#it was an absolute drag for me to get through the last two seasons but i'm glad i did!

[frankensteined]

after five million years, i finally finished the vampire diaries 🥹 i've got a lot of thoughts and things that i could get into, but honestly the last chunk of the series was just looking to wrap up storylines and cram in as many last minute cameos as possible and i respect it because that's what i'd do too for a show that probably could've ended two seasons earlier, if we're being honest.

finale highlights include a really good salvatore brother speech, generations of bennett witches lending bonnie their strength to save the literal world, ghost!jo getting to see her daughters thriving, and lexi just like...being there.

finale lowlights include bonnie's "africa" travel brochure. just...the entire continent? in one brochure? okay. and also those shots of elena where you could see nina's actual short hair poking out from the long wig. editors were out sick that day, i guess!!

finale jumpscares include seeing jeremy and john gilbert again without warning. hey guys! forgot about you!

ALL IN ALL, i can safely say that i can definitely see why that, as a series, was a defining staple of the cw for as long as it was. it was a definite blueprint for a lot of other media to come, and there's a lot about it that actually holds up, even today! (there's also a lot about it that really, really doesn't, but that's another story altogether, that i won't get into here).

was it good? yeah! was it bad? yeah! would i watch it again? ...certain seasons! yeah! so i'll sign this off with a ranking of which seasons i enjoyed the most because everyone's got one of those if they've watched the show:

- seasons 1-3

- season 6

- seasons 4-5

- season 8

- season 7

(the first half of season 8 would've landed it at the very end because it's very bad, but the latter half of it was better than 85% of season 7, so here we are.)

it's over, friends! now i need to find some other messy CW series to power through in 2024 to fill the gap! poll incoming...eventually.

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Cherry.

Synopsis - The lines of friendship get a little blurry, one unassuming Friday night in December.

Pairing - Bestfriend!Steve Harrington x Female Reader

Warnings - smut. cursing. steve's got an ego, but for good reason.

Age Rating - 18+

Word Count - 2k

Author's Note - hi lovelies!! my first steve fic!! listen, I actually really didn't enjoy stranger things, but... I love this man. he's charming and he's a softie and he's such a good character to write. hope you enjoy this - it's got me all warm and fuzzy. please feel free to send me a christmas request if you fancy, I'm in the mood to write some seasonal fics. much love, always!! <3

as always, reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics!! please, if you enjoyed, consider reblogging this so it gets further reach. comments and feedback are always appreciated!! thanks, angels. <3

Part Two. Part Three. Part Four. Masterlist. Inbox. The Moodboard. Series Masterlist.

Three rocks ping off the panes of your bedroom window in quick succession.

You're applying your moisturiser in the mirror, winding down and almost ready for bed. Your reflection is illuminated by a faint glow from the fairy lights you've draped over the headboard for the festive season, warm and comforting. A soft, jazzy melody is drifting from the radio softly, a welcome noise to break up the silence.

Another rock hits your window.

You fly out of your seat and towards the source of the trouble, worried that he's going to throw one too hard one of these days.

"Steve," you hiss as you yank it open. "Cut it out. Just come through the door."

"Where's the fun in that?" he chuckles, eyes rife with mischief.

You roll your eyes but step back anyway, making room for him to climb the tree and dive through the window into your room.

"Hi, sugar."

"Hi, Steven."

He grins at you, bright and awake despite the late hour.

"Don't you have better plans on a Friday night, King Steve?"

"And miss out on seeing you in your little pink pyjamas? Absolutely not."

You shove at his chest, smacking him upside the head for good measure. He feigns pain and wraps his arms around your middle, picking you up off the ground and spinning you in circles. You shriek, and the sound makes him laugh.

"Okay, okay! I'm dizzy! Put me down!"

He obliges by throwing you unceremoniously onto your bed, smirking when you almost bounce off it.

"So," he begins, sitting down across from you. "How was it? Do you feel like a whole new woman?"

You scoff.

"What? That bad?"

"Yeah, that bad. We didn't even do it."

He quirks a brow in curiosity, tilting his head to look at you.

"I thought tonight was the big night?"

"Yeah, it was supposed to be. But he was kissing me, and it just didn't feel... right? He started grabbing at me and I realised that you can only lose your virginity once - and that definitely wasn't how I wanted to lose mine."

You shrug, trying to play indifference, but Steve can see the hurt in your eyes.

"You always deserved so much better than him."

"Thanks, Steve."

"Come on, Cherry. The guy is an asshole who happens to be attractive. His face is the only thing he's got going for him."

The mention of your childhood nickname has memories of fruit flavoured popsicles on summer days flooding back. Laughter by the pool, pushing Steve in and screeching when he dragged you with him, staying out in the sun until you were both exhausted. Cherry. You've always been Steve's Cherry, for as long as you can remember. You still wear the lip balm he bought you last year, fitting for your moniker.

"You didn't like him from the start. Actually, you've never liked any guy that has ever liked me."

"Because they're not good enough for you."

"Says who?"

"Says me."

"And you're the boss of me and my love life now?"

"I'm the person that knows you better than anyone in the entire world. I think I have a pretty good view on things."

You huff, but accept your defeat in knowing that he's right. No one knows you like him. Steve always does this. He pisses you off, but makes you love him a tiny bit more each time.

He grabs your foot from the bed, pressing his thumbs into your sole. You relax instantly, tired of half arguing with him.

"I give up."

"With what?"

"Dating. Fuck it."

He chuckles, rubbing soothing patterns into your ankle gently.

"You've barely even started."

"Ooo, sorry Mr Womaniser."

"Stop it," he chides, pinching your calf. "Maybe The One for you just isn't in Hawkins. This place has always been too small for us anyway."

"Yeah, maybe. It'll all change when we go to college, hopefully."

"Exactly. It'll be a whole different ball game. There'll be tonnes of hot guys begging for your attention."

"And you'll be fighting them off."

"Yes I will."

You laugh, poking him in the chest with your foot teasingly.

"And maybe the college guys will actually know what they're doing in bed."

"Hey, some of us do know!"

"Yeah yeah, Steve's good in bed. I've heard it all before."

"Don't be jealous, Cherry baby."

"Jealous isn't quite the word I'd use."

"No?"

He drops your foot and scoots closer, settling in between your parted legs.

"You're not even a little bit curious what all the rumours are about?"

"Steve," you laugh. "I think they're probably just exactly that. Rumours."

He inches in towards you, so his forehead is almost touching yours. Running his fingers up and down the outside of your thigh, he takes a deep breath in.

"You should let me show you just how much I know. We're not all clueless, Cherry. I'm confident I could make you feel good."

You exhale with a shudder.

"I'm not letting you take my virginity, Steve."

"I don't want to. There's a thousand ways I can make your legs shake without fucking you, baby."

You stare into his big doe eyes, admiring the way a single strand of hair has fallen across his forehead. You look for a shred of doubt, or amusement, but all you see is love. Admiration. Trust. Sincerity.

"Okay," you breathe, before your mind has truly processed what you're saying. "Show me what you got, Harrington."

He grins, slow and saccharine, like the cat who got the cream.

"Steve?" you whisper.

"Yeah?"

"This isn't going to fuck things up between us, is it?"

He smiles, big and bright.

"Never. Nothing is ever going to fuck things up between us. It's you and me forever, Cherry Pie."

You chuckle at the nickname, stroking his cheek with your thumb.

"Well, then what are you waiting for?"

He shakes his head and grabs your ankle, pulling you across the bed and into his body. Wrapping a hand around the back of your neck, he leans in, pressing his forehead to yours.

"If at any point this gets weird, or you don't like it... Just say the words, okay?"

"Okay," you breathe, inhaling the scent of mint from his tongue. "Promise."

"Can I kiss you?"

"You don't usually ask," you tease.

It's no secret that you and Steve have kissed a few times. Once after prom, once at a party here and there, once when you were cuddled in bed comforting him after a break up. But it's never led to anything more. Which is probably why this feels a little different.

"I know, but this is a little more... intense, than usual."

You try to ignore the way your heart swells at his consideration for you, and nod your head gently.

"Kiss me. Please."

Steve wastes no time, leaning in to press his lips to yours. He tastes like spearmint and soda, with a hint of the cherry lipbalm he steals from your nightstand. You instinctively shuffle closer to him, straddling his lap as his arms bracket themselves around you. It's like he can't decide where to put his hands - they're roaming up your back, squeezing your ass, kneading your thighs. He's antsy and impatient, eager to feel you.

"Lie back," he whispers against your mouth, tipping you onto the bed.

Your head hits your pillows and you crane your neck to watch him as he crawls down your body, eyes never leaving yours.

"Steve-"

"Stop thinking so hard, Cherry. I can practically hear your thoughts."

You huff but can't keep the smile off your face, willing your mind to stop racing.

"Let me quiet things down, hmm?"

Steve presses a gentle kiss to the inside of your knee, trailing up and up until he reaches your hip. He licks across your hipbone before nipping it with his teeth, smirking when you gasp.

Grasping the waistband of your pyjama shorts, he asks for permission with his eyes, no words needed. You nod and lift your hips, letting him slide them down your body.

You've never been so exposed, which is causing a sudden realisation that the two of you are crossing a line that can never be uncrossed. As if he can read your mind, Steve presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh, tender and full of love.

"Babe, if you want to stop..."

"I don't, I promise. I'm just nervous. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologise," he murmurs, resting his head on your thigh and looking up at you. "Never apologise. You're doing so good, Cherry. I love you."

You didn't know what you were expecting, but it wasn't I love you. You've both said it to each other a million times, but something about saying it in this exact moment makes it feel... weighted. You'll talk about it later. You'll make sure of it.

"I love you too. So much."

You're whispering, scared to ruin the peace you've created. Steve kisses your skin again gently, gazing at you like you've hung the stars just for him.

"Let me make you feel good, okay?"

When you nod, Steve nudges your core with his nose, arms wrapping around your thighs to keep you anchored in place.

"So pretty," he's mumbling. "Prettiest fuckin' girl I've ever seen."

He starts slow, easing you in carefully. Kitten licks and gentle nips, testing the waters. When you tangle a hand into his hair and tug, Steve gets the message.

"You want more, pretty baby?"

"Yes," you confirm, more breathless than intended. "Please."

He dives back in, this time with more intention. His nose keeps nudging your clit, the friction licking up your spine deliciously. It's like he can't get enough, eating you out like a man starved.

He groans into your heat, the vibrations making you whine. When he curls his tongue just right, you keen, the sounds leaving your mouth foreign to the both of you.

"Fuck, you sound so beautiful. You're perfect. God, you're perfect."

"Stevie," you pant. "So close."

"I got you. Atta girl, I got you. That's my girl, give it to me."

Maybe it's the my girl, or maybe it's the way he's slipped two fingers into you, but the coil snaps. Your back arches off the bed as white heat engulfs your body, vision going black for a moment. You can hear him talking you through it, loving and encouraging. Eventually, your grip on his hair loosens as you go lax, collapsing back against the comforter.

Steve grins at you as he licks his fingers clean, crawling up your body to kiss you. You groan when you taste yourself, arms wrapping around his shoulders to keep him close. Resting his head on your chest, you run your fingers through his hair, humming gently when he relaxes.

"You okay?"

"Never better," you laugh. "You're good with your mouth, Harrington. I'll give you that."

"Told you the rumours were true."

You shake your head and reach over, grabbing the glass of water from your nightstand and taking a sip. You offer it to Steve without a second thought, rolling your eyes when he downs the rest.

He plucks your cherry lipbalm from the drawer and applies it to himself, before leaning up to carefully do the same to you. He pecks your lips sweetly before returning it to its rightful place.

"You replace it, don't you?"

"Hmm?"

"The chapstick. I've had it for a whole year, and I've never even come close to reaching the end."

He blushes as he looks at you, suddenly bashful.

"It's special," he murmurs. "It's our thing, you know? And it smells good. I like knowing that I'm the only one who knows you taste like cherries."

You want to poke fun at him, say something to make him laugh. But you can't. He's rendered you speechless, for the second time in one night.

"I like knowing the reason you taste like spearmint is because I've been slipping pieces of gum into the pockets of your jeans for ten years."

"I knew it," he laughs, leaning up to kiss you firmly. "I can't tell you the last time I bought gum."

"You're welcome."

Steve shucks off his jeans and his shirt, climbing into your bed with just his boxers on. You slip your underwear up your legs before getting under the comforter with him, tangling your limbs with his.

The tunes from the radio still hum gently as the fairy lights flicker.

The room is unchanged.

The people in it are not.

read Part Two here. Part Three here. Part Four here.

@lillian-gallows @bookish-embroidery-witch @sweetdazequeen @fruityforcocoapuffs @steviespookie @livsters @diffrent-spokes @violet2022 @mrsjoequinn @valerievortex @chrrymunson

[always-just-red]

Hey, a fluff scenario for cuddling with Rafayel? Thank you 🐡✨

This one really got away from me ahaha, whoops. There's also a moment where my fine art degree really leaps out, so look forward to that, everyone. My first time writing for Raf - thank you anon!!

Perspective

Rafayel x Reader 🎨

Summary: You've spent two hours preparing a meal for Rafayel, and he has absolutely no intention of sitting down to it.

Genre: fluff fluff FLUFF!

Warnings/Additional tags: established relationship, cuddling, kisses, lots of intimacy tbh (soft, not spicy!)

| Word count: 2k | Masterlist |

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

Thirty minutes. You and Thomas had spent thirty minutes on the phone trying to figure out where your boyfriend actually was. Half an hour of he’s not with you? and no, I thought he was with you!— back and forth, like a metronome, and it wasn’t exactly the first time, either.

You’re seasoned investigators at this point: called constantly out of retirement for one last job you swear you’re too old for, and yet you know is never going to really be the last. You’ve already got matching t-shirts printed for the tortured agent’s next birthday: ‘Special Unit: Find Rafayel.’ (He won’t find it half as funny as you do.)

