#YES I NEVER REALIZED HE GENTLY GRABBED HER HAND IN THAT SCENE

[toodrasticallydumb]

NOoOOOooo!!!

YOU’RE TELLING ME IN EPISODE 25 OF SEASON 1 WHEN BARB IS ALMOST DYING AND STRICKLER REACHES FOR HER HAND WHILE SHE LAYS THERE AND JIM GOES “Thank you for doing this for me.” THIS ABSOLUTE BUM OF A MAN GOES “I’M DOING IT FOR HER.”??????

YOU HALFWIT, IDIOTIC, FATOUS DING-DONG YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO BE DOING THAT WHEN THIS KID IS LETTING YOU GO SCOT-FREE.

I DONT EVEN BLAME YOU TBH I BLAME THE WRITERS BECAUSE I WILL NEVER FORGIVE THEM FOR TAKING AWAY THE “It isn’t just for you.” FROM ME AND EVERYONE ELSE.

(i am aware i am very very late to this rant but what can i say? i have feelings about these decisions as i’m rewatching and yes, there may be more to come.)

[pucksandpower]

That’s Not My Name

Toto Wolff x wife!Reader

Summary: in which people assume you are everything except for your husband’s wife

Warnings: mentions of a significant age gap

The Daughter

You take a deep breath as you step through the paddock, clutching your pass tightly in your hand. The noise and energy of the Formula 1 weekend thrums around you. You’ve never been to a race before, and it’s all so new and overwhelming.

When Toto invited you to join him for the British Grand Prix, you were hesitant. This stage of your relationship is still so new — you’ve only been married a few months. But Toto was insistent. He wants you by his side.

Still, you feel out of place among the teams and journalists. You’re just a normal girl, plucked from obscurity by a man twice your age. What must they all think of you?

You arrive at the Mercedes garage and glance around nervously. The mechanics are bustling about, focused on their work. You spot Toto across the garage, talking intensely with his drivers. He looks stressed, his brows furrowed as he discusses strategy. This high pressure environment is his domain, but it’s foreign to you.

Toto glances up and notices you hovering near the entrance. His face breaks into a smile and he quickly excuses himself from his conversation to come greet you.

“Mein liebchen, you made it!” He exclaims, enveloping you in a tight hug. You cling to the solidness of him, drawing comfort from his familiar embrace.

“I wasn’t sure I should come,” you say softly, glancing around. The mechanics are staring curiously. You know how it must look — their team principal hugging an unknown woman half his age.

Toto cups your face gently, “I want you here. This is your world now too. Don’t worry what anyone else thinks.”

You bite your lip but nod, trusting in him. If Toto believes you belong here, then you do.

He tucks you under his arm and leads you further into the garage, introducing you to his team. They greet you politely, hiding any surprise or judgment. You know you’ll have to win them over, prove that you’re more than just Toto’s midlife crisis.

A sudden commotion draws your attention across the paddock. The Red Bull Racing team is gathered around the entrance, greeting their team principal enthusiastically as he arrives. Christian Horner is holding court, shaking hands and clapping shoulders.

You tense involuntarily. The rivalry between Mercedes and Red Bull is legendary, with Christian often attempting to get under Toto’s skin. You don’t know how he’ll react to you.

As if sensing your thoughts, Toto tightens his arm around you. “Don’t worry about him,” he murmurs. “I’m here.”

But you can’t relax as you see Christian look your way, his gaze sharp and assessing. He says something to his team and begins walking towards the Mercedes garage. Your heart sinks. There’s no avoiding this confrontation.

“Toto!” Christian calls out jovially as he approaches. “I see you’ve brought a special guest this weekend.”

Toto presses his lips together but forces a polite smile. “Yes, I wanted her to experience her first race weekend. Christian, meet Y/N, my wife.”

You extend your hand nervously. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Christian raises his eyebrows, blatantly looking you up and down. “Your wife? My, they do start young these days.” His tone is patronizing.

You blush deeply, humiliated. But Toto comes to your defense.

“I’d appreciate if you leave her out of our rivalry,” he says sharply. “She has nothing to do with it.”

Christian holds up his hands in mock surrender. “No need to get defensive! I just didn’t realize you had gotten hitched again. And to someone so … fresh faced. She could be your daughter!” He chuckles.

Your face burns. You hate Christian for putting voice to that thought. You know people judge you and Toto for your age difference. Hearing him joke about it so callously stings.

Toto steps forward angrily but you grab his arm, silently begging him not to cause a scene. He takes a deep breath, struggling to contain his temper.

“It was lovely to meet you, Christian,” you say as evenly as you can manage. “I do hope you’ll have a good weekend.”

Christian looks surprised by your composure. He nods farewell and heads back to the Red Bull garage, throwing one last smirk over his shoulder.

As soon as he’s out of earshot, Toto turns to you. “I’m so sorry about that,” he says earnestly. “Christian is an ass. Don’t let him get to you.”

You shake your head, swallowing back tears. “It’s fine, I knew people would think those things about me … about us ...” you trail off miserably.

Toto cups your face in both hands. “Look at me. None of that matters. He can think what he wants. But I know who you are. You are my heart, my present, and my future. No one can take that away, not even Christian bloody Horner.”

You give a watery laugh at his vehemence and he kisses your forehead tenderly.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you tell him, finding your courage again. “I want to be here.”

Toto smiles proudly and laces his fingers through yours. “Good. Let’s show them we’re not going to hide. I want you here, where you belong.”

Holding hands firmly, you walk with your head held high back into the bustling garage. Let them stare and whisper. You know your place is here with Toto. No judgment or rivalry can change that. This is your world now.

The Assistant

The day has been a whirlwind so far. After the confrontation with Christian Horner, you tried your best to settle into the hectic swing of pre-race preparations. Toto has been swept up in strategy meetings and sponsor obligations. You trail along behind him, clutching your paddock pass, trying not to get in the way.

During a rare free moment, Toto turns to you. “Why don’t you go exploring for a bit? Get a feel for the place. I need to take this call but I’ll come find you soon.”

You nod uncertainly. Venturing off alone makes you nervous, but you want to prove to Toto you can handle this new world.

You wander toward the garages housing the Formula 2 teams. The cars are lined up, mechanics hovering over them making final tweaks and adjustments. You watch them work, enthralled by their practiced movements.

“Are you lost?”

You turn to see a mechanic frowning at you. He’s from one of the backmarker teams, a lower budget operation.

“Oh no, just looking around,” you stammer self-consciously.

The mechanic’s eyes drop to your pass. “Ah a VIP pass eh? Who are you with?”

“Oh um Mercedes ...” you trail off awkwardly.

His eyebrows raise, impressed. “Posh. You must be Toto’s new assistant then?”

You freeze, the old insecurity rising. Assistant. Because why else would someone your age be hanging around the Mercedes garage? You want to correct him, but the words stick in your throat. You don’t want to make a scene.

So you just nod and mumble something noncommittal. The mechanic looks sympathetic.

“First race weekend is it? They can be chaotic. But don’t worry, you’ll get the hang of it. Who knows, if you impress the boss, you might get to travel full time!”

He means it kindly, but his words dig into your wounds. You give a thin smile. “Thank you, I appreciate the advice.”

You turn away before he can respond, a lump forming in your throat. No matter what Toto says, people will make assumptions about you.

Lost in thought, you wander toward the bustling fan zone. It’s a sea of colors, supporters wearing their favorite team’s kit. You pass unnoticed, just another face in the crowd.

The roar of an engine makes you glance up. The Formula 2 cars are being pushed out of the garage, heading for the grid. You hurry over, eager to get a closer look.

A harried looking engineer nearly runs right into you, focused on his tablet. “Oh, sorry, excuse me.” He does a double take. “Hey, you’re Toto’s new assistant right? I saw you with him around the paddock earlier.”

Your heart sinks. Word has spread. You open your mouth to correct him but he barrels on.

“Listen, I hate to do this, but any chance you can help me out? My usual assistant called in sick and I’m swamped. I just need someone to hold these and stand with the engineers during the race. You’ll get a front row view of the start!”

He looks at you pleadingly. You hesitate, but his need seems genuine.

“Um, sure, I can help,” you say.

“You’re a lifesaver!” He exclaims, piling several tire blankets into your arms. They’re heavier than you expected. “Just follow me.”

He leads you onto the grid and you get swept up in the controlled chaos, focusing on not dropping the blankets. The cars pull into position around you. The engineer directs you where to stand and you end up right against the barrier, the engines roaring just feet away.

Your heart races with excitement. The start is exhilarating, the cars peeling away in a blur. You forget your insecurities for a moment, lost in the thrill of the race.

The checkered flag waves and the engineer finally relieves you of the weight in your arms. “Thanks so much for your help! I really appreciate it ...” he pauses. “Actually I don’t think I got your name?”

You open your mouth but a familiar voice interrupts. “There you are!”

Toto appears through the crowd and pulls you into his arms. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you! Are you alright?”

He notices the engineer standing there awkwardly. “Can I help you?” Toto asks coolly.

“Nope, we’re all good here. Thanks again for your help,” the engineer nods at you and disappears into the dispersing crowd.

“What was that about?” Toto frowns. “Why was he giving you tire blankets?”

You sigh, feeling the weight of the day pressing down on you again. “He thought I was your new assistant. He needed help so I said yes.” You shrug helplessly.

Understanding flashes across Toto’s face and he swears under his breath. “I’m so sorry, I never should have left you alone. I should have made things clearer who you are.”

You shake your head. “It’s okay. I don’t mind helping out, really.” But your voice wavers, betraying your hurt.

Toto cups your face gently. “No, it’s not okay. You are my partner, my equal. Not my assistant. I need to show people the extraordinary woman you truly are.”

His faith bubbles up your own courage. You straighten your shoulders, looking him in the eye.

“Then let’s go show them. I’m not hiding anymore. Take me where I belong, right by your side.”

Toto kisses you fiercely. “With pleasure, meine liebchen.”

He tucks you under his shoulder proudly. You keep your head high as you walk back through the paddock, passes reflecting in the sun. Let them stare and whisper. You know where you belong.

The Trespasser

A few months later, you’re starting to find your stride. Each race weekend poses new challenges, but with Toto by your side you’re learning to navigate the hectic world of motorsports.

The Mercedes team has slowly warmed up to you as well. Seeing how happy Toto is has softened their skepticism. You pitch in where you can — bringing freshly baked pastries and trying to make yourself useful. Having a purpose eases your lingering insecurities.

The Singapore Grand Prix means a sweltering heat that makes the paddock sticky and humid. The stuffy garage offers little relief so you wander outside hoping for a breeze. You end up in the fan zone, mingling with supporters visiting the various team merch shops and activities.

You chat with a few enthusiastic young fans, gently deflecting their eager questions about Toto and the team. Despite the heat and crowds, their passion for the sport is contagious and you find yourself smiling.

Toto texts that he needs you back at the garage, so you reluctantly leave your anonymous conversations and make your way through the paddock. As you draw closer to the Mercedes garage, you realize your pass has gone missing from your lanyard.

Your heart sinks. The passes grant crucial access and you don’t want to cause problems. But the garage is just ahead so you decide to explain yourself once you’re inside.

Slipping through the open door, you immediately spot Toto in the back. As you weave between bustling mechanics, a hand grasps your shoulder.

You turn to see one of the newer Mercedes mechanics frowning down at you. “What are you doing in here?” He demands. “This area is restricted.”

Flustered, you try to explain about your missing pass. But the mechanic’s stern expression doesn’t waver.

“How did you get in? I know all the team members but I haven’t seen you before.” His eyes narrow suspiciously.

Other mechanics have noticed the confrontation and start drifting over. You shrink under their doubtful gazes.

“I, uh, I’m Toto’s ...” you stammer, but the mechanic cuts you off.

“A likely story. Every race some starry-eyed fan tries to sneak in for an autograph or photo. You picked the wrong garage for that. Come on, let’s go.”

He takes your arm in a firm grip. Your protests fall on deaf ears as he escorts you briskly outside.

To your dismay Toto is occupied with an intense conversation, his back turned. No one intervenes as the mechanic marches you away from the garage and into the paddock.

“I don’t know how you got in here, but I’ll be reporting this. We can’t have unauthorized people wandering around restricted areas.”

You tug uselessly against his hold, trying to explain it’s all just a misunderstanding. But he remains stoic, unmoved by your pleas.

Other teams and drivers are staring now as he parades you past. Your face burns with humiliation at the thought of causing a scene or being accused of lying.

In a stroke of luck, you spot Lewis heading towards the Mercedes motorhome ahead. He knows you, surely he can clear this up!

You call his name desperately. “Lewis, Lewis! Help, please!”

Lewis turns, confusion clouding his features. But then he recognizes you and his brow furrows.

“What’s going on here?” He asks sharply, striding over.

The mechanic snaps to attention, clearly intimidated to be addressed by Lewis directly.

“I caught this girl sneaking around the garage! She claims to know Toto but it’s obviously a ruse to get access. I was just escorting her out.”

Lewis looks incredulous. “This is Toto’s wife, mate. She’s supposed to be there.”

The mechanic gapes, his authoritative air dissipating. “His wife? But she’s so young ...” he glances at you uncertainly. “My apologies, ma’am, I didn’t realize. We have to be vigilant about security.”

You shrug off his now-slack grip. “It’s fine, just a misunderstanding,” you mumble, face still burning.

Lewis places a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “C’mon, let’s get you back where you belong.”

He leads you away from the shrinking mechanic back toward the Mercedes garage. You feel tears pricking your eyes.

“Thank you, Lewis,” you say shakily. “I tried to explain but he wouldn’t listen ...”

“Don’t worry about it. That guy is new around here, still learning the ropes.” Lewis pats your shoulder consolingly.

You nod, trying to brush it off. But the encounter left you rattled. Will there always be those who see you as an outsider?

Lewis seems to sense your swirling doubts. “He was just new. The team knows you well by now. Stuff like this will stop happening once the rest get used to you being around.”

You want to believe him. You’ve tried so hard to find your place here.

As you near the garage, Toto comes rushing out, scanning the paddock anxiously. His shoulders sag with relief when he spots you.

“Where have you been? I turned around and you were gone!” He exclaims, pulling you into his embrace.

Over his shoulder, you see Lewis mouth “tell him” before discreetly slipping away.

You take a deep breath and explain what happened with the mechanic. Toto’s expression darkens, his protective anger rising.

You touch his cheek gently. “It wasn’t his fault. It was just a misunderstanding.”

Toto sighs, anger melting away. “I should have been there. I should have introduced you properly to the new staff.”

You shake your head. “You can’t be responsible for how everyone sees me. I don’t need you fighting my battles. This is something I have to earn for myself. Their respect, their trust … I just need more time.”

Toto gazes at you with so much love and pride it takes your breath away. “You are so much stronger than you know. And if they can’t see that, well that’s on them.”

He kisses you softly. “Take all the time you need. I’m not going anywhere. We’ll get through this together.”

And wrapped securely in his arms, you finally believe it’s true. This is your world now. Your place is here, with him.

The Nanny

The warm early autumn breeze ruffles your hair as you wait outside the primary school, keeping one eye on the time. Any minute now the bell will ring, signaling the end of your son’s second day of preschool.

You smile thinking of this morning and his eager goodbye hug before practically sprinting into the building, too excited to look back. He has his father’s confidence.

Shifting the baby carrier holding your sleeping newborn daughter, you smooth down your dress self-consciously. Even after years with Toto, you still can’t help but feel out of place at posh schools like this.

The other mothers eye you curiously. No doubt wondering about the young woman with an infant waiting alone.

You know some of them recognized Toto yesterday when he dropped off and picked up your son. Your heart had lurched seeing him cradling Leon’s small hand, both your boys glancing back to wave goodbye.

But duty called for Toto today with important meetings at Mercedes’ Brackley Headquarters, so pickup fell to you today. Not that you mind another glimpse of that overjoyed grin when your son spots you.

The bell rings and a stream of children come pouring out the doors. You crane your neck, looking for a familiar head of tousled curls.

There! You wave eagerly as your son breaks into a run when he sees you.

“Mama!” He cries joyfully, slamming into your legs. You stroke his hair, hugging him tight.

“Did you have a good day baby?” You ask as he looks up at you adoringly.

He nods, launching into a story about finger painting that you can barely follow. But his enthusiasm is contagious and you can’t help but smile.

A polite cough interrupts you. An immaculately dressed woman is hovering nearby, eyeing your son curiously.

“Sorry to bother you, but I wanted to introduce myself properly. I’m Clarice, Emma’s mum,” she gestures to a girl clinging shyly to her leg.

“Lovely to meet you,” you say politely, shaking her offered hand. “I’m Y/N and this is Leon.”

You ruffle his curls and he gives a dimpled smile before hiding against your side. Clarice’s eyes flick between you and your son, a slight furrow in her brow.

“I hope I’m not overstepping, but I met Leon’s father yesterday during drop off. Is his mother … not around?” She asks delicately.

Your cheeks flush. Of course she would assume you’re the nanny, not the mother. Bracing yourself, you shake your head.

“No it’s okay! I’m his mother. Toto — Leon’s dad — had meetings today, so it’s my turn to do pickup.”

Clarice looks mortified. “Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry for assuming. You just look so young, I thought ...” she trails off, flustered.

You force an understanding smile. “Don’t worry, it’s an easy mistake. Our age difference does raise some eyebrows.” You punctuate this with an awkward laugh.

Clarice seems eager to change the subject. “What a beautiful baby!” She gushes, peering at your daughter sleeping in her carrier. “And so well behaved.”

Grateful for the redirected conversation, you chat politely about your little girl. Clarice coos over her sweetly.

Other parents begin dispersing with their kids and Clarice makes her goodbyes. “So lovely meeting you both. I’m sure I’ll see you around.”

You smile and take Leon’s hand to drive home, his chattering filling your ears. You know curious parents will likely gossip about Toto’s young wife. But it doesn’t sting as much as it once did. You’ve grown used to the assumptions by now.

Unlocking the front door, you’re greeted by the smell of cooking. Leon goes tearing off to the kitchen, shouting “Papa!” at the top of his lungs. Chuckling, you follow after, your daughter beginning to stir in her carrier.

Toto is there to sweep Leon into his arms, smothering his cheeks in kisses as your son giggles. The scene warms your heart.

Noticing your arrival, Toto sets Leon down to embrace you and peer at the baby. “How was pick up? Any tears today?” He asks Leon.

Your son shakes his head proudly. “I made a picture for you, Papa!” He runs off to retrieve it.

You meet Toto’s gaze over your daughter’s downy hair. “It was fine. Just the usual questions about my age from a school mum. She thought I was the nanny when we first met.”

You try to say it lightly, but Toto’s face tightens, protective anger flashing. Even after all this time, he hates when people judge you unfairly.

You touch his arm gently. “It’s okay, really. I don’t care what they think.”

And it’s true. The opinions of strangers can’t touch the beautiful family you’ve built together.

Toto lets out a long breath, anger melting away. “I know. But I still wish people could see you how I do.”

He pulls you close and you lean into him, breathing in his comforting scent. “As long as you and the kids see me, that’s all that matters.”

Leon comes barreling back in, brandishing his painting. “Look!!”

You both admire his abstract swirls of color dutifully. “A masterpiece!” Toto proclaims. “We’ll hang it on the fridge.”

Leon beams under the praise then dashes off again in pursuit of a toy.

You and Toto share a wry smile. “Never a dull moment with that one,” you remark. The baby begins fussing and you gently sway her.

“Here, let me.” Toto takes her expertly and she settles against his broad chest. Your heart squeezes at the sight.

Toto meets your gaze. “I know I’ve put you through a lot over the years. The stares, the gossip … you’ve endured it all with grace when you could have walked away.”

You stroke his cheek. “You and our family are worth any trial. I would do it all again without a second thought.”

Toto leans into your palm. “Having you by my side is the greatest gift.”

You kiss him softly, your heart brimming with love.

From the other room, Leon’s playful giggles reach you. The smell of dinner being prepared still fills the warm kitchen. And your baby girl doses off in her daddy’s arms.

