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exhaslo · 5 months

Text

Puzzle Pieces Ch11

(Mafia!Miguel x Shy!Reader)

Ch.1, Ch.2, Ch.3, Ch.4, Ch.5, Ch6, Ch7, Ch8, Ch9, Ch10

Warning: Smut so Minors DNI, mentions of abuse, blood, murder, language, fluff, bullying, mentions of sex, car sex, cockwarming, praise

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There was a slight chill in the air as the season's first snowflakes finally trickled down the cloudy sky. The moment Halloween passed, the atmosphere just smelled like Christmas. Every store, building and park was decorated for the holiday season.

Despite the cold winter air, the citizens of Nueva York kept their fall attire of simple t shirts and light sweaters. Those from out of town were easy to identify.

Such as Eddie Brock, who wore a thick coat and hat as he stood in front of your supermarket job. Frustrated by the fact that he could see his breathe, Eddie made his way inside. He breathed a sigh of relief towards the warmth and proceeded to the bakery section.

"Excuse me, is (Y/N) here?" Eddie said smoothly with a charming smile. One of the workers glanced at him,

"Not sure, she works at the Deli."

"Oh, Deli? Really?" Eddie whispered and thanked the worker.

That was a surprise. You were too chicken to handle something as fast pace as the deli back home. Here was worse. Hell, Eddie wouldn't be surprised if he saw you with gray hairs. Just the thought made him snort.

"Is (Y/N) around?" Eddie asked your supervisor.

Upon hearing your name, your supervisor glanced up at Eddie. Not recognizing the man, your supervisor hesitated. Everyone in the supermarket knew that you and Miguel were a thing. Miguel had already claimed you as his own and everyone was to make sure you did not have a hard time.

It wouldn't be pretty if you did.

"She called out." Your supervisor said simply and glanced at Eddie once more, "Mind if I ask who you are so I can inform her when she comes back."

"Her boyfriend. She left while I was away for work, do you think I could know when she works next? I'm sure she will be pleasantly surprised to see me,"

"Sorry, can't give out that information."

"Not even to her boyfriend?"

"No." Your supervisor said firmly. Eddie scoffed slightly,

"Fine. I'll be back tomorrow then."

Once Eddie was out of sight, your supervisor was quick to reach for the store phone. You picked a good day to call out, but Jessica was not here to see this interaction. Eddie was a dead man if Miguel ever found out that he claimed to be your boyfriend.

"Yes, I have some news for the boss."

----------

You were ecstatic as Miguel took you out for the day. It took little to no convincing when he had you call out and already had his driver waiting. You put on your best clothes for him and followed Miguel everywhere.

Everything you looked at for longer than 10 seconds, Miguel ended up buying. You were quick to get embarrassed and tried to tell him to stop spoiling you, but you secretly loved it. No one had spoiled you the way he was.

"The bed is going to have no room for us if you keep looking at stuffed animals," Miguel whispered in your ear before kissing your shoulder. You felt your cheeks heat up as you turned to him,

"S-Sorry, they're all just so c-cute." You replied and grabbed his hand as you pulled him past the store, "B-But I don't n-need anymore!"

"Amor (love), let me get you everything your heart desires." Miguel said with a loving smile.

You hugged Miguel in response. You really couldn't believe how good he was to you. That and you kept forgetting that he was rich. Miguel will literally buy you everything you want and that was dangerous.

"I-I like those plush...B-But all I really want t-to cuddle with is...is you," You squeaked, hiding your face in your sleeves.

Miguel nearly groaned at your cute little confession. He just wanted to grab you by the waist and cover you with kiss and marks, but, you were out in a public mall. Miguel had a reputation to keep. He was just going to have to wait until you two get in the car.

As the two of you passed a large opening, Miguel looked down at the street below. Furrowing his brows, Miguel watched as a small crowd formed around two drug addicts being cuffed by the police. This was nothing new, but the drug was.

Thanks to the new mafia gang in town, Venom, a new drug has spread like wildfire. Miguel did not like it when his city and people were being threaten. This new drug was making whoever took it hallucinate that they were part of a hive mind and worshiped their King.

"Miggy, I'm going to get a drink. D-Do you want anything?" You asked innocently, unaware of what was happening around you.

"No thank you, amor. Here," Miguel gave you his card and kissed your hand, "Get yourself a snack too. You look a little pale,"

"Mhm, t-thank...you,"

Miguel watched you smile shyly, hurrying back to the line. He had to protect your smile. You were robbed of it so much already. As Miguel watched you, he felt his burner ring. Quickly answering it, Miguel moved away from other people.

"Sir, we got a tip from the supermarket. A stranger appeared and requested for (Y/N), claiming to be her boyfriend." Jessica said over the line. Miguel inhaled sharply,

"Did they send footage?"

"Yes, Lyla is sending you an enhanced image of her ex. We'll finally have a face to go with the name."

"The audacity for him to call himself her boyfriend, ha...Hahaha, I'm going to-"

"Hehe, what's so funny?" You asked, your smile wide as you drank your sweet smoothie. Miguel stroked your cheek,

"Nothing, mi dulce conejito (my sweet little bunny)." Miguel patted your head, adoring your expression, "Jessica, I want everyone to keep an eye out, okay?" He whispered.

"One more thing, Miguel. Apparently, Eddie is going to keep going back to the supermarket until he sees (Y/N)."

"That won't happen,"

With a click, Miguel hung up on Jessica and returned his attention to you. That smile of yours was being threaten again. As much as Miguel wanted to leave and go find your ex now, he couldn't leave you alone.

"Miguel, is there anything you want?" You asked, holding his hand.

"We're shopping for you today,"

"I-I know, but Christmas...is around the c-corner...and...and I want to get you s-something...t-that you'll like...or...need." You whispered, pressing your head against his arm. Miguel felt his chest tighten, wondering how many horrible holidays you've gone through,

"Anything you give me I'll cherish with all my heart," Miguel kissed the top of your head, walking around the mall some more, "But, if it pleases you, I can have my assistant, Lyla, help you."

"R-Really?! T-Thank you!"

Miguel was eager to gobble you up again. He resisted and kept spoiling you by buying clothes, gifts and whatever you looked at. He had forgotten about Christmas, since it really wasn't something that Miguel focused on.

Miguel probably should start getting his mother and brother something for Christmas, and of course you. Noticing one of the pop up Christmas stores coming up ahead, Miguel felt you slightly pull against his sleeve.

"Go on, conejita (bunny). I'm right behind you."

You squealed softly as you hurried to the store. Miguel chuckled lowly since it was one of those calendar stores, but it wasn't the calendars that made you excited. Miguel casually stood behind you as you ravaged the puzzles.

Now this gave Miguel an idea.

--------

You hummed happily as you walked out of the mall with lots of new puzzles. Sure, Miguel bought you plenty of other things, but the puzzles was what you were more excited about. Having his driver take all of your bags, you smiled as Miguel followed you inside.

"Someone's happy," Miguel teased. You slowly crawled onto his lap, pecking his lips,

"Thank you...so...so much!" You chirped. Miguel's hands rested against your waist, gently biting your lip,

"We have some time until we reach the restaurant." He groaned, slowly undoing your pants. You huffed your cheeks softly,

"D-Don't be t-too rough."

"Never," Miguel said with a smirk as he hand stroked your cheek.

You whimpered softly, feeling your heart race as Miguel started to give you an array of kisses. Although you said for him not to be too rough, you honestly loved it when he was. Slowly grinding your hips against his, you melted against his touch.

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Eddie cursed slightly as he walked down the streets of Nueva York. His hands were stuffed in his pockets as he watched the normal citizens ignore him. That was all going to change soon. Soon, his new drug was going to get into everyone's hands.

Everyone will worship him.

But, he couldn't without his star player. You. Eddie needed you to help put his new drug into regular citizen's hands. But you just had to move without telling anyone. You just had to be useless and make his life harder.

"Gentle, Eddie. We have to be gentle at first," Eddie whispered to himself.

He wasn't going to take you back without force of course. Eddie knew that he could still manipulate you to do his bidding. All he had to do was say a few sweet words and you would come crawling back to him. It was easy.

Stopping at the edge of a sidewalk, Eddie couldn't help but notice the fancy limo car beside him. He cocked a brow since the back of the mini limo was shaking. A soft chuckle escaped his lips, knowing that someone was having the time of their life.

The windows weren't even tinted that much. When the light turned green, Eddie went to get a glance as the slutty couple. His eyes widen as he swore he saw you moaning as you bounced on some stranger's dick.

"Nah, we're just seeing things now." Eddie whispered, before reaching for his phone, "But...I better get (Y/N)'s address just to be sure."

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You moaned loudly as Miguel held your hips down. You were clenching against his dick as your body calmed down from another harsh orgasm. You swore you saw stars as your body finally relaxed. Miguel chuckled, kissing your neck as he slowly started to thrust back into you,

"See? I said I would be gentle," He teased, rubbing your clit in the process. You wrapped your arms around his neck, whimpering softly,

"I-I know~ mhm~ B-But...W-What if s-someone...ah~"

"I can always lower the window,"

"N-No~" You cried out as Miguel went faster, "M-Miggy~ I-I w-wanna be able t-to w-walk~"

"You will, baby," Miguel chuckled darkly.

Flinging your head back as you rode Miguel's dick, you moaned as you felt nothing but pleasure. Miguel grunted as he pulled you back in and groaned as he started to get rougher. You gasped and cried as Miguel brought you to another orgasm.

"Miguel~" You cried out.

"Good girl, (Y/N)," Miguel groaned as he unloaded inside of you, "See, still gentle,"

"Mhm," You rested against his chest, calming from your high, "S-Still super e-embarrassing. A-Are you sure...y-your driver d-didn't hear us?" Miguel carefully fixed you back up as the driver looked for parking,

"I'm sure." Miguel smirked, pecking your lips as he trailed your panty line, "Want him to hear us?"

"N-No!" You squeaked, covering your face.

Miguel laughed towards your behavior and helped you out of the car. He wrapped his arm around your waist and helped you into the restaurant since your legs were still shaking. He glanced down at your flustered cheeks and thought. He needed to casually tell you that it wasn't safe to go back to work.

"(Y/N), what would you think about not working at the supermarket anymore? I can take care of all your needs." He whispered as the waiter greeted them. You glanced up at Miguel,

"B-But...I don't want-" You stopped, knowing that Miguel didn't think of you as a burden, "I-I'll feel like I'm...just using y-you. I-I want to w-work too."

"Then, work for me?" Miguel suggested as they sat at their fancy table, "I could always use an extra hand." He offered. Your eyes sparkled at the suggestion,

"R-Really?" You gasped and thought, "A-As much...as I-I would like a c-change...but...I...I really can't."

"Why not, baby?"

"W-Well...I-I haven't had...a chance to t-tell you...But," You covered your mouth, looking shyly towards Miguel, "M-My parents...o-own the supermarket I work at...W-Which i-is why...s-someone like me can e-even work...t-there."

Miguel's eyes widen as he proceeded this new information. The supermarket that he took care of his mafia business at; the supermarket were he got his goods from; the supermarket that Miguel had great connection with....was owned by your family.

And those same owners told your ex where you went.

"Is that so?" Miguel said with a devilish smirk.

This just made things even easier for Miguel.

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sethcertified · 11 months

Note

Poly Billy & Stu x Male Reader

Where reader has been canceling plans and spending time with Randy when the three promised to hang out or just generally ditching them for him and they’re hella jealous? Like wanting to keep reader on a leash so he can’t run away anymore jealous.

「 JEALOUSY KILLS ! 」 . . . 📁

scream : billy loomis, stu macher

w.c: 3.2k

⊹˚.⋆ synopsis . . . Billy and Stu confront you, raging in jealousy, after seeing you with Randy at Stu’s party; the man you had been ditching Billy and Stu for

⊹˚.⋆ starring . . . billy loomis, stu macher, & male reader

Macher parties were your least favorite. They always consisted of the people you hated the most: snobbish highschoolers that didn't give anyone below their social standards the time of day unless it benefited them somehow. You were bare witness to this in real time as a highschooler yourself.

You could usually count on the company of Billy or Stu to keep you occupied. For a while, at least. Yet they developed the habit of seemingly forgetting your presence as the party raged on. They would hang out with you for the first couple minutes of the party, but leave you alone at one point or another. Usually to hang out with Sidney or Tatum. It had happened again and again, and by now, you were sick of it. Standing alone in the corner as people you hate surrounded you was not fun in the slightest.

So you invited Randy.

✁.

Billy sat on the living floor, beer in hand, as Stu sat beside him. Billy was used to having Stu as company, and don't get him wrong, Stu is his best-friend, but there's a limit as to how much Billy can listen to the other man ramble. "Can't believe Will was able to do that! A keg-stand with one hand? I wish I could do that. Whadda ya think, Bill?" Billy's name escaping Stu's mouth caused Billy to look to the blonde boy who had been talking to him for... awhile.

Billy felt himself down the last few drops of beer as he cleared his head. It wasn't common for him to zone out. In fact, he would consider himself to be a great listener. Although, you kinda have to be when being not only best friends but also boyfriends with Stu Macher. But today, something else had caught his attention completely.