Neither of you had heard from the artist since Tuesday, and— it being Friday— he was either in his studio, painting, or definitely dead. It fell within your jurisdiction to find out, so you’d driven here two hours ago, texting Thomas upon arriving:

He's alive!! 🥳🥳🥳

You’re less excited about it now.

Stood at Rafayel’s kitchen island, you lay out the last of the buffet you’ve prepared to try to entice him away from his art. It’s worked in the past: has seen him sniff the air and follow his stomach to whatever you were cooking, like a stubborn stray cat.

“C’mon, Raf,” you call out, because he’s not taking the bait. “Food’s getting cold.”

“Not hungry!”

Your fists ball around the cutlery you’re setting down on the marble; he’s not eaten for three days. You glance up at him across the open space of his home, taking a deep breath through your nose as you watch him scrawl away at his painting. Somewhere in your mind, Thomas is speaking. This is what you signed up for, remember?

Reluctantly, you cross between the rooms, folding your arms as you come up behind Rafayel. “Raf,” you insist again, “come and sit down. Please? You need to eat something.”

“I’m fiiiiiine.” His paintbrush drags viridian over the lower third of his piece.

“You’re not fine,” you huff, and he doesn’t respond. “Rafayel.”

“Rafayel?” he mimics with a chuckle. “You’re mad.”

He’s ‘Rafayel’ in only two types of circumstance: when he’s making you really, really happy, or he’s making you consider the career-leap between bodyguard and assassin. It’s an extraordinarily thin line, and he just loves walking the tightrope.

“I’m not mad, just worried. Can’t you come eat with me? Your painting isn’t going anywhere.”

“It’s not,” he agrees, smoothing out a stroke of paint, “but what about my inspiration?”

“That’ll be waiting for you, too.”

“You think?” His lips curve as he pensively pokes at them with the wooden end of his brush. “I guess you did spend a lot of time cooking, huh? And if you’re really that worried, then…” He spins around with wide eyes. An epiphany. “Feed it to me?”

You stare back, unmoved by the puppy-like expression. He looks cute, yeah, but you’re not falling for it again. This is exactly how he looked earlier, when you’d convinced him to at least accept a glass of water. You’d almost drowned him in your subsequent efforts to actually get it down his throat.

Rafayel mixes three colours on his palette as you relive the ordeal. Like the once-white of his shirt, it’s awash with vibrant greens and blues, some fresh, some days-old. He pauses when he’s done, but you can tell he’s itching to get back to the canvas. “Give me, like… half an hour?” he estimates. The number’s been plucked from thin air. “The food’s gonna be delicious, even if it’s cold. You made it!”

“Raf, I—”

“And how can I even enjoy it if I’m racing to get back here? I wanna savour it, y’know? And anyway…” he trails off, his attention drawn by something above.

“Yeah?” you prompt, glancing upwards. There’s nothing there.

His gaze snaps back. “Sorry, the ceiling was doing something weird. But yeah, anyway, it’s not like you have to— I mean, it’s not like I’m going to— wait. What were we talking about again?”

Not much surprises you these days, but your mouth is still agape. Enough is enough. “Put the paintbrush down. You’re done.”

He nonchalantly returns to the painting. “I’m really not, though.”

You narrow your eyes. Reassess. “You were right about the ceiling.”

“Yeah?” He looks up.

You snatch the paintbrush. “Ha!”

He blinks blankly at you and your eagerly-clutched trophy, unfazed by the moment of triumph. “Cute trick,” he shrugs. He runs a finger across the palette and applies the new colour to the painting with a quick sweep. “What’s next, Miss Bodyguard? You gonna cut off my ha— ow, ow, ow! Hey! Take it easy!”

You’re pinching his ear, dragging him wordlessly to the kitchen, because you're out of things to say.

“Fine. Fine!” he groans as he tries to keep up with you. You release him and he straightens, his face pink, but not as pink as his ear. “You win! Let’s just get this over with, yeah?”

You stop dead in your tracks, then turn with a look so cold he couldn’t melt it with all of his fire.

“I mean— ahaha,” he laughs nervously, rubbing his neck. “It smells amazing, cutie. You’re amazing. I can’t wait.”

…

Rafayel sits back on his stool, still staring at his painting. The mood is different from earlier. There’s no more restlessness or impatience; he isn’t in a rush. He’s humming a soft song you’re almost certain you’ve heard before, but you can’t quite place the melody. It’s pretty, though: the sort of tune one might recall from a childhood music box, or maybe even a dream.

There’s a clink as you stack two finished plates. Then another. And another.

“Don’t,” Rafayel says quietly, catching your hand before you can collect the plate nearest to him. “I’ll do it later— promise. Sit with me?”

You were never going to say no, but his hands are on your hips before you can say yes, and he’s turning you gently— pulling you up onto his lap. You smile as his arms wrap around you, keeping you from slipping, and he’s warm as you relax back against him.

“What do you think?” he asks, staring out over your shoulder.

Your gaze follows his to the painting, still waiting for him. “It’s okay.”

“Oh yeah?” You can feel him chuckle before it reaches your ears.

“Yeah,” you confirm with a smile, shifting to face him as much as you can. “Kinda pales in comparison to my favourite masterpiece. This one,” you poke two fingers to his chest. “Right… about—” they walk higher, “—here!”

You boop his nose and he immediately scoffs, his face going red. “Sheesh,” he mumbles, unable to meet your eyes. “That was lame.”

“You’re blushing.”

“Am not!”

He squirms as you laugh and try to touch his cheeks; they’re going to feel hot, and he’s a sore loser. His hands don’t manage to capture yours, so they settle for finding your hips again, swivelling you around until you’re trapped by his embrace. You’re both one misjudged move away from toppling to the floor, so you let him keep his victory. What’s left of his dignity, too.  

Your laughter rescinds like a tide, but the quiet is far from empty.

“C’mon,” Rafayel tries again. He nuzzles into the crook of your neck, nudging your head, urging you to look forward. His hair is feather-soft on your skin, and he peppers chaste kisses along the line of your jaw. “Tell me. What do you see?”  

You hum contentedly. “A painting.” You’re not thinking about it at all; your eyes are closed.

“And?”

“A plant. A sofa. Some curtains,” you recall.

“You know what I meant,” he grins against you.

You lean back with a sigh, no longer supporting your own weight, but sinking into him with trust and begrudging compliance. It’s not bad, as surrenders go. He gives you a squeeze of encouragement and your head rolls back, stopping at his shoulder. His breath is skirting over your cheek, just barely.

You open your eyes and really look at the painting.

“It’s beautiful, Raf,” you murmur. It is; it was always going to be. “Everything you do is beautiful.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he chuckles, “I know.” But he wants more. “Does it make you think of something, maybe? Anything?”

There’s no right or specific answer. This isn’t remotely your field of expertise, and you’re oceans apart sometimes, so he has to outstretch a hand. Two viewpoints. Two sides of a coin; you never should have seen each-other.

Your life is hunting monsters, and his is finding beauty in a world where they exist. It’s not what you see, it’s how you see it. Crimson to him is a sunset; to you it’s blood.  

Something in you aches as your eyes roam over his latest work. He won’t tell you what it’s meant to be, not really: that’s a private understanding between him and the canvas, his heart and every stroke of paint. Does it make you think of something? Though the marks are fixed, they’re somehow fluid. The emerald tones are marred by shadows, as though something’s lurking beneath the surface, but there are traces of white, too. Light: shimmering.

“Reflections,” you finally answer. “Scattered to anonymity by a now turbulent lake. They belonged to something else, once, but they’ve taken a new shape— a restless and ever-changing identity— and no-one knows what it is, let alone what it was.”

With a satisfied smile, you close your eyes. That ought to keep him quiet for a minute.

Sure enough, Rafayel is silent. You don’t have to see his crystalline eyes to know they’re set on the painting, soaking it in with a new perspective. His favourite perspective: yours.

You have never been strangers to each-other. Two sides of a coin are still the same coin.

With a light laugh of surprise, he plants a kiss on your shoulder. “Thanks.”

“For what?”

“For taking care of me.” He’s nuzzling into you again. “I know I can be—”

“A pain in the ass?”

He laughs louder. “I was gonna say eccentric.”

“Oh…” You draw air through your teeth. “Yeah. That’s what I meant.”

Your voice is humourless, your face plain. It lasts all of two seconds, and then the charade is falling to pieces; he’s nibbling at your ear, your neck, and it tickles mercilessly. You giggle, but you don’t try to escape. The punishment fits the crime, and who are you to deny him his justice?

You’re quickly running out of breath, so Rafayel ceases his assault, letting you get it back. “Can I look at you now?” you ask.

He clicks his tongue. “I’ll allow it.”

You shift and he lifts you a little— helping you twist around to face him. He smiles fondly as he links his hands behind you, stopping you from falling as you lean back to enjoy the view. It’s the best kind of smile: one that reaches his eyes and makes them sparkle, like the water in the painting, but infinitely more pretty.

You want to feel that smile on your lips, so you lean in and kiss him.

It’s tender and perfect and when you’re done, you snuggle closer, wrapping your arms around him and nestling like you’ll be staying there for a while. You can hear his heart, and though a part of it is in his painting, the rest is with you. Always with you.

“Shouldn’t you get back to your work?” you ask as you think of it, smiling into his shirt. He won’t— not tonight.

“Nah,” he says, running his fingers through your hair. “It can wait.”

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

You Call It Madness But I Call It Love

Chapter 25: Are Family Reunions Always This Awkward?

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

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

Word Count: 5.5K

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

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

Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

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

*********************************************************

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

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

Ben frowns at the mention of your son.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Huh?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hmm.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not when I’m with you.”

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

"Shut up." Ben groans.

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

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

"I missed you too Ben."

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

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

"I'm so sorry."

"What did I say about apologizing?"

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

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

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

“Always.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I love you too Ben.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

You can't move, can't breathe.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Another cold chill traces the length of your spine.

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

Another thought follows. He knows about Lou.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You don't know-"

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

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

"You are."

"I'm your son-" Homelander sputters.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"How is it different?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Rosemary freezes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What?" You croak.

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

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

“Wait what?” Rosemary says.

But you understand too late.

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

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

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

But he can’t stop Rosemary.

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

*********************************************************

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

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

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

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

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

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

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@impala67stellawinchester

@everlove @dangerousgardenchild

[ariisheresstuff]

Flu Season

Pairings: Carmen Berzatto x Fem!Reader

Summary: The flu has been going around, unfortunately, you ended up catching the flu. But, no worries! Doctor Carmy on the way! <3

Genre: Fluff + Comfort

Warnings: Sick Reader :(

MasterList

A/N: Literally everyone has been getting the flu (not me tho!) hopefully everyone gets well if you have the flu! <3

You woke up feeling like absolute shit. Your head was just pounding like crazy, your nose was just clogged up, your throat was on fire, and you had nonstop sneezing. You groaned as you lifted your head up only for your eyes to close shut at the brightness coming from the curtains. You also whined at the empty spot next to you on the bed, however you did hear noises coming from downstairs meaning Carmy was home. You moaned as you laid your head back down only for you to slush your pillow over your head. That’s when you heard footsteps approaching the bedroom.

“Hey, baby, c’mon. It’s already 11:30 you never sleep in this late.” Carmy dragged the blanket off of you only for you to shiver and whine at him.

“Carmy, stop, I’m cold!” Your voice sounded strained and just not you. Carmen frowned.

“Babe, you okay? You don’t sound like yourself.” He said softly as he lifted the pillow off your head only for you to scrunch your eyes, Carmen softly cupped your face as he rubbed a thumb over your red cheeks. “Jesus baby, you’re burning up. You only whined. Small tears forming in your eyes as you looked up at Carmen’s eyes.

“I don’t feel good.” You said through the tears making Carmen frown at you, he quickly tucked the blanket back over you as he sat on the edge while rubbing your neck with his cooled hands.

“Shit, you might have the flue babe. It’s been going around recently. Did this just happen?” You nodded as you placed one of his hands on your burning face making him chuckle a bit.

“I guess it started last night.” Carmen hummed as he checked his phone for the time, he hummed again.

“Should probably get you to the doctors, get you some medication too.” Carmy ran his fingers through your hair as he helped you sit up slowly, you winced as your headache continued. You leaned on his chest, trying to hide from the sun to stop your pounding head from aching. Carmen rubbed your arms as he rested his chin on your head.

“Will you make me soup?” You said making Carmen’s heart swell, smiled.

“You know I will baby.” You smiled too as you wrapped your arms around him, you hummed feeling a bit at ease in your lovers arms. He then pecked your head a few times before helping you stand.

“Come on, let’s get ready for the doctor.” You whined making Carmy chuckle a bit. “C’mon, c’mon. I’ll even shower with you.”

“Oh?” You said as you smirked at him making roll his eyes at you.

“Don’t got time for that today baby, sorry.” Carmen said as he patted your bottom to get you moving towards the bathroom.

“Dang it.” You said with a dramatic sigh making Carmen chuckle through his nose.

You groaned as the two of you made it back home from the doctor. It was 100% the flu making you wanna fall into a hole, you took off your shoes only to whimper at how much your head was hurting you. Carmen took you in his arms.

“Let me do that babe, here.” He gently placed you on the bench next to the door as he carefully took off your shoes for you making you smile a bit.

“Thank you carmy, I love you.” You said through a sniffle, you took one of his hands as you placed little pecks on his tattoos.

“And I love you more baby.” Carmen leaned down to peck your forehead, before helping you stand as well as walking you over to the couch. You sighed as you were finally able to lay in peace. You immediately shivered. Carmen noticed.

“You want the fluffy blanket babe?” You nodded as you hugged yourself trying to warm up, which was impossible. Carmen quickly came back with the big fluffy blanket that you loved. You immediately smiled as you cuddled up the blanket. Carmen crossed his arms jokingly making you chuckle.

“I see how it is babe.” He said with a shake of his head making you roll your eyes.

“I’ll always cuddle you more Carm.”

“Yeah, yeah, anyway what soup you want?” He started looking through the cabinets.

“Chicken noodle, obviously.” You said as you took the remote and flicked through the channels to keep you occupied.