This is your world. The only one that matters. And you know for certain you belong.

The Husband

The morning sun streams through the hotel window as you sip your coffee, scrolling absentmindedly through social media. Race weekends are always a whirlwind, but you’ve learned to carve out small moments of calm when you can.

Toto is already down in the paddock prepping for qualifying today. The room feels empty without him. Sighing, you click over to TikTok, hoping for a distraction.

Immediately a video pops up on your feed from a fan account, the caption “so cute!” catching your eye. You tap play, assuming it’s another clip of drivers’ kids or someone’s grid walk antics.

But you nearly spit out your coffee when the video loads. It’s Toto, standing by the circuit entrance, surrounded by a gaggle of teenage girls. They’re prodding phones toward him eagerly, voices babbling over one another.

“Toto, what’s it like being Y/N’s husband?” One asks boldly.

You freeze, breath caught in your throat. In all the years by Toto’s side, you’ve never heard anyone flip the script like that. It’s always been “what’s it like being Toto’s wife?” You’re an accessory to his fame, not the focus.

Toto looks momentarily surprised, then laughs good-naturedly. “She is extraordinary,” he proclaims sincerely. “Being with her is a privilege every day.”

The girls sigh dreamily at his romanticism. Another chimes in, “You must be so proud of everything she’s accomplished!”

Toto nods, his expression tender. “I am in awe of her strength and resilience. She has faced so much scrutiny with grace. And now people finally see her incredible spirit.”

You press a hand to your mouth as tears spring to your eyes. After years by his side, Toto’s steadfast faith in you still takes your breath away.

“So you’re proud to be Y/N’s husband?” The first girl presses.

“Absolutely.” Toto doesn’t hesitate. “She is my inspiration.”

The video ends and you sit staring at the screen, cheeks wet. Never did you imagine your own fans, separate from Toto. But these girls look up to you, see you as more than just “the wife.”

Your phone buzzes with a text from Toto.

Have you seen the video? The PR team says you’re trending on TikTok!

You type back shakily.

Just watched it. Made me cry happy tears 🥹

His response is immediate.

You deserve all the praise, meine liebchen. I meant every word.

Wiping your eyes, you get up and dress quickly. Down in the paddock, you spot Toto right away. He sweeps you into his arms.

“There’s my superstar wife.” His eyes shine with pride.

You kiss him fiercely. “Thank you for always believing in me. Even when I doubted myself.”

Toto touches your cheek. “You’ve earned every bit of admiration. Don’t ever forget your worth.”

As he walks you into the bustling garage, mechanics glance up from their work to smile and wave. The fans hover nearby, whispering excitedly when they see you.

You no longer feel out of place here. This is your world now, as much as Toto’s. You’ve claimed your seat at the table.

Standing confidently by your husband’s side, you wave back, ready to take on the day.

[entitled-fangirl]

Sweet mama.

Joel Miller x reader

Summary: Joel gets baby fever watching the reader play with Tommy and Maria's baby.

Author's note: don't think too hard about the timeline please and thank you. Also, I got baby fever this weekend, so I figured I'd make everyone else have it, too. Also also- I use they/them for the baby since the gender hasn't been revealed in the show

Masterlist

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

Oh, God. She was all that occupied his mind at the moment. 

Life in Jackson was not exactly what Joel had in mind, but even he'd admit, it had its perks. 

For example, this scene in front of him.

Y/N on the floor of their shared home with Tommy and Maria's baby.

At first, Joel had very much disliked the idea of babysitting for the night when Tommy asked. But how could he have said no when he saw the way Y/N's face lit up at the very thought?

So, he obviously said yes.

But now, here they were actually doing it. 

He was sat on the dusty couch with an old can of beer he had found, sipping occasionally when he fell out of his daydreams. 

How can he not enjoy the way she interacted with the kid?

He had seen just how fantastic she could be with Ellie.

Y/N had been with Joel a little less than Tess had. They had had a rocky start, especially right at the beginning.

She was a friend of Bill and Frank's. And Frank had decided that they should meet.

But he knew telling both parties about it would only cause conflict. 

So, he didn't tell them at all.

Imagine their surprise when unsuspected visitors appeared in the middle of Y/N's and Frank's tea time. 

She pulled her gun on Joel.

Things were tense for a while after that.

But, after some time, they found that they liked each other very much.

Sometimes, Joel worried that they liked one another a little too much.

"You know," Joel finally said to her. "I haven't even been around a kid like this since… well, when it was Sarah, I guess."

She looked up from her spot on the ground as the baby played with the wooden blocks in front of them, "Really?"

He nods, "Don't even know if I remember what to do. Thank God I got you."

She laughs, "You were the one that was a parent. I was just an older sister. That's how I got my experience."

He shrugs, "You have a gift for it."

She smiles, grabbing the 10-month-old. The baby giggles as she lifts them into the air. She walks to the couch, "Here." She holds out the baby to him.

He holds his hands up in surrender, "Nah. You're doing great, Sweetheart. I won't stop ya."

She scoffs, holding the baby close to her chest now with a teasing scoff, "Whatever, Miller."

"I'm serious," He argues, "I like watching you like this. Happy and… God, this looks so fucking natural for you."

"Joel!" She yelled. "Language."

He laughs, "See? You're…" He sighs in thought.

She notices, "What?"

He smiles and shakes his head, "In another world, sweet girl…"

She tilted her head, "Joel, I'm confused."

He stands up, inches from her face now. He gently takes the baby out of her arms and places them in the makeshift playpen. He returns to her quickly.

His arms grab her waist gently. His voice lowers, "If life was different, I'd give you a baby right now."

Her cheeks turned pink, "What?"

He laughs as he buries his face into her neck, "Think about it. You'd be a beautiful mother. God, I'd give you a baby."

Her gaze started to turn hopeful. She had never thought about having a baby. 

Her thoughts turned dirty as he started to kiss up her neck slowly.

"A sweet mama." Kiss. "Walking around here with my baby in you." Kiss. "Making every man in here green with envy." Kiss. "You'd be so pretty like that." Kiss. "God, you'd just glow more than you do now."

"Joel…?"

He pulled away at her weak voice.

She looks away in thought. "Do you think… if… if this whole 'cure' thing works with Ellie… You think there may actually be a world we could have a baby in? Where… we could be parents?"

He takes in her features carefully, not realizing just how much his words had affected her. "Well… I… I don't know." 

She nods and pulls away from him completely, her wishful thinking over, "Right." She walks back to the baby in the playpen, "Not worth even hoping for."

He pulls her back into his firm chest, and circles her waist with his arms, "Hey. Don't say that. We'll just… leave it on the back burner. Yeah?"

She nods. "Back burner. Okay."

The two watch the baby in front of them play happily, blissfully unaware of the world they all lived in.

…

Y/N sat in the backseat with an unconscious Ellie.

She was still shaking at the sight of seeing Joel in a murderous rage in the hospital.

She knew he was protective of her and Ellie but she had never seen him do anything like that before.

She cradled the girl's head carefully in her lap, gently running her fingers through Ellie's greasy hair. 

She looked up to catch Joel's eyes in the rearview mirror. "Guess we're not getting that cure, are we?"

He shook his head, "Guess not."

"Say goodbye to the chance at parenthood." She sighed.

They sat in silence for a while.

She watched Ellie carefully to check for signs of her waking up.

And she heard Joel's light chuckle.

She looked up, "What?"

He looked at her though the mirror again, "Nothing, sweet mama."

"I'm not… this is…" She glanced down at Ellie, and back up at Joel. 

She smiled slowly as she reveled in Joel's observance.

"I guess…" she noted, "I guess we've already been doing it."

Joel nodded, "Guess it really was made for you."

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

[ajortga]

affection deprived

pairing: jenna ortega x fem reader

authors note: i do not like this but hopefully you do, please send more requests

word count: 1.5k+

-

based off this request!

-

where r asks emma to hold jenna's hand to see if she notices and the second emma held jennas hand she immediately knew it wasnt r's hand

-🥝

It was another filming day. You come in at least 4 times a week, rather if it’s to run a scene over, hair and makeup, a chemistry read or checking on costumes. 

As you get on set, you grab a coffee (that always manages to go untouched and goes cold) while playing a thumb war with your best friend, Emma Myers.

“Do they have strawberries today?” You ask while having your tongue slightly stuck out in concentration. “I don’t know where they get them from, but they’re always so perfectly sweet.”

Emma giggles, trapping your thumb as you squeal. “Gotcha! 1..2.. I think they do, I saw watermelons too if I remember correctly. 3… 4..”

You giggle, huffing when she wins the match. “At least those will make my day. Hey, your hands are so soft.” You begin playing with her hands, admiring how squishy they are.

“Thanks, babycakes,” the blonde jokes, holding your hand as you both swing back and forth while walking through set.

If anything, holding hands makes you think of Jenna. You haven’t been cuddly with her at the moment. You think it’s because she’s so caught up in work and how you always seem to hold her hand, that she doesn’t notice when you’re not. It’s like everywhere you go she automatically thinks her hands are intertwined with your warm ones.

“Hey, Emma. I wanted to ask you something,” you say, glancing into the distance as you see your girlfriend unaware of your presence far away, talking to one of the directors.

“What is it? You need me to help you with something?”

You nod, tearing your eyes away from the ones that weren’t looking at you to the ones that were. “You think you could help me out in trying to cast some spell on Jenna to make her realize that I miss her touches?”

“Oh yes.” The blonde says, making a small ‘pshhhh’ sound as she takes out her invisible wand. “Jenna Marie Ortega, I command you to snap out of your acting character and recognize your girlfriend’s needs!” She says, swaying up and down.

Your eyes roll, watching her be silly and take the opportunity to snap a photo. “Uh huh. I don’t know.. Okay. Jenna and I used to do this thing where I’d sneak under the table and cling onto her hand. It’s just been something that we’ve done ever since.”

In your relationship, you were the sucker for the people who knew you inside and out. Jenna was just that person. She’d rub your knuckles gently in a circle with her thumb whenever you grew nervous, always came home from her other film projects with something you’d like. 

Obviously she still does, you’ve just been feeling like you’ve had the lack of affection. “Which makes you grumpy,” Emma would say. You would sulk before filming a scene and Jenna would’ve noticed if hadn’t a distraction popped up. It was almost like you could see the small puzzles in her head would begin to turn then be interrupted. 

“So.. How is me holding your girlfriend’s hand going to do anything?”

“Hopefully it makes her notice how AFFECTION DEPRIVED I AM!” You almost yell. If she really thought Emma’s hand was really yours, you think you’d break up with her. (You would never be the one to break up first.)

-

It was Friday night. Some would say it was the night to party all night long. 

They were true.

Almost every Friday the Wednesday cast would gather at someone’s house, preferably Georgie’s because he had a trampoline and some dope snacks. You didn’t want to admit that when you and Jenna first saw how many good snacks he had, you slammed them into your bag. Jenna brought an extra tote bag smashed under the things in her backpack to push all the snacks in there the next time you went to Georgie’s house.

You stare down at your hand, chatter filling the room as everyone talks while eating. You wonder if it’s any special. You’re not sure why it matters so much to you. It's just like every other hand, right?

No one knows you better than Jenna, maybe you should just be straightforward with her and the lack of affection you’ve been feeling lately. 

“Ems?” You holler, looking around. You find her on the couch across from your girlfriend, in a deep conversation with each other.

And when Jenna turns to you with those sweet brown eyes, you feel like the happy giddy feeling in your chest. The feeling that lingered when you had a silly, puppy loved crush on the girl for the first time. You were a bundle of nerves, squeaking whenever you talked to her, cheeks flushing easily. 

And she was yours. Except that feeling just popped up again. Your eyes dart the room, opening your mouth to say something, then shutting it. Instead, you give an awkward wave and run out.

Jenna gave you a smile, eyebrows furrowing as she watched you dash out.

“I think my baby is scared of me.”

Emma rolls her eyes, looking at you go, “An affection deprived baby.”

-

“Okay Agent Double Two x Five thousand and Sixty Two, it’s time.” You whisper, you and the blonde eyeing the target in front of you.

Like two partners in crime.

“Roger that.”

Emma crawls under the table and you almost break your facade, a silly smile threatening to plaster on your lips as you see her bump her head on accident. You can see Jenna, talking to Hunter as she brings her drink to her lips. 

You look away, looking down at Emma’s current journey.

As she keeps talking, Emma counts the hands to be able to reach the right one. She approaches the brunette, where her hands are against her lap, and lightly taps it. A stupid grin forms on your face when you see your girlfriend’s face contort into confusion.

Jenna processes what’s going on as her hands roam around. She lightly catches the hand and feels it. Assuming it was you, she intertwined her hand with yours.

It doesn’t take 10 seconds before she feels like something is out of place. The hand is soft, but it’s too soft. Yours is just the perfect amount of soft. She rubs her thumb over the person’s knuckles and the pattern isn’t familiar.

She immediately tugs her hand away and looks under the table to see a goofy Emma Myers looking back.

“Emma? What the hell are you doing under there?”

“I was actually looking for my ball that I dropped.” Emma backs herself up, shoving her hand into her pocket and bringing up a neon green ball with a smiley face. “Oh wow! It was here all along! Thanks!” 

The blonde crawls out as the other girl blinks and watches her walk off. Something about realizing it wasn’t you made Jenna feel disappointed. She hasn’t held your hand whenever you nudged it while walking down the streets together. She’d brush it off thinking that you did it by accident. 

The events of the endless hours of filming caught up to her, she had been neglecting you with her lack of affection. All the signs were in front of her, yet she didn’t notice.

She excuses herself and looks around for you, peeking her head into the living room to see you scrolling through your phone.

“Hey, cutie. I missed you.” The brunette says softly, catching your attention as she squeezes next to you. You don’t respond, making grabby arms. She almost feels how twitchy you are as you cling onto her, her fingers thread through your hair, hoping she can make you feel a little better.

Your hands touch something soft and you feel hers nudging into yours. The perfect amount of softness. She didn’t realize how much she missed your touch until you’re curled up to her like a koala.

“I’m sorry I’ve been neglecting your affection needs. I just feel like filming messes with my surroundings. I would never do it on purpose, okay?”

God you missed her. You missed her cuddles. You missed her hugs. You missed-

“Y/N.”

“You swear?”

“I’ll swear on.. I don’t know!”

She wraps her arms around you tightly, lifting you up on her lap as she presses her lips to your cheek. "I want you to tell me whenever you feel this way, okay? I can’t survive knowing that I let you feel a certain way you don’t like and I don’t even notice.”

“Okay. I will, I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to think that I’m too affectionate.”

“Never.”

A small grin comes upon your lips, “Now can you teach me how to distinguish people’s hands?”

For the rest of the night, Jenna lets her scent comfort you, your hand laced in hers for almost the rest of the party. When you see Emma, you give her a goofy smile and a thumbs up. She grins and does a two finger salute.

Let’s just say that all the days after, you were woken up with kisses and hugs, and definitely a bit too spoiled on set with a showered affectionate girlfriend. She even tied your shoes. Maybe it was too much, but you didn’t want anything less. Too much made you feel like the happiest girl in the world.

[hwaslayer]

homie, lover, friend. | pmylm drabble (jyh)

⇢ homie, lover, friend. - drabble three // ft. the pmylm couple

summary: when yunho is your homie, your lover and your friend all wrapped into one.

words: 2.7k

warnings: cussing, mature language/sexually implied content, alcohol consumption and intoxication, club scene, dancing!! twerking buns on yuyu!! 🤌🏼, a very random club drabble because i realized we never got yuyu x oc in the clurb together even though he said he'd go with her 🤓 lol, lots of kisses!!, a quick but intimate shower together, clit play, handjob, tickles!!, theyre just cute iono how else to describe it 😭 ya’ll know that specific clip of the girly feeding her man a shot right lolol & this yuyu outfit in the banner?! ^

on rotation: good times - cristiles & dre b | gift & a curse - megan thee stallion | cloud 11 - thuy

"Happy birthday, Chaery!" You yell loudly with the rest of your friends, raising a shot glass filled to the brim with tequila. Behind you sits Yunho on the high chair, arm loosely wrapped around your waist as he holds the shot glass in the other hand. "Cheers, baby." You turn to the side to tap your glass against his carefully before the both of you take the shot down the neck.

"Fuck." Yunho makes a face, shimmying off the aftertaste as it travels down and warms his tummy. "Gross."

"Here." Yeosang laughs and slides his glass down. "One of you has to take my shot since I'm driving." Yunho looks up at you with doe-eyes, a small smirk on his face.

"I got you." You take the shot, wincing in response.

"Atta girl." Yunho taps your hip and rubs the surface.

"You're definitely still drinking with me when we get there." He gives you a look just as he tuts.

"Of course, who do you think I am?" Yunho still isn't a huge fan of drinking, but he will drink and have fun with you— especially since it's always been good times nonetheless. He enjoys seeing you all bubbly and smiley, dancing around with either chips or a plate of food in your hand. It's always becomes one of those moments where he looks at you and automatically thinks:

That's my girl.

And he falls in love all over again.

You giggle at his response and gently grab him by the jaw to kiss him on the lips, laughing when he winces and tastes the tequila lingering on your lips. The pre-game session continues for another 30-mins, you, your friends and Yunho all loudly cheering and having fun as the shots continue. Two turns to three, to four, easily. On the way to Yeosang's car, you're clinging onto Yunho as if your life depended on it. But, he loves every bit of it; loves seeing the way you look up at him like he is the moon, the stars, the planets combined.

Which is crazy, cause that's you to Yunho.

He laughs at how drunk you and your friends are, repeatedly kissing the top of your head and forehead until he helps you into the back seat of Yeosang's car. From the passenger's seat, he reaches back and gives your calf a squeeze, reassuring you that he's here and he's not going anywhere.

"Okay." Yeosang settles into the driver's seat and fixes his rear view mirror. "To my pretty ladies in the back, you have your seat belts on?"

"Yes!" Chaery drunkly yells from the middle seat with a loud giggle, with you and Minnie sandwiching her from the outer seats. "Take us to our destination, please!" Yeosang laughs as he shifts the gear into drive.

"On it, boss." Yeosang salutes. "Just promise me you'll make it inside." He playfully teases.

"Kang Yeosang, of course?! Do you have no hope in me?" Chaery leans over to look at him and poke him on the cheek.

"Wait, turn it up! It's my song!" Minnie yells, resulting in Yunho turning up the volume. Luckily, Yeosang isn't fazed by the how loud the car has gotten [including Yunho]. Truthfully, even as he's driving deep into the city and speeding through lanes, he enjoys the chaos.

It reminds him he's good people on his side.

The club is packed for a Friday night, and it seemed like everyone chose to go to this club in particular to celebrate all sorts of festivities. You've all chipped in for a table, which you're escorted to after getting through the short VIP line. You hold onto Yunho's hand tightly as you navigate through the crowds, having to slightly push and nudge your way across until your group makes it to the table— up a few steps and off to the corner from the crowd. The bottle girls instantly greet your group with sparklers and bottles of tequila and champagne in their hands. Your friends waste no time popping the bottles open, ordering more sodas to chase with in between shots and dancing around the table. You take two more shots to keep your energy up, Yunho allowing you to feed him a shot as he sits and looks up at you with his big, brown eyes; listening to you as him so sexily, yet so politely, to open up.

You're having the time of your life with your friends and your man, celebrating your bestfriend on her birthday. You and Yunho are busy dancing together and singing along to songs despite how silly and loud you both get. Yunho holds your hand as he belches out the songs or raps along— feeling himself like he's a 90s music video and you're the love interest he's trying to pursue. You laugh and you laugh, pressing your body close to his after he serenades you just to tippy-toe and kiss him on the lips. He sways you along, the both of you singing together as he wraps his arms around you and presses kisses to your temple.

You realize there's not one day [besides that silly little fight] that you're not smiling over Yunho. He never fails.