Stu flops against the wall as he realizes just how much Billy had been listening for. His gaze flickers to Billy, catching a glimpse of what had ruptured Billy's attention for the past half hour.

You, in all your glory, sipping on your drink in the most angelic way possible. A dark blue sweater draped over your body in a simple but beautiful way. Blue is your color, Stu thinks. No wonder Billy was staring at you. He looks back over to said man, watching as his eyes darken and his jaw tense. Confused, Stu looks back to where you stood, noticing the thing that was bugging Billy. "Is that?"

"Randy," says Billy, in a way that makes it seem like what he's looking at is the most absurd and repulsive thing he's ever seen. Stu mouth falls agape as his eyes catch sight of you, laughing as you touch Randy's forearm. "What is he doing with [Name]?"

Billy lets out a sarcastic chuckle. "What do you think?" Stu's eyes narrow as you laugh at some joke Randy made. He had noticed you two getting closer recently. Hell, you even ditched Billy and Stu to hang out with him more than once! But there was no way you two were-

Maybe you were. "They're not- right, Billy? [Name] wouldn't date Randy." Stu asked, panic and jealousy apparent in his tone. Billy sighs as he lips press into a stern line. "I don't know."

"What if they are?" Stu asks.

"We kill Randy," Billy says nonchalantly but there's something dark underlying his words. "Give [Name] a shoulder to cry on, make him ours. Simple." Stu nods along to Billy's words, but doubt still clouds his mind. "What if that doesn't work."

"It will. And if it doesn’t… I’ll put him on a leash if I have to," is all Billy says before going silent once more. His gaze is glued to you and Randy. You are still smiling at him and talking. But that's okay, Billy reasons. When you're comfortable with someone, you love to talk. You could spend hours rambling about the latest movie you saw or the newest episode of your favorite tv show. That doesn't mean you're dating him. Right?

And smiling? That was nothing. You smile at everything. Something both you and Stu had in common. Hell, you even smile at strays. And, to Billy, Randy was extremely familiar to a stray, wild, animal.

Can't be wilder than you and Stu though. Or did you forget who you are, ghostface?

Billy frowns at the thought. You didn't know. Both Billy and Stu had guaranteed that. But what if you did? What if that was the reason you had started to ditch them for the likes of Randy? Everything you had done with them was stuff you were know doing with Randy, after all.

The first time you had ditched them for Randy was on your weekly movie night. After you had yet to show up after an hour, they had gone out looking for you. They eventually found you sneaking him into a movie theater to see the new Hellraiser movie. Something you had promised to watch with Billy and Stu.

As you began to ditch them more and more, they continued to see what you were doing instead of hanging out with them, and every-time you were with him. Doing stuff you always did and/or promised to do with Billy and Stu. Watching stupid movies to make fun of their absurdity, sneak onto the roof to just talk until the sun crept over the horizon, etc.

It drove them insane. Sure, you didn't owe the two anything. You didn't sign a contract saying you had to spend every waking moment with them. But that didn't make the two any less jealous. Especially when Randy wouldn't leave your side.

"Bill, I can't do this anymore, watching them is driving me nuts, man!" Stu whined as he chugged down some of his beer. For a second, Billy was taken aback. He had completely forgotten Stu's presence (again) while glaring holes into Randy's back. "Maybe we should go up to him?" Stu asks.

Billy clears his throat at the suggestion but glares at Stu. "Does it look like we could with Randy clinging to him? Don't be stupid." Stu pouts as he glances back at you and Randy once more. You're laughing at something he said, again. Stu's pout quickly turned into a frown. He was the only one to ever make you laugh that much.

Was he being replaced by Randy? Could Randy do everything he could? Better, even? The paranoia racking Stu's brain makes him sure he's going crazy. Surely, you wouldn't replace him. Right?

"I'm going up to him," says Stu. Billy gives him a pointed look. "Tell me how that goes."

"You should come with me," Stu replies. Billy feigns ignorance to Stu's words as he lifts the empty bottle of beer to his lips. "C'mon man, before it's too late."

Before it's too late.

The sentence echoes in Billy's ears. He didn't want to lose you. He couldn't lose you. Not to the annoying guys at school, not to the girl who always insists on being your partner whenever she gets the chance in English, and especially not to Randy. Billy wouldn't let that happen. Never. Not to anyone.

You were his and Stu's. No one else's.

Before he even can process what he's doing, Billy's standing up off the floor and walking to the kitchen. Stu right beside him with a satisfactory smile across his face.

You chuckle at something Randy says before you notice Billy and Stu walking towards the both of you. Your smile quickly drops. Now they chose to come say hi?

Stu swings his arm around your shoulder, "Hi, [Name]." His tone was flirty in the charismatic Stu way that would usually make your knees weak. Billy creeps up besides Stu. He gives Randy a quick glance before saying, "Hey" to you.

It was impossible not to notice your sour mood. Even Stu felt his confidence falter. You were pissed. Randy clears his throat, causing all three of you to turn your attention to him. "Sorry, Randy. Anyways, what were you saying?" You completely disregard Billy and Stu, focusing all of your attention on the brunette man in front of you.

Randy's gaze flickers to Billy and Stu before sending you a confused look. The two of you do a bit of eye communication as the tension between all four of you gradually increases. "So," Randy finally clears the air, "Have you guys seen the new Hellraiser movie? Me and [Name] saw it the other day."

As soon as those words leave his mouth, both Billy and Stu look like they want to rip his face off. They already knew of you ditching them for Randy, but to hear it out of his mouth made both men want to take you far, far away from the world. Make you theirs and only theirs.

"Not yet." Says Billy as his brown eyes lock onto you. The feeling of his stern gaze makes you swallow awkwardly. Randy didn't know you were going to see it with Billy and Stu. He also didn't know about your repeated ditching to hang out with him. Every word that could and had come out of his mouth was putting you one foot in the grave.

Randy laughs awkwardly, "It sucked. Didn't miss out on much." Billy just nods his head, not interested in what Randy had to say. "But [Name] can make any movie good. I never laughed so hard in a movie theater before."

"We get it." Billy says, annoyance clear in his words. Your eyes widen at Billy. You knew he never liked Randy that much, but he seemed to always tolerate him when you all hung out together. It made sense, so you never bugged Billy about it since Randy made his crush on Sidney very obvious.

Your gaze lingers on Billy, trying to decipher his abrupt aggressiveness. His face is contorted angrily. If looks could kill, Randy would be six feet under.

"So, Randy, you still got the hots for Sid?" Stu suddenly asks. It doesn't sound genuine at all. What were they up to? "Stu!" You whisper-yell at him. His blue eyes meet with yours. "Why would you ask that when Billy's right there?" It seems odd to you the fact you have to remind Stu that mentioning Randy's crush on Sid is a bad idea when Billy's right there. Unless he had something up his sleeve?

"Uh," Randy stutters, now slightly scared of what Billy will do if he answers truthfully. It doesn't help that Stu was staring down at him like a vulture. "A little, I guess." Your lips pull awkwardly back as Randy avoids eye contact with Billy and Stu. Why were the treating Randy like this?

Stu laughs at Randy, "I can't believe you would actually admit that when her boyfriend is right there!" His laughter quiets down but chuckles still escape his mouth. "Are you that stupid?"

"Dude! Stop being a dick," you whisper to him. Stu squints his eyes at you as if he's trying to figure out why you're defending Randy so hard. Stu frowns but continues on his taunts. "Is that why you came? To sneak a peek of her?"

"What? No!" Randy responds. "I came to hang out with [Name], so he isn't alone. He invited me in the first place."

You smile at his words. It didn't take much to notice; however, how Billy's jaw tensed and Stu's hand against your shoulder clenched. If the only people in the room were you four, you wouldn't doubt either of the boys breaking a beer bottle on Randy's head.

"Well, he isn't alone anymore, so you can leave." Billy says. Randy nervously chuckles, "I mean, I could. But I'm already here with [Name], and I like hanging out with him."

"I like hanging out with you too." You tell him, desperate to make him feel less uncomfortable when there's two men right in-front of him who look like they could slit his throat if given the chance.

"You know what's more fun to hang out with? The door. You should go check it out and while you are at it, get your ass out of here." Billy says without any hesitation in his voice.

"Billy!" You gasp. This wasn't cool anymore. "Can I talk to you?" Your gaze flickers to Stu. "Both of you. In private?" You send Randy an apologetic smile before grabbing both Billy's and Stu's hands and dragging them the hell out of here, without waiting for a response from the two.

Billy stops for a moment to speak to Randy once more, "The door is right there. Feel free to use it while we're gone." You curse under your breath as you pull him with you and take him up the stairs, eventually pulling the two into Stu's bedroom. Your hand doesn't leave theirs 'til you shut the door and can only hear the faint noise of the party raging on downstairs.

You let go of them to cross your arms over your chest, "What the hell are you two doing?"

Billy's the first to respond. "Showing Randy his place," he says, without an ounce of guilt for what he had done.

Stu nods and you glare at him. "C'mon, you guys. He's my friend. What's the problem with him hanging out with me? It's better than me being alone in the corner as I watch everyone around me make out and drink booze." It's your turn to be upset, and you hope your feelings get through their thick skulls.

"I don't care if he's your friend," Billy says, putting a strange emphasis on the word friend. Your brows contort in confusion and anger at his words. "What the hell is wrong with you? There was no reason for you to be that rude to him!" You snap. "I really like him, okay? And I don't want to lose him to you two being major assholes."

"Oh, so now you like him, huh?" Stu says and you sigh. Both of them were being so stubborn about this. "He's my friend, Stu. Of course, I like him."

"What about us? Do you like us?" Stu asks and your mouth falls open in shock.

"Yes? Why wouldn't I like you? You guys are quite literally my best friends."

"Then you shouldn't have an issue hanging out with us instead of Randy," Billy says. You close your eyes in frustration. The three of you were just going in circles at this point.

"Is it 'cause he likes your girlfriend? If so, that has nothing to do with our relationship." You ask and the expression on both of their faces makes you immediately regret your words.

"No. I don't care about Sid, okay? And it has everything to do with your... relationship." Billy pauses before saying the word like it's the most disgusting thing he's ever said.

"Yeah, man!" Stu chimes in. "He's weird. His hair is weird. And his clothes. And... and the way he looks at you! You shouldn't be around him."

"What? You two are behaving like children, right now! What is up with you two?" Your eyes widen as you suddenly put the pieces together. "You're jealous!" You place your palm over you mouth as your gaze flickers between the two. "You're jealous of Randy!"

"So what?" Billy says.

You inch closer to them, "You two are jealous because I've been hanging out with him so much. Oh my god. This whole time, I thought-"

"You thought what?" Stu asks.

"I thought you guys just didn't like him because he likes Sidney. But... why do you guys care that much if I hang out with him so much?" You ponder as you sit on the edge of the bed, no longer standing in front of them.

"Because you're ours, okay?" Stu says as he looms over you. Your eyes widen but he goes on. "We know you've been ditching him for us, [Name]. What did we do wrong?" He wraps his long arms around you as he moves to sit besides you on the bed. His hold is tight, possessive, but strangely enough, oddly comforting.

The room is silent for a moment before you speak. "You guys have been ditching me too, you know? At these parties, you'll talk and hang out with me for a little bit, but sooner or later, you leave me alone in some random room surrounded by people I don't know or don't like. Even at school! I didn't want to be clingy, so I made a new friend. I just didn't want to cling to you guys like some dog."

Your eyes show your hurt and Billy and Stu share a look. That was the reason? It never had even processed to them that that could've been the reason. But the same hint of relief in their eyes shone brightly. You didn't know.

"[Name]," Billy says as he walks to you. You gaze up at him as Stu rests his chin on your shoulder. He stands in-front of you before grasping your chin between his thumb and pointing finger. Flushed at the feeling of his intimacy, you avert your eyes. Before any of you know what's happening, Billy closes the distance between you. As your lips met his, everything else went into a standstill.

Too shocked by the action, you fail to respond to the kiss. This wasn't happening. There was no way Billy Loomis was kissing you. Did he-

Suddenly, all your worries turn into mush until the only thing you can think about is his lips on yours. And you finally realize this is what you had wanted for the longest time. To be with him. No- to be with them. They were the only ones in your heart. Stu's body warmth spreads through your body and captures your soul, making you part away from Billy.

Turning to Stu, your eyes bore into his, asking the question that wouldn't dare leave your mouth. Are we about to kiss? Stu answers the question immediately, pressing his lips against yours. The feeling that rushes through you is almost identical to the one you felt while kissing Billy. Your brain fogs, only focusing on him until the necessity to breathe arose, causing you to pull away.

"That was," you pause as your mind tries to find the words. "Unreal." You stare up at Billy dizzily. He takes the eye contact as a positive, sending you a rare but genuine smile. Stu practically jumps on to Billy as he springs up from the bed, wrapping his long arm around Billy’s neck, putting him into a headlock. “Sorry, Bill, but he was talking about our kiss. Not yours.”

Billy pushes him off and you can’t help but chuckle at the two. Billy punched Stu shoulder playfully but still with impact. “I can make them say that about more than kissing. Too bad, you can’t do the same.”

