achievements. Thus, having him admit that he was unable to do such simple thing as holding himself up on the ice did feel like a win for you.

This was going to be interesting.

*

He was exceptional.

Soshiro moved on the ice as if he was born to do so. Your boyfriend made it seem effortless, keeping his posture while elegantly moving through the crowd. It was a sight to behold, watching the man who almost stumbled over himself upon entering the icy rink now holding himself up like it was nothing.

Meanwhile you stood in the corner, admiring his skills.

You had told him that you needed a break but in reality you simply wished to admire the man.

It should not have been that much of a surprise to you, after all you were well aware of his abilities as noted before. The master of blades and swift movements was bound to find his calling on the ice. And not to mention– he looked unbelievably handsome.

Once the lap was finished, Soshiro returned to your side. His chest heaved up and down in order to regain his stamina and his rapid breaths visualized in the cold evening wind as misty clouds.

“This is funnier than expected.” Soshiro smiled, placing his hands on his hips.

“You sure are enjoying yourself, Soshiro.”

“Sure am. My girlfriend is excellent at picking fun activities after all.”

A knock of wind suddenly hit your face as you found yourself being dragged back into the center of the ring. “Let's try it together!”

Soshiro didn't even wait for your answer as he urged your stiff body closer to his. But you did not complain nor refuse, as you were all too used to Soshiro's sudden antics and therefore simply followed behind him.

You haven't laughed like this since breakfast this morning. Soshiro held your hands while moving along to the music. Your feet followed him, matching his pace and rhythm. The people around you almost became nonexistent in your eyes– it was simply the two of you who existed in the moment.

He held your hands as you tried a trick and pulled you back up after failing miserably. But you just laughed it off, not paying the failure any attention.

But before you knew it an hour passed and it was time to clear the ice. Soshiro and you went for one last round before the magical time was over.

“What a bummer. I could have gone for another hour.”

Hearing him say this earned a smile out of you. The smile on your face sat brightly as you wrapped your hand around his and pulled him along.

“The day's not over, so let's find something else to do!” Soshiro welcomed your enthusiasm by giving your hands a soft squeeze.

You ended up walking around the market for another hour, relishing in the festive spirit, enjoying the moment and stopping by almost every food stand. And just when you believed that the night could not go any better it started snowing.

Tiny crystals of ice landed on your skin and melted on impact. This was no weather to return home to, Soshiro said and guided you towards the nearby river.

Less people now walked the street but those who were outside enjoyed the view of the water along with the snow.

“Remember last year, when we went to the christmas market and it started snowing just like this? A little earlier than now but it was so beautiful.”

“And so cold as well. Yer fingers almost froze off.” The both of you laughed at the memory, the image of you desperately trying to heat up your fingers by rubbing them against each other so clear in your mind.

You were about to continue the story, when all of a sudden you found your arms being lifted up to your chest. One by one, Soshiro removed your mittens, until your fingers stood exposed in the cold winter air.

“Instead of buying yourself gloves Y/n, ya asked me to hold yer hand instead, but im pretty sure that mine were just as cold as yours."

Soshiro chuckled. "And I wasn't allowed to wear my gloves anymore either, ya said somethin bout 'let's suffer together'. Froze my one hand off that day but the other one did feel kinda warm."

And just like that, Soshiro took your hand in his and smiled. It wasn't a grin or one of his sheepish smiles but one that instantly warmed your hands and heart.

“So..would it be selfish of me to ask you to do the same for me now?”

Your words temporarily got stuck in your throat as you found yourself unable to answer him. Soshiro was so smooth with his words, catching you off guard in the moments you least expected it. But most importantly, he was sweet and caring and meant everything he said.

“You're already holding them, silly.” You somehow managed to reply, slightly flustered by his tender smile.

“And I already feel so much better.” He replied, pocketing our mittens with a sheepish smile.

The snow continued to fall over the world as the two of you walked down the river, hand in hand, while enjoying the beautiful scenery and old memories.

[samsno1]

Surprise

Sam Winchester x F!Reader

I'm a littleeeee late for his birthday one-shot but I did it! Happy Birthday Sammy, the biggest comfort character that I have and the reason for my obsession with a 15 season TV show

Summary: The morning of Sam's birthday didn't go according to planned - in the best way possible

Warnings: PURE FLUFF, naked-ness and hints of sexual intercourse but literally nothing happens, english is not my first language

WC: 1.7k

enjoy!

It was hilarious. The way Sam tried for so long to not bother you about his birthday. Brushing it off, claiming it was nothing, saying you never needed to do much for him because just your presence was enough to make him happy. It was cute but you never bought it, this year was the same thing.

You had woken up later than him that morning, noticed when you didn’t feel the warmth of his chest on your bare back and his hands holding you close like he did the night before. You wondered how he did it, the man kept you up all night and still was able to get up at six for his morning run. Either way, Sam usually went on runs early to clear his head and you knew his birthday was somewhat of a taboo for him – damn John Winchester. He wasn’t very open about it but, from what you knew about his father in the years you knew Sam and Dean, you could have an idea of why he didn’t take his birthday as an important date.

You got up, discarding the sheets, the cold hitting your naked body making goosebumps rise over your skin. The room was an absolute mess, your clothes and Sam’s scattered all around, half the sheet on the ground along with a pillow that you probably pushed off the bed to make up some space. You smiled to yourself feeling the warmth on your cheeks – it has been three years since you started dating Sam and five since you met him and he still managed to make you feel like it was your first time all over again.

You gathered some clean clothes of yours and decided to hop on the shower to really wake up and, since Sam never ate breakfast before a run, you wanted to start his special day with his favorite breakfast – made by you. Sam always appreciated anything you did for him, be it the simplest thing as breakfast or complex things such as, well, saving his life. Dean always teased about Sam being madly in love with you ever since he first laid his eyes on you. Little did he know it was practically the same for you too. The pining was terrible and you only noticed how embarrassing it truly was after you started dating. You assumed, though, it was always like that, what matters is that it worked out and it was one of the best decisions of your life to start a relationship with Sam Winchester.

You thought about all kinds of things you could do to surprise Sam later. He wasn’t much for parties and only drank casually – unlike his brother. He liked Celine Dion but you thought it would be too dismissive to buy a vinyl of hers for his birthday. To sum it up, Sam was a hard guy to buy gifts for because everything he told you when you asked what he liked to get was I don’t need much sweetheart, just give me anything and I’ll be more than happy. Ugh, such a cliché thing to say to your girlfriend.

While you were cooking the eggs you heard the loud noise of the metal door to the bunker closing and immediately smiled to yourself knowing your birthday boy had arrived. He ran down the stairs and you were able to hear his tired breaths from afar. You always wondered why he liked running so much, catching yourself thinking of all the different reasons why he might feel the need to run every morning. Maybe it was just great to workout, maybe he just needed some time alone, maybe he just likes the fresh air from time to time, either way, you weren’t by any means going to complain about waking up on an empty bed every now and again – it was one of the things he enjoyed, you weren’t going to ruin it for him.

You felt strong – and slightly sweaty – arms wrap around your waist from behind and soft lips kissing the side of your neck, a light hum coming out of his mouth as he smelled your perfume. “Good morning, Sweetheart” He whispered against your skin.

“Good morning baby, I’m making breakfast for you birthday boy” You said.

You felt him smile over your neck, and one of his hands snaked up and grasped your chin, turning your face to him. He quickly looked at your eyes, then your lips, leaning in to leave a long peck over them. You sighed dreamily through your nose, turning your body around completely to him, making him adjust his other hand on your waist. When he pulled away Sam was looking at you with the most loving eyes you had ever witnessed – well, he always looked at you like that.

“You didn’t have to”

“I wanted to, don’t start” You countered. You would’ve ran a hand through his hair, hugged him tight and showered him in kisses but, first, he needed an actual shower – his front strands were shining with sweat. “Now” You laid a hand over his chest “go take a shower so that I can greet you properly and for you to eat”

He lowered both his hands to your waist again and you felt his thumbs under your shirt, caressing your bare skin. He seemed to not have registered a word you said as he just stared dreamily at your face.

“Thank you” He said suddenly. You felt a seriousness in his tone, something more than just thanking you for making him food. The words hung heavy on his tongue and in your ears, your brain trying to process what he really meant by them. You knew that in ‘Winchester’ – or better, the way Sam and Dean spoke about feelings – ‘thank you’ could mean a thousand different things and emotions and this time it definitely wasn’t just for the eggs.

Sam noticed the confusion on your face, your beautiful eyes trying to read through his and figure it out. You were a smart woman, Sam knew that. He also knew you would not just take that thank you as something simple, specially with the way he said it. Truth was, Sam wanted to say so much more, to drown you in his words, to fill your body with emotions but he was just too scared. Every time he felt the need to tell you more, the constriction in his throat was stronger, the nervousness in his body was overwhelming and he would just not say exactly what he wanted to say. The velvet box hung heavy in the pocket of his shorts.

“For what?” You asked, almost in a whisper, eyebrows furrowed.