Other times, he has you bent over by the rail, gripping your hips, while you throw your ass back or is sitting back against the velvet, watching as you work your hips against him to Megan's Gift & A Curse blasting through the club speakers. Chaery and the rest of your friends are busy making their rounds between each other and on the general dance floor— meeting new people and even exchanging numbers with a few cuties they meet. You and Yunho cheer Yeosang on while you observe from the couches, watching as he dances with a new face on the dance floor, exchanging numbers with her shortly afterwards. Yunho can't help but look at you in pure admiration, large hands resting on your highs as you sit on his lap. You're in a white miniskirt, a black off the shoulder top and black knee-high boots; promise ring sitting on your hand. And god, Yunho thinks you're gorgeous.

You're always so damn gorgeous.

"Baby." Yunho says near your ear, causing you to turn slightly to face him and wrap your arms around him.

"Yeah?"

"You having fun?"

"I am. Are you?" He smiles and presses a chaste kiss to your jaw.

"Yeah." He continues to look at you through hooded lids, top teeth subtly biting onto his bottom lip. "C'mere." He squeezes at your thigh, cutely puckering his lips at you. You giggle and give him what he's asking for, licking into his mouth and kissing him deeply as if you two were alone in his room and not at the club. "Can't wait to get you home, all to myself."

"Yeah? For what, hm?" You continue to peck him with little, repeated kisses, biting onto your lip when you feel his lips graze your cheek. Gently nibbling at the surface before kissing you.

"Don't do that." He chuckles against your neck, lightly kissing you in your favorite spot below your earlobe. "You know exactly what."

"Yunho." You squeal, feeling his hand come to grab at your ass.

"My favorite lovebirds!" Seungmin plops next to you two on the couch, pouring himself some water from the carafe sitting on the table in front. 

"How's the dance floor?" Yunho pries himself from your neck to turn to him with a smile.

"Fucking crowded. But fun! I'm tired, though. Need a second to just breathe." You both laugh.

"Got a few numbers, I see." Seungmin blushes as he takes a sip.

"Sooo, when can we expect wedding invitations?" Seungmin does a full 360 with his response, and Yunho hugs you a little tighter.

"I mean, if it were up to me, it would've happened already." 

"Aye!" Seungmin drunkly yells, instantly pouring him and Yunho a shot to gobble down. At this point, Chaery comes to pull you off of Yunho's lap and bring you to the dance floor. You, the girls, Jongho, Hyunjin and Yeonjun are dancing in the middle of the floor, singing your hearts out to the song. You spot Yunho standing with Seungmin, Yeosang and a few others against the rail near the table. You cutely point at him and continue to sing at the top of your lungs in this loud ass club, but all he sees, hears, is you. The entire time, Yunho keeps his eyes on you because it's all about you—

It's always been about you.

Everything is you, Yunho is wrapped up in you; his homie, lover, friend.

And even as the night goes on, even as Yunho's energy dwindles, he still finds himself getting by because he has you. The group stays right until closing at 2am, your friends are still riding the waves, the good vibes, even as you exit the club. You tightly lace your hand with Yunho's as you bounce along to the music blasting from the nearby bars on the way to the car. You all make your way to the nearest convenience store to grab snacks to fulfill your drunchies before heading back home to the complex. Yeosang and Yunho make sure to help walk Chaery and Minnie back to your place for the night before you tag along to their unit. 

"My feet are killing me, ugh!" You groan, still sobering up from the night. You quickly pop off your boots and toss them aside before letting out a satisfied sigh. "Oh my god. Freedom." Yeosang snorts.

"Should've brought your crocs to change into after."

"I know, huh." You respond before heading into Yunho's room to grab a shirt to change into. "Sorry, I'm gonna call dibs on your shower." Yunho and Yeosang laugh.

"Go for it." Yeosang says, giving Yunho a look. "Think that's an invitation from your girl."

"We won't be long." Yunho laughs a bit, grabbing himself some clothes before following you into the bathroom.

"Uh huh." Yeosang laughs, chugging some water while leaning onto the kitchen counter to indulge in his ramen and snacks.

When Yunho steps inside, you've already stripped out of your clothes, body under the running hot water. You barely notice him come in until he slides the door open and joins you, hands immediately coming to your waist to pull you against him.

"Where was my invite, pretty girl?" His voice is husky, deep, right by your ear.

"Sorry, Yuyu. I thought you knew it was an automatic invite." He chuckles.

"Is that so?"

"Mhm." You hum. You continue to lather your body in body wash, Yunho's lips coming down to your shoulders. His hands are now trailing down your arms, caressing them as he continues to lay gentle kisses across your shoulder blades. His hands come up your front to help rinse your body, large hands massaging your breasts and earning a small content sigh from you. His hands roam further down, fingers gently rubbing at your heat in slow, circular motions. He nibbles on your shoulder before coming up to your earlobe, letting you guide his hand as he rubs your clit just the way you want it. And everything about it seems so beautifully filthy; the way you work yourself against his hand and desperately chase your high without him even being inside of you. Yunho's so fucking hard just watching you get off this way. 

"Oh my god—" Is all you can even put out before Yunho's covering your mouth with his other hand, the other still going into overtime on your core until he feels you wriggle and writhe, twitch in his grip.

"Shh." He says with a small smile before kissing your cheek. As much as he loves to hear you call for him and moan for him the way you usually do, he finds it better that you shouldn't while Yeosang is just sitting a few feet away in the kitchen. "Kinda hot seeing you cum just like that."

"Yunho." You whine.

"What, baby? Just wanted to take care of you somehow." He licks his lips.

"My turn then, hm?" You turn to face him, helping lather his body in return. When you finish, he takes his hand in yours and kisses your fingers, your knuckles. You cup his cheeks, kissing your man slowly, sensually. Taking all of him in, letting you both just be in this moment. But of course, you can't help yourself, especially with how much you're yearning for Yunho. You find your hand traveling down to his hardened length, stroking his long, hard cock at a steady pace. You watch as his head tilts back against the cold tile, eyes shut as he huffs and releases a shaky exhale. His moans are quiet, low. You pick up the pace ever so slightly and Yunho almost whines in your grip. You press kisses against his wet neck, biting at the base and on his collarbone.

"Fuck—mm'baby." He hisses. "Feels too good, gonna make me cum." You continue to coo him, praising him for how good he is to you, how good he's being for you, up until the very moment he releases his seed all over your abdomen and pussy. His chest rises and falls in an attempt to regulate his breathing, eyes hazy, body feeling euphoric. "You're too good at that, princess." You giggle.

"Could say the same for you." He gently smacks your ass as you turn back to the water to wash up again.

"Yeah, we should probably finish up so Yeo can get in here." He chuckles, quickly washing off the rest of the soap on his body while continuing to tease and poke fun at you in between.

After the shower, you plop onto the floor next to Yunho's bed, ripping your chips open while Yunho boils some hot water for your ramen bowls. You pull up My Love Story w/ Yamada-kun at Lvl999, a show that Yunho knows you've been heavily watching. He'll pop in and catch up when he's with you, but most of the time, he's sitting back and observing how your eyes glow, listening to your little gasps and squeals during the episodes.

"Here." Yunho sits criss-crossed next to you and hands you your bowl. "It's hot, love."

"Thank you." You smile at him and carefully take the bowl. "Your hair." You tease, running your hand through Yunho's ends poking out.

"Hey, I told you it gets like this when I don't dry it properly." You giggle, now threading through his fluffy hair. 

"S'cute." You start mixing your ramen more with your chopsticks, eyes glued back onto the screen. Suddenly, Yunho gasps at how good his ramen tastes, causing you to shift your attention back to him. "What?!"

"It's so good." You laugh loudly in response to his full cheeks.

"I'm glad you're enjoying." You begin to eat your own, nodding in approval.

"Remember that one time? Someone, I'm not entirely sure who, woke me up at 5am to catch the sunrise."

"Oh, you don't know who?"

"No, I don't." Yunho teases. 

"That's a shame. I'm sure she remembers you well."

"Yeah, I dunno." He continues. "She was cute, though. She kinda looked like my future—"

"Then go be with her and ask her to catch the damn sunrise again!" He laughs, gently shoving your food away before tackling you and tickling you to the ground. You squeal and bite him on the shoulder, pleading him to let you go before you accidentally kick him where you shouldn't.

He does, eventually.

He's on top of you, and he just stops and stares. You're not exactly sure what's going through his mind right now, but you know the one thing going through your own mind and that's:

"I love you." You say softly. Yunho continues to look at you before he gives you a tired but sweet toothless smile.

"I love you, too." Now, you can't help but stare at him and his features. Cause lord, if he only knew how deep, how madly in love you are with him. 

"No, but like, I really love you."

"I really love you too, Y/N." He chuckles. You truly hope he understands just how deep your love runs for him.

He, who knows every single detail about you and remembers flawlessly.

He, who you look forward to spending time with over and over again.

He, who loves you so tenderly, so carefully, so beautifully.

He, who takes care of every inch of your body because your body is a temple.

He, who you want and need first on both good days and bad days.

He, your homie, lover, friend.

⇢ permanent taglist: @asjkdk @interweab @woojirang @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs @persphonesorchid @mxnsxngie @jycas @cowboydk

[wsknbfanaccnt]

I’m so glad I found you cuz my obsession with knb suddenly decided to come back😭 anyway can you please do how they act seeing someone hurts their s/o please and thank youuu🫶🏻🫶🏻

YESSS omfg im actually the same way, my obsession came back recently LMFAO

thats how it is with our lil hyperfixations ugh which is why im writing a lot (especially abt Akashi<3)

anyways I LOVE THIS REQUEST okay i cant wait I LOVE WRITING THIS KIND OF TROPE AAAAAAAAAAA

and i realized i havent written scenarios in so long dayum

thank you for requesting!! i hope you enjoy it and feel free to request more <333

Someone hurts their s/o

TW!: violence, abusive ex, strangulation

You stayed behind in class for a while after school, talking to your teacher about a few questions you had in class. As a result, your beautiful boy went off to practice by himself and you two agreed to meet at the gym. Little did you know, your abusive ex was waiting right in the halls by the gymnasium. As you made your way there, he jumped out in front of you with a smirk.

"Hey there, (y/n)." Immediately you stepped back, fear overcoming you.

"H-Hi... what are you doing here..?" you asked quietly, trying to find a way to call out to your boyfriend.

"Isn't it obvious? I'm here to take you back. I miss you," he hissed, his voice dipped in poisoned honey.

"Um- I have a boyfriend now... sorry, I gotta go-" you said quickly, hoping to just shove him away and go to the comfort of your boyfriend's arms. But he wouldn't have that. As you started to walk he grabbed your wrist and pulled you to him, taking a fistful of your hair and slamming you onto the wall. You cried out loudly in pain.

Inside the loud gymnasium, where no one else would’ve heard, your boyfriend caught the sound of your voice.

Your ex grabbed your throat and pinned you to the wall, cutting off your air. You tried to pull his hands off of your neck but you were losing oxygen quickly, and you could feel yourself getting weaker by the second.

"I don't care... you're mine. And I can make you mine again."

"Please let go of my girlfriend." a voice suddenly echoed, making the guy jolt. He took your hand off of your neck in surprise, you dropping to the ground as you coughed and gasped for air.

"Who was that?!" He looked around, ready to fight. But there was no one there. Kuroko had already rushed to you, taking your hands in his with worry in his eyes.

"Oh no (y/n)... are you okay?" Kuroko asked with worry in his eyes, gently wiping off the blood on your forehead. Amidst your coughing you managed to croak out a weak "yes", trying to catch your breath. When your ex finally noticed you and Kuroko on the ground, he growled in annoyance.

"Hey! You're interrupting something here!"

"Please leave us alone. You've already hurt her enough." Kuroko hissed. Slowly you lifted your head, catching the expression on his face.

You've never see him so angry.

Even your ex noticed this, the rage that was emitting from the blue-haired teen.

"Jesus- I was just playing around...." he brushed it off, stepping back from the scene and leaving in a rush. Kuroko took a deep breath, shaking his head.

"You need to get to the infirmary (y/n)... can you walk?" he asked softly, putting aside the hair that blocked your eye.

"I-I think so..."

"Then let's go," he said with determination, standing up and reaching a hand to you to help you stand.

"Thank you Kuroko-kun..."

"Of course, (y/n)-chan. I'll always be here to protect you."

"Kuroko-kun?"

"Hm?"

"Why did you show up here alone? I know you know that you couldn't have handled him by yourself..."

"Yes I know... Have you seen these guns?" he gestured to his bicep. You chuckled softly, the two of you making your way to the infirmary.

"You dare lay a hand on my woman?" Akashi seethed. From the looks of it he could almost shoot lasers out of his heterochromatic eyes, approaching the two of you.

"S-Sei..." you croaked out, tears welling up in your eyes as you tried to stay conscious. From his mere voice your ex jolted, turning his head to look at Akashi. Pure bloodlust was radiating from him, and it didn't take longer for the man to release his grip on you.

"Shit- fine! Just- get away from me!" your ex panicked, feeling as if he was about to get eaten by a lion any second. He then ran off, leaving you on the ground.

"(Y/N)...!" Seijuro quickly lifted you into his arms, holding you protectively as he checked on you. You were coughing and wheezing, trying to get as much oxygen back as possible as you held your neck in pain.

"Shh... breathe, my love. Slowly now, deep breaths," he guided you as you calmed down, and eventually you were breathing normally again.

"I should have gotten here sooner... I apologize, my love. I will never allow that to happen again." He said, determined. Akashi stood up with you in his arms, making his way to the infirmary.

"Thank you for saving me Sei..." you croaked shyly, your voice hoarse.

"Do not strain yourself, my love. I will keep you safe."

"What about practice...?"

"Nonsense. You are my priority."

Bonus:

The next morning you saw on the news that a man who was an abuser was taken to jail the previous night. When you saw Akashi at school, you decided to approach him about it.

"Hey, Sei... about my ex..."

"Not to worry, my love. Shall we go to class?" he said rather cheerfully, clearly trying to change the subject.

"Oi!!" Midorima hissed at him, gripping the lucky item in his hand; a glass paperweight.

"Seriously? This guy is your boyfriend? What a dork. What do you even have in your hand?" he laughed, looking between the two of you.

"Let her go, nanodayo."

"Hmm... how about no?" your ex teased, squeezing your neck even tighter. Before he could do anything else, the glass paperweight was thrown at his head. It shattered into pieces as it came in contact, letting you go as you fell to the floor.

Midorima was quick, though, and he caught you just before your head hit the ground. You held your neck in pain, coughing and gagging as you regained your breath. He gently moved your hand aside to inspect your neck, which had black and blue bruises already forming.

"Tsk... (your zodiac sign) came in last today, nanodayo. I only left you for a second and-" he was cut off by you, throwing your arms around him as tightly as you could. Midorima pursed his lips, holding you gently but protectively. A chill ran down his spine, realizing you were shaking.

"That was so scary.." you muttered quietly, hiding your face in his neck. He might not be good at comforting you verbally, but he knew what else he could do. He hugged you tighter, a hand behind your head and stroking your hair gently.

The two of you stayed like that for a while, Midorima letting you calm down in his arms. If there was anything that helped you settle, it was him.

Bonus:

Eventually you calmed down, taking a deep breath as you lifted your head up. The first thing that you saw was Midorima's emerald eyes looking at you with worry. The second thing was your ex, unconscious on the floor.

"Um... what are we gonna do about him?"

"I've been trying to find a solution for that this whole time, nanodayo."

"What the fuck are you doing to my girlfriend, asshole!?" immediately Aomine ran in for a punch, his knuckles landing on your ex's cheek. He cried out in pain, letting you go to get ready for the fight. You fell to your knees, coughing and whimpering in pain.

"You wanna fight, huh? I'll fight you." your ex threatened, cracking his knuckles. But before he could do anything else Aomine landed another punch on him, this time landing on his jaw. With a spin he dropped down to the floor, unmoving.

"You'll pay for that..." he clicked his tongue, rushing to you.

"Oh shit- oh fuck! Hey- breathe!!" Aomine panicked as he saw you, on your fours and wheezing from your injury.

"Come here, just uh- sit down and relax for a bit. That should help, right??" he said, pulling you to him. You sat between his legs, leaning against him as he supported you with his arms. You gasped for air, struggling to catch your breath and fill your lungs.

"Hey just- relax, okay? I got you- I'm here..." Aomine whispered in your ear as an attempt to calm you down and make you better. But uncontrollable tears started to stream down your face, hiding yourself in Aomine's chest. A sharp pang of pain shot through him as he saw you in such a state, hating every moment of it.

"Fuck, I'm so sorry... I'm here with you now, okay? I'll make that fucker pay for what he did to you..." he hissed, hugging you as if shielding you from the world.

"I-I thought I w-was gonna die...! I a-almost blacked out- and... and I couldn't do anything...! I c-couldn't call you...!"

"But you didn't, (y/n). You're here, you're safe. You're alive, and you're with me. You're okay.." he sighed, hugging you tightly. He stood up, carrying you in his arms bridal style.

"Cmon... let's just go home." you agreed for once and nodded, wanting nothing but his presence right now.

"Hey! Get your hands off my girl ssu!!" he shouted at the man, who turned to him and smirked.

"Oho? You managed to score a fucking model?" he turned back to you, laughing a bit as he squeezed your neck even harder. You clawed at his hand and arm, trying to get his grip off of you. But very soon your vision started to obscure and you started to see black.

"That's unfortunate, hmm?" he cooed, watching as you went limp, your hands falling to your side. Kise widened his eyes, rushing to the man and swinging a punch at him. But he dodged it, releasing his grip on you as you fell to the floor.

"You think you can hurt her and get away with it?!" he snarled. Kise grabbed his shirt and punched him hard in the gut and then in the face, with a speed that even your ex couldn't register. The blonde rushed to your side, picking you up gently and holding you.

"H-Hey- (y/n)...! Wake up ssu...!" he panicked, feeling tears welling up in his eyes. Kise put a finger under your nose, a wave of relief washing over him as he felt your breathing. Out of nowhere, Kasamatsu came into the scene, yelling at the blonde.

"Where the hell have you been?! Practice started 10 minutes ago!! What the hell is-" but he was silenced as he saw the scene.

"I'm not going to practice today, Kasamatsu-senpai."

"Then what the fuck are you still doing here?? Go to the infirmary!!" he hissed, pointing at the direction of where you were supposed to go. Kise nodded and carried you, rushing to the nurse's office with you in his arms.

"Hey... that's my (y/n)!!" the purple haired giant hissed, approaching the two of you as he growled in anger.

"A-Atsushi..." you gasped, trying to loosen your ex's grip off of your neck. But your ex in suddenly let go of you, cowering in fear of the mere height of your boyfriend.

"Never touch my (y/n) again!!" he bellowed, his anger echoing through the halls. Your ex cried out in fear, immediately running away from you two.

You sat up and leaned against the wall, catching your breath and holding your neck in pain.

"(Y/N)...!" your boyfriend pouted, kneeling down and pulling you into his arms suddenly, hugging you tightly from behind.

"S-Sushi..." you chuckled slightly, but whimpering in pain. Your voice was hoarse, and it hurt to talk.

"(Y/N)... that was so scary... you're so fragile..." Murasakibara pouted, ruffling your hair and resting his chin on the top of your head. You pursed your lips, snuggling against your giant's hold.

"It's okay (y/n)... I made the bad guy go away. You're okay now.." he said quite childishly, hugging you tighter. You appreciated it nonetheless, smiling softly as you hid yourself within Murasakibara's arms.

[euthymiya]

okay wait how would ayato react to reader having an assassin try to kill her? or if someone tried to kidnap her?

Omg. Okay. I would give you a fic for this but. I can’t say much but something’s coming up one day with something similar so that’s all I’ll say. Hint. Wink.

ANYWAY. I’ll ramble about it to you though.

It happens in broad daylight—everyone knows Ayato is far too smart to let his wife wander alone at night, even within the estates gates. There’s always guards hovering. But in the daylight, sometimes he allows you to walk through densely populated areas alone. The guards will escort you and then let you keep your distance and keep to yourself for a bit. Ayato doesn’t like it, but he understands how hovering it can feel.

But then it happens one day.