“Chicken noodle it is. You know you have to take the medicine after.” He said while getting the ingredients while you groaned like a toddler as you cuddled up more with the blanket.

“Literally the best soup in the world Carm.” You said as you enjoyed the warm soup, letting it clear your throat and sinus. Carm came by to sit with you only with the medicine making you glare at him.

“If looks can kill babe.” He said through a chuckle as he got the medicine ready for you, you pouted.

“I don’t wanna take it Carm, it’s gross.” You said between sniffles making Carmen frowned at you as he rubbed your back.

“I know baby, but I want my girl feeling better again. I get sad seeing you so down and not yourself. You finished the last of the soup before sighing as you took the tiny cup of the pink liquid, you sighed as you downed the medicine. You coughed before immediately taking the water you had and rinsing your mouth.

“Taste like shit.” You said with a scrunched up face making Carm snort before taking the cup from you and kissing your head as a reward. He took your empty bowl before placing them in the kitchen sink. You laid back down as you continued the movie you were watching. Carmen came back as he sat down next to you on the couch pulling you into his arms. You snuggled in his side, humming into his warmth. He placed an arm around you, securing you tightly as if you would disappear. You wrapped your arms around his torso, feeling your eyes get heavy.

“Thank you for taking care of me Carmy, I don’t know what I would do without you.” You said softly as you yawned, Carmen looked down at you with a smile.

“No need to thank me baby. It’s my job to look after you.” He placed a loving kiss on your forehead as he ran a hand through your hair in a comfort manner. You sighed as you gave him a smile. You yawned again making him pull you in closer to him.

“Get some rest baby, you need it. I’ll be here when you wake up.” He placed kisses on your head as he continued to rub your back soothingly immediately putting you to sleep.

You mumbled a very light “I love you.”

Of course Carmen heard because he leaned down to whisper lightly “I love you more baby.” Before continuing the movie on the TV.

The night ended with the two of you asleep in each others embrace <3

Tag-List: @otomefan @chunnies @slasherstories123 @avengersfan25 @th3h0nkz

[not-magdi]

A Christmas in Monaco

Summary: Visiting a Christmas market with your boy

Words: around 860

Warnings: None, it's pure fluff <3

A/N

Sorry I haven't been able to write about him for so long, the last few weeks were really stressful. But now I have the time to write more again, hurray!!

Hope you enjoy it, love you guys,

Magdi <3

Monaco during the Christmas season was honestly something magical. Christmas decorations hanging from all the expensive shops around the city and fairy lights decorating the streets make it look like the picture from a Christmas card.

Though nothing can compare to the big Christmas market in the centre of the city, the little red and white huts lining up one after another, each one of them offering different kinds of Christmas treats to enjoy.

It looked like the biggest cliché, but that's exactly why you were so excited about it.

You were a sucker for listening to famous Christmas songs blasting from loudspeakers while warming your cold fingers on a hot cup of punch.

You have been talking Lando's ear off since the start of November about going to the market. He found your excitement about Christmas absolutely adorable, the way your whole face would light up when you would start talking about the holidays made his insides feel all warm and fussy.

Now that the season is finally over and you and Lando are both home in Monaco, you are currently dragging Lando out of the house to do, what you've been talking about for weeks.

"Ok, babe slow down, the market is not going to run away." Lando teased you, chuckling as you loosened the grip on his arm.

Gasping, you turn around, "Lando Norris, how dare you, you know how long I've waited for this. You have no right to tease me here."

Laughing even more at your antics, he grabs your hand and pulls it into his pocket to keep you warm.

Hand in hand, the two of you arrive at the market and are greeted by the familiar sound of "Last Christmas" coming from every corner.

Your grip on Lando's hand tightened as you dragged him to the nearest stand to get something to drink.

Now, with two hot mugs warming your hands, the two of you started to explore the area a bit.

"Baby, we still need to get a Christmas present for Max and P, they invited us, I want to give them something."

"Yeah, I know. Do you have any idea what that could be?"

Shaking your head, you started to search through all the different kinds of stands, buying a few things for yourself here and there too.

Lando excused himself for a moment, stating he found a little gift for Max, which was a lie. He found a little silver necklace with a red Christmas ornament on it. Lando wanted to give you the necklace on Christmas Eve, but he knew he would probably give it to you as soon as you were home again.

Meanwhile, you continued to browse a bit, until you stopped as something caught your eye.

You couldn't grab your purse fast enough to buy two little Formula One car ornaments.

Now, with the ornaments in your bag, you made your way to the place where you and Lando agreed to meet again.

You saw Lando already waiting for you, his beanie pulled down to his eyes to protect himself from the cold. But not even that could stop the cold from leaving his nose and cheeks with a rosy blush.

You awed at how cute he looked before making your way over to him. Looking up from his phone, Lando started to smile as he saw you standing before him.

He opened his arms for you to cuddle yourself into his warm embrace.

"Did you find something?" You could hear Lando's muffled voice asking you.

"Yeah wait, I need to show you!" Lando chuckled at your excitement as you hurriedly unpacked what was in your bag.

"Ok ok, close your eyes!"

He did as you told him and held his hand out. You placed the little car into his hand and told him to open his eyes.

Opening his eyes, he looked down, then up into your eyes again with an unreadable expression.

"How dare you."

Raising your eyebrow, you looked at him confused, "What do you mean, how dare I, it's a F1 car!"

"It's a Ferrari!"

"Oh, come on Lando."

"I don't care what you say, this thing is not going on our tree."

Looking him dead in the eyes, you exclaim in a calm voice, "Try me bitch."

The silence between you two, was soon broken as the two of you couldn't keep your little act up anymore.

Laughing and giggling like two teenagers, you made a last round around the market, taking a few photos to post later and meeting a few sweet fans who gave Lando bracelets and asked for a few autographs.

You didn't mind it one bit, always finding it sweet how Lando's eyes sparkled when he interacted with his fans.

With freezing hands, you were back at your apartment, limbs tangled under three thick, fluffy blankets.

Kevin alone at home, was playing in the background as you and Lando giggled and shared stories like you just met. The movie was long forgotten as you two were completely lost in each other.

You couldn't wait to spend Christmas time with him, with your Lando, your soulmate.

[monzamash]

unless you like that — daniel ricciardo

summary – it’s events season and the alcohol is flowing.  rating – a whole lotta smut 18+ (sex scene, course language, drinking) pairing – daniel ricciardo x you (female reader) word count – 3.8k of absolute filth a/n – bit of plot but mostly just sex because drunk, flirty danny ric makes me feral. that's it. enjoy the ride. masterlist

All you wanted to do was drag Daniel back to your hotel room, get reacquainted after a couple of torturous weeks of being apart, maybe run a hot bath and enjoy the rest of your night in peace.

In your dreams.

You never really had Daniel for long during the season and because of that, you wanted to make the most of your time actually being in the same country, let alone the same city. But your handsome, social butterfly of a boyfriend had other ideas – ones that didn’t factor in your desire to have him all to yourself.

So good to see ya too, mate.

We’ve gotta catch up next time you’re in LA, man.

Maaaate, long time no see!

How’s ya mum going? Tell her I said hi.

The mum's bloody loved themselves a bit of Daniel Ricciardo.

The long, doting line of people wanting to wish Daniel good luck for next year and praising his strength through adversity while getting a sneaky selfie was never ending. To put it plainly, it was obnoxious but you were used to it now. He was effervescent, charismatic – a big ‘ol magnet to anyone and everyone. You loved him endlessly, admired his ability to smile through the pain even more but all you wanted to do was say goodnight to everyone and leave.

Barely two words were shared before you were whisked off in a car and through the doors of this swanky restaurant – the private function room and bottomless champagne making it less excruciating.

“All I can think about is getting this over and done with so I can come back here and rip this unbelievably beautiful dress off you.”

Those ‘barely two words’ were enough ammunition to last you a couple of hours, holding onto the hope of that promise coming true. But right now you had to try and enjoy the night and put any filthy thoughts you may or may not be having aside for the sake of your own sanity. Smile and wave.

You didn’t know exactly what the party was for but you knew that the McLaren team were the ones throwing it from the obnoxious amount of orange balloons hanging from the ceiling – and that Daniel was obliged to attend. But you would never have guessed that he was there as a contractual obligation the way he floated through the room, saying hello to every last individual, bright smile adorning his face. He made each and every person feel like a million bucks. That’s why they loved him, because he made them feel at ease – like he was one of them.

Daniel didn’t think there was a whole lot for him to be celebrating but he always underestimated how loved he was by McLaren – racing problems aside, he was adored by the staff who were devastated to see him leaving.

And somehow in a room of nearly a hundred people, he knew nearly everyone by name, zeroing in long enough to have them eating out of the palm of his hand.

Your words, not his.

“Could you say hello to my grandson – he loves you.” An older lady asked, phone locked and loaded for the video. God help him if he said no.

“Absolutely.”

Of course he said yes. That was the kind of person Daniel was. Not a people pleaser or a push over – just a genuinely nice guy with more patience than anyone you’d ever known.

After making your way around most of the room, you finally had a second to drink in your man. The freshly steamed, light blue linen shirt was lazily buttoned over his shoulders, leaving a the tiniest bit of chest hair showing for good measure and to tease you, no doubt. He’d gone for his classic black skinny jeans sitting atop a pair of shiny black dress shoes look that you loved and those wild curls that you’d spent hours twirling between your fingers flowed onto his forehead – he looked so fucking good.

His charm and kindness always had you singing his praises and you made sure he knew how wonderful he was, how attractive he was. Your soft whispers of admiration had his heart pumping as he took a sip of his Chateau Margaux red, lips quirked in a smile. “So sexy.”

“Which part of all that was sexy? The bit where I filmed a video for that women’s grandkid? You are an absolute deviant if that’s makin’ ya feel a certain way, my girl.”

Daniel loved to tease, especially when it garnered that kind of reaction. Rolling eyes, flushed cheeks and a gentle shove in the arm. He fucking lived for it.

“No, dickhead.” You scolded under your breath, “Just… you being you. I don’t know what it is.”

You couldn’t put your finger on it but you knew how it made you feel. Seduced.

“Maybe you can figure it out in our hotel room.”

Daniel shrugged with a smirk lining his lips, nonchalantly throwing out the idea as if he hadn’t been plotting a way to leave the party early. Wishing for nothing more than to have you praising his other set of skills, if you catch my drift. Rolling your eyes with flushed cheeks but in a very different context. He was twitching at the thought as his fingertips lightly scratched at the silky material covering your ribs, dragging your body closer to his.

“Don’t tempt me, Ricciardo. All I’ve wanted since the second we got here was to leave so don’t talk a big game if you can’t deliver.” You were whispering in his ear, hoping to spur on those scheming eyes staring back at you.

“When have I not delivered? Just call me FedEx,” He joked, swaggering away from the bar and waving to Lando who had just rocked up with his crew in tow.

“Do we even know what this party’s for?” Lando asked over the loud music blasting through the speakers, taking the smallest step back after he gave us both a hug hello.

Lando looked dapper compared to his usual hoodie and track pants ensemble that he'd wear around the track. He was slightly confused by the overt extravagance he’d walked into but he was always smiling your way, making you feel welcome. You were going to miss his cheekiness and the way he brought out a different side to Daniel. Mischief always seemed to follow those two.

“Probably just a way for McLaren to swing their dick around before the end of the season,” Daniel shrugged, completely oblivious to how crude his comment was. Thankfully Lando was more than used to it now after working so closely with him so you didn’t have to apologise on Daniel’s behalf.

“The wine’s ace though.” He quickly added.

“You would say that,” Lando replied, snickering quietly as he looked over at the bar, “Might actually grab a drink and come back. Want anything?"

Lando looked between you and Daniel as you both shook your heads until he turned away and disappeared into the crowd, “Kid’s not gonna know what hit him next year – being the golden boy isn’t what it’s cracked up to be…”

You nodded and watched Daniel’s eyes following Lando, pensively taking a sip of his wine before sighing and glancing back to you, “What?”

“Nothing,” You tutted, “It’s funny how much you care about him now after how rocky the relationship was in the beginning. I love that he’s softened you a little bit, made you less of a prick.” You winked.

The insincere insult tacked onto the end made Daniel’s thick eyebrows rise with faux hurt, an exaggerated gasp masterfully added for emphasis, “Me? A prick? I wouldn’t reckon a prick snags a girl like you.”

You watched as Daniel sculled the rest of his wine, a devilish smirk hiding behind the large glass, “No chance. Unless you like that.”

“I don’t hate it.”

Daniel's laugh was dark as he took a step forward, lessening the gap between the two of you before reaching up and brushing your hair over your shoulder, “Now you’re tempting me and that’s not fair.” He whispered into your ear, carefully placing his empty glass on the table beside you.

“Nothings really fair though, is it? You having to be here instead of buried deep inside me, fucking me until I –”

“The bar line’s a fucking ‘mare,” Lando loudly interrupted and caused you to jump back from Daniel’s side. You steadied yourself on his hip for balance as you watched Lando plot his next move.

“Oh, there’s Charlotte – she’ll have an in!”

You and Daniel politely nodded again while he shot off in the other direction, and the two of you shifted away from the middle of the room, out of view of prying eyes and into a private nook. Daniel was quick to pin you up against the wall, large hand pressing into your hip as you looked up at him with innocent eyes. He could see right through you.

“Don’t give me that look,” He growled, eyes narrowed. “Look at what you do to me.”

His whispered words and flickering eyes encouraged your hands that were playing with his slightly parted shirt to travel further south, fingertips tracing over his dark denim jeans that were a lot tighter than when he first got here. Almost too tight.

“You are fuckin’ cruel, sweetheart.”

The painfully hard outline pressing against your palm intoxicated your already foggy mind, mouth watering. You could feel your thighs magnetically pulling together as his thumb flicked the dimple in your chin, forcing you to look into his dark, misty eyes that were watching your every move.

"Want me to do something about it?" It was a bold question to ask, a dangerous one, even when you noticed his eyes change colour. They were blacker than the night sky now.