“For being you” He said and watched as a beautiful smile opened in your face. It’s now or never Sam, do it, fucking do it.

He let go of your waist, still smiling at you. Sam had told you before that nothing was a better gift for him than having you in his life. He meant that. He meant every single word. So, yeah, Sam Winchester faked going for a run this morning. Sam Winchester actually went to pick up a ring he had ordered a week ago. Sam Winchester wasn’t actually sweaty, he had thrown water on his front strands to fake it because you were so smart to the point you’d notice that he didn’t go for a run if his hair was dry.

Sam Winchester was on his knees in front of you, a beautiful golden ring inside a velvet box in his hand.

You were frozen as tears started to well up, your eyes glossy. “Sam..”

“You’re one of the many reasons I’m still here” He began “You make every breath I take worth it, you turned my world upside down the moment I saw you, you make me aspire to be better every single day. I look at you and I see life, a future and the forever love of my life” He took a breath, the constriction in his throat wasn’t beating him now, it wasn’t going to stop him. “I can’t see myself without you anymore so, please, if you’d give me the pleasure…____ ____, will you marry me?”

Your heart was beating so fast and so loud you could feel it in your ears, tears were falling down your cheeks as Sam held your shaky hand in his. You’ve never felt happier, you’ve never wanted to scream this loud or cry this much. He was going to be the death of you.

“Yes!” You nodded aggressively, smiling wide “Yes, yes, God, a thousand times yes!”  You said loudly and Sam stood up with the intention of putting the ring around your finger but you just couldn’t hold back your happiness. 

As soon as he was up, you threw yourself at him, your arms around his neck and he almost lost his balance, swaying on his feet. You sobbed on his shoulder as he hugged you tight to him. You pulled back to look in his eyes and saw nothing but love, nothing but happiness and gave him a long kiss.

You pulled away and finally let him put the ring around your finger as you stared emotionally at it, the gold shining beautifully against your skin. When he looked at your face again he smiled, his dimples showing and his cheeks red.

“I was supposed to surprise you today” You said with feigned anger as you stared into his eyes. Sam shook his head and chuckled.

“I told you, there’s no gift I’d rather have than you”

“You’re so corny”

“You love it”

“Yeah, I love it…I love you”

“I love you” And he kissed you again, his hands holding your cheeks as if you were made of glass. You held his wrists to keep him there…Until the smell of something burning hit your nose and you pulled back with wide eyes.

“Oh Jesus Christ, the food!” You said desperately, turning around to turn the stove off. Sam just laughed at you, his fianceé, trying to swat the smoke away with your hand as you poured water over the brunt eggs. Yeah, best gift ever.

A/N: Notes and reblogs encourage me to keep writing, feedback makes those writings better. Thank you for reading XoXo

[angegiarratanawriter]

I'll Be Home For Christmas

Warnings: Smut

Word Count: 4659

Summary: After two years of dating but being apart from most of it, you move to LA just in time to surprise Angela for the holidays

A/N: Here's to me actually getting this out on time, unlike anything I've written this year. This is for @thesixthimmortal. I hope you enjoy it, and I hope everyone has a happy holidays.

Being an actress has always been your dream. You can distinctly remember the moment where you made up your mind, no more than four years old, telling your parents that you were going to be on TV one day. And you would be. You have been. For the better part of the last five years, you’ve been starring in one of the most popular TV shows to air in the US. The only problem is, being an actress isn’t what you’ve been dreaming about lately.

Two years ago, on a summer long filming break, you ended up in Los Angeles. Cliche, you know, but it had just seemed like the place to be at the time. That’s where you met Angela, a fellow actor and comedian who had caught your eye at a networking event. She had approached you first, much more confident than you are, but from the moment you started talking, you had never felt more seen.

Never having felt like that before, you decided to do something completely uncharacteristic and give Angela your number. It was an olive branch, one that you half expected her not to use, but she texted you the next day and everything just took off. You went from texting to facetiming to hanging out in person every chance you got in the span of two weeks, and at the end of week three, she asked you out on a date. Of course, you said yes.

The rest of that summer was filled with a whirlwind of emotions. Being with Angela was refreshing, it made you feel like you mattered for more than what you could do on a screen. She made you happy, happier than you’d ever been. By the time fall was right around the corner and September was knocking on your door, you knew you were in love with her, and that made leaving so much harder.

Going back to New York that first year was the hardest thing you’ve ever done. Being back on set, away from your girlfriend, just felt so wrong. It felt like you were suddenly missing a part of yourself, like half of you stayed in LA when you left. The texts and the phone calls were barely enough, but somehow you made it through filming the whole season without just up and quitting.

As soon as you wrapped, you hopped on a plane back to LA. Getting to see Angela again after seven months away was like coming home, and it was then that you realized that she was the one. Every moment you spent together from then on, you found yourself wondering what it would be like to wake up by her side every morning, and fall asleep with her every night. Slowly but surely, your dream started to change, and you knew it was time to make a decision.

Getting out of your contract was tough, but your agency had gone to bat for you and made sure that a fair deal was struck. You had agreed to stay on for eight additional episodes, and in return, they agreed to release you from your contract early. As much as you hated that you had to go back at all, you knew that this deal was best for everyone. It gave the writers time to wrap up your character’s arc, and you time to get everything ready on your end.

When the summer came to an end, you left again, but this time you knew you’d be home sooner than expected. At first, you had wanted to tell Angela that you were leaving your show and moving to LA right away, but the producers had made you sign an NDA so that they could announce your departure on their terms.

Keeping the secret to yourself had been hard at first, but the longer you were away, the more you saw it as an opportunity to surprise Angela. After all, you were supposed to finish filming two weeks before Christmas, and you think that you moving to LA would be one hell of a present. So, you started planning.

In the span of a little over two months, you found an apartment downtown and rented it, canceled the lease on your New York apartment and packed up, shipped all of your stuff to LA, hired people to set up your new apartment for you, and filmed half a season of a TV show. By the end of it, you were exhausted, but it was so, so worth it.

Now, you’re on a plane back to LA, anxiously tapping your foot as you run through the plan in your head one last time. As soon as you land, a driver that your management has commissioned will pick you up and drive you over to your apartment so that you can drop your stuff off. Then, you’re going to get right back into the car and head over to the Smosh studio to surprise your girlfriend at work. Everything is all set up, it’s all about the execution now.

As soon as the plane lands, you deboard and head out to the Arrivals Pick Up area. There are a couple of photographers camped out by the doors, and when they notice you, they start snapping pictures. A couple even yell a few questions at you, but you just ignore them, heading straight out the exit and to the dark colored SUV that is waiting. The driver takes your bags and puts them in the trunk as you hop into the back seat, and soon enough, you’re on your way.

The trip to your apartment is quick, with you literally just retrieving your key from the building manager and chucking your stuff inside. As soon as you’ve locked up, you head back to the car and give your driver the address you want him to drop you off at. It takes a little bit longer to get to your destination this time, as the Smosh studio is on the outskirts of the city. As you pull through the front gate, you take out your phone to send a quick text.

Y/N: I’m out front.

Amanda: Coming to let you in now! Can’t wait to see you!

Angela’s best friend texts you back immediately, and you smile at her enthusiasm. While you haven’t had the most time to get to know each other, you’ve hung out a few times and your girlfriend talks about her a lot. Enough for you to know that she’s a great person and someone who you eventually want to call your friend as well.

When the car stops in front of the studio, your driver hops out of the car and opens your door for you. You give him a smile and a nod in thanks before taking out your phone and Venmoing him a decent sized tip. As you go to slip your cell back into your pocket, the studio door opens, and you look up to see Amanda walking out. She gives you a huge smile and immediately comes over to wrap her arms around you.

“It’s so good to see you,” Amanda says.

“You too,” you say, hugging the woman back. “How have you been?”

“Oh, you know me. Busy, busy, but I have no complaints. You?”

“Things are starting to look up.”

“That’s good,” Amanda says with a smile. “Come on, let’s head inside. Ange should be wrapping up her shoot in a few minutes.”

“Great!” you say.

You follow Amanda inside, letting your eyes wander as you pass through what seems to be the offices before heading into the common area. There are some crew members bustling around, bringing props from one set to another, and a couple of cast members that you recognize hanging out on some couches. Tommy and Shayne seem to be watching a video on one of their phones together, while Courtney and Arasha are going over the rules of some board game.

Amanda leads you over to the free couch in the cluster, and you sit down, sinking into the comfortable cushions. You let out a sigh of contentment, deciding that you’d be happy to close your eyes for a couple of minutes before Angela is done filming, but before you can, a squeal of excitement comes from the couch across from you.

“Y/N!” Courtney says excitedly. “You’re here!”

“I am,” you say with a smile.

“I can’t believe Angela didn’t tell us you were coming,” Shayne says.

“Yeah, about that…she kind of doesn’t know.”

“Oooh, a surprise?!” Courtney says. “I love it.”

“I just hope she does too,” you say, almost under your breath.

“She will,” Shayne assures you. “She’s missed you. Like, a lot.”