Someone who took the opportunity to slip a cloth over your mouth in the bustling crowd. They think no one will notice. That your slip to unconsciousness will be a quiet, easy affair and it’ll be simple after that.

They’re wrong.

Ayato’s guards are well trained. Better trained after you come along, in fact. They have to meet his standards if they want to protect his wife when he’s not around, after all. The man doesn’t make it very far before he’s pinned down to the ground and you’re being carefully held up by two guards.

Hell breaks loose after that. Quietly, of course. Ayato is never one to make a scene of anything, or to make himself known more than he has to be.

He cancels everything when he gets the news. (You beg the guards not to tell him for this exact reason, but they’d never listen to you on a matter so serious.) You come back to the estate with distress clear on his face—brows furrowed and lips a hard line.

“You’ll get wrinkles,” you try to tease. The slight tremor in your hand makes his jaw clench when you rub your thumb between his brows.

“I shall escort you to our chambers. Come with me, my dear,” he’ll say seriously.

Something’s off about his tone. You can hear it, but you’re so tired and shaken up, you let him wrap his arms around you and bring you to your bed, gently settling you under the sheets. He stays until you fall asleep—not more than that, however.

He has other matters to attend to.

And then, after the sun has set and your room is dimly lit, you finally awaken. There’s a small creak of your door opening, making your eyes squint to adjust to the figure of your husband slipping in.

“Ayato?” You whisper.

“Ah, you’re awake,” he chuckles. His tone is still off. “You stay right there, I will return to you once I’ve bathed.”

He’s quick to enter your bathroom—like he doesn’t want you to see something once your eyes properly adjust from their bleariness.

It’s odd, you think. Ayato always insists you join his late night showers. (You always love to deny him just to see him pouty and beg.)

It’s not long before he joins you, wrapping you up in his arms as he presses a kiss to your forehead.

“From now on, I shall accompany you on your strolls myself,” he murmurs. “If you do not enjoy the company of guards surrounding you, surely your husband is not an issue.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, you’re a busy man—”

“It’s alright, my dear. I will find time.” It’s the hint of finality in his tone you’re not used to.

And then you realize. There’s a sharp, deep feeling in your gut that tells you.

“Where did you go today?” You murmur, rubbing his chest. He grabs your hand, kissing your inner wrist.

“I had some matters to handle,” he says vaguely. “There was someone I needed to…speak with.”

And then you know the reason his tone feels different. It’s cold. Dark, even. And something in your head tells you it’s wrong, but everything else in your body just feels so safe, you can’t dwell on it too long.

“Did you manage to finish handling them?” You murmur.

He chuckles, bringing you closer, eyes fondly looking down at you in the dark. “Oh, yes, my dear. I’ve made sure they’re very well handled.”

[shawtuzi]

happy friday lovelies!!! here’s a little plug!eren drabble that’s been sitting in the drafts for idek how long it’s kinda inspired by ari fletchers cooking show lmao i love her

cw include: black coded reader, reader is a youtuber, some swearing, nothing too explicit mostly fluff, drug usage (they’re making edibles lol)

“is my hat straight renny?” you asked adjusting the chef hat on your head for the umpteenth time. eren hummed and tilted the hat a little to the left before giving you a grin, “yep it’s straight now hurry up and start this shit.” you rolled your eyes and quickly ran over to the camera to turn it on. today was a very special video because you were finally going to introduce eren to your thousands of followers!!! and what better way to do that than to have him do his favorite thing with you which is baking ofc. you cleared your throat before speaking, “hello my honey bunches welcome back to my channel! you may be wondering why i have this on,” you pointed to the chef hat, “and that’s because today we’re gonna be baking!! but not just any regular ol’ treats…they’re gonna be infused” you sent a sly wink to the camera making eren chuckle.

he couldn’t help but watch in awe as you talked to your viewers with such enthusiasm like you weren’t running on three hours of sleep and a starbucks strawberry lemonade refresher. “today i won’t be baking alone though i have a very special guest joining me,” you grabbed eren gently by the wrist and pulled him into the frame. eren sent a little wave to the camera muttering out a ‘sup’. you turned to him narrowing your eyes when you noticed he was missing a very important part of his outfit, “umm where’s your hat?” eren groaned throwing his head back like a toddler, “please don’t make me wear it it’ll give me hat hair.” you put your hand on your hip and gave eren the look and within seconds he was putting the chefs hat on with a dramatic huff.

you clapped your hands together and gave the camera a warm smile, “now that we have on the proper attire we can get started! today we’re gonna start simple and make some super yummy infused rice krispy treats, eren and i have already made our ‘butter’ and if you would like to know how to make that let me know in the comment section!” eren held up a small container showing the ‘butter’ to the viewers. “look how good this shit looks how could they not wanna know how to make it? make sure y’all comment down below or else,” you shook your head letting out a sigh, “eren please don’t threaten the viewers.”

eren kissed his teeth before setting the container down, “what’s the first step mama?” he asked leaning against the counter. “first things first we’re going to preheat our stove, eren already preheated ours so—” you stopped dead in your tracks when you realized the stove was in fact not hot. you turned to eren who was whistling and looking at the floor, “eren…” you spoke calmly tapping your manicured fingers against the marble counter. “yes?” he asked giving you them damn puppy dog eyes. “why isn’t the stove preheated? i asked you to do it before we started,” eren was prepared to give you the excuse of a lifetime but you stopped him as soon as the words ‘well what had happened was’ left his mouth.

“ah geez okay well while we wait for the stove to get hot let me tell you a little about my co star here. for those of you who are new here or don’t follow me on insta this is my boyfriend eren! we’ve been together about three years and they’ve been the best years of my life it’s never dull moment with him,” you got on the tips of your toes to give eren’s cheek a kiss making him smile. “he usually stays behind the scenes when i do my videos but today volunteered to join me,” eren laughed a little too loud and you turned to him raising an eyebrow. “what’s so damn funny?” you asked cocking your head to the side. eren put his hand on his hip like he’s seen you do so many times before speaking, “if by volunteered you mean being held against my will to do this then i totallyyyy volunteered.” you slapped his chest making him let out a dramatic whine, “i would like to set the record straight that he is not being held against his will please don’t call paw patrol yall he’s fine.”

after a few more minutes of playful banter between the two of you the stove was finally hot enough to begin baking. eren grabbed the camera and focused in on you but not before holding it veryyyy close to your forehead, “are you having fun ren?” you asked and he nodded with a smile on his face. you let out another loud sigh before getting back to the task at hand. “okayyy first thing we’re gonna do is add our ‘butter’ now don’t be stingy with it but also don’t put a whole lot in there unless you wanna be holding onto the ground for dear life,” you put about two scoops of the faux butter into the pot.

“now just let it melt and when it’s all melted we’re gonna add these!” you held up a bag of pink and white marshmallows when you noticed someone had already gotten into them. “boy you’ve got to be kidding me,” eren couldn’t help but giggle at the exasperated look on your face. “i had the munchies don’t be mad there’s still enough,” you grabbed a handful of marshmallows out of the bag and threw them at eren. you muttered out a ‘okay biggums’ to which eren responded by giving your ass a quick smack. “i heard that shit don’t call me biggums,” you waved him off before walking back to the pot of melted butter.

“alrighty now that our ‘butter’ has melted let’s add some marshmallows!” you poured a decent amount into the pot but not before popping a few in your mouth. “oh you can eat some but i can’t?” eren asked zooming the camera in on your face. you kissed your teeth and shook your head, “your greedy ass got into them before we even started the video i don’t wanna hear nun!” eren turned the camera to himself with a the fakest pout you’ve ever seen on his face, “y’all see how she treats me? she might actually hate me.”

“mhm…okay anyways now we’re gonna slowly mix the butter and marshmallows together until completely smooth,” you grabbed a rubber spatula and began mixing the marshmallows and butter together. eren had gotten so wrapped up in watching you mix he didn’t even realize the camera was now pointed at the ground giving your viewers a nice shot of his pink crocs with sanrio gibbits. “um eren” you spoke breaking him out of his trance. “all my viewers are getting is shot of your big ass feet,” eren let out a quiet ‘oh shit’ before pointing the camera back to you. “well it’s too late i’m already done mixing!” you threw your hands up in defeat. eren pointed the camera back to his crocs, “well as long as i got the camera on them y’all can’t tell me these muhfuckas ain’t hard. we need to normalize men liking sanrio!” eren was possibly the worst cameraman in history.

you grabbed the camera pointing it back to you, “anywayssss now let’s add the rice krispies. the most efficient way to do it without spillage is using a measuring cup,” you added three cups of the cereal to the pot. you turned the oven on low before beginning to mix the ingredients together, “eren it’s getting a little hard to mix, you mind taking over?” eren let out a hum before handing you the camera. “this is the most important part you really wanna get that shit mixed in well,” eren said matter of factly. “then when it’s done we’re gonna bring it over here and pour it into this pan,” eren walked over to the glass dish you had already set out and began to slowly scoop the rice krispy treats onto it.

you set the camera back up and quickly scurried to eren’s side, wrapping your arm around his waist. “we’re gonna let these cool for just a few minutes until then why don’t we answer some questions from the subscribers!” you pulled out your phone and opened your notes app, “eren doesn’t know this but i posted on my sorry a while ago and asked you guys to send in some questions for a potential q&a and that potential q&a is happening right now!” eren grabbed the bag of marshmallows and leant against the counter, “ask me anything you want i’m an open book.”

“the first question is: ‘how did you guys meet?’” eren looked at the ceiling in thought before speaking, “i was selling a particular product she was interested in…i thought she was really pretty so i threw in a little extra and the rest was history.” you swooned when you thought of how you met eren for the first time. it’s insane how intimidating he was the first time you met him now he refers to himself an a “sanrio boy”. “next question is: how did you know you liked me?’”

the corners of eren’s mouth lifted up as he thought of his answer. “well we were at a block party one weekend and i was her ‘date’ everything was going fine till i saw some tool tryna cuddle up to her,” you hunched over in laughter remembering the terrified look on the poor guys face when eren approached him. “to make a long story short i beat his ass, did some reflecting on why i did that, and soon enough i made y/n mine and only mine. next question!” eren popped a couple marshmallows in his mouth obviously proud with his answer.

“okay okay last question for right now: ‘what’s one ick you both have towards each other?’” before eren could open his mouth you piped up with a quick ‘me first!’ eren rolled his eyes popping another handful of marshmallows in his mouth. “my ick is how ugly your feet are,” eren nearly choked on the marshmallows when he heard your answer. “excuse me?!” he yelled tossing the marshmallows aside. you pulled your lips into a line looking in the other direction, “baby you know i think you’re the most gorgeous man on the planet….but your feet are hideous they literally make me nauseous.” eren quickly snatched up the camera and was about to kick off his crocs and socks but you took the camera back just as fast setting it back up, “you are not about to scar my viewers no way sir. now go ahead and tell me you’re ick let’s get this shit over with.”

eren huffed and crossed his arms over his chest, “i was gonna say i had no ick for you but now that you’ve talked shit on my feet i’m gonna have to say my ick for you is how loud you snore!” you gasped at eren’s words your mouth dropping open. “i do nawt snore,” you growled balling your hands into fists. “yeah yeah whatever you say i’m surprised such a loud obnoxious sound can come from someone so cute and cuddly,” you were about to rebuttal but instead you shook your head and calmly got back to the task at hand.

“now that our rice krispy treats are nice and cool now it’s time for the best part: tasting it!” you grabbed a knife and cut out two pieces for you and eren. eren reached to grab one but you quickly pulled your hand away narrowing your eyes, “take back what you said about my snoring.” eren scoffed and got reallll up in your face you couldn’t believe how much audacity he had! “i’ll take that back as soon as you take back the feet comment” you both stared at each other before eren surprisingly broke first. “fine fine! i take it back just gimme the damn treat,” you have him the rice krispy treat and a nice little kiss on the cheek. “isn’t he just the sweetest guys,” you smiled giving eren another kiss on the cheek.

“let’s bite in synch okay one…two…eren!” you were absolutely dumbfounded when eren had taken a massive bite before you even got to three. “these are good nice job baby,” he said with a mouthful of the delicious treat. you took a bite muttering out a ‘thanks’, they were in fact very delicious. so delicious you both ate another and then split one. “we’re gonna take a quick break and we will report back to you when the treats have done their thing!” you turned off the camera and let out a loud sigh when you realized how much editing you had to do meanwhile eren seemed to be in good spirits.

“i think that went well hm?” he smiled wrapping his arms around your waist, giving your forehead a sweet kiss. “do you know how much editing i’m gonna have to do renny? i hateee editing,” you pouted nuzzling your face into his chest. eren shook his head and cupped your face with his hands, gently stroking your cheeks. “let’s not worry about that right now let’s focus on how fucked up we’re about to be we ate probably more than we should’ve,” he said glancing at the half eaten pan of edibles. “oof you’re right let’s worry about that later.”

about two hours later you and eren had somehow ended up on the living room floor both completely blazed out of your minds. “eren….” you mumbled craning your neck to look at him. “y/n…” he said back turning his head to look at you. you cracked a small smile and suddenly both of you burst into a fit of laughter. “we…we gotta finish the video baby,” you giggled sitting up. eren groaned before sitting up as well but as soon as he got up he stumbled and fell flat on his face, “m’gonna lay here a minute.” you gave eren’s ass a smack before getting up, making your way to the camera.

“well besties as you can see those treats clearly worked,” you said zooming in on your bloodshot eyes. you then turned the camera to eren whose face was still smushed into the carpet, “actually they worked a little too well.” you turned the camera back to yourself letting out a small yawn, “well until then stay tuned for my next video i can’t quite remember what it is right now so i guess it’ll be a surprise when i post! catch y’all on the flip side!” you turned the camera off and tossed it on the counter before collapsing next to eren. “good work sweetums,” you mumbled to which he replied with a muffled ‘you too sexy’.

[gerrystamour]

you're in the walls that i made with crosses and frames [gift fic]

Explicit★Steddie★7600 words★Complete

Happy birthday @legitcookie !! I hope it was a lovely one!! And yes, wee collab with @sentient-trash with the art!! ;p Summary: The expression on Eddie’s face was smug, his chest puffing up proudly under Steve’s hungry stare as he reached him. “Careful, Harrington, you’re gonna start catching flies,” Eddie spat venomously as he brushed past, his studded shoulder catching Steve’s arm and almost knocking him off balance. Steve’s mouth snapped shut with an audible click, the muscle in his jaw twitching as he looked away. Honestly, he deserved Eddie’s coldness… Tags & CWs: Break-up, getting back together, semi-public sex, blatant scene theft from Atonement minus the angst, hurt/comfort, love confessions, anal sex, barebacking, Creampie No Condom Nation, top steve harrington, bottom eddie munson

[ READ ON AO3 ]

The sounds of the gala fell away as Steve reached the top of the stairs and rounded the corner he saw Eddie disappear around. The other man was moving fast, already at the end of the hall and turning at the next corner. It was dark upstairs, the wall sconces turned on but kept low, and the live music from downstairs was barely audible through the formidable soundproofing. All Steve could hear as he quickened his steps was the jingling of the chains that adorned Eddie’s outfit.

It had been overwhelming seeing Eddie walk in with his band earlier that evening, in more ways than just the deep-seated ache in Steve’s chest.

Steve had been trying to distract himself without getting hammered while he watched the entrance, forcibly taking his time with the glass of wine Robin had grabbed for him.

“Maybe he won’t show,” Steve said hopefully as the first hour of the gala passed.

“You know he’d never pass up the chance to make your dad shit his pants,” she said blandly, and Steve looked down at her skeptically. She shrugged, raising her eyebrows. “What? Maybe I haven’t actually met ‘im yet, but I think that’s a fair guess.”

“Robin! I need your help!” Vickie materialized out of the crowd next to them, reaching out to touch Robin’s wrist gently. Steve watched with no small amount of amusement as Robin blushed lightly and immediately followed after Vickie, not even waiting to hear the crisis.

Once he was standing alone, he made a point to look around at the other guests, trying not to watch the entrance like a hawk.

It was a charity gala, something that was mostly for Steve’s father to save face after his campaign accepted a donation from an organization with concerning ties to a white supremacist group. John Harrington’s PR team had been insistent that he arrange an event, inviting the spokespeople of a handful of charities that had been trending positively on social media recently.

All but one charity declined the invitation. The only one that accepted the invitation was a charity for homeless queer youths, which Steve knew to be connected to Corroded Coffin. For them to accept the invitation meant that Eddie was absolutely going to be showing up, and he was going to be making a statement.

Despite preparing himself for the moment he saw Eddie again ever since Corroded Coffin returned their RSVP with a giant yes, Steve was still nearly brought to his knees at the sight of him.

At first, Steve didn’t even realize they had arrived, successfully distracting himself with people-watching while some friend of his father’s chattered at him. It was only when the man stumbled over his words and stared over Steve’s shoulder at the entrance that he turned to look.

The first thing Steve noticed was that all four of them were wearing their battle vests or jackets; loud garments adorned with patches, pins, and spikes. Except these particular garments had political statements on them more than they were decked out in band patches. And of course, Eddie’s leather battle jacket was the loudest out of the four with several patches condemning white supremacy, all surrounded by a sea of shiny spikes.

The man practically glittered as he stepped into the light of the foyer.

It wasn’t just the jacket that had enough metal on it to catch the light but there appeared to be several chains adorning his outfit underneath—no, not an outfit, the dress. Eddie actually showed up to Republican Congressman John Harrington’s charity gala in a dress, and Steve had never been more in love with him than he was right that second.

But that was the problem, though—Steve being in love with Eddie.

The voices of the mingling ambassadors, politicians, and investors hushed as more people took notice of the newest arrivals, their expressions sour, some even angry, though it wasn’t lost on Steve the way some of their eyes lingered on the four of them just a bit too long to be strictly disdainful.

From Steve’s vantage point, he could tell that Eddie’s dress was pretty simple except for the chains with a wide neckline that rested at his collarbones, but it looked like there were two slits following each leg and ended quite high on his pelvis. Those had Steve desperate to see Eddie walking with his full stride, to see how the skirt moved around his legs and showed them off. At that distance, Eddie didn’t look too much taller, so Steve was sure he wasn’t wearing heels, but he still had gorgeous legs with tattoos covering almost every inch of his skin. Already, Steve was formulating a plan to get closer to Eddie, wanting to see that dress up close, to see Eddie in that dress up close.

Returning his attention to Eddie’s face, his breath was taken away at how fierce his expression was, the way it was accentuated by the make-up he was wearing—it was his concert make-up, if a bit dialed back since it wasn’t for an arena to be able to see but a slightly more intimate affair. Their current tour had a lot of Satanic overtones to it, so the look was dark, very smoky and gave Eddie’s brow a permanent sort of scowl. Of course, Eddie’s curly mane of dark hair was left down, wild around his face and shoulders and Steve hated that he knew how it would feel to bury his hands in it.

It was then that Eddie’s eyes met his from across the room and a sneer twisted his features. It was pathetic just how much that condescending look did for Steve.

“Carry on, gentlemen,” Eddie addressed the gawking bystanders nearest to them before he began crossing the room in Steve’s direction, granting his wish of seeing that dress move around his legs, and good God, Steve was not prepared for this like he thought he’d be.

Yes, Steve had always been obsessed with the rockstar’s legs, the way they were thicker than one might expect, strong and covered in tattoos. Except all that was visible of Eddie’s legs were his thighs, since he was wearing a pair of knee-socks under his clunky combat boots. The dichotomy of the battle jacket, the dress, and the boots was captivating. It was impossible to look away from the man, even if Steve was worried about how he would react being so close to Eddie again for the first time in weeks.

As Eddie got closer, a flash of red somewhere in Eddie’s outfit caught Steve’s attention and he nearly choked on his tongue. Through the slits in the skirt, Steve could catch a glimpse of whatever underwear Eddie was wearing and Christ, he was pretty sure he saw something red and lacy. Another thing that Steve was able to tell now that Eddie was closer was that the chains on the dress were not actually part of the dress, but attached to a leather harness he was wearing over the dress.