Daniel was exasperated, anguished by the question as he smiled and dipped his forehead onto yours. The answer was obviously “abso-fucking-lutely, get down on your knees and show me you love me” but he knew better. And so did you. Still, the warm puff of air from his laugh still sent surging chills down your arched spine, needy for his touch.

“I hate sayin’ no to you,” He rasped and closed his eyes for a fleeting moment, “Especially when I know how fucking good you feel but no. You can't.”

You dryly chuckled and brushed your hands over his puffed out chest, “Must be absolute torture, my boy. Thankfully I can hide how I’m feeling – you? Not so much.” You replied with gritted teeth and a shrug, smirk dancing on your lips.

“Yeah, you’re fuckin’ in for it later, mate.” He playfully retorted before pulling himself from your grasp and leaving you with what he thought was a threat, but what you took as a promise you hoped to God he would keep. You were soaked. to. the. core.

The expensive champagne continued to flow freely for hours and several glasses of wine later had you and Daniel fumbling around at your hotel room door, unsure whether you’d arrived at the right number and having absolutely no idea where the key card you barely remembered giving him had gone. It also didn’t help that Daniel’s lips hadn’t left the crook of your neck while you dug through your clutch, his fingers inching closer to danger with every passing second.

“Lemme see your pockets,” You huffed and shoved your hand into his jeans pocket, causing a loud shriek to slip from his lips.

“You’re just tryin’ to touch my dick!” He shouted, louder than he expected and definitely louder than you accepted as appropriate, even in your drunken stupor, "You can if ya want."

“Shuuuush!” You hissed, trying not to laugh as Daniel gazed up at the ceiling and reached into his back pocket, searching until his eyes lit up with excitement. “Ah-huh!”

“Thank god – now hurry up and fuck me please!” You whisper-yelled, praying for the sweet sound of a door unlocking.

“Alright, ya horn-bag. Give me a sec- ond… Shit!” Daniel paused and looked back at you with wide eyes, “Wrong room.”

You could faintly hear the sound of footsteps behind the large door in front your shocked face. Before you could even muster a response to his mortifying revelation, Daniel had you in his grasp, dragging you down the hallway, panting and hoping he had a plan. He always did.

“Room 1001 – not 1011,” He coughed through his laughter, hovering the keycard over the lock and finally revealing the room we’d left nearly 5 hours ago, “Home sweet home.”

“Shut up,” You mumbled, throwing your arms over his shoulders and jumping into his embrace. Daniel groaned at your sudden burst of energy and hoisted you up on his waist, mouths instantly attached and desperately trying to defy physics.

Your vision was blurry when you pulled away for air, lips still touching, noses knocking and your hands still roaming the expanse of Daniel’s broad shoulders. You could feel him moving you further into the room that was spinning, the ceiling fan still whirring above your head. That was the first thing you saw when you landed on the messy hotel bed and left for dead by Daniel who was chuckling at the foot, watching you lay back in defeat.

“I’m stupidly drunk.” You huffed.

Daniel nodded as you looked up at him through hooded eyes, “So, so drunk.”

“Not that drunk.”

Your pointed finger and wiggling eyebrows told him exactly what you were referring to, lip bite and dark eyes forever selling you out.

“Take off your pants.” You ordered.

Daniel’s grin dropped into a smirk as you propped yourself up on your elbows, encouraging your boyfriend to give you a little show. Tipsy or not, Daniel knew what you wanted and he’d move heaven and earth to give you whatever you asked for. A heat rushed across his chest as he gazed down at you, undressing for him. The silky satin dress slipped off a lot easier than it went on, a detail not going unnoticed by Daniel who was slowly unbuttoning his shirt, moaning at the sight of your white lacy thong that you knew he loved.

“Killing me.”

“You love it, baby.”

“I live for it.”

The banter was hot, if not hotter than the actual sex. Foreplay was your forte but you weren’t in a ‘building a narrative’ kind of mood. It was primitive now – the primal need for a release outweighing the desire to fuck around with each other. That was the kind of fun best saved for the morning. You were already looking forward to that.

“Look how wet I am for you, Danny.”

Daniel growled as he kicked his jeans off, boxer briefs attached as they flung across the room, discarded with his wrinkled linen shirt. He stood for a moment – naked, painfully hard and begging to be touched before crawling up onto the California king. You could feel him throbbing as he brushed up on your inner thigh, legs open and wrapped around his waist in a matter of seconds. Lips attached again, frenziedly needing for more.

“Give it to me.” You pathetically pled.

“I wanna taste first.”

You resented his love for you in that moment. Resented that he wanted to indulge in what you had to offer, when all you wanted was the main course. The sharp huff that slipped from your lips made Daniel chuckle into your inner thigh, sloppy kisses followed by tiny nibbles, undeniably revving you up but also making the pout on your face that much more noticeable.

“You’re sexy even when you’re mad,” He almost slurred, closing the gap between you and his indescribably proficient tongue. Hot breath fanning over what you could only imagine was your glistening pussy. Ready for him to enjoy. Fuck.

“You are a fucking drug. A sweet, delicious drug that'll be the death of me.”

Daniel hummed before flattening his tongue against you, loving eyes locked on yours before your head tilted back, throat barely squeaking out a moan. He lapped and lapped and lapped away at you, paying close attention to the way you curled up when the tip of his nose slipped over your clit, your moan changing in pitch. He was always in heaven devouring you like this, until he was somewhat satisfied. He wasn’t selfish and he knew what you wanted, even if he could’ve stayed like that until the sun came up. Feasting.

“Daniel, please.”

“Full naming me when I just wanna make you feel good is mean, baby.”

Daniel was playing. And you were teasing. He loved hearing you moan his whole name – his mind reeling back to the time you screamed out his full name as you came, subsequently rushing him to his own finish line. Exploding.

“I wanna cum around your cock. That’s all I want,” You sighed and finally opened your eyes, clutching and admiring at the sprinkling of chest hair. Daniel was drunk, but not drunk enough to not realise how lucky he was to have you spread out beneath him, pleading for him to fuck you into another dimension.

“Your wish is my… demand? Command? Your wish is my something,” Daniel couldn’t quite find the saying in the midst of his excitement, and you couldn't hold back the fit of laughter as you threw your head into the pillows.

“Smooth, Ricciardo,” You giggled as you felt his slick tip teasing your hole, fists clenched beside your head and a smirk the size of the equator on his face.

“Well how does it go then, smarty pants?” Daniel nodded his head and gently sank into you, revelling in the feeling of you engulfing every inch he had to give while he watched your eyes roll into the back of your head, waiting for your answer.

“I –” You stammered, adjusting and sucking in a sharp breath, “I have no… No idea, and I don’t… fucking care.”

Daniel chuckled as his wispy curls fell into his eyes, watching you lick your lips and gather yourself. You were blurry in his vision, the alcohol now really pumping through his veins as he gripped your hips in his large hands, palms perspiring and brows following suit. Your fingertips trailed from his chest down to his pelvis, skin hot to the touch and tattoos glistening from sheen of sweat covering his perfect body.

“Fuck me just like that… Oh my god.” You snapped open your lust filled eyes – blazing flames erupting in Daniel’s as they caught yours.

“Feels fuckin’ good, ey.”

It was a rhetorical question but you nodded anyway.

Daniel was huffing and puffing as your lips tried to find his, hands cradling his slacked jaw. Drunken sloppy sex was one of your favourite genres and it’d been a hot minute since you’d found yourselves with the taste of red wine still lingering on your tongues, fucking like animals. He was thrusting hard until he noticed your hand crawl down to where your bodies met, the delicate touch slowing his movements and capturing his undivided attention.

“Oi,” Daniel breathed and sat back on his knees, still warming in your tight pussy. Your eyebrows quirked with intrigue and a small smirk tugged at the corners of your lips as he grabbed your hand and guided it up to his mouth, eyes never leaving yours. Fanning the flames deep inside.

His tongue swiped across your soft fingertips, making sure each one was dripping wet with spit before sliding them back down between your trembling thighs, “Bet that feels better, huh?”

“Mm-hmm. Much better,” You managed to moan out as he wrapped his arm around your lower back and angled your hips up to his cock, watching himself slowly slide in and out while you circled your clit, edging yourself closer with every touch.

Daniel picking up the pace meant he wasn’t far from his high, the tell tale signs were consistent and always a dead giveaway. The flush of red creeping up his neck and veins bulging under his taut skin was the first sign. Filthy words whispered into your ear was the second and grunts vibrating in his chest as his focus was pulled to you and only you were one of the final ones before he couldn’t hold on any longer.

But he never left you high and dry. Not in a million fucking years.

"Right fucking there, Danny!" You shouted, oblivious to your screams almost certainly alerting the neighbouring room. Even if you were conscious of the volume of your voice, you couldn’t have cared less. Your man was putting on a show and you’d be damned if you didn’t make sure he knew how good he was giving it to you.

"I'm right there..."

"Cum all over my cock, beautiful."

You squealed into the pillow you’d been gripping, scrunching your nose at how fucking good he felt filling you to the brim. Daniel eased your thrashing body through the shockwaves, making sure you felt every last writhe of pleasure – every nerve set alight by the fire burning in your stomach as that perfectly tied knot quickly unravelled. He was holding on for dear life, cursing how tight you felt coming around his aching cock.

"I need to see your face, baby. Look at me." 

Daniel’s raspy voice snapped you back to reality as your hips rocked violently against his. That and your blown-out pupils boring into his was enough to send him tumbling over the edge, unloading everything he had and more.

Daniel clutched your shuddering thighs with his searing fingertips as he bucked one, two, three times and placed one of his shaky palms against the hotel wall, trying to catch his breath as he filled you up. Your eyes were lazily shut, slowly regaining some semblance of consciousness and clawing at the skin on Daniel’s abdomen – attempting to soothe him through his high. Selfishly, you were too caught up in your own that you’d forgotten he was even still there. You'd make up for that later.

For now, you were in bliss. Laboured breathing filled the comfortable silence as you searched for one another, floating back down to the real world.

"Come back to me," Daniel teased quietly as a sly grin swept across your face, eyes closed and skin still tingling from his hot touch. He fell beside you and rolled off the bed in search of something, anything to clean up the mess you’d made together.

"I think I've died and gone to heaven," You whispered back, earning a hoarse chuckle in return. Daniel looked like a mirage on a hot summers day when you opened your eyes and watched him exit the en suite, tissue box in hand.

"What a review."

Proudly boasting after sex was a regular occurrence with Daniel and you loved it; encouraged it even. He chucked the tissue away and practically tripped back into bed, still tipsy and feeling the full effects now that he wasn't under your intoxicating spell. At least for now, anyway.

He flicked off the lamp and sent the room into complete darkness before you felt his warm arm snaking around your naked waist, pulling you into his pounding chest. You were exhausted and almost numb from the long night but satisfied above all else. Thirst well and truly quenched.

You could always rely on Danny for that.

click for more of my writing if you're interested.

[biasbuck]

BiAsBuck’s ficrec Fridays

Happy Friday 13th everyone! Oh my gosh, two weeks to go, I'm so excited. Here's another round of the fic I've been reading when not actively losing my mind over all the buzzy promo landing. You can find previous rec lists here.

13 September 2024

the wayward son by @gayhoediaz had me GRIPPED. As the author summarises: 'Eddie misses his son, grows a mustache, pines after his best friend, and becomes a regular at a gay sex club. That last part is either an indulgence or an inevitable, somewhat self-destructive conclusion to several decades worth of compulsory heterosexuality and catholic guilt. Don’t ask him which.' The result of this is a scorchingly hot voyeuristic thrill ride with an absolutely aching emotional heart along as a passenger. I felt so much for Eddie as he self destructed and built himself back up again, truly throwing himself in at the deep end, and then Buck there to catch him when he falls. This fic gave me every emotion and was so incredibly satisfying. I already know it's gonna be one to go back to time and again.

had a feeling i could be someone by @butchdiaz of course I had to include the butch dyke Hotshots on XYZ inspired Eddie contemplating shaving her head fic. This one resonated with me so much, and was such a lovely take on the themes we're seeing in personhood and self actualisation and ownership of image versus what your parents intended for you. I love this character study of Eddie reclaiming her butch identity and expression, and Buck's sweet support in her journey. Make sure to check out the gorgeous fanart by @iinryer it was inspired by and it inspired if you haven't already seen it!

whatever you like by @clytemnestraaa 'hello mr performance anxiety meet mr desperate to please' sums it up perfectly. In which established relationship Eddie and Buck are having sex, but they still need to work on their communication. Buck wants to know what Eddie likes in order to give him that experience, but that's easier said than done when you're not really sure what exactly it is you want, or how to go about it. I really loved this exploration of a misalignment in sexual experience, the resulting cross purpose conversation, and the non-judgemental openhearted hand extended in order to find your way together. Or 'two 30-something men inexplicably put through an episode of Sex Education.' Sympathetic, sweet, and funny too.

But God, I love the English by @starlingbite this au tickled me for the sole reason of having watched several seasons of the show before someone told me Oliver is from London, and not having picked up on that accent slippage despite ALSO BEING FROM LONDON. Chimney and a British Buck take part in a six week cultural exchange programme with Chim going to London to stay with Maddie and work at a fire station, whilst Buck joins the 118 in LA. Eddie is instantly besotted by the handsome stranger, and fun linguistic hijinks aside, Buck fits right in. How will they manage long distance when it's time for him to go home? So much fun, and with sweet background Madney too!

it's leading me on, every time we touch by @bisexualbellamyblake in which after Eddie mentions to the team that he's having a little back trouble, Maddie lets slip that Buck once trained to be a massage therapist during his career jumping youth! As an almost certified professional of course it wouldn't be like Buck to not offer his services. And Eddie has no reason to turn him down. Does he? This oozed with sexual tension, whilst also being really lovely moment of friends getting to know each other better. Really excellent character voice and internal dialogue from Eddie.

all of the girls you loved before by @wildehacked back again with yet another banger...literally. Let me tell you, I read this one on public transport and had to school my expression with all my decades of fic reading experience in full force. Dragged out to team drinks on their evening off, the tipsy conversation turns to the team's top sexual experiences. When Buck finds out Eddie's is from years before, he can't help but dwell on just exactly how he could fix that. And he finds narrowing down his own top five a little tricky. With flashback cameos from Abby, Taylor and Tommy, this 5+1 fic was hot as hell.