“I’ve missed her too.”

“Well not for much longer!” Amanda says with excitement. “Chanse just texted me that they just finished their shoot and are heading over here now.”

As soon as Amanda finishes, you hear a pair of voices start echoing from behind one of the stage doors. You can already tell just by the pitch that one of them is Angela, and by extension you can guess that the other one is Chanse. Judging by the tone, they’re arguing about something, but it seems more like a playful disagreement than anything. As the door opens and they both step out, you are able to pick up their conversation.

“...just saying that there is no reason you can’t come out with us tonight,” Chanse says.

“Yes, there is,” Angela says. “I don’t want to. All I wanna do is go home, climb into my bed, and facetime my girlfriend.”

“I think I’ve got something a little better than facetime,” Amanda says, smirking.

“Wha-” Angela cuts herself off as she looks up and your eyes lock. “Y/N?”

“Hey, baby,” you say.

Before you can even react, your girlfriend is throwing herself into your arms, and you find yourself spinning with her momentum so she doesn’t send you both toppling over. You laugh as you wrap your arms around her, burying your face in the crook of her neck and drinking in the sweet scent of home that you haven’t smelled in almost three months.

“You’re here,” Angela breathes into your shoulder.

“I am,” you reply softly.

“Fuck, this is amazing. I missed you so much.”

“I missed you, too.”

“How long are you here for?” Angela asks, pulling away from the hug.

“I’m not sure yet,” you say, trying not to cringe at your lie as you take a step back. “I at least have through Christmas, though.”

“So we can have our first Christmas together?”

“If you’ll have me.”

“How is that even a question?” Angela says, a huge smile on her face. “If you think you aren’t staying with me while you’re here, you’re insane.”

“You want me to stay with you?”

“Absolutely. I don’t want to spend a second away from you while I have you here.”

“Then you don’t have to,” you say softly.

“Good. Now, before we head out, do you want a tour?”

“Yes, please!”

“Cool,” Angela says happily, before turning to her castmates. “See you guys later?”

“Yeah, see ya,” Shayne acknowledges.

“Bye,” Courtney says cheerfully. “It was good to see you, Y/N.”

“Bye, guys!” Amanda adds.

“See you tomorrow,” Arasha says.

Angela and Chanse say goodbye with a complex handshake, and he gives you a nod before your girlfriend grabs your hand and pulls you off in the direction of the sets. She brings you through each of them slowly, taking the time to tell you funny stories from behind the scenes. There’s the TNTL bit about the election that got cut, and the time she got so excited about an update on Reddit stories that she almost tipped over the couch.

As you walk through the Culinary Crimes set, Angela tells you about the Thanksgiving episode that they did this year, where not one of the dishes was bad. You end up stopping for a minute on the Games set, where she shows you all of the video games that she’s been forced to play over the past two years.

The last set Angela brings you through is the podcast set, which is all prepped and ready for filming. She ends up telling you about her “Ham Cake” sketch and the many live streams that they’ve done in here, as well as showing you all of the holes in the back wall from the various darts videos that they’ve made.

After she finishes showing you all of the sets, Angela brings you out into the prop area for a brief look around, and then heads through the kitchen and lunch area. This brings you back to the offices, where she shows you her desk. You think that the tour is going to end there, but soon she grabs your hand again and starts leading you farther down the hall. She ends up stopping in front of a door, pushing it open for you to see inside.

“And this is the Crying Bathroom,” Angela says. “It’s the only place where anyone can get any privacy around here.”

“So this is where Tommy spends ninety percent of his time,” you joke, stepping into the bathroom.

“It is.” You hear the door shut behind you, and you turn to see your girlfriend locking it with a devilish smirk on her face. “It’s also where I’m going to fuck you for the first time in three months. Is that okay?”

“Fuck yes.”

Not wanting to give yourself time to change your mind, because this is your girlfriend’s place of work and is probably not the most sanitary place to have sex, you push Angela back into the door and connect your lips in a bruising kiss. She lets you set the pace for a minute, but she soon loses patience and you find yourself being spun around and pinned in place, your back hitting the oak with a thud.

You moan at the show of dominance, but the sound is swallowed by Angela’s mouth as she pushes her body against yours for full contact. As you kiss, you feel her start to trace her hands up and down your sides, letting her fingers brush up against the sliver of skin that’s peeking out between your jeans and your t-shirt. After a minute of torturous contact, you pull back with the little room that you have and pull your shirt off and toss it to the side.

Angela doesn’t waste a second in moving her lips down to your neck, then your collarbone, and then to the center of your chest. She teasingly brushes them along your naval, and you find yourself tangling your fingers in her hair to try and get her to speed up. It works, because the next thing you know, your bra is on the floor and your girlfriend has her lips wrapped around a nipple.

“Oh, fuck,” you moan. “God, yes!”

As Angela lavishes your chest, you find yourself grinding down on the thigh that she has strategically wedged between your legs. The pleasure is welling up fast, coming in tiny bursts that feel like mini supernovas bursting in your stomach. Just as you start to feel the dizzying edge approach, your girlfriend pulls back from your nipple, releasing it with a tug, and slowly gets down on her knees.

“Can I?” Angela asks, her voice on the edge of begging.

“Please,” you say, nodding rapidly.

Taking the given consent eagerly, Angela undoes the button of your jeans and slides down the zipper before pulling them down to your ankles with your underwear. She can’t get them past your shoes, so you carefully kick those off before she pulls your pants the rest of the way off and tosses them to the side with your other clothes. It’s then that you realize that she’s still fully dressed, but before you have time to process that, you end up getting distracted by her throwing your left leg over her shoulder.

Angela drags her tongue up from your entrance to your clit, circling around it skillfully before moving back down and dipping it inside of you. A loud moan escapes your lips, and you quickly bring one hand up to muffle yourself while the other one goes down to tangle in your girlfriend’s hair again. When she moves back up and sucks on your clit, you bite down hard as you try to fight the waves of pleasure already threatening to consume you.

Despite your best efforts, it only takes a few more flicks and another hard suck to have you tumbling over the edge. Angela holds you steady as your muscles tense and your legs shake, her tongue never stopping until she feels you start to relax. Once she’s sure your legs will hold you again, she puts your left one back on the floor and stands up. You don’t hesitate to pull her into a kiss, moaning as you taste yourself on her lips.

“My turn,” you say.

Using all of the strength you have left, you switch your positions and push Angela up against the bathroom door. She gasps in surprise, leaving an opening for you to dip your tongue into her mouth as you undo the button on her jeans and pull the zipper down. You don’t hesitate to slip your hand into her panties once you have enough room, and you immediately find her clit and start rubbing circles around it.

“Fuck,” Angela says, her head falling back against the bathroom door. “I’ve missed this. Missed the way you taste, missed the way your fingers feel inside of me.”

“I’ve missed you, too,” you reply, moving your lips down to her neck.

“God, baby. Inside, please. I need you.”

Never one to deny Angela anything, you slip your hand farther into her panties and dip two fingers inside of her. The gasp she lets out is downright filthy, but it’s nothing in comparison to the swearing and moaning that begins the minute you start moving. As you thrust, you crook your fingers up, smirking as you find the spot that always drives her wild and start to attack it.

“Fuck, baby, I’m gonna-”

Before she can even get the sentence fully out, Angela clenches hard around your fingers and shudders her way through an intense orgasm. You slow your fingers gradually, not wanting to overstimulate her, and lean in to press a gentle kiss to her lips. It takes her a minute to fully come down, but when she does, she kisses you back.

“Mmmm,” Angela hums, smiling against your lips. “Fuck, I always forget how good you are at that.”

“You’re one to talk,” you say, still catching your breath a little. “I’m pretty sure I saw God.”

“Nah, that was just me.”

You both break out into a fit of laughter at the joke, your foreheads pressing together as your chests fill to bursting with love and happiness. When you finally regain your composure after a couple of minutes, you sigh and then lean in to place one last soft kiss against your girlfriend’s lips.

“I love you,” you breathe out.

“I love you, too,” Angela says softly. “Now, let’s go home so we can continue this in an actual bed.”

“Yes, please.”

—

The two weeks leading up to Christmas are absolute bliss. You and Angela spend every free moment that you have together, just enjoying being in each other’s company again. On the days that she is home, you decorate her apartment while drinking hot cocoa together. When she has to work, you spend all of your time trolling the downtown LA area, looking for the perfect present.

A few days before Christmas, you end up passing a Tiffany’s, and suddenly, it just hits you. Before you know it, you’re writing out a check and handing it over to the attendant in exchange for a beautiful emerald cut diamond ring and a matching set of earrings. You almost add on a necklace, but decide to hold off, thinking that might be a bit too much. Instead, you find a La Perla and get Angela a beautiful set of lacy lingerie that you know you’ll both enjoy.

After getting your presents all figured out, you start planning the proposal. Figuring out what you’re going to say is harder than you expected, as nothing seems to do how you feel about Angela justice. It takes a long talk with Amanda at the Smosh Christmas party for you to finally realize that your speech doesn’t need to be perfect, it just needs to be you. It’s then that you decide to stop planning, knowing that you express yourself better in the moment anyways.