It was one of the harnesses Steve had seen him wear lots of times in the past, though that was often with a lot less clothing and in the dim lighting of the bathroom at a gay club.

The expression on Eddie’s face was smug, his chest puffing up proudly under Steve’s hungry stare as he reached him.

“Careful, Harrington, you’re gonna start catching flies,” Eddie spat venomously as he brushed past, his studded shoulder catching Steve’s arm and almost knocking him off balance.

Steve’s mouth snapped shut with an audible click, the muscle in his jaw twitching as he looked away. Honestly, he deserved Eddie’s coldness.

The last time they saw each other, it was yet another hurried, desperate hook-up. They were sprawled out on the couch in the green room after Eddie’s show in Seattle, the rest of the band already on their way back to their apartments. Eddie was practically naked, since he really only wore a pair of tight, black jeans while performing while Steve was still wearing his entire outfit. Nimble, grasping hands had managed to unbutton Steve’s shirt enough to get to his collarbones, and Eddie made a delighted little sound as he wiggled where he sat on Steve’s cock.

“What?” Steve chuckled breathlessly, tipping his head back as Eddie stooped to kiss and nibble the spot just beneath his collarbone.

“Nothin’,” Eddie crooned as he began to bounce, sighing as he said, “Just my favourite freckle. Looks a little like a heart.”

The comment shot through Steve, and he almost choked on it, the way his heart clenched and how badly he wanted what they had to be more than just casual fucks in back rooms, public toilets, and occasionally the backseat of a limo. It wasn’t a surprise to Steve to realize that he was actually in love with Eddie—hell, he flew out there just to see the rockstar because he knew it was Eddie’s birthday last week.

As they panted for breath, Steve had considered asking Eddie about the comment he made, about the possibility for more. But looking around the room, eyes landing on the battle jacket, and he couldn’t help but remember the way they started this.

It started with something that could only be called hate-sex. Sex that was mean and punishing, that left them both bruised and limping most of the time. The first time they hooked up, Eddie had shoved Steve to his knees so hard he’d needed to wear his old knee brace for a couple weeks.

“Shut the fuck up and put that mouth to good use for once in your life, Harrington.”

Eddie never hesitated to rant about Steve’s father, which was understandable. He felt like he hated his father for the same reasons, too. But there was that knowledge that Eddie hated his father, and John hated Eddie just as much, and—fuck, they were both too famous to keep a relationship secret. They were already pushing it with their little arrangement as it was. Steve was already trying to figure out how he would get out of there without being recognized.

And ultimately, it wasn’t even about Steve’s father, but everything John stood for and his voters, his following. It would be dangerous for Eddie to be with Steve, and even if the rockstar wanted to take that risk on—and he knew Eddie wouldn’t—Steve wouldn’t ask that of him. And mostly, pathetically, Steve just didn’t want the man to fucking laugh at him for catching feelings. Christ, he’d had enough of that to last him a lifetime.

“You have a hotel room?” Eddie asked, still catching his breath as he lifted himself shakily out of Steve’s lap with a grimace. Getting off the couch, he crossed the small room to start turning his pants the right way out.

“Nah, I was gonna fly back out to D.C. on the first flight out and that’s in, like, four hours. Just had to sign some things at our firm here,” Steve fibbed as he watched his cum drip down Eddie’s thigh.

“What are you going to do for four hours?” Eddie snorted, looking over his shoulder with a raised eyebrow before pulling his pants back on.

“There’s a lounge at the airport for me to relax in,” Steve replied easily as he tucked his cock back into his boxer briefs and did his fly back up.

Eddie snorted. “You could crash at my apartment if you’re too stingy to spring for a hotel room,” he said with a derisive eye roll, and Steve’s chest squeezed with want.

With a haughty sigh, Steve stood up and fixed his hair in the mirror. “I actually meant to say something before you threw yourself at me,” he said blandly, and Eddie scoffed. Steve met his eyes in the mirror, and to his dismay the rockstar was grinning in a very real way, his dimples deep and easily visible from outer space.

“Oh, so I threw myself at you, did I? The ego—” Eddie started, and Steve looked back at himself in the mirror.

“I think it’s time we stopped this,” he interrupted, and the silence that filled the room was suffocating.

“What?” Eddie asked, his entire tone changing as his voice raised in disbelief. Steve hated to hear the laughter leaving Eddie’s voice, and he loathed himself for being the one to chase it away.

But he wasn’t strong enough to keep this going when he wanted more, wanted too much.

Steve rolled his eyes with a feigned aloofness, knowing Eddie could see the motion in the mirror. “I said,” he explained slowly, as if he was talking to a child, “that I think it’s time we stopped this.”

“Why?” Eddie demanded, and Steve refused to even glance at him in the mirror again, knowing he would crumble the second he did.

“It’s time I actually settled down, started a family. Plan my future,” Steve replied, bringing back his Trust Fund Baby persona that Eddie hated so much at the start of all this.

There’s another short silence. “You’ve… found someone already?” Eddie asked, his tone almost mocking.

“Maybe,” Steve said easily. It wasn’t a complete lie; he did find someone he wanted to settle down with, it just couldn’t happen. “Can’t really pursue that with you sending me dick pics daily,” he added, voice flat and condescending.

“As if I am ever the first one to send jackshit, Harrington,” Eddie snapped viciously, and only then did Steve look at him. The man was furious, eyes wild with his anger and Steve deserved all of it. If Steve was braver, he would face the ridicule for his honesty rather than hide behind the persona curated for his father. Despite the casual nature of their relationship, Eddie deserved better than being lied to.

Then Eddie’s mouth twisted in a sneer as he said, “What the fuck ever. I hope your miserable ever after with whatever bland, good little Christian girl daddy dearest picked out for you is fucking worth it.”

As if realizing he was still naked for all of that—Jesus, Steve really knew how to make a break-up hurt, if it could even be called a break-up—Eddie hurriedly began pulling his pants back on. Steve looked away, letting Eddie get dressed in some semblance of privacy after embarrassing him as much as he had.

When Eddie was done getting dressed, Steve finally looked at him as he paused at the door of the green room.

“I’ll text you and let you know if the coast is clear,” Eddie said coldly, and Steve’s heart ached at how the other man was still going to help keep this a secret. “After that? Forget my number. If I ever see you at one of my shows again, I’ll kick your teeth in.”

That was the last thing Eddie said to him, and then weeks later they were forced to spend an entire evening in relatively close proximity. Well, Steve was forced by virtue of being a Harrington with a campaigning father; Eddie legitimately chose to come, which was definitely deliberate considering the dress, the harness, and the lingerie. Even the make-up was on purpose, since that was what Eddie had been wearing that night in Seattle.

Steve kept his distance as much as he could, even if he couldn’t keep his eyes off of Eddie, watching him make his way through the crowd, being his charismatic self despite his entire get-up. He and his band were the guests of honour that evening, after all. Watching Eddie constantly, though, meant that he was caught doing so, and every time their eyes met, Eddie would scowl darkly at him.

As the night progressed, Eddie’s anger and disdain began to wear on Steve. He felt stupid and selfish for being annoyed, especially with the way he ended things, but really? All of this anger and hatred just for being dumped by a high-risk booty call?

“You okay?” Robin asked as she appeared beside Steve, tangling her fingers in his and giving his hand a squeeze.

With a huge, relieved sigh, Steve pulled her into a loose hug. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just… it’s a lot seeing him again,” Steve admitted, just loud enough for her to hear.

Robin hummed. “I ran into him earlier, by the way,” she said after a moment, and at that, Steve pulled back without letting go of her completely.

“Did he say anything to you?” Steve asked and Robin shook her head.

“Not really, asked if I was your fiancée, I was like, ‘according to the tabloids’ and then he looked at me like he wanted me dead,” she replied, raising her eyebrows up at Steve. “You sure he only wanted casual?”

“Of course, he did, Robs,” Steve scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Why would he want more with me of all people?”

Robin just looked up at Steve sadly before she stepped away from him. “You okay if I go grab us a couple drinks?” she asked, deciding in a rare move to let something drop.

“Yeah, Robs, thanks,” he said, meaning more than just the drinks and nodding as she turned to walk away.

When Steve looked back across the room toward Eddie, the man was staring at him, and his expression was wrong. It wasn’t the glare Steve had grown used to over the evening, but he was too far away for Steve to even try to read it. Jolting a bit, as if shocked or burned as he realized Steve was looking at him, Eddie said something to his bandmates before turning on his heel and heading up the staircase.

Before Steve even realized it, he was making his way carefully through the crowd, dodging questions and greetings thrown his way until he reached the stairs.

“Steven, speeches are in twenty minutes,” John warned him as he passed.

Without even glancing at his father, Steve waved over his shoulder and took the stairs two at a time.

Now, as he turned the corner after Eddie, Steve paused near the only open doorway. It was the study, which had a massive built-in bookshelf filled with books Steve was fairly certain no one had ever actually read. There was a light on inside and Steve could hear Eddie muttering. Was Eddie meeting someone else up here? Was Steve about to hear Eddie fucking someone else? That thought filled Steve’s veins with ice, that some creep who was schmoozing downstairs and sneering at Eddie less than five minutes ago would be touching him.

No one at this gala deserved to touch him like that.

Again, Steve reacted before he even realized, storming into the study ready to fight if he had to, just to stop short when he realized that Eddie was alone. Not only was he alone, but he looked close to tears, eyes wide and glassy, his eyelashes shiny with them.

“Eds?” Steve finally managed after several long moments of staring at each other. Eddie sucked in a harsh breath, blinking rapidly as he flinched back, and a tear fell down his cheek.

“Don’t call me that,” Eddie snapped, shaking his head and wiping the tear away. “Fuck you.”

“What—why are you crying?” Steve asked, but he didn’t have to. Steve might have been slow on the uptake, but he wasn’t stupid.

“Because you’re happy. I saw all the stupid magazines, and all the bullshit clickbait, and I was so fucking sure you were miserable,” Eddie laughed bitterly, crossing his arms over his chest. He was an imposing figure, even with the tears in his eyes, clothed in leather and metal, almost his entire body hidden under his armor.

As if reading his thoughts, Eddie opened his arms and gestured down at himself. “I wore this just to—I wanted you to be miserable so fucking much, and that you’d see me and feel even fucking worse,” Eddie bit out through clenched teeth, dropping his hands and staring up at the high ceiling.

Steve stepped closer to Eddie and the rockstar shuffled backward, keeping the same distance between them. “I know I ended things badly, Eddie—”

“See, that’s just it, Steve, you didn’t ‘end things badly,’” Eddie practically snarled with exaggerated scare quotes, storming right up into Steve’s space. “You made me feel like you actually wanted me and then you fucking ripped my heart out. You fucking ruined me, and you just left me and you’re happy. You wanted to settle down, and you’re going to get that, when all I wanted was for you to choose me. Why couldn’t you settle down with me?”

Steve stared at Eddie, wide-eyed and holding his breath, the full realization of how much he fucked up in Seattle crashing down on him. He could feel his own eyes stinging, his vision blurring. Steve could’ve had exactly what he wanted all those months ago if he was just braver, and now it appeared he blew it completely. Something softened at the corners of Eddie’s eyes, even if his mouth stayed set in a severe line.

As the silence persisted between them, Eddie tipped his chin up almost defiantly. “Anything to say? At all?” he asked, condescension clear in his voice, but there was something desperate underneath it, something painfully earnest. Something so close to begging, it hurt Steve’s heart to hear it.

And Steve wanted to say that he was sorry, that he should never have done that, that he was a coward and that he would do anything for a chance to go back and stop himself.

“Do you hate me?” Steve asked finally, and he internally grimaced at how childish that question sounded. It seemed to catch Eddie off-guard as well, his wet eyes widening slightly before he laughed hollowly.

“Jesus H Christ, I wish I did,” Eddie said, and his expression was so deeply sad that Steve wanted to just gather him into his arms. “This would be easier if I hated you.”

“I don’t want you to hate me, Eddie, I don’t—I’m not happy,” Steve confessed breathlessly, blinking rapidly as more tears formed, and one fell down his cheek. “I’ve been as miserable as you wanted me to be. I never stopped wanting you. I wanted so much, and I thought it was too much to ask, so I ended things.”

Eddie’s face twisted into something so full of anger that Steve considered stepping out of swinging range, but Eddie just glared at him. “You didn’t even ask me—”

“No, I didn’t. Because what did I have that you’d want? I’m the closeted queer son of a Republican Congressman and you’re… you,” Steve said, his tone far more reverent than he intended as he gestured to all of him. “You’re free, and loud. Proud of who you are and so fucking brave, Eds. You’re an inspiration to so many, and I just—why would you want me?”

Eddie was looking at him with wide eyes, his mouth hanging open as all of his righteous, hurt fury left him. Then Eddie shook his head gently and looked at Steve with an expression that was so unbearably soft, he had to fight to not shy away from it.

“You still want that?” Eddie asked, his voice quiet, nearly a whisper. “Too much?”

“Yes, Eds, I want everything,” Steve breathed, taking a step toward Eddie and lifting a hand to tentatively cup his cheek. This time, Eddie didn’t dodge him or move away, and Steve sighed in relief. “I do want you, to settle down with you. I’ve always wanted you.”

Tipping his chin up in that defiant little nod of his, Eddie took a deep breath through his nose. Steve jolted when cool fingers wrapped around his other wrist and guided his hand to wrap around Eddie’s hip. “Prove it, big boy,” he challenged, his voice low as he tilted his cheek into Steve’s hand.

The hand on Eddie’s cheek immediately shifted until it was tangled into his hair, tilting his head back as Steve crowded him backward against the bookshelf. They hit the shelf with more force than Steve intended, but Eddie only arched his body against Steve harder, eyes wide as he looked up at him. The quiet stretched between them, and Steve stooped as if to kiss the beautiful man in his arms, but he hesitated, still so unsure despite all of Eddie’s confessions.

But then the ghost of a smile, a real one with dimples, twitched the corners of Eddie’s mouth up as he looked at Steve’s lips. When those impossibly dark eyes met his again, Steve was almost too distracted to notice Eddie’s small nod. As Steve leaned down, his lips hovering just above Eddie’s, he savoured the quiet, breathless moment before everything changed again.

In the next breath, their lips were sliding together, gentle and slow, testing the waters as their tongues met in the middle. Sliding his arm around Eddie’s waist, Steve splayed his broad palm and long fingers across his back before grabbing one of the straps of the leather harness. Pulling Eddie in tighter, Steve groaned as he deepened the kiss, licking into the rockstar’s mouth as they clung to each other and rocked their hips together.

Steve pulled back, panting heavily against Eddie’s lips as both of his hands began wandering. “Should we be doing this?” Steve asked, rocking his hardening cock against Eddie’s hip.

“Probably not,” Eddie admitted with a laugh before dragging Steve back into a kiss by his hair. Steve went willingly, sighing as he slipped his hands under Eddie’s dress through the slits, reaching around to grab two handfuls of his perfect ass.

“We should talk,” Steve added, shuddering when his head was pulled back by his hair so Eddie could kiss and bite at his throat.

“We definitely should,” Eddie agreed before lifting his head to meet Steve’s eyes. “And we will, just—please.”

It was the ‘please’ that broke the last of Steve’s restraint. It was the softness of it, the way Eddie’s voice cracked around it, the nearly fearful look in Eddie’s eyes, as if he expected this moment to end just as abruptly as it started. When Eddie said please like that, Steve couldn’t deny him anything.

“Yeah, okay, baby,” Steve breathed, kneading the mostly bare skin of Eddie’s ass before frowning. Squeezing his cheeks again, Steve asked, “Are you wearing assless panties?”

Eddie bit his lips as he smirked mischievously and shrugged. “Technically, I think it’s a jockstrap, but lacy,” he admitted, his face darkening with his blush at the admission.

Groaning thickly, Steve groped his handfuls roughly. “Oh fuck, I have to see this,” he moaned, but when he pulled back and moved to lift the front of the dress, Eddie grabbed his wrists.

“You first,” Eddie whispered against his mouth before kissing him again, and Steve nodded quickly as he returned the kiss sloppily.

Lifting both hands to the shelf on either side of Eddie’s shoulders, Steve waited as patiently as he could, kissing Eddie hungrily as deft fingers undid his belt and fly. When Eddie began shoving his pants and briefs down his thighs, Steve took the hint and toed off his shoes so he could kick his legs free of the garments.

“The coat—lose it,” Eddie demanded, and Steve didn’t hesitate to obey. He removed his blazer clumsily before throwing it vaguely in the direction of the nearby desk. By the time Steve’s hands returned to the shelf, Eddie was fumbling with unbuttoning his shirt. With a grunt, Eddie snapped, “Oh, fuck this.”

Without so much as a pause, Eddie gripped Steve’s shirt on either side of the buttons and yanked, popping every single button off and sending them clattering across the floor. It was hot, leaving Steve breathless with how desperately hungry he was for Eddie. It barely even occurred to Steve that he should be concerned about his shirt being ruined, about how he would return to the gala downstairs without the buttons. When Eddie pressed his hands to Steve’s chest he whined and pushed him back a bit.

“Oh, what the fuck, of course you’re wearing an undershirt,” Eddie complained as he looked down at Steve, his jaw promptly snapping shut with a hard swallow.

Steve felt a bit silly standing there with his cock out in his socks and undershirt, the dress shirt still hanging from his shoulders. He must look ridiculous, especially with the damp patch of sweat on his chest and stomach.

“It’s not fair that you’re somehow hotter when you aren’t even naked,” Eddie grumbled, treating himself to a slow, nearly ravenous look at Steve’s body. His eyes lingered on Steve’s legs, his expression almost pained as he asked, “Steve, are those garter belts for your fucking socks?”

Steve jolted and looked down, shrugging as he looked at the bands around his shins, just below his knees. “Yeah?” he responded, and he hated how lame his response sounded.

“Why?” Eddie asked explosively, and Steve smirked at him as he caught on.

Stepping into Eddie’s space again, Steve slipped a finger under one of the suspenders running down the length of his thigh, pulling it away from his skin a bit. “I think I’m wearing them for the same reason as you, right?” he said teasingly, pressing Eddie back into the bookshelf once again as he released the strap, letting it snap lightly against Eddie’s skin. “To keep your socks up?”

Eddie groaned thickly, arching against Steve desperately. “No, you asshole, I wore mine to drive you in-fucking-sane,” he admitted as he smoothed his hands up Steve’s stomach and onto his chest, thumbing his nipples teasingly through the fabric of his undershirt. When Steve jolted, Eddie let out a breathy chuckle and swept his hands back down to slowly, torturously, push it up past Steve’s chest.

“Well, mission accomplished, I guess,” Steve sighed through another groan as Eddie’s hands resumed playing with his nipples. Groaning, Steve stooped and crushed their lips together, his hands finding their way back under Eddie’s dress to grope his ass again.

“Can you take off your battle jacket, Eds?” he asked breathlessly when he pulled away, and Eddie hesitated, slowly opening his eyes to search Steve’s face. After a moment, Eddie nodded once and reached into a pocket to pull out a chain of condoms and a packet of lube before shrugging the jacket off and tossing it onto the desk nearby.

The sight of Eddie’s shoulders beneath the jacket was captivating; Steve hadn’t realized that the neckline of the dress was so wide he’d have a mostly unobstructed view of Eddie’s shoulders and throat. The only thing that interrupted the pale expanse aside from a couple visible tattoos was the collar of the harness. The sleeves of the dress were long and fit snugly all the way from shoulder to wrist, the dark, stretchy material accentuating the lithe muscle underneath. With a steadying breath, Steve turned his attention to the items Eddie had removed from his pocket, and he couldn’t help the way his eyebrows shot up.

At Steve’s expression, Eddie rolled his eyes and dropped the lube and condoms on the shelf above his shoulder, his cheeks actually turning pink under his gaze. “Don’t look at me like that. Yes, I came prepared to get fucked tonight, and yes, before you ask, I hoped it would be you,” he grumbled in a rush, pulling Steve back against him and tilting his mouth up for a kiss and Steve couldn’t deny him even if he wanted to.