“And how would you know, smart guy?” Stu asks but you can feel the sexual tension start to build up between them. Billy suddenly pulls Stu’s head back by his hair, “Cause you can only take dick.” Stu bites his lip in arousal and you can tell that this was by no means something that they hadn’t done before.

Billy turns to you, Stu still in his grasp. “Do you want this?”

Your mouth opens in response, “I-”

✎ notes . . . to be continued… my favorite type of endings!! if this does well, I will write a part two that is SMUT AHHH

©️ sethcertified 2023

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luveline · 2 years

Text

𝐚 𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 | 𝐚𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐞𝐫

You're not sure you're ready to come back. Hotch has total faith in you. Or, your transition back into the team after your abduction doesn't go as smoothly as you'd hoped.

6k words, fem!reader, bau!reader, some mutual pining, reader is suffering from effects of ptsd, allusions to kidnapping + torture, hurt/comfort, hotch has a soft spot for you (as do most of the team)

༺༻

Reid was abducted, once.

You can remember the anxiety of it like a hand around your throat. It feels cruel to say that his abduction and torture had effected you more than if it had been a stranger, but you meet so many people, so many victims of cruelty, that the fear starts to blunt.

Though it doesn't blur. You find it impossible to forget the people that you've failed, and failing a team mate? That had been excruciating.

Only when you'd been taken yourself had you realised it wasn't a failure at all.

You wish the others would understand that.

"Are you feeling okay?" Prentiss asks as you sit down.

You suppose you had gone down a bit hard. "Mm?" you hum in question, pulling a copy of the initial case file toward you.

"You looked a little wobbly."

"Long night?" Morgan asks.

There's both sympathy and mirth in his voice. If you did have a long night, it wouldn’t be from anything fun. He knows that. Everybody knows that. That's why they're treating you like glass.

"I actually slept really well," you say softly, returning his smile with one that's entirely genuine.

"That's good, considering," he says, bracing his forearm against the conference table.

He's been your number one supporter since you came back. Probably because he feels very guilty about what happened. You'd been paired up at the time.

"Actually, it's common for people who've been abducted to sleep incredibly well for a long period afterward. It's similar to the leisure sickness phenomena- Your body would have been in defence mode, and-"

"Reid," Hotch says firmly, stepping into the room with his usual lowbrow.

"Sorry."

And the spiel begins. JJ lays out the details of the case she's triaged and the team gives their first input. The barest beginnings of a working theory. You try to contribute and find your tongue a leaden weight in your mouth. Ever since you got back, you've been useless.

You can't do your job, but thank god you can sleep at night, right?

You miss the start of his sentence, your focus latching onto Hotch's conclusive, "Wheels up in thirty."

Your team are standing in seconds, trained in the art of quick departures. You used to be good at this part. You're a good agent, even when you're a mediocre profiler.

"L/N?"

You blink. "Mm?" you hum, meeting your unit chief's concerned look with a perfected blasé.

You've come to a stand in front of the table, and everyone else has left. It's you and Hotch alone.

"If you're not ready to go back into the field, that's okay."

If you were Reid, or Prentiss, or especially Morgan, you'd get defensive here, and you would lie well, but you’re a bad liar and Hotch is a great detector for them, so you tell the truth.

"I'm not sure that I'm ready, but I'd like to go. I won't be a burden. I can work effectively."

"I know you won't be a burden."

You tilt your head to one side and feel your hair shift over your thick sweater. You haven't felt like showing much skin, lately. Everybody has noticed, because they notice everything, and nobody has made you feel bad about it. In fact, your fellow agents have made numerous comments about the chilly weather. It's July.

Hotch's eyes fall to your long sleeves for a split-second.

"Do you think he's alive?" you ask.

"Sorry?"

You nod your head toward the board, where the portrait of your kidnapping victim hangs in full colour. "Do you think he's alive?"

"Unless there's evidence that would suggest otherwise, we shouldn't assume. You know that."

"I know that that's the answer you're used to giving."

His voice goes too soft, like he's talking to somebody in grief. "I think he is."

You honestly can't stand it when he talks to you like this. You tilt your head a little further and see him the way he'd been that morning, his tenderness, his fear. He'd opened the door and suddenly you'd known you were safe.

He hasn't looked at you right since he found you.

"I have all my best clothes in my go-bag," you offer.

"Well, go get it. This might be a long one."

—

The jet is a really nice jet.

It's hard not to feel impressed by it. It's a vehicle that can take you from one crime scene to another, and it's a necessary expense, but it feels lavish. The clean smells, the comfort, the kitchenette. It has a full-sized toilet.

"Missed this?" Morgan asks knowingly.

You wheedle your way into one of the four seats surrounding the main table and smile when he drops down next to you. "Missed using you as my personal pillow, maybe," you tease.

"Table hogs," Prentiss complains, sitting on the armrest of the couch in defeat.

You laugh under your breath. Morgan pulls out his laptop and turns the screen so everyone can see Garcia, and as soon as the jet's taken off the second round of speculation begins.

You regret sitting where you had quickly. You can feel Hotch's analysing gaze where he sits opposite. He doesn't believe you're ready to come back.

You lick your lips.

"Why would she cut him open just to kill him straight afterward?" JJ asks. "I mean, if she didn't assault him?"

"It's unlikely that she's a sadist," Reid infers.

"Disembowelment is a pretty painful, horrific way to die. Maybe she realised that and killed him," Morgan suggests.

"Remorse?" you murmur. "Could mean she's… younger. And revenge killers don't always see it through."

"Why take another one if you can't commit to the first?" Prentiss asks.

"Maybe that's why she took him. She wants time to work herself up," you mutter.

You hide your hands under the table. It's hard to ignore the similarities with the current case and the one you're investigating. The unsub who'd taken you had been narcissistic and self-righteous, punishing the BAU for stopping her second murder — you'd predicted her next victim and moved him before she could take him.

So her victimology had changed, and she'd stolen you.

She couldn't commit to her first session of torture: hesitant cuts, loose ligatures. By your turn she'd improved, but her tentative resolve had remained and she'd run after three days. It's the worst thing she could've done, buying herself less than a week on the run and leaving you with no outside communication.

You'd almost died of dehydration.

"She's choosing from a specific group," Reid says. He holds up a photograph of the first victim. He'd been murdered in his bedroom, and the walls are plastered in playboy. Kill all men has been written across his forehead in red lipstick. "Our abductee, he was wearing a t-shirt featuring popular bikini model Miss Olympia. In a state of undress."

“Is that specific?” Prentiss asks wryly.

"She's angry," you say.

Hotch leans forward and clicks Garcia's call button. "Garcia?"

"Sir."

"Are there any prolific feminist groups in the area? Radicals?"

They fall into conversation, a pulling and pushing of information. Something about online forums, flame wars, political arguments.

It's not the strongest theory in the world but they can make it work. You should be making it work with them.

The flight is an early morning longhaul to Idaho and you work the case the entire time you're in the air. There's an abundance of coffee that you reject because you're worried it'll rehash your on-again off-again migraine, and while your teammates are offering theories, intertwining details with bright eyes and bushy tails, you struggle to keep up.

There's a lull before landing where everybody parts ways. JJ moves to sit with Prentiss where they talk in hushed but conspicuous giggles. You hear the words Will and dishes and back rub and decide to stop listening for your own sake.

Morgan laughs, having heard what you just heard and liking it a far deal more, and stands. "Coffee?" he asks as you yawn.

You shake your head sluggishly. "Be quick, we'll be landing soon."

"I know, sweetheart, I heard the same announcement as you." He takes your empty water glass with a supportive squint. "Let me get you another."

"Thanks."

You'd regretted your seat as soon as you'd taken it, the feeling of being boxed in having grown and grown over the course of the journey, and Morgan’s brief departure gives you some much needed space.

You squeeze your hands together until your knuckles ache.

"L/N?"

Hotch is looking at you. You know exactly what he sees. Someone who isn't ready to be back in the field. Someone who isn't being effective, as you'd promised.

"You okay?"

"Just warm,” you lie, pushing your hair away from your neck.

You're a bad liar. He gets up to turn on the air conditioning anyway.

You slouch down in your chair and pretend to nap for the rest of the flight.

—

Crime scenes where people died smell bad. It's a fact. They smell like pee, the sharp stick of ammonia, and the metallic aftertaste of blood. You're trying hard not to fall into your own memories of the two.

You need to move past what happened. The only way you're gonna be able to do that is to re-desensitise yourself, and that includes volunteering for the nasty stuff when Hotch tries to relegate you to questioning witnesses.

"I'm not good at interviews," you'd said plainly.

And he'd taken it for what it was and let you do what you usually do: you look for clues. If anybody could hear you think that you'd be ridiculed, but they can't. You enjoy yourself.

Let's Scooby Doo this bitch.

"Careful," Hotch says, holding a hand near your hip. You'd almost stepped into the largest puddle of blood still wet in the very middle.

Right. He'd let you take the gross job but now you're being babysat.

What did she do in this room? Why did she kill him here but abduct the second man?

"If it weren't for the photos, I'd never link this victimology," you confess.

The photos. The unsub had sent pictures of her abductee with Kill all men written across his forehead. In lipstick.

What changed the MO? Why kill the first at home and steal the second?

The political theory feels more plausible.

"I think you would've." Hotch casts his gaze over the desk. "This is a messy one. Opportunistic but personal. Our unsub, she…" His voice turns to a mutter, as it tends to do when he hits a roadblock. "She wants attention, because the first murder didn't do what she'd hoped."

"What is she hoping for?"

He picks up a piece of coloured paper and holds it up to his chest so you can see it. It's a flyer for speed dating at a Café Martini, every Friday at 6PM.

"Where was Paul last seen?" you ask.

"Good question."

He takes his phone from his pocket to call Garcia.

You listen to their conversation for a while, his serious questions and her flirtatious answers.

You look back to the floor and push the white toe of your tennis shoe into the rug until the rubber's red with blood. It's not good practice. You're now a walking biohazard. Why is the blood still wet? It should've sunk into the carpeting hours ago. How much did he bleed?

When you'd been abducted your unsub hadn't been keen on torture. She'd made small, quick cuts over your upper arms, more to punish you than because she truly enjoyed it, and she'd hit something important by accident.

The blood had pooled in the crook of your elbow. It had stayed wet for a long time. You remember trying to clean yourself up with your t-shirt, too drugged up to move right, and eventually the drugs had worn off and it had really, really hurt.

This boy had been cut from hip to hip.

"Maybe you should go sit in the car," Hotch says.

"Why?"

"I've been talking to you."

"I've been listening."

"Don't lie." Hotch takes a step forward, black shoe close to your white. "Look at me."

You look up, eyebrows raised as you try to blink yourself awake. His eye contact is something you've always struggled to hold, knowing he's learning a lot more from your expression than you are from his. You press the backs of your hands to your cheeks and find them hot with embarrassment.

"I'm really sorry," you apologise, eyes aching. Not burning, just aching. Like a bruise.

Hotch nods, expression impassive. "It's okay. Go sit in the car."

He outranks you as an SSA, he's your boss for every intent and purpose. He's your friend, sometimes, and you've yet to see him make a bad call. You listen and go back out and down to the car. You've already broken your promise not to be a burden.

Best to play along and play well. You don't want a desk job. You don't want to lose the team.

In the car, things feel better. It smells like new and you take some time to breathe it in with slow, deep breaths. The pine tree air freshener hanging from the rear view mirror is still soft and wet to touch. You rub it between two fingers, pensive, until Hotch appears from the house. He looks severe and solemn as usual when he opens the car door and climbs inside.

"Tell me if you can't do this," he says. He never beats around the bush. You wish that he would.

"I don't know."

"I need a yes or no."

You're screaming at yourself to say yes. Hotch stalls with his hand poised at the ignition, waiting for your answer before he turns the key. If you say no, I can't do this, he'll take you back to the room. You know he won't hold it against you because he'd tried to persuade you to take more time off, as much as you needed.

Being alone reminds you too much of your abduction. You hate how you can't stop thinking about it. At work, at home. What if this is it? This is the only thing you're going to think of for the rest of your life.

Unless you can get some new memories.

"I can do this."

"I know that. Do you know that?" he asks firmly.

You lean your head back against the headrest and turn your face to look at him fully. You hadn't been expecting any praise, any softness. You're fucking up on a time-sensitive case — he should be reprimanding you. He should send you packing to Virginia.

"I'm sorry," you say softly.

"For what?" he asks. His eyebrows pinch up at the starts, his lips curve into a frown.

It's startling to see so much emotion on his face on the job; Aaron Hotchner has a switch. He comes to work and he turns off everything that doesn't help the case. Only on rare occasions do you get to see him as a friend — his laughter over group dinner dates, his gentle smiles when he'd kept you company in the hospital.

"For being- For being disorganised," you explain choppily. It is not the right word.

He turns the key and reverses out of the parking space before speaking. "You are an asset to this team. If you can't be an asset right now, that's fine. If you need to go home-"

"I don't need to go home."

He doesn't seem offended at being interrupted. "Your wellbeing is more important than your effectiveness as a profiler. But you can't get in the way."

"I won't."