When Christmas day finally comes, you’re more excited than you’ve ever been. You find yourself awake at 8:00 almost on the dot with the complete inability to fall back to sleep. Instead of waking Angela up, you roll over in her arms and bury your face in her chest, breathing in her soothing scent. You stay like that for what feels like forever, just basking in your girlfriend’s warmth, before she finally opens her eyes.

“Good morning,” you say softly.

“Mmm, morning,” Angela replies huskily. “Merry Christmas, baby.”

“Merry Christmas, love. Do you want to stay in bed for a little while longer, or do you want to get up and open your presents?”

“Up. Definitely up.”

So you both get out of bed, heading into the bathroom to freshen up quickly before going out into the living room. Angela takes a seat in front of the tree, and you sit down across from her, both grabbing your presents for each other so that you can exchange them. You smile to yourself, sneaking a quick peek at where you had hidden the ring in the tree, before turning your attention to your girlfriend.

“Okay, so my gifts kind of have two different vibes,” Angela says, pulling at the collar of her shirt nervously. “I got a serious present, and a sexy present.”

“So did I,” you say reassuringly. “Which one do you want to open first?”

“Sexy.”

“Okay.”

You grab the wrapped box of lingerie and hand it to Angela, taking the bag that she gives you in exchange. She nods at you to go first, so you take out the tissue paper to reveal two boxes, one smaller and one larger. You pull them both out of your bag to get a better look at them, gulping when you realize what they are. A bolt of arousal shoots through you, and you have to remind yourself that you have a plan for today.

“A strap on?” you say, your voice unsteady.

“Yeah,” Angela replies nervously. “What do you think?”

“That maybe we should have exchanged serious presents first. Fuck, this makes me want to spend the rest of the day in bed.”

“Really?”

“Fuck yes. But I do need to raincheck the day in bed for like, another hour. Just enough time for us to finish opening our presents and then have some breakfast.”

“Deal. Do you want me to open mine now?”

“Please.”

Angela smiles at you and then turns her attention to the present sitting in front of her. She unwraps it carefully, tossing the wrapping paper to the side and sliding off the top of the box as you watch her intently. You can see the moment when she recognizes what it is, because her fingers flex on the sides of the box and her eyes get two shades darker.

“Do you like it?” you ask hesitantly.

“Like it?” Angela replies breathlessly. “I fucking love it. Thank you.”

“Of course, baby. Next present?”

After handing Angela the smaller box that holds the earring you’d gotten her, you take the present that she offers in return and place it in front of you. She tries to get you to go first again, but you resist, only giving in when she leans over to give you a persuasive kiss. As she pulls away, you unwrap her gift and open the box, revealing a beautiful white gold necklace with a ‘A’ charm on it.

“Will you put it on?” you ask, turning around.

“Of course,” Angela replies, taking the jewelry and clasping it around your neck. “Does it fit okay?”

“It’s perfect. I love it.”

“I’m glad. My turn?”

“Absolutely.”

You watch as Angela carefully unwraps the box in front of her, taking great care like she did with the first one. When she sees that the box has the Tiffany’s logo on it, her eyes widen in a little bit of panic. For a minute you worry that she’s nervous about you proposing, but she immediately puts that thought to bed.

“Baby, I thought we agreed on a spending limit?” Angela says, looking up at you.

“I didn’t go over it,” you say, breathing out a small sigh of relief. “I got a really good deal, I promise.”

It’s true, you did get a good deal, but it has a lot more to do with the fact that you bought an engagement ring at the same time than it does with the holiday deals. Angela looks at you skeptically for a minute, but she seems to accept your explanation because she reaches down and pops the box open.

“Oh my God. These are beautiful.”

“Yeah?” you say, smiling.

“Of course,” Angela replies. “I love them.”

“Good, because I have one last present, and it kind of goes with those.”

Taking a deep breath, you rise to your feet and walk over to the Christmas tree. Your thoughts are racing, running through all of the things that you want to express but haven’t ever found the words to say. Shaking your head to clear it, you reach into the tree and pull out the ring box before turning back to your girlfriend.

“These past two years with you have been the best in my life,” you start, finding your footing. “Even though we’ve only been able to spend a few months at a time together, you make me feel more loved and more seen than anyone I’ve ever known. I love you more than all of the stars in the sky, deeper than all of the oceans. Which is why, last August, I made a decision. I’m taking a break from acting.”

“Y/N-” Angela says, but you cut her off.

“Here is where I want to be. With you. So I’m leaving SVU. Left, actually. My last day of filming was the 10th.”

“Let’s move in together.”

“I’m way ahead of you. I already bought an apartment downtown. It’s twenty minutes from your studio.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes, baby. So fucking serious. Almost as serious as I am about this.” You take one last deep breath and get down on one knee, showing her the box. “When I was little, all I dreamed about was being an actor. Since I’ve met you, that’s started to change. Now the only thing I dream about is waking up next to you every morning and falling asleep in your arms every night. Well, that and being your wife. So what do you say? Will you marry me?”

“Yes,” Angela chokes out as tears stream down her face. “Yes!”

A wide smile breaks across your lips, and you open the box to take the ring out. You hear a small gasp escape Angela’s lips as she catches sight of it, but you just carry on with what you’re doing. As you take her hand and slip the ring on, you look up, locking eyes with the love of your life. She looks down briefly and then back up, before leaning in and pulling you into a passionate kiss.

“I love you,” Angela murmurs.

“I love you, too,” you say. “I can’t wait for you to be my wife.”

[gars-weaponeer]

Today in: Clones that deserved better!

Issue #1

-SCORCH-

Scorch belonged to the clone commando Delta Squad from the beloved videogame "Republic Commando", which came before the Clone wars series aired.

Along with his companions: Sev, Fixer and Boss. Scorch was the demolition expert of the Squad and the one with the most heart and sense of humor, arguably the one with the most personality. You could easily compare him to Hardcase or Wrecker, having a similar archetype. He, along with Sev, became a fan favorite thanks to his charismatic writing.

If you have NOT played Republic commando, I totally recommend it. You can currently find it on steam or switch and it's a very fun game to play if you are a Clone wars fan.

Delta squad appears in the Clone wars series only for a short cameo and only Boss got a short speaking line. So it was more than obvious that RC fans would want to see more representation of the beloved characters.

Then we got the Bad Batch...

I don't know who this guy is... but this is not Scorch.

I do understand they needed a face for the commando leader of Tantiss and they did not want to miss the opportunity to gain some nostalgia points with a beloved Republic Commando character. (I could rant hours about how The Bad Batch did all commando clones dirty by reducing them to novelty storm troopers, but that's a rant for another day.) But did it HAVE to be Scorch? Considering the "personality" this TBB-Scorch has, I think Fixer or even Boss could have been an arguably better pick. But since Scorch was a fan favorite he was the one chosen, and he was also the one BUTCHERED for it.

TBB-Scorch has little to no personality and what little we manage to see it drastically different from the Scorch in the video game and that's very disheartening to see for a fan of the character.

Having a model with the painted armor is not enough to give fans the representation they deserve. Specially when it comes to a character with a recognizable personality.

It would be like having Fives suddenly be a cold and loyal trooper that will do anything Pon Krell did without questioning. Or have Wrecker suddenly be the background character that had no speaking lines and was only there to guard the door.

Or have Echo disappear for an amount of episodes when he could-- oh wait....

This "character" could easily be replaced by any other commando with a cool looking armor and it wouldn't change a thing other that fans pointing and saying "OMG I KNOW THAT GUY!"

(I'm not even sure his name is even mentioned... but take that with a grain of salt, I might be wrong. I need to re-watch the third season of The Bad Batch for the third time. )

Sure, we could argue that there is a reason to why Scorch is the way he is in TBB. Maybe he was brainwashed like the CX Clones or Maybe the trauma of loosing his companions, his brothers he was born and raised with since a pod and with whom he experienced a lot of things together, made him a cold, empty husk... but if that was the case, SHOW US THAT!

Scorch could have easily been a good counterpart to Crosshair. They are both Commandos (in a sense) and they both lost their brothers in traumatic ways (allegedly). But while Scorch gave up and became a mindless follower of the Empire, Cross woke up and refused to be brainwashed like the rest.

I know I'm being too harsh.

After all, it's somehow noticiable that TBB was left unfinished. My theory is that Disney decided to pull the plug and was "nice" enough to give the project one last season. But all the ideas and all the stories they clearly wanted to tell were not going to fit on one last season, so a lot of it was cut and rushed.

It is sad, and I would have loved to see what plans they originally had. Maybe they had more plans for the commandos, maybe Scorch had a bigger role or an explanation to his loyalty towards Hemlock and the empire.

Or Maybe he was just painted in to get Republic commando fans to watch The Bad Batch.

We might never know...

Overall...

It's kind of sad that was all the representation we got of these beloved characters.