Everything else fell away as their lips moved against each other, desperate and frantic, their teeth clacking together until they found their rhythm with each other again. Pulling away from Eddie’s mouth, Steve kissed his way down his cheek and the thick column of his neck, kissing and biting until the pale skin was littered with marks before moving to give the same treatment to Eddie’s shoulders.

Steve would have spent the rest of the evening like that, just kissing and biting until Eddie was so thoroughly marked that neither of them could pretend this was just another meaningless hook-up. Just like Steve had never been completely naked in front of Eddie, they had also successfully refrained from giving each other hickeys, from marking each other up and raising questions.

“Steve, please,” Eddie whined, and Steve sighed at the plaintive cry, rocking his hard cock against Eddie’s. “Fuck, Steve, enough teasing, we don’t have all night.”

Lifting his head, Steve recaptured Eddie’s lips, moaning against him as they ground their cocks together, the only thing separating them being the layers of Eddie’s dress and jockstrap. Fuck, Steve wanted to see him in just the jockstrap, but Eddie was right; they didn’t have all night.

Sliding one hand down the back of Eddie’s thigh, Steve hooked his hand under his knee and lifted his foot off of the ground, directing him to hook the clunky heel of his boot over one of the lower rungs of the ladder next to them. One of Eddie’s hands flew up to hold onto the ladder as well, lifting himself up just enough to wrap his other leg around Steve’s waist. It was frenzied as they made out and rutted against each other like that, moaning filthily into each other’s mouths.

Reaching down between them, Steve quickly pulled the front section of the dress out of the way, tossing the fabric over Eddie’s leg before looking down at the lace jockstrap. The sound that left him at the sight of the sheer fabric straining around the bulge of Eddie’s hard cock would have been embarrassing if Steve had the capacity to care about anything beyond fucking Eddie. There was a shiny, wet spot on the red lace at the tip of Eddie’s cock that Steve desperately wanted to taste, to wrap his lips around the head through the fabric and suck and lap at the precum that formed there.

Groaning, Steve shifted one of his hands on Eddie’s ass, slipping his fingers deeper and froze as his fingertips found the flared base of a plug. The thought of Eddie walking around the entire night with a plug in his ass was something Steve would be revisiting in his dreams repeatedly, he was sure.

“Jesus, Eds,” Steve practically growled against Eddie’s mouth, hooking his fingers under the flare and tugging at the toy, just to hear Eddie whimper. “You’ve actually been wearing this all night?”

“Already told you, was ready to be fucked,” Eddie gasped, his eyelids fluttering as Steve pulled on the plug a bit more deliberately until it popped free of his hole. Steve happily swallowed the cry that spilled from Eddie’s throat, groaning as he pressed two fingers into his twitching, slick hole. The sound that ripped from Eddie was wounded, high and reedy and nearly sad, and Eddie dropped his head back against bookshelf. “Please, Stevie, don’t be a fucking tease.”

“Okay, okay, I’ve got you, baby,” Steve breathed, and when he tried to put some space between them to put a condom on, Eddie’s leg tightened around his waist. “I can’t put the condom on like this.”

“Forget the condom, just fuck me,” Eddie demanded, and Steve chuckled sadly.

There was a time when they could just do that because despite the allegedly casual nature of their relationship, they were both exclusively sleeping with each other. At the time, they both explained it away as being too busy and too famous to mess around with more people. In hindsight, it was all stupidly obvious they were both in it far deeper than they were willing to admit. Steve hadn’t been able to get back out in the scene since the split-up in Seattle—hell, he hadn’t even been looking for anything when Eddie had fallen into his lap the first time either, months ago at a different charity event, at the start of his father’s campaign. But Steve couldn’t expect Eddie to have stayed celibate, too.

“Eds, we haven’t—” Steve started, and Eddie looked him directly in the eye.

“I haven’t fucked anyone since our Seattle show,” he said meaningfully, his gaze unwavering. “Have you been tested?”

Steve let out a soft, sad sound, faced again with how badly he hurt Eddie, how poorly he read the entire situation. He’d truly done a number on Eddie, and Steve thanked whatever higher power that was listening for his second chance.

“Haven’t been with anyone since Seattle either,” Steve said, leaning forward to kiss Eddie’s lips sweetly.

Eddie scoffed at that and turned his face away, but Steve could tell he was grinning behind his hair. Grabbing the lube, Steve tried to pull back again so he could slick his cock up properly, but Eddie was still clinging to him too tightly.

“C’mon, Eds, just let me get my cock nice and slick, then you’ll have me, okay?” Steve sighed against Eddie’s ear, living for the way the man shuddered and moaned.

When his leg loosened enough for Steve to rock back, he poured a liberal amount of lube over his cock. Before Steve could finish putting the lube back on the shelf, one of Eddie’s cool hands wrapped around his cock. The moan that was punched out of him was deep and guttural, the sensation of a partner—of Eddie touching him again, fingers of a guitarist and clunky rings driving Steve wild.

Before Steve could really register it, he was fucking Eddie’s tight fist, pressing breathless, open-mouthed kisses against the sharp line of his jaw and groaning. Distantly, Steve could feel the touch changing, that Eddie wasn’t squeezing him as tightly, and then the head of his cock was nudging just behind Eddie’s sac, sliding further back and catching on the rim of his hole. On one pass, his cock slipped inside, just the tip, and Eddie dragged him closer with his leg around Steve’s waist.

Eddie’s cry as he was filled, hard and fast, was loud in the quiet of the study and Steve struggled to hold still, groaning thickly at the tight, perfect heat around him. Part of him wanted to take, the way he knew Eddie loved it, the way they would always have it before. But this was different, Steve knew that just on principle, but there was a certain charge to the air that brought tears to his eyes. Steve would wait a thousand years before moving if Eddie asked him to.

A cool hand cupped Steve’s cheek, smearing lube across his stubbled jaw and lifting his gaze to meet Eddie’s again.

Eddie’s eyes were shiny and bright in the dimly lit room, tears collecting on his lower lashes and so close to falling, his kiss-bitten, red lips hanging open and panting.

“Stevie,” Eddie breathed, the corners of his mouth ticking upward in something close to a smile, even as the next fluttering blink had the tears barely clinging to his lashes falling down his cheeks.

And Steve was helpless, staring up at the beautiful man in his arms, and he had to blink his own tears away as they blurred his vision. “Eds,” he said, not even bothering to hide just how awed and overwhelmed he was to have Eddie like this again. Steve made a promise to himself that he would make up for every single day he made this man feel unwanted, unworthy, unloved.

As if hearing his thoughts, Eddie sobbed and dropped his hand to Steve’s shoulder, pushing his undershirt aside to brush his thumb over a spot just below his collarbone—Eddie’s favourite freckle, the one that looked like a heart. 

“I love you, Stevie,” Eddie whimpered after a few moments of breathless staring, lowering his lips to hover over Steve’s.

“I love you, Eds,” Steve gasped immediately, breathless with the intensity of his feelings, and closed the distance between their lips.

They slotted together perfectly, Steve buried to the hilt inside him, their mouths moving languidly against each other while Eddie adjusted. After what felt like only a few seconds, Eddie lifted himself as much as he could before dropping back down on Steve’s cock with another cry.

It was as if a dam broke. The pace was frantic, fast, brutal even with Steve’s desperation and Eddie’s willing body, the sounds of bare skin slapping together filling the study and likely perfectly audible from the hallway if anyone wandered in this direction.

“Steve, Stevie, fu—fuck, Stevie, so good,” Eddie sobbed brokenly against Steve’s lips, not even pulling back to try and get a hand between them to touch himself. “Already so close, been so close all night. Please, Stevie, give it to me.”

“Gonna, baby, promise,” Steve gasped, and when Eddie’s hand flew up to hold onto a higher shelf, he reached up to tangle their fingers together. “Gonna give you everything you want, forever, never letting you go without ever again.”

Eddie sobbed and nodded furiously. “Damn right you a—ah, fuck, you are,” Eddie whimpered, readjusting his grip on the ladder to meet Steve’s thrusts, sweet little sounds getting punched out of him with every snap of their hips. “Never getting rid of me.”

“Perfect,” Steve grunted, the coil in his gut pulling taut as his release barreled forward. He could feel the way Eddie was clenching around him, knew he was barely hanging on, trying to outlast Steve.

“I’m your—oh! Your problem now,” Eddie added, throwing his head back with a shuddery cry as Steve changed the angle of his thrusts a bit.

“I’m yours, too,” Steve sighed almost dreamily as he thought about it, of a future together, maybe living out in Seattle in the eccentric little apartment Steve had only seen snapshots of in the various selfies Eddie had sent him. Of growing old together. Tears stung Steve’s eyes, which he tried to blink away again but there were too many. “I’m your problem, too,” he repeated weakly, his movements growing erratic as his release boiled in his gut.

“Yeah, yes, Stevie! Mine, you’re mine, mine,” Eddie keened, pulling his hand away from Steve’s so he could hold his cheek, wiping the tears from Steve’s cheek. “Say it, Stevie. What are you?”

“Yours,” Steve breathed, eyes rolling back as he willed his release back.

Eddie’s brief composure shattered, and he let out a loud whimper. “And what am I, Stevie?”

“Mine,” Steve answered immediately and angled his cock just so, driving the head of it directly over Eddie’s prostate and sending him tumbling over the edge with a surprisingly quiet cry considering how noisy he had been. Though Steve wasn’t looking, he could tell Eddie made a mess of them already, could feel the hot spend through the lace against his lower abdomen. 

The tight heat of Eddie’s core spasming and clenching around Steve’s cock was the last straw. Steve only managed a few more sloppy thrusts before he was coming, hips flush against Eddie’s ass and spilling his cum deep inside him.

They clung to each other while they caught their breath for what felt like hours, kissing each other slow and sweet, practically chaste after everything else they had done together. Eventually, Eddie pulled away, tipping his head back to look down at Steve, biting his lip and grinning.

“Can you say it again?” Eddie asked after a bit, his voice shaking nervously.

Steve grinned up at Eddie, lifting a hand to cup his cheek gently. “I’m yours, you’re mine,” he sighed dreamily. “I love you, Eddie Munson.”

“Jesus, I’m not gonna survive this,” Eddie half-laughed, half-sobbed as tears filled his eyes all over again. “I love you, Steve Harrington.”

It was that moment when they heard a gasp from the doorway of the study, and Steve froze. Eddie held onto him, not letting him pull away, but also not letting him turn around.

“Take a picture. It’ll last longer, sweetheart,” Eddie sneered, and whoever it was just squeaked and quickly retreated from the room.

Steve took a slow breath in through his nose. “Who was that?” he asked slowly, watching Eddie’s face closely as he grimaced.

“Listen, I’ve met her only twice, and both times I was distracted by you—”

“It was my dad’s assistant, wasn’t it?” Steve asked flatly and Eddie cringed.

“Yep,” Eddie confirmed, chewing his lip nervously.

Steve sighed, and nodded, and he was thankful there was an event happening downstairs because that was the only reason John wasn’t already storming into the room.

“What’re we gonna do?” Eddie asked, and Steve smiled up at him, willing his nerves away.

“Let’s go back to my place. Get you all cleaned up, maybe make love to you in a bed for once? Perhaps wake up next to you in the morning?” Steve suggested, grinning broader as Eddie flushed and turned his face away.

“I meant right now, Steve,” Eddie said, shifting where he was still pinned against the bookshelf.

“Yeah, so did I,” Steve said, his expression softening. “Seriously, Eds, let’s go back to my place.”

“You’re just—You’re okay going down there? With your dipshit dad probably knowing about us?” Eddie asked incredulously, eyes wide and hopeful.

“Yep. No time like the present to get disowned, right?” Steve said, and even if he worded it like a joke, he was dead serious. Eddie seemed to believe Steve this time, and a smile split his face.

“As if your piece of shit dad won’t figure out a way to spin this for his campaign,” Eddie teased and lowered his mouth to Steve’s for a slow, contented kiss. When Eddie pulled back, he grinned mischievously. “You should wear my coat out, and I’ll wear yours.”

Steve’s eyes lit up and he nodded quickly. “You’re a genius, Eds,” he sighed, leaning up to recapture Eddie’s lips.

[ READ ON AO3 ]

[ereardon]

In The Skies || Ch. 2

[Major John "Bucky" Egan x Reader]

Overview: On a night out in London, you meet fellow American Major John “Bucky” Egan of the 100th. As war rages on, you take a leave of absence during the spring of your third year at Oxford to sign up as a nurse on the front lines in England. Time and time again, you and Bucky find yourselves thrown together in the hospital ward as you tend to him and his teammates after missions gone awry. What happens when you find yourself falling for a man who might never return from the skies? 

Pairing: Major John “Bucky” Egan x Reader

Chapter summary: Six months after you first meet Major Egan, he shows up at the bedside of Sergeant Quinn who just happens to be your patient. Sparks fly, again.

Warnings: Smut, alcohol, cursing, definitely historical inaccuracies

WC: 2.8K

Masterlist here

“Nurse? Nurse!” 

Your head shot up, legs unfolding beneath you before you even realized, carrying you down the narrow hallway of the hospital, the floors squeaking beneath your shoes, a mixture of blood and urine and saline and muddy footprints all blurring into one. 

“It’s his leg!” You skidded to a stop in front of a man writhing in pain. 

“Morphine,” you said, nodding at the girl to your right who reached into her pocket, fingers returning with a small clear vial that you grabbed, driving it into the flesh of his thigh. The man let out a shriek, followed by blissful silence as you surveyed the scene. A severe bleed and a cracked tibia. The bone hadn’t shattered through the skin but you knew it was bad just by the way it was bulging against the flesh. “Over there,” you pointed at a gap against one wall. “I’ll get the surgeon.” 

They wheeled him away and you made your way through the maze of beds and walkways, eyes wide, a few strands of hair sticking to your temples. It was hot, too hot for how early in the year it was. Early June. You should have been graduating from Oxford. Instead, you spent your days nursing soldiers back to health, sending them back to the battlefield with missing limbs and poorly patched scars and wounds on their souls that would never heal. And somehow, it felt better than any degree ever could. 

“Dr. Peters!” Your voice rang out in the dingy corridor and the surgeon turned. He was short, with tight, dark curls and a pair of glasses that teetered on the edge of his nose. 

“Nurse,” he said, “what is it?” 

“Patient, Doctor, broken tibia.” 

“Are you sure?” 

You nodded. “Yes. I just did a visual exam, no x-ray, but I’m positive.” 

Dr. Peters eyed you. In the three months you had been stationed at Stoke Military Hospital in Devon, you hadn’t been wrong once about a patient. He knew that. The doctor sighed and put his hands in his lab coat pockets. “Alright. Show me this man.” 

***

“Y/N? Isn’t your shift done?” 

You shrugged, wiping your hands on a cloth before sticking it back in the pocket of your apron. “An hour ago, I don’t know. Still have to see Lieutenant Davies.” 

Anna raised an eyebrow. “I’ll see you at home?” 

“See you at home.” You rounded the corner and smiled. “Lieutenant Davies?” 

The gentleman on the gurney looked up with a grin. “Ma’am.” 

“How are you feeling tonight?” you asked softly, stepping closer. 

“Good as a man with one arm can be.” 

“You always keep good spirits. I like that about you.” 

“Go out with me, won’t you?” 

You laughed. “Now Lieutenant, we’ve been over this before. I don’t date patients.” 

“Won’t you make an exception?” he asked, brown eyes glittering. “Just this once? For all you know, I could be the best date you’ve ever had!” 

“Oh I bet you would be,” you said, ringing out a washcloth in a nearby basin and pressing it gently to his forehead, dragging it down the side of his face, washing his neck carefully. His soft eyes never left yours. “But that wouldn’t be fair to all the other men, now would it?” 

“Screw them,” he murmured and you laughed. “What do you say, darlin’? You and me, let’s get out of here.” 

You shook your head, dipping the washcloth once more and pressing it over his bare chest. “You’re forward, aren’t you?” 

“War taught me anything, it’s that we all die someday. Gotta make the most of every day that’s left.” 

“Amen,” you whispered, setting the rag down back in the pan. “I’m going home now. You be good, alright?” 

Davies grinned. “Aren’t I always, darlin’?” 

You chuckled, making your way down the hallway toward the doors when they burst open, a flash of night sky visible through the open doors before they swung shut. Everything in the hospital was a rush. Triage and move on. But you had long-term patients as well. Men who were there for days, weeks, even months. Ones who weren’t healthy enough to go home, and not whole enough to go back to battle. Men who had seen loss. Men who had nothing left to fight for. 

“Y/N?” A voice from your left startled you out of your thoughts. 

“Yes?” 

“Are you headed home?” 

“Just about.” 

“Can you do me a favor?” Jolene tipped her head to one side. “A patient in bed fourteen. Came in earlier today. Having a hard time sleeping. Think he just needs someone to sit with him and I’ve been here for going on twenty hours.” 

“Go home,” you insisted, practically pushing the girl out the door. “I’ll take it. What’s his name?” 

“Quinn.” She flushed. “Thank you. I owe you.” 

“Don’t worry about it.” You took a look around the room, spotting the bed that Jolene had mentioned. “Hi there,” you said quietly, inching toward the bed. “Lieutenant Quinn, is it? I’m Nurse Y/N.” 

The man who looked up at you was pale, practically ghostly. He had diminutive features, a small nose that curved upward, eyes that gapped at you from the hollows of his sockets. “Sergeant,” he croaked. There was sweat beading his forehead, his upper lip, the visible bones of his collar. “You’re promoting me.” 

You smiled, grabbing for a washcloth and pressing it to his forehead gently. “Sergeant Quinn,” you replied. “How are you feeling?” 

“Not bad, ma’am.” 

“Now don’t you go lying to me,” you reprimanded him. 

“Not good,” he said after a moment. “Feel cold. And dizzy. It’s like everything in my brain is static.” 

You pulled away the washcloth and sat down on the thin cot next to his leg. Quinn looked up, eyes wide. “What brought you here, sir?” 

“Got shot in the side,” he whispered. “Running from enemy fire.” 

“Are you a pilot?” 

“No, ma’am. I just fly with them.” 

“I met a pilot once,” you said. The memories of Bucky flooded your senses. The way his touch felt against your bare skin. The bristle of his mustache as he kissed you. You shook the memory out of your mind. You had been a different person, seven months before. Back then, war hadn’t felt so real. It was tangible now. It crept into every thought, it had made its way into every atom in your body. You were no longer a girl. You were a nurse. You were part of the war effort. 

“Oh yeah?” Quinn said, teeth chattering. “Maybe I know him.” 

You smiled. “Maybe.” You reached out, brushing one hand over his cheek, thumb stroking his sullen face gently. “Jolene said you’re not sleeping. How come that is?” 

“Every time I close my eyes,” he whispered, “I see them.” 

“See who?” 

“Them,” he murmured. “All the men we lost.” 

There was a type of pain in his voice that you hadn’t known until you joined the hospital. Now it was the only tone you could hear. It saturated every word that was spoken under this roof. “You try and sleep,” you whispered, settling down into the chair next to his bed and reaching out, taking his frail hand in yours. His was dirty, but yours was caked in dried blood as well. “I’ll stay here so you’re not alone.” 

“You don’t have to do that.” 

“Yes, I do,” you replied. “Now close your eyes.” He closed his eyes, and you did too. The next thing you knew, it was the morning and your neck was bent to one side. Your eyes opened, trying to place where you were. And then the scent hit. It was as familiar as the smell of the ocean or a new book. 

Death. 

Sergeant Quinn was asleep on the bed and you dropped his hand gently, standing up, careful not to wake him. He looked peaceful. You took a mental picture of him. That was the best you could do, you had realized. Remembering them at their best was the only way to make it through the hard days. 

The flat you shared with two other girls, both nurses, was small and tidy. You spent as little time there as possible. Not because you didn’t like it, but the only place that you felt at peace was at the hospital. Doing your part. Helping people. All of the trivial things that had mattered so much less than a year before had vanished. You stopped wearing as much makeup or caring as much about how your hair was set. You had given up pantyhose entirely. You were a different girl than you had been. 