P.S. Insert plea for Madney and Henren friendship/extended family fic here...I think I'm gonna need it! As usual feel free to self rec! And please share and reblog :) See you next week.

[chelseachilly]

serenity

pairing: reader x ben chilwell a/n: just a quick little fic bc i needed to write something after ben's photo dump yesterday lol, and to get the writing juices flowing after way too long! i have a much longer fic that's almost done which i can't wait to share with you all soon 🤍 warnings: none, just fluff! word count: 1k

-

benchilwell via stories

yourusername via stories

You’re not sure if you’ve ever been so content as you are right now.

You’ve always loved summer holidays, but never more than since you started dating Ben. He’s so busy throughout the year that you often get very little time together, so when the season ends, you’re more than ready for some uninterrupted relaxation with your boyfriend. 

You know it’s bittersweet this year, as you were both hoping that Ben would make the Euros squad after a somewhat disappointing season and more injuries. You truly believe he deserved to be there, but you’ve decided there’s no point in dwelling on what could’ve been. So despite the letdown of Ben missing out on another major tournament, you’ve both made the most of your holiday so far.

After he went to the F1 in Monaco with the boys, you met up with him and a few of his mates in the Caribbean for the week. You’re all staying at a gorgeous private villa that took your breath away when you first saw it. It’s now your last night here before Ben flies to Marrakech for some time with his family and you have to go back to London for work, which you’re absolutely dreading after the most perfect week with him. 

You’re currently curled up with Ben on a lounge chair, just the two of you alone on the gorgeous terrace with an infinity pool overlooking the ocean. The sun is setting, and you’ve never felt more at peace. 

“I don’t wanna leave this place,” you sigh, burying your face in his neck. 

After a long day of swimming and snorkelling off the boat provided by the villa, you’re both tired and enjoying the tranquility of this moment. The rest of your group is inside watching the day’s Euros highlights, and you know Ben would’ve done the same and ended up lost in his own bad thoughts if you let him. Instead, you grabbed him by the hand after dinner and dragged him out here, receiving no complaints from him as you laid down almost completely on top of him with your legs intertwined and your arm around his waist.

“I don’t want you to leave,” Ben counters, and you know what argument he’s going to make. “Come with me to Morocco. Alex and my mum would love it if you came.”

“Babe, you know I would if I could,” you tell him sincerely. “But I can’t take any more time off right now. I’m sorry.”

Ben already knows this, so he doesn’t argue you further, though you know he wants to. He just tugs you slightly closer to him and drops a kiss to the crown of your head. 

“Promise you’ll call me every day, though? I want to live vicariously through you while I’m back to the boring office life,” you murmur, your cheek pressed to his chest. 

What you really mean is that you want to check in on him every day, to make sure he’s not going down the rabbit hole of regret and self-loathing like he has in the past. You hate that you can’t be there with him in person for the entire summer break, but you’ll be damned if you don’t do everything in your power to make sure he’s okay, even from afar. 

“I will,” Ben agrees, slipping his hand under the t-shirt of his that you’re wearing and gently rubbing the skin of your lower back. “You don’t have to worry about me, baby.”

You know he can see it in your furrowed brow when someone talks about football and your overly clingy behaviour this week that you’re concerned about him.

“I love you too much to not worry, Ben,” you say, a slight shiver running up your spine as he continues to caress your skin. 

“I know,” Ben says with another kiss to your head. “And that’s why I’m the luckiest man alive. But I swear I’m okay. It was a bit tough to take at first, but I can’t really complain when I’m in paradise with my best mates and my girl.”

“I’m glad you’ve had a good holiday, you deserve it,” you smile. “What was your favourite bit?”

“Hmm…convincing Tom we saw a shark while we were swimming today was up there,” he chuckles, making you laugh as remember the sheer look of terror on your friend’s face. “I think he might’ve pissed himself.”

“I think he’s still mad at us,” you laugh. “Worth it, though.”

“But mostly just being here with you,” Ben says softly, running a hand through your hair as you pull back and rest your head on his chest to look at him properly. “I love you so much, Y/N.”

You cup his face with one hand, running your thumb across the beard he’s grown out a bit and staring into his eyes. There’s a stunning view of the sun setting over the shimmering blue sea just to your right, but you think you prefer this one. 

“I love you, too.”

Ben smiles before leaning in and kissing you, your lips meeting gently. It’s a slow, drawn-out kiss, neither of you wanting this moment to end. 

“We should go inside and pack,” you mutter when you pull away, painfully aware of your early flight tomorrow. 

“In a few minutes,” Ben says, wrapping his arms around you completely and pulling you back into his chest. “Let’s enjoy this a little while longer.”

You allow yourself to relax into his embrace, humming in contentment as he continues to stroke your hair. 

Your real life and responsibilities may be awaiting you back in London, but for tonight, you’re going to soak up every last second of this serenity with your boyfriend.

yourusername

liked by benchilwell, masonmount and others yourusername Perfect week, missing this place (and this boy) already 🤍🌴 view all comments benchilwell Love you ❤️ sophiaaemelia looks like paradise! miss you 🫶🏼

benchilwell

liked by yourusername, madders and others benchilwell Serenity. view all comments yourusername 😍🥰❤️ masonmount Love it mate!

-

a/n: please let me know if you liked this, all comments/feedback appreciated 😊

[zeezelweazel]

Chloe Kelly| New year, new me|

______________________________________

Happy new year babes!

(I spend fuve hours on Pinterest trying to find that pic omg)

I'm almost at 1k followers and I have no idea what I should do about it 💀

____________________________________________________

You and Chloe decided to spent the holidays with her family and even though it wasn't the first time you two spent the holidays together, somehow this time was special. You loved Chloe's family and they loved you. It was always fun spending time with them but especially during the holidays. Chloe's mom was an exceptional cook and every single dish on the table was to die for.

After everyone arrived the house was very busy. A flurry of kids screaming and chasing eachother around the house, the dogs barking and playing with eachother, different family members engaging in conversation.

You were sitting on the couch in Chloe's arms, the blonde running soft circles on your back while some other family members shared their childhood stories. After one of Chloe's cousins finished his story you turned your eyes to her father who was sitting comfortably on his armchair. You glanced up at your girlfriend and the blonde immediately recognised the mischievous swirl in your eyes. When you looked back to her father you grinned.

"Got any embarrassing stories about little Chloe?"

You heard the family laugh at your question and Chloe groaned, definitely not excited with the direction this conversation was headed to. You sat up excited and Chloe's cheeks flushed red as she pouted like a child. You resisted the urge to press kisses on her face, she looked absolutely adorable like this.

"Well there was that one time, when she..."

You listened to the older man in glee, absolutely delighted with the new blackmail material you were gathering. Chloe herself gave up on sulking about it halfway through the story. Instead the winger focused on you and how stunning you looked. Her chest was warm and her heart fluttered, there's nothing she loves more than seeing you be happy with her family. By the time her father had finished the utterly embarrassing story about her, it was almost time for the count down. The tv was on and the entire family was gathered in the living room where you waited patiently for the new year.

You chose to spent the last few moments of 2023 looking at your girlfriend's beautiful blue eyes. You caressed her face, slowly rubbing your thumb across her cheek, your heart skipping a beat when Chloe leaned into the gentle touch. She brought one of her hands up to your shoulders and the other to the back of your neck where she softly scratched your skin with her nails. You were lost in eachother, not taking notice of anything or anyone in the room.

"I love you so much."

"I love you too baby, more than anything."

What finally dragged you back to the present was the loud noise of everyone clapping their hands in rhythm with the big numbers on the screen. As you watched the time run out you were overwhelmed with the rush of memories of the previous year.

10

9

8

Chloe's bright laughter was the only thing that you could hear with the all that water in your ears. You shook your head trying to get the water out and the blonde inched closer still giggling, whipping the droplets from your eyelids so you can open your eyes. When you did you were met with her warm gaze, the sun illuminating her skin making her hair shine. She looked so beautiful, you felt butterflies dance in your stomach. You grabbed her waist and pulled her in for a soft but passionate kiss.

7

6

5

You looked up at the sky, thousands of snowflakes falling on the ground. Christmas was near and the holiday season made Manchester even prettier than it already is, the heavy snow painting everything white. Chloe's hand felt warm from where your hands were tightly interlinked. You were both quiet but it was a comforting silence, one that let you simply enjoy the moment. "I love you." The words left your lips before you could even think about it, but you didn't need to, her soft lips whisked every thought away.

4

3

2

Your eyes welled with tears of happiness, absolutely overwhelmed with emotions. You looked at the blonde, who was in a similar state and resisted the urge to laugh at how in tune you two were. Instead you grinned waiting for the big moment of the countdown.

1

The next second fireworks blew in the sky, cheers and laughter erupted in the room alongside a bunch of "happy new year!" but the only thing you could focus on was Chloe's lips, the slow push and pull of your lips moving in tandem against eachother. When you finally pulled back you were both slightly out of breath, eyes firmly locked together.

"Happy new year babe."

You smiled and pulled her in a hug softly kissing the top of her head.

"Happy new year, love."

It was all celebrations from there on, the children went to bed and the pets were too tired to keep playing around so only the adults of the family were left, drinking champagne and wine. You were in conversation with Chloe's mom until the blonde grabbed your arm suddenly. You turned to look at her surprised, only to find mischief looking back at you. You were about to open your mouth to question her when she voiced her own idea.

"Wanna hard launch?"

You and Chloe have been dating for years now but you've dine well to keep your relationship under wraps. Obviously there was baseless shipping from the fans but no one could actually say that you guys are together. Her question shocked you because Chloe herself is the reason why this relationship isn't public. The blonde hasn't come out publicly even though her inner circle knows. You're not sure if it's the alcohol talking, because you haven't had a conversation about announcing your relationship for quite a while. Your hesitation must've slipped into your expression because Chloe was frowning now.

"I mean if you don't want to-"

"I do! I just... I thought you weren't ready."

Chloe pulls you in a side hug and grins before shrugging her shoulders.

"It's a new year, time for change right?"

yourinstagramuser

Liked by leahwilliamsonn and 107,773 others

yourinstagramuser happy new year to everyone, hopefully another happy year with my love @chloekelly

View all 892 comments

chloekelly my love 🩵🥰

↑ yourinstagramuser babyyy 😍❤️

lauren_hemp so sweet

lj10 finallyyyy I've been waiting for this one

fan1 the hard launch??? Hello??

fan2 I knew I wasn't delusional 😭

fan3 look at my parents you guys, aren't they the cutest

____________________________________________________

[g-xix]

Christmas Imagines! | George Clarkey

-Waking up 1st December and deciding that it's time to get the Christmas decorations out.

-You wake George up and whilst he's still huffing and grumbling you make two coffees because you are absolutely BUZZING for the day to begin and want the energy to absolutely power through the day

-George comes downstairs in grey sweats and a beige jumper n u literally have to drag him back upstairs and wrestle the beige off to replace it with a seasonal sweater

-At least after having his coffee he seemed a bit more excited to start the Christmas decorations, asking whether you'd be interested in putting up a snowman with him, made entirely from fake snow just to confuse everyone as to how we had a snowman whilst it hadn't snowed since last year. -He was met with a surprising yes-but-only-if-we-also-make-him-look-like-frosty

-The two of you got to work on the lights firstly though, wrapping fairy lights around the balcony and over every surface in the house which blue-tack could hold it against

-George came back from the junk-room (you'd both assigned a space for just putting random crap in and donned it the "junk room") after fifteen or so minutes holding what looked like a white and red sack. He caught your surprised look but just grinned and attached a connected plug to the wall and said "Just watch this-"

-Five minutes later there was a giant inflatable Santa and snowman in your living room

-The Santa inflatable was also too big for the apartment and thus his head was awkwardly squished up against the roof

-George was proud of it nonetheless.

"Wanna make snowflakes?" You asked after the first break of the day.

"What do you mean?" George asked, brows pinched together in confusion yet eyes wide in interest.

"You know, fold the paper in half then half again and cut them out...?" Your explanation was met with an unchanged, blank look which made you gasp at his obliviousness. "Don't tell me you never did that as a kid?!"

"Have I missed out on something?"

"YES! But no- it's never too late, c'mon, let's do it now-"

-For the next two hours, yourself and George were sat cross legged on the floor folding over your pieces of paper to cut circles out, before cutting more random holes into those to make yourself snowflakes

-You glanced up every so often before looking back down with a warm, glowing smile, having caught a glimpse of George's tongue stuck out whilst he concentrated on making his snowflakes nice and even. Too cute.

-You tried to suspend the paper creations from the ceiling with a piece of string but couldn't reach the ceiling, and just banged your hand when you tried to jump 

-George refused to help the first time you asked for him to just do it... Instead, he held up the phone and recorded you trying to drag a cardboard box over to stand on

-He also burst out laughing as you stepped on it and fell through the box the moment you took your other foot off of the ground, collapsing in a cardboard-heap on the floor which has George genuinely wheezing

"George, at least give me a hand you prat- this is all your fault!" You groaned and rubbed your lower back which had taken the weight of the fall. 

After wiping his tears, George found the kindness within him to extend a hand for you to pull yourself up with. You slapped your palm into his and gripped it with your fingers- pulling yourself up? No; why would you take the cowards way out?

Instead, George fell down with a shriek also- landing on the cardboard box besides you and crumpling to the floor- allowing you your turn to laugh at George's suffering. Like a broken man, he lay groaning atop the cardboard, making tears begin forming at the corners of your eyes with the way he looked so berefted of his prior superiority.

"NO!" George made you let out a shriek as his arms snaked around your waist, preventing you from getting up to grab your phone from the table and snap a picture of him. Rather, you toppled backwards (phone in hand) and landed against George's chest, wiggling and laughing through cries as you told George to "GET OFF!" as his arms held you tightly against his chest, confining you in prison and rendering you unable to take blackmail photos of him.