"I know you won't. Just…" He pulls his phone out of his pocket, dials a number. He's not looking at you when he finishes, "Calm down. Stay present. We need you with us."

You turn your face to the window so he can't see your smile. He hasn't been this nice to you since your birthday.

—

The thirty six hour mark comes to pass quickly and you find yourselves no closer to a positive ID on the unsub or their location. Any leads you follow dry up, witnesses won't cooperate, nobody has slept properly (besides yourself), and the boy's parents are hysterical. Hysterical and an irritant.

You can hear them arguing with Hotch and the police chief in the other room.

"You look amazing," JJ says tiredly. You can't tell if her annoyance is genuine or not.

"Did you sleep?" you ask.

JJ looks amazing herself despite what she might say, all perfect skin and lovely blonde hair like a moving sheet of silver-gold. You revere her pretty thin sweater with poorly hidden envy as she yawns and stretches against her straight-backed chair.

"I slept. Bed was about as comfy as this chair," she says ruefully.

"Ninety percent of all abduction victims are killed within the first thirty-six hours," Hotch says as he enters the room, in what Morgan would call his drill sergeant's drawl. "Every hour past that point, the percentage increases."

Everybody in the room knows that statistic. His passive aggressive reminder serves to electrify a dozing Reid and a slumped Prentiss, both of which sit up in their chairs and pretend to be busier than they are as he makes his way into the room.

"Actually," Reid whispers to you, voice rough with fatigue, "the math isn't that simple."

"Do you want to explain it to me?" you whisper back.

You can't admit to really truly listening to Reid's explanation. You want him to feel heard even when you don't have the capacity for it, so you nod and hum as he explains, heads bent together as the rest of the team trade new theories. He talks surprisingly quickly for all his fatigue, and before you've realised it he's talking about something new.

"Reid," you intrerupt gently, "can I ask you a question?"

"Go ahead."

You look up. Everyone seems too busy to be listening to you. You take what semblance of privacy you can and push your chair an inch closer.

"Do you think I've been an efficient agent these last two days?"

He juts his head forward. "You've been distracted. Tired, unfocused. But your insight on the unsub's age and what you said about her propensity for regret are both incomparable parts of the profile."

"But easily something someone else would've suggested?"

"Not necessarily." He smiles at you, a mirthful quirk. "Psychologically, the effect that working a case so close to your own trauma," — you bite your tongue in surprise — "would render the average person prone with memory. It also gives you a thought pattern that not everybody else would have."

"You have it."

"Let's focus on the behaviour pattern," Hotch says.

You'd agreed to run point today. Or rather, Hotch had said, "L/N, you'll run point," and you hadn't argued. After all, yesterday had been telling on how much you can handle. Crime scenes are a no go.

Not that there's any crime scene left to analyse. Your team have spent hours and hours trying to draw blood from stone. The case hadn't felt so impossible on the jet, and now…

"I'm benched," you murmur.

"You're not benched," Morgan says, which is irksome because you'd been talking to Reid. "If you were benched you'd be back in Virginia typing up my paperwork."

"She doesn't care about the crime scene, she doesn't care about the crime itself. There's nothing in it for her besides making a statement. So why take a hostage with no ransom, no instruction? Why tell us you have a hostage and cut communication?"

You rub your eyes at Reid's questions and find you have no theories to offer. You have nothing.

"Work the problem," you mumble to yourself. "Work the problem. Where would she go?"

She cut that boy from hip to hip. She killed him quickly after rather than leave him in pain, but she disembowelled him for the statement it would make. For the… mess?

You feel off-kilter enough to stand. You weave through people and hesitate in front of Hotch where he's reading over the timeline, waiting for his face to turn before you talk.

"Hotch," you say tentatively, "what if she's like… an arsonist? Disemboweling is messy. The blood was still wet when we got here two days later, and it ruined the floor."

He thinks for a second. "Her escalation from a private mess to a public one would make sense."

"We thought the pathway from murder to taking a hostage was a step backwards, but what if it's not about the murder at all, it's about the blood?"

"It's common for arsonists to suffer paternal violence," Reid chimes in. "Could explain the unsub targeting men with outward misogynistic attitudes."

You turn to find the whole team looking at you, a familiar drive on each of their faces.

They rebuild the profile. Reid fiddles with what you've said, they specify, they redirect.

Your moment of clarity dissolves quickly but you try to help as they move on to possible locations. If the unsub wants to make a scene, light a metaphorical fire, there are plenty of places she can do it this weekend.

Surprise surprise, Garcia confirms a 'men's rights' rally happening in around two hours, and suddenly everybody's in motion. Hotch lists instructions and the team disperses. You've done it all a hundred times before, Hotch quadruple that, Rossi octuple.

"L/N," Hotch says.

You lift your face to his.

He's really quite close.

"Do you want to stay here?"

You take note of his wording. Do you want to stay here?

His phone is already in his hand. You don't wanna waste anymore of his time. You're pretty useless during movements anyways.

"Is that okay?" you ask.

He doesn't say yes or no, his head doesn't give the slightest nod or shake. His eyebrows remain in their usual pushed down position. "Expand the profile. Make sure we haven't missed anything." In case the unsub isn't where you think.

And then he leaves.

You take your seat at a now hastily vacated table and spend an hour on the laptop with Garcia. She's mostly at the beck and call of the rest of the team, but it's nice to listen to her clicking away.

She hangs up when the team are about to storm the rally venue and things get difficult.

You'd passed all your psych evaluations to return. You can be an effective agent. You can work.

You know all of this.

It won't stick.

You don't have a clue how long you spend staring at the table when your phone starts to ring. "Morgan?" you ask, pressing the screen to your cheek.

"Hey, sweetheart, we got her. And Paul, safe and sound. You ready to go home?"

"Uh," you say, trying to understand what he's said. "I'm not sure." Your migraine is coming back.

When a person gets dehydrated your head starts to pound. It's like a heartbeat, a pulsing ache at the base of your skull and your temples.

You know that it's all in your head, but ever since you got back you've been victim to what feels like a hundred headaches.

Your head hurts, and you look at the floor and suddenly the floor isn't the dull blue carpeting of the police station, but the plywood of your unsub's warehouse.

"Are you there?"

"Morgan, I don't feel well," you say. Your mouth is full of cotton.

"What?"

You cast your gaze around the room.

You leave your phone on the table, unsure if you've hung up, and make your way out of the conference room they've delegated to the BAU. You're in two minds. You know where you are, and who you are, but you feel like you're back there. The walls look like the police station walls but the floor looks like the base plywood of the warehouse.

I'm just thirsty, you think. When you'd been kidnapped you'd become dehydrated somewhere between the fourth and fifth day, and that had come with some minor auditory and visual hallucinations. Dark spots in your peripherals shaped mildly like people, murmurings that could've been the cicadas. Right now, there's a low pitched ringing in your ears. I'm dehydrated. I'm fine. I need a drink, and I'll be okay.

You don't have the facilities to smile at the people you pass, easing your way through officers and into an empty break room. There's nobody here.

You round the table in the middle of the room and move to the cabinets and the sink basin. You take a mug into shaking hands and turn the faucet on.

The water is frigid and soon your fingers are like ice. You part them in the stream, watching the water worm down your palms and wet the cuffs of your sleeves.

"Agent L/N, is everything okay?"

You turn with a smile, ready to assuage any fears, but it's her.

It's obviously not her. It's not her, but she looks like her. Same face, same hair. You turn back to sink and fill your mug.

"Agent L/N?"

"Please," you say quietly.

"Agent L/N?"

"Detective, would you excuse us?"

His voice. Your shoulders relax just enough to ease the ache in your neck. You hear the woman depart, but you're disorientated enough to ask, "Is she still here?"

"She's not here."

“She looked-“ like her. You press your wet hands to the bottom of the sink. It's silver and covered in scratches, a thousand scratches that glow white with the fluorescents. "I don't think I should be here," you mumble.

"I think you're overwhelmed."

"I am." You cringe at the numbness spreading up your arms. "I don't know how to make it go away."

Hotch isn't just your boss. He's a father. He was a husband. He knows how to comfort somebody and he's proven that to you already, but you're still surprised when he pulls your hands out of the sink. He holds both in one palm while he turns off the faucet, and then he tears off a wad of paper towels and starts to dry your fingers.

"You're not in any danger here," he says, turning your hands palm up. "There are a wall of people out there who would stand in front of you. Nothing is going to happen to you."

Despite his careful reassurances you're curling in on yourself, trying to hide. You don't want to be here. You're not sure where you want to be. You have the self-awareness to know you're being awful, that this is embarrassing, and you've put Hotch in a position he likely doesn't want to be in, too.

You blink at his chest. "Where's your suit jacket?" you ask. Your voice sounds far away in one ear and too loud in the other.

"I left it in the car," he says lightly. "We just got back from the rally. You were waiting for us here."

"I didn't go."

"No. You haven't been at your best."

"I'm trying."

"I know," he says softly, thumbs rubbing over your warming fingers. "I know you are. You're doing really well. Why don't we sit down?"

You let him lead you backward into a hard-backed chair. He doesn't sit with you, but he doesn't let go of your hands. They're limp in his and smaller, colder.

You think he might be the only thing keeping you here.

"I've never been that scared before. I've had a… gun to my head and… it wasn't even her-" You choke on it. "Her. She hurt me and it wasn't even the worst part."

He frowns down at you. "What was the worst part?"

You let your fingers unfurl across his open palm. He pulls your hands to his chest, sandwiches them between his own hands and his crisp white shirt. His tie feels silky soft.

"I didn't want to be alone. I," — you close your eyes and press your chin to your chest, hiding, always hiding — "knew I wasn't going to last long by myself. I could see that bottle of water on the table and I couldn't reach it and I just kept waiting for somebody to open the door and pass it to me, and I was so scared that nobody was ever going to do that.

"I close my eyes and- and I see it. I see the wood flooring, and I see the table. I can't remember anything that she said to me anymore, but I remember thinking you weren't ever coming to get me."

You can see the way the light from a crack in the corrugated roof had lit the water bottle up like a lamp. You barely have to think about it and the image of it is there. Your mouth had ached.

You can see him if you try a little harder. The door flying open. Hotch in his vest with his hair falling onto his forehead, a gun in one hand and a flashlight held high in the other. His broad, quick sweep, and then the way he'd leapt for you. His voice, shouting, screaming instructions. You can feel his hand behind your head, his fingers pushed roughly into your hair.

"You're okay," he'd said.

You trust him with your life. You've never had cause to doubt him. But you hadn't believed him then, and you're not sure you do now.

His expression changes slowly. He moves both of your hands into one of his own and squeezes them reassuringly as he cups your cheek. It's a quick touch, a half-second of contact.

"You made a mistake, in that case," he says, hand moving from your cheek to the hill of your shoulder.

You tamp down a wince. "Yeah." He's being generous. You'd made hundreds of mistakes. Every opportunity to save yourself wasted.

"Your mistake," he says, holding your eye, his voice gritty with severity, "was thinking I wouldn't find you.”

He turns to a blur the longer you stare at him, panicked tears welling up with nowhere to go. You tip your head forward so he can't see them, and he steps closer in turn, ushering your face into his abdomen.

His hand falls to your trembling back.

"That was your only error. You did everything else right."

Your tears come thick and fast. Hotch doesn't baulk.

—

You agree to take some more time off.

Realistically, you can't be an effective agent or a reliable member of the team whilst smothered in memories as you are. You don't take it personally when Hotch insists, as he takes great care to explain to you what's happening.

This isn't a punishment. You need more time.

You're a safety risk. Not that your consultation isn't valuable, it is, you're still a good profiler — an amazing profiler, if your team are to be believed — but you're in the aftershocks of a traumatic event.

A wound can't heal if it's being picked at.

"He said that?" you ask quietly, bed sheets upto your chin.

Hotch's voice rings scratchy with tiredness down the line, "He said you can have all of the blue ones."

"He's generous. He gets that from his dad."

"He's much kinder than I am." You hear a small voice on the other end, and then a muffled, "Yeah, g-man, I'll tell her. I'll tell her right now. Okay. Y/N?"

"Yeah, still here."

"Jack says," he recounts, parent tone in play that tells you his son is nearby, "that you can have all the blue and all of the green band-aids, if you need them."

You stare up at the white plaster ceiling of your apartment, a tiny smile playing on your lips.

"Tell him I said thank you. I'm sure they'll make me all better in no time."

He tells Jack what you've said. You hear his lovely voice saying something too quiet. "What was that?" Hotch asks him.

"I said," Jack says, voice close to the receiver, "she just needs a kiss because they always make me feel better."

"I've been getting lots of kisses!" you promise him, turning to look at your nightstand.

Propped up proudly is a picture of you and your team in that restaurant in Las Vegas, where Reid hadn't been able to use his chopsticks, and where Hotch had laughed so loudly you'd felt your heart skip twice. It's surrounded by a sea of 'Get Well Soon' cards, and backdropped by a small bouquet of sweetpeas.

Tell me when they wilt, Reid had said. And I'll get you another bunch. It's been proven that flowers have a long term positive effect on moods. People who received flowers regularly reported less agitation, less depression, and an overall sense of satisfaction.