Back at the hospital, the stench of decay and the sharp bite of stringent solutions nipped at your nose. At first it had been jarring. Now it was simply familiar. The hustle and bustle no longer felt out of the ordinary. If anything, laying down to go to sleep at night felt uncomfortable in its near silence. 

“Jolene.” You stopped the girl with one hand against her arm. She swiveled around. “How’s Sargeant Quinn?” 

She smiled. “Good. Better. Says you were the one who got him to finally rest.” 

“I tried.” 

“Few of his friends from his unit stopped by, but you should check on him. Think it would make him feel even better.” 

“I will.” You weaved around the corridors, past incoming traumas: soldiers on gurneys, soldiers limping, ones with bandages across their faces and arms and necks. Every one you gave a sympathetic look. “Sergeant Quinn,” you said, rounding the corner where his bed sat. 

Four heads turned. Three men in uniform standing in a semicircle turned and your eyes scanned them quickly before doing a double take, backtracking to the man on the far left next to Quinn’s bedside. His warm eyes flashed in recognition. 

“Y/N,” he breathed out and you felt your breath catch in your throat. 

“John,” you whispered. The room, so crowded and cloying and loud, suddenly felt very still and very quiet. Just you and Major Egan standing beneath a street lamp on a bitingly cold London evening. 

He stepped forward and you saw how even over the course of half a year he had aged. Tiny crows feet in the corners of his eyes. There was a hollowness, too. He placed your hands in his. “You’re a nurse? What about Oxford?” 

“I deferred my last semester,” you replied quietly, suddenly aware of all of the eyes on the two of you. “To help.” 

He smiled, his fingers squeezing yours. “So you’re the fantastic nurse that Quinn here won’t stop yammering on about.” 

From the bed, Sergeant Quinn blushed. “Bucky, I didn’t know.” 

You shook your head. “Nothing to know, Sergeant. Major Egan and I met a few months back. Looks like you weren’t lying when you said you were in good hands.” The memory of that one night with John brought a tingle between your legs. He grinned. 

“Are you working?” Bucky asked. 

“Always,” you replied candidly. “It never stops, you know. It’s a constant revolving door of injured men.” 

His eyes darkened. “I know.” His mouth shifted into a smile. “Take a walk with me.” 

“I have some patients to check on,” you whispered. “How long are you here?” 

“Few days,” he replied. 

“Meet me for dinner.” You listed off a restaurant nearby and Bucky nodded. 

He squeezed your hand one more time before dropping it. “I’ll be there.” 

You smiled at Sargeant Quinn. “Now I’m going to have to ask you boys to leave so I can clean the Sargeant’s wounds and replace his bandages.” 

Bucky and the two other men exited the makeshift room and you felt a shiver work its way up your spine. 

You had thought you would never see Major John Egan ever again. 

***

Normally time in the hospital sped forward, like a clock that was wound too tight. But waiting for the sun to set so you could meet Bucky felt like it was taking an eternity.

You were fixing a dressing on a soldier when Jolene popped out around a corner. “Y/N?” 

“Yeah?” 

She tipped her head to the side. “Heard there was a handsome Major here earlier asking all about you.” 

You tried to hide your grin. “Gossip.” 

“I love gossip,” she replied and you laughed. “Does that mean Lieutenant Davies is on the market?” 

You raised an eyebrow. “What happened to not getting involved with patients?” 

“He’s so charming!” 

“He is,” you replied, wiping your hands on your apron and standing up straight. “They all are.” 

“So this Major?” she asked as the two of you made your way down the hall. “How well do you know him?” 

“We only met once,” you said. “Just before Christmas, at a bar in London.”

“And?” 

You grinned and hid it behind one hand, faking a yawn. “And nothing. He’s a gentleman. He’s taking me to dinner tonight.” 

Jolene shrieked and a few patients turned their heads. You shushed her but it was no use. She was practically giddy. “God, you’re lucky,” she whined. “Ask if he has a friend, why don’t you?” 

“He has a best friend who is also a Major,” you said and her eyebrows shot up. “But don’t get too attached. He’s engaged.” 

She sighed. “All the good ones are.” 

“Not all the good ones.” 

Jolene squeezed your hand. “You go have fun. I have it covered here.” 

“You sure?” 

“Yes. Go!” She practically pushed you out of the door. 

***

When was the last time you had dressed up? Worn something other than a blood-soaked apron and saddle shoes? 

When was the last time you had gone on a date? 

Probably at Uni, but even then the lines were blurry. Was studying together over a tea equivalent to a date? Or a formal where everyone was required to attend? You couldn’t remember the last time you had felt the way you did that night in Bucky’s arms. 

Safe. 

You were late, hair pulling out of the messily placed pins, the neckline of your dress slightly crooked. As you whipped into the restaurant, peering around, you spotted John with a grin on his face, his eyes planted on yours. 

He stood as you approached the table and leaned over, pressing his lips to your cheek, one hand on the back of the chair, letting you settle into it before he pressed it inward. 

“Hi.” There was something so sincerely innocent about the way he said it. Almost shy. 

“What brings you to town, Major?” 

“A mission,” he replied. “Or the end of one, I guess.” 

“Sergeant Quinn. He’s quite impressed by you.” 

“He’s a good guy.” 

“He said you’re the better guy.” 

Bucky paused before lifting his glass of wine to his lips and taking a slow sip. Then, “I’ve thought a lot about you. Since that night.” 

“Had to send a fellow American off to war the only way I knew how.” 

His eyes darkened. “It was more than that, Y/N.” 

“What are you saying, Major Egan?” 

Bucky tipped his head. “I’m saying I haven’t stopped thinking about you, sweetheart. That not a day goes by where I haven’t wondered if I would ever see you again.” 

“Must have made an impression, then,” you whispered. 

His eyes were glued on yours. “Go out with me.” 

You laughed. “We’re on a date right now!” 

“Tomorrow,” he replied instantly. “And the night after that.”

“Let’s see how the date goes first,” you replied, “before we go making plans.” 

He shook his head. “Don’t need to wait to know what I already do. Which is that you’re the woman for me, Y/N.” 

“John,” you whispered, a blush creeping up your neck. “You’ve known me a total of two days. You can’t say something like that.” 

“I was five years old the first time I saw an airplane,” he replied. “And do you know what I thought?” 

“That you wanted to be a pilot.” 

He nodded. “Yes. The first time I ever saw a plane I knew that’s how I was going to spend my life. In the skies.” 

“You based your entire career, your whole life, around one glance at the sky when you were a child?” 

“I knew in my heart, with every inch of my body, that it was what I was meant to do.” He paused. “It’s how I felt when I saw you again earlier today. Something clicked. Something said this was right.” 

“You have to give me a second to process this,” you whispered. “I haven’t seen you in six months. And here you are, saying what exactly?” 

His fingertips met yours across the table. “All I know is that I knew the first time I saw a plane that it was going to change my life.” His eyes met yours. “And that’s how I feel now, looking at you.” 

Tagging some people I think may enjoy this:

@gretagerwigsmuse @gigisimsonmars @iangiemae @tgmavericklover @sunny747 @perfectprettypisces @na-ta-sh-aa @ryebecca @kmc1989 @spinning-away @yorkshirekiwi @clancycucumber230

#masters of the air#mota#john bucky egan#masters of the air series#major john egan x reader#bucky egan x reader#callum turner

[captain-mj]

I would honestly kill a man for more selkie Soap (with the side bonus of changeling Ghost if you would) it's such a good concept I love it

Continuation of this post! Also, yes, I realized after posting that I didn't explicitly say Ghost is a changeling, but in all of the Selkie Soap stuff, Ghost has been a changeling. 

"So. Yes, in a way? Selkie marriage is a bit different."

"Different how?" Soap slipped his coat on, relief flooding through him like his own blood in his veins.

"Well... it's not a contract for one. Both parties don't have to be aware. Your heart just... belongs with him until you can undo it."

"Ah..." So nothing really changed for him. "Understood. My coat is safe with me. I was injured and asked him to grab some things. He... He put it on... Should I..."

"Don't be too harsh on him. A lot of people feel the draw to it. He gave it back which proves he wasn't malicious. You just have to have him let you go."

"Let me go... Yeah. I can... I can do that." Shouldn't be too hard. Just get Ghost to call them friends or something. Some dumb thing that would imply they're not married. Fae rules. Twist a person's word to whatever you want.

"Stay safe out there. Want you to come home to me on your leave."

"I will, Ma. I promise." Soap smiled. "It's nice to hear your voice."

"You should call me more often. Maybe we can talk more about mystery man you have a crush on."

"Ma, he is my superior officer. Nothing will happen."

"He's also your husband." She teased gently.

"How dare you." Soap groaned before talking to her about other things. Unfortunately, being that he was injured, he ended up having to cut the call early, exhausted.

He slept a lot the first day and thanks to his coat, it was pretty nice sleep. Except for the fact that it made him dream of Ghost.

Every.

Fucking.

Dream.

It had to be the magic spouse thing going on because his dreams never made sense before. The first started normal for him, weird discombobulated scenes that barely strung together and then... Ghost entered. He held his hand and they talked like normal.

Soap couldn't get dream Ghost's laughter out of his head. Despite all their jokes, he had only ever gotten a huff out of him. He didn't think it was because he wasn't funny, he was and he leaned into Ghost's shitty humor so he knew it wasn't that, but just because Ghost didn't laugh. Ghost also didn't cry. He didn't show his face. All known and accepted facts.

The second dream started off weird. He didn't dream of being in the ocean often. But there he was! Normal selkie behavior, craving the sea.

And there Ghost fucking was. in the water with him. Dark eyes that reminded him of the fucking deep staring at him. Even in his dreams, Ghost wore that stupid skull mask.

And that led him to the one he just had. Ghost's mouth on his neck, hand in his pants. He was in the medbay, trying very hard to ignore that he was harder than he had been in months from that simple of a dream.

Fucking hell. That goddamn idiot just had to put on his coat. Had to bind them together like this.

He thought of him and tried to stay mad but it was difficult. Ghost really didn't know and he gave it back and...

Soap groaned in frustration. He needed to get out of the hospital and unmarried.

"Johnny?"

Speak of the devil.

"Ghost." He smiled at him instinctively. “What are you doing here again?”

Ghost stared at him for a minute before shrugging. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Everything alright, LT?”

Ghost looked around the med bay. “Yeah. I’m good.” He sat down, body barely fitting in the chair. 

Soap watched him for a minute before relaxing into his bed. He didn’t feel tired now plus he was worried about what dreams he’d get now that Ghost was there to observe them.

“Am I dreaming?” Soap asked out loud, glancing at Ghost.

“No.” Ghost laughed and closed his eyes, head tilting back. “I got bored. Nothing to do in this fucking place.”

“So you come to me?”

“Yeah, guess I did.” Ghost glanced at him, head tilting. Soap felt a twinge of frustration. No matter how closely he looked at Ghost, his eyes never looked the same. Always switching from brown to blue and back again.

“Do you wear contacts?”

“What? No. Why the fuck do you think that?”

“Your eyes change.”

“It’s called lighting.” Simon said it deadpan, but Soap could see the smallest shaking of his shoulders like he was laughing. 

Soap smiled. “What kind of car does a sheep like to drive?”

“What’s that, Johnny?”

“A lamborghini.” Soap sat up, wincing. Ghost leaned over and helped him up, readjusting him against the pillows. He tried very hard to tell himself anyone would help someone who was hurt, but Ghost didn’t usually go to the medbay at all, let alone help. 

“When I was on leave last time, I got so bored I took fencing.” Ghost said to him quietly, like he was telling a secret.

“Really?” Ghost being a sword fighter sounded a little too much. Guy was already an expert at almost everything else.

“Yeah my neighbors keep demanding I give it back.” His eyes met Johnny’s before he burst into laughter, wincing when it made his leg move. 

“Christ, Lt. That was especially bad.” He smiled at him. He noticed his hands. “You’re still wearing your gloves. That cold in here?”

“No. I don’t get cold easily.” 

“Then why do you wear all the layers?” Johnny knew the answer already.

“Don’t want to be seen.” Ghost glanced at him, tilting his head. They stared at each other for a while. 

Yeah, nothing really changed. Ghost had a stranglehold on his heart already, didn’t need the coat for it. He averted his gaze and started talking about football. It was an easy subject, he knew Ghost watched games when on leave and thanks to playing in highschool, he knew the ins and outs enough to impress anyone. 

“You play sports in high school?” In Soap’s head, Ghost must’ve. Tall guy with broad shoulders? Every coach would’ve been fighting to get him. 

“No.” 

“What did you do?”

“Worked as soon as I could.” Ghost answered honestly. “Didn’t have time for stuff like that.” 

Soap frowned, going to change the subject before it hit him that Ghost just freely answered something about himself. He trudged on. “Did you like school?”

“Yeah. It was better than home at least.” 

“Have any siblings that stuck around?”

Wrong question. Ghost got up. “I should let you sleep. It’s late.”

“Wait, Simon.” Soap went to apologize, but Ghost looked at him and he shut up immediately. Not because Ghost scared him, but the way his eyes looked. Sliver of gold around his pupil that disappeared as soon as Soap saw it. “Goodnight, sir.”

“Goodnight, Johnny.”

Soap took a deep breath when he was gone. So Ghost wasn’t human either. From the way he acted, Soap was still pretty sure he didn’t know he was a selkie, he still believed their marriage was accidental. But this did make everything quiet a bit more interesting. 

[mmimagine-40]

Pup pt.2

Alpha!Steve x Omega!Female Reader

Warnings: Talks of mistreatment and abuse

y/n thought it would be a little harder to sleep as she was in a strangers house. An alpha strangers house who was helping to take care of her. But as soon as she leaned back on that soft pillow with the fluffy blanket thrown over her , her eyes fell heavy and she was out in seconds. Even if she was on a couch it was way more comfortable then the hard ground she had been laying on for the last few months. Especially the nice fluffy blanket and pillow. She can’t even remember when the last time was that she even had either. Or the last time she had this well of a rest. Even if her ankle lightly throb and hurt. She was still way more comfortable and got way more rest then she thinks shes ever had in her life. In the morning she was woken with sun lightly shining through the trees and into the window to her eyes and the smell of some food and coffee being made. 

Y/n lightly moaned and groaned as she sat up to stretch a bit. But as she did pain shoot down to her ankle. Reminding her again about the condition of her foot. Steve came running into the room to make sure she was okay from where he was in the kitchen.  “You okay pup?”. “Yeah I’m okay. I just sat up too quickly and hit my ankle.”. Steve nodded as he walked over to her. “Mind if I check it out?”. Y/n nodded as she moved to sit facing him as she moved the blankets off her. Allowing Steve to push up the sweat pants up to check her ankle. He frowned as he looked at it. “The swelling has gone down. But your ankle is still very bruised. Possibly broken or torn. I think more towards something that is torn.”. “Either way I’m going to be restricted am I?” Y/n asked softly. Steve nodded as he gently set her foot down on a pillow and grabbed the ice pack he brought with him. Gentle laying it down on her ankle. “Not going to lie , yeah it doesn’t look too good. Either way yeah your probably going to be restricted.”. Steve then headed back to the kitchen to finish up and plate up some food for himself and Y/n. As he left Y/n started to spiral. She had no where to go at all. Add on an injury like this it would slow her down a lot. It was only a matter of time till Alpha found her again. “Pup? You okay?” Steve asked snapped her out of it as he handed her a plate with food. Y/n nodded as she took the plate. Saying a quick thank  you as she thought it all over. “After we are done we can get ready and head out to the doctors. The doctor in town is a friend of mine Bruce. He offered to come in early to check you out so you can get checked out right away and not worry about having to wait.” Steve said as they eat. Y/n only nodded as she poked at her food. The worry eating her away. There was no way Steve would host her much longer and she will be out on the street. Not fully knowing where she is or where to go. Although she so badly wanted to be away from that other Alpha. But there was a part of her that didn’t think she would really get this far. So she didn’t really have a plan when she got away. And now she's facing that realization. “Pup? Are you sure you're okay? I can tell somethings bugging you.”Steve asked worried about Y/n as she was so zoned out and had a look like she was worried about something. Y/n nodded as she turned to look at him. Breaking out of her thoughts as she looked at him. “Yes , I just realized I don’t really have anywhere else to go.”. Steve nodded as he listened. “No parents or friends you could call? Steve asked. Y/n shook her head. “I've never had friends. And If i called or went to my parents, My father would just take me right back to Brock.” Y/n said as her breath started to get heavier. Being scared of that. Steve moved close to her reaching a hand out to her. “Yeah its okay. We won’t let that happen okay?’ Steve makes sure to release pleasant scenes to calm y/n down. After a few seconds Steve spoke up. “Is Brock the Alpha that was chasing you in the woods?”. Y/n nodded as she leaned up to set the food she barely touched on the coffee table. Staring at her hands. “Hes my husband. My father arranged me to marry him. ..I…I don’t came from a good back ground. One of Alphas believe they are truely above omegas. Omegas arn’t allowed the normal things in life. Only there to clean , cook and care for the alphas and Betas. They are arranged to marry alphas. After which they are mated and start popping out babies.”. Steve sat their shocked. Those are very old fashioned ways. He can’t believe there are still people out there who do such terrible things like this still. Steve reached out and grabbed Y/n’s hand. “I promise I will help you. You can stay here while you heal. When you can start to walk a bit more if you can just help around here with some chores. I’ll help you get back on your feet.”. “Why are you being so nice to me?”. Y/n asked in a shaky voice as she looked up at Steve with tear filled eyes.

---

@vicmc624

[hopefulromances]

I’m also waiting for speak now ☺️☺️ could you pls do a comforting Jamie fic with #6 “hugging and gently holding the other’s head” (she/her)

Yes ma'am! Thank you for the ask!

6. Hugging and gently holding the other's head

You walked quickly through the halls of Richmond, looking in the windows looking for Jamie. The game as Man City was intense and you had never been prouder of Jamie in your entire life. He played hard, even though you knew he was scared, and even the people of Manchester could see his immense talent.

Eventually, you found Jamie, sitting in one of the trainers rooms with his foot in a bucket of ice. He was typing something on his phone when you entered. He looked up when he saw you enter the room. His face lit up in a way that made your heart flutter.

"Shouldn't you be celebrating right now?" You teased as you walked over to him.

"I think I see a celebration coming my way," He shot back, reaching his hands out. "C'mere."

He looped his fingers into your beltloops and pulled you towards him. You giggled, bringing your hands up to hold his face as you kissed him. It was a sweet kiss. An appreciative kiss. A proud kiss.

You pulled away and pulled him in for a hug, resting your head on top of his as you gently held his head against you.

"I'm so fucking proud of you Jamie," you murmured against his head, pressing your lips to his hair. "So. Fucking. Proud."

He grinned against you, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist. "You know what, love?" You pulled back so you could look at him. "I'm proud of me, too."

That made tears spring into your eyes. After years of playing for someone else, he made himself proud. You leaned down to kiss him again, starting to push him onto the table when the door opened behind you.

"Oi! No fucking on the physical tables!" Roy's shout came from behind you. Jamie laughed, but didn't release you quite yet.

"Oh sorry, I didn't realize the senior citizens were still wandering about," Jamie quipped. As Roy and Keely walked over to you, Jamie squeezed you on last time, making room next to him on the table. He grabbed your hand and didn't let go of it for the rest of the night.