I know their stories are in "Legends" and many Legends characters have been changed for the sake of canon.

But there is Changing, and then there is Butchering.

And I think Scorch, and the Delta Squad, deserved way better.

[skyeet-the-writer]

The One With the Bagel

uhhh this is super overdue but here it is for the new year!! i hope you guys like it!! also hope you guys have had a happy and safe holiday season! x. chandler bing x female!reader summary: after making plans, chandler bing shows the cool, alternative girl from canada around the city word count: ~2.9k warnings: none <previous next>

Chandler made good on his promise to show you around. Of course he did, how could he not? You gave him your number. Chandler may be stupid, but if he turned down the opportunity to hang out with you, he’d have Joey check him into a mental institution.

He didn’t call you right away, he figured it would be best to wait a few days. He wanted to wait at least three days, but he caved at two and a half and left you a voicemail on his lunch break.

He had rehearsed it many times and written it down several times. He wanted to get the words just right.

“Hey, y/n. Sorry to bother you, but if you still want to, I’m still open to showing you around the city. Or, well, parts. Um, yeah. I’m free this weekend, we can get coffee too or something if you want. But just let me know. Bye.”

When he hung up, he felt like the air had been pulled directly from his lungs and he immediately wanted to shoot himself. Why did he stutter so much? He knew why, but why? Why did he say ‘but’ so many times?

He did his best not to think about it for the rest of the day.

When he got home from work, exhausted as all hell, he had managed to forget about the whole phone call for at least an hour. But the moment he walked through the door, Joey called his name with a smirk and a strange look in his eyes.

“What’s with you?” Chandler asked, loosening his tie and finally being able to breathe again.

Instead of answering right away, his friend pointed to the phone and said, “She left you a message, man!”

His stomach dropped to his toes and he felt dread creep up his fingertips. Oh, God, what if you didn’t want him to show you around anymore? What if his quick reply freaked you out? God, if you never wanted to see him ever again Chandler couldn’t live with himself.

But still, he made himself walk towards the answering machine. It was blinking, so it was clear Joey hadn’t read it, but Chandler wasn’t sure if that made him feel better or worse.

He looked up at his friend, who seemed excited, the opposite of how he felt.

Swallowing, he pressed play and your perfect voice sounded through the apartment.

“Hey, Chandler! Great to hear from you, I was wondering if you’d call.”

He blinked at the phone. Were you waiting for him to call?

“Sorry about not answering, I was at work and then the bartender was sick and I had to do it. Real cool to make the new girl bartend by herself after she finished her training.” You laugh and Chandler feels the corners of his lips quirk up. “Sorry, I’m rambling. But, uh, yeah, I’d totally be down for Sunday. And coffee sounds great. Just call me back when you can and we can figure out the details or whatever. Bye, Chan.”

The machine clicked, signaling you had hung up, and Chandler stared at the white box with a smile on his face and a warm, somewhat foreign feeling in his heart.

Joey shook his shoulders, a grin plastered across his cheeks. "You got it, man, you're in!"

"Yeah, yeah, okay," he said, shrugging Joey off of him. "So, like, should I call her back now or wait?"

Glancing at the time the message from you was received, Joey answered, "I mean, she called a couple of hours ago. Do it now, man, she's probably off of work."

He nodded, feeling his heart rate pick up again. "Yeah. Yeah, okay."

But instead of grabbing the phone, he just stared at it. He stared at it for so long that Joey had to touch his arm to get him to look at him.

"You want to order a pizza first?"

Chandler nodded. "Yeah, that's probably a good idea."

And so, forty-five minutes and two-thirds of a pizza later, Chandler mustered up the courage to call you.

It only takes two rings for you to pick up.

"Hello?" Chandler has been waiting to hear your voice again for days and nothing can describe the pure amount of euphoria that rushes through his veins at your tone.

He keeps calm, however, and says, "Hey, y/n, it's Chandler."

Your tone lightens and he can practically hear the smile in your voice. "Oh, hey, Chan!"

A smile paints itself across his cheeks and heat rises up his neck and he tries to ignore Joey's excited looks. "Hey."

"You got my message, right?" For a moment, he hears some noises from your side of the call, almost like you're closing a plastic container, and he hopes he didn't catch you in the middle of eating. "I'm free on Sunday, is that cool?"

"Yeah, that works." He suggests meeting up at nine and when you laugh a little, his grin widens at your nervousness. "What is it?"

You laugh again and elaborate. "Okay, so, actually, I work the night before and we don't close until, like, one. So maybe ten? Instead?"

Chandler would hang out with you at three in the morning if you asked him to. "Yeah, that's fine."

"Awesome. So, around ten at Central Perk? Since it's really the only place I know in the city?"

A teasing smile pulls at his lips as he waves his roommate away before he embarrasses himself. "For now."

"For now?"

"Yeah. I'll show you around to all the good places."

"Even the Empire State Building?" Your voice is teasing and it makes his organs do gymnastics.

He chuckles and nods even if you can't see it. "Even the Empire State Building."

"Sick! See you then, Chan."

"See you then, y/n." He needs to come up with a nickname for you.

"Bye."

"Bye."

And then you hang up and Chandler places the phone back down. There's a beat where he makes eye contact with Joey before they both erupt into celebratory cheers and jump up and down together like they always do.

"Go Chandler!"

"Go me!"

~*~

Sunday comes both sooner and later than you expected. It's sooner because you worked a double the day before but it's also later because you've been looking forward to it ever since the two of you scheduled it.

But, eventually, ten o'clock rolls around and you're sitting at a table in Central Perk patiently waiting. You haven't been here for long, but since you always get nervous meeting up with new people, you grabbed a newspaper and started to do the crossword to calm your nerves.

You like Chandler, a lot. He's very sweet, funny, and he's pretty cute, too. You share a lot of similar interests, but since you've only had one encounter and a couple of phone calls, you still get anxious.

You're sure it will go away when you both make conversation.

Chewing on the end of the pencil, you rack your mind for the solution to this one question, but you can't quite remember the name, though it's on the tip of your tongue.

The bell above the door rings and you look up, smiling when you see Chandler. You wave him over and he quickly spots you, casually walking over.

"You do the crossword, too?" he asks with a small smile.

You nod. "Sometimes, yeah. Hey, I need your help with one. What's a prehistoric beast with a large bony frill?"

He tilts his head and asks, "How many letters is it?"

Glancing down at the paper, you count the little squares and answer, "Eleven."

He mouths some letters, and counts with his fingers, before saying, "Triceratops."

"That's what it is!" You quickly scribble it down in messy handwriting. "I knew that, I just forgot the word for it."

"Yeah, sure." He gives you a teasing smirk as you stand up, stashing the newspaper into your bag.

You raise a brow at him. "Wow, rude, Chan."

"I'm messing."

"I know." You smile at him. "So. You promised to show me where the good coffee is?"

He nods and moves towards the door, holding it open for you to go out of. "I did. You like bagels?"

"Of course I do, I'm not a monster."

Your humor always gets to him and he jerks his head down the street. "Come on. I'll show you a great place."

"Lead the way."

~*~

An hour later, you stand beside Chandler with a bagel in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other.

“Okay,” you say, walking past a couple holding hands. “It might have been a long wait, but you say it’s worth it?”

Chandler nods and smiles. “I promise you, it is.”

He leads you to a little bench by a flower shop and you take a seat laying the bagel across your lap.

“Coffee first,” he says to you.

“But you said the bagel is the best part.”

“Best for last?”

“I always do best for first.”

“Okay, well, drawing out the tension makes things better.”

You roll your eyes and hold out your coffee cup. “Clink me, Bing.”

A smile creeps onto his face and he can't help but say, "Is that a euphemism?"

Mirroring his teasing smile, you reply, "You wish."

He does.

But he doesn't say that and instead taps his disposable coffee cup against yours and takes a sip at the same time as you do.

Taking a sip, you immediately flinch back at the searing burning sensation on your tongue. Chandler does the same thing and you both laugh.

"He did warn it was hot," you mutter, referencing the kind older man who cashed you out while you run your front teeth over your tongue.

Chandler smiles. "Yeah, he did."

After blowing on the liquid for another moment, you both clink your cups again and you take a sip. Chandler recommended the latte and you trusted his opinion. Sure enough, as soon as the slightly-cooled down liquid touches your tongue, you're glad you trusted him.

"Woah," you say, looking at Chandler.

He's smiling. "Right?"

You smile back, taking another sip of the delicious beverage. "This is so good."

"I told you it would be good."

"It's not just good, it's great."

"Exactly. None of my other friends think it's very good."

You frown just a little. "Really? I mean, Central Perk is good and all, but this is amazing."

He just shrugs. "It's okay. I have you to go with me now."

You smile at him and a strange and warm feeling flutters in your chest.

But before you can even think about it, Chandler is putting the coffee down beside him on the bench and picking up his bagel. "Okay. Try the bagel now."