Beside the sweetpeas, in pride of place, is a handmade card from none other than Jack himself, though the message inside was penned by an older hand.

"I'm well looked after," you say, smiling softly.

"You're well loved," Hotch adds.

That, too.

༺༻

again, im not that used to writing hotch so despite my character study he may feel a little ooc that's my bad, hard to show him pining bc he's such a professional at work. thanks so much for reading!! if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging i promise it means so much to me ♡

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runnning-outof-time · 8 months

Note

Congrats on your huge milestone, K! You deserve it as so much more.

Can I request Tommy with 11. “Isn’t it beautiful out here?"?

I can't wait to see what you come up with.

Congrats again 🎊🎉✨

Thanks so much, Ace!! I hope you like what I’ve done with this one — of course I couldn’t help but use a gif from this scene! Enjoy! :)

PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!

Part of my 3.5k Celebration — find more stories here!

A Clear Mind On A Cool Day

Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warnings: none … maybe Tommy being ooc, but who cares, right?

Word Count: 790

Summary: Tommy is able to clear his mind as he spends some time outside with his family.

Tommy eased himself down onto the chair, tipped his head back and almost immediately closed his eyes. He could hear his children playing nearby. The sounds of their excited screams added to the relaxing atmosphere. For the first time in a while, Tommy was calm.

He was sitting this exact same way when (Y/N) approached him some time later. A smile formed on her face as she stopped beside him. “Hi, Tommy,” she said softly, wanting him to know she was there before she gently placed her hand on his shoulder.

“Hi,” he responded in a whisper, not opening his eyes because he knew who it was from touch and voice alone. Instead, he brought his hand up to rest it on hers.

“Isn’t it beautiful out here?” (Y/N) asked as she moved to sit in her own chair.

“It is,” Tommy responded, sucking in a deep breath, loving the crispness of the autumn air. It did wonders in helping him clear his mind.

“How long have the children been playing?” she asked another question, finding her two boys in the middle of grabbing piles of fallen leaves and throwing them up in the air.

“For some time,” he couldn’t give a definitive answer. For once, (Y/N) didn’t mind it. “James came out first. He sat with me until Jacob came out, and then they both went to play with the leaves.”

(Y/N) nodded her head even though she knew Tommy couldn’t see her. She continued watching her children, basking in the comfortable silence that had fallen around her and her husband. If only every day could be like this, she thought to herself. She yearned for calm, domestic family moments like this one. She savored them when they happened because they were few and far between due to her husband’s business endeavors.

“Thank you for taking the day off,” (Y/N) broke the silence as she looked over at her husband again.

Her words made him open his eyes and look at her. He noticed her soft smile. Seeing it made the corners of his lips turn upwards. God, he needed to take more days off.

A cool breeze blew through the trees then, shaking the remaining leaves and making some of them fall to the ground. This made the two, young boys shriek in excitement as they ran to catch them. It also made (Y/N) shiver involuntarily. She silently cursed herself for forgetting her sweater inside.

“Cold?” Tommy questioned after he noticed his wife’s reaction to the wind.

“I should’ve brought a sweater with me,” she indirectly answered his question, a sheepish smile on her face.

“C’mere,” he ignored her sheepishness, tilting his head to the side as he gestured for her to come over.

(Y/N) didn’t need to be told twice. She stood up with a smile and made her way over to the chair Tommy was sitting on. She sat herself down sideways on his lap and nestled her face into the crook of his neck. Warmth overcame her instantly. She was jealous of how Tommy radiated so much heat, but it gave her the excuse to always cuddle closer to him on the colder days and nights….so really she couldn’t complain too much.

“Better?” he asked once she was settled on his lap.

“Yes,” she nodded the best she could with her head on his chest. “Although the arm of the chair is digging into my back slightly,” she pointed out a small gripe, her lips curving into a smile as Tommy shook his head and chuckled.

“Try not to lean against it then, love,” he proposed a solution. (Y/N) wiggled slightly to get away from the chair’s metal arm, so much so that Tommy was able to bring one of his arms around her back while the other draped loosely over her legs.

“Better,” she affirmed once she was comfortable. “And much warmer too,” she added, lifting her head to press a kiss to his cheek.

“Good,” Tommy hummed, tipping his head back so that he could close his eyes again. He reveled in the comfortable silence and the cool air, his mind completely clear and now focused on the feeling of his lady sitting close to him.

The couple stayed in that spot until the sun started to set. James and Jacob came running over then, effectively distrubing the silence, but not completely taking away from the peaceful feeling that had encapsulated their parents.

The family decided to go inside then so that they could get ready for dinner. As Tommy walked hand in hand with (Y/N), he silently said a ‘thank you’ for the ability to have a clear mind on a cool day.

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @theshelbyslimited @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @midnightmagpiemama @cillmequick @rangerelik @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @gypsy-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @raincoffeeandfandoms @dragons-are-my-favorite @dlmlufics @forgottenpeakywriter @cljordan-imperium @areyenotfondofmelobster @little-diable @thomashelbyswife @iambored24601 @shaddixlife

MASTERLIST

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby blurb #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby fanfiction #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x y/n #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders blurb #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #k’s 3.5k celebration

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spiderfunkz · 4 months

Text

✦ CITY OF STARS.

summary : peter swings you to a perfect late-night date.

word count : 0,6k

warnings : tooth rotting fluff, implied fem!reader, pet names, kisses.

a/n : inspired by this deleted scene!! requests for peter are open if u want to send in ur ideas / prompts ^_^ also kind of inspired by that one scene in atsv where gwen & miles hangout by that tower yk

"let's get out of here." peter whispers, his voice tickles your skin again as he places another kiss on your nose.

you sigh, cupping his cheek, "i can't peter, i told you." you repeat — which not surprisingly causes peter to pout. "why not?"

"because. i have.. homework." you shrug. it's true though, the pile of papers near your desk is practically calling you to be read or marked.

he pouts, again. but he isn't giving up.

"don't look at me like that." you chuckle, your thumb caressing peter's cheek, running through his freckles.

"like what?"

"with your big brown doe eyes."

peter tries a bit more. the more you make eye contact with him, the harder it is to say no.

"fine. but you seriously have to get blue contacts, peter." you let go of his cheek.

"yes, ma'am." he nods. you couldn't tell if he's joking or not, but it's funny either way.

he gets up and grabs his backpack, it seems heavier than usual. "grab your jacket, bub. it's gonna be cold."

"where are you taking me?"

"secret."

"that doesn't sound creepy at all."

"come on. trust me." peter's waiting near the window. "are you gonna take me on a swing?"

peter puts his beanie on. "does the hat give it away?" he asks, the spiderman crochet beanie in bright red staring right at you.

you smile. "yeah it kinda does."

peter tucks the loose hair behind your ear before helping you out the window, and before you know it you're one with the wind. and also with new york's pollution.

peter's gentle, one hand holding your waist and the other thwip! -ing away at buildings. your hands are wrapped around his neck, face burried in the crook of it. you could smell his cologne, it's the one you like.

you relax at the scent of it. it almost makes you forget that you're meters up in the air.

but then your shoes touch ground.

it was a ledge of a clock tower. it's not steep, it's actually very spacey up here. if you think about it you could probably fit a picnic up here, a small hangout even with a few friends.

"you good?" peter lets go, "yeah. this is cozy." you say, fixing your sweater. "don't you think people will see us here?" you ask.

"no. but. if they do-" peter opens his bag, "i got back up." he reveals a beanie, like the one he's wearing, it's a spiderman one too but with different colours.

it's white with pink outlines.

"we're matching!" peter puts the beanie on you. it fits perfectly, "that's so cute peter. do i get to keep it?" — "of course. made it just for you. besides i don't think people can spot us here unless they really, really, really squint. and now when they do, they'll just see our hats."

you nod. peter gestures for you to sit.

"i got more stuff." he smiles, teeth showing, teasingly.

you roll your eyes at him before sitting next to the empty space beside him.

he pulls out two takeout boxes, followed by the plastic eating utensils, and some water, and some more.

"oh. wow." you say, impressed.

you weren't kidding. you could fit a picnic here.

"what're you waiting for? dig in!" peter passes your takeout. "i got your favorite too."

"aw. thank you, peter." you give him a kiss. "i'll get you ice cream after this. or whenever you feel like ice cream." you give him another kiss.

"thank you!" he gasps, dramatically. "that is everything i have ever wanted." peter replies.

you smile, "this is everything i have ever wanted."

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heartfullofleeches · 5 months

Note

C.C Christmas headcanons? -🧶

[Yan Incubus + G.N Reader Christmas HCs]

"Santa? Never heard of her. Only lap that was should be sitting in is mine."

"Presents? Why do you need those when I'm the best gift you'll ever receive?"

•Despite the origins of the holiday and his, C.C is a rather festive devil - mostly cause he loves buying junk to spoil his loved ones with and he looks amazing in red. Adores all the pretty decorations around town and having the opportunity to string some up around his apartment with you. Buys the biggest tree that'll fit through his door and decorates his side of it mostly in handmade ornaments of you two together (Don't ask why most of them are of you asleep)

• Wants to bake cookies/make hot chocolate with you all the time, but don't be surprised if you find him spitting in the batter to add a lil extra excitement holiday cheer to the mix (I always forget his saliva is technically an aphrodisiac, but I didn't here)

• Wakes you up bright and early in his holiday best (one of those Santa dresses that rides his ass). Tries to be all cute by bringing you breakfast in bed he made all by himself.... and by that I mean the chef he hired. He knows what you like to eat if that any consolation.

• High chance you won't get through all the presents he gets for you before new years. If you show even the faintest interest in something at a store/online or express your grievances with something not working properly in your home, best believe this incubus has you covered. Throws some lingerie and other fun items into the pile because he's got to treat himself too sometimes, and there's no better way for him to do that than doll up his favorite toy. Hopefully you'll be nice enough to put on one of your new outfits for him as it's all he truly wants for Christmas...well that and your undying love and devotion.

• Wear the matching lingerie sweaters he ordered for you or he will cry and you'll never hear the end of it.

•Mistletoe strung up everywhere. Door frames, above the bed, taped to his horns if they're visible. You are giving this man his smoothes or there will be hell on earth. I doubt he'd allow guests unless it was family, but if anyone is caught underneath it with you that isn't him is getting booted out the nearest window.

• Might be best to keep an eye on the placement of the gift boxes when he's giving them to you - especially if they're in his lap and he invites you to stick your hand in blind. He does say he's the best present you'll receive.

• After the first round of opening presents, C.C would love nothing more than to cuddle up with you and watch some seasonal movies by the fire place. He may go on and on about all the things he can't wait to do to you with certain presents he ordered, but he'd honestly be out like a fucking light all snuggled up with his human surrounded by your love and the heat from the flame. There's always tomorrow anyway.

#yandere x you #yandere insert #yandere blurb #yandere headcanons #yandere imagines #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere scenarios #yandere oc #male yandere #yandere incubus #C.C my oc #yandere christmas #yandere demon #yandere fluff #soft yandere

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yelenasdiary · 3 months

Note

Heya! Some fluff for valentines. Yelena and reader go to a department store and fill baskets for each other with the others favorite things and at the bottom of readers basket is a beautiful ring that Yelena proposes with

Macaronly Have Eyes for You

Pairing: Yelena Belova x Fem! Reader

Summary: You were able to get Yelena do to one of your Valentine’s Day activities that came with a surprise of its own.

Fluff, Fluff & FLUFF!!

Translations: Detka (baby), Ты выйдешь за меня? (will you marry me),

Warnings: None | 1.4K

AC: I loved this idea so much and it was perfect for the photo that came up on my twitter feed that made me want to write something Yelena x Reader about!! Thank you for sending this & I hope you enjoy it!! x

Cupid's Dream Masterlist

"So, I'm just filling this up with things I think you'd like?" Yelena asked as you both grabbed a Walmart basket. You smiled softly, "Yeah! We have 30 minutes, and we can't show any of to each other until we get home" you explained with an exciting tone. Yelena nodded while her brain thought of all the things, she could possibly get for you, "I'll meet you back at the car, oh and don't forget to get a gift box to use at the checkout" you added before giving the blonde a soft peck on her lips and walking away.

Yelena watched as you wondered down an aisle before she turned on her feet and made her way to the confessionary aisle. She started off with the easy items, adding a few of your favorite chocolates and candy to the basket along with a couple of bottles of your favorite drink. She then made her way to the clothing area and grabbed the sweater that you were unsure of buying the last time the two of you were at Walmart.

The first item you put in your basket was the easiest thing anybody who knew Yelena could think of. A box of Mac & Cheese paired with her favorite bottle of hot sauce. As you were making your way out of the aisle, the cheesiest thing caught your eye. A small plushie in the shape of a macaroni pasta. "Oh, she's going to hate this" you chuckled to yourself as you placed it in your basket.

You met Yelena back at the car, she was leaning against the driver's door waiting patiently for you. "You're going to love what I got you!" You said excitedly as you placed the gift box of goodies in the back seat. "You have that look" Yelena replied as the two of you got into the car.

"What look?" You asked, playing off any suspicious look you might have had.