This scene may or may not be very similar to a scene that will be in 'Long Time Coming'

[the-silent-graveyard]

Even Death Can Be Tender

TW: Child death, suicide

Metal came in contact with fresh soil as a shovel pulled up dirt, tossing it to the side. The motion repeated over and over again until a near grave had been dug wide open, the deity Ghostwalker looming over the hole. Ghostwalker's been doing this for centuries now, digging up several new graves every single day in preparation for when a life would be claimed by cruel hands. And today was no different. The soft squeaking of the graveyard's gates caused the deity to cast his gaze that way. Oh, the squeeze his heart felt when he saw the form of a young, teenage demon. A young female demon, horns a pale blue color and her outfit consisting of a hoodie, knee-length pale blue skirt and some boots. She looked out of it and tired, a lost wanderer amongst the vast of life and death, resting within limbo until she can properly move on. Ghostwalker stuck his shovel into the dirt and silent approached the young demon, semi-transparent wings folding in on themselves as he approached. He never kept his wings out; he knew they made him seem intimidating to the dead. The female demon seemed to coware a little once she noticed Ghostwalker. Her back hunched, knees knocking together while looking up at him anxiously. Ghostwalker could sense her fear, stopping a decent way away to give her some space. Silent moments passed before the young demon finally spoke, her voice hushed and shaky. "Where... W-Where am I...?" Ghostwalker hummed and adjusted his glasses. "You're in my graveyard, young lady." The young demon paused at that, her hand slowly reaching up to her throat as the realization hit her. She did it, she actually did it. "So.... I'm-?" "Yes, you're dead, my dear." Ghostwalker was never one to beat around the bush even if the truth was harsh, watching the confused and scared expression of the female demon shift to one of somber acceptance. A book spawned within the deity's hand as he outstretched it, starting to flip through the pages until he landed on the page of the young demon in front of him. His heart squeezed once more as his x eyes scanned the page. "Found alone", "hanging from the ceiling fan", "suicide". Ghostwalker had to give himself a moment after closing the book. He's seen countless deaths, so much gore and viscera, but sometimes the mention of suicide gave him pause. "They don't care that I'm gone, do they? They never seemed to care..." Ghostwalker glanced at the female demon before de-spawning the book and moving closer to her. He reached down, gently grabbing her hands within his own. The female demon blinked, her pearly white eyes suddenly starting to glow a soft orange color as Ghostwalker's wings spread out to their full length. "Hush, my child. Close your eyes and witness what's come after your death." It played out like a slideshow; police arriving and finding her body, gathering of evidence, a scene of the female demon's mother broken and sobbing her eyes out, the female demon's father trying his best to console her. Image after image, the girl's eyes began to water. They cared? They really cared? Her pearly eyes stopped glowing, the pictures fading and once again being greeted by Ghostwalker. "They.... They cared?" "They always have, my dear. They always have." The female demon looked down, slowly nodding as Ghostwalker carefully pulled her into an embrace, feeling her hug him back. "The world's a beautiful place, my dear. And I'm sorry your torrent emotions led you down this dark path. You did not deserve to be cursed with such thoughts, with such ideals that death was your only salvation. But here, you can rest peacefully. You can spend your days knowing you were loved, and that even in death, you will always be loved." The girl nodded slowly and rested her head on Ghostwalker's chest, closing her eyes as she slowly started to fade out of existence. Ghostwalker gently placed his hand on the back of her head, wings slowly folding back as her spirit vanished into the nothingness.

[starkraivennemad]

What's Said And What's Heard

They didn't know it yet - it was their last minutes being alone…

First came the hurt…

"Mummy! What in heavens name could possibly have given you thought of such a connection?" Mycroft Holmes scoffed at the very thought. "He and I? That's utterly preposterous!" "Excuse me?"  It was not so much the words spoken, but how they were delivered that caused Greg to lash out. "Oh yes, completely ludicrous. What a pauper can't look at a prince? I can help with that.  Maman? Let's go!" Greg glad they had arrived at the booth but had not sat. He grabbed his mother's hand. "Gregory!" "Lestrade." "Greg, wait." Mycroft, Sherlock and his mother called out. Greg ignored the latter two to face a stricken looking Mycroft about to speak. "Don't bother, Holmes." Greg had hidden his feelings from the intimidating man for over a year because of this very fear. I’m not good enough. Hearing it confirmed in words stung. They stung deeply. He’ll never be mine… "Greg!" His mother tried. "Mère, no." Were he not upset and already turned away, he would have noticed her surprised face at being addressed formally, something he only does when he is very upset, as he gently, but decidedly pulled her at her hand. We’re leaving.

Followed by the embarrassment…

"Gregory Michael Lestrade, that is ENOUGH! Unhand me now, young man!" Giselle Lestrade thundered once they were out of the restaurant and in the car park.  He had parked near the divider wall between self-parking from one entrance and valet parking from the other side. Whoa! Haven't heard THAT tone since… Academy? He immediately released his hold on her. He had not realized how tight was his grip until she shook her hand. Shite! What are you doing, Greg! "Maman, I… I am so sorry!" He tried to reach for her hand, but she snatched it away. "I don't want to hear it, Gregory. You are lucky we were such a nice place, and I did not want there to be cause of a bigger scene than what was already happening. What is going on in that thick gob of yours?" Fuck it all! This weekend had gone so great, now it's ruined! Head down in shame, Greg ran a rough had through his silver hair, setting it awry. "I can't." "The way you just manhandled me? Boy, you better try!" Greg winced at her words and shook his head. Giselle Lestrade raised her son to fear no one. Then again, his mother had not come against the likes of one Mycroft Holmes. How could he explain someone like Mycroft Holmes? He was an uber intelligent man who suffered no fools. Mycroft will claim he occupied a minor office in the British government and had the documentation to prove it, but after nearly a decade of knowing - Greg certainly knew better. There was nothing minor about Mycroft's true occupation as a global political player of such immense power the world is better in not knowing existed. Mycroft can bring monarchs and presidents to heel with raised brow. Calculating and ruthless, Mycroft was a man willing to make the hard decisions no one else could and execute them for the sake of Crown and Country. He was also a man of droll, yet cutting wit who loved his parents who did not always seem to understand him. Adores his not-exactly-a-baby brother who lives to give him grief at every turn as only a little brother can. The man who publicly scorned sentiment and romantic entangles with a motto of caring is not an advantage. The man whose plentiful condemnations were as cutting as his rare compliments  Tall, posh with legs for eons in his three-piece bespoke, pocket watch wearing suit of a man he was madly, but secretly in love with. The man who emphasized the preposterousness of that love ever being reciprocated moments ago. The man I just walked away from. "You wouldn't understand, Mère." Greg sighed as he leaned against his car. "Would it have anything to do with how deeply paupers love princes?" she asked softly. Greg knew by the question his mother had gleaned the answer. Of course, she knows. She the only person who can read me better than Mycroft. And she heard what he said… She leaned beside him against the car. “When did my brave copper of a son become a coward of the heart, hmm?” She was about to say more when voices were heard on the other side of the wall.

But then the surprise…

"Idiot boy! I'm not asking why you haven't told him. I'm sure you've concocted a hundred reasons why not. I'm asking how you, you who sees everyone and everything, have not seen it for yourself?!" Violet Holmes fussed. "Believe me, Mummy. He has excelled at hiding his feelings - even from himself." Sherlock drawled. Oh, HE’s one to talk! "Oh, don't you dare! Pot/Kettle, little brother, Pot/Kettle." "Oh, don't you dare try to change the focus, Mikey." Violet chastised. "And Liam hush! I'll get back to you your doctor fellow another time, don't speak out of hand again." "Yes, Mummy." Sherlock demurred. So, I'm not the only son to completely ruin Mother's Day brunch. Nice to know the Holmes Boys get taken to task by their mum too. “This is about Mikey being intimidated by Greg.” Violet continued. What? Greg looked at his mother and knew by her look of surprise he had not misheard. Mycroft intimidated by me? I am the one who is intimidated! “Oh, I am sure my brother has unconsciously tried his best to intimidate Greg.” Sherlock scoffed. “Are you aware, Mummy, that Lestrade and John are the only people outside the immediate family not cowed by his Iceman glare? I’m sure he’s tried to ward him off with his trademark Caring Is Not an Advantage lark – Ow! You kicked me!” Only because Greg had to stop himself from laughing out loud did it occur to him; he was listening in on their conversation. And I definitely should not be. Best to go before my feeling are hurt even more. “I did say stop speaking out of turn.” Violet huffed, “Besides, Mikey is correct, caring is NOT an advantage…” “Thank you, Mummy.” Mycroft said smugly. “Don’t thank me. I raised you to be wary of the pitfalls of love, yes, but not to disdain it altogether. Since when are you such a coward?” Without even looking at her, Greg saw the smug look on his mother’s face. He was not really cognizant of having moved until he had turned the corner.

Succeeded by the confession…

“Disadvantage or not - didn’t stop you from falling in love with me or I you, did it?” “Gregory!” Mycroft spun around at the sound of Greg’s voice behind him. Greg will treasure the day he caused surprised looks on not one, not two, but all three of the Holmes geniuses. “Maman was giving me the well-deserved what for too.”  Hands in his trouser pockets and blushing profusely, Greg tilted his head towards Giselle who joined him. “Sherlock, I know you can charm when you want to. Do it now and please take our mother’s back inside for brunch. Your brother and I will be in shortly.” “I will…” Whatever nonsense was about to fall from Sherlock’s lips evaporated as four sets of eyes glared at him. “I will do my best.” “You better.” Greg gave him no quarter, blithely ignoring the scowl from Sherlock, and the raised eyebrows from the mothers and the three returned to the restaurant.  “Sorry for listening in… I…”. “No, before you say another word let me speak, please.” Mycroft approached Greg. “You walked off before I could explain. The preposterousness of out being together was because I never imagined some like you would ever have interest in someone like me. It was NEVER that I have not sincerely wished for such between us. Mummy saw how much it devastated me to realize I had accidentally hurt you and why.” “And I thought someone like you would never be interested in someone like me. Your words, the way I took them sealed it. Maman saw how much I was hurt by you and why.” Greg smiled at his mother, then at Violet. “Nice to know you can’t hide from your Mum any more than I from mine.” “I’m beginning to see neither mother raised cowards, just two blind idiots.” Greg smiled gently. “But I think we’re both seeing clearly now – yes?” “Quite so.” Mycroft returned the smile.

Adding in the touch…

Eyes locked on each other; Greg realized it took Mycroft a moment for it register his hand was being gently tugged. Mycroft looked down to see Greg’s strong fingers slowly grasping to hold his. He and Mycroft have shaken hands countless of times.  This was the first time ever they have touched. “You…. You are the first person in YEARS, outside of family or physicians, to touch me…” Mycroft exhaled in wonder. “And to be blunt – you’re… oh sod this!”

With the kiss…

Greg is not sure what surprised him more. Mycroft using such a phrase as Sod this(!) or the kiss suddenly planted on his lips. Okay, he lied – the kiss absolutely was the bigger surprise. Oh, but a much, MUCH more welcome one! “Hello…” Mycroft was quite pink about the ears when they came up for air. “Hey yourself” Greg could not have wiped the smile from his face had his life depended on it. “I feel behooved to inform you that was seen not only by the valet, but at least two security cameras and…” Mycroft pulled out his buzzing phone without looking. “Oh?” Greg grinned was plastered in place as he spied the nearest camera and waved. “Tell Anthea she can give me The Talk on Tuesday.” “Why Tuesday?” Mycroft asked surprised. “Today IS Mothers’ Day and I don’t know about you, but I’m damn sure not telling Maman to fend for herself until she heads back tomorrow .” Greg headed back inside the restaurant. ”So, Anthea will have to wait until Tuesday.” “I do not say this often, Gregory, but I’m not following.” Greg turned around in time to appreciate Mycroft’s sardonic eyeroll in acknowledgement that he was in fact currently following Greg into the restaurant.

Concluding with, the promise…

“You want to tell your mother you abandoned her on Mother’s Day to get railed by your VERY soon-to-be lover? Because once I get your in bed tomorrow, Mycroft Holmes, we’re not getting out of it before Tuesday.” Greg winked. Greg grinned as Mycroft stumbled nearly going offline again. Whoa! Got Mycroft to short-circuit twice in one day! “Follow me now, love?” “Yes, I follow, love.”

…Before the rest of their lives together.

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

Comment on AO3

@calaisreno @MayPrompts2024

#MayPrompts2024 - Prompt 9: Intimidate, Prompt 14: Eavesdrop

[mimisempai]

Addicted to your softness

Summary

Crowley overhears a conversation between Maggie and Nina and learns from them how Shaw spoke to his angel.

Notes

If you look at that scene when Shax mocks Aziraphale's love of food, his softness, look at Aziraphale's face and you'll be heartbroken like me.

On Ao3

Rating G -  1562 words

At Aziraphale's request, Crowley was on his way to pick up a classical music record that the angel had ordered from Maggie. As he walked through the door of the record store, Crowley realized that Maggie wasn't there and was about to call out to her when he heard a voice.

"Nina, I assure you, I'm fine."

Crowley was torn between leaving and staying to tell his angel some gossip.

"But as for this demon, I no longer know their name -"

"Shax."

Shax? Why were they talking about Shax?

"Yes, Shax, what they said to you was extremely hurtful. And I don't want you to think that..."

Maggie's voice interrupted her, "Nina, everything you told me was stuff I've heard before. But I know who I am and what I'm worth. What hurts me more is what they said to Mr. Fell."

"He said you could call him Aziraphale."

They talked about his Aziraphale?

"Yes, Aziraphale. I think he seemed more affected by what they said to him than I was."

Crowley couldn't stand it any longer and joined them in the back room, "What did Shax say to him?"

Both women gasped and Maggie hesitated.

Crowley insisted, "Tell me everything."

Maggie replied quietly, "I don't remember the exact words, but they insisted he was soft, mocked the fact that he liked to eat so much, and asked if they should get him some sushi, and Mr. - Aziraphale looked almost sad for a moment.

That bitch, Crowley thought, feeling anger well up inside him on behalf of Aziraphale.

"Hey, you're not going to pull that lightning trick again, are you?"

Nina's voice snapped him out of his spiral and he shook his head. The coffee shop owner then asked him gently, "Do you need any coffee, like 6 shots of espresso?"

Crowley shook his head, "No, on the other hand, I want six of your biggest Eccles Cakes, if you've got any left."

Nina nodded, kissed Maggie on the cheek, and said to Crowley, "Come on, I'll give you this."

As they walked to the coffee shop, Nina asked him, "Are you going to be okay?"

Crowley replied, "Yeah... no... I hate the idea of him... anyway, let's just say his last employer never really treated him right, even though he never did anything wrong, so..."

Nina nodded, "I know, even if Maggie and I aren't, weren't, well, anyway, when that old witch talked to her like that, if it hadn't been a demon, I don't know if I could have held back. So I can only imagine now that you and he..."

"Yeah." Crowley replied simply as they reached the coffee shop. Nina quickly disappeared behind the counter and returned with a plate of Eccles cakes, which she handed to Crowley, saying, "This is on me. Take good care of him."

Crowley nodded and stomped out of the coffee shop, heading straight for the bookshop.

As he entered, he spotted Aziraphale standing in front of one of the shelves and called to him, "Angel, may I tempt you to a little snack?" 

As the Angel turned, he showed him the plate of cakes, pleased to see his eyes brighten as he nodded eagerly.

Crowley asked, "Isn't Muriel here?"

Aziraphale shook his head as he followed, "No, while studying the books they came across a compendium of the city's monuments and expressed a desire to explore the city."

"Oh, very well," Crowley replied, placing the plate of cakes on the small table, "Sit down and I'll bring you a cup of tea."

"Oh, you're an angel, thank you."

Crowley turned and replied with a cheeky smile, "No, angel, that's you."

He heard the angel chuckle as he entered the small kitchen to prepare the tea. 

A few moments later, he returned to Aziraphale with the tea and sat down next to him after placing the cup in front of him.

He handed the plate to Aziraphale, who greedily grabbed the cake and lifted it to his mouth.

Crowley couldn't help but smile at the various sounds of pleasure the angel made as he tasted the cake.

"What's the matter?" the angel asked, looking confused as he finished the first cake.

Crowley shook his head, "Nothing's wrong," then handed him the plate.

Aziraphale picked up another cake and asked with a smile, "Are you afraid I'm not eating enough?"

Crowley replied, "Nothing of the sort, angel, I just want you to eat what you feel like."

Having just bitten into the cake, Aziraphale smiled back, "That's sweet of you, but also a little strange."

I want you to forget what that idiot said to you.

"Crowley, my dear, I find you a little weird. Not that I dislike your attentions, but I have a strange feeling. Is something wrong?"

Crowley shook his head and replied, "No, nothing, eat."

The angel frowned and said in a falsely scolding tone, "Crowley...no lies between us. I sense there's something on your mind. I may often be oblivious, but I can see that you're upset about something."

Crowley sighed and replied, "I just heard from Maggie what Shax said to you that night.

Aziraphale looked puzzled at first, then Crowley caught the moment when the demon's words came back to his mind and immediately saw the angel's expression as he shrugged and said softly, "It's nothing I haven't heard before, at least Hell and Heaven are connected on this."

Confused, Crowley asked, "What do you mean?"

Aziraphale explained, "It's nothing much, Gabriel used to chastise me too for eating human food and that it made me soft." He unconsciously ran his hand over his stomach, but Crowley saw it and grabbed it, saying, "You know that's crap, don't you?"

"Well..." Aziraphale breathed, looking away, "for two people to be talking about it, there must be something to it."

Crowley grabbed his chin and turned his head toward him, saying in a firm voice, "I'm telling you, it's crap. It's coming from two people who are incapable of enjoying life -even if that's no longer true for his former royal smugness. You know, watching you eat is one of my favorite things, Angel?"

The angel shook his head gently, "How could it be?"

He gently ran his thumb over the angel's lips and replied, "When you eat, you look absolutely delighted, you're the picture of bliss, and I don't see the angel anymore, I only see you, Aziraphale. You don't hold back, and it's like seeing you fly on your own wings, if you'll allow me the metaphor. Forget what they told you, both of them. Don't be ashamed of who you are. Yes, you're soft, but so what?"

Crowley wrapped his arms around Aziraphale's waist and pressed his cheek against his stomach before continuing, "I like that softness, and I wouldn't have you any other way. And besides, it's all mine now."

He felt the angel laugh softly against him, then felt his hands settle into his hair, forcing him to lift his head.

Aziraphale leaned toward him and said softly, his voice trembling slightly, "Thank you..."

"Thank you for what, Angel?"

The angel replied softly, "For always telling me what I need to hear. Always."

On the wall, after telling the demon how he had given away his flaming sword, Aziraphale worried, "I hope I didn't do the wrong thing.

The demon looked at him, smiled, and said gently, "Oh, you're an angel. I don't think you can do the wrong thing."

********

Aziraphale said in a desperate voice, "I lied. To thwart the will of God."

Crawley nodded and replied in a gentle tone, "Yes, you did, but... I won't tell anyone," then turning to him, he added, " Are you?"

Aziraphale didn't answer, so the demon continued, "No. Then nothing has to change, does it?"

Aziraphale sat down on the bench and asked, lost, "But what am I?"

Crawley replied comfortingly, "You're just an angel who goes along with Heaven as far as he can.”

Crowley straightened and, cupping the Angel's face in his hands, replied gently, "Angel, I've never told you anything but the truth, nothing more. Just as I'm telling you today. I want to keep seeing you enjoy what you love. I want to keep seeing your eyes light up when you see a dessert that should be banned for its sugar content. I want to keep hearing you marvel because you've just discovered a new restaurant. Because that's who you are, and that's who I love."

When he heard Aziraphale gasp, Crowley realized what he had just said and didn't regret it, knowing it was the perfect moment. He leaned in to kiss the angel, but Aziraphale shook his head and pushed him a little, "W-Wait, Crowley!"

Crowley replied, "Don't even bother asking me if I'm sure, because..."

"I love you too, you idiot!"

"Oh..."

They stared at each other in silence for a few seconds before bursting out laughing. Only they could have this kind of declaration of love, chaotic and messy, but so them in the end.

When they had calmed down, Aziraphale repeated more softly, "I love you."

Crowley didn't answer, closing the distance and pressing his lips to the angel's in a kiss that celebrated a love that had been sown many millennia ago, that had taken time to grow and was finally blossoming into the light.

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story  🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Ineffable Growing Love series : here (After season 2)

Ineffable Husbands masterlist : here (Before season 2)