"NEVER!" He shout-replied, the feeling of his chest vibrating against your back with his words soothing and healing the inner child as you heard the grin in his voice despite all the chaos.

In the end, a truce was called and George removed his arms to allow you to wiggle yourself so that your chest was against his- eyes level with his own as you leaned in and met your smiling lips in a sweet, chaste kiss, only pulling away when you found yourself too unable to form your lips into a kiss from how hard you were grinning.

-By about five o'clock it had already gotten dark and the two of you had broken backs and plans to leave the Christmas tree for the following weekend

-A fireplace with great orange flames danced and licked the coals on the television, the screensaver a mere echo of the warmth you of the Christmas spirit that was exuded from the apartment

-A well deserved lie-down break was taken. Half an hour of lethargic lying down and napping or scrolling through your phone on the bed, together... 

-Whilst George scrolled through TikTok, you rest your head on his body which he humfh-ed at, but threaded a hand through your hair nonetheless, massaging your scalp as you closed your eyes and just let your head lie heavy against his squidge, rocking up and down with each deep breath he took...

-Until you started getting hungry and realised you hadn't eaten til breakfast

-Of course, you could've made an easy and filling meal for dinner, like some pasta or rice... But something about all the Christmas glamour of the day rendered you unable to fixate on anything apart from baking some festive Christmas cookies. 

"I'll get a recipe up- why are you looking at me like that." George dropped his phone down as you shot him a disgusted look.

"It's bloody sugar cookies we're making here, George, you don't need a recipe for that... Just add the ingredients 'til it feels like enough."

"What if you go over...?"

"Then you've got shitty sugar cookies- big deal!?"

George sighed yet let you continue pulling out the flour, eggs, sugar and allsorts from the pantry and fridge.

"You wanna see my party trick?" You looked up from the bowl with a grin,watching as George had degenerated to spinning the kettle. He nodded eagerly, however, coming towards you like a lost puppy and looking down to the bowl- waiting to see something happen.

The sense was knocked out of him, however, as you used his forehead as a surface to crack your egg, before splitting the gooey insides into the bowl with a giggle, turning back to a dazed George who weakly touched his forehead.

"C'mon, it wasn't that hard..." George didn't respond, too busy trying to feel for a lump from the collision against his forehead. "Oh bloody hell, what do you want- kisses to make it better?"

George threw a disgusted look, eliciting a snort from you as you saw it. 

"You wanna beat the eggs for me?"

"Not really."

"Oh please George, I wanna see those arms in action- why go gym every week and get such big sexy arms if you're not even gonna use them to-"

"Okay fine I get the point, I'll do it just so long as you... Stop.... Please."

It was laughable how awkwardly complimenting George could make him do practically anything for you. You knew that he had a love-hate relationship with compliments- on the one hand, always trying to brush them under the rug because they were JUST so awkward... and yet he also loved knowing that he was seen. You'd found the balance on how you could show your boyfriend love everything which you saw in him without smothering him and maybe that was why you two worked so well; alternately, you hated bullshitters, and he only ever gave a compliment if he really, genuinely saw something jaw-dropping.

"This good?" George looked up to ask whether the eggs looked mixed enough. They most certainly did- though you debated telling him that they weren't just to see his triceps in action for longer. 

Damn he has nice muscles, you thought. Even if he was your boyfriend, you'd never stop realising just how good-looking your boyfriend was, every day you spent with him. 

"Yep, that's good. Just some sugar now." 

You gave the instructions and let George do the manual labour, simply watching and giving the occasional input. It was so warm in the kitchen- the preheated oven serving as a delicious radiator and warming your fluffy-pyjama-covered body. Your legs dangled from the countertop as you sat besides the mixing bowl, resisting the urges to dip your finger into the vanilla mix that smelled all too good that it was almost a relief when George inhibited the temptation by shoving the tray of cookie mix into the oven

"Fifteen minutes," He contentedly sighed, slinging a tea towel over his shoulder and wiping his hands. He looked so domestic and wife-y in that moment. You felt yourself grinning uncontrollably at the sweet thought. "What, what are you smiling at...?"

"Nothing," You looked down and tried to shake off your grin to no avail.

"C'mon, I feel like it's something interesting..."

"It's nothing, really, Georgie..."

"Oh yeah?" He rested his arms on either side of your legs on the counter, leaning his weight below you and looking up with two big, indigo eyes which crinkled in the corners as a smile of his own stretched across his face.

"Yeah," You agreed contentedly. "I just love you, Georgie."

He let out a breath of laughter. "I love you too, my lovely." 

You felt privileged in his arms- munching your iced and decorated sugar cookies and watching the first Christmas film of the year snug against his fluffy hoodie. 

"Hey, Georgie?" You whispered, the baileys and cookies leaving you warm in the stomach and heavy on the eyelids.

"Mhm?" He looked down, running a gentle hand through your locks which were across his lap as you rest your head on his thigh. 

"I can't wait to spend Christmas with you."

"Me neither, lovely, me neither."

"Are we going up to yours for Christmas?"

"Yep, and you can meet my sister and my family- and the dog of course... Then boxing day we go over to yours..."

"Yeah, so you can meet my Mum and Dad..."

"I can't wait... Really, genuinely."

You couldn't muster up a reply, all too low on energy, so instead you settled for pressing a kiss against George's thigh which you rest your head on, basking in the headpats which he delivered and cuddling up to his bodily warmth as you felt yourself slipping away and falling asleep in the arms of your no1 boyfriend.

-----

I know the bitches have been PRAYING on some George Clarkey content so here we go! Let the Christmas oneshots begin asw lol, hope you enjoyed the festive content bc spoiler asw, i have more G Clarkey Xmas oneshots 'round the corner!

Hope you enjoyed reading!! Feel free to interact- whether that be a comment, vote or follow! Requests open, feel free to submit what u wanna see... Much love!!

To see more, here's my MASTERLIST

And here's my WATTPAD, with 50+ more oneshots to read

[iamwhoami]

Babysitting 101

Chicago Med

You and Connor babysit Owen so that Will and Natalie can still have their date night after the babysitter calls in sick.

Warnings: None

Requested = Yes

Y/L/N = Your Last Name

"Nice job back there Dr. Y/L/N," Connor smiled at you.

The two of you had just finished a relatively easy surgery and had returned to the ED to help with the backlog of patients. Between the icy roads and flu season, they could use all the help they could get in there.

"You weren't too shabby either Dr. Rhodes," You shot back and Connor smirked.

"Quit flirting over there lovebirds," Maggie called out, "Y/N you're needed in Treatment 2. Connor, we have an incoming five minutes out, you're going to Baghdad."

"I'll see you after shift then?" Connor quirked an eyebrow and you nodded.

"You bet."

~~~

The rest of your day flew by without any sight of your boyfriend. You were so busy, constantly rushing from one room to next in an attempt to catch up with the schedule.

By the end of your shift, you were absolutely exhausted and wanted nothing more than to open a bottle of wine and put on your favourite movie while snuggling Connor on the couch.

It was that thought that managed to keep you on your feet.

"I am ready to call it a night," You breathed out while you gathered your items, "I don't know if my feet could stand a moment longer."

"Well, they're going to need to find some juice if you want to get to your car," Maggie joked.

You laughed, "Not if I can convince Connor to carry me there."

"I don't think you'd have any trouble," Maggie said and shook her head, "That man is whipped for you..."

You both chuckled at that but you both also knew it was true. Connor would fly to the moon for you.

"Well, have a good night Y/N," Maggie said and left, leaving you to wait for Connor alone.

You quietly waited on the couch for Connor to finish up his last surgery of the day. Nurses and doctors bustled in and out of the lounge and you wished each and every one of them a good night. You were mostly just on your phone, not actively engaging in any other conversation when you overheard your friend Natalie speaking.

"Sorry Will," She was saying, "The nanny just texted. She can't stay later tonight, something with her sister came up."

"Don't worry about it," Will responded, "I'll cancel the reservation then."

You spoke before you could really think things through, "I can watch Owen!"

When your sudden outburst was met with confused silence, you flushed and fumbled with your words.

"I wasn't eavesdropping, I just overheard," You mumbled quickly, "But seriously if you guys need someone to watch Owen, Connor and I can totally do it."

"Connor won't mind?" Natalie asked and you shook your head.

You and Connor hadn't really talked about kids but this wasn't anything like that. All you had to do was look after a toddler for a few hours. How hard could that be?

"We don't have anything better to do tonight anyway," You told them, "In fact, I think it'll be really fun!"

Natalie chuckled at your enthusiasm, "Well I can assure you that it won't be dull."

"Exactly," You pointed your finger at her, "You and Will go on your date. Do. Not. Cancel. Connor and I will watch Owen."

Will and Natalie took a moment to look at each other as if they were contemplating your offer. Finally, Natalie turned back to face you and nodded.

"Thank you Y/N," Natalie said genuinely, "I owe you one."

You shook your head though, "Nah...you don't owe me anything. I'm just glad I can help."

It was decided that Natalie and Will would go and get ready for their date and that they would drop off Owen when you and Connor were back at your apartment. You figured that you should give Connor a heads up but he was still in surgery and you weren't going to disturb him because he was suddenly on babysitting duty afterwards.

He'd get over it.

About ten minutes later, a tired-looking Connor walked into the doctor's lounge and the deepest part of your gut felt bad that you had dragged him into babysitting Owen after a long shift. That guilt caused you to just stare at your boyfriend for a solid minute before he pointed it out.

"What did you do," Connor demanded teasingly as he turned to face you.

You quickly snapped out of your trance, "Nothing!"

"Uh-huh..." Connor raised an eyebrow, "I know that look Y/N."

You feigned offence, "I don't know what you're talking about."

Connor only continued to stare at you and after a while, you finally caved.

"Okay fine," You sighed. "You have to promise that you won't get mad."

Connor nodded, "Okay..."

"I..." You squeezed your eyes shut before opening them again. "I kind of volunteered us to babysit Owen while Nat and Will go on a date."

Silence.

“So…” You stared at Connor, “Thoughts?”

Connor raised an eyebrow, “You voluntarily agreed to look after a toddler…after working a 12 hour shift…”

“Correct.”

The two of you stood there, staring at each other, unmoving. After a hot second, Connor let out a slightly exasperated sigh and ran a hand through his hair.

“Alrighty then, I suppose we should get going then,” Connor gave you a small smile, “wouldn’t want to keep Nat and Will waiting now would we?”

~~~ Perhaps you had underestimated how exhausting looking after a toddler could be.

No, you definitely had.

Dinner had been tiring enough. Somehow more food had gotten on you and Connor than into Owen's stomach.

"You've got a little something there," Connor teased and wiped mashed potato off your eyebrows.

You laughed, "What? Are you sure it's not my new makeup?"

Game after game. Activity after activity. It just didn't end, and yet somehow, it was you and Connor that were tired out, not Owen.

"Y/N!" Owen's little voice gleefully called out. "Come play!"

You huffed but smiled big for the little boy before pushing yourself onto your feet.

Connor couldn't help but chuckle, "Are you having some regrets right about now?"

"Pfttt, never," You shook your head as you sat yourself down on the ground next to Owen. "Right buddy? We're having a blast?"

Connor smiled at you affectionately. He couldn't deny that he was tired but he also had zero regrets. You were so good with Owen. The way you spoke to him. The way you naturally were so attuned to his needs. The way you understood his toddler language.

It took about another hour before Owen's energy began to wane. After a ten minute chase around the apartment, you had managed to wrangle Owen into his pajamas and Connor convinced him to brush his teeth.

Another twenty minutes later and Owen was passed out in bed and you and Connor collapsed on the couch.

"I'm not sure which was more exhausting," Connor joked. "Our twelve hour shift or this."

You teased, "Did a toddler outdo you?"

"Absolutely," Connor shook his head. "I was absolutely outdone by a toddler."

Laughing, you leaned against Connor who wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you closer to his chest.

"You're really good with him you know," Connor softly said.

You hummed, "You weren't so bad yourself."

"Maybe we should babysit more often," Connor added and you scoffed.

"I think we need a few weeks to recover before making any big decisions."

[theblueflower05]

You Get Me So High

Drabble in the First Love/Late Spring series

A/N: A little bit of a filler- I just wanted an excuse to fit this little scene into this story. It didn't fit in the last part but I loved it too much to let it go.

Word Count: 2k+

Warnings: FLUFF(I know we’re all surprised, but I need a break from the angst) Minors can interact with this one. PG-13 forsure.

Summary: You unearth a gift that you forgot to give your mate. A small peek into You and Neteyam’s slow mornings. Domestic bliss and herbal tea flavored kisses. Neteyam x Reader

If you want to catch up on how we got here, here's the Series Masterlist

Previous&lt;: Bottom of the Deep Blue Sea

The morning eclipse washes over Awa’atlu, drenching it in the striking colors of the peaking sun. The sea glitters, awake before the village. Never ceasing its constant, rhythmic movement even as the people still lay dormant, tucked in tight with their loved ones.

Your status in the clan and the duties that came with it had always forced you into being an early riser, though there is nothing you loved more than digging yourself deep into your bed and slumbering for as long as possible.

You loved being comfy, feeling safe. Got stuck in behind your eyelids, in that hazy peace that only moments before the dawn could bring. Many times Ronal had dragged you from the family Mauri, huffing about the late hour and fretting with your unruly hair.

You don't wake to the hustle and bustle of your childhood home anymore.

It had been that way for the past month or so. Fertility Season had come and gone, and you and Neteyam had spent the time after adjusting to the new normal.

Both of you had grown up in loud, full homes. Surrounded by family, never a moment of quiet to be found. The still silence in your shared Mauri had been a bit unnerving at first. It was just the two of you in these walls after all.

Now though, you craved these moments. They felt private and sacred as you and Neteyam prepared for the day, for the long hours usually chalked full of duties that would keep you busy and separated.

Your mate is a man of routine, you’d picked up on the fact quickly.