"The look at says you've been up to no good" Yelena replied with a chuckle as she started the car. "I am excited to show you what I got you, you're going to hate it so much you'll love it!" You said, confusing the blonde.

Yelena pulled out of the parking lot and began the journey back to your shared apartment. Your excitement only grew bigger as your mind kept thinking about Yelena's reaction to the cheesy gifts you got her. This was your third Valentines with Yelena, the first one she was away on a mission so there wasn't anything you could do with her and last year, you were sick with the flu and slept most of the day but you still found the energy to cook dinner for Yelena.

This was the year you were able to really show Yelena how much you loved her, even though you tell her every day just how important she is too you, you never wanted her to miss out on these little holidays. You woke her up with breakfast in bed, rose petals trailing from the bed to the shower where the two of you spent more time making out than helping each other wash.

Yelena took you out for lunch at your favorite restaurant before the two of you took a walk-through Central Park where you brought her a Valentines themed balloon from a balloon vender that she walked through the park with. She wasn't exactly a fan of the balloon but deep down she loved how cheesy you were.

"Babe, you missed the turn off" you looked to Yelena with a confused look.

"I know. We're not going home; I want to take you somewhere else" Yelena replied.

"Where?" You asked.

"You'll see" She looked to you and smiled softly, "it's just a 20-minute drive" she added.

Roughly 25 minutes later and Yelena pulled up at Brooklyn Bridge Park. The city lights reflecting off the water made her green eyes sparkle as she laid out a picnic blanket on the grass. "I was going to cook us a late dinner, but this seems more fun" she spoke as she looked at you.

"This is very romantic so for the record, I take absolutely full responsibility for the chance you might fall in love with me just a little more once you open your gift box" you replied with a smile. Yelena chuckled as she wrapped her arms around your waist and pulled you closer into her, kissing you lovingly. "Do you want to go first?" She asked, seeing the excitement in your eyes. You nodded with a smile, "you might want to sit down for this" you chuckled.

The two of you sat down on the picnic blanket, you opened the gift box full of things you brought for Yelena and told her to close her eyes. "I'm going to start with this just to give you a little taste of what goodies I got you" you said, trying not to break out into laughter as you placed a mug in Yelena's hands. "Open your eyes" you added.

Yelena cocked a brow as she read the text on the mug before looking up at you to see you were proudly smiling at her with confidence. "Yoda best girlfriend in the galaxy" she read aloud. "That's just the start of it" you replied.

"You're not going to believe this" Yelena smiled while shaking her head as she pulled out the exact same mug she got for you, "it literally had you written all over it" she added. You broke into laughter as you placed the mug in front of you, "I love it, thank you!"

The two of you took in turns giving each other an item from the gift boxes. Yelena wasn't at all surprised that you'd gotten her a bottle of vodka as well as her favorite meal duo. She loved the perfume you got her and said it was the perfect scent, nothing too intense. You instantly put on the sweat that Yelena had gotten you and you couldn't wait to take a bath with one of the giant bath bombs she'd gotten you.

"Okay, close your eyes again, I saved the best for last" you smiled at your girlfriend.

"Now I am slightly nervous" Yelena chuckled with her eyes closed. You pulled out the last item in the gift box, the plushie of macaroni pasta that said 'Macaronly Have Eyes for You' on the box and gently placed it in her hands. "This is my favourite thing I got you" you said with a chuckle, "you can open your eyes now" you added.

Yelena couldn't control the laughter she broke into at the sight of the plushie, "I hate it so much I can't help but love it" she said, "thank you detka" she added as she reached over and kissed you lovingly. "I have one more gift for you" she smiled against your lips before leaning back and handing you the gift box. You found a small black box that made your heart skip a beat as you looked up at her.

"Open it" she insisted.

Carefully you picked up the small box and opened it to see a ring with a green diamond sparking at you from the city lights. "Yelena" you looked up at her.

"I've been thinking about this since our last Valentines together. You were so sick, and I told you just to stay in bed and rest but you were so persistent on making the day special. Detka, every single day I get with you is special to me and I knew that night that I don't ever want to spend my life with anybody else. I love the way you make me feel and the way you are never afraid to be yourself. I love how cheesy you are and how you always find the fun in anything. I wanted to give you something big and Hollywood style romantic but seeing you walking out of Walmart tonight and how beautiful you look in your sweats and favourite t-shirt, I didn't want to wait any longer" she said with a loving smile.

"Yelena, you broke the rules" you replied, tears of joy filling your eyes.

"I would break the rules for you anytime" she replied as she reached for the ring and gently pulled it out of the box. She looked you deeply in your eyes, "Ты выйдешь за меня?" She asked, her Russian accent the thickest you've ever heard it. You nodded repeatedly as the tears calmly ran own your cheeks, "if you're asking me what I think you are asking me, the answer is yes, a thousand times yes!" You replied.

Yelena slid the ring on your finger before kissing you deeply once more, "I really have to teach you Russian" she smiled against your lips.

If you want to be on the taglist for my work, please click HERE.

#yelenasdiary asks #scarletwidowblackwitch #fanfiction #yelena belova #marvel #yelena belova x reader #happy valentines

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captjprice · 5 months

Note

i just need some domestic Valeria fluff with fem!reader

spending the day together, hanging out, cooking together, literally anything 🥺

Valeria Garza x F!Reader

Quiet evenings

Deep down, she knows she doesn't deserve it. The brief kisses, the gentle touches.. None of this should be reserved for a cartel owner as stern and viscous as her. Yet, when she finds you leaning on the kitchen counter, wearing nothing but a sweater and panties she forgets the blood. Valeria forgets the horrid things that still appear in her mind when she sleeps, like a tape replaying itself.

You're humming. She's too caught up in watching you to recognize the tune, too distracted with the peacefulness of the situation. God, how did she manage to get so lucky?.. Usually, nobody ever made her dinner. Her nights consisted of microwave food at most, because it was the easiest thing available. Now here you were, preparing what smelled like heaven on earth. You startle out of your musical noise when Valeria's hands wrap around your waist, pulling you snug against her. ''What are you making me, bella? Smells delicious,'' Her nose presses against your neck, and you smile, reaching up your hand to toy with her hair for a moment. ''It's just pasta with some good sauce.'' You snicker, and Valeria gives a firm squeeze.

''What? You do know i'm Mexican, right?'' She teases, moving to stand beside you instead. One of her hands leans on the counter, the other still holding onto you tightly. ''I guess i'll forgive you this once..'' She hums with a smile, causing you to playfully nudge her side with a snicker. ''Whatever, Valeria.. I can't be in the mood to cook up some three course meal everyday..''

Despite all of her jokes, Valeria can't even begin to describe how much you mean to her. How much a simple homemade meal means. It makes her feel warm inside, unfamiliar. And where she'd shut it out from herself in the past, with you she welcomed it with open arms. She had been hesitant at first, but came to her senses briefly when she realized she wouldn't have this with you forever– Missions would need to get done, and she'd need to go. Valeria decided it was best to just relax in the bliss of the moment while she could.

In a moment of vulnerability, and totally lost in her own mind and feelings she tugs at your shirt, pulling you in for a soft kiss. Her affection often came in bursts, as she was still trying to get used to a life that is loving, and calm. When she pulls back, her expression is slightly sheepish. ''Sorry,'' Valeria whispers, not all that sorry.. Your cheeks burn, and you shake your head as you tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. ''It's no problem. Now, be a dove and make the table, please.'' With a firm kiss to her temple, Valeria grabs plates and utensils, feeling all giddy inside.

#cod mw2 #call of duty #call of duty x reader #cod mwii #cod x reader #valeria mw2 #valeria cod #valeria x reader #valeria garza #valeria

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writingforstraykids · 4 months

Text

I owe you a kiss - Pt.2

Pairing: Minchan x femReader

Word Count: 3133

Summary: Minho and you work out a few methods to help Chan acknowledge his feelings, good or bad. Both you and Minho have nothing but Chan's best in mind, slowly realizing how insecure Chan truly is...

Warnings/Tags: fluff, angst, domestic life, husband!channie, husband!minho, anxious!numbish!channie, soft!minho, emotional hurt/comfort, soft fluffy shit

A/N: Dedicated to my girls @kai-lee08 @atinyniki and @sona1800 since you related to the first part so much💕

PART ONE | PART THREE

The next morning, Minho wakes up to you, planting kisses all over his face. You poke his side, giggling as he makes a cute protesting noise. "Wake up, sleepy," you tease him. "Channie and I made breakfast."

"I'm tired," he whines softly, feeling the jetlag hitting him full force.

"Minnie, it's 2 pm, come on," you say, and he shoots up in shock.

"What?!" he asks with wide eyes, head turning as he hears Chan chuckling. He's leaning in the doorframe, arms crossed in front of his chest, and watches him amused.

"She's right, if you don't get up now, you won't be able to sleep tonight," he tells him, and Minho falls back into the pillows, groaning, and closes his eyes.

"Come on, Channie made pancakes," you say, and Minho squints at you. "With chocolate chips."

"Fuck you," he presses out before pushing himself up, ignoring your succeeding giggles.

He joins you only shortly after, wearing one of Chan's signature black sweaters and his glasses. His hair looks fluffy, and you can't fight the urge to run your fingers through it. Minho melts into your touch with a soft hum. "Chan's right, you're such a kitten."

Minho's ears burn up as Chan smirks and hands him his plate. "Stop it already."

"Okay, this is the first step of our getting better program," you announce, and Minho glances at you, amused, taking the first bite. “Cherish every bite. Take the flavor all in and focus on how it feels against your tongue. Focus on the temperature and texture," you say.

Minho chokes on his pancake as he can't hold himself back from laughing at your serious face. Tears shoot to his eyes as he coughs, covering his mouth with his hand. Chan drops his fork and quickly steps next to him, patting his back forcefully. Minho winces at the impact and waves him off, still laughing. "Y/N!" he whines as he's finally able to breathe again.

"What?" you ask, confused. "I was doing some research, and they said it's a way to focus on what you're feeling again."

"Why would you-" Minho breaks into a fit of giggles again, burying his face in his arm. "Why would you say it all serious like some instructions on how to-."

"Lee Minho!" you protest loudly, knowing where this is heading.

Realization hits Chan's face, and he has trouble holding back a laugh. "Min, you can't be serious, why-" he fails and laughs as well.

"I swear I hate you two," you groan softly as they giggle but can't fight back a smile at that sound. Your boys being happy is all you want, after all.

"I'm sorry, honey," Minho snorts and shakes his head at himself before continuing to eat. "But she's right, try it out, Chan."

Chan exchanges an amused look with him before taking another bite and chewing more slowly now. Minho cracks up once again, seeing Chan's partly focused but also disgusted expression. Chan almost spits it all over the table, meeting his eyes, quickly covering his mouth.

"Nice texture, love?" Minho asks, and Chan makes a protesting sound, smacking his arm gently.

"Fucking hell, forget that. This isn't working with you two massive toddlers," you laugh and roll your eyes at them. "Minnie, do you have anything planned for today?"

"No," he shakes his head.

"Great, I'm taking the two of you to the beach," you nod.

"On second thought, there's something I really have to -."

"Min," you say firmly. "I know you can't swim, but you have us."

"Ugh, fine," he groans, giving in as he sees a hint of excitement in Chan's eyes. Sometimes, he forgets how much his husband loves the sea.

Just as you're about to leave, Minho gets a call from the company. He joins you again with an apologizing smile. "I'm so sorry, but they want to do the interview that would've been scheduled for today online now."

"Aw no," you pout softly.

"I'm sorry," he pouts right back at you, cupping your face and kissing your nose. You giggle softly, and he smirks succeedingly. "I'll join you later, okay?"

"Okay," you sigh softly.

Minho turns to Chan and flashes him a gentle smile. "You two have fun, alright?"

"Alright," he nods and gently caresses his cheek. "Drive carefully, okay?"

"Promise," he smiles softly.

You watch him leave before turning to Chan and glancing up at him. "You're still in the mood to go to the beach?"

"I'm not in the mood for anything right now, but that probably won't change for a while," he giggles and meets your eyes. "I'm all yours today; we can do whatever you want."

You smirk and gently grab his hand, smiling as he lets you. "We should get going; we can go for a swim now as well, with Minnie coming later."

Chan helps you spread the towels on the sand, chuckling as your hair keeps on landing in your face due to the soft breeze. You smirk at him and put down your bag at the edge of the towels to keep them in place. Once you have everything in place, you take off your dress and throw it onto the towels, smiling at Chan. “Come on, angel.”

Chan chuckles at your eagerness and takes off his shirt, throwing it onto your dress before taking your hand and letting you pull him down to the water. You chicken out for a moment as the cold water hits your feet but Chan is having none of it and lifts you up, making you squeak in surprise. He walks you into the water, gently lowering you down with him.

You smile softly as he lets you stay close and wrap your arms around his shoulders more casually. Your eyes travel up his face, starting at those plump lips you love kissing so much up his nose before meeting his soft chocolate orbs. You lift your hand and very gently caress his cheek, thumb brushing his cheekbone. Chan’s eyes search yours, almost looking a little puzzled, but deep down, you can tell he relaxes at the feeling. “Hey there, beautiful,” you smile happily.