Nodding, you place the coffee down and carefully unwrap a small section of the bagel that you can eat. You had gotten a bagel called an 'All-Nighter', which had two eggs, bacon, cheese, and some kind of chipotle aioli on a cheesy bagel. It sounded like actual heaven considering you hadn't eaten all day and your mouth waters as the delectable scent wafts up to your nose.

Once again, you and Chandler clink your own bagels--he got one called the 'Santa Fe' with egg whites, sausage, and salsa on a plain bagel--and take a bite at the same time.

You're not one to groan at food, but this sandwich is so good you almost do. It's messy and you're glad for the double layer of paper around it. It's cheesy, it's warm, and it's a little spicy. It's everything you've been craving.

"Holy shit," you say, mouth still a little full. "This is so good, Chandler."

He just nods, already taking another bite.

Licking a stray piece of sauce from your lips, you hardly swallow before you go in for another bite. Together, you and Chandler eat in silence, too busy consuming your own individual meals like it's the last meal. Honestly, you would want this bagel to be your last meal.

You finish first, licking your greasy fingers before using a napkin to wipe them. Carefully, you shove all your trash into the bag and take a couple more sips of your latte before it gets cold.

Chandler is soon finished and while he's wiping his hands, you say, "That was the best sandwich I've ever had in my life, Chan."

"I told you it would be life-changing."

"I'm so sorry for doubting you," you tease, smiling and stretching your legs out in front of you and taking in the scene. It's almost noon on a Sunday in Manhattan and the streets are, unsurprisingly, crawling with people, but everyone seems a lot more relaxed and chill on Sunday rather than a busy Friday morning when you're running late for work.

You and Chandler lapse into a pleasant silence where you both just people-watch for a few minutes while your meals digest. You watch the people go by and wonder what they're doing today and what plans they have. You wonder if they've ever had a life-changing bagel as well, you wonder how many of them are new to the city like you and how many know it well like Chandler.

He speaks up. “What do you want to go see first?”

Looking at him, you know the first thing you want to do. “Empire State Building.”

He smiles and stands, offering you a hand. “Come on, then.”

Taking it, you let him haul you up before dropping his hand almost immediately. For a second, disappointment fills his chest before he pushes it away. Together, he leads you to the Empire State Building, talking about everything and nothing all at once.

~*~

By the time it was getting dark, you had both wandered halfway around Manhatten. You had seen the Empire State Building, walked by the National Museum—where his friend Ross worked, which you thought was interesting—you had walked around Times Square, and by the Rockefeller Center.

“Is it true that at Christmas they have a huge tree?” you ask as Chandler walks beside you.

He nods, smiling. “It is. And they have an ice rink.”

This makes you stop in your tracks and you turn to him. He blinks and stands next to you, completely aware that there’s a giant smile on your face.

“Are you serious?” you ask.

Chandler nods slowly. “Yeah, I’m serious. What, do you like skating?”

“Uh, yeah.” You laugh and roll your eyes. “Chandler, I love skating. You know I did hockey for, like, years right?”

“No, I didn’t.”

You widen your eyes at him. “Oh. Well, I did.”

“I didn’t know you liked hockey.”

“I’m from Canada,” you say, starting to walk once more. “It’s a requirement. I got my first stick on my fifth birthday.”

“That’s so cool,” your friend says. “I love hockey.”

“What’re the teams in the city? I know there’s the Rangers, I just can’t remember the other one.”

“The Islanders,” he tells you. “But the Rangers are better. Joey and I go to the games a lot, but if I have an extra ticket, you can come too.”

“Thanks.” You smile at him, this cute little half-smile that makes his chest squeeze.

But he doesn’t think about it and smiles back, nods, and listens as you explain how you were the best defender on your team in primary school.

Eventually, you make it back to your apartment. Hell’s Kitchen isn’t as sketchy as it used to be and Chandler walks you up to your apartment building. It’s well past sunset, but the streetlights are bright enough.

“This is me,” you say, gesturing behind you to the building. “Thanks for walking me back.”

“It was no problem,” Chandler says, completely aware that you both walked right past his own apartment building twenty minutes ago. “I’m not far from here. Besides, I wanted to make sure you wouldn’t get mugged.”

“Considering I have three dollars in my wallet, I don’t think that’s a problem.”

Chandler laughs and you laugh too and you realize how much you love his company. He’s funny and he gets you. He’s fun to be around and he’s nice, something a little uncommon here in the city.

“We should do this again,” you hear yourself say. “I had a lot of fun.”

“Me too,” he replies. “Call me?”

He doesn’t mean to say it. It slips out and his eyes widen the words leave his lips but you just laugh gently and nod.

“I will.” Taking his hand, you shake it twice. Your rings are cold against his hand but he’s quickly distracted away from that when you lean in and press a quick kiss to his cheek. You have to lean on your tiptoes to do it and you’re already pulled away when he realizes what you’ve done.

Releasing his hand, you watch his neck heat up and panic rises up in you for fear you’ve gone too far. But then a small smile crosses his face and the knot in your stomach loosens.

Before the silence becomes awkward, you say, “Goodnight, Chandler. Get home safe.”

“You too,” he blurts out before cursing. But you just laugh that sweet laugh of yours and buzz yourself in, propping the door with your foot.

“Don’t get mugged on the way home, Chan.” And with another wave, you walk inside and let the door close behind you.

And Chandler is left standing alone in the streets of New York with a cheesy smile on his face. He scratches his chin but the grin doesn’t leave his face the entire time he meanders his way back to his apartment.

And his smile only grows wider when Joey mentions the lipstick stain on his cheek.

[cheynovak]

Sheriff's bargain - Part 3

Beau Arlen x Y/N female reader

Summary:  Y/N, a seasoned con artist, is arrested after returning to Montana, where her past comes back to haunt her in the form of Sheriff Beau Arlen—the man she abandoned five years ago. Facing charges linked to a drug lord, she’s offered a deal to work as an informant. Torn between her criminal life and lingering feelings for Beau, Y/N must decide whether to help him bring down the crime ring or continue running from her past.

Warnings: Little spice nothing explicit

English isn't my first language

Please do not copy my work. Like/Share/Comments are welcome

The next morning, I woke up in the guest room, the smell of bacon and coffee drifting in from the kitchen. I lay there for a moment, taking in the surreal situation. Here I was, staying in the house of the man I had once planned to rob—then started to like—only to run away when things got too real. And now, I was back. Working with him to get out of trouble, hiding under his roof from the people who were after me. Oh, and that’s right—I had tried to kiss him last night.

I groaned at the memory, the embarrassment settling in my chest like a weight.

Pushing it aside, I got dressed and headed to the kitchen, bracing myself for what was bound to be an awkward conversation. Beau was standing at the stove, looking casual in a pair of jeans and a worn flannel, his movements easy and unbothered, like last night hadn’t happened.

“Mornin’,” he said, his southern drawl soft and familiar.

My cheeks flushed instantly, and I couldn’t meet his eyes. “Beau, about last night…” I started, already feeling the heat creeping up my neck.

He didn’t even flinch. He just waved his hand dismissively, flipping a pancake onto a plate. “Don’t worry about it,” he said with a smirk. “It’s nothin’.”

“Not nothing,” I muttered, feeling like I had to at least address it. “I shouldn’t have—”

“Seriously, Y/N,” he interrupted, turning to face me, his expression calm. “I get it. You’ve been through a lot, and things are... complicated.”

I bit my lip, still feeling the sting of embarrassment. “You’re not mad?”

He chuckled, setting the plate of pancakes on the counter. “Mad? Nah. Just think it’s a bad idea for us to get mixed up in more than we already are.”

He was right, of course. And the last thing I needed was to complicate things further. Still, I couldn’t help but feel a flicker of something when I looked at him—something I couldn’t quite shake, even now.

“Breakfast?” he offered, holding out a plate, his usual charm back in full force.

I took the plate, managing a small smile. “Thanks.”

As I sat down at the table, I couldn’t help but steal a glance at him. Casual, calm, like he always seemed to be, but there was something in his eyes that made me wonder if he was as unaffected as he pretended to be. Something unspoken, lingering in the air between us.

But for now, we both let it go. There were bigger things to worry about.

As we ate breakfast, Beau leaned back in his chair, the easygoing air from earlier shifting into something more serious. “So, we’ve been working on finding a safe house for you,” he started, his tone more professional now. “But it’s proving a little harder than expected. We’re short on places that aren’t already under surveillance. Looks like you’ll need to stay here a few more nights.”

I nodded, my fork pausing mid-air as I processed what he was saying. I didn’t mind staying a bit longer, though it felt strange—being here with him after everything that had happened. Still, this was better than being out there, a target for whoever was after me. But then Beau added something that made me pause.

“At least until Emily comes home.”

His words hung in the air for a moment, and I could sense a shift. “Emily?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

“My daughter,” he clarified, running a hand through his hair. “She’s been staying with her mom for a while, but she’s due back in a few days. I don’t want her involved in... our job."

His words caught me off guard. Our job. Like I was his colleague now, part of the team. Not the woman he had once been ready to arrest or the person he used to date under false pretenses. Something about the way he said it made me feel more grounded, more like I belonged here—at least for now.