He woke as soon as light begin to dance in the many sun catchers and wind chimes that littered the entrance to your Pod. Once the Fkio(birds,gulls) began to squall, he was rising. Gently untangling his limbs from your own and hurrying over to the firepit to bring it back to life.

He’d open all of the blinds to let the air in, the salty ocean breeze filling the space with a freshness that could only come with a new day.

Then comes washing up, changing into a clean tweng and re-adorning all of his jewelry, leaving the intricate battle band and layered choker for last. He liked it when you helped him fasten all of those hard-to-reach ties.

He brews strong tea in the clay pot that his mom had passed down to him. It reminds him of the ones that his grandmother had kept in her hut. Extremely detailed, crafted by an Omaticaya Ceramist. Jade green in color, jungle flowers etched into its sides.

Neteyam lets you get your fill of slumber. Enjoys watching you as you doze, curled up on the bed mat. Your features loose and lost to dreams, occasionally tensing with off scrunches or your nose or twitches of your ears. It’s only when the sun reaches a certain place in the sky that he goes to wake you. Knowing he can wait no longer before you’re late.

You love to sleep, but you absolutely hate being late.

His difficult little munxtate(wife).

He’s so gentle, every time.

Rousing you with soft touches and hums right into your skin. Even before you’re fully coherent you reach for him, greedy fingers. Pursed lips.

The piping hot tea is energizing, you nurse your cup as you go through your own little patterns.

Neteyam knows, now, that you are not particularly chatty until you’ve fully woken up. He doesn't mind the comfortable quiet, busies himself with cleaning his riding gear, readying for a day of patrolling and hunting.

You prepare a quick breakfast before bathing and dressing. Easily clocking the way Neteyam’s amber gaze fixes on your hips when you shimmy into your skirt. Reach behind yourself to twine the strings around your tail. Heat blooms across your cheeks, it’s too early for him to look at you like that. He grins when you roll your eyes and mutter something that sounds a lot like “insatiable skxawng”

The two of you have been working on getting everything organized, and the Mauri is finally coming together. Homey and colorful, filled with little trinkets and pieces of both of your cultures. You were still working on cataloging your wardrobe, untangling the many dangling tops and layered necklaces- it was a pain and you really needed to make time to get it done.

So focused on getting your herbs straightened, prioritizing assisting your heavily pregnant Aunt with healer’s errands that you’d honestly put it off.

It’s your own fault that you need to untangle the top you want to wear from various other pieces of jewelry. You can't be frustrated with anyone but yourself, you fingers work at the knots until you free the article of clothing.

You’re working the crocheted straps over your shoulders when it catches your eye.

Gleams in a beam of sunlight that streams in from the opened windows.

A low gasp escapes you as you reach for it fast.

Between the emotional chaos that had come with the misunderstanding between yourself, Neteyam and Seychelle and then haze of Fertility Season, you’d forgotten.

In the quick paced move into the new Mauri- it had been lost, buried in the messy overfilled baskets of your belongings.

It’s the armband that you’d made for Neteyam.

You enjoy making jewelry, liked the way it kept your hands from being idle. Could string delicate shells into a multitude of necklaces and bracelets and hairpieces that made good gifts for family and friends. There were villagers with more talent than you at the craft, sure, but you thought your creations were pretty enough.

This particular piece had given you a run for your money.

You'd wanted to make something that would remind him of home but the jewelry that the Sully’s wore were extremely intricate, daunting to even look at. The Omiticaya are known for their weaving skills after all.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You’d enlisted the youngest Sully to help you, a bit too shy to share the planned project with anyone else. Tuk loved crafting, frequently giving her creations to any and everyone. She had been thrilled when you approached her, practically shaking with excitement when you promised to take her out to the distant sandbars by Ilu back in exchange for her help.

Omiticayan patterns are hard to master, complex and layered. Leather isn't a medium you usually worked with and your fingers had felt clumsy as you’d attempted the multi strand braiding.

Tuk is patient and friendly. A brilliant teacher even at her young age. She’d spent hours tucked away on that private beach with you. Chattering excitedly as you began to pick it up and the band starts to take shape.

“Who’re you making it for?” She’d questioned, pressing in that innocent, instant way that only a child could “I don't see anyone here wear jewelry like this, it's all so different from back home”

“Just for a friend” You’d paused for a moment, staring down at your slow working fingers. “I think these designs are beautiful, you’ll have to help me make more. I want an anklet just like yours”

She’d beamed, happy to show off the dangling jewels on her feet. She’d made it herself! She could make you one to match, easy!

Only when the horns had sounded, dinner going to start soon, did the two of you gather your belongings and head back in. Tuk had told her parents she would be with you, Jake and Neytiri had deemed you responsible enough to get her back safely. You wouldn't disappoint.

“I hope your friend likes it, Y/N! See ya tomorrow! Don’t be late- you promised we’d race to the sandbar! You can't go back on a promise!” She’d called to you as you’d reached the village, running off in a flurry. Energetic as ever.

“I would never! Get ready to lose, Tuktirey!”

Her twinkling laugh all the response she’d given you.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You’d worked so hard on the band. Meticulously incorporated pieces of shells into the leather. Turquoise, carnelian and topaz toned, to match the beads of Neteyam's choker. The shells were hard to find, but you’d scoured the shore for days, discarding the ones that weren't the right color.

A large blush colored pearl hangs from the center, the patterns of the banding circling it in delicate loops.

You run your fingers over it, recalling how much hard work you’d put into it. How many hours you’d spend having to undo and we braid the patterns-

You plop down next to your mate, near the fire. Legs criss crossed neatly and an eager smile on your face. Clutching something hidden in your fist.

“What?” Neteyam wonders as he eats his breakfast. He’d quickly become fond of the milky sweet rice and fruit that you made in the mornings, he shovels it eagerly into his mouth every time.

“I have a present for you”

That was the last thing he was expecting to hear. His eyebrows raise and his tail flicks, interested, behind him.

“Really?” he speaks with his mouth still full. He’s endearing, even when he’s gross.

“Yes, I am very late. I meant to give it to you long ago. But with the move and everything else it got lost. So lost, you’ve seen the chest where I keep my clothing. It really is a mess” you wave your free hand in the air, gesturing almost wildly as you ramble”- ugh. I forgot, I truly did”

He waits patiently throughout your little special, a small smile on his lips.

“You didn't need to get me anything…” he says, but you can see the concealed intrigue in his eyes. Dare you say it was excitement?

You're a bit nervous as you open your hand, revealing the contents inside, resting against your palm. Holding it out to him in offering. “I wanted to. Here, I really hope you like it”

Neteyam takes the armband between his thin fingers, brings it close to his face to inspect it. The whole time your heart races wildly and you stare at him for any inclination that he might not like it-

“Did you make this?”

“I did” you nod.

“But it’s- it’s Omiticayan design? How did you do this?”

“Oh, I know. It’s why it’s a little bit rough- I’d never made anything like it before. But Tuk was tons of help! She pretty much walked me through it all. We did it months ago but like I told you, I misplaced it”

Neteyam continues to stare at it, his eyes swimming with emotion. He runs his thumb along the weaved leather, over and over again. “The pearl?..”

“The one you found at the beach, in the clam, remember? You gave it to me but I wanted you to be able to keep it. I wasn't lying when I said they’re good luck when they’re that big”

His eyes go from the gift in his hand, meet yours instead. They’re shining. Happy, clearly and a grin breaks out across your face, able to read the wordless que's.

“Get over here” Neteyam reaches for you, hand cupping your face as he clutches you to him, almost right into his empty lap. Claims your willing lips with his own.

The kisses are smothering, consistent little pecking that makes you gasp. He tastes like creamy rice and sweet Yovo- you can feel his canines as he grin. Your hands tangle into his braids, clutching him right back. Your stomach flip flopping with the sheer joy of it all.

“You like?” you’re muffled by his lips, speak the question into his mouth.

“I” kiss “Love” kiss “It”

He doesn't bother to pull away until he's kissed you stupid. Long and thorough. Your head is spinning and theres butterflies erupting in your chest. Your lips feel a bit raw as you pant and lean against him heavily.

“I can't believe you took the time to do this. You are the sweetest, you know. So sweet to me I don't even know what to do with you” He beams and your heart skips one beat. And then two. His smile is a bright thing, his front teeth just a bit longer then the rest-

You hope your children look like him. You wish you could have seen him as a little one.

You caress his face, knuckling lightly at his cheeks. Watching, your hindbrain lighting up, as he slips the band up his arm until it sits snug around his bulging bicep, secured tight.

It looks so good.

You have the urge to make him endless ornaments. Maybe you'll start something for his hair? You could probably find feathers similar to the ones he wore now...

Everytime you think that you couldn't possibly get any happier, you do. You think that you might float away one day- filled to the brim with all of the buoyant love you have for him.

“Thank you, really Y/N. I-” his voice wavers a bit as your nose rubs against his. You’re content like this, in his lap. Pressed in close with your lover. “I don't know how I lived so many years without you. You bring me joy I didn't know existed”

His words echo your frequent thoughts.

The morning is soft and syrupy slow, like all mornings spent with your mate.

Waking up early did have its perks, after all.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

So Neteyam’s sisters X Y/N are some of my favorite dynamics. I can’t wait to write more Tuk & Kiri.

I got some asks after Part Three and I was like ohhhh no, everyone thinks they’re toxic but they’re really not lol they just need to learn how to not be idiots and communicate with each other.

Can we talk about how Y/N's love language is offering her self up to Neteyam on a silver plate? I'm pretty sure that could be translated to Gift Giving.

I’m thinking about doing a little filler/drabble like this every few chapters as a kind of pallet cleanser? There’s just so much about this world and these characters that I want to share with you all.

Also mango sticky rice is my absolute favorite and I’m a green tea girly. Of course I had to incorporate them somewhere😂

What are some of your favorite things that you’d like to see in this universe? Let me know!

[prideprejudce]

im genuinely curious since i keep seeing this opinion, but i rly dont think hotd writing was bad? nothing is perfect but idk, unless someone points to me the times they had shitty writing im having a hard time seeing it. unless i dont actually know what "writing" means here. english is not my first language, i COULD be misinterpreting things lmao. i rly liked how they did things this season, i think it made sense with the last one, this one was just Tenser because at any second the war will reallyyy break out n we dont know when cuz we have two driving forces from opposite sides not wanting that to happen, thats the entire point of s2 i think: establishing that in war there is no clear winner ("strange victory" n all that), that everyone is going to die, that there is no point to any of it theres no point to war at all, that every character is "heroic" and "villainous" in their own right in the right pov. i think it was a fun season to flesh out the characters, have us not feel entirely happy to be fighting for one side cuz theres innocents in both sides but ultimately we all know they will all die and its all for nothing. thats the tragedy of it all imo. i loved it to pieces. i guess id say im sad some characters didnt interact but also i dont see how they would considering how this season went. n also i wanted more rhaena (i do hope she'll have a cool ass role next season, idc idc)

i personally think this season was truly a transition season to full out war. people are pissed because they wanted war to instantly happen after lucerys died last season, but in reality things arent that black and white and i think it would have cheapened the plot to fast forward through the political negotiations and underhanded scheming to try and win without fighting, to just full on nuclear dragon war.

I actually like the idea that this season was like standing on a cliffs edge where one wrong move led to oblivion with millions of people dying and the practical annihilation of half of house targaryen. I'm glad that the writers took the time to emphasize how dire this war could become before barreling us into it. the political battles and moral dilemmas are just as fun to watch as the actual battles

that being said, there are still valid criticisms of the show being brought up too: like the weird pacing and absolute dragging on of daemons harrenhal ghost adventures. on one hand I get it, because in the books daemon just disappears for weeks at a time, and the writers had to do SOMETHING with him this season instead of having him peace out for 7 episodes. but I agree that the harrenhal visions became repetitive, and I'm also not a huge fan of the back to the future magic being shoved in our faces instead of more subtle clues to it

overall, it was a transition season, not the absolute best season of television history, but it's definitely not the worst (and not even CLOSE to being as bad as got s8). I think in modern age media consumption, people now equate "i personally don't like this" to "this is all horrible and the whole show is trash now"

[steddieasitgoes]

@steddiemas Day 31: New Year's Eve Traditions & Activities

We made it to the end!!! Tell me that picture doesn't look like Steve and Eddie's arms!!!

Tags: Established Relationship, Post-Season 4, Canon Divergent, Everybody Lives (obviously), New Year's Eve, New Year's Eve Kiss, New Year's Eve Fluff, Humor

wc: 1480 | Rating: T

Read on ao3 | ao3 collection

“Let me get this straight,” Steve says, resting his forearms on the candy counter of Family Video. After a quick glance around to make sure the store is still empty (it is and has been since their shift started four hours ago), Steve continues. “You won’t be my New Year’s kiss because you have to scarf down 12 grapes in 12 seconds.”

“That’s correct.”

“That makes no sense!”

“Maybe if you stopped whining and actually listened to why, you’d understand” Robin chimes in.

Steve looks up and scowls before flicking her knee that’s dangling off the candy counter. She shouldn’t even be up there in the first place — especially not with her damn shoes on. It’s going to take an extra ten minutes to clean the damn thing now that she’s scuffed it up.

“Fine,” he sighs, turning his attention back to Eddie. “Why do you have to scarf down 12 grapes instead of kissing me, your boyfriend?”

Robin snorts, nearly choking on a piece of licorice. Serves her right, Steve thinks as he wordlessly passes her a cup of water.

“I’m so happy you asked,” Eddie beams as he leans against the counter like Steve. Their forearms brush as Eddie situates himself, elbows pressing into the glass as he nestles his chin in the palm of his hands. “See an old wise tale in my culture says that eating 12 grapes at the 12 strokes of midnight brings good luck in the new year.”

“Do you even believe in luck?”

Eddie hums in consideration, “Not really, no. But I’m not going to tempt fate. Especially when I have too much to lose in the new year if I fuck it up.”