“Stop it,” he mutters softly, blushing a little at your fond gaze.

“This is nice, isn’t it?” you ask, and he hums lowly, not knowing what to say. “We haven’t had much time outside the house together lately.”

“True,” he nods and mirrors your smile as you brush back his damp curls. “Haven’t had much time in general lately.”

“Neither did Min,” you nod and lean back a little to look up at the perfectly blue sky.

“And still you stay,” Chan's voice pulls you from your thoughts.

You frown softly at him. “Of course, I stay.

“Nah, that’s not, of course,” he laughs and shakes his head at you. “You stay with us without complaining once when we don’t have the time we should have for you. We’re away so often, and when we’re home, we’re tired.”

“Which means we’ll stay in the whole day, and I can cuddle you guys. Chan, I chose this when I said yes. I know both you and Min would handle it differently if you could, so don’t blame yourself,” you assure him and gently nudge your nose against his. “I love you so much and all the time we can’t spend together makes our joined times even more special. Just like this here right now,” you smile brightly.

Chan doesn’t know how to respond, but he can tell you’re being sincere. He buries his face in your shoulder and hugs you tight for a moment, humming softly as you run your hand through his hair. “I’m so glad we have you.”

“I’m so glad I have you guys too,” you smile and kiss his head, playing with his hair at the back of his neck. “Let’s get out so we’re all dry before Min gets here,” you suggest, and Chan gives in with a low hum. You pull him back to your towels and sit down with him, not letting go of his hand yet. “Close your eyes, pretty.”

“What?” he asks confused.

“Close your eyes, come on,” you laugh, and Chan rolls them before doing as you said. “Okay, and now?” he asks impatiently.

“Now, take a deep breath and try to relax. Listen to the waves and feel the sun against your skin,” you tell him, voice growing soothing and quiet. Chan does as you say, lying back with you. You gently fondle his hand in yours and turn to watch him.

“Quit staring, creep,” he mutters under his breath.

“We’re married, dumbass. What exactly haven’t I seen before, huh?” you give right back.

“Exactly my point, no need to stare,” he grins and squints his eyes at you, turning to face you.

“What do you feel?” you smile at him, and Chan thinks for a moment.

“Feels warm,” he shrugs, and he huffs at the gently scolding look you give him. “The waves remind me of home,” he goes on. “The sun feels nice…your hand also.”

“See, that’s a lot of positive feelings, right?” you ask, and he nods hesitantly. “Min and I both did some research and found some stuff that might help you feel better…or feel in the first place.”

Chan turns onto his side, facing you now, and smiles softly. “That’s very sweet.”

“Anything for you, Channie angel,” you beam adoringly and sink deep into his eyes.

Chan tenderly cups your cheek and searches your eyes, leaning in a little. You can feel his wedding rings resting against your cheek, smiling at the feeling. “I don’t tell you how beautiful you are often enough,” he whispers, making a slight blush travel up your neck to your cheeks. “Can I…Can I kiss you?”

You blink a little stunned, before nodding quickly. “Always.”

Chan's lips melt against yours, feeling as soft and familiar as ever, sending sparks through your body. His hand finds the back of your neck, fingers threading into your hair, and a soft, weak sound escapes him. Your body searches his, your lips chase his, and you can’t stop yourself from gripping his hair a little tighter. It has been almost a week since he kissed you and you hadn’t noticed how much you had missed it. Chan pulls back after a bit, a beautiful smile covering his lips. “That felt amazing,” he smirks, making you blush.

“Sure hope so,” you tease him lightheartedly and wink at him.

Two days later Minho walks upstairs to get Chan for dinner, a little surprised as he doesn’t react to you calling out for him. He knocks at the door to his home office and lets himself in, closing the door again. Chan sits at his desk, staring into the distance, and the only thing telling him he isn’t completely zoned out is him humming to the tune playing from his laptop. “Channie love?” he asks gently, and Chan snaps out of it, blinking at him confused. “Everything okay?”

Chan is tempted to say yes, but when he meets Minho’s concerned coffee orbs, he gives in, shaking his head. “Not really.”

“How can I help?” he asks, stopping a few steps away from him, unsure if physical comfort is what Chan needs now.

“I don’t know,” he admits and pulls down the sleeves of his sweater.

Minho notices, knowing it’s a habit of his husband when he’s feeling cuddly. He decides to take a different approach and grabs Chan’s spare chair pulling it next to him and sitting down. Offering his hand, he leans back and watches Chan take it, hesitantly intertwining their fingers. “What’s wrong, love?”

“I can’t get anything done,” he huffs, clearly frustrated. “I promised Y/nnie to help her pack before she goes to see her family tomorrow. I also promised Hannie to send over the new track and…,” he trails off, and Minho notices the tears burning in his eyes. “I’m a failure, Min.”

“Oh, baby,” he breathes out and shakes his head. “Come here?” he offers, gently patting his thighs.

Chan glances at him timidly and chews on his lower lip. “I’ll be too heavy.”

“Fucks sake,” he chuckles and cups his face. “I fucked you stupid in less comfortable positions, so move your ass here now for some cuddles.” Chan chokes on his laugh, and a tear spills down his cheek. He gives in and straddles Minho’s lap, burying his face in his shoulder in an instant. Minho soothingly rubs his back and kisses his hair. “You, my hardworking love, are not a failure. You simply need a break from now and then, like the rest of us do. I already helped Y/nnie pack, and Hannie can wait another day, there’s no rush. All the tracks for this comeback are done.”

“Min? Channie? Are you guys coming or-?” you ask, opening the door and frowning at the sight in front of you. “Oh, Channie, what’s wrong?”

“I feel like I can’t keep up,” he sniffles, buried in Minho’s shoulder.

“Keep up with what?” you ask patiently and step closer, exchanging a worried glance with Minho, who seems calm. Sometimes, you really admire him for keeping a cool head when things get rough.

“Everything,” he admits.

You place your hands on his shoulders before soothingly rubbing his arms. “Sometimes, Channie angel, you need a break…and you very clearly need one at the moment. That’s completely fine, and the things you feel are valid. But I can assure you, you’re doing such a good job.”

“We’re very proud of you, Channie love,” Minho agrees, glad that you instinctively chose similar words to himself.

You lovingly run your hand through his hair and massage his scalp, trying to soothe him. Minho rubs his back and leans his head against his, glancing up at you. “Minnie and I thought we’d have dinner now before you guys drop me off at the airport tomorrow morning. We won’t have that much time for breakfast. You want to join us?” you ask, feeling like giving him a choice is the better option now.

“Okay,” Chan sniffles softly and pulls back from Minho, messily wiping his cheeks. He chuckles weakly as Minho cups his face and kisses his forehead soothingly.

Shifting in his seat, Minho turns up the radio after a while to cancel the silence as neither he nor you are sure whether you should talk. Chan is driving, saying something about it easing his mind, and seems deep in thought as he does. Minho and you decided to come along, joining him for an aimless late-night drive. Minho starts humming along to the tune playing and glances up at the dark sky, wondering how the next few days will be with you gone. He smiles to himself as he notices you singing along quietly in the backseat and chimes in gently at first.

“Oh, Min, that’s our song!” you say excitedly, and Minho giggles as he recognizes the new tune: Connected. “I still think it’s so cute you did that, Channie angel.”

Chan chuckles softly and rolls his eyes at you before giving in and starting to sing with you. Minho watches the two of you, amused, singing the parts he remembers. The next song has the three of you singing at the top of your lungs, fooling around as you do so. The smile on Chan’s lips seems genuine and it warms your heart seeing it. After a while, Chan decides it’s time for a break, and you all get out. You smile as you hear the waves crashing against the shore and take a deep breath. Chan’s hands slip into yours and Minho’s as he walks down to the beach with you.

You all sit down in the sand and Minho chuckles as Chan lies down in the sand. “Channie love, you’ll be covered in sand later. It’ll be all in your curls,” he scolds him lovingly.

“Then you can help me wash it out,” he shrugs and smiles up at him. “If you lie down as well, I might help you too.”

“Nope, I have a better idea,” Minho giggles and rests his head on his chest.

“Smart,” you nod and do the same on Chan’s left.

“You two are ridiculous,” Chan sighs before laughing softly.

Minho gently rubs his chest and turns a little to look up at the sky. “It’s nice here,” he says after marveling at the stars painting the sky above you.

“It’s beautiful,” you agree quietly.

A comfortable silence accentuated by the waves and calm breeze lulls you in. You’re ready to fall asleep right there in the sand when Chan speaks up. “I love you two so much…I hope you know that.”

“Of course we do,” Minho whispers and moves a little on him, planting a kiss on his jaw.

“We love you too, angel,” you smile and softly pat his chest.

Chan gently pats your arms, signaling you to sit up. He stares at the sea for a moment, feeling his mind calm. “I think I need a break. Like a literal break,” he says then, and Minho watches him thoughtfully.

“You mean from the group?” he asks gently, and you can see he’s nervous at the thought of managing without him for a while.

Chan hums softly and plays with the sand between his legs. “I was thinking and…I really miss Australia,” he says, and the silence grows heavy for a moment. “I don’t wanna say home because that’s here with you two, but-”

“It’s okay,” you assure him gently. “It’s your family; of course that’s home too.”

“I just need to get away for a while, sort my head. I know you're doing everything you can,, and you two make me happier than anything else, but-"

"Go home," Minho cuts him off gently, and Chan glances at him timidly. His soft brown eyes are filled with warmth and understanding. “You deserve a break. We'll be fine; I'll take care of Y/nnie."

"And I'll take care of Min," you laugh and exchange a fond look with him. "Seriously, Channie, we'll be okay. We can call or come visit, and you can come back whenever you want to."

Chan looks at you and Minho, stunned. He didn't expect your approval as easily as that. "You're sure?" he asks.

Minho scoots a little closer and searches his eyes before kissing his lips softly. "Very sure, Channie," he says gently. "Don't worry so much about us."

Chan smiles gently and takes both of your hands. "Thank you."

“Just…don’t forget about us over there, yeah?” you ask, not fully able to swallow down your own insecurities and fears.

“Never,” Chan says firmly and flashes you a gentle smile. “I could never forget you two.”

MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES

Taglist: (Please let me know if you want to be added to/removed from the taglist!)

@mal-lunar-28 @aaasia111 @galaxycatdrawz @kthstrawberryshortcake @channieaddict @soullostinspaceandtime @malfoygalaxies @rebecca-johnson-28

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httpiastri · 4 months

Note

I need an opinion on a thought that’s been brewing and as saviour of the Paul girlies i think you may be the only one for the job…

Yeah ima just spit it out : Paul Aron size kink

I could leave it there however i simply do not want to I have too many thoughts, i mean obviously First his hands like oh my god??? How FUCKING TALL he is, how fucking built, also his back omg it is so big and I am SO attracted to it like honestly i could take the best nap of my life on there!!!!!! WEARING HOS CLOTHES!!!!!! And he just feels all protective and territorial because he never realised how much smaller than him you were till he sees you wearing his clothes making them look huge!!!! Him realising that it’s making him feel some kinda way iykwim cause he’s literally so much bigger and stronger, and not only is he bigger and stronger but also you trust him so fully anyway (please dont feel any pressure to respond if you dont wanna, and verry sorry about my English lol)

bestie you’re doing god’s work 🙏 thank you SO much for this oh my god. my brain stopped working for quite some time because i loved this too much. i love you, whoever you are <3<3

(headcanons are under the cut because yes, i went a little overboard. but as i said, i loved this too much......guys pls keep the paul asks incoming, they're literally making my days)

(oh and 18+ below. 😁)

– when he starts to realize how big his hands look on you, he won't be able to keep them away from you. he's always got a hand on your body.

– he's driving? a hand on your thigh. you're in public? a hand wrapped around your waist. out with friends? your hand is intertwined with his, no questions asked.

– when holding your hands, he's so surprised every time. he forgets that your hands are that small and the way that his fingers fill the gaps between yours makes him feel so special.

– he loves the way it looks when his hands wrap around the inside of your thighs, and how easy it is for him to pry your legs apart. his palms cover up most of your skin, fingers fitting right along your curves and folds.

– he loves holding both of your wrists in just one of his hands above your head as the other palms your bare ribs. he loves wrapping a hand around your neck, his thumb brushing up and down the front of your throat, feeling your pulse and breaths under his finger. he loves the way he can grab so much of your hair in just one hand.

– he loves using his hands and fingers to rile you up, to pleasure you, to make you feel so so good.

– the first time he saw you wearing his clothes, he almost combusted. his eyes widened so big you thought they would pop out of their sockets…

– it made him realize just how much bigger he is. like, he knew he was tall, but is the difference really THIS big? when he sees you wearing that hoodie of his that's been getting kind of tight recently when he's been putting in some extra work in he gym, and it's so long on you it meets the middle of your thighs, he's swept off his feet. he almost doesn't believe it.

– of course, after that, he thinks he's going to be a little sneaky about it and 'forget' clothes at your place every once in a while. the first time it happens, you text him like "hey, your sweater is here, do you want me to bring it over?" but he tells you it's no stress and that you can keep it for a while… and it makes you suspicious at first, until you realize what he's doing.