I raised an eyebrow. “You say that like I’m part of the department now.”

Beau smirked, though his eyes remained serious. “Well, for the time being, you kind of are. Like it or not, we’re in this together. I don’t want you caught in the crossfire any more than I want my daughter anywhere near this.”

I set my fork down, understanding the weight of what he was saying. Emily—his daughter—was his world, and the last thing I wanted was to cause her any trouble. I didn’t need to be told twice. “I get it. I’ll be out before she gets back,” I assured him, though something inside me tightened at the thought of leaving.

He nodded, seeming satisfied with my answer. “Good.”

There was a silence, both of us retreating into our thoughts. For a moment, I wondered what it must be like for him—balancing fatherhood with the job, and now having to babysit a former con artist who had complicated his life in more ways than one.

I glanced at him again, the rugged sheriff who had somehow let me back into his life, despite everything. Maybe he saw me differently now, or maybe this was just a job to him. Either way, it didn’t change the fact that staying here—especially with Emily returning—was temporary.

“I’ll make myself scarce,” I said, trying to keep the mood light, though the thought of leaving had me feeling more unsettled than I cared to admit. “Just tell me where the coffee is, and I’ll stay out of your hair.”

Beau laughed softly, shaking his head. “It’s gonna be hard to keep you out of trouble, isn’t it?”

“Probably,” I admitted with a smirk, but there was a part of me that hoped he wouldn’t try too hard.

--

Days blurred into one another, and the more time I spent inside, the more restless I became. I found myself cooking and cleaning just to pass the hours, keeping my mind off the looming danger that seemed to be waiting for me outside. Beau would come home after his shifts, and we’d have dinner, talking like two people who hadn’t been on opposite sides not too long ago.

That night, after another long day, he walked into the kitchen and sat at the table, glancing around at the spotless house and the smell of something baking still lingering in the air. He leaned back in his chair, a playful smirk spreading across his face. “If you keep up the good work, I might just have to marry you,” he said, his southern drawl teasing.

I froze, the plates in my hands slipping and clattering onto the floor with a loud crash. My heart skipped a beat, completely caught off guard by his joke. I stood there for a moment, staring down at the broken plates, feeling heat creep up my neck. Embarrassed and flustered, I knelt to pick up the pieces, but Beau was already beside me, helping me clean up the mess.

“Sorry,” I mumbled, not sure if I was apologizing for dropping the plates or for the way my heart was racing from that one, offhanded joke.

“No need to be sorry,” Beau said softly, glancing over at me as he handed me a piece of broken ceramic. His voice had lost the teasing edge, replaced with something quieter, more serious. The moment hung between us, the space between our bodies feeling smaller than it should’ve.

As we cleaned up the last of the broken plates, I looked up and found him closer than I expected. Nose to nose, our faces barely inches apart. My breath hitched, and time seemed to stretch, every second feeling like minutes as we sat there on the floor, just looking at each other.

His eyes softened, and I could feel the pull between us, something unspoken but undeniable. I wondered if he was feeling it too, the weight of everything we’d been through and the confusing mess of emotions that had come with it. My heart thudded in my chest, and I knew this was a moment that could change things—again.

We both stood up, and before I could act on the heat pulsing between us, I turned away quickly, trying to gather myself. But Beau wasn’t letting me off the hook that easily. I could feel him following close behind, his presence like a shadow that I couldn’t shake.

“Why do you do all this, anyway?” he asked, his voice casual but probing. “The cleaning, cooking, all of it?”

I didn’t turn around, focusing on the sink as I answered. “To keep busy, to thank you.”

He chuckled lightly, but there was something in his tone that rubbed me the wrong way. “You sure you’re not just trying to dig up dirt on me while you’re at it? You’ve got a habit of digging into people’s lives, after all.”

His words hit a sore spot. I whipped around, anger rising in my chest. “No, I’m not doing that,” I snapped, glaring at him. But before I could say anything else, I realized how close he was—too close. "I thought you leaving me here alone was the start of trust."

Beau’s large frame towered over me, his body pressing me against the counter, leaving me nowhere to escape. The space between us vanished in an instant, and I was pinned between him and the hard surface of the kitchen counter. His eyes bore into mine, and the air between us grew heavy, thick with the tension that had been building for days, weeks... maybe even years.

I swallowed hard, trying to control my breath, but his closeness sent my pulse racing. He didn’t move, didn’t break eye contact. His face was inches from mine, and I could feel the heat of him, smell the faint scent of aftershave and leather. The hard lines of his jaw, the intensity in his eyes, it all made my head spin.

“You really think I’d be that low?” I asked, my voice quieter now, but laced with frustration and something else I couldn’t quite name.

“I don’t know,” he said softly, his eyes searching mine. “Would you?”

His question hung in the air, but it wasn’t about the past anymore. It was about now, this moment, the confusing web of emotions that had tangled us up in ways neither of us had planned for.

“I’m not that person anymore,” I whispered, my breath catching as he leaned just a little closer. My back pressed harder against the counter, and I couldn’t tell if I wanted to pull away or stay pinned there, trapped by the tension between us.

Beau’s eyes softened, and for a moment, I thought he might kiss me. My heart pounded in my chest, my thoughts spinning wildly. Then, with a low, almost reluctant sigh, he straightened, stepping back just enough to give me room to breathe.

“Good,” he said quietly, his voice rougher than before. “Because I don’t think I can take any more lies.”

"Ok, no more lies," I reached out instinctively, my hand grabbing his arm, holding him back before he could walk away. "I want you. I want to kiss you. I want to... I want..." I had no idea what came over me. "I want sex." He paused, looking down at my hand resting on his sleeve, and before I could say anything—before I could even think—his lips crashed onto mine.

The kiss was hard and fast, full of all the pent-up tension that had been simmering between us for weeks. My back hit the counter as he pressed into me, lifting me effortlessly onto the surface. I gripped his shirt, pulling him closer, wanting more, feeling more. For a moment, I let myself get lost in the heat of it, my hands tangling in the fabric of his shirt, but just as quickly as it started, he pulled back.

His breath was heavy, his eyes dark with something raw and intense. He stepped back just enough to break the contact, his hand still resting on my thigh, but there was a new hesitance in his voice.

“Before we do this,” he said, his voice low and rough, "Consensual, yes?" "Yes!" I said in a hurry. "And no strings attached...one night, right?"

My heart dropped at his words, the excitement and desire twisting into something hollow. I stared at him, trying to process what he’d just said, trying to ignore the way it stung. I had expected things to get complicated, but not like this. I thought we were moving past the walls, the distrust, but here he was—asking me to keep it simple. Detached.

I swallowed hard, forcing myself to nod. “Sure... yeah.” I whispered, even though it felt like a lie.

Beau searched my face for a second, like he was waiting for me to take it back, to change my mind. But I didn’t. I couldn’t. Instead, I leaned forward, pulling him back to me, sealing the unspoken deal with another kiss. This time slower, more deliberate, but still filled with that same electric intensity that had been there from the start.

And just like that, I agreed to something I wasn’t sure I could handle.

Our hands clung to each other as if letting go would break the fragile tension between us. Clothes fell in a messy trail on the floor as Beau guided me toward the bedroom. Every step forward made my pulse race faster. When my back hit the bed, I barely had time to breathe before he was hovering over me, his strong frame casting a shadow against the dim light. His eyes locked onto mine, full of intensity and a question—waiting for me to pull back, to stop this before it went too far.

But I didn’t.

I couldn’t. Every fiber of my being was drawn to him, needing him in a way that felt raw, desperate. I searched his face, silently telling him I wasn’t going anywhere, that I needed him just as much as he needed me. My hands found their way to his skin, fingers tracing the lines of his muscles, pulling him closer. The tension between us snapped, and the only thing that mattered was the heat of his body against mine, the way our breaths mingled in the quiet of the room.

Beau didn’t hesitate any longer. His lips crashed onto mine, rougher this time, more urgent. He kissed me like he couldn’t get enough, like all the restraint he had been holding onto was finally gone. My body arched beneath him, a surge of heat spreading through me as his hands roamed over my skin, claiming every inch.

The weight of him pressed me into the bed, and I let myself get lost in the moment, in him. All the tension, the unspoken emotions, the complicated mess of our lives—it all melted away, leaving only the raw, physical connection between us. For once, I didn’t think about what came next, or the consequences, or the strings we pretended weren’t there. Right now, it was just us.

And I needed him. Desperately.

--

We fell asleep tangled in the sheets, Beau's warmth pressing into me as the exhaustion from the night overtook us. When the morning sun filtered through the curtains, its golden light spilled across the bed, illuminating his skin. The soft glow accentuated every freckle on his chest and nose, each one a small mark of perfection I suddenly wanted to kiss, to memorize. But I couldn’t. No strings attached—his words from last night echoed in my mind, reminding me of the line I couldn’t cross.

Instead, I pressed a soft kiss to his chest, careful not to wake him, before slipping out of bed. I found his shirt draped over the chair and pulled it on, followed by my panties, trying to ignore the gnawing ache of what had just happened. I walked quietly into the kitchen, hoping to clear my head with some coffee.

I barely made it past the counter when I heard a voice, sharp and surprised. "Who are you?"

I spun around, my mouth falling open. Standing in the doorway was a teenage girl—around fifteen or sixteen, with Beau’s eyes and a mix of confusion and shock written all over her face. My heart skipped a beat as I realized who it was.

Before I could say a word, I heard Beau’s footsteps thundering down the stairs. “Emily! You're home earlier." he called, his voice strained as he entered the kitchen.

Emily looked between us, her gaze narrowing in confusion and something that looked dangerously like hurt. “What is going on?” she asked, her voice rising as she crossed her arms, staring straight at me like I was the intruder,

and maybe I was.

--

Taglist:

@kr804573 @nancymcl @suckitands33 @mostlymarvelgirl @globetrotter28 @jackles010378 @hobby27 @winchesterwild78 @deans-baby-momma @soab1967 @livingdeadblondequeen @ladysparkles78 @whimsyfinny @kamisobsessed @jensens-bonnie-on-the-side @ferrersbiggestfan @spxideyver @kamisobsessed @deans-queen @yvonneeeee

[jaidens]

Bradley thinking you were out of town but you surprise him to tap him out? Then they got out yo the hard deck and Bradley shows off his girl to everyone.

maybe some things last forever after all

pairing [s] : bradley bradshaw x reader

warning [s] : nothing! sweet ol’ fluff | some angst if you squint real hard

a/n [s] : requests r open! ty for the request 🫶

The class was ordered to stand in formation. The graduation had ended, and they were sent to stand until families had been released. The tapping out ceremony would start soon enough, and Bradley was undeniably worried. He's sure he's gonna have to ask Maverick to tap him out, or even Hangman's family.

You're the only family he has. You were his long-term girlfriend who had been studying at a local college near him. You had the key to his apartment, the right to go to Target and buy every seasonal decoration you could, and make his coffee in the morning before work. You told Bradley you had a last minute thing for your job and needed to go to Nevada.

And to his belief, you were there and he was hundreds of miles away in formation. His back is tight, ankles hurting, and tearing up at the sight of mothers reconnecting with children. He chews at the inside of his cheek, and then he feels it. The lightest hug he's ever felt in his life, but weirdly it wraps around him like a thin sheet.

He doesn't react and he assumes it's the phantom pressure of missing his girlfriend after months of being away from her. However, when you wrap around him and stare into his eyes he relaxes his shoulders and wraps you in the tightest hug he's ever given.

“I thought you were out of town! What are you doing here!?” Bradley shouts as he holds you in his arms. His eyes are dripping with tears at this point and you nod in his shoulder.

“I know. I came back yesterday. I wanted to surprise you!” You say back to him and he laughs gently.

“You definitely did it!” Bradley responds.

—

Later after the ceremony had been over, the pilots and family were invited to the Hard Deck and Bradley decided to take this time to introduce you to his flight friends. Bradley is still trying to calm down every time he sees you next to him, a small smile on your face. “I’m so happy you're here.” He said.

You turn your head to him and look at the way he can't keep his eyes on the road. “Hm? What did you say?” His hair is slicked with gel, and to be honest, you think he looks dumb. But the summer suit makes him look five hundred times more handsome than usual.

You stare at the passing palm trees and watch the ocean splash across the shore. “I said, I'm really happy you're here. And, you look so beautiful.” Bradley tells you and pats you on the thigh. The air that flows freely in the truck suddenly feels warm and you smile at him.

“I’m really happy to be here. Thank you Bradley. I've just been, waiting to surprise you. I got Mav behind this plan too.”

“Course you got, Mav.” Bradley chuckles.

—

The Hard Deck is lively and filled with celebration as he weaves through the hundreds of pilots to his friend where they sit at the back corner table. He gets slapped on the shoulder by Hangman, Bob waves and he returns their gestures. “Who’s this pretty lady?” Hangman chuckles as he shakes your hand.

“I’m Bradley’s girlfriend. Y/N. You're Hangman.” You wave your eyebrows at him and be back off of you. Bradley pinches your side softly and you laugh.

“Yeah. This is my girl.” Bradley shouts and you slap his shoulder. He kisses you softly and then hears Jake yelling at him to come play with him.

Bradley walks away to play pool with some of the guys, and you sit with Natasha and Bob and hold a conversation with them. The bar is playing loud music and you're handed a drink by Bradley.

He sits down next to you and you see him grumbling. “You lose the game?” You tease and he nods. The atmosphere wraps you around and Bradley kisses you once again. “I love you.” You say to him and lay your hand on his forearm.

“I know. I love you too. Now, can you please go beat Jake in pool please!?”

[mystwrites]

Ask 1: Giyu accidently discovers just how ticklish Tanjio is and uses it to "train" him.

Ask 2: Tengen learns not to tickle Tanjiro in front of Giyu.

i decided to choose the first one. i hope you don’t mind! giyuu and tanjiro share such a special friendship and i can’t wait to see their friendship grow in the next seasons🥰

Knowing Rengoku was busy out on a mission with a few others, Tanjiro had decided to ask Giyuu to train him. This was something Giyuu couldn’t refuse since he rarely got the chance to be around the kid he saved a mere two years ago. Aside from Shinobu, Tanjiro was the only slayer who would say hi to him with such eagerness. Plus, they barely saw each other throughout the day other than a five minute passing.

The two had been using the wooden katanas for a quick sparring session. Giyuu genuinely was impressed by Tanjiro’s speed and accuracy as well as sharper battle intellect. After they finished and took a break, Tanjiro needed to do abs and endurance training. Knowing Tanjiro could do endurance well, Giyuu focused on abdominal workouts, finding it amusing how Tanjiro got worn out after five minutes.

“Come on, Tanjiro. You did your sit ups. Now hold the plank.” Giyuu said, amazed at how his dwindling energy caused his form to suddenly become so sloppy.

“I’m trying, Giyuu san! I’m tired…” Tanjiro said, shaking his arms out.

“I know but you gotta push through.” Giyuu replied, walking around to the side to see Tanjiro’s positioning. “You’re not even engaging your abs.”

“What..? I’m not?” Tanjiro asked. “I swear I am!”

Giyuu shook his head. “Nope. See how your dropping your hips? Lazy form.”

Tanjiro tried fixing his posture but it still was incorrect. To correct him, Giyuu poked his lower back, signaling to lower the hips. When Tanjiro lowered it too much, he poked Tanjiro’s tummy to signal to lift the hips up. That didn’t work out and Giyuu watched Tanjiro collapse to the floor in a fit of giggles, realizing that tickled him.

“Ooh…” Giyuu squeaked, knowing he didn’t mean to tickle him. “Sorry.”

“Ihihi’m so sorry, Gihihiyuu sahahahan!! Thahat tihihickled!” Tanjiro giggled, screeching as Giyuu suddenly grabbed the center of his stomach and squeezed. “OH NOHOHO GIHIHIYUU SAHAHAN NOOOHOHO AHAHAHAAA!!!”

“This is interesting.” Giyuu hummed, a small smile forming on his face. “Alright, change of plans. Laughing is a good abdominal workout so you’re going to have a minute of tickling before we move on to endurance training. Hey! Where are you going?”

“IHIHI’M TRYING TO GEHEHET AWAY FROHOM YOU AHAHAHAHA!!!” Tanjiro squealed, kicking his feet out as Giyuu trapped his in his arms.

“But I told you this is now your ab workout! Come on, you have about forty five more seconds!~” Giyuu chuckled, squeezing with a little more force. “Nice! You’re engaging these abs!”

Attempting to roll away did nothing and Tanjiro was trapped in Giyuu’s clutches, his hand still clawing at his belly while the other held him tightly, preventing a sudden escape. All Tanjiro could do was kick his feet out and scream. Tanjiro didn’t mind however. Giyuu was less ruthless than Rengoku is so Tanjiro could tolerate it. When the tickle attack finally came to an end, Tanjiro rolled off of his friend’s lap, gasping for air.

“That’s using your abs.” Giyuu said, patting Tanjiro’s head. “Are you okay?”

“Y-yehehes!” Tanjiro wheezed, pushing himself up. “Ihihi’m okay!”

Giyuu ruffled his hair playfully and smiled. “Good. Cuz now it’s time for endurance training. I’m going to chase you and you can’t be caught…”

“W-whahat happens if I get caught??” Tanjiro giggled, squeaking as Giyuu poked his sides.

“I’ll tickle you again!~” Giyuu replied, wiggling his fingers. “You seemed to enjoy that and Rengoku told me that tickling is a good training method for you!~”

“Rehehengoku sahahan is lying to you!!” Tanjiro said, scrambling to his feet.

“Oh?” Giyuu raised his eyebrow. “Well then, if he’s lying, I’ll find out for myself exactly where you are ticklish! C’mere Tanjiro!”

Without another word, Tanjiro took off, Giyuu in hot pursuit.