Before Steve has time to ask a follow-up question, his lips are on Eddie’s. Warm and slightly chapped. Tasting like tobacco and an overwhelming serving of cherry thanks to the stupid licorice he’s been devouring with Robin. He barely has time to close his eyes and lean into the kiss before Eddie pulls away with a simper and a cute flush spreading across his cheeks that he tries to hide with a lock of his hair.

“What if I said not kissing me at midnight is bad luck?” Steve tries. 

“Well, then I guess I could try to do both.”

“Absolutely not,” Robin says, butting back into the conversation. “I am not calling the paramedics one second into the new year because you two decided to be major dinguses. Just let Eddie eat his grapes and kiss him after.”

“But it’s not the same,” Steve bemoans. He lets his body go slack, chest, and head thunking against the counter with a gentle force that should keep him from bruising. Looking up through his eyelashes, he gives Eddie his best attempt at making his eyes wide and innocent in a way that’ll make him break. “I haven’t had a midnight kiss in years. I just thought this year was going to be different.”

“Join the club,” Robin says, knocking her knee against his outstretched forearm.

“Oh no, trouble in romance land, Birdie?” Eddie asks, completely ignoring Steve’s terrible attempt at guilt-tripping him.

Robin sighs, tipping her head back until it thunks against the wall. The neon Family Video sign shakes under the vibration but thankfully doesn’t fall. That’s a mess Steve doesn’t want to have to clean up.

“I thought when Vickie broke up with her douchebag boyfriend things would fall into place but nothing has happened. There’s only so many hints I can drop before I accept the fact that she’s not into me.”

“But she is into you,” Steve says. If there’s one way to get him out of his own pity party, it's dragging Robin out of her own.

“Yeah well, my last four dateless weekends say otherwise.”

“Maybe you should eat the grapes too,” Eddie says. “Freak says if you eat them under a table it’ll bring good luck in your love life.”

Steve can’t help but snort. “How’s that working out for him?”

“Well, he has a girlfriend up in Maine where his grandparents live so you tell me,” Eddie challenges.

“At this point, I’ll try anything. I can’t go another year without kissing a girl,” Robin whines. “Any other good luck charms I should know about?”

“Argyle said his family wears different color underwear for different types of luck. Red for love, obviously.”

“Red underwear and grapes. Got it.”

Steve sighs, shaking his head. “I guess we’re making a stop at Bradley’s before we head home. Does it matter if they’re red or green grapes?”

“Nope. A grape is a grape. The important thing is eating them fast.”

“Right,” Steve nods as if he understands even though he’s still incredibly skeptical about this whole charade. Kissing Eddie sounds so much better than nearly choking on grapes, but whatever. If it makes Eddie happy, well, he’ll compromise. “Might be good to have the phone nearby then. Just in case we forget how to chew.”

“Wait we? Are you eating grapes too?” Eddie asks, already bouncing on his feet in anticipation.

Okay, yeah, eating a few grapes is worth the look on his face right now.

“Can’t let you and Robin take all the good luck,” he shrugs.

Eddie grins before launching himself at the counter. He practically vaults over the damn thing but his belt gets caught and he goes stumbling into Steve’s arms instead. It’s not the first time they’ve fallen together like this, and it definitely won’t be the last given his clumsiness, but Steve doesn’t mind. Especially not when Eddie pushes himself up and sears a kiss on his waiting lips.

“Promise I’ll make the first kiss of the new year worth the wait.”

🍇 🎆 👨‍❤️‍💋‍👨

As the kids start counting down from 30, Steve scrambles to pass out the giant green grapes he and Robin picked up the day before. The kids are uninterested in the tradition, but Eddie ropes Jonathan and Nancy into his antics. Argyle didn’t need convincing, already eager to cross off as many New Year’s superstitions as he could — which is why he ran around the block with an empty suitcase half an hour ago.

Robin b-lines for the dining room table the minute she has 12 grapes in her palm and it’s only a matter of seconds before Eddie’s tugging Steve after her.

“Eds,” he shouts, nearly spilling his grapes in the process. “What are you doing?”

“Getting us under the table!”

“I thought that’s for good luck in love.”

“It is,” Eddie says, ducking as he squishes in next to Robin.

“But you already have me.”

“Wow, Steve. Someone’s full of themselves,” Robin teases.

“That’s not what I meant!”

“I just want to make sure the universe gives me enough luck to keep you,” Eddie says, bashfully, before giving Steve’s wrist another yank. “Now get under here before you ruin the magic!”

Steve wants to tell Eddie that he doesn’t need some silly superstition to keep him. He’s not going anywhere, not if he can help it. But the kids are really shouting now, already down to five seconds and Steve can see the slight panic in Eddie’s brown eyes so he scrambles under the table instead.

“3! 2! 1! Happy—“

“Eat, eat, eat!” Eddie shouts, drowning out the cheers of the kids in the living room.

Steve shoves the first grape into his mouth and gets to chewing, watching as Eddie shoves at least three and Robin tries her best to work through her own pile of grapes as fast and carefully as she can. It’s a chaotic flurry, especially when one of Eddie’s grapes falls and goes rolling, but Steve saves it without getting out from the table and pops it in Eddie’s mouth for him. He wants to say “for extra good luck” but he’s too busy trying not to choke on his own mouthful of grapes.

Christ, why did they have to be so big and crunchy?

In the end, all three of them manage to successfully eat their grapes before 12:01 hits. To celebrate, Eddie drags Steve back out from under the table. Back on their feet, Eddie dramatically dips him in his arms before giving him the cheesiest kiss they’ve ever shared — loud “mwah” included.

“That’s the big kiss you promised me?” Steve asks, laughing as Eddie pulls him back into a standing position.

“Well, I had other plans but there’s too many witnesses for how I really want to kiss you,” Eddie teases, before leaning in closer. “I’ll show you later.”

Steve smiles as he gets his hands around Eddie. This time he’s the one who pulls him close, bodies flush as he stares into those beautiful brown eyes he hardly even looked at a year ago. “I think this is going to be a good year.”

“’87, baby.”

[its-time-to-write]

Hello! I absolutely love your work. You’re a fantastic writer. Is it possible for you to do something based a bit off of the song London Boy by Taylor Swift? If not I understand. I just feel there’s some cool way to tie it with Jamie Tartt. Sorry if it’s a bit of a generic request

ALRIGHTY gotta preface this, I actually hate this song 😂 Lyrics aren’t bad, but the like accent thing she does makes me die a little bit. BUT. I saw what you were going for (I think)! So here it is, I suffered through listening to this song bc you asked for a fic and I am nothing if not eager to please.

This is also a response to two other requests. So if that was you, ✌️😗 y’all were on the same page, congratulations. This is also my first song-based fic, although all of my works are (very, very loosely) based on songs. That’s why they have such insane titles😅 ANYWAY that’s enough talking from me. Enjoy!

i fancy you

i love my hometown as much as Motown, i love So-Cal

Richmond in London is very different from your hometown in Southern California. It’s colder, for one. And older. Things in California don’t have the same extended history as they do in England. You’re here visiting family for a couple months, although your cousins are trying to convince you to stay longer. 

“What do you really have waiting for you in California?” Holland asks.

“Uh, the beach. Sun. Great Mexican food.” you respond.

Holland isn’t buying it. “When else are you going to be able to live here? We can help you get a job and all that, not a huge problem.”

Holland is very convincing. You decide to stay for a year, single year, and see what happens.

Holland is four years older than you, and has always been the cousin you’re closest to. You’ve had a long-standing bond since being the two eldest sisters in your family. Holland takes you to clubs and introduces you to her friends, including a Miss Keeley Jones who thinks you are “abso-fuckin-lutely adorable.” 

“You have to bring her to a Richmond match, babes,” Keeley says. “Lots of fit footballers.” She winks.

You ask Keeley of she’s dating a footballer.

“Oh god no,” she shudders. “A coach.”

You don’t really see the difference.

saw the dimples first and then i heard the accent

It was a good match, even you can tell. The Richmond team played seamlessly, passing the ball back and forth without letting the other team even touch it. Their conductor of sorts, the one mediating the passes, was crazy. He never seemed to get tired, anticipating his teammates’ moves and those of the opposing team. It seemed like he was always five steps ahead of everyone. Holland notices you watching him and pokes Keeley.

“You like Jamie?” Keeley laughs. “Makes sense. Anyone with eyes likes him. He’s right fit, too. Good in bed, shit with feelings. Well, used to be. Still fucking cocky.”

That’s interesting. “You’ve been with him?” you ask.

Keeley gives you a 50/50 hand motion. “Sort of. Don’t really count it, do I? Was with him at his fucking worst. That’s why Roy fucking hates him.”

“He’s much better now,” Holland chimes in. “Something happened last season and he stopped being such a dick.”

“Holland!” you reproach, laughing. “That’s not nice!”

She and Keeley shrug. “It’s true though, innit?”

You don’t know if it is, because when you first see Jamie up close in the club later that night, he seems perfectly fine. You see a flash of a smile, a dimple, then he says something (you don’t know what) but his accent is… something else. It’s not like Holland’s, or any of your family, but you know enough to pinpoint it to Manchester. 

“The accent got you, didn’t it?” says a voice near your ear and you yelp as Holland slides her arm around your shoulder.

“Gets the best of us,” says Keeley, grabbing your hand. “C’mon, I’ll introduce you.”

She drags you over despite your protests.

he likes my American smile, like a child when our eyes meet, ‘darling i fancy you’

Regular dinner dates are scary, but dinner dates with a Premier League footballer are downright terrifying. 

You made Holland help you figure out what to wear, and when she showed up at your aunt’s house she had Keeley in tow.

“Heard you’re in need of a bit of a makeover,” she grins. “Lucky for you, that’s my specialty.”

Keeley and Holland have brought some of Holland’s dresses and you’re in a dark green one that “does fucking wonders for your hair, babe.”

Keeley did your makeup while Holland curled your hair and just like that, you’re ready to go.

You groan, “God, I fucking hate first dates,” while shaking out your arms. 

“It’ll be fine,” Holland promises, and she’s right.

It’s more than fine. It’s fucking fantastic.

“I like your smile,” Jamie says. “Fuckin’ American, it is.”

You laugh. “What does that even mean?”

Jamie shrugs. “It’s bigger. Brits are more reserved. Like Roy. You met Roy yet? Biggest fucking twat I ever saw,” but he says it with such affection that you’re sure he means something else.

His eyes are electric, blue and dazzling. They betray his every thought and feeling and right now you feel like if you hold his gaze any longer you’re going to say something completely stupid. 

Turns out your not the one to say something stupid; he is.

You’re walking back to his car, holding hands and swinging them in between you when he stops and says, “Darling, I fancy you.”

You grin and he returns it. He asks, “Was that British enough for you? Feel like you got the whole experience?”

“Definitely,” you say. “Was I American enough for you?”

“Dunno,” he replies, “Got to test one more thing.”

His lips are very soft on yours.

met all of his best mates, so i guess all the rumors are true

“This is Isaac, Colin, Dani, and Sam.”

Jamie is introducing you to some of his team. You’ve been dating for a month now, and your first picture together just popped up in the papers the night before.

The boys of AFC Richmond were pretty sure Jamie was seeing someone, but they didn’t know who it was. Jamie had set up this dinner thing a while ago, it just so happened that the tabloids got to you first. 

It’s not even that great a picture honestly, but you’d been around Nelson Road enough that the boys were able to recognize you. 

It’s a little unnerving to meet them, what with Isaac’s intense stare and Dani’s wide, wide smile. You’re grateful Colin and Sam are acting normal.

“We have an American coach,” Colin says in an attempt to break the ice. It does, because you’re all laughing at the absurdity of his attempt. 

“We have heard very much about you,” Dani says and you wonder if he ever stops smiling. It feels so weird and so normal to be at Jamie’s house with a pile of food and FIFA queued up on the TV, ready to go. You figure that if you’re meeting his friends, Jamie must be at least a little serious. He finds your hand and squeezes it under the table as Isaac cracks his first smile of the night. It’s weird dating a footballer, but you think you can get used to it.

babes, don’t threaten me with a good time

Jamie’s house is the largest you’ve ever been in, and it used to be strange that it was only just the two of you, clattering around that big home. 

It’s a cool night after a warm day so you both decided to lay in his backyard under the stars. 

It feels so much like something you’d do as a teenager, and you tell Jamie as much.

“Used to sneak on me mum’s roof,” he tells you. “Didn’t even do dumb shit, I’d just go to look.”

You lay there in silence for a few moments until you feel something tickle your side.

“Jamie!” you shriek.

“I didn’t do nothing!” he protests. “Must’ve been a bug.”

You don’t believe him, but you don’t push it until you feel another tickle.

“Babe!”

“Babe, it weren’t me, I swear,” he says and you really don’t believe him, especially when he tickles you again less than a minute later.

You laugh. “Fuck you, Jamie Tartt.”

He smirks. “Babe, don’t threaten me with a good time.”

“Hm, maybe I want a good time.”

Jamie’s grin widens and he sits up. “You know where the bedroom is, love.”

you know i love a London boy

“I don’t fucking get it,” Jamie says. You shrug. 

“I literally don’t either,” you say. Your dad leans over to Jamie. “So basically…” he begins.

He’s halfway through his explanation when Jamie pokes you. “Babe,” he says, “can we switch seats so I can hear your dad better?” You chuckle then wiggle your way into Jamie’s seat while he gets into yours.

“Why the fuck is it called ‘football’ if it’s with their hands?” Jamie asks.

Your dad shrugs. “Not a clue, son, not a clue.”

The game progresses and one of the teams scores a touchdown.

“Hold the fuck up,” Jamie says. “Why did their score change that much?”

“I know this one!” you exclaim. “Different types of goals get different points. And there’s something called a lateral which has to do with moving backward I think?”

You dad just shakes his head with a grin and doesn’t attempt to clarify. 

Your dad spends the second half explaining everything to a very focused Jamie, and he asks questions the entire car ride home. It’s funny have Jamie here in America, staying at your parents house and seeing where you grew up. 

When you’re finally back home and in bed, you pull him as close as you can and whisper, “I love you very, very much. You know that, right?”

You can feel Jamie smile against your hair. “I love you too, very fucking much.”