– and of course, you can't help but give in to the temptation. you do want to wear his clothes, too, after all. so the next time he comes over, you're wearing said sweatshirt, and his jaw practically drops to the floor when you open the door for him and you're looking up at him with those sweet, innocent eyes.

– so after that, it becomes a habit. he's got a bunch of clothes at your place, and you love wearing them. and when he wears a shirt he's seen you wear, he always feels a bit special. "she looked so tiny in this… but it fits me so well…"

– he gets so protective in some way, because he suddenly sees you as someone so small and in need of protection. he never wants anything or anyone to bother his sweet little baby ever again.

– and it's not just shirts, but also sweatpants and most other clothes too. whenever you're out and you 'forget' to bring a jacket of your own, he always offers you his. and you always practically drown in the material, making his heart flutter so hard.

– i also think he would freak out if you wore his boxers… (in a good way)

– he would get so so riled up if you wore his clothes but nothing underneath. like a long hoodie but with no pants, or a white t-shirt without a bra…

– he would not survive for long.

– oh and he loves to fuck you in his clothes. but that's a story for another time. :)

– istg his chest muscles are thicker than the pillows i sleep on…

– anyway

– naps on him would be so good. idk about you all but i love sleeping on hard mattresses 🤭

– he would love having you lie on him. your cheek pressed to his big chest, skin on skin, your soft breath on his neck making him feel so warm inside. feeling his chest rising and lowering as he breathes, your fingers absentmindedly drawing little figures into his skin.

– or why not lie on his back? his shoulders are so broad and he's so tall that most of your body would fit on his back. very cozy.

– and oh my god, giving him back massages. jesus christ, he would go crazy.

– your little hands, your pretty little fingers brushing against his skin. pressing into his muscles, massaging away any knots. feeling the bumps of his spine, the folds of his shoulder blades, every definition of a muscle. he doesn't understand how your small hands can bring him so much pleasure, but he's putty in your hands immediately.

– just standing next to him is so shocking. like, race car drivers are supposed to be short, what are you doing? who allowed this?

– he towers over you and he always finds it so cute. he loves how you have to get into your tippy toes and pull his face down to be able to kiss him, and the way he can pretend to ignore you and stay out of reach just to annoy you. he loves teasing you (in a lot of ways-) and it's just too easy for him to get a rise out of you when using your size difference.

– and even something as simple as asking him to get that ingredient from the top shelf because you can't reach makes him so smug and cocky. you needing his help and him providing it will never fail to make his day.

– he loves to rest his chin on top of your head. when you're out with friends, when he comes up behind you as you're cooking dinner, any time and any place. especially when also wrapping his big, muscular arms around you from behind, especially when they're around your neck like in the last pic.

– oh, to have you trapped underneath him. he loves hovering over you and caging you between his arms. he loves watching you squirm as he's holding your wrists above your head with one hand, the other running up and down your ribs to pull out shivers and shudders by his touch.

– and the way his hand practically covers up your entire side, the way your frame is so small compared to his… it makes him so impressed because despite how little you are in comparison, you still trust him so deeply?

– he could literally break your neck or femur or whatever bone with his bare hands but here you are, batting your eyes up at him like he's the only man in the world, so sure that he would never do anything to hurt you. and it makes him freak out a bit, but he's also so proud.

– and despite the size difference, you still take him so well? it makes him unbelievably hot.

#paul aron #hitech gp #f2 #prema racing #mercedes junior team #written by someone who's definitely small enough to experience these things with him #asks!#anon!#fluff #smut #suggestive #paul thoughts

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russellsppttemplates · 4 months

Text

Time off the track (Lance Stroll)

Lance and Y/N enjoy having a long weekend off

Note: english is not my first language. I get all fluttery when I write these pieces! Had some trouble finding friends names (they're very private, and I respect that) so I just made up my own.

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 pregnancy

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog

"Sweetheart", Lance called from his spot on the sofa once he heard you arrive back home from work. "In a minute, just need to take these things off my feet", he heard you chuckle before the small creek from the cabinet where you stored your shoes.

"I'm here!", you walked inside, Lance's eyes doing his overall check-up. He didn't notice he was doing it until Henry pointed it out for him in the last race weekend you went to, but apparently the minute you showed up after being somewhere out of his sight, your husband's eyes checked you out from head to toe, looking for any signs of discomfort and then focusing on your babybump, usually bringing a smile to his lips.

"Sit here, I want a cuddle while I tell you my suggestion", he opened his arms, letting you wiggle around and into a comfortable position.

"Oh, what suggestion?", you wondered after you pecked his lips.

"The guys want to have spend the next weekend doing something fun together. It's a long weekend and it would nice spending time together", he explained, hand coming up to your bump and rubbing the skin under the cotton fabric of your shirt.

"That sounds good, actually. A weekend away that doesn't involve racing", you mumbled.

"There's actually a race, still. They want to go to Texas and watch", Lance offered, not wanting to keep you in the dark.

"What I meant was you wouldn't be racing, so we will be travelling all together and I have you to myself still", you wiggled your eyebrows, "and Texas is a really good idea, me and baby have been craving BBQ", you smirked.

"Other than seeing the race, we can just explore the area a bit, see what comes up and what people recommend we do", Lance added, "it will be good to take a few days off".

"Yes, enjoy the sun, good food, good company. Sounds good to me", you smiled sweetly, kissing his cheek and carrying on talking about each of your days.

The group consisted of you, Lance, Anna and her partner Michael, Mark and his wife Evie, Benjamin and Theo, arriving on time like scheduled to the airport, "how are we all feeling on this fine early morning?", Benjamin was the first to speak once you found yourselves by the gate.

"Could've done with a little bit more sleep, if I'm honest", Evie groaned into her husband's shoulder, "but otherwise very excited".

"Me too! Can't wait to feel some sun in my face", you smiled, taking off your jacket since you were feeling hot and giving everyone a show of your baby bump.

"Oh, it's so cute, Y/N! You look great!", Anna gasped, hands in front of her mouth as she got closer to you, "you're glowing!".

"And I also have these sexy things", you lifted your pants to show the compression socks the doctor recommended you wear whenever you boarded flights. You always travelled in comfy clothes, having learned over the years that any other way was simply not the way to go, so you had on a loungewear tracksuit, the flowy pants matching the equally roomy sweater.

"Doctor's orders?", she wondered and you nodded, "I already have issues as it is before getting pregnant, so it wasn't like I didn't expect it. You get used to them after a while", you said, checking to see if everyone was ready to walk to the plane once they checked your passports.

"Would you like something to drink before we take off?", the flight attendant wondered, taking orders from everyone, "could you please get us a bottle of water?", Lance asked, knowing you would forget about it.

"I was going to drink it", you teased, accepting the cup and drinking its content, "I remember what the doctor said", you smiled.

By the time you had been flying for a quarter of the expected time for the whole flight, you got up, walking along the small corridor while rubbing your bump.

"Is this a runway competition? Because we don't stand a chance when you look like that", Theo hyped you up, making you giggle as you exaggerated your walk for a few seconds before feeling your daughter kick.

"Doctor said to keep moving, since the socks can only do so much, and she's been kicking like crazy", you added, tapping the spot over your bellybutton where she seemed to kick harder.

"Hey! If she's kicking, I get privileges!", Lance called, making you stop in front of him as he places his palm where your hand was.

"Do you guys want to go get ready for the pool? I don't feel like doing much else today", Anna suggested, earning nods from everyone before you split into your rooms.

"Lance!", you called, seeing your husband come back from the balcony, "I think I need help taking these off, I can't bend properly", you blushed, not feeling strong enough to pull the socks away from your legs.

Chuckling, he bent down, kneeling on the floor so he could help you, massaging the skin and kissing your calves, "do they feel good?", he asked.

"Thank you", you groaned, wiggling your toes, "yes, it's a nice feeling, I might actually take these up after little one joins us, but they're a pain to get out", you offered, kissing his forehead and helping him get up, "let's go and enjoy the sunny day!", you cheered.

After getting ready, you met the rest of the group by the pool, the guys already in the water while the girls preferred to stay in the sun.

"Are you going us or joining them?", Michael wondered, "I'm going in the water, I've had enough of cold, gloomy days", you said, finding the steps so you could ease into the water. Taking off the cover up and throwing it to your chair, everyone's eyes travelled to your uncovered bump.

"Come here", Lance stretched his arms and beckoned you to approach him, chest and hair dripping wet since he had jumped in. Wrapping your arm around his waist, his right hand went to your bump immediately, "does he ever unlatch from your bump? Or is he always keeping his girls within arm reach distance?", Benjamin chuckled. It was all friendly banter and he was genuinely happy for his friends.

"A good mix of both", you confessed, "It's all new territory and we're going through all of this together. Besides, I've been feeling very clingy and wanting to start nesting, so I'm probably the one attached to him", you blushed.

"I want to float for a bit, your sister said that the best thing she did for her back pain when she was pregnant was relieve the pressure by being in the water", you held your husband's hand, getting ready to let yourself fall on your back.

"We're standing by here just in case you start sinking down like a nail", Mark noted with a giggle, making the boys do a circle around you and Lance as you kicked your legs up.

After a few moments of finding your balance, gravity and all things physics worked as your bump and chest rose up, poking out of the water while you floated, "Y/N! This is such a cute pick! Little one with all her uncles protecting you both!", Evie exclaimed, getting her phone and snapping a few pictures at the moment.

"Now move away, I want to snap a few of just Y/N, she looks glorious", she complimented as the boys swam away, "gorgeous, mama, absolutely gorgeous".

"It feels good", you moaned, "I feel so light weight, like, feather-light", you smiled when you saw Lance look back at you, "we can look into it when we go back home, anything to make you more comfortable, sweetheart", he said, kissing your lips before he held your ankles, moving your body as you giggled, not noticing Evie recording the video she claimed was "for when the little princess grows up and wants to know what love is". Her parents would be the best example and this one of the many moments to show it.

When you got back to the lounging chairs, carefully rubbing sun protection cream on before laying down, the boys started playing Padel in the court the house you rented had, shouts and groans heard while you and the girls got some colour on your skin.

"They're just little boys sometimes, aren't they?", Anna noted, seeing Lance and her boyfriend bicker about a foul.

"In some ways, I guess, but it's good they have eachother to spend time with, Goodness knows I won't play that", Evie sneered, "would you, Y/N?".

"What? Play Padel?", they nodded, "I've played with Lance before, with the other drivers and their partners. I'm not that great, but I'm not nearly as competitive as them, so I just play for the fun of it. Lance was kind enough to invite me out of it when he Charles were fighting for the first place in their Driver's Padel Championship", you chuckled.

"I love these dresses on you", Lance complimented, his hand grabbing yours and twirling you around, smiling when you faced him again and kissing your forehead.

"Thank you, my love", you added, seeing Michael return with the passes for the race, "we're all set guys, c'mon!", he nudged, handing everyone their pass before you walked to the entrance, a couple of photographers taking pictures and a group of fans asking Lance for autographs.

"That's where we will be", you pointed to the hospitality, walking in and choosing somewhere to sit. While you, Evie and Anna enjoyed this racing series, you were planning to stay on sofas while the boys were standing against the balcony railing so they could watch the race.

Throughout the weekend, you couldn't help but notice how Lance had been having so much fun with the boys, making a mental note to do these things more often when you had the opportunity.

He said something and loudly laughed, bringing your attention to him before your daughter made herself known, "it's daddy, I know", you smiled, rubbing your bump.

"She always kicks when he laughs?", Evie cooed, "My goodness, if you two don't stop being so cute, I'm next", she let out a groan.

"Yes, or when he speaks to the bump very closely. The books say she's able to recognise his voice, and it's very cute", you smiled, "although the bigger she gets, she'll soon start kicking my bladder".

"Wooo-ooh!", Lance said as you assumed the race was going well, looking back to check on you and blowing you a kiss.

The vineyard was truly stunning and, despite not taking part in the wine tasting for obvious reasons, you were having a great time.

"Are you also having lunch here? Our chef has done an excellent tasting menu", the young woman offered.

"We already have BBQ booked", Lance stated, "since my wife can't drink right now, we're giving her one of her pregnancy cravings. Maybe next time we visit", he nodded.

When you arrived at the restaurant, you were guided to the table, placing your things down and looking at the menu.

"Can you order for me, please? I really have to go to the bathroom", you wondered as Evie said she was going with you.

When the waiter came back, to the table, he started taking everyone's order, tapping on the iPad as they went along the table, "Can you just make sure the meat is cooked through, please? My wife is pregnant", Lance told the waiter, "absolutely, sir", before he left.

"You really get a kick out of it everytime you say she's pregnant, don't you?", his friend teased, "don't get me wrong, I think it's cute actually", Mark smiled.

"Of course I do, the woman I love is having our baby", Lance cooed, seeing you walk to the table back from the bathroom.

"And she looks incredibly gorgeous while she does it!", Anna said, "she's glowing, really. You guys are going to be such great parents, can't wait to meet the little princess".

"Neither can we, but soon enough", you smiled, accepting Lance's hand and holding it in yours, "soon enough